#ih6 fluff

[multicohn]

summary: isack being a supportive boyfriend to his girlfriend during the olympics

warnings: just a short little thing for now ( shout out to all my isack lovers btw ). drivers being jokingly mean, thought i'd put it in just in case. this is based back in 2024 after spa :)

pairing: fem! skateboarder! reader x isack hadjar

genre: smau, fluff, established relationship

face claim: no one in particular. i got most of the photos off pinterest and just picked them at random ( i don’t know who the skater is in the last pics, but the blurred photo is of the medal winners )

author note: this was going to be a gabi oneshot, but i changed it at the last minute

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isackhadjar

liked by pepemartiofficial and others

isackhadjar: great way to start the break! now time to go support my y/n at home <3

( tagged: youruser )

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user: good job isack!

paularon_: i let you win btw

| isackhadjar: yeah okay

user: cuties

camposracing: enjoy your break champ 👊 hoping y/n wins 🙏

| youruser: thanks admin 💖

user: what does she compete in?

| youruser: skateboarding!

| user: oh... which one are you in?

| youruser: park, so it'll be on august 6th if you wanna watch :)

youruser: reporting for hab duties lol

| isackhadjar: always 🫡

| paularon_: i’m going to be sick

| isackhadjar: die

| user: LMAO

pepemartiofficial: can i wear her medal if she wins?

| isackhadjar: wdym if…

| pepemartiofficial: 🙄 *when

| isackhadjar: good. don't do it again

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youruser

seen by camposracing and more

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user: don’t break him we need him

paularon_: yes… do it so so i can win

| youruser: you haven’t even been on the top podium yet, sit down.

| paularon: hope you lose in the first round

| youruser: 🖕

sami_meguetounif: please tell me he fell

| youruser: he slipped off and the board hit him in the ankle

| sami_meguetounif: LOL DID YOU RECORD IT

| youruser: IM NOT GIVING IT TO YOU

| sami_meguetounif: BOOO 🍅🍅🍅

camposracing: please don’t injure him. he’s got a championship fight going on

| youruser: I KNOW THAT HE WAS FINE

| camposracing: 😐

| youruser: it was just a bit of pain… BUT NOTHING IS BROKEN OR BRUISED OR EVEN SCRATCHED

| camposracing: 😑

| youruser: attitude

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youruser

liked by olliebearman and others

youruser: my precious 🫶

( tagged: isackhadjar )

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olliebearman: okay gollum

| youruser: i’m going to doxx you

user: i’m new here. wtf do you mean isack is dating someone in the olympics

| user: they started dating towards the start of the year. there was a skateboarding comp going on in the same place as a race and he went to see with some of the other guys

| youruser: i will also like to state that i did rizz him up first

| gabirelbortoleto_: and ignored all of us at the same time

| youruser: i was NOT 🙅‍♀️ letting a man THAT cute WITH big brown eyes leave without getting his number first

| isackhadjar: ☺️

| gabirelbortoleto_: WE ALL HAD BROWN EYES WTH AREBYOU TALKING ABOUT

| youruser: his are special

| gabirelbortoleto_: im going to block you both

user: was he allowed in the village?

| youruser: NO I WAS SO UPSET

| youruser: but the beds were basically made of cupboard so i saved him back pain 🫶

| camposracing: thank you

kimi.antonelli: still offended that i didn’t get an invie

| isackhadjar: you don’t deserve one

| kimi.antonelli: UNPROVOKED????

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isackhadjar

viewed by gabirelbortoleto_ and others

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user: we love a supportive bf

gabirelbortoleto_: be honest, did you throw up?

| isackhadjar: yes

| gabirelbortoleto_: you aren’t even competing

| isackhadjar: and here i thought you were being supportive. watch out in monza

user: love when drivers became wags

| isackhadjar: it’s a hab.

| user: my bad king 🙏

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isackhadjar

liked by camposracing and others

isackhadjar: SHE DID IT ❤️❤️

( tagged: youruser )

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user: HOLY SHI

user: i was watching and they put the camera on isack — he was crying SO BAD

user: she ate that

user: absolutely unreal to witness her skate

sami_meguetounif: congrats to y/n and everything... why do you look tall in the last photo

| pepemartiofficial: i thought i was the only one!

| isackhadjar: one day is all i ask for

formula2: WOOHOO WELL DONE Y/N

camposracing: an olympic gold medalist will be in our garage...

| camposracing: someone hold me

jakcrawford: damn you better win the championship now

| isackhadjar: working on it…

| gabirelbortoleto_: 🧍

| paularon_: 🧍

| zane.maloney: 🧍

| isackhadjar: GO AWAY

youruser: i love you so much 🥹🥹💙

| isackhadjar: you constantly have me in awe, i love you baby, well done 💙

| olliebearman: barf

| isackhadjar: WHY ARE YOUS DOING THIS TO ME LEAVE

kimi.antonelli: congrats y/n! ( why didn’t you invite me )

| isackhadjar: stay mad

| kimi.antonelli: ⁉️

[nottivagos]

an: hihi everyone!! sorry this isn't smut for tonight, i was just feeling the isack hadjar blues and decided to write some fluff for him <3 that being said, you can now request isack hadjar fics if you'd like!!

“isack hadjar is out of the australian grand prix!”

those words loomed over the racing bulls paddock as your wide, shocked eyes fixated on the screen in front of you, broadcasting isack’s crash as a replay. the vision of the vcarb hitting the wall after spinning due to the wet conditions on track haunting you as a pit formed in your stomach, tight knots of uncertainty of his safety following.

your heart shattered. isack’s mechanics groaned out of sympathy, heads in their hands at the horror that your boyfriend had suffered on his debut in formula one's formation lap. he'd been so strong all weekend, really proving himself and pushing himself to his limits to qualify just out of the points zone, keeping himself optimistic and level headed all weekend.

as you watched him jump out of the wreck, hand covering his eyes when he lifted his visor, you felt powerless. how you yearned to hold him in his arms, ever so tightly, just to try and console him after his terrible blunder. you knew how much today meant to isack, the golden chance he had to make a mark in the chaotic world of formula one, maybe even shine above the other 5 debuting rookies on this rainy sunday in melbourne, just to have it taken away by something out of his control.

the aftermath of the crash hung heavy over the paddock, some of the mechanics muttering about how isack’s crash must've “really took a knock out of his confidence” as you watched isack embrace anthony hamilton on his way to the media den. you couldn't help but smile at the sight, not only did he get the selfie he'd always dreamed of getting with the sir lewis hamilton, but now he was being consoled by the man's father.

his head hung low, probably out of embarrassment and upset as his sombre interview became background noise as you placed your headset back on its stand, making your way over to his driver room for after his interviews. you inhaled a shaky breath, clutching your bag slightly tighter on your shoulder as your eyes slightly welled up with tears.

a lump of sadness formed in your throat, the sight of your disheartened boyfriend burnt into your mind as the moment haunted your every step. what if the accident was worse? what if he'd gotten injured before he was even able to prove himself in the car? what if his career had ended in those moments before he'd even fully begun? the ‘what ifs’ plagued your mind, as you carried on down the path.

the muffled voices of isack and his engineer could be heard as you finally made it to his driver's room. gulping back your growing sorrows, a slightly shaky fist came to knock onto the door, with an abrupt silence following.

“who's there?” his engineer called out from the closed door.

you quickly introduced yourself, hoping that you'd be able to see your partner, hoping to hold him in your arms and shower him in much needed kisses. to your relief, a mumbled “let her in,” came from isack, and the door opened.

your eyes lit up as his engineer let you have this moment with him, closing the door on both of you.

“hey honey,” your voice was soft, as gentle as it could be as you took a seat next to him on the edge of the bed. his head hung low, eyes not bothering to look at you as you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, your thumb brushing soothingly against his white fireproofs.

“i thought this was my moment, ma beauté,” a strangled sob escaped isack’s lips, his hand coming to cover his eyes as if he tried to hide his overwhelming sadness and humiliation away from you. “i've let everyone down," he continued as you sighed, sliding off of the bed, removing your arm from his shoulder to stand in front of him.

“oh, mon cher,” you whispered, hand coming to cup his stinging cheek, “look at me. please.”

isack’s head turned upwards, meeting your soft eyes with his own sorrowful expression. “it's okay,” you spoke with a loving smile, “just let me kiss you,” you hummed, lips moving to pepper his face in light kisses.

isack smiled slightly, cheeks turning slightly pink at the unexpected affection from you. his hands found your hips, grabbing them gently as you continued to kiss him all over, giggling sweetly as you felt his heart flutter and his mood change slightly.

“what's this for, hm?” he asked, moving his face away slightly, tilting his head upwards to meet your eyes. “i didn't think you would've wanted to kiss a failure.”

“isack.” your voice became sterner for a second, “you're not a failure at all. this is merely just a little slip up. there's plenty more chances to show everyone just how amazing you are,” you mumbled, arms wrapping around him in a warm, loving embrace.

he chuckled slightly, arms wrapping around you as your bodies fitted beautifully perfectly together. he then sighed, “but what if i don't get any more chances? what if i’m more unlucky. what then?”

“isack, amour, you're overthinking,” you mumbled into his ear with a saddened sigh, pressing a soft kiss on his temple in response.

“i suppose i might be,” he responded, letting you nuzzle into his neck for a moment before you let go from his embrace.

“i almost forgot,” you chuckled, rummaging into your bag before pulling out a tupperware box full of your signature freshly baked croissants. “i wanted to share these with you after the race,” you continued, presenting the box of his favourite baked goods in front of him, “but maybe you'd appreciate them now? it might turn that frown upside down.”

you chuckled softly as isack quickly took the tupperware from you eagerly. “these,” he spoke, eyes glimmering with happiness as he set them down on the bed to his side before standing up, “have just made my whole weekend.”

he added, hands coming to cup your cheeks ever so tenderly, love shining in his eyes as he flashed his signature cheesy smiles. “thank you. for everything, ma chérie,” isack mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“you're welcome, isack,” you giggled lovingly, nose grazing his own, “anything for you.” <3

[tsunodaradio]

they should call you sugar ⛐ 𝐈𝐇𝟔

isack has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where you think isack can't hurt a fly.)

ꔮ starring: isack hadjar x reader. ꔮ word count: 0.9k. ꔮ includes: fluff, romance. rookies make an appearance. title from tyler, the creator's sweet / i thought you wanted to dance. ꔮ commentary box: people starting to love on isack YUPPP!!! i used to dream of times like this 🙂‍↕️ a quick lil somethin' as part of my soft spot mini-series. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The first time you hear about Isack being this formidable, foul-mouthed figure on the grid, you nearly bust a stitch laughing. 

Isack? Your Isack? Screaming over the radio, cussing out in the open? 

What are these people on? 

In all the time you’ve known him, Isack hasn’t raised his voice within your vicinity. Not once. There are a handful of times where he would have gotten away with it, you think. The wrong order at a restaurant after an hour wait. Or that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on his brand new team kit. 

He’d always been patient, level-headed. It was to the point where you felt like you were dealing with an actual angel. 

So, now— when the other rookies try to warn you about his supposedly colorful way of expressing himself? 

“That is not Isack Hadjar,” you say in between chuckles, the words muffled behind your palm. “You’re all being absurd. Isack is an absolute sweetheart.” 

Gabriel actually snorts out his drink through his nose. As Ollie and Kimi rib him for it, Jack nudges you in the side. 

“How does he treat you, then?” the Alpine rookie asks, a corner of his mouth twitching upward in a light smirk. 

“You know,” you stammer. “As he should. Opening the door for me, carrying my stuff.” 

You don’t like the look the boys share. It’s like you’re on the outside of their inside joke, and Kimi is completely unable to hide his amusement. 

“You should call him ‘sugar’,” the youngest snickers, “because he’s just so sweet to you.”

The four share a laugh. You give them a heatless glare before stalking off somewhere else to the paddock. You’d come to surprise Isack on his first day of free practice sessions, wanting to watch your best friend officially kick off his Formula One 2025 campaign. 

The other rookies had spotted you and made a jab out of it, leaving you confused. Isack was nice to everybody.

Wasn’t he?

It’s a good day on track. Isack comes out as top of the rookies in the first session, and finishes at an even better place by the second session. By the time you’re weaving over to where the Racing Bulls are, you’re mildly surprised you haven’t been found out yet. 

Isack texted in between sessions, asking if you’d watched from home. You held back on responding, wanting to make the surprise good. 

In the end, you’re the one who ends up surprised. 

Because Isack— who is yet to see you— is cussing in both languages as he jokes around with his social media team. “I am telling you,” he’s arguing, laughter edging his tone, “the ‘it’s Britney, bitch!’ TikTok will do numbers! Putain, just let me at it!” 

It’s a bit fascinating. Here’s Isack with the people he sees everyday, acting more larger-than-life than you’ve ever seen him. You falter in your steps, feeling a bit out of your depth. Are you welcome here? 

Before you can even consider leaving, maybe acting like you were never here, Isack’s eyes skip over you. 

He does a double take. And then he comes to a full stop, his jaw going completely slack. 

“Ma moitié!”

The nickname he’d given you some time back— my better half— lands like a punch to the gut. You’re frozen in your place until he’s jogging up to you, his expression caught between shock and excitement. 

“What are you doing here?” 

His voice is softer, now. More reverent. It’s a stark difference to how he had been interacting with the others, and it reminds you of the other rookies’ teasing. 

You swallow. Now is not the time for a crisis, you mentally chide yourself. “Are you kidding?” you say. “I wouldn’t miss this race weekend for the world.” 

Isack is positively beaming. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your wrist, as if to check if you’re real. When he seems to realize that you are, he actually giggles before tugging you in for a quick hug. 

“I still have to do some more social filming,” he laments. “But I am free after for a— what do you want? A meal? A drive?” 

“Anything, anything,” you say affectionately as you pat the small of Isack’s back. “We’ll figure it out later. Go film, ma moitié.” 

He squeezes you tight before pulling away. His eyes are bright; his smile, a little different from the practiced one he had been donning earlier. You have a suspicion that this smile, this softness, is the real Isack. 

“Okay. Later.” He pauses for a beat, his grin breaking wide across his face. “You can’t just surprise me like this. It’s going to make my heart stop.” 

You laugh. “Wouldn’t want that. Now, shoo!” 

And then— because Kimi had planted the idea in your head— you call out as Isack leaves, “See you later, sugar.” 

Your best friend trips on his shoelaces. 

He throws you a look over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. It looks like there’s a cuss on the tip of his tongue, but he shakes his head and sticks out his tongue instead. It’s as if he’s physically incapable of swearing at you, no matter how small the offense. 

You wave at him as he leaves. People could say what they wanted, but Isack would always be sweet when it came to you. ⛐

[isacksteban]

Surprise — Isacksteban

Esteban hummed softly to himself as he stirred the simmering pasta sauce on the stove, the comforting scent of basil and garlic wafting through the air, filling every corner of the cozy flat in Monaco he shared with his boyfriend, Isack.

The kitchen was warm and inviting, illuminated by the soft glow of under-cabinet lighting, and the sound of the sauce bubbling gently in the pot blended harmoniously with the faint hum of activity from the living room.

It wasn’t often that they had evenings like this — just the two of them, away from the whirlwind of race weekends, media obligations, and constant travel. Esteban cherished these moments. They felt grounding, a reminder of the life they had built together amidst the chaos of their careers.

From the living room, he could hear Isack tapping rhythmically on his phone, the occasional muffled sound of a video playing briefly before being paused or skipped. Esteban smiled to himself, guessing it was probably something about racing — a new onboard camera angle or perhaps a highlights reel. Isack was always hungry for knowledge, always pushing himself to learn more about the sport they both loved.

“Dinner will be ready in ten,” Esteban called out, his voice carrying easily through the open-plan apartment. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting a distracted grunt or a quick "thanks" in reply.

Instead, Isack’s voice came back with an unexpected tone — a mix of excitement and something more elusive, almost nervous energy. “Perfect timing,” he said, louder now, as if steeling himself. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Esteban froze for a split second, his hand stilling over the spoon. He turned down the heat under the sauce and leaned against the counter, looking toward the living room with mild curiosity tinged with concern.

“Something to tell me?” he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. “What is it?”

He didn’t move right away, giving Isack a moment to answer. But the way his boyfriend’s voice had shifted — like he was both bursting to share something and holding it back — made Esteban dry his hands on a kitchen towel and head toward the living room. Whatever this was, it sounded important.

His boyfriend had his legs criss-crossed, his usual relaxed posture betrayed by the almost electric energy in his eyes. His phone rested in his lap, the screen still on, and he was looking at Esteban with a grin that managed to be both mischievous and impossibly proud.

Esteban raised an eyebrow as he approached, the curiosity that had been simmering now bubbling over. “What is it?” he asked, settling onto the couch beside Isack. He leaned in slightly, his full attention on him now, trying to read the excitement in his expression.

Isack bit his lip, his grin twitching wider as if he was struggling to hold back. “You’re going to find out eventually, so I might as well tell you now,” he said, his voice brimming with uncontainable excitement. Slowly, he held out his phone, the screen angled toward Esteban.

Esteban took the phone, his heart beginning to race. His eyes fell on the bold headline plastered across the news article: "Isack Hadjar joins RB for the 2025 season, replacing Liam Lawson, who heads to Red Bull."

For a moment, Esteban froze, the words swimming in front of his eyes as he tried to process them. Then, his jaw dropped. He looked up at Isack, then back at the phone, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he struggled to form coherent words.

“You—” he stammered, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Oh my god. You’re going to be in F1 next year?”

Isack nodded, his grin splitting into a full-blown smile. “Surprise!” he said, throwing his hands up in mock celebration.

The phone slipped from Esteban’s hands as he surged forward, pulling Isack into a tight hug, lifting the boy into the air as he spun around. “Oh my God, Isack! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted it to be official first,” Isack murmured against Esteban’s shoulder, his arms and legs wrapping around his boyfriend. “And I wanted to tell you in person.”

Esteban set the boy down and pulled back just enough to cup Isack’s face in his hands, his eyes bright with both pride and affection. “You did it, mon amour. You really did it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Isack replied, his voice softening.

"No, no, this was all you." Esteban leaned in, pressing a kiss to Isack’s lips. It was gentle at first, a shared moment of celebration, but the joy bubbling between them made it impossible to stop. Isack laughed into the kiss, his fingers threading into Esteban’s hair, pulling him closer.

“You’re going to be incredible,” Esteban murmured between kisses, his words punctuated by soft presses of their lips. “But don’t think for a second that I’m going to let you beat me on track.”

“Is that a challenge?” Isack teased, his voice breathless as Esteban kissed along his jaw.

“Always,” Esteban replied with a smirk, capturing his lips again.

They tumbled back onto the couch, their kisses growing more fervent, a mixture of excitement, love, and the undeniable connection they shared. When they finally pulled apart, their faces were flushed, and both were grinning like idiots.

“You’re really going to be in F1,” Esteban said again, as if he still couldn’t believe it.

“I am,” Isack said, his eyes shining. “And I can’t wait to race alongside you.”

Esteban kissed him again, unable to contain his happiness. “I’m so proud of you. But just so you know,” he added, “you’re making dinner tomorrow. You owe me for keeping this a secret.”

Isack laughed, pulling Esteban back into his arms. “Deal. But I’m still going to beat you next year.”

Esteban just kissed him again, knowing that no matter what happened on the track he'd always be so proud of his boyfriend.

Esteban couldn’t stop grinning, his heart pounding as he cradled Isack’s face, his thumbs gently brushing over his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks. “You’re going to be in F1,” he whispered, almost like he needed to say it out loud again to believe it. “This is real. You’re really doing it.”

Isack nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile. “It’s real,” he echoed, his voice trembling just enough to betray the emotions bubbling beneath his calm exterior. “And I couldn’t wait to tell you. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Esteban leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Isack’s mouth, then another to his cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmured against his skin, his voice thick with affection. “So, so proud.”

Isack’s hands slid up to rest on Esteban’s shoulders, pulling him closer as their lips finally met. The kiss was slow, lingering, their shared joy pouring into the tender connection. Isack’s fingers curled into Esteban’s shirt, holding him as if he never wanted to let go.

When they pulled back just slightly, their foreheads pressed together, Esteban’s breath was warm against Isack’s lips. “You’ve worked so hard for this,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “You deserve every bit of it, mon amour. You’re incredible.”

Isack’s eyes shimmered, and he let out a soft, breathless laugh. “You’re going to make me cry,” he admitted, though his hands remained steady as they slid into Esteban’s hair. “You always know how to say the perfect thing.”

“That’s because I mean every word,” Esteban replied, kissing him again, slower this time, savoring the moment.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the world outside their apartment fading into nothing. The scent of dinner filled the air, but the only thing Esteban could focus on was the warmth of Isack’s lips against his, the soft sighs between kisses, and the way Isack held onto him like he was his world.

When they finally broke apart, Esteban rested his forehead against Isack’s again, his hands still cradling his boyfriend’s face. “I love you,” he whispered, the words carrying all the pride and adoration he felt.

“I love you too,” Isack replied, his voice steady despite the tears glistening in his eyes.

Esteban kissed him again, his hands slipping down to wrap around Isack’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Their kisses grew more urgent, not out of passion but out of the sheer need to hold onto this moment, to celebrate the milestone in the way that was so uniquely theirs.

“I still can’t believe it,” Esteban murmured between kisses, his voice tinged with awe. “You’re going to be out there, living your dream. I’m so lucky to be by your side for this.”

“No,” Isack said softly, cupping Esteban’s face now. “I’m the lucky one. I'm so happy I get to do this, I'm even happier to do it with you. You’re my everything, Este. Always.”

That brought fresh tears to Esteban’s eyes, and he pressed his lips to Isack’s again, pouring all his love and gratitude into the kiss. They stayed wrapped up in each other, their kisses soft and endless, their shared joy filling every corner of the apartment.

The pasta sauce simmered away on the stove, forgotten for now, but neither of them cared. This was their moment, and nothing else mattered.

[nothingelsematterswrites]

fic: when you're in need of love they give you care and attention

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Jack Doohan/Liam Lawson/Isack Hadjar/Gabriel Bortoleto/Andrea Kimi Antonelli/Oliver Bearman

Summary:

Six rookies. Five omegas. One alpha.

The Australian Grand Prix was an awful weekend, but Jack finds himself taking comfort in his fellow rookies and comforting them in turn. It takes him longer than it probably should to figure out exactly why he feels this way.

when you're in need of love they give you care and attention @ AO3

[m4xgirlie]

Welcome!

❤︎Hello! Welcome to my page!❤︎

✒︎Basics

✑Name: Moray

✑Age: 22

✑Pronouns: They/It/She/Xenos

✑Will Write:

Romantic/Familial/Platonic:

❤︎ORBR

❥ MV1 ❥ LL30

❤︎ VCARB

❥ YT22

❤︎McLaren

❥ OP81 ❥ LN4

❤︎Ferrari/Williams

❥ LH44 ❥ CL16 ❥ CS55 ❥ AA23

❤︎ Alpine

❥ PG10 ❥ JD7 ❥ FC43

❤︎SKSF1

❥ NH27

❤︎Haas

��� EO31

❤︎AAMF1

❥ LS18

❤︎Retired

❥ SP11

❥ KR7

❥ SV5

❥ KM20

❥ DR3

❥ LS2

ONLY Familial/Platonic

❤︎VCARB

❥ IH6

❤︎SKSF1

❥ GB5

❤︎Haas

❥ OB87

❤︎AAMF1

❥ FA14

❤︎Mercedes

❥ GR63

❥ KA12

✑Topics: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Dark

✒︎DNI

✑General DNI Criteria

✑MINORS, PLEASE DNI, 18+ ONLY

MASTERLIST

✒︎Current Ideas:

✑Max Verstappen Soulmate!AU - Where Max has a gift from the men of his mothers family that allows him to hear a song coming from his soulmate’s soul. - Single Mother!Paralegal!OC

Story Info

Chapter 1 - Raela

Chapter 1 - Max

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Woo - Blurb

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

(in progress)

✑Jealous!Lando Friends->Enemies->Lovers - Where Lando has solidly refused to admit he’s got a crush on the Vcarb driver that he’s best friends with. Until she starts dating Max. - Female Driver!OC

(to be started)

✑Max Verstappen Petty -> Best Friends -> Lovers - Where Max has to admit that he’s not the only lion on the track, which makes him start admiring his rival. Soon that admiration blossoms into more. - Female Driver!Reader

(in the works)

✑Carlos Sainz Internet Bestie - Carlos decides out of the blue one day he’s gonna select a random follower of his to be internet pen pals with. He thinks it’ll keep him grounded, but does he get more than what he bargained for after his pen pal turns out to be a college student with no clue what F1 is? - College Student!Reader (slight SMAU, I have no clue how to make all those badass edits others do let alone how to structure a post for it to work well enough)

(in the works)

✑ Lewis Hamilton x Non-F1 Engineer!Reader - In which the reader and her best friend go to the Austin Grand Prix and Lewis Hamilton overhears her say “Dude, stop, it would be delusional to think I could get a driver’s attention. Now shut up, I’m here to learn about the cars so maybe I can get a job and your squealing is distracting the guide” so he decides to prove her wrong, both giving her his attention and getting her a job

(in the works)

✑Charles Leclerc x Violinist!Reader - In which she’s just moved to Monaco and suffers from severe insomnia, resulting in 3 a.m practices that wake Charles up. He can’t find it in him to mind

(in the works)

✑Mafia Boss!Lando Norris x Petty Thief!Reader - In which they’re forced to work together to get out of a bad situation they got each other into

(in the works)

✒︎Requests:

✑Absolutely open! I need to flex my creativity while I have it!!

❤︎Thanks for reading!❤︎

[multicohn]

summary: isack’s favourite thing to do is to sleep. what’s better than sleeping? doing it with his girlfriend of course!

warnings: it’s really short, mention of 🪖

pairing: fem! reader x isack hadjar

genre: fluff

author note: very upset that isack didn’t get race and almost started crying when they showed him crying. hope everything goes well for him in the next race :(

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

in her opinion, testing is boring. did she understand what was happening? yes. did she care? not really, isack would tell her everything later anyways.

so, she really didn’t understand why isack begged her to go with him to the track, especially since he’s in the evening. however, y/n was curious as to what her boyfriend did during the wait since she would just stay in the hotel room, so y/n eventually agreed.

once they arrived, isack dropped her off at his drivers room before going to his meeting. y/n hummed and looked around, it was pretty empty, which didn’t surprise her. he had a few exercise equipment and an unfamiliar blanket.

“does he just sleep?” she questioned out loud

isack has always liked to sleep and he can sleep pretty heavily too. y/n still remembered when isack called her saying that he missed a call from helmut marko because he was sleeping. y/n wasn’t sure whether to laugh or panic, but thankfully everything went well when he called back.

when isack’s meeting finished forty-five minutes later, he had been more than happy to leave.

“the bed is calling me” is what he said when asked why he wasn’t complaining about boredom

isack hummed as he opened the door to see that his girlfriend was curled up beneath his girlfriend and had already turned on the tv, ready for testing to start. he sighed in relief before closing the door and climbing into the small bed.

“this is why you wanted me to come, isn’t it?”

“mmh” isack pulled up the blanket and snuggled into her back

“knew it”

does isack like to sleep? of course, but he loves doing it with his girlfriend a whole lot more.

[isacksteban]

Weather App — Isacksteban

The forecast that day promised a beautiful December afternoon. Sunny skies and unseasonably warm weather, with a high of 11 degrees. In other words, the perfect day to walk rather than drive to meet up with a friend. The exercise would be refreshing, and the weather seemed ideal for it.

That was the tragically misleading thought process that led one Isack, two blocks from Esteban’s apartment, to end up caught in a downpour. An insanely freezing cold downpour.

Without an umbrella or even a hood to pull up for protection, he sprinted, splashing through quickly forming puddles on the poorly-draining concrete. Of-fucking-course this was just his luck — this wasn’t some nice little drizzle. No, this was a downpour. The kind where you can’t see five feet in front of you. Rain streamed into his eyes, blinding him despite his hands being thrown up to shield his face. Even if his vision weren’t obscured by the deluge, he wouldn’t be seeing much beyond a gray-foggy curtain of water. He could only thank God — or whoever the hell was listening — that there wasn’t also hail. At least he was only soaked through, rather than soaked and dodging ice balls. Positive thinking, and all that.

When he finally sloshed up to Esteban’s door, it took a solid five seconds of blinking the rain out of his eyes to press the correct buzzer. Thankfully, Esteban let him in quickly — because why would his posh ass apartment have an awning or a lobby? That would make Isack’s life far too easy.

He squished his way over to the elevator, shooting the concerned-looking lobby attendant a wave. He knew he must look like a drowned rat. Rainwater dripped from his hair — which was plastered to his head — and trailed down his neck into his soaked crewneck. He was probably leaving a puddle with every step, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Luckily, the elevator was empty, and he didn’t run into anyone as he walked soggily down the hall, allowing him to complete the rest of his walk of unprepared shame in peace.

If nothing else, Esteban’s expression when he opened the door to a waterlogged Isack was absolutely priceless.

Isack wheezed with laughter, bent over with the force of it at Esteban’s face. He was sure he looked like a sight, but Esteban had cycled through every emotion — confusion, concern, amusement, disgust, and back to confusion — in record time.

“What the hell happened to you?” Esteban asked when Isack had composed himself enough to at least stand upright again. “Are you seriously making a literal puddle in the hallway?”

“In my defense, the weather app said it was supposed to be ‘sunny and beautiful’ all day,” Isack said, pushing past Esteban to relocate his puddle from the hall to the entryway. “It caught me two blocks away. Longest two blocks of my life.” He started to shiver as his cold, wet clothes continued to leech away his body heat.

Esteban still looked like an interesting mix of startled and confused, but upon seeing Isack shivering, he sprang into action.

“Well, start by getting out of that wet stuff,” Esteban ordered, already moving deeper into the apartment to grab a towel and something dry to wear. “My floor has seen enough without adding water damage to the list.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isack grumbled, but he had to admit, being out of his sopping wet clothes was sounding better and better by the second. He kicked off his sneakers, wincing at the wet thud they made against the floor. Yeah, those might be ruined. His socks followed.

He debated a moment about the rest, not exactly wanting to strip completely naked in the entryway of his friend’s home, but a cool draft from a poorly-sealed nearby window made the decision for him. He shoved his crewneck off, letting it plop to the floor in a soggy mass. His jeans were next, the rainwater making them stick to his skin as he tried to peel them off. Every inch of skin revealed was red, the wind and rain having bitten straight through the fabric.

That was when Esteban returned, doing a double take at Isack, shivering there in nothing but his soaked boxers. “Jesus, you’re gonna catch a fucking cold,” he said, shoving the towel into Isack’s shaking hands quickly. “Dry off and then come change. You can borrow some of my stuff while yours dries.”

Isack took the offered towel gratefully, his teeth starting to chatter as he briskly toweled off. Wrapping the damp towel around himself like a blanket — a very, very small blanket — he followed Esteban’s finger to the bedroom, where a dry pair of sweatpants and a hoodie were piled on the bed. He was pretty sure he had never gotten naked so fast. He shoved his wet boxers to the floor, the towel following behind, as he greedily pulled on the dry items.

Dressed, dry, and starting to warm up, Isack could’ve cried at the feeling of soft, dry fabric against his skin. He couldn’t even bring himself to mind that he had nothing on underneath — the blissful sensation of dryness overrode everything else. He was pretty sure he had never worn anything so comfortable in his entire life.

A knock at the door startled Isack out of his private moment of blissful communion with the clothes.

“Yeah, come in, I’m decent,” Isack called out.

Esteban stepped into the room, his eyes darting to the wet boxers on the floor before landing on Isack. “Dude, water damage, remember?” Esteban said, pointing to the sopping fabric that was already creating its own miniature puddle. Isack was starting to sense a theme with the puddles today, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too euphoric at being dry and warm again.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, swiping the offending article of clothing up and bringing it back out to the main area where his other clothes were waiting. He made sure to hold it far away from himself, so as not to let the water seep onto his new clothes, and dropped it to join the rest of the soggy pile on the floor as soon as he could.

This earned him an irritated noise as Esteban swooped in to snatch the entire pile up, looking mournfully at the water they left behind. He had no in-unit dryer — now that Isack was thinking about it, this place really was a waste of Esteban's money — so the best they could do was stretch out the already damp towel, along with its slightly drier twin, and lay the clothes on top, as close to a vent as possible. Hopefully, they would dry sometime before the next century, at least enough for Isack to bring them home to be properly washed and dried with the rest of his laundry.

In the meantime, Isack didn’t look too perturbed, snuggling blatantly into the cozy sweats he had borrowed. They were ones he recognized, having seen Esteban in them plenty of times, and there was something kind of nice about being so cozy while also completely and inescapably wrapped up in Esteban’s familiar and comforting scent.

Energized now, Isack wandered over to the small couch crammed in front of a much larger TV.

“Wanna lose at Smash?” he taunted, picking up a controller in anticipation even as he flopped back onto the couch, taking up far more than his fair share of the small thing.

“Fuck off, you’re always cheating,” Esteban shot back, but that didn’t stop him from picking up a controller as well, shoving Isack’s leg aside until he could squeeze onto the couch beside him.

They played a few good rounds, each getting a win, before Isack sat back, annoyed. He shoved at the sleeves draping over his fingertips, irritated by the slightly too-long fabric getting in the way at crucial moments.

“No fair,” he whined. “Your stupid sweatshirt keeps tripping me up. You’re basically cheating by proxy or whatever…. Esteban, are you even listening?” Isack snapped, flopping the long sleeve in his friend’s face demonstratively.

Perplexed, he watched as Esteban’s eyes seemed almost locked on the extra bit of fabric before breaking away and scanning over Isack as if he was seeing him for the first time. Esteban’s eyes seemed to catch — and linger — on the areas where his sweatshirt was just a little too big.

It dangled over his fingers, of course, but it was also gaping around his neck, letting his shoulder peek out a little more than his own clothes would. It sat loose around his chest and stomach, the extra fabric forming folds. The bottom hem lay somewhere around his upper thigh, longer than anything he would typically wear. The sweatpants were equally loose, the waistband sitting lax, so Isack had to keep pulling it up whenever he got overexcited and flailed around a little too much. The hem of the pants crept low to cover his feet, something he was taking full advantage of to protect his toes from the cold of Esteban’s bad heating system — his apartment truly was a shit show.

At the end of the once-over, Esteban’s eyes snapped up again, seeming to linger somewhere between the exposed skin of Isack’s shoulder and the loose fabric covering his fingers, like he couldn’t decide what was more captivating. Isack was a little surprised by the reaction but quickly realized that, all else aside, this was going to be great for the game.

“Oh, you know what, whatever, let’s play again,” Isack said, shoving the sleeves up his arms as best he could to grab the controller fully again.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure,” Esteban said, managing to refocus back on the screen, though it took a few long seconds. Isack made sure to take full advantage of that distraction, choosing his favorite stage and character before Esteban could reorient himself enough to protest.

As they started to play, Isack waited until his health was down, Esteban equally damaged but at an advantage as he moved in for a killing blow. Just as Esteban was about to shoot him off, Isack jostled him, making sure the motion dragged down the shoulder of his sweatshirt even more until his skin was exposed nearly deltoid to neck.

“Oops. Sorry,” he said insincerely as Esteban looked over to yell at him, only for his eyes to go wide as he stared instead at the skin bared by the loose clothing. Taking full advantage once more, Isack quickly rearranged his character, shooting at Esteban until he was the one who went flying to his death.

That got Esteban refocused on the game rather quickly.

“Hey!” he protested. “What the hell, you’re cheating! You bumped me!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you fell off when I did. I shot you off fair and square when you weren’t paying attention,” Isack argued back, smiling at the fact that his little trick worked. This was really going to help boost his admittedly abysmal Smash record. He tugged the loose fabric back up to cover his shoulder properly once more, huffing as he once again had to shove up his sleeves so they would stay out of his way. “Wanna go again?”

Way too many rounds of Smash later, Isack was pretty sure this was his best win record ever. Sure, Esteban got in a few rounds, but Isack got him back just as many, if not more. Some of them were fair and square, but he would admit to taking advantage of his newfound trick every once in a while when he saw himself falling behind.

Sometimes he would orchestrate it so the sweatshirt slipped down his shoulder. Other times, he would whine to Esteban about the overlong sleeves and draw his attention to the way his fingers barely poked out. Once, when he was particularly in need of a win, he slid forward on the couch enough for the sweatpants to slip just a tiny bit, baring a bit of his hip where the sweatshirt was hiked up from him sitting. That had been a pretty monumental victory — plus, he was pretty sure the resulting distraction carried well into the next round.

When they both finally grew tired of their friendly competition, they had a small debate about what to do next. Isack’s idea of a movie won out, as he managed to persuasively argue that there was no better thing for a rainy, cold day than a cozy movie. He had never been more comfortable in his entire life than he was right then, sitting beside Esteban — who was basically a space heater — on the small couch, wrapped up in the softest, warmest sweats he had ever worn, as the rain pounded against the windows. It was perfect, and the only thing that could even slightly make it better was adding a nice movie to relax to.

Esteban couldn’t argue with that unimpeachable logic, so he gave in without much of a fight. They then had another debate about what to watch, but this time Esteban was the winner. He argued that if Isack was the one to pick the activity, he should at least get to pick what they watched. Isack reluctantly agreed, with the stipulation that he could veto it if it sucked.

They were both satisfied as they sunk back into the couch, some random mindless movie pulled up on the screen.

“Wait, go turn off the lights,” Isack demanded as the titles began to play, slightly dimmed against the bright room.

“Ugh, why don’t you do it?” Esteban shot back, even though he was already standing to do it himself. He had had that argument one too many times before and was starting to learn the futility of it. “Anything else, princess?” he asked, teasing, as he returned to the couch, lights appropriately dimmed to Isack standards.

“You have to admit I’m right,” Isack responded smugly from where he had once again splayed across the couch in Esteban’s short absence. The screen was already much clearer, even with the picture paused.

“You’re in my seat again,” Esteban said, ignoring his comment as he shoved Isack’s legs out of the way again.

“You need a bigger couch,” Isack grumbled as he allowed Esteban to move him back to a normal seated pose rather than lying across the furniture.

“Too expensive,” Esteban responded easily, following the well-trodden path of an argument they’ve had a hundred times before. “Plus, it works just fine.”

“Too expensive,” Isack huffed sarcastically, squirming around and making sure to bump into Esteban as much as possible to prove his point about the lack of space. Of course, he was more than happy with the current arrangements. It certainly added to the cozy vibes, and as he’d noticed before, Esteban was a veritable space heater, so if anything, he wanted to get closer, not further away. At least for the duration of this latest cold snap. And probably longer, if he was being honest with himself.

“Stop squirming and sit still,” Esteban said with a laugh, grabbing at Isack in an effort to make him cooperate.

It very quickly devolved into a full on wrestling match within the confines of the tiny sofa. 

In the end, they somehow managed not to fall off the tiny thing or break it, just barely. They were both panting for air, unable to catch their breath between wheezing laughter and exertion. Through a silent but mutual desire to not suffocate, they stopped, frozen in their last position, as they tried not to look at each other for a moment lest they start laughing all over again. 

Isack shifted slightly where he was practically straddling Esteban’s hips, hands on Esteban’s chest from where he had been trying to hold the other down. Esteban was equally askew, one leg on the couch and one braced on the floor, most likely the main reason they were not also on the floor. His hands were on Isack’s hips, where he had been ready to throw him off before they paused.

As they both slowly recovered from the impromptu exertion, Esteban’s eyes were once again caught, as they had been all night, by the sight of Isack in his clothes. He couldn't get enough at how the clothes that fit Esteban just a little loose were almost swimming on Isack’s frame. In their tussle, the sweatshirt had come to completely cover his hands where they were resting lightly now on Esteban’s chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. Scandalously, the sweatpants were more askew, hanging low on Isack’s hips. His modesty was only kept by the scantest inch of loose elastic and the length of his sweatshirt where it pooled around his thighs.

Esteban was suddenly hyper-aware of the feel of bare skin under his hands, where he had unconsciously shifted to grip at Isack directly instead of the far more slippery sweatshirt in the struggle. He was equally mortified to realize that his fingers had been absently petting little circles into the soft skin of Isack’s waist and hip where he had previously been looking for leverage.

Then again, Isack didn’t seem to mind, if the way he was leaning into the touch was any indication.

As if they both came to a realization of just how their position looked at the same time, their eyes met, tension suddenly snapping between them in a way that was almost as palpable as the lightning cracking outside. They both froze, perfectly still for a long second.

A soft boom of thunder in the distance startled them into movement once more, Isack jumping slightly at the sudden noise. Esteban, broken from his own trance, tentatively swept his fingers across Isack’s hip once more, though this time, the gesture was far from an accident. Neither of them seemed completely sure of what they were doing, while, at the same time, knowing exactly where this was going to lead. Each testing movement felt like a pebble in the snow, rolling itself into a larger and larger ball until it was unstoppable. They knew exactly where this was going to end up — if neither of them stopped it.

Isack pressed back into Esteban’s hand, all pretense of unintentionally gone in the slow, deliberate movement, eyes never breaking away from Esteban’s. It was like a dam breaking, suddenly, a floodgate as the metaphorical snowball hit the critical tipping point beyond which there was no stopping it. The TV glowing beside them, the rain, the cramped couch, all of it was forgotten as their mouths met hard.

Unable to think anything beyond “more,” Isack’s hands shifted as his weight moved forward, slipping up to wrap around Esteban’s head and hold him closer. Esteban was equally overcome, yanking Isack closer by the waist until they were flush together, lips and tongues and hands meeting in a fury of passion that rivaled the mounting storm outside.

They lost long moments to that embrace, learning each other for the first time in a completely new way — one of the last unexplored frontiers of their long friendship.

When they finally separated again, they both looked a mess, hair and clothes askew from wandering hands. Their eyes met as they caught their breath, coming down from the intensity that spurred them to action.

“Hey,” Isack said, the first to speak, unsure of what to say but wanting to say something.

“Hey,” Esteban echoed with a smile, clearly happy with what had just happened.

Isack caught himself grinning without a second thought, the reality of what they’d just done sinking in. It should have been a moment of uncertainty, the kind that left people fumbling for excuses or awkwardly retreating, but instead, they stayed where they were — wrapped in the simplicity of it all, like this was exactly how it was meant to be.

“Do you wanna...?” Isack asked softly, his voice trailing off as he stumbled over his words. He wanted to continue, to explore further, but he couldn’t quite find the courage to say it out loud.

Esteban seemed to understand anyway, and even better, he felt the same.

“Hell yeah,” Esteban replied, sitting up suddenly and sending Isack slightly off balance. They untangled themselves with shared laughter, slipping off the couch in a messy, ungraceful way that somehow only added to the ease between them. What could have been awkward was instead infused with a natural rhythm, as though this connection was meant to unfold just like this.

As they walked down the hallway together, Esteban reached out to grab Isack’s hand, a quiet but firm insistence that even a momentary distance was too much. Isack chuckled at the gesture, though his smile deepened at the warmth of Esteban’s touch, the blatant affection making his chest tighten in the best way.

By the time they reached the bedroom, hesitation was a distant memory. They moved to the bed without pause, Isack letting Esteban guide him onto the soft surface. The moment they came together again, the kiss they shared was slower this time — less about burning urgency and more about savoring. They took the time to feel each other out, letting the earlier intensity mellow into something more tender.

It wasn’t long before Esteban’s shirt was cast aside, his jeans undone with eager hands. Isack tugged at his borrowed sweatshirt, ready to sacrifice its comfort for something far more enticing, when Esteban stopped him.

“Leave it,” Esteban murmured, gently pulling Isack’s arms back down. “I like it on you.”

Isack blinked, momentarily confused and a little offended. Did Esteban prefer the sweatshirt to seeing him bare? But as the words settled, the pieces fell into place.

“Why?” Isack asked, needing to hear it spelled out.

Esteban flushed a deep red, averting his gaze briefly before mumbling, “I don’t know. It’s cute. You, in my clothes.”

A slow, mischievous grin spread across Isack’s face, and Esteban realized he had just given away far too much.

“Oh, really?” Isack teased, letting the sleeves drop back down to cover his fingers. “Like this?”

“God, Isack,” Esteban groaned, captivated despite himself. There was something about seeing Isack dwarfed by his sweatshirt, the way it made him look smaller and softer, that was utterly intoxicating.

Unable to hold back, Esteban pulled Isack into his lap, straddling his hips as they kissed again. The intensity ramped up quickly, Esteban’s lips finding Isack’s neck, leaving marks that Isack yelped and moaned at, the sensations sending sparks racing through him. Isack pressed closer, every touch electric and charged, his body responding instinctively to every brush of Esteban’s mouth and hands.

The sweatshirt stayed on, even as more barriers were shed. By the time they were down to just that and Esteban’s boxers, the contrast was staggering — Isack’s bare legs tangled with Esteban’s, the oversized sweatshirt pooling over him like a second skin. It was a vision that Esteban couldn’t tear his eyes away from, a moment that etched itself into his memory as perfect.

As their movements grew more heated, Esteban reached for the bedside table, his hand brushing against Isack’s as they both worked toward the same goal. Esteban’s touch was careful yet unhesitating, his voice soft but steady as he asked for consent at every turn. And when Isack nodded, a mixture of eagerness and nerves flashing in his eyes, Esteban felt a surge of affection so powerful it left him breathless.

Each step forward was new, but it all felt right — perfectly in tune with the connection they’d found. The room filled with the sounds of breathless gasps and whispered names, their world narrowing to just the two of them. It was intense, overwhelming, and unlike anything Isack had ever imagined, a feeling that took root deep in his chest and refused to let go.

When they finally collapsed back onto the bed, spent and sated, Isack turned to Esteban with a grin. “So… you like the sweatshirt, huh?”

Esteban groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Isack teased, pulling him in for one more kiss. “Well, maybe if you move in with me.”

Esteban's head jerked up in surprise, his hands falling to the bed as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at Isack. “What did you just say?”

Isack’s grin only widened, the playful glint in his eyes softening into something more sincere. “I’m serious. Move in with me. I mean… this feels right, doesn’t it? Everything. Us.” His voice was quieter now, more vulnerable as the weight of the words hit him. “And, your apartment fucking sucks, dude."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the only sound between them their steady breathing, the quiet hum of a night that felt far too perfect to be just a fleeting moment. Esteban stayed silent for a beat, his mind racing through the implications, the intensity of what they’d just shared — and what moving in together might actually mean. He didn’t have to search for the truth in his heart, though; he already knew.

“I— Isack,” Esteban began, his voice thick with emotion. He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed now, running his fingers through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. “You’re not messing around with this, are you? You really want me to move in.”

Isack sat up beside him, the earnestness of his expression making Esteban’s chest tighten. He placed a hand on Esteban’s shoulder, guiding him back down so they were facing each other again. “I’m not messing around,” he said softly. “You don't have to, I just figured you'd enjoy a washing machine and a bigger sofa.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” Esteban asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not just caught up in the moment.”

Isack shook his head, the sincerity in his eyes unshakable. “No. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Now can you just say yes so I can stop freaking out inside? I think I'm gonna throw up.”

Esteban let out a short, surprised laugh, the nervous tension between them dissipating for a moment. But he still couldn’t stop the way his heart was racing. He reached out, brushing his fingers against Isack’s, the simple contact grounding him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone in this.

“You’re really serious,” Esteban said, more to himself than to Isack. He had always been cautious, always considered every possibility, every angle before making any decision. But with Isack, it felt different — there was no need for hesitation.

“Yeah,” Isack replied, his voice firm yet filled with that same vulnerability. “I’m serious. I mean… we’ve been through a lot together already, right? So…? You want to share a fridge, a washing machinr, and maybe even a couch that can fit us both?"

Esteban looked at him, really looked at him, and in that moment, he realized just how much he had come to care for this guy. It wasn’t about the apartment or the washing machine — it was about the person who was offering him all of this. The warmth, the kindness, the trust. It was something he hadn’t expected, but now that it was here, he couldn’t imagine letting it go.

Without another word, Esteban leaned in, capturing Isack’s lips in a kiss that was softer, slower, but filled with more meaning than anything they’d shared before. It wasn’t just about the words, or the promise — it was about the quiet understanding that whatever happened next, they were in it together.

When they pulled apart, Esteban’s smile was small, but it was full of that same certainty that Isack had shown him. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll move in. But you better make sure there’s room for my stuff.”

Isack let out a breath of relief, his grin returning in full force. “Deal. And, uh, for the record, the washing machine is already yours. But if you bring more plants, I’m going to need a bigger shelf.”

Esteban laughed, the tension gone, replaced by the ease of knowing they were on the same page. “We’ll see about that,” he teased, before leaning in for one more kiss, this time lingering longer, savoring this, them.

[isacksteban]

Beautiful — Isacksteban

for my @ellearts based on her art

The room was enveloped in a hushed stillness, the golden light of late afternoon spilling through the windows, painting long, soft-edged shadows across the walls. The air felt thick with unspoken tension, a quiet intimacy lingering like a delicate thread waiting to be pulled.

Isack stood by the window, leaning against the cool glass, his gaze distant and unfocused as he watched the world outside. His long caracal tail swayed in a slow, languid rhythm, betraying the constant restless energy that never truly left him, even in moments of quiet. The light played across his features, catching the faint sheen of his dark hair and the curve of his cheekbones.

Behind him, Esteban moved closer, his steps measured and deliberate, the soft scuff of his boots barely audible against the wooden floor. His presence was grounding, a quiet authority that seemed to fill the room without effort — there was always a power imbalance between them, but that was part of the apeal. The subtle twitch of his Maine Coon ears betrayed his alertness, his calm exterior unable to completely mask the way his soft eyes were scanning Isack’s face with unspoken affection.

“What?” Isack finally asked, his voice breaking the silence, soft but tinged with curiosity rather than defensiveness. His head tilted slightly, one of his long, fluffy ears flicking toward Esteban as though drawn by the other man’s energy.

Esteban didn’t answer immediately. He let the question hang in the air, stepping closer until the faintest scent of his cologne reached Isack. His hand rose slowly, deliberate in its movement as he brushed a stray strand of hair from Isack’s face — the shorter animal refusing to get his hair cut during the off season. His fingers lingered at the base of Isack’s ear, the touch light yet reverent, as though afraid to disturb the fragile peace between them. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words low and steady, carrying a weight that made them feel more than just a compliment.

Isack’s breath caught at the simplicity of the statement, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that suddenly felt too fast. His tail stilled for a moment before curling slightly, displaying the flustered energy he couldn’t suppress. A faint flush crept up his cheeks, softening his sharp features. “You always say that,” he muttered, turning his head away as though the words were too much to bear. But his voice lacked conviction, the edges of his protest softened by the faintest tremor.

Esteban, however, wasn’t willing to let him retreat into himself. His large hand moved to cup Isack’s face, tilting it upward until their eyes met. The gentle firmness of his touch spoke volumes, grounding Isack and keeping him from slipping away. “I’ll keep saying it,” Esteban said, his voice unwavering now, the words carrying a sense of quiet determination that left no room for doubt.

Leaning in, he pressed his lips to the mole on the bridge of Isack’s nose, the kiss so soft it felt like a whisper against his skin. Then, as if to anchor the moment further, he moved to the mole just millimeters lower, the second kiss lingering longer. There was a hesitance in his actions, a carefulness that made each gesture feel deliberate, almost sacred. But when he finally pulled back, his gaze burned with a heat that made Isack shiver, the intensity of it cutting through the golden haze of the room. In that moment, nothing else seemed to matter but the space they shared, the air between them electric with unspoken words.

Without hesitation, Esteban closed the short space between them, his lips capturing Isack’s in a kiss that started gentle but quickly burned with a deeper intensity. His hands slid down with purpose, settling firmly on Isack’s hips and holding him as though anchoring them both — keeping Isack from drifting away. The kiss deepened almost immediately, Esteban’s lips moving against Isack’s with an urgency that made Isack’s knees feel weak and his breath hitch in his throat. Isack’s hands flew to Esteban’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as though they were the only thing keeping him grounded.

His tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, coiled around Esteban’s waist, pulling their bodies closer until there was no space left between them. Esteban responded in kind, his hands tightening on Isack’s hips, drawing him flush against his taller frame. Their bodies fit together in a way that felt effortless despite their differences, as though they were two halves of a puzzle clicking into place. Esteban tilted his head, deepening the kiss further, his sharp canines grazing Isack’s bottom lip just enough to draw a soft, involuntary gasp from him.

The sound sent a surge of heat through Esteban, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest as his hand slid up Isack’s back. His fingers tangled in Isack’s hair just below his ears, the touch both possessive and tender. Isack melted under the attention, his body instinctively leaning into Esteban as though seeking more of the contact. His hands moved up from Esteban’s shoulders to clutch the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric as if he could somehow pull them even closer.

Esteban kissed him again and again, each one longer and more intense than the last, as if he were memorizing every curve and softness of Isack’s lips — as if the past two years weren't enough. Their movements were unhurried yet desperate, a contradiction that left them both breathless. Esteban pulled back only slightly, letting his lips brush teasingly against Isack’s before diving in once more, drawing a shaky moan from the other man that seemed to echo in the golden quiet of the room.

Isack’s tail tightened around Esteban’s waist, his cheeks flushed a deep red as the heat between them built. Esteban didn’t relent, moving his mouth along Isack’s jawline and leaving a trail of heated kisses that made Isack shiver. When he reached the sensitive spot just beneath Isack’s ear, he bit down lightly, eliciting a startled whimper that turned into a soft sigh as Esteban soothed the spot with his tongue.

“Este,” Isack breathed, his voice trembling with emotion as he clung to him. Esteban’s response was another kiss, firm and unyielding, his hands roaming Isack’s back and sides, mapping every curve and line of his body. The kiss was consuming, leaving Isack lightheaded and trembling, his golden eyes half-lidded and bright with emotion when Esteban finally pulled back.

Both of them were gasping for air, their foreheads pressed together, the world seeming to spin around them. Isack’s lips were swollen and reddened, his skin flushed, and his hair a mussed mess from Esteban’s fingers. “Y’don’t play fair,” he muttered, though the words came out soft and breathless, devoid of any real complaint.

Esteban smirked, his hand still cradling the back of Isack’s head, fingers gently combing through his hair. “I wasn’t trying to,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. He leaned in again, capturing Isack’s lips in another kiss, this one slower but no less consuming.

Isack surrendered completely, his body softening against Esteban as he let himself get lost in the warmth, the closeness, and the way their lips moved together in perfect harmony. Time seemed to stretch and blur, and for that moment, there was nothing else — just them, and the golden light, and the unspoken feelings pouring out through each kiss.