☆ isack hadjar (ih6)

fucking you raw and finishing on your ass

grinding on him and jacking him off

pathetically grabbing your ass

giving him desk support

softly stretching your pretty cunt

making you cum with your wet panties still on

fingering you as he drives

fucking you in cute thigh highs

nerdy weeb fucking you in socks again

fucking you face down ass up

☆ lia's birthday calendar

day 29: praise x isack (ih6)

⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

☆ warnings: switchy!isack x new gf!reader, huge breeding kink, ovulating!reader, fingering, protected p in v, isack is a good boy, isack is kinda shy but so horny, praise kink (duh), soft degradation, lowkey kink discovery? ⋆ inspo: (x)(x)(x)

⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

it’s been three weeks.

three weeks since you last felt the specific, heavy heat of isack near you.

it's a new relationship. still slowly getting to know isack. getting to know his body. and three weeks give you a lot of time to build up a mental image of what you haven't experienced yet.

a mental need.

isack is slumped back against a mountain of pillows. one arm slung over behind you. focused on the tv. every time you shift, your thigh brushes the cotton of his sweatpants.

neither of you pulls away.

the contact is constant. comforting.

you reach into the bag of crisps sitting between his thighs. your fingers graze the fabric of his crotch. his reaction is instant. but quiet.

a little hitched breath. a sharp inhale that catches in his throat. his eyes remained glued to the tv.

"you're not even watching," he murmurs.

his voice is low, still raspy from a long flight to you. he still doesn’t look at you. his eyes are fixed on the screen but his leg starts bouncing.

a cute little nervous twitch.

"i am."

isack snorts softly, finally turning his head towards you. his hair is a soft mess, crushed against the pillow. his eyes are dark, the pupils already a little wider than they should be.

he looks at the nearly empty bag of chips. then back at you. a small, knowing smirk tugs at his mouth.

"you’ve finished nearly the whole bag, cherie."

isack's thumb catches a stray grain of salt on your bottom lip. he's dragging his finger slowly on your skin.

he leaves his hand there, cupping your jaw.

"is it that time? do i need to be a gentleman and go get chocolate before the shops close?"

a gentleman. that tentative label. not a boyfriend yet. but not a stranger, either.

he's teasing.

his gaze locked onto your lips, giving you a filthy little hint. you lean back against the headboard and look at him directly.

he can tease. and you can tease back.

"actually, no. i’m ovulating."

the silence is thick. almost absolute.

isack doesn't move. doesn't even blink. he just stares at you.

he's thinking about it. the biology of it. the heat. the filth. the slickness. the way his body is just so responsive to that one specific sentence.

that little detail.

he swallows hard. his adam’s apple bobs in a sharp little movement. he tries to look back at the tv. tries to focus on whatever the fuck is going on there.

but his body isn't listening.

isack shifts, a clumsy adjustment of his hips. the fabric of his sweatpants strains. a thick bulge visible against his thigh. pulsing.

his gaze drops from your eyes to your throat. then even lower.

"isa…" you murmur, sliding your leg over his.

the heat of his hardening cock is pressing through the fabric. "why are you so turned on?"

he lets out a sound.

half groan, half laugh, burying his face in his hands. his face is red, the flush spreading down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his hoodie.

"how can i not be?" he rasps, his voice cracking into that raw register. "putain… you can’t just say that."

"why not?"

"my head just… been feeling like a mess since the airport. and then you say that and i just-"

he shakes his head. "i’m just really into you, you know? it’s not fair."

he looks at you. eyes glassy with a mix of raw desperation.

that unfiltered daze becoming something darker. he reaches out, his hand trembling as he slides it under the hem of your shirt.

his touch is warm. he’s not being smooth, he’s fumbling slightly. his palm grazes your ribs, his touch heavy and desperate.

"i want to make you feel good. i want to be good to you." he whispers.

your breath hitches.

"can i?" he starts, then stops.

his jaw clenches, waiting for a response. you nodded slowly. and that's all isack needs.

he crawls closer to you, his body hovering over yours. the weight of him makes the bed dip. he moves slow. not because he’s composed, he's almost fucking losing it. but because he’s terrified of rushing.

it's still so new for you to be together like this. he's terrified of messing this up for you.

his hand slides down. hesitant. he finds the lace of your underwear and his fingers finally slide underneath. but not low enough.

he lets out a sharp, choked groan. you feel it vibrate against your neck. his fingertips tease your skin.

"wanna make you feel good." he whispers muffled against your skin.

his forehead drops to yours.

"i've been thinking about it. every night. just- being back here. with my pretty girl. doing this."

his hand slides lower into your underwear.

he’s clumsy, but god he's so sweet. his fingers are twitching yet so focused.

he feels you. your cunt is soaked. the honeyed and heavy slickness of your ovulation has turned you into the prettiest mess for him. the second his fingers slide into your cunt, he freezes. that warmth. fuck.

he stays there buried in you. his breath hitching in his chest.

"you're so wet." he mumbles, the words being dragged out of him. "fuck. you feel so good already, oh my god."

"isa, please. do something."

he moves his fingers. it's not a polished rhythm, it’s hesitant. tentative. he's leaning over you, his eyes fixed on where his hand disappears between your legs. he's almost fascinated by the sound. the soft, wet sound of his fingers sliding into your core. it's going straight to his cock.

he wants you. and you want him.

"listen to that, so fucking wet. such pretty sounds." he whispers, his voice dropping into that raw tone.

his thumb finds your clit. he's not subtle anymore. he's circling your clit with desperate pressure. your back arches off the bed. isack looks at your pretty face. your eyes are shut in pure fucking pleasure. little broken moans escape your throat. holy shit.

isack fucking whimpers. a thin sound escaping the back of his throat.

his own need is getting too much. his cock is throbbing against his stomach. his thumb is still circling your clit. his fingers keep dragging in and out of your cunt. that soft sweet drag. he doesn’t stop.

he’s obsessed with the way your body is reacting to him.

"that's it, my girl. so good." he praises, his voice low. "you're such a good girl for me. fuck. you're cumming aren't you?"

the feeling of his thick fingers. the heat of his gaze. the constant rhythmic pressure of his thumb. it's all too much. and so fucking good. you’re already on the edge. you grab onto his forearms, your nails digging in. your breath is broken. frantic.

"isack-"

"i’ve got you." he gasps. "just do it. let it go. be a good girl and cum for me."

and that's it. you shatter.

your body tenses. a long broken moan is ripped from your throat as you cum hard around his fingers. you clench around his fingers. the heat, the tightness. it's driving isack insane.

he pulls his fingers away, still dripping with you. he looks at you properly. face flushed, eyes heavy. he's also dazed, just fucking lost in you. his cock is leaking a heavy bead of precum. it soaks through his sweatpants.

you notice it. you want it.

your hands trace his thighs softly until you’re finally playing with his waistband. you dip his hand beneath his pants and pull his cock out. you squeeze your hand around his cock. it leaks even more.

he looks at you. eyes glassy and cheeks so pink.

isack reaches for his nightstand, his movements all clumsy again. he fumbles with the condom, his fingers trembling so much he can't get the foil packet to tear.

he lets out a frustrated, needy whine.

"fuck- come on.."

you reach out, shifting your steady hand from his cock towards his hand instead. you take the packet, tearing it easily.

you pause for a bit and look at his cock.

he’s thick. veiny. heavy and hard. your core is aching again.

his hips twitch up into your hand at the slightest touch. you slide the condom over him and his hips jerk up as you roll the condom down. he looks so good. so desperate. so pathetic.

"thank you…" he whispers, completely fucked out already.

you take off your soaked underwear and he positions himself between your thighs. his eyes lock onto yours, gently asking for permission.

you nod.

he pushes in. slowly.

he's thick, the stretch feeling so heavy and deep. he’s bottoming out, filling every inch of you. it's so fucking intense. he drops his forehead to your shoulder. his chest is pounding against yours.

"you feel- fuck. you're so tight."

his voice is a wreck. he's rambling.

"i want to…i want to fucking breed you. make you so full of me that you can't even think about anything else. gonna make you forget your name. gonna make you so full with my cum. you're so pretty, holy shit."

the second the words leave his mouth, he freezes.

he goes completely still inside you, afraid to move after saying it. his eyes go wide. the blush returns instantly. heat floods his face, the hesitation seeping back through.

"i- oh my god. that was too much. please ignore that, i just-"

"isack," you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. pulling his cock deeper inside your cunt. "don't you fucking dare stop. keep going. harder, please."

he blinks.

a spark of something feral hits his brown eyes. the shock fades quickly into something more primal.

"harder?"

"yes. ruin me, please."

fuck.

you're so fucking good to him. he snaps.

he grabs your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. he drives his cock into you. so harsh. so messy. his cockhead hits your cervix each time he slams his cock inside your cunt. his warm hands pin your hips down. making you take it. making you take all of it.

he’s hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

his movements are becoming more aggressive. more desperate. little beads of sweat form over his thick shoulders. he’s muttering in french now, the words lost in the heat of the room. lost in the dirty sounds of your skin slapping. in the dirty sounds of your ovulating cunt.

"am i doing good?" he whines, completely lost as he keeps pounding your cunt.

"so fucking good, isa." you moan, your head pushed back against the pillows with each of his harsh thrusts. "you’re so big… fuck. harder. don’t stop, please."

he matches your need, his thrusts becoming more erratic. more desperate and messy.

he’s lost in it.

completely lost in your pretty sounds and your pretty cunt. he’s consumed by all of you.

he’s watching the way your tits bounce. the way your eyes roll back. the way your mouth hangs open. he’s feeding on your pleasure, trying to hold back to make it last. but you’re clenching around him, your sweet cunt squeezing his needy cock.

your body is desperately begging for his cum.

"you’re being such a good slut for me." he groans, the filthiness slipping out again.

but this time, he doesn't apologize. he just fucks deeper into you. harder. his jaw locked. his grip tightening.

"i can't…i’m gonna-"

"do it, isa. fill me up, please. be a good boy for me."

holy shit. that's it. that's isack’s final trigger.

he stutters mid thrust. loses complete focus and he lets out an unfiltered sound of pure relief.

his hands grip onto your hips as he shatters inside you. he spills his cum into the condom until he's all empty. his whole body goes rigid. his breath comes in broken little gasps. his cock is still pulsing into you, completely spent.

isack collapses onto you. his weight feels heavy and grounding. his skin is burning hot. he buries his face in your neck, his heart still hammering.

the room feels heavy and warm. everything is quiet again, apart from the hum of the tv and the sound of your broken little breaths.

for awhile, neither of you moves. the sweat is cooling on your skin. the silence is stretching out, comfortable and thick.

isack lifts his head.

still bright red but with a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. he looks soft.

"i really said all that…the breeding thing," he whispers, his accent coming out thicker now that he's tired. "and the slut thing. oh my god."

you reach up, stroking his hair. you move a stray hair away from his damp forehead. "honestly it was really hot, isa."

he nuzzles back into your neck. quieter now. his fingers tracing lazy absent circles on your hip.

"i think i’m gonna need to do it again. in like twenty minutes."

you laugh softly, pulling him closer. "good boy."

"yeah, that's definitely fucking doing something."

──── ☆☆☆

© liafics

switchy isack is canon to me idc what anyone else says

☆ pause and rewind: isack hadjar (ih6)

next >

☆ lia yaps: fem!reader and isack are both softly crushing on each other. their dates are usually very sweet; anime marathons, shared hoodies and snacks. eventually, things stop being so innocent. 18+ mdni

☆ warnings: p in v, virginity loss (both), praise, needy isack, smut - wc: 2.5k

your eyes keep dragging towards isack instead of the anime. his curls are pushed back with one hand resting at the nape of his neck. his hoodie sleeves are shoved up his forearms. your thighs brush against each other.

you shift slightly. so does he.

neither of you pull away.

“are you actually watching, or just pretending?” you whisper, almost teasing.

isack snorts softly. “i was. but you keep looking at me like that, no?”

your face heats instantly. “like what?”

he grins, turning his head to you. “like i’m more interesting than the episode.”

you raise a brow. “are you not?”

he’s quiet for a beat, then smiles wider. a little crooked. a little shy. “maybe. if i’m lucky.”

you bite your lip. the way he responds makes your chest ache in the best way. your fingers twitch under the blanket, close to his.

“you’re nervous,” he says gently. not accusing, just noticing.

“a little,” you admit. “are you?”

“definitely,” he says, voice soft. “but also, really into you.”

his thigh shifts slightly against yours under the blanket, and now your knees are touching too. it’s nothing dramatic, just warm and close. his hand touches yours once, then again, and this time he leaves it there. you glance at the tv.

“this scene’s kind of intense, no?” isack mumbles.

you smile. “i like how cosy it is.”

he nods, eyes flicking sideways to yours. “like us?”

your heart stumbles.

“i didn’t mean like us us,” he adds quickly. “just… y’know. this is nice.”

you turn toward him slightly, letting your legs rest over his lap. “it is nice,” you say, voice quieter. “i like being with you like this.”

he’s quiet. watching you. you lean in.

“you can kiss me, if you want.”

his eyes flicker wider. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

he kisses you like he’s testing the waters. soft and slow. barely a brush of lips. then again. and again. until it deepens naturally, until your fingers are in in curls and his hand is on your thigh again.

you breathe him in. he tastes faintly like the boba tea you’d been sharing earlier.

“okay?” he murmurs.

you nod. “you?”

“yeah.” then quieter, “can i kiss you more?”

“yes, please.”

he kisses you harder this time. still slow, still a little shy, but more open. his thumb traces your knee through the blanket, then underneath it, warm against your bare skin. you shift slightly, parting your legs just enough to signal him your growing need.

his breathing stutters when he ralises. when you kiss him again, he groans softly into it. a low muffled sound, only for you.

“i’ve thought about this,” he says, lips lightly pressing your jaw. “so many times.”

“you have?” you ask.

he nods. “not expecting anything, i swear. just… being this close to you.”

“you’re really close now.”

“i noticed,” he says, giggling. but his voice catches at the end, like he’s overwhelmed.

you hesitate for a second. “isack?”

he looks at you, really looks. open. warm. waiting.

you reach up and touch the side of his face, thumb brushing just under his eye. “i want more. if you do.”

his eyes soften immediately. “i definitely do, fuck. but…” he shifts slightly, sitting up straighter, his hand slipping from your thigh to your hand. “i’ve never done this before. i don't want to fuck it up.”

you blink. “me neither.”

something in him relaxes. his face softens.

“oh,” he breathes. “okay.”

he squeezes your hand, then rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “that makes me feel a little less like i’m about to pass out.”

you smile. “you nervous?”

“yeah,” he says with a boyish grin. “but not in a bad way. you?”

“yeah. but i want you.”

he groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder. “please don’t say that unless you want me to lose my mind.”

“i do want you to lose your mind for me, though.” you say, giggling into his hair.

you tug your top off, and isack is falling even harder for you. you're braless, and your skin is softly glowing in the low light of the anime in the background. your chest rises and falls too fast. you’re nervous too, and that just makes it even hotter for isack.

his mouth goes dry. he’s never seen someone like this in real life. never touched someone like this. you.

“you okay?” you ask, tilting your head.

he clears his throat, voice half gone. “yeah. just… trying not to pass out.”

his fingers graze your waist and you shiver. that tiny reaction goes straight to his head, and his cock. you’re warm, soft, alive under his hands. not just a fantasy. not just a what if.

when you part your thighs further for him, his brain just… blanks.

“can i?”

you nod, pulling him closer.

his fingers slide down between your legs, tentative at first, and he almost chokes.

you’re wet. for him.

it’s so warm and slippery and overwhelming. your panties are already translucent from the wetness between your thighs. he touches you gently. he doesn’t even know what he’s doing yet, but you’re gasping like it’s already too much.

“holy fuck,” he breathes. “you feel…fuck.”

the way he looks at you makes your thighs press together without thinking as he lazily plays with your sweet pussy over your damp panties. your body is aching for him.

every glance, every soft groan, every stuttered breath as he touches you, it builds under your skin like static. by the time his fingers find your core under your panties, you’re completely soaked. slick, warm and pulsing with need.

and he notices, of course he does.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, voice cracked and full of awe.

you can’t even speak. you just nod, breath catching, hips rolling into his hand like you’re starving.

“it’s you,” you whimper, all helpless. “i’m like this because it’s you.”

he was already hard when he pulled his boxers down, and you try not to stare. but you do. he finally strips fully, your eyes drop without meaning to.

his cock rests against his stomach, flushed pink at the tip, slightly curved, with a faint line of dark hair trailing up from below. he’s thick and your stomach flutters at the idea of him inside you. his cock is pretty, somehow. the kind you want to memorise with your mouth and hands.

his cock is free. hard, flushed, thick and slightly twitching under your gaze.

you let out the softest breath. you didn’t mean to.

“don’t look at me like that,” he says, voice shaking. “you’re gonna make me finish just from you staring.”

you blink up at him, warm all over. “it’s just…bigger than i thought it’d be.”

he groans and buries his face in his hands, he’s almost flustered at your comment.

he fidgets under your gaze, nervous. “all okay?”

you shake your head, eyes wide. “yea. you’re perfect.”

you glance down again and can’t help but feel your breath catch.

his cock is the kind of real you’ve never seen up close before. the little twitch it gives when your fingers brush his hip makes you feel dizzy.

“can i touch you more?” you ask.

“fuck,” he whispers, “please.”

his hips twitch against nothing. it’s like his cock has a mind of its own. so hard it aches, heavy against his stomach, the tip already so pretty with precum. every time you lazily stroke him or shift your thighs to get closer, it gets worse. he tries to play it cool. tries to keep his breathing even, his voice steady. but he’s failing.

you’re so flushed, needy and wanting him. you touch him more confidently, palm barely wrapping around the base, and his whole body jerks as your small hand slides up and down his heavy cock. little whimpers leaving isack’s mouth.

“shit,” he gasps. “i-fuck, i’ve never been this hard before. ever.”

you grab the condom from your drawer, the one you stashed there a week ago half as a joke, and hand it to him. he fumbles it open, breath shaky, hands trembling.

his cock feels way too sensitive, and he hasn’t even felt the warmth of your sweet little pussy yet. he’s already leaking. dizzy from your fingers, and your soft noises.

“you sure?” he whispers.

“i want you, isack,” you say softly. “want you so fucking bad, isa.”

his eyes grow darker with soft lust and his veiny hands grip your hips a bit tighter. almost as if to ground himself.

but the second he slides in, he’s gone.

he lines up slowly, guided by your hand. his breath hitches at the contact and he pushes in slow. too slow. yet, you start feeling it. your mouth falls open. its pressure, its stretch, and it’s burn. and it’s so good.

you’re so warm. so wet. so tight, it feels like you’re pulling him in by instinct.

“fuck,” he swears, forehead dropping to yours, chest heaving. “you feel… putain, i might actually cum already.”

he’s thick enough that your whole body feels it. like you were made for this. for him. he’s staring down at you with his jaw tight and brows pulled. he’s trying not to move too fast. trying to make it good for both of you. trying not to cum already.

and you love that. you love that your body, this moment, is driving so close to the edge. you wrap your legs around his waist, instinctive and greedy. you want more, you want him to lose his mind in your pussy.

he’s trying so hard to go slow. to impress you. to make it last. but you keep whispering “just a little more” and clenching around him like a needy good girl for him. he’s not going to survive this.

“go deeper,” you whisper. “please.”

his breath catches, and bites his lip. softly nodding, he obeys instantly.

you both moan at the same time at the new pace. so deep, so good and full of isack.

it’s messy, not perfect. and better than anything you ever imagined when you touched yourself thinking about naughty thoughts all alone.

this isn’t a performance. this is you and isack, sweaty and shaking and both in awe of each other, but still knowing exactly what you want.

he’s seen porn. a lot of it. had fantasies just like any horny virgin. he had gotten himself off to perverted videos he’d be too embarrassed to admit.

but nothing prepared him for this. you.

you’re real and gorgeous and writhing under him, whispering “just a little more” with that breathless voice like you’re half drunk on his cock already.

and fuck, he’s trying, really trying, to go slow and be good and not just lose it inside you immediately. but you feel too perfect, too tight and good. and the little noises you’re making just for him, holy shit.

you whisper, “you fill me up so so good, isa.”

he might not last. fuck no, he cannot last when you’re being such a sweet slut for him.

“tell me what you like, please” he pants. “i’ll do anything. i just want to make you cum on me, cum for me.”

your moans become louder and more needy, you love this side of isack. he’s fucking you and stretching you so well, but still taking care of you so sweetly.

your legs tighten. your voice is barely a gasp of his name.

and then you cum. right around him.

his eyes fly open.

he’s never seen anything like the sight in front of him. never felt anything like your pussy clenching around his cock as a thick ring of white cream forms around his base.

you’re ruined. flushed. glowing. and still so fucking gorgeous for isack.

“fuck, holy shit,” he whispers, barely holding on. “you’re perfect, you know that?”

then he’s right there, right on the edge, and he gasps into your neck as he cums too, hips twitching, body curling around yours.

you cling to him. he holds you like he doesn’t want to let go.

☆ ☆ ☆

later, under the blanket, still tangled and flushed and breathless, you whisper, “i’ve literally imagined this a hundred times.”

“same,” he breathes. “way too many times.”

“except in my head it was never this good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you bite your lip. “in my head you were kind of rough.”

he freezes. “…you want me to be rough?”

“maybe just a little.”

he groans. “okay. fuck. yeah. i can do that.”

you laugh into his shoulder, warm and full and utterly gone for him.

then later, wrapped in the blanket, he whispers, “next episode?”

☆ lia's birthday calendar

day 11: angry x isack (ih6)

⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

☆ warnings: dom!isack, unprotected p in v, jealousy, possessive, isack gets insecure abt a joke, degradation, condescending praise ⋆ inspo: (x)(x)(x)

⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

"well, i got quite a thing for taller men. so that's a shame."

the joke leaves your mouth before you even question any consequences.

a dumb joke about taller men. said with a grin and some careless teasing in the middle of the end of season party. a couple of people laugh. a tall engineer does too, leaning into it and returning the banter. you play along, convinced it's all harmless.

you don’t look at isack right away.

his arm stays around you. his hand warm at the small of your back. but it doesn’t move. his smile doesn’t drop either. it tightens. his jaw is flexing like he’s biting something back. no one noticed, but you did. because suddenly his presence isn't comforting anymore, it's possessive.

the others continue rambling about whatever, glasses of alcohol being refilled. you glance at him. his eyes flick to the tall engineer for half a second. sharp, almost assessing. isack looks away again. he takes a sip of his drink all casual, as if nothing happened. some of the girls ask you if you wanna go dance with them. you smile, politely rejecting them.

you lean closer to isack. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah.” he says immediately. too quickly. “go have fun.”

it’s not permission. it’s dismissal.

you stay anyway, because you know him. his posture is tight. his hand presses more firmly into your back. not possessive enough to be obvious, but just enough to remind himself you’re that you're still there. you're choosing to be there.

every time someone taller walks past, his eyes follow. it's brief, involuntary. he doesn’t say a word about it. not once, and that’s what makes it worse. he keeps it together through the rest of the night. polite and restrained. easy and relaxed, as the others know him.

until you return back to your hotel room.

it's quiet. isack sets his keys down and loosens his shirt collar. he takes a breath that sounds heavy and harsh. he faces you.

“you think that was funny?”

his voice isn’t raised. it’s low, controlled. angry in a way that’s been compressed all evening.

you blink. “what?”

“don’t.” he says softly. “don’t play dumb.”

you try to laugh it off, nerves fluttering. “it was just a joke-”

he closes the distance in two steps.

not aggressive or harsh, but certain. he presses your back against the wall with his body. his hands firm on your hips. he's not hurting you but not letting you move, either. his forehead leans close to yours. his eyes almost searching.

“tell me. tell me why you thought that little comment was a good idea.” he murmurs.

your breath catches. you hadn’t expected this. you just didn't think things through, that's all. you didn't expect this reaction from him, not like this. you just wanted to tease him a bit, that's all.

“isa...”

“use your words.”

you swallow. “i didn’t think-”

“exactly.” his jaw clenches. “you didn’t think. you just said it.”

his grip tightens on you.

you laugh again. nervous and soft, and the sound makes something flicker in his eyes. anger and hurt.

“you like taller men?” he asks quietly. “is that it?”

“what- no.” you say quickly. “no, that’s not-”

“because you know what it sounded like?” voice steady but strained. “it sounded like you reminding me i’m good not enough for you. in front of everyone.”

shit. you remain still.

he exhales. he steps a bit, giving you space but no relief.

“i held it together all night. didn’t embarrass you. didn’t say a word.” he says.

you reach for him instinctively, your hand brushing his arm. he pulls away.

“don’t.”

that word hits hard. not loud, not violent. but harsh.

“maybe you should go find one of them. since you like that so much.” bitterness slipping in isack's voice.

you stare at him. stunned. “isa, that’s not fair.”

“no? then explain it to me.”

silence. this isn’t about the joke anymore.

“…i wanted your attention.” you admit quietly.

his eyes lock onto yours. “say it again.”

“i wanted your attention.” you repeat, voice smaller. “you were so busy all season. so distant. the season’s finally over and you just... you disappear into your head sometimes.”

he lets out a slow breath. “so you act out like a child for a bit of attention.”

he sits down on the edge of the bed. he pats his thigh once. not an invitation, it's almost a command. you hesitate.

“are you going to be honest with me?”

you step forward, straddling his lap carefully. he doesn’t touch you yet. his hands stay planted on the mattress. you can tell it's a conscious effort.

“i wanted to make you jealous. just a little.” you whisper.

his laugh is short. humorless. “you succeeded.”

his hands finally come up and grip your hips. he's holding you in place.

“you don’t get to act out like that and then expect me to be gentle. you understand?”

you nod. “yes.”

“say it.”

“yes. i understand.”

his thumbs press into your hips. possessive, claiming.

“good girl.”

he doesn’t kiss you yet. he makes you wait.

“you’re greedy for attention. and i fucking give you everything.” he murmurs.

you tremble a bit.

“and still, you want more.” he continues.

you lean in. “only more of you.”

he searches your face. he's met with honesty. he believes you.

isack kisses you. it's rough and hungry. all the restraint from the night poured into one kiss. he pushes you onto the bed and follows immediately. his body all heavy over yours.

“you think you get to just forget about it?” he murmurs. “after making me feel like that?”

you shake your head, warm and tense.

“you’re going to make it right.”

your hands come up to him instinctively. your fingers clutch at his shirt. he catches your wrists and pins them above your head.

“no, this isn’t about what you want.” he says softly.

you swallow. you nod.

“say it.”

“it’s about you, about making it up to you.”

that earns you a low sound from his chest. satisfied, approving. he kisses you again and it's not sweet. it’s claiming. he's biting your lip just enough to make you gasp. your wrist tug at how he is pinning them down. it annoys him.

“you don’t get to rush this. you don’t get comfort. you made a mess. now you deal with it like a big girl.”

fuck. heat crawls up your neck. shame is mixing with want and it makes your stomach flip. you stop tugging your wrists.

“good girl.”

he keeps you there, pinned beneath him while he talks. that’s the punishment. intense tension between your legs, your core so fucking needy and he still doesn't let you rush. he doesn't let you escape.

“you think any of them take care of you the way i do?” he questions. “you think they know how to handle you when you start acting like this?”

you shake your head quickly. “no.”

he agrees. his forehead drops to yours. he whispers.

“because you don’t want just anyone. you want to be handled. to be corrected.”

your hips move to seek some friction without isack's permission. he notices immediately. his hand clamps down on your hip. he's holding you still.

“ah, see? even now. still so fucking greedy.” he murmurs.

you whine softly. mortified and aching.

“don't pretend. i know you love being reminded who you belong to.”

“i do.” you admit, voice breaking.

“use your words, what do you want?” he reminds you.

“i want you. only you.” you whisper.

his hand slides up to your throat. not squeezing. just holding.

“that’s better.” he praises. “remember that next time you think about running your mouth.”

his hands move lower.

it’s intentional and purposeful as he undresses you. his soft touches are reminding you how well he knows your body. how easily he can pull these little whines out of you. he starts undressing himself. every time you whine or arch for more contact, he stops. he pulls back and waits until you’re breathing hard. he's purposefully letting your frustration build high.

“patience, ma cherie.” he murmurs. “you’ve had enough attention for one night.”

he finally positions himself between your thighs.

you’re trembling. not from fear, from anticipation. he grips your hips and his fingers dig into your skin. he's holding you still as he presses his cock into your cunt. he fucks you slowly. the stretch is heavy, not rushed. it’s not gentle, either. slow and hard. it’s measured. isack is fucking you with pure control. you cry out, surprised by the intensity of his thick cock after waiting for it for so long. he hushes you gently.

“quiet, just feel it.” he breathes.

he sets a pace that’s relentless but still controlled. every drag of his cock is fucking his anger into you. his jealousy, his frustrations. all poured into the way he's railing you with his fucking cock.

“this is what you fucking get for making me doubt.”

your nails dig into his back. legs tighten around his waist without thinking. he cups your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“tell me. tell me who you want.”

“you. fuck- only you, isa.” you gasp.

he thrusts deeper at that. his cock is hitting your sweet spot, soft whiny moans escaping your throat. satisfaction spreads across his face.

“louder.”

“only you. fuck isa- i only want you. i’m yours.” your voice breaking.

he starts to lose his restraint.

the rhythm of his cocking fucking into you turns rougher. needier. his breathing becomes more broken. isack's anger is burning down into something feral and possessive. he presses you into the mattress like he owning you. claiming you with his cock.

his mouth trails on your neck. never gentle, yet still slow. he's harshly sucking on your tender skin, reminding you who knows you best. who fucks you the best. his voice stays close to your ears, murmuring things in french. the words are not even meant for you. they're for him.

how well he handles you. how desperate you get. how you still come apart for him. how good you are at letting him fuck his anger into you.

his own thoughts push him to the edge.

your cunt feels so warm. so inviting. almost apologetic and kind. he's making you feel it all, his anger and his cock. his anger is turning into this new kind of possessiveness. his jealousy is turning into need. you cling to him, overwhelmed. it all feels so fucking good. his cock is twitching inside you.

“look at you, just a needy slut that had to get fucked properly. always so fucking needy attention.”

you nod and beg.

and that's what does it. something about you agreeing with him makes his twitching cock feel way too good. admitting to him that you were just being a needy attention slut. he can't hold back anymore. he lets go. his breathing becomes broken. his body tightens all rigid. it's all so intense, so consuming. he stuffs you full of his cum.

he stays there for a moment.

he stays long enough for the anger to burn itself out completely. you feel the shift, from punishment to connection. the anger is replaced with comfort. his weight still feels heavy on you. it's almost protective. his hand slides up your side. his thumb is brushing gentle circles where he held you down. it's to ground you now, not restrain.

“don’t play those games with me again.” he says quietly.

you nod, exhausted. “i won’t.”

“just talk to me next time, okay?” not angry, just honest.

you nod, pulling him closer. “i will, isa.”

──── ☆☆☆

☆ can’t sit still: isack hadjar (ih6)

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☆ lia yaps: isack x gf!reader. isack had a bad weekend in austin. he’s on the sofa, chilling w his girl who ends up getting turned on just by sitting on his lap. he notices, and helps her cum. 18+ mdni

☆ warnings: dry humping, praise, slight degradation, slight dumbification

⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

the austin weekend has been a nightmare for isack.

it's all been too much, and he just wants some quiet time with his girl. you’re sat on his lap, leaning into his chest watching anime on the sofa. he’s sprawled in his hoodie and sweatpants, eyes glued to the screen.

his arm is loose around your waist, thumb tracing soft absent circles over your hip, just comfortably holding you. it’s innocent, warm, and safe. his arm drifts lazily around your waist, thumb tracing little circles that linger a second too long. your hips shift slightly to get comfortable.

suddenly, there’s friction. it’s subtle, tolerable. you slightly shift again to adjust, and your ass brushes against him. you freeze for a second, feeling something heavy under you. he’s hard.

his fingers tighten slightly on your hip, eyes flicking down for the tiniest fraction of a second before returning to the screen and pretending nothing happened. your body heats up.

it wasn’t nothing, you know that. and you want more of it, too.

he notices. of course he notices. a low hum escapes isack, amused and rough.

“so… you feel that?” he murmurs, referring to his own thick bulge underneath you. your cheeks redden, and you intentionally start to rock your hips against him, pressing more firmly this time. his breath hitches, leaning back against the sofa with one hand sliding up to rest over your thigh and the other already hovering over your cunt.

“you’re so needy,” he mutters, cocky and needy all at once. “can’t even watch a show in peace…”

you bite your lip, grinding just a little faster now, realising how good it feels to have his thick bulge rub against your sensitive little clit.

the anime is long forgotten and his chest presses against your back, cock twitching against your core, and fingers tightening just enough to make your stomach clench. he leans back, nudging you closer with a lazy tilt of his hips almost indulging you and your lust.

“you’re fucking unbelievable,” he mumbles, watching you literally dry hump him. “can’t keep still for two seconds, huh?”

you whine softly, half laughing, kinda shy yet determined. he chuckles low and deep, pressing a little firmer onto your sides, guiding subtly. the blanket slips a little. his thumb brushes higher, your hips moving in delicious circles as the messy heat between your legs keeps on building.

and isack is being such a tease. he’s cooing and almost picking on you. he mutters, low and rough, “look at you… can’t even sit still.”

you gasp, some embarrassment spilling through as you laugh nervously. he notices and presses his light kisses all over the back of your neck as reassurance. you’re his needy girl, but that’s okay. he loves that about you.

“don’t fight it,” he murmurs, voice strained “you’re doing so well, taking what you want.”

you can’t stop. your hips keep rolling, you don’t want to stop. clit throbbing and so sensitive, and you’re not even undressed. he presses your cunt even closer to his cock, soft moans escaping both of you.

your hands scramble trying to hold onto him for stability, fingers tangling in his hoodie strings. he leans in, all calm and grounded as he presses more kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“fuck,” he groans softly, hips pressing up more into you as he watches you quietly chase your own pleasure. “you like that… huh? can’t even sit on my lap without humping me like a needy little princess. you’re actually close like this, aren’t you?”

you try to protest, your breath shaky and cheeks flaming. “i… i’m fine,” you mumble, voice breaking from the sheer friction between your thighs.

he laughs low, amused, shaking head.

“…sure you are,” hips nudging yours in tiny circles, stomach twisting.

you gasp softly at his condescending words, acknowledging all this tension between you from just sitting on his lap. you shift against him and clutch onto his thighs for better balance. his cock feels so hard and heat spreads through your body, as your clit repeatedly brushes against his bulge. any shyness completely melted away by now.

his lips brush against your temple, whispering, placing gentle kisses.

“don’t stop… show me how you can take care of me,” and the words send a shiver straight through your spine. you bite your lip harder, soft whimpers escaping you. every subtle move of his hips and every press of his cock against your cunt makes your body shiver and your nails dig into his thighs.

it escalates naturally, slow and messy. your hips meet his hips in tiny, desperate circles. both of you are aware of the friction, aware of each other’s need. fuck, you both needed this.

he hums, cocky as always despite how needy he also is. he’s leaking in his pants just by having you grind on him.

“you’re so fucking good to me, riding me like this. fuck, it feels so good, mon cherie.”

you whine softly, gripping him tighter, heart pounding, and he presses just a little harder, probably forming small bruises on your hip bones by now. he’s teasing, guiding, and setting the pace with his own grip of your hips as you keep grinding over his sensitive cock.

he hums deep in response, pressing his chest against your back. your body shudders suddenly, breath catching, anr heat rolling through you as your hips jerk slightly against him. your nails dig into his skin, and you can’t help the soft whine that slips out. you’re actually so fucking close.

and he can tell, your moans sounding so familiar to him by now.

he grins, voice rough and low, “fuck… there it is. that’s it, my needy girl…” his hands tighten slightly on your hips, guiding you as your body tremble against him.

your movements stutter for a moment, fingers completely digging into his thighs as a deep rush of pleasure runs through your spine. fuck, you actually came just by grinding on isack’s lap.

the frantic, teasing motions begin to slow as the wave of heat finally washes through you. your head rests on his shoulder, heart still hammering. he tilts your chin, guiding you for eye contact.

“…god, i needed… this. so fucking much.”

you lift your head just slightly, meeting his gaze with flushed cheeks and a shaky, satisfied smile. “me too. but…you didn’t cum, isa. you deserve to feel good, too.”

he laughs softly, you're so sweet to him.

how can he even tell you that having you be a needy girl just for him is probably the best kind of stress relief?

after brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, he presses a quick, messy kiss to your temple and responds to your subtle plea.

“we’re not done yet, baby.”

☆ ☆ ☆

☆ earned it: isack hadjar (ih6)

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☆ lia yaps: ex!reader and isack both separated ways because of distance. isack still yearned to rekindle what they had, and secretly so did she. his first podium sparked a reconnection. can be read as a standalone. 18+ mdni

☆ warnings: protected p in v, teasing, playful mocking, subtle possessiveness, switchy vibes from both, exes to lovers? ⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅

you hadn’t planned to see him tonight. the hotel lobby was alive, buzzing with music, people talking, and the faint scent of champagne and perfume. he was there too, obviously. messy hair, hoodie half zipped, and cheeks flushed from his first ever f1 podium. what a cutie.

some hours ago you sent a simple text, kind and friendly.

you: congrats on the podium! super proud :)

isa: thanks! so you still think about me, huh? i might’ve earned it just for that :)) x

isa: hey, wanna drop by tonight?

and now seeing him in person, the air around you feels heavier.

“you came,” he murmurs, voice shy yet confident.

“thanks for the invite, it’s sweet of you.” you reply, trying to sound casual, but your pulse already betrays you.

he smirks, leaning closer, and the playful tension spikes.

“thought you wouldn’t show up, healthy distance and all that,” echoing your own words back to you.

“maybe i wanted to see how you’d react,” you tease, brushing his arm lightly.

“always so cruel to me.” his hand brushes your waist, “…i’ve missed it.”

you had both decided to separate ways because of distance. there were no fights, no tears, no anger. just distance. it was all too much, yet not enough. isack didn’t really want to part ways, but you had already made up your mind. you’d rather end things on good terms then let resentment build against the very person you love.

however, it’s not so easy now that’s he’s right here again. the push-pull begins immediately. teasing smiles, little jabs about missed races and how you showed up tonight even though you had rejected all his previous attempts at reconnecting. the gentle but firm grip of his hand along your waist remains there. familiar, consistent.

the energy is dangerous, playful, and unbearably needy all over again.

“we should talk, no?” his voice drops low, heavy with unspoken meaning.

your pride flickers. “sure. talk…,” you murmur, letting your body betray you slightly as you graze his thigh with your hand. he grasps your hand into his own, leading you to a quiet safe space for the both of you.

his grin is boyish and cheeky. “…can’t keep my mind off you. and right now, i can’t my hands to myself, you know.”

by the time you reach the hotel room, the door clicks shut, and everything else fades. music and laughter from the party become distant white noise.

he presses you against the wall, lips messy and urgent on yours, teeth grazing, tongue exploring. you taste champagne and him. so much of him, it’s familiar and overwhelming.

“you’re still too cocky for such a fucking nerd,” you murmur against his mouth, but your hands are already sliding under his hoodie feeling up his chest.

he groans, tugging your dress down, and the sight of you in front of him once again makes him filthily desperate. his cock strains, leaking precum through his jeans, so heavy and throbbing. he’s trying hard to keep up his cocky facade, but his body is betraying him. he missed you so fucking much.

your pulse races. he’s so hard, just for you. it’s been months of distance, and your core aches to touch him. it aches for him to touch you. no one gets your body so heated like he does. your hand finds his cock through his jeans to stroke him lightly, teasing, making him gasp.

“so easy for me, so sensitive like it’s been months without any relief. thought you’d been with someone else by now hm?” you tease, subtly trying to see whether he has fucked anyone else in the meantime.

he tenses, jaw clenched, possessive. “no, never. have you?”

“hm, thought about it.”

“guess i have to fuck those thoughts out of you then.”

the playful tension intensifies, brushing, teasing, whispers, light bites, teasing smacks on skin, hands exploring. every touch intentional but rushed, every moan and whisper ruining all the safe rules you had set for yourself.

“can’t wait to have you again, mon cherie. you were always so so wet for me. god, just like old times.”

you resist just enough out of pride. hips tilting, teasing him, and he whines, frustration and need mingling.

“come on baby, don’t you miss how good we used to feel together?”

“not giving in so easily,” you whisper, pride and lust fucking with your head.

“fuck, can i touch?” he checks in with you, fingers sliding between your thighs. you nod, pathetically excited but too turned on to care.

he’s teasing your clit, dragging moans from you. “see baby, it feels good doesn’t it?

your back arches, immediate tingles all over your spine. “so fucking good, isack…”

he bites your neck, thrusting two fingers inside you first, testing, dragging gasps and whimpers from you. “so tight, gotta get you all ready for my cock again. fuck, i missed this. missed you.”

your hands clutch his hair, tugging lightly, “don’t stop, please.”

but he does. with a sly smirk as he holds eye contact with you. he’s being a tease, on purpose, trying to get back at you from all those months of chasing you. but he’s just as needy than you are, if not more.

finally, he puts a condom on, thick and slick, as he strokes himself a couple of times. he gestures for you to come closer, and you do. so obedient and ready to be stretched out by him once again.

you lay on the hotel bed and he lines up against you, cock throbbing and leaking.

“…ready?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours.

you nod, legs parting, body trembling. “always, isa.”

he bites his lip at your little comment and pushes in slowly. it’s gentle, deliberate. a gasp escapes both of you at the physical reconnection, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he subtly nibbles at your skin. your hands grip his arms, feeling his soft mouth all over you as his cock stretches you properly and rekindles what you once had.

your nails dig into him harder, softly whimpering almost whining. you’re sounding so pathetic. it’s been a while since you got properly fucked, you haven’t been with anyone since isack.

he thrusts slowly, savouring and noticing your slight struggle as he whispers cocky praise. “so perfect, always so good for me. is it bigger than you remember?”

your hips roll against his, trying to get more friction since he’s fucking you so slow. your moans spilling as his teasing drives you closer.

the teasing continues even as he finally picks up pace, hips snapping, skin slapping and hands tugging at your hair. he’s softly biting, brushing his lips over your sensitive spots that he remembers so well.

“my girl letting her guard down for me again, you feel so so good, baby.”

“you better make this fucking worth it, isack.”

“fuck, you’re killing me. so bratty for someone with such a sweet welcoming pussy. always been so good to me.”

he’s babbling and rambling, completely lost in arousal. his thrusts are deep and messy, causing obscene filthy sounds. your body responds, clenching around him so heavenly. you push onto his chest with your palm, a little nonverbal signal that isack remembers very well.

he listens to your little signal and switches positions, you’re finally riding him. he’s needy, desperate, and face all flushed. he’s muttering in french and holding your hips, as you continue working his cock for both your pleasure. he’s praising you relentlessly, watching your pretty tits bounce as you ride him so well.

he matches your pace and thrusts up into you. he fucks you hard yet sloppy, pulled between control and desperation. you gasp at the increased pressure, his pubic hair softly teasing your clit. you’re clinging at his thick arms as his cock ruins your insides. you want to ruin him back.

“you like this, huh? being so desperate for me to ride you again, being all mine?”

“fuck yes, i miss how you take my cock,” he thrusts into you erratically, dragging you closer to climax. his hands reach onto you to rub tight messy circles around your clit, your nails leaving marks on his chest as you finally start feeling the familiar feeling of coming undone for him.

he spills inside you first with a soft whine. it’s hot and messy, and his cock is still deep whilst his hands are bruising your hips by now. he’s so pretty like this. he’s trying to catch his breath while still playing with your clit and your orgasm quickly follows. a spark washes through your body, thighs clutching him, and voice wavering. “oh god, fuck. isack, it’s so good.”

he sits up and rests his forehead against yours, as his cock twitches inside you at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock one last time. you collapse onto his chest and he kisses you softly, as if to make up for the bruises forming on your hips and all the lost time.

☆ ☆ ☆

afterwards, you’re both still all tangled and sweating.

he smirks. “so, about the whole exes thing?”

you laugh softly, brushing curls from his face. “hm, what about it?”

his lips find yours for a messy kiss. it’s soft, not fuelled by lust but by pure want and appreciation.

“…well, second chances can be better than the first.”

“seems like it,” you murmur, drifting to sleep in his arms again as his fingers trace little shapes on your back.

osc: his proud little grin