#hamzah

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

“Before you could respond to Mandy, a knock sounded at the door. She swung it open without hesitation, revealing Hamzah leaning lazily against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "You guys settled in?" he asked, glancing between you and Mandy. "Yep! And we're already planning to hit the pool later," Mandy said, grinning. Hamzah’s gaze flickered to you. “You swimming?” You shrugged. “Maybe. What about you? Are you guys joining us?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll let Martin know.” Then, shifting back into his usual laid-back demeanor, he leaned against the doorframe. “Anyway, Martin wants to start filming soon. Meet us in the lounge in twenty?” Mandy gave him a thumbs-up. "Got it." As soon as he walked off, Mandy turned to you with a knowing look. "You so like him." You scoffed. "Do not." She just grinned. "Sure, sure. And I’m the Queen of England."

After filming wrapped up, the four of you finally made your way down to the pool. The area was stunning—soft lighting, crystal-clear water, and a view of the city skyline beyond the glass walls. You emerged from the changing room in your—kinda tiny bikini—adjusting the straps as you followed Mandy toward the poolside. The water reflected the golden lights, casting rippling patterns across the tiled floor. You glanced up just in time to catch Hamzah’s reaction.

He had been mid-conversation with Martin, but the second his eyes landed on you, his words stalled. His jaw tensed, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck like he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. Mandy, of course, noticed immediately. She leaned toward you, whispering, “Oh, he so wasn’t ready for that.” You felt your face heat up but ignored her, pretending not to notice the way Hamzah’s gaze kept flickering back to you when he thought you weren’t looking. Martin and Hamzah jumped into the pool, splashing water everywhere. After a minute, you slowly dip into the pool with Mandy, the water was warm as you surfaced, running your hands over your face to wipe away the droplets clinging to your eyes. You pushed your wet hair back, blinking a few times to adjust to the pool lights.

Hamzah was talking to Martin about something, but the second you surfaced, his words completely died in his throat. His gaze flickered to you, just for a second, but it was enough to make his pulse stutter. His eyes traced the way your wet hair clung to your neck and collarbone, the way droplets of water slid down your skin, disappearing beneath the fabric of your bikini. And that damn bikini, so tight on you, wasn’t doing him any favours. It hugged your curves perfectly, molding to your body.

He leaned back against the pool’s edge, stretching an arm over the ledge like he couldn’t care less. But his fingers curled slightly, a small betrayal of the heat creeping under his skin. Mandy, ofcourse, smirked. “Hamzah, you good? You look kinda—flustered.” He exhaled through his nose, side-eyeing my Mandy. “It’s a heated pool, Mandy.” "Right," she hummed, clearly not buying it. You arched a brow at him, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You sure?" Hamzah met your gaze evenly this time, masking any trace of his wandering thoughts. He smirked, easy and practiced. "Why? You worried about me?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes before pushing off the ledge, swimming to the other side with Mandy.

Hamzah finally let out a slow breath, tilting his head back against the pool’s edge. His body still felt warm—too warm—but his expression stayed cool, unreadable. Martin said something, but Hamzah barely registered it, nodding absentmindedly as he dragged a hand through his wet hair. You swam over to Mandy, laughing about something, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. And maybe that was the worst part—how effortless it was for you. How you weren’t even trying, and yet, here he was, gripping the edge of the pool a little too hard just to keep his thoughts in check.

After a while, Mandy stretched her arms over her head, sighing. “Alright, I’m getting out. My fingers are all wrinkly.”You laughed, glancing down at your own pruned fingertips. “Yeah, same.” Pushing off the pool’s edge, you made your way to the steps, water cascading down your body as you stepped out. The cool air hit your skin, making you shiver slightly as you reached for a towel. His gaze followed the slow trail of water sliding down your back, the way your bikini clung to you, emphasizing everything. He swallowed, shifting his jaw like it would somehow fix the heat creeping into his chest. Martin said something beside him, but Hamzah barely heard it. “You guys coming?” Hamzah cleared his throat, forcing his expression into something neutral. “Yeah, in a bit.” You hummed in acknowledgment, following Mandy toward the lounge chairs to grab your things.

As soon as you walked off, Martin shot Hamzah a knowing look. “You’re staring, bro.” Hamzah scoffed, leaning back against the pool’s edge. “No, I’m not.” Martin smirked. “Sure.” Hamzah rolled his eyes, pushing himself up out of the water in one smooth motion. He reached for his towel, rubbing it through his wet hair before draping it around his shoulders. “We heading up?” Martin grinned. “Yeah. Before you embarrass yourself any further.”

Back in your room, the soft hum of the AC filled the air as you stood in front of the mirror, towel-drying your hair while Mandy rifled through her suitcase. “So,” she said casually, holding up two of her dresses. “Are we going cute or fancy tonight?” You glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t know, i’m not trying to impress anyone.” She wiggled her brows at you through the mirror. “It’s a fancy ass restaurant Y/N!! Plus, I wasn’t the one getting eye-fucked in the pool.” Your mouth dropped open. “Mandy!” She only laughed, pointing at the silky dress on your bed. “Wear this. You’ll shut Hamzah up real fast.” You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, your cheeks already warm.

Hamzah sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it might help him get his head right. He wasn’t sure why his chest felt tight—wasn’t like this was a date. Just dinner. Just the four of them. Still, he couldn’t shake the heat sitting low in his stomach, the way his thoughts kept circling back to the pool. To you. The knock came sharp and quick. He stood a little too fast, hand already on the door handle before his thoughts could catch up. When he opened it and saw you and Mandy standing there, that tension in his chest pulled tighter. “Hey! We’re ready!” You smiled at him. “Hey…you look good” he said before he could stop himself. “Thanks, you too” your cheeks flushed at his compliment, then suddenly Martin comes at the door. “Right, so let’s go then ladies!”

The elevator ride to the rooftop was quiet. Mandy and Martin chatted about the menu, tossing out guesses on what kind of dishes the place might have. You stood beside Hamzah, close enough that your perfume reached him in waves—sweet, clean, and way too distracting. He didn’t say much, hands tucked into his pockets, jaw relaxed like he was perfectly unbothered. When the doors opened, the rooftop glowed under strings of soft lights, the city skyline glittering around the glass edges of the restaurant. A hostess led you all to a sleek corner table with plush seating and a perfect view. You slid in next to Mandy, leaving the space across from you open—and of course, Hamzah took it. He settled in with one arm draped along the back of Martin’s chair, legs stretched out just enough to brush against yours under the table. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. But he didn’t move either.

The four of you scanned the menus, the quiet clinking of silverware and soft jazz filling the rooftop air. Mandy and Martin had fallen into another back-and-forth about what they were ordering, their conversation light and easy. You chimed in here and there, but your attention kept drifting back to Hamzah, across from you. His eyes weren’t on the menu. They were on you. Only for a second. Then he looked down again, fingers tapping against the glass of water in front of him like he needed to keep them busy.

Under the table, his knee was still pressed lightly against yours. It wasn’t much—barely anything, really—but you could feel the warmth of it. Feel the way neither of you had pulled away. “So,” Mandy said suddenly, eyeing the appetizers, “are we sharing or we just get what we want?” Martin grinned. “I’m starving. I don’t care.” You laughed, glancing at the menu again. “I’m good with sharing.” “I bet you are,” Martin said to you with a smirk. “You always pretend you’re not that hungry and then steal fries.” “That’s a lie,” you said, smiling at him. “It was one fry.” “One, she says” Mandy muttered, nudging you.

While they kept going, you felt it again—that shift. Hamzah’s eyes on you. You looked up to meet them this time. “What?” you asked softly, your voice just above the ambient music.He didn’t smile. Just tilted his head a little. “Nothing.” But there was something in his tone—like whatever he wasn’t saying sat heavy behind his teeth. Your legs shifted under the table, and his knee nudged yours again. This time, it didn’t feel accidental. Your breath caught, but you played it off, busying yourself with the edge of your dress.

The evening had dragged on longer than expected, the dinner filling with casual chatter and jokes, but underneath it all, the energy between you and Hamzah never quite settled. Every stolen glance, every near touch, every time he smirked or looked at you a little too long—it was all too much, too slow, but somehow still not enough. Finally, Martin, who had been quietly sipping his drink all night, let out a loud, drawn-out laugh. “I’m feeling it... I’m definitely feeling it” he slurred, trying to hold himself steady against the back of his chair. Mandy raised an eyebrow. “You good, Martin?” she asked, though it was clear she knew the answer. He swayed slightly before nodding. “Yeah, yeah... I think I need to sleep this one off. Mandy, you’re coming, right?” Mandy rolled her eyes but nodded. “Of course. Come on.”They stood up, and Mandy helped guide a stumbling Martin toward the door. The moment they left, the room fell quieter, and you and Hamzah were left behind. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. There was a pause. The tension between you was intense.

“Well,” you said, shifting in your seat slightly, trying to play it cool. “Guess we should probably head up too.” Hamzah didn’t immediately respond, still leaning back in his chair with a lazy tilt of his head. Then, with an almost lazy smile, he pushed himself to his feet. “Yeah, I guess so. Lead the way.” When you turned to head for the elevator, he followed close behind, but the silence in the hall was thick. The distant sound of your footsteps echoed, and each step made it feel like you were both trying to outrun something you weren’t ready to face. As you reached the elevator, you hit the button. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and the two of you stepped inside. It was cramped, the kind of intimate space where you couldn’t help but be aware of every inch of the other person. The air felt charged, heavy, with neither of you speaking as the doors closed behind you.

You could feel Hamzah standing close beside you, just a few inches away, his presence unmistakable. His gaze flickered toward you briefly, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause. "So," you say, trying to break the silence, your voice coming out a little quieter than you’d meant. "Quite the night, huh?" Hamzah glances over at you, the faintest trace of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, more than I expected. Martin’s... interesting when he’s had a bit to drink." You let out a small laugh. "I know. He’s a handful." There’s another brief silence. You glance at him, then quickly look away, focusing on the numbers above the door as they tick upward. "You're quiet tonight" you say softly. Hamzah shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. "Just thinking," he murmurs. You raise a brow. “About what?” He hesitates, then shrugs, looking back toward the elevator doors. “You.”

You try to laugh it off, but your voice comes out uneven. “What about me?” He glances at you again, slower this time. “How you looked tonight. How you always look.” You look away, heat rising to your cheeks. The air feels thicker now, harder to breathe. The elevator hums beneath your feet. You can feel how close he is—your arms nearly brushing, his warmth impossible to ignore. “You know” you say after a pause, your voice quieter, “you don’t usually say stuff like that.” Hamzah leans slightly toward you. Not touching—but so close it feels like a touch. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think it.” Your breath catches in your throat, heart thudding against your ribs like it wants out. You glance up at him again—slowly this time—and he’s already looking at you, that half-lidded gaze unreadable but intense. “Why now?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. His lips twitch slightly, but it’s not quite a smile. “Because if I don’t say something tonight, I’m gonna regret it.”Your pulse stutters. The elevator hums softly, rising toward your floor at an infuriatingly slow pace. The air between you vibrates with unspoken things, with every almost-touch that’s happened all day. Every stolen glance. Every lingering second.

“You looked… so fucking good at the pool” Hamzah says quietly, voice rougher now, lower. “And then tonight—” He shakes his head once, like the memory itself frustrates him. “It’s been driving me crazy.” You swallow hard., cheeks turning red. “I’ve been trying to play it cool,” he admits, eyes dropping briefly to your mouth before flicking back up. “But you make it hard.” The elevator dings softly as it passes another floor. Almost there. And suddenly, the knowledge that you’re running out of time crashes over you. You shift to face him more fully, your back brushing against the mirrored wall. “Show me then” you whisper. “How crazy i drive you.” Hamzah doesn’t move right away. His jaw flexes once, and then he steps in closer, slow and deliberate, until there’s barely an inch between you. His hand comes up, resting just beside your head on the wall behind you, not quite touching but close enough to make you dizzy. “I want to kiss you,” he says, voice deep, looking up at your eyes. “Can i?”

You’re not sure who moves first, but suddenly your mouths are crashing together, urgent and messy and hot. You gasp into him, and he swallows the sound, his hands finally landing on your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself as your back hits the cool metal of the elevator wall. His mouth moves over yours like he’s starving—deep, slow, then faster when you tug him closer. One of his hands drifts down, sliding under the hem of your dress, feeling your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin like he wants to memorize the shape of you.

You make a soft sound, and he groans into your mouth in response, the kiss turning hotter, heavier, his body pressing into yours like he can’t get close enough. Then all of a sudden-ding! The elevator doors open to your floor. You both break apart just barely, breathing hard, eyes locked. Neither of you moves right away. Hamzah’s chest is still pressed to yours, his hand resting against your thigh under your dress, like he forgot to pull away—or didn’t want to. You can feel his breath against your cheek, heavy and warm, and when he finally speaks, it’s in a voice so low it’s practically a growl. “You gonna walk” he murmurs, “or you want me to carry you?”

Your lips part, breath hitching as you start to respond,but you don’t get the chance. Suddenly, his arm wraps around your waist and the other around your legs, and you gasp as he lifts you like it’s nothing. Your arms instinctively loop around his neck, your dress riding up slightly as he holds you close. “Hamzah” you breathe, the sound caught somewhere between a warning and a plea. He doesn’t answer. He just starts walking, carrying you down the quiet hallway like he knows exactly where you’re going—and it’s the only place he’s been trying to get to all night.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as you cling to him, chest to chest, your lips brushing his jaw as you glance up. His eyes stay fixed ahead, his grip strong. When you reach your room, he pauses just outside the door. Gently, he lowers you to your feet, hands lingering at your waist, his breath still coming fast and shallow against your cheek. Fumbling slightly, you swipe the keycard. The lock clicks. And you barely wait for the door to swing open before your hand curls around his shirt, pulling him in with you.

As soon as the door shuts behind you, his mouth is on yours again—rougher this time, sloppy. Like now that he has you alone, he’s not holding anything back. The door clicks shut behind you, and then it’s like something snaps. He crowds you back against it without breaking the kiss, his hands gripping your waist, then sliding lower—down your hips, your thighs, tugging your dress up as his mouth devours yours. It’s all heat and teeth and tongue. You moan into him, fingers tangling in his shirt, tugging it up over his head. He barely breaks the kiss to yank it off, tossing it somewhere behind him before he’s on you again, mouth moving along your jaw, down your neck. His teeth graze your skin, and he sucks on the soft skin, leaving a mark.

“I’ve been thinking about this for months” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and low and desperate. “Thinking about you. How you sound. How you taste.” His hands find the backs of your thighs, lifting you again, only this time, he walks you straight to the bed. You cling to him, your dress hiked up, legs wrapped around his waist as he lowers you onto the mattress, his body following, pressing you down into the sheets. You look up at him, chest heaving, lips parted. “Then stop thinking,” you whisper, “and do something about it. That’s all it takes.

His hands are everywhere on your body. He quickly takes your dress off, tossing it away, the cold air of the room hardening your bare nipples. His eyes drop, and for a moment, all he does is stare. He can’t believe you’re real, laid out beneath him like this. “Fuck” he breathes, voice strained. Then he slowly lowers himself and his mouth wraps around one of your nipples. You gasp, arching into him as his tongue swirls, soft at first, then rougher, teasing. His hand cups your other breast, thumb brushing over the nipple as his lips close around the other, sucking with slow pressure that has your back lifting off the mattress.

“Hamzah,” you whisper, your voice already wrecked. “Please, want more” Hamzah lifts his head slightly, his mouth glistening from where he’d been sucking on your nipple, eyes dark with heat. “Yeah?” he murmurs, voice rough. “You want more?” His hand trails slowly down your stomach, the pads of his fingers caressing your soft skin until they disappear beneath the thin waistband of your panties. The moment his fingers dip lower, he groans under his breath. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” His touch is light at first—just two fingers sliding between your folds, collecting the slick that’s already gathered there.

You jolt slightly, breath hitching, whining softly, hips twitching up toward his hand. His other arm braces beside your head, keeping him hovered over you as his fingers begin to move, slow and teasing, rubbing lazy circles over your clit. After a minute he pulls back just enough to sit up on his knees, tugging your panties down your legs in one smooth motion. He drops them somewhere behind him without looking, gaze fixed between your thighs now spread open just for him. Hamzah leans in again, settling between your legs, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them wider.

A deep sigh leaves his mouth at the sight of you, then lowers his head, and licks a slow, deliberate stripe up your pussy. You cry out, hips jerking, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth latches onto your clit, tongue swirling, then flattening, then flicking in perfect rhythm while his hands pin you down. He eats you like he’s starving, like he’s waited too long and finally, finally gets to have you. Your hands move to his hair, gripping tight, and he groans into you at the pull, tongue working deeper, faster, until your thighs start to shake around his head. He doesn’t stop. Not when you whimper his name like that. Not even when your hips begin to roll against his mouth, desperate and mindless.

He just holds you open and keeps licking—slow, messy, relentless. You're right on the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, your thighs trembling around his head “Hamzah,” you gasp, voice high and needy. “Fuck—I’m gonna—” And he stops. He pulls back suddenly, his mouth wet, lips slick with you. You make a broken sound, halfway between a moan and a protest, hips still twitching in the air like your body’s chasing the orgasm he just stole from you. He looks up at you, flushed and breathless. “Nah,” he pants, voice hoarse. “Not like that. I wanna feel you when you cum.”

He’s already pushing his sweats down, cock thick, hard and flushed, leaking at the tip as he crawls over you. Your legs part without second thought, welcoming him, and he grabs himself at the base, dragging the head slowly through your soaked folds. You whimper at the contact, hips tilting up, desperate. Hamzah hisses through his teeth. “Fuck—you’re so wet, baby.” Then he pushes in. The stretch steals the air from your lungs. He’s thick, filling you slow but deep, making you feel every inch as your walls clench around him. Your hands reach for his back, nails sinking into his skin.

He groans deep in his throat, forehead dropping to yours. “Shit—you feel so fucking good.” When he bottoms out, he pauses, buried to the hilt, letting you both feel it—how full you are, how tight, how perfect it fits. Then he starts to move. Slow at first, grinding deep, each thrust deliberate, dragging against that sensitive spot that makes your legs tremble. You gasp his name again, and that’s all it takes—he snaps his hips harder, faster, setting a rhythm that’s rough and needy and so goddamn good it knocks the thoughts from your head. Your body arches into him, mouth falling open, his lips brushing yours, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

“Can’t believe it took us—fuck—so long to do this” his voice deep and unstable. Your body tightens beneath him, every nerve lit up like fire, and Hamzah doesn’t let up. His hips snap into you, fast and deep, filling you over and over. He’s panting against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours, like he can’t bear to be any farther than skin-to-skin “That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick and wrecked. “Taking me so fucking well,made for me.” You whimper at his words, thighs trembling around his waist, fingernails digging into his back as the pleasure builds hard in your abdomen. Every thrust knocks the breath out of you, and the way he looks at you—like you’re his, like there’s nothing else in the world but you—pushes you right to the edge. “Hamzah—fuck—I’m close—”

He drives into you even deeper, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot that makes you cry out. “Cum for me,” he groans against your ear. “Be a good girl and cum. Let me feel you.” And you do. Your whole body shakes, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm rips through you, wave after wave crashing so hard it makes you sob his name. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him so tight he swears under his breath. He brings his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply and passionately, leaving both of you breathless. “Fuck—fuck, baby, I’m—please, can i fill you up?” You quickly nod, and cling onto him tighter. “Please, i need you” you whine in his ear. His rhythm stutters, hips jerking once, twice—then he’s spilling inside you, thick and hot, buried as deep as he can get. He curses again, low and breathless, holding you tight as he throbs inside you.

He doesn’t move for a long moment, just stays there, forehead pressed to yours, both of you panting, skin slick with sweat and still trembling from the high. His nose brushes yours, and for a moment, everything is quiet but the sound of your breathing and the dull thrum of your racing heartbeats. Then, slowly, gently, he kisses you again—this time softer, slower, but still desperate. Like he’s trying to say everything he doesn’t have words for. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough but full of concern as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head immediately, pulling him down for another kiss. “No,” you whisper against his lips. “I feel perfect.” He smiles at your words, so full of love that it makes your chest ache. He finally pulls out of you carefully, murmuring a quiet apology at the sensitivity, and disappears for a second to grab a towel from the bathroom. When he returns, he kneels between your legs, his touch gentle as he cleans you up, his eyes flicking to your face every few seconds to make sure you’re okay. Once he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and climbs back into bed beside you, tugging the duvet up around both your bodies.

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in close, tucking your head beneath his chin. His other hand finds yours under the covers, fingers lacing together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs into your hair. “Wanted you. For so long.” You smile sleepily, fingers trailing over his bare chest. “You have me,” you say softly. “You’ve always had me.” He presses a kiss to your temple and holds you tighter. “Not letting you go now,” he whispers. “Not ever.” And with your legs tangled together and his heartbeat steady under your cheek, you fall asleep in his arms, warm, safe and more his than you’ve ever been.

my other works ➵ masterlist

taglist: @noturbabe22 , @giuli4nna , @harrys0nlyange1 , @luigifr0mf1ji , @pictureperfectblue , @rabbitsgnocchi , @2005irlfawn , @cheesecake432 , @oceanbreezeglow , @isathefantastic , @currentscnvulsive (please let me know if i missed your name!! also some usernames i couldn’t find for some reason im sorry)

© guliexe

I sat in bed, contemplating interrupting Hamzah and Martin while filming. They’d been going for hours, and I had grown tired of hearing the two scream on the other side of the thin white walls. I knew Hamzah wouldn’t care if I interrupted, the slushies loved when I made appearances in videos, but part of me knew that my intentions weren’t purely innocent. 

I stood up, walking out of Hamzah and I’s shared bedroom. Just as I walked through the door, I watched as Martin walked out. 

“Bathroom” was all he said. I nodded shortly gliding into their filming room. 

“Hey baby,” I spoke softly. Hamzah looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of me.

“Hi sweetheart.” 

Walking over to where Hamzah sat, I wrapped my arms around him as I looked at the paused game screen. I looked at the numbers on either side of the screen, remembering that they were doing a heartbeat monitor video. 

As I pressed a kiss on the side of Hamzah’s neck, I watched as the numbers on his side of the screen went up after a few seconds. He blushed a bit, interlocking his fingers with mine. His heartbeat traveled from 73 to 96 quickly. 

“Are you nervous or something?” I teased, watching the monitor. 

Hamzah pressed his lips onto mine, his hands finding their way to my hips as he pulled me onto his lap. As our mouths moved against each other, I glanced at the screen again. 116. 

I began grinding my hips down onto him, feeling as a ten began to grow in his gym shorts. He guided my hips with his hands, a firm grip on either side. Hamzah groaned lowly at the sensation. 

“Guys, can you at least wait until we’re done filming?” Martin spoke, unimpressed. I smiled against Hamzah’s lips, pulling away and glancing at the screen once again. 125. 

“Sorry Martin…” I giggled, walking out of the room briskly. I could feel Hamzah’s eyes still on me as I left. 

After about 30 minutes, I could hear Martin finally leave. I got out of bed, quickly making my way to the filming room. Hamzah smiled as he saw me walk in. 

“Sorry, Martin is the biggest cock blocker of all time.” 

I straddled his lap in the chair, “It’s okay,” I pressed our lips together, letting his tongue explore my mouth. I grinded my hips down on his again, feeling myself get more and more soaked. He was still as hard as he was before, and what were once groans were now whimpers from the neglectance he was experiencing. 

“Fuck, that feels so good…” He praised against my lips.

After a few moments, I looked back at the screen. 120. I wasted no time taking off my shirt and letting Hamzah unclasp my bra in one quick motion. I rubbed my thighs together, he was far too good at that. 

He slipped his gym shorts and boxers off as I stood up and slid my lacy panties off as quickly as I could manage. I held his member up as I sunk myself down onto it. Hamzah all but whimpered as he bottomed me out. 

“Oh my- fucking hell. You suck me in so good, baby.” 

I started moving, bouncing up and down at a rate that shouldn’t be possible. Words try to escape my mouth, but I can’t seem to get anything coherent out. He was big, bigger than anyone I’d ever had before. Though this wasn’t even close to being our first time, his size still surprised me. 

Continuing to move up and down, my legs begin to shake with pleasure. I rest my knees on either side of his thighs, and I feel as Hamzah’s large hands grab onto the back of my legs. 

“It’s okay, you got it. Keep going baby, keep making me feel good with that pretty pussy.” 

His words are enough to push me over the edge, and I can tell he’s close too by the way his eyelids look heavier than usual and his mouth is formed into a “o” shape. 

“I- I’m gonna-” 

Hamzah nods rapidly, “Me too. Come baby, come with me.”

And I do, my fluids soaking his member as he fills me up perfectly. Once we’ve rode out our climax, I sink back down and sit there for a moment. 

roommate!hamzah is such an asshole now that you’ve been living with him for the past six months—the first two months were so great. before this whole thing, hamzah was contributing to cleaning the house, changing the cats litter, even brining you food. now all he does is record videos, eat, play games, and invite girls over just to ghost them a week later.

last week the sink was filled with dishes. cups, plates, bowls, mugs—you name it. and the best part is… they’re barely yours! you’ve been at work and taking double shifts for the extra money while hamzah stayed at home with the cats and doing whatever.

you unlocked the front door to your shared home with your annoying roommate already hearing his loud video game playing in the living room. setting your purse and keys down—you notice the pile of dishes in the sink, once again (mind you, you washed the dishes this morning). ‘oh my fucki- hamzah!’ you groan and roll your eyes. the man groans, already annoyed at you, and walks into the kitchen.

messy curls, has on the same shirt from yesterday, and those black glasses that always makes him look attractive no matter what he looks like.

your eyes look at the dishes, then at hamzah, back at the dishes and then back at hamzah. ‘how did all these dishes get in sink when i washed the dishes literally this morning?’ you smack your lips and walk pass hamzah, slightly bumping his shoulder.

he scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning on the kitchen counter—hamzah shrugs his shoulders. ‘i don’t know. all i did was make breakfast this morning.’ he yawns. breakfast? so he’s telling you that making breakfast requires a fucking lemon squeezer? oh my gosh what are you gonna do with him?

you stare at hamzah, trying not to cuss a grown man out for acting like a damn 10 year old. ‘can you just clean it please? i told you i have a special friend coming over and i would appreciate it if you cleaned up after yourself.’ you plead, hoping for once—hamzah would do the dishes. hamzah scoffs and walks back over to the couch and plopped his ass right on it and picked up his controller.

‘no. if it’s so important to you and bothering you.. you clean it, y/n.’

it took you everything in your power not to throw your purse at him and strangle him with the strap. you groan and storm to your room ‘your such a fucking asshole!’ you yelled and slam your door. let’s just say that special friend didn’t come over that night..

hamzah grinned to himself as he watched you run your mouth and slam your door, successfully getting on your nerves. that was his goal, it turned him on. you getting mad at him and cussing him out made his cock twitch in his sweatpants. sometimes you things like this happen, he sneaks to his room and quietly (not really) stroke his cock, even pulling up a picture from your instagram—making him cum all over his phone, such a fucking pervert.

-

recently, you’ve been talking to this guy who works with you and he has all the things you look for in a guy. sweet personality, caring, intelligent, and.. cleans after himself! and a few days ago he asked you on a date that today.

you finish the last curl in your hair and set the curling iron off. you reapply some more lip gloss and check yourself out in the mirror. it’s been a while since you’ve been on a date so you picked a dress that hugged your curves in all the right places.

bang! bang! bang!

‘y/n! hurry up, i need to pee!’ hamzah yells outside the bathroom door.

you roll your eyes and finish checking yourself out before opening the door, being face to face with hamzah. his whole demeanor changed, going from annoyed and pissed off to caught off guard.

hamzah has never seen you this dressed up before—i mean he’s seen you in a dress before but not one that makes his dick twitch..

‘whoa, where we going..?’ the man looks at you up and down and watch you as you leave the bathroom, following you to your room—his eyes never leaving your figure. you pick up your shoes and favorite purse before answering his question.

you chuckle ‘we aren’t going anywhere, not that it’s any of your business but im going on a date tonight.’ you smile and turn the lights out before leaving your room. date? who would be brave enough to ask you on a date? hamzah scoffs and fold his arms across his chest.

‘oh really? and who is this guy?’ hamzah mumbles, a hint of jealousy in his tone. you smile at hamzah and ignore his question, sliding on some slippers and grabbing your car keys. ‘are you not gonna answer my question?’ hamzah asks, eyes locked on your ass.

‘make sure you replace the cat litter, I don’t need our house smelling like cat shit.’ you say as your walking out the door. hamzah sigh and rubs eyes, not even wanting to look down, knowing there’s a raging hard on looking right at him back.

-

you return home with a disappointed face, heels are off, hair is in a claw clip, and the cat litter is STILL not replaced. you walk in the living room and see hamzah, just sitting in the couch—literally doing nothing. he looks up at you ‘hey, uh.. how’d your date go?’ he asks softly,

you sigh and sit beside him, leaving very little room. ‘it fucking sucked.’

oh.. that wasn’t the answer he was thinking of

hamzah looks at you, at your lips then your face. god damn.. he never realized how pretty you are. ‘the guy was so fucking disrespectful and definitely doesn’t know how to talk to a girl, and the best thing is.. he left me! he ditched me, saying he was going to bathroom… yeah right.’ you ramble, not even noticing you haven’t given hamzah a chance to talk.

he was speechless, how does a guy ditch a girl like you? mind you this man is still going crazy on how he can hate you one day and want to fuck you the next day.

you sigh and look down, fidget with your nails. ‘how come a guy never wants to be with me? i try to be perfect for someone and then they turn around and treat me like shit.’ you sadly mumble. hamzah stared at you while you be in your sad mood.

‘how about i make your night better..?’ hamzah says out of nowhere. you give hamzah a confused look and lightly scoff ‘and how will you do that? finally clean the house?’ you roll eyes. hamzah never did anything to make you happy, it felt like he was literally there just to make your life more miserable.

‘no, i wanna eat your pussy...’

excuse me? your head quickly turn towards hamzah, your eyes wide—surprised by the words that just came out his mouth. hamzah looks at you with a straight face, serious about his request.

you exhale and clear your throat, you don’t know what to say. let’s look at it this way, your messy but very attractive roommate just asked to eat you out, you haven’t sex or anything in months. you were desperate, what else would you do?

‘it’s fine if you say n-’ ‘no no no, you.. you can do it.. just fuck.. don’t tell anyone this happened’ you sighed

hamzah smirks and pulls you closer to him, like you weren’t close to him already. he grabs your hips and sits you on his lap, yours legs on each side of him. he leans in to kiss your neck, your breath hitching each lick, kiss, and nibble hamzah does on your neck. hamzah slowly lays you down on the couch, mouth staying on your neck, creating a dark hickey, marking you for everyone to see.

hamzah moves down to your thighs, pushing your dress up for full access. he planted kisses up and down both of your thighs, teasing you, what an asshole. growing impatient, you slightly groan ‘hamzah, get to it already..’ you say breathlessly. hamzah moves from your neck, a shitty grin on his face. ‘i wanted to take it slow.. but if you insist.’ hamzah removes your wet panties off of you and throws them carelessly to the side.

‘damn, you’re this wet just by me kissing you?’ he teases you. you look down at him with pleading eyes, a small moan coming out of your mouth. you and hamzah maintain eye contact as he gathers the wetness between your legs, sucking them off with a smile. hamzahs head lowers between your legs, your cunt is aching at this point. you feel his warm tongue, gasping at the contact, you mouth makes an ‘o’ shape as hamzah puts his tongue to work.

hamzah’s mouth sucked at your clit, earning a soft squeal out of your mouth. your hand moves to hamzah’s head—fingers softly gripping you blonde tips. wet, loud, and moans fill the living room, fuck, you hope blue and red aren’t in here.

without even noticing, you grind your hips against hamzah’s mouth, trying to get more but hamzah instantly shuts it down. he takes his mouth off of you and looks up at you. ‘stay still or i’m stopping.’ he snarls.

you let out a soft whimper as a response. hamzah goes down again.

you grab the closet pillow next to you and let out a muffled moan. god damn, when did this man learn how to eat pussy this good? hamzah never seemed like the type to actually give a girl pleasure, it felt like he was one of those guys who only cared about themselves cumming. you wrap your legs around hamzah’s neck and you feel his hands rub up and down your sides, you can hear his muffled moans and groans, sending vibrations through out your body.

His tongues goes deeper inside you, basically tongue-fucking you, making you see stars. swirling his tongue around and licking ways you didn’t even know was possible.

‘hamzah.. fuck..’ you moan, removing the pillow so he could hear your moans, and he did. his cock got harder the moment he heard you moan his name. you grip his blonde curls as you feel a knot in your stomach. ‘hamzah, baby.. im gonna cum..’

the knot in your abdomen tightens and your eyes close as hamzah fucks you with his tongue, going in and out. not even 2 minutes later, you explode, feeling your orgasm wash over you, cumming with a loud cry. hamzah doesn’t get off just yet, he’s making sure he gets very single drop, he’s been dreaming of his moment and now that he’s got it, he’s making sure he gets everything.

the man rises up with a smirk on his face, mouth glistening with your cum and some spit. he uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. your eyes flutter open to see him. hair is messy, eyes are low, and he’s rock hard..

you look down at the bulge in his pants and then into his eyes. ‘you want me to help you with that?’ you say, voice slight hoarse from all the loud moaning you just did. hamzah rises an eyebrow and looks down.

‘don’t worry about me. tonight was all about you.’ he grinned.

sigh.. you really hope he doesn’t tell anyone about this..

hi guys! so.. this is my first time EVER writing smut, um I hope I did okay because omg lmao. you hope you guys liked this, it’s pretty long but oh well. and also thank you for 200 likes on my last post!!! that means sooo much to me! love you guys, bye!

He knocked on the door as he came in knowing you were in they’re. His soft grin appeared on his lips as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck that was still hot.

“Congrats Hamzah! I love you! You did so good babe!” Your embrace made him groan a little as he squeezed your waist. Pulling off, you sat him down near a office chair,

“I’m sorry babe, did i hurt you?” You asked worried as he shook his head pulling you down on his lap as you began rubbing and messaging his tense shoulders.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You questioned your tired boyfriend as he shook his head. “M’just very sore right now honey. It’s just my arms though” he sighed. “I can help you with that maybe?” You smirked as your hands rolled around his shoulders and biceps. Since those months and months of training you noticed how strong he was getting. The way his biceps would be there without even flexing or how his abs we’re appearing more then ever You’ve always wanted to tell him but you never wanted to get in the way of anything. Right now, it seemed like your only chance. You kissed his forehead as his eyes were shut in tiredness.

“you were so good out there” you whispered as you kissed his jawline as he rubbed your thigh closer to your core. “All for you y/n” he opened his eyes as he cupped your face grabbing your cheek placing his lips on yours. He groaned in ache but need as your knees shifted apart fully sitting on his lap. He slowly began grinding every so lightly as you couldn’t help but part your lips from him,

“No, let me soothe you baby” you got up from his lap as you were now on your knees in between his legs as his finger traced your jawline. “Let me relieve you Hamzah” the sentence made his skin crawl and his already erect member Twitch from you already on his lap.

“Fuck baby I love the way you talk like that” he muttered as his member sprung from his shorts. You pumped his hardened cock as he grunted gripping on the sides of the chair as your warm yet wet lips met his cock as he threw his head back in pleasure

“fuck fuck fuck” he whined as you slopped all over his cock as his pre-cum mixed with your spit made his member twitch in your mouth.

“fuck y/n, your so good to me” he bucked his hips as you gagged a bit.

“Fuck we better not get caught” you bit your lip as his finger signaled ‘shh’ on his mouth.

You bopped your head up and all the way down on his long member sending pools of pleasure over him, drowning in his lust.

“baby I can’t!” He whined as a loud popping noise was made from your mouth. “I need you on me please!” He pleaded with a bead of sweat falling from his forehead as you crawled on top of him.

Your core one layer away from the contact of his cock as his hands moved all over your body. His thumb rubbed your covered clit as you moaned from your mouth to his. His thumb pressing down on your clit receiving a thrust from you. You impatiently slid your panties to the side of your heat as sliding his long girth inside of you. Seeing stars, you hid behind his ear as you moaned right into his eardrums as his nails were pierced into you

“Fuck I haven’t been able to do this in forever- fuck y/n!” He stuttered as you placed your hands on his shoulders sitting up, “shh just relax” you sat on top of his cock as you slowly moved up and down from his cock as he gripped your beasts throwing his head back as you did works on his cock. Small whispers were heard from his mouth as you picked up speed.

“Shit, you’re so fucking gorgeous y/n! God-“ he panted as he fought the soreness and pleasure of his body. “You feel so fucking good- ngh-“

Rapidly skin slapping was heard from inside the room as him bucking his hips helped you find your g-spot. His hands were firmly held on to your waist as your hands tugged on to his ‘fashion nova’ hoodie.

“My. God. Baby!” He panted as he took a breath between words as his mouth sucked on your nipples sending chills through your arms. His tongue circled around your sensitive tits as you loudly moaned, your thrusts became sloppier but slower as you felt your self coming up.

“Fuck Hamzah! M’close-“ you whined loudly.

“Me too baby!” He replied as he took all his force thrusting into you harder as your body shook in pleasure coming all over his cock as he moaned nipping at your neck and kissing your lips again. Your hips melted onto him as he came into you, filling you in his cum. He’s missed you very much. He missed how badly you’d squirm under him.

“Fuckkk!” He moaned as he rubbed your back, “your so fucking good baby, I did it all for your baby.” He added kissing your forehead as he rubbed your back.

You both got dressed as you made your way back to your shared house with a victory and more energy in stored for tonight. |

-