#martin and hamzah

[collaredf4g]

[mattyswhqre]

‧₊˚ ⋅˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙯𝙖𝙝 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿. 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗌𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝖾𝗌. 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖼𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍, "𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 ��𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾.𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗃 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇. 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾. 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋. 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗍. 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝗐𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄. 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻���𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉. 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 wetted it with his spit. looking at the flushed head, precum leaking from the tip. he knew he had to finish what he started without you :((

𖦹.

@dwohtsgf @gabri3la-sturns @luvmeholdme

[ifwdominicfike]

OHH I NEEDDDD THATTTTTTTT

[cup1dluvhss]

would yall fw… benoftheweek stuff..

i’ve noticed that there’s not a lot of stuff on him here which is diabolical and needs to be changed so lmk ! and ofc i would still write for hamzah as well

[slushynoobzbias]

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— 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

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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 ˚⋅

•••

[hamzaheaven]

High fic with hamzah?

a/n: writing this fried as fuck so it only seemed right xxxx thank u for the req :’) also first time posting smut im terrified (its written in the way i enjoy smut so no vulgar words, moreso descriptions i guess?? idk pls im ashamed lowkey.) and its long as hell ok ill stop apologising now. sorry

tags: friends to lovers, tension.

warnings: weed smoking, dry humping.

NSFW <3

��── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

you feel your eyes strain slightly as the smoke spills from between your lips, your gaze focused mindlessly on the orange tip of the joint. you’re sitting on Hamzah’s bed, your back resting against his headboard. you and him had been friends for a while now, but it was starting to become harder for the both of you to ignore the blatant attraction and tension that lingered between you. the suggestive tones curling around every word, the glances that last a little too long. it was evident in everything, but you both seem to keep skirting around it. tonight, it feels heavier. hamzah had called you earlier, his voice laced with something softer than usual, asking if you wanted to come over and smoke. you didn’t hesitate. now, the two of you exist in easy silence. 

hazily, your attention drifts across the room. Hamzah is sitting in his desk chair, hunched over slightly as he edits a video on his computer. the screen is the only strong illumination in the otherwise dark room, the blue-ish light reflecting off the glasses on his face. your chest rises and falls slowly as you watch him, your eyes flicking across his back. his jaw clenches and unclenches in focus, his fingers moving over his mouse mindlessly. 

as if he notices your dwelling gaze, he turns his head over his shoulder to look back at you. another moment of comfortable, wordless silence passes as you simply stare at him, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“what?” he quietly asks, the ghost of a chuckle laced within the simple question. even from behind his glasses, you can tell his eyes have turned a little red, too, like your own. 

you blink your eyes slowly, sparking the lighter in your hand a couple of times before shaking your head and shrugging. “nothing,” you mumble back, looking down at the lighter for a moment before back up to him. “admiring my view,” you add, your tone a little unserious as you sit up slightly. 

he immediately returns his attention back to his screen, humorously shaking his head in disapproval. the sound of his mouse clicking is echoing throughout the silence once more. “don’t say that,” he stoically says, “ew,” he adds, but you are quick to catch the tiny twitch of a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

you can’t help but puff out a laugh, knowing how quickly he cringes at comments like that. silently, you relight the joint, your throat and lungs contracting slightly as you inhale. “you almost done?” you ask, your voice soft as the smoke billows out along with your words. 

he doesn’t respond immediately, humming instead. “yeah, just need to-” he starts, cutting himself off as he clicks around on his screen before continuing his sentence, “cut these clips a bit more…” 

a slightly dramatic sigh falls from your lips as you place the joint on the ashtray on his bedside table. “well, you better hurry up, or there won’t be anything left for you to smoke,” you reply, your words carrying a teasingly taunting tone. 

he clicks his tongue in response, still keeping his eyes focused on the screen. “don’t you dare,” he mumbles, his mouse now moving faster across his computer as you amusedly continue to watch. he takes another five agonisingly long minutes to finish up, turning his monitor off before sliding the desk chair back and getting up. in the now mostly dark room, he stretches, his bones crackling a little, a soft groan eliciting from his throat. you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, the same sheepish grin still on your face as he sluggishly pads over to the bed. “scoot,” he mumbles, scratching his hair and waving his hand for you to move to the other side of his bed. 

you do as he says, moving over to make room for him, your movements a little slower and heavier than usual. the mattress dips beside you, his body plopping down on where you had previously been sitting. a deep exhale passes through his lips as he sinks deeper against the pillows, shifting to get more comfortable. your eyes feel heavy as they seem glued to him, tentatively watching his every move. his fingers reach for the joint resting on the ashtray, taking off his glasses with his other hand. he looks at the joint for a second, before sparking the lighter, the orange flame illuminating his face in the dark room. you swallow sharply, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and lolling your head back gently against the headboard. hamzah’s yet to notice your shameless staring as he takes a long drag, inhaling before the smoke billows back out of his nose and parted lips. finally, he turns his head your way, catching your gaze as it was already on him. he mirrors your movements, resting his head on the headboard as well. 

the atmosphere in the room feels a little loaded, the tension between him and you almost palpable in the air, the effects of the marijuana only intensifying it. neither of you look away. his gaze flickers down for a second—just barely. it’s quick, but you catch it. the subtle drop of his eyes, lingering just a second too long on your lips before they snap back up to meet yours.

inhaling sharply, you move a little closer, teasingly placing your hand on his upper thigh as you lean over him, reaching for the joint he had laid back on the ashtray. he flexes the muscles in his thighs in reaction to your touch. your head feels fuzzy, your eyelids strained as you relight the tip, staying in place instead of moving back to your previous spot on the bed. the smoke passes through your parted lips, the taste of the green plant lingering in your mouth before you turn to look at Hamzah. 

his head is lolled back against the headboard as he watches you through low eyes, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. he shifts slightly as you keep your hand on his thigh, leaning on him to prop yourself up a little as you turn your body towards him fully. with your blood-shot eyes, you keep them locked onto his own, taking another drag before tentatively leaning closer. he watches with anticipation as you stop inches in front of his face, blowing the smoke against his parted lips teasingly. you flip the joint around in your fingers for him to wrap his lips around the end, but he doesn’t react for a moment. he seems to contemplate something, his chest rising and falling slowly as he blinks at you. 

wordlessly, he gently moves your hand away from his face, taking the joint from between your fingers and placing it on the ashtray. “c’mere,” he then mumbles, shortly nudging his chin upwards. his hand gently traces up your arm and into the crook of your neck, his fingers lacing in the hair at the back of your neck. you feel your chest flutter slightly at his soft command, watching gingerly as he tugs your face closer to his. 

teasingly, he ghosts his parted lips against yours, grinning to himself. he juts out his bottom lip a little, an airy exhale rolling off your tongue as it touches your mouth. you move your head to the other side, trying to find a way around his teasing, but he doesn’t immediately let up. instead, he removes his thumb from the back of your neck, carefully tracing it along your jawline until it reaches your bottom lip. he pads the finger across the soft, slightly damp skin. you can’t help but stifle a sigh, placing your other hand on his chest gently. a little frustratedly, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. 

he notices your frustrated gesture, biting back a light chuckle. his free hand tugs on your thigh, guiding your body to straddle his lap with heavy and slow movements. he exhales against your parted lips once more, teasing the tightened tether of tension carelessly once more before finally giving in. 

your hands slide up to his neck, your spine arching slightly as he gently presses his lips against yours. the dense haze in your head lifts just a little at the feeling, the hand that isn’t curled into the hair at the back of your head moving up your thigh and under your shirt. you inhale sharply against his mouth at his rather cold fingers stretching across the warm skin of your bare back. he applies a gentle pressure, pushing you down onto him a little. his eyebrows furrow, his heavy eyes fluttering shut at the friction. in response, you gently dig your nails into the back of his head. shivers continue to roll down your spine as he keeps his cold hand there, absentmindedly guiding the way you’re moving. 

you pull a hand through your hair, moving it out of the way, never breaking the kiss. something about the effects of the weed seems to make every touch, sound and move feel like a breathtaking bliss. a low, soft exhale tumbles from his throat, strangling into a whiny, barely audible moan. “fuck,” he curses against your lips when you roll your hips, just barely, experimentally, and a sharp inhale cuts through the space between you.

his fingers dig into your waist like he’s attempting to ground himself. his breath shudders as your hips roll over him again. his head falls back against the headboard with a quiet, broken sound—something between a sigh and a whimper. you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles go taut beneath your hands, the way his grip on you wavers between restraint and desperation.

“f-fuck,” he repeats, his voice thin and unsteady. he’s already unraveling, his chest rising and falling faster as his hands twitch against your skin. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this—so quickly undone, so easily wrecked just by the slow grind of your hips, the teasing drag of your fingers up his chest. 

you curl your spine slightly, leaning down as your lips ghost over his jaw, trailing down to the side of his neck, where you press a single, deliberate kiss to the warm skin just below his ear. his whole body tenses beneath you, a shaky, barely-contained whimper tumbling from his lips. 

“please–,” he starts, but he can’t seem to finish the sentence. his hands flex on your waist, his eyebrows furrowing deeper, his voice soft and whiny. 

you hum against his neck, the vibration making him shiver. “please, what? hm?” you murmur, your lips brushing against his pulse point, pressing a deep kiss there. 

he swallows hard, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “don’t… don’t stop,” he stammers, his voice catching on the words. His fingers twitch against your skin, restless, desperate, barely able to even guide your movements anymore. 

you pull back just enough to look at him, your gaze flickering over his face. his lips are parted, slightly swollen from how hard he’s been biting down on them in an attempt to be quieter. his pupils are blown wide, a deep furrow in his eyebrows. he looks wrecked already, and you’ve barely even touched him.

you tilt your head slightly as you listen to his quiet plea, making the coil in your lower abdomen tighten. your fingers tentatively trace the hem of his shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, dragging your nails lightly up his stomach. his breath stutters at the touch, and when you press them down slightly, just enough to make him feel it, he lets out a high, needy whimper. 

his hands shoot up, gripping your wrists like he’s trying to stop you—but his hold is weak, like he doesn’t actually want you to stop. “wait… wait,” he tries, his voice barely above a whisper, breathy and shaking, giving away he doesn’t want to cum so quick. his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering shut. his chest is heaving as you curiously halt your movements. 

you lean in again, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. “you’re so sensitive,” you murmur against his skin, and the way his breath catches, the way his thighs flex beneath you, tells you everything you need to know. you gently continue moving, bringing back the friction that was making him writhe underneath you. his taut muscles immediately melt again under your body, a whiny exhale falling from his parted lips. 

“y/n–...” he tries to speak, but your name is quick to die in his throat when you grind against him again, slower this time, more deliberate. his hands clench and unclench at your sides, his breathing turning into short, hitched gasps. his voice wavers, and then he lets out a soft, whiny moan that makes your pulse spike. you watch as his head turns to the side, his skin burning, like he’s embarrassed by the sounds slipping out of his mouth. 

but you don’t want him to be quiet. 

tilting his chin back toward you with a gentle hand, you hover just inches from his lips, your thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. “don’t hide from me,” you murmur, your voice softer now, coaxing, suggestive on the shell of his ear. “I want to hear you.”

his breath shudders, his grip on you tightening for a split second before going slack again. another curse word tumbles from his lips, his head dropping forward, his voice coming out in airy whines. “fuck… i’m, s-so close,” he stumbles over his whispered words, his chest heaving. 

you watch him, your own breath catching in your throat now, too. 

he lifts his head again, messily searching for your lips with his own, breathing raggedly. his grip on you is tight; harsh, almost as you continue rolling your hips, feeling how he pushes his own hips up every now and then. his whole body is tense, caught between pleasure and overwhelming sensitivity, and the way he’s looking at you—dazed, unfocused, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded—only spurs you on.

your mouths sloppily connect once more, and you can tell he’s struggling to focus. 

hamzah is trembling slightly beneath you now, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you keep moving against him, your nails roaming his back with deliberate slowness. his head tilts back, exposing the long curve of his throat, and the soft, desperate sounds spilling from his lips are enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

“i cant h… im gonna–,” his voice breaks on a whimper, the muscles in his thighs going taut, a string of loud moans following his cut off words. you watch with parted lips as his head drops back against the headboard. his expression contorts with the overwhelming ecstasy that thrills through all of his nerve endings, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you feel the muscles in his stomach contract and release in rhythm with his whiny moans. they slowly grow softer, and you bite back a brief chuckle as you feel a growing, warm, wet spot in his pants underneath you. his hands slide down from your waist to your hips, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, seeming to relish in the sensations pulsating through his body. 

you swallow sharply, deliberately shifting a little on top of him, causing him to wince a little at the overstimulation of the sensitive area. he lazily opens his eyes into yours, his lips a little puffy and glistening as he keeps them parted, his panting slowing down slightly. his eyes are still a little unfocused and hazy as he flickers them across your face for a moment, a glint of endearment in them. he then drops his gaze down to his crotch, groaning a little. “look at this fucking mess,” he mumbles, also noticing the wet spot in the fabric, along with some of it splayed out on the skin of his stomach where his shirt had moved up. 

a breathy chuckle falls from your lips as he looks back up at you. “why would you make me ruin a perfectly good pair of sweatpants like that?” he asks jokingly, his eyes still half-lidded as he amusedly gazes at your state; a pink hue on your cheeks, lips puffy and damp, eyes heavy and your hair a little disheveled. he carefully wraps his arms around your waist, craning his neck so he can comfortably press a sweet, simple kiss on your mouth. 

you shrug playfully, grinning into the kiss. “my bad.”

[nigtmarcz]

⎯⎯ bf!hamzah headcanons

— whenever hamzah plays a game with voice chat, he’ll make you wear his headset and talk into the mic as if you’re playing, just to troll the randoms (and also to show off how good he is at the game)

— if hamzah was streaming on twitch, he'd try to pull you into the frame to show you off, even if you didn’t want to show your face right after waking up

— if hamzah’s tired from editing videos, he’ll beg you to finish it for him. you always say no, so he ends up doing it himself anyway, muttering, "just say you hate me…"

— he’d always refer to you as "mom" or "mama" whenever talking to red and blue

— would send you instagram reels, and you’d hear him laughing from the other room.

"you know you can just show me in person, right?"

— before hamzah would put on his glasses, he’d always make you wear them first and admire how cute you looked in them, even though you had perfect eyesight

— every month, you two would create a new Spotify collab playlist and try to make them have a similar vibe

"okay, why did it transition from bladee to lily chou-chou?"

— you two would definitely have matching discord profile pictures, but not the typical anime couple ones—more like sonic the hedgehog and mario kissing

— he’s not really into pda, but if you were hanging out with friends and everyone stepped out of the room, he’d start hugging you, clinging onto you, and kissing your face everywhere. but if someone walked in, he’d quickly pull away acting all suspicious and shy

— before going to bed, he’d purposely pull all the blankets away and hog them for himself, leading to you two playfully fighting in bed

— his tiktok drafts are filled with you two doing couple trends or dances. you’d usually film them after getting high, then spend hours re-watching them and laughing your ass off

— if he was busy for the day, he'd text you every time he was doing something

"filming right now!"

"gonna get some food you want anything babe?"

"taking a massive shit rn.."

— you trained him to be the perfect photographer for you. even though him recording himself is his job, this man still has no clue how to take pictures for anyone else

— when you guys go shopping, hamzah actually pays attention and helps you pick things out

"do you think this top is cute babe?"

"ehh.. i like this one better."

— he’d always put you onto new music and give you the artist's backstory, sharing all the little details about them

— if either blue or red was laying on your lap, hamzah would playfully snatch them away from you

"don't touch my kid"

"you mean OUR kid??"

— he would always mention you during the podcast but in the most out of pocket way.

"yeah y/n loves to smell my farts. that's what i think true love is."

"dude? what are you saying?"

[guliexe]

━━━HOTEL VLOG 18+

Hamzah x Female!Reader

.ᐟwarnings/tags: hotel vlog, soft dom!hamzah, friends to lovers, pent up tension, making out, nipple sucking, oral (f receiving), kinda orgasm denial??, dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, praise, creampie, fluff, aftercare

♡ you go to a 5 star hotel with mandy, martin and hamzah for a vlog. hamzah can’t stop thinking about you and you eventually fuck!

.ᐟw/c: 4.6k

It was Martin’s idea to bring everyone to this huge five-star hotel for a vlog, including you. You had become friends with Martin and Hamzah a few months ago, and they started including you in some of their videos and podcasts.

Stepping into the hotel, you, Martin, Mandy, and Hamzah checked in and made your way to your rooms. The place was even more luxurious than you had imagined—marble floors, chandeliers, and the kind of elegance that made you feel a little out of place. You and Mandy were sharing one room, while the boys had their own.Mandy grinned at you as she tossed her bag onto one of the beds. “This is gonna be so fun! Did you see the pools? they’re insane!” she exclaimed.

“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

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© guliexe

[h-yalexaaaa]

gotta love the nerdy weird awkward but confident at times men that are so attractive for no reason

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[chalantzah]

boyfriend!hamzah

| warnings : slushynoobz humour, fluff

- random imessage conversations with your long-term boyfriend part 3

tag list @aalanahh0 @noturbabe22 @martiniibluee07 @mopslusher @ladylincoln @officialthrad @urfavblonde27 @infinitefireflies @notmeee3 @slicdfo0t @beybeys-world @shytrashpastadream-blog @pictureperfectblue

[kentahoe]

a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. friends to lovers sorta >_< .

cw: SEX?🤕

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the more stupid you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you couldn’t help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing over the barrier of his cushion to yours, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “Nervous. In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him.

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers grazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out in pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable not to have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from their trapped place at the back his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther down his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out in concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy and mindless— mindless: like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt, to the apples of your cheeks, and you knew you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting your head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, giving his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

There it was.

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

MASTERLIST!

second freaky fic i’ve ever written ;-; pls be gracious.

also lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

[coolgrl111]

i need more hamzah…….. please…

heheh!!! fulfilling my service as a new tumblr slushy noobz creator or whateva… do u guys want more

part 2 (but lowkey not a series, just random texts)

hamzah x reader social media au

[fireflyinks]

hi girlyyy I love ur hamzah fics sm u write him so good it’s crazy! I was thinking abt their new vid with the heartbeat thing and I was wondering if u could make a fic about that!!

keep up the workkk💗💗💗💗💗

heartbeat

hamzah x reader smut

18+ MINORS DNI

a/n : YOUR GIRL IS BACKKKKKKKK!!!!!! sorry this video isn't really new anymore but I'VE BEEN SO BUSY. i hope your all like this, it's not great but hey, at least I posted!!!

contains : smut obvi, riding, lowkey getting caught (EMBARRASING!!!), no y/n, kinda dom reader!!! (everyone say "THANK YOU VI", established relationship, heartbeat kink (idk if that's a thing lmao) and probably more idk it's smut read at your own risk

--

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. 

I can’t help but look back at the screen, 81.