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if u don’t like my posts send me $1000 and i’ll delete whatever one u want
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SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
📸: babyrentner
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anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.
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before pride month ends does anyone wanna admit they have a crush on me
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Nothing LGBT happened to me this pride month so we have to start it over til we get it right
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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐦
Truth or dare part 2
✮₊⊹₊⋆ ⋆₊ ⊹ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊⊹₊✮ ⊹₊⋆ ⋆₊ ⊹✮
✶ You and your roommate Hamzah throw a house party in celebration of his channels milestones. But how long does it take for you to really learn why they call it “liquid courage”?
✶ Tags: Rpf fanfic/smut, masturbation, panty thief activities, 2.3k words
✶ A/n: Enjoy! (✯◡✯)
✮₊⊹₊⋆ ⋆₊ ⊹ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊⊹₊✮ ⊹₊⋆ ⋆₊ ⊹✮
Hamzah sat in bed, phone tossed away like it was poison as his hands ran through his blond curls. He knew he majorly fucked up, he couldn’t run from his own roommate, couldn’t run from all the shit he let slip when he was drunk. He couldn’t think of what to do or what to say, figured a cold shower would take his mind off the flashing memories on his mind and ease the heat in his stomach. Not to mention, the thought of leaving his room and seeing your face in the kitchen gave him serious chills.
So he stalked into the bathroom, turned on the shower immediately, using the rain like sound to seem more occupied than he was. In reality Hamzah stood in front of the mirror, mind racing with the memories of the night. The the way you loosened up as you drank, throwing him looks with low eyes and a cheeky smile. He pulled his shirt over his warm skin, steam filling the room as the thought of you under him filled his mind. Hamzah could barely believe it really happened, the thought of you like that had crossed his mind many nights but it was truly nothing like he imagined.
You were so much better
Hamzah shook his head, trying to rid himself from the haunting thoughts of your moans, your twisted face as his mouth latched onto you. He couldn’t help but let the images work him up, it didn’t help that the picture of you was weighing in his pocket like a brick. He looked at himself in the fogged mirror, sighing as he emptied his pockets to pull his sweats off. He flinched as his hand was met with a familiar lacy touch. Guilt washed over him, its not normal to steal your roommates underwear. He tossed them on the counter, swearing he would return them to you as he yanked his pants off.
He stood in his boxers, the heat of the steamy room easing into his shoulders. It was perverted to do anything with your panties, he told himself he was above such dirty behavior. So why did he feel his hand reach for the small fabric, why didn’t he stop himself from holding it out in front of him, and why was his body reacting so strongly to a dirty pair of panties.
Even as he brought the fabric closer to his face, his brain was begging him to stop- to think of the hole he was digging himself into. Yet his hand moved on their own, inching closer and closer to his face. Hamzahs face heated up as his nose tickled the lacy fabric, he paused, nervous like you would burst in the door at any second, then took a quick chaste breath in through his nose. His dick twitched in his pants as your scent barely filled his head, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a second deep breath, choking back a moan as he grew harder in black shorts. He held them to his face, cheeks burning as his free hand smoothed over the growing issue in his boxer briefs.
He stroked himself through the thin fabric, shuddering as he took in your scent in greedy breaths. His resolve was quickly broken as you filled his senses, the steam-filled room made it easy to imagine your embrace around him as his hand slipped past the band of his boxers. Hamzah smushed the fabric into his nose, relishing in the feel of plush lace kissing his skin. Steam coated his skin as he imagined your hand in his place as he had many times before. Each breath sent an electric wave right to his core, he stifled his moans with your panties as his hand rolled over his slick tip.
It all happened so fast, he’s standing in billowing clouds of steam huffing your panties like a life line. His chest rumbling with low grunts as he stroked his cock in his other hand. Legs tensing as he pumped his hand around his hard length, moans growing in intensity as he got rougher with himself. It was getting harder to control himself, his knees almost giving out as he pushed himself closer and closer to the edge. Hamzah’s hand gliding across his shaft relentlessly combined with the scenes of last night had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He whimpered into the steamy room as he barreled toward his climax, so close, until-
SLAM
Hamzah jumped out of his skin as the house shook, he had lost himself in the moment, forgetting the threat of you presence was looming. He set your underwear down, orgasm long gone now- fizzled away like sand in his hand, leaving an aching pain for him to deal with. He felt deeply ashamed and perverse, more importantly robbed. He was in the middle of smoothing his hand over his flushed face when his phone buzzed from the countertop. He peaked at the screen, eyes widening when he saw your name at the top of his notifications.
“heading out to pick up some stuff lmk if u need anything”
Oh, maybe this could work, he thought, gave him more time to think about what he would say to you when you came back. This was the perfect time to get some time to himself, he finally stepped into the scorching shower.
Hamzah let the hot water melt away his worries, the heat cascaded over his head and down his smooth back and fit arms. He shut his eyes and began to wash himself, focusing on the sound of the water pattering on the porcelain floor and the glide of the soapy loofa against him. This proved hard though, because no matter what he thought about he still couldn’t ignore the throbbing in between his legs. If he turned the knob and made the shower cold like he told himself he would, his problem would wash away. It was the sensible solution, the most simple with no guilt or regret needed, yet the feeling of his soapy hands against his olive skin didnt make him want to make a sensible decision.
His breathing picked up, slick hands working lower on his body under the guise of lathering soap. He tried to be light handed, still fighting with shame, but his dick twitched and ached anytime his hands grazed around them. “Fuck a cold shower”, he thought, he couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. Hamzah wrapped his fist around the base, groaning into the steamy air. He was grateful that you had stepped out the house at this point, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control the noises he was about to make.
He sighed as his hand worked up his shaft slowly, shuddering as he rolled his fingers around the tip before dragging back to the base. Already so hard, he didn’t wait to pickup the pace, the thought of you on your knees last night walked him through the pleasure. He remembered the last dare he asked, the look in your eyes as he posed you. Hamzah had always secretly loved your face, thought you were the prettiest thing but never dared to say anything. This wasn’t the first time your face had popped in his head while his hand was on his dick, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel shame wash over him with every thought, it just meant that he was better at ignoring it.
His hand slowed, he stopped only to peak his body out of the shower, reaching for his phone on a nearby shelf. He pulled the phone back with him, right hand slowly stroking himself while the other pulled up that sacred picture of you. His dick pulsed in his hand, body tired from being pent up for so long. Hamzah was quick to slide through apps, the sight of it alone enough to have him fighting against ending too soon. He wasn’t sure if you were going to change your mind about him having the picture ,it might be the last time he could really enjoy this so he wanted it to last.
Hamzah looked down at you through the screen, scorching water cascading down his body as his brown eyes met with pixelated ones. He rolled his hand slowly across his length, thankful you weren’t home to hear the whimpers filling the bathroom. He felt astonished anytime he looked at the picture, shocked you really agreed to let him take it. It was truly filthy, the way you bit your lip as you looked up at him, the evidence of the night smudging your makeup and rolling down your cheek. His hand picked up in pace as he ogled the picture, remembering you under him as he rolled his tip in his palm.
He grew louder as he pumped his cock, switching between long slow strokes to short fast ones had him whimpering into the open air. He had to fight his head from hanging back in ecstasy, determined to keep his eyes on you the whole way through. Hamzah felt so pent up, loud sighs and groans slipping past him as he chased his peak. He pictured your hands in his place, remembered how you stuck your tongue out to tease his tip the night before. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he abused his dick, the thought of you under him throwing him over the edge. Hamzah grew louder as he came, a string of curses and your name flying out into the steamy air. Ropes of white hit the porcelain floor as he worked himself through his climax, balls tensing with every wave of pleasure. The intensity had him bracing against the tile wall, legs shaking with the after shocks of his high.
His chest expanded as he caught his breath, stepping into the stream to let the water cascade over his face and down his body. After a pause he looked down at the phone still in his hand, swiped to message you sent him from before. You seemed to be acting casual, like nothing had ever happened. Hamzah was fine with acting, he’s been doing it so long already, he couldn’t bare the thought of wading through thick tension everyday. He sent a thumbs up reaction, setting his phone aside so he could wash away his remorse.
Long after his shower, when steam had settled and set on the mirror and he had cleansed himself of the mess, he dressed himself and headed downstairs. Red and Blue were quick to run to his feet, dancing between his steps as he walked towards the kitchen. They meowed up at him as he got to the cabinet doors, swinging them open and reaching for cat food. The meows turned to howls as they circled his feet like sharks, pleading for food like they had been starved of nutrients. “ok, ok! jesus…” He looked down at them, cat food in hand as Red clawed at his pants. He filled the bowls and set them down, watching the cats devour the food like feral strays.
Hamzah looked at his phone as he moved to the couch, it had been a while since you headed out. He told himself he was going to think of something to say to you and yet after all this time he didn’t even know where to start. Hamzah valued your friendship and company much more than anything, he wants to preserve whatever he could. If you blamed it on the drinks- he would too, shrugging his shoulders and saying it happens sometimes. If you said it was just a one time thing, he wouldn’t bring it up again, putting on his best poker face for the rest of eternity if he had too. But if you said you wanted more from him?
Hamzah was ripped from his thoughts as he heard jingles from behind the front door, he had half a mind to bolt to his room and slam the door shut but stood his ground instead. He felt glued to the couch anyhow, stuck as the door creaked oped then closed. He listened to your slow footsteps as you grew closer to the living room, staring at his blank phone until the steps stopped. He slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, you looked back at him silently, shifting your weight to one leg and lifting up your right hand to brandish a brown bag that was emitting a smell so enticing.
“I got wingstop.”
Your face was deadpan- not worried or nervous, just normal. Thats okay, he could be normal.
Just follow your lead
“you went out for just wings?” He teased, matching the smirk that slid unto you features as you moved to set the bag on the coffee table in front of him.
“Nooo i just knew you were gonna be begging for food so i picked up something.” Hamzah looked at the other bags and asked about them. He listened as you described your trip out, recounting your steps as you checked off errands throughout the day. He reached for the wings, but your hands shot out to stop his. Hamzah stopped in his tracks, you only pulled your hands off when you gave you a puzzled look.
“Sorry i just… look what else i picked up…”
You shoved a hand into the inside pocket of your jacket, pulling out a small clear jar filled with green flower. “Figured it would taste better with the wings… soo…” You set it between you on the table, a peace offering between you.
Hamzah knew that this was a bad combination but he certainly wasn’t strong enough to reject you. There was a pause as he looked at you, theres was a glint of nerves in your eyes as quiet settled into the air. You couldn’t bear the quiet, so you broke it first, head tilting to one side as you asked him, truthfully
“…..Do you wanna smoke with me?”
𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹𓁹
A/n: this part was mid but its ok bc Part 3 soon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Tgs: @yesimahoebitch
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I need puppy dog part 4😓
im finishing up a dif fic then ill start with pt4 pinky promise <\3
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#the thought of him with v-shaped bangs#this single moment#changed my brain chemistry#joost klein#i will nevr stop thinking abt this
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ok google how do i propose deeper friendship and intimacy to my mutuals without feeling like a pervert predator
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