SUMMARY: you and hamzah have been close friends forever, but during one of your routine movie nights, things get heated and confessions are made…
WARNINGS: 18+, no piv, dry-humping, making out, cussing, female reader, mentions y/n
3.1k words
“First of all, what game are you playing?” You asked, grabbing both bowls of ice cream that you prepared and heading to the couch where you and Hamzah were watching Star Wars.
“Uh, does it matter? This is a once in a lifetime chance I'm giving you to be in my video!” Hamzah teased, making a face like he thought you were insane.
You playfully hit his shoulder and laughed. “Well considering some of your videos are… questionable to say the least, I’m gonna need more context.”
Hamzah just spooned ice cream in his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. While you laughed and looked back towards the TV, he kept his eyes on you, admiring. Tonight was one of your guys’ monthly ice cream nights that you started since you met about 6 years ago. Ever since you were teenagers, you both have been side-by-side. The best of friends.
Hamzah took notice of your pajama shorts, large t-shirt, and messy hair. He had no idea how your most disheveled look still made him stare.
You felt his gaze and looked at him, but before you caught him, Hamzah looked back at the tv.
Now it was your turn to admire. Hamzah had always looked effortlessly hot in your eyes, but movie nights especially. Something about his careless look made your heartbeat a little faster. Like this view of him, in pajamas, with strands of dark, curly hair flying everywhere, was only made for you. Especially when he wore his glasses.
This secret staring match lasted the whole movie.
Usually, when movie night ended and the icecream was finished, Hamzah would talk a bit and then head home. It always killed him to leave you.
However, this time, Hamzah planned on telling you something he’d been hiding from since he met you. He wouldn’t back out of it this time
To stall, and make the night continue, he started with a simple converstation. “Wait, so do you want to be in the video or not, ‘cause I completely understand if it’s too much. I know me and Martin can get, like, kinda weird but it's what the viewers like so…”
Hamzah was rambling and you knew that if you didn’t stop him now he’d go on forever. You leaned over, and quickly put your hand over his mouth, shutting him up. You were both already situated with your legs basically pressed together, so reaching him was no problem.
“You’re rambling, Hamzah.” you laughed and kept your hand over his mouth. “And yeah I guess I’ll be in a video.” You tried to seem bossy by pointing a finger into his chest “But it we better be playing Sims or Episode.”
Then you realised just how many places you were touching him…
Teasing in your guys’ relationship was the norm, but recently, it has started to feel more like flirting than friendly teasing. There’s been a lot more… tension.
He stopped talking when you covered his mouth and smiled underneath your hand.
Recently, everything you do has felt more like flirting, now that you think about it.
At first it was innocent, a few touches and remarks, because it felt comfortable. Now, though, something hotter brimmed underneath everything.
Maybe you took it too far sometimes, with very obvious innuendos and such, but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to him. However, in the back of your mind, there was that voice reminding you that Hamzah is probably just being friendly and you were overthinking it.
You didn't want to take that chance, so you never brought up the obvious shift between you two.
You kept your hand on his mouth a bit longer than was probably normal, but the look that Hamzah was giving was almost magnetic. There was something in his eyes that was brand new, and raw. He lightly grabbed your wrist and moved to hold your hand instead, his eyes still locked on yours.
It was silent until he opened his mouth, deciding to speak up.
Now, Hamzah decided. Now he would tell you. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to-”
“You should really start wearing your glasses more.” You winced internally at the accidental compliment/confession that slipped out.
“What?” He had a physical reaction to your sudden outburst and started laughing. “What’re you talking about? My glasses? What, why?” He seemed super nervous , and you could tell by his familiar awkward smirk from when we he’s flustered. If only he knew what that slight upturn of his lips did to you.
His laugh, your proximity to each other, and his just overall look meant your insides were basically jelly. He was still holding your hand, and once you realized it, the rosy blush spreading up your neck was inevitable.
“Don’t tease, you obviously know why.” You answered, looking away to try and hide the blush.
“Yeah?” He asked, in the most sensual voice you’ve ever heard from him, while looking down at your intertwined hands.
You were extremely surprised by the sudden deepness of his voice but decided to hide your reaction. Instead, you rolled your eyes and sat up to take your bowls to the sink. You needed to get away before you let your impulsive thoughts get the best of you.
He let you walk away, contrary to what his mind was reeling with, slowly dropping your hand as you moved away.
He watched you as you walked, with his eyes on the way your shorts were slightly riding up, and how your legs were on full display.
You set the dishes in the sink and turned to head back but were surprised with Hamzah’s towering figure.He followed you into the kitchen and was standing right infront of you. He was situated with one hand on the back counter and the other on the island, blocking your way out.
Instead of arguing, you just put a hand on your hip, and looked at him. Nervousness consumed your mind as you fully realized just how close to you Hamzah was standing. Instead of moving away, however, you stayed close, catching his familiar, minty scent. You looked back into his eyes-His eyes that held the exact same searing gaze as earlier. He seemed to make nonverbal promises. Of what? You weren’t sure but how he was looking was almost dirty.
“Y/n, what I was saying earlier…” Hamzah began again but briefly stopped for a second and looked at you expectantly.
“What?” You asked confusedly why he stopped.
“Oh, just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to rudely interrupt me again.”
You scoffed and faked hurt, “rudely?! I complimented you!”
“Yeah, I guess.” His smirk was back and his eyes were on yours. If it was anyone else, eye contact would have made you look away. Except Hamzah isn’t just anyone, and his eyes were like pools you could drown in.
He moved an inch closer, testing the waters. When he saw a slight pink to your cheeks at his closeness, he gained sudden confidence.
“Don’t let me leave tonight.” He suddenly spoke.
You were taken aback with his words, “What, like lock the doors? Are you going to transform at midnight or something?”
He let out a breathy laugh, but his tone never shifted.
“You know what I mean, Y/n.” A deep breath. “Let me stay. Let me show you what I…”
“Hamzah. Of course you can stay over. I’d never push you-”
“No, y/n that’s not…”
A beat of silence passed until you softly spoke up.
“What, Hamzah?”
“Let me show you what I think about everytime I’m near you.”
His words were ringing in your ears and your entire body almost had a physical reaction to what he was insinuating.
“Let me show you what I’ve been imagining for the past 5 damn years, Y/n.”
You were stunned, because 5 years? That’s almost for as long as you’ve known him.
“5 years…” You tested the words out loud and it was like an award winning melody to your ears.
“Yeah, 5 years. Actually scratch that. 6 years.” He stood closer, and spoke quieter. “Since I saw you for the first time I’ve been holding back from you. From admitting how I feel because I was afraid I might lose you.”
Like a dam, you broke. Anything along those lines were exactly what you’ve been wishing for, and here those words were, out in the open.
Finally,
You grabbed the front of his hoodie with surprising strength and pulled him down to your level.
Before you could follow through and kiss him, you just held his lips near yours instead.
You both shared one breath, staring at each others' lips. You stayed like this, too afraid to ruin the moment if you went too fast. Just the whisper of Hamzah’s lips against yours filled you with an insane amount of need.
However, Hamzah took the invite of your pouty lips and closed the distance for you.
Unable to contain the years of built up desire, you kiss him back. Hard.
He almost stumbles forward as you pull his hoodie closer to you. He smirks into the kiss at your eagerness and you swear that simple action could make you drop to your knees if he wasn’t holding your waist.
His fingers were digging into the fabric of your t-shirt, basically molding into your waist. It’s like you skipped the slow-getting-hotter part of the kiss and immediately skipped to fully making out.
Hamzah licked the inside of your mouth, making you release a quiet mewl from the back of your throat.
He parted from your lips, barely. Just enough distance to catch your breath before he dove back in. It was almost feral, the way he moved from your lips to your cheek to your jaw. He grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you up. Your immediate reaction was to wrap your legs around him and hold him as close as possible.
Right now, being chest-to-chest, literally holding one another wasn’t close enough.
He slowly carried you back to the couch while making small licks and bites along your throat.
He placed you on the couch and immediately followed, covering your body with his.
“Y/n…” He spoke your name with a deep rumble, into your shoulder before kissing your pulse under your jaw.
You unlatched your lips to take off his glasses and setting them beside you. You would have loved for him to keep them on but you could tell how annoyed he was getting with them when he tried to kiss you.
He watched your movement carefully, and let a mental picture of how hot you looked under him.
When you came back to him, he immediately put his lips back to the spot on your neck that he figured out was the sweet spot where you made the most noise.
“Hamzah..” you answered, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up, signalling you want him to take it off.
“You sure?” He asked you, looking in your eyes for the first time since you started kissing. He took note of your red cheeks and matching swollen lips. He was so absolutely obsessed with you.
“Hamzah, If you couldn’t tell, I also have feelings for you and want you to go back to kissing me.” You teased him. “Without your shirt though” you smiled innocently and pulled his shirt up to reveal his chest.
“Such a smartass.” He smiled and pulled his shirt completely off and discarded it somewhere behind you. He was still smiling as he reconnected your lips, and the feel of his grin in your kiss made you smile as well.
The whole thing was unreal.
You felt so…happy in the moment, like nothing could compare. Like this is all you’d ever wanted and needed.
He slowly lifted the hem of your shirt as well, exposing your soft skin and thin bra. He could see the peaks of your nipples poking through the fabric and the image made him want to kiss every part of you he’s never seen.
To be truthful, any sight of you made him want to kiss you like that, but specifically right now, his pulse was very prominent in the lower part of his body from the current view.
You sunk your teeth lightly into his lower lip, and he replied by kissing you harder. He couldn’t hold back his desire at one point, when you started letting out breathy moans into his mouth- he jerked his hips against yours. You really felt just how much he needed you just then. The small pressure from his growing erection against you made you throw your head back and grind along lift your hips to meet his.
He started slowly grinding into you until you were full on dry-humping each other.
If Hamzah felt like this with clothes on, you only wondered what he felt like-
Your thoughts were interrupted by Hamzah grabbing your ass, then moving his hands along the back of your thighs. He lifted them up so you could wrap them around his back.
He rutted faster against you, and you swear you could feel his full length against you now. Your panties were soaked at this point and the wet spot growing on the front of his grey sweats showed that you had the same effect on him.
He sighed into your ear, both arms now propped on each side of your head. “Fuck, i’m gonna come in my pants from you, gorgeous.”
You let out a soft whine at the pet name and dragged your nails down his back, undoubtedly leaving scars. “Then just come like this, Hamzah. Show me what I mean to you. Like you prosmised.”
Erotic noises escaped your lips from the insane friction. You arched and dragged your hands back up his back and into his soft curls, tugging lightly.
“God, why haven’t we done this before” Hamzah sounded pained as he whispered, shutting his eyes tight from the upcoming sensation.
“I have no fucking idea. We were both too much of pussies to admit anything.” You replied in between short breaths.
He chuckled, but basically choked on his laugh when you reached into his pants to properly feel him.
“Yeah,” He agreed, and kissed you roughly, smashing his lips into yours and making your teeth clash at times.
“Fuck I’m..” You started to warn him, but he already knew.
“Me, too.”
He shifted the smallest bit but for some reason his new position made the friction ten times stronger. Hamzah’s hard bulge was hitting the perfect spot that made your panties rub against your clit in a way that made you gasp.
“Holy shit Hamzah” you gasped and arched your back to meet his chest. He laid more of his weight on yours, feeling your nipples through your bra.
“wait before we…” He looked you in your eyes and silently asked to take your bra off by slowly pulling down a strap from your shoulder.
“take it off of me, Hamzah.”
He wasted no time and took off your bra, exposing the peaks of your nipples. He immediately moved a hand to play with your breasts, giving each of them attention. “God, you're beautiful. even better than I imagined.”
His words made you want more so you arched you back again, making him shut his eyes tight at the friction.
“Fuck, baby,” he said softly.
He kept one hand next to your head, where he held himself up and moved the other from your breast to rub you through your shorts. “Hamzah please..please touch me”
He slipped a teasing finger past the waistband of your shorts. But you were done with foreplay and just needed him. His hand went past your underwear, finally reaching where you needed him.
He tested it by swiping two fingers along your folds.
“so wet f’me, yeah?”
“yeah…please Hamzah.”
“don’t worry baby.” At the same time he spoke he sunk two of his fingers into you, curling them at the perfect speed, while using his thumb to rub your clit.
how he was so good at this, you had no idea.
You wanted to please him as well, but when you looked at his tent, a wet spot was already extremely prominent.
“hey,” he turned your focus to him.
“Just let go baby. I'll come with you. seeing you like this….having you like this is already getting me off so bad.” his strokes became faster and your breathing got harder.
Before you could release, he took his fingers away and replaced them with rough grinding of his hips again.
Seconds later a feeling so strong washed over your body, draining you and your mind. Hamzah came right after you. The connected spot between you was soaking and warm with both of your come leaking through your pants.
“Jesus, Y/n if thats what its like with clothes on I can't wait until-”
“Yeah.” You laughed short with your eyes closed at the familiar words- he practically said out loud what you’d been thinking the whole time. “Trust me, I'm suddenly very impatient to find that out.” You admitted with a smile and opened you eyes, looking at him through your lashes.
Fucked out and sweaty Hamzah was breathtaking. And now he was yours to admire, without any secret staring.
Hamzah kissed you softly, still with passion but not as feverish. He slowly moved you both into a sitting position before he stood up with you in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“What I said I would,” Is all he said. You were a bit confused until he spoke again.
“I'm gonna show you…” He kissed you long then finished his sentence. “I’m gonna show you i’ve imagined every fucking day.”
Your body grew immediately hot again.
“Alright. Show me.” You said quietly into his ear, nibbling it once as he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom. “But you might need to tell Martin your gonna film the video another day…”
He smiled big with his perfect teeth and shook his head with laughter.
He must be hallucinating because there’s no way he’s about to fuck the girl of his dreams.
.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.
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—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 ?)!(!;$:
depends on the day but leans more into a sub role and on the random chance hes feeling dominant its PLEASURE DOM CITY BABYYYYYY!!! call him a good boy and hes leaking all over your hand but call him sir and you're without a doubt cumming all over his face. some mornings he wakes up more clingy and itching for your gentle touch, other days he needs someone to put him in his place and then those special days where he needs to put you in YOUR place or just make you cum until you're crying.
"yes-oh fuck...just like that ple-" he covers his mouth with his right hand before he finishes his sentence. reluctantly you stop moving your hips against his and look down at him. he looks ruined. his breathing is rapid and the sweat makes his little blonde curls stick to his forehead. eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed together like he's praying.
he is praying. praying for you to let him cum. again.
"don't cover your mouth." you command.
he whines and throws his head back against the pillow.
you've been riding him for over an hour straight. half way through you collapsed on to his chest after your 3rd orgasm and his second, it looked like you tired yourself out so much you were knocked cold so he also started to doze off while softly running his hands along your hips and thighs.
a few moments later he suddenly felt you place your palms against his hard stomach to help lift yourself up straight. his eyes are hooded as he looks up at you, giving him the sweetest smile you can before lifting your hips so just his tip is inside of you.
you wait there for a second just admiring how handsome he looks under you, he smiles back up at you. you slam back down on to his cock in one quick movement, going straight into a good rhythm.
now here he is 45 minutes later, tears brimming at his eyes and hands gripping your waist begging you to keep moving. he will do anything to keep you bouncing on his cock no matter how spent he is.
-he’s VOCAL
sub hamzah; hamzah is a WHINERRRR. case closed. he whines all day all night. when things first start getting hot and heavy all hes letting out are heavy breaths and small groans but the moment he sinks into you oh it's so over like hes just a whiny hot mess and you live for it.
pleasure dom hamzah; king of talking you THROUGH IT. praise after praise just making you wetter and more in love. he still moans and groans but when he's got you on your nth orgasm of the night and youre crying big fat tears from the overstimulation, he starts whining and crying like he usually does but that bastards still gonna be in full control. the range this man has.
and him switching between the both would look like this:
"fuck, i'm s-sorry baby. too much s'all too much." he groans as his hands trail up to the sides of your waist. "do you want me to keep goin-" "yes. fuck yes please. pleaseee." his whines interrupt you mid question.
he is so desperate he uses his strength to his advantage and just starts to lift you up by your waist to slide you up and down his cock at his own set pace, he keeps this brutal pace going by planting his feet flat on the bed to be able to reach that special little spot you know only he can reach.
"so beautiful, oh my god you are so beautiful, sweetheart."
uh-oh.
he only calls you sweetheart when he's pussy-drunk, and when hamzah's pussy-drunk you know you're not in control of your own pleasure anymore.
"you're so tight, fuck does it feel good? i just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart." he moans out. without stopping his movements he grabs your hands and places them on his shoulder, he then leads your face to his and you fall into a messy kiss with moans and whimpers falling into each others mouths.
hamzah's hands move back to your waist to keep you still against his cock. you whine loudly in protest. "be a good boy and fuck me. fuck me hard." you say in a breathy whisper against his lips.
mimicking your earlier move his hands grip your waist before sliding you up his cock so that just his tip is splitting you open. he smiles up at you sweetly before fucking up into you at a merciless pace.
-hes a a giver hunny
hamzah will eat it, spank it, spit on it and kiss it better before he realizes he hasn't even taken his boxers off yet. sub and dom hamzah will always prioritize your pleasure over anything else, if u want to ride his face till the sun comes up then by all means please take a seat. say you had a bad day and need to be fucked dumb then please contact your go to big boy and he will humbly accept your request.
you pathetically squeak every time his cock bottoms out, your hands grip on to his broad shoulders for dear life while he just keeps babbling out more non-sense than you.
"fuck you feel like h-heaven, sweetheart. just keep arching for me-" his lips are right against your cheek as he kisses the praises right into your temple.
"fuuuuck, right fucking there. i'm right here, aren't i sweetheart?" one of his hands presses into your belly where you can feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix. it hurts so good.
his other hand takes the pillow he's laying on and slams it on to the bed next to you and before you can register it he has you both flipped over, you feel the pillow under your lower back as he adjusts himself between your legs.
his arms slide under your legs and he lifts them over his hips as he sits up on his knees, his cock still deep in your stomach. he presses a sweet kiss to your lips before fucking straight into that gummy spot that has you dumb on his cock.
a whimper tears itself from your throat each time the back of your thighs slam against his pelvis. he's starring down at where you're connected and moans at how pretty you look wrapped around him.
"i want you to cum for me. please cum all over my cock. please, sweetheart. ohmygodohmygod keep doing that, fuck babyyy" his praises have you tightening around him which leaves him a whimpering mess.
his thumb presses against your clit, your hand grabs his wrist to stop him.
"i dont wanna make a mess." you say in between sobs.
"i want you to make a mess." he commands while his eyes are glued to the sight of his thumb rubbing against your sensitive bud. his pace doesn't let up, he wants you to feel how much he loves you. he wants you to cream around his cock.
your eyelashes fan those pretty little tears of yours across the apples of your cheeks as he moves his head down closer to yours to capture your lips in another messy kiss. his tongue is moving against yours with his hands moving to your back to arch you off the bed, this angle has your hands pulling at his curls and crying his name out in a way that sends chills down his spine.
"im so close. so fucking close. wan' u to cum with me, sweetheart." he pleads against your lips, you start nodding your head rapidly but that's not the answer he wants. he moves lips to ghost over the shell of your ear. he wants to make sure he gets the answer he needs.
"c'mon sweetie, be a good girl for me and make a mess on my cock." his voice is so low and sexy and you could cum to just that but...he still knows his place.
"nghh please, sweetie." he pathetically chokes out.
that last plea that leaves his gorgeous lips pushes you over the edge, hamzah's cock spilling his hot seed inside of you with a broken moan of your name. your pussy making a big creamy mess around the base of his cock.
his hips slow their pace before he stills and collapses on top of you, still inside.
"horny freak." he mumbles into the crook of your neck.
"sorry. i saw an edit of you."
thank u for reading. it's 2am. gonna take a cold shower now.
Don't get high with Hamzah. He will strip you naked.
+ fwb!hamzah x reader, smoking weed, drinking, making out
“Y/N why is this couch shaped like a L but feels like a circle?”Martin laughs as he sits across two pillows, a beer in one hand and his socks half-off.
Hamzah breathes from the opposite end, a vape pen attached to his fingertips. “That's how you know it's a good living room. Everyone ends up touching their knees, no matter they like it or not.”
You laughed, sitting crossed legs on the floor, back against the couch, sipping just juice with a splash of vodka. Claire texting between sips of her drink. Mandy is next to her, wrapped up with Martin like a cat.
And of course, Chase is in the kitchen arguing with the air fryer.
“I'm still laughing about what Hamzah and I did few days ago,” Martin says, chuckling.
Mandy answers. “What happened?.”
Hamzah just sighs, eyes low. He already knows where this is going.
Martin jabs a finger toward him. “All I gotta say is, Don't get high with Hamzah. He will strip you naked.”
Everyone laughs.
Even Claire drops her phone. “I knew something happened!”
“Bro you're making it sound weird,” Hamzah says, without even denying it.
“It's not my fault people like Martin can't handle my aura.”
You keep your face blank. Sips your drink.
You shouldn't be thinking on what happened that night. Or every other night. Or the times it didn’t even need weed. Just one look, a single touch of his hand when no one was looking.
Martin’s still talking. Something about how he ended up in just his boxers watching Love Island with Mandy at 2am. Everyone’s laughing.
Except you.
And Hamzah.
You felt his eyes on you–quick, tense, and gone like it had never happened.
You knew it too well. The kind of knowing that burned under skin and behind closed doors.
⏭️
Everyone's about to leave. Claire and Mandy saying their goodbyes to the cats. Martin drags Chase out of the kitchen, still mid-rant about his overcooked fries. Hamzah stayed like he's just the helpful friend staying to clean up.
Which he is...... kind of.
Hamzah throws a pillow back onto the couch and kicks his feet up as if the party had never stopped.
“Wanna see something crazy?” he says.
You raise a brow. “If that's some stupid shit Hamzah, You're leaving.”
He smiled, reaching something on his pocket and pulling out a half-used joint in a crusty Altoids tin. "Look what Martin and I didn't finish."
You laugh. “So you just have it with you the whole time and didn't say anything?.”
“But I wanted to smoke with you,” he says, “so let's finish it.”
You roll your eyes, but take a hit when he hands it to you. The smoke is nice and warm, quickly taking into your body. He's already leaning back and exhaling like if it's some kind of spiritual experience.
“You really stripped that man on 4/20?” you ask, laughing.
Hamzah chuckles. “He said he was hot. I said prove it."
“Dumbass.”
He smiles at you, lazy. “You scared I’ll try it on you?”
You start to cough a little. "I am not scared. You'd have to earn it."
“Oh word?” he says, puts down the joint into a nearby cup.
And then he moves closer.
Not too much. Just enough, his leg brushing yours, his hand ghosting along your collarbone, every movement tight with the things he couldn’t say. He craved you, and it was killing him to pretend he didn’t.
“Prove it,” you say.
He leans in slowly, as if everything is still a joke. But when his lips meet yours warm and slow—it feels like a stab to your chest.
The kiss starts soft.
It doesn't stay that way.
Your legs twitch. His hand slips gently to your waist. You pull off his hoodie, and he smiles gently against your mouth.
“Still not scared?” he murmurs, lips brushing your mandible.
“Shut up,” you responded back, grabbing him again.
His hoodie slips off. Yours comes next. Nothing special. You already know how this works. He throws your shirt off. The tips of his fingers trace the border of your waistband
The smoke still swirls in the air. Everything still smells like weed, perfume, and snacks.
His mouth meets yours again. Impatient. A bit familiar.
This is how it has always been–hot, hungry, and temporary.
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.
