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can you something with like roomate!hamzah or something like that like reader and hamzah have been roomates for a while but neither of them are brave enough to speak of their feelings
warnings : tension, no smut (sorry), clairo inspired
you standing side by side with hamzah in the tiny bathroom, sharing the same mirror, the same fluorescent light that makes every pore visible.
he’s in a well-loved and worn t shirt paired with comfy sweats, toothbrush lazily hanging from his mouth as he looks through the drawers for his mouthwash.
this is the routine.
just you and him, silence. random creaks from the old flooring of your apartment.
his arm bumps your slightly, not hard at all but hard enough to knock you out of your thoughts and glance up.
he catches your eyes in the mirror and grins with his mouth full of toothpaste.
you try not to smile back.
you fail and softly match his grin.
“movie?” he asks once you’ve both finished up and he’s toweling off his face.
you nod, too tired to offer anything else.
it’s always like this. late nights that turn into even later nights. you say you’re going to bed early and then suddenly you’re on the couch under a shared blanket watching something stupid and letting the tv sounds fill your living room.
you don’t even know when it started.
you don’t know how it got this far.
all you know is that when you sit down beside him, your knee touches his and he doesn’t move.
and neither do you.
the apartment is quiet except for the movie and the low buzz of the fridge.
hamzah’s hair is still slightly damp from his shower, he smells like your expensive lavender bodywash.
you should be annoyed. you’re not.
he laughs at something on screen and you look at him instead of the movie.
you don’t realize until it’s too late. until he glances back and catches you looking.
he raises an eyebrow.
you shake your head. look away. pull the blanket tighter around you.
“what?”
“nothing.” you murmur.
“liar.”
you don’t answer.
but he doesn’t push either.
twenty minutes later, you’ve forgotten what movie you’re even watching, your thoughts eating you alive.
hamzah shifts beside you, and suddenly he’s closer. shoulder to shoulder. knee to thigh. the blanket now shared fully. your heart doing something weird.
you breathe in.
you don’t know how he does it. how he always makes it feel like nothing’s changed when everything has.
you were supposed to be roommates. just roommates. just cheap rent and split groceries and sharing toothpaste because it was easier.
but then there were late night takeout runs and blanket stealing and sleepy “good mornings” with his voice still raspy. there were all the times you took care of eachother when one was hungover.
it doesn’t feel like roommates anymore.
you just don’t know what it feels like.
the movie ends. he doesn’t move. neither do you. the credits roll. he glances over at you.
“you ‘kay?”
you nod, even though your chest feels too full.
you wish you could ask.
wish you could say something like, “do you think about me too?” “do you know how often i almost say it?”
but you don’t.
instead, you say, “i might move out.”
his whole body stills.
you weren’t supposed to say that.
“what?”
you chew on your lip. “i don’t know. just thinking about it as an option.”
“why?”
you shrug in response. “maybe it’s time.”
he looks at you. really looks at you, as if he's trying to read through your thoughts.
“did i do something?”
“no.”
“well.. did someone say something?”
“no.”
he’s quiet for a second. “then what is it?”
you can’t answer that without breaking.
so you lie.
“i just think it’s been a while. maybe we need space.” you say with a short swallow.
his jaw tightens and you see his brow ever so slightly raise. but he doesn’t say anything right away.
and then, quietly, and bluntly answers.
“well if you want to leave, i can’t stop you.”
you nod, even though it hurts more than you thought it would.
neither of you speak for the rest of the night.
when he gets up to go to bed, he doesn’t say goodnight. you're just left to stare at the blank tv screen for a long time after he’s gone.
for the next week, you don’t avoid him on purpose.
not really anyways. you still answer when he talks to you, still sit next to him on the couch when there’s nowhere else to go. you still pass him the cereal when he reaches for it in the mornings and still let your fingers brush when he hands you the remote.
you’re not avoiding him. you’re just pulling back. quieting down. watching the way he moves through the apartment like you're preparing yourself for the fact that you won’t be here much longer.
you’re not sure if he notices. you think he might. he’s too observant not to. but he doesn’t bring it up, and you don’t either.
instead, you both live in this weird in-between, where nothing is wrong, but nothing feels right in your friendship anymore.
it’s like something cracked open after that night. or maybe it’s just been slowly splitting for a while, and now you can’t pretend it’s not.
either way, you feel it. and you think he does too.
you spend most of thursday in your room. your excuse is that you’re tired. too much work, too much thinking, not enough sleep. but the truth is, you just don’t trust yourself to be around him right now.
not when everything you haven’t said is pressing against your teeth and is slowly destroying you.
by the time you do emerge, it’s past 11 pm and the apartment is quiet. you go through the motions without thinking. grab your toothbrush, wash your face, flick the bathroom light on with your elbow.
you’re halfway through brushing your teeth when you hear him coming down the hallway.
you don’t expect him to stop at the door. or to knock once, gently, like he’s asking permission.
when you glance over, he’s leaning in the doorway, holding his own toothbrush and a lazy kind of smile.
“mind if i join?”
you shrug.
he steps in, stands beside you, and for a second it’s like nothing’s changed. like you’re just two roommates brushing your teeth in the cramped little bathroom you’ve shared for over a year now.
but it feels like it has changed.
his sleeve brushes yours when he shifts. your eyes meet in the mirror. you both look away.
he breaks the silence first, his voice soft around toothpaste. “you’ve been quiet lately.”
you spit into the sink, take your time rinsing.
“just tired.”
he hums like he doesn’t quite buy it, but doesn’t push.
you expect him to leave once you’re done, but he stays. brushes slowly. runs the water too long. maybe trying to stretch the moment out.
maybe not.
either way, you towel off your face and slip past him without another word.
the next morning, you’re both in the kitchen at the same time. it’s early, still kind of grey outside. you’re making tea. he’s pouring cereal into a chipped bowl, yawning like he didn’t sleep well.
you’re half-listening to the kettle, trying to keep your hands steady, when he speaks again.
his voice is quiet. almost careful.
“do you ever.. feel like things are different now?”
you pause.
then, cluelessly reply “different how?”
he shrugs, leans his hip against the counter, spoon hanging loose in one hand.
“i don’t know. not in a bad way. just… not like when we first moved in together”
you nod, even though you’re not sure he’s looking.
“yeah i guess. sometimes.” you casually reply, but all you want to do is scream confessions at the top of your lungs.
the kettle clicks off and neither of you move to grab it.
he exhales, almost like he’s about to say something else. and maybe he is. but instead, he asks something that catches you off guard.
“what if you stayed?”
you turn to look at him, the question hanging in the space between you.
“what?”
his eyes are soft, unreadable.
“just… what if you didn’t move out?”
your chest tightens.
“why?”
he hesitates. shrugs. looks down into his cereal.
“we’re good roommates.”
the words hit harder than they should. because you know you are. you always have been, and you always will be,
just roommates.
but that’s not why you’ve been losing sleep over him. that’s not what all of this has been building toward.
you force a small nod and a smile.
“i’ll think about it.”
it’s a lie, and you think he knows that.
he doesn’t say anything else.
you pour your tea, fingers trembling, and walk out of the kitchen without looking back.
you spend the afternoon folding laundry that you don’t remember putting in the machine.
your hands move on autopilot, smoothing fabric, lining up seams, trying to keep yourself distracted. at some point, one of his shirts ends up in the pile , the grey one you always steal, the one that’s a little too big on you and smells like whatever detergent he uses mixed with something that’s just... him.
you hold it for too long. your fingers bunch the collar, then smooth it out again.
then you fold it neatly and place it on top of the stack like it doesn’t mean anything.
like it’s not the closest thing you’ve held to him in days.
that night, it rains.
you’re curled up on the couch, blanket tucked around your legs, the tv playing something you’re not watching. the sound of the rain fills the room in waves. soft. constant. calming, if not for the static inside your chest.
you don’t hear him come in right away.
just the click of the door. the shuffle of wet shoes.
you look over with a confused frown while he’s standing there, soaked through, hair dripping onto his hoodie.
“forgot my umbrella,” he mutters, pushing the door shut behind him.
you toss him a towel without saying anything.
he catches it and scrubs at his hair, then peels the hoodie off and tosses it onto the counter.
he’s still shivering when he walks over.
“what are we watching?”
you shrug.
“can i sit?”
you nod softly, shifting just enough for him to drop beside you.
the couch dips under his weight. your legs brush.
neither of you move away.
you don’t know how long you sit like that. listening to the rain. not really paying attention to the movie. just existing in the same space. not touching, but close enough to want to.
eventually, he speaks.
“do you remember our first night here?”
you smile, just barely.
“you burned the frozen pizza.”
“you blamed it on me.”
“because it was your fault.”
he laughs quietly.
“yeah. maybe it was.”
you both fall quiet again.
then, softer, “i miss that night. i think about it a lot”
you don’t mean to, but your heart squeezes.
because it did feel easy. back when you didn’t know what this would turn into. before everything started meaning too much.
“me too,” you whisper.
you don’t look at him. and he doesn’t look at you.
but you think you both feel it.
whatever this is.
whatever it’s becoming.
you don’t fall asleep on the couch that night, but you pretend to.
and when he drapes the blanket over you and walks away, you almost call out to him.
almost.
but you don’t.
not yet.
you don’t talk much the next day again.
still though, it’s not like you’re avoiding each other. you just move quieter and softer.
you’re both aware something’s shifted and neither of you wants to tip it too far.
you’ve been lying in bed for over an hour, the lamp still on beside you, your laptop open to a blank google doc you haven’t touched. your chest’s been feeling tight all day, not quite anxious, but not settled either.
he slowly knocks on the door of your bedroom with his fist.
you sit up when you hear the knock.
“yeah?”
he cracks the door open, just enough to poke his head in. his hoodie’s a little wrinkled. his hair’s messy. he looks like he hasn’t slept.
“can we talk?”
you nod, too fast. “yeah.”
he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.
the room goes quiet again.
he doesn’t sit at first. just stands there, eyes flicking around like he’s stalling.
you shift a little on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest.
“eveything 'kay?” you ask, just above a whisper.
he breathes out slowly, nodding once before answering.
“i don’t want you to move out.” he bluntly lets out.
you blink.
your stomach flips, and not in a subtle way.
he finally sits, down on the edge of your bed, his hands clasped together between his knees. he doesn’t look at you yet, just down at the floor like the words are still forming.
“i don’t know what changed. i just know it’s been different for a while now. and i’ve been trying not to ruin it by saying something. but i feel like i already ruined it by not saying anything at all.” he rants.
your heart is pounding so hard it’s dizzying.
“you didn’t ruin anything,” you say, voice shaking.
he glances up. meets your eyes. “then why were you gonna leave?”
you swallow. look down.
“because i didn’t know if you felt it too,” you say softly. “and staying here, pretending like i wasn’t completely out of my mind and in love with you, was getting harder every day.” you spit out,
the silence hits all at once.
you don’t mean to say it like that. not that raw. not that direct. but it’s out now, your words floating between you and hamzah, and you can’t take it back.
his eyes are wide. lips slightly parted. like he’s frozen mid-thought.
you let out a shaky breath.
“holy shit- i'm so sorry,” you mutter. “i didn’t mean to-”
“you’re in love with me?”
your chest caves in a little.
but you nod anyway.
“yeah.”
for a moment, you think he might not say anything at all, and just leave and never talk to you again.
but then he moves.
closer.
slowly.
his voice drops lower than you’ve ever heard it before.
“i’ve been in love with you since the night we split a bottle of wine on the kitchen floor and you made me laugh so hard i cried.”
you blink.
“you remember that?”
“i remember everything.”
your heart is fully gone at this point.
he’s closer now, knee pressed against yours, gaze never leaving your face.
“can i kiss you?” he asks, barely above a whisper.
you nod, instantly, breath catching.
“please.”
and then he does.
it’s slow. careful. not hesitant, just deliberate, like he wants to remember every second of it.
his hand cradles your jaw, fingers feather-light, and your lips slot together like they’ve been trying to find their way back for years.
you melt into it without thinking. one hand gripped onto his hair, the other pressed to his chest where his heart is hammering just like yours.
when he pulls back, barely an inch away, his forehead rests against yours.
“so,” he murmurs, “does this mean you’re staying?”
you laugh, breathless.
“yeah,” you whisper. “i’m stuck”
he grins. presses another kiss to your mouth, quicker this time, more certain.
you fall asleep that night curled into him, limbs tangled, hearts finally quiet.
and this time, when he says goodnight, it’s whispered against your hair with a smile.
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´when every chronically online persons two worlds collide - collab stream´
the stream starts like most slushynoobz chaos: martin in the middle of an unhinged monologue and hamzah pretending he doesn’t know either of you.
“hello stream,” martin says, already waving the camera around like it’s a documentary film, “today is a milestone. maybe even a moment in history. she’s here. not a discord bubble. not a voice on a headset. god is a woman and she is real.”
you’re already seated, sipping something cold, perfectly unbothered. you offer the camera an enthusiastic grin to match martins energy back to him.
“you’re doing a lot, too much” you say.
“it’s deserved,” martin replies, shaking his head and taking a bow to you and all your apparent glory.
“you have no idea how long chat’s been waiting for this.”
“i’m literally just here to play mario party.”
“sure,” he says. “sure you are.”
"what does that even mean?" you laugh off to the side,
hamzah mutters, “okay, stream peaked. turn it off.”
you glance over with an eyebrow raise. “well hello to you too.”
“i said hi earlier.”
“saying ‘yo’ while staring at your phone doesn’t count.” you fight back, slightly joking but also not, confused by hamzahs genuine attitude,
“so you wanna argue, or play the game?” he snaps instantly.
he hasn’t looked at you once since you sat down, which would maybe mean something if he didn’t rearrange the entire living room setup this morning to make sure you had the “comfiest spot.” (his words. muttered. while looking at the floor.)
martin’s already mugging for the camera. twitch chat is a wall of chaos.
chat:
“LMAO HAMZAH CANNOTTTTT MAKE EYE CONTACT”“he’s so weird rn i love it”“the way she’s just chill about it tho?? queen”"girl is he bothering you?"
the game boots up. martin claims he’s choosing teams at random, but somehow you end up seated between them. naturally. you don’t mind. the energy’s easy, and you’ve streamed with them enough to know the rhythm by heart.:
martin’s ongoing commentary, hamzah’s casual insults, the chat’s perpetual meltdown. it’s a specific dynamic. it works.
but in person, it’s a little different. realer. better.
especially when hamzah keeps doing things like passing you the exact brand of drink you mentioned offhand, mid conversation once, months ago.
you take it without making a big deal out of it. “you remembered this?”
he shrugs. “you talk a lot.”
“so do you. and i don’t remember your favorite drink.” you tilt your head with a chuckle.
“mine’s easier.” he replies in monotone.
“is it?”
he doesn’t reply, which is fine. martin is already throwing a look at the camera, as if he’s saying "did you see that too?"
chat:“the way he puts on this whole non chalant persona just to ruin it by specifically buying her favorite brand of mf WATER.”“this is literally a romcom but he thinks he’s the cool one lmao”“chat never forgets”
you’re winning. casually. just enough to keep the banter alive. hamzah’s competitive, but quietly. not trash-talking you loud like martin, just relentless.
but today, he keeps getting distracte, missing easy jumps, second guessing timing, adjusting his headset even though it’s completely fine and basically glued onto his head.
at one point of the stream, you flinch at an unexpected pop up in the game, more from the sound than anything on the actual screen. but before you can even register it, there’s a hand on your shoulder.
his.
just briefly. like muscle memory. like he forgot the context and thought he was alone. it’s gone in a second.
you turn your head toward him, then regretting it, thinking maybe you should've pretended to ignore it.
he doesn’t look back, just feels you turn.. “you jumped.”
“you put your hand me.” you recall.
“reflex.” he snaps
“it’s mario party.”
“you flinched.”
you lean back slightly, amused with a chuckle. “you good?”
“great,” he says, shrugging his shoulder as if he didn't just act obnoxious and slightly out of character.
martin actually pauses the game. “nah. pause. run that back. did anyone else see that?”
chat definitely saw it.
chat:
“I have some innapropriate things to say about protective hamzah.”
“hamzah’s version of ‘reflex’ is concerningly soft”
“blink twice if you’re repressing and ignoring feelings bro”
the game resumes. martin is doing everything short of narrating your interactions like a national geographic special. chat’s theories have just multiplied after this stream, and martins livestream call-out.
you just keep playing. you’re used to hamzah being.. a little strange. not like this, but the general branding of it.
later, somewhere between rounds, martin throws a look between the two of you and goes, “so… is this how it’s gonna be the whole stream, or are we atleast try to acknowledging what’s happening?”
“what’s happening,” you echo, straight-faced, as you roll your lips into your mouth.
hamzah just shakes his head, doesn’t even pretend to be subtle.
“so nothing’s happening?” martin reverts.
“exactly,” both you and hamzah say in sync, bluntly.
it’s almost impressive, the perfect harmony, with the energy of two people who have absolutely talked for seven hours straight at 2 a.m playing video games. and will absolutely decide to never to talk about those seven hours again.
martin leans forward, hands clasped like a therapist about to ask a life-ruining question. “you guys practiced that or…”
you and hamzah say “no” at the exact same time.
chat:
“THEY’RE LIKE THE SAME PERSON IT’S CREEPY”
“hamzah’s whole persona with her is ‘i don’t care’ while deeply caring”
“she’s just chilling and he’s melting down quietly”
the rest of the stream runs like that- tense in a way no one will admit to, but it makes the air feel thicker by the second,
hamzah’s less dismissive now, but not less present. he keeps glancing your way and catching himself. every time you laugh, chat lights up. every time he says something under his breath and you catch it, chat goes even more nuclear.
the cameras eventually go off. the room is quieter without the lights.
you stretch, unplug your mic, and glance down at hamzah, who’s still fiddling with his controller like it didn’t glitch out an hour ago.
“fun stream,” you say, casually.
he nods. “yeah.”
his foot taps yours as you walk past. not hard. not even on purpose, probably.
but you feel it.
you don’t say anything.
he doesn’t either.
but you’re both thinking the same thing:
this is definitely not going to blow over quietly.
and chat? chat’s already writing the sequel in the comments, you both are sure going to have a joyful time explaining yourselves to twitter later.
view request here
idk how to feel about this, will probs be edited tomorrow!! it honestly may be tooooo angsty and not enough fluff so it kinda gets me mad..
perhaps something along the lines of idk irl first meet up stream with slushynoobz. a little fluff here maybe some banter that is thrown around but nothing forceful in a lovey dovey idk i don’t even think that makes sense. maybe hamzah could see uninterested in reader in a way that chat and martin sees as something else and it becomes an on going thing as stream goes on. IDK IM DESPERATE K THAN KS BYES
update : posted here
HELLO I LOVE THIS??&&?&? hopefully i can get this out by tomorrow- i will prioritise this request bc of personal preference and i’d love to write something where its not just an infatuated bf!hamzah.
for this im picturing like an awkward, angsty dynamic between hamzah & reader.
SIDE NOTE: as much as i love hamzah texts i fear our community is too focused on them so i will be prioritising imagine/oneshot requests over online hamzah texts!!! but no matter what keep sending them all in and they’ll get done eventually🤍💌🤍🤍💌💌💌🤍
hi guys.. missed me? i’ve taken a few days off because im currently dying sick and just have not been in the mindspace to write bc my immune system is just killing me rn. pls give me a couple days and i’ll be back with many oneshots and messages!! feel free to send requests in- i will gradually get them done soon 🤍🤍
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you’re lying on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling through tiktok while hamzah sits beside you, his eyes half-focused on his own screen. it’s just one of those perfect, simple days where nothing urgent needs doing and the whole world feels quiet except for the soft hum of your boyfriends breathing and the occasional sound of his fingers tapping on his phone.
he’s got his airpods in, but you can tell he’s still paying attention to you- his eyes darting over every now and then, probably wondering what you’re up to. you glance over at him, feeling a little smile tug at your lips. then, out of nowhere, you spot the new trend on tiktok- people filming themselves calling their boyfriend “current boyfriend” and filming their reaction. you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself, imagining hamzah’s awkward reaction.
“wait, i haven’t posted on tiktok in ages, i’m gonna make a quick one,” you say, sitting up a bit and pulling your phone closer. hamzah looks at you with that eyebrow raise that always means he’s suspicious or just mildly impressed.
“you serious?” he asks, pausing his scrolling to look fully at you.
“yeah,” you say, grinning. “just a quick one. i promise.”
he shrugs but there’s amusement in his eyes. “alright, well what’ll you film?”
you flip the camera so it’s facing you both, making sure to catch his reaction too. you hit record and flash a playful smile at the screen.
“hey guys! the entire day i’ve just been hanging out with my current boyfriend- ” hamzah immediately shoots you a sideways glance, blinking like you just said something confusing. current? his expression says it all. but he doesn’t say anything, just quirks an eyebrow at you.
you keep going like it’s nothing. “we’re about to get some food, and my current boyfriend, hamzah said he’d drive, so you ready?” you turn to face him.
hamzah chuckles softly, shaking his head like he can’t believe you’re really doing this. “why do you keep saying that?”
you glance at him, eyes still on the screen, pretending not to hear. “saying what?”
he leans a little closer, voice dropping like he’s about to share a secret. “you know exactly what you’re doing.” he tilts his head too.
you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “honestly, i don’t.”
his eyes narrow playfully. “nah, girl don’t be messing with me. you’re way too calm. this has gotta be a trap.”
you shrug, still filming. “all i said was i’m hanging out with my boyfriend. why make it weird?”
he blinks, clearly trying to figure you out. “no, no you didn’t. you said current boyfriend — like, three times already.”
you put on a confused grin and wave a hand toward the camera. “okay guys, so anyways—” you act like you’re moving on, brushing him off.
“wait, what? come back!” hamzah protests, laughing, and waving a hand infront of your face to look at him.
you flash a bigger smile. “what? i don’t know what you mean.”
he groans dramatically, clutching his chest like you just stabbed him with words. “you’re killing me slowly, you know that?”
you finally stop recording and set your phone down with a loud laugh, not being able to hold it in at your boyfriends hopeless expression. the room feels lighter, charged with this playful tension between you two.
he grabs a pillow and tosses it at you lightly. “go ahead. call me current one more time.”
you catch it, grinning “i still don’t know what’s so bad about me saying that if you’re currently my boyfriend” you say, teasing and seeing how far you can push it.
“nah,i’m not doing this bullshit right now” he laughs, lounging back like he’s unbothered. “you still hungry? we can actually go get food, current girlfriend.” he teases, and leaves a soft kiss on your head.
the end
not proof read!! i wanted to get something out for you guys tonight though, so i will make changes tomorrow if necessary 💌
lessi released ‘same mouth’ today, so who would like a hamzah oneshot based on my fav lyric “you fuck me good all night, but i know its gonna end it tears” 😇😇😇😇
