hamzah has been thinking about her and y/n has never been kissed by someone who likes her this much
01. 02. 03.
“hello?” you question with your eyebrows pinched, as you hold open the entry door for hamzah. he immediately welcomes himself inside to avoid the large pebbles of rain falling around him and soaking him entirely.
“uh, hey,” he’s slightly out of breath as he pulls his hood from his head, showing off his familiar, sunkissed face and bold, curly hair, “power went out at my place, so i, uh, called leo askin’ to hang out here until it’s fixed up.” he lifts a small leather messenger bag, with plenty of his belongings protruding out awkwardly, in his hand to give you a visual of just how spontaneous and unplanned this is, “is that … okay with you?”
you hadn’t realized how still your body was until he asked for your assurance, “um, yeah. yes, of course that’s okay with me. i’m sorry your power’s gone out.” you close the door, cutting off the noisy rain and distant thunder. you move closer to his figure, watching him attempt to toe out of his slick sneakers, “here let me hold this,” you grab the heavy bag from his hand.
“thanks,” he says in a sort of relieved mumble-groan, before he proceeds to remove his uncomfortable hoodie, pulling it up and over his head in one motion — giving you quick but generous peek at his soft abdomen; if it was at all appropriate you’d run your fingers over the skin, draw circles and see how his face reacts to the feeling.
“gross,” he mumbles in disappointment before hanging the heavy, wet fabric on a fairly empty coat rack in your foyer. it didn’t take long for him to return to you, grabbing his bag of things from your hand and giving a small squeeze to your shoulder, “thanks again, s’nice seein’ you,” he offers you another one of his genuine smiles that continue to make you melt a little, before he’s gone, furthering into your home in search of your brother.
── .✦
you feel like you’re suffering in your own home; knowing hamzah is just down the hall from you, probably playing video games with leo and few of his other friends, probably talking about their opinions on girls or some new gym technique. it’s driving you mad that you can’t sneak in there and sit close to him while picking his brain; you'd ask him how to play whatever shooter game he's expertly navigating and eventually whisper in his ear a soft invitation to your room for more help with stretching.
and you’ve really tried to distract yourself. it’s not your fault hamzah’s presence is so damn intense. you’ve repainted your nails, stretched your compliant body in the most odd ways for fun, read chapters of your old favorite books, you even cut up magazines and glued bits into a journal to create entirely new messages.
but now you were completely bored, and it was only 9 pm.
you blow out the lavender scented three wicked candle on your vanity while calling up a friend from school, tasha — whom you once roomed with before you both realized you were much better friends when you weren’t sleeping three feet away from each other. “hey tash, what’re you up to?”
“mm’nothing much, i’m snuggled up in bed already. what’s up?” her feminine voice rings even through the big yawn she gives mid sentence.
you let out a sigh, “shit. i should’ve known you’d be all sleepy,” you stare at yourself in the mirror, admiring your figure and the way your perfectly tacky crushed orange track suit hugs every bit of you. “sorry, for disturbing any peace.” you watch your hand feel over your exposed midriff, wondering what hamzah’s hands would feel like, petting and gripping your skin.
“you’re okay, i’d wake up at two a.m. to answer a call from you.” she assures, “how’s your break been?”
you sigh again, allowing your lips to flutter, “pretty good. i, uh, found a guy i’m, like,” you turn in the mirror checking out your lower body over your shoulder, “.. just a little obsessed with. he’s a cutie but it’s a shame he’s friends with my gross, meathead brother.”
you can hear tasha move to sit up, “no way! i thought you’d be bragging t’me about how much free time you have now that dance is on the back burner — but a man? wow! i thought you said you were done with meaningless crushes?”
you can’t help that your limbs easily go weak and you have some sort of mating instinct that makes you want to pounce on any guy who slightly raises your body’s temperature. “yeah, but y’know that was after zander kissed that other girl right in front of me — almost a year ago … and hamzah’s way different …” you trail off, getting a little flushed just mentioning his name.
“ouh, a name drop!” she exclaims.
you laugh to yourself, “i had to, he’s driving me crazy.”
“they all manage t’drive you crazy, y/n. and, speaking of, let me tell you what ryan’s stupid ass did today …”
your eyes widen and you groan, “i’m sure after you explain i’ll be telling you to just break up with him, but i’m still interested, so proceed with the story.”
── .✦
hamzah hasn’t felt such a curious infatuation for a girl until you. he’s narrowed it down to your crazy amount of confidence and transparency. it’s like he knows so little about you but if he’d just ask you’d pour your heart and soul to him. and that sounds ridiculous and way too fast but as a self-proclaimed loner, fast and to the point is exactly what he needs.
maybe he hasn’t kept a girlfriend because the expectation of a slow, monotonous pace felt like a drag. felt too easy to abandon. or maybe it was his fault for locking himself in his studio apartment (to focus on his coding degree) leading him to just kinda … stop answering their calls. like a huge dick.
there’s been recent times that he gets to feeling guilty when he remembers his close association with leo — who he’d only become friends with this year, after he finally felt the need to be social again. leo complained about you and your sister equally but he held his harshest lashings for you, for some reason. it’s hard for him to imagine because you seem extremely lovable and it’s not like you were around to piss him off anyway, but hamzah’s started to realize the more successful a woman is, the more leo just fucking hates their guts.
he often redirects any negativity leo may ooze with suggestions of grabbing food or starting a new round of the board or video game they’re playing — but now that he’s actually met you, it’s hard for him to tolerate any belittling he may spew.
“oh look who it is!” leo teases when you walk into the large, recreational room: with bookshelves covering the walls, your dad’s collection of cd racks stacked up high, a foosball table in the middle of everything, and a big plump couch facing the widescreen television. hamzah immediately cranes his neck in search of you.
you ignore leo’s obnoxious voice, continuing to speak into your phone as you walk around the room, opening and closing drawers, and trying to avoid the mess of littered plastic bottles or chip crumbs, “ever heard of a vacuum? this place is a mess, lee.”
“y/n, fuck outta here! can’t you see we’re doin’ somethin’?” he yells before nudging another friend of his, lance, who’s paused their game just to ogle at you desperately, “start the game! come on, man. that’s my sister.” he shames.
hamzah gives an innocent scratch to his neck to distract from the fact that he too was keeping an eye on you.
“‘m lookin’ for my pack of gum, did’you take it?” you raise your voice only slightly and receive silence as a response, “sorry tash, he’s playin’ deaf or something …” you place a hand over the phone’s speaker, walking in front of the tv and making the boys groan in irritation (except for hamzah, he just kind of hides a smile while enjoying the view of you in your warm toned track suit).
“i didn’t take anything from you, move.” leo shoos.
“ugh, give me a sec,” you shake your head before continuing to search the area. you move board games around and check extra closet space. eventually, you circle back to the couch, forcing heads to duck around your figure as you ask, “hamzah?” he looks up at you curiously, “could you just scoot like a smidge? i wanna check the couch”
“yeah. yeah, for sure,” he moves himself over while continuing to fiddle his fingers against the controller in hand. you bend down to your knees next to him, digging your hand through the break in the cushions and almost immediately come in contact with the crushed pack of spearmint gum.
“yuck! leo, seriously? the couch is like the worst hiding spot too,” you sigh and lift yourself up, placing a hand expertly on hamzah’s knee to guide you, before you directly speak to him, “thanks.”
hamzah just stares for a bit, struck by the feeling of your subtle hand on him. “mhm, ‘course,” he eventually mumbles out — but you’ve already started walking away, placing your phone back against your ear and picking up your conversation enthusiastically.
── .✦
“so, where are you going?” you chirp, following leo around the aimless halls, full of family photos and high-class artistry, while slurping gently at the homemade chicken noodle soup your mother made — per your request.
he’s practically hopping along, trying to shove his shoes on without stopping his fast-paced movement. “no where,” he dismisses while unintentionally leading you into the entryway.
“i was just curious,” you speak with a smile, your feet bring you towards the small window adjacent to the front door. “god forbid,” you joke and place the spoon back in your mouth, handle pointing downwards, while peeking through the linen curtains. your eyes supremely brighten and your heartbeat thumps two times faster upon noticing the familiar janky old car parked against the curb.
it’s been a week since hamzah spent his night huddled away in your home’s guest room with rolling thunder claps guiding his sleep; a week since he spent the next morning sat at the table, enduring your family’s chaotic breakfast and overlapping conversations; since he was prompted to work his pool-boy shift a few days earlier than scheduled as he was already there and the storm had caused the pool to be wrecked with leaves and twigs anyway.
a week since you’ve seen his face or heard his voice greet you with a kind, “hey”.
when you hear leo sigh, “shit, i forgot-” and turn away from the door, you’re setting the ceramic bowl down on a decorative cabinet nearby (even if your parents would likely cry with the chances of the hot liquid spilling on their collection of expensive, glass figurines) and rushing to pull on a pair of slippers.
you leave out of the large door and run down your fine-trimmed, grass lawn with a wild, smiley expression.
hamzah’s distracted by the miniature rubik’s cube in his hands when you knock your knuckles softly against the glass. his eyes gleam at the sight of you: your hair full of volume and curls, framing your face; your warm chestnut skin, hydrated and soft-looking, the faded pink t-shirt you wear hangs easily off your shoulder, and you’re framed with a backdrop of a sherbet colored sky — he feels like he dreamed you.
he rolls the window down, and you both speak at once:
“hey,” he says, like always.
“hi, hamzah,” you lean on his car while peering in. he’s wearing glasses today, his hair is just as fluffy as normal, and he’s got on a graphic tee that crinkles too much while he’s sitting for you to properly read.
you both laugh.
“cute slippers,” he comments making both of you look downwards for a glimpse.
you smile down at your grey slippers, in the shape of a bunny with big tall ears, then look back towards the boy, “thanks.”
“uh huh. what’ve you been up to?” he asks.
“i was at the studio earlier for four hours — felt like the longest lesson ever, and i’ve taken classes that have lasted nine hours.” you tell him truthfully.
“jeez.” he blows a deep breath from his mouth. “well, i actually thought of you the other day.”
your heart runs circles in your chest, probably throwing roses in its wake and writing invitations, for the party held inside your brain, in a curly-cursive font. “really? i’m truly honored, pool-boy. what gives?”
he breathes a laugh at the indelicate nickname, “i was just at the thrift with a few of my boys and saw this … shit-” he pauses to look away in thought (but also as an excuse to break the eye contact you keep hold of), “i can’t think of what it’s called. but one of those jewelry boxes that play music and have a pretty ballerina spinnin’ in the center?” he uses his hands to depict the image of a box and then swirls his finger to gesture the dancing.
“yes! i know exactly what you’re talking about, i think i still have mine actually,” you agree enthusiastically.
“really? yeah. made me think of the only pretty ballerina i know of.” he shrugs.
your lips curl up harsh before you break into a small laugh, “it’s about time you flirt back. i knew you had it in you.”
hamzah’s mouth opens just an inch in a humorous shock, he goes to defend but can’t manage to get a word in when your brother’s approaching, fast, “y/n, enough perving on my friend.”
you roll your eyes but don’t take his remark to heart (it’s difficult to let any negativity bring you down after this conversation with hamzah). you walk backwards from his car, “then tell your friend to stop being so hot, it’s distracting,” you reply before offering a wave of your fingers to the doe-eyed driver, “bye hamzah.”
your brother scolds you, throwing his hand in the air next to him, “yeah, yeah, get your ass inside." he opens the passenger door and begins to climb in, "you look ridiculous, half your shirt is hanging off of you!"
“thanks, i hadn’t noticed!” you adjust your shirt to shift even lower down your shoulder, watching the two drive off.
…
eventually, when they’ve reached the stop sign at the end of your street, hamzah speaks up, “she wasn’t perving, by the way. it was chill, just talkin’.”
“you probably took it that way, but i know my sister. she crushes on anything that has a dick and happens to look at her longer than ten seconds.” leo tsks, digging for a lighter in his back pocket.
hamzah is taken aback as he drives, glancing over to his friend, “aw, cmon man. she’s your sister, don’t say that about her.”
“she’s heard worse about herself,” leo murmurs as he lights and takes a hit of the joint, before passing it off to hamzah, “just … y’know … it’s better if you stay the hell away from her; don’t get her hopes up and shit.” he blows the smoke in plumes that trail out his window.
hamzah coughs a bit at the last sentence, attempting to play it off with a smooth, “yeah, don’t worry about it.” before inhaling once more.
── .✦
you've realized you're not so graceful and choreographed in the kitchen as you are on stage. not in the slightest; you've made a mess of the counter — cluttered with skewed lemons, pools of water, cutting boards, and a bag of sugar with a trail of access crystals surrounding it — but at least it was worth it, now that you have a two gorgeous glasses of cool lemonade in your hands with pink miniature umbrellas attached to the rims, of course.
you slide the glass door closed with the tiny heel of your wedge sandals, stepping down and letting the sun soak you into her wake. the greenery is neatly shrubbed and trimmed, allowing for deep canary flowers to decorate in patches, the pool is the shade of a peacocks wings, and the pool-boy is in his usual get up only today he dawns a bright red ball-cap that would surely hold your attention if you weren’t already gawking.
you walk over to him, sipping lazily, while he’s squatting and dipping his hand into the calm pool water. you tap your toe against his heel from behind to get his attention, “hi.”
he looks over, glances over you (with your body-hugging, white bikini and sheer pink shawl you have draped along your waist and through the nook of your elbows), and rises with a grin, “hey, what’s up?”
you extend your arm to hand him the tall glass of lemonade, “made you somethin’.”
“really? thanks,” he sips from the curly straw making his face pinches in humor. he coughs slightly from the sour drink scratching at his throat, “you made this from scratch?” his voice still cracks making you laugh while you nod, “i can tell.” he jokes.
“don’t judge my lemonade until you try making some yourself! the water to lemon ratio is ridiculously hard to get right, okay?” you defend with your arms stretched out by your side.
“okay,” he looks past you, towards your home’s tall glass windows, before glancing back into your eyes with an attractive grin, “i believe you.”
“good,” you agree then suggest, “i wanna go see a movie tonight.”
“what movie?” his face is well shaded by his hat but you can still make out his inquisitive eyes without the sun’s unapologetic light.
“i know what you did last summer. they’re doing a projection of it over in calia park, like a drive-in but with big blankets instead of cars.” you raise your hand to sit against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the sun as well.
hamzah nods while taking gulps from his lemonade, he kind of wants to hold your hand away from your face so that he can see every bit of your eyes and tell you how gorgeous you look right now. he swallows, “that sounds fun, who are you going with?”
“so, that was actually the part where you offer to take me out tonight.”
hamzah brings his hand up to dramatically grab his head, “damn it! forgot my lines, le’mme retry,” he wets his lips before smiling at you, “yeah that sounds fun, what time can i pick you up?”
“that’s better. and seven works for me,” you offer and sip from your straw once more.
“cool, i’ll be parked a few houses down so your brother won’t kick my ass.”
“i wouldn’t let him even if he tried …”
he places a hand on his heart and jokes, “ohh my protector,” making you laugh before he requests, “‘kay i’ll see you later, y/n. wear somethin' cute.”
you nod and begin to walk backwards away from him, holding back a grin.
── .✦
"where're you goin' out to this late?" leo calls from the top of the stairs.
he figured something was up with you when you rushed away from the dinner table and had yourself completely changed by 6:40. he'd be right, but it wasn't any of his business to know why your makeup is perfectly in place, your voluminous curly hair is malleably clipped away with only a few stray pieces spilling out, and you're wearing an outfit you finally settled for after contemplating what hamzah may consider "cute" — a short but breathable pomegranate-colored skirt, small white tank, and a dark brown cardigan with lots of fuzz to keep you warm.
you grumble from the bottom of the stairs, where you adjust the simple flats on your feet, "nun-yah!"
"guess that's what i'll tell mom and dad when they ask," he warns.
"i'm nineteen, this is stupid! 'm walking down the street to mackenzie's. i'll be back a little later." you sigh before shutting the front door.
the warm air snuggles into your skin as you walk down the sidewalk, glancing at the passing homes and playing with the charms that dangle from your bracelet.
when you approach hamzah's car you can hear his music seeping from inside but as soon as you open the door and sit into the passenger seat he's quickly turning it down to a comfortable level. “hey! you’re early!” he says pointing to the blue digital display reading ‘6:58 PM’.
you fasten your seat belt with a light giggle, “does eagerness look nice on me?” you look over at him and he’s already got his mouth split in a grin.
he raises his eyebrows slightly, “don’t think i’ve seen somethin’ look bad on you.” he peers longingly over your outfit then clears his throat, “i, uh,” he reaches into the back seat, grabbing a folded plaid blanket to show it off to you, “made sure to bring us a blanket to sit on.”
you thank him in a slight squeal while retrieving it from his hold and giving him a gentle hug across the center console for his consideration, “it’s perfect.”
── .✦
hamzah has tried his fucking hardest to pay attention to this film but is discovering how difficult it is to keep his eyes on the obvious oversized, bright sheet in front of him when he’s got you playing eye tag next to him. every time he glances over you happen to actually be watching, the lighting displayed over your face giving him a beautiful scene of your features. yet whenever he looks away he can feel your gaze pinching at his cheeks and daring him to make contact.
“hamzah?” you finally ask, without looking at him.
“huh?” he lets out in almost a huff, its a weird noise created from his breath being caught in the thick air.
you’re silent in return and when he moves his head to check in on you, he can see you slowly remove your alluring brown cardigan, exposing the pale white tank underneath that leaves your glowing skin on display. “i was getting warm.” you smile at him, “and you make me nervous.”
“i do?” his voice is almost a whine, as if he’s that concerned— or possibly straining to maintain eye contact. a smile plays on his face while he lies down, holding his head up with his fist.
“mmmhmmm…” you mumble and lower yourself to lie down and mirror him. “you’re just so damn cute,” you grab another apple slice from the glass tupperware bowl you brought from home), then dip it in the sticky caramel — hamzah had purchased per your request.
the caramel melts in your mouth around the hard, tangy apple and hamzah admires as your jaw slowly chews before he’s gruffly asking, “can i have a taste?”
when your eyes shift to him again, they gain a twinkle of spontaneity that you can’t help but act on; you hum and swirl your finger in caramel before popping it in your mouth, coating your tongue in a sweet glaze. your smirk is infectious and you shift closer, feeling his gaze watch over your body’s every move.
your hand comes to hold his face, trace his jaw once, twice. you both take turns blinking from the other’s eyes to their lips before you slowly connect, allowing the tacky caramel to coat and intoxicate his tongue through your passion. in a surrounding darkness the projected movie screen casts a soft spotlight onto your meshed faces.
you never want the gentle hold of his mouth on yours to end, you’d simply let him kiss you to death if willing. he eventually pulls away to smile and take you in before giving one last kiss to your mouth.
a giggle is forced out of you. his lips are shiny and more plump, like he’d bit into a summer peach, his eyes crinkled beautifully. he pulls you close and your head dives into his chest, while he begins to giggle alongside you. he whispers, “not what i was expecting …” he scratches softly at your back, “but i’m happy.”
you feel a dizziness from possibly nerves and excitement all at once, “yeah? me too.” you shamelessly lean in for more.
── .✦
you spent the rest of your night detailing every moment of your first date into your faux leather journal, biting your lips in memory and giggling when glee filled your body up to its brim.
after a short drive back home you made sure to give hamzah a few extra kisses and compliment his kindness when bidding him goodbye. he was sure to watch as you snuck back into your house before driving away into the night. the two of you wouldn’t know that your brother noticed headlights from his window and almost lost his temper watching you exit that fucker’s car, until hamzah’s phone rang the next day and he suddenly was without a job or friend.
a scalding voice delivered, “so when would you have told me you’ve been secretly macking on my baby sister?”
hiii i’m so sorry to leave u all hanging! college is rlly beating my ass and i have started to feel less inclined to write about real people. it almost ruins their content for me when i start to perceive them within the mindset of “i need to write for them” or see them in the way i may have written them in the past. so, i don’t think i will be active here any longer! i appreciate everyone who has & continues to support my work and im sorry to have not completed many of the series/aus i’ve started, hope you all are safe and doing well, take carrrrreeeeeeee <3 -mickey
hamzah has a summer gig as the pool boy for one of his friends and y/n can’t help it if she’s just so intrigued by this friend of her brother’s.
01. 02. 03.
crushes came to you quite often.
you remember playground crushes; the boys you liked to stare at from afar as you played in the sand as a child. or the boys who frequented your prestigious ballet studio who were pretty and rambunctious which aided your curiosity. there was presley in high school who you found undeniably cool with his tattoos and effortless guitar playing skills; things ended with your heart torn at the fact that he admitted to enjoying your admiration and desire for him more than you and your entirety. he must’ve thought you were some ditz with the way he spoke to you that night : “i’m sorry, but i’m no liar, i never said i loved you, let alone liked you. in what world would we ever be together, y/n?”
your older sister, mina, has always told you boys are nothing but compliant lap dogs to the other boys around them; she warned you that you’ll never find one that would hold you because just because you asked (or even better if you didn’t have to ask), that he would make sure his buddy is wrapping his arms around a girl before he found it okay to do so. give and take, a fight for validation. a constant look around to ensure they’re accepted among themselves, “they’ll never learn to care if you except the bare minimum from them and it’s only worse that you’re so quick to accept any “love” without them having to at least try, y/n.”
she told you not to get caught up in the drama that came with boys (their breaking hearts and such) — or the other catty girls who were in competition to hold a guy’s attention for longer than a night in bed or date night out.
your older brother (who's also mila's twin) always claimed that your sister was spitting out a mouthful of bullshit whenever she’d start her hate-speech against men. this would typically lead the two to begin their own brawl, leaving you to solemnly look the other way, to find a safe piece of eye-candy that would surely turn your pupils into tiny black hearts.
while you tend to get a little fantastical about your intense desire for devotion and affection, your first, grounded love came in the form of ballet.
at age four you found yourself captivated by a small ballet theater production of sleeping beauty, you still fondly remember your great aunt accompanying you and the way she cried the entire time. you haven’t known a time where you weren’t amazed by the way you could move your body. you remember stretching yourself obsessively and eventually by age six you were watching late night shows with your family while maintaining a full split in front of the tv.
yet now, at nineteen that childhood dream you’ve worked towards your entire life feels like an overwhelming, burnt-out nightmare with clouded vision and harshly barked orders of “higher!” “now tighter!” “follow through!” “be consistent!” from your roster of highly established instructors, all fighting around in your head.
those first two years of school gave you a glimpse of what you’ve always thought you wanted — early mornings, strict diets, long days of structured dancing, endless nights of studying, eye bags covered in concealer, headaches from tight ponytails or buns, icing your knee caps on weekends, losing your mind and your poise demeanor without a doubt by the end of each semester. and above all you missed your parents, so bad.
so, after much pouting (and a few phone calls that consisted of you crying and blubbering about how broken down you’d become), your parents allowed for you to spend your summer break at home with them (rather than your usual confinement to an acclaimed, private ballet institution for the entire break), under the guise that you’d be training with your old high school instructor to ensure you maintain your pristine skill level. you were sure that obligation was easy enough, as you’d already been through the hell of it in the spring.
now the sun beats on your glowy skin as you lie on a cream lounge chair. the bikini you wear is a soft kiss of pink, decorated in tiny black polka dots, that leaves little to imagine. your long legs are crossed at the ankle, bare feet exposed with your toes painted an elegant matching shade of pink. your book is now abandoned at your hip as you gaze, with squinted eyes, at the boy stood across the lawn’s wide stretch of concrete. his focus is on cleaning your family pool — rarely stopping unless he finds it completely necessary to wipe away a growing layer of sweat from his forehead.
he’s hasn’t given you any attention, barely a glance over, nothing close to an introduction. yet he’s somehow become your new person of interest with such little effort or time. you’ve covered yourself in sunscreen (in a slow fashion just in case he wanted a teasing show mid-shift), flipped onto your stomach to show off the curve of your ass as you read a few chapters of a memoir (trying to focus on the words written in times new roman to avoid getting distracted by the tall man), you’ve gone inside to grab a pair of sunglasses (to have a reason to walk by him and gain a shield that allows you to stare without your eyes on display), after ten minutes you decided sunglasses made the world far too dark and you would rather he know you’re staring at him than stare and get a poor view.
there was something about his warm, beautifully tanned skin and toned arms working against his white wife-beater that hugged him well. and his face was so inviting — you liked it when he had a question about a certain pipe and went to ask your dad about it, as he listened he cracked a smile and gave a nod of his head in understanding. it’s unbearable that you don’t know his name, but you can imagine it’s something cute that you’d like the sound of when hearing your voice deliver it.
after a much needed bathroom break, you make your way back outside with a deep red, raspberry popsicle in your hand. you lick over the cold dessert a few times as you move closer to where the boy sits, obviously exhausted, with his head tilted down towards his knees.
“hi,” you speak, standing in front of him.
he seems to be caught off guard by your presence, flinching slightly before looking up (attempting to refrain from scanning over your exposed body), “uh, hey?”
“are you finished?” you question with a slight head tilt.
“oh, not really, i just have t’pressure check the jets in the hot tub. that’s my bad, ill get back to it.” he goes to stand but you place your hand gently on his shoulder so that he stays.
you both look at your hand’s placement then into each other’s eyes. you smile awkwardly, taking your hand off of him and begin pretending to dust something off of his shoulder, “… just some sorta feather or …” you clear your throat and retract your hand again, “sorry, um, i just thought i’d introduce myself. because- well, i live here and i guess i … just wanted to know your name,” you speak softly and bring the popsicle to your mouth to suckle a little more.
your eyes look at him with a sense and emotion he’s not sure anyone has in his entire life. you’re like a viper or siren, some sort of creature that’s hypnotizing him with beauty and desire. as he speaks you continue lapping the popsicle in your mouth, he clears his throat, “hamzah.”
“hamzah? i like it.” you love it.
“yeah?” he looks down at the popsicle that’s now slick from your mouth’s warmth, then he’s looking back in your eyes, “thanks.”
“how’d my parent’s find such a cutie to come pour chlorine in the pool?” you flirt.
“i mean i do more than pour chlorine in a pool, y’know i check the piping, change the tank …” your stare is so captivating it’s hard for him to not feel like blushing, “i’ll, uh, tell you all about it later. t’answer your question, i’m friends with leo and needed a summer gig before goin’ back to school.”
you can’t believe it’s true — your brother doesn’t have nice friends. your brother even doesn’t have friends with real jobs let alone any that plan to complete college. you laugh softly, “no, you’re not? i know all of my brother’s friends.”
hamzah shrugs his shoulders, “i mean, i guess we weren’t the closest in high school,” he pinches his eyes slightly, “you are the younger sister, right? the one who’s got all that dance business goin’ on?”
you shake your head in slight embarrassment at your description, “yes, that’s me with the “dance business”” you smile, “i’m y/n.”
“cool. s’nice to meet you,” he reaches his hand out and you place yours in his hold as you two shake hands.
── .✦
you were pouring a glass of water when the idea came to you; you knew hamzah was bound to be leaving soon but you craved to hear more from him. all it took was a slight (but very intentional) tumble of the words, “i wanna invite that new pool boy to stay dinner,” for your father to immediately agree.
he continues to stir at the sizzling vegetables in his pan, “oh! that’s a wonderful idea, sweetheart, open that for for me?” he nods towards the sliding glass door.
you try not to display your excitement too blatantly, but can’t help that your socked feet glide over to the door.
your father’s immediately calling out, “hey hamzah! c’mere a minute would’ya?”
hamzah immediately bolts over, he’s out of breath and surprised to see you leaning against the open door, “hey,” he directs to you but it’s sounds more like a gasp for air than a word.
“no running by the pool,” you whisper back, watching as his face of confusion turns into another smile.
“fair,” hamzah shrugs.
“hamzah, we were hopin’ you’d stay for dinner tonight?”you father speaks loudly, and the way he says it makes it sound like more of a statement than a question.
his face lights up, “sur-”
“say yes,” you warn through your teeth, knowing your father’s irritation with any use of a word as dismissive as “sure”.
“yes, um, yes that sounds great. thank you, sir.” he can see you giggling beside him, and when your father turns away he playfully nudges your side with his elbow.
── .✦
dinner was full of undying conversation and many overlaps in dialogue. never a dull moment.
“y/n, pass the mashed potatoes,” your brother calls out.
you whine, “leo, i just said my entire body hurts from training, i’ve passed it back and forth like four times already.”
“oh my god, and somehow your complaining just ruined my appetite, anyway. i can always count on you, y/n.” he laughs under his breath.
“that’s enough, now.” your mother speaks up, “but y/n, i’m getting worried, do you think you need some extra sessions dedicated to stretching?”
“i’m fi-”
“shoot, hamzah could give you some tips on stretchin’.” your brother jokes, “weren’t you in ballet?”
hamzah is completely flushed, “like, barely, my parents forced me when i was, like, seven-”
he’s cut off as soon as you register what this could mean for you, “wait, you’d really help me?” you ask with a sense of genuine curiosity, and a big, encouraging smile of course.
“hamzah i never knew you were so, multitalented.” your mother comments.
leo laughs, “he’s n-”
hamzah clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a small napkin, “well, yeah, i’ll help out wherever i can.”
“really?!” you’re relieved that he actually agreed.
“oh good fucking luck,” your brother sighs under his breath and claps a hand against hamzah’s shoulder.
── .✦
“don’t forget you need to meet me at the studio at 6 to beat the rush, wear something flexible, and remember to bring your smart brain and lots of patience — i can be kinda bitchy that early in the morning!”
hamzah sighs, returning to standing a few inches above you now that he’s done tying his shoes in your foyer, “as opposed to bringing my dumb brain and all of my impatience —” he smiles at you and but your face is plain and straight, “right. yeah, i got it all. you also wrote it down for me on my hand, remember?” he shows his hand with purple, glittery ink covering the palm.
your arms are crossed as you explain, “yes but that’s just unreliable- it’ll be gone by morning…” you shrug and watch as he pulls a sweatshirt in over his head, “and i need to tell you these things in case you forget about me and don’t set an alarm.”
he laughs as adjusts the sleeves of the mossy green sweatshirt, “i won’t.”
“cool.”
“so i’m wakin’ up at 10 and goin’ for breakfast then meeting up with you?” he jokes and immediately catches your hand in his own before you get the chance to push his shoulder. he laughs as he brings you close, keeping your hand in his as he offers a warm side hug. “i’ll be at the studio before 6, how about that?”
you nod as you pull away, “you better.”
“uh huh,” he opens your front door and finally calls out “good night!” to your family, who all echo the sentiment back to him. before he fully walks out he turns to you, with your hold on the tall wooden door, “bye, i’ll see you in, like, nine hours or somethin’.”
“bye, thank you,” you smile and watch him rush over to his car parked on the street, “don’t forget, hamzah!” you holler and watch his figure throw a thumbs up into the air before he climbs into his slightly janky car.
── .✦
you both were a couple of yawning, baby fawns with the amount of slow blinks and constant, accidental bumps into each other as you walked into the quiet studio and found your way into a private practice room.
the colors of the walls and equipment were various muted browns and light grays. you set your duffle bag on the ground and stretched your arms above you, “so, what exactly are we doing?”
hamzah rubs at his eyes, he’s clad in basic grey sweatpants and another white wife-beater, his hair is its usual curly with slight frizz from sleep, “umm, you’re the professional here?”
“hamzahhhh, you said you would help!” you drag while adjusting yourself onto the floor, stretching out your legs on either side of you.
“yeah! but i wasn’t expectin’ to have any stretches made! im not a yoga instructor, i was just gonna be your little assistant.” he moves to the ground with you.
“m’kay, here,” you flutter your fingers to encourage him to mimic your position and hold onto your forearms, “and now flatten your back and lean forward,” you both complete the action then return to sitting up.
“what do they always say? come on, deep breaths, in!” you both hold “and out,” you both release.
you smile at him,“you’re a natural, look at you!” you compliment.
the two of you complete your entire yoga flow that you’d do almost every day at university, before progressing into the most random yoga poses you’d heard of under the guise of “let’s just try it!”
there were a few fails due to lack of balance or the need to burst into laughter but generally you two worked well together.
just before you two left you asked hamzah to help you stretch deeper, as you lie flat on a mat, lifting your leg up boldly. “i just need you to kneel down and push my leg all the way into my chest for me …” you bite at your bottom lip to suppress a smile.
hamzah finishes his sip of water, watching you lie there in that tight yoga piece, dangling a foot in the air and inviting him to be so close to you. “yeah? ‘kay, guide me.” he sets the bottle down and kneels in front of you as you asked.
“mhm, yeah here i’ll just,” you move your leg onto his shoulder and bring his hand to your lower thigh, just above your knee, “right … there.” you let your hand linger on his before looking back at him. he’s already focused on your face and your next command, “just lean forward and bring my leg with you,” you accidentally let out the tiniest, whiniest little groan.
“m’sorry,” he whispers with wide eyes.
“no, don’t. it’s good, i needed this,” you remind.
“yeah, just breathe, you’re doin’ good.” he coaches while pushing your leg further.
── .✦
“mmm! if the girls in my class knew i was eating this i’d be skinned and shunned from the program!” you shake your head, raspberry jelly dribbling from the side of your lips. you’re more than grateful hamzah suggested you both stop by a small shop, only a block away, for some post-yoga sweetness.
hamzah continues to walk back towards the studio with you next to him, crinkling wax paper wrapping into his pocket, “that’s gnarly as fuck, you couldn’t even have like a single plain donut? just one?”
“no, and half of ‘em have heart palpitations at the thought of honey nut cheerios. i think donuts would end them, unfortunately.” you wipe your face.
“well, damn maybe ballet-in’ kinda sucks?”
“maybe.” you sigh and bring the large jelly donut up to his mouth as he bites, “what’d you think it was like?”
he shrugs, chews a little, then answers, “i dunno- fun?”
you let out a soft laugh and take another bite. you’re just a little annoyed that hamzah makes it far too easy to crush on him — how dare he be so pretty and kind and actually interested…?
── .✦
a/n: hiii first part of my short series for hamzah! yaaayyy!! hope u all liked this, i did not proof read too in depth so im kinda just prayin it makes sense. love ya! <3
request! i read in your post you wanted angst requests, and i loveee the trope of him being a jealous roommate, and seeing you with another guy, leading to an argument about it. honestly, do whatever you feel right, i believe your writing style is so unique you couldn’t mess it up.
untitled
hamzahthefantastic x reader
description: a night of studying obviously entails stressful situations: not knowing the answers to your problems, sleep deprivation, and cramming, to say the least. however, another problem arises when you decide to hold a small study session with a boy from your class: a roommate who hates your study partner.
mentions: angst, jealousy, argument, she/her pronouns, angsty love confession, happy ending, making out, mostly sfw!
thank u to whoever sent the request. small comments and compliments really keep me going <33
--
you were sleep deprived, to say the least.
violet bags formed droops underneath your eyes, followed by the weighted heaviness your eyelids held with each blink threatening to be longer and longer each time. your back was almost curled into a "c," slumped onto your desk as your head was held in your left hand, pencil being grazed upon paper in your right. exhaustion devoured the whole point of the study session: to hold as much material in your brain as you could about the material for your final exam in two days.
you started off strong at around 5:00 in the afternoon. the material was able to be grasped and understood as if it was truly a part of you that was forgotten and remembered. however, the longer the you stared at the numbers and symbols on your notebook, the more your brain turned as mushy as a rotten apple. one redbull turned into three cans, in addition to a shot of espresso taken at around 12:00 in the morning, as you delved deeper into the madness of the units you learned in math.
now, you originally were going to do this completely on your own. you've done it before; actually, you've done it so many times that it's almost expected of you to procrastinate until the last minute to study and review, no matter how many times it ends with regret, twenty pages of notes, and sleep deprivation. however, after posting about how much you've been struggling with a certain subset of problems given in the study guide, logan, a boy from the same math class as you, texted.
he told you he could help you if he needed: that he could come over and assist you with your studying, since he understood the material quite well. you believed him, since you sat next to him constantly. each time papers and tests were being handed back to you, your eyes lingered and glanced at his paper, an A+ written in slanted cursive each time at the top of his paper. though you've studied by yourself many times and each time got a knowledgable, thoughtful grade, you began to lose hope in yourself. so, logan showed up at your doorstep at around 1:00 in the morning.
you both crammed and retained as many formulas, problems, and tactics as you could as the sun began to rise slowly and steadily, showing and revealing itself to the residents living in the northern hemisphere. by the time the sun was fully up, around 7:30 in the morning, you told him that you could take it from here and that he was free to leave now.
as you walked him out, your roommate sat on the brown, leather couch of your shared apartment, binge watching some random show he found on the netflix account you both had access to. this wasn't an unusual sight; hamzah streamed quite often, most of the time resulting in all-nighters or a scattered sleep schedule. however, the sight in front of him was the unusual one: who the fuck is that blonde haired boy who was in your room, leaving at 7:42 in the morning? his eyes widened at the thought of another man stayed in the same room as you for the entire night. that was practically his room; hamzah had clothes in there, as well as his monkey plush that the both of you got together. another man was practically in his space and he did not take it lightly.
"bye logan. thanks for all the help last night. i really appreciate it," you thanked, genuinely grateful that he was able to help you with your studies.
he smiled a toothy grin, "yeah, anytime! just call me whenever you need me. i'll be there."
his backpack, full of textbooks and notebooks from the night, was the last thing hamzah saw before the door was shut and his roommate's body was turned towards him. he noticed how rough you looked; eyes half-shut and lidded with an intense look of sleepiness laced into your gaze, as well as a yawn coming from out of your mouth before you began to converse with him.
he smiled at you, momentarily forgetting the fact that you just walked a boy out of your apartment, "morning, pretty."
you and hamzah's relationship was weird; you weren't really dating, yet, you weren't really only friends either. there was an certain unspoken tension between the two of you; a tension that kept you connected with string, yet couldn't be cut even if you had the sharpest pair of scissors available. you enjoyed his presence, he enjoyed yours. however, you both also didn't want to ruin what you already had, so it was a simple understanding of each other that never got to be turned into spoken word.
"morning, hamzah. did you sleep at all?" you asked him.
he turned down the volume of the show in front of him with the remote, "huh? oh, nah. i was streaming 'til like, 6, or something. who's he?"
you looked around the room for another body besides yours and the boy in front of you, "who's who?"
"the guy you just walked out of the apartment," his voice had a slight essence of an attitude in it, "the one that looks like fuckin butters from south park."
you laughed, taking a seat next to him and resting your head on his shoulder , "that's logan. he was just helping me out with something last night."
"how long was he here?"
"he came here around, like, 1 in the morning. why?"
"'nothin," he said, turning the volume back up.
--
logan became a regular guest at the house, oddly showing up mostly at weird hours of the morning. most of the time, it was you answering the knock on your wooden front door, greeting him and going to your room to study some more. on the contrary, the times where hamzah was conveniently in the living room watching a show or editing a video and the door knocked, he became slightly hostile. each time, no matter where or what you were doing, he wouldn't answer the door. the first couple times, you didn't realize it; you thought that possibly hamzah could've not heard the knock because of how loud he watches his shows. however, you soon realized that he simply just wouldn't get up. you shrugged it off, letting him in after he texted you that he was outside the door.
currently, your exams are on pause for the break that you were given from school. your sleep schedule was in ruins, either sleeping at 6 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon. you noticed that throughout the break, hamzah was distant, only occasionally asking you if you wanted some food that he was cooking or if the wifi was out. you missed him. you didn't know what was wrong, nor what was happening. his short responses and leaving the room whenever you entered was confusing you. a week ago, you two were cuddling on the couch and he was forcing you to watch horror movies with him. now, he leaves the room whenever any part of your body touches the wooden floor of your living room. at 12:00 in the morning, you decided that enough was enough.
you knocked onto his bedroom door, before letting yourself in. his eyes remained locked onto the screen in front of him, not caring to recognize that you were now in his room. he seemed standoffish; he seemed cold. it was like the man that was once radiating a certain warmth from within himself was extinguished and watered down. it worried you, really. you wanted him back, though he wasn't yours.
"are you streaming?" you asked him.
his eyes remained stagnant and his voice spoke to you in the same monotonous tone, "no."
"do you wanna go do something?"
"like?"
you sat on his bed next to him, "i dunno. anything."
"can't. busy."
you were tired, however, not tired in a way that can be fixed with sleep. in fact, you didn't know how this could be fixed. though the connection you two had was never truly spoken about and simply understood through actions and gestures, you finally decided to speak about it.
"hamzah."
"what?"
"what's wrong? did something happen?"
he finally made eye contact with you, "nothing's wrong, nothing happened."
"you've been so distant, something's wrong. y'know you can talk to me about anything, right-"
he swiveled his chair towards you, frustration painted as a mural onto his face, "jesus fucking christ, dude. just because i don't wanna go out- it doesn't mean anything."
you were taken aback, "it's not even just today. it's this whole week. did i do something wrong?"
"if you wanna go out so bad, why don't you go ask logan?"
a switch suddenly flipped into your head; hamzah was jealous. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood why he was; not only was he jealous, but he was rightfully so. you didn't realize that your nights were now always spent studying and memorizing instead of spending time with him.
"why would i go ask logan?"
hamzah scoffs, "why wouldn't you go ask him? he's over almost every fucking time i try to go ask you if you wanna go get food or go watch a movie. you might as well date the kid if you're gonna be sleeping with him every night while dragging me along."
"hamzah-"
his eye contact remained intense, "no, i'm not done. fuck, i thought we had something. i thought those nights on the couch where we'd just sit and talk and watch random shit and make fun of random shit meant something. i liked you. i liked you so fucking much. and then logan comes around and just steals you. what does he have that i don't?"
"hamzah-"
"i'm still not done. i would've loved to be with you and do corny couple shit with you if you weren't with him. shit, i feel fucking stupid because i still would love to be with you and it's so, so obvious you don't feel the same way. do you know how much it hurts to hear you two at night? our rooms are next to each other, do you realize i can hear you guys laughing? then, when it's quiet, i just think about how you guys could be sleeping together and cuddling just like how we did. this kid- he came out of fucking nowhere. and now suddenly, i'm just fucking alone and you just fucking left me. it's like your fingers are intertwined in my brain and just fucking with every single fold. why did you do that? why would you do that-"
impulse struck your brain like lightning on the highest mountain peak. hamzah wouldn't shut up. yet, he's never really shut up a day in his life. so, you did the obvious. you grabbed his cheeks, forcefully making his face directly in front of yours. your lips landed on his, a kiss of desperation and risky acts.
you pulled away, not realizing what you were doing until after it happened. you both looked at each other wide-eyed and shocked, almost as if a total stranger kissed both of you.
"fuck- i'm sorry- i don't know why i did that-"
he grabbed your face with both of his hands, cupping your cheeks in each one. his lips, once again, settled on yours. this kiss was different; the way you kissed him was spontaneous and filled with uncertainty. his, on the other hand, was rough and needed. you never realized how truly needy hamzah was until the moment where he pulled you onto his lap, straddling his lap. his hands made its way up and down your body. his tongue, tasting like the mint gum he was chewing before you came into his room, entered your mouth as if it lived there previously. you both were upset at each other, however, with every moment where your lips were touching, it was like you completely forgot why you both were tense. you attempted to pull away; you remembered that you still needed to explain everything. however, you watched as his lips grew magnetic to yours, attempting to chase after your mouth like he would die from even a split second apart.
"hamzah. i don't like logan."
his eyes turned soft compared to the gaze he gave you beforehand, "did you sleep with him?"
"no, baby, i didn't."
his heart melted at you calling him baby. you could see it in his eyes and the yearning expression he gave you.
"what were you guys doing at, like, 3 in the morning?"
"i've been struggling with math. i don't really know anyone else that's good at it, either. so when he offered to help me study, i took him up on it. it's at weird hours because he has work."
guilt began to eat hamzah up. he realized he had just scolded you for something that his brain made him believe, as well as the fact that he could have simply talked to you about it.
"i'm sorry. i'm actually so sorry- i don't know why i didn't just ask you. i just assumed that he was like, i don't know, a sneaky link or something."
you kissed him on the cheek, lovingly, "it's okay. i should've told you that he was just helping me study. i'm sorry, too."
you stayed there for a solid hour, with you still straddling his waist in his gaming chair with your legs. it wasn't sexual at all; in fact, it was the opposite. your arms wrapped around his neck as his arms wrapped around your back. your face held shelter in the area between his neck and his shoulder, finding solitude within the boy in front of you. it was silent, until hamzah decided to break the quietude filling the room.
"do you still wanna go out?"
you removed your face from his neck to look at him, "hamzah, it's one in the morning."
"so? i thought you wanted to go somewhere- get out of this apartment."
you gave him a peck on the lips, "no. i just wanted an excuse to be with you."
--
authors note!
okay i dont rly like how this turned out but i'll post it anyways. i might update it n add some more detail into it later on. have a good rest of ur day/night! i will eventually get to all the requests i get, but please be patient since i do have school outside of this <3
🖥️𓈒ིུ✧꫶᳜᳝͟ᰭ✿⃨ TRENDING NOW ! matt sturniolo was known for many things: his striking looks, his dominance in the gaming world, and his complete inability to keep his cool around beautiful women. so it’s almost poetic—almost—that his fiery temper explodes during an intense fortnite match, broadcasted live to thousands, only to discover later that the player who completely shattered his pride was y/n greenblatt, one of the most beloved streamers in the community—and undeniably beautiful.
─ 𖥻breaking news ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ fumble of the decade ?
❨ PAIRING ❩ streamer!MATT x streamer!READER
❨ GENRE ❩ smau with writing, strangers2lovers, fluff, slight angst, potential smut, twitch streamer au, matt sturniolo x female reader
✦ ۰ — DISCLAIMER ! cursing, suggestive/nsfw jokes, mentions of alcohol and drug consumption, matt is a fucking loser, y/n has a face claim for story purposes, original characters, kys jokes, tba
𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ this has been in the drafts (my brain) for months now, we’re going back to my second post ever and making it a series !!! (finally) i hope that you guys are just as excited as i am :3
✶ SIRENEDESLILY | 2O24. do not plagiarize any of my work.
| by the way… i just know that fwb!hamzah is the clingiest “friend” everrrrr!!!!
like he’d be kinda :/ ab the fact that he wasn’t spending new years with grumpy!reader. he’d be thinkin about you the whole time that he’s with family and friends, unable to fully enjoy the moment because he hasn’t even seen you in person since you two were both around campus together — all the way before christmas.
he’s definitely calling you immediately after the clock hits midnight and asking you all about your night, telling you all his of his thoughts and how much he misses you. and you’ll tell him that you’re actually at a house party in your hometown (he’s very shocked!!! but also proud that you went out and made the most of your night even though u tend to find things like that to be nothing more than boring) you tell him you wish he were there and that you know he’d fuck up the snacks they have laid out.
you wouldn’t tell him about the guy you just shared a new years kiss with… out of some sort of weird guilt and pitiful mixture in your stomach.
but you would never know he too is easily skipping over the fact that he’d just kissed his ex girlfriend in his friend’s basement — wanting to forget he’d even begun his new year that way 😭😭
