.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦢˚. ᵎᵎ / 3 fs x fem. reader /
your coworker, max, was much too famous, much too charming, much too beautiful to not have all the experience in the dating field imaginable. at least... you thought as much... / based off this request /
ANOTHER slow burn (my specialty) so yes it's very long... also this is touch-starved fs content ❤️🩹🥹
— # 𝑴𝑨𝑿. 𝑨 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 youtuber.
max. unbelievably handsome.
max. insane charisma and a sense of humor unmatched.
all of those things could equate to one thing and one thing only: loads and loads of girls. he was what they liked. comical but in a sly way, knowing always of what the right thing to say was, famous and well-liked... oh, and the cherry on top? the face to go along with it. though that was just a bonus. if he didn't have that, max would still be just fine in the courting field. he had all the wit and charm to make up for whatever loss there was in the physical realm.
he was winning in all respects and by all accounts. this was a fact that you'd grown comfortable with in your months of working the night shifts at your local pizzeria with him. you'd heard deets about the famous guy down the block—how could you not in a town so small, where everyone knew everything about the other?—but hadn't actually engaged in his content or gotten to know him well besides that.
either way, when he clocked into his first shift with you, the new boy in the workplace, you knew immediately who he was.
you weren't necessarily a flirt, but you weren't shy either. "well, from gamer to pizza person. did you get canceled or something?" the first thing you ever said to him. you were by the bathrooms where a bunch of lockers lay scattered across the walls and he was picking up his measly uniform from the hook. his attention averted to you almost instantly.
of 6 feet and surly build, a long, strong nose framed with soft brown eyes, sharp brows and pink lips, he was rather handsome. his pin-straight brown hair fell in pointy shapes across his scalp, rendering his face to precious perfection. you were a bit taken aback by his suddenly beautiful features, but his next works took you aback infinitely more.
"if this is the fate of a canceled person, being canceled doesn't sound too bad at all." he laughed, then shook his head, a teetering smile laying curiously on his lips and his eyes watching you bashfully.
it wasn't even said in a manner that entailed flirting. no, it wasn't flirty or teasing at all. it was humorous. the thing about max was that he could say things so sly, so romantic, so sensual, and make them sound like playful little quips. if that came from any other newbie, you would've slapped him clean over the head.
but max... it pulled a chuckle out of you.
he was effortless in that comical and catchy way everyone wanted to be. it was easy to understand why he was so famous when he was so fun to be around.
from that moment on, he was more in your favor than the coworkers you'd been with for months were.
a dynamic was grown. on his part: "meaningless" flirtations, uncalled-for quips, and humorous sensuality. on your part: a whole lotta eye-rolling and light-hearted sighing. 24/7 he had a joke up his sleeve or a new way of asking you out on a date. 24/7 were you laughing at his precious stupidity and denying his requests.
you hadn't actually considered him as anything more than a coworker for the longest while exactly because of who he was. as stated: handsome, charming, famous, hilarious... max. he could have any girl he wanted and his easy banter and charismatic flirtations entailed in that favor. you guessed he had everyone wrapped right around his finger and he was just acting with you as if you were any one of them.
it wasn't at all that his charms didn't entirely work on you. a few times, his jokes had you in a haze of red-tinted cheeks and jittery replies. a few times, you lied in bed picturing exactly what a relationship with him would mean if only he'd take you serious and you'd get the guts to risk becoming one of those girls.
no. it was impossible not to note the way max's hair shined a keen gold when the light through the windows shone in an acute way upon it. it was impossible not to note how his brown eyes flashed when a topic of question he liked was brought up by some other coworker. it was impossible not to note the genteel care with which he handled little kids, his general air of joy, and his lighthearted way of conversing.
the way his eyes squinted when he smiled. the way his canine folded a tad over the next tooth over, only visible when he was laughing extra hard. the way his soft lips became quickly chapped after a stressful night, or the cock of his head when he asked a question.
he was unmistakably unique, not even in his easy charisma, but in just... existing. just being. god, you hadn't let yourself see it at first, but it only grew more apparent and you only noticed more about him with time. the more you grew to like him, the more reminded you were of his own life outside of work. other girls, other people..
you liked to consider yourself a confident person.
the reason you liked max so much was because your confidence didn't offset him. if you threw out a haughty joke, he'd simply counteract it with his own. and though he was more bashful and lightheartedly so, he still wasn't entirely afraid of you.
from that, something was grown. max was the only one who knew how to dictate your soul, and it only took the 4 months he was working there to do that. you'd asked him why he was even working if he got money off youtube and he'd told you he liked an extra job on the side to support his mother, but more than that, to feel more connected with reality and the people around him. youtube, screens, and notoriety were daunting things. this reply only made you love him more.
that's why, as evening came to a close one particular night and you were working with max to close up the place, you weren't entirely afraid of your own feelings and what you'd do next.
the tap was running steaming-hot water into your pruned hands as you leisurely scrubbed pizza sauce and dried cheese from plates. max was in the other room clearing tables and occasionally, coming in with arms full of dirty dishes for you to clean.
currently, you were deep in conversation about the only movie theater closing down in your town and the prospect of potentially having to drive 30 minutes across borders to get to one; a conversation that paused momentarily as he shifted between rooms.
"movies theaters have been out of business for a while. except when there are big arrivals—" you called over your shoulder, hearing the door swing open and slam closed behind you as max came in with the last round of plates, which consisted of just 2 bowls and a spoon. "i just think that people already go so little to them, and so 30 minutes doesn't sound all too bad when it's once in a while.. the spot can be used more conveniently."
the boy set the items by the ledge on your side and you took a bowl, running it under the water. you watched from your periphery as he leaned against the counter and abstractedly stared in thought, his brown eyes dim in the lowlight and his face contoured by shadows. "sure but..." he began. "people go for the experience. they're still a part of our culture. every town needs at least one." his voice rang clear over the running water, low, with that hint of overly-enunciated vowels you loved so much.
"hm..." was your reply. the second bowl was being scrubbed of some mystery sauce and sent straight to the dishwasher for the last spoon. he cleared his throat. uh oh, here it came.
"and... our first date just needs to be at a movie theater," he spoke jokingly, watching for your reaction. his hands gripped the edge of the metal counter and his eyes stared you down for that casual dismissal you always gave. you were infinitely glad for the uniform cap shielding your flushed cheeks from view. "you're all into... classic things. movie theaters are pretty classic to me."
the last spoon was dropped into the cupboard and you closed the running tap, the water coming to an abrupt stop. you turned to max, leaning one arm against the sink and staring into his eyes. "it closes next sunday. saturday sounds pretty classic to me."
3 months. 3 months had you been turning him down. as anyone would guess, he was temporarily shocked.
whatever initial surprise max had for your sudden acceptance shown momentarily in the slight-widening of his brown eyes, the quick bat of eyelashes, and the temporary loss for words. to his credit, he recovered rather quickly. even quicker than you, who seemed to be more shocked at yourself for actually saying it than he had been for hearing it.
he cocked his head, his brain racking for a reply, and you thought for a moment that you'd completely missed the mark. you thought for a moment that max truly was nothing more than a romantically-experienced, famous "ladies' man", and that you just happened to be one of his ladies too. you thought for a moment that he was much too cool for you.
but then, with newfound coolness, he spoke. his brown eyes casted down to better meet yours and he smiled, something like... bashfulness in the lilt of his lips? "very classic."
you were going on a date with a famous youtuber.
you were going on a date with a famous youtuber, who doubled as your coworker.
you were going on a date with a celebrity in the gaming community.
and the most shocking of all? you were going on a date... with max.
no. still, you had to remind yourself: he wasn't just max, your charming, hilarious coworker, but a highly-experienced youtuber with most likely a full-time roster and many other options. until further notice—until things happened to turn blatantly romantic—all this was was friendly hanging.
he seemingly wanted you right? that's why you were on a date with him.
"did you bring the pizza?" you asked carefully when you noticed max turning the corner and get into earshot. it was around 8—he insisted that 8 was very classic for a movie theater, and you'd just parked by the entrance. max was wearing loose, light-washed jeans and a tommy hilfiger, navy shirt unbuttoned. tommy hilfiger? max was wearing tommy hilfiger? that was so uncharacteristic you had to do a double take upon seeing him. nope, he was truly wearing that brand.
he hopped onto the curb and without a word, presented the pizza box, greased through, with a shine in his eyes. he looked... new. young, buoyant, fancy. he looked more... max than before. more max in this new style rather than the pathetic pizza uniform. more max, more regular, more fitting, well, aside from the tommy hilfiger. that was so painfully un-max you almost wanted to laugh.
"you look fancy for a guy smuggling pizza into a dingy movie theater," you hummed. you yourself decided on a very casual, satin slip-dress and a wool cardigan for the august nights' fluctuating weather. your dress was light and a deep blue to match his shirt, though unplanned. you watched his eyes momentarily fall down your body before meeting yours again.
"i dress for occasion," he said in mock-haughtiness, shutting the box like it was some ancient artifact and putting it by his side. "plus, it's not like they care. smuggled pizza doesn't take away from their paycheck."
that pulled a laugh from you. "true. overpriced snacks sound worse."
you still got them though.
airhead x-tremes and skittles to be shared, one large bucket of popcorn and two slushies with a quarter of every flavor: cherry, cola, blue-raz, and lime, that ended up tasting like barf all together.
he was right. the worker didn't check—or more so, didn't exactly care—for the "smuggled", half-cold slices of pizza max held conspicuously by his side, letting you pass with ease.
it was quite obvious the theater was running off of the last of its budget. the exit sign flickered continually off and on, the area was left uncleared, and the credits ran longer than usual. they were the only ones excepting a couple and their child a few rows back.
max had booked seats in the second row. he had said something along the lines of: "if it's gonna be the last time in this theater, might as well leave with neck pain." very classic. you couldn't argue.
and so, 'pride and prejudice (2005)' started and depicted lizzy and mr. darcy at very odd angles from your chairs. that, and the cries of the kid a few rows back had max and you frequently muffling laughs through popcorn and barf-flavored slushies.
all your nerves were gone. you had depicted date-night max as some skinny-jean-wearing playboy who never paid and always mansplained your jokes. just like every other famous guy you imagined would be who finally got their hands on another girl. but, no. he was the same max, laughing at your poor jokes and shooting back witty replies.
when mr. darcy first confessed his feelings in shame and despair to elizabeth, you went quiet as to fully feel the effects of the scene. the almost-kiss, his undermining words, her brutal retaliations... max quieted with you.
and usually, you were fully immersed in this movie. you'd watched it so many times and it still had you on the edge of your seat every time. usually, you could focus on nothing but the depth and emotionality of the scene.
but max... his eyes trying to slyly watch you, gaze noticing the vacant hand on your satin-covered thigh just waiting to be held... you thought maybe... maybe he'd grab it. sure, you cared for pride and prejudice, but you were too aware of his body besides yours and his eyes on you to keep your attention focused ahead of you. his leg lightly brushed yours and you had to keep yourself from turning your head.
so, maybe he'd grab your hand and capture your lips in his and kiss you over the sound of the shitty speakers, and run his hands through your hair as the child a few rows back wailed, and bite your lip of olive-green slushy mix and tell you to leave then and there... with him... because that's what the charming, witty, smooth-talking coworker at the local pizza shop would've done. that's what the famous, ladies' man romantic would do.
he didn't do it. his hand looked so holdable, long fingers pulling at the hem of his unorthodox tommy hilfiger shirt one moment and then another resting on his bouncing a leg, another on the armrest, and another, inching towards yours...
maybe he would've, but the movie glitched out and stopped as max and you almost-touched right along with mr. darcy and lizze's almost-kiss. it made an odd sound, shone white, then shut down completely. you snapped from your stupor and looked around, max right on your tail as the lights in the theater flicked on.
he snorted. you laughed into a palm as the couple behind you begrudgingly made their sighs and forced their child up. "oh my god..." you whispered.
"looks like their budget ran out a week early," he hummed humorously, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. a hand came to his hair.
"what did we expect?" you said a tad-awkwardly. you feared the sudden change in careful sensuality to abrupt shock would create tension. there had been tension before, in the way his hand crept to yours or you inched a tad closer, but that was the good kind of tension. awkward tension was what you were scared of.
when it didn't seem max would speak as he looked around the room, you did it for him.
"i... i have it purchased on apple tv?"
and that's how you ended up back at the pizzeria, eating crappy ice cream from the half-broken machine and watching the last of pride and prejudice on your phone, propped up against the register. you both had pulled up chairs and sat side-by-side, craning your necks to watch from the tiny screen.
you didn't want to intrude on your roommates this late at night and he had a friend crashing at his place. your last resort was the dingy space behind the counter of the pizzeria, but hey, at least it came with ice cream.
and... you had thought that in that moment, things truly had happened to turn romantic. you were preparing for just a friendly night-out, but that tension entailed otherwise. so what if you were just another one of his girls when he looked at you like that? his face was too welcoming to dismiss, and you knew that if—when things would go down, it would continue here. in this spot. beside him. with neck-pain and too much sugar in your systems.
"i think he's stupid. not charming at all," max said, leaning back and rubbing at his nape to relieve some tension. you watched him and tried dismissively not to notice his handsomeness in the dim light of the moon shining through the windows. "lizzy deserves better."
"no, no," you urged back. "the whole point is that he changes for her. well, the first point is that she misunderstands him. her prejudices lead her to consider him prideful. but then, when his faults are pointed out at the first confession by her, he realizes that he can't just have her because he wants her—" yea, you were babbling, but it was pride and prejudice and you couldn't not babble about pride and prejudice. in fact, you were babbling so much you didn't notice how he sat up and smiled at the sight. "—but that he needs to work for her. he's so used to being given everything on a silver platter that it's a news flash to him when she rejects him. the point is that he recognizes his faults and instead of being hurt that she pointed them out, he decides to do something about them."
max nods slowly, like he's unsure. "either you're overthinking it, or he's just too complex."
"that's how you know he's written by a woman. men could never write a character so deep as mr. darcy...." you hummed, looking back at the movie. "it's a woman's biggest tragedy that there are no mr. darcy's of the world. because every woman wants a mr. darcy."
the mood shifted. you felt it. from casual debate and lighthearted jokes to careful thought. he felt the weight of your words and you knew it. you almost expected him to make a joke about him being a perfect mr. darcy back, but so heavily had this mood shifted that even max recognized it was no time for jokes. the movie was approaching its climax of the dawn scene. lizzy lie awake in bed in deep thought of her lover shortly after his aunt came to berate her. you noticed max watching you and looked over, but his eyes left yours to stare at the movie instead when you did so.
the music began playing. lizzy finally got from bed and began walking outside. you weren't watching. you were, instead, acutely aware of his hand resting near yours, ready to be held but still not reaching. acutely aware of his tensed body, the slight bounce of his leg, the way his chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly, a bit more ruggedly.
you clenched your ice cream so hard the cone almost broke. it was going to happen. now. mr. darcy walked into frame from the distance in the iconic picture of fog and fervency. he was going to kiss you. if not now, then never. you knew him well enough to know that if ever it would happen, it would be right then and there.
you leaned in further to the movie and tried not to notice his presence, tried to give him an in.
kiss me, your mind harped. you could feel his eyes on you, but he wouldn't... he wasn't...
mr. darcy stopped before lizzy. the music quieted. you turned your head. "max?"
it was the first time you were looking at him in such a state. and it shocked you.
he looked.... desperate. he looked.... needy. flushed, jittery, anxious... but... needy. his brown eyes were near-black in the lowlight, laced with an expression of something like dilapidation, and his contoured face was drawn and pensive. not a dust particle stirred when he looked at you like that. it shocked you. you thickly swallowed, opening your mouth to ask if he was okay.
"y/n. i'm going to kiss you," he cut you off, his hands desperately gripping his thighs as if he was holding himself back. "but— you need to tell me— if you want that. because i don't know that if you let me kiss you, i'll be able to hold myself together."
"max, what are you talking about? are you feeling alright?" he looked so red, so flushed, that you tried your best not to think about his words and you brought the back of your hand to his forehead to check for fever. perhaps he'd contracted something. that only made things worse.
as your skin met his, max shuttered. physically. shuttered. his eyes fell closed and he leaned into your touch, practically gnawing to get his hands on you. "y/n, you don't know— i need you. please— fuck."
who were you speaking to? certainly not the pizzeria max in uniform, whose first kiss with you would be all charming, something out of a movie. who would be nothing but courage and smoothness. this was not him. who was this?
"max..." you whispered. he was leaning in. your hand dropped but desperately, he grabbed at it again and put it to his cheek.
"may i kiss you?" max said more like it was a reassurance than a question. his eyes were on your lips, his body closer. your mind was spiraling, and you were a complete mess, just a tad more composed.
you liked this max more. this max, who by the awkward clash of his lips on yours and his dumbness in knowing where to put his hands, was infinitely better than whatever version you'd built of him in your head. this max, who had obviously never touched a girl before in these ways, who obviously did not know what to do, but did it anyways with a passion so true it made even you, experienced in this field, worked up.
his hand that held yours to his cheek fell and sat awkwardly on your thigh. his eyes remained open for far too long and his teeth bumped yours one too many times that you just had to pull away, something that he obviously did not want.
he leaned in further, desperate, eyes on your lips and hands reaching for your waist. "max," you tried, doing your best to snap him out of it. "max. have you ever... have you ever done this?"
he swallowed and his adam's apple bobbed, breath of chocolate ice cream fanning across your face. "no. i— once. in 7th grade. i had a girlfriend for a week and we kissed by the bleachers—..."
max looked suddenly awkward, like he knew you expected better out of him. but it only made you smile. "let me."
your second kiss was infinitely better. this time, you kissed him. this time, you leaned in, planting his hands on your waist and guiding his lips onto yours. this time, your tongue prodded his mouth open and all he could do was sit there in his nerves and breathe raggedly into the kiss with every movement, every breath. his broad hands squeezed at your hips and pulled you onto the edge of your seat, and you laughed giddily into his mouth at the suddenness with which he did so. but he wasn't thinking. he was drunk on your touch. drunk on your lips. if you pulled away, he pulled you closer. if you kissed him lighter, he kissed you deeper.
"y/n," he spoke like a prayer. then again and again, like a litany instead. "y/n. y/ny/ny/ny/n..."
max. unbelievably handsome.
max. insane charisma and a sense of humor unmatched.
and max. a total, complete idiot for your touch, a drunk for your taste, with only one girl on his mind.
@umeluvr @jiqsaww @princessseaajellie @3fellazs @liiiilsss @dykerardway @noluces @sami2180 @highmoonsworld @toyychica @izzystradlinlover @sofixicat3d @cinnamxq @cherrybeachx @amnexsiia
alright chat idk how to feel about this one 😐 lowkey highkey mid but dw i have so many requests and a good one will be thrown in there somewhere ✌️i love you guys ❤️🩹
join the discord sever or a spider will crawl into your butt tn ❤️ https://discord.gg/HRTKCQg8
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