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— 𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑺 ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦢˚. ᵎᵎ / 3 fs x fem. reader /

゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ — 𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑯

your roommate, max, finally cracks and confesses his love after you come home from a lengthy date. / based on a request /

— WARNINGS —

just a tad bit smutty + grinding

── .✦

— # 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 had you been in love with max.

max, who brought you ice cream when you were on your period. max, who hyped you up to his hundreds of thousands of subscribers. max, who treated you better than any boy you had ever chanced across could ever dream of. max, who never missed a movie night with you even if all cases scenario demanded otherwise. max. your max.

he was yours the moment you first chanced across his page. he was yours when you first saw that silly expression he took up when he laughed. he was yours through every smile, every cry, every stood-up date, and even in silly roommate fights.

he was yours, and he didn't even know it.

he was yours, and he never would know it.

no matter how many sleepless nights you spent over him, he would never know. no matter how debilitating the tension between you and him grew, he would never know. he was your plague, and the cure would never be acquired, because he could never find out that only his love would nurture you back to health.

so you stuck through every date with another boy and painted smiles onto the canvas of your lips, if it meant he wouldn't find out. so you made sure to sit a foot farther from him on movie nights and abstain from sticking your hand in the popcorn bucket lest your hands touched, if it meant he wouldn't find out.

too long had you been in love with max, and the feeling was long overstaying its welcome.

the date was new. so was the dress. so was the boy you were going to see. the restaurant as well. everything new but that average smile you stitched up.

for whatever, pathetic reason, every time you branched out and tried to find that sense of newness, you thought something would be different. that the guy would be exceptionally handsome or so chivalrous he seemed straight out of a story book, or maybe so funny he topped even max's humor. that he'd open every door for you, pay every bill, laugh at every stupid joke you'd make.

but then you'd come home to waiting desert on the table and a movie playing in the living room—then you'd hear max's voice from the kitchen or watch him as he greeted you with one of those silly smiles, and suddenly it didn't matter if the boy you dated for the evening was a prince when you had him.

suddenly, it reminded you why every month or so you branched out to find that sense of newness. because for the evening you had hope that the night would not consist of yearning for max.

but life was never that easy, and night was never so forgiving.

max was already in bed by the looks of it when you got home, as the apartment was still, the lights were off, and no noises but the occasional rustle of bedsheets came from his room. it had been another insanely successful date, and everything had been amazing down to the way he said goodnight as he saw you to your steps, inconceivably perfect, but you were ready to climb into bed and be left with your thoughts.

you kicked off your heels, groaning at the pain that shot from your feet with each step and hanging your bag on the coatrack. in the kitchen, dinner was set on the table. it was cold, obviously meant for you hours ago. as you walked up to it, you smiled, imagining your roommate in the kitchen concocting you a warm meal to come home to in case you didn't like what the restaurant had to offer. alfredo pasta, your favorite, and a cold cup of coffee beside it.

but god, was the dinner at the restaurant nice. and god, was the night perfect. as you clambered quietly into your room and hastily exchanged your dress for lounging clothes, you went over it, replaying it again and again. the way sam smiled at you when you cracked a joke, the way he understood all your references, the way he made sure to kiss your cheek and walk you to your door...

it was late, and you were much too tired to shower, leaving it up to morning y/n to do it for you. instead, you wiped your makeup off and climbed into bed as quickly as possible. now, you could really think. think that maybe you'd be getting a second date, think about how it was the first time in a while you felt free...

but was that something you even wanted? it was so good—you hadn't even thought of max once the entire evening, and he was so special... so different... but now that you had time to go over it, the same worried thoughts filled your head.

it all seemed so perfect. too perfect, like it would be ripped from your hands if you thought about it too long. as you turned to your side, staring at your wall, your thoughts shifted. it was too good to be true, and you knew it. there was an unsettling pit in your stomach telling you something would go wrong. telling you this was wrong. telling you he wasn't max.

the boy next door to you was driving you crazy, and he didn't even know it.

for some reason, as long as you had him to come home to, another boy would be out of the question. and you hated that. you hated losing sleep over him while he slept soundly in the room next to yours. you hated going over every little touch, every little look more than he ever even thought about you in general. you hated him because you loved him so much, and it was so paralyzing, and so painful.

as if on cue, a light shown from under your door, and the thin walls revealed the sound of feet planting on the ground from a bed and slowly inching across the room. you shifted onto your back again just as a notification from your phone cast the entire room in light from the screen. your hand finding the device from somewhere tangled in the sheets, you pulled it up and squinted at the blaring screen.

u up?

the text hit you like a bullet to the chest. max. you racked your brain in confusion. sure he texted you that most nights, came into your room, laid down with you, talked... but it felt so different this night, after a lengthy date. and he had seemed asleep before...

quickly, bewilderedly, you shot back a little, yea, why?

max's response was delayed, though. you stared at the screen, expecting a text bubble back, but instead, the sound of a door opening and quiet footsteps growing louder as proximity increased. your hands pushed your body into a sit, back against the headboard as you watched the door crack open.

max's lanky figure was outlined by the dim light of his room someways across from yours. his face was cast in shadows, but for whatever reason, he looked pensive; nervous, his brown eyes-turned-black in the lack of luminescence, his hair ruffled from his pillow, his expression drawn. in his grey sweatpants and large, black band shirt, he looked awkward, out of place, unorthodoxly introverted.

"max—" you stuttered in quiet shock, trying not to think about the absolute mess you looked and anxiously eyeing him. "come in." you shifted over, patting the space on the bed beside you.

max, almost hesitantly, stepped over, his feet scuffing on the rug. he crossed your room and sat apprehensively next to you, stumbling out the first words, "how was the date?" he looked worried. worried for your answer. anxious to know, like he needed your response.

"good," you said quickly, nodding your head, "it was good. great. he was— he was..." your eyes fell from his, searching for the words, not able to look him in his as you talked of another boy. "perfect. said all the right words, did all the right things..."

max's eyes glazed over, going dull. he seemed to snap out of it rather quickly, his head nodding but his eyes screaming otherwise. his hands came to his lap, playing with each other. "that— that's great, y/n. really," he spoke, "i'm glad. you deserve no less... i— i could've guessed— you came home late."

"oh, yea. he drove me to get ice cream."

max swallowed thickly. "not to our place, i hope."

you smiled apprehensively, trying to meet his eye, but being unable—unwilling to at the same time. "yea, no. why are you up this late?"

"oh— i was waiting for you. i made you— the dinner— but uhm... you... never came."

the entire conversation was awkward, out of place, unorthodox. just as awkward, out of place, and unorthodox as max was being. nowhere to be seen was that charming, witty boy you loved. now he just looked worried, dim, hurt. it was so strange to see him in such a state. you couldn't bear it. it only made you more nervous, more jittery. usually, max came in and laid beside you. you had moved over specifically for that purpose. usually, he would lay with you, look at you, be open with you. who were you speaking to?

"max— are you... okay?" you questioned lightly. he seemed to clock out instead of respond. he looked so... different.

"what—? yea— yes. i'm alright," he replied, his countenance suggesting otherwise. momentarily, his eyes slid to your lips. "i just— god, i'm glad it went well. no, you really deserve the best y/n. you— you— i'm really glad it's him. and... he's perfect— and you're perfect. it's all perfection. i just— i can't wait. you... finally found him!"

furrowing your brows, you looked at him suspiciously, "well... it's still early stages... but..."

max looked down at his hands and seemed to chuckle quietly to himself. a brief silence overtook the two of you. he looked like a shell of himself. he scared you. he was scaring you. you were trying to read him, but for the first time, you couldn't. for the first time, he wasn't immediately telling you the thoughts that came to his mind. what was happening?

you were thinking about speaking, when, abruptly, he started, getting to his feet. "i should... goodnight, y/n."

you watched him with panic in your chest, not even managing to choke out a "night" as he turned languidly on his heel and began the way to your door. your eyes followed him, then looked down to your fidgeting hands, wondering why he even came if he was just going to leave so soon.

but he didn't leave.

no. max made it to the door, sure, but his hand had barely grazed the knob before he turned languidly around and looked at you with an expression of surrender, an expression of something close to uncaring, but so violently caring at the same time.

"was it ever going to be me?" he asked simply.

you choked on your words. what could that possibly mean? but before you could even open your mouth to ask...

"was i ever even an option, y/n?"

"what do you mean?" you breathed in slight discomfort, shaking your head. "i don't...—"

"i just— i need to know. before i leave this room, i need to know if i was ever even considered. if before sam or marcus or alex, there was ever a me? if maybe you ever thought me more than your— your— idiot roommate—"

"max—" you pulled the sheets off of yourself, your feet swinging off of the bed but your body remaining on the edge.

"because— god— you didn't even— i was waiting. is it really him?"

"max—" you tried again, "what are you doing?— i mean— if you're asking if i liked you, then yes— maybe once... but it was silly— and i'm over it—"

max shook his head with a sarcastic laugh. it's like he gave up right then and there, his eyes falling to the ground. "maybe once," he repeated below his breath.

"max can you tell me what the fuck is going on?" you said seriously, now getting to your feet.

"i would've thought—" he choked out, shifting, "because—"

"for god's sake, max! what is this?! what are you doing— what are you saying!? why are you being like this right now?!" your voice increased as your stress did. he was shutting down on you. you couldn't bear this. you couldn't stand his mystery, his enigmatic questioning.

"is it sam?" he pried over your voice, his body slacking. he looked like he had given up. like he had no fight left in him. accepting. you went quiet. "tell me. is it him. because i love you. and i have. and i will. and if you don't, if you don't love me, or if it's someone else and you want to keep dating around— tell me right now. tell me so i can stop hoping. tell me so i don't cook you dinner and sit at that damn table like a pathetic loser, watching it grow cold as the woman i love, the woman i made it for, goes to get ice cream with someone else! tell me if i need to give up now or if there's some window of hope. some love left in you. is it sam?"

you gaped at him quietly, unbelieving that this was happening. that max was standing in front of you at 12 a.m., desperately confessing his love for you, desperately awaiting your response after you had just gone on a perfect date with the most perfect man alive. your heart flickered with an ineffable emotion of genuine, pure shock, profound love. he was looking at you. he was looking at you. like he needed you. like he couldn't take anyone else. your mouth fell open to formulate a response, but all you could do was sit there gaping like a fish, eyes wide, body in a tremor.

"i— max—"

"is. it. sam."

"no." you swallowed thickly, your head shaking rapidly. you weren't going to give half-assed responses, because when it came to max, he was always your option. "no. it was never sam. it was— no. it was you. it was always going to be..."

you didn't finish your sentence because that was all max needed to hear. you didn't even need to. as the dust settled and your response was given, he was already advancing towards you, and you already knew exactly where this was going.

like a madman, his lips found yours, latching there, drinking you in, his hands falling to your waist and pulling your hips into his. it was nothing leisure. nothing slow or soft. that could be saved for another time. right now, he needed to drink you up, he needed to kiss you until he couldn't any longer. he needed you.

his lips slid perfectly against yours, his tongue immediately delving into your mouth like it was his territory, like he had done it a million times before. your body shut down and blew up at the same time, a kaleidoscope of one million thoughts and feelings flashing before your shut eyes as his hands perfectly felt up your body and his lips perfectly clashed and breathed and fought against yours like they'd only do in your dreams. you felt like you were on fire as you two stood there, fueled by the unkempt and hidden love both had harbored.

his fingers latched onto the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin beneath as he backed you quickly to the bed. max's lips only detached from yours when absolutely necessary, and even then his eyes remained where he needed you most and that lovesick, drunken expression in his face stunning you into further hungriness.

"max—" you gasped as his lips found your neck, found your collarbone, found every place every other man had found as well, except kissing it with lips ten times sweeter, nipping at all your weak spots with teeth ten times sharper, like he knew every crevice of you. like he knew exactly which spots to linger over and which spots to ravish in. your hands twisted into the sheets beside your shoulders, head thrown back. "max, please—"

"max, hmm?" he breathed against your skin, his words a shock of paralysis down your spine. god did he love it when you said his name like that, airily, desperately. so much so, he couldn't help grinding the bulge in his pants against where you needed him most.

a sigh pranced from the edge of your lips, and compliantly, you pushed your hips down against him, a soft moan riding out from your tongue as your back arched into his chest. he watched your face contort, your eyes fall closed, one hand desperately anchoring you, twisting in the sheets, the other trying to pull the waistband of his sweats off. and it only fueled him more.

"fuck. what are you doing to me," he grunted, his lips hastily capturing yours again. your head was spinning off the rails, and though you wanted to kiss him, the way he was pushing his cock, straining through his sweats into your aching core disabled you from doing so. when he did that to you, your head couldn't help falling back and your body couldn't help flailing erratically, your lips disconnecting from his. and it was the cutest thing max ever saw.

"max— fuck— please, just—"

"gladly."

safe to say there was never a second date. with sam, at least.

#—𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

.. a/n -

hi queen @theyluvmils ! i hope you love the final fic as much as i do! i added a little spice and plot and ik i cut the spice a little short but i will make up for it 💔 feeling freakeh tonight 😛😛

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