So Cliché ⚪ Chapter six: busy
Femcrewmember!reader x Damien Haas.
Summary: you get hired to the Smosh team as their new creative director. Despite you being younger than most other members, you are unbelievably competent and control every project with ease. Despite your best efforts, you seem to be falling for a cast member.
Warnings: massive overworking, taking on too much responsibility and work-related stress. depictions of exhaustion and generally bad habits revolving work/life balance. and some fluffy scenes of Damien swooping in to save the day.
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You were working way too much.
You were well aware of it, but unfortunately that didn't steer you off your direct path towards burnout. As the weeks of October rolled into November: your workload only got heavier.
Not only that, but you were also taking on too many other projects and tasks. Like helping Spencer create a Christmas themed scavenger hunt for all of December's videos. Like offering Ian to figure out the scheduling conflicts for the next two weeks. Like accepting Angela and Amanda's pleas to help organize this year's Secret Santa, Christmas party AND office decoration day.
You were taking on way too much, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to be everywhere at once, to be a part of everything and to put your touch on anything that moved in the office.
It was inevitable, it was a multitude of bad habits that were all sneaking up on you. They were thought to be left behind in your college days, yet here they were, weighing down your shoulders.
Yesterday morning, you had rushed in right on time and directly into Ian's office for a long meeting. That's where you'd offered to lend a hand with the various scheduling conflicts that he had run into when setting up a number shoots for the next two days.
You'd left that meeting, and gotten straight to it, burying yourself away in your office. Angela had snuck by with a yogurt, a banana and a cup of coffee. You´d kissed her cheek in appreciation.
You barely managed to make a dent in the schedules, and the stack of paperwork that was due for the week, before you were pulled into a three hour shoot with the games channel. You supervised Spencer, Amanda and Angela while they played a new horror game that had just come out. In the shadows behind the cameras, you felt the exhaustion creep up your spine in cold strokes. You shook it off and rolled out your shoulders.
In the refuge of the very few scheduled breaks, Angela would sneak up on you. She´d curl into your side and strike up conversation about virtually anything. You quickly caught onto how she skirted around anything involving work. Of course she noticed, you hadn't ever doubted that she would. You knew that your dark undereyes still peeked out from under the thick layer of concealer. It also hadn't gone unnoticed that your presence was permanently missing from every common area.
She, like everyone else, quickly caught the way that you had habitually started lingering while everyone else packed up their stuff. Whenever someone would dare to ask you what time you tended to leave, you'd lie yourself one or two hours earlier than the truth.
As the weeks passed on, you were forming a dangerous pattern. You were aware of it, you told yourself that it was a temporary routine. That once the workload has died down, you´d chill out.
You weren't sure when you would be able to live up to that promise. Although “if” might be a better word to use.
You ended that day back in your office again, curled up into your chair with a blanket wrapped around you. You had an empty can of sugar free redbull on your desk, next to two unopened and ice cold ones.
Your dinner was in the fridge, you had a supply of semi-healthy snacks. You were good for the night, and you felt fairly certain that you´d make a pretty good dent in the workload that was waiting for you.
The office was quickly emptying out, and you didn't really look up until Angela snuck in through your door. She slips her way behind your chair, sliding her arms around your neck to rest her cheek on your shoulder.
“you need a break” she mumbles into the hood of your hoodie, “you are the first to arrive and the last to leave, every single goddamn day”
Your heartstrings tug at the concern, and you reach up to squeeze her forearm. “thank you Ange, but i´m fine, i promise”
She hesitates, and you continue, “there's just a lot for us to do right now, so much planning and scheduling”
“you say ´us´, but i only see you in here” she retorts, and all you can do is hum in amusement. Unfortunately she's right, she got you and there is no sneaking around that fact.
You squeeze her again, trying to reassure her. “i have the weekend off, i will recharge my batteries then, i promise”
She remains quiet behind you.
“im okay sweets, i promise”
She lingers, and you let her. But eventually you´re the last one in the building again, and you´re fighting to stay awake at your desk.
Every night, when you´re finally able to unlock your front door, you go straight to bed. Without you really noticing, work is slowly becoming the only thing you do. You work until the late hours of the night, then you go home and head straight to bed, only to get up the next morning and do the same thing all over again.
You finally manage to get the scheduling conflicts wrangled, and Ian was practically worshipping at your altar in appreciation. You bask in the praise of your effort, and it does lift your energy level. At least until you have two consecutive four hour shoots, first with the games channel and then with bitcity.
Angela is extra cuddly, compensating for the fact that you are obviously working on half your usual energy level. Whenever there is a short break, she's hanging at your wrist or curling up at your side.
It's nice, and it actually does help soothe your obviously frazzled nerves.
The day ends the exact same way once more. You tucked away in your office with a dull dinner in the fridge and multiple caffeine sources at your desk.
You're typing away, switching between ideas for Spencer's Christmas project, and then back to the schedule for December. Trying to squeeze holiday traditions in between long shoots and personal vacations. You had resolved the big screw up that Ian had produced for November´s schedules. But you still needed to set up all of December from scratch.
Your shoulders were aching, licking burns up the back of your neck and settling as a nasty headache. Your body was begging you to drive home and give yourself the rest you so desperately craved.
Your music was blasting in your headphones, in effort to keep you awake for as long as possible. If you were going to be working this late, the results had to make sense. There was no way you were sacrificing sleep and personal time for long pages of downright gibberish.
You don't notice the moment you're no longer alone. You don't hear the door slam, don't hear the footsteps down the hall. You don't notice someone standing in the doorway to your office, until you see the shift of movement out of the corner of your eye and you let out an embarrassingly loud scream.
You rip the headphones out of your ears and turn towards the door fully, hand on your chest. “What the hell are you doing?” you ask him, heart pounding away.
He tries his best to hide his laugh, his hands still up in a mock defense.
“i didn't mean to scare you”
He tilts his head at the bite in your voice. Your heart clenches, you haven´t seen Damien all week and when you finally do, you bite his head off.
“I'm sorry, I'm just tired” you tell him, running your hands down your face. It seems performative in the moment, but it also feels amazing to your tired eyes.
“i know, that's actually why i´m here”
You stare at him, completely confused as to where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”
He leans against your doorframe, “you have done absolutely nothing but work for the past three, almost four, weeks. You're not sleeping enough and you're definitely not taking time to just relax and enjoy yourself”
He rattled everything off matter-of-factly, not leaving much space for complaining or defending. You raise an eyebrow at him, “i´m off all weekend, i just need to finish this stuff up and ill be done”
He gives you a skeptical look, “do you have a deadline for tonight?”
You sigh deeply, “no, but it really is for the best if its all done before the weekend-”
He's challenging you. The thrill of it shoots sparks through your bloodstream, waking you up in a way that coffee and energy drinks hadn't been able to for weeks.
He finally pushes off the door. “i brought you dinner, like actual human food that tastes good, and it's hot”
Your mouth waters slightly at the prospects of a proper meal, but you elect not to show it. You're not sure if you want him to win just yet.
“i think that you should stop for tonight, and then i think you should come outside in the fresh air and eat some dinner with me”
Your stomach swoops, this time it's hard to act like the offer isn't tempting. You feel yourself waiver between stubbornness and giving into the sweetness of a break.
As you consider he speaks up again, “look i´m not trying to overstep any boundaries here, but I haven't seen you all week because you've been cooped up in here. If whatever you're doing doesn't even have a deadline, then i´m sure you can take a break from it, but i wont push it”
Your heart breaks at the earnest dip in his voice, at the fact that he doesn't just come waltzing in here to close your computer and drag you outside. Like always, he's respectful and patient. And it kills you to feel the electricity that buzzes through you.
You look into his eyes for a moment, and then you close the lid of your laptop.
Damien somehow convinces you to leave all of your work stuff behind, officially declaring your weekend a work free zone. No computer, no calendars, no notebooks, no work phone.
The second you step outside and into the cool night air, you instantly feel much better. The air nips at your cheeks and nose a little, it wakes up your mind. Sharpens it.
The two of you sit on the hood of his car, as he splays out a picnic-esque dinner for you. He's picked up your favorite take out, and some sort of fancy lemonade from Traders Joes. He hands you a greasy Styrofoam box full of savory udon noodles, glazed over with a thick yakisoba sauce.
The food tastes amazing, and you´re almost dizzy with how much you've missed eating a meal like a normal person and not while you're hunched over your desk. You reach over to squeeze his wrist in your hand, “thank you Damien”.
He smiles at you, that sweet boyish kind that makes your knees weak. You're grateful that you're sitting down.
He excitedly takes control of the conversation, telling you about his week and what he's been up to. You feel guilty for not having seen him all week long, and you lap up every detail that he provides.
He tells you about the videos he´s done the past ten days, about his streams and the food he's cooked. He tells you about his cats, and that he'd taught them both a new trick.
You almost choke up at how domestic the whole situation feels, how natural it is to sit here and knock elbows as you eat.
Damien tries to learn what you´ve been up to, but you tell him very honestly that it's all been a blur.
“Do you always do this? get into these trances with work?”
You consider how much you want to tell him, but the soft look in his eyes makes you crumble instantly. “It's a bad habit of mine, I get so caught up in what I'm doing, in always keeping up and making sure everything goes well. I think I'm also a little addicted to seeing how far i can push myself, there's something satisfying in seeing myself balance all of these things”
He considers what you tell him for a second, “I totally get that, I really do. But I hope that you know it's not sustainable, you can't keep this up forever”
You nod, begrudgingly. “yeah i know “
Usually, you tend to keep your faults to yourself. You were an inherently stubborn person, and splaying your vices out for others to consider and evaluate, felt like torture. You much preferred to act like you weren't affected by your bad habits.
It wasn't because you actually felt unaffected by said habits, but you felt uncomfortable when people would take it upon themselves to scold you for it. You also struggled to keep yourself from pointing out the irony of their own poor habits.
But there was no judgement from Damien, not even a little. He showed his concern but he also knew you were a grown adult who could take care of themself.
Usually the judgement came from those older yourself, and Damien did fall into that category. You didn't really think much about the age difference on a normal day to day basis. Six years weren't a lot, but it was still a difference.
There's a silence for a moment, and you quickly decide that you want to be the one to fill it. “I have the whole weekend off though. I'm going to relax and actually get some rest”
He smiles at you, “that sounds really nice”
You nod at him, returning the smile.
You can't believe that you've barely seen him in the last ten days, you've had to abandon your breakfast and lunch ritual in favor of always being on the move.
As you sit there on the hood of his cars, you feel the weight of the entire week wash over you. The exhaustion hits you like a tidal wave, and suddenly everything and anything seems like a task that's too big for you to handle.
You rub your hands over your face, digging your palms into the sockets of your eyes and taking great pleasure in the slight burn.
It's the first time you'd actually said it out loud. You lean back a little, to rest your back for just a short moment.
You shake your head, “i drove here”
“It's the weekend, your car will be fine here. I'll come get you Monday morning and drive you here” the gentle authority in his voice sent unexpected shivers down your spine. You were surprised and a little embarrassed at how willing you were to obey whatever he said.
“okay, that would actually be really nice, thank you Damien”
The two of you pack up the leftovers of your dinner, he gently holds your wrist to help you down from the hood of his car. To top that off, he opens the door for you and closes it behind you. He slips into his own side, and you gulp at how wide his shoulders are compared to the driver's seat.
You look out the window, trying to ignore the desire to reach out and touch. He reaches over and turns on the seat warmer for you. You feel your eyelids grow heavier as the heat seeps into your skin.
In this moment, settled in his care, you feel taken care of, for the first time in a really long while. You had to stop yourself from tearing up. You had been single for so long, and had virtually handed everything by yourself for the last few years.
Every workaholic period, every flu, every bad period, every soul crushing moment had been handled by yourself. You were good at it, taking care of yourself.
You could always depend on you. You always grocery shopped before you ran out, always filled up the tampons, always did the laundry, always remembered to stock up on cold medicine.
You were the most dependable person in your own life, and that was a comfort. You weren´t lonely, not even a little bit.
But this? having someone take care of dinner, someone to clean up after and someone to drive you home. That felt nice, safe, comforting.
You feel your heart ache. A deep kind of ache that you hadn't felt in a really long time. If ever.
You lean your head against the window, and turn your neck to look at him. You hope he doesn't notice the way you're staring at him. But the pure exhaustion makes it a little hard to care. It blurs the lines of inhibition.
Your gaze lingers at the way the street lights cast a golden blur around his silhouette, flickering from light post to light post as his car trails down the road. One hand is on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, making his bicep bulge in a way that's hard to drag your eyes off.
He's wearing dark colored pants, and a soft sweater over a t-shirt. He looks so safe, so warm and gentle.
"you're staring” his voice breaks you out of your trance. You blush a little, but you don't look away.
He makes a right turn down your street, and you feel a sense of disappointment at the night coming to an end so quickly. He parks his car in the spot that you coincidentally usually put your own.
You don't get out of the car immediately, and he doesn't ask you to.
“Are you sure you're gonna be okay?” he hesitates, eyes flickering over your face to read your mood, “or are you gonna work until you hate all of us and burn the office down in a blind rage?”
The joke pulls a raspy laugh out of you, and it's the first time you've properly laughed all week. “nah im good, i think im gonna bedrot all weekend and then make an attempt at what the experts call - self control-”
He scoffs sarcastically, "you're just gonna lay in bed all weekend? you´re not gonna draw a buttermilk bath and fill it with rose petals and diamonds?”
You giggle, “oh god, a bath sounds so unbelievably good right now”. You look back at him, and ask him what he´s gonna be up to all weekend.
He draws in a deep breath, turning his head to look out of the windshield dramatically, “oh you know… just the usual, solve world hunger, save a cat from a tree, carry an old lady out of a burning building”
You can't help the uncontrollable giggle that comes out of you, you are beyond tired. The kind of tiredness that makes it hard to control your laughter, and Damien is eating it up, clearly fueled by the ridiculous noise.
He continues, “you know, the usual, might sneak in a sourdough bread if I'm feeling lazy”
“if you do, you have to share”
There´s a comfortable silence that settles over you like a blanket. “Actually I'm also not working this weekend. Gonna follow your lead and just relax for once”
You can't help but send him a skeptical look, Damien is not the kind of person who ever remains still. "Oh really?"
He feigns hurt, reaching over to tickle your side with his index finger. You shriek, sinking further into your seat to avoid him. He squeezes your knee instead, and lets his hand drop into his lap.
The two of you longer, small-talking for a lot longer than you should considering the time of day, before you slip out of his car and into the shadows.
When you shut your front door behind you, you finally feel just a little lighter.
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