#damienhaasxreader

Damien Haas x reader

Word Count: 1468

Warnings: Chronic illness mentioned (POTS), lightly edited so don't sue me.

Description: Based on this request! After you push yourself, triggering an episode, Damien comes home and helps you to bed, reminding you that you have to take care of yourself. 

Author’s Note: I did choose Damien, I just felt the prompt flowed better with him in consideration (Trust I loveee Spencer but this prompt just felt more Damien coded). I also want to mention that I did enlist the help of a good friend, as they do have knowledge about POTS and were able to help give me pointers and correct me. Thanks bro!

The floor had very quickly become your best friend. You had gotten too ambitious, thought you could commit and be fine, but your body decided it didn’t want to cooperate. The smartwatch on your wrist buzzes impatiently with a high heart rate warning. As you lay on the floor, trying to make the world stop spinning, you realize that Damien would be home soon, and you’d have to explain, and disappoint him by explaining that you neglected resting when you needed to, and pushed yourself too far. You hadn’t passed out, but you knew if you tried to stand, you’d end up right back where you currently laid. 

Accepting that he would just have to be disappointed, you stayed put, eyes closed, trying to remember where you had left your Gatorade. You wonder if you could muster enough strength to crawl towards it. Since the world still feels too spinny to even think about opening your eyes to look for it, you decide against it. 

Freyja meows as she wanders up to you, head butting your arm. You feel the pressure of one paw, then two, then three as she climbs onto you. Damien’s cat walks up your torso, headbutting your chin twice before settling into loaf form on your chest.

You smile softly as Freyja begins to purr. Now, even if you felt better enough to move, Freyja wasn’t going to let you get up. You accept your fate, letting yourself tune into the purrs of the cat on your chest. Uncontrollably, your hands shake, and you pet the purring creature on your chest, trying to control yourself. 

After not too long, you hear the door to the apartment as Damien comes home. “Y/n?” he calls out, and you open your eyes to watch him come into the kitchen. Quickly, you close them again. The motion wasn’t as bad as before, but it was still too much to even try to make sense of the world spinning around you, simply feeling it was enough.

“Kitchen,” you call out. Freyja meows, headbutting your chin again, unhappy with you not petting her anymore. You hear the shuffle of him moving around, putting down his bag and keys.

“Y/n,” he softly says, and you can tell he’s in the kitchen. Once again, you try to open your eyes. Damien walks over, sitting on the floor next to you. He looks disappointed, and guilt suddenly punches a hole in your chest. “Sweetheart…”

“I’m okay,” you lie as he takes your shaky hand. “I just overdid it a little.” Freyja stands, meowing as she wanders over to Damien, brushing into his knee. He gives her a quick scratch under the chin. “Freyja helped me feel better, I just didn’t want to risk passing out and getting hurt. So the floor became a friend.”

He nods. “What have you been doing today?” 

Slowly, you start to sit up. Timing is everything, sitting up too fast would only cause more issues, and you weren’t wanting to take any risks of that. Damien helps, and you lean back against the counter, the knob of the cabinet brushing your side as you situate yourself. For a moment longer, you keep your eyes closed. Too much motion would put you right back on the cold linoleum.

“I did laundry, cleaned up a little in the living room, and I was just now doing dishes. I was going to rest again and call it a day after I finished them, but I didn’t get that far,” You explain, your face turning red with embarrassment. 

“Were you resting between everything?” he asks sweetly, taking your hand again. 

You think for a second. “Only between the laundry and cleaning the living room,” you sheepishly admit. Recalling the day was hard in the moment, and even just trying to talk about it made you tired. You majorly overdid it, and you feared it would have an effect on you for the next few days. Mentally, you note that you’d have to talk to crew and see how things could be shuffled around to accommodate call times. 

“What did you eat today?” he asks, reaching over you and grabbing the Gatorade from the counter above your head, unscrewing the cap and handing it to you. “Drink.”

You nod, and take a long sip as you try to recall what you had eaten today. “Um… I had some cereal this morning, and some chips after I switched the laundry, while I was resting.”

“Darling, you have to eat more than that,” he softly reminds you. He stands up, looking at you. “Do you feel okay to stand now? We should move to the couch, it’ll be more comfortable.”

“Beanbag,” you request. You loved the couch, but right now you wanted something a bit more plush. “And just one minute.”

He nods. “Okay, stay there, I’ll be back to help you in a moment.” His tone is stern, and you know it’ll only upset him more if you try to be independent in this moment and move on your own. He disappears from the kitchen, and you stay,

leaned against the counter, sipping your Gatorade. It helped enough, and when you check your heart rate on your watch, it’s gone down.

It only took a few moments before Damien comes back into the kitchen, walking over to you and offering his hands to help you up. Once up, he keeps a hold of your hand, leading you into the living room. Every few seconds, he looks back at you, watching for something to happen. You smile at him, his concern for you endearing. When you reach the living room, you look in the corner, where your giant beanbag lived. 

Damien had taken a moment to set the corner up for you. He had brought your favorite pillow, blanket, and a few of your favorite plushies out of the other room. Cutely, he had set up one of your bunnie plushies to hold your switch, looking as if the plushie was playing on the console. He gauges your expression, and you smile, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest. “Thank you.” 

He lets out a chuckle as he hugs you back, petting your hair softly. “Of course,” he coos softly. “I’ll lay with you in a moment, but you should lay down, sweetheart.” You look up at him and nod, moving to lay down. “Where did you leave your cup, my love?”

“Might be in the laundry room? I was carrying it around with me earlier,” You reply, starting to move the blanket over you. 

“I’ll check, but let me help.” Without a moment of hesitation, he reaches for the blanket, taking it and holding it up, finding the corners and lightly laying it over you. “I would tuck you in, but then I couldn’t join you, and I don’t want to make you get all wavy and icky.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Hurry back to me please?” He nods, then rushes towards the laundry room, making motorcycle noises.  

He rushes back out of the laundry room, holding your favorite tumbler cup. Motorcycle noises continue, and he untwists the cap as he turns into the kitchen. You hear the ice machine on the fridge, then the Brita filter from the fridge. Damien’s motorcycle noises continue from the kitchen, and a few seconds later, he turns back into the living room, walking over to you as he tightens the lid to the water bottle. A tires squealing sound comes from Damien as he hands you a cup. 

You take a few sips, then hand it back, smiling. He sets it on the night table before laying next to you on the giant bean bag. “How do you feel?” he asks, moving some of the hair from your face.

“Better,” you say, guilt settling in as you remember him looking at you when he came into the kitchen and found you earlier. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asks. “There’s no need to be sorry, you didn’t do anything.”

“I forgot to eat,” you say. “I wasn’t taking care of myself so now you have to, I feel helpless.”

He takes your face into his hands gently, shaking his head. “Nope, stop that,” he shushes lightly. “You are not helpless. Somedays, you need my help, and that has never, and will never, be something to apologize for. I love you very much, and I’ll take care of you every single minute of every day. If that's what you need, I’ll always be here.”

“I love you,” You say after a moment, speechless. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” He smiles, taking his phone from his pocket. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

Damien Haas x reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, choking, hair pulling, Dom!damien, penetration, fem and masc oral (both receiving and giving), all the sex things idk what you want from me. High sex

Description: Damien x stoner!fem!reader, what more is there to say?

Author’s Note: Once again finding my ass in the library. Super rushed run through of an edit because my phone is about to die and the library is about to close, so if I forgot to switch any moments from first person to second person I’m sorry! Enjoy tho!

It felt unreal, like the scene of a music video. The waves of your high wash over you as you look around the room, head swiveling as you took in the surroundings of his room. Low lights, tapestries, the red silk comforter on the perfectly made bed. You giggle at yourself, feeling the sheets lazily as you imagine how messed up the bed would momentarily become. 

There was something sweet about the way he moved over you, propping himself up on his elbow as he sunk between your legs, the light pressure of his bare torso pressing into yours. His forehead brushes yours, bringing you to focus on the man in front of you. Damien looks down at you, a slight look of worry on his face. “Are you okay?” You nod at him, a smile on your face.

Consent is something the two of you take very seriously, and before anything had happened, while completely sober, the two of you had made sure that what would happen was with full consent, and that, as always, that consent could be revoked at any time, from either side. Partaking in smoking was something he doesn’t do, but he did have a drink while you smoked on the patio. 

Once that consent was agreed upon, the game began. The making out on the couch and the light, gentle groping had led to the bedroom, which you had seen in full sobriety, but the mood was different now, but in a more attractive way, oddly enough. 

The way his lips hit your neck sends a shiver down your spine as he gently kisses towards your ear, his free hand resting gently on your hip, the hem of your shirt dancing between his fingers. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” His voice is low and deep in your ear, almost a growl of attraction. A ripple down your spine continues as he nibbles lightly at your ear before working back down to your neck, the kisses and nibbles painting your neck with small, light grey marks that you would probably regret letting him do tomorrow. Right now, you wanted nothing more than for him to sink his teeth into your neck. You wanted to be marked by him, as if he was branding you, showing that he owned you. 

You bite your lip at a rougher bite, a shock of pain making you let out an involuntary wince. He immediately pulls away. “I’m sorry,” he says, concern across his face. “Are you okay?”

You nod, the pain washing over you in a wave of pleasure. “Yes, that wasn’t the sound I was trying to make.”

He smiles slightly, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. “Shall we continue then?” His voice dripped with seduction, and you nod, reaching down to start pulling up your shirt. 

Without skipping another beat, he helps you out of your shirt, and moves you to sit up more against the headboard. He goes back to his original position between your legs and propped up on one arm. He stares down at your breast, and you swear for a moment that he was about to drool. 

Gently, he moves back into your neck, the kisses now trailing from your neck, down to your collarbone, down to your breast. He kisses around where he can, nibbling lightly at the exposed skin. His free hand wraps around to your back, and in a swift, and fairly attractive sweep, you feel the pop of your bra being unclasped. He pulls the fabric away, kissing around the newly exposed skin as he tosses aside the bra. Your hand meets his nape, playing with his hair as he takes your right nipple into his mouth, sucking on it as his hand trails down to your shorts. It takes little time before his hand is in the waistband of your pants, impatiently feeling and finding your folds. A moan escapes your lips, and you shyly bite your lip as his middle and pointer finger gently tease around your body. 

Another moan presses against your lip, and he pulls away from your nipple, kissing across your skin to the other breast. “Let me hear you,” he says, his voice vibrating against your skin as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same treatment as the other side, his fingers lightly exploring below your waistline. You let out another moan as your hands move to impatiently squirm out of your shorts and underwear. Damien notices and stands up, yanking down your shorts, tossing them aside and to the floor before he takes off his own, moving back to his spot on the bed, floating above you. His shirt had been ditched back in the living room, some of the marks you had imprinted on him more prominent.

He continues to play around your folds teasingly. You buck your hips into his hand, wanting more. You feel him smirk against your skin as he kisses down your breasts and to your stomach. Looking up at you, his eyes look almost black. “Tell me what you want beautiful.” As he talked, his fingers find your clit, lightly pressing on it, shocks of pleasure rippling through you. He was so close, and he knew it. He was playing a game. The pressure increased as he stares up at you, slowly applying more pressure. 

“Whatever you want to do,” You manage to gasp out. He shakes his head, moving back up to look at your face to face.

“I want to do a lot of things, what do you want?”

For a moment, you think, pulling him in to kiss. His knee finds its way between your legs, his hand moving away from your entrance. You grind against his knee and thigh, and he pulls from the kiss, looking at you with slight shock and amusement.

“Needy needy,” He laughs, deeply. “Just tell me what to do.”

You whimper as you grind harder. “You, I just, want you inside of me,” Your voice is thick with need. “Fingers, tongue, dick, I don’t care.” You look him in the eyes, your forehead pressing into his. “I want you to use me.” 

He kisses you again, pressing his knee into you as his greed overtakes him, his kisses rough as he bites at your lips and his tongue entangles with yours. The interaction makes you breathless as he moves down to your chin, then neck, then breasts again. His mouth switches back and forth against your nipples as his hand finds its way towards your entrance, rubbing against your clit and in your slick before forcibly being shoved inside of you. You gasp, letting out a loud moan. It embarrasses you slightly, such a small move causing such a reaction. Damien loves it, however, as he begins pumping the two fingers in and out of you as his mouth continues to mark up your chest. He adjusts, moving down more, his fingers staying in you as he kisses down your body, resting just at your hips. He looks up at you as you squirm, a third finger slowly stretching you as it finds its spot inside of you, next to the others. 

“Is this okay?” He asks against your skin, and you nod, your hands gripping to the bedding, bracing yourself as his face goes down between your legs. He peppers your inner thighs with more nibbles and kisses, before kissing right above your clit, which he massaged with his thumb. The way he molded you in his hands like Playdoh makes you squirm, waves of euphoria flashing over you in waves as you grind into his fingers. He moves his thumb, and you feel his tongue press into your clit. You shiver as he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, sucking on it. Seeing you in such a state of pleasure makes him let out a light moan, one that vibrates your clit and sends another wave of simulation rolling through you. 

His tongue plays at your entrance as he continues to move his fingers in and out of you, curving and twisting them, each new move making you squirm into him more. Each shiver and each movement of pleasure turns him on more and more, his cock growing harder. Slowly, he removes each finger, leaving you whining with anticipation for what was next. His tongue continues to dance around you, lapping up the juices against your folds. In a sudden movement, his tongue slides into your entrance. The sucking motion of his mouth against the entrance, and his tongue dancing inside of you sends your head flying back in pleasure as a loud moan escapes your lips. One of your hands moves from the sheets to his hair, tugging slightly as he moves his tongue in and out of you, folding it and unfolding it as he sucks up whatever juices come out of you. He pulls away for a moment, and looks up at you, pure adoration and infatuation in his eyes and expression. 

“God you taste so fucking good.”

Before you can react, he moves back in, continuing to suckle and eat you out as you sputter in pleasure. “Fuck, Damien,” the words sound weaks coming out of your mouth, the pleasure almost crippling. “I’m going to cum.”

A hum of approval shakes your core as he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you deeper into his face, looking up at you as his motions deepen, and grow faster. You stare into his eyes until you can’t handle it anymore, your head falling against the headboard as your eyes roll back, your orgasm rushing over you, Damien sucking up every drop. You grip his hair a little tighter for a moment before letting it go, the orgasm, leaving you momentarily weak as you try to catch your breath. 

Damien settles you back into the bed, a grin on his face as he wipes his chin. His lips meet yours, gentle, and tasting yourself on his lips energizes you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You smile up at him. Lightly, you start to sit up, your hand resting on his chest and lightly pushing him to lay back. “What are you trying to do?”

You smirk at him. “Return to favor.” He leans back against the headboard,

and you move between his legs, taking his stiff, veiny cock into your hand. You pump up and down, placing a small kiss on his red and swollen tip. He lets out a breathy moan, looking down and watching as you lick slightly at the tip. You move down to the base, and lick from the base to the tip. You gather a pool of spit into your mouth as you suction around his tip, the saliva coating his tip. Relaxing your throat, you move your hand to his sack and begin to massage as you take his length to the back of your throat. His hips buck into your face, and he squirms and moans as you play with him, bobbing your head up and down on his length, hollowing out your cheeks. His hand finds your hair, gripping on it and pushing down slightly. 

His cock twitched in your mouth, and you pause, the entire length encased in your mouth. You move your tongue around the tip, precum sliding down your throat as his dominance kicks back into overdrive.

“Swallow it.” he moans, his voice serious and deep. You continue to bob your

head, massaging his balls as you continue to move your mouth across his length. Eventually, his load shoots into the back of your throat, almost choking you. Slowly, you pull away from his cock, a bead of spit trailing from your lips to his tip. He looks down at you, hand still entangled in your hair. “Good girl.”

The praise sends a shock to your core as you move up to look at him face to face, moving to straddle him. He looks up at you, a smile on his face. You bite your lip as his member brushes against your entrance. “Fuck, Damien please.”

He reaches down, guiding his dick against your entrance, teasingly. You move to try and sit on it, and he dodges your impatience for a moment before he lines himself up. His hands find your hips and guide you onto his cock. You wince, adjusting to his length as you sit down, taking his entire length into you, his tip hitting your cervix. 

He moves his hips, and you sit back, grinding as you hold onto his chest. He moves in a way that he can buck his hips, sending you bouncing up and down. A chorus of moans from the two of you fill the room, and you let out a yelp as he flips the two of you over, moving for him to take over on top. “On your knees,” He demands, and you flip over, moving onto your knees and balancing yourself with both hands. His cock teases at your entrance for a moment before he pulls you back onto him, forcing himself into you, the tip hitting the cervix as he pumps in and out of you, leaving you a moaning mess, scrambling to grip the sheets as he mercilessly pounds into you. His free hand moves up your back, finding its way to your hair. Grabbing a fistful, he pulls on it, and you moan, the action sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. He pulls and you follow him up. He sits back as you sit up into his lap, pressing him into you as much as you can. His hand moves from your hair and grabs around your neck. 

“You like that?” You nod, whimpering a mod as he continues to pound in and out of you. “Fuck you’re so hot.”

You bite your lip and look back at him the best you can. His grip on your throat, the praise, just, him. You were deeply in love with this man. “I love you.” You say.

His pumps get softer as he leans in and gives you a light kiss on the lips. “I love you too,” he says, then keeps moving. “Fuck, I think I’m going to cum again,”

You smile. “Cum for me,” you seductively whisper to him, your hands running from his neck to shoulders as you sit back against him, feeling his cock bruise your cervix with every thrust. He holds you against him, and his body shakes as he sends his load into your core. You grind against him into your orgasm before we both fall into the bed, exhausted. 

The two of you look at each other, smiles wide, faces and bodies sweaty. He cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing under your eye. “Your makeup looks so smudged.”

The two of you had been so enveloped in the moment you forgot that you had worn eyeliner today. “Thank you,” You say, still trying to catch your breath. 

He sits up a little. “Shower?” You nod.

“In a minute,” you laugh. “I don’t know if I can walk right now.”

He turns red for a moment, then laughs along with you. After a moment, he plants a gentle kiss on your lips, then gets up. “Let me go draw you a bath then.”

Damien Haas x reader

Word Count: 1103

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Male oral receiving, creampie

Description: Damien helps talk you through it. Fun, sexy little morning.

Author’s Note: I’m not quite sure if this is enough talking through it, I fear I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this one, but I hope it at least meets y’alls expectations… ENJOY! (PS, i decided to make it a morning moment was because J. Cole has been on repeat since his comeback, and In The Morning was playing when I started drafting the fic ;)

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Light creeps in from the cracks in the curtains, tickling across your face as you stir. Your eyes slowly open as you roll to face away from the window. As you turn over, Damien stirs a little, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer. Your eyes fully open, and you look at your partner.

His eyes are closed, you pause a moment to take in his features. His hair lays messily around his face. You gently move the hair from his face, and he exhales, humming a little. His lips find your wrist, leaving a soft kiss. You move closer, connecting your lips to his, hand cupping his face. He smiles into his lips, and you pull away. 

“Come back,” he whines, pulling you the rest of the way towards him, your bodies meshing together almost perfectly as you lay with him, lips finding each other again. 

The kisses go from gentle to slightly charged, every kiss getting more and more needy. Breathless, you pull from the kiss. He lets out a huff of frustration and continues the kisses, going from your cheek to your neck. A satisfied hum escapes your lips as he kisses at your neck, and you tilt your head to allow him easier access. 

He nibbles beneath your ear, then pulls away, his hand still around your waist, as he rests his forehead against yours. You look at him, a pout tugging down at the corners of your mouth. “That’s it?” You ask sadly. 

He lays on his back, parting from you on the bed, a smirk painting itself across his lips. “If you want more, darling, you’re going to have to come over here for it.”

You move back to him, propping yourself up on one elbow, your free hand finds his chest. Leaning back towards his face, he opens his eyes and smiles. 

“You go ahead, get what you want,” he says, smiling at you. Anxiously, you look at him. Both of you knew he’s the one that’s always in charge, and both of you preferred it that way, so why the sudden change? 

He senses your hesitation, and smiles softly. “You’re so shy, my love,” he begins, his voice low. “Give me a kiss.”

You lean in, connecting your lips to his. Once again, the kiss gets needy, an edge of demand to the motions. He takes your hand that lays on his chest and begins directing it. Knowing what he wanted, you grab his waistband, moving your hand beneath it and grabbing his hardening shaft, giving it a few pumps.

Damien’s breath hitches at the touch, and you pull away from the kiss, continuing to jerk him off, him becoming fully hard in your hand. You slightly shift down his body, hand still stroking. He watches you move, a satisfied hum coming from his lips as he interlocks his hands, putting them behind his head. 

“That’s right doll,” he begins, his breath hitching again as your lips meet his tip. “See, you know what to do. Go ahead, suck me.”

You move your hand to the base as you take his length into your mouth, letting the saliva in your mouth coat his shaft as you hollow out your cheeks to take all of him in. You hum, sending a satisfying vibration through him as you begin to bob your head up and down. Precum leaks into your mouth, mixing with your saliva as you work around him. His hand finds the back of your head, wrapping around almost all of your hair, his grip firm but uncontrolling as you continue to move. 

“Jesus,” He breathes, and you look up at him, locking eye contact. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You hum again, making him moan as you pull away, taking a breath. You lay on your back, wiggling out of your soaked underwear and pajamas, as he removes his own, the articles of clothing getting lost in the sheets. He looks at you, lust in his eyes. “Come here.”

He motions, and you move a leg over him, moving to sit straddling his hips. “Are you going to show me how you ride it?” He asks, his hand finding your folds, teasingly rubbing with his thumb. 

You’re unable to move for a moment as he explores, and you grow wetter with every thumb flick. “Show me.” You move up a little, and he helps position you over himself. His hands grip your hips and help guide you onto him, moving you slowly to adjust to his length. 

Once you’re adjusted to his length and have taken all of him in, you start to grind. Damien lets out a whimper as his hips buck against you, the movement sending a ripple of pleasure through the both of you. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “That, keep doing that.” You continue, as directed, to grind against him, Damien’s grip on your hips as he continues uncontrollably bucking beneath you. 

The mix of the two movements sends waves of pleasures through you, and you balance yourself with your hands on his chest as you grind into him. One of his hands moves from your hip to your throat, lightly gripping as he looks up at you. You feel his thighs against your back slightly as he adjusts, bracing himself as his thrusts beneath you grow stronger. The sudden pace change makes you bite back a moan, applying more pressure into your hip movements. 

“You feel, so good,” he moans, his head falling back. “Just light that, fuck, Y/n.” His voice is desperate, his mouth falling open as he moans again.

You feel yourself closer to the edge, finding it harder to grind against him as Damien’s thrusts take over. As you fall against his chest, he moves his hand back to your hip, gripping harder with the motions, the moans that fly freely from the two of you changing in disparity as you feel the final shock wave of pleasure ripple through you. You feel Damien’s breath against your ear as his movements slow, feeling him twitch inside of you. 

“I’m going to come,” he whispers, his movements slow and grip on your hips tight as you feel his release into you. His legs fall flat, and you lay against him, the both of you catching your breath. 

You move off of him and lay beside him on your back. He props himself up on his elbow, looking at you as he cups your face with his hand. He gives you one slow, gentle kiss, pulling away just slightly. 

Damien Haas x Reader

Word Count: 1369

Warnings: Family loss, grief, lightly edited so you can’t sue meeee

Description: Request Hi!! I love your work so much, I have a Smosh request! can you please do a story where the reader has just lost a parent or sibling and Damien comforts them? I’ve been struggling with grief lately and I feel like this would be a nice little way to help ❤️ thank you so much!! 

Author’s Note: Thank you to the request for complimenting my work, it means so much! It’s been a minute since I’ve had any inspiration to write, and this has helped reignite those wants to write again. I’m sorry if it’s not the best, I still hope you guys enjoy.

The drive home is quiet, the radio even being clicked off, something unusual. You sit in the passenger seat, the world around you nothing to the images in your mind. Memories of your mom flashing by, each new memory hurting more as something in you yearns to call her. Hear her voice, see her face on your phone screen, to just know that she’s still here. 

You know she isn’t, and that if you call, someone else would answer, or the call wouldn’t go through. The knowledge of her being gone feels like a cannon ball to the stomach, and instinctively, you pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs. 

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and you keep your head down. Unsure of what to say, Damien stays quiet, gently rubbing your shoulder as he waits for the light to turn. Going through a similar loss, he knows all too well how you feel. He keeps his hand on your shoulder as the light changes, and he drives. 

As your apartment building comes into view, he moves his hand, focusing on getting into a parking spot, parking, and turning off the ignition. Numbly, you untangle yourself, grabbing your bag and unbuckling as he gets out and circles around the front of your car. He pulls your door open, and you tumble out, knocking into him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, balancing yourself on the door. Damien looks down at you, his heart swelling, wishing he could take this pain away. 

“It’s okay, let’s get inside,” he says softly, taking your bag for you. There’s no words exchanged as he walks with you into the building, leading you up the flight of stairs and to your door. Holding your car keys, he finds the one for your apartment, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

You walk into the apartment first, and he follows. A meow comes from the darkness of the house, and you walk towards it, eyes adjusting to the dark. Damien closes the door and finds the light switch. Your cat twists around your legs, rubbing against your shins. Guilt swallows you as you lean down to pick her up, feeling bad for being gone all day. The black cat meows, head butting your chin and leaning into you, purring. 

You pet the cat, turning to Damien. “Could you,” you hesitate, not wanting to bother him. “It’s okay actually, I’ll call them in a moment.”

He shakes his head, moving closer to you. “What do you need me to do?” His

arms wrap around you, careful not to squish the cat between the two of you. “I’m here to help you.”

You look up at him, looking into his eyes for the first time today. His eyes met yours, sadness and concern in his expression. “I need to get a hold of work. The cat needs to be fed, um,” you rack your brain, trying to figure out what else needs to be done. Too much needed done, and you couldn’t remember any of it. 

Crazy how life keeps going after someone leaves. Tears strike your eyelids again, and you look away from Damien, not wanting him to see you start to cry again. “Okay, let’s start there, and if there’s other stuff, we can figure it out,” he says, rubbing your side soothingly. “Here, I’ll take the kitty, do you want to go get some cozy clothes on and lay down?”

You nod, silently handing him the cat. He lifts your chin with his free hand, moving his thumb over your face to dry the stream of tears. “I know,” he begins. “I’ll take care of things, and then I’ll come lay with you.”

Again, you nod, then head down the hallway to your room. Walking through the bedroom door, another reminder of what needed to be done sits on your bedroom floor, in the form of color sorted laundry. Laundry, work, the cat, and the idea of more needing done that you can’t remember, gets to you. Instead of changing, or even getting into bed, you lay on the floor, in the spaces between the piles of clothes. 

Grief consumes you, tears flowing freely as you choke out sobs. Clothes didn’t matter when the idea of going outside and continuing on didn’t sound appealing anymore. Damien would take your cat, she would get along well with his own pet. Fans would be upset about you no longer appearing in Smosh videos, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your biggest fan is gone, no one else matters. You curl into a ball, staring at the piles surrounding you as your tears continue to fall, wanting no more than to call and get comfort from the person you could no longer contact. 

Damien finishes his phone call with production, letting them know you won’t be in, requesting bereavement time off on your behalf. Your cat sits in the kitchen, eating the food he had given her. He looks around the apartment, seeing stuff he can take upon himself to do, but not in the moment. Slowly, he heads down the hallway, walking towards your room, his next task in mind being to comfort you. 

He walks into the room, looking around at the piles of laundry, his eyes falling onto you, his heart pounding against his chest. Damien fights the tears threatening to spill over as he kneels at your side. 

You feel his hand on your shoulder, and roll over, laying on your back and looking up at him, face red and puffy from crying. “I forgot about my laundry,” you tell him. 

“That’s okay,” he comforts. “I can start the laundry in a second, let’s get you off the floor.” You nod, and he helps you up off the floor. “Cool, off the floor, now, cozy jammies, what drawer is your pjs?”

You point to the dresser drawer, and he opens it, pulling out one of the few pairs of pj pants left in the mostly empty drawer. He sets them on the bed, and walks over to your closet. Already knowing what shirts are your favorite to wear to bed, he grabs one, putting it on the pile. “Thank you,” you tell him quietly.

“Of course,” he says, grabbing a pile of the sorted laundry off the ground. “I’ll get this started, and give you a moment to change.”

He walks out of the room, grabbing the door the best he can with an arm full of laundry. You don’t question it, his respect for you outweighing the knowledge that he’s seen more of your body than you have. You change, tossing the clothes into their sorted piles, then climb into bed, the pillows and soft blankets soothing. 

You stare at the wall, feeling a weird sensation of wanting to cry, but also feeling exhausted from all of the crying that had been done today. There’s a quiet knock on the bedroom door, and you hear the washing machine in the hallway starting to fill with water. The door opens, and Damien walks in, whispering to the cat who runs between his legs, rushing to jump onto the bed.

Damien walks over to the side of the bed, looking down at you. “Is that better?” He asks, smiling sweetly at your nod. “Good.” He lays down beside you, and you roll into his arms, his presence a comforting bubble around you. Your cat wedges herself between the two of you. 

“How did you do it?” you ask, looking up at him. “When you lost your dad, how did you keep going?”

He rubs your back, soothingly. “I took the time I needed, like everyone should,” he begins. “I also realized that keeping busy helped, when I had to go back to things like working. Grief will always be around, but in time, it becomes easier to put in the background. You just have to give it time, day by day.”

You nod, leaning into him more. “Thank you, again.”

Damien Haas x OC insert

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None

Description: Damien and Tatum had hidden their relationship, but a near slip up causes them to reconsider hiding their relationship

Author’s Note: Hi! I hope you enjoy! I want to start to do a mix of different one shots, some with the OC and some as x readers! I also have a dad!Spencer fic in the works, so we’ll see how that turns out. Until then, enjoy! (Also my bad about any mistakes, I fear if I reread it again I’m going to hate it too much to try and fix and post.

The cold violently envelopes my skin as I step out of the bathtub. Quickly, I shiver into my bathrobe. The robe is thin, but the slight protection that it gives me when it slides over my shoulders is better than the cold and naked vulnerability I could subject myself to. I lower my music slightly, the water no longer attempting to drown out this month’s playlist. Through the wall, I hear Damien shout something. Not thinking about it, I do my after shower routine. He has a tendency to yell at his games, and the sounds on the other side of the wall cause no concern.

My routine takes a moment. Drying off, skin care, hair care. I take my time, nothing more on my to do list for the night except to enjoy some games and start looking for songs for my next set of covers. My brain swirls around the idea of being curled up in my large beanbag chair, playing my own game on my Switch while Damien sits at his desk beside me, playing his games on his PC. Sure, I have my own desk, but tonight I felt particularly clingy, and knew I wanted to drag the chair into the office to set up next to him. 

Once my routine is finished, I head towards the bedroom. I pass our joint office room and poke my head in. His desk faces away from the door. The sound of the door opening causes him to look up. His screen is out of view, and the camera mounted and facing him has zero chance of catching me in sight. A look of concern casts on his face.

“I’m streaming!” He says quickly, then turns back to the computer. I pull the door closed quickly, my stomach dropping into the core of the earth. I hear through the door as he mentions something about a friend staying with him for a bit, and apologizing for the interruption. 

Our fans know nothing about our relationship. There’s speculation and shipping, but we act carefully to cover our tracks in a way that doesn’t confirm anything. We’ve been dating for almost two years, and friends for even longer. Our decision to stay quiet about our relationship was in fear of how fans would react. This fumble may have just messed up our chances of staying secret. My stomach hurting, I walk to the room, slipping into a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized tee. No longer wanting to play on my Switch, I lay flat on my stomach on the beanbag, closing my eyes and letting my mind wander. 

While waiting for Damien and letting my thoughts consume me, I hear a chitter of excitement and feel the 2 ton pressure of Zelda jumping onto me, walking up and settling into a loaf on my back, effectively pinning me to the bean bag until further notice. I rest my head on my overlapped hands, moving the little bit I can to get more comfortable. The cat’s purrs and the vibrations that come with the content sounds feel soothing. Freyja finds a spot besides my head and the purrs of the two cats hypnotize me into sleep. 

~~~~~~

“Tate,” Damien’s voice is gentle, and soothing, as his hand finds the small of my back, gently rubbing to coax me to wake up. I force my eyes to open as I blindly wipe away the small stream of drool and turn towards his voice. He couches next to the bean bag, leaning into it slightly. 

His wide and signature grin paints his face. “Good morning,” He says softly, still gentle. “Cat lullaby?” The cats had coaxed me into naps with their purrs so often the event now had a name, dubbed by Damien. I sleepily nod, turning to see Freyja gone. Zelda, however, notices Damien and I both awake, and moves to stand between us, head butting me with purrs. 

Damien shoos the cat away after a few pets, and climbs into the bean bag next to me. I roll into his arms, and he plants a kiss on my forehead. I look up at him. “Sorry for walking in on the stream.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was streaming. I know you were in the shower when I started but I still could have texted or something.”

There’s a moment of silence as we both think. “Maybe we should get a sign,” I say, the silence breaking around us. “You can flip it to say if you’re streaming or not.”

“I like that idea,” he says. “Maybe we can go find something at the craft store and you can paint me one.”

In the time we’ve known each other, Damien has encouraged and supported me in all of the things I do. My art, my photography, my singing and covers. All of it, he stood by my side, pushing me to continue.

“I’d like that,” I say, burying my face in his chest. “What did chat say after it happened?”

“They wanted to know who the friend was,” he says. “But I just told them that it wasn’t my information to share with them, and that if my friend wanted to share, they would. They mostly let it go after that.”

“Mostly?” I look up at him. He looks a little upset as he looks away, avoiding eye contact. That was normal, I tended to also avoid eye contact. 

“Yeah, the Tamien shippers kinda got crazy for a minute, but mods stepped in pretty quickly to quiet them down, he explains.

I nod. There’s another moment of silence as we lay together, enveloped in each other’s embrace. “We should tell them,” I blurt out.

I sit up slightly, propping myself up on one elbow. Damien looks up at me, excited. “Really? You want to?” He asks, the excitement clear in his voice. 

I nod. “You seem excited about that,” I note. 

His face grows red with embarrassment. “Yeah, I want to show you off.” He says, quietly and shyly. “But I didn’t want to do anything until you were comfortable and ready.”

I smile, my heart swelling even more as I admire him. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his hair lays perfectly, the way his hazel eyes contorted into a soft brown that paired with his brown hair and black tee. 

He smiles up at me. “Something on my face?”

I grin mischievously. “Not yet.” I lean down, peppering around his face with soft kisses. His nose, forehead, chin, and cheeks are showered by kisses as he laughs, the kissing attack ending with my lips connecting to his. He kisses back softly, pulling away after a moment.

“I love when you do that,” He says, grinning widely, his hand rubbing my back in smooth circles, his fingers dancing across my skin. 

I sit up fully, smiling. “Happy to be of service,” I joke as he sits up, then stands. He reaches down, and I take his hands, planting my feet as he helps me up. “Are you hungry?” I wander towards the kitchen, Damien close behind me, a look of infatuation in his expression. I start taking the things out to make one of my favorite dishes, and he settles into a dining chair. 

“Kastudon?” He asks, noticing the ingredients on the counter. I nod, then run into the bathroom to grab my portable speaker. Two birds with one stone, I could look for my next cover songs while I make dinner. “How do you want to tell the fans?” 

I shrug. “I always imagined just posting us together but not giving any context. Seems easier than a whole explanation about our connection.”

“I like that idea, I mean, we don’t owe it to anyone to explain it,” He says. I nod in agreement and hit shuffle on my February playlist. The speaker makes a connected beep, and the music starts. I set the speaker on top of the fridge, keeping it out of the way of cooking. 

As I prep each piece of the dish, I sing along with the songs, testing how well they would work as covers, adding ones that work into a new playlist. Damien scrolls on his phone, watching and nodding his head to the beats. 

While I start breading the pork chops, It’s Been Awhile by Staind begins. I close my eyes for a moment, swaying as I start singing along. It’s a song that means a lot, and it always makes me pause for a moment to sing along to. I’ve never, oddly enough, done a cover, and I add it to the covers playlist. Maybe. We’ll see, as I tend to keep the more intimate songs in my life and songs I hold closely to me to myself, not covering them. 

I feel Damien’s arms wrapped around me, and I lean back into him, continuing to sing. He smiles, swaying with me. I turn to face him, holding onto his shoulders as we sway. If you would have told me years ago that I would be comfortable singing in front of someone, let alone serenading them, I would have called you an idiot. Something about being with Damien had changed that shyness. Something about his support and the way he reacted to my voice crashed that fear and shyness into the ground. The song ends, and he kisses my forehead. 

“Your voice is so beautiful,” he says. “That’s such a good song, that would be an amazing cover.”

He returns to his seat. “I’m thinking about it. You know how much it means though, I want to keep it to us.”

He nods. It was a song that had been sent to him in a rough depressive episode during lockdown. It was a rough patch in the beginning of our relationship, the two of us both feeling less than and trying to keep spirits up for the other. The random link of the song I had sent him had broken those walls between us, both having felt the same, and not knowing how to communicate it. Sharing songs had become a way for us to communicate how we felt when words didn’t do justice, something I knew how to do really well, and he picked up on, accommodating that form of communication to help our relationship. 

Preparation of dinner continues, the mood lightening again with the next songs. The Real Slim Shady plays a few songs later, and I absentmindedly rap along, bobbing my head to the beat. I turn to see Damien, camera pointed in my direction, a smile on his face. I walk towards him, a bowl in my hand, rapping along with the music. He laughs as I get too close to the camera. 

I back up, half dancing back to the rice cooker. I hear the video playback and cringe slightly. Singing was one thing, rapping was another, I hate hearing myself rap. “Eww,” I say, shaking my head at the video. 

“It’s cute,” he says. “And you’re like, oddly good at rapping.”

I shake my head, scooping rice into the bowl. “I like rapping playfully, I just hate hearing it back,” I say, moving to grab a piece of the cut up pork cutlet to drape over the rice, building the bowl. 

“So you would be upset if I posted it?” He asks. I nod quickly, and look over at him, feeling slightly guilty for saying no. “Okay, I won’t save that one, I have another thing, come look.”

I walk over after setting the bowl on the counter. He shows me a picture from his gallery. It's me from today, asleep on the beanbag, the cats surrounding me. My face is barely visible. “I like that picture.”

He smiles. “Want tagged?”

I nod. “Sure.” I move back to the assembly of dinner, finishing the plating and bring the bowls over to the table. Happily, Damien jumps up, getting cutlery and drinks from the fridge. I pause the music, disconnecting from the speaker. He sits back down, and the two of us dig into our bowls. The two of us quietly scroll, easily enjoying each other’s company without being forced to conversate. While scrolling Instagram, I get a ping.

damienhaas mentioned you in a post

A smile pants my face as I click the notification. He’s posted the picture, the caption simple. It fills my heart to know that they love her as much as I do.

I look up at him. “You’re so cute,” a blush paints his face as he eats. “I love you Damien.”