#daveed

TW ) swearing! :3

1998

"Ey, man, leave that girl alone. Give it back, f'real."

Those were the words that made your soul leave your 8th grade body. Sure he was laughing when he said it, so it was a soft demand, but the fact that Rafael Casal was defending you to any capacity made your brain leave orbit. Which is not where you needed it to be right now.

Because you didn't know what to say when his friend gave you your novel back. He didn't seem to expect a response, however, completely overlooking you to defend himself to Rafa. "What? I just wanna know what be so damn interesting in them books she always reading."

"Bitch, spell 'interesting',” Daveed joked, getting a spirited shove from behind as they all left you alone. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at the jab. The last thing you needed was to draw attention back to yourself.

They all roasted each other as they continued up the sidewalk, all shoving each other and completely forgetting about you. Thankfully. With a final "Man fuck you!" they all disappeared around the corner. Still talking shit. You exhaled. Your skin was cool with the feeling of sweat that broke out when they’d approached. Your pulse was pounding in your eardrums. You swallowed, your throat cracking a bit from the moisture finally returning to it. You were ashamed of the way you choked whenever they were around.

You were the epitome of a "good girl". Straight A's, well-read, well-behaved, stayed out of trouble. It always pleased your parents, but your social life was sorely lacking. Plus, anxiety was a bitch and it made you an easy target for teasing. Particularly from the neighborhood boys--them included. Your Grandma claimed it was because they thought you were cute and just did it because they didn't have anything better to do.

A thought you wanted to entertain.

But nah, you knew it was because you were funny to watch squirm and fumble for a good comeback. Today, however, Rafa and Dav--as they so affectionately called each other--seemed to exercise a small bit of restraint when their third homie went in on you.

Possibly because your Grandma used to be their music teacher and looked out for them. Maybe because she paid them to do odd jobs around her house to keep them out of trouble. Or maybe it was because she always fed them whenever they came over after school. Which wasn't anything novel; she fed everybody that came through. So you legit couldn't think of any other reason they'd take it easy on you. Sure, you interacted occasionally--often being in the same room and all--but you'd hardly call yourselves "friends that hang out".

You were--as Rafa put it--"so fuckin weird", although said in a lighthearted way that made your heart flutter. In a way, it did make you feel like you were closer than your other schoolmates, if only temporary.

Which was why you were so ashamed of yourself for choking up so much. They were just dumb boys doin' dumb boy shit. Clownin' around. Any cool bitch would’ve snatched her book back and cut them all off at the knees with something sharp and/or flirty.

But you were nothing like that. You were a nervous laugher, pretending to be a good sport, not wanting to offend, but also desperately wanting them to leave you alone type of girl. No matter how fine you thought they were. Especially how fine you thought they were.

They were on a whole other level. Cute, charismatic, talented, funny, down-to-earth…and right across the street. You would listen from your window all the time, doing your homework, blinds just barely open, the window cracked to hear them joking and taking turns freestyling bars about people they saw or stuff they liked. Which you enjoyed.

At least until you heard them jokingly rap:

See shawty 'cross the street always playing hide-and-seek-er/peepin all up in the blinds like can't nobody see her

You couldn't look them in the eye for a week-

"Amber Brown," your bestie laughed aloud, interrupting your story with a smirk that suggested she was holding onto a juicy secret. You frowned at her expectantly.

"What?"

"You know that song was about you, right?" she purred deviously, waggling her perfectly contoured brows at you. You rolled your eyes with a sheepish smile, the familiar feeling of embarrassment creeping up your spine.

"Anyway-"

"No, no for real!" she pleaded apologetically, "That's how I found out Rafa had a crush on you."

Your jaw went slack. "What?"

F/N gave you an obnoxiously beaming smirk. "Mmhmmmm."

Then she took a long sip of her drink, which made you practically foam at the mouth for more information.

"Okay, so???" you urged, motioning for her to go on. She seemed to revel in your anxiety.

She smacked her lips for a moment then relented. "Okay okay. For real tho. Who did you think Amber Brown was about?"

She paused to let you add two and two together. You decided to give her the wrong answer. “Somebody at school.”

You truly earned the look she gave you. “Yeah. You, silly ass.”

You laughed and shrugged, your chest fluttering and sparkling with the revelation that maybe your best friend was actually right. “I’m just sayin. There were a lot of Ambers floatin’ ‘round that school.”

“You are way too bright for me to dignify that with an answer.”

You took a smirky sip and she rolled her eyes.

“Amber brown is about your eyes, smartass.”

She looked pleased at the cough that pulled from you.

“Amber Brown in my town always got me feenin’, honey brown lookin 'round like shawty always schemin’? He was talkin about how shy you were and how he though it was cute. Which like. I ain’t gon lie. That was fuckin adorable.”

You wanted poke fun at how she remembered that freestyle from so long ago, but you did too. It was one of your favorites. But not once did you think it was about you. You truly thought it was about some chick named Amber.

“My eyes ain’t honey brown,” was all your flustered brain could manage.

“Remember in music class when we were talking about Jasmine’s contacts and the sun hit your eyes at just the right angle and we started talking about how brown eyes hit different in the sun?”

How could you forget? Rafa was the one that started it all in the first place. Everybody started laughing then Andre joked about you being his new boo. You were petrified.

“Rafa said ‘damn’ or something…whatever it was, it about how pretty your eyes were when the sun hit them. Everybody started laughing, but he was for real. I thought he was legit gon’ smack the shit outta Dre’.”

“He laughed too,” you pressed, hanging on every word, hoping she’d supply more. As if she’d sensed it, she continued.

“Because he was a dumbass boy back then. But he was straight up serious then. Anyway, after school, when Daveed and him did their usual freestyle stuff, he started spitting that shit and I was convinced homeboy was sprung."

* For Smut - under 18 DNI! I Know Series

Part 1

Part 2*

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I Knew Series (Unfinished)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Blurbs & Shorts & Prompts

Promise - Rafael x Reader

Always - Rafael x Reader

She didn’t have time to say a word before he was on the floor at her feet, bent over his knees with his head low, and suddenly she knew where her grandson’s scars had come from in perfect, terrible clarity.

She leaned forwards, feeling her way down to his arm, careful not to touch his shoulder. “Stand up, dear,” she coaxed him gently, patting at his bicep. “Stand up. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, his voice calm only on the surface. He thought that was it. He thought her patience would run out. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Come up. Let me see your face, look at me, eh?” She tugged, and stiffly, he unwound himself until he was upright on his knees, dread woven deep into his taut expression. “There you are, dear. Now, do I look upset to you?”

His eyes struggled to meet hers, but when they did, confusion began to replace fear. “I... I don’t know.”

She smiled kindly. “Of course not. You think an old lady like me cares if a bedsheet gets torn? They’re just things. You are more important.”

His eyes dropped again. Like clockwork, the words came: “I understand.”