#daveed diggs drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

valwrite · 5 years ago

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the bella-vista avenue book club; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: if only she’d double checked her Amazon shopping cart, Y/N L/N wouldn’t find herself torn between what book to give her hot neighbor next.

warnings: fluff, cheesiness, a slither of smut, mentions of a car accident, cooper is a basic dog name, i know but stfu about it.

fic style: oneshot.

word count: 6455.

author’s note: this fic took way too long to write, bye. no but for real, i’ve been back in uni for one month and so far i’ve: done way too many assignments; had more breakdowns than a disney child star; had a covid scare; and spontaneously dyed my hair dark blue/green at 4am instead of finishing an essay. we’re doing well, folks :)

It took exactly twenty one days for the loneliness to kick in.

On the day the lockdown was first announced, Y/N L/N felt the most confusing sentiment of relief and fear blended together. She'd spent just about the whole day in the meeting from Hell, during which three people had stormed out of after countless shouting matches had broken out and her boss had blatantly fired one of the guys from her department, right in front of everyone. When she did eventually get out of said meeting- a whole two hours later than her usual work days ended -, she was struggling with an impending migraine, threatening to blur her eyesight the whole drive home. She arrived home safely that evening, by the force of some miracle, only to find countless texts from relatives and friends alike, detailing the quarantine announcement and all the rules that came with it. Though concerned over the state of the world battling against the rapidly spreading virus, Y/N was just glad there would be no meetings for a while.

Quarantine was exciting at first. In the normal day-to-day life she lead, Y/N often found herself falling short on time to do things she truly enjoyed. There was just always one more task needing done at work; one more errand to complete; one more mile to run. By the time she stepped into her home come the end of the day, her eyelids were always battling to stay opened. So, it was very fair to say that the sudden infinite amount of free time had her feeling rather excited.

Day two and she'd already set herself a list of goals to spend all this time on, a chance to do all the things her schedule got in the way of. Of course, with the situation at hand, all these goals were modified to be achievable from within the confines of her home. The first goal she achieved was knitting a sweater. Granted, it was a mess she'd ended up trying to turn into a dog sweater only to watch as her fur-baby, Cooper, chewed it into rags.

There was no goal on the list to be good at all those goals.

In the following weeks, Y/N found herself trying her hand at pottery - she both made and broke a mug -, baking - the first cake burned but the second she made was actually pretty edible -, guitar playing - it really was just like riding a bike: one never really forgets how to do it - and many other hobbies. In between finding her artistic calling in life, it seemed family quiz nights became the norm.

But twenty one days, that's when she finally took notice of just how lonely living had become for her. A full twenty one days of not having made eye contact with anyone outside of a screen or who happened to not own four paws and a tail.

The loneliness wasn't unique to her, she was very aware. But she was stuck quarantining in a house all by herself, hours away from any of her family and she knew it was going to be a fair while before she even spoke with someone face to face. Much longer than most people. She was still at the point where even bringing up the thought of going to the store- with a trusted mask on, of course - would send her mother into a spiral of worse case scenarios and her father would be threatening to call her doctor.

As neurotic as the two could be about her health, Y/N completely understood their reactions. Things had never really been the same since her accident, even with the years gone by.

She was sat on her sofa- well, actually, sat on her floor, with her back against the sofa - when the door bell rang. She was up at lighting speed, bounding her way over to the front of the house before peaking a look through the peep hole and finding no one there. Unfazed by this, she unlocked the door and pulled it open to unveil a package at her doorstep, the ever familiar Amazon logo splashed across it. In the past few weeks, the delivery service and her bank account had become well acquainted, with most of her new found hobbies being aided by it.

In a matter of seconds, she'd picked up the package, shut the door and made her way into her kitchen, a drawer being pulled open as she dug through it for a pair of scissors. The package was ripped up and there she found a sight she wasn't awaiting, her eyes widening ever so slightly and a "Huh." noise escaping her.

There, laying on the remaining cardboard package, sat a hardback copy of A Tale Of Two Cities. And right next to it sat an identical copy, both of them staring up at Y/N.

“This can't be right, right?” She proposed the question down at Cooper, who'd at some point sauntered in to the kitchen and sat down at her feet, his tail wagging lazily upon being spoken to.

Sure enough, when she checked her receipt online, there was only one copy on the list. She wondered if it was perhaps a “buy one, get one free” kind of deal but quickly found no evidence to back up her hypothesis.

Thinking of what the right thing to do would be, Y/N on instinct began to investigate how she could possibly return the additional book they'd sent to her. As she came to the realization that it would entail her having to return both books and, then, waiting once again for a copy to be sent to her, she changed her mind instantly. A few other solutions came to mind: she could mail it to her sister-in-law, she was just as much of a book worm as Y/N; or she could keep it until the next time she needs a birthday present for someone; or she could just keep both of the copies, even if it felt a little wasteful.

It was only later on that very evening, as Y/N chopped away at some onions and was struggling to contain her tears- she had a spoon in her mouth because her mother swore it stopped you from crying, spoiler: it did not -, that the perfect idea struck.

In the corner of her eye she spotted him, strolling about his own kitchen. He hadn't lived next door for very long, he'd only moved in at the very start of the year, if she remembered correctly. And though they had never really spoken or interacted- polite waves and stiff smiles when spotting one another either leaving or arriving home wasn't exactly very conversational after all-, Y/N couldn't help but decide he was going to be the honorary recipient of the book. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Well, he could use the book to keep his fireplace alight, but Y/N was more eager to just think optimistically about it.

With her mind firmly made up, she neatly wrapped the book in some stray wrapping paper she'd found in her junk drawer and tied a neat, makeshift bow around it. His doorstep was only a couple feet from her own and it wasn't long till she was stood right in front of it, finger hovering over the doorbell as she wrestled with the thought off handing the present directly to him. She recalled one night, where her bedroom curtains had been wide open to let in the moonlight, and he'd walked past his own bedroom window, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The image of water dripping down those defined abs made her mind up and she placed the wrapped book next to his door, the little note she'd written taped on to it carefully.

Happy housewarming! I hope you're taking care during these trying time! - Y/N, your neighbor from door 27. p.s. Cooper (the German Shepherd) says sorry for peeing in your flowers :(

A few days later, as Y/N and Cooper arrived home from their daily walk, a mysterious package sat on the doorstep. What made it mysterious was the fact it wasn't from Amazon, nor from her local grocery store either. Cooper possessed no hesitation and dashed over to investigate, his tail beginning to wag as Y/N approached the front door.

“What is it, Coops?” She crouched down, her hand rubbing over the top of his head as his tongue dangled out of his mouth. There was a small piece of paper stuck on the package and, at first, she wondered if perhaps her attempt at a kind gesture had backfired and the hot neighbor had just dropped it back off. Then, she read the note. “Housewarming? Took you a while. This Dickens guy's good, hope he finally get's some popularity soon. - Daveed, your neighbor from door 28.” A smile crept onto her face as she learnt his name. It felt nice on her lips. His calligraphy skills only made the name look prettier. “P.S. check this book out, author is a real hidden gem. P.S.S. tell Cooper it's chill, I got my revenge and peed in his flowers.”

It was there on her doorstep, with a thin layer of sweat decorating her face and a tired out dog at her feet, that Y/N upgraded Daveed from hot neighbor to hot and funny neighbor.

It was almost like an otherworldly sign when Y/N stumbled over a chew toy the next day, her whole body slamming right into her bookcase and out from it fell a book, smacking her right on her head to add yet another bruise on to her list. Her mother had always joked that she bruised easier than a peach, partially on account of her incapability to walk five paces without stumbling over air or slipping on dry ground.

She let out a groan, her hand rubbing at the spot the book hit her and she reached down to grab her attacker- which lay face down - off of the floor. The cover turned out to be that of The Great Gatsby and the sudden urge to wrap it up, attach a note and drop it over at Daveed's doorstep became overwhelming. It still felt so personal to know his name.

Was she seriously about to use a book as an excuse to try catch a glimpse of her hot neighbor, who just yesterday was claiming to have peed on her flowers? Yes, yes she was. Because, after all, he was hot. And if society had taught her anything, it was that hot people were excused of everything. Okay, perhaps she was exaggerating just a little bit but it all added up to the same thing: Daveed was hot and she was thirsty.

Maybe quarantine really was beginning to have an effect on her.

A few hours later, Y/N was comfortably snuggled under her blankets in bed, the room illuminated by nothing but her television screen and the streetlights outside. A door opened somewhere, her anxious brain questioning if it was one of her own doors but the sudden laughter she could hear changed her train of thought quickly.

Oh my god, his laugh was music to her ears. And, oh my god, she'd actually made him laugh.

She lay back, wondering which part of her note had made Daveed laugh as consciousness slowly slipped away from her. One house away, her hot and funny neighbor was near mirroring her position in his own bed, his head replaying the note he'd received from the cute girl next door.

Not too sure about this author, he seems to have a fetish for big feet! I'm beginning to question exactly what kind of weird foot erotica you read, Daveed from door 28! -Y/N, your foot hating neighbor. P.S. this guy definitely needs more clout, can't you just picture his writing being used to teach the younger generations? P.S.S. Cooper isn't happy about you peeing in his flowers but he is happy about the treats.

Two days later, in the morning, Y/N was sat at her kitchen island. Her computer lay open in front of her, untouched for the past half hour as she flipped through the pages of her book and sipped away at the smoothie she'd blended up for herself. Cooper lay sound asleep under her seat, the occasional snore coming from the pup. It was those moments in her quarantine that she enjoyed most, just pure tranquility. It took her mind off of the loneliness.

A feeling overcame her, as the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. It was almost like she could feel someone's eyes on her. She tore her own eyes away from the printed text and checked her surroundings vaguely. It was only when she looked straight ahead, out of the window that she spotted the intrusive stare of his.

They were sat in near parallel, him also sat at his kitchen island with a computer opened, only he had a mug of coffee instead of a smoothie. When their eyes made contact, he grinned at her, waving the book in his hand before pointing at the cover. The Great Gatsby.

He really was reading the book she'd sent over.

Mirroring his actions, she lifted up her own book, the one he'd sent over all those days ago. The Hobbit.

It was short, it was sweet and it was the longest they had ever interacted off paper. Even without verbal communication, so much was said between them both in that small instance. It was a sign that these little book deliveries were appreciated, they both cared enough to read whatever the other sent over.

Maybe it was time to consider Daveed her hot, funny and caring neighbor.

The book exchanges continued onward for weeks.

Daveed sent over a collection of fairy tales by the Grimm brothers, his attached note read: Thanks for putting me onto Fitzgerald, gonna have to see if the school board will let me teach his work in my lectures. Think they might be against it, what ya think? In the meantime, check these indie short stories out. Think Cooper will resonate with the wolf in the Red Ridding Hood story. -Daveed, your literature professor neighbor. P.S. Noticed the Raptors jersey on your washing line, tell your boyfriend the Warrior in me is unimpressed.

To which Y/N replied to with, alongside a copy of Twilight,: Cooper loved the Red Ridding Hood story, but he says you remind him of the grandmother in it. Speaking of wolves, check out this classic example of American literature, the lack of emotions this author puts into her writing is truly astounding. -Y/N, the Raptor next door. P.S. The Raptors jersey is mine, but I'll applaud you for smoothly trying to find out if I have a boyfriend. For the record, I do. He's tall, dark haired and lives in my imagination. P.S.S. Could you ask your girlfriend if she knows any good foundations? I'm thinking of changing mine.

He took less than a day to fire back with a copy of 50 Shades Of Grey: If Cooper is the wolf, and I'm the grandmother, would that make you the girl? I think the romance in this book is quite poignant, it really values the emotional over the physical. - Daveed, your grandmother neighbor. P.S. Not sure about my girlfriend's foundation, seeing as she doesn't exist, but I use L'Oreal. Very creamy, or whatever it is foundation is meant to be like. P.S.S. You looked cute in your paint splattered t-shirt the other day.

Not even an hour later, he opened his door to find a hardback of the Holy Bible and the following: I went into that book expecting a rush of happiness and sweetness, but ended up feeling scared and turned on in the most confusing way. I worry about your taste, Daveed, and that is why I'm recommending this book to you. This will cleanse you of all you've done wrong, my friend. -Y/N, your concerned neighbor. P.S. I'm not the girl, I'm the huntsman. P.S.S. Your dog is so cute, Cooper wants her/his number.

It took 45 days of lockdown for Y/N to finally venture out to her local grocers, tired of ordering food online and desperate for some human contact which didn't have to be separated by a great distance and united by a glass screen and a stable internet connection. She'd felt wrong; out of place; strange the whole time she'd been wandering up and down the aisles of the shop, her mask secured on her face and a near full basket hanging on her arm.

The fact Cooper was at home, holding down the fort for the time being gave her a little comfort.

Despite paying through self-service, and using a contactless card payment, her father's voice was ringing in her ears, scolding her for even taking the risk of stepping outdoors. Naturally, she appreciated his caring tendencies but she liked to consider herself old enough and smart enough to manage her own health problems.

With four bags stacked awkwardly in her arms, she took a few steps away from her car, attempting to peak over her shopping to see just where exactly the gate to her garden was. She could very faintly hear Cooper's excited whining, his paws scratching against the metal gate.

It was the sound of a voice, a very distinct voice, calling out her name that halted her movement and turned her head.

“Let me,” He, Daveed from door 28, paused, his hand clutching at his heaving chest. As her eyes drifted over him briefly, she took note of the trainers, the sweaty running shorts and, most of all, his bare chest, perfectly lined abs scattered along him. “get that for you.”

Before Y/N could so much as protest, Daveed had already snatched all four bags from her arms and was stood holding the gate open for her, a stupidly handsome smile decorating him. Her mask was still firmly held up but she smiled beneath it and done her best to share her gratitude with him.

“You don't need to do that.” Despite her words, she never attempted to take her bags back from him, instead cautiously slipping her way past him into her open garden. Cooper launched his paws up onto her, a bark of excitement escaping him before he licked at her arm and redirected his attention to Daveed. Cooper was still fairly young, not even a year old yet, but he was a fierce dog when it came to guarding his owner from any stranger. So, for Y/N to turn back and find him happily circling Daveed's legs, his favorite toy in his mouth and his tail wagging at lighting speed, it was purely a shock to her system.

And the clearest sign she'd ever seen that Daveed, whether he was a complete stranger to her or not, could be trusted.

“Where should I leave these?” He ignored her protest, effortlessly walking up the path of her garden with the heavy bags secure in his hands. Having him around her, all sweaty and heavy breathing and half dressed was more of a health hazard than her trip to the shops. Y/N began to wonder if it was legal to look so good.

“Uh, just,” She fished through her purse for her door key, avoiding the temptation to peak at his abs again. “on the table over there, if you don't mind.” She nodded her head in the direction of the small table sat out on her front porch and, within a couple seconds, she felt as Daveed brushed past her, so close she swore she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

He done exactly as she requested and lay the bags gently to rest on the table, the muscles in his arms flexing. Y/N had to wonder if this was a purposeful action, a way to tempt and seduce her, as if he needed to try much to succeed at that. She'd more or less been whipped for him the second he delivered his first book to her.

“Are you looking after yourself?” Her parents had asked this every time they spoke on the phone - which was basically a daily occasion - but hearing it from Daveed felt refreshing, as though she'd never heard the words before; as though she'd never been spoken to with such tenderness. She let her eyes meet his face, a dangerous choice when she found a dazzling smile reflected back at her.

“I am.” Was it possible for a smile to be brighter than the sun? “Are you?”

“Yeah. Even started eating kale.” Daveed chuckled and she followed suit, because his laugh was infectious and she would willingly let it consume her. “It tastes like shit, don't get me wrong, but it's gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, totally, kale-boy.”

“Excuse me, I'd prefer if you called me by what I really am: a kale-man.”

The mask slid down the bridge of her nose as she smiled wider than the Cheshire cat. In her mind, she cursed her heart-eyes behavior but it did nothing to halt it, Daveed simply put her on edge in the best way.

“It was nice to finally hear your voice, it's cuter than I thought.” She wondered if he was aware of the effect he was having on her, if each word and every gesture of his was carefully calculated to make her weak in the knees. “I'll save you from my sweaty smell and head off now, I can hear the shower calling my name.”

The last thing, yet also the best thing, Y/N needed to be envisioning was a water soaked Daveed. “I didn't want to say anything but, yeah, you smell worse than Cooper's breath.”

“There's the attitude from all your notes!” Daveed had at some point stepped closer to her, to the point where it was likely a big enough inhalation of a breath would have their chests touching. He was so tall, and muscular. “I'll see you around, Y/N from door 27.”

For two minutes she stood there, mask slapped across her face and her breath caught in her throat, nothing but the raw memory of his body so close and, yet, so far away from her own. She made her way indoors, finally, in a zombiefied state. Cooper trailed happily behind her through the house and all the way into the kitchen and, like the good pup he was being raised to be, he helped put away a few of the groceries, by greedily grabbing at the packet of dog treats when something else in the bag caught Y/N's attention.

“Thank you for the bible, now may I rebut with a copy of the Torah? The characters might seem similar but I swear it's different. Friend? Was that you officially friendzoning me, Y/N? And to think I was willing to look past the fact you're a raptor.” She mumbled allowed without even noticing, her eyes drifting across the note in her hand. When Daveed had snuck this into her shopping, she didn't know. Perhaps he'd left it earlier on that day and simply scooped it into the bags after carrying them for her. That sure made more sense than her theory of him hiding the book down his running shorts. “P.S. My dog and I share a number, so I guess I'll just have to give you that one. Just tell Cooper no phone calls past ten o'clock, that's her bedtime.”

She'd never thought it would be so easy to achieve her hot neighbor's number, but the crumpled paper in her hand told her differently.

The room was dark. Or maybe her eyes were closed. Y/N honestly didn't know nor care enough to find out which was the truth. No, all she cared about was the feeling of her nerves being lit on fire and simultaneously soothed. As the moments passed, she became more and more aware of the predicament she found herself in. Her head was thrown back on the comfort of someone's pillow- it couldn't be one of her own, it was far too plush and soft -, both her legs were bent up at the knee, her hands were busy grasping on to anything and everything close by (the bed sheets, the headboard, the hair of whoever was currently positioned between her thighs) and her mouth was agape. Hushed moans and whimpers of ecstasy filled the thick air of the room, and they were all coming from her.

The tension was building in her gut, a knot winding itself tighter and tighter all the while threatening to snap at any moment. Her hips started grinding in time with the warm tongue against her heat. Or, maybe, she'd already been grinding before. Nothing was making sense. Up was down, left was right and Y/N was on the brink of the most thrilling orgasm she'd felt in a while, or ever, really.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Her eyes- which apparently had in fact been opened all along-, with heavy eyelids, flickered down to between her legs. The man was certainly a specimen built to the likes of a Greek god, or something deriving from one. His fingers, buried deep within her, coaxed out another moan from her as they curled upwards. Daveed only smiled in satisfaction at this, as if he was getting more pleasure from it than she was.

Daveed.

Holy shit.

Daveed was between her bare legs.

Y/N bolted up and out of bed, hand reaching out and switching on the light. Just as she expected, there was no sign of Daveed in her room: not on her bed, not under her covers, not in her closet. But he was everywhere in her mind. Fully dressed, Y/N had never felt more naked in her entire life as she gazed out of her bedroom balcony door, over at the very window of the man who'd soaked her dream in a haze of steam.

His light was on.

Worst of all, she found that Daveed was sat at his desk, typing away at something on his opened laptop. As though he felt her intrusive gaze, he looked up from the screen and met her eyes. Due to the distance between them both Y/N couldn't tell for sure but she could have sworn he sucked in his lower lip before releasing it in a teasing smile, his hand lazily waving at her.

With all the shame in the world, she shut her curtains and flopped back on to her bad.

In the span of five minutes she'd dreamed of Daveed doing unspeakable things to her with that mouth of his and been caught peeking into the bedroom of the very same man.

She hadn't phoned him.

She hadn't sent a book over to him.

She hadn't opened her blinds.

He'd been stuck thinking about her for eight days straight, yet it was beginning to feel like she'd been nothing but a creation of his own socially starved brain.

In the grand scheme of things, Daveed was not a narcissist. But he also wasn't an idiot. He was very aware of his own looks, of the lingering stares he'd receive from his students- male and female alike-, of the way soccer moms would shamelessly pay more attention to him than their own sons when he coached the local little league team. And, up until that point, he'd been sure Y/N had been reciprocating whatever feelings he'd amassed for her.

One thing Daveed was is decisive.

Mask pulled across the lower part of his face, he let himself into the gated front yard. In a couple seconds, Cooper had pounced up at him, tail wagging a million miles an hour and tongue lapping away at his face. He chuckled as he lowered the dog safely back onto all four paws.

It only took knocking on the door twice for him to get a “Hold on!” shouted from some part of the house as a response. Relief flooded him at the sound of Y/N's voice, reassuring him that everything was okay. But it only brought on more questions about her sudden lack of communication.

“Hell- Oh, Daveed.” A mask decorated her own face, meaning he was unaware of the hint of a smile on her lips. All Daveed could see were her widened and tired eyes. “Can I help you?” He'd been stood staring her in silence for a little too long, it seemed.

"You never called.” He'd never sounded more pathetic in his life.

“You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Apart from appear in one of my wet dreams? “What?! No! I've just been busy and I also didn't want to burden you, if I'm honest.”

“I gave you my number so you'd call me, Y/N.”

“And here I thought it was so our two dogs could kick off their fairy-tale romance.”

“As their parents, don't you think it's our responsibility to get along?” Daveed wanted to ask what had kept her busy for eight days. He wanted to know what she thought about in the morning, in the evening. What she thought about him. About the prospect of there ever being a “them”. But it wasn't the time nor the place. “Promise you'll call.”

“I promise I'll call you, loser.” She laughed behind her mask, leaving him with a longing to see her smile. “Now get lost, I've probably just burnt my omelette because of you.”

Daveed had just closed his front door as he felt his phone begin to buzz in his pocket, an unknown number displayed across the screen.

“You owe me an omelette.” Were the first words he heard as he answered it.

Two months passed. The quarantine rules had loosened and tightened over and over again. The supermarkets had restocked their shelves many times. An entire season had come and gone. And Y/N and Daveed had spoken nearly every single day on the phone.

He'd come to learn a few key things: a health scare had kept her busy those eight days; she was allergic to bullshit and always called him out on his; she loved rose wine, or any wine really; she had the most beautiful mind.

She'd also come to learn some stuff about him: he was a university professor, specifying in classic literature; despite the muscles, he was one heck of a dork; he knew a little too much about the rap industry and was prone to throw himself into tangents about the subject; his voice was even more heavenly in the morning.

“Make yourself something to eat,” Daveed spoke down the line, a twinge of excited demand in his voice. “pour yourself a glass of wine and go up to your bedroom balcony.”

“Ooh, someone's feeling bossy tonight, huh?” Y/N laughed, switching the phone between hands as she pushed herself off of her couch, disturbing a sleeping Cooper. After a few strokes to his head, she began her journey to the kitchen, suppressing a laugh as the tired dog chose to follow her, much like he done all the time. “Am I allowed to ask why I'm doing this?”

“Just do it, before I hang up.”

“I'll add grumpy to list of Daveed Moods tonight.”

With a bowl of heated up leftover pasta, a bottle of red wine and a glass balanced in her hands, and her phone glued between her ear and her shoulder, Y/N found her way up stairs to her bedroom. She was incapable of turning on the lights until she'd put down the items in her hand. It was then, as the lights lit up her room in a warm, golden hue, that she noticed Daveed.

No, not in her room. That would have been completely creepy, and partially arousing.

He was sat out on his own balcony, room lit up behind him, with a dish of unknown food, some wine and a candle lit in front of him. He was dressed casually, yet Y/N still found herself on the cusp of drooling at the sight of him. And when he finally noticed her, Daveed waved with the most shit eating grin on his face.

“Cute onesie. What is it, a bunny?” His tone was friendly, as always, but that never stopped her from groaning in frustration at his teasing.

“Did you call me up here just to criticize my choice of clothing, Diggs? Because I was taking part in an intense Criminal Minds marathon before someone interrupted me.”

“I actually called you to invite you to enjoy the evening with me.” It was a curse and a blessing to be so foul minded, Y/N's instantly flooding her with different meanings to his words. “The sky looked pretty tonight and I need someone to appreciate it with me. Unfortunately, you're the only one who answered my call.”

“I won't hesitate to hang up.”

“Stop talking and sit down, your dinner'll get cold.”

Who knows how much time really passed as the two sat staring out at the other, bellies filled by food and wine, hearts filled with desire and longing. There was a great distance between the two balconies but Y/N couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so close to someone, even before social distancing had become the norm.

“It's crazy, I know. How can we be prepared to teach classes now that the infection rates are higher than back at the start of the year, where we all shut down?” Daveed had brought up the fact he was going back to work soon, a topic which made him a perfect blend of relieved, infuriated and confused. “I give it one semester till they make us go back to online teaching, honestly. What about you? Any signs of getting back to your office?”

“We just got the go ahead last week, we're opening back up in a fortnight.” Her reply was paused by a sip of wine, her second glass of the night. “I say we but I really mean them. My doctor told me I'm not allowed to go back yet, apparently I've got some tests left to do.”

The silence that ensued lasted quite a few minutes, then Daveed sighed down the line.

“Is it alright for me to ask why?” He seemed to regret his words instantly, at least from the limited expressions Y/N could read on his face. “I mean, the doctor thing. Are you sick or...?”

“Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner.” In their months of getting to know each other, there were times she couldn't even open the door to him when he'd deliver some of her mail or drop off a bunch of flowers he'd stolen from a neighboring garden. It was always under the excuse of doctor's orders and he never questioned or doubted her, he just accepted her for everything she said and gave of herself. “I was in a car accident a couple years ago. It wasn't fatal for anyone, thankfully, but it was pretty bad. One of my lungs ended up collapsing.

I pretty much lived in and out of the hospital for months, which almost sucked more than having a lung that was pretty much giving up on me. I don't know if you've ever spent a lot of time in hospital but it's like attending your own funeral. Everyone that visits you has this look of grief, everything they say is apologetic and there are so many tears. Not to mention the fact the place smells like a crime scene with how much bleach cleaning they do. Anyways, I'm okay now but I guess they consider me high risk or something so they're taking extra steps to make sure I'm as safe and as far away from that virus as possible.”

“So, correct me if I'm wrong, but does that mean I won't be able to take you out anytime soon?” Daveed spoke up finally, and boy was she glad that he didn't want to stick on the topic of her hospital stay. It was a dark and sad time, and she didn't want to experience any of that with him.

“Nope, not until I get permission from my doctor.”

“Can't believe I'm getting cock-blocked by some fucking virus.”

A laugh, so loud that Daveed heard it without his phone pressed to his ear, erupted from Y/N. “You'll just have to settle for balcony dates for now.”

“This isn't a date, Y/N.” It was his turn to laugh.

“Oh, sorry.” Clearly, she was worse at reading signs than she'd thought. She'd never felt more foolish in her life.

“When I eventually do take you on a date, there won't be so much space between us.” His words honestly had the chance to make or break her in that moment, her entire soul depended on whatever he said next. “It'll be a night where I take you to the most ridiculously expensive restaurant. We won't really like the food on the menu but we'll stay as part of a principle. You'll be reluctant to let me blow all my money on the bill but I'll get my way eventually. We'll find some excuse or reason to stay out. Maybe we'll find some piano bar, do some dancing, share some drinks. I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about how beautiful you look. We'll still be hungry because dinner was shit, so we'll get some fast food before you let me drive us home. I'll probably hold your hand while I drive. I'll walk you to your front door and, even if I really wish you'd invite me in, I'll be relieved when you don't. I'll try tell you how much I enjoyed our night but I'll probably fumble my words. You'll finally send me on my way but I'll find a way to steal a kiss from you. I'll probably think about your lips until the next date I take you on.”

“The english major really jumped out of you.” Y/N wished she didn't lack the self control to say something normal when a man spoke to her like Daveed did. “But, uh, that sounds really nice. Honestly. Except the bill part. We'll be splitting it or I won't be coming on that date.”

“You're so high maintenance, Y/N from door 27, but I guess that could work.” The eye-roll was audible in his tone. “Speaking of english major, I actually have a book for you to read.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I'll drop it round in the morning.”

“I'll be at the doctors in the morning, sorry.” The wine had rushed to her cheeks, heating them up and making the chill in the air all the more relaxing, lulling her into a half asleep faze.

“Don't worry, I'll leave you a note.”

#daveed x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs oneshot #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs scenario #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs smut #daveed diggs hamilton #daveed diggs clipping.#daveed diggs x y/n #valwrite

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cloudy-mysteries · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request kiss prompt number 14 with Daveed? Thank you so much!

Prompt 14: Lazy Morning Kisses Before They’ve Even Opened Their Eyes, Still Mumbling Half-Incoherently, Not Wanting To Wake Up

Thank you for requesting <3

Lazy mornings with Daveed were rare, but you always made sure that you and Daveed completely enjoyed every second of them. Usually Daveed went on morning runs before you woke up or you were already up and ready to leave for work. Lucky for you though, today was one of those infrequent situations where you just got to enjoy his sleepy presense. You woke up to kisses being pressed all over your face. Nose, forehead, cheek, mouth. You name it, his lips were all over it.

“Hi, Baby, good morning,” you said with a smile. “Good morning. How did you sleep?” Daveed asked with morning voice lacing his words. You loved the sound of it. “Good,” you responded, turning over to face him and bury yourself in the crook of his neck. You relaxed like this for a while before you tried to get up to make some coffee for the both of you, but failed. Daveed immediately wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from moving. “No, you can’t get up. You’re really warm too,” he said, nuzzling into your hair.

Although you loved going out with Daveed, you wished you could spend everyday like this; slow kisses, morning voice, just the warm company of each other wrapped in the bedsheets.

#daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed x reader #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs headcannon

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deja-you · 4 years ago

Text

since feeling is first

m. de lafayette x reader

summary: a rainy day on campus leads to desecrated poetry (based off the e.e. cummings poem)

masterlist

“since feeling is first

who pays any attention

to the syntax of things”

If you’re being honest with yourself, reading poetry in the rain makes you feel like the main character. It isn’t a completely pleasurable feeling–the water seeps into your bones in a way that will keep you cold for days. You find yourself shaking your hands free from water every few minutes and you’re certain the droplets of water are acting as magnified lenses on all the blemishes of your skin. But! You feel like the main character. It’s worth it.

That’s where he finds you, sprawled across the lap of a fading statue in the rain, clutching a rain-soaked book in your hands. He doesn’t hesitate to march over to where you’re perched to start verbally harassing you with phrases you can’t understand at first. Maybe it’s the rain, maybe it’s his accent, you can’t tell.

“What are you doing! You idiot!” He continues to call you names, some in French, but they all share the same meaning. His words are tinged with affection but he delivers them with urgency.

Just like that, he’s pulled you away from your statue and toward cover. You think it’s sweet that he cares about you, like this is something that a lover would do for their partner in a tragic novel. Perhaps you think this too loudly, because Lafayette fixes you with an intense look.

“I’m not in love with you, you know.”

You trudge through the water beside him and nod. “Good.”

He’s quiet for a moment. He reaches toward you and tugs the book of poetry out of your hands. It’s incredibly soggy and the cover is nearly falling off. Lafayette hardly gives it a second glance before tossing it toward a puddle a few feet away.

“What was that for?” You’re not irritated, mostly curious.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He says. Looking back at the book, he seems to feel a pang of guilt for littering, and to assuage his conscience he quickly adds: “I’m sure someone will think it is romantic to find a book of poetry lost in the rain tomorrow morning.”

You’re the kind of person who would find that romantic, so you don’t argue with him. The rain beats heavily on the two of you while you continue walking along in silence. Now you realize he’s walking with direction; Lafayette is walking you toward your dorm building.

“It’s what people have been saying, that’s all.” His comment comes out of the blue, and you blink at him a few times.

“Huh?”

“That I’m in love with you. That’s what people say.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He’s quiet for a little bit before he adds on: “And it’s not true.”

“I get it. I wouldn’t want you to be, anyway.” If that’s a lie, the both of you are already aware.

The rain lets up for a little bit to let a streetlight shine over the both of your faces. Neither of you take the opportunity to look at each other, hair matted down from the rain and skin soaked, you wouldn’t want him to look at you right now anyway.

The back of his hand brushes the back of yours.

He wants to tell you you’re stupid for sitting out in the rain to read, but he wouldn’t want you to think he cared too much for your well-being. Maybe he’s the stupid one for that, but if he was, he was already aware.

The two of you arrive at the steps to your dorm. Lafayette’s feet are glue now, stuck to the ground as if there were some sort of invisible boundary that he can’t cross (never mind that he’s crossed those steps to see you many times before).

It isn’t until you move to take a step forward that his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. It’s when you turn to look at him with puzzlement that he shouts it out loud enough for the entire university to hear.

“I love you!”

Your clothes feel too heavy to wear and the rain is too loud that you’re not certain it wasn’t your imagination.

“What?“

He clears his throat this time to make sure you hear him right.

“I love you.”

In this moment, his heart reaches out to yours to confirm what you already know. What you’ve always known.

“the best gesture of my brain

is less than your eyelids flutter

which says we are for each other”

#hamilton x reader #lafayette x reader #daveed diggs #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #marquis de lafayette #thomas jefferson #reader insert #hamilton fanfic #daveed x reader #kitty’s drabbles #it’s been a while since I posted #but it’s a rainy day in September and it felt right

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astralaffairs · 5 years ago

Text

Request: "Hey babe it's been a shitty day, so plz make it better by responding to this. Alright so hear me out: we've all seen the memes, so we know how ppl would react to finding out about fotp thom and mc, but remind me, do we know how Alex reacted???? Lmao there would be such chaos"

___________

"You and Jefferson are dating?" Though Alex's yell was muffled through the phone, his tone was unmistakable, and Y/N cringed at the shrill undertone beneath his fury. "When did this start? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react exactly how you are now," she said, "and, frankly, it's none of your business who I date."

"You know how long I've hated him for, Y/N," Alex snapped, and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't pick my boyfriends with your career in mind."

"But he's wrong for you," he huffed. "He's gonna prove that to you soon enough, too. He'll start treating you like shit the minute he gets whatever he needs from you."

"And what, exactly, is he trying to get from me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You've been his biggest critic in the media this entire time. He's just trying to shut you up."

"Our relationship hasn't exactly been much of a career-booster for him, either, in case you hadn't noticed," she pointed out, but he only scoffed.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He can just ride on his fucking trust fund for as long as he wants, but what about your career? You need the money."

"I still have a job, y'know. I'm just not covering domestic politics anymore."

"I knew it was suspicious when you changed departments," he muttered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "I'm coming over. We need to talk about this."

"What?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise. "No, you can't; I have Thomas here with me."

"Too bad. I'm already outside."

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"I left home the minute I saw you on his Instagram."

Y/N grinned, holding her phone against her chest as she looked up at Thomas. "Aw, babe, he follows your Instagram."

He snickered. "Tell him I'm flattered."

"It's disgusting hearing you call him that." Alex's reaction was loud and visceral enough that she could hear it even before she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Then I guess you're really gonna hate hearing our wedding vows, huh?"

"'Wedding vows'?" Thomas repeated as he raised a teasing eyebrow, folding his arms. She only shushed him, though a small smile played at her lips.

"Your what?" Alex's reaction was to a similar end, but it had a very different tone. "No. No way. This is where I draw the line. I swear to god, Y/N, if you marry him, there's no way I'm coming to your wedding."

"That's really too bad. I'm sure he'll be disappointed to hear it," Y/N said, and the sadness in her voice was mocking.

"As though he's gonna be invited when we get married," Thomas grumbled. It was her turn, then, to raise an eyebrow.

"'When'?"

He shrugged, but his grin was broad. "After you lemme know your ring size, at least."

"Isn't it a bit presumptuous of you to think I'm going to say 'yes'?"

"Don't tell me you'd really be willin' to start from square one with somebody else after everything we've been through, sweetheart," he replied matter-of-factly. "The only real question is when I propose."

"Don't get ahead of yourself just yet, Jefferson."

"I'm still here!" Alex's shout pulled her back to the phone call she was still on; she rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget?"

"Let me into your flat," he said, and Y/N looked to Thomas with wide eyes when they could hear his loud footsteps in the hallway outside.

"How'd you get up here?"

"Mira let me in."

"God, she needs to stop doing that," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Open the door."

She jumped when the sound of him banging on it echoed through her front room. "Alex—" When she regained her bearings, returned to her call, she realized she was talking to a dial tone.

"Unlock this, Y/N." His impatient voice came through the apartment door, that time, muffled, but her head shot up at the sound.

"You need to leave," she insisted. Though Thomas wore a deep-seated frown, neither she nor he moved to get the door. "I don't wanna hear your lecture on how Thomas is gonna ruin my life."

"But he is!"

Thomas rolled his eyes as he stood, and Y/N's eyebrows shot up when she watched him start toward the door. "Wait, at least let me get it," she called after him, but he didn't stop. She stood with a huff to follow him.

He unlocked it. "What d'you want?"

Y/N winced visibly when he opened the door for Alex before she could reach it, and Thomas leaned on one arm against the door frame, towering over him with an impatient eyebrow raised. Alex scowled, undeterred.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Jefferson?" he hissed. "You're really gonna toy with Y/N like this? And for what? If you're trying to get at me, at least do it directly."

The laugh Thomas let out was mirthless, condescending. "You really can't wrap your head around the idea that something isn't about you, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you've always been this self-centered."

"If it isn't about me, then what the hell is your game?" he asked, taking a step closer, but despite Alex's harsh glare, Thomas raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"D'you really think there's no way my intentions are genuine? You think Y/N's that unloveable?" he asked. "That's vicious, even for you."

"I didn't say that she—!"

"Must you two do this right now?" Y/N asked, exasperation heavy in her voice. When Thomas turned to look at her, Alex pushed past him.

"Y/N, I'm just trying to save you from him; don't you see that? He—" Alex froze, his gaze fixed over Y/N's shoulder. "Wait. Why are there so many boxes here? And why is your apartment so empty?"

"I'm moving out," she answered bluntly. He raised a wary eyebrow.

"...and going where?"

"Thomas's place."

"You're moving in together?" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "What the hell are you thinking? Has it even been two weeks since you got together?"

"I mean, officially, it's been a month," she said reasonably, "but, really, we've been fucking for almost a year."

"A year?" Alex repeated. "What the hell, Y/N? What were you thinking?"

"Well, whatever I was thinking, it looks like I'm still thinking it." She shrugged. "Or, y'know, maybe I just couldn't make rent, so I started sleeping with a rich guy. I'm trying to be thrifty."

She could hear Thomas snickering at that, but Alex looked beyond appalled. "You couldn't have gone back to sleeping with Lafayette?" —Thomas scowled— "C'mon, I know how much you like him. You didn't have to sacrifice your morals in order to sleep with him, either, unlike you do with Jefferson."

Thomas's glare was burning, and Y/N huffed. "I was never sleeping with Lafayette."

Alex furrowed his brow. "You weren't?"

"No, I—"

"She was sleepin' with me." Y/N’s skin jumped at the feeling of Thomas's arm around her waist, pulling her close as walked up beside her. Alex's eyes widened. "So fuck off, Hamilton. You can't do anything about this. 'S too late."

She couldn't tell whether it was horror or fury that shone in his wide eyes. "Y/N, you've gotta end this. He's awful and manipulative and narcissistic. Don't listen to what he's saying; it isn't too late to get rid of him."

"Is it too late to get rid of you?" she grumbled, and Alex narrowed his eyes.

"I just want the best for you."

"I don't need you telling me what's best for me," she said impatiently. "Either sit down and make peace with him, or leave. You can't just talk me out of this."

"If you wait any longer, it will be too late."

"Too late for what?" she asked. "What the hell do you think is gonna happen? He's gonna kill me in my sleep?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," he said, scowling, and she rolled her eyes.

"Thomas?" she said, turning to him.

"Hm?"

"Are you planning on killing me in my sleep?"

His mild expression didn't change when he answered, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Mmh, thanks for confirming." She turned back to Alex. "Looks like you were right. Thanks for the warning; you can go now."

"Don't just dismiss this!"

"What were you expecting? I was just going to dump him on the spot when you showed up here?" she asked, and Alex huffed, folding his arms.

"If you had any common sense, that's exactly what you'd do," he said seriously. "He manipulates people, Y/N; that's what he does! And that's what he's doing to you. Don't get attached."

"Alex—"

"Listen, Hamilton." Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose as Thomas released her waist, stepped in front of her. He stood dangerously close to Alex, who didn't move so much as a millimeter away. His expression was cold but deadpanned. "I know we've got a lotta issues. That isn't some secret. But it's not your place to try and ruin my relationship, alright? You don't see me bustin' into your house, tryin' to convince your wife to leave you."

"Are you really comparing your little fling with Y/N to my marriage?"

"Little fling?" Y/N repeated incredulously, but both men ignored her. Thomas shrugged, still staring Alex down.

"I don't see why not. You heard us talkin' about gettin' engaged when you were on the phone, didn't you?"

"No way you're actually getting married," Alex scoffed. He turned to Y/N. "You're not really gonna marry him, are you?"

"I..." When she trailed off, Thomas raised an expectant eyebrow. "I'm not having this conversation right now. I'm not about to get engaged under duress."

"See?" When Alex turned to Thomas, she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not siding with you. I love Thomas, but you can't come here and bully us into getting engaged."

At that, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Hang on, you love him now?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She groaned, rubbing her temples. "You were more willing to believe that we were were getting married than that we've already said 'I love you'? I told you we've been... sort-of together for almost a year."

"Please. This won't last." He turned back on Thomas. "Y/N's never been in a relationship for more than four months. Now that you're official," —the final word was sneered— "the clock is ticking." Alex's eyes shone with vindication when Thomas raised an eyebrow; the concern in his eyes was genuine, and his gaze flickered back to Y/N. "Yeah, that's right. Don't get comfortable. It's only a matter of time before she leaves you, too."

"Will you shut up, Alex?" She looked more frustrated than anything, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "The history you two have doesn't extend to me. I know you hate Thomas. And I also don't care. It doesn't give you the right to talk to him like that, and it absolutely doesn't give you the right to talk about me like that."

"You're just pissed because I'm right."

"No, I'm not! I just fucking hate that—" Y/N cut herself off with a shuddering breath when she heard her own voice beginning to raise. Thomas squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and she felt her tense muscles ease as she looked up at him gratefully. She turned back to Alex. "Y'know what? I want you out of my apartment. I don't have to take this from you. Especially not in my own home."

"You needed to hear it," he warned. "Someone needed to say it before this ends in disaster."

"I don't care what you think, right now. I want you to leave." Her firm tone left no room for negotiation, and although Alex glared up at Thomas, he didn't argue.

"Fine. But when he breaks your heart, you're going to regret not listening to me."

"I think I'll survive," she replied dryly. While she was watching him expectantly, he was still eyeing Thomas, and when he spoke, he disregarded her words.

"I still don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, Jefferson, but I'm not letting you get away with it," he snarled. "I can see right through you, and it's only a matter of time until Y/N does, too."

Thomas licked his lips, his jaw tight and shoulders tense. Although his expression bordered on nonchalance, his tone was threatening. "Believe whatever the hell you want, but if you really think for a second that I'm about to let you drag Y/N into your plot to ruin my life, you've got another thing coming," he said, voice low. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I seem to remember hearin' her ask you to leave."

Alex's narrowed eyes darted between Thomas and Y/N, but after several moments, he just scoffed, meeting Y/N's gaze. "When he starts treating you like shit, don't act like no one warned you it was coming."

She hummed noncommittally. "You'll be the first person I call, just so you can say, 'I told you so.'"

Though he rolled his eyes, he left without another word, slamming the door shut behind him, and Y/N let out a sigh of relief, raking a hand through her hair. "Well, he could've taken that worse."

"I dunno, sweetheart; that was pretty bad," Thomas said, and despite the skepticism in his tone, she shook her head.

"No, Alex has thrown much bigger tantrums about much smaller things," she said, "I'm pretty sure he just got most of his energy out on the car ride here."

"I’ll take your word for it, but..." Thomas trailed off, seeming to have thought better of what he was about to say, and she turned to him with her brow furrowed.

"What, was this seriously the angriest you've ever seen him?"

"Not by far." She eyed him warily when he pursed his lips. "But... what was he sayin' about none of your relationships lastin' more than four months? Was that all true?"

Her eyebrows jumped at the worry that flickered in his eyes. When she stepped forward, laid a hand on his chest, he didn't pull away, and she took that as permission enough to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, to pull him close. "You know he was just trying to get a rise out of you, right? He just wants you to feel insecure in our relationship."

"But was it true?" he asked. "You really never been with the same person for more than a couple months?"

"That has nothing to do with us."

"Answer me." He was looking down at her with severity in his gaze, and she frowned.

"Yeah. It's true." Her eyes dropped away from his as she played with the curls at the back of his neck. "Does that really change the way you look at me?"

"It changes the way I see us, if 'm honest," he murmured, and Y/N brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin.

"It shouldn't. None of my relationships lasted because I didn't love any of the people I dated. But I love you, Thomas," she said seriously. "Do you know that you're the first person I've said ever that to? Family and friends aside, of course."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She pushed herself onto her toes to kiss him lightly. "And I mean it. I've always been terrified of commitment, but... being with you doesn't scare me."

"God, I should hope not," he said, a trace of a laugh buried in his voice. "If you were scared, 'm pretty sure I'd be doin' something wrong."

"Well, in all honesty, I was an anxious wreck the first time I told you I loved you," she admitted. "I was almost hoping you'd outright reject me so that I'd have to move on."

His grin was broad. "So, what I'm hearin' is that I oughta stop makin' jokes about marriage?"

"Only if you don’t want me running for the hills," she said, but her tone was playful. "In all seriousness, if you were anybody else, I'd have started packing my bags the minute you asked me for my ring size. There’s a reason I’m still here."

"Good." He leaned down to bump his nose against hers. "'Cause I do wanna marry you. Doesn't matter to me when it happens, but I'm gonna get a ring on your finger if it's the last thing I do."

She grinned. "Go right ahead." When he kissed her, she pulled him tighter against herself and he wrapped his arms snug around her waist. "Guess I'm gonna have to call the jeweler, now," she murmured against his lips. "Gotta see when's the next time they can get me in so I can get sized for a ring."

"Who said I was the one proposing?" Thomas asked incredulously, and Y/N pulled away just enough to look him in the eye.

"Me. You're the one with all the money."

"Now, this doesn't seem quite fair."

She laughed. "Listen, when a million-dollar trust fund falls into my lap, I'll be more than happy to buy the engagement rings. But until then, the burden's on you and your inheritance, Jefferson."

"'N that's a burden I'm more than willing to take on, sweetheart," he said. "The minute I get your ring size, the trust fund'll take care of the rest."

"The minute you get it?"

"If that's what you want."

"Not so fast, Jefferson." She rested a hand on his chest. "Try living with me for a few months, and then we can revisit."

"I'm holdin' you to that."

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spideyswifey · 5 years ago

Text

I Will Try To Fix You: Thomas Jefferson x Reader Preview Part 2

Note: Hi guys! I’m honestly so sorry that I suck at updating! 🥺 But I thank you for your patience and love! So I am still working on this one, however I didn’t wanna just leave y’all hanging in the dark. So here’s another preview before I post the whole thing, which should be very soon! Keep an eye out because it will be out before Christmas! I promise that! Thanks for all the love and support babes! Enjoy this little snippet! -Cai ♥️

P.s: Y’all are gonna hate Martha. 🤭👀

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, trauma, depression, Drinking/drug use, cursing, mentions of sex. If any of this is triggering for you I’d suggest not to read.

Summary: You and Thomas Jefferson are best friends and would do anything for each other, which is exactly how you ended up at this college party. But when a creep from the football team comes too close to you, you immediately regret your decision. Your life changes in an instant and you lose yourself. Will Thomas be able to bring his best friend back?

Tags: @sillyteecup @theatrenerd86 @lindsay3002 @summerofsnowflakes @i-know-i-can @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @bravelybea

—

“So,” You spoke as you approached Thomas’s black camaro, “Besides Martha, who else is gonna be there?” “Why?” “Because if I’m going to a party, I’d like to at least have someone I like around!” “Um, hello?!?” Thomas gestured to himself. “Besides you! Lord knows you’re going straight to the table set up with beer pong once we get there, so I’d like to have some company while you’re busy getting drunk outta your mind!” “Huh, you know what good point!” “Mhm!” “But!” Thomas interjected, “I promise not to get shit-faced this time, only mildly tipsy. Lord knows I make the wrong decisions when I’m drunk!”

“Kinda how you ended up with Martha in the first place isn’t it?” You pointed out. “Ugh, please don’t remind me!” Thomas groaned while leaning his head back for a second, before bringing his eyes back to the road. “That’s the exact reason I ain’t getting drunk! I won’t be able to think straight and she’ll sink her claws in!” “Ok I get it! She’s bad for you, which is what I had said in the beginning.” You mumbled that last part, but he heard you anyways. “I know Y/n, I know. You told me so, you’re always right!” “I didn’t say that...but I mean I won’t stop you from doing so.” You playfully smirked, trying to keep the atmosphere light in order not to fight.

—

But you were right. You knew from the moment you met her, that Marta was toxic! She was manipulative, devious, and not to mention, a bitch! Thomas had met Martha at, of course, a party! Thomas was super drunk and immediately taken by her, one thing led to another and they hooked up. The next morning he asked her out and she agreed. At the start of their relationship, she had him wrapped around her finger. Anything she wanted Thomas would get her, and since he was loaded, she wanted everything! The newest pair of Louboutins, that Gucci designer bag hanging on display, those Raybans that would go so well with her outfit to the beach; she got it all! You saw right through her, but Thomas was blinded by the adoration he had for her. But you could tell he was miserable inside. Though every time you tried to bring up Martha’s actions, he always made an excuse for her. “She’s just stressed and shopping relaxes her.” “It was my fault, I bought her the wrong Chanel purse.” “No, he’s just her study partner, she’s never do that to me!”

But she did.

She did, and without any remorse! He caught her when he went to her place to drop off the notebooks she left in his car since she was going to “study” that night. What he saw made both the notebooks in his hands, and his heart, drop. There she was, making out with her “study partner” on the couch. When they heard the thump of the notebooks hitting the floor, they pulled apart and saw a heartbroken Thomas in front of them. And all that bitch said was “Let’s be honest, Thommy. You should’ve saw this coming! You never really paid attention to what I wanted! You never got me the right things I needed and you spent too much time with that slut you call your best friend! Face it sweetie, you’re just not good enough for me!”

Thomas had no words. He just stormed out, tears streaming down his face as he ran to his car. You were on your couch watching Civil War when you heard frantic knocking on your door. The sight in front of you made your heart ache. There in front of your dorm was your best friend, eyes red and tears streaming down his face. “Tho-” “She cheated on me!” Immediately, you brought him in to sit on your couch and vent about what he just witnessed moments ago.

You were there for him through it all. You remember hugging him tight and doing your best to comfort him through his heartbreak. You remember the anger you felt for that dumb gold digging bitch. You remember how miserable Thomas had felt. You remember the nights he’d call you asking you why he wasn’t good enough. She broke him. What was once your cocky, flirty, dumb best friend was now a heartbroken man in shambles.

For the next month you were with him everyday trying to cheer him up and get him out of his rut. Slowly but surely he started to be him old self again and you got your best friend back.

Though every now and then, she would show up at the same place Thomas was, both would be drunk-him more than her- she’d flirt, he’d fall for her charms again, and they’d end up in bed once more; leaving Thomas to regret it in the morning. There were no more feelings involved for Thomas but lust. He would say that he wanted to just feel it one more time before he moved on for good. But one more time was at least 3 times, the last time you checked. He needed to stay away from her before those feelings came back and before he lets his heart get broken once more. Thus, why you were going to the party in the first place; to prevent a regrettable “one-night stand” for your best friend.

—

“Yeah yeah, nice try. There’s only enough room in this car for one big ego!” Thomas spoke, interrupting your previous thoughts. “Ain’t no arguement here!” You joked. Thomas just rolled his eyes as he continued to drive.

“Burr and Mads will be there.” Thomas said, answering the question you asked minutes before. “Ok, but where there’s Aaron, there’s Theo; and I’m not gonna be a third wheel to those two, no matter how cute they are!” Thomas let out a slight chuckle. “And I love James but knowing him, he’ll be too stoned outta his mind to even have a full conversation.” “Ok true,” he held up one hand in surrender, before placing it back on the steering wheel.

“The Schuylers will be there.” Your eyes widened with surprise. “Dude! Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?!? I mean don’t get me wrong, I love James and Aaron, but those are my girls!” “I didn’t want to mention them being there because I know you’re gonna head straight towards them once we get there.” “And that’s bad because...?” Thomas sighed, “I have nothing against the schuylers, they’re lovely.” “Buuuuut?” You pushed. “Where there’s the Schuyler sisters, there’s Hamilton and his crew.” Thomas huffed.

It was no secret that Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton had beef. They just couldn’t see eye to eye. You on the other hand, had nothing against him or his crew. Sure, Alex could be a little arrogant, but hey, so was Thomas! If you were able to deal with his cocky ass for seven years, you were sure getting along with Hamilton would be a walk in the park; for you at least.

“C’mon T, they’re not all that bad.” You tried. “You’re right, Lafayette is cool, and Mulligan’s alright. Hamilton and Laurens are the assholes.” You sighed. “Alright look, I’m coming to this party with you to help you stay away from Martha, not to keep you out of fights. So please don’t start anything!” “I won’t.” Thomas reassured you. “Good.” “As long as Hamilton keeps his mouth shut.” He mumbled. “Thomas!” You glared at him. “Ok ok! I promise sweetheart, no fights!” “I’m holding you to that!” You kept your cold gaze for a second longer before relaxing your face again.

Thomas finally pulls up to the house with music blasting and lights flashing from inside. Yup, you were definitely at the right spot. You took a breath as you tried to ease your nerves before opening the car door. “Hey!” Thomas grabbed your hand before you had the chance to step out of the vehicle. “Look, I know this ain’t really your scene, so I really appreciate you doing this for me Y/n, honestly.” “It’s no problem T, really. You’d know I’d do anything for you, ya dork!” You smiled cheekily while gently squeezing his hand in reassurance and comfort. Thomas let out a small snicker at your words before continuing. “If it gets too much after about an hour, then we can leave, ok?” You nodded in response. “Ok, then let’s do this!” Thomas beamed.

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itevilhag · 5 years ago

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See, I'm smiling

:Thomas Jefferson x reader!

A/N: this one is inspired by that scene and the song "See, I'm smiling" from The Last Five Years, damn that musical is so underrated i mean come on! The is story is great and how it was written is actually kinda genius, the backwards/forwards thing and having them meet in the middle is just👌

You and Thomas sat their at the pier in silence both not knowing what to say, your hands fitting perfectly on his, your head on his shoulder, both enjoying the silence. You lift your head up to look at him, admiring his features as he stares at the lake, the movement made Thomas turn his head toward you.

"What?" Thomas asked his brows slightly furrowed, a small smile making its way to his lips "Nothing. I guess I can't believe you really came" you smiled, squeezing his hand.

"And that were sitting on this pier" you started to look around the peaceful lake and the surroundings "See I'm smiling. That means I'm happy that you're here"

"I stole this sweater from the costume shop, it makes me look like Daisy Mae" Thomas laughed and you chuckled "See, were laughing. I think we're gonna be okay" you looked at him softly and nodded.

"I mean, we'll have to try a little harder and bend things to and fro. To make this love special as it was five years ago"

"I mean you made it to Ohio! Who knows where else we can go?" Thomas started to lean in but you turned your face away "I think you're really gonna like this show, I'm pretty sure it doesn't suck" Thomas laughed again "See, you're laughing and I'm smiling, by a river in Ohio and you're mine, we're doing fine"

Thomas tilted your chin up to meet his eyes "Hey, i love you" you smiled "i love you too, so much" he leaned in again but this time you don't turn away, meeting him half way the kiss was sweet and filled with passion, his hand cupping your cheek, yours went to rake it through his hair, you pulled away for air when your lungs started to burn.

"So we'll just start again this weekend and just keep roling along" Thomas stood up offering his hand to you, you took it and started to walk beside him, but then he suddenly stopped.

"Baby I'm sorry but i can't stay. I have somethings to do back in New York. I wanna stay with you here and see you're show but I can't"

Your smile faltered a little bit. He has to leave again "I didn't know you had to go so soon, I thought we had a little time"

"Yeah Y/N baby i know, but those meetings are important" Thomas reasoned "But so am i" you wanted to say but instead you replied.

"Look, whatever, if you have to then you have to, so whatever It's all right" you wrapped your hands around his neck, your noses almost touching, his hand went down your waist holding you close.

"We'll have tonight"

"But the tickets that i bought were for tonight. The flights for tommorow are already booked so..." You looked at him indignantly for a moment before you free yourself from the embrace, raking a hand through your hair you say.

"You know what makes me crazy? I'm sorry, can i say this? You know what makes me nuts? The fact that we could be together here together sharing our night, spending our time and you are gonna choose someone else to be with"

"Y/N that's not true-"

"No, you are. Yes, Thomas that's exactly what you're doing you could be here with me or be there with them. As usual, guess which you pick!"

"Y/N those are meetings important to me i could lose my job-"

"No, Thomas, you do not have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know. You could stay with your wife on her fucking birthday and you could, god forbid, even see my show and I know in your soul it must drive you crazy that you won't get to play with your little girlfriends" you stated your voice starting to rise from time to time.

"'Girlfriends'? What are you talking about?"

"The point is, Thomas that you can't spend a single day that's not about you and you and nothing but you marvelous novelist, you! Isn't he wonderful, just twenty-eight! The savior of writing!" He started to scoff.

"You and you and nothing but you miles and piles of you pushing through windows and bursting through walls en route to the sky!- And I..." The tears that was welling up in your eyes seconds ago started to stain your cheeks, you withdrew a shaky breath, wiping your tears you turned to him, his face had soften, looking slightly guilty.

"I swear to god i'll never understand" you smiled bitterly "How you can stand there straight and tall, and see i'm crying and not do anything at all."

#thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson drabble #daveed diggs #the last five years #see I'm smiling

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itslocsdiggs · 5 years ago

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In honor of my guitar string tuning to D the minute I struck it(and then falling out of tune 5 minutes later, but whatevs) y'all win a quick Diggs drabble!

"Babe I'm going to sleep" you say softly to your boyfriend, intently focused on his notebook and pen with headphones in. He'd been working on a new beat all evening. While it was fun to watch him work, now you're tired.

You do your routine before turning on the A/C and sliding under the covers.

Then you hear a pop, pop, thwish! five. times. in. a. row

After tossing and turning the sheets, you toss away the covers in frustration and storm out to the living room.

"Daveed! Do you have the earplugs?"

He looks at you with a wounded expression, "Is my singing that bad, Y/N"?

"Never, baby. Outside, however is another story."

He pulls off one earmuff and listens, "Oh those fireworks? That's why I work late and keep my headphones on. You can't sleep?"

You shake your head.

"Come here," he calls to you from the doorway. Daveed sets his notebook and computer aside so that you can sit on his lap. He stroked your arms, and presseda soft kiss to the side of your head.

Daveed thought for a moment, then spoke against your neck, "Hmm. If I were a lizard would you love me?"

You giggle, staring up at Daveed in the dim light.

"No, because you wouldn't give such amazing cuddles," you yawn in response wrapping your arms around him.

You lay across his chest and he hums your favorite songs. Soon you're asleep on his chest.

He picked you up and carried you to bed. It looked like you wouldn't be needing earplugs after all.

#no more fireworks #here #i just thought it was cute #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs #drabble

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elocinnicole · 2 years ago

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Shopping List

Paring: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: All can engage

Summary: Daveed asks Reader for a shopping list

AN: A quick little Drabble I missed Family Man Daveed

Family is Everything Masterlist

Tag List: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriesss @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slasherfan-weeb @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @cyrstalannetem @tuhnayshuh

#daveed diggs #elocinnicole #daveed diggs x black!reader #daveed diggs x reader #family is everything #texting #drabble #drabbles

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ramp-it-up · 4 years ago

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Definitely, Yes

#RampitUp1Kinktober Day 20

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Summary: Daveed slides you that birthday present.

1Kinktober Kink: Hair Pulling

Word Count: 583

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Oral sex (f receiving) hair pulling, butt slapping, squirting, pulling out. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

This is part of the Definitely Not series.

A/N: This is for the 20th DAY of #rampitup1Kinktober! TYSM for following me! 🧡

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself

Prev part: Definitely, Possibly

———

So you decided to let Daveed slide…

Up in you after the party.

You were wet all night and he knew it. So after everyone left, he came back through to blow your backout.

It was your birthday, so he treated you to his favorite treat: cunninlingus.

You current situation:

You were plastered it seemed, to your bed, legs held wide open by Daveed’s large, treacherous handsome thumbs at your apex, and long, thick, big ass tongue swiping your labia and your clitorous so thoroughly that you thought he was a professional cleaner.

His nose bumped your clit so many times that she was hard and plucky, easy for Daveed’s lips to grip.

You were holding on for dear life. To his hair. His curls were entwined around your fingers as you tugged and tried to ground yourself in some kind of reality, because he was taking you places higher, even higher than the Reading Rainbow. Everytime you pulled, he either grunted, groaned, or cursed. It was a litany of pornography.

He made you cum three times, the last squriting all over his pretty smile.

That was when he took pity on you.

You thought.

You lay there shivering, any thoughts of why you thought you hated him fleeing when you saw his erect cock.

You didn’t say what you wanted to say, just stared back at his dick and back at him, wide eyed.

He grinned down at you and reached for you, flipping you over and stared at your ass. You didn’t see him biting his lip and shaking his head, you just felt him rubbing it, shaking it to see it jiggle, and then smack it on each cheek.

You were so worked up that you moaned in pleasure and were pliable in his hands as he grabbed your hips and pulled you up on your knees.

He positioned himself, wiggling your pussy against his thick head, gauging that it was going to be a tight fit. You closed your eyes and huffed as he slid inside you, elated that you were correct. He felt amazing inside you.

Daveed had to stop and catch his breath. You were heaven and hell all at once. Your defiance and attitude vexed him, but your soft side, especially your soft cunt, made him deliriously happy.

He set about to dig deep and find out more about you, starting with how many times he could make you cum this way.

He grabbed your curls now and tugged, pulling deliciously at the root, the sensation in your scalp enhancing what his cock was doing to destroy your cunt.

You were seeing stars after two more, and on your sixth orgasm, Daveed pulled your hair even harder with one hand while he pulled out and finished on your back with the other.

The sensation of hot seed on your back and his continued grip on your hair made you quiver, and then you both collapsed on the bed.

Daveed looked over at you and smiled, causing you to squint. You smiled back. You should probably stop pretending you hate him now.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks, Diggs. That was a pretty nice present.”

You were so freakin cute to him.

“Did your wish come true?”

His eyes twinkled devilishly.

“I’m not telling you. It’s bad luck.”

You pouted at him, which made his heart do crazy things. Oh shit.

“That’s okay. Give me a minute. I’ll make it come true again.”

“I hate you,” you said as you laughed.

“I know.”

--------

I think it was short but sweet, wbu?

Next part, first part, full circle.

Tags:

@einfachniemand @sillyteecup @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @elocinnicole @nikole-witha-k @braidedchallah @sebastianabucknettastan @jbrizzywrites @mysearchforgratification @chattykathysquietsister @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @curlyhairclub @na-nou83 @subwaysurf45 @batboysdoll @harrysthiccthighss @simpinforu @maroonsunrise83

#rampitup1kinktober #Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs x black reader #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs drabble #Daveed Diggs smut #daveed diggs x reader #ask dj #daveed diggs rpf #rpf

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iknowthekoolaidflavor · 5 years ago

Note

hi! i dunno if your requests are open or not, buut i was wondering if you’d be up for writing some more little!reader x daveed? i just read the first one you posted and just fell in love 🥺 thank you!

Just a short one because I miss little!reader with cg!Daveed

When Daveed came home, he wasn’t expecting to see you dressed in your favorite Elmo t-shirt, cuddling your stuffie on the couch. It was almost 9:00 pm, which shocked him the most.

“Why are you still up, baby?”

“I missed you”

Daveed stopped in his tracks with his heart warming at the sentiment. Most nights, you stayed up well past nine o’clock, but when you were little, he made sure you were in bed by nine.

“I missed you too, but it’s almost bedtime”

He wanted to laugh when he heard the groan escape your lips. He turned off the TV and carried you up the stairs.

“You know the drill baby”, he grinned

Daveed sat on the counter in the bathroom, singing as he brushed your teeth to make sure you brushed for two minutes. After changing his clothes and using the bathroom, he got under the covers with you.

“Why the long face?”

“Don’t wanna go to bed”, you pouted

“Aww baby”, he cooed, “Every princess has to be in bed by their bedtime”

“I don’t want to be a princess”, you said with a frown

“Then who are you if you’re not my princess?”, he gasped, “You want to be bad?”

“No”, you said, eyes going wide

Daveed pulled you close, allowing you to snuggle into his side. You relaxed at the sound of his steady heartbeat.

“I’ll tell you what”, Daveed reasoned, “If you go to bed tonight, I’ll let you stay up until 10 tomorrow”

“Ten?”

He never let you stay up that long.

“I’ll even make you pancakes in the morning because you’re being such a good girl for me”

You looked away as your cheeks started to burn. It always made you shy when he talked to you like that. Daveed littered your cheeks with kisses as you squealed, writhing in his arms. You screamed for him to stop in between laughs, but to no avail. When you calmed down, Daveed placed one last kiss on your cheek and held you tight.

“Pancakes. Morning”, you reminded him

“I would never risk disappointing you like that. Good night, princess”

Daveed stayed up, waiting for you to fall asleep first. After a few moments, his heart beat put you at ease and you were asleep in his arms. He could finally get some sleep knowing you were safe.

#little!reader #little!reader x daveed #little!reader x daveed diggs #daveed diggs #daveed diggs drabble #anon #rose answers #rose speaks #daveed diggs x reader #daveed x reader

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valwrite · 5 years ago

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empty lighter; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: it’s fascinating, the things people leave behind in our lives. memories, possessions, scars, emotions. over the course of his life, daveed had collected so much from people who he’d left behind. but all he has left of her is a lighter and a broken heart.

warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive content, way too many cigarettes.

fic style: oneshot.

word count: 11.4k

author’s note: ah! it’s finally here! my first ever oneshot on this blog. hopefully, you guys enjoy reading it. is it the best writing in the world? no. but it doesn’t matter, i’m so proud of myself for actually getting back into writing, to the point where i was able to start and finish an 11k word fic. i’ve edited this over 10 times, so if there’s still an error in it, i’m going to cry. feedback, likes and reblogs are 100% appreciated!

December, 2015

Sweat was in the air and, with it, a scent one would hardly call enjoyable. With his behind comfortably sat in a cushioned bar stool, the man done his best to ignore the scenery of the busy club: the ever moving mass of bodies on the dance floor; the headache inducing remix of California Girls, which the evening's DJ was playing for what felt like the millionth time that night; the sight of his best friend hitting on some poor unsuspecting girl just trying to order drinks for herself and her friends. Instead, he focused on the drops of condensation and the pattern they left behind as they dripped down the side of his glass.

The speakers began to play yet another remix. Daveed rolled his eyes and welcomed another sip of his drink, this time not returning the glass to the counter top until the caramel liquor was all gone. The burning feeling was familiar and anchored him down in reality, a bitter yet accepted reminder that, once again, he found himself in the same situation he'd been in for over a year: alone, while being surrounded by sweating bodies. Sat at a bar, his friend off chasing some nameless girl and nothing but his loneliness, which only grew with each breath he drew, to keep him company.

His friend, Rafael, made eye contact with him and beckoned him over. So he stood but made no attempt to approach and discover whatever plan Rafa had in store for him. He knew the blonde haired man just a little too well at that point. He knew that the man was desperate to get his friend back to the state he'd been in four months prior, where every night was a thrill and an opportunity to get tangled up in some sheets with a pretty stranger and some pain numbing lust. In Rafa's weak defense, he had no idea what had switched in his friend to revert him back into a self pitying mess. He hadn't bore witness to the scene Daveed had stumbled upon all those months ago, a scene which sent him rapidly spiraling back to the rut he'd been stuck in the first two months after the break up.

Daveed shook his head, his wilder than usual curls bouncing from side to side as he focused on getting his mind off of the break up, off of the ring store, off of her. He couldn't afford another night of wasted tears. He headed in the opposite direction of Rafa and found himself breathing fresh air for the first time in hours as he stepped out on to the busy New York street. A car honked in the near distance and the street lights just about matched the neon lights which had lit up the club but Daveed felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest. Clubs had always been a part of his social and professional life yet recent events had left him feeling claustrophobic inside them. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't like that this was his social life again. Nights spent in clubs, mornings spent with uncaring strangers, afternoons spent in regret and nausea. Where had the nights of home cooked meals gone? The mornings he'd spent shielding his beloved from the harsh light of the rising sun? The afternoons where it didn't matter what wasted the time away, all that mattered was the hand clasped tightly in his and the woman it belonged to? He wanted them back.

Daveed wanted her back.

He'd been so consumed in his own thoughts that, when he finally focused in on his surroundings again, he was only a block away from his apartment and the club was long behind him. He figured he could text Rafa once he got inside, he'd understand why Daveed walked out. He probably already knew. A shy voice calling out his name caught his immediate attention and Daveed paused mid step. The voice seemed familiar, comforting, adoring. His breath caught in his throat and he swore he was dreaming. It took a moment or two for him to turn around and face his pursuer.

Disappointment burst forth inside him but he had to conceal the drop in his smile, especially when he noticed the young girl who was smiling at him with a gleam of excitement in her eyes and a familiar logo printed on her black t-shirt. He hadn't been dreaming, just delusional.

The fan was kind enough. She'd shyly asked him for a picture before gushing over how excited she'd been at one of last week's shows at the theater. Her brief mentioning of clipping. had meant more to Daveed than anything else she'd said, which he knew was a little selfish of him but he couldn't help it. Clipping., unlike the current Broadway show he was a part of, was truly something that was his to own. Sure, there were two other guys involved along with him, but the words he spat and the emotions and meanings laced within them were all Daveed's. To have it gain praise was a direct boost to his ego.

With a happier feeling installed in him, Daveed found himself unlocking the door to his apartment. He didn't bother untying his laces, his shoes simply being kicked off and left near the front door as he made his way into the familiar apartment. He ignored the state the place was in and dropped down on to the comfort of the leathered loveseat, finding some form of tranquility in the disorganization of his own belongings. It somehow made the place feel closer to home. Despite the fact he'd been staying there since pre-production of Hamilton, Daveed still felt disconnected. Not just to the apartment but the whole city. Perhaps, he felt too loyal to the Bay area to allow himself to get too comfortable with living on the east coast. More likely, it had to do with the fact she wasn't there with him, like she was supposed to be, like they'd both agreed.

Engraved in his mind was the memory of Y/N 's face, lit up with glee as she strolled in and out of the different rooms of the place, her voice rising in volume as she ranted and raved about all the ways they could set up the apartment- their apartment, a first of many homes together; god, just thinking of it brought a smile to his face and a dizzy feeling to his head-, and her list of all the ways they could spend any free time they could get: the little cafes they could visit, the monuments they could see, the streets they could walk. He could so vividly remember pulling her into his arms, his lips confidently claiming her own against them. He held her there for their own little infinity, one hand fisted in her hair, the other splayed out against her lower back as her own softly grabbed at his jumper and held him down to her, as if he'd ever dream of leaving her. Her soft laughter had echoed off the walls as she pulled away. He couldn't stand having his mouth off of her and settled with peppering kisses down her exposed neck whilst she jokingly accused him of just wanting her to shut up. He didn't even know how to begin to explain how far from the truth that was. That, in reality, he'd just felt such a desperate need to have her against him because he wasn't entirely sure if she was real or if the life and relationship they'd built together had been nothing but a cruel dream of his. She was too good, her love was too good and he, a man who's career was built off of his eloquence and mastering of word play, was at a complete loss for words when it came to loving her. Heavy breathing and discarded clothing was the way he'd chosen to express his love that evening, breaking in their new apartment. The very same apartment where their relationship would come to an abrupt end no more than two weeks later.

There was a pain growing in Daveed's chest, which he could only imagine was a side effect of his shattered heart attempting to continue beating. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He already knew it was Rafa before he even looked at the screen and answered the call.

“Hey man!” Rafa's cheery voice burst through the speaker and Daveed pulled the phone back from his ear, not having expected the volume of his friend’s voice or the questionable Cotton Eyed Joe remix in the background. “Where'd you go? I got a couple girls here that were looking forward to meeting you!”

“Yeah, I... I'm meeting Oak early tomorrow, got some magazine the cast is doing a shoot for.” In his own defense, Daveed wasn't lying. There was a photo shoot and he was meeting Oak in the morning but that wasn't the reason he'd left.

If Rafa knew his friend was evading the truth, he thankfully kept it to himself. “Ah, so the princess needs her beauty sleep? Your loss, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop wasting your time on me and go enjoy yourself.”

“Have fun with your face masks and beauty creams! Oh, and Daveed?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't try shaving yourself tomorrow, leave it to the professionals. Don't want any nasty cuts on that precious face.”

Having hung up, Daveed carelessly flung his phone down on to the couch and watched it bounce once before laying flat on it's screen. The walls of the apartment were beginning to suffocate him, so much unfilled and unused space now suddenly feeling like it was caging him in, mocking him, taunting him with every echo of his own breathing that bounced off the walls. There was an itching in his lungs and his fingers had began to fiddle with themselves.

Daveed wasn't a particularly anxious person. Yet, anxiety was swelling in his throat and he ashamedly knew why. With his head hung low, Daveed blindly reached for the square packet and the cylinder lighter and headed straight for the balcony door. Opening it, he allowed the outside world to infiltrate his senses once more and it stole away some of his loneliness. The noise and lights and traffic were all a sign of life beyond his own, evidence that he wasn't truly alone in the world. Any loneliness he faced was product of his own creation, an isolation he'd comfortably settled with.

He hadn't put his whole life on pause. No, Daveed wasn't that careless. He woke up every morning and walked out the front door, prepared to face the day with as earnest of a smile as possible. He'd laugh with friends, speak with fans, give his all in his performances. But the feeling of longing would never truly leave him. Rafa could see it, most of the Hamilton cast too. They all knew there was an unspoken part of Daveed that was in denial of her absence. They could see it in the way his eyes never lingered much on beautiful women; in the way he kept her picture in his dressing room; in the way he still carried his part of their matching keyrings. But, what else could they do other than be there for him? She'd walked out with his lifeline and had left nothing but a Daveed shaped shell, hollow and devoid of life, just waiting for the day she walked back into his arms. He was pathetic. Foolish. Selfdestructive.

And so painfully in love with Y/N, even though it no longer seemed fair to feel that way.

The metal handrail was cold to the touch as he let his hands run over it, his eyes gazing down at the active nightlife below. His hands robotically opened the packet and out of it he pulled a cigarette. The nicotine stick found itself resting between his plush lips. The lighter was sparked up, the cigarette set a light and an inhalation of sweet smoke was taken. He'd always felt smoking alone was one of the most solemn of experiences. A couple more drags were taken before he became fixated with the lighter in his hand. He lit it up just to watch the flame dance, not a care in the world for the wasted lighter fluid. It didn't take much longer for his treacherous mind to drift towards the empty lighter inside his sock drawer and, most importantly, the memories attached to it.

A younger Daveed, freshly off stage and with sweat drying into his skin, had pushed past the drunken messes and the grinding pairs to escape for a breath of fresh air and a cigarette. Standing up in front of a crowd was a thrill, truly, but Daveed was still shy at his core and the hyperawareness of his own performance brought on a stress only nicotine could soothe.

The exit had taken him out into a back alley. The bass of whatever song was playing indoors could still be felt but the street was thankfully pretty calm, no one else there but another smoker and a couple making out further down from the door. A few steps out into the alley and he stopped, bending his right leg at the knee to perch his foot back against the brick wall as his hands occupied themselves fishing out a cigarette.

“Shit.” A curse escaped him as the realization hit that he'd forgotten to bring a lighter with him. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and huffed, a hand running through his curls. Maybe he wouldn't be getting that stress reliever that evening after all.

“Need a light?” Daveed nearly jumped at the unexpected voice, his foot slipping off of the wall and his back straightening. When his eyes landed on a girl, who was wrapped up in an oversized jacket and had her arm outstretched with a blue lighter dangling between her fingers, he was certain she hadn't been there when he'd stepped outside. Egotistically, he wondered if she'd perhaps followed him. Stupidly, he wished she had.

Daveed caught himself before he could stare at her for too long, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from her face down to the lighter she was still offering. With gratitude, he took it from her grasp and put it to good use. Seconds later, his lungs were filling with poison and his face with relief. Turning his attention back to her, he found the girl already staring at him. Unlike most, she didn't avert her gaze in shame of being caught. She only focused more intently on him, a ghost of a smile presenting itself on her features. “Thanks, uh, pretty lucky you came out here.”

“If you want to label me following you as luck, then sure.” The calmness of her voice, the way she shrugged so nonchalantly, the way her side was resting up against the wall and her eyes were shamelessly trailing over him were a hypnotic mixture strong enough for Daveed to nearly miss the words she'd spoke. Had he missheard or had she actually followed him? Freaked out would be the normal response. Flattery is what took it's place in Daveed, though. “That was quite a performance, very... lively.”

“Yeah,” A chuckle escaped him and his free hand shot up to rub the back of his neck. “that was one of our tamer crowds, believe it or not. Glad you enjoyed it.”

“I never said I enjoyed it.” The smile had slipped from her face, visually punctuating her words. Then, much to Daveed's relief, she broke out in a fit of giggles and the friendliness in her voice had returned. “I'm only messing! You were amazing but, honestly, the other two of your group are the unsung heroes. They really held it down.”

Daveed wasn't about to deny her statement, knowing fine well just how vital the two men were to him. If he were the ink, they were the paper he wrote on and the pen that encapsulated him. Her praise for them only made Daveed enjoy her company more.

From there, the two continued to partake in casual conversation: her asking about how long clipping. had been a thing, him asking her about her studies and the cold air of the night slowly urging the two to stand closer and closer and closer. There was laughter in the air and comfort in their bones, almost as if the two had been lifelong friends catching up and not two strangers meeting in a back alley. Daveed had long finished his cigarette and he knew his friends would be wondering where he'd disappeared to but he wasn't ready to walk away from the conversation, from her, and so out he pulled another, perching it between his lips. He hadn't had the chance to ask for her lighter, she'd beat him to it and sparked it up. He bent at the knee a little as he leaned down, both of them sharing eye contact whilst she held the flame to it. This time around, Daveed offered the cigarette packet out to her, hoping to repay her in some way.

“I don't smoke, but thanks.”

“You don't smoke, but you carry around a lighter?” His head tilted off to the side and a cheeky grin overtook his face. “You're kinda weird.”

“And you're a charmer, aren't you?” She rebutted, though no offence was really taken. “You're not the only smoker who forgets to bring a lighter. My boyfriend has a habit of doing it, so I carry one around for him.”

The window of hope inside of his mind was shattered by one simple word. Boyfriend. Of course she was taken. She was the kind of girl who you met in the morning and were in love with come the evening.

“Anyways,” Her voice interrupted his disappointment. “you distracted me from the reason I followed you out here!”

“Yeah? And what reason was that?”

“My friend thinks you're hot. Well, no, actually, I believe the exact words she used were "If he can rap that fast, I wonder what else he can do with his tongue. I don't usually climb trees but I could make an exception if the tree looks like him."” She'd used air quotes to signal just what her friend had said and, for the first time since the two had met, Daveed felt bashful. He hadn't expected her to say such a thing, even if it was just mimicking her friend.

“And you wouldn't happen to be this friend?” Daveed teased.

“I prefer my men on the shorter side, thank you very much." Her tongue darted out at him and he laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone stick their tongue out as an insult. Maybe in third grade? "My friend wants your number, though. And also wanted me to subtly convince you to invite us to come sit at your table but I'm really too tired to be subtle so, please just invite us.”

They'd returned inside not too long after, together, and off she'd gone to grab her friend to drag her over to Daveed's table. And while her friend was beautiful and flirting with Daveed the whole night, he found himself staring over at the girl from the alley every chance he got. He'd watched her do shots with Jonathan, watched as she and Rafa competed in a thumb war, watched as she'd knocked back a shot as her forfeit for losing. At some point in the night, Daveed had asked for her name and, at another point, she'd told him it was Y/N. And when he finally stumbled back into his own bed that night, his eyes staring up at his ceiling as he flipped the blue lighter in his hand, he thought of her.

Wetness dropped onto his hand and tore Daveed away from the memory playing on repeat in his mind. A single tear sat atop his hand and, in the other, a finished cigarette. Stubbing it out, he dropped the bud into a nearby ashtray and centered himself. Tears stung at his eyes and his breath was shaky but he was determined to push through and talk himself out of a full on breakdown.

Hours later, when sleep was finally coming for him and the warmth of his duvets embraced him instead of her arms, his wandering hands reached deep inside his drawer and pulled out the blue lighter as his eyes slipped shut and his mind drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

A blaring song and a loud buzzing noise woke Daveed up in a startle. He sat up, eyes still half shut and the duvet slipping down his naked chest. The noise persisted and he realized it was his own ringtone, playing from the pocket of his discarded jeans. He cursed under his breath when he stepped out of the bed, his foot landing on something uncomfortable before eventually meeting the soft carpet and giving him the leverage to reach the bottom of his trousers, dragging them over to find his phone screen lit up with Oak's name painted across the screen.

“What do you want?” Daveed was never a morning person and had no shame in this, especially when his sleep was interrupted.

“Good morning Oak! How are you? Oh I'm fine Daveed, how are you?” The overly chipper voice of Okieriete birthed a groan out of Daveed as he dropped back onto the bed behind him.

“It's too early for this, dude.”

“It's ten minutes away from being noon!”

“I rest my case.”

“C'mon man, we were supposed to be catching a ride together to head to the shoot. Now our car is ten minutes away and I arrive at your doorstep to find you're not even awake, never mind ready.” Oak's words were followed by a series of knocks, which Daveed could hear through the phone but also coming faintly from outside his bedroom.

“Shit.” Realizing that, amidst the flurry of pity and nicotine, he'd forgotten to set his alarm, Daveed begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed, tired legs with muscles stiff from sleep carrying him all the way over to the front door of his apartment, all the while Oak berated him over the phone and knocked away at the wood. Twisting the keys, Daveed pulled the door open at last and found Oak stood there, fist raised in mid knock.

“You look like shit.” Oak proceeded to brush past him and, after closing his front door again, Daveed followed the man to find him with his hand knuckle deep in a tub of peanut butter.

“Please, make yourself at home.” It was no more than a mutter under his breath but Oak had heard it and responded with a peanut butter coated middle finger.

The crappy coffee maker was switched on and Daveed went back into the messy bedroom. He'd just pulled some sweatpants over his legs when he heard Oak calling out to him from the kitchen. Slipping one of his t-shirts on, from his ever growing collection of Oakland attire, he made his way back over to the man and the freshly brewed coffee- which, without a doubt, was not going to be warm enough nor sweet enough- only to find his friend had abandoned the jar of peanut spread and instead was flicking through his mail. Despite this, a sip of underwhelming caffeine was more of a priority than questioning Oak.

“Who's Raquel and why is she inviting you to her wedding?” Now that, that was certainly more important than coffee.

Dropping his mug back onto the counter with almost enough force to shatter it, Daveed dove forward and ripped the envelope out of Oak's hands. Just like he'd said, inside of it was a wedding invitation from one Raquel Castro. The very same girl who'd once sent her friend to ask for his number. The very same girl who'd helped him plan out his first date with her best friend. The very same girl who'd been sneakily finding out what Y/N's ring size was only two months before his world came crashing down.

Given the memories he'd recalled the night before, part of Daveed couldn't help but think this invitation was more than a simple coincidence. A week after the break up, Raquel had called him. She'd been angry and accusatory with her words but it stemmed from her own confusion and inability to comprehend why things had ended so hastily between him and Y/N. Daveed couldn't understand it himself either. The call had ended up being the first thing to make him smile in his new found singleness. The two had maintained frequent contact from there on out, casual texts sent between them both just around once every month, Raquel had even taken a trip into New York with her fiancé and stopped by one of the Hamilton performances. But this invite, it had to be some sort of sign from the universe, a sign involving Y/N. Unfortunately, Daveed had not a single clue how to interpret this sign.

It took him a total of nine days to RSVP for the ceremony, playing out the pros and cons of his attendance. The fact Y/N would likely be there was the only pro that was also a con, and vice versa. Maybe he'd find some closure or, at the very least, answers to the questions he'd had on his mind since the day she'd slammed the door shut on their love. More likely, he'd spend the whole night alone at the singles table, nursing some old whiskey and watching her dance the night away in another man's arms.

January, 2016

This time, the DJ seemed to be enamored with some niche European techno music and Lin, a sweating mess on the relatively small dance floor, had become his number one fan. Next to the dancing maniac were the so called Schuyler Sisters, Jasmine and Reneé were busy taking turns dancing with the long haired man whilst Phillipa was losing herself in laughter between videoing the lot of them. Scattered along the club were the rest of the cast and crew. In fact, most of the people Daveed held closest to him were there, all banding together to celebrate something they had in common: him.

For them, it was the celebration of his 34th birthday. For him, it was a pity party for his 2nd birthday in a row without Y/N by his side.

He'd made a vow to not be bitter that night and focus on being grateful for what and who he did have in his life. Thus far, he'd done a good job. For the first night out in months, Daveed hadn't spent the night sat at the bar alone. He'd danced with friends and done shots with strangers and flirted with beautiful women. But it was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. All of his friends were there with their significant others whilst he was there with his bottle of champagne.

Tilting the bottle back, Daveed welcomed the bubbled drink in and gulped several times before dropping it back onto one of the many tables they'd all occupied. Just as he made the decision to stop thinking about her, destiny or the universe or whatever higher being was out there decided it was time for his birthday present.

He could hear the group of girls long before he could see them. A ruckus of screeching and slurred words was approaching and, from the neon bracelets and the sashes draped across scantily clad chests, it was clear as day to him that a bridal party had just entered the building, and they were far from subtle.

His curious eyes found themselves scanning over each girl of the bridal party as they filtered their way over to the other side of the VIP lounge. They were a sea of nameless faces, hooting and cheering like a bunch of frat guys on a night out and, as easy as it would be to find them irritating, Daveed couldn't help but chuckle and enjoy the fact that other people were having a great night. Until his eyes drifted to the back of the group.

At first, it just felt like a coincidence. A dress, laced with familiarity and the color red, which he was sure he'd seen before. But, then again, there were tons of red dresses in the world. Then, the girl looked up from her phone and Daveed felt the wind get knocked out from beneath his feet. Clinging to the table in front of him for support, he watched her smile at her friend.

It was the kind of smile he used to pull from her, whilst they were both spread out on each end of the sofa and a terribly romantic movie playing in the background of their happiness. He'd cheesily recite lines from the movie to her and revel in the way he could still make her blush, even if she hid it with a cringe. And when he'd agree to stop, he'd always tell her he loved her. No cheesy lines, no big words or unrealistic speeches that took place in airports. Just a flat out, honest, sincere “I love you”. Y/N would just smile and he'd already know she loved him back, no words needed.

“Wow buddy, you alright there?” The distinguishable voice of Anthony Ramos cut through Daveed's reminiscing yet his eyes never left her. He was frozen in time, hyper focused on each gesture she made. Most of all, he was desperately trying to spot the ring on her finger. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Daveed bit back a comment about the ghost being from his past, of a life he could have had. Grabbing a half filled shot glass, he threw it’s contents down his throat, not even grimacing as the liquor stung his nerves. “I'm great. Just tired. S'been a long day, y'know?” His words were a little more unsteady and slurred than he would have preferred but Daveed was sure he'd sounded convincing enough.

“Shots! Shots! Shots!” Anthony chanted enthusiastically over the music, gaining a few glares and side-eye glances from surrounding tables. He truly was the human equivalent of a beagle: energetic, kinda short, great with kids. “Let's go do some! Shots always work great if you're feeling tired.”

“How 'bout you go order us some then, Ant?” Daveed said, at last tearing his eyes away from Y/N and her red dress. “I'm just... Gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”

Daveed would have felt bad for lying to Anthony, he really would have, but he just needed a breath of fresh air. And maybe a dose of poison in his lungs. Out of everyday in which he could have ended up in the same city, in the same club, in the same section as Y/N, of course it had to be the night he'd sworn off thinking about her. How cruel fate seemed to him, not allowing him a break from sorrow.

The January air had a chill to it when it embraced Daveed as he stepped out on to the small balcony, which was really just a metal enclosure that looked as if it was violating some kind of health and safety code. The club music was still audible but it was playing in sync with noise of the city. A siren was ringing in some distance. He placed his vice between his lips, ready to light it up when-

“What's the birthday boy doing out here all alone? Not throwing a pity party, I hope.”

Daveed jolted and watched as the cigarette, now having slipped out of his mouth, fell to the balcony floor and dropped through the metal caging. Biting back a curse, he finally noticed the black satin and a familiar head of blonde hair. She hadn't changed much since the last time he'd seen her. Yet again, it hadn't been long since she'd come to see Hamilton. “Raquel!” His enthusiasm was honest, as was the care he put into the hug he pulled her into.

“If only everyone was this excited to see me, the world would be a better place.” Raquel exclaimed, drawing back from his embrace and cautiously leaning against the handrail, tilting her head down as she looked over the edge. “Didn't mean to startle you, sorry.” A sheepish smile appeared. “But, hey, at least Y/N can no longer claim that I enable your smoking!”

Daveed realized then and there that it was no coincidence that Raquel had come up to him. Sure, it was his birthday, and sure, they were friends. But Daveed had been blatantly staring at his ex, her best friend, and clearly he'd been caught. If if weren't for the calming nature of her voice or the way she looked at him with equal amounts of kindness and pity, Daveed would have walked away from the conversation before it could even begin. But, it was too late now.

“Remember that trip we all took to Cancún? Where she threw the cigarettes you bought me in the bin?” For the first time, Daveed was sharing memories of her with someone else. For months, his reminiscing had been silent, not unnoticed but not shared either. It was almost like he'd been in mourning for so long and, now, he was finally ready to start celebrating the life he'd lost.

“How could I forget? She still owes me ten dollars.” Raquel laughed and he followed, even if he didn't find any humor in their conversation. His was an empty laugh. “Oh! Right! I actually needed to talk to you about something!”

“I'm all ears.”

“It's about the catering at the wedding. I know you're Jewish but I can't remember if you're kosher. Just in case you want us to mark anything non-kosher at the reception.”

“Ah,” Daveed nodded, silently appreciating that she'd even taking the time to ask him. “Don't worry, I'm not that strict about it. Honestly. Thanks for asking though.” By then he'd drawn and lit a cigarette, this time managing to not drop it. He let his eyes scan over her and he found himself unable to stop the small smile which took over his face at the sight of her bridal party wear. “The wedding isn't until August, isn't it a bit early to start up the bachelorette party?”

“This isn't my party, Diggs.” She rebutted, bumping his shoulder with her own as she stole a sip from her champagne flute. “It's a friend of mine's. That's actually why we're in New York.”

They didn't need to define who we was referring to, Daveed knew it was Y/N. If it were even possible, his heart stuttered over a beat. The question was at the tip of his tongue, longing for him to just get it over with. Rip the band-aid off, open up his wound and let it bleed out. Is it her wedding? Somehow, the answer seemed scarier than the question. “Seems everyone's getting married off then, huh?” Like a coward, he never asked.

“What about you, mister Broadway? Any lucky lady in your life?” Surely she knew the answer, considering he hadn't added a plus one on to his wedding reservation.

“No, uh, been too busy. Shows 'n stuff, y'know?” He said, not even convincing himself of his own excuses. And, from the pitiful look she was giving him and the hand she'd placed on his forearm, Raquel wasn't believing him either.

“Have you talked to her, at all? Since things ended between you guys...” She paused, as if searching for the right way to word things. “I just think you guys at least deserve some closure. Your relationship didn't even properly come to an end. One day, you guys were together, the next, well, you were over. Two years of building a life together can't just stop all of a sudden.” Daveed remained silent and Raquel took this as a sign to keep talking. “Sorry if you think it's not my place to say all this. I've been trying to tell her for months now to talk to you but she just won't listen. Not even when we came to your show.”

That had spiked his attention and his eyes widened. His show. The theater. Hamilton. She'd been there, somewhere in the mass of the audience. In anger, he wished he'd spotted her. In pain, he wished she'd have let him know. Now here was their friend, her friend, asking him to talk to her and get closure for them both. Even if it hurt him to think that Y/N was suffering, it hurt him more to think of them truly being over. And that's exactly what closure meant. The end of things. Daveed wasn't ready for her to become a part of his past yet. Besides, last time he'd seen her, Y/N seemed to be doing just fine, with or without closure.

Both of his hands were full from the tray of beverages in to-go cups he'd been sent to purchase for the cast, meaning Daveed had to shoulder his way out of the corner cafe, all the while cursing the fact he'd ever agreed to take part in the childish game of rock, paper, scissors. He'd drawn rock and wound up losing to the rest of the cast's papers. Laughter had echoed as he walked out the theater with a list of everyone's order.

A frustrated sigh escaped Daveed as he lowered the trays onto an outdoor table. Sitting unevenly on the pavement, the table wobbled. Those short three seconds had Daveed near crippled in panic as he watched the drinks shake, some almost toppling over completely. Luckily, they all stayed up right and he wasn't about to find himself buying a whole new order.

“C'mon, c'mon, hurry up.” He muttered under his breath, fingers drumming against the side of his legs, eyes staring down the street with a desperation to spot the familiar face of a fellow Hamilton cast member. He'd texted the group-chat just about ten minutes ago, someone should have been on their way to help him carry the order back.

The blaring of a horn had Daveed looking up from his phone screen. An elderly man was cursing out some taxi driver as he crossed the road, stick waving in the air as unfiltered words fell from his lips. Maybe, if Daveed hadn't stared at the scene before him for so long, he would have never noticed the jewelers directly across the street from him.

Maybe he would have never noticed a man and woman inside the store. Him, with his arm around her shoulder, and her, with her eyes fixated on the display of rings in front of her, and both with smiles brighter than any collapsing star. He watched, throat dry and limbs heavy, as the attendant in the store helped the woman slide on the ring. The engagement ring. She nodded, just one nod, and that's all it took for Daveed's world to implode. Of course, the couple were completely unaware of the heartbreak they were causing as they waited for the ring to be wrapped and bagged. The man had eagerly pulled out his credit card, as if he couldn't wait a second longer to purchase it, and the woman welcomed the bag into her waiting hands, like she was desperate to return the ring to it's rightful home: her left ring finger.

It was selfish, Daveed knew that, but he'd been hoping Y/N was just as torn up by their break up as he still was.

Instead, she was engaged. To another man, another future.

“There you are! God, this place was further than I expected.” Daveed turned his head to see one of the ensemble members, Ariana, approaching him. She smiled and he done his best to return the gesture. “Alright, what ones am I carrying?”

“Oh. Uh,” He blindly grabbed two of the sets of drinks, offering them to her. “these ones. I got the rest.”

“Okay! Let's go, pretty sure poor Leslie is gonna pass out from exhaustion if he doesn't get his dose of coffee soon.” Daveed hesitated following her and, instead, stared back over at the other side of the street. He found the store was now empty of customers and Y/N was no longer there. “Hello? Earth to Daveed!”

“Huh?”

“You okay there? You were just staring off into space for like, 2 minutes.”

“Yeah. Yes.” He swallowed the ball of emotion pent up in his throat and walked over to her, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him to look back. It just wanted to torture him some more. “Just,” He sighed. “thought I saw someone.”

“If she doesn't want to talk, then there's no reason for me to do it. Maybe it's just better for us both if we keep to ourselves.” The reality was that Daveed didn't think he'd be able to get through talking to her even if she did want to speak about it. Not when he'd spend the whole time staring at her hands, at the rock resting on her finger, at the pledge of love and fidelity she'd given to someone else. “So, how's wedding planning been treating you? You excited to just get it over with?”

“A hundred percent!” Raquel laughed and he relaxed, thankful for the fact she'd let him change the topic of conversation. “Don't get me wrong, some of the planning has been fun. Cake tasting? I highly recommend it. And I've got her learning salsa for our first dance. But, yeah, venue planning and the cost of it all has been a bit of a bummer. I'll be glad to never have to do that again.”

“Salsa? Great choice, bring a little flavor into the whole traditional wedding dancing.”

“Yeah! Fuck swaying side to side awkwardly, I'm putting on a performance! It's been a messy journey, planning everything. Even just something as simple as seating arrangements, who the hell knew it was such a process to organize all that crap?” She threw her hands up, the remainder of her champagne sloshing inside of the glass. “But it'll be worth it when I walk down the aisle with her. We're gonna put all other brides to shame in our dresses. Shit, sorry, all I talk about recently is the wedding! You can tell me to stop if you want.”

“It's fine, no worries. You're happy, it's nice.” He felt a tug at his heartstrings all of a sudden, very aware of the fact of how much had changed since the two had first met. It really did fill him with joy to see her so happy. “You deserve it, Kelly.”

“You know I hate being called that, David.” The two old friends laughed in unison after she lightly kicked him with her heeled foot, not even hard enough to leave a scuff on his jeans. “It's crazy, you know, that just about four years ago I was trying to get in your pants. And now I'm a few months away from getting married! To the love of my life! I mean, she's honestly the best thing that's ever happened to me, D, you have no idea.”

He had an idea and it was somewhere else inside the busy club, wrapped in red and the familiar scent of coconut- it had always been her favorite - but he wasn't sure he was allowed to speak about her like Raquel spoke about her fiancé. That was reserved for someone else now. He also held back on pointing out the pitiful fact that it seemed people who pursued him would wind up engaged afterwards.

At some point, they both went their separate ways, back to their respective groups. Daveed eventually threw caution to the wind, a fresh wound on his soul after having seen Y/N urging him on. Every drink he was handed ended up down his throat and, somehow, Lin managed to rope him into dancing to the shitty music with him. They all danced, cramped together in the limited space like canned tuna. When the last song was played, when the last drink had been poured, when the last cab had been hailed, a very intoxicated Daveed found himself stumbling into the apartment of a stranger wrapped in red. The fact she smelt like sweat and lavender was the only downside.

If he hadn't drank so much or gotten so reckless and careless, perhaps his phone wouldn't have been left abandoned among glitter and emptied glasses in the deserted club, it's screen lit up with two notifications:

00:49 am (+81) 03-3***-****: happy birthday, d. i'm glad to see you're having a fun night!

02:18 am (+81) 03-3***-****: you're wearing my favorite shirt of yours.

August, 2016

The sun setting over the horizon burned at Daveed's tired eyes as he stepped off the plane, thankful to be home yet dreading the next day. The whole flight over he'd practically gone through the works of all possible emotions he could feel towards his impending future. Excited, saddened, nervous, happy, frustrated, nervous again. Every possible scenario had played through his mind, ones where the two did not speak, others were they done nothing but speak and one, shamefully, where they done something but it was not speaking.

The wedding was one sleep away and he was no more prepared to be in such close proximity of Y/N than he had been the night of the club or the day on the sidewalk.

His dad had picked him up from the airport, lending him a hand with his limited luggage and pulling his cherished son into a warm hug. The whole drive back to his father's home had been filled with playing catch up, Daveed sharing stories of his cast mates and his father telling him about his new hobby of coaching a local junior basketball team. Daveed was grateful for his dad not asking about Y/N. If it had been his mother, all intentions pure and caring, she would have began to question him on the matter the second he was strapped in to his seat and unable to escape.

His parents had always liked Y/N, that was for sure. And, while it had been a blessing during their relationship to see his mother dote over her like she were her own daughter or to witness her beat his dad at guitar hero, it had become a curse when things had ended. The way things ended did not make matters any better. His own mother had given Daveed the silent treatment for a whole two days after he explained to her how things had gone down.

He fell asleep that night, his bag opened yet not unpacked, in the guest bedroom of his father's home. A belly full of pizza and beer, mind full of worry and doubt.

Hours later, after a shower, a shave and a shit ton of stressing as he pulled on his suit, Daveed found himself parked outside the venue. Finding a parking space had been stressful enough but it was nothing compared to the on-going battle between him and his crooked tie. It had only hit him that morning just how long it had been since he'd had to tie his own tie, too accustomed to his new normal of having a stylist dress him for most formal occasions. Before that, he'd had Y/N.

A few months into their relationship, when he finally felt confident enough to meet her parents, she'd went out of her way to learn exactly how to tie a tie and she'd wordlessly done it for him that evening, his hands too shaky and his nerves too on edge. From there onward, he'd purposefully mess up only to have her stand so close, where he could comfortably lay his hand to rest on her lower back as she worked away at sorting the piece of cloth around his neck.

“That's as good as it's gonna get.” The quiet of his car was filled with his disappointed voice as the less crooked tie stared back at him through the rear view mirror. Despite his words, he gave it one last tug and stepped out of the car.

He hadn't expected to be recognized by so many familiar faces. He probably should have expected some though, these were people who'd been friends to him once upon a time ago. To add tension to an already tense situation, everyone that felt the need to come up to him was dancing around the fact things had ended between him and Y/N and that was why they'd stopped talking to him.

“It's been so long since I've seen you! I've just been swamped with work, you know? And, New York! You were on Broadway. How's Broadway? Must be exciting to be on Broadway!” They'd all have the same excuses to avoid the obvious: they were Y/N's friends first and they'd be hers till the end.

Daveed wished he believed it when he told himself he didn't mind that.

The venue of the ceremony was breathtakingly beautiful and, now sat among (luckily) unfamiliar faces, Daveed took the chance to fully appreciate the scenery.

It was being held within a greenhouse, and in almost every inch of the place there was a strike of greenery. The surrounding walls were made up solely of glass windows, serving as a source of natural light. At the end of the aisle, where the exchanging of vows, crying of happy tears and giving of rings would be taking place, was a beautiful water display, with water so fresh looking it appeared drinkable. And the air? It was smothered in the scent of life: blossoming buds and flourishing flowers and ripening fruits. Splashes of red and yellow, of blue and lilac, of pink and orange effortlessly added more class and detail into the green venue.

If the venue was breathtaking, the ceremony was heartbreakingly tender.

The two teary eyed brides had walked down the aisle with the person they'd chosen to give them away and, by the time they were both facing each other at the makeshift altar, Daveed could already see a stray tear falling down Raquel's cheek. At that, he smiled. And stayed smiling throughout the whole ceremony. Until it came to Raquel's vows. At some point in her big proclamation of love, she began speaking about how her and her bride had first met, about how she hadn't even realized she was being hit on by her and how, when she was asked for her number, Raquel thought she'd just wanted to be friends. She spoke of how two dear friends of her's told her she was being asked out on a date, not just to hang out as friends.

For the first time during the ceremony, Daveed finally looked directly at where Y/N stood in front of the other bridesmaids. He watched as a stray tear slid down her cheek, one she quickly tried to brush away, and her hands tightened around the bouquet they were wrapped around. His own eyes were welling up with tears in just a few seconds. While they weren't the only two in the room carrying tears in their eyes, they were the only two who's tears were made up of missed chances and broken promises and pure, untamed sadness. After all, they’d been there to witness the first meeting of the brides. They’d been together then and now, they were further apart than the stars above.

He'd told himself he'd just steal one last glance at her, remember her as she was next to the altar, all dressed up and looking beautiful albeit sad. His eyes lifted. And there was Y/N staring right back at him, a couple more tears already having fallen from her eyes. The eye contact never wavered between them both and, for the first time in a while, Daveed felt like he was actually being seen for who he really was. And when she smiled, he fell apart.

A tear finally escaped it's cage but Daveed made no attempt to wipe it away.

One luxurious meal later, and quite a few drinks from the open bar, Daveed sat in the very same situation he'd predicted. At the singles table- which was pretty depressing given who his company for the evening was -, with some girl he'd met about an hour ago talking his ears off about her job which he hadn't even asked about, a drink he’d been nursing for half an hour in his hand and his eyes hyper-focused on the dance floor. Taking another sip, he drowned out the stranger’s voice and watched how Y/N laughed at something her dance partner had whispered in her ear.

This was how Daveed had chosen to enjoy the reception: playing a game of “Guess Who’s Marrying The Love Of Your Life?” with every man who so much as approached her. He was thankful her duties as maid of honor kept her so busy, she’d yet to have the chance to notice his incessant watching.

Deciding he’d spotted the fiancé of his kryptonite- the man she’d been dancing with for just over twenty minutes, who she’d been sat next to during the meal, who seemed to make her laugh just as hard as Daveed once had - he pushed back his chair, straightened out the jacket of his suit and headed for his destination.

Heavy footsteps, fists clenched, breathing erratic, Daveed stepped out into the fresh air and made his way over to the concrete railing of the balcony, a balcony far more sturdy and well designed than the one he’d stumbled onto back in January.

The silence and lonesomeness wrapped themselves around Daveed like the softest, warmest blanket on a winter's eve. For the first time since he'd arrived at the wedding celebrations, he'd found a window of peace for himself to take a moment and breathe. Recalling the conversation he'd shared with Rafa before he left for the airport- in which Rafa had been hyping him up and reassuring him he'd enjoy more than regret attending -, Daveed had to admit to himself that he was proud of how he'd done so far. Maybe not in the past hour of self pity with a side of substance abuse, but other than that he'd held himself together pretty well. He'd congratulated Raquel and her official wife, even sharing a dance with both of the women; he'd rekindled friendships, once he and they managed to push past the original discomfort of not having spoken in so long; he'd met some interesting strangers with fascinating stories; he'd ate some of the most lucrative meals he'd ever tasted and bore witness to a demonstration of pure love.

He was enjoying himself.

The only thing that made the evening unpleasant was when he'd finally zeroed in on Y/N and her smile; and the way the lights were making her eyes sparkle; and the way her dress was draped over her skin effortlessly.

The alcohol was beginning to take an effect on him, his mind becoming a little resentful towards Y/N. He'd never once hated her, even if it had been she who'd called quits on them, but he couldn't help blame her now for his situation. How was it fair that she got to move on with her life while he still could barely sit in the same room as her and keep his eyes from watching her every move, her every gesture?

“Shit.” Daveed huffed out over the sound of crickets and the muffled sound of the celebratory music, just as his lighter gave up on him and decided it would not be lighting up the cigarette for him this evening.

“We need to stop meeting this way.” He hated the way the resentment left him with as little as seven words. “People are going to start calling us predictable.”

Sure enough, when Daveed spun on his heel to face the balcony doors, there she was in all her glory, arm stretched out and lighter in hand. He wondered if she carried it around for her new man. Out here, her eyes were a lot less sparkling, her dress a lot less light, her smile a lot less wide but Daveed didn't find her any less ethereal. He never did.

“Uh,” She'd cleared her throat and Daveed felt embarrassment creep in. Here she was, perfectly composed and unaffected by him, whilst he was just as nervous as the day they had their first date; the day he'd first told her he loved her; the day he asked her to move to New York. “thank you.” He plucked the lighter from her and hit the clipper.

“No problem.” She took a sip of the glass in her hand and approached him more, till they were stood in parallel, shoulders an inch away from brushing, staring off into the dark abyss of the night that lay past the grounds of the vibrant wedding. “I see you got stuck sitting next to cousin Delia. On a score of one to ten, how bad is your headache?” Why was it so easy for her to joke around with him?

“Probably a solid seven. She talks a lot but at least there's never time for awkward silence with her.” He pulled in a drag and held back a groan when not even the nicotine could untense his muscles. “The ceremony was beautiful, you must be so happy for Raquel.”

“Yeah.” She sighed dreamily, head turning back to look at the balcony door, as if she were remembering just how beautiful indoors was. “I'm so glad everything went smoothly, they were both so stressed during the planning but it turned out exactly how they wanted.”

“They're lucky to have each other.” Why couldn't he see her engagement ring? Was she hiding it from him, out of pity? Did she know he was hung up on her? Daveed had spent so many months missing her only to resent the time he was spending with her. Stood on that balcony, hardly any space between them, Y/N had never felt further away. “So, how've you been? Like, work and shit.”

“I've been... good. Yeah, good.” There was a pause and they stood in silence, her staring off into space, him staring at her face. “I took the job, in the end, so there's that. Moved to Japan, got to have some new experiences and make new friends. Tried Sashimi, realized I do not like Sashimi. Oh! I got to watch cherry blossoms bloom. Just, yeah, I've been good.” She didn't tell him what he'd wanted to hear about. “How about you?”

“I've been great. Honestly. Work has been on the up and up since the show opened on Broadway, I’ve got some acting jobs lined up. Done some photo-shoots, made more music. Every night, there was another celebrity in the crowd. I mean, the President invited us to perform in the white house. I've been great in other parts of my life too, made some incredibly interesting friends.” Is everything Daveed wishes he said.

Instead, he said this: “Awful. I've been doing shit, for a while now.”

“D.” He couldn't help but hate the fact she called him by that. “I don't think we should get into this at Raquel's weddi-”

“Then when, Y/N?” Oh, he had not meant to sound so confrontational. Unfortunately, the little voice in his head that made up his ego was enticing him to keep going. “Ten years from now? Fifty? Oh, or should we do it at your wedding? I can't put this off any longer, alright? I'm miserable and,” He tried to compose himself, eyes squeezed shut and hands shoved in pockets. “and it's your fault. So no, we're having this conversation. You don't get to just meet someone new and act like what happened between us meant nothing, whilst I'm left frozen in a time where a reality TV star isn't our President and you're mine. Ok? I need to move on but I can't if we don't get closure.”

“It's my fault? Meet someone new!?” She was using the same tone of voice she'd used that night, when the fight to end it all first broke out. “Daveed, you ended things between us, not me. Or did you forget?”

“Weird, I don't remember breaking up with a guy named Daveed and slamming the door shut on my way out.” He stepped back, dropping the wasted cigarette into an ashtray. “But I remember you doing something along those lines.”

“Well, do you remember the part where your girlfriend told you she'd just been offered her dream job and all you had to say was that you two needed to break up?”

“The job was in Tokyo!”

“Oh! So, it was okay when I made the sacrifice of moving to New York with you but you couldn't just deal with some long-distance dating?”

“What did you want me to say, Y/N?” Up until then, their voices had been rising in volume but this time Daveed was softly spoken. “I was happy for you. But I also realized how much things wouldn't work between us. Between Broadway and you being all the way in Japan and the time difference, when would there be time for us?”

“If you really want something, there's always a way.” Y/N said, resting her back against the balcony ledge. “Maybe you just didn't want us, enough.”

“You didn't have to leave though.” He followed suit, back against ledge and feet crossed. “Yeah, I messed up and said something I didn't mean out of fear of losing you, but you didn't have to take my advice and actually walk out the door.”

“How was I supposed to stay after that? It stung, D. I thought you had more faith in us. But you weren't wrong, I guess hearing you say we'd have to break up made me realize just how much the job change would really effect us both. I think we both played our part in ending things- Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” One second, Daveed had been quietly reflecting on her every word. The next, spilled champagne was seeping through his white shirt.

“It's, uh, fine. No worries. I'll just go try get this off me.”

“Let me help!”

As a man, Daveed was shocked to see just how perfectly clean and nice smelling the female restroom was. Everything seemed to sparkle in the light. He had traded leaning his back against the balcony banister for leaning it against the counter top of the sinks, his own hands wiping at his shirt with paper towels Y/N was handing him. She'd quickly and carefully dragged him into the toilets and stripped him of his suit jacket, all the while apologizing again and again for having soaked him.

Surprisingly, he didn't care.

“You can be honest with me, you know.” He glanced at her before refocusing on his shirt. They'd been talking lightly, of things that held no real value but were preferred over the discussion on the balcony. “You can tell me if you found someone new.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Nothing, really. I just, I saw you. A few months ago. You were getting fitted for an engagement ring with some man at your side.”

“Do you mean my cousin? Who was planning a proposal for his girlfriend?” He could see the amusement on her lips as she handed him another paper towel. He felt his heart rate pick up. “My turn. Why didn't you answer my text? If you were doing so bad, wouldn't you want to talk it out as soon as possible?”

“Text? What text?”

“The one I sent you on your birthday? We were in the same club but, I don't think you saw me.”

“Oh, I saw you. I think you were all I saw that night.” He instantly regretted what he said. “I mean, I lost my phone that night. Haven't seen it since.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Silence kept them apart for the rest of the time. Eventually, Daveed decided his shirt was as dry as it was going to get. Then, he felt it. Y/N, without missing a beat, reached up and adjusted his tie. Both their breaths caught in their throats. The silence between them became tension. In a matter of seconds, everything was turned around, literally. She was hoisted up on the counter and he was stood between her spread legs, his hands on her hips and hers going back and forth between running through his hair and gripping on to his damp shirt. They were doing their best to keep quiet, swapping moaning out for heavy breathing.

Daveed was struggling to think straight, between the familiarity of her skin and the scent of coconut, it was as if they'd spent no time apart. Suddenly, anyone else he'd slept with between their break up and now hadn't really counted and this was the first time he was being touched in years.

When it was over, he was speechless and she was incapable of not speaking.

“Okay, so, um, I'll sneak out first and then you just, wait in here for five minutes. Then slip out. That way, no one has to see us both exit the bathroom together. Okay, great catching up, see you when I see you. Bye!”

By the time he came back to his senses, he was stood alone in the female bathroom, the top button of his shirt undone and his tie discarded on the floor. He shoved it into his back pocket and slipped on the jacket of his suit, not bothering to even discreetly leave the toilets. Luckily, no one noticed him.

Returning to the event hall, he instantly began his search for Y/N but he failed to spot any sign of her. Had she vanished into thin air? Had she even been there?

“If you're looking for Y/N, she just bolted out of here like the floor was on fire. Pretty sure she called a cab but you didn't hear that from me.” He turned to find Raquel staring at him, a smile on her face. “Stop wasting time on staring at me and go get her, lover boy.”

Daveed did not need to be told twice, his history with running track kicking in as he raced out of the hall. He sped down the corridor, dodging any oncoming guests before he burst out of the doors, stepping out into the fresh air. He could see her in the distance, standing with her arms around herself as she shifted from side to side.

“Y/N!” Daveed yelled out as he ran over to her. When she made no attempt to move away from him, he felt hope begin to rise in his soul. “Why'd you leave?”

“Daveed, we don't have to do this. In fact, we shouldn't do this.”

“Have coffee with me.”

“D, I don't-”

“One coffee, that's it. You can even get it in a to-go cup. Y/N, it's just coffee, I'm not asking for your hand in marriage.” He loved the way she was struggling to hold back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

August, 2020

The world from his garden felt calm, peaceful, as if everything wasn't falling to shit in the midst of all kinds of disasters.

It was the middle of the night and, no matter how hard he tried, Daveed couldn't sleep. Even after having more or less quit a few years back, he could tell there was only one thing that was going to calm his nerves. So, creeping out of bed cautiously, he'd reached into his bedside drawer and grabbed the little packet he kept hidden beneath his socks. Maybe it was just the recent times taking a toll on him, quarantine beginning to exhaust him, but Daveed had been feeling more stressed out than ever.

He sighed, one hand rubbing at the sleep in his eye and the other trying to light up his cigarette. Then, he noticed the blue plastic and a whispered “Fuck.” escaped from him. If he'd considered heading back indoors to find his functioning lighter instead of the empty one, it didn't matter because the cigarette and it's packet were plucked away from him by smaller hands.

“You shouldn't be smoking, D.”

“I know, I know, it's bad for my health. Just, a little stressed.” He welcomed the way she wrapped her arms around his waist, molding herself into his side as he wrapped his own arm around her shoulder. “Better now that you're here.”

“Hmm.” She hummed sleepily, squeezing her arms around him some more. “You're so warm. Like, a human hot-water bottle.”

“Just say I'm hot, I already know you're thinking it.” His lips rested on her forehead and the scent of coconut consumed him.

“Why did I agree to marry a man with an ego the size of the Statue Of Liberty?”

“Because that man's love for you is the size of Mount Everest.” He soothingly rubbed her back, feeling himself finally wanting to fall asleep. “Plus, he has really good hair.”

When he fell asleep that night, it was in the same way he'd fallen asleep for the past few years, and how he wanted to fall asleep every night that remained in his time alive: with her between his arms. He'd gone from being as useless, soulless as an empty lighter without her by his side to now, where he never had to worry about not being able to spark up again. He had Y/N and he wouldn't let anything change that. Not distance, time, health, anything.

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