this isn’t a smut req but could u do dani x reader (high school au) where dani and reader are best friends and dani helps her practice how to kiss for the first time :3 if u don’t feel comfortable writing hs au that’s totally fine u can just skip this req! :)
daniela avanzini x f!reader
tags: highschool au / kissing/making out / light angst
a/n: this is definitely longer than it needs to be 😭 i got a bit carried away. also this is not proofread
you've been at daniela's house for two hours and you just can't sit still.
not obvious fidgeting—nothing she'd call you out on—just your knee bouncing in this rhythm you can't quite control, your fingers picking at a loose thread on her comforter, your phone screen lighting up every few minutes even though there's nothing to check.
daniela's on her back next to you, scrolling through her phone with the volume low enough that you can hear her breathing between videos. the blue light from her screen catches on her cheekbones and does something to your chest that you refuse to name.
you look away before she notices.
you've been doing that a lot tonight. looking away. like if you don't look directly at her, you won't have to acknowledge whatever this feeling is that's been sitting heavy in your stomach since you walked through her door.
it’s fine. it’s always like this. friday nights her room, nothing complicated.
except tonight it feels different.
tonight you keep noticing things you have no business noticing.
like how she's wearing this old t-shirt that's two sizes too big, the collar stretched out and sliding off one shoulder every time she shifts.
like how her hair is down instead of up, falling across the pillow in waves that catch the lamplight, and you have this horrible urge to reach out and see if it's as soft as it looks.
like how the silver cross necklace around her neck keeps catching your attention, disappearing beneath her shirt in a way that makes you wonder what it would feel like against your skin.
you should be thinking this.
you’ve got a date tomorrow with a perfectly nice, perfectly normal boy from your calculus class, the one who sits two rows behind you and asked you to the movies with a nervous smile that was, annoyingly, kind of sweet.
you said yes because that's what you're supposed to do when boys ask you out. that's what normal girls do.
they say yes and they go on dates and they don't spend friday nights at their best friend's house having thoughts they shouldn't be having about the way her shirt slides off her shoulder.
your head snaps up. daniela is still staring at her phone but there's this slight quirk to her mouth that means she's been watching you longer than you realized.
she scrolls past another video without watching it.
“you've checked your phone like fifteen times in the last half hour and you keep doing that thing with your leg."
your knee stops bouncing immediately.
"that thing." she doesn't look away from her screen but she mimics the motion anyway, her own leg bouncing in exaggerated movements.
“you only do it when you're overthinking something."
heat creeps up your neck, spreads across your cheeks. "i'm not overthinking."
she says it light, teasing. but she’s watching you now, phone tilted down slightly, and there’s something in her expression you can’t quite read.
focus on the thread you’ve been picking at. it’s coming loose, unraveling around the hem of her comforter
“i have that date tomorrow,” you say.
it comes out too casual, like you rehearsed it, which you did on the walk over.. but it was supposed to sound more natural than this.
daniela doesn't say anything right away.
"you mentioned it." her voice is flat, doesn't match her usual tone. "like three times this week."
"i didn't mention it three times."
"tuesday at lunch. wednesday after class. thursday when i asked if you wanted to come over tonight."
she's still looking at you and you can feel the weight of her gaze even though you're staring very hard at her comforter.
"i was just making sure you knew i couldn't hang out tomorrow night. that's all."
“got it.” she goes back to her phone. scrolls past two videos without watching them. “so. a date.”
"jace”. his name is jace."
"right. jace." she says his name like it tastes bad. "cool."
it doesn't sound cool. it sounds clipped and tight and wrong coming from her mouth, like she's forcing the word out through clenched teeth.
you risk another glance at her. she's frowning at her phone, not at anything in particular.
"i'm not making a face. this is just my face."
she sighs, the sound heavy enough that you feel it in your own chest.
she locks her phone with more force than necessary and drops it on her stomach.
“i'm not making a face about your date, if that's what you're asking."
“sure." she shifts, propping herself up on one elbow, and the movement makes her shirt slide further off her shoulder and you very deliberately look at the wall behind her head instead.
“no. like, first date ever?"
it's barely a pause, just a fraction of a second, but she catches it. of course she catches it.
"wait." she sits up fully now, crossing her legs and turning to face you.
"have you been on a date before?"
"i've—there was that thing with that guy from sophomore year."
"that wasn't a date. that was literally just a group hangout where he followed you around like a lost puppy."
you pick at the thread harder. it comes loose entirely, a tiny piece of blue fabric separating from the rest. you roll it between your fingers.
“okay. fine. yeah. first real date.”
daniela's quiet for a second, then she grins
"you're totally nervous. that's what all the phone checking is about. and the—" she gestures at your hands, at the destroyed thread.
"i'm not nervous about the date."
"then what are you nervous about?"
the question hangs in the air between you. you could deflect, change the subject, make a joke. you’re good at that. you’ve been doing it all night.
instead you hear yourself say: “what if he tries to kiss me?”
“no, wait. what did you—” she shifts closer, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward.
“you think he's gonna try to kiss you?"
"i don't know. maybe? isn't that what people do on first dates?"
"i mean. sometimes. if it goes well." she tilts her head, studying you in that way that makes you feel like she can see straight through your skin to all the thoughts you're trying to keep buried.
“would that be a bad thing?"
you open your mouth, then close it. your brain is moving too fast and too slow at the same time. “i just—i don’t know if i—”
“no, i—maybe? i don’t know.” you press your palms against your eyes. take a breath.
you drop your hands and daniela's staring at you with this expression you've never seen before. wide eyes. slightly parted lips.
"wait." her voice comes out different, quieter. careful.
“you've never kissed anyone?"
heat floods your face so fast you're surprised you don't spontaneously combust right there on her bed.
"you're looking at me like it is."
"i'm just—i'm surprised. i thought you and—"
"or that guy from debate who was always—"
"oh." she's still staring and you wish she would stop, wish she would go back to her phone or make a joke or literally anything except look at you like she's trying to solve an equation that doesn't quite add up.
“okay. so. you're worried about tomorrow."
“you’re clearly worried.”
you make a frustrated noise in the back of your throat, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.
"there's no wrong way to kiss someone."
"there definitely is. what if i freeze up? or what if he can tell i've never done it before and thinks i'm weird or inexperienced or—"
"you're overthinking this."
"you are. it's just a kiss." she says, like it's that simple.
but you’re not going to be fine, because your brain’s already spiraling, running through every version of how this could go wrong.
you can see it too clearly. the awkward lean-in, getting the angle wrong, your teeth knocking together, and then him pulling back with that look like he’s already regretting asking you out.
your head snaps up. daniela’s watching you with this expression that’s carefully casual. too casual.
“how to kiss. so you’re not going in blind tomorrow.”
your brain short-circuits.
"that's—that would be weird," you manage to get out.
"why?" she leans forward slightly and you can smell her perfume now, vanilla and something else you can't identify but that makes your head go fuzzy.
“we're best friends. it doesn't mean anything."
it makes sense. logically. it’s practical. smart, even. better to figure it out now in a safe environment than tomorrow when it actually matters.
except your heart is doing something catastrophic in your chest, and the way she’s looking at you doesn’t feel practical in the slightest.
“i’m serious. you’re spiraling. and you’re gonna keep spiraling until tomorrow and then you’re gonna be in your head the entire date. this way you’ll know what to expect”
you should say no. obviously you should say no.
this is a terrible idea, possibly the worst idea she’s ever had, and there's no universe where this doesn't make everything exponentially more complicated than it already is.
but there's this part of you—this pathetic part that's been growing louder all night—that wants to know what it would be like.
what she would be like. the weight of her lips against yours, the taste of her, the way her hands would feel on your skin.
not jace. not some hypothetical future boyfriend.
which is exactly why you should say no.
“okay,” you hear yourself say instead.
daniela’s eyebrows shoot up. “yeah?”
“yeah. i mean—if you don’t think it’s weird.”
“i literally just offered.”
“right. okay. so.. how do we—”
daniela shifts back against her headboard, settling against the pillows. then she pats her lap.
it actually stops beating for a full second before starting up again in double time.
“i said come here.” she pats her lap.
she still won't look at you, too focused on adjusting one of her pillows like this is completely normal
"i'll play the guy. you know. for the scenario."
this is the moment. the moment where you could laugh it off, could make a joke about how ridiculous that is, could tell her you'll just figure it out tomorrow and hope for the best.
instead you move. slowly.
your body feels like it belongs to someone else, every movement too hyperconscious and deliberate. you kneel on the bed, knees sinking into her mattress, and hesitate.
"just—" she reaches out and her hands land on your waist, warm even through your shirt, fingers spreading across your hip bones as she guides you forward.
you let her position you, let yourself be maneuvered until you're straddling her lap, knees on either side of her hips.
you’re too close. close enough to see the exact shade of her eyes. close enough to count the freckles across her nose.
"okay." her voice is quieter now, slightly rough around the edges.
“so. the basic mechanics are pretty simple. you just tilt your head slightly—not too much, just a little—and then you lean in and—"
she keeps explaining, though you’re not really listening, too busy trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person. your hands hover uselessly at your sides, unsure where they’re supposed to go.
“hey." she squeezes your waist slightly and the touch sends electricity up your spine. "you're thinking about it too
“you are. i can literally see you spiraling.” her thumbs brush against your hip bones. just barely. through your shirt.
“i can’t relax. this is—this is a lot.”
“okay.” you take a breath. “okay. how do i—what do i do with my hands?”
she laughs softly. "just put them on my shoulders. or around my neck. whatever's comfortable."
you settle for shoulders because it feels safer, less intimate, even though the second your palms make contact with her skin—something shifts in the air between you. she's warm under your hands, warmer than you expected, and you can feel her breath catch slightly when you touch her.
“good.” her voice sounds different. lower.
“that’s good. now just—lean in. slow. and tilt your head to the right.”
“your right or my right?”
you lean in but then suddenly stop
“what if i’m doing it wrong?”
"you're not." firmer this time, her hands tightening on your waist. "stop overthinking. just trust me."
you nod and lean in again, slower this time. your heart is hammering so loud you’re convinced she can hear it.
the distance between you gets smaller and smaller until you can feel her breath on your lips.
her lips are softer than you imagined. warmer. they move against yours tentatively, testing, you try to follow but you don't really know what you're doing and it shows.
it's clumsy and awkward and you're probably doing everything wrong but then her hands shift, sliding from your waist to your hips, and her fingers slip just slightly under the hem of your shirt.
a small, involuntary, sound escapes you. you pull back immediately.
“sorry. i—sorry.” you’re staring very hard at her collarbone. anywhere but her face.
“don’t try to look away.”
you force yourself to meet her eyes. her pupils are blown wide
"you're doing fine." her hands are still on your hips, still under your shirt, thumbs drawing small circles against your skin that make it very hard to think straight. "just try again."
you remember to tilt your head.
when your lips meet hers, it’s different.
her mouth moves against yours and you try to follow, try to match the rhythm. it’s still not smooth but it’s not as awkward. not as frozen.
her hands squeeze your hips and guide you slightly closer, eliminating the last bit of space between you.
your own hands slide from her shoulders to the back of her neck without conscious thought, fingers threading through her hair. and when you give an experimental tug she makes this noise low in her throat that vibrates against your lips.
the kiss lasts longer this time. you lose track of seconds, of minutes, of anything except the feeling of her mouth on yours and her hands on your skin and the way your whole body has lit up like a live wire.
when you finally pull back, you’re both breathing harder.
she's looking at your mouth and not bothering to hide it.
“yeah, that was—you did good."
something warm blooms in your chest at the words, at the praise you definitely shouldn't be this affected by.
"yeah. you're doing good, baby." the word came out so naturally you almost didn’t catch it.
daniela doesn’t correct it, doesn’t laugh it off or make a joke.
just keeps looking at you with those eyes that are doing something to your ability to form coherent thoughts.
"can we—" you stop. swallow hard. your throat feels too tight. "can we do it again?"
her eyebrows raise slightly. “you want to?”
"just to make sure i—to make sure i have it down. the technique." even you don't believe the words coming out of your mouth.
you can see it written all over her face, can see the way her mouth curves into something that's not quite a smile.
“yeah,” she says. “okay.”
this time she doesn’t wait for you to initiate, she leans up and kisses you
there’s less hesitation. less thinking. she pulls you closer and you let her. let her hands guide you. let her tilt your head just slightly.
your hands tighten in her hair reflexively and she groans—actually groans—the sound goes straight to your core.
her tongue brushes against your bottom lip. you open your mouth without thinking about it.
her hands slide further up your back, nails dragging lightly against your spine in a way that makes you arch into her, and then one hand is moving back down, settling on your hip with a grip that's just the right side of too tight.
you make that sound again, louder this time. she swallows it.
then she's shifting, using the leverage of her position to maneuver you until your back hits her mattress and she's hovering over you, one hand braced by your head and the other still under your shirt, palm pressed against your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your bra.
she pulls back just enough to look at you, her curls falling around both of you like a curtain, blocking out the rest of the room and creating this bubble where nothing exists except her face above yours and the weight of her body against yours.
you nod, not even being able to form words.
she kisses you again. like she's trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you respond to her touch.
your hands slide under her shirt without conscious decision, palms finding the warm skin of her back, and her muscles shift under your touch when you drag your nails lightly down her spine the way she did to you.
she kisses down your jaw, finds the spot where your pulse is hammering beneath your skin and focuses there, teeth grazing in a way that makes you gasp and arch up into her.
“yeah?” she doesn't stop, just keeps working that spot like she's trying to leave evidence, like she wants you to feel this tomorrow.
the reason you're here doing this in the first place.
she must feel you tense because she pulls back slightly, looking down at you, lips swollen and parted, breathing hard enough that you can feel it against your throat.
“i—” you can’t think, can’t form a single clear thought when she’s looking at you like that. “this is—”
you just stare up at her, at this girl who’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more, and feel everything you’ve been trying not to feel crash over you all at once.
a beat passes. then another.
something shifts in her expression, subtle at first, like she’s only just catching up to herself. her breath stutters, barely noticeable, and her eyes drift away for a second before returning less steady than before.
she eases back carefully, not sudden, giving both of you space to come back to yourselves. her hands leave your space first, then the rest of her follows, sliding off you and settling onto the mattress beside you.
“well,” she says, voice lighter now
“i think you’re definitely ready for tomorrow.”
"yeah," you manage. your voice sounds foreign to your own ears.
"yeah. that was—that was helpful. thanks."
"anytime." she's already reaching for her phone, like nothing happened even though her hands are shaking.
you notice. you notice everything about her now.
"he's gonna be so impressed with your technique."
the joke lands wrong, makes something twist painfully in your chest.
lyou just lie there for a bit, staring at her ceiling, trying to catch your breath and failing spectacularly.
"you should probably head out soon," daniela says after a minute. still not looking at you.
“it's getting late. and you need your rest for your big date tomorrow."
you gather your things slowly, hoping she'll say something.
but she just scrolls through her phone while you collect your bag and jacket, the quiet stretching out.
you end up at her bedroom door without really noticing.
you hesitate there, fingers tightening around your bag strap, the question getting stuck halfway out. “was that… did i do okay?”
“yeah, baby,” she says, like it’s nothing,
a/n: this was different from my usual fics but i hope u guys liked it. i definitely need to improve the writing on my non smut fics like this.
