occasionally subtle
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.
Origami Around
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Kiana Khansmith
Jules of Nature
Xuebing Du
Monterey Bay Aquarium
if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Three Goblin Art
AnasAbdin
#extradirty
DEAR READER
cherry valley forever
sheepfilms
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Ukraine
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@notonlyst
Notonlyst
Writer
She/her
Hispanic
Musicaholic
Wlw
Wattpad books I’ve wrote:
Love in the spotlight- Manon
My Cheerleader- Daniela
Rebel- Manon
Inked-Manon
The Sister Effect- Daniela
Promises We Broke- Megan
Into: Katseye, Jhene Aiko, Yonna Jay, New Jeans, and Huh Yunjin
“ La Vida es bonita pero hay que saberla vivír”- IV
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Just Pretend
Info: danielaxmascreader
Summary: You and Daniela get into a fake relationship but things start to take a turn for the worst or good.
Just Pretend
The fake dating agreement was supposed to be simple.
That was the whole point.
Simple.
Easy.
Temporary.
Y/N had even written the rules down in her notes app like some kind of contract.
No real feelings.
No unnecessary flirting.
No jealousy.
No blurred lines.
No kissing unless absolutely necessary for appearances.
Daniela had laughed for ten straight minutes after reading it.
Then she’d signed it anyway.
Three months later, Y/N was realizing she was an idiot.
Because every single rule had already been broken.
And the worst part?
Daniela didn’t even seem aware she was doing it.
It started because Y/N needed a fake girlfriend.
Technically she didn’t need one.
But after spending six months listening to her family ask about her dating life at every gathering, she’d finally snapped.
Every holiday.
Every dinner.
Every family function.
“So are you seeing anyone?”
“Still single?”
“You should bring somebody next time.”
She’d gotten tired of it.
Very tired.
Then one day she’d made the mistake of complaining about it in front of Daniela.
And Daniela, being Daniela, immediately had an idea.
A terrible one.
“Why don’t I just pretend to be your girlfriend?”
Y/N had nearly dropped her drink.
“What?”
Daniela shrugged.
“Problem solved.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s insane.”
“It isn’t.”
“It definitely is.”
Daniela smiled.
That smile should’ve come with a warning label.
“It’ll be fun.”
Fun.
Those words would later haunt Y/N.
The first fake date happened at a family barbecue.
And immediately everything went wrong.
Because Daniela looked beautiful.
Painfully beautiful.
She arrived wearing a sundress that moved with the summer breeze and a smile that nearly made Y/N forget her own name.
The worst part?
Daniela acted completely natural.
Like she’d been Y/N’s girlfriend forever.
She greeted Y/N’s parents with ease.
Made conversation effortlessly.
Held Y/N’s hand without hesitation.
And every time someone looked away, she’d squeeze Y/N’s hand teasingly just to watch her panic.
“You need to relax.”
“I’m relaxed.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
Daniela looked down.
Y/N was gripping her water bottle so tightly it looked seconds away from exploding.
Daniela laughed.
Y/N nearly passed out.
Things somehow got worse after that.
Because fake dating required consistency.
Consistency meant spending time together.
A lot of time together.
Way more time than they normally would’ve.
They started attending events together.
Posting pictures together.
Showing up places together.
And slowly people stopped questioning it.
Everyone believed they were a couple.
Even strangers.
Which would’ve been fine if Y/N wasn’t slowly losing her mind.
Because Daniela was affectionate.
Very affectionate.
The kind of affectionate that seemed harmless until it wasn’t.
She leaned against Y/N naturally.
Fixed her hair absentmindedly.
Rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder during long drives.
Stole food off her plate.
Sent good morning texts.
Goodnight texts.
Random texts.
And every single thing made Y/N’s feelings worse.
The first major problem appeared at a party.
A party neither of them wanted to attend.
But fake girlfriends attended things together.
So there they were.
Y/N was talking to someone near the drinks table when she noticed Daniela across the room.
Laughing.
Smiling.
Talking to another girl.
A very attractive girl.
Y/N immediately looked away.
Then looked back.
Then looked away again.
Because why was that girl standing so close?
Why was she touching Daniela’s arm?
Why was Daniela laughing at everything she said?
Y/N hated this.
Hated it.
A lot.
She spent the next ten minutes pretending she didn’t care.
Which would’ve worked better if she hadn’t been staring from across the room the entire time.
Eventually Daniela appeared beside her.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
Daniela raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mhm.”
Y/N crossed her arms.
Daniela looked toward the other girl.
Then back at Y/N.
And suddenly she smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“Oh.”
Y/N immediately knew.
She knew Daniela knew.
And that was horrifying.
The drive home was awful.
Because Daniela wouldn’t stop smiling.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Daniela.”
“Nothing.”
“You’re being annoying.”
Daniela laughed.
“You were jealous.”
Y/N almost swerved.
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You stared at us for twenty minutes.”
“I was observing.”
Daniela laughed so hard she started crying.
And Y/N contemplated driving into a lake.
The problem was that Daniela started noticing things.
Little things.
Things Y/N couldn’t hide anymore.
Like how Y/N always stood slightly closer when crowds got too big.
How she always opened doors.
How she remembered tiny details.
How her voice softened whenever she spoke directly to Daniela.
Daniela noticed all of it.
And unfortunately—
She liked it.
Way too much.
The feelings hit Daniela all at once one afternoon.
A random afternoon.
The worst kind.
They were sitting together at a café.
Working on absolutely nothing.
Y/N was talking about something.
Daniela wasn’t listening.
Not because she didn’t care.
But because she was distracted.
Distracted by the way Y/N looked while talking.
Distracted by the way she smiled.
Distracted by how safe she felt around her.
And suddenly the realization hit.
Hard.
Oh no.
She liked her.
For real.
Not fake dating liked her.
Actually liked her.
Which was a disaster.
Because the whole point was that none of this was supposed to be real.
After that everything became harder.
Every accidental touch lingered longer.
Every compliment felt heavier.
Every glance lasted a second too long.
And neither of them knew what to do about it.
The tension became unbearable.
Friends noticed.
Family noticed.
Even strangers noticed.
Everyone except the two people involved seemed willing to acknowledge what was happening.
Until one night.
A month before their fake relationship was supposed to end.
They attended another event together.
Nothing special.
Just another dinner.
Another appearance.
Another night of pretending.
But by then pretending felt impossible.
Because Y/N couldn’t stop looking at Daniela.
And Daniela couldn’t stop looking back.
At some point they ended up alone outside.
The party continued behind them.
Music drifting through open doors.
Lights glowing in the distance.
Neither spoke immediately.
The silence felt different tonight.
Heavier.
Y/N leaned against the railing.
Daniela stood beside her.
Close enough to touch.
Close enough to make breathing difficult.
“This fake dating thing sucks.”
Daniela laughed softly.
“It was your idea.”
“Worst idea I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
Y/N looked at her.
And suddenly neither of them were smiling anymore.
Because they both understood.
Finally.
“Yeah,” Y/N said quietly.
Daniela swallowed.
“Why?”
Y/N laughed once.
Nervously.
Then looked away.
“Because I don’t think it’s fake anymore.”
The world seemed to stop.
Daniela stared.
Y/N stared at the ground.
Neither moved.
Then Daniela smiled.
Small.
Soft.
Relieved.
“Good.”
Y/N looked up.
“What?”
Daniela took a step closer.
Heart racing.
“Because I was starting to think I was the only one.”
And for the first time since this ridiculous fake dating arrangement began
Neither of them had to pretend anymore.
Eight Hours
Info: Mascreader Megan
Summary: Y/n and Megan are forced to go on an eight hour road trip.
Eight Hours
If someone had told Y/N a week ago that she'd willingly agree to spend eight hours trapped in a car with Megan, she would've laughed in their face.
Not because she disliked Megan.
That would've been easier.
The problem was that she liked Megan a little too much.
And she'd been trying very hard not to think about that.
Unfortunately, life seemed determined to make things difficult.
Which was exactly how she found herself parked outside Megan's house at eight in the morning, one hand resting on the steering wheel while she mentally prepared herself for the longest drive of her life.
The trip wasn't even their idea.
A mutual friend had asked if either of them could make the drive to an event a few states away. Flights had fallen through. Plans changed. Suddenly it became:
Y/N drives. Megan rides along.
Simple.
In theory.
In reality?
Y/N hadn't had a normal conversation with Megan in months without accidentally noticing how pretty she was.
The front door opened.
And immediately Y/N knew she was in trouble.
Megan stepped outside carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder.
Grey sweats.
Oversized hoodie.
Messy hair.
No makeup.
And somehow she still looked incredible.
Y/N immediately looked away.
Great.
The trip hadn't even started yet.
A second later the passenger door opened.
"Morning."
Y/N cleared her throat.
"Morning."
Megan tossed her bag into the backseat and settled in comfortably.
The car instantly felt smaller.
Way smaller.
Too small.
"Ready?" Y/N asked.
Megan smiled.
"Ready."
And just like that, they were off.
The first hour wasn't bad.
Actually, it was surprisingly easy.
Music played quietly through the speakers.
Traffic was light.
The morning sun stretched across the highway.
Megan spent most of the first hour singing along to songs she barely knew the lyrics to.
Badly.
Very badly.
Y/N eventually had enough.
"You realize you're making up half the words?"
Megan gasped dramatically.
"I am an artist."
"You're a criminal."
Megan laughed.
And Y/N felt her stomach do something deeply embarrassing.
Because that laugh.
God.
That laugh.
It was impossible not to smile when Megan laughed.
"You wound me."
"I'll survive."
"No empathy."
"None."
Megan shook her head.
"I can't believe people think you're intimidating."
"They do."
"You're literally laughing at me."
"Because you're ridiculous."
Megan pointed at her.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The smile."
Y/N looked confused.
"You smile way more than people think."
The comment caught her off guard.
Because it felt oddly specific.
Like Megan had been paying attention.
Which wasn't helping.
At all.
Around noon they stopped for food.
A small roadside diner just off the highway.
Nothing fancy.
The kind of place where every booth looked older than both of them.
They slid into a booth across from each other.
The waitress dropped off menus.
And immediately Megan reached over and stole one of Y/N's fries.
Y/N stared.
"Seriously?"
Megan smiled sweetly.
"What?"
"You ordered fries."
"These looked better."
"They're the same fries."
Megan shrugged.
"Still."
Y/N rolled her eyes.
But she was smiling.
And Megan noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Because Megan seemed to notice everything.
By hour four, things had changed.
Not dramatically.
Just naturally.
The conversations got deeper.
More personal.
More real.
The kind of conversations that only happen when you're stuck together for long periods of time.
Stories about childhood.
Family.
Dreams.
Regrets.
Things they normally never talked about.
At some point Megan had taken her shoes off and tucked one leg underneath herself in the passenger seat.
At some point Y/N had stopped feeling nervous.
At least a little.
At some point they stopped acting like acquaintances.
And started acting like friends.
Real friends.
Maybe something more.
Neither one wanted to think too hard about that.
The sun was beginning to set when things shifted.
Really shifted.
Golden light flooded through the windows.
The highway stretched endlessly ahead.
And the conversation slowed.
Comfortable silence settled between them.
Megan looked out the window for a while.
Then looked back at Y/N.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Depends."
Megan rolled her eyes.
"You always say that."
"Because it's true."
She smiled.
Then tilted her head slightly.
"Why are you single?"
Y/N nearly choked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A normal one."
"No it isn't."
"It absolutely is."
Y/N laughed nervously.
Megan crossed her arms.
"Answer."
"No."
"Answer."
"You sound like a child."
"Thank you."
Y/N shook her head.
Then sighed dramatically.
"I don't know."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the truth."
Megan studied her.
And for some reason that made Y/N nervous.
Really nervous.
Because Megan had pretty eyes.
Dangerously pretty eyes.
"You've seriously never wondered?" Megan asked.
"Wondered what?"
"Why everybody likes you."
Y/N blinked.
"What?"
Megan shrugged.
"People are always talking about you."
Now Y/N was confused.
"No they aren't."
Megan laughed.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"You actually don't know."
"Know what?"
Megan stared at her.
Then looked away.
Like she'd accidentally said too much.
Which only made Y/N more curious.
"Megan."
"Nope."
"Megan."
"No."
"Megan."
She sighed dramatically.
Then muttered:
"You're attractive."
Silence.
The car suddenly felt very quiet.
Y/N glanced over.
Megan immediately regretted everything.
She could feel it.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"You think I'm attractive."
Megan covered her face.
"Please focus on driving."
Y/N laughed.
Actually laughed.
Hard.
And Megan hated how much she loved hearing it.
The rain started around eight.
Light at first.
Then heavier.
Visibility dropped quickly.
The roads became difficult to see.
Eventually Y/N sighed.
"We should stop."
Megan nodded.
"Probably."
A hotel appeared a few exits later.
Nothing fancy.
Just somewhere to sleep.
One room available.
Two beds.
Megan tried very hard not to look disappointed.
Unfortunately Y/N looked equally disappointed.
Which was somehow worse.
The room itself was simple.
Two beds.
One television.
A small lamp.
Nothing special.
But after eight hours in a car, it felt amazing.
Megan immediately collapsed onto one of the beds.
"I can't move."
"You were sitting."
"Exactly."
Y/N laughed.
Then kicked off her shoes.
For a while neither spoke.
The rain tapped softly against the windows.
The room glowed with warm yellow light.
Everything felt oddly peaceful.
Then Megan broke the silence.
"Can I tell you something?"
Y/N looked over.
"Sure."
Megan stared at the ceiling.
Trying not to chicken out.
Which was difficult.
Because this was a terrible idea.
A horrible idea.
The worst idea she'd ever had.
Still.
She said it.
"I was nervous about this trip."
Y/N looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Megan turned her head slightly.
Meeting her eyes.
And immediately forgetting every prepared answer.
Because Y/N looked beautiful tonight.
Soft.
Relaxed.
Comfortable.
Dangerous.
"You make me nervous."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Y/N froze.
"What?"
Megan laughed weakly.
"See? This is why I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Megan."
She groaned.
Then buried her face in a pillow.
"I think you're attractive, okay?"
Silence.
Dead silence.
Then:
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"You think I'm attractive."
Megan wanted to disappear.
Immediately.
Preferably through the floor.
"Please stop repeating it."
But when she looked up—
Y/N was smiling.
Not teasing.
Not laughing.
Just smiling.
Softly.
And somehow that made her heart beat even faster.
"Can I tell you something too?"
Megan swallowed.
"Okay."
Y/N looked down briefly.
Then back up.
And for the first time all day, she looked nervous.
Actually nervous.
"I thought you were beautiful the second I picked you up this morning."
Megan's brain stopped working.
Completely.
Nothing.
Just static.
"What?"
Y/N laughed softly.
"You heard me."
Neither spoke after that.
They just looked at each other.
The rain continuing outside.
The room feeling smaller by the second.
And for the first time since the trip began—
Neither of them felt like they had eight hours left to survive.
Instead, it suddenly felt like eight hours wasn't nearly enough.
Secret Admirer || Daniela Avanzini
Pairing: Popular!Daniela Avanzini x Nerd!Reader
Summary: Where at least twice a week, Daniela would receive anonymous letters from a secret admirer, and other times she'd get huge bouquets of flowers and chocolates. Daniela had absolutely no idea who was behind it all, but she seemed determined to find out.
Note: English is not my first language.
Warning: Mention of Hierarchical Difference (Popular x Nerd), Daniela is a bit spoiled, Reader is described as Tall and Muscular, Clumsy Reader, Secret Crush, Some Angst and Comfort!
Katseye Masterlist
Saint Claire Academy was a masterpiece of Gothic architecture that seemed to have been ripped straight out of some ancient European city and planted in the middle of the bustling metropolis. Polished marble hallways reflected the light streaming through arched windows, painting geometric patterns on the floor. On the ceiling, frescoes told stories of saints and sages, as if every step taken there were a sacred act of learning.
But any student who had spent more than a week at that institution knew that Saint Claire's true belief system wasn't in the frescoes.
It was in the invisible, yet fierce, hierarchy that governed every interaction, every laugh, every glance.
And at the top of that social pyramid, breathing the rarefied air of the gods, was Daniela Avanzini.
It wasn't just her beauty, though that alone was enough to stop traffic. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, as if even gravity refused to disrespect her. Her honey-brown eyes held a lively, intelligent sparkle that seemed to say, "I know exactly what you're thinking," and usually, she did. Her smile was an event, something that made the people around her hold their breath, waiting for a glimpse of divine approval.
Daniela Avanzini wasn't popular.
Daniela Avanzini was popularity.
She walked through the hallways as if she owned the place, and in a way, she did. Students stepped aside to let her pass, not out of fear, but out of a kind of reverential respect. Girls wanted to be her. Boys wanted to be with her. And Daniela, generous in her benevolent royalty, occasionally granted crumbs of attention to her subjects.
You, on the other hand…
Well, you existed in a completely different universe.
Your world didn't have polished marble or ceiling frescoes.
Your world had the smell of aged paper, printer ink, and the comforting silence of the third-floor library. There, books didn't judge. There, equations had no hierarchies. A Pythagorean theorem was immune to your social standing.
That was where you felt at home.
You were tall. Not in that elegant, model-like way, like the girls in Daniela's group. You were tall in a gangly way, with broad shoulders you didn't quite know what to do with, long arms that seemed to have a life of their own, especially when you got nervous, which was whenever Daniela Avanzini was within a ten-meter radius.
Hours at the gym had sculpted your body in a way that other people might find intimidating. Defined muscles under pale skin, large hands that could lift impressive weights but trembled like green twigs when you tried to, I don't know, grab a glass of water in front of Daniela.
A paradoxical combination: the muscular nerd.
And clumsy. Very clumsy.
Once, you were leaving the chemistry room with your books when Daniela passed you in the hallway. Her perfume, something citrusy and floral, you spent weeks trying to identify the brand, you later found out it was a French import, invaded your senses. Your brain short-circuited. You tripped over your own feet, dropped a stack of notebooks, and nearly took a decorative plant pot with you.
Daniela didn't even notice.
She walked past you as if you were part of the furniture.
And, in a way, you were.
To Daniela Avanzini, you were just another piece of the scenery. The tall, clumsy girl who carried books that were too heavy and avoided eye contact. Invisible. Harmless. Irrelevant.
And that was fine.
Really.
You repeated that to yourself every night, before going to sleep, as you replayed every tiny detail of those seconds of indirect interaction. It's fine. I don't need her to notice me. I don't need her to see me. I can admire from afar. Like a work of art. Like something beautiful and unattainable.
But Daniela's honey-brown eyes, when they occasionally swept the room and ignored you, left an emptiness.
An emptiness that began to grow.
An emptiness that began to hurt.
Until, one day, the emptiness became unbearable.
It was on a rainy Tuesday. You were sitting in your usual spot in the library, the table in the corner, near the window, where the light was good and no one bothered you. Your calculus notebook was open to page twenty-three, but your mind was elsewhere.
On Daniela.
She was wearing a beige sweater that day, you remembered. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun that, on anyone else, would be sloppiness; on her, it was style. She was laughing at something Sophia had said, and that sound, a laugh that sounded like musical notes, had followed you through every class, chased you to the library, haunted you in the silence.
And then, without thinking much, maybe that was the problem, you never thought when it involved Daniela, you grabbed a pen and started to write.
"For you," the letter began, the handwriting hesitant, trembling. "For the girl who makes the sun look dull. For the girl whose laugh I would hear in the middle of a noisy crowd. For the girl who doesn't know my name, but who makes me want to shout it from the rooftops."
You wrote about the way the light hit her hair during sunrise, creating a false halo of a saint. You wrote about the way she bit the tip of her pen when she was focused on reading, the little furrow of her brow, the slight biting of her lips. You wrote about how beautiful she was and how distant she was and how it broke your heart in a way you didn't even know was possible.
When you finished, you read it all over again, felt your face burn, and thought about tearing it up.
But you didn't.
Instead, you folded the paper into three parts, found a purple envelope in your backpack, when did you buy purple envelopes? and, the next day, before the first bell, you left the letter in her locker.
Your heart hammered so hard you were sure someone would hear. Your hands trembled. You nearly dropped the envelope three times before managing to slide it through the slit of the locker.
You ran to the classroom as if the devil were chasing you.
And spent the rest of the day with your stomach in knots.
The reaction was… bigger than you imagined.
The next day, during break, you were sitting in the courtyard eating a cheese sandwich when Daniela appeared. Not near you, of course. Daniela appeared in the epicenter of the courtyard, surrounded by her usual entourage: Manon, with her watchful eyes and calculating smile; Sophia, the sweetest of the group, with her easy laugh; and other faces you only knew by sight.
Daniela was holding the letter.
Your letter.
"Guys, look what I found!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Someone left it in my locker!"
Manon took the letter first, reading quickly, a smile appearing on her lips.
"'For the girl whose laugh I would hear in the middle of a noisy crowd.'" She read aloud, and you felt your stomach twist. "Wow, Dani. Someone's in love."
"It's so cute!" Sophia practically jumped, trying to read over Manon's shoulder. "Who do you think wrote it?"
Daniela took the letter back, a smug smile curving her lips. She examined the handwriting, turned the paper over, smelled it, she smelled the paper, and you nearly died right there.
"No perfume." She observed, with a small furrow of her brow. "Guys usually put perfume on letters, don't they?"
"Maybe it's someone more… discreet." Sophia suggested.
"Or more clueless." Manon added, but there was a playful tone in her voice.
Daniela tucked the letter into her bag carefully, as if it were a treasure. Her honey-colored eyes swept across the courtyard, examining every face, every possible suspect.
"I'm going to find out who it is." She declared, and there was determination in her voice. "I always find out."
You sank a little lower in your seat, praying for the ground to open up and swallow you.
—
Twice a week. Religiously. Like a sacred ritual.
Monday and Thursday.
Those were the days for the letters.
You developed an elaborate system. You watched Daniela, but not in an obvious way, at least, you hoped it wasn't obvious. You took note of small details: the book she mentioned reading in literature class (Pride and Prejudice, she said she adored Darcy), the flower she pointed out on the way to the parking lot (pink gerberas), the chocolate she always ordered at the school cafeteria (salted caramel, Belgian, from a specific brand).
Every piece of information was cataloged in your brain, archived, transformed into material for the next letter, the next gift.
The letters evolved quickly.
A week after the first, you left a bouquet of pink gerberas in her locker. The bouquet was enormous, almost ridiculous, with thirty-six carefully arranged stems. You saved up for weeks to pay for it.
When Daniela opened her locker and saw the flowers, the scream she let out echoed through the entire hallway.
"GERBERAS!" She held the bouquet as if it were a trophy, spinning around to show everyone. "How does he know? How does he know they're my favorites?"
Manon raised an eyebrow.
"He? Or she?"
Daniela blinked.
"What?"
"Sophia mentioned it the other day." Manon continued, with a mysterious smile. "That maybe your secret admirer wasn't so… masculine after all."
Daniela frowned, confused. Her honey-brown eyes scanned the hallway, sweeping over the curious faces watching the scene.
"No." She said, finally. "Is the handwriting feminine? I don't know. Maybe it's a sensitive guy. There are sensitive guys, Manon."
"There are." Manon agreed, but there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she still had her doubts.
You were just five meters away, leaning against the water fountain, holding a water bottle tightly enough to crumple the plastic. A part of you wanted to run. Another part wanted to confess everything right there, shout "IT WAS ME!", see the surprise in her eyes, the recognition.
But you did none of that.
You just watched, invisible, as Daniela smiled at the bouquet of gerberas with a happiness that wasn't for you.
—
It was inevitable.
Daniela wasn't the type to leave mysteries unsolved. She was determined, stubborn, and loved a challenge. And the secret admirer, that anonymous being who knew her tastes, her preferences, who made her feel special in a way no boy at school had ever managed, was the perfect challenge.
She started interrogating people.
Not aggressively, but with the disarming charm that only Daniela Avanzini possessed. She would approach someone during break, tilt her head, smile that smile that made knees go weak, and ask in a casual tone:
"You wouldn't happen to have any idea who's been sending me flowers, would you?"
Most people stuttered, blushed, denied vehemently. Some even confessed false affections, hoping it would bring them closer to her.
Daniela laughed, thanked them, and crossed names off an imaginary list.
You watched everything from afar, feeling your heart in your throat every time she approached your danger zone.
And then, the day came.
You were in the cafeteria, sitting at a corner table with your calculus companions, Yoonchae, who was quiet and brilliant, and Lara, who was loud and also brilliant, and Megan, who was both. You were distractedly biting into an apple when you felt the shadow.
A shadow of French perfume and overwhelming presence.
"Hey."
You looked up.
Daniela Avanzini was standing right in front of you, arms crossed, head slightly tilted. Her honey-colored eyes examined you with an intensity that made your brain melt into a useless puddle inside your skull.
"H-h-hey." You managed to articulate, after an awkward pause.
"You're the big girl who's always in the library, right?"
Big girl.
The word hit you like a punch. But you swallowed hard and nodded.
"Y/n," you managed to say your own name, which was already a miracle. "My name is Y/n."
"Y/n." Daniela repeated, as if tasting the word. Her smile widened slightly. "Right, Y/n. Tell me something."
She leaned forward a little, reducing the distance between you. You could see the tiny golden reflections in her eyes, could smell her perfume, could count the seconds your heart stopped beating.
"You wouldn't happen to have any idea who's been sending me flowers, would you?"
The words got lost somewhere between your brain and your mouth. You opened and closed your lips like a fish out of water. Your ears started to burn, oh, no, you knew what was coming next. First the ears, then the cheeks, then the neck. You were going to turn into a tomato right in front of her.
"F-flowers?" The word came out strangled. "I'm… allergic."
The lie was so absurd, so senseless, you almost laughed at yourself.
Beside you, Lara and Megan exchanged glances. Yoonchae hid her face behind her book.
Daniela watched you for a long moment. Her eyes traveled over your red face, your broad shoulders, your trembling hands.
"Of course not." She murmured, more to herself than to you. Her voice had a tone of disappointment. "Too clumsy to be that romantic."
She turned and walked away.
Manon and Sophia, who had been watching from afar, followed her.
You stood still, the apple forgotten on the table, the words echoing inside you like a painful mantra.
Too clumsy to be that romantic.
Too clumsy.
Clumsy.
That night, you didn't sleep.
Not because of the embarrassment, although that certainly contributed. But because something inside you had broken. Not the admiration. Not the affection. But the illusion that, maybe, one day, Daniela might see you as something more than a clumsy big girl.
Maybe she was right. Maybe you were incapable of a caring gesture. Maybe everything you felt was just… inadequate.
But the next night, you wrote another letter.
—
Weeks turned into months.
Daniela Avanzini's secret admirer became a legend at Saint Claire. People speculated in the hallways, bet money during breaks, kept suspect lists that were updated weekly.
No one, absolutely no one, put Y/n's name on that list.
Because how could it be? The tall, clumsy girl who could barely form a full sentence near Daniela? The nerd who spent breaks in the library while normal people socialized? It was ridiculous.
It was perfect.
You took advantage of this invisibility masterfully.
The gifts became more elaborate. Not just letters and flowers, but small gestures that demonstrated an intimacy that bordered on obsessive. One day, Daniela casually mentioned she had lost her favorite bookmark. The next day, a new bookmark, identical to the old one, appeared inside her literature book, with a note: "So you can pick up where you left off. Literally."
Daniela took the bookmark home and slept with it under her pillow. Manon found out later and didn't stop laughing for a week.
Another time, Daniela commented about a thermal mug that had broken. A week later, a new mug, exactly the same model, appeared on her desk in the classroom. The note said: "Hot coffee is a necessity, not a luxury."
"This is creepy." Sophia admitted, watching Daniela hug the mug like it was a puppy. "Whoever it is is watching you. For real."
"It's romantic." Daniela countered, but there was a slight tremor in her voice. "It's… attention. No one's ever given me this much attention."
Manon raised an eyebrow.
"Dani, everyone gives you attention."
"Not like this." Daniela said, and her honey-colored eyes drifted away, lost in thought. "Not in the way that… that seems like they really see me."
You heard this conversation from behind a pillar, where you were hiding, not intentionally, you were just trying to get to the chemistry room and the path passed near them. Your hands sweated. Your heart raced.
She was starting to understand.
Or maybe not.
Because the next day, Daniela was back to her usual interrogation, approaching a boy from the soccer team with a charming smile.
"You wouldn't happen to have any idea who's been sending me flowers, would you?"
The boy, a tall blond named Mateus, blushed intensely.
"I… I mean… maybe…"
Daniela's eyes widened.
"It was you?"
"No! No, I mean… no, but I wish it had been." He stammered, and Daniela sighed, frustrated.
Another name crossed off the list.
You sighed in relief, hidden behind a column, the bouquet of lilies you planned to deliver later still hidden in your backpack.
—
Autumn arrived at Saint Claire with its palette of warm colors and the smell of dry leaves. The marble hallways grew colder, and students started wearing heavier coats, which, you discovered, was a tactical advantage. The larger pockets made transporting notes easier.
On that specific afternoon, Daniela was sitting in the café inside the school. Not the main one, but the cozy one on the second floor, with velvet armchairs and dark wood tables. Manon and Sophia were with her, chattering about some gossip you couldn't quite hear, even if you leaned dangerously out of your hiding spot behind a bookshelf.
Daniela wasn't paying attention.
You saw it. You always saw it.
Her honey-brown eyes were fixed on a vague point on the floor, her mind clearly elsewhere. She was spinning a pen between her fingers, a nervous habit you had noticed weeks ago, when she was particularly anxious about a math test.
"Dani? Dani!" Manon poked her arm. "Are you listening?"
"What? Yes, of course." Daniela blinked, coming back to reality. "Sophia's going to order the turkey sandwich, and you want the smoked salmon."
"That was five minutes ago." Manon said, with narrowed eyes. "Where is your head?"
Daniela sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"I was thinking about the last note."
"Ah." Sophia and Manon said in unison.
"He mentioned the pink tulips." Daniela continued, almost speaking to herself. "How did he know I talked to you about pink tulips, Manon? It was on Monday, in the hallway, for a few seconds. No one was around."
Manon frowned.
"Maybe someone was and you didn't notice."
"I always notice." Daniela said, but her voice didn't have its usual conviction. She seemed… disturbed. "It's like he's always there. Watching me. Knowing me. And I don't even know who it is."
Sophia touched her shoulder affectionately.
"Does that bother you?"
"No." Daniela answered too quickly. Then, more slowly: "I don't know. Maybe. It's strange to think that someone sees me in a way I don't see myself."
You held your breath behind the bookshelf.
She doesn't know, you thought. She has no idea.
And then Daniela sighed, stretched her arms over the table, and murmured:
"What a boring day. I'd trade everything right now for a hot chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie."
You froze.
A hot chocolate and a chocolate chip cookie.
The information burned itself into your brain like fire. You left the café before they could see you, ran up the stairs, crossed the courtyard in long strides, and arrived at the main canteen breathless.
"One hot chocolate." You ordered, throwing money on the counter. "And three, no, five chocolate chip cookies. And… put whipped cream on the chocolate. Lots of whipped cream."
The employee raised an eyebrow, but prepared the order.
Five minutes later, you were back at the café, hidden behind the same bookshelf, watching.
"Miss Avanzini?" The waitress who worked at the café approached the table, carrying a tray.
Daniela looked up, surprised.
"Yes?"
"Someone sent this hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies for you."
The silence at the table was absolute.
Daniela looked at the tray, at the waitress, at the tray again. Her mouth opened slightly.
"Who?" She asked, and her voice came out higher pitched than normal.
"The person asked not to be revealed, miss." The waitress replied, with a small smile. She placed the tray on the table and withdrew.
Daniela stood staring at the steaming hot chocolate, the whipped cream slowly melting, the five cookies perfectly arranged on a small porcelain plate.
"This is…" Sophia started.
"Creepy." Manon finished. "I was going to say creepy."
"Romantic." Daniela whispered, but her voice trembled slightly. "It's… it's romantic. But it's also…"
"Insane." Manon said.
"Very attentive." Sophia corrected.
Daniela picked up the hot chocolate with both hands, as if she needed something to warm herself. Her honey-colored eyes were shining in a different way, not the smug sparkle of someone receiving a compliment, but something deeper. More vulnerable.
"How does he know?" She asked in a low voice, almost to herself. "How does he know everything about me?"
Manon and Sophia exchanged glances.
"Maybe it's someone who's been watching you for a long time." Sophia suggested softly.
"Maybe it's someone who's closer than you think." Manon added.
Daniela bit into the cookie, and her eyes widened.
"It's my favorite." She murmured. "It's exactly my favorite."
On the other side of the café, you were sitting at the corner table with Megan, Yoonchae, and Lara. You tried to look casual, stirring your own hot chocolate, which you had bought as a cover, but your hands were shaking so much the liquid threatened to spill.
"Why are you so nervous?" Megan asked, with narrowed eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Cold." You lied. "It's cold."
Lara laughed.
"It's twenty-three degrees."
Yoonchae lifted her eyes from her book for a moment, observed you, and then returned to her reading with a small smile on her lips.
She knows, you thought, feeling the panic rise. Yoonchae always knows everything.
But none of them said anything.
They just drank their coffee, ate their cakes, and pretended not to notice when you spent five minutes staring at Daniela's table as if she were the center of the universe.
Because, to you, she was.
—
The weeks continued. The gifts continued. The notes continued.
But something had changed.
Daniela was no longer just enchanted. She was… obsessed.
Not with the gifts themselves, although they continued to be luxurious and perfectly thought out. But with the mystery. With the person behind them.
She started observing people in a different way. Her honey-colored eyes no longer just cataloged; they investigated. She paid attention to who looked at her for too long, who blushed when she passed by, who hid behind books when she approached.
And you noticed.
You noticed that her eyes were starting to land on you more frequently. Not with interest, not yet. But with a hint of… curiosity.
"Did you notice Y/n today?" Daniela asked Manon on a Thursday, while they were drinking juice in the courtyard. "She was looking at me in history class."
"Everyone looks at you in history class." Manon answered, without looking up from her phone.
"No. It was different. She was… studying. But she was also looking at me."
Manon raised an eyebrow.
"You're getting paranoid, Dani."
"Maybe." Daniela admitted. "But… don't you think it's weird? She's tall, has an athlete's build, but she's completely clumsy around me. The other day she tripped over her own backpack when I walked into the library."
"Maybe she's just clumsy." Manon suggested.
"Or maybe she's nervous."
Silence stretched between them.
"Dani." Manon said, finally, with a warning tone. "Y/n is a weird nerd who spends her time in the library. It's not her."
"I know." Daniela sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know. It's ridiculous. But… she's always around, don't you think? Not in an obvious way. But when I look at the corners, at the quietest places… she's there."
Manon didn't answer.
But her gaze followed Daniela's, landing on the corner table, where you were completely absorbed in a calculus book, or pretending to be.
You felt their eyes on you like a physical weight.
Your heart raced. Your hands sweated. You turned a page you had already read three times.
She's watching me, you thought, panic and hope mixing in a nauseating combination. She's starting to see.
—
February fourteenth arrived.
All of Saint Claire was decorated with paper hearts, red balloons, and roses being sold at exorbitant prices in the main lobby. Couples kissed in the hallways, defying all rules against displays of affection, and the singles walked around crestfallen, carrying the weight of loneliness on a day that celebrated love.
For Daniela Avanzini, however, Valentine's Day wasn't about loneliness.
It was about expectation.
Since six in the morning, gifts had started arriving. Red roses from an admirer who signed only "A Senior Boy." A box of generic chocolates from another who, by the trembling handwriting, was clearly nervous. A silver bracelet, pretty but impersonal.
Daniela thanked them, smiled, stored everything in a bag that Manon carried.
But her eyes remained expectant.
"It hasn't arrived yet." Sophia observed, as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.
"He'll send something." Daniela said, with a confidence that didn't seem entirely genuine. "He always sends."
And then, when they opened her locker after third period…
Daniela stopped.
Her entire body froze.
Inside the locker, occupying all the space, was the most beautiful bouquet she had ever seen. Lilies as white as snow, twenty-four of them, tied with a lavender-colored satin ribbon. Beside it, a box of Swiss chocolates, not just any chocolate, but those from a specific brand that was only sold at a confectionery downtown, two hours away.
And, on top of the chocolates, an envelope.
Daniela picked up the envelope with trembling hands. The handwriting was familiar, the same as the letters, the notes, the small gestures that had marked the last few months.
She opened it.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Daniela.
I know you're confused. I know you want to know who I am. And I wish I could tell you, out loud, looking into your eyes. But fear is greater than courage. The fear that, when you find out, everything will change. The fear that you'll look at me and see only what you've always seen: a shadow. Someone invisible.
But today, on the day of love, I want you to know one thing.
I see you. Not the way others do. Not the popular girl, the queen of Saint Claire, the prettiest girl in the room. I see Daniela. The girl who laughs with her eyes. The girl who bites her lips when she's nervous. The girl who keeps the notes she receives in a box under her bed, yes, I know about that.
I see you. And I love you. Silently. Secretly. Possibly forever.
If you want to know who I am… meet me in the isolated room on the top floor. After the last class. I'll wait.
— Your Silent Admirer"
—
Daniela spent the entire day in a state of nervousness that bordered on a nervous breakdown. She could barely concentrate in class, barely eat, barely breathe. The note was folded in her pocket, the paper already crumpled from how many times she had reread it.
Manon and Sophia tried to go with her, but Daniela refused.
"I need to do this alone." She said, and there was a fierce determination in her eyes.
The stairs to the top floor were narrow and dusty. No one frequented that part of the school since they had deactivated the art rooms the previous year. The light came in weakly through dirty windows, creating elongated shadows on the creaking wooden floor.
Daniela walked down the empty hallway, her footsteps echoing in the stillness.
The isolated room was at the end, on the left. The door was ajar.
She took a deep breath. Once. Twice.
She pushed the door open.
And froze.
You were there.
Sitting at an old desk, in the corner of the room, your hands resting on your knees and your head bowed. The light from the dirty window fell on your broad shoulders, on the gray sweater you were wearing, on your large hands that trembled slightly.
Daniela stood in the doorway for a long moment, processing.
"You." She finally said, and her voice came out strange, not surprise, not anger, not… anything she expected to feel.
You lifted your eyes.
Your face was red, not just your cheeks, but your neck, your ears, even the top of your forehead. Your eyes were glistening, as if you had been crying, or were about to.
"Daniela." You said, and her name came out of your mouth like a prayer. "I… I can explain."
"It's you?" Daniela took a step forward, her honey-colored eyes wide, incredulous. "The clumsy nerd who can't form a sentence around me? The girl who said she was allergic to flowers? It's you who's been sending me letters for months? Who gives me pink gerberas and Belgian chocolates and bookmarks?"
You swallowed hard.
"Yes."
"And you know what kind of cookie I like?" Daniela's voice was getting louder, higher pitched. "And what brand of Swiss chocolates I prefer? And that I keep the notes under my bed? How do you know that, Y/n?"
You stood up from the chair, your fight or flight instincts screaming to run, but your legs refused to obey.
"Because I watch you." You said, and your voice came out firmer than you expected. "Because I've been watching you for two years, Daniela. Since the first day you walked into that history room with a blue sweater and a smile that… that made me forget how to breathe."
Daniela opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
"I know it sounds creepy." You continued, the words pouring out like a waterfall now, impossible to contain. "I know it sounds obsessive. And maybe it is. But it's not… it's not the way you think. I don't want to scare you. I don't want to hurt you. I just… I just wanted you to know that someone sees you. Someone really sees you. Someone cares about the little details, about the way you furrow your brow when you're confused, about the way you hold your pen when you're nervous, about the fact that you hate it when people interrupt you mid-sentence."
Daniela took another step forward. Then another. Now she was just a meter away.
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Her voice was strangely… fragile. A fragility you had never heard before. "Why stay in the shadows?"
"Because I was scared." You admitted, and a tear escaped, sliding down your hot face. "You're Daniela Avanzini. You're the sun. And I'm… I'm just someone who lives in the dimness, admiring from afar. I thought if you knew, you'd laugh. Or worse, you'd feel pity. 'The clumsy big girl who can't even talk to me properly.' That's what you said. 'Too clumsy to be romantic.'"
Daniela's face changed. Surprise gave way to something you couldn't identify, guilt? Regret?
"Y/n, I…" She started.
"You don't have to apologize." You cut in, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. "You were right. I am clumsy. I am weird. I spend breaks in the library while you're out there, living. But when I write those letters… when I choose those flowers… I don't feel clumsy. I feel… enough. I feel like, for a few minutes, I can be the person who makes you smile. And that…"
Your voice broke.
Daniela took the last step. Now she was right in front of you, so close you could feel the heat of her body, could see the tiny particles of gold in her honey-brown eyes.
"And that what?" She asked softly.
"That's all I ever wanted." You whispered. "Not to be loved back. Not to be corresponded. Just… to know that I can make you happy. Even if you never know my name."
The room fell silent.
The wind blew outside, making the dirty windows tremble. A dry leaf danced across the floor.
And then, before you could say anything else…
Daniela leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn't a soft kiss, nor hesitant. It was a determined kiss, as if she was trying to prove something to you, or to herself. Her lips met yours with an intensity that made you take a step back, your back hitting the dusty wall.
Daniela followed the movement, her hands coming up to grab your sweater, pulling you closer.
You stood paralyzed for a second, two, three, your brain overloaded, unable to process what was happening.
Then, something inside you broke loose.
Your hands, those large, trembling, clumsy hands, rose and found Daniela's waist. You pulled her against you, harder than you intended, and Daniela let out a small sound of surprise against your lips.
The kiss deepened.
There was no technique there, just two years of frustration, two years of silent desire, two years of "too clumsy" being dismantled in a single gesture.
When Daniela finally pulled back, her lips were red and swollen, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Never again." She said, her voice hoarse. "Never call yourself clumsy again. Do you hear me?"
You nodded, unable to form words.
"And never again." She continued, her fingers caressing your face, wiping away the traces of your tears. "Never think you're not enough. You gave me gerberas and chocolates and notes that made me feel… made me feel like someone saw me. Really saw me. No one's ever done that before."
"Daniela…" You started, but she cut you off with another kiss, quicker, lighter, almost a seal.
"You're an idiot." She murmured against your lips. "A romantic, creepy, and… and amazing idiot. How did you manage to hide this for so long?"
"Fear." You repeated, your forehead resting against hers. "A lot of fear."
"Of me?"
"Of losing you. Even though I never had you to begin with."
Daniela laughed, that laugh you had spent two years hearing from afar, which was now so close you could feel the vibration against your chest.
"You're ridiculous." She said.
"I know."
"And clumsy."
"I also know."
"And mine."
You blinked.
"What?"
Daniela pulled back enough to look into your eyes. Her smile was different now, not the smug smile of the queen of Saint Claire, but something more genuine. More vulnerable.
"Mine." She repeated. "You're mine. From now on. Because if you thought you were going to write all those letters, give me all those gifts, know all my secrets, and then just… disappear again… you're very wrong, Y/n."
You laughed, a silly, incredulous laugh, that echoed through the empty room.
"I'm not going anywhere." You promised.
"Good." Daniela said, and her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you into a hug. "Because I have a huge list of questions. How did you find out about my favorite bookmark? How did you know about the Swiss chocolate? And how the hell did you manage to get into my classroom to put the new mug there without anyone seeing?"
"Professional secrets." You joked, and Daniela laughed against your shoulder.
Outside the room, hidden behind the door, Manon, Sophia, Lara, Megan, and Yoonchae exchanged glances of pure triumph.
"I knew it." Megan whispered, with a huge smile.
"You bet against it." Lara reminded her.
"Details."
Yoonchae just smiled, turning another page of her book, as if nothing had happened.
As if she already knew the ending of this story from the beginning.
—
The next day, Daniela Avanzini showed up at the library.
Not to look for a book, not to interrogate anyone, but to sit at your table. Right in front of you.
"I'm bored." She announced, as if that explained everything. "And you have the most interesting face in the library."
You blushed, you would always blush around her, apparently, but you smiled.
"You hate the library."
"I do." Daniela agreed. "But you're here."
And she pulled up a chair, sat down next to you, and spent the whole afternoon watching you solve calculus equations while eating the chocolates you had brought, "just in case," you said.
Daniela laughed.
And the sun, for the first time, decided that the shadow also deserved a little light.
My Sisters Tutor
Info: Manonxmascreader
Summary: Y/N starts noticing her little sister’s tutor Manon during quiet moments at home. What begins as simple interactions slowly turns into mutual tension, soft flirting, and obvious feelings neither of them admit. Even Y/N’s sister can tell something is going on between them before they finally start to act on it.
Y/N POV
Practice had already drained every ounce of energy I had.
My legs felt like they were made of concrete, my hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I still had grass stains somewhere on my socks.
Perfect.
Exactly how I wanted to end the day.
When I pushed open the front door, the familiar warmth of home hit me immediately.
And so did voices.
My little sister was sitting at the table, legs swinging, while the girl I’d been trying not to think about too much lately sat across from her.
Manon.
Calm. Focused. Soft expression while explaining something on her laptop.
She looked up the second I walked in.
And I swear—
For a split second, her expression shifted.
Just a little.
“…Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound normal.
My sister immediately stood up.
“Oh my God you stink,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She ran over anyway.
I crouched slightly and hugged her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head like I always did.
“Hi, gremlin.”
“I’m not a gremlin.”
“You absolutely are.”
She giggled, then pulled away.
Manon watched the entire thing.
And I noticed.
Of course I did.
Her gaze flicked away quickly once I looked back.
Interesting.
“Practice was okay?” Manon asked.
“Hell,” I said immediately.
That made her smile.
Small.
But real.
I pointed upstairs. “I’m gonna shower before I become a human stink bomb.”
“Good idea,” my sister said.
“Rude.”
I grabbed my bag and headed upstairs.
But I didn’t miss the way Manon’s eyes followed me for half a second too long.
⸻
Manon POV
Y/N leaving the room felt like the air shifted.
Not in a bad way.
Just… quieter.
Her sister immediately turned toward me.
And smiled.
Too knowingly.
Uh-oh.
“You like my sister,” she said casually.
I nearly dropped my pencil.
“I don’t.”
She leaned forward. “Yes you do.”
“I’m tutoring you,” I said quickly. “That’s it.”
“Sure.”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Then she sighed dramatically like she was the adult here.
“You’re so bad at hiding it.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
She tilted her head. “Okay, so why do you stare at her like that?”
My face warmed instantly.
“I don’t stare.”
“You do.”
“And she stares back,” she added like it was obvious.
I froze slightly.
“…What?”
“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “She looks at you all soft and stuff.”
My brain short-circuited for a second.
“That’s not—”
“Yes it is.”
She leaned back in her chair like she had won something.
“You both are dumb.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You like each other but you act like you don’t.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because the worst part was—
I couldn’t even deny it properly.
⸻
Y/N POV
Shower fixed exactly nothing.
If anything, it made me more aware of the fact that Manon was in my house.
Which was a problem.
A big one.
I threw on a hoodie and shorts before heading downstairs, still drying my hair with a towel.
The house was quieter now.
Too quiet.
I stepped into the living room—
And froze.
Manon was standing by the door.
Bag in hand.
About to leave.
“What? You’re going already?” I asked.
She turned. “It’s late. I should go.”
My sister immediately chimed in from the couch. “She was just about to leave like five minutes ago.”
I shot her a look.
She smiled innocently.
Traitor.
I glanced back at Manon.
“You’re not walking,” I said.
She blinked. “What?”
“It’s late.”
“I’m fine.”
I already grabbed my keys.
“Absolutely not.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to argue—
Then stopped.
Because I was already putting on shoes.
“You’re really bossy,” she said.
“And you’re really walking out of my house without a ride?”
She hesitated.
“…That’s not the point.”
I opened the door. “Get in the car.”
⸻
Manon POV
She didn’t really give me a choice.
Not in a bad way.
Just… confidently.
Like it was obvious.
So I followed her.
The ride was quiet at first.
Not uncomfortable.
Just soft.
Streetlights passed over her face while she drove one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely.
She looked tired.
But still focused.
“Your sister is scary,” I said finally.
Y/N laughed. “She’s worse when she’s bored.”
“She said some things earlier.”
That made her glance at me briefly.
“…What kind of things?”
I hesitated.
Then decided not to lie.
“That I like you.”
The car went a little quieter.
Y/N coughed. “She says that to everyone.”
“No she doesn’t.”
That made her silent for a second.
Then she muttered, “She’s going to get me killed one day.”
I smiled a little.
“She also said you like me too.”
Y/N almost swerved.
“Okay—nope—she’s grounded.”
I laughed softly.
⸻
Y/N POV
The drive felt longer than it should’ve.
Not because of distance.
Because Manon was sitting next to me.
And my brain had officially stopped functioning properly.
“She talks too much,” I said.
“She’s observant,” Manon replied.
“She’s a menace.”
“She’s not wrong though.”
I glanced at her quickly.
“…About what?”
Manon looked out the window.
“You stare at me.”
I almost hit the brakes.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“That’s insane.”
“It’s not.”
Silence.
Then she added quietly:
“And I stare back.”
That shut me up completely.
⸻
Manon POV
I didn’t know why I said it.
Maybe because it was true.
Maybe because I was tired of pretending I didn’t notice everything.
The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
The way she always stayed a little longer in the same room as me.
The way her voice softened when she spoke to me specifically.
We pulled up in front of my house.
She parked but didn’t immediately turn off the engine.
“…We’re here,” she said.
“I know.”
A pause.
Neither of us moved.
Then she turned slightly toward me.
“You get home safe?”
“I will.”
Another pause.
Then she sighed.
“Give me your number.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“So I can make sure you got home.”
“That’s an excuse.”
“It’s not.”
I smiled slightly.
“It is.”
She groaned. “Just give it to me.”
So I did.
And this time, our fingers brushed longer than before.
Neither of us pulled away first.
⸻
Y/N POV
When she finally got out of the car, I rolled down the window.
“Text me when you get inside,” I said.
She smiled.
“I will.”
And then she walked away.
I stayed there for a second longer than necessary.
Until my phone buzzed.
Manon:
thanks for the ride home
That was it.
Simple.
But I stared at it way too long.
“Why am I smiling like this,” I muttered.
⸻
Manon POV
I barely closed my door before I texted her.
Because if I didn’t do it immediately, I would overthink it.
And I didn’t want to overthink it.
Not tonight.
When my phone buzzed again almost instantly, I smiled before I even looked.
⸻
Y/N:
anytime. don’t walk alone again like that tho.
My chest tightened a little.
I typed back without thinking.
⸻
Manon:
bossy again
Three dots appeared instantly.
Then disappeared.
Then reappeared.
⸻
Y/N:
you like it tho
I stared at the screen.
And smiled.
⸻
Y/N POV
I was still looking at my phone like an idiot when I heard footsteps behind me.
“YOU’RE SMILING.”
I jumped.
“WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?”
My sister stood there, grinning like she had just won the lottery.
“You like her.”
“I do not.”
“You are BLUSHING.”
“I’m tired.”
“You are DOWN BAD.”
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.
She dodged it easily.
“THIS IS SO FUNNY,” she yelled while running away.
I buried my face in my hands.
And my phone buzzed again.
And I smiled harder.
Which made everything worse.
And apparently
According to my sister screaming down the hallway—
“I’m doomed”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“ You’re Mine”
Note: youngdanielaxyoungmascreader
Summary: Daniela and Y/n have been childhoods for a long time , always by each other’s side no matter what. One day while their at the park a girl approaches Y/n making Daniela mad at Y/n for letting another girl talk to her, Y/n has no choice but to make it up to her.
The first time Daniela met you, she decided two things immediately.
One: you were weird.
And two: you were hers now.
You were both eight years old sitting outside dance practice while your moms talked nearby. Daniela had been grumpy after rehearsal because another kid accidentally stepped on her shoe.
Meanwhile, you sat beside her quietly holding a juice box.
“You look angry,” you said.
“I am angry.”
“Okay.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why are you still sitting here then?”
You shrugged. “Because you looked lonely.”
That caught her off guard.
She stared at you for a few seconds before shoving half her cookies toward you dramatically.
“Fine,” she mumbled. “You can stay.”
And from that moment on, the two of you became inseparable.
—
By the time you were both eleven, everyone already knew:
If Daniela was somewhere, Y/N probably wasn’t far behind.
You carried her dance bag when she got tired.
Shared snacks with her even when she stole most of them.
Walked closer to the street side of the sidewalk because “that’s safer.”
And if Daniela wanted something?
You usually gave in within five minutes.
“Y/N,” Daniela called dramatically one afternoon while laying upside down across her couch, “I want ice cream.”
“You just had ice cream.”
“I know. I want more.”
You sighed deeply like the request physically pained you.
Then stood up anyway.
Daniela grinned victoriously.
“I knew you loved me.”
“Don’t start.”
“You do though.”
Her mom laughed from the kitchen instantly.
Daniela’s mother absolutely adored you.
Mostly because you never let Daniela do anything alone.
“Y/N is the sweetest kid ever,” she constantly said.
Daniela would roll her eyes every time.
“She’s only nice to me.”
Which honestly… was kind of true.
—
Some of Daniela’s favorite memories involved dancing with you in her living room.
Her mom loved forcing both of you to practice together.
“Come on!” she’d say excitedly while turning music on. “Dance together!”
“Mom,” Daniela would groan dramatically.
But two seconds later, she’d already be dragging you into position.
You weren’t nearly as good as her.
Daniela was naturally talented — confident, expressive, impossible to ignore.
Meanwhile, you mostly followed her movements while trying not to laugh.
“You’re off beat again,” she teased.
“You’re mean again.”
“Focus!”
“You focus.”
She gasped dramatically. “Did you just talk back to me?”
You smiled. “Maybe.”
Her mom recorded everything while laughing in the background.
At one point Daniela spun too fast and nearly fell into the couch.
You caught her immediately by the waist before she could hit the floor.
For a second, both of you froze.
Daniela blinked at you.
Then quickly looked away.
“I meant to do that.”
“Sure you did.”
—
One Saturday afternoon, the two of you went to the park together.
The weather was warm, kids were running around everywhere, and Daniela sat beside you on the swings while sipping a slushy.
“This is your fault,” she said randomly.
You blinked. “What is?”
“My slushy is melting.”
“How is that my fault?”
“You walked too slow.”
You laughed softly. “You complain about everything.”
“Only because you listen.”
That was true too.
Daniela leaned back lazily on the swing while you stood nearby talking about random things.
Then suddenly another girl around your age walked over.
“Hi,” she said shyly toward you. “I like your bracelet.”
“Oh—thanks.”
Daniela immediately stopped swinging.
The girl smiled again. “Where’d you get it?”
“Uh, I made it actually.”
“That’s cool.”
Daniela’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Very slightly.
The girl kept talking to you while you answered politely, completely unaware of the growing irritation beside you.
Eventually the girl waved goodbye and walked off.
The second she left, Daniela hopped off the swing.
“You’re annoying.”
You stared at her in confusion. “What?”
“She was flirting with you.”
Your jaw dropped.
“She literally just liked my bracelet.”
“And you were smiling at her.”
“I smile at everybody.”
“Well stop.”
You blinked several times.
“Dani…”
“No because why were you talking to her for that long?”
“It was like thirty seconds.”
Daniela crossed her arms stubbornly, refusing to look at you.
“You talk to too many girls.”
You tried so hard not to laugh because she looked genuinely upset.
Which somehow made it cuter.
“I’m literally talking to you right now.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I’m me.”
You stared at her for a second before smiling softly.
Yeah.
It definitely was different.
—
Daniela stayed dramatic for the rest of the afternoon.
She walked ahead of you on purpose.
Ignored your jokes.
Refused to share her snacks.
And every time you bumped shoulders with her, she’d mumble, “Go talk to your new friend.”
“You’re actually jealous,” you realized.
“I am NOT jealous.”
“You kinda are.”
She huffed loudly.
Which basically confirmed it.
—
At your next hangout a few days later, Daniela was still pretending to be annoyed.
Even though she showed up at your house wearing the hoodie she stole from you.
“I’m still mad,” she announced immediately.
“You say that every five minutes.”
“Because you deserve it.”
You grinned slightly. “Okay. Close your eyes.”
She looked suspicious instantly.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Are you plotting against me?”
“Yes.”
Daniela gasped dramatically before finally closing her eyes.
You reached into your hoodie pocket carefully.
“Okay,” you said softly. “Open them.”
Daniela looked down.
And froze.
Two handmade bracelets rested in your palm.
One bracelet read:
belongs to Daniela
And the other:
only Y/N’s
For a second, Daniela completely forgot how to speak.
“You made these?” she asked quietly.
You nodded nervously. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t get mad at girls talking to me anymore if everybody knew I belonged to you.”
Daniela’s face instantly turned red.
“Shut up.”
“But do you like them?”
Instead of answering, she grabbed the bracelet that said only Y/N’s and immediately slid it onto her wrist.
Then she held the other bracelet out toward you.
“Well?” she mumbled shyly.
You smiled and let her put it on you.
Her fingers lingered around your wrist for an extra second.
Then she looked at your matching bracelets and smiled so brightly it made your chest hurt.
“There,” she said proudly. “Now everybody knows.”
“Knows what?”
Daniela rolled her eyes dramatically.
“That you’re mine obviously.”
And honestly?
You didn’t mind that at all.
JENNIFER'S BODY // (2009) — dir. karyn kusama
i wish i was needy
MANON ☆ Via you.studiola/IG
“She’s Pretty”
Yonna Jay x mascreader
Summary: Y/n a well know steamer who is apart of AMP hosts a party with her members. During the party a pretty girl catches her attention. What happens when her clip goes viral?
The AMP house was louder than usual.
Music blasted through the backyard speakers, colorful lights reflected across the pool water, and almost every corner of the mansion was filled with streamers, influencers, athletes, and friends laughing over each other.
The chat on your stream was moving so fast it was almost impossible to read.
“Bro turn the camera around!”
“WHO ALL THERE???”
“Y/N WHERE’S KAI???”
“AMP PARTY W”
You laughed, adjusting the expensive chain resting over your black compression shirt while walking through the crowded backyard.
“As y’all can see,” you said into the stream camera, “AMP decided to throw the greatest party of all time.”
“YOU decided,” Fanum yelled from somewhere behind you.
“That’s true,” you admitted proudly.
Chat spammed laughing emojis instantly.
Being one of the biggest streamers in AMP came with nonstop attention. Everywhere you walked tonight, people stopped you to talk, joke around, or appear on stream for a few seconds.
But eventually, after greeting another group of creators, your attention drifted toward the pool area.
And that’s when you saw her.
For a second, the noise around you faded into the background.
A girl stood near the edge of the pool talking to a few people, wearing baggy jeans and a cropped hoodie despite the warm weather. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and every time she laughed, her entire face lit up.
Pretty wasn’t even the right word.
She was stunning.
Without realizing it, you stared a little too long.
Chat noticed immediately.
“AYOOOOOO”
“WHY YOU GET QUIET???”
“WHO YOU LOOKING AT?”
Your eyes widened slightly before you smirked.
“Not gonna lie,” you muttered casually, “there’s a beautiful girl over there by the pool.”
The chat EXPLODED.
“CAMERA NOW”
“WHO IS IT???”
“RIZZ HER UP”
“GO TALK TO HER”
You scoffed, immediately shaking your head.
“Absolutely not.”
“WHY NOT???”
“Because,” you said, lowering your voice dramatically, “she probably straight.”
Chat spammed crying emojis.
“And she look busy,” you added quickly. “I’m not bothering her.”
“You scared.”
“I am NOT scared.”
“You folded before speaking.”
“I hate y’all.”
Laughing, you turned the camera back toward the party, trying to ignore the fact that your eyes kept drifting back toward the girl near the pool.
About an hour later, the party somehow got even louder.
Music echoed through the house while you, Kai Cenat, Duke Dennis, and Fanum were yelling lyrics into invisible microphones in the middle of the living room.
Nobody was singing correctly.
Nobody cared.
Your stream loved it.
“AMP GOT NO VOCALS 😭”
“Y/N THINK SHE ON TOUR”
“FANUM OFF BEAT”
You laughed so hard your stomach hurt while Fanum dramatically shoved your shoulder.
“Move before I cook you on stream,” he said.
“You couldn’t cook cereal.”
“Watch your mouth.”
Then he pushed you again.
Harder this time.
“BRO—”
You stumbled backward instantly, bumping directly into someone.
“Oh shit—my bad,” you said quickly, turning around.
And immediately froze.
It was her.
The pretty girl from the pool.
Up close, she somehow looked even prettier
Her glossy lips parted slightly in surprise before she smiled.
And wow.
That smile was dangerous.
“It’s okay,” she laughed softly. “You didn’t die, so we’re good.”
Your brain completely short-circuited for half a second.
Chat noticed immediately.
“OH MY GODDDDD”
“THATS THE GIRL”
“Y/N STUTTERING”
You recovered quickly, grinning.
“Nah, Fanum trying to assassinate me on live.”
“I heard,” she said, glancing toward the loud group behind you.
“You got a name?” you asked before you could overthink it.
“Yonna Jay.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly in recognition.
“Wait—you’re Yonna?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh nah, chat gonna cook me for not recognizing you immediately.”
She laughed again.
“And you’re Y/N.”
“You know me?”
“You’re literally everywhere.”
Your chat practically combusted.
“SHE KNOW HER”
“OH THIS CHEMISTRY CRAZY”
“THE TENSION????”
You tried ignoring them while Yonna looked toward your phone curiously.
“You streaming right now?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Lemme see.”
Before you could stop her, she leaned closer toward the camera.
The chat moved so fast it looked broken.
“YONNAAAA”
“THEY LOOK GOOD TOGETHER WTF”
“ITS HAPPENING,”
Yonna blinked at the screen before laughing.
“They’re kinda insane.”
“Kinda?” you repeated. “This the calm version.
“Damn.”
You both laughed at the same time.
And somehow, the conversation just… flowed after that.
Easy.
Natural.
You talked near the kitchen for almost thirty minutes straight — about streaming, annoying chats, weird collaborations, favorite games, AMP stories, and how exhausting content creation could get sometimes.
Every now and then, your eyes caught hers for a little too long.
And every single time, she smiled.
By now both chats were losing their minds.
“THE FLIRTING CRAZY”
“Y/N GOT HEART EYES”
“YONNA BLUSHINGGG”
At one point, Kai walked past and stared between both of you dramatically.
“Oh this getting clipped immediately,” he announced before leaving.
“Get out,” you yelled.
Yonna laughed so hard she almost bent over.
“You AMP members are actually ridiculous.”
“You haven’t even seen the worst yet.”
“Scary.”
Eventually the conversation shifted toward streaming ideas.
“We should collab sometime,” Yonna suggested casually.
Your heart almost stopped.
“Oh word?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I think we’d be entertaining.”
Chat spammed:
“W RIZZ”
“GET THE NUMBER”
“DONT FUMBLE”
You tried keeping your composure.
“Bet. I’m down.”
“Cool,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Put your number in.”
Your chat started screaming in all caps as you took her phone.
The entire interaction felt weirdly unreal.
Especially when your fingers brushed for a second handing the phone back.
Neither of you acknowledged it.
But both of you smiled afterward.
The party ended around 3 a.m.
By the time you finally got upstairs and ended stream, your face hurt from smiling.
Which was embarrassing.
Very embarrassing.
You flopped onto your bed dramatically, staring at the ceiling.
Then immediately grabbed your phone to see social media already exploding with clips.
“Y/N FOLDING OVER YONNA FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT”
“NEW STREAMER DUO???”
“THE CHEMISTRY INSANE”
You buried your face into your pillow.
“Chat never letting this go,” you groaned.
The next afternoon, you went live again.
And the SECOND your stream started, chat attacked.
“WHERE YONNA”
“POOL GIRL UPDATE”
“YOU IN LOVEEE”
You shook your head immediately.
“Y’all are so dramatic.”
“WHO WAS SHE???”
You tried holding back your smile.
“The girl from yesterday was Yonna.”
The chat exploded instantly.
“WE KNEW IT”
“OH MY GODDDD”
“Y/N BEEN CRUSHING”
You leaned back in your chair, laughing nervously.
“Okay but listen—”
“No excuses.”
“She IS pretty though,” you admitted finally.
That sentence alone sent the internet into complete chaos.
Clips spread everywhere within an hour.
And unfortunately for you…
Yonna saw them.
You were mid-game when your phone buzzed beside your keyboard.
You glanced down casually.
Then froze.
Yonna 🤍
Your chat noticed immediately.
“WHY YOU SMILING LIKE THAT”
“WHO TEXTED”
You ignored them quickly, opening the message.
And immediately choking on your own water.
Yonna:
so you think i’m pretty?
Your face instantly got hot.
Chat started screaming because they could visibly see you panicking.
“NAHHHHH”
“ITS HER ISNT IT”
“Y/N BLUSHING”
You covered your face with one hand while staring at the message like it personally attacked you.
Then another text came in.
Yonna:
you got real shy all of a sudden 😭
A slow grin spread across your face before you finally typed back.
You:
thought you already knew that
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Then:
Yonna:
good
cause i think you’re pretty too
The entire room suddenly felt too warm.
And judging by the way your smile refused to disappear for the rest of the stream…
Your chat definitely knew something happened.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Always You
Manon x Rapper!masc!G!P!reader
Summary — Everyone online seemed to think that you were Manon’s girlfriend. And sometime down the line—she started to wonder what it would be like to be loved by you.
Content Warnings — A tad bit of angst but ends with comfort, hopelessly in love reader, smut with plot (18+), dom Manon, inexperienced reader, friends to lovers, voyeurism, praise kink, overstimulation kink, choking, jealous Manon, reader is the soft masc who wears makeup and stuff like that, Manon likes being called Mami <3
Authors Note — I have so many ideas in my head for her and just can’t help but write as many as I can think of. I love this woman and need that so badly. I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY MANON MY LOVE !!!
This “____,” indicates your name. No Y/n.
—
There was music blasting throughout the hotel suite room that the girls were sharing tonight, Manon, Daniela and Lara dancing however they wanted. They were currently on a Weverse live which was always one of those chaotic times that their fans loved. It was Lara the first to sit back down, Daniela and Manon still behind her dancing their hearts out. They were doing all kinds of funny things, singing songs, dancing to random music, playfully hitting each other when the other didn’t agree to something. It was a funny sight to see, one that would be all over TikTok.
Lara was reading all the comments, her fingers threading through her hair and her face a little close to the camera to see what they were saying. And of course they were talking about ____, they always did when Manon was in the live.
____’slover : Where is ____?!?!?!
Manonspeanutbutter : Manon you look so good!!
Daniwanny : I wonder if ____ is in the live?
Laraswettshirt : Lara just one chance please!
____’sbiggestfan : Tell ____ to drop a album!
Lara’s eyes scanned as many comments as she could, her voice breaking the chaotic dancing once she said, “They want to know where ____ is, Manon.” That made Manon instantly stop dancing, Daniela as well, both girls taking their spots beside Lara and reading the comments to see that a lot of people were in fact asking about her. Daniela and Lara both saw the way Manon practically lit up, Lara turning to Manon to see her practically unfolding right before their very eyes. To think anyone could make Manon fold was beyond belief, because she was the one that usually made other people do that.
quite literally
