#first date stories

[sosuigeneris]

What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

touchwood, never been on truly bad dates. But this one really annoying one was when a guy asked me out for dinner, I said yes, we went to a nice place.

he seemed sweet, was half French and half god knows what, and I thought, what the heck, why not.

but. oh. My. God.

He. Would. Not. Stop. Talking.

he would ask me a question, before I could even reply - HE would answer the question with what HE thought was the answer.

Him: you’re from India, right? What was growing up there like?

me: *thinks for a second, opens my mouth to answer* I -

him: I’ve heard it must be like this and that and I think growing up in India must be -

I literally couldn’t get a word in for hours. I tolerated that bullshit for that long because I was young and too polite and awkward to say that’s enough, drop me home lol. When the date finally ended and he dropped me back home, I swore to never see him again.

He was chivalrous though - picked and dropped me home, paid the bill. Maybe he was nervous and couldn’t stop rambling but it was really a waste of time.

[inbabylontheywept]

the house i grew up in was a little bit of a fixer upper. for the first 19 years, my dad just sort of slowly fixed it, but pretty early on in college, he came into a large amount of cash and decided to just do the whole thing at once. so he rented a different house for like, 2 months that was just a block down from us, and then got a bunch of contractors to fix original house ASAP. it was kind of crazy, but it compressed many years of work into like, three months.

the sitting in a new house for three months was actually pretty fun. and i shouldnt really complain at all (staying at home while in college is a sweet deal)

but.

but. my parents are fairly hard of hearing, and their bedroom in the old house was in the furthest possible annex from everyone else. wheras in the rental it was just in the middle of the house. so without going into details, i was extremely aware that my parents were having sex like, eight times a day. my dad had just retired and i guess they were celebrating, which is great i guess, having parents that really like each other is way better than the alternative, but also, it did make me envy their deafness. i kept headphones on for so long that year i got literal ear calluses.

at the same time, the house my buddy from the shoe incident grew up in flooded. turbo flooded. they burst like, two pipes at once and the damage was so severe they had to redo all the flooring and all the drywall. his family actually had homeowners insurance, which is either incredible or suspicious for a family that used the drained pool in their backyard to store rusty scrap metal. so insurance was handling the work, but in the meantime, they were crammed into a very small hotel room space. we did the math on it then, it averaged about 80 square feet a person.

so one day i got home, and i was chilling, and then six rolled around, and apparently six o'clock was sex o'clock because my parents decided to flex their cardio. i grabbed my headphones and prayed that god would do for me what he did for beethoven, but that failed to work, and then seven rolled around and my parents were still at it, which again, very impressive, but was pushing me to swap out judas for mozart in those prayers. there's a definitive point where you stop praying to be deaf and instead pray that god could take you to a nice field and pop you like a gore-balloon.

i was about five minutes away from that point when my friend called me and basically said i have been stuck in a 500 square foot space with 6 people and i didn't have many marbles to start but what few i had are gone. please. if we are friends, if we were ever friends, take me out of here just for a moment.

and i was still pretty mad at him, but i had pity on the poor guy. also helped that i was desperate to leave the house. so i drove the chickenshitmobile to the hotel and i picked him up, and then we did our normal hangout activity, which was go to food city and buy produce. his normal house was, on a good day, nasty, and his backyard was, as i stated before, mostly used to store mosquito larvae and rusty metal, so what we'd always done before was just walk to the grocery store a half block away and leer at vegetables.

so we did that and it was like old times again. they had some radishes that were expired, so i could buy like, literally an entire grocery bag of them for about $5. so i did. i really like radishes. he got a coconut because he liked fruit and beating things with hammers.

which probably would've been great except we didn't have a hammer, so instead we spent about 30 minutes stomping itike it owed us money. when it finally cracked we cheered like we just got the winning touchball at the superdome and then he ate some of the flesh, and i ate some of the radishes, and we admired the black, starless sky of the city before i took him back to his hotel room.

and then we got pulled over.

i forgot to turn my lights on because the street all around the food city was ludicrously well lit. so it went from being pretty bright, to pretty bright and flashy, then i pulled into a parking lot and a cop came to ask us for IDs which is where everything went to shit:

i’d forgotten my license at home. 

the cop was was actually kind of chill about it - he said he could get by with just an address. except i did not know my address. i hadn't memorized the new one yet. so i told the cop, my house is getting remodeled, i don't know my address right now. and then he went to my friend, and my friend said the exact same thing. house getting remodeled, staying somewhere else, no address, sowwwwwwy.

now the cop genuinely didn't know what to do. he went back to his car, and i was stressed that i was about to get into HUGE trouble so i started eating the radishes and my buddy started eating more of his coconut, and we actually managed to eat like a quarter of both before the cop came back. we ate enough produce that he could smell something weird in the air, and he asked what the smell was, and i said radishes, and my buddy said coconut, and the cop said which, and then we produced a large bag of droopy radishes and an absolutely brutalized coconut, and the cop was just like

so my buddy tried explaining how he was sharing a 500 square foot apartment with 6 people and wanted a fruit he could fight with power tools, and i tried explaining how i'd actually tried buying my parents like, board games and puzzles and stuff but nothing worked - the only thing my parents seemed to like doing right now was each other, and we both went on long enough and pathetically enough that the cop eventually went:

ok. stop.

and we stopped.

and he said do you know why i pulled you over?

and i said, because of my headlights, and my friend (who is hispanic) and the cop both looked at me like like i was the dumbest person in the entire world. and then the cop said no. that's why i'm allowed to pull you over. i checked your car because this neighborhood has a terrible sex trafficking problem, and i pull over every car i can to make sure no one is buying or selling sex. and you two are obviously doing neither. now i could give you, like, four tickets right now, but that would do nothing to make this area safer, so just turn your lights on, go home, drive safe, and try to be less stupid in the future.

and i said okay but i was thinking, you know, damn, this is just how i live man, i don't have a hidden third gear i can shift into. people can't just get smarter because it would be convenient. it's always convenient to be smart. i am literally trying my best.

but i didn't say anything because i was, slowly, learning how to filter what i said. instead i nodded and the cop left then i dropped my buddy off, and the last thing he said was said he owed me for responding to his SOS. I said he owed me for a lot of things, and he agreed that was true. then i drove home with my lights on, 5 under the speed limit, and arrived to a peaceful quiet home. I could’ve wept with relief but instead I went to bed.

the relief was short lived. i was woken up at 6 am by my parents. i swore, and then i prayed, and when i did not explode, i swore again. then i got up to make breakfast before my first class.

[egophiliac]

Your first initial impressions of any Twst character vs your current feelings about them?

honestly, my perception of pretty much every character went through some metamorphosis of "this guy looks like a jerk" to "oh, he's a stupid jerk? now hold on." it's all about that balancing act between a dark brooding asshole and a dark brooding asshole who is also totally ridiculous, and it really does make ALL the difference.

perhaps most ironically, I've mentioned before that I was absolutely not into the Diasomnias at first, because the impression the website gave pre-release was somehow even less favorable than for everyone else and I was mad at Lilia for getting my hopes up for a token girl). and then we got their stories and, well, I kind of just haven't stopped thinking about them since. 🤷

also, I went in thinking that Crowley was going to be. y'know. competent at his job. a helpful guide. a mysterious yet caring mentor figure, a fitting leader for this band of delicate young magic waifs with their fancy little magic outfits and their perfect, perfect hair. I've never been so glad to be wrong.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My beloved @aorryn47 and I met on a dating site. They were one of my top personality matches. Unbeknownst to me Richard helped them game the system to get really high matches. We chatted for a bit and somehow ended up talking about laundry. I admitted that I smell test my shirts and could go a really long time between washes because I didn’t really sweat. This was a bad thing actually, and I sweat now, don’t worry.

They then abruptly stopped talking to me. I was like. :( oh. I’m a gross lil guy, I didn’t think it was that weird but maybe I should wash my clothes more even if they don’t smell. I continued on with my dating escapades.

Then about a week and a half later they were like, “Hey, I hate talking on here, do you just want to meet up?”

I agreed to coffee but somehow assumed that meant breakfast. This would lead to a contentious years long debate that I lost about my assumption that coffee meant breakfast. My beloved generously ordered soup so I wasn’t eating alone. I showed up half an hour early because it was a new location and I get anxious about being late.

I waited in my car, reading a bit to pass the time. After a while I stepped out to head inside. The car that had been parked next to me pretty much the whole time I’d be waiting also opened, and there was my beloved. Equally early.

I felt like that was a pretty good sign.

I generally just chatter when I meet people and they liked not having to fill the silence. I talked about finding blood on showroom mattresses and they told me about being an acupuncture student.

By the time I had to leave to meet an exterminator at my place I knew I’d like to spend more time with them. So I invited them over for board games while we waited for someone to come deal with my ant problem. They agreed.

When they got to my place I wanted them to meet my cat. Leeloo is an oddball and one thing that consistently makes her like visitors is if they sit on the bed. So I ushered my beloved to the bedroom and urged them to sit on the bed so Leeloo would come up and be friendly.

I would learn later that this was viewed as a potential way to put the moves on them which flabbergasted me. I just wanted my cat to say hi, which she did. But when I write the words I asked someone on a first date to sit on my bed to meet my cat I do hear how it sounds.

[pedroscurls]

the first date (one-shot)

summary: hugh takes you out for your first date. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 1.2k warnings/tags: fluff, implied age gap (reader is 30, hugh is 55), teasing, brief sexual tension, brief jealous!hugh, no use of y/n. a/n: shout out to this anon for this request! i had so much fun writing this and tbh, it's the only way i can live out my fantasies lol 🙂‍↕️ as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

An hour into your date with Hugh and you can’t help but notice the way he’s looking at you from the rim of his glass. There had been an instant attraction you felt towards each other and this first date so far had been a dream. The age gap was a topic of conversation before you agreed on this date. You didn’t see a problem with the fact that he was old enough to be your father, but Hugh – well, it had taken quite a while for him to warm up to the idea of taking you out. 

He had tried to keep his distance, to be respectful, but after hearing you go on and on about a disaster of a date with another man, Hugh couldn’t hide his feelings for you anymore. The jealousy that he felt in the pit of his stomach lingered until he finally blurted out that he wanted to take you out on a real date. 

You were surprised, uncertain if he was just saying that because he felt bad or if he really did feel the same way you did. But you never asked. Instead, you agreed on going on a date with Hugh. 

And now, from the way he’s looking at you, you know that the feelings you have for him aren't just one-sided. You both still have to maintain some boundary, especially with Hugh being so well known in the public eye. Even after his divorce, he had been careful about who he wanted to be seen with. 

But with you? Well, with you, he didn’t care. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you finally ask him, brow arching upwards. 

“Like what?” 

“You know what.”

“I don’t,” he grins, setting his glass back down on the table. “Are you having a good time?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “The best time, actually. Who knew these are what dates are supposed to be like?” 

Hugh laughs quietly and leans back against his seat, staring at you from across the small table. When he had picked you up that evening, you took his breath away. The black mid-length dress you were wearing clung to every curve – it was modest and elegant, but when you walked, the front side split showcased your leg and all he wanted to do was run his hands along you. 

Even now, Hugh can’t help but glance down at the exposed skin on your upper thigh when you cross your leg over the other. In the dim lighting, Hugh can see you so clearly. No one else in this restaurant mattered, the sound of chatter fading in the background until all he could focus on was you. 

“You’ve been going out with boys,” Hugh teases. “They don’t know a thing about taking a woman out on a proper date.” 

You roll your eyes. “Psh, boys,” you repeat. “At least the night ended with–”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence,” he growls. Hugh moves his seat next to yours as he drapes his arm on the back of your chair until he’s leaning into your personal space. He shuts his eyes and brushes his nose against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo mixed in with your perfume. 

“Why not?” you ask teasingly, heart racing.

“Because I don’t wanna hear about it.” Hugh whispers, voice low and so dangerously close to your ear. “Besides, I doubt those boys treated you right.”

“How would you know, hm?” 

“Let me guess,” he continues, the hand on the back of your chair slowly moving to graze your upper arm. “Did you even get to come, baby? With those boys, did they make sure you were taken care of first?”

You feel the heat settle between your legs and you shift in your seat at his words. “I– uh…”

“You what?” Hugh leans in, brushes his lips against your earlobe. “Tell me. If your dates were always so shitty, did you at least get to come?” 

“Yes,” you lie. 

Hugh pulls away as if he can sense the dishonesty in your voice. He looks down at you, glancing between your eyes and down to your lips and back up. Then, he just grins and it irks you because you know that he caught onto your lie. And he’s fucking smug about it too. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you tell him, bringing your hand up to tuck your hair away from your face and behind your ear. You clear your throat, leaning slightly back against the seat as you suddenly feel hot. Under Hugh’s gaze, you can feel the tension radiating between the both of you. Lingering in the air. 

“What a shame,” he ignores you. “Shitty dates and an even shittier way to end your nights.” 

“I manage just fine, thank you very much.” 

“Oh yeah? And how’s that?” 

You lift your hand and wiggle your fingers in a suggestive manner. You see his eyes narrow down at you and you know what he’s thinking, know where his mind had drifted off to. And now, it’s your turn to be smug. 

“Exactly,” you tell him. “Now, can we go and get dessert?” 

Hugh grins and then nods in your direction. “Whatever you want, baby.”

—

“It’s cold outside, I’ve given you my jacket, and now you’re eating ice cream,” Hugh points out, walking alongside you. 

You nod and grin up at him, gently nudging him with your shoulder. You feel warm and safe in his jacket and even though it’s well into nighttime, it feels oddly calming to walk the park without any distractions, illuminated by the city’s lights. 

“There is always a time for ice cream,” you giggle. 

Hugh smiles to himself and then wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side as you both continue walking. He kisses the crown of your head as he thinks to himself. Hugh likes you, a lot, and your presence alone puts him at ease. 

“Want some?” you ask, lifting the small plastic spoon up in his direction. You’re gazing up at him with a hopeful glint in your eye and Hugh just smiles. He leans in and takes the spoonful of vanilla ice cream in his mouth and pulls away, seeing your eyes gaze down at his lips. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

You and Hugh continue to walk until you both hear the sound of quiet music in the park. You both walk towards it, noticing a man playing the guitar. You can see his eyes widen when he registers that you’re with Hugh Jackman, but Hugh just nods in his direction, drops some money in the guitar case before he turns his attention to you. 

“What?” you ask, tossing the small empty cup of ice cream at a nearby trash can. 

“Dance with me?” He extends a hand out for you and smiles in your direction. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely…” you take his hand and feel him pull you to him. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as he brings your joined hands to his chest, his free hand moving to rest on your lower back. Both of you sway to the sound of the music, eyes locked with each other’s, and it feels like it’s only the two of you in this world. 

Hugh leans in, resting his forehead against yours as he keeps his eyes locked with yours. “It’s been the best night,” he whispers. 

“Does it have to end?” you ask hesitantly. 

You can see the recognition flicker in his eyes, the familiarity of what you’re implying. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Take me back to your place?” 

“I thought you’d never ask, baby," he grins and leans in to press his lips against yours for the first time that night.

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[alexloldog]

happy birthday, bertie wooster!

[katabay]

mother, she killed me. father, he ate me. and my dear sister, she gathered all my bones--

ngl, I don't remember how I ended up reading the juniper tree, but after I did, I absolutely went and read all the other ones in the same narrative pattern. let's go cannibalism!!! three cheers for the horror of knowing!!!

so! once again, I'm thinking about antigone!! probably thinking about pelops too, in some kind of way, but mostly antigone.

Sophocles’ Antigone (trans. Ruth Fainlight & Robert J. Littman)

& ofc, Catullus 101 (trans. Anne Carson) :)

[seiwas]

thinking of kind of first meet with atsumu but he’s had the biggest crush on you from being a friend of a friend and the first time he talks to you he’s fumbling and stuttering and he doesn’t know what to say because you’re smiling at him prettier than he could have ever even imagined, and you’re saying his name, and did it always sound this good? did his ma name him atsumu because she knew, just like she always does, that you’d be saying it like that?

[sen-ya]

I don’t have a twitter but @blackyote sent me this tweet from @naturecalls111 and I simply had to

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[hadesisqueer]

I like how Violet is so used to having dramatic ass children that Francesca marrying with no drama was too odd to her lmao. And thinking about how her story will unfold is actually kinda hilarious because it's gonna be like:

Violet: Well, that's it. John is a very good man and Francesca is comfortable and happy with her choice and if this is what she truly wants, it's all that matters💜

Violet: Also, it's kinda refreshing to finally have a normal child that doesn't do any dramatic or scandalous shit.

Francesca a few seasons later after her husband passes: *fucks and falls in love with her husband's cousin -who is a woman-*

Violet:

Violet: Honestly, I should've seen this coming, none of my children will actually ever be normal.

[echofades]

I love you, and us, and I wanted to celebrate our awesomeness as a couple. NCIS: HAWAI'I | 2x20: NIGHTWATCH TWO

[blmpff]

✨️ GAGAOOLALA AWARDS 2023 WINNERS ✨️

19.12.23

[rexanesolo]

Adventures in Clairune is out!

If you want to:

Bully a dragon lord

Flirt with an elf

Trust an assassin

And most importantly romance them!! With perks such as:

he/she/they option for players

6 endings (good and bad for each love interest)

A 1 hour playtime (roughly)

Pretty art style & good music

FREEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

So go play my first vn! (I was inspired by the arcana and y'all might like this too :3)

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 4 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. 3.4k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The reality of everything started to settle in. I’d been so caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, from surprise to anger to cautious reconciliation, that I hadn’t fully considered what came next.

Sooner or later, I’d have to tell Matt my name. My real name.

The thought sent a ripple of unease through me. Would it change things between us? Up until now, our friendship—our whatever-this-was—had existed in this weird, nickname-protected bubble. “Manhattan” and “San Diego” were fun, safe, and detached from the weight of real identities. Stripping that away felt… vulnerable.

What if things got awkward? What if he thought less of me somehow? What if putting a name to who I was made everything feel too serious?

I chewed on my lip, glancing at my phone. I stared at the screen for what felt like forever, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally, I typed a single word and hit send.

Thursday, May 30, 2024 Today, 9:55AM ME: Y/N.

The message sent, and I felt my pulse quicken. Before I could overthink it, I followed up with another.

ME: Y/N Y/L/N.

I stared at the messages, anxiety bubbling up in my chest. Would he say anything? Would it even matter to him?

A few seconds passed, then my phone buzzed.

MATT: Well, Y/N Y/L/N… it’s nice to finally meet you. 😊

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, staring at his response. It was simple—lighthearted, even—but it melted away some of the tension I’d been carrying since I pressed send.

ME: You don’t think it’s weird? MATT: What? Knowing your name? Definitely not. ME: It changes everything, doesn’t it? MATT: Only in the best way.

His words made me pause. I hadn’t expected him to say that, and the knot of worry in my chest started to loosen.

MATT: I don’t know what you thought would happen, but it’s not like I suddenly see you differently. MATT: You’re still San Diego to me. Just now I can call you Y/N and actually picture you saying, “Hi, Matt.”

I laughed softly, earning a curious glance from my seatmate. I turned back to my phone.

ME: I’ll have you know I say “Hi, Manhattan” with way more charm.

His reply was instant.

MATT: Prove it.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

The bus pulled into the airport terminal, the cityscape shrinking behind us as we piled off to grab our bags. The reality of leaving New York hit me all over again. As much as I’d needed this trip to end, the thought of putting an ocean of distance between us now felt strange.

As I waited for my bag to come off the bus, my phone buzzed again.

MATT: Hey, Y/N. MATT: I mean it. I’m glad you told me.

Something about seeing my name next to his words gave me a strange, fluttery feeling.

ME: I’m glad I did too. MATT: So, now that I finally know your name, does this mean I don’t have to call you San Diego anymore? ME: I mean, you could stop… but wouldn’t that ruin the fun? MATT: You make a good point. Besides, I’ve gotten kind of attached to it.

I smiled at his response, shifting my bag on my shoulder as we filed into the terminal.

ME: So I’m still San Diego, huh? MATT: Always.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen. After all this, it still felt surreal—like I’d been holding my breath for weeks, and now that the truth was out, I wasn’t sure what to do next. But Matt’s steady, easy replies reminded me why I trusted him in the first place.

ME: for the record, you’re still Manhattan. MATT: I’d be offended if I wasn’t.

I laughed softly to myself, earning a curious glance from my friend as we stopped at the check-in line.

ME: You’re taking this all surprisingly well, you know. MATT: What can I say? I’m full of surprises. 😉 ME: You are a lot more chill than I expected for someone with your reputation. MATT: Oh? What were you expecting? A cocky NHL player? ME: Something like that.

I could practically hear his laugh through the phone when his reply came.

MATT: Guess I’ll have to work on being less humble.

The group started moving forward, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. But even as I focused on getting through security, I couldn’t stop the small, steady smile on my face.

For the first time since I’d landed in New York, I felt like I wasn’t just trying to keep up with the chaos. Instead, I was leaving with something new—something unexpected, but maybe exactly what I needed.

As we settled into the airport lounge, I scrolled absentmindedly through my phone, rereading Matt’s last message and trying not to smile too much. My friend plopped down beside me with a sigh, setting her carry-on bag at her feet. She didn’t say anything at first, but then she turned to me with a pointed look, her arms crossed.

“Okay, girl, what has been happening?” she said, her tone dripping with exasperation. “Your phone has sent you into about 30 different mood swings this weekend, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you giggling at texts for however long. Spill.”

I blinked at her, caught off guard. “What? Nothing’s happening.”

“Don’t even try it,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been glued to your phone since we landed, and I know that dopey little smile you get when you’re texting someone. It’s not just random, so don’t even pretend it’s about homework or whatever.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but her stare told me I wasn’t getting out of this. Sighing, I tucked my phone into my pocket and leaned back in my seat. “Fine. But just—promise you won’t freak out, okay?”

“Why would I freak out?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well…” I hesitated, picking at the edge of my sleeve. “There’s this guy I’ve been talking to. For a while, actually.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward like she was ready to pounce on every word. “Oh my god. Keep going. Who is he? Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know him,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “We met online a few months ago. He’s…different. In a good way. Really sweet, really funny. Athletic- Big fighter. We just…clicked, I guess.”

She stared at me for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wait. Is this why you’ve been weird about your phone this whole time? Are you like—are you falling for him?”

“What? No!” I said, a little too loudly, earning a couple of glances from the people around us. “It’s not like that. We’re just—friends. Close friends.”

She smirked, not buying it for a second. “Right. Sure. And you’re giggling at his texts because…friendship.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You like him,” she teased, nudging my shoulder. “And it’s okay! I mean, if he’s as great as you’re making him sound, I say go for it.”

I hesitated, the weight of everything I wasn’t telling her pressing down on me. “It’s complicated,” I admitted finally. “There’s…a lot about his life that I didn’t know until recently. It’s been a little overwhelming, but he’s trying to make things right.”

“Overwhelming how?” she asked, her tone softening.

“Just—stuff I wasn’t expecting,” I said vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t push for more. “But I really do trust him. And I think…I think we’re figuring it out.”

Her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze my hand. “If he’s making you happy, that’s what matters. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too, okay?”

I nodded, grateful that she wasn’t prying any further. “Thanks,” I said quietly.

“Of course,” she said, sitting back in her chair. After a beat, though, her smirk returned. “So, do I get to see a picture of this mystery guy, or are you gonna keep me in suspense?”

“Not a chance,” I said, laughing despite myself.

“Ugh, fine,” she said, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “But just so you know, I’m rooting for you two.”

I smiled at her, my chest feeling a little lighter. Even if I couldn’t share the full truth, having someone in my corner still meant something.

The flight boarded without incident, and soon enough, we were cruising at altitude. I leaned against the window, watching clouds drift by like slow-moving waves. My friend was deeply engrossed in her e-reader, leaving me some space to think.

Despite our talk in the airport lounge, my mind was still tangled with everything that had happened this weekend. Meeting Matt—well, technically not meeting him—had turned my world sideways. For months, he’d been a name, a face, a voice on my phone. And now, knowing the full truth about who he was…it made everything feel real in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

I kept my phone in my bag this time, deciding to let the weight of the weekend settle in silence. I couldn’t shake the strange mix of anticipation and hesitation coursing through me. Everything between Matt and me had shifted, and while I didn’t regret it, I wasn’t entirely sure what came next.

Leaning back in my seat, I watched the clouds stretch endlessly outside the window, their stillness contrasting with my swirling thoughts. My friend eventually glanced over, nudging me gently.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft.

I nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She looked at me like she didn’t quite believe it but let it go, her attention returning to her e-reader.

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, and before I knew it, we were landing back in San Diego. As the wheels touched down and the cabin filled with the familiar sounds of people gathering their things, I finally pulled out my phone.

ME: Landed safely.

His reply came almost instantly.

MATT: Glad you didn’t get stuck. How was the flight? ME: Fine so far. My friend’s still giving me side-eye because I wouldn’t show her your picture. MATT: Why not? I’m very photogenic.

I laughed quietly, shaking my head.

ME: Because she’d figure out who you are in about 0.2 seconds, genius. MATT: Fair point. Can’t have you blowing my cover. MATT: (Also, now I’m wondering what you told her about me.) ME: Just that we’ve been friends for a while. Nothing too crazy. MATT: You didn’t tell her how charming I am? I’m offended. ME: Obviously not. I don’t want her stealing you. MATT: Oh, so I’m yours now?

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks warmed slightly at his teasing.

ME: Don’t push it, Manhattan.

The chat went quiet after that, and I rested my head back against the seat, letting my thoughts wander.

As strange as this weekend had been, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had changed something between us—for the better. Knowing who he really was hadn’t pushed me away. If anything, it had made me more curious about the person behind the nickname, the person who’d become such a big part of my life without me even realising it.

And maybe…just maybe, that was worth holding onto.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Two months passed in a blur, but Matt and I never lost touch. If anything, our conversations became more frequent. The texts ranged from playful teasing to long, thoughtful exchanges that stretched late into the night.

The dynamic between us felt natural, easy—but there was an undercurrent of something new now. A spark of anticipation I couldn’t quite ignore, like we were both waiting for something to happen.

One night, as I sat cross-legged on my bed, scrolling through TikTok to procrastinate on my homework, my phone buzzed.

Tuesday, July 9, 2024 Today, 4:17PM MATT: Big game tonight. Send me some good luck vibes or I’ll blame you if we lose.

I smirked, typing back.

ME: Wow, no pressure or anything. Good luck, though. Knock ‘em dead, #73. MATT: You really do your homework, huh? ME: You’ve only mentioned your jersey number, like, a thousand times. Hard to forget. MATT: Good. Means you’re paying attention. MATT: Seriously, though. This one’s big. ME: You’ll crush it. You always do.

There was a pause before his next text came through.

MATT: You have way too much faith in me, San Diego. ME: Somebody’s gotta keep you humble. MATT: That’s rich, coming from the person who called me a “big fighter” to her friend on a bus.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the memory.

ME: You’re never letting that go, are you? MATT: Never. It’s iconic.

I grinned, and before I could second-guess myself, I typed:

ME: Let me know how the game goes.

After the game, he did. It became a pattern—him updating me after games, sometimes venting about a loss or celebrating a win, always with his signature blend of humor and charm.

One night, as I lounged on my couch watching Netflix, he FaceTimed me out of the blue.

“Wow, bold,” I said as I answered, holding my phone up so he could see my raised brow.

“You’re the one who said to call if I needed to rant,” he shot back, flopping onto what looked like his hotel bed.

“Rough night?”

He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “We lost in overtime. It sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “Overtime losses are brutal.”

“See? This is why I call you. You get it.”

I laughed. “What, none of your teammates understand your pain?”

“They’re not nearly as nice to me as you are,” he teased, flashing a grin that made my stomach do a little flip.

“You should tell them to start a support group for overpaid, overhyped athletes,” I quipped, earning a mock gasp.

“Wow, okay. Remind me why I called you again?”

“You like the abuse.”

He laughed, and the sound was so warm and familiar that I couldn’t help but smile.

We talked for another half hour, the conversation meandering from hockey to his favorite restaurants in New York to a ridiculous story about his teammate locking himself out of their bus. By the time we hung up, I felt lighter, like I’d just spent an evening with an old friend.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

A few weeks later, the inevitable topic came up.

Wednesday, August 7, 2024 Today, 10;54AM MATT: You know, it’s kind of wild we’ve never actually met in person. ME: Yeah, well, blame geography. MATT: Or your stubborn refusal to visit New York. ME: My refusal? Pretty sure you’re the one who hasn’t set foot in California. MATT: Fair point. But guess what? ME: What? MATT: I might be able to change that.

I sat up a little straighter, my heart skipping.

ME: Oh? MATT: Ducks game in Anaheim next month. Thinking about extending the trip and finally seeing what all the hype is about. ME: The hype about what? California or me? MATT: Yes.

I laughed, my cheeks warming.

ME: Well, if you do, let me know. MATT: You’ll actually make time for me?

Matt and I continued our nightly texts and FaceTimes, our conversations slipping into an easy rhythm that made it hard to believe we’d never actually met in person. It felt like we’d known each other for years, but there was always this unspoken awareness hovering between us—something deeper, something waiting to shift.

One night, after a particularly exhausting day, I flopped onto my bed and propped my phone against a pillow. I was mid-scroll through Instagram when his FaceTime request came through.

“Hello, stranger,” I said, answering as I smoothed my hair self-consciously.

“Stranger? Don’t act like you haven’t been blowing up my phone all day,” Matt replied, his grin softening the mock accusation.

“Excuse me,” I shot back, raising a brow. “You’re the one who texted me six times about whether it was socially acceptable to eat ice cream for dinner.”

“And you never answered,” he said with a smirk. “I had to make the executive decision myself. Cookies and cream, if you’re wondering.”

“Bold choice.” I laughed, settling more comfortably against my pillows. “You’re such an athlete.”

“Don’t tell my nutritionist,” he quipped, then hesitated, his grin fading just slightly. “So, uh…big news.”

I tilted my head. “Oh? What’s up?”

“After the, uh, game in Anaheim, I have 2 weeks off” he said casually, though I could tell from the way he shifted that it wasn’t as casual as he was trying to make it seem.

“Oh, cool,” I replied, waiting to see where he was going with this.

“Yeah, and…I might stick around a couple of days after.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, check out the area. Grab coffee or something.”

My lips twitched. “Check out the area, huh?”

“Yeah.” His tone was light, but his eyes held a flicker of uncertainty. “I hear San Diego’s nice this time of year.”

“San Diego’s nice every time of year,” I teased.

“Well, then maybe you should show me around. Unless you’re too busy or something,” he added quickly, like he was trying to give me an out.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, pretending to mull it over. “I mean, you’re kind of a big deal. I wouldn’t want to blow your cover.”

He chuckled. “You’re not getting out of this that easily, Y/N. I’m serious. Let’s hang out.”

“Fine,” I relented with an exaggerated sigh. “But you’ll have to wear one of those cliché disguises. You know, baseball hat, oversized sunglasses, maybe a fake mustache.”

“A fake mustache?” he repeated, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying, Manhattan,” I said, smirking, “it’s either that or I’m going to start charging for all the selfies you’ll get asked for.”

“Wow, you’re really looking out for me,” he replied dryly.

“Always,” I said, matching his tone.

There was a brief pause, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “So, it’s a plan then?”

“Guess it is.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Over the next few days, Matt dropped increasingly unsubtle hints about his "extended trip."

Wednesday, August 21, 2024 Today, 1:40PM MATT: What’s the best coffee spot in San Diego? Asking for a friend. ME: For a friend, huh? MATT: Yep. Definitely not for me. ME: Nice try. But you’re going to have to trust me on this one. I’ve got a spot in mind. MATT: Should I be nervous? ME: Absolutely.

The closer we got to the date, the more I caught myself overthinking. He hadn’t called it a date, which was probably for the best. After all, we’d built this incredible friendship, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin it with unrealistic expectations.

But still, the idea of seeing him—of finally meeting him in person—made my heart race in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

The night before the game, he texted me.

Thursday, September 5, 2024 Today, 2:18PM MATT: Game day tomorrow. Nervous? ME: Are you? MATT: Always. But I’ve got good luck on my side. ME: Oh yeah? What’s your secret? MATT: You, obviously.

I stared at the screen, my stomach flipping.

ME: Smooth. MATT: You like it. ME: Maybe. MATT: Just make sure you’re free the day after. No backing out now. ME: Who said I’m backing out? MATT: Just covering my bases.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head.

The next evening, I watched his game from my couch, my nerves hitting harder than I expected. I hadn’t told anyone—not even my best friend—about Matt’s trip, and now it felt like this huge secret I was carrying.

He scored a goal in the second period, and I actually cheered out loud, startling my roommate.

“What’s with you?” she asked, raising a brow.

“Uh, nothing,” I said, my face heating up.

When the game ended in a win, I half-expected him to text me right away, but he didn’t. It wasn’t until almost midnight that my phone buzzed.

MATT: So, you still up? ME: Maybe. MATT: Coffee tomorrow? ME: Sure. MATT: Finally.

The next morning, I arrived at the coffee shop earlier than I needed to, nerves making it impossible to stay still. I checked my reflection in my phone camera for the hundredth time, then pretended to scroll through Instagram to keep my hands busy.

When the door finally opened and I saw Matt walk in, my breath caught. He was taller than I’d imagined, his broad frame filling the doorway, but the easy grin on his face was exactly the same.

“Hey, San Diego,” he said, stopping in front of me.

And for the first time in months, I felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. My voice steady despite the way my heart raced. “Hey, Manhattan.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

to be continued... hehehe

[adrienneleclerc]

Charles Leclerc Masterlist

All of my Charles Leclerc fanfics in one convenient location and hopefully all the links work. If not, look for the fanfic title in the masterlist tags

Mini series

TikTok Challenges

Drive Thru Test Fiancé Girlfriend Book Boyfriend Challenge

TikTok Pranks

Say It Back Can You Get Out? Wrong Name Pay For Dinner That’s Not My Name

Charles Leclerc x Single Mom

Meet and Greet First Date

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

The Happy Throuple Nobody Everybody Knows Family Meeting

One shots

Prince of Ferrari

Can You Be My Boyfriend?

A Cinderella Story

Meet the Family Part 2

Move to Miami

The “Affair”

That’s That Me Espresso

Missing Journal

Jealous

Attached at the Hip

Nerdy Glasses?

My Trainer’s Daughter

TikTok Gone Viral

Rumors

Model Behavior

Sizes

Ex Girlfriend

The 25 Year Old “Virgin”

Not Your Average WAG

Superstar

Grill The Boyfriend

World Tour

Headcanons

Emo Girlfriend