Stolen Dairy

"Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

Words: 392

a/n: Hey y'all this is my first time publishing my writing here so be sure to leave some feedback. This is being written at midnight because my body decided to be mean, so I'm sure I'll need it. This is for @omgrachwrites' 1k follower celebration, congratulations girlie!

You dug through Steve's dresser, trying not to make too much noise, though there was no reason to worry. You were the only one left in the tower; everyone else had gone on a mission and weren't expected back until the next evening. Your leg had been burned badly in an explosion during the last mission, keeping you benched.

It had taken you three hours to convince Steve that you would be fine on your own. The man was a mother hen. Eventually, with some gentle threatening from Natasha, he had agreed.

You now regretted encouraging him to go. Nightmares filled your sleep, waking you up drenched in a cold sweat. You missed Steve; he was a teddy bear and security blanket wrapped in one.

This led you to your current mission, stealing one of Steve's ridiculously comfortable shirts. Tight on Steve, they dwarfed you, making them perfect for sleeping in.

Finally, you found the shirt you were looking for. It was one of Steve's favorites, the one you had custom-made for him. The shirt was navy blue and read, "Just a kid from Brooklyn". Steve had grinned when he read it and now wore it constantly around the compound.

Smiling fondly at the memory, you slipped off your pajamas and replaced it with the shirt. You felt the tension in your body drip away as you realized it still smelled like him too. Contently, you crawled into the bed and fell asleep.

7 hours later, Steve hummed happily as he made his way to his room after the debriefing. The mission had taken much less time than anticipated, allowing him to spend the day with you. He reached his room and opened the door softly, expecting you to still be sleeping.

There you were, lying sprawled across the bed, hair a mess and mouth open. Steve quickly removed his clothing and got into bed, pulling you into him gently. You woke up immediately and promptly rolled over and kissed his cheek happily.

"You're back early," you remarked.

"Yeah intel overestimated the amount of agents they'd have and..." he answered before pausing and taking a look at you, "Is that my shirt?"

"You mean our shirt?"

"Oh now it's shared?" he asked, a smile on his lips.

"Yep, I'll draw up a custody agreement in the morning. Now, we're going to sleep."

Green paint

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: babysitting Morgan with Steve gets a little bit out of control.

Word count: 1,637

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

“The number for the hotel is this one, the number for the restaurant we’ll be at is here, and this is her physicians numb- Y/n are you even listening?” Pepper asks as she notices you staring off.

“Yeah you said the number for hotel, restaurant and the morgue is on this nice fancy piece of paper”.

“You’re hilarious you know?”

“I know, look Pep it’s not the first time I’ve had the pleasure of babysitting Carly so don’t worry”

“Who the hell is Carly?” Tony asks as he walks in with your boyfriend, Steve.

“Umm your daughter, Pep sorry to tell you this but your husbands losing his mind”

“Doll stop winding them up” Steve chuckles coming over to you.

“I can’t help it, anyways I say this in the most nicest way possible but you two leave, eat food that cost way more than my apartment and top it off by having mind blowing s-“

“Alright alright we’re leaving Jesus Christ” Pepper practically shouts.

Tony hands Pepper her coat and purse as he calls for Morgan to come and say goodbye.

“Be good and we love you” Pepper says kissing her daughters cheek.

“Who me or auntie Y/n?” Morgan asks with her eyebrow slightly raised.

“Both.” Tony laughs.

The moment the door closes Morgan grips your hand in hers and drags you to her play room, talking a mile a minute.

“-then we’ll play dress up and then we’ll play with my dolls and-“ 

“Morg slow down sweetie” you say chuckling at the six year old.

“-and we’ll have nuggets and fries and…where’s uncle Stevie?”

“I’m here sweetheart, I was getting your juice for you”. He says and sure enough he had a juice box and a drink for the two of you.

“Thanks uncle Stevie”

“You’re welcome, so what’s the plan tonight then girlies?”

As Morgan retells her plans to him you stand and watch as the six foot super solider holds a pink bunny teddy in his hands, getting ready to hold the elephant teddy as Morgan hands them to him. You couldn’t help but take your phone out of your pocket and snap a few photos of him.

“What are you doing pretty girl?” He asks you after being handed the elephant and now crocodile teddy.

“Oh nothing pretty boy” winking at him as his cheeks start to turn a little shade of red.

Playing dress ups were done after 30 minutes as Morgan got bored of it.

Then you three played doctors, it was your turn to be the patient. You only went to the pretend hospital with a really bad tummy ache and left with an amputated leg. Thanks to Doctor Morgan and her assistant Steve - I wouldn’t recommend going there, ever.

Playing with her dolls was over with pretty quickly as all the dolls were tired and needed a nap.

Steve left Morgan’s playroom - which looked more like a toy store - to make dinner for the three of you, leaving you and Morgan sitting on the very comfortable bean bags.

“Auntie Y/n can I ask you something?”

“Of course pudding”

“When will you and uncle Stevie have babies?“

Ah the good old question your asked constantly now you’ve been dating Steve for five years. Explaining to adults was easy, it mainly consists of you telling them to mind their own business - not necessarily that politely - but explaining it to a six year old? That’s new territory, she’s never asked it before.

“I’m not sure sweetheart” is all you can say.

“Do you like babies?”

“No”

“Why?”

“Because they’re smelly”

“I wasn’t smelly” she laughs.

“Morg you was the smelliest baby in the whole world!”

Her cheeks puffed out as the smile grew more and more “no I wasn’t”

“I’m not lying to you”

“Auntie Y/n, where do babies come from?”

Oh boy. This whole conversation was throwing you off.

“Aliens” you even winced at your own reply.

“Aliens?” She raises her eyebrow reminding you so much of her father.

“Yep. Aliens come and drop off babies to parents”

“How do they make them?”

This girl was killing you.

“Magic?”

“Magic.” She gives you a deadpan look as you nod.

The second you heard Steve call for you two, you practically ran out of the room.

During dinner Morgan told Steve all about where babies came from and how they were made, his eyes looked over at you and with a straight face you nodded, agreeing with the girl.

“Auntie Y/n uncle Stevie” Morgan’s voice trailed down the corridor.

“What’s up?” You asked as you walked down to where she was.

“It’s time to paint”.

“Oh sweetie I don’t think that’s a good idea” Steve says softly.

It wasn’t. The last time you three painted together things…kinda got a little out of hand. Paint was everywhere. All over the floor, walls and even the ceiling.

Tony and Pepper weren’t happy.

“But please uncle Stevie!”

“Maybe if we do damage control it won’t be as bad as last time?” You asked, the pleading in Morgan’s voice chipped away at your heart.

“Babe, we said that last time”

“It’s okay uncle Stevie. I’ll sit in the corner” you both watch as she walks over to the corner and sits down with a huff.

“I’m not giving in Y/n!”

“Nope neither am I…but she looks so sad”

“Alright fine! But the moment things get out of hand we put everything away okay!”

“Yes yes thank you uncle Stevie your the best”

Steve places a kiss to her forehead and watches as she goes to her paint stand, pulling tub and tub out. “I was talking to you too doll”.

“I’ll behave, scouts honour”.

The three of you had been painting for well over an hour, showing each other your paintings after you finished them.

You were adding the last little bit of detail to your latest masterpiece when you felt something splattering across your face.

“Was…that…what…I…think…it…is” looking up from your work to Steve and Morgan who both sit there trying to contain their laughter.

“I won’t ask again you two”

“It’s paint auntie Y/n” Morgan bursts out laughing.

“I’m sorry doll but she told me to do it”

“Yo-you threw paint at me? Steven!”

“Oh oh you’re in trouble” Morgan sings looking towards Steve.

“Babe, Morgan told me to d-“

You cut him off with flicking your brush at him, leaving pink splashes of paint on his face.

He actually had the audacity to looked shocked whilst you smirked.

Morgan’s laughter filled the whole room but she too falls victim when you and Steve flick paint at her.

All three of you come to a stand-off. Eyes bouncing from one another. Armed and ready with paint. Silently daring each other to be the first one to make a move.

Morgan’s the first one to attack.

Brushes were long gone as hands were going into the larger tubs so you can get your next victim easier.

The screams and laughter fills the whole penthouse.

You stalked towards Morgan who was laughing whilst pleading for you not to get her, you was about to reach out for her when her eyes went wide, bouncing from you and behind you. Her arms went out and she started muttering.

Deciding to look behind you, you see your ever so loving boyfriend smiling at you.

When you see his hands it becomes your turn for your eyes to open wide like saucers and you’re moving away from Morgan.

His hands are dripping in green paint.

"Do not touch me!" You speak lowly.

“I wasn’t”

“I mean it Steve do not touch me!”

“I wasn’t!”

“Back up. Now, Steve!”

Morgan stands there eyes still wide and in fact they somehow grow even more. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’s finding the whole situation funny, her aunt and uncle slowly moving around the room - her auntie trying to escape her uncle whilst he tries to catch her - at six years old she’s smart, she knows that if her uncle puts his green hands on her auntie it’s going to take her auntie forever to get it all off.

“I’m not doing anything baby!”

“Morgan…give me some more paint” Morgan listens and finally moves, going straight for the pink paint. “Thanks sweetie”.

“Babe you’re overreacting, I wasn’t going to do anything”

“Ov-overreacting? How dare you!”

Morgan watches as her favourite auntie and uncle move closer to each other now that Y/n had more paint to her hands. Even though she’s six years old she knows, she knows that after tonight she won’t be seeing the pair for a few weeks.

You and Steve were about to pounce on each other when you feel cold liquid drenching the pair of you.

Shocked you look to the side where Morgan stands with a grimace on her face. The now empty tub of green paint tightly held in her hands. 

Before anyone can say anything the door comes open and a scream breaks the silence.

Pepper.

“Oh my… I think I’m having a heart attack!”

The three of you had gotten so carried away with the battle you were in that you didn’t realise how much paint was getting everywhere.

It was so much worse than last time.

So much worse.

“That was so fun auntie and uncle, we should do it again next time”

You, Steve and Morgan are in different parts of the room. Scrubbing and cleaning up all the now dried paint off.

“There’s not going to be a next time” Tony’s voice says but looking around the room you don’t see him. “Top left corner” you could practically hear the eye roll he did.

And that’s when you see it. The camera.

“Back to work!”

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

Eddie: *sneaking in through Steve’s window*

Steve: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Eddie: I was with Robin?

Robin: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Joseph Quinn for Wonderland Magazine

Hello, Ro!!! 🌻🌻🌻

Okay so I suddenly notice my hair is long enough to nearly my waist

so can I have a fluff one that reader is not aware of her hair became long, she only notice the dryer time became longer🤣🤣🤣

And Steve notices, he choose some beautiful hair tie and learn how to braid hair from Thor, and maybe Tony host a party, and Steve volunteers to braid her hair and she suddenly noticed her hair been so long.

Hehe need some fluff and sweet from this site became too... ppl step into other's territory and say stuff rude. I am tired of this😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Anyway, wish you have a good dayy friend!!

Yeah, I wasn't on for the toxic sh*t that went down yesterday, but I had the privilege of my husband (yes, that guy) shoving that news in my face. I know he did it to provoke me, but not because of the actual news. It was to accentuate quite a few terrible things that don't have to do with what I truly hope is a happy couple.

So let's have some happy couple fluff, shall we?

"It's not even dry yet."

"Ok, then I gotta start getting ready right after work."

"Why do these ties keep breaking? Is the elastic old? What the hell?!"

Your face smacks the pillow, and Steve can see but you can't...apparently.

Your hair covers your shoulders like a blanket, gets trapped when you go to turn over, encircles the column of your neck like a lacy choker, and you haven't figured it out.

Sure, he doesn't understand what you mean by 'crispy ends' or 'arm fatigue' when you're standing in the bathroom, open-legged and practically panting from the effort to do your hair for the night, but he hears the huffs and the sighs. He can understand feeling like losing a battle with your body when you're trying your best. He remembers that.

So one day, he's caught staring at Thor's hair, and that doesn't go unnoticed.

"Sorry, my dear captain, but two beefy blond alphas would not make a good pairing. I am flattered though."

Steve snaps back. "What? No. It's just...your hair, the--" he wiggles his hand by his head "--things."

Thor pulls a strand forward. "Braids?"

"Yeah, those. How do you do that?"

Thor quizzically regards the short crop atop Steve's head and frowns. "I do not believe--"

"Not for me," Steve corrects, "for my girl."

The beefier (is he though?) man lights up with understanding. "Ah, yes, I see. Of course." He then pulls Steve into a side hug and leans in to whisper. "I warn you though. This will be a different challenge than you are accustomed to. It will require patience and much practice."

Steve blanches. How bad can this be? Is braiding harder than sex? Good lord, what has he gotten himself into?

"DAMN IT," you grouch in the bathroom.

"Honey...?" Steve peeks around the doorframe. "Everything alright?"

"No. No, it is not," you whine, sitting on the toilet and burying your face in your hands, a curtain of hair blocking what little light could shine through your fingers. "My hair is too dirty, I don't have time to do it before we need to meet Bucky and Nat downstairs, and I just broke my last hair tie!"

You're on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was to bother Steve with this.

"I can help."

You almost laugh. What the hell is he gonna do? Tuck it up under a cowl?

"Come on," he offers, a hand sliding under your elbow, "come sit on the edge of the bed and take a minute."

But with each second that passes you are more and more aware of how the crown of your head will still be damp if you don't start soon, or how your neckline will curl onto itself when it's not properly set and leave an annoying crimp. You barely notice Steve's fingers in your hair.

He's comforting you. That's nice. He does love running his fingers through it, and he's probably trying to prove the point that if it's good enough for him, it's fine to go out with. That's not the point. You want to look good, but a prominent feature on you is unruly and feeling more and more out of control.

His fingers continue gliding through your hair at your temples. Well, no, just one temple.

Then you feel a very delicate tugging instead of his fingers at your scalp.

Then the tugging repeats methodically.

"What are you doing?" You turn to see.

Steve blushes, already down past your shoulder so you can see the braid weaving in his hands.

You look up into his eyes, repeating your question silently.

He shrugs. He simply shrugs.

"I wanted to take care of you," he finally says, and it's at that moment you notice he is still going on that one braid. He's been twisting strand over strand this whole time, sitting with his leg bent on the bed between you, and he doesn't have to lean forward anymore.

It's so damn long.

That's it. That's the moment. When was the last time you got it cut? You can't even remember. There's been so much going on, and you're lucky you've been drinking water much less scheduling outside appointments for personal care.

"I love it, you know," Steve mutters as he pulls out a tiny string of leather, deftly affixing it to the end of the braid, and starting a new one just above it. "I love it every single day. Long or short. Washed or unwashed."

He pointedly smirks and leans forward to kiss that closest temple.

"And if I love it that much, I should help you love it, too."

When he's done with the second one, he pulls out another leather tie.

"Thor?"

Steve nods and then stands. Before he sits on the other side of you though, he rummages through his side of the closet to produce a Target bag, sheepishly handing it over.

"I bought you some things, too, but those were all he taught me with."

Inside the bag is clips and elastics, big and small. Headbands. Scrunchies. Two head scarves. Bobby pins with decorations and plain ones the color of your hair. It's quite the stash.

You see the receipt at the bottom, probably kept to return anything you don't like. "Steve, how much did this all--"

He snatches the paper out of your hand. "NOTHING," he shrieks a little too loudly.

And now you really have to laugh. Yes, Steve has an artistic side. Yes, he likes all his variety of pencils and charcoals.

But this?

He can't use this skill on anything but you.

He spent time learning and shopping for only you.

You sniffle at the end of a relieving belly laugh, sighing one more time but in pure contentment.

"Ok, coiffure," you announce, angling yourself away to present your loose locks. "Better finish up."

He sits down happily, keeping the bag open for you to choose from.

"Stick with the leather--" you shrug "--I have some boots to match."

There you have it, Notoriously Lovely Nana! I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm rooting for us all to have more positivity today and beyond.

Thank you for trusting me with the feels.

🥰

I love Eddie Munson so much.

That's it.

That's the post.

Reblog if you agree.

joe please

hi! i don’t know if you take requests/fic suggestions (if not feel free to ignore), but i love your writing (where the heart is ruined me in the best way!!) and thought you would write this idea super well. basically i saw this instagram reel (and watched it on repeat like 10 times) where a dad tells a waiter that his daughter thinks he’s cute and i thought it could be a cute meet-cute-scenario for eddie (or steve if you write for him)! that’s pretty much it lol, i hope you’re having a good day!

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CmXJ1_zL9F7/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

This may just be the cutest request I've ever gotten. I enjoyed writing this so so so much. I have to thank @munson-blurbs for suggesting I make the reader Hopper's daughter and adding another layer of hilarity to it for me. Fun fact, this scenario happened to my brother once. Only he was like, 11, so nothing was going to come from it and it was just purely my dad trying to embarrass him lol. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this!

Words 2.2k

“Hey, welcome to Breadstix. My name is Eddie and I’ll be your waiter.”

You look up from your menu and do a double take at the beautiful man standing there. He’s tall and thin, his black t-shirt showing off his tiny waist and the light jeans showcasing the length of his legs. He has brown curly hair tucked in a bun at the nape of his neck, with a few loose frizzy pieces framing his face. The tattoos that are scattered along his arms catch your attention; your eyes being particularly drawn to the colony of bats taking flight on his forearm. But it’s when you look into his eyes that you get lightheaded and forget your own name, let alone what you were going to order for dinner. 

Going out for a family dinner with your dad and sister was never something that was particularly exciting, but it just got a hell of a whole lot better. 

“The special today is the brown sugar pork chops with a sweet potato on the side.”

“Huh,” your dad hums, eyes scanning over the menu once more. “That sounds good. I’ll take the special and a coke.”

Eddie takes down the pen that’s tucked behind his ear and scribbles down on the pad in his hand. He looks at your sister next and she gives him a sweet smile.

“For you?” Eddie asks.

“I’ll have the mushroom and Swiss burger, please,” El says. “And a water.” 

He jots that down as well then turns to you. When his eyes land on you, your mouth goes dry. Eddie shoots you a smile and you swear your stomach is too full of butterflies to eat any food. 

“And what can I get for you?” Eddie asks.

A cold shower? A date? An orgasm? 

“Um, I’ll have the spaghetti and meatballs. A-And a Diet Coke,” you manage to get out.

“Ah, my favorite,” Eddie says with a wink that nearly kills you as he writes your order down. “I’ll put those right in for you.”

He walks away from the table, and you feel your body deflate, letting out a breath and finally relaxing. You drop your head down on the table to hide the smile spread across your lips.

“What’s with you?” your dad asks.

“Hmm?” You lift your head up and look at him. El is giggling in her seat next to you, clearly knowing why you’re acting strange and bubbly.

“What’s with this sudden…mood change?” Your dad waves his hand around in front of your face, gesturing to your dopey expression. 

“I know,” El snickers and you reach over to playfully shove her. Your dad leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the two of you. He raises his eyebrows at you girls as you nudge one another back and forth with your elbows.

“Well shit, someone slipped something into your Wheaties this morning,” he says.

But your dad isn’t dumb. As chief of police, things rarely escaped his notice. He’s just waiting to see if you’ll cop to it or not.

“No, it’s just…” You trail off, shaking your head.

“It’s what?” 

A red flush comes to your face and El covers her mouth as she lets out another giggle.

“He’s so cute.”

“Who?” Hopper asks, just flat out playing dumb now. 

“The waiter!” you say in exasperation.

“Eddie.” El says his name, leaning in towards you and wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Ah,” your dad says with a laugh. “That’s your type, huh?”

“Dad!” you admonish, face becoming even redder. 

He lifts his hands in surrender as El dissolves into laughter. Before, you wouldn’t have described yourself as having a “type” but after seeing Eddie, you can’t imagine having a type that didn’t look like him. It was hard to pick out one thing that turned you on about him the most. The package of Eddie as a whole was so overwhelming that you could practically feel the sharp stab of Cupid’s arrow jammed in your back.

You spot Eddie approaching with the drinks, so you swat at El to get her to behave. She bites her lip and stares down at the scuffed wooden table in front of her, so she doesn’t lose it again.

“Here we go. Water, coke, and a Diet Coke. Your dinner should be coming out soon,” Eddie says. “Everything okay here?”

You’re praying your dad keeps his mouth shut as you smile and nod your head at Eddie. When he gives you a smile in return, El covers a laugh by pretending to cough into her hand. You’d throttle her when you got home. Hopper seems to pay Eddie no more mind than he would any other waitstaff that his oldest daughter didn’t find absolutely beautiful.

After Eddie leaves again, conversation thankfully steers away from your romantic inclinations and into the topic of ridiculous calls that came in at the station today. El also tells you about a school project that’s coming up and tells your dad she needs to get a book for her next book report at the library. It’d be easy to think that your father forgot all about your attraction to your waiter, but when Eddie comes to deliver your meals, it’s obvious he didn’t. Sometimes the universe just liked to pull the rug out from underneath you.

“Alright,” Eddie says. He’s balancing the large tray carrying your plates on one hand, muscles rippling under the skin of his arm as he holds it up. The only thing that tears your eyes away from his bicep is when he places your dish down in front of you. “Anything else I can get you guys?”

“I think we’re all set,” your dad says. Eddie nods and tucks the tray under his arm. As he goes to turn away from the table, Hopper lifts his hand and swivels towards Eddie. “Oh, one thing.”

Eddie licks his lips as he spins back towards the table, a friendly smile on his face. “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, nothing,” your dad says with a shake of his head. “It’s just that my daughter here thinks you’re very cute.” He reaches over and pats you on the back so there’s no mistaking which one of his children he’s talking about. 

“Dad!” 

El bursts out into laughter as you raise your hands to cover your face, wanting to die on the spot. The heat in your cheeks is enough to make sweat break out along your hairline, only made worse by how fast your heart is pounding. The adrenaline rush flooding your veins is real. Being a high school student, you’ve been embarrassed plenty of times before in your life, but you think this takes the cake. Having the police chief as a father also came with its own moments of teasing and joking, but this seemed extreme even for him. Somewhere deep inside, you find the courage to peek at Eddie from between your fingers. There’s a shy smile on his face as he looks at you, his own cheeks dusted in a light bit of pink. 

“Well, that’s very sweet,” Eddie finally says, resting his hand over his heart. He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out and you realize that not only did your dad put you on the spot, but Eddie as well. “I’m flattered.”

Slowly your hands fall from your face and into your lap. Peering up at Eddie from under your eyelashes, he dips his gaze quickly before meeting yours again. The smile on his pretty mouth makes you feel as if there’s an animal jumping and banging around inside your heart, trying to break free. 

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you,” Eddie says before walking away.

Part of you feels a bit disheartened. But what did you expect? Eddie to ask you on a date because your father told him you’re attracted to him? Right in the middle of his shift? God, your dad better give him a big tip on the check. 

“You’re the worst,” you mumble as you twirl some spaghetti onto your fork. But there’s a fond smile on your face as you shoot a glare at the chief.

Eddie comes by twice more while you’re eating to see if everything is okay, and both times you can barely meet his gaze. El thinks it’s all hilarious and has a grin on her face for the rest of dinner. 

Once everyone is finished and your and El’s leftovers are boxed up, Eddie comes over with the bill. You expect him to put it down on the table right in front of your father, but he walks around him to come up behind you and reaches over our shoulder to lay the check down right in front of you.

“I figured you’d be taking care of this,” he says. You can’t see him from where he’s standing behind you, but El catches sight of the smirk on his face and her expression lights up in glee. 

It’s hard to concentrate on anything with Eddie standing so close to you that you can smell the trace of cigarettes under a spicy cologne wafting over you. When he speaks, the scent of mint is added into the mix, so you assume he’s chewing a stick of gum and you’ve never been more jealous of a piece of candy in your life. 

When Eddie walks away, you have to fight the urge to reach out and grab onto him and make him stay. El moving the check in front of you snaps your attention back to the task staring you in the face. You give El’s hand a light smack so she drops the slip of paper. You’re able to snatch it up and hold it up to your face so El can’t read it from where she’s sitting. 

I hope your dad is currently unarmed since I’d like to say that I think his older daughter is very beautiful. And inquire if she might like to go on a date with me? 555-0527 xoxo - Eddie

Your wide eyes can’t believe what you’re reading. It takes a minute for it to click in your brain what you’re actually looking at. The smile spreads across your lips next, making your cheeks ache from the intensity of your grin. 

When the paper gets plucked from your fingers you whine and furrow your brow at your father. 

“What, you going to pay?” he asks as he digs for his money in his wallet. 

“No. But I was reading that,” you say.

“Well hang on, I gotta know how much to leave don’t I? You can kiss his phone number once I’m done.”

The blush flares up on your face at his words. You weren’t going to actually kiss the paper. But the fact that said paper could lead to a kiss is what’s got you so wound up. Hopper slaps some bills down on the table and hands you the precious check back. You securely fold it and clutch it in your hands, afraid to let it out of your sight for even a moment. El grabs the takeaway boxes and the three of you head towards the door. As you take one last look over your shoulder into the restaurant, you see Eddie coming out of the kitchen. His eyes lock with yours and he gives you that smile you swear could stop time. 

“Maybe I should embarrass you more often, huh?” Hopper says from behind you. 

“No!” you and El answer in unison. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, glancing back at your family. 

“We’ll be outside,” your dad says.

“Have fun,” El adds with a smirk before she follows your dad out the door. 

Taking a deep breath to relax your system, you start to walk over towards Eddie. 

“Hey,” he says once you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry if you felt embarrassed or put on the spot. He can be a bit much sometimes.”

“No, no,” Eddie assures you with a shake of his head. “First thing I thought when I walked over to your table tonight was how beautiful you are. The Chief kind of did me a favor, actually.” 

“Oh. Well, I’m glad then,” you say, face glowing from his compliment. 

“I take it you got my note?” Eddie asks, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. 

“I did,” you say, still clutching it in your hands. “And I, uh, would like to go on a date with you. So, I’ll definitely call.”

“I get off work at nine,” he tells you. 

“You’ll hear from me soon after that then,” you say with a shy shrug of the shoulders. 

“I’m really looking forward to it, uh…”

He trails off and you realize it’s because he doesn’t know your name. You introduce yourself to him and extend your hand. Instead of shaking it, like you expected, he takes your hand in his and leans in to press his lips against your knuckles. You’re pretty sure you’re going to spontaneously combust. Or have an aneurysm. Or just flat out melt into a puddle on the floor. 

“I’ll talk to you tonight then,” Eddie says.

“Tonight,” you repeat, slowly backing away from him. You don’t want to go, but you know your dad will come in and say something even more embarrassing than he already did if you make him wait too long. 

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, beautiful.”

Joe Keery for ET Exclusive