“Babe?”

No one knows why Eddie and Nancy call each other "my dear" and "honey" respectively. Not even Steve and Robin, who only give a brief pause (and sometimes a confused, "huh?") before going back to whatever nonsense. Even though it is absolutely, one hundred percent, their fault.

It’s all because Eddie and Nancy are dating two people permanently attached at the hip. "Platonic soulmates" they say, repeated ad nauseam. Two people who should be siblings. A pair of bickering sisters who are also sometimes gross brothers. A brother and sister duo so chaotic they give the Sinclairs a run for their money.

Platonic soulmates who act like two silly drunk girls when they are out at a bar. Two losers who cackle with laughter and sing along far too loudly to the radio on the way home.

A pair of idiots stumbling up the stairs in Steve’s house, gradually discarding jackets, bags and accessories.

Eddie is relatively sober, having played with the band and Nancy is tipsy, never one to entirely shake her sensible and put-together self. So Eddie follows behind, closing the front door, locking it and turning the lights off, while Nancy scurries along picking up the tossed attire.

"You're my best friend!" Robin shouts, squishing Steve's cheeks together as they hang off each other, wobbly at the top of the stairs.

"Love you, Robbie!" Steve says, voice cracking as he sniffles and kisses her on the cheek.

He takes her hand and they disappear up the hall.

By the time Eddie reaches Steve’s bedroom, Steve and Robin are passed out on that plaid bedspread, all curled up together like two creatures huddled together for warmth and companionship.

Nancy grumbles as she straightens up the shoes scattered at the foot of the bed.

"I swear they forget we exist sometimes," she says, huffing as she tugs off Robin’s left boot that she’d only managed to unzip.

"Oh absolutely," Eddie agrees.

He can’t help but walk over to Steve’s bedside and brush his fringe from his face. Steve produces a gross snorting nose at the movement, cuddling in closer to his best friend.

"Stop… snoring… di…" Robin mumbles, not getting out her favourite nickname before drifting back off to sleep.

Eddie steps back and folds his arms, resigning himself to spending his Sunday tolerating two hungover platonic soulmates in their worst and most annoying form.

Nancy rolls her eyes. "Get your bag and come into the spare room."

They make quick work of changing, Eddie in an oversized band tee and a pair of Steve’s checked pyjama pants he had taken ownership of. He looks in the mirror as he stands side-by-side Nancy in the upstairs bathroom, both brushing their teeth in silence. He looks over her pale pink nightdress, embellished with embroidered flowers and can’t help the huffed laugh that escapes him.

"What?" Nancy smiles and spits out her toothpaste in the sink.

"We look like an old married couple who have run out of things to talk about."

Nancy giggles, quickly moving to a washcloth to wipe her mouth before she bursts out laughing. She zips up her cosmetics bag and makes a sharp turn to face Eddie, her brow quirked.

"Honey, did you enjoy the soiree this evening?" she says in an uptight, snooty voice, cocking her chin and giving a sly smile.

"Splendid, my dear!" he replies, toothbrush dangling from his mouth as he bows with a flourish. "Although the band was an absolute bore."

"Don't say that!" Nancy chides, breaking character as she playfully slaps his shoulder.

He snorts a laugh as he finishes up and rinses his mouth out, dripping water everywhere.

"Wheeler, there were like seven people there, including you, Steve and Rob," he laughs, dropping the facade too.

"Shall we retire for the night?" she says, changing the subject and slipping back into character. She offers her hand.

"To the bedroom!" he declares, pointing to the door.

The spare bedroom is, unsurprisingly, similar to the rest of the house. Sparse and low-lit with heavy dark curtains that make Steve’s plaid drapes look light and airy in comparison.

"I hope you don’t snore as much as Steve, Nancy," Eddie warns without any heat behind his words as he punches his pillow into a shape that isn't flat and solid.

"He does snore, doesn’t he?" she wonders aloud as she slips under the covers, huffing a laugh. "Robin talks in her sleep. Nothing serious or anything. Total nonsense."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Of course she does."

"Last week she woke me up," she starts as she pokes at his shoulder. "Tapping on my shoulder saying, ‘Nance, tell the fish it’s time to get ready for school’."

"Di-did you have… fish children?" he asks before doubling over, cackling.

"I think so," Nancy ponders, speaking slow before snorting a laugh.

"Goodnight, my dear."

"Night, honey."

At that, they turn away from each other, snuggling under the covers for a restful night’s sleep.

The following morning, Steve and Robin swap out his bed for cocooning themselves in blankets on the Harrington's gigantic couch as Eddie finishes up making their breakfast. They’d stirred fairly early in the morning, moving into the guest room and not-at-all subtly waking Eddie and Nancy to demand breakfast, all the while complaining about their whereabouts the night before.

Nancy enters the kitchen, freshly showered and laughs at the state of their counterparts. But they do not surface. If anything, Eddie swears Steve’s snoring is getting louder with every passing minute.

"Breakfast is all set, my dear," Eddie says, flinging a teatowel over his shoulder and offering her Steve's plate.

She hesitates but he gestures to the others on the couch. Robin is now babbling something incoherently as she taps Steve on the shoulder.

"Thank you, honey," Nancy giggles as she takes the food.

Steve hasn't cried for years.

Ever since he was a kid, his father has chided him for crying because 'men don't cry, boy, stop that nonsense and grow up.' Even his mother would tell him that if he wanted to be the man of the house one day, he needed to learn not to be such a crybaby.

So he did.

He broke his arm in 5th grade and didn't make a sound, he was left alone in that big house for 2 weeks and instead of crying like the little boy inside of him wanted to do, he invited all his friends over and trashed the place. He didn't cry when his father slapped him for the first time or when they left and didn't come back.

They'd taught him well.

Except now he's crying and he doesn't know how to stop.

He'd come home from Eddie's funeral, admittedly a little tipsy, and the second the door clicked shut behind him, the tears started and they haven't stopped since. It hurts so bad and just when he thinks he's got a hold of himself, he remembers that he's sitting alone in the dark of his empty shell of a house and it all starts up again. He cries for his broken arm and the slap that still stings whenever he thinks of his parents, he cries for Eddie, for Max, and for himself.

He ends up reaching for the phone on the wall and, after putting in the wrong number twice, he calls Robin. She answers immediately, her soft "Hello?" bringing on more tears as Steve remembers everything they went through, everything he dragged her into.

"Robin." He sobs weakly as he lies down on the ground with the phone pressed to his ear. "Robin, it hurts."

"Oh, Steve, what's wrong? What hurts? Are you OK?" He can tell she's trying to stay calm for his sake but he can hear the slight panic in her voice and the tell tale rustling of her putting on a jacket.

"Everything hurts. I-I think I'm drowning."

"I'm coming, hold on."

Robin runs the whole way to his house. She barges through the front door and all the panic and fear that had been written on her face falls away as she lays eyes on Steve, who's curled up on the floor, still in his suit, and crying so loud it echoes through the house. "Oh, honey."

He wails into her chest as she scoops him up in her arms and joins him on the cold tiles. "I'm right here. Just let go, let it all out. I know it hurts now but you'll feel better afterwards. Trust me."

So he does. He let's every little thing that's hurt him over the years bubble up inside him and spill out.

Happy Birthday Chris! 🩵

"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."

i love your whole dad!steve concept it truly makes my heart burst! set in the singlemom!reader verse, could you do something where it’s steve’s birthday and the reader surprises him with an adoption certificate asking him to adopt the baby?

That would be the CUTEST THING. Oh yes, I’m so excited for this! I have to use this gif because imagine how stunned and surprised and just shocked in general he would be. My heart 😭 (also, fun fact: I ended up including my little fur baby’s name in here)

“Surprise!”

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shi- uh crap out of me!”

Steve put a hand to his chest, eyeing the toddler in your arms, glad he’d caught the swear just in time. These days, she was repeating anything she heard so he’d tried to be extra careful what he said when he was around her.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you smiled, putting the little girl in your arms down so she could greet him too.

She went flying the short distance between you and Steve, running over to him to hug his legs.

“Happee birfday daddy!” she squealed, wrapping her small arms around his legs.

He smiled, bending down to pick her up.

“Thank you baby girl and mommy,” he said looking over at you, the smile lighting his face.

“I got you pwesent,” she said, beaming up at her daddy.

“Did you now? What did you get me? Hmm, a tie?”

She shook her head emphatically.

You raised a brow, amused, “You? I’m a tie?”

He stuck his tongue out at you, playfully.

“Let’s see,” Steve resumed his guessing game with his and your daughter, “Is it…a book?”

“No!” she grinned.

“Is it your favorite stuffed bunny named Hoppy?”

“No, silwee!” she giggled.

Still working on her pronunciation of the word, “silly” came out much cuter and funnier than it should’ve, causing Steve to laugh with joy.

“Is it a million kisses for daddy?” he asked again, then started attacking her face with kisses, giving her numerous ones all over her face.

The little girl squealed with joy. It was one of her favorite things her daddy did, was give kisses.

“Mommy have pwesent,” she finally said when Steve stopped, pointing towards you.

You held a print out caked shaped design that the toddler had “painted”. But, at the top, you’d done a little activity with her. You’d dipped her entire finger into different paints and made a few “candles” out of her finger prints at the top of the cake. It had turned out adorable.

“What is this?” Steve asked, taking the picture, looking at it.

The smile hadn’t left his face yet, but it grew even brighter as he looked at the picture.

“Did you do this for me, sweetie?” he asked.

Your daughter nodded with a smile.

“Mommy hepped.”

“Mommy helped?” he translated.

“Yesh.”

“Well, I love it,” he kissed the top of her head, “Thank you so much princess.”

“You welcome, daddy.”

“The kids, Robin, Eddie, Nancy and Joyce all dropped off their presents earlier,” you chuckled, nodding to the pile of wrapped presents and gift bags on the couch, “The living room looks like Christmas currently.”

Joyce and Mrs. Wheeler were hosting a cook out party for Steve at the Wheeler’s house this weekend for everyone to gather and celebrate your boyfriend, but most of the gang had decided to drop off their gifts for him early, on his actual birthday. Today, he was celebrating with you and your daughter.

“Well I guess that means someone is going to have to help open all those presents. Who should it be?” Steve tapped his chin, thinking.

“Meme! Meme! Meme! Pwease, daddy?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, of course you can.”

He kissed her cheek.

“What’s for dinner? It smells amazing in here,” he said, following you further into the kitchen.

“I fixed spaghetti since the munchkin requested it,” you said, sparing the little girl an amused glance, “I hope that’s okay.”

“Pagetti!” she cheered.

“Well, then I’m in luck because your spaghetti is my favorite,” he smiled, giving you a kiss as well.

“No,” your baby whined, trying to pull Steve’s face away from you.

She was currently going through a bit of a jealous phase where she wanted Steve’s attention at all times.

“Hey, now that’s not nice, sweetheart. There’s enough of daddy to share okay? See, look. I can give you a kiss as well.”

He kissed her cheek, then her forehead to prove his point.

“Now, can you say sorry to mommy?”

“I sowwy,” she frowned, not liking to upset either one of you.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” you soothed, running a hand over her hair.

“Go get cleaned up, dinner is almost ready, okay?” you told Steve.

“You heard what mommy said. Let’s go wash our hands okay?” he bounced her in his arms.

“Oh I got a present for you, too, but I’ll give it to you later, if that’s alright?” you said.

“Oh,” he smirked, “That’s more than alright.”

“Steve!” you huffed, hitting his chest playfully, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Alright, but can it be arranged? It is my birthday after all. I deserve some dessert.”

He gave you a grin, with a suggestive little wiggle of his brows before he walked out with the little girl, heading towards the bathroom.

“Besides cake, I mean!” he hollered.

You laughed, shaking your head at the audacity of him.

•

It wasn’t until after yours and Steve’s daughter was down for the night that you got the chance to give Steve your present.

True to his word, he’d let her help him open his gifts. She was a mess after the spaghetti dinner though, so bath time came first. Per Steve’s request, you and he gave her a bath together. She absolutely loved the extra attention, having both mom and dad with her for bath time was a rare occurrence. It was usually one or the other.

While Steve got her into her pajamas, you drained the bathwater and cleaned up the bathroom, not leaving it for later when you knew you’d be too tired to deal with the mess.

With hair still wet from the bath and in fresh pajamas, Steve set her in his lap and let her help him open presents. He let her pick which one to start with and it was off from there. You had a kick watching both of them, the toddler just as excited as Steve was. You appreciated how he included her in so much; you appreciated it more than he probably knew.

It wasn’t until the last few presents that her energy drained and the tell-tale signs of her sleepiness kicked in. She was yawning and rubbing her eyes, beginning to fuss at the mention of bedtime.

She fell fast asleep just before the last present and after opening it as quietly as he could—even though it didn’t disturb her the slightest—Steve carried her to bed and tucked her in.

He was tidying up the floor when you walked back in the room, picking up the pieces of wrapping paper and tissue paper from gift bags that had been carelessly thrown by an excited two and a half year old.

You hid the gift behind your back as you entered, biting your lip nervously. You were afraid that he might not like it as much as you’d hoped he would when you’d first received it. It was a medium sized rectangular gift box, wrapped in birthday wrapping paper, but it was what was inside that was the true gift.

Steve was chuckling to himself when you first entered and now he looked up, seeing you, filling you in on what was amusing him so much.

“I can’t believe Henderson got me four cans of Farrah Fawcett hairspray. What a kid.”

“Steve? Why don’t you sit down?”

Sensing your somber mood, he sat on the couch.

“What’s up?”

You sat down next to him, revealing the present from behind your back.

“Happy birthday.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me anything,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into him before kissing your temple.

“I know. But I wanted to. Go ahead, open it.”

He tore into the wrapping paper at a much more normal speed than that of the excited toddler earlier. He peeled away the wrapping to see the gift box you knew was underneath. He peered at you curiously before lifting the lid.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper was a small stack of papers. Steve’s brows crinkled in confusion as his eyes scanned over the paper on top.

“What’s this?” he asked.

He looked back down at his gift, his eyes widening when they landed on the word “adoption”.

“Is this…?” he started, not quite sure how to finish his sentence.

“It’s adoption papers. To legally adopt baby girl. Make her a Harrington,” you finished for him.

He stared at you, blinking. Then he set the box aside, taking your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

You saw tears in his eyes. You also saw a smile on his face. He was so happy and that erased any nerves you’d felt before he’d opened it.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He kissed you then, holding your face firmly in his hands, trying to convey his gratefulness, his happiness, his love, in the single kiss.

As if that hadn’t been enough, he made sure you knew his answer when you two had parted.

“I’d love to adopt her.”

It was the best birthday Steve had ever had.

eddie’s love language being physical touch but gets all overwhelmed and shy when he feels your hands roam his chest, hips, shoulders, anywhere you can get to. he would take in an involuntarily sharp breath because it’s something he has very little experience with.

you’d notice the way his body tensed at your hot touch, gently taking your hands away. “everything okay, eds?”

eddie’s face would flush in embarrassment, not used to being vulnerable and exposed like this with somebody he cared deeply for. which, was also something he wasn’t used to.

“y-yeah, sweetheart. ‘m fine.” he’d mumble, unsure how to explain himself in the right way. a way that wouldn’t make you look at him like everybody else did: like he was a freak.

you’d cock an eyebrow at your suddenly shy, soft-spoken boyfriend. it was so unlike eddie to not say what was on his mind. “i don’t buy it, eddie. it’s like you’re not even here.” and you don’t mean for it to come out as flat as it did, but it was too late when he winced.

“i know, ‘m sorry baby,” his hand would find home at the base of your neck as he rubbed small circles with his thumb, urging you to meet his eyes. “i guess im just not used to… all of this.” eddie gestured the two of you with his other hand and hoped it made enough sense so he wouldn’t embarrass himself further.

you softened instantly, laced your fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand. he’d look at your hands all jumbled together, soft dewy gloss shimmering on his skin, and wondered if the knots in his stomach would ever go away. but then his eyes fluttered back to yours and it was like the entire world dissolved behind you, your eyes gentle and loving.

“eddie, we can go as slow as you want to. just tell me if it’s ever too much, okay?” you whispered, not ever in a million years thinking it would be you to comfort him; a metalhead who wore handcuffs on his belt and considered drug dealing a job. “i love you, even if you hate being touched by me…too soon?” you joked, trying to lighten the tension that had suddenly settled in the room.

you sat in silence for a beat, about to backpedal thinking you went too far. but eddie’s furrowed look evaporated as he laughed loudly at your joke, an incredulous look on his face when he finally calmed down. “yeah, too fuckin’ soon! christ.” but he had to stifle his laughter by biting down on his bottom lip.

you smiled at him; so gorgeous, eddie thought - and you leaned in to give him a soft but sugary sweet kiss. “i love you too, pretty girl,” he mumbled when you pulled away, hot breath fanning your mouth. without another word, eddie pulled you on top of him, wrapped his arms around your back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

turned out, it was possible for eddie’s anxieties to completely vanish without a trace. only weeks later was he climbing all over you as you watched a movie with your friends, his hands roaming your figure and tugging you endlessly closer to him. if the two of you did anything together that didn’t involve your hands, eddie would insistently hold yours. eddie! i’m trying to eat! you’d scolded him once when he stole your hand away from the table. he’d only shrug with a well, your other hand is free, sweetheart.

and though he was often sometimes insufferable, you could never deny the intimacy that eddie had now craved. you realized you’d do anything for him, anything at all to make him happy.

Happiness Will Come To You.

Derek Hale x Female Reader

Title- Stiles' Little Sister

Description- Derek comforts reader after she had a hard day at school. Just fluff, that's all this is

Word count- 1630

Y/N is pulled from sleep at the feeling of a gentle hand rubbing up and down her back, nails lightly scratching a path over her shirt. A smile graces her face when she looks up to see her boyfriend of eight months crouching down next to her bed. "Hi, Derbear." She whispers through a sleepy smile.

"Hi, babygirl. You looked so cute sleeping, I didn't want to wake you." Derek says with a blinding smile. Y/N is quick to bury her face back into her pillow, blushing at Derek's words. Derek huffs out a laugh as he climbs into the bed with the younger girl. "How was school?" He asks, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head. Y/N merely shrugs her shoulder, resting her head on the werewolf's chest. "Did something happen?" He worries. 

Y/N sighs, letting the feel of Derek running his nails down her shirt-covered back calm her before she says anything. "Nothing happened, per se," She mutters, drawing patterned on Derek's chest. "It's just the teachers, and students, and stuff." She finally says after a moment of silence.

"Did somebody say something to you?" Derek questions, still running his hand up and down the girl's back in an attempt to keep her grounded and in the moment.

The room is quiet for a few minutes as Y/N gathers her thoughts, deciding how she wants to talk the problem out with her boyfriend. "It's just, that ever since our relationship became public, everyone treats me differently. Like, kids talk about me behind their backs. Granted, they don't know I can hear what they're saying, werewolf hearing and everything but that doesn't matter! The teachers treat me differently too. They don't call on me when I know the answer, and they know, I know it! And they call on me when I don't know the answer and embarrass me in front of the whole class. Hearing what everyone is saying about us behind our backs is what hurts the most." Y/N vents, squeezing her hands into fists when her claws slowly start to come out. Taking a deep breath, she continues. "I hear them say I'm only with you for the money or the sex. I'm not only with you for either but don't get me wrong, the sex is great, but it's not the only reason I'm with you! Or the money! I don't care about the money! I promise Der." Y/N says, tears quickly brimming her eyes.

"Hey, hey, calm down babygirl. I know you're not with me for either, though I would have to agree, the sex is pretty good," Derek says with a cheeky smile, making Y/N huff out a laugh. "What else are they saying?" He questions quietly.

"They say that you're blackmailing or threatening me to be with you, calling you a pervert for being with someone so much younger than you. Eight years isn't that much! Mom and Dad were nine years apart! Dad wouldn't have let us be together if he saw something wrong with it" Y/N exclaims.

Sure, the Sheriff didn't see any problems with the couple being together, but Stiles sure saw a problem.

Y/N and Derek were too wrapped up in each other to hear the sound of the loft door being opened and closed, or the sound of footsteps coming toward them until it was too late. Stiles' scream of horror when he looked at the couple is what brought them out of the intense makeout session. Y/N hurriedly throws herself off of Derek's lap, covering herself with the comforter, and looking around the floor for her jeans and shirt she had thrown off in her haste to climb onto Derek's lap.

"Stiles! Do you not know how to knock?" Derek growls, pulling his jeans on over his boxers.

"I didn't think I had to knock! I would have if I'd known you were sucking my baby sister's face off! Dude, you're like, ten years older than her! Dad is gonna flip when he finds out, Y/N!" Stiles yells.

"He's only eight years older, and Dad already knows! I wouldn't be dating Derek if Dad didn't know. Now will you please leave so I can get dressed? I would rather my boyfriend be the only person to see me in my underwear!" Y/N yells at her older brother, sending the other boy scurrying out of the room and down the stairs. Y/N sighs, flopping down onto the bed, and covering her face with her hands.

"At least we still had our underwear on. It could have been so much worse, babydoll," Derek says as he hovers over her. He pries her hands from her face, giving her a gentle smile when she glares at him. "Look on the bright side, now when I sneak in your window at night, we don't have to be as quiet, since he knows. Granted, I'm not gonna make you scream, that's only for me to hear." Derek says, nipping at the younger girl's neck, making her squeal.

"You better get off my sister and get down here, Derek Hale!" Stiles yells from the living room of the loft. Derek growls softly, his eyes flashing Alpha red, Y/N's flashing yellow in return as she giggles at her boyfriend and Alpha.

"We're coming, keep your pants on, Stilinski!" Derek yells back, getting up from the bed to finish buttoning his jeans and find a shirt. He throws Y/N's discarded clothes at her, flashing his eyes at her one last time as he says, "We're not done here. When he leaves, I'm going to finish what I started." Y/N squeaks, moving to quickly put her clothes on, in a bid to get her brother out of the loft quicker. Derek chuckles, watching his girlfriend rush down the stairs while she's still fixing her shirt.

"Stiles has a reason to have a problem with our relationship, but no one else does! I just don't understand why anyone else cares." Y/N says, sniffling softly, all the steam from her rant quickly leaving her.

"Y/N, can you look at me please?" Derek gently asks, pulling his girlfriend's face to his. "I don't care what anyone else thinks of us. This relationship is between you and me. No one else. No one else has any say in our relationship. I'm dating you, not them. If I wanted their opinion, I would ask them, but I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, they can all go eat Wolfsbane. I only care what you think, because I love you, and only you."  Derek says softly, smiling when Y/N's eyes widen.

"You love me?" She asks. In the eight months they had been dating, those three words hadn't come up yet. Y/N had wanted Derek to say it when he felt like it, not when he thought she would want to hear it, so she let him be the first to say it.

"I do. I love you more than anything in this world, which is why I don't care what anyone else says about us. Only you."

"I love you too, more than anything, Derek. You're the best thing to happen to me in a long time." Y/N says. Her eyes flash gold, Derek's answering in red. The couple sit for several minutes in content silence, until Y/N says, "My mom would have loved you."

Derek's face breaks into a huge smile when he replies. "I know my family would love you too. Almost as much as I love you. But not nearly as much." He says, pulling the girl on top of him. Y/N softly rubs her nose over Derek's neck, scenting him gently. She lets the smell of her Alpha lull her to sleep, Derek following not long after.

~*~

The sound of the dismissal bell rings throughout the parking lot, as students file out of the doors. Derek waits, leaning up against his Camero, watching for Y/N's bouncing bun on the top of her head to come out of the door. When he finally lays eyes on her, she's talking to a girl with purple hair, but is quick to bid her goodbye when she sees Derek waiting for her. She takes off like a shot to him, her backpack bouncing against her back as she rapidly makes her way to him.

Derek braces for impact when she gets close to him, opening his arms for her to run into. The Alpha werewolf encircles her shoulders with his arms when she makes contact with him, her arms wrapping around his middle. "Hi, baby. I missed you today." Derek says into her hair, where he places a kiss. "How was your day?" He asks when she pulls away.

She gives him a radiant smile, puckering her lips in invitation for a kiss, which Derek is quick to grant with a huff of laughter. "It was really good. Since you've started picking me up at the end of the day and you bring me lunch, people have stopped talking about us as much. The teachers are nicer too. I think they're scared of you. It's great!" Y/N chirps happily.

Derek laughs gently at the younger werewolf, sliding his hands down her back to rest of her jeans-clad butt. "I'm glad. Now, let's get home, I've been dying to have you under me all day, and I don't plan on wasting any more time in making that happen. Get in the car, babydoll." Derek all but growls in Y/N's ear, opening to door for her. Y/N makes a sound between a squeal and moan when Derek slaps her butt as she's getting into the Camero, making Derek laugh as he rounds the front of the car to get into the driver's side, revving the engine and pulling out of the parking lot hastily.

Wayne thought perhaps Eddie had a cold after the third sniffle sounded from behind Eddie's closed bedroom door, and made a mental note to check the date on the back of the medicine bottle left over from the previous time sickness had struck the Munsons down.

But then he heard a muffled sob, followed by a whimper and a sniffle and then -

Wayne was up and out of his seat in seconds. Didn't hesitate as he rapped with a knuckle on the bedroom door. "Eddie?"

A rough sniffle, a quiet, "shit, shit" and then rustling before the door cracked open. Eddie looked rough; his eyes all red, his cheeks damp and sticky with tears, skin blotchy, some hair stuck to his face where he'd roughly smeared tears across his skin.

Wayne suppressed a sigh, motioned towards the bed as he let himself in, sat down with Eddie. He didn't say anything; Eddie would open up when he was ready to, and not before. If Wayne tried to pry, Eddie would put his walls back up so fast he'd never know that Eddie was ready and willing to let them down in the first place.

His blue eyes were soft as he looked at the boy he had raised so well - given the circumstances, Eddie had turned out beautifully - and Eddie cracked yet again, turning his head away so Wayne could only see the dark curtain of Eddie's hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and Wayne let him hide in himself.

He'd come out of his shell when he was ready - clearly, he wanted to talk. If Eddie didn't want to, he would have left the room or otherwise made it known.

"Do you - " Eddie exhaled roughly, shook his head, his hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, "believe them?"

Wayne winced, immediately knowing what Eddie was referring to.

Freak. Cult leader. Dangerous. Devil worshipper. Drug dealer.

Only one of those things were true; Wayne didn't necessarily approve of it, but Eddie had his reasons and he trusted him. He defended Eddie against ignorant people every day and now he had to defend Eddie on his own behalf... it put a bitter taste in his mouth but he swallowed it down, focused on his Eddie. His kind, sweet, greatly misunderstood boy.

Wayne shook his head. "No, son. You know I don't."

Eddie choked and his head whipped around to look at his Uncle, eyes wide, glistening with tears.

Wayne continued. Had to hammer the moment home.

"You're innocent." At Eddie's incredulous look, Wayne smirked, "I've seen you cry at Bambi, my boy. It's just not in your nature to be what the town says." Wayne shrugged easily, raising his arm as he saw Eddie shuffling over. His boy folded himself into Wayne's side and Wayne rubbed his hand up and down Eddie's arm, squeezing him in a half hug.

Eddie sniffled and leaned his head on Wayne's shoulder, dark curls spilling over red and blue plaid. They stayed there together for long enough that Eddie stopped crying into Wayne's shoulder and slumped down until his head was on his lap. Wayne's hands found Eddie's hair and brushed his fringe away.

"More'n you know, Eddie." Wayne patted Eddie's shoulder, "You're more'n you know. S'bout time someone showed you."

Eddie wiped a hand over his face, sat up and gave Wayne a shaky smile. It was full of gratitude and affection, soaked his next words. "You do, dad. Every day."

Wayne's heart squeezed and now he was the one who wanted to cry.

Munson family tags @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @alliecheer007-88 missfangirl-slightly-obsessive @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod

Just Eddie Munson swearing for almost 2 minutes 😌