midnight snack

Dating Fred would include…

-tickle fights
-always getting into trouble with him and George
-Molly knitting you a sweater for Christmas
-sneaking around at night to get a midnight snack
-a game about who of you can talk to Snape for the longest amount of time until he leaves
-Fred calling you “bird”
-kisses on your nose
-bellyache because of so much laughing
-you and George colouring Fred’s face when he falls asleep with his head resting on your knees
-Fred kissing the top of your head because you’re so much shorter than him

midnight snack pt. 1 (Derek Hale one shot)

“Shit!” you cursed loudly. It was the middle of the night and you were hopping up and down on one foot in Derek Hale’s kitchen. All you wanted was a midnight snack, but at this rate, you were going to wake up the whole town.

In your defense, you had managed to be stealthy so far, sneaking out of Derek’s guest room, tiptoeing down the stairs and across the loft with nothing but tiny, strategically placed nightlights to guide you. Maybe you got a little too excited in the final moments and didn’t see the protruding cabinet in your path, slamming your pinkie toe right into the corner. You limped to the counter and slumped against it dejectedly.

After your rage dissipated, you shuffled over to the fridge and pulled out some milk, rolling your eyes at Derek’s fat free selection. You made a mental note to go grocery shopping as you rifled through his dishes, spotting an appropriate cereal bowl trapped under several containers. You tried your best to quietly remove the ones on top, gingerly setting them aside.

The final obstacle was a rather large tupperware container tucked deviously between a ridge of the dish rack and the cereal bowl. You grabbed the sides of the container, attempting to separate it, but the movement caused tension between the surfaces and created a whiny creaking noise. You kept pulling to no avail, and the noise just got louder.

Finally, in one sweeping motion, you yanked the container from its position, but this knocked the bowl completely out of the dish rack and you squeezed your eyes shut as you heard a sharp CLANK! against the tile floor.

You peeked one eye open, and to your surprise, there were no beautifully bearded werewolves baring their teeth at you. You bent over to retrieve the bowl, reaching for the fallen object when all of a sudden, the lights came on. You froze.

“What. The hell. Are you doing?” you heard a familiar voice say. You shot up, coming face to face with a very sleepy and very distraught Derek.

(Part 2)

midnight snack pt. 2 (Derek Hale one shot)

“Um, I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I-I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d try eating something, but I couldn’t get the thing… off the thing…” you trailed off, pointing down at the abandoned cereal bowl. Derek glanced down, then stared stonily back at you, crossing his arms over his chest. His movement drew your eyes to his forearms as you admired the way his biceps flexed against his broad chest. You just realized he was only wearing sweat pants. You could feel your face burning, knowing Derek could hear your erratic heartbeat.  

“[y/n],” Derek sharply uttered, breaking your rapt attention from his body, his eyes squinting at you. In turn, yours widened. You felt like a horny deer caught in the kitchen lights. You felt exposed under his scrutiny, bringing your arms around your torso in embarrassment. Derek noticed your defensive stance. His gaze softened. “Why didn’t you tell me you had trouble sleeping?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. “But then I go and make a mess in your kitchen and wake you up in the middle of the night. I’m the worst,” you grumbled, breaking eye contact.

“You’re not the worst,” Derek began incredulously. “Peter’s the worst. Jackson’s the worst. Stiles is the worst,” he continued with an annoyed expression. The side of your mouth twitched up.

You glanced back at Derek’s concerned face. Your smile disappeared, replaced with a confused frown. “How am I not the worst? Peter and Jackson and Stiles don’t come up to you and ask to stay with you because they can’t even handle their own parents.”

“Look, I’ve seen the way your parents treat you. I don’t blame you for leaving,” Derek grit through his teeth.

You thought back to the time Derek invited himself over to your house because you’d found a way to decrypt a government database on mysterious unsolved crimes in California. He was sitting on your bed next to you while you were huddled over your computer, trying to curtain your face behind your hair. You remembered how nervous you’d been, never before having a boy alone in your bedroom, let alone the older werewolf that bit your best friend, Scott. You were decoding passwords when Derek suddenly grabbed your arm, informing you that your parents were home. He had barely managed to shut your closet door behind him when your parents entered, yelled at you for not working on homework and cleaning the house, called you a hopeless failure, and slammed the door as they left.

Afterwards, Derek carefully resumed his previous position next to you. Your eyes teared up, not because you were hurt by your parents’ words, but because you were so embarrassed that Derek had witnessed that part of your private life. Not even Scott or Stiles knew. You continued working on your laptop when you heard Derek mumble, “You shouldn’t have to take that.”

Too mortified to speak, you just continued typing.

Tensions continued to rise between you and your parents. They even turned on each other. Along with the yelling, they blamed you for all their financial problems, concluding that you were the reason they were broke and unhappy. One night, things escalated. Your parents were arguing when your mother suddenly threw a glass at your father. You watched as it shattered against the wall. You saw your dad take threatening steps towards your mother, so you moved in front of her. He shoved you aside and you hit your head against the banister. That’s when you’d had enough. You knew you had to leave, but you didn’t want Scott or Stiles to see you so broken.

That night, you found yourself in front of Derek’s loft, drenched in rain and tears. He took you in. You told him what happened while he stitched up your head. He took away your pain, but you couldn’t stop crying.

He told you to stay as long as you needed. You hated feeling like a damsel in distress, but you accepted, shocked that the leather jacket clad shadow you once met in the woods could show you such acceptance.

One month later, you were still living in Derek’s loft, still trying to adjust despite being plagued by nightmares of your parents and nogitsunes, still failing to hide the way your body reacted to Derek’s everything.

“I said you could stay because I wanted you to be safe,” Derek reminded. You loudly sighed and finally picked up the cereal bowl from the floor.

“But you’re not obligated to keep me safe,” you groaned. “That’s what I don’t get. Why do you care what happens to me? I am not your beta. Or your wife. Or your girlfriend.” You thought you saw Derek’s eyes flash red. “The only thing I’m good for is hacking.”

He scowled at you before answering.

“Not that I ever intended to have this conversation in the middle of the night. Or ever,” Derek muttered snidely, “But I care what happens to you because you are important. You’re good for a lot more than just hacking. You’re important to this pack and you’re important to me.” Derek finished with a straight face.

He continued, softer, “And you should’ve told me about your nightmares. Maybe I could’ve helped.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, quirking your head curiously. You suddenly felt a draft and looked down, realizing how little clothing you had been wearing this whole time. You didn’t expect to have a heart to heart with your landlord at this hour, so you had left your room in your sleepwear: plaid boy shorts and a v-neck. You preferred to sleep commando.

You looked up at him through your lashes. “How could you have helped?” You inquired innocently.

(Part 3)

midnight snack pt. 3 (Derek Hale one shot)

You pretended to pick a piece of lint off your shoulder as you inwardly cringed at your seduction skills. Derek took this opportunity to give you a once over. You casually tried to bring your arms over your thinly veiled chest. Your mind was racing so fast, prompting images of Derek pushing you down over the counter, then taking you in his bed. On cue, your heart rate sped up. You nearly scoffed at your own hormones, pushing aside your eager fantasies. As if Derek Hale would ever look at you like that.

No matter how hard you tried to hide your true emotions, Derek could always see through your facade. He chuckled good-naturedly and shook his head.

“I don’t know, [y/n]. Is there anything you can think of?” he baited, his face lifted in amusement. Your mouth went dry. Was he flirting with you?

You opened your mouth to respond, then immediately closed it, feeling your palms become sweaty. Your nightmares had been so terrifying and vivid these past few months, you wondered if this was just another dream, luring you in with its dark appeal only to end in pain and disappointment.

But this was Derek, you remembered. The same Derek who took you in when you were lost, who always saved you when you were in trouble, who gave you small, reassuring smiles during pack meetings when no one was looking. Derek would never hurt you.

Even though you doubted he could ever want you back, with your soft stomach, nerdy obsessions, and lack of supernatural powers, you took his bait. You were tired of feeling weak and confused and you wanted to take charge of something for once. You shut down your brain and succumbed to your desires, fully accepting that he could reject you any second now. You toed around his boundaries, trying to see how far you could push him.

“I think I just need a distraction,” you shyly hinted, looking down at your feet. “I get too in my head sometimes.”

Derek took one step closer to you. You could smell his intoxicating aftershave wafting through the air. You brought your legs together, squeezing your thighs. You wondered if Derek could smell your arousal.

“What normally distracts you?” he bit out, his eyes a deep emerald as opposed to their usual green.

Not feeling brave enough to tell Derek how you really felt, how he was constantly on your mind, taking your attention away from even the most basic of tasks, you looked straight into his eyes and simply breathed out, “You.”

Derek seemed to catch the double meaning behind your simple response as he faltered in his stance, uncrossing his arms. It felt like an unspoken question hung in the air of who would act first, who would cross the delicate line of friendship you both toed.

You started to panic because Derek hadn’t responded and you had just put yourself out there. But in a matter of seconds, he had closed the distance between you two with three long strides. You looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling vulnerable as he towered over your small frame.

He raised his hand, carefully grazing his fingers across the side of your neck, gently nudging your chin up with his thumb. You couldn’t help but observe his mouth as his tongue swiped across it, highlighting the pink softness.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, searching your face intently. His thoughtfulness sent a jolt of shivers down your body. You were unable to comprehend how someone who’s endured so much suffering could still be so gentle, could touch you like he was afraid you would break.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. Bouncing lightly on your toes, you tried to match his height, and hesitantly pressed your lips against his.

(Part 4)