Beacon Hills had been surprisingly quiet on the supernatural front for months. As Derek’s only real job was patrolling and fighting off the usual forces of evil sent to destroy Beacon Hills, it had left him with very little to do. Exercising all day had become increasingly redundant, so his workouts were now limited to maybe an hour. If he felt like it. The pack had been slowly talking him into adding more and more furniture – he now had an almost fully-furnished house, complete with the biggest flat-screen TV they could find. It seemed like an unnecessary expense at the time, but now that Stiles and Scott had gotten him into terrible reality television shows, Derek appreciated the big screen. So much easier to get hooked into the drama that way.
Derek was currently on the seventh season of his Survivor binge, when his stomach started growling. Getting to his feet, he headed into the kitchen for something to eat. Unsurprisingly, the fridge and cabinets were empty, save for a few boxes of a cereal, a couple of apples, and some gelatinous milk. He felt no motivation to head to the grocery store, or even to call in a delivery order, so he sat back down on the couch, turning the TV back on and promising he would go out and get something for dinner instead.
As he settled down on the couch, an ad popped on the screen. A group of little gray blobs with smiling faces and wide eyes were clustered together, giggling.
You don’t look busy, so we felt it wouldn’t be rude
if we took a moment to intrude.
We’ve noticed you have nothing to eat,
So let the Munchies perform an amazing feat!
The screen shut off right after and refused to turn back on. Irritated, Derek got to his feet. Might as well go get food and hope the screen came back on. On his way to the door, he stopped. He was suddenly salivating with the sudden overwhelming aromas of food wafting out of his kitchen.
Following the scent, he found his entire kitchen bursting with various kinds of food. A pan of lasagna and loaves of garlic bread were cooking in the oven. The fridge was loaded with different cheeses, huge portions of ready-to-be-heated casseroles or macaroni, along with bakery boxes of cakes, pies, cheesecakes, and dessert bars. Even the cabinets had been refilled with chips and snacks.
The little gray blobs were sitting on his kitchen table.
Derek growled, backing up instinctively and grabbing for his phone, halfway through sending a text out to the pack.
“Get out.”
Awww why are you in such a bad mood?
Looks like someone needs some food!
“I’m not hungry.” Derek lied. He flushed when his belly started grumbling loudly again, followed by a sharp pang of hunger.
We promise that the munchies mean no harm,
really there is no cause for alarm.
We saw you were out of food, our friend,
so we’ve made you a feast that will never end!
Derek put the phone down on the counter, eying the meal cooking in the oven. A few bites wouldn't hurt, he didn't smell wolfsbane or any other poison, and he could easily squash these "Munchies" with a fist. Really, nothing felt threatening about these little creatures.
“You better leave after I eat,” he told them. He pulled the lasagna and bread out of the oven and took a seat at the table as the Munchies watched him gleefully, giggling to themselves.
Three of them jumped off the counter and then scurried back, presenting Derek with a fork.
Don’t worry about manners, why get a plate,
not eating it all would be mistake!
Derek took a hesitant bite. The sauce was rich and flavorful, the pasta smothered with layers and layers of cheeses. It tasted even better than it smelled. He started taking greedy forkfuls, setting a brisk pace, his mouth constantly chewing. Occasionally he would pause and tear off a chunk of bread, shoving it in his mouth before turning back to the pan of pasta.
Since we want to see your weight increase,
we’re throwing you a gigantic feast!
Food is always better with fat and grease!
How else will we make you grow so obese?
Their words made Derek pause and look up. He had eaten more than he thought - a loaf of garlic bread and over half of the lasagna, but didn’t feel nearly as full as he should have been after such carb heavy food. He pushed himself back from the table.
“I’m done eating.”
“Lies!” The Munchies cried.
What’s the harm in one day to cheat?
You deserve to have a treat!
He picked up the fork again and the Munchies cheered. Derek’s mind felt clouded by the overwhelming hunger he felt, but their logic did make sense. He had been working out the last few weeks, one day of indulgence wouldn’t do any harm. These…creatures likely didn’t know he was a werewolf. All this food wouldn’t affect him as much as a human, he could easily burn it off in a few workouts. With renewed gusto, he finished the lasagna and garlic bread. Before he could take a pause from his last bite, the Munchies had brought Derek over more food.
“Hold on.” He struggled to his feet. His stomach was rounded, pressing uncomfortably tight against the waistband of his pants. “I need something to drink.”
“Sit! Sit!” The Munchies demanded. “We’ll take care of it!”
A gallon of milk appeared by his side. Derek immediately brought it to his lips, taking a few, long chugs, before he set it back down. He leaned back in his seat, reaching underneath his swollen gut to undo the button of his pants. Despite the huge meal he had just eaten, the hunger pains still hit him. He was desperate for more, all the food spread out in front of him on the table looked luring him in.
We know you can handle so much more,
eat until your belly’s sore,
you can stop when you don't fit through your door!
Derek reached out for the next dish in front of him, a plate piled high with lemon bars. Once he had finished that he moved on to the bowl of macaroni and cheese. He started eating more greedily as he went, shoveling food into his mouth to try and satisfy his ever-growing hunger, one hand rubbing his bloating stomach.
He lost track of time and how many dishes he had consumed. It seemed for each one he finished, two more were brought in his place. Finally, his belly was at the point of being painfully full, sitting in his lap, hugely inflated with food. His shirt had risen up, barely stretching over the top of his gut.
“That’s it. I – urp – no more.”
He tried to get to his feet, panting and burping as the weight of his tummy kept him solidly in the chair. Derek shifted into a more comfortable position, deciding he would sit there and digest first before he started moving…
He drifted off to sleep.
***
He woke up on the couch, the television still running. Sleepily, Derek reached for the remote and turned it off, before lazily sitting up on the couch. He faintly remembers having the most bizarre dream, only to look up and see the gray blobs from his dream watching him.
Frowning, Derek made up his mind to:
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