I Know That Halloween Was A Week Ago, But I Finally Got Around To Finishing This Story!

I know that Halloween was a week ago, but I finally got around to finishing this story! 

And thanks to @alec789 who made the incredibly hot morph of Tyler Hoechlin / Derek Hale as an actual bodybuilder!

– – –

“You cannot really be expecting me to wear that,” Derek scoffed as he stared daggers at the costume in his boyfriend’s clutches.

“Aww, c’mon, it’ll be fun,” Stiles frowned, already dressed in his costume as some obscure indie superhero, his slender body wearing the sexy costume perfectly, making Derek’s mouth water despite his anger.

He handed the grumpy werewolf a muscleman costume, which consisted of padded, skin-colored fabric that would make the alpha appear even bulkier than he is. Halloween had already passed, so he’d already thought that it was idiotic to go to some costume party. That, and he was irked over the cheap-looking material and the slight insinuation that Stiles didn’t think he was buff enough.

The werewolf had muscles for days that filled out his shirts to the point of bursting, and he’d never heard his boyfriend complain about his physique before. Perhaps it was a slight burn to his fragile ego, but Derek Hale was a bit put off at the idea of wearing fake muscles when he already had some.

Despite wanting to argue, the pleading look in the human’s eyes melted the sourwolf’s resolve and he rolled his eyes as he snatched the muscleman costume away from Stiles.

“Fine,” he growled, pulling the polyester outfit on. The padded muscles made him look ridiculous. He fought a sneer as he stared at himself in the mirror, a tight grimace taking over this face as he saw how large and unnatural his already big muscles now looked. Derek felt like he was some kind of superhero caricature with the impossibly humongous muscles that were beyond the realms of possible. Due to his already bulky size, Derek looked like a bodybuilder, making him cringe at the idea of actually being one of those guys who obsessively worked out in the gym to grow their bodies to grotesque sizes.

“I think you look pretty hot,” Stiles offered, walking up and placing a hand on Derek’s padded shoulder.

The werewolf meant to give Stiles a snarky response, but instead he felt himself flex an arm, the padding bunching up to actually look like he was flexing his bicep. “Makes me look swole, right?” he said, his eyebrows scrunching together at what he’d just said.

Stiles didn’t think anything of it and instead smiled widely up at his boyfriend. “I knew you’d get into it!” he cheered. “The shop owner said that this costume would fit anyone! I tried to get you a cowboy one, but he said that you’d look great in this one. Says he knows you. Small world, right?”

Derek started to piece together what he’d just heard, his wide eyes darting back towards the mirror immediately.

“I gotta use the bathroom and then we’ll be out!” Stiles called out as he left the bedroom.

Some unknown shop owner had persuaded Stiles to buy this costume for him, and apparently he knew him? Derek knew that sounded too coincidental, especially since Beacon Hills seemed to be an epicenter for all things supernatural.

The alpha werewolf frantically reached behind him to unzip the costume and tear it away from him. However, the stud audibly whimpered when his hands ran over where the zipper was supposed to be, only to be met with a smooth patch of skin. Even the edges of the costume had fused with his skin, making it near impossible to discern what was fabric and what was flesh.

“What the fuck?” Derek panicked as he ran his hands all over his body, a shiver running down his spine when he noticed that the padded muscles had started to feel harder, more like actual muscles. That, and he felt the sensation of running his fingers over bare skin, not a costume.

His heart raced in his larger chest as Derek’s eyes ran over his muscled up form. The muscleman costume had somehow fused with his body, effectively turning him into some oversized bodybuilder. The werewolf ran his fingers all over his new form, wincing when he noticed just how limited his range of movement was. His biceps and pecs kept pushing against one another, and his back was so broad that he felt his bulky form sway from side to side when he took a step. His massive trunk-like thighs rolled over each other, turning his walk into a waddle; and he felt his massive, muscular asscheeks shifting and bouncing with every waddle. He was huge— a massive, overinflated bodybuilder.

Stiles came back into the room where Derek was in a silent panic. “Wow, that costume looks really good on you,” he commented, visibly turned on by seeing Derek with such cumbersome pecs. “Like, really good.”

Derek wanted to beg for help, to ask Stiles to help turn him back into his normal body. He didn’t want to be some massive bodybuilder who was so huge that he’d always be the center of attention with his size, never being able to wear regular clothes and always showing off. However, whatever curse the costume had prevented him from doing so. Instead, Derek felt himself throw his almost inflexible arms up into the air to perform a pose.

“Yeah, I love how huge this makes my muscles look,” Derek purred, noting the deeper quality to his voice. “Now let’s get goin’ to that party. I gotta show this hot bod off to everyone.” He bounced his pecs excitedly, both fearful at the thought of being stuck as some cocky bodybuilder, and turned on at the thought of flexing for the smaller human.

Thank you all to have followed and liked my content! I’m to see that other people out there also enjoy TF stories! And I’ve grown addicted to these Voting stories because they’re fun and sometimes I’m not 100% sure what to do to some of these studs, haha!

This is Cooper, a 20 year old college wrestler who’s doing a favor for his roommate by filling in for a model at a magazine shoot. What’s the title of the article?

A). Flamboyant Twinks with Insatiable, Hungry Holes 

B). Hairy Bears who Love to Get Topped by Skinny Guys

C). Muscleboys Addicted to Synthol and Implants

Please cast your vote and I will try to have this story up by Friday or Saturday!

Thank you!

For @writer-ofstuff! It was really fun writing this one! And I’ve been really enjoying writing stories surrounding Derek and Stiles!

– – –

“This is stupid,” Derek grunted as he and Stiles took their seats in the front row, right in front of the wrestling ring. “Everyone knows these things are staged. If you really want to see a good match, then I should take you to a werewolf wrestling match.”

Stiles perked up, clutching his popcorn close to his chest in shock. “They have those?” he gasped, his mouth full of kernels.

Derek just scowled down at the human, his attempt at joking failing. “No,” he muttered, sitting down with his angry expression still all over his face.

“Dude,” Stiles elbowed him in the ribs, “you agreed that I could pick the location for Date Night every Fifth Friday of the month. It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention to the calendar.”

Derek growled something under his breath, but still put his arm around his boyfriend’s slender shoulders, both to comfort him and also because one of the wrestlers was making his way towards the ring, staring at them. He was clad in a black speedo that had blue designs over it.

Derek scowled back and tightened his grip on his blissfully unaware boyfriend, even baring his teeth at the staring wrestler.

The muscled man just smirked and… blew a kiss at Derek?

The alpha werewolf cocked his eyebrow and broke eye contact.

The announcer stepped into the middle of the ring and began his spiel, his deep voice echoing out over the crowd of spectators who cheered wildly. Stiles got caught up in the excitement and leapt to his feet to cheer at the top of his lungs.

“We begin our night with the Tag Team Match!” the announcer roared out, followed by an eruption from the crowd.

Stiles leaned in closer to Derek so that he could explain what was happening to his boyfriend, hoping that he’d enjoy the night too. “So Tag Team is when there’s two versus two… like a team,” he laughed, looking over at his boyfriend to see if he was paying attention.

Derek stood beside him, crossing his arms over his white t-shirt that stretched over his muscular chest.

Stiles looked at him in confusion. “Hey Der, what happened to your leather jacket?” he asked, wondering why the werewolf was wearing only his t-shirt which looked like it was painted on. He even glanced at the seat, seeing no sign of his boyfriend’s jacket in sight.

Derek looked down at his torso and shrugged. “I… I’m not sure,” he muttered, his thick eyebrows knitting together.

The announcer continued. “Introducing our first team! On my right,” he roared out, “we have…”

“I’ve seen this guy before at a match I went to with my dad,” Stiles told Derek. “It was a few years ago and— Um, Derek? D-did you dye your hair?”

Sure enough, Derek’s usual black hair was taking on a light hue, looking like could’ve been dirty blond. There were a ton of laser lights in the building, so Stiles told himself he was seeing things.

The announcer carried on, the first member of one of the tag teams storming into the ring and raising his muscled arms above his head, earning a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Derek straighten up, looking like he was actually starting to get into the show. He smiled to himself, happy to be spending such quality time with his boyfriend. Beacon Hills seemed to be an epicenter for all things supernatural, so on the rare occasions he and Derek got to be a normal couple, he wanted to take full advantage.

He leaned into Derek affectionately. “Thanks for taking me here,” Stiles mused, basking in the warmth he felt when Derek wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The heat from Derek’s bare, smooth skin warmed him up and made him feel at home—

Stiles jerked back and stared at the shirtless and definitely blond Derek in shock and awe.

“Dude!’ Stiles cried, almost dropping his popcorn to the ground, but managing to save it. “Your shirt! And your hair!”

Derek looked down at him, confusion written all over his face. “What about them?” he asked the shocked human, his voice sounding a bit deeper and slower. “You feelin’ okay, Bruh? You look a little pale.”

Stiles knew something was happening, he was certain of it. He scanned the crowd for something or someone who looked out of place. However, it was so dark out in the stands that he couldn’t discern separate faces well, and the announcer was loud as the second member of the first tag team entered the ring.

He clutched Derek’s hand tightly, refusing to let it go. “We gotta get you out of here,” he hissed to the werewolf.

Derek jerked back in shock. “Huh?” he asked. “But why, Babe? We just made it, don’cha wanna see the match?”

“Nevermind that! And why are you talking like that?” Stiles cried out, throwing his free hand up in the air frantically. He then paused when he took in the new change. “And why are you wearing those?”

Derek looked down at the black and pink pair of speedos that he wore. They were so small that they forced his bulge out in front of him and cupped his bubblebutt perfectly, even lifting it to accentuate its fullness. Derek grinned as he looked down at it, smiling at his boyfriend. “Looks hot, right?” he smirked.

The announcer continued to bring out the wrestlers. “And, introducing the second team!” he announced. “The first member, with four wins and zero losses: The Trickster!”

The crowd roared with excitement as a muscled man in black and blue speedos ran up and entered the ring, flexing a large bicep for all to see.

Stiles’s eyes widened as he finally witnessed firsthand Derek’s mysterious transformation. The werewolf tensed up and his muscles inflated. His pecs pushed out further in front of him, his nipples even perking up. His shoulders broadened while his back widened, making Derek so wide that he’d have to turn sideways to walk through any standard-sized door from now on. His butt packed on more meat, his thighs following suit to support the weight of the massive pillows, pushing his large bulge further out in front of himself. Lastly, Derek’s already large biceps ballooned in size, resembling bowling balls. By the end of his musclegrowth, Derek resembled a blond wrestler, his pale skin looking slick as it was somehow getting covered in posing oil, making his abs and every contour of his musculature pop.

“And the last member of the second team,” the announcer roared out, “he’s a newbie! Weighing in at an impressive 248: The Wolf!”

The newly transfigured Derek threw his head back and let out a loud howl, making the crowd erupt in cheers. He yanked Stiles into his oily, muscled body, giving the stunned human a hot, possessive kiss. Despite how deep in shock he was over watching his boyfriend somehow turn into a muscled up wrestler in tight speedos, Stiles couldn’t help but feel so turned on by the feeling of Derek’s rock hard muscles.

He let go and waddled up to the ring, his massive muscled thighs rolling over each other and his broad back swaying back and forth with power. His arms were so thick with muscle that they hung akimbo at his sides. Even though he’d been transformed, the new Derek still had his trademark scowl as he entered the ring and stared down the opposing team intimidatingly before flexing his massive chest muscles, oozing masculine power.

Stiles’s heart picked up speed as he watched his altered boyfriend kick ass in the wrestling ring, noting the look of utter jubilation on the werewolf’s face as he fought. He really looked like he was enjoying their Date Night, although it really wasn’t the way Stiles had intended.

The new wrestler Derek looked over at Stiles, giving him a wink and making one of his inflated pecs bounce.

“Oh hot damn,” Stiles gasped. Yeah, he could live with this.

Wish: I’d love a story about this dude taking some kind of dodgy pill from the internet that makes his already huge ass enormous.

@whatsbrkdld​

– – –

“Good evening everyone!” Brandon smiled as he waved at the camera that was set up on his desk. “Today, we are going to be opening up some fan-mail!”

The fitness influencer grabbed the nearest box to him and held it out in front with his beefy hands. Ever since Brandon had begun posting his workouts online, the stud had amassed quite a sizable fanbase. He had thousands of adoring fans who followed all of his workout plans and who liked all of his posts; however, the stud was also a little aware of the occasional DM from a bit more bold fans who asked for nudes or for private videos of him playing with his ass.

Brandon fought his frown at that last thought. Sure his body was blessed with large muscles that bulged with manly power, but he was a little miffed that no matter what muscle group he worked on, his glutes always seemed to be his largest feature. That only served to attract the wrong kind of crowd, many of whom lusted over the stud’s big butt and brazenly forewent all modesty to let him know. Still, Brandon did appreciate all of the fans he had managed to garner, and now that he hit 400K followers, he wanted to do a fan-mail video to demonstrate his appreciation.

“Let’s see,” he muttered as he examined the small box in his hands. “It doesn’t look like there’s a name on here.” He opened it up, finding nothing but a little plastic bottle labeled Workout Supplements.

Brandon looked all around for any info in the box so that he could properly thank the sender, but he couldn’t find anything.

“Um, thank you!” he said, shaking the bottle of pills in front of the camera. “I’ve actually been looking for some new supplements, so this is perfect.” To reiterate his point, the hunk opened up the bottle and popped in a pink-colored capsule, swallowing down the pill dry.

Brandon continued to open up various boxes and envelopes, thanking his followers for their thoughtful gifts. It didn’t take too long until he squirmed in his seat, feeling a little flushed.

“Uh, sorry, I don’t feel too hot all of a sudden,” the stud mumbled, a tightness forming in his lower body. He stood up to go to the kitchen to grab some water. 

Riiippp!

Brandon’s eyes widened when he heard the sound of his pants tearing and when he felt a cool breeze blow over his ass. The shocked stud looked over his shoulder and gasped at the sight before him. His large, yet manageable, bubblebutt had somehow inflated to at least three times its previous size. It looked like someone had magically affixed beach balls to the fitness guru’s behind as his new cheeks acted like a shelf that jutted away from his back at a near ninety degree angle.

He took a shaky step, wincing internally when he felt the foreign shifting and bouncing of his newly enlarged cheeks with every movement of his foot. His proportions were completely ruined, and Brandon’s heart raced at the knowledge that, without a doubt, his giant ass would be the focus of all of his content from now on, whether he liked it or not.

The bottom-heavy stud was so caught up in his panic that he didn’t see a comment pop up on his chat, far too busy examining his warped reflection in the posing mirror.

Looks like someone got my gift 🍑

Edgars rested on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through emails on his laptop as he tried to stay focused. His inbox was stuffed to the brim with junk from fishy-sounding sponsorships that promised lucrative amounts of money for a few pictures of him barely clothed next to their product.

Edgars rolled his eyes and deleted a majority of the messages he saw.

Then one caught his eye: a message with the title from a semi-familiar company called H-Boost that he’d heard of in passing in the gym. Shrugging his broad shoulders, the muscled hunk clicked on the message.

Edgars frowned when he saw that the text was so tiny that he had trouble even reading a single word. He tried to zoom in on the message with the browser tools, but it didn’t work for some odd reason.

The hunk was about to give up when he saw a little blurb down near the end of the message in bold letters reading: CLICK TO ENLARGE!

He hovered his cursor over the words and clicked.

Thank you for trying out our new product: Pecs-Boost! flashed on the screen for about a second.

The text didn’t enlarge a single bit, but instead Edgars felt what seemed like a massive weight being set down onto his chest. He was confused at first, but gasped loudly when he felt the very unfamiliar sensation of his pecs brushing up against his chin.

“Fuck!” Edgars gasped out loud when he looked down at his body which was blocked by the sight of inflated pecs that ballooned off his chest at an almost comical degree. He tossed his laptop to the side and shot off the bed, nearly tumbling down face first thanks to the added weight to his front. The muscled hunk winced as he stomped over to the bathroom, feeling his chest bounce with every step he took. His biceps even kept grazing his inflated pecs as his arms moved, making his stomach drop.

When he stood in front of the mirror, the stud’s mouth dropped at his warped reflection. His previously proportional physique was gone, replaced by a reflection of a guy who spent too much time doing Chest Day. Edgars’ pecs were massive and jutted off his chest, causing him to have an arch in his posture, which further accentuated the mounds. Even his nipples were bigger and seemed to stand off his pecs at perfect attention. He knew that there wasn’t a shirt on that planet that would cover his enormous chest, making him panic about how he would go through his day-to-day life with such obscene pecs.

As crazy as it sounded to him, Edgars knew that it was the email’s fault that his pecs now resembled small melons. He rushed back into his bedroom and snatched his laptop off the bed, his giant chest making it difficult to hold the machinery in front of him with both hands. 

His hold was so awkward that his fingers accidentally pressed down on the touch pad and a little chime rang out as his eyes widened. The top-heavy man gulped as he realized that he’d mistakenly sent the cursed email to all of his contacts which comprised of fellow muscle models and bodybuilders, all of whom would wind up with exaggeratedly huge pecs like his if they clicked the mysterious link.

(Image Source: https://www.deviantart.com/piuitg/art/Smart-working-2020-846972308)

There’s definitely a fun clothing-themed story in here… but I’m way too sick at the moment to write it. I wanted to share this before I crash, haha!

Write your own captions and let me read them! It’ll be fun to mess with Derek Lunsford… and holy crap! Look how beefy he is!