Derek Was Already A Little Annoyed With Having Been Volunteered By Stiles To Play For The Companys Baseball

Derek was already a little annoyed with having been volunteered by Stiles to play for the company’s baseball team, but when one of the other players starting to comment on his musculature, he was trying his best to swallow his rage.

The player in question looked like one of those stereotypical depictions of steroid-abusing athletes. His large, grotesque muscles strained against the red uniforms of the team and the top few buttons of the team shirt were left undone because they couldn’t close around his bulbous pecs that resembled melons. 

“Maybe we’d be winning and you wouldn’t have struck out if you went to the gym some more,” the meathead said, giving Derek a sideways glance.

The alpha werewolf clenched his jaw, trying his best to ignore the idiot next to him. Yeah, Derek had struck out… but it was only because he’d kept swinging the bat too fast, missing the baseball over and over due to his werewolf speed. 

“I hit a home run,” the muscleman next to him continued, giving his pecs a little bounce. “I guess I got some strength behind my swing.”

“I’ll hit it next time,” Derek grunted, trying not to bare his teeth. Although he knew it was just a silly game, he was feeling miffed at having struck out in front of his entire company… and especially in front of Stiles who had given him a pity-clap when he’d slunk back to the dugout. 

Derek looked over at the bleachers were he saw Stiles happily chowing down on some popcorn. He looked and made eye contact, giving him a small wave.

The other player scoffed. “Not with those puny muscles,” he countered, going so far as to actually reach over and grab a hold of Derek’s fleshy pecs. “Those are hardly there. There’s no power behind you.”

Derek was stunned silent that the other man had had the nerve to grab his chest… which he wanted to argue was muscular, but of course it’d look unimpressive next to the steroid-user’s.

“I got my homerun, and my boyfriend doesn’t complain either,” the man smirked, gesturing at some random dude in the bleachers. This guy waved at the muscle man, using a much more animated wave than Stiles had when he’d waved at Derek.

The werewolf scowled to himself as he looked down at his own chest which did appear a little flat. The man’s groping hands had left a little tingling sensation behind, making Derek’s chest feel like it was buzzing. 

Derek’s team wound up losing, much to the werewolf’s dismay. As he and Stiles drove home, he was silently fuming. Due in part to being a sore loser and the muscleman’s condescending words, Derek kept his lips pursed into a thin line. And he was a little (or a lot) irritated that the muscleman’s boyfriend had given him a larger wave than the one Stiles had given him.

Plus, his chest still tingled uncomfortably to the point of feeling sore, like he’d just completed a killer Chest Day at the gym.

Stiles, trying to cheer up his husband, placed a small hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s just a game,” he meekly offered. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the other team had some werewolves on it too.”

It didn’t; Derek would’ve sniffed them out. “Uh, yeah,” Derek muttered.

They stopped at a red light and Derek looked down at his chest, his frown deep on his face. His baseball uniform was a little baggy and completely obscured his muscles, giving off the illusion that he was thin and weak, whereas the jerk on his team was approaching bodybuilder proportions.

“Hey, um…” he hesitated to say, blush forming on his face, “do you think… uh, don’t laugh. B-but, do you think I have a nice chest?”

Stiles flinched and looked at Derek wide-eyed, not used to seeing his husband act self-conscious. “Of course,” he answered honestly.

The tingling in Derek’s chest began to grow in fervor, almost like there was pressure forming in his pectorals. He shook it off.

“So, you don’t think I need to be bigger?” he continued, avoiding eye contact with Stiles at all costs. The light turned green and he was thankful he had an excuse to watch the road.

Stiles chuckled. “Is this because of Shawn?” he laughed, referring to the muscleman. “I mean, sure that guy has some big pecs, but who cares?”

Derek swallowed the jealous growl that wanted to escape his lips over Stiles talking about the idiot muscleman. The pressure in the chest continued to grow until it seemed as if a bubble burst within him, the tingling dissipating across his pecs.

Pop!

Derek and Stiles both went quiet as the top button on Derek’s baseball uniform popped off, shortly followed by the second. 

“What the—?” Derek wondered aloud as he looked down, his jaw dropping when he saw his own pectorals inflating at a rapid pace. The previously toned pecs ballooned out in front of him, filling out the confines of his shirt and stretching it to the limit. They puffed out and rounded, completely engulfing his neck and forcing him to adjust his arms around them as he drove. The huge pectorals burst out of the top layer of his baseball uniform, leaving him in his red tank top, showing off how top-heavy he now looked. His nipples had even pumped up, looking hard and erect as they protruded off the massive mounds that had become his chest. 

Stiles was silent as he watched his husband’s pecs balloon out, completely warping his toned physique to make him look like a guy who was obsessed with benchpresses. As the car traveled down the road, the rumble of the engine and the little bumps in the asphalt made Derek’s muscletits jiggle and bounce constantly.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Derek panicked, pulling over to the side of the road. He winced as his buff arms kept colliding with his huge pecs as he drove, and how he had to shift his seat back to stop his new muscletits from pressing against the car horn. He looked down at himself, shocked that he couldn’t see anything beyond his new shelf of a chest which blocked the view of his lower body. He could barely make out the tips of his nubby nipples which poked out of the straps of his tank top.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed in awe. “Holy crap! Your pecs are huge!” He reached out with a shaky hand and gave one of the inflated pecs a tentative squeeze.

“Oh shiiiitt,” Derek moaned, his head rolling back and his entire body spasming, which made his giant pecs jiggle even more. His perky nipples were burning now, a sensation he wasn’t used to. 

“Sorry!” Stiles immediately cried as he jerked his hand back. “Did that hurt?”

Derek’s already red face deepened even further. “No… they’re just really sensitive,” he panted, his cock feeling as if it’d burst through his pants simply from having Stiles give his huge chest a squeeze.

Even Stiles was deeply turned on. When Derek had asked him earlier if he’d needed a bigger chest, Stiles had wanted to tell Derek that he would love it if Derek had massive pecs that were disproportionately huge. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings because he’d picked up on how Derek hated Shawn’s guts. However, as he stared at the panting Derek whose inflated muscletits heaved with every breath and whose nipples looked so utterly tweakable, he was getting hard too.

“So,” he said, a devious plan forming in his mind, “you must like it when I do this…”

Stiles reached forward and ran his thin fingers through the wisps of chest hair that covered Derek’s inflated pecs, sending a shudder through the other man.

Derek struggled to form coherent thoughts. He knew that he should be panicking that his pecs had grown to the size of basketballs somehow, and that they were now the most sensitive part on his body. However, all of that turned to mush as his husband groped his larger pecs, causing him to see stars. His cock throbbed with want and the werewolf couldn’t stop but moan loudly from every touch.

“And what about this?” Stiles smirked as he reached down to pinch and toy with Derek’s erect nipples.

“Uuughh!” Derek squealed loudly as he came on the spot, shooting what felt like the largest load in his life. A big wet mark was on the front of his pants, and he blushed again at having gotten off by having Stiles play with his nipples, which used to never be sensitive, but now the man craved it. He knew that he should be panicking and trying to fix whatever had happened to him, but instead he found himself immediately looking forward to Stiles pecfucking him when they got home.

“You know,” Stiles added, “I think your pecs are about twice as big as Shawn’s.”

Arousal radiated off Stiles in waves, and Derek couldn’t help but growl playfully at his husband. “I suppose we gotta go find some shirts that will fit over these,” he chuckled, bouncing each of his muscle mounds, loving the hungry look on his husband’s face.

-- -- --

[Base Photo Source: @bigmusclenm ]

Officer Counihan ticketed a strange guy for speeding, and the next morning when he woke up, his head was hilariously tiny. His squeaky voice and awkward proportions made him humiliated at first. However, the hot cop eventually came to enjoy the way his tiny head made his muscles look all the more bigger by comparison.

"H-hey, what kind of chemicals are in the pool? My chest feels funny... and heavier..."

Derek scowled in the mirror as he examined his new muscled body. Although his previous form had been sculpted, his new body was now officially massive, making him look like a competitive bodybuilder. His pecs protruded far off his chest and his arms were so thick that they rested akimbo atop flaring lats. His thighs were so round and thick with muscle that they transformed his strut into a waddle.

The alpha werewolf inwardly cursed, berating himself for asking for Peter’s help when it came to the unending threats to his territory.

“What’s wrong, Derek?” Peter smirked from the other side of the room, crossing his arms over his own impressive, yet way smaller than Derek’s, chest. “You asked me to make you stronger, and I did just that.”

Derek gave the older werewolf one of his classic glares, puffing out his thick chest with power to try and intimidate him. “Yes,” he spat, malice dripping in his voice, “you did make me bigger... but, did you also have to make me smaller?!”

He moved a barely-flexible arm towards the tiny bulge that was covered up by his posers. Traveling down his washboard stomach, the way his waist pinched inwards before flaring out at his thighs brought the eye’s attention directly to his front. Since his massive thighs were constantly pressed against one another, they thrusted his bulge forward, highlighting just how tiny it looked when compared to the rest of his bulky frame.

And it wasn’t just due to comparisons, as Derek had initially thought when the power spell had been cast. He’d believed that it was an optical illusion due to how thick and muscular he’d became, but the very second he’d taken his boyfriend, Stiles, to the bedroom to explore his new bodybuilder frame together, he’d nearly passed out at the pathetic two inch nub and cherry tomato-sized balls that had replaced his formerly girthy package. It was a tiny cock that would look ridiculously small on anyone, let alone a massive championship-sized bodybuilder. What was worse was that, due to his massive body, all of his clothes were rendered skintight, showing off the flat front of his jeans, painfully illustrating how tiny the muscleman was.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. “I told you there were side effects,” he hummed. “I could turn you back to your regular body. But that wouldn’t guarantee that your dick would return to normal size.”

Derek paled at his two options:

1. Have his normal proportions, except with his eight inches stuck as a measly two.

2. Be a three-hundred pound bodybuilder with massive muscles... and a tiny cocklet.

“I’ll keep the muscles,” Derek growled as he waddled off towards his and Stiles’s room, annoyed at the fact that he was painfully hard from feeling his massive bulk rubbing up against itself. However, thanks to the pathetic size of his nub, it barely tented out his posers at all.

Happy Birthday Tyler Hoechlin!

September 11th— Actor Tyler Hoechlin’s birthday!

The hunky actor sauntered about his house, dressed up in his new suit so that he could go attend a birthday function that his management was making him go to. Tyler huffed a little bit as he adjusted his tie, gazing at the form-fitting suit that made him look akin to 007, oozing masculine sex appeal. He’d even let his stubble grow out to complete his manly look which would be sure to get him tons of attention and interviews where he’d have the opportunity to promote his projects.

Tyler yawned loudly, already tired at the night’s events. Of course he loved being a world famous actor with scores of adoring fans. However, he was sort of just wanting to relax at home for his birthday, lounging out on the couch to just watch some TV and play video games. Maybe he’d invite Dylan O’Brien over; his old costar from Teen Wolf was in the area, filming some new movie. The two of them had said that they’d connect sometime, but with their busy schedules, they haven’t had the chance to yet.

“Alright,” Tyler sighed as he checked the Rolex on his thick wrist, “time for a long night.” He sighed again, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the motion, making his tight suit which was designed to show off his impressive musculature, shift too. 

As he walked towards the front door, he paused when he saw a pastel pink box sitting on the counter.

The stud cocked a confused eyebrow and walked over to it, examining the unmarked box. He flipped open the lid and saw that it was a simple, chocolate frosted cake with pink writing that spelt out in curvy letters: Happy Birthday Tyler!

Tyler couldn’t help the smile that stretched out his handsome face, genuinely touched at the kind gesture. There wasn’t a card or note to let him know who had gifted him the birthday cake, but he guessed that it was probably his new assistant who was still really nice and hadn’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.

The mouthwatering aroma of cocoa reached the man’s nostrils, and Tyler’s stomach gurgled with want as he stared at the delectable dessert.

“Damn,” he muttered, desperately wanting to have a quick slice, but with the party/advertisement in a few minutes, he couldn’t afford to eat any carbs that would disrupt his chiseled physique in his custom tailored suit.

Still, a little frosting wouldn’t hurt.

Tyler swiped up some chocolate frosting on his finger, popping it into his mouth with a deep moan.

“Mmmm!” Tyler moaned at the sweet, sugary taste of the frosting as he eagerly sucked his finger clean, leaving no trace behind. His tastebuds were alight with craving want, and his stomach growled loudly, demanding another taste.

Before manifesting the thought, Tyler felt his hand move down to the cake again, swiping up a much larger dollop of frosting this time, and greedily shoving it into his mouth. The sugary taste of the frosting was so delicious and all-consuming that it was all Tyler could do to remove his expensive suit jacket before slamming himself against the counter.

With both hands, and without a moment’s hesitation, Tyler Hoechlin grabbed handfuls of the chocolate cake, shoveling it into his mouth. The cake itself was just as sweet as the frosting, eliciting the same desperation and intense cravings.

Tyler’s moans filled out his house as he ate the entire pastry, unable to stop himself. The realization over this fact made his eyes widen as he tried to stop his large hands from scooping the cake into his mouth. He strained his muscles as hard as he could, but was powerless under whatever cryptic control the dessert had over him. He was aware of how wrong it was for him to be devouring an entire cake by himself, hunched over it like a pig, but he couldn’t stop.

“What’s happening to me?!” Tyler panicked between mouthfuls of food, his heart starting to race as he was about halfway finished with the cake, his clothes suddenly feeling tighter.

The legs of his slim-fit pants felt snugger by the second, especially on his thighs. The seat of them were growing tighter and tighter, so much that Tyler’s fear was commingled with an odd sense of relief when there was a loud rip followed by a release of pressure. The frazzled actor couldn’t even stop his body from gobbling up the cake long enough to look over a broad shoulder to assess the damage to his pants.

However, Tyler’s fear spiked when there was a pop, followed by the  light clattering of his shirt buttons falling onto the floor. It was then that he registered the extreme tightness of his shirt and the odd way he felt his stomach pressing against the counter in a way it never had before.

The actor gasped as best as he could with a mouth full of cake when he looked down and saw a large gut protruding from his opened shirt in place of where a set of cut abs should have been. No matter how panicked the stud was over his growing mass, he still couldn’t prevent himself from finishing off the rest of the chocolate cake, his stomach continuing to growl as he chewed the last bits.

“What… the… fuck?!” Tyler gasped as soon as he was finished with the dessert, the lingering taste of chocolate still consuming his mouth, making his sense of hunger swell and become almost unbearable.

Tyler shoved himself away from the counter, wincing when he felt his new gut jiggle with the movement. The actor rushed to the bathroom, his large gut dropping the second he looked in the mirror.

His handsome face looked almost the same, only it wasn’t as thin and his cheeks looked fuller. His shoulders appeared to be slightly broader, but it was just due to the thick layer of fat that now covered his muscular form. With a shaky hand, Tyler reached up with a heavy arm and poked at his shoulder, his heart racing when he felt a soft and squishy body as opposed to hard. His hairy pecs were still big, but they lost some of their definition, rounding out a bit as they drooped downward slightly. They weren’t full on moobs, but they were not the toned pectorals that he was used to, and there was no way he could fit the mounds that were capped with enlarged, nubby nipples into his Superman costume. Even his arms had packed on size, his new fat shrouding his muscular definition— the same happened with his widened thighs which now pressed together, causing his saunter to look more like a waddle. His pants had completely torn to shreds during his transformation, leaving the shocked actor in his red underwear which were strained to bursting over the large, meaty globes that had replaced his pert bubble butt. 

But worse of all for Tyler was the large, jiggling gut that jutted away from his torso at a severe angle and blocked his view of his lower half. The hairy mass was so large that Tyler had no idea how long he’d have to work out and diet in order to get his old physique back, annoyed that his stomach was still growling hungrily.

“H-how is this possible?” he mumbled in shock as he gave the fuzzy mass a tentative poke, immediately regretting it as that simple touch sent darts start to his cock. Tyler paled as he was rock hard from touching his large gut, his cock springing out of his underwear and bobbing in the air. However, the actor was irritated when he looked downward, his eight inch cock completely hidden underneath his massive gut.

Tyler Hoechlin had no idea what he was going to do with a massive bear-like body, looking like he had a dad bod except with a significantly larger belly. He knew that he couldn’t fit in his Superman costume at all, and his reprisal of Derek Hale in the Teen Wolf Movie was going to be difficult since this character didn’t have a large hairy, sensitive gut!

In a huff, Tyler waddled over to the scale and stepped on it, having to bend over in order to see the bright red letters: 342 lbs.

Tyler stumbled a little in shock, his gut bouncing wildly with his jerking motions. He grabbed onto the bathroom counter to steady himself, shocked that he’d magically gained 170 pounds just from eating a mysterious cake, nearly doubling his bodyweight… most of it apparently centered on his massive gut.

“What the fuck am I going to do with this thing— uh!” Tyler moaned as he grabbed at his gut in frustration, his cock throbbing at the touch, making him roll his head back. His hunger grew even more and his stomach growled louder.

Ding Dong! the doorbell sounded out.

Tyler was jostled out of his shock from his inflation, his heart racing in his larger chest. Given the small size of his house, he was able to lean out of the bathroom doorway and shout out.

“Wh-who is it?” he yelled, his voice cracking with nerves.

“It’s Dylan!” Dylan O’Brien called out from the other side of the front door. 

Tyler paled at the thought of someone seeing him in his inflated, bulky form. However, a growing part of him was getting a little excited over his past costar visiting him, his cock throbbing with desire at the thought.

“Your assistant told me come over for your birthday!” Dylan called out when Tyler didn’t answer. “I brought cake!”

At the same exact second, Tyler’s stomach growled and his cock leaked precum. He hurriedly rushed towards his room, ignoring his new bulk bouncing as he ran and the loud thuds his feet made. “Come in!” he called over his broadened shoulder. “I have to throw something on!”

Tyler rushed into his bedroom, frantically tearing through his closet as he tried to find some loose clothes that he could fit in. He found some basketball shorts that looked more like spandex as it stretched around his big booty and widened thighs. His shirt, which was XL, was way too small, and the actor groaned as he struggled to fit it over his inflated pecs. Once he had the tight blue fabric on, his nubby nipples poked conspicuously against the cotton and the bottom kept bunching up over his hairy gut. No matter how many times Tyler tried to pull it down over his protruding stomach, the shirt kept popping back up, leaving his jiggling bear gut on perfect display.

After taking a deep breath, Tyler waddled out to the living room where Dylan waited, his face cherry red over how much his hairy gut bounced when he walked. Once he laid eyes on the much smaller actor, his cock throbbed painfully with want. And once he spotted the pink box Dylan held, his stomach growled loudly, sounding more like an animal.

Dylan looked over at the inflated Tyler, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he took in the sheer size of the man. “Whoa!” he gasped. “Tyler! Y-you, uh, you look good.”

Tyler blushed as he looked down at his inflated self, holding his heavy arms out in jest. “Yeah, I’ve been bulking up for a role,” he laughed. He gestured towards the couch. “Come sit down. Let’s eat some of that cake.”

Dylan shrugged and happily sat down on the tiny sofa.

Tyler sat down beside him, his new weight causing the furniture to groan loudly. He winced as he felt his new gut settle in his lap, and the large weight discrepancy between him and Dylan caused the couch cushion to dip wildly. The tilt caused Dylan to nearly tumble over, being pressed tightly against Tyler’s bulky body.

“Oh, sorry Man!” Dylan blushed as he tried to sit up off of the other man, placing a hand down on Tyler’s hairy gut to steady himself.

“Oohh!” Tyler moaned as soon as Dylan touched his sensitive gut, arching his back and shoving his inflated belly into the other man’s touch. Dylan’s slender fingers traveling through the fur that covered it was like an electric wire, sending shocks of electricity straight to his hard cock that was still hidden under his tummy.  Tyler curled his toes and rolled his head back.

Dylan paused for a second before smirking. “You like belly rubs?” he teased. He continued to caress Tyler’s new gut, running his hands underneath the hair that coated it, which acted like little sensors that only increased its hypersensitivity.

“Y-yeah!” Tyler stuttered, squirming helplessly underneath the smaller man’s touch. He knew that he should be panicking over his massive weight gain, and wondering why he was suddenly so attracted to another guy. But his mind was turned to mush as his cock throbbed with every touch that his new gut brought him. In his lust-fueled haze, Tyler reached up and tore his useless shirt away from his bulk, exposing his huge hairy pecs.

Dylan took the message and reached over with his other hand, squeezing his inflated chest. His hands brushed over Tyler’s nubby nipples, turning the inflated stud into a moaning mess.

“D-don’t stop!” Tyler begged, feeling like putty as he squirmed, his entire bulk incredibly sensitive. He pictured himself on the sets of his TV shows in his new form. He could easily play Superman, just looking extra thicc as a superhero with a rotund gut and nubby nipples that poke through the skintight costume. And his character Derek Hale would look insanely hot with his large gut protruding through the opening of his trademark leather jacket. And if he could convince Dylan to give him more belly rubs, Tyler wouldn’t really mind if he kept his new gut… or if it got bigger.

Tyler let out a low, bellowing moan as he came, his untouched cock shooting globs of cum in his underwear. The inflated man had never came so much in his life, leaving him panting as he struggled to catch his breath, his huge gut heaving up and down as he gasped.

“Holy shit,” Tyler panted. “That was hot.”

“Sure was,” Dylan agreed. “Now what do you say we make that belly of yours a little bigger?” He held up the pink box, his smile growing when Tyler’s stomach growled.

Tyler snatched the cake out of the box, going to town, shoveling it into his mouth with one hand while keeping his other tightly secured around the smaller guy, keeping him tightly against his squishy belly.

“Happy birthday, Tyler,” Dylan laughed, rubbing Tyler’s inflated gut lovingly, enjoying the resulting moan and noticing that it was steadily growing larger and larger… 

Stiles had a huge problem.

The slender human stood in the middle of Derek’s loft, eying both the sourwolf and his cocky uncle, both of the werewolves demanding that he finally choose one of them to be his mate.

Normally Stiles scoffed at the idea of love triangles, believing that they were just a horrible teen romance novel trope, yet there he was: stuck between deciding between Derek and Peter. And, unfortunately, it was not an easy choice to make.

Derek was closer to his age, and he was the classic brooding hunk who rarely smiled. His body was blessed with muscles and he had this smoldering look that melted Stiles’s heart. And, he’d even seen his cock once, and dare he say it, it was impressive. The two of them had been on the same side through multiple supernatural excursions. Although Derek was much more guarded, he’d eventually began to make it known that he wanted the human, starting out subtly by casually brushing up against him, to more brazenly by sneakily holding his hand while at pack meetings.

Then there was Peter, who was older and much more experienced. His lean muscle was extremely attractive, as was the slight grays that were starting to appear in his sideburns. Peter also had some chest hair and his worldly knowledge and the way he was completely domineering made him ooze “Daddy”. And Stiles was definitely into that as well. Plus Peter was much more direct in his want for the younger man. Whereas Derek preferred a subtle approach, the older werewolf preferred to be much more direct, such as surprising Stiles late at night by lying on his bed in nothing… absolutely nothing, allowing his hard cock to be presented. And that was impressive too.

Therefore, Stiles stood in the middle of the loft, looking between the expectant Peter and Derek as they both stared him down, waiting for his answer. Derek had his buff arms crossed in front of his large chest, his pecs stretching the fabric of his shirt to the limit. Then Peter eyed Stiles in a cocky manner that said, “I’m waiting”, and Stiles couldn’t help but drool over the wisps of manly chest hair that creeped out of his deep v-neck.

“Um,” Stiles stalled, still incredibly torn between the two men before him. He was sympathetic and understood their frustration, yet he was also deeply conflicted between them. He wanted Derek, and he wanted Peter. It was not as simple as pointing at one of them and writing off the other. “I’m sorry, guys. I know it’s annoying, but I really can’t choose between the two of you.”

Derek gave one of his characteristic sighs, even rolling his eyes. “If you need some time to think about it, then I guess that’s fine,” he growled under his breath, obviously growing impatient.

“Or,” Peter smirked, “maybe I could help you make up your mind?” He hold out his arms, showcasing the tight t-shirt he wore which seemed to be painted onto his lean musculature.

Derek directed his quiet growl at his uncle, who bared his canine teeth in response. Both of the hunky werewolves growled at each other, trying to intimidate the other into backing out of their courting of Stiles, all the while the human awkwardly shuffled his feet.

“Dammit,” Stiles cursed to himself. “I just wish that there was a way I could choose the both of you.”

At that moment, Derek launched towards Peter, his teeth bared and his claws protruding. Peter leapt forward as well. However, the crash that Stiles was expecting didn’t come. Instead, Derek’s muscular body slammed into Peter’s older and leaner one, the action resulting in an something more akin to two liquids meeting.

Stiles’s eyes widened when he saw what looked like Peter’s slimmer body being swallowed by Derek’s larger one. Derek looked shocked and Peter let out a surprised gasp as they witnessed their bodies merging together. It seemed as if Derek’s body was taking Peter’s into his own, both of their bulk combining and forming a much larger form. Derek’s already large muscles took in Peter’s toned ones, growing in size to the point where his biceps inflated the smallest bit and his pecs puffed out a little more, even having Peter’s chest hair grow out over them. Their clothes even merged together, leaving Peter’s classic deep v-neck shirt being covered by Derek’s black leather jacket, their blue jeans looking the same yet containing a much, much larger bulge in the front of them. Lastly, Derek and Peter’s head smashed into each other, molding together for a brief second before forming a brand new visage. This new face had Derek’s eyebrows and serious eyes, yet it also had Peter’s cocky smirk and the little lines indicating his maturity. Peter’s stylized hairstyle took on Derek’s black hair color with some little grays at the sideburns, and Derek’s manly stubble grew out over Peter’s square jaw.

Finally, before Stiles stood a muscular, taller man who had traits belonging to both Derek and Peter. It did however take Stiles a second to realize that this brand new man before him had one eye being Derek’s alpha red while the other was Peter’s beta blue, letting him know that although it seemed impossible, both men were in this new form before him.

The newly merged Derek/Peter used both of his larger, muscled arms to feel around his new body in awe, a shocked look on his handsome face. “Wha-what?” he wondered aloud in his deep, manly voice that had Derek’s baritone and Peter’s cocky inflection. “What just happened?” He looked up at Stiles in wonder and confusion, taking an uneasy step forward, trying to get the hang of having two minds controlling one body that contained both of their strength and musculature.

Stiles was stunned silent for once. His jaw hung low and his eyes were wide as saucers. “Holy crap,” he finally breathed as he watched the merged werewolves stumble around in their shared body, deeply turned on by the way the new guy’s large hairy pecs strained against Peter’s shirt and how Derek’s leather jacket struggled to contain the broadened shoulders. Best of all was how tight the pants were, showcasing the nearly foot long cock that snaked down the guy’s beefy thigh.

Derek/Peter looked up at Stiles, shock and horror over his new face. “Stiles!” he gasped. “We have to figure out a way to fix this— No! Wait!— What? Are you crazy?”

The poor human felt like he was going to get an aneurism watching the merged werewolves argue with one another in their shared body, each one fighting for control over the other.

“This might sound weird, but if we stay this way, then there’s no need for one of us to lose him!” the merged man said, his broad shoulders relaxing the slightest bit.

Stiles didn’t know which wolf offered the idea, but he could see the conflict the other one had as the new man scrunched up his face before briefly glancing at Stiles, a small, shy smile forming on his face.

“Do… d-do, uh, do you you think you can deal with this?” Derek/Peter asked quietly, holding out his buff arms to showcase his muscled-up, shared body.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess Stiles’s answer, especially after he took one more look at the monster cock that the merged werewolves had. “Absolutely,” he gasped.

The new man rushed forward and took Stiles into his arms, and Stiles marveled at how the man held him with a combination of Derek’s gentle caution and Peter’s aggressive passion, seemingly the best of both worlds. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Stiles’s, growling happily.

“We can deal with this too,” Derek/Peter agreed, nuzzling their mate with glee.

“So… do I call you Deter or Perek?” Stiles asked.