31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 10: Bear

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Derek and Peter Hale groaned as they waddled off the beach towards their car.

Just moments before, the two werewolves had been toned men researching some strange disappearances in the area. Locals would say that men would go and visit the infamous Bear Beach, only to be never heard from again.

Peter winced at the odd feeling of his beefy arms resting atop his lats. “I’m just saying, Almighty Alpha,” he sneered in Derek’s direction, “that maybe there’s a reason the place was called Bear Beach.”

Derek just grunted, not used to the way his rotund, hairy belly jiggled with every step he took. “I thought it was just a name…” he grumbled under his breath, a growl barely detectable.

Peter scoffed and gestured back towards the shore where loads of beefy hairy men lumbered around clumsily, as if they were learning how to walk. “That didn’t tip you off?” he huffed. He wanted to argue more, but instead tensed up as a slight breeze wafted over the two of them, his chest hair being billowed by it.

Derek gritted his teeth as he tried his best to ignore the tingling the breeze caused on his nubby nipples, making his cock start to stir in his tattered shorts.

The very second Derek and Peter had stepped foot on the elusive Bear Beach, they’d immediately felt themselves beginning to change. The first thing the werewolves noticed was the way their jaws had sprouted thick beards, soon followed by hair covering the rest of their bodies— especially their chests. Before either of them could even think to get away from the beach, both of their bodies exploded with flesh. Muscles inflated, but were quickly engulfed by a thick layer of fat that seemed to be centered on their new guts. Their shirts had ripped to shreds, showcasing their massive, pillowy pecs that were capped with large and sensitive nipples. However, their big bellies seemed to be the focus of their growth, making it look as if both of the werewolves had swallowed yoga balls. Derek and Peter’s guts protruded out in front of them, obscuring the view of their own lengthened cocks that dangled crazily as their widened thighs rolled over each other with every step. Even their backs had widened as their large arms puffed up, giving each man a roundish, yet muscular, appearance.

The two werewolves had been turned into total bears simply by stepping foot on Bear Beach.

As soon as the shock of their transformation wore off, Derek and Peter were alerted to the fact that every other man on the beach seemed to share their shocked expressions— all of them looking down at their own massive, hairy form in confusion.

Now the two bear werewolves waddled back to their car, trying to get the hang of moving around with large thighs constantly colliding with one another.

“We need to figure out a way to fix this,” Peter grunted as he poked at his big belly. “I don’t think any of my designer shirts will fit.”

“You poor thing,” Derek snorted, freezing as soon as he heard a loud rip and his shorts finally gave way to his thickened lower half.

The tattered fabric fell to the ground, revealing the alpha’s thickened cock that was at least nine inches and about as thick as a soda can. Not to be outdone, his large hairy ass had ballooned to an exaggerated size, looking like two fuzzy basketballs were strapped to his back.

“Damn it!” Derek roared as he stomped his foot in frustration, flinching as the movement sent a ripple through his massive butt, gut, and pecs. He blushed like crazy. “L-let’s just get out of here.”

The bears lumbered towards Derek’s Camaro, but they had a hard time squeezing their unwanted bulk inside.

Peter, being the smaller of the two, had an easier time, but he still struggled. He wasn’t used to the feeling of having a large gut resting on his lap when he sat down, and he was annoyed at the way his seatbelt completely disappeared between the crevice of his hairy pecs.

Derek had a much harder time. It took all of his cunning to wedge himself into the driver’s seat. He had to shove the seat all the way back, and even at its furthest, his furry belly still pressed against the steering wheel a little bit. Whenever he gulped in a large breath of air, his gut would push out slightly and tap the horn, making him cringe. Worse was that whenever he turned the wheel, his beefy arms would brush against his nubby nipples, making him stifle a moan. It was obviously that his bulk turned him on despite himself, as his humongous cock stiffened and began to bob out at an angle due to his large belly.

“Hopefully Stiles can figure out a way to fix us,” Peter moaned, squirming in his seat as the car’s A/C blew over his mountainous pecs, feeling like someone was running their fingers through his chest hair.

“Yeah,” Derek grunted as he accidentally jostled a nipple again, “…or maybe we can squish him between our bellies first?”

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 13: Clown

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Derek practically whimpered like a wolf pup as he watched his husband, Stiles, slowly slump to the couch. The usually vibrant and cheerful human had been going through some hardships at work, and it’d really affected his mood; thus, the normally smiley and singsongy Stiles was all gray and sulky. The alpha werewolf frowned as he saw Stiles’s thin shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

On a normal day, Derek was the grumpy one, mad at the world and scowling at every living creature that dared to cross his path; and Stiles would be his anchor, calming him down with a simple kiss on the cheek or by placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. Now that the roles were evidently reversed, Derek was struggling to find out the right things to do/say, empathy never really being one of his strong suits.

“Babe?” Derek asked as he walked over to the couch and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he would’ve done had the roles been swapped. “Um… have you tried not thinking about it?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he rubbed at his temples, making Derek feel guilty.

Derek flinched and quickly tried to make things better. “Got a headache?” he asked, already dashing to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some Ibuprofen!”

As Derek leaned over the sink, images of his sad husband kept replaying in his mind, making him grimace. He felt guilty for not being able to cheer up Stiles like he would do for him whenever he was moody. He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless and, what was worse, was that whenever he felt like this, it was usually Stiles who convinced him of otherwise with a little corny joke.

Derek loved his husband with all of his heart, and it pained him to see Stiles sad. He missed his smile, he missed his laugh.

“Damn it,” Derek cursed under his breath, “I wish I could cheer him up.”

The second the words left his mouth, Derek felt a shudder ripple through him. The sensation morphed into an odd tingling that consumed his whole body before fading, but not before being reduced to a tickle that actually made Derek laugh.

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his normal throaty chuckle sounding more like a cartoonish wail that was comically deep. The werewolf jerked back and cleared his throat, wondering why he’d just laughed like that.

He shook it away and opened up the mirror cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen for Stiles, gasping when he saw his reflection after closing it.

His normally jet-black hair was green! Derek dropped the small pills in shock as he ran a shaky hand through his green hair, his eyes wide at the vibrant color that would without a doubt, draw a lot of attention his way. 

“What’s, *giggle, wrong with my hair— Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek laughed again. This time, he finally realized that he’d been smiling the entire time. Although he was confused and slightly panicked over what was happening to him, his face looked alight with zeal. His pearly whites were on full display, which brought about something new to him. Derek had always had larger front teeth, Stiles sometimes referring to them as Bunny Teeth, but his eyes widened when he saw them grow in size until they protruded over his bottom lip, effectively giving him over-exaggerated buck teeth.

Derek barely had time to react to his large teeth before he witnessed his nose shudder. Its skin reddened drastically until it looked cherry red, even taking on a shimmery sheen. It then steadily inflated, rounding out until Derek had a red clown nose affixed to his face.

“I look ridiculous!” Derek giggled, still grinning widely despite his inner panic.

The altered werewolf’s first thought was to rush to Stiles, knowing that his husband would figure out what was happening to him. Derek quickly hurried out of the bathroom, stumbling over his feet as he moved. Derek’s eyes widened even further when he witnessed his feet elongating past their usual size thirteen, growing comically huge with large stumpy toes capping them. 

With each step he took, Derek’s new feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floors and he struggled to maintain his balance. His gait resembled someone more clumsy, struggling to walk a straight line. He kept bouncing against the walls, knocking over pictures and causing a ruckus as he moved.

With a loud giggle, Derek waddled into the living room where Stiles moped. His husband took one look at him and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Der?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Instead of asking for help, Derek heard himself laugh, “Hyuck! Hyuck! I heard that there’s someone who’s a little down!” He cringed at how he was acting, this cheery clown attitude a direct contrast with his usual self.

Stiles just stared blankly ahead. “Huh?”

“Want a balloon?” Derek happily asked. “I got a real big one for you!”

With large, flailing motions, Derek searched all around his clothes. His busy show wouldn’t allow him to display his shock over the bright neon colors that his black clothes had been magically dyed to. Derek felt as if he were a passenger in his own body, hearing himself speak and feeling himself move, but he didn’t have any control. He was helpless as he behaved like some sugary sweet clown, unable to stop smiling and giggling the entire time.

When Derek couldn’t find a balloon, he frowned before perking up with an a-ha motion. Pursing his lips and whistling through his large buck teeth, he unzipped his now bright yellow pants and let them fall to the ground. 

He exaggeratedly gasped as he looked down at his soft cock, grabbing at his green hair. “Oh no!” he chirped. “You don’t want that small balloon!” 

He winced at calling himself small, but then flinched when he saw the corner of Stiles’s mouth slowly pull upward. Seeing Stiles doing so sent a fluttering feeling through Derek’s chest, and he started to feel a little excited, his panic steadily fading.

Derek felt himself stick his thumb in his mouth and take in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He then puffed out his cheeks and acting like he was blowing air into himself, pausing every so often to take a deep breath.

Stiles let out a little chuckle.

Derek felt himself perk up, his cock instantly rocketing to attention. It swelled up and stood out in front of him. Derek dropped his thumb from his mouth and gestured towards his hard cock.

“Ta-da!” he cheered, puffing his chest back out and setting his hands onto his hips proudly as he pushed his hips forward so that his rock hard member was closer to his husband.

Finally, Stiles’s face broke out into a loud smile and he started to laugh.

At seeing his husband finally laughing and being able to see his beautiful smile again, Derek’s cock throbbed and began to leak precum. His own smile was back in full force.

“Oh, thank you, Der,” Stiles cooed as he sat up and gave his husband a big hug. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his face blushing wildly as Stiles kissed his cheek lovingly. Seeing the love of his life smiling again, Derek figured that as long as it made his husband happy, he was fine with being a werewolf clown.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 11: Pup

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Derek wasn’t in control. He couldn’t help it.

The alpha werewolf had no clue what was happening, but the second he heard his husband, Stiles, walk in the front door after getting off from work, he felt a surge of excitement and utter jubilation. Of course Derek loved this husband and was always happy to see him, but this was to a new extreme— almost inhuman.

“I’m home!” Stiles called out.

At the sound of his husband’s voice, Derek’s heart raced and he dropped the TV remote and felt his body crash down to the floor on all fours. Before Derek could wonder what he was doing, he felt his limbs scamper out of the living room and towards the entryway. Inwardly, he panicked, unable to stop crawling on all fours or even stand up. Whenever he’d try to, he’d fall back down onto hands and knees, forced down like a dog.

The second his panicked eyes landed on Stiles, though, Derek’s trepidation vanished.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek cheerfully barked and he sprinted towards his husband. He rushed forward and managed to stand up on his feet— well, more like he leaned his top half against the smaller man, again, akin to how a dog jumps on their master. Unable to contain his joy at seeing the other man, Derek leaned forward and licked his husband’s face all over like a puppy.

“Derek, what are you…” Stiles trailed off, looking confused as the werewolf licked him. His eyebrows scrunched together, and his brain tried to tell him that something was wrong, that Derek was acting different. But as the excited mandog continued to give him kisses, he brushed the feeling away and couldn’t help but laugh.

At this sound, Derek couldn’t help but bellow out another, “Woof!” He blushed when he felt his bubblebutt jiggle a little as he wiggled his hips to and fro, almost as if he’d had a tail. Worse was that no matter how hard he tried to, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Okay, Derek, down,” Stiles laughed as he gently pushed against the eager man.

Derek put all fours back down again at the command, his blush deepening. He had no idea what was happening, but a part of him hoped that Stiles could figure out a way to help him. He opened his mouth to ask for help.

“Hrrmm, woof!” Derek barked, his eyes widening. “Woof! Woof!” His deep voice sounded the same, but no matter how hard he tried, Derek couldn’t put together a sentence. His words were reduced to barks and yips, making him let out a loud whimper.

Stiles hung up his coat and turned back to the crawling Derek. “Aww,” he frowned exaggeratedly, “what is it, Der? You want some pets?”

Inwardly, Derek bristled at the way his husband was talking to him, as if he were his pet. However, his body perked up and he wiggled his hips even more. “Woof!” he excitedly barked, so into it that his hands lifted off the ground with the movement.

Letting out a chuckle, Stiles leaned down and scratched behind Derek’s ear.

The feeling was incredible and Derek leaned further into it, barely noticing the way his leg shook. The sensation of Stiles’s hands on him was intoxicating, and his canine mind craved more.

Derek flopped over onto the floor and rolled over onto his back, his arms hanging out awkwardly in front of himself as he presented his hairy chest to Stiles. Derek looked up at the other man expectantly, despite inwardly screaming at himself to stop.

“Aww, good boy!” Stiles cooed as he gave Derek a belly rub.

Instantly, Derek felt his cock rocket to life, slipping out of his boxers and bobbing out in the air. He couldn’t believe that he was acting like a dog, getting a belly rub from his husband. But he couldn’t deny that he loved it. Something about the way Stiles’s hands ran over his body was purely orgasmic, and the werewolf craved more. Every hairy crevice of his muscled chest was felt up by Stiles, and when his fingers ran over his hard nipples, Derek was pushed over the edge.

“Arroooo!” he howled as he came, his cum shooting up into the air and landing all over his pecs. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, feeling as if he’d just blown the largest load of his life.

Stiles stood up. “Let me change and then we’ll go for walkies,” he said as he walked up the stairs.

Alone, Derek’s mind finally cleared enough for him to start to freak out over what was happening to him. Gritting his teeth, he tried with all of his strength to stand up or speak, but it was futile. Finally giving up on that, he crawled around the downstairs, shocked to see that the house had changed. There was now a dog bowl in the kitchen with DEREK printed on it in large, blocky letters. Unable to help himself, Derek crawled over to the water bowl next to it and lapped up some water noisily, splashing liquid all over the hardwood floor in the process. He leaned up, his face cherry red at his actions, but his thirst satisfied at least. 

Scampering into the living room, Derek winced at the large dog bed in the corner along with the rubber toy in the shape of a bone.

The mere second Derek’s eyes landed on the toy, his heart began to race and he couldn’t help but rush over and happily take the toy in his mouth. Whenever he tightened his jaw on it, it let out a loud squeak, further exciting the werewolf even more. He happily thrashed his head around, loving the squeaking from his chew toy.

“Ready?” Stiles asked, interrupting his play time as he walked down the stairs in more comfortable clothes.

Derek cocked his head to the side and dropped the toy from his mouth, humiliated beyond belief. He was used to be a boasting and powerful alpha, not some damn puppy! Still, as Stiles grabbed the leash off the rack, Derek scampered forward eagerly.

“Sit,” Stiles said as he held out the black, studded collar. There was a small sliver tag on it that read out: Derek, along with Stiles’s phone number.

Derek immediately sat like a dog and straightened his torso as best as he could. He puffed out his chest muscles with pride, loving the way Stiles looked over him. He was such a good guard dog— no, wait, he didn’t mean that.

Stiles put the collar on Derek and attached the leash, barely having time to open up the door before Derek excitedly bolted out. 

The smell of the fresh air and the sounds of the birds chirping was so much, and Derek couldn’t help but whip his head around to take in all the senses. He loved the bright colors of the cars that zoomed by, and he couldn’t help but preen at how Stiles walked in line with him. Derek’s tongue happily lolled out of his mouth as he walked.

The two of them came to an intersection, and without thinking, Derek sat down and looked upwards at Stiles.

Stiles looked left and right before nodding down at Derek, the werewolf standing back up on all fours and continuing their walk.

“Good boy, Derek!” Stiles cooed. “That’s a such a good boy for waiting to cross the street!”

“Woof! Woof!” Derek happily barked, loving how Stiles praised him. He was such a good boy, especially for Stiles.

“Hey there, Stiles!” a voice enthusiastically echoed out.

Stiles looked away from Derek and then smiled lazily at Theo, who walked towards the two men. “Oh, hi Theo,” Stiles said, in a less cheery voice. This one almost sounded distrustful. 

At the sound of Stiles’s change of tone and the approaching of the other man, Derek couldn’t swallow down the fierce protectiveness that bubbled up in his chest. He stomped forward and puffed out his chest as best as he could, steeling his arms to make his muscles look even bigger.

“Grrr!” Derek growled at the other man, making him stop in his place.

Stiles tightened his grip on the leash and kept Derek back, offering Theo a meek smile. “Sorry, Theo,” he huffed, “Derek’s not great with other people yet. I’m still getting him trained.”

Derek stopped growling, but kept his large werewolf fangs bared threateningly at the other man.

Theo held his hands up and shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, I know you’ll get him trained well soon,” he sighed. “You always said that you wanted a dog…” With that he turned around and walked off, but Derek could’ve sworn that he’d heard him mutter “…I must’ve messed up the spell…”

Stiles and Derek finished their walk, the whole time Derek loving the quality time with his husband. Derek had loved smelling all of the flowers in their neighbors’ yards, he'd enjoyed the way Mrs. Hall ad given him a pat on the head (it’d been nothing like Stiles’s head pats though), and he’d chased a squirrel much to Stiles’s annoyance.

When they returned home, Stiles fed Derek some food, which Derek happily gobbled up. He followed Stiles around the house as he did little chores here and there until it was nighttime. 

“Time for bed, Der,” Stiles yawned, stretching his arms over his head and he sauntered towards the bedroom. He hopped in the bed and lied down.

Derek followed him into the room and spun around a few times before lying down on the dog bed that was at the foot of his bed. There was a rawhide there from earlier, and Derek chomped down, gnawing it with his large teeth. He was so happy. He had the best master in the whole world, he got a belly rub earlier, and he got to have walkies.

It couldn’t get any better than this—

“It’s kinda cold,” Stiles shivered. “You want up, Der?” He patted the mattress.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek excitedly barked as he jumped up onto the bed and scurried over to his Stiles, licking his face lovingly. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Stiles laughed as he scratched behind Derek’s ear.

“Woof!” Derek happily barked, his wide and toothy smile dominating his face.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 28: Inflation

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[Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/super-blimp/art/Man-of-Helium-910308194]

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— — —

“Stiles!? Stiles, where the hell are you?” Derek roared out as he scanned the large crowd for his boyfriend. 

The werewolf sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Stiles had won some online comic book contest, giving him a trip for two to Metropolis for the Annual Superman Parade. At first, Derek hadn’t wanted to spend his weekend at some overcrowded city where a bunch of nerds would be talking nonstop about comics; however, when he’d seen the glee in Stiles’s eyes, Derek had immediately melted and had agreed to go.

At his boyfriend’s behest, Derek wore a tight Superman t-shirt that he’d bought at Wal-Mart on the clearance rack. Just right before the parade was due to start, Stiles had gotten distracted and ran off towards a pretzel stand, disappearing into the crowd.

For the past twenty minutes, Derek was shoving his way through the crowd, looking for his boyfriend. “Stiles!” he yelled out again. “Damn it, I swear I’m gonna put a bell on that guy…”

In his hast to find Stiles, Derek angrily stomped past a bald man dressed in a suit that seemed to be too nice for just attending a parade. The man looked over at the frantic werewolf, a smirk formed on his face.

“Looking for someone?” he asked Derek, putting on a nice tone. “Missing child?”

Derek froze, but then huffed in agitation. “Missing boyfriend,” he corrected begrudgingly. “He went off the pretzel stand and got lost in the crowd. He’s wearing a superhero costume…” His voice trailed off when he realized that his description wouldn’t help due to hundreds of other people on the street dressed up as comic book characters.

The bald man just nodded his head. “Yeah, it’d be rather difficult to locate a singular nerd out of a thousand,” he hummed. “I know a way you can spot him easier, though.”

Normally, Derek would prefer to work solo, yet he wasn’t too keen on having his boyfriend lost in an unfamiliar city. Hence, he nodded. “Sure,” he grunted. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

The bald man’s smile grew. “Follow me, please,” he said, turning around and leading Derek through the crowd. The two of them walked into a nearby, unmarked building and headed directly towards the elevator which had to be operated with a key that the bald man had.

The elevator led all the way to the rooftop of the building. Initially, Derek thought that this was a great idea since he would be able to look down over the side and scan the crowd for Stiles. However, when he stepped out of the elevator, he spotted an odd looking machine that resembled an oversized shop vacuum, complete with a large hose. Blinking lights decorated the front, and they flickered with a neon green aura to them.

“Um,” Derek mumbled, shrugging it away, “thanks again for your help, Mister, um…”

“Luthor,” the bald man introduced himself. “Dr. Lex Luthor.”

For a brief moment, Derek could’ve sworn that he’d heard that name from somewhere before, like from one of the movies that he and Stiles had watched together (or more apt, a movie that Stiles watched while Derek felt him up). The alpha shook his head, figuring that it must’ve just been a common name as he started to walk over towards the edge of the rooftop, his lupine eyes searching for his hyperactive boyfriend.

In the background, he could pick up the sounds of Dr. Luthor moving around and messing with something. He ignored it though, perking up once he saw a familiar figure hovering by one of the numerous shop stands.

“Stiles!” Derek called out. “Stay there and— mmpphh!”

Derek’s voice was cut off when Lex Luthor shoved the large hose into his mouth, a clicking sound ringing out as a strap in the back locked it in place. Derek immediately shoved the older man away from him, grabbing onto the hose with both hands and trying to pull it off his face. It was secured tightly in place, refusing to budge an inch. He could still breathe just fine, but his heart began to race in his chest as he wondered what the hell was going on.

“Grrr!” Derek growled, his words still obstructed, as he threateningly leaned towards Lex.

The bald guy just smirked. “Don’t try to fight it, Mr. Hale,” he said as he coyly walked back over to the large machine that the other end of the hose was attached to.

Derek cocked his eyebrow, wondering how this random stranger knew his name.

Dr. Luthor just snickered as he began to punch a few of the green buttons. “You honestly think your little boyfriend won that contest to come to Metropolis based on his talent alone?” he balked. “I mean, the guy submitted a handmade comic entitled Wolfman, and he not-so-subtly designed the hero after you.”

Derek’s broad shoulders fell, knowing that that did sound like something Stiles would do. Still, wanting to defend his boyfriend’s honor, Derek growled again and kept trying to tear the hose away from his mouth.

“So I had to rig the contest to make sure that the two of you would come to Metropolis so that I could test out my latest experiment on you!” Dr. Luthor explained, his voice quaking with excitement as his fingers furiously kept pressing the flickering buttons, a whirring beginning to sound out from the machine. “After all, if it works on an alpha werewolf, then it’s sure to work on Superman!”

Derek rolled his eyes at the insane-sounding bald man. Superman wasn’t real, he told himself; therefore, he was being attacked by some crazed comic book fan. Of course this would happen to him…

The whirring from the machine grew in intensity, growing louder and faster. It turned into a loud hum, mimicking the sound of a generator. 

“Hold on, Derek,” Dr. Luthor laughed. “You might feel a little… pressure.” He flipped a switch.

Derek winced as he felt a gust of air blow through the tube, coming out of the machine and going directly into his mouth, making his cheeks puff up from the action.

“Hmm?” Derek couldn’t help but ask in surprise. A number of different scenarios had ran through his head regarding what the machine would do, but just blowing air wasn’t one of them.

Dr. Luthor’s eyes began to light up with zeal. “It’s a success!” he practically cheered, going so far as to ball up his fists with joy. “Look!”

Derek scrunched up his brow in confusion before paling once a tingle rippled across his body, and a horrifying sensation began to creep up.

Steadily, Derek could feel his Superman shirt start become tighter as the air continued to blow into his mouth. In a panic, Derek looked down at himself, his eyes nearing bulging out of his skull as he saw a lump at his midsection where rigid abs should’ve been. The humming from the machine picked up, and Derek’s stomach pushed outwards, growing larger and much more rounder.

Derek frantically pressed his hands against his growing gut, as if he could stop its growth. However, not only did he feel it continue to get bigger, the werewolf was startled by the squeaky noises of rubber balloons sounding out. Worse was that the more he moved, the more the squeaky sounds rang out, as if Derek’s skin were now rubber, expanding as he grew larger and larger.

The growth wasn’t solely focused on his belly, Derek was horrified to discover. His pecs began to inflate too, rounding out as they ballooned out in front of him. With two audible boinks, his nipples poked out, pressing tightly against his straining t-shirt. His pant’s button ricocheted off as his butt began to bubble out, growing large and bulbous as it blew up with air from the mysterious machine.

Derek tried with much more gusto to tear the hose away from his face, but then his arms began to inflate. So much air was pumped into them that they grew inflexible, and Derek couldn’t maintain his grip on the hose. His arms were forced to hang out at his sides, akimbo. He furrowed his brow intently as he tried to move them, but all he could do was barely wiggly his hands as his entire body grew.

All of the muscles in Derek’s enlarged body looked overly inflated and out of proportion. They were ridiculously huge and round, making movement near impossible. Derek’s arms were stuck at his sides, and his thighs had grown so wide that they constantly pressed against one another, forcing him to stand with a wide stance. The whole time he struggled to move, the squeaking noises of balloons echoed out from his expanding form.

The growth even traveled south to Derek’s cock, pumping it up to incredible proportions. It lengthened out to almost a foot long, and thickened up to the girth of his normal-sized forearms. The amount of air in it forced it to stand straight out in front of the growing Derek, his balls blowing up to the size of softballs.

Dr. Luthor glanced at his expensive-looking watch before turning a dial on the machine. “As much as watching you turn into a helpless blimp, Derek,” he teased, “I’m on a really tight time crunch. Let’s hurry this up, shall we?”

The machine roared with power as it forced more air down the powerless werewolf’s throat.

Derek felt his muscular physique begin to falter as his body started to round out even more, taking on a more spherical appearance. His traps and pecs inflated to such enormous proportions that they ballooned up and swallowed Derek’s neck, making his head look hilariously tiny atop a round body. His torso inflated so much that it began to gradually grow over his limbs. His arms and legs seemingly sucked into his bulbous midsection, leaving the werewolf’s hands to flap around uselessly as he still futilely tried to tear the hose away from him. His stubby legs threw him off balance, and Derek felt himself fall onto his back. He was so full of air that he actually hovered in the air, floating weightlessly as he ballooned up. He could barely move, he was so big. And even if he could roll around, he was too light to even touch the ground, leaving the alpha one-hundred percent at the mercy of the mad scientist.

“Aaand, that should be good!” Dr. Luthor said as he shut off the machine.

The air stopped, and for a brief second, Derek was relieved that he wasn’t growing anymore. However, that relief was short-lived when he looked downward, his view of his body blocked by his hyperbolically inflated pecs that were so huge and round. Based on the large shadow he created, Derek estimated that he had to have grown to the size of one of the parade floats he’d seen on TV. His Superman t-shirt miraculously remained intact, making Derek look like an overinflated Superman.

Dr. Luthor walked forward and quickly tied ropes around Derek’s hands and feet, holding onto them so that the werewolf wouldn’t float away. He yanked one the ropes, causing Derek’s balloon-like body to jerk downwards enough so that the hose could be unlocked and removed from his face.

“Well, Mr. Hale, what do you think of your new body?” Dr. Luthor mocked, a sinister smirk on his cocky face. “If I may toot my horn, I’d say that I just created the biggest Superman parade float that Metropolis has ever seen!”

“You son of a bitch! You better turn me back!” Derek roared, blushing when he heard the squeaky sound of his voice. The air that had been pumped into him must’ve had large amounts of helium, making Derek sound like a chipmunk, made all the more ridiculous with his giant body.

“‘Turn you back’?” Dr. Luthor asked, looking genuinely confused before shrugging. “I’m not sure there is any going back, Mr. Hale. I mean, after all, you’ve stretched out way beyond any normal proportions so I really don’t think you’ll just bounce back, per se. Perhaps we could look into bulking you up so you can at least stay grounded with your new girth.”

Derek was stunned at what he heard. He was so caught up in the horrible news that he was potentially looking at a future as a giant blimp, that he’d barely noticed when Dr. Luthor tossed the long ropes down the edge of the building towards where some of his cronies were waiting. His crew grabbed the ropes and hurriedly walked into the parade, continuing down the street at the same pace as the rest of the performers.

“W-wait!” Derek cried, humiliated at the thought of his inflated form being paraded throughout the bustling city for all to see.

His enormous body was pulled out into the parade among the other floats, of which his size was in par with. Immediately, the werewolf’s sharp ears could pick up the gasps from the crowd as they looked up at his balloon-like body.

“Whoa!” a man shouted as he pointed upward .”Check out that over-inflated Superman! His belly is massive!”

“That’s a bit too big for Superman. That has to be some kinda fetish work, right?”

“Look at the size of that bubble butt!”

“He looks huge!”

The crowd erupted into thunderous laughter, many people pointing at Derek’s inflated body and making comments about the obscene size of his pecs, belly, or ass.

Derek’s face was cherry red as he blushed at the comments about his inflated body. It was hard to turn his head with almost no neck, but he could see his huge form in the reflection of the glass lining a skyscraper. 

Derek groaned at how large and round he looked. His gut was so spherical and enormous that it was definitely the center of his growth. Not to be outdone, his ass cheeks had blown up as well, protruding out into the air as he floated through the city, all of the parade-goers gawking at his round form. His head looked hilariously tiny as it sat in the middle of his torso, almost sinking into his inflated pecs which were capped with nubby, protruding nipples. The Superman icon on his t-shirt had stretched out over his larger chest, making him feel like some warped superhero as he helplessly floated through the city.

Derek tried desperately to grab onto the ropes to pull himself back down to the ground, but he was so rotund that all he could do was helpless wriggle his fingers and kick his feet. Dr. Luthor’s crew kept laughing wildly as they carried Derek throughout Metropolis, going so far as to even bring attention to his inflated form.

“Hey! Check out the massive new Superman float we got. A bit overfilled, isn’t it?” one of them giggled.

Derek’s face was crimson now as he was shown off.

“Derek?! What happened to you?!” he heard Stiles cry out among the crowd.

The werewolf slightly perked up and tried to look around for his boyfriend, but his pecs were so large that he couldn’t see anything past them. “Some freak turned me into a damn balloon!” he squeaked, wincing again at his silly voice.

Derek could hear Stiles’s feet hurry over towards him. The sounds of grunting echoed as a scuffle broke out, and Derek could feel himself being carried away from the parade at a little faster pace.

“I gotcha Der!” he heard Stiles say. “You’re actually surprisingly light…”

Derek couldn’t see thank to his inflated form, but Stiles had managed to snatch the ropes away from Lex Luthor’s cronies. He ran down the other block, carrying his parade float boyfriend away from the crowd so that they could figure out a way to fix him.

For a second, Derek breathed out a sigh of relief before something off in the distance caught his eye. “H-hey,” he squeaked, “something’s coming this way. A plane?”

Stiles looked up into the air, gasping loudly. “Holy shit, Der!” he exclaimed excitedly. “It’s Superman!”

“Of course it is…”

Sure enough, the flying object approached at lightening speed, stopping midair right in front of Derek’s inflated form. Despite how impossible it sounded (and crazier things had happened that day, clearly), Superman floated right in front of the werewolf. He looked just as he did on TV, yet Stiles swore that Superman and Derek shared a few facial features.

“Whoa there, Big Guy,” Superman whistled as he looked over Derek’s parade float body, “it’s looks like Lex Luthor used you as a guinea pig for one of his diabolical experiments.”

A twinge of anger sparked inside of Derek, knowing that it should’ve been Superman who’d been turned into a freakshow, not him. “Yeah…” was all that he could say in his helium-esque voice.

“Superman!” Stiles gushed down below on the ground. “I’m your biggest fan! I’ve read all of your comics and seen all of your movies! I have so many questions to ask you if you have any time at all!”

Superman just smiled warmly down at the talkative human. “Sure thing, Citizen,” he said in his deep voice that oozed manliness, and Derek couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. “But first, I think we should figure out what to do with your friend here.”

“Boyfriend,” Derek squeaked.

“Can you turn him back, Superman?” Stiles asked, his knuckles turning white from onto the ropes tightly.

Superman rubbed at his square, chiseled jaw in thought before crossing his big, but manageable, arms over his chest. “I think I have a better idea,” he admitted. “Something that could benefit everyone involved.”

Derek gulped loudly.

[Two Weeks Later]

“Everything’s all set!” Superman, disguised as Clark Kent, announced, beaming ear to ear.

“Are you ready, Der?” Stiles asked.

“Um, I guess so,” Derek stammered, his voice still sounding like helium.

“Well, the Halloween Parade’s starting, so let’s go!” Clark said as he pulled on the ropes and began walking among the crowd. 

Again, Derek was paraded throughout Metropolis, being the largest parade float on the block. This time, in preparation for the Halloween Parade, Superman had painted him head-to-toe orange, making him look like a massive pumpkin. Derek still blushed as all eyes were on his inflated form, but the inflated werewolf forced a nervous smile onto his face as he tried his best to wave an inflexible arm.

Superman’s great idea, since he had no idea how to turn Derek back to normal, was to just use the werewolf as Metropolis’s biggest parade float, opting to dressing him up to fit whatever parade it was supposed to be. For the Thanksgiving Parade next month, Superman had plans to dress up the inflated Derek as a large turkey.

Of course, it wasn’t Derek’s first choice. However, he couldn’t deny that a part of him liked to see Stiles happy attending parades on the regular, so he tried his best to swallow down his horror over his new life as an overinflated parade float, and tried his best to give in.

Derek smiled and waved to the crowd as best as he could, still blushing slightly as onlookers commented on how massive he looked.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 31: Tyler Hoechlin to Derek Hale TF

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25 │ 26 │ 27 │ 28 │ 29 │ 30 │ 31 🎃

Happy Halloween everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this Derek Hale Tf Marathon! It was so much fun to make, and I hope that you all liked what I put out!

-- -- --

Actor Tyler Hoechlin filtered through some emails to waste time before he had to get ready. The actor was supposed to make an appearance at some celebrity Halloween party for photo ops. He wasn’t above taking a picture here and there, but he hadn’t even began to think about a costume, nor had his assistant just grabbed one for him.

“I could just wear a bedsheet and go as a ghost?” Tyler chuckled to himself, thinking that it’d be so lame that it’d be good.

He deleted several emails from casting agents who thought that he’d be great in one of their low-budget horror movies that was supposed to go straight to steaming services. Tyler couldn’t help but grimace at doing anything horror related.

After spending so many years being cast as Derek Hale on Teen Wolf, the last thing he wanted to do was something spooky-ish, lest he risk being typecasted. Already, the actor played Superman on Superman & Lois, but he still had several people on the street referring to him as “Derek”. Of course, Tyler was grateful that so many fans appreciated his work on the MTV series, but there was a part of him that was ready to let the role go.

Which was why he’d frowned deeply at the email from Jeff Davis, the creator of Teen Wolf. Tyler begrudgingly clicked on it, scanning it a little until he got to the reason for the reaching out:

“…MTV is interested in rebooting the Teen Wolf series, and after the negative reception of the movie, the producers have decided not to count it as canon. Can we count on you to return as Beacon Hills’s resident Alpha, Derek Hale?”

Not even bothering to respond to it, Tyler moved the mouse towards the garbage icon to delete it. Before he could click it, his laptop screen flickered and an odd electric shock sparked out, actually shocking Tyler.

The actor recoiled his hand at the sensation, the electric shock sending a tingling feeling throughout the rest of his body for a brief moment.

“What the hell?” Tyler wondered aloud. He closed his laptop and shoved himself away from his desk, making a mental note to buy a new laptop tomorrow since his was obvious short-circuiting. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed, seeing that he was supposed to start getting ready for the party. Tyler rubbed his temples and walked towards the bathroom so that he could start getting ready. 

As he undressed, the actor could feel a little apprehension starting to seep into his bones about attending the party. The normally social Tyler Hoechlin, for some unknown reason, began to frown at the thought of being at a stuffy Halloween party that was going to be packed with people, wall to wall. The thought of being trapped in a room, shoulder to shoulder, with other people made Tyler shudder, and he began to think of reasons to bail. He thought that it was odd, but he chalked it up to his social battery just being abnormally low that night.

Still, Tyler told himself that he couldn’t just be a no-show. He’d promised his friend and previous costar, Dylan O’Brien, that he’d show up and the two could catch up over a drink.

Tyler could’ve sworn that his heart started to race in his chest for some reason, his limbs tingling with excitement. “What’s going on?” he mumbled to himself, confused as to why he seemed to be so giddy to see Dylan. “It’s just Stiles. I saw him last week…”

He coughed and cleared his throat, having no clue why he’d accidentally referred to Dylan as his old character, Stiles. Tyler shook it off and hopped into the shower. As he bathed, Tyler couldn’t seem to get Dylan out of his head.

“What is going on with me?” he asked himself, wondering why he couldn’t get the man’s dimples out of his mind. What was even weirder to the man was that his cock started to plump up, sticking straight out in front of him.

Tyler had never had a gay thought in his life, and despite seeing all of the Sterek fan art online, he’d never entertained the thought of him and Dylan together. Yet, for some unknown reason, the more he pictured his toned, mole-spotted body, his cock throbbed even harder.

“Fuck it,” Tyler grunted as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, pumping away.

Tyler was so lost in the pleasure that rippled throughout his body as he jerked off, bellowing out low moans the entire time. His free hand ran over his muscled chest, his fingers running through the thick pelt of chest hair—

“Wh-what?” Tyler grunted as he looked down, still playing with his throbbing cock as he stared down at his previously smooth chest. Despite having just shaved his pecs earlier that morning for some pictures as the smooth-chested Superman, Tyler’s chest was now covered in thick, black chest hair. The hairs covered his meaty pecs and ran down his stomach, connecting to his bush by a noticeable happy trail. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

Tyler’s confusion was briefly forgotten when all of his large muscles tensed up, and his cock erupted with a spray of cum, shooting a large load against the linoleum of his shower. 

The stud was left panting, leaning against the other wall of the shower as he tried to catch his breath. Tyler ran a shaky hand through his wet hair, trying to piece together the fact that not only was his chest hairy, but he’d also just jerked off to another guy— one of his past costars at that.

“I guess Stiles is kinda cute,” he begrudgingly muttered, flinching for a second. “Um, I mean Dylan.”

Tyler finished up his shower and dried himself off in a daze, struggling to wrap his head around what was going on. He knew that something was up, but whenever he tried to concentrate on it, a new growing part of his brain told him not to worry about it. Even as he dried off his hairy chest, his panic that he knew should’ve been there was barely audible.

The actor was puzzling over it as he lumbered back to his bedroom to get dressed. He opted to grab a nice designer suit of out his closet, one that was supposed to make him look like 007. Yet, when Tyler pulled on the white button shirt, he huffed in irritation over how tight it felt.

“Damn it,” he grunted, unable to close the top four buttons of the shirt over his broad chest muscles. He tried his best to suck in his stomach in order to make himself smaller, but his fuzzy pecs were too large to fit into the tiny shirt. His wide back muscles were far too wide, and his biceps threatened to tear the expensive fabric to shreds. Tyler could’ve sworn that the shirt had fit him perfectly at the store, yet now it was at least two sizes too small for him.

With an annoyed huff, Tyler tossed the shirt to the floor and stomped over to his wardrobe to find something that would fit over his muscles. As he stared at the expensive clothes in his closet, Tyler couldn’t help but feel a large bubble of animosity start to form in his gut. The thought of parading around in such garish and over-priced threads was almost repulsive to him.

Without a second thought, Tyler hurried over to his dresser and yanked on a tight, gray tank top that barely fit over his large muscles. He pulled on some worn blue jeans that hugged his butt nicely. As the finishing piece, Tyler snatched a black leather jacket out of his closet and shrugged it on, feeling much more at home in it than he would some brand name suit.

Tyler paused to look at himself in the mirror before exiting his house, noting that he looked like he was wearing his usual outfit that his character Derek Hale wore on the set of Teen Wolf. He snickered and rolled his eyes, but then gasped.

“What the hell…?” his voice trailed off when he leaned in closer to the mirror, his eyes honing in on his teeth. As impossible as it seemed, Tyler could’ve sworn that his canines were bigger. They stood out much more prominently than the rest of his teeth, looking like the actor was wearing caps over them, trying to make them look larger and sharper. “I, uh, I guess these are supposed to be the sharper teeth… Shit!”

Tyler jerked back in surprise at the way his smooth, freshly shaven chin was now covered in a trimmed beard. The way his sideburns connected to it indicated that Tyler must’ve been growing out his facial hair over the course of a few days, maybe even weeks. However, he knew for a fact that he’d shaved his face not even an hour ago, letting him know that something was indeed wrong.

In disbelief, the hairier hunk grabbed at the hairs covering his chin, shocked that they were real and attached to him.

His heart began to race in his beefy chest, but he was quickly distracted when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Despite himself, Tyler snatched it out and glanced at the screen, his stomach doing flips when he read that it was a text from Stiles/Dylan.

Hey! I’m at the party! You’re coming, right? it read.

Tyler couldn’t ignore the giddy excitement that rippled through him, and he caught himself smiling like a goofball, his larger canines poking out of his mouth.

On my way, he responded, grabbing his keys and leaving his house. 

Tyler rushed over to his garage and opened the door, not even thinking twice before hopping into his black Camaro instead of his Tesla before he sped down the street towards the party, eager to see Stiles— or Dylan.

He floored the gas pedal as he rushed to the party, irritated when he hit a red light. Tyler groaned impatiently and rested his head against the headrest in irritation. His eyes glanced towards the rearview mirror, and Tyler gasped at what he saw.

He almost tore the rearview mirror off of its fixture as he leaned closer, seeing that his brow appeared much more prominent than it should’ve. That, and his eyebrows were missing for some reason. His ears had elongated, ending in points that protruded far off his head.

Tyler ran a disbelieving hand over his facial features, feeling ridiculous. He had just enough awareness to recall looking in the mirror on the set of Teen Wolf, seeing the same exact look whenever he was made up into Derek Hale’s beta form. Yet, he could feel the nerve endings whenever he touched his new canine ears, paling at what that indicated—

HONK! 

The car behind him blared its horn as the light turned green, snapping Tyler out of his panic.

Tyler just bared his teeth in the mirror and continued on his way. All of the cars on the road, the bright lights of the city, and the too poppy songs on the radio all seemed to get under the stud’s skin, and a firm scowl planted itself onto his handsome face.

It wasn’t long until Tyler pulled up in front of a large convention center that had a valet service up front. He stopped and got out of his Camaro, unable to hold back the intimidating snarl when he tossed the valet his keys.

“There better not be a scratch on it when I get back,” he muttered, noting the deeper quality to his voice. He cleared his throat as he walked up towards the entrance where a large bouncer stood, clipboard in hand.

“Name?” the bouncer asked.

“Derek Hale,” Tyler answered automatically, flinching and clearing his throat again. “Sorry about that, my name’s Der— er, Tyler Hoechlin.” He didn’t know why saying his name seemed like some Herculean feat, the actor having to clench his fists in order to get it out of his mouth.

The bouncer simply looked down at the list on the clipboard before nodding and ushering Tyler inside.

Tyler rubbed at his temples as he tried to piece together what was happening. However, the second he stepped foot inside, all of his senses appeared to have heightened as they were all assaulted at once. 

Tyler winced at the onslaught of stimuli: the lights in the room were far too bright and he had to nearly squint in order to adjust his sight; the music was blaring out of the speakers, blasting at a near deafening volume; and the stench of overpriced alcohol singed his nostrils, making him grimace. The stud was ready to about face until a familiar scent wafted by.

It took a few seconds for Tyler to realize that he’d been sniffing at the air like a search dog, blushing once he’d been made aware of the other celebrities eying him confusedly. Still, the familiar smell of curly fries alerted him to someone else’s presence, and he found himself barreling through the crowd towards the source.

Tyler’s gaze honed in on Stiles, the cute guy standing over by one of the tables. He was dressed in a suit that had a red coat that made Tyler’s heart flutter in his chest. Immediately, he felt his scowl starting to loosen up the slightest bit, and the more he approached, the quicker Tyler noticed the other guy talking to Stiles.

“Grrr…” Tyler growled out of instinct. As soon as the animalistic sound left his lips, the shocked stud slapped a hand over his mouth. He had no idea why he’d literally just growled like a dog, but once he looked back over at Stiles and the other man talking, he couldn’t prevent the sound from uttering from his lips once more, his large chest vibrating from the noise.

Stiles picked up on the noise and looked over in his direction, smiling and waving him over. “Hey!” he called.

Tyler ceased growling and couldn’t prevent the wide smile from growing on his face as he hurried over to his boyfriend— or past costar. As Tyler was trying to figure out why he was so eager to see the other guy, he wasn’t even aware of the fact that he wrapped a possessive arm around Stiles’s waist, pulling the smaller guy closer into him.

Stiles turned to the other man. “Jeff, you remember Derek, right?” he asked before furrowing his brow in confusion.

The other guy just looked over at Tyler and nodded. “I sure do,” he grinned, holding out his hand for Derek to shake. 

At first, the werewolf just sneered at the other man’s hand, jealousy still coursing through his veins. However, after a slight nudge from Stiles, Derek begrudgingly took it and squeezed it tightly, enjoying the slight wincing from the other man. “Nice to meet you,” he grunted.

Jeff didn’t look too fazed. “As I was telling Dylan, er, Stiles over here,” he said, “I was hoping to hear more about your stories in Beacon Hills. I’m with a large production company that would love to—”

“Not interested,” Derek interrupted, having absolutely zero desire to have his pack’s business advertised in any manner. He was as anti-social as they came, and the idea of talking to some big shot production guy made his headache grow.

Jeff frowned. “…yeah, I guess I did write him like this…”

Derek ignored that, and instead held on tightly to Stiles as he led him out of the crowd of people and towards the exit. They left the convention center and handed the valet the ticket.

“Der,” Stiles piped up, looking just as confused as he was, “um, how the hell did we get in LA?”

Derek’s brow furrowed too as he scratched at the back of his head. He felt like something was wrong, hearing some quiet voice in the back of his head that said that he wasn’t an alpha werewolf. For a brief second, his hairy muscles felt far too big and he wondered why he was so turned on by another man. However, the voice was immediately silenced when Stiles interlocked his fingers with his.

“No fuckin’ clue,” Derek finally said, shaking his head as he took the keys back from the valet. He and Stiles got into the Camaro, and Derek sped down the street back towards Beacon Hills. 

The alpha werewolf rested his arm around the headrest of Stiles’s seat, the motion making his large biceps stretch his leather jacket slightly. Stiles leaned in closer to him, resting his head on his broad shoulder. Derek couldn’t help but puff out his hairy chest with pride, his inner wolf howling with content.

Derek Hale smiled widely, absolutely loving his life.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 26: Twink

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25 │ 26

Derek bumped into some small, tiny guy. The little guy wore comically oversized clothes as he ran off, looking panicked and frightened. 

“Fuckin’ weirdo,” Derek snorted, readjusting his gym bag over his broad shoulder. 

The 6’3” alpha sauntered into the gym to workout. Normally, the muscled stud preferred to lift or perform bodyweight exercises at home where he wouldn’t have to deal with a lot of people. However, after renovating his house, he didn’t want to mess it up with his musk, so he’d opted to get a gym membership. After a few weeks of working out at one of the local gyms, Derek was surprised to discover that he actually liked to work out in public. There was something about being one of the bigger guys at the gyms that filled him with a sense of pride. Towering over the other men and easily out-muscling them only cemented his role as an alpha, and Derek could only smirk as he threw his weight around the gym.

After changing in the locker room, Derek strutted out onto the gym floor clad in only tight gym shorts that strained against his powerful thighs. His impressive chest muscles were on full display as he moved towards the weight pile. His chiseled, plump pecs illustrated sheer masculine power, and Derek frowned a bit when he realized that the gym was virtually empty.

“Guess the other guys just can’t keep up,” he hummed to himself, grabbing the heavier weights on the rack and performing bicep curls like it was second nature to him. His bowling ball-sized mounds flexed with power as he lifted, and Derek couldn’t help but admire his bulky form in the large mirror.

Derek was so caught up in working out that he barely noticed when another gym patron walked up to the weight pile, grabbing a weight that was a little heavier than Derek’s.

This other guy rivaled Derek’s size, both in height and musculature, much to the alpha’s annoyance. This other guy’s thick curly hair reached the same exact 6’3” height as did Derek; that fact bothering Derek for some inane reason. Plus, this other guy also worked out shirtless, showing off his pumped up muscles that exuded manly power. His chiseled pecs were just as rounded as Derek’s, and when he lifted his weight, his bicep bulged to the same exact size Derek’s had.

The other guy glanced towards Derek and nodded at the lighter weight in his grasp. “My girlfriend likes to use the smaller weights too,” he chuckled.

Derek bristled at the obvious attempt to make him look weaker than the unknown douchebag. He just clenched his jaw as he set the weight down, opting for an even larger one than the other guy’s. Gritting his teeth, he began to rack out several bicep curls.

The subtle way the other man’s eyes widened caused the alpha to smirk, loving how his bicep pumped up to an incredible size. The arm burned with lactate and he could vaguely make out the other guy muttering something under his breath, yet Derek was too focused on trying to look like the bigger man.

Derek’s muscles burned from his workout, the burning sensation seemingly spreading throughout the rest of his body from his arm. The immense weight in his hand steadily felt heavier by the second, Derek chalking it up to reaching muscle failure. He thought that it was odd that he’d reached it in under a minute since he could usually lift heavy amounts of weight for a substantiated amount of time.

Derek grunted as he attempted to perform one more rep, yet his arm started to shake and he ultimately dropped the weight, letting it clang loudly onto the floor. 

The guy chuckled again, and clapped Derek on the bare shoulder. “Don’t worry, Little Guy,” he teased, “there’s no shame in starting off with the smaller weights. We all gotta start somewhere, right?”

Derek swallowed down a growl and instead tried to glare threateningly at the other guy to get him to leave him alone… but he stopped when he stared directly at the dude’s chin. Earlier, Derek could’ve sworn that they’d stood eye to eye.

Derek’s eyes widened when he witnessed the other guy actually growing. As impossible as it seemed, the other gym goer sprouted up in height, his muscles also packing on some serious size. His pecs plumped out even more and his arms took on some more consider meat. 

“What the fuck?” Derek muttered, freezing when he heard his voice. It was void of any baritone, making his voice sound lighter and almost squeakier, as if it had shot up a few octaves. 

Then the horror slowly dawned on Derek that the other guy wasn’t just growing, but Derek was also shrinking.

Derek watched as his line of sight kept slipping lower and lower, until he was staring directly at the other man’s plump pecs. It didn’t stop there though, as all of Derek’s muscles began to deflate. 

“What the fuck’s happening to my muscles!?” Derek squeaked out in his smaller voice, holding his arms out in horror as his biceps steadily grew flatter.

Derek was helpless to do anything except watch as all of his hard-earned muscles grew flatter and near nonexistent. His arms shrank until they looked like unremarkable sticks, lacking any bulges whatsoever. His pumped up pectorals gradually flattened as they shrank against his chest, looking smaller and smaller until his entire torso was flat— lacking major pecs or even any abs. Even his legs thinned out as quads and calves deflated, growing smaller until Derek had little twigs to stand on.

To add insult to injury, Derek paled as he squirmed and felt an uncomfortable bagginess in the front of his boxers, the front of his shorts looking flat.

When he was finally done shrinking, Derek stared at his skinny body in shock and horror, estimating that he must’ve lost well over fifty pounds of pure muscle, and that he had to have stood at a measly 5’3” now.

“Wh-what did you do to me?” Derek roared, but his lighter voice didn’t hold any sort of threatening quality to it at all. In his frustration, he tried to charge forward and pummel the now larger man, but as he swung his tiny fists at the man’s massive bulk, the other guy didn’t seem phased.

The big gym bully just snickered. “Sorry, Little Man,” he scoffed, gently shoving Derek away, yet the incredible difference in strength sent the tiny alpha stumbling backwards until he fell on his tiny butt with a thud. “There’s only room here for one gym alpha.” 

To illustrate his point, the larger man lifted his powerful arms and flexed his massive biceps which flexed to the size of small melons, easily out sizing Derek’s tiny stick-like arms.

Out of humiliation, Derek took off, sprinting out of the gym in a frenzy, embarrassed at how there was a lack of dangling sensation between his legs. He hurried into his Camaro and nearly wailed as he had to readjust his seat closer to the wheel because his shortened legs couldn’t reach the pedals.

As the tiny man sped off, a large bodybuilder entered the gym, his large muscles oddly already starting to burn the second the stepped foot inside…