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 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 22: Stripper

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"You know, Derek,” Isaac scoffed as he trailed behind his alpha in the dimly-lit club, “when I agreed to come to your bachelor party, I didn’t think that we’d be stalking Stiles during his bachelor party.”

Derek just grunted in response, using his werewolf eyes to scan the crowd. His snarl was set deep on his face as he looked for his fiancé, ready to tear some guy who gets too close to him to shreds. In the back of his mind, Derek was already berating Scott for dragging Stiles to a strip club. Granted Stiles and Derek hadn’t explicitly vetoed strippers at their respective bachelor parties, Derek wasn’t good at quashing down his jealous side.

Hence, he’d bribed Isaac with the promise of whiskey and cigars in the guise of a bachelor party, when in reality they were spying on Stiles.

“He’s right over there,” Isaac sighed, gesturing towards a private booth.

Derek narrowed his eyes in that direction, seeing Stiles sitting with Lydia and enjoying copious amounts of alcohol. Stiles had ordered a bright pink one that had an array of colorful fruits on top of the glass, and he eagerly sipped it down as he chatted away with his friends. Even though it was clear that this club was meant to have some dancers, given the pole on top of the table, Derek was slightly relieved when he saw that his fiancé wasn’t anywhere near the strippers.

“Oh,” Derek muttered, feeling a little foolish.

“See?” Isaac said, clapping his alpha on the back. “All that worrying for nothing. Shoot, if you were really that concerned, then why don’t you just be his stripper?” Shaking his head, Isaac stalked over to the table where Stiles’s bachelor party was at, happily snatching a drink off of the table.

Derek rolled his eyes and turned around, getting ready to leave the club.

The music on the speakers changed to an upbeat tempo dance song. The beats were so loud that they took over Derek’s senses, and he struggled to hear anything outside of the wordless song that a bunch of sweaty dancers gyrated to.

He didn’t notice it at first, but Derek soon became altered to the fact that he was slowly starting to shift his hips from side to side. The movement began to pick up speed until the werewolf was gyrating in the club, just like the other dancers.

The alpha’s heart started to race in his chest as he realized that he couldn’t stop. No matter how much he tried to tell himself to stop dancing, Derek was quickly learning that he wasn’t in control of his own body.

Derek’s hips kept swishing back and forth, and the alpha’s trepidation grew when his muscled arms started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Derek popped them off, one by one, until he tossed the useless fabric to the ground. The werewolf was shocked as he threw his hands behind his head, crunching his abs to make them pop as he couldn’t stop showing off on the middle of the dance floor. 

A few of the other patrons looked Derek’s way and even began to cheer him on.

Derek was beyond humiliated and wanted nothing more than to run off and hide from the prying eyes, but the more eyes that were on him, the worse his uncontrollable behavior grew.

Despite roaring with fury on the inside, Derek pursed his lips as he reached up with both of his hands, thumbing his nipples for the crowd. Derek was virtually begging himself to stop, but those pleas were quickly erased when he felt his cock start to harden from showing off. His hands dropped to his pants and before he could try to stop himself, the werewolf tore the denim away.

Clad in only his tight boxer briefs, the frantic Derek could only smile as he gyrated his hips, causing his hard cock to bob noticeably back and forth.

The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers as Derek was egged on.

Derek straightened up and held his head up high, his stiff legs carrying himself off the dance floor and over towards the table where Stiles sat at. Despite the cocky smirk on Derek’s handsome face, his eyes were wide and panicked, and he hoped that his fiancé would figure out a way to help him.

“I heard someone’s about to get married,” Derek said in his deep voice, crossing his thick arms over his beefy chest.

Stiles looked up from his drink, his eyes going wide at the side of the nearly naked Derek. Coughing on his cocktail, all he could do was nod.

Lydia was the only one who seemed to have her wits about her. “Derek?” she snorted. “Why are you crashing—”

Derek stepped in front of her to approach Stiles directly, smiling widely despite his freaked out eyes betraying his cocky expression.

“Well,” Derek heard himself say, “I hope your future husband can take care of all your needs.” He felt himself turn around and flex his meaty bubblebutt. He playfully bent over, wiggling his perky butt for his fiancé, feeling cool air pass over his cheeks more than it should have. Derek looked down at his crotch, inwardly wincing at how his boxer briefs had somehow morphed into a tight, black thong. The pouch was filled to bursting with his massive cock, and suddenly, he could feel the small strap of fabric slipping between his huge cheeks, allowing his bubblebutt to be on full display. To add to it, cuffs appeared on his wrists while a collar and bowtie magically popped around his neck. Derek cringed at his new, slutty outfit, but his body only fed into it.

Derek turned back around and flexed his large biceps in front of Stiles’s awed face, briefly leaning down to lick his massive mounds. His pecs bounced up and down, and Derek grabbed the back of Stiles’s head, pulling it forward so that his face was shoved into the crevice of Derek’s impressive pectorals. Despite being extremely embarrassed by his actions, Derek couldn’t deny that he was also turned off by showing off for his fiancé.

Erica drunkenly tossed a few dollars at Derek’s feet, and Derek felt himself up the ante.

His thumbs hooked into the thin straps of his thong and he quickly tugged the skimpy fabric down, allowing his hard seven inches to bob out in the open air for everyone to see.

Derek was screaming on the inside, but all he could do was helplessly smile and wrap his fingers around his thick cock. He moaned loudly as he began to jerk himself off in front of Stiles, a growing crowd forming behind him to watch the show. When he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, Derek dropped to his knees and eagerly buried his face in Stiles’s covered crotch.

Stiles immediately grew hard, and despite having about a billion questions regarding way Derek was acting the way he was, he couldn’t help but give in. He unzipped his pants and allowed his slutty fiancé to fish his cock out.

Derek felt himself lean in and take all of Stiles’s cock into his mouth hungrily. He couldn’t prevent his loud moans from thundering out from himself as he sucked off his fiancé. Derek wasn’t used to being the one giving a blowjob, but he was somehow able to deep throat the entirety of Stiles’s cock, even pausing a bit to lap at his slit. Worse was that he couldn’t stop himself from flexing his muscles and wiggling his huge muscle butt, the squishy globes jiggling wildly behind him for the crowd to gawk at.

No matter how humiliated Derek felt, he couldn’t ignore how great it felt to suck off his fiancé— plus, it was even more amazing for having others to cheer for him. 

Stiles tensed up and came, shooting his hot load straight down Derek’s throat. The werewolf greedily guzzled it down, moaning loudly as he did so.

Derek felt all of the large muscles in his body flex and bulge as he came, shuddering as he unleashed his load all over the floor of the club. He moaned loudly as he came, made all the more worse but he fact that the whole crowd cheered him on as he came. As he panted in his post-orgasm, Derek finally felt his blush take over his face, being back in control of his body again.

“Damn, Der,” Stiles breathed as he tried to catch his breath, “you’re the best stripper I’ve ever seen.”

Despite himself, Derek felt himself grow hard again and he couldn’t help but smirk upwards at his future husband. “Well, lucky for you I have lots of moves I can try out on you,” he said, surprised that he meant it.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 23: Ghost Possession

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Despite being a werewolf, Derek didn’t believe in ghosts. In his opinion, they were the cheap product of Hollywood trying to advertise uncreative horror films. He would scoff at the young adults who’d dared one another to sneak into McFadden Manor, only to hear them swear up and down that they’d seen a ghost. Lies, Derek figured.

Still, when Stiles had made up his mind to investigate the ghost stories surrounding McFadden Manor for Halloween, Derek had instantly jumped at the chance to tag along in an attempt to look brave and woo the hyperactive human. 

Unfortunately, Derek couldn’t hide the grimace as he walked through the deserted McFadden Manor. The abandoned mansion was the center of numerous spooky, Halloween-themed tales— all of them focusing on a mischievous trio of ghosts who liked to mess with unsuspecting people. The wide smile on Stiles’s face deeply contrasted with Derek’s scowl.

He eagerly held up an ancient-looking camera. “We should split up and cover more ground,” he said. “I’ll go down towards the garden while you inspect the bedrooms. Radio me if you see anything.” He shoved a large, dinosaur era walkie talkie towards the werewolf.

“I can just text you…” Derek muttered, studying the heavy tech in his hands.

“Thanks for coming with me again, Der,” Stiles said, offering the usually grumpy werewolf a sincere smile, making the alpha’s heart flutter in his chest.

In response, Derek puffed out his muscular chest with pride, his pecs pressing teasingly against his thin, white t-shirt. “S’no problem,” he grunted, trying to play it cool, but he could feel his cheeks grow hot as he blushed. Plus, he couldn’t help but crunch his stomach to make his abs pop against his shirt too, his muscular bod being his best form of flirting since he wasn’t really good at wooing orally.

Stiles happily ran down one of the dark hallways towards his destination, Derek not-so-subtly watching his perky butt as it disappeared.

“Damn,” Derek admired before frowning at the sight of the decrepit mansion. “Damn it.”

Frowning again, he shrugged his broad shoulders and lumbered throughout the dark, cobweb-filled halls. To humor himself, Derek sniffed at the air, smelling nothing in the air except for dust and rats. He rolled his eyes at himself participating in this foolish activity, yet, he forced himself to focus on the endgame: Stiles and him getting together… and then heatedly fucking in his Camaro.

That last thought put a little more pep in Derek’s steps as he explored the empty rooms in the mansion.

*Thud!

Derek tensed up at the sound that echoed out from one of the bedrooms. Following the source, Derek entered a room near the end of the hallway. The room turned out to be a bathroom, the rusty toilet giving it away. There was a dust-covered sink with a dirty mirror near the entryway, and in the far end was a standing tub with a yellow curtain closed over it.

Derek cocked his eyebrow in confusion over the fact that the water seemed to be running in the tub, steam even billowing out from the curtain.

“What the hell?” Derek wondered aloud, knowing that there was no way this house was occupied given its dilapidated state. Still, the running water left the werewolf deeply confused. He grabbed the edge of the shower curtain and ripped it to the side.

Inside of the tub was a portly bluish figure that was slightly transparent. Looking like a caricature ripped out of a cartoon, the ghost had a little tail that seemingly phased in and out of existence as the creature showered. When it noticed that it was being watched, the ghostly figure looked over at Derek and gasped, covering its lower half with its hands… despite there being really nothing to see.

“Do you mind?” the ghost scoffed.

Derek was stunned silent for a moment, his eyes wide as he stared at an actual ghost that was floating before him. “Holy shit,” he finally breathed. “You’re a fuckin’ ghost!”

The ghost exaggeratedly rolled its eyes at Derek. “No shit,” it huffed in a baritone-filled voice that only emphasized its rotund girth. A sly grin formed on its translucent face and its eyes sparkled. “You know, most fleshies tend to avoid this place because of me and my brothers, but here you are.” He sniffed at the air, his smile growing wider. “A werewolf?”

Derek flinched and took a cautious step back.

The ghost continued. “We don’t get a lot of your kind here,” he chuckled. “Your bodies tend to be a little more sturdy. This should be fun!”

The ghost lurched forward at lightening speed, much faster than Derek’s werewolf instincts could react. Since his jaw was still hanging low in shock, the ghost aimed right for the alpha’s agape mouth. 

Derek felt his mouth being stretched to the limit as the ghost squeezed himself inside of him. It was a difficult sensation to describe. Thanks to the ghost’s vapor-like body, it felt as if there was a gust of air that was keeping Derek’s jaw thrusted down as it shoved itself in. Cartoonish stretching noises, like rubber, sounded out as the ghost entered the werewolf. Derek felt himself getting fuller and fuller, feeling as if he’d just eaten a multi-course meal and was stuffed to the brim.

With a simple pop, the ghost finished his entrance and successfully squeezed his rotund body deep inside of Derek.

The werewolf felt full, his stomach and even lower end of his throat feeling as if there was a thick soup trapped in it. Derek stumbled around on shaky feet, trying to piece together what had just happened. The ghost squirmed a little as he settled in under Derek’s skin, the werewolf wincing at the sensation. 

“Damn, I can’t believe that worked!” Derek heard himself exclaim. “I usually have trouble fitting inside tiny bodies.”

Tiny? Derek balked.

Derek’s tingling limbs appeared out of his control, and the more Derek tried his best to strain and walk on his own accord, the more horrified the werewolf grew as it dawned on him that he wasn’t in control of his body. He even attempted to open up his mouth and demand that the ghost leave his body, but he couldn’t even do that— instead, Derek was more so a passenger inside of his own body. He could still experience every sense, smelling and feeling everything around himself, but he couldn’t move or speak on his own.

He felt his legs propel him forward, turning around to look into the mirror. Derek bristled at his own reflection which only smiled back at him, his smile eerily similar to that of the ghost’s.

What the fuck are you doing to me?! Derek roared on the inside. Get the fuck out!

The ghost only shook Derek’s head mockingly. “No way,” he said, making Derek’s body and voice say it on his behalf. “I kinda miss having a body so I’m gonna hang onto yours for a bit. The name’s Fatso, by the way.”

That’s a stupid name.

The ghost shrugged. “And this is a stupid body,” he countered, exploring Derek’s body, running his hands over it. Derek could feel every touch, unable to stop feeling himself up. “There’s barely any room inside of here. Let’s fix that.”

Derek screamed on the inside as he witnessed his stomach shudder before it expanded outwards. His gut grew in size and it rounded out as Fatso forced it to bubble out. Derek’s chiseled abs disappeared as a thick layer of fat appeared over them, going from firm to large and jiggly. It grew bigger and bigger, becoming huge and bulbous as it jutted far out in front of Derek, looking as if he’d swallowed a yoga ball instead of a ghost. To add to the inflation, even Derek’s pecs packed on some fat. They lost some of their tone as they grew larger and saggier, resting atop his enormous belly. There was still some traces of Derek’s large muscles underneath his new girth, but instead of looking like he lived in a gym, he looked more like some ex-jock who was in the middle of a perpetual bulking phase.

What the fuck did you do to me?! Derek roared on the inside, wincing as he examined his new body in the mirror. He must’ve gained well over fifty pounds, with most of it centered on his new gut. His mysterious growth had torn his t-shirt to shreds, forcing him to see all of his girth at once. Despite looking hard and solid, Derek winced at the way his gut hung over his jeans, sagging slightly.

Fatso mock-frowned. “Don’t be like that,” he taunted, putting both of his hands on the sides of Derek’s new belly and giving it a playful shake, causing it to bounce wildly. “I think you look much better with some more meat on our bones. Now there’s some food in the kitchen that we can eat.”

Eat? You mean you want me to get even fatter? Derek protested, unable to prevent his body from waddling out of the bathroom and down the hallway. His thicker thighs rolled over one another as he moved, and his rotund belly stuck so far out in front of himself that he couldn’t even see his feet. He inwardly flinched every time his foot thudded against the hardwood floor, sending a ripple through his belly and pecs.

Fatso forced Derek into the kitchen, where he made him lumber towards the fridge. Derek was surprised that when it opened, it was stocked full of food that looked like it’d just been bought earlier that day as opposed to sitting for years untouched.

Derek felt his arms lurch forward, grabbing fistfuls of various treats and snacks. 

“The only downside to being a ghost is that you can’t eat a lot of food,” Fatso lamented. “But the good thing about possessing a werewolf fleshie is that you can gorge on tons and tons of junk food. Much, much more than a human can!”

No! Wait! Derek pleaded.

His pleas fell on deaf ears as Fatso eagerly shoved loads of food into Derek’s mouth, moaning loudly as he tasted all sorts of flavors. Salty, sweet, savory— all kinds of different foods were shoved down Derek’s eager throat, none of them low-calorie.

The entire time, the werewolf inwardly begged Fatso to stop gorging on so much junk food. However, the ghost was paying no attention to him, moaning loudly as he devoured everything in the fridge.

In the center of the fridge was a delicious looking, three-tiered cake with bright pink frosting. Derek could feel his mouth salivating as his eyes honed in on the monstrous dessert. 

Before Derek could uselessly plead with Fatso again, his hands grabbed at the cake as he greedily gobbled it down. All he could taste was the sugary frosting and the chocolate center of the cake, grimacing at the sweetness, yet Fatso loved it.

Derek inwardly froze when he felt something horrible: his pants felt like they were getting tighter.

It was hard to tell since Fatso controlled his line of sight, but Derek could barely make out his gut growing more and more into his field of vision. It didn’t take long for the werewolf to put two and two together to figure out that, thanks to Fatso’s overeating, he was getting even bigger.

His big belly was starting to jut even further away from his torso as it packed on even more size from the delectable cake. His pecs felt heavier as they grew in size, his nipples even stretching out from the sheer expanse of his enlarged chest. Love handles formed and drooped slightly over the edges of Derek’s pants, which felt painfully tight by now.

Pop!

The button on Derek’s pants finally gave out, ricocheting off and landing on the floor. Derek felt a sense of relief as he continued to fill out, his ass puffing out as his cheeks ballooned out and became large and squishy. To account for his larger rear, Derek could even feel his thighs starting to push closer together as they blew up. As Fatso continued to eat, Derek’s body went from bulky to chunky linebacker status, looking incredibly large as if two of him were shoved together into one body.

Fatso fit the last few bits of the cake into his mouth, swallowing it down loudly and straightening back up. He patted his large gut, satisfied, before letting out a loud burp.

“I always gotta get a big cake before every Halloween thanks to silly guys like you who want to come play detective,” he smiled, rubbing his hand up and down his distended belly. “This was nice. See ya next year?”

Derek let out another loud belch, this one accompanied by a flash of blue as Fatso left his body to fly somewhere else in the manor.

Finally in control of his body, Derek gasped loudly as he ran his shaky hands all over his enlarged form. For some strange reason, even with Fatso gone, Derek was left with his added weight, looking massive and round. He took an awkward step forward, blushing as his entire body seemed to jiggle. He couldn’t see anything past his large belly which definitely wouldn’t fit in any of his clothes anymore.

“Damn it,” Derek huffed, giving his gut a tentative poke. “I have to do so many crunches to get this down to size…” He trailed off when his stomach growled, a deep hunger taking over him.

“Hey, Der,” Stiles called out, his footsteps approaching, “still no sign of any ghosts. I’m starting to think that they’re just stories.” Stiles froze when he reached the kitchen, his eyes nearly falling out of his head at the sight of the fatter Derek.

“Um,” Derek blushed, scratching the back of his head nervously, “I think I found a ghost—” He paused when Stiles stepped forward and placed a soft hand on his rotund belly, rubbing it up and down.

A smile forming on his face, Stiles couldn’t help but look up at the large werewolf. “Do you like belly rubs?” he asked, playfully rubbing Derek’s gut.

Although he couldn’t see it thanks to his big gut blocking his view, Derek could feel his cock rocket to attention, already oozing as Stiles gave him a belly rub. “Y-yeah,” he breathed. He blushed again as his stomach growled a second time.

“Big boy’s hungry?” Stiles teased.

Derek just eagerly nodded, looking forward to eating cake and getting more belly rubs from Stiles. 

All in all, it turned out to be the best Halloween of Derek’s life.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 20: Jock

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20

Derek sighed as he walked into his bedroom for the night, feeling incredibly drained from his argument with Eli. “I just don’t get it,” he huffed, throwing himself down onto the bed in a huff. “No matter what, we just can’t seem to see eye to eye.”

Stiles frowned and ran a caring hand over his husband’s chest. “He’s a jock,” he said. “All his high speed brain can focus on it sports.”

Derek frowned deeply. “I guess,” he growled. “I just wish that I could understand him better. Like, as if we were on the same wavelength.”

Derek lied back and rested next to Stiles, having trouble sleeping due to his fight with his son. He and Eli had been fighting with one another lately, usually due to typically father-son issues, such as Eli letting his grades slip due to his intense interest in sports, which tended to lead to Derek threatening to pull Eli from whatever team he was on that month. His son was a total jock, something that Derek didn’t really experience while in school.

As Derek drifted off to sleep, he felt his limbs tingle, his mind constantly wishing that he could understand the jock better…

The alarm blared, and Stiles sleepily slapped it silent.

Derek stretched his muscled arms above his head, yawning loudly as he woke up. As he moved, his face scrunched up as the stench of musk and sweat hit his nose, emanating in waves from his hairy pits.

Even Stiles could smell it with his dulled human senses, jerking back and plugging up his nose. “Damn Der,” he gasped, “no offense, but you reek.”

Derek felt his face grow warmer as he blushed. “Yeah, Bro,” he heard himself balk in his deep voice, “I must’ve worked up a big sweat last night.” Derek was puzzled over how deep and slow his voice sounded, and the way he’d called this husband “Bro”.

For a brief moment, Stiles scrunched up his brow in confusion, but it smoothed out rapidly as a small grin formed on his face. “Typical jock,” he lightheartedly laughed, slowly getting out of the bed to get ready for work.

Jock? Derek puzzled over what Stiles had said as he got out of bed, his body automatically lumbering towards the dresser. He yanked open the top drawer and paused as he was greeted with an array of jockstraps— his boxers nowhere to be seen.

As if his body had a mind of its own, Derek felt his muscled arms move and snatch up a jockstrap. He yanked the small garment on, the pouch filled to the limit with his massive cock and balls while his perky ass bubbled out the back.

“Don’t you want to take a shower?” Stiles asked, the tone in his voice indication that he’d hoped that Derek would listen to him. 

“Nope,” Derek heard himself scoff, answering without any thought of his own. He even leaned down and sniffed at one of his stinky pits, the musky stench filling the confines of the bedroom. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m gonna get all sweaty at practice anyways. So what’s the point?”

Practice?

Derek was so caught up in his odd behavior that he’d barely noticed when he’d opened up another dresser drawer, grabbing a football jersey. He yanked the tight garnet on, noting how his muscles pressed against it, illustrating his athletic prowess. Next, he grabbed some small workout shorts that only came up to mid-thigh and were so tight that his butt and package pressed noticeably against it, almost as if they were on full display.

When he looked at himself in the mirror, Derek inwardly winced at the dim smile on his face. He still looked the same, with his mature and masculine beard that had flecks of gray in it; however, he felt ridiculous being dressed up like a total jock, feeling childish.

His body evidently wouldn’t let any of his inner turmoil show as he lifted up a buff arm, flexing a large bicep. “Damn,” he heard himself say, “I’m getting fuckin’ huge, Bro!”

Despite himself, as Derek flexed in the mirror, he felt his cock start to stiffen within the confines of his tight jockstrap. The pouch tented outwards as it struggled to maintain his meaty cock, looking as if the werewolf was smuggling a summer sausage in his pants. Instead of blushing or trying to conceal his package, Derek felt himself place this hands on his hips and shove his crotch forward expectantly.

“Hey, Bro,” he said, “I’m so fuckin’ horny. Wanna help me out?”

Stiles smiled at his husband, chuckling as he shifted off the bed. “Damn, Der,” he laughed, “that thing’s always cocked and loaded.”

Always cocked and loaded? Derek’s eyebrows rose as new memories filtered into his foggy head, being filled to the brim with Derek being hard and rutting against whatever crossed his path. The stud was always incredibly horny, his cock seemingly rocketing straight to attention after a few moments after cumming. He wanted to blush at the image of himself sauntering down the street in his tight jerseys, his hard cock pressed tightly against his thick thigh for all to see.

Derek’s frantic thoughts slowed down significantly as his husband dropped to his knees in front of him, wasting no time in taking in his full member.

“Oooh!” Derek loudly bellowed, his deeper sounding voice bouncing off the thin walls in the house. “Yeah, suck that cock, Bro. Bet it’s the biggest ya ever had!” The normally silent werewolf couldn’t keep his mouth shut as he was sucked off, moaning loudly and cockily bragging about his cock. No matter how humiliated the alpha was over his uncontrollable behavior, he couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of pleasure that washed over him. All of his panic was momentarily forgotten until all of his ample muscles tensed up. “Uunghh!”

Derek cried out as he came, shooting what felt like the biggest load of his life. He was left spent and trying to catch his breath as Stiles stood up and went about getting ready for his day at work.

“Thanks, Bro,” Derek heard himself say. “I gotcha next time!” Already, at the mere suggestion of sucking off his husband, Derek’s cock plumped up and it took him a few moments to realize that he’d been absentmindedly fondling his hard bulge after tucking it back into his jockstrap.

As the werewolf continued with his morning routine that didn’t involve a shower, he couldn’t help but wince whenever he lifted his arms and his musky stench would waft out from his pits, smelling as if he’d just finished a killer workout at a crowded gym.

Derek walked downstairs and paused at the front door where Stiles gave him a quick kiss. “Can’t forget this, Coach,” Stiles said, handing Derek a silver whistle attached to a small chain necklace.

Derek was confused over both the whistle and why Stiles had called him “Coach” for some reason. However, the confusion quickly vanished when Derek realized that he no longer worked at his auto shop but was instead a coach at Beacon Hills High School. His stomach dropped when he tried to recall the massive amounts of paperwork that were supposed to be waiting for him on his desk at the shop, all of them detailing receipts and parts on orders; yet, now the werewolf’s muddled brain struggled to comprehend what all of those numbers meant. He paled even further when his knowledge of business management wasn’t the only thing gone. In a panic, Derek’s eyes darted around the house and sure enough, simple items seemed to be way beyond his mental grasp. For example, although he’d used it hundreds of times before whatever the hell happened to him, Derek stared at the coffee maker that was in the kitchen, unsure what all of the buttons meant… luckily Stiles was there to help him out since he was such a dumb jock.

Derek inwardly flinched at that last thought, recalling the stupid wish he’d made last night. He’d wished that he could understand jocks more.

Now Derek was a dumb, horny jock.

His days were filled with nothing except working out, playing sports, and fucking. That’s all a dumb jock like him was good for.

Still, Derek put the whistle around his neck and puffed out his large pecs against his tight spots jersey. “Thanks, bro,” he dimly smiled before leaning forward to rut his hard cock against Stiles’s thigh. “You gonna come during my lunch break to help me out with this?”

“Of course,” Stiles said, resting an admiring hand on Derek’s bicep, which the werewolf flexed out of instinct, “I can’t have my big jock going too long without any release. Poor guy would be all pent up.” He mock frowned, a hint of playful condescension audible.

Derek’s foggy mind didn’t pick up on it, and instead he just smiled back widely. “Yeah, Bro,” he agreed in his deep voice, “if I don’t cum at least five times a day, I can’t think well.” He paused at the odd words leaving his mouth, but then the alarm on his phone went off and he perked up. “Oh shit. I’m gonna be late! Love ya, Bro!” He kissed Stiles on the cheek before hurrying out of the house and lumbering towards his Camaro, his hard cock tenting out his tight shorts.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 17: Nippleslüt

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17

Alpha Derek Hale was taking a shower, a little irritated that he was rock hard and his husband was working the nightshift. Normally whenever Derek got a little frisky, he was all too happy to rush over to Stiles and go to town. However, he was a little miffed that he was all cocked and loaded, yet he was stuck all by himself with just his hand.

“Damn it,” Derek growled as he pumped away at his throbbing cock, even using some of Stiles’s shampoo to help do the trick.

Still, jerking off just failed in comparison to actually fucking. 

Derek was about to just give up and turn the water to ice cold when he spotted an unknown blue vial in the shower. Picking it up, he eyed it and read out the chicken scratch writing on the label that read out Liquid Lust. 

“‘Liquid Lust’?” Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes at his husband’s antics. Stiles had been practicing potions with Deaton, and every so often, Derek would find remnants of his experiments around the house.

Still, wanting to encourage his lover’s endeavors, Derek opened the vial and sniffed at the concoction. It reeked of musk, making the alpha gag and flinch.

Unfortunately, Derek’s jerky movements caused him to lose grip of the tiny vial in the shower, leading it to falling out of his grasp.

“Fuck!” Derek huffed as the smelly liquid fell out of the bottle and landed all over his hairy chest. It splattered across his pectorals, seemingly absorbing straight into his skin. The musky aroma clinging to Derek like it was emanating from him directly.

Immediately, Derek felt his nipples go hard. The little nips perked up before actually stretching out and elongating, inflating until they were large and nubby, looking like a pair of thumbs attached to his chest.

“What the hell?” Derek gasped as he looked down at his altered nipples. He tentatively reached up with one of his hands to prod at them. “What kind of potion is this— OOoohhhh!”

Merely grazing his fingers against his enlarged nipples sent a ripple of pleasure throughout Derek, his voice breaking out into a moan as his knees buckled. His cock throbbed even more, leaking precum. It was like a surge of pleasure never felt before. No amount of sex or jerking off had ever felt nearly as good as just touching his nipple just had.

“Wha-what the fuck is going on?” Derek panted, his meaty, hairy pecs heaving up and down as he struggled to catch his breath. His nipples seemed to burn with want, their own hardness competing with his cock’s, demanding attention from the alpha.

Almost unable to control himself, Derek reached up with both hands, running his thumbs over his hard nubs.

“Uuugghhh!” he squealed, his head rolling back as he toyed with his chest. The pleasure was mind-numbing, and Derek was helpless to do anything besides rub his nipples.

This soon turned to him grabbing a strong hold of both of them with his hands, lightly tugging on his huge nipples. It felt as if Derek had two cocks on his chest, his ignored dick bobbing uselessly between his meaty thighs as he pinched his big nips.

“Oohh fuuuck,” Derek bellowed out, the normally silent guy unable to stop moaning loudly, his deep voice echoing throughout the bathroom. “Holy shit, that feels so good— UUGHHH!”

Derek nearly shrieked as he came, his cock erupting and spewing out globs of cum that splattered against the linoleum in the shower. Basking in the post-orgasmic bliss, the werewolf felt as if he’d just shot the largest load of his life. He couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief as he tried to catch his breath.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, rinsing away his cum off the walls. His nipples remained perky and hard, and after masturbating by tugging on them once more, Derek finished his shower and toweled off.

He wiped the steam away from the mirror and frowned when he saw that his nipples were still huge and hard. They poked noticeably off his chest, looking ridiculous on his muscular, alpha male frame.

“Um, maybe this’ll wear off in the morning?” he guessed as he glanced at the vial of the liquid lust, finding no other information about it on the bottle. 

Derek stumbled over to his bedroom, biting down on his lower lip at the shiver that traveled down his spine as the cool air from the A/C blew over his hairy chest, caressing his hard nipples. Just that light sensation was enough to make his cock begin to stir back to life, but he tried to ignore it.

He walked over to his shirt to try to cover his chest, but that proved to be another problem.

“Uuughh!” Derek moaned out again as soon as he tugged his shirt on. His nipples poked against the fabric like crazy, and just the cotton running over the nubs was enough to cause his cock to go erect and shoot out cum.

Derek had to rip the shirt away off of him, panting as he gained a reprieve for his sensitive chest. “What the fuck’s happening to me?” he gasped, his nipples almost simmering in the air as they begged for his attention some more.

That night Derek barely got any sleep at all. He would try to lie down on his back, but whenever the covers brushed up against his hard nipples, he’d go rock hard and have to tug on his nips to ease his horniness. Whenever he tried to lie on his front, it led to the alpha uncontrollably squirming against the mattress, moaning loudly as he ground his chest against the hard mattress, loving how it felt to rub his nipples against it, but also humiliated over what a huge nippleslut he was turning into.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with these?!” he roared in frustration, looking down at his big nipples. 

When morning came, Derek was slightly relieved to hear the front door opening, meaning that Stiles had come home.

Derek leapt out of the cum-covered bed and raced downstairs to his husband, eager for some answers.

“Hey, Der— what happened to your nipples?” a tired-looking Stiles asked from the entryway once he saw the large nubs attached his husband’s muscled chest.

Derek gestured down at his nubby nipples with a shaky hand. “I accidentally spilt some of that liquid lust potion of yours on them, and now they’re— this! And they’re super sensitive!” he growled, his cock already starting to twitch at the mere thought of playing with his chest again.

Stiles’s eyes widened. “You messed with my potion?” he gasped in shock. “That was just a test. I don’t know if there’s a cure for it.”

Derek paled. “So I’m stuck like this?” he asked, looking down at his hard and sensitive nipples, imagining a life where he’d have to walk around constantly shirtless with his massive nubs on display. They’re so sensitive that he seriously doubted that he’d ever be able to get off again without someone playing with his nipples.

Stiles frowned for a moment before offering a meek smile. “If it helps,” he said, slowly reaching up, “I could play with them, if you’d like?”

He reached up and ran his thumb over one of the nubby nipples, and Derek instantly swooned.

“Ooohhh,” he moaned, his cock going straight to attention. “P-please, play with them some more.” He leaned forward and shoved his chest towards Stiles, looking forward to spending the day having Stiles play with his enlarged nipples, the nubs already tingling with anticipation.