31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 11: Pup

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11

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 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!

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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 12: Bunny Boi

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” Derek growled as he looked over the ridiculous outfit that was in the bag.

Derek had lost a bet with a fellow alpha, and as punishment, he would have to wear an incredibly embarrassing outfit for the day.

Derek grimaced at the lacy corset that had matching garters, and a cringey set of bunny ears to top everything off.

There was a loud knock on the other side of the bathroom door. “You better move it, Hale,” laughed Nate, the other alpha who was apparently a total freak.

“Son of a bitch,” Derek spat, taking off his leather jacket and jeans so that he could put on the stupid bunny outfit. The alpha werewolf slid on the panties first, rolling his eyes at how small they were. His cock was so big that it filled the tiny pouch to bursting, yanking the tops of the underwear downward to show off his trimmed bush and the base of his dick. Clenching his jaw, Derek pulled on the corset, which was at least two sizes too small for his muscular body. It was nearly impossible to close it shut around his thick waist, and his pecs completely spilled out over the top, his nipples poking out noticeably. It was so tight, in fact, that Derek felt as if his midsection was being squeezed so tightly that it shoved his pecs outwards even more. He put on the lace garters, feeling ridiculous the whole time.

When he was finally all dressed up in his humiliating outfit, Derek begrudgingly opened up the door, revealing a smirking Nate.

“Lookin’ good, Hale,” Nate whistled, making a show of eying the alpha up and down. “Oh, but wait! You forgot something.” He reached over and snatched the bunny ears off the sink before plopping them on top of Derek’s head.

“Gee, thanks,” Derek muttered under this breath, the headband attached to the bunny ears giving him a little headache.

“Well, c’mon, I’ll show you what chores you can do, and then we can call everything even,” Nate boasted as he stomped down the hallway, his broad back swaying with every powerful step he took.

Derek blushed as he took a step in his stupid outfit. His muscles squirmed against the tight fabric, making him have to almost arch his back in order to get semi-comfortable. The action only led to his large pecs being thrusted forward, his nipples resting atop the lacy corset, constantly rubbing against the soft fabric. The way the straps from the corset attached to the garters around his thighs made his steps resemble more of a mincing movement, soft and delicate.

Nate led Derek to a messy bedroom that completely matched Nate’s frat boy attitude. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, the bed was a total pigsty, and there were pizza boxes and empty beer bottles scattered all over the cluttered floor.

“Go ahead and start with my room,” Nate laughed.

“What a fuckin’ mess— Oh!” Derek squeaked when Nate gave his butt a playful smack. His cheeks bounced from the motion, and Derek’s face grew red.

Worse was that his cock twitched for some reason, almost thrusting out of the confines of his small panties.

“Fuck off,” Derek barked, stomping angrily into the messy bedroom, trying to shield his hardening member from the other man.

He snatched a trash bag out of the pile of cleaning supplies, starting to toss a bunch of the garbage into it. As he moved around, Derek’s nipples get rubbing up against the lace of the corset. It must’ve been due to the softness of the outfit, but it seemed as if Derek’s nipples were hardwired directly to his throbbing cock.

The alpha bit down on his bottom lip, trying desperately to resist the electrifying feelings that rippled through him as the corset stimulated his sensitive nips.

“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” Derek growled, tugging the collar of the corset downward to give his nipples some relief. However, once he let go and it snapped back into place, he had to bite back a moan as it started rubbing up against them some more.

As he continued to mince around the bedroom cleaning, Derek’s hard cock kept throbbing with want inside the tight confines of his panties. The cotton was stretched to the limit, and every so often Derek would give in and rub his aching bulge with one hand while using his other to thumb one of his nips.

Derek started to toss the other alpha’s clothes into the hamper. He flitted about the room, hard nipples and harder cock, bending down and grabbing fistfuls of Nate’s clothes. His musky scent clung to every fabric, that manly musk permeating Derek’s senses.

Derek grabbed a jockstrap off the ground, seeing that it was a size XL.

“Ooh, big boy,” he cooed, before flinching and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Why’d I just say that?”

His perky nipples still burned and his cock throbbed like crazy, at full mast. Still, it hadn’t burst through the small panties, and Derek couldn’t help but reach down again to feel himself up. His hand ran over his rock hard cock, freezing as his fingers grazed his bulge.

“I-is it smaller?” Derek gasped, looking over his pecs to the bulge in front of his humiliating panties. Sure enough, the lump in front of his meaty thighs wasn’t as prominent as it had been moments before, looking tight and compact.

Derek quickly tugged the panties downward, paling at the sight of the four inch cocklet poking out of his trimmed bush. With a shaky hand, Derek reached down at his shrunken member, wrapping his fingers around it.

“Oooh,” he moaned, unable to keep his lips shut at the surge of pleasure that rippled through him. Despite the panic that was coursing through his veins, the werewolf couldn’t help but fondle his tiny cock that made him feel even more ridiculous with his massive muscles in such a girly costume. He knew that he should be panicking even more, to tear the apparently cursed outfit off, but his frazzled mind was so clouded over with lust that it was difficult to think about anything else.

“Did I say that you could play with yourself?” Nate’s deep voice bellowed.

Derek jerked back and blushed as the other man stared him down. 

Nate smirked as he crossed his beefy arms over his large chest. Derek hadn’t noticed before, but Nate had large muscles that were so big and manly. His pecs stretched his t-shirt to bursting, and his biceps curled out the tight sleeves. His bulge in the front of his jeans was much, much larger than Derek’s diminished one. And manly musk radiated off of Nate in waves, making Derek’s mouth water.

“No, Sir,” Derek answered promptly, his voice light and almost airy. Instantly, he dropped his muscled arms to his side, his tiny cock throbbing as it stood at attention in front of him. The more Derek stared at the other alpha, the more his small cock throbbed and his perky nipples burned with want. His unknown desire was starting to creep up to higher levels, and he couldn’t help but shift his feet under Nate’s gaze, rubbing his thighs together in anticipation.

Nate gave a tsking motion with his finger. “Well, finish up then, Bunny,” he ordered. “Then I’ll let you play with your tiny nub.” He walked away.

“Yes, Sir!” Derek excitedly said, picking up his pace as he minced around the room, his pert little cock bouncing in front of him as he moved. 

He didn’t know why his heart raced at the thought of being ordered around by such an alpha like Nate. The frat boy was stacked with such manly muscles, and some of his chest hair curled over the collar of his t-shirt— a stark contrast to Derek’s smooth muscletits that bounced with every step he took. His little nub leaked precum the whole time he finished cleaning. Once he was done, Derek eagerly rushed over to Nate to deliver the good news.

“All done, Sir!” Derek reported, smiling widely at the alpha.

Nate looked away from the TV. He’d taken off his shirt, resting his arms behind his head, letting his musky, hairy pits air out in the open. “Good job, Bunny,” he grinned at Derek. “Why don’t you take your uniform off? Don’t wanna mess it up while you service your alpha.”

“Yes, Sir!” Derek happily gushed, practically ripping his panties and corset off. He paused for a moment as he looked over himself. His tiny, three inch cock was as hard as ever, yet it seemed so small and utterly tiny— especially in comparison to the large eight inches that Alpha Nate had. And even though his corset was off, Derek’s pecs were still pushed upwards and out, looking slightly larger and more bulbous than they should’ve. His nipples were hard and nubby, sticking off his muscletits like little erasures. Something was wrong, this wasn’t how Derek should’ve looked… was it? He didn’t know why a tiny voice in the back of his head shouted that he was supposed to be a manly alpha like Nate, not some sub bunny boy.

Nate unzipped his pants and fished his own cock out, letting his large member bob in the air. “You gonna stand there or are you gonna take care of this?” he bellowed.

Derek quickly squashed the voice in the back of his head and hurried forward, his muscletits bouncing with every minced step he took. Dropping to his knees, Derek leaned forward and hungrily took the entirety of Nate’s cock into his mouth, sucking it like a pro. 

“That’s a good bunny,” Nate teased, toying with the bunny ears that were atop Derek’s bobbing head.

“Mmmm!” Derek loudly moaned, his little nub spurting tiny droplets of cum as he sucked off his alpha, loving his role as his muscled up bunny boy.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 20: Jock

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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 26: Twink

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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…

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 15: Caveman

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Derek wasn’t proud to admit it, but he had a little bit of a jealous side.

Nothing brought out the green-eyed monster more than watching some guy try to flirt with Stiles, or even hearing Stiles comment on how hot he thought a certain actor was. The other day, Stiles was talking to Lydia, and he’d mentioned how he’d thought that the new Superman actor was cute. Derek had to swallow down a growl, and he’d not-so-subtly changed into his Superman t-shirt afterwards.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind too much, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He’d usually just laugh it off and give his husband a big hug, trying to calm him down.

This all came to a culmination when the water heater when out. 

“Der, I had to call a plumber to come fix the water heater,” Stiles told the werewolf. “He said he should be here soon.”

Derek just grunted from his spot on the sofa. He mindlessly munched on beef jerky as he watched TV, clad in just his sweatpants. He was so caught up in watching Alexander Skarsgård swinging through the jungle as Tarzan, that he’d barely heard the doorbell ring. 

“I’ll get it!” Stiles called out as he hurried over to the front door, swinging it wide open. 

“Hello, Mr. Hale,” a deep voice bellowed out, making Derek perk up, “I’m Chase, I’m here to fix your water heater.”

“Oh yes!” Stiles breathed, sounding relieved. “Come in, please.”

Derek turned around to stare down the other man who entered his house, frowning at the muscular stud who followed behind Stiles. The alpha werewolf couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in the direction of the plumber who wore a blue uniform. The young man was so built and muscular that he left the top three buttons of his shirt undone, showing off his impressive hairy pecs. His sleeves were rolled up, allowing his bowling ball sized biceps to curl out of them. In front of his tight jeans was a large bulge that made it look like the young man was smuggling a grapefruit in his pants. And when the plumber walked, his firm butt pressed tantalizingly against his jeans which were so tight that they rode a little low, giving credence to the term “Plumber’s Crack”. His dirty blond hair was combed in that style that made it look slightly messy, but sill manageable, and his lantern jaw was covered in masculine stubble. The dude seriously looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a porno.

Immediately, jealousy surged though Derek and he felt himself leap off the couch and hurry over towards Stiles, wrapping a possessive arm around his waist. He puffed out his own sizable pecs and forced a smile on his face. “Yes,” Derek almost growled, his voice rougher than intended, “please come into our home.”

Stiles shot him a look.

Chase only smirked as he entered the home, his heavy footsteps thudding loudly as he followed behind the couple.

“The water heater’s in the basement,” Stiles babbled on. “It went out last night and the water’s been ice cold ever since. You’re a real lifesaver for coming on such short notice.”

“It’s all part of the job,” Chase said, giving Stiles a crooked grin.

Derek bit down on his lower lip to hold back his snarl. “I could’ve fixed it,” he added hurriedly, “but I have a lot on plate since I run my own auto shop. So you know, management is very time-consuming work that only tough guys can do.”

“Wh-what?” Stiles wondered aloud.

Chase shrugged it off. “Sure,” he coughed. “A lot of wives tend to call me when their husbands can’t fix a simple appliance. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

Derek saw red and his fists shook with rage. He had to take a few deep breaths to prevent himself from phasing on the spot and mauling the cocky plumber… when a devious plan entered his head.

“It’s, uh, kinda hot down here,” he stated, forcing a toothy grin onto his face, “why don’t I get us some drinks.”

“I can get them,” Stiles offered.

“No!” Derek hurried, as he practically sprinted back up the basement stairs towards the kitchen. The werewolf tore through the cabinets as he grabbed three cups, making sure to grab Stiles’s favorite Superman glass. He then snatched the jug of Crystal Light out of the fridge before grabbing the secret ingredient from under the sink.

Derek couldn’t help but smile maniacally at the translucent powder that possessed a pink shimmer to it. It was a magical powder that Peter had made, claiming that it would cause “Embarrassing Side Affects that varied from person to person”. Derek had no clue exactly what that entailed, but he figured that annoying, sexy Chase would be the perfect tester to try it out.

The jealous werewolf made sure to pour Stiles’s glass first, setting it far away on the counter so that it wouldn’t come into accidental contact with the powder. That left two unmarked cups, and in his haste, Derek filled them both to the brim with the red Crystal Light. He then dumped a large spoonful of the mysterious powder into one of the glasses, marveling as it immediately dissolved, leaving zero trace of its presence behind. The giddy werewolf was so caught up in imagining all of the humiliating scenarios that played in his head involving Chase, that he put the jug of Crystal Light back into the fridge without memorizing which glass he’d spiked with the powder.

Derek froze as he stared at the two unmarked glasses on the counter, both of hem equally filled up with red juice. 

“Damn it,” he snarled, making move to dump them both down the sink to try again, but then something caught his ears.

The werewolf bristled as he heard Stiles’s laughter echo out from the basement, the deep bellowing of Chase’s annoying voice trailing behind.

With a ferocious growl, Derek dumped a spoonful of the powder into each of the unmarked glasses. He grabbed all three of them and raced back down the stairs, eager to break up the laughing session between the stupid plumber and his husband.

“H-hey, what’s so funny?” Derek asked, forcing a cheerful smile onto his face as he walked down the basement stairs. Despite his grin, his eyes narrowed in Chase’s direction. He walked up to Stiles and handed him the Superman glass that wasn’t spiked with the embarrassing potion.

“Chase here went to Beacon Hills High, too!” Stiles exclaimed. “I knew he looked familiar. We were in the same Spanish class.” He looked over towards the plumber. “You’ve put on some serious muscle.”

Chase held his head up high as he flexed a large bicep. “Yeah, I’ve been getting into bodybuilding,” he grunted. “You should check out my Instagram. I post tons of progress photos there.”

Over my dead body, Derek wanted to say, but instead he held out a glass for Chase. “Here,” he forcefully smiled, “I hope you like Crystal Light.”

“Thanks,” Chase obliviously said, accepting the glass and bringing it up to his full lips. He paused for a second, eying the water heater in the corner of the basement. “Oh, I can see a leak from here.”

“A leak?!” Stiles repeated incredulously, rushing forward to inspect the large machine as best as he could. “Where?”

Chase lumbered towards him, positioning himself way too close for Derek’s liking. “There,” he said, pointing towards a small spray of water.

For the millionth time, Derek was seeing red, beyond irritated that the muscleman was getting close and personal to his husband. In his anger, he briefly forgot that he was supposed to wait for Chase to take the first sip of his drink, and brought the glass up to his own lips to take a large gulp of the sweet juice.

Instantaneously, Derek’s eyes widened when he’d realized his mistake, quickly placing the half-emptied glass onto a nearby fixture. His heart raced in his chest as he waited for something to happen, holding his breath as he prepared for the worst.

“Damn,” Stiles frowned as he examined the leak, “do you see this, Derek?”

“Derek see,” Derek bellowed, his voice sounding much deeper and guttural than normal, making the werewolf flinch in shock. He had no idea why he’d referred to himself in the third person, so he cleared his throat and tried a second time. “Ook!”

Stiles only chuckled, his back still turned to Derek, thinking that his husband was just trying to be cute.

Meanwhile, Derek’s panic grew when he felt himself beginning to itch. He looked down at his chest and gasped as he watched wisps of black hair sprout all over his toned pectorals. The naturally smooth werewolf was stunned silent as he watched his hair thicken, and not just over his chest. He held his shaky hands up in front of his face, paling as hair grew over his arms, traveling towards his wrists and even his knuckles.

Derek felt his center of gravity rapidly shift, and he stumbled on his feet, falling over. He managed to catch himself before hitting the hard ground. Yet, he noticed that he was perched using his knuckles for support, reminding him of those lumbering gorillas he’d seen on TV. He tried to stand up straight on his two legs, but he could make it about halfway before toppling back down on all fours like an ape.

As a final touch, Derek nearly went cross eyed as he watched the bulge in his sweatpants steadily grow larger. The bulge inflated as it grew, causing his enlarged cock to stiffen and snake down his pant leg, looking ridiculously big on his toned, hairy form.

His heart raced in his hairy chest as Derek realized that he’d turned into some sort of monkey man. “Derek feel funny,” he muttered in his deeper voice, bristling at the awkward way he spoke. His thoughts were still coherent, but he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate with what he wanted to say.

“Huh?” Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder before gasping at his hunched over, hairy husband. “Derek?! What the hell happened?!”

“Ook! Ook!” Derek bellowed, jumping up and down in his crouched position. His blush deepened when Stiles walked up to him, standing tall above his hunched over body.

Chase only glanced over this broad shoulder before shrugging and continuing to examine the water heater.

At the sight of Chase’s glare, Derek felt his possessive side spark once more. However, instead of silently brooding, the werewolf felt himself puff out his hairy chest. His muscles tensed, he beat at his chest with both of his meaty fists, mimicking a large gorilla. Again, he internally winced at his uncontrollable actions, but he couldn’t help it. Derek could only bare his teeth as he beat his chest intimidatingly.

Stiles’s eyebrows lowered slowly as he put the pieces together gradually. “Ohhh,” he hummed, eying the glass of Crystal Light.

Derek stopped beating his chest and cheekily smiled up at his husband. “Ook!” he grunted, nuzzling against the other man’s leg in an attempt at an apology.

Stiles snickered a little bit. “You’re silly, Derek, you know that right?” he chuckled as he ran his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“Ook! Ook!” Derek happily cheered as he bounced in place, his hard cock bobbing up and down wildly in his sweats. It wasn’t his intention to turn himself into some feral caveman, but he couldn’t deny that he liked how Stiles was paying much more attention to him now than he was to Chase.

“Your husband’s weird,” Chase muttered, rolling his eyes at Derek, who only beat his chest in uncontrollable response. The muscled plumber finally brought the glass of red Crystal Light up to his lips, taking a loud gulp.

“Ook!” Derek grunted as he watched the changes happen automatically.

Chase must not have felt anything, but as he drank down the cursed drink, Derek and Stiles stared in awe as the large bulge in front of his pants shuddered before growing less prominent. The previous mound that had looked like a grapefruit grew smaller and smaller by the second until the front of Chase’s jeans were flat and unremarkable.

When the glass was empty, Chase lowered it and wiped his lips. “This tastes kinda funny,” he said, freezing up in fear at the sound of his voice. His usual deep baritone was gone, replaced with a cartoonish voice that was hilariously high-pitched and squeaky, sounding just like a chipmunk’s.

Stiles had to cover his mouth to keep from bursting into hysterics.

“Oook! Ook!” Derek bellowed, happily slamming his fists down onto the ground in victory. He couldn’t hide the dim smile that stretched out his face, and he puffed out his hairier chest with pride.

Chase blushed a little and cleared his throat. “Um, *ahem, what I meant to say, *ahem, what’s wrong with my voice?!” The muscle man clutched at his throat, his face burning red at the sound of his cartoonish voice.

Stiles, unable to contain himself, broke down and doubled over with laughter. “That’s not it!” he guffawed, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of the squeaky-voice muscleman.

“What do you mean?” Chase squeaked, stomping his foot in irritation, his voice making it sound more like he was throwing a tantrum than trying to be threatening.

“Tiny!” Derek managed to say, bouncing up and down excitedly on his feet and fists, like a chimp at the zoo.

“‘Tiny’?” Chase repeated, still blushing over the sound of his new voice. His eyes followed the direction of Derek’s stare. He gasped when he saw the flat front of his jeans and immediately unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down. The pathetic two inch nub looked completely out of place on Chase’s muscled frame. It was so small and puny that it was barely noticeable in his trimmed bush.

Chase screamed, his voice sounding even higher than before. He yanked his pants up and ran up the stairs in a hurry, exiting the house in a panic.

Stiles continued to laugh for a few more minutes before he was able to slightly contain himself. “That, haha, wasn’t nice Derek,” he tried to frown, but his chuckling ruined the mood he was trying to portray.

Still, Derek hung his head in shame. “Derek sorry,” he muttered in his slow voice.

Stiles smiled down at his husband and ran an admiring hand through his thick hair. “It’s okay, I guess,” he hummed. “You don’t have to be so jealous, Sourwolf. I love you.”

At this, Derek felt himself perk up, his lengthened cock rocketing to attention. The caveman werewolf beat his hairy chest with pride, a wide smile on his dim face. He then reached over and tossed Stiles over his shoulder, carrying him upstairs towards their bedroom as he readied to show his husband just what a wild man he now was.