31 Days Of Derek Hale

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.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 18: Cockgrowth

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Derek was an alpha werewolf, and with that, he was seen as the epitome of lupine masculinity. He towered over the other male werewolves in his pack and his muscles were always larger, more so due to his alpha genetics. He couldn’t help but also be turned on by the incredible size difference between himself and his boyfriend, Stiles. Derek was almost two feet taller and almost twice as wide muscular-wise. Derek Hale was an alpha through and through, with one tiny exception.

Derek’s cock was only four and a half inches.

Being below the national average for humans, Derek was humiliated over his subpar size. Over time, he’d fallen into the trope of being the big, mighty alpha who would pick on the smaller guy as a means of compensation for his size. And he’d counted himself extremely lucky that his boyfriend, Stiles, had been a virgin when they’d started dating, and therefore wasn’t really aware of the fact that his boyfriend’s dick was only about one inch away from being considered “micro”.

“Babe, do you think I’m small?” Derek frowned one night, looking down at his tiny dick that barely tented out his boxers.

Stiles, oblivious to his boyfriend’s inner turmoil, simply shrugged. “Don’t worry, Derek,” he’d smiled. “You’re the perfect size for me.”

“That’s not what I asked…”

One night, Derek had seen a mysterious Internet ad that promised “Significant Penile Growth” through some expensive pills. Desperate, Derek had immediately grabbed his credit card and ordered the pills. Once they arrived to his house, Derek wasted no time in ripping the package open and swallowing down a few of the tiny, blue capsules.

After swallowing the pill, it didn’t take long for Derek’s tiny cock to go rigid. The pert little thumb was rock hard, feeling as if Derek was harder than ever. His cock throbbed like crazy, and the werewolf barely registered any thought before his hand traveled south to wrap itself around his small cock and begin jerking off.

Derek couldn’t help but moan loudly as he toyed with his hard cock, his brain going numb from the pleasure that ripped throughout his muscled body.

Suddenly, Derek felt his fingers steadily start to be pushed apart.

“Huh?” he wondered aloud as he looked down at his cock, his eyes widening at what he saw.

As his cock throbbed, right at the pinnacle of hardness, Derek’s cock grew in both length and girth. As Derek jerked off, his cock would throb and jut further away from his body, gradually growing thicker by the second, causing his grip to loosen.

“Holy shit!” Derek cried with glee as his cock grew. “It’s growing!”

The alpha beamed as he witnessed his little cock go from four and a half inches to five, then six, seven, and eight. It thickened up from thin to the girth akin to a soda can, looking large and powerful— just as an alpha’s should.

But then it kept growing.

“Uh, th-that’s enough,” Derek muttered as his cock grew past the nine inch mark, his head almost purple from how hard he was. Precum started to drool out of it like a leaky faucet, and its sensitivity seemed to grow in intensity as did its girth.

Not to be outdone, the alpha’s balls grew in size as well, lowering and thickening to the size of ripe lemons. The thick size of his quads forced Derek’s newly enlarged package to be thrusted forward, his enlarged cock starting to look more like a third arm.

Derek could no longer keep his fingers touching each other, his girthy new cock becoming too large. He had to use his other hand to grip at it, his horniness overwhelming his panic as he jerked off his enlarged cock with both hands. It continued to grow to enormous proportions, finally passing the thirteen inch mark when—

“Uunnghh!” Derek squealed as he came, his muscles tensing up. His huge balls spewed out a large amount of cum, spraying all over the bedroom. It was significantly more than he’d ever came before, cum splattering everywhere at his feet and creating a mess.

It was such an intense orgasm that Derek was left panting, struggling to catch his breath. His meaty pecs heaving, Derek had to press his hand against the wall to steady himself. Finally softening, his mighty cock dangled past his knees, ridiculously long and thick, much past any reasonable proportions.

“What am I supposed to do with a dick this big?” Derek panicked, his eyes wide as he stared down at the massive anaconda that was his cock. Having spent so many years on the other side of the spectrum with a tiny cock, Derek was starting to feel apprehensive about having a cock that was too big… if that was even a thing.

His heart raced in his chest as Derek tried to think of ways he could even get dressed with a cock as big as his was now. There was no way he could manage to fit it into his pants, and even if he could, his huge cock and balls would press against whatever fabric dared to conceal it; its outline would be noticeable to anyone he passed by on the street without a doubt. Images of himself walking around in public with his swinging monster cock flickered into his mind, making him blush with humiliation. At least with his tiny cock, no one could see the outline of his dick through his pants. Now he doubted that any of his pants would even fit him in the first place!

Derek’s shaky hand gave his newly enlarged cock a tentative poke, and his knees buckled at the tidal wave of pleasure that rippled through him at that mere touch. “Oohh,” Derek moaned loudly as his cock rocketed to its full thirteen inches again, looking as thick as his muscular forearm. His head seemed as large as an apple, and it flushed as his cock throbbed with want all over again.

As Derek worried about his new girth, he didn’t hear Stiles walk upstairs and enter the bedroom.

“Hey, Der, can I borrow your chapstick— holy shit!” he gasped in utter shock when he saw the sheer size of his boyfriend’s cock. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but the first thing that he thought was that there was no way he’d be able to fit that thing inside of him.

“Oh, uh,” Derek blushed, his enormous cock throbbing in front of him. When he turned to the side, it was so large that it knocked over some of the objects on the nightstand, causing them to clatter loudly to the floor. “I just took a pill that said that it’d make me bigger, but I think it worked a little too well.” Despite his panic, Derek’s hard cock twitched as he looked over at his boyfriend, the thirteen inch monster aching with intense want.

“I, uh, I see that,” Stiles mumbled, unable to look away.

Derek scratched at the back of his head nervously. “Do you think you could help me out with this?” he asked, gesturing down at his massive cock. “It’s a bit unwieldy.”

“I don’t think that’ll fit,” Stiles admitted, “but I could try to jerk it off for you?”

Derek took what he could get, and hurried over towards Stiles, his giant cock bobbing wildly in front of him with every step. 

Stiles reached over and grabbed Derek’s large cock with both hands, loving how Derek’s head rolled back as he moaned with pleasure. Thanks to its exaggerated size, Stiles couldn’t wrap his hands around it all the way, so he was left to gripping it as best as he could, having to jerk it off with both of his hands. The head was much too large for Stiles to suck on, but he still leaned forward and playfully ran his tongue over the head, pausing to flick his tongue over the sensitive slit.

The whole time, Derek was rendered a lustful mess. He couldn’t prevent his loud moans from echoing throughout the bedroom, his large cock being extremely sensitive. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and all of his thoughts turned to mush as he was pleasured. His boyfriend’s hands on his dick was brining much more pleasure than any sex that they’d ever had before, and already Derek was thinking of how his sex life would be different. Given his cock’s new massive size, he knew that he’d be rendered to being jerked off or rutting against Stiles from now on, or even bottoming every now and then.

Derek tensed up as he came, blowing the largest load of his life, leaving him spent and panting. The force of his orgasm left Derek leaning against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. “Damn,” he breathed, “that’s new.” The alpha werewolf’s large cock dangled soft past his knees once more, and as his head started to clear, all he could think about was how much more of an alpha he must’ve looked like given his enormous cock that easily out-sized any other alpha’s.

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 30: Daddy

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Derek didn’t like being called “Daddy”.

The werewolf bristled whenever his boyfriend, Stiles, would call him it during sex, but would try to brush it off. It wasn’t because of anything too bad, really. Derek just associated the name with being old. When he’d admitted his dislike of the word to Stiles, Stiles understood, but there was a clear disappointment on his face. 

At first, Stiles accepted it and opted to call Derek “Daddy” in his head, yet after one day of looking through one of Peter’s magic books he got a mischievous idea…

Derek came home from work, his muscles feeling slightly achy from a long day at the auto shop. A dazed smile was on his face as he smelt whatever delicious thing Stiles was cooking in the kitchen, mingled with some random incense that was burning throughout the house.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek said as he walked into the kitchen, hugging his boyfriend from behind.

Stiles smiled back, “Oh hey there,” he greeted back, a playful tone evident in his voice. “Did you have a good day at work… Daddy?”

Instead of cringing like usual, Derek was surprised when he felt his cock immediately rocket to life. His seven inches went full mast the mere second he’d heard Stiles call him “Daddy”, even feeling goosebumps erupt all over his body as he shuddered with unfamiliar pleasure. 

“Um, y-yeah,” Derek stammered, his cock throbbing with intense need. He was confused over how turned on he was, but that curiosity rapidly disappeared and his face broke out into a playful smirk. Of course Stiles called him “Daddy”, as he frequently did in the bedroom.

Derek tightened his grip on his boyfriend and playfully rutted his hard cock against his butt.

Stiles pushed back into it. “Oh,” he grinned, “I guess you’re feeling a little frisky, huh… Daddy?”

Derek tensed up as his cock throbbed even more, twitching and leaking precum into his boxers. He felt so tortuously horny, licking his beard-framed lips with want…

Derek cocked his eyebrow and reached upwards with one hand, running it over his previously smooth face. The lower half of his face was covered with a thick, black beard that felt so large that it would’ve taken a few months to grow. It wasn’t Santa big, yet it was big enough to where it went past the typical gymbro beard and bordered Daddy-territory.

“Hey, Stiles, do I…?” Derek’s voice trailed off as he was about to ask Stiles if he looked different, feeling silly all of a sudden.

Of course Derek had a beard. He’d begun growing one the year he and Stiles had started dating, loving the way his beard tickled his boyfriend’s neck as he’d hungrily suck on it. Plus, he loved the way Stiles would shudder as his beard rubbed the inside of his thighs as he sucked him off, making sure he was a good daddy by taking care of his boy’s needs.

Stiles turned around and looked up at Derek with wide, admiring eyes. “What?” he asked.

Derek blushed a little and scratched at his beard. “Nothin’” he shrugged, “just having a weird day, I guess.”

Stiles mock frowned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Well, why don’t you change out of your work clothes, and I’ll finish getting dinner ready… Daddy.”

Derek bit down on his lip as his cock surged once more, feeling as if he was about to explode right there. “Y-yeah,” he panted, jerking back at the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Be right back.”

As he walked upstairs to their bedroom, Derek could’ve sworn that his voice sounded deeper. It wasn’t exaggeratedly deeper, but the baritone resonated a lot more and there was a more mature quality to it, almost manlier.

The werewolf kept puzzling over it as he entered his and Stiles’s bedroom and began to take off his grease-stained work clothes. As he shucked his pants, his hard cock bobbed wildly in front of him, and he was on the fence between taking care of it real quick and rushing downstairs to ask Stiles to handle it.

Snickering, he opted for the latter and made a move towards the door, clad only in boxers, when he stopped in front of the mirror and gasped loudly.

Derek leaned in even closer to his altered reflection in disbelief, marveling at the array of grays that peppered his hair and beard. As he ran a shaky hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair, Derek finally noticed the new lines that were near his eyes, indicating the slight beginnings of crows feet.

His heart raced in his chest as he looked like he was much older than he should’ve been, however, his cock throbbed once more and his fear evaporated into thin air.

“What a day,” Derek sighed, rubbing his mature face with his hands. Of course he looked a bit older for his age. He was a total daddy after all, and having a boyish face wouldn’t play into that role. 

Shaking his head at his dazed feeling, Derek went back downstairs, his tented boxers out in front of himself.

When he entered the kitchen, Stiles’s grin grew even wider as he looked his boyfriend up and down. “If you need some help with that, you gotta give me a second because this is boiling,” he said, gesturing at the pot on the stove. “But it shouldn’t take too long… Daddy.”

Derek grunted as his cock spasmed again, a large wet mark starting to form on the front of his tented boxers from his precum drooling out his hard member. He put on a coy smile of his own, crossing his arms in front of his hairy chest. “Well, you better make it quick, ‘cause Daddy’s getting impatient,” he grunted.

Again, Derek felt like something was off as he looked down at his hairy chest. The older hunk could’ve sworn that his chest was naturally smooth and typically devoid of any hair, but that thought was quickly proven wrong as he stared down at his hairy pecs and stomach. In fact, his whole body seemed to be covered in coarse, black hair. It covered his strong arms, thick legs, and even disappeared into his tented out boxers. 

Derek snorted at himself. Of course he was hairy, and he’d always melted at the sensation of Stiles running his fingers through his thick chest hair. He just chalked up his foggy brain to his insane horniness that he felt, his cock aching for his boyfriend to touch.

Derek squirmed in place, his cock twitching madly as Stiles finished up at the stove. Once the burner was turned off, Derek couldn’t contain himself anymore and eagerly rushed forward, easily tossing the smaller guy over his shoulder as he stomped towards the couch.

Stiles laughed. “Damn, I guess you’re really frisky,” he giggled, “…Daddy.”

“Hnng,” Derek bellowed as his cock leaked even more precum, his thudding footsteps sounding heavier and much louder than normal.

For the millionth time that hour, Derek scrunched up his face in confusion as he lumbered towards the couch. The way his thighs rolled over each other as he waddled felt wrong to him. Whereas Stiles felt lighter in his hold for some reason, Derek felt as if his own chest was much heavier than it should’ve been. He glanced downward at his hairy pecs, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull at the way his bulbous pecs jutted out in front of him, having ballooned to such a large size. They blocked the view of anything south, forcing Derek to stare at his hairy mounds and the tips of his nubby nipples. He blushed as he felt a foreign jiggling at his gut, and upon glancing at his blurry reflection in the TV, he could make out a large, hairy musclegut that his large pectorals rested upon. His boxers had magically disappeared, and the werewolf nearly sputtered at his massive ten inch monster cock that bobbed in front of him. Even his hairy butt had bubbled out, jutting out from his broadened back at a large angle. To finalize his growth, Derek’s arms had doubled in muscle, explaining away at how Stiles felt lighter.

It was hard to deny it now, as Derek stared at his altered reflection. The large muscled up, hairy older man who stared back at him from the TV’s glare. He finally pieced together what was happening: Derek was turning into a total daddy.

And he loved it.

As shocked as he was, Derek’s panic was quickly replaced with lust as he flexed his free arm with power, loving how big and manly it looked. He knew deep down that Stiles had somehow played a hand in this, and he loved him even more for it. Mental images of the two of them out in public, Derek completely dwarfing his smaller boyfriend who called him “Daddy” for all to hear filled him a giddy excitement, and he couldn’t wait to have Stiles run his fingers through his chest hair.

Derek tossed Stiles down onto the couch and loomed over him, smirking hungrily down at him. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and flexing his beefy, hairy muscles. “Who’s your daddy?” he bellowed in his deeper voice.

Stiles could only grin back up at him in anticipation before lowly whispering, “You… Daddy.”

“Uuughh!” Derek grunted as he came, loving how his bulky muscles bounced as his cock erupted, shooting his fat load up onto his hairy pecs. He knew deep down that he’d just cemented his transformation into a muscle daddy, but the second he looked down at his boyfriend, his enlarged cock shot straight back to life, and he pounced, forcing Stiles to take care of his daddy all night long.

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 31: Tyler Hoechlin to Derek Hale TF

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

-- -- --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HONK! 

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

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

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

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

“Name?” the bouncer asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek Hale smiled widely, absolutely loving his life.