31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 19: Action Figure

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Derek rubbed his temples in irritation as he wandered through the numerous aisles of the toy store. Aisle after aisle, row after row, brightly colored advertisements and countless useless objects with stupidly high price tags made his headache even worse.

Derek had come to the toy store to find a gift for his boyfriend, Stiles… who he had to point out was a legal adult. Stiles was just a total kid at heart and loved to collect tons of franchise memorabilia, which was something that Derek loved about him. And after falling for the whole “Oh, you don’t have to get me anything” trap last year and having to deal with the fallout, Derek was determined to get Stiles the perfect gift this year.

“Damn it,” Derek growled at the memory of Stiles giving him the silent treatment after his non-gift last year, quickening his pace as he stomped through the aisles in search of something great.

Unfortunately, Derek was having no luck.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he repeated under his breath as he entered an aisle chock full of superhero action figures. 

Derek hurried down the aisle, his eyes scanning the rows of plastic men all over. Each one of them was brightly colored in blaring blues and radiant reds, their over exaggerated muscles looking extremely round and out of the realm of anything humanely possible. Derek’s trademark frown deepened as he searched all over the aisles for the perfect one.

No ordinary superhero would do, especially since Stiles already owned so many. Derek shuddered at the thought of accidentally buying his boyfriend one that he already owned, just to get the side eye and accused of not paying attention.

“Damn it,” the werewolf repeated, annoyed. He frantically began to search the aisle, picking up toy after toy and holding it close to his face studiously. Sure, they were all painted colors and had a variety of “[Insert Random Item]-Man” across the box in bright, blocky letters. However, Derek couldn’t seem to remember which ones Stiles already owned.

In his panic, the werewolf grabbed a white box that contained a blank action figure in it: no facial features or costume painted on at all.

The second his fingers grazed the mysterious box, Derek winced at the odd spark that traveled throughout his body, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. 

“What the hell was that?” he muttered as he brought his hand up to his face to examine his still tingling fingers.

Derek’s eyes widened as he witnessed his fingers taking on a shiny quality. He scrunched up his face in confusion as his fingers gleamed more underneath the bright fluorescents of the toy store. His heart raced in his chest as they stiffened, becoming immovable as his hand apparently turned into plastic.

“Wh-what?!” Derek panicked as the strange transformation traveled down his arms. Weirder was that the werewolf swore that his muscles plumped up, becoming larger and much more exaggerated before they hardened into the same plastic quality as his hands. His signature black leather jacket vacuumed to his torso as his pecs widened and pushed outwards, becoming skintight. It then started to brighten as it went from slate black to royal blue. His jeans underwent the same changes, suctioning to his buffer legs as they brightened into a cartoonish blue that looked more apt on a superhero, not a regular guy wandering around the mall. Derek winced as his bulge seemingly shrank as it was pressed tightly against him. Derek painstakingly move an almost inflexible arm and patted at his groin, groaning as it felt flat and unremarkable like a Ken doll.

The tingling sensation spread up to Derek’s head, and the altered stud couldn’t help but try to reach up with his plastic limbs. His hair had hardened into a large plastic mold, becoming a lump of black plastic in the shape of his usual hair style. His face felt smooth and unblemished, and he couldn’t help but press both of his hands on either side of his head and give it a little squeeze.  Derek couldn’t hold back his gasp as his head squished and then popped back into shape, illustrating that it made completely out of rubber now.

The werewolf tried to run off, to seek help, but he was stopped by his massively hindered movement. Like most action figures, his limbs were stiff and rigid, their over muscled selves only posable at the main joints.

“Well, well,” hummed an irritatingly familiar voice, “that’s a nice look there, Derek.”

Derek struggled to turn around, his virtually immobile body and larger muscles making movement extremely tedious. He fought back a growl when he saw none other than Theo, the bratty chimera who didn’t hide his crush on Stiles.

The mischievous smirk on Theo’s annoying face was enough to clue Derek into the fact that he was somehow behind whatever was happening to him.

“What did you do to me?” Derek demanded, trying to threateningly stalk forward, but his posable joints made his movements awkward.

Theo shrugged his shoulders. “I was lookin’ for a birthday gift for Stiles,” he snorted, “and I know that he likes action figures, and for some reason he also likes you, so…” He gestured forward at Derek’s new plastic body. “And you’re just about done.” 

Theo snapped his fingers.

Derek felt as if his sense of gravity was thrown as he wobbled on his stiff legs. The shelves in the aisle seemed to grow taller and much larger. However, it quickly dawned on Derek that the store wasn’t growing— he was shrinking.

The werewolf was helpless to do anything besides get smaller and smaller, as his movements became harder and harder to create. Derek’s scowl softened and instead he held a stoic expression as his face hardened. Eventually, the former alpha werewolf had been turned into  ten inch tall super hero action figure, complete with big muscles.

“Perfect!” Theo laughed as he easily picked up the toy Derek, snatching the blank box in his free hand.

Derek inwardly screamed, but was helpless as Theo positioned his plastic arms in a manner that looked like he had his hands on his hips in a heroic pose. He was shoved into the box, and from his frozen position, Derek could barely make out the outside of his prison chasing colors to become bright and alluring. Unbeknownst to him, the outside of the box now read: Superwolf: the World’s Most Muscular and Cranky Superhero!

“Stiles is gonna love my gift,” Theo laughed as he walked action figure Derek over to the cashier.

The whole time Derek screamed at being turned into a toy, and he just hoped that Stiles would figure out a way to help him out… and another part of him hoped that Stiles would like his large superhero muscles.

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 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 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 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 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…