31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 20: Jock

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

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

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

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

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

The alarm blared, and Stiles sleepily slapped it silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Practice?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now Derek was a dumb, horny jock.

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

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

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

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

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 28: Inflation

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

This was posted with permission from Super-Blimp [ https://www.deviantart.com/super-blimp ]. Thank you very much! And please go check out their work!

— — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at the size of that bubble butt!”

“He looks huge!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Boyfriend,” Derek squeaked.

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

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

Derek gulped loudly.

[Two Weeks Later]

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

“Are you ready, Der?” Stiles asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 30: Daddy

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

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 14: Whoopie Cushion

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

PFFTT!

The fart sound echoed out in the home office as soon as Derek sat down in his chair, his eyes widening and his face turning slightly red as the others in his Zoom meeting cocked their eyebrows at him.

The werewolf huffed as he reached under the cushion of his chair and pulled out a deflated pink whoopie cushion, the pink joke toy making him sneer at his husband and son’s childishness. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said to his coworkers. “My husband thinks he’s funny.”

The rest of the Zoom meeting went without any sort of hiccup, however Derek kept the whole whoopie cushion fiasco in the back of his head, biting back a growl over how foolish it had made him look. The alpha werewolf certainly wasn’t known for his stellar sense of humor, and while he cherished his husband Stiles’s silliness and the way it’d rubbed off on their son, Eli, there were times when Derek grew tired of being the butt of their jokes and pranks.

That led the patriarch of the Hale Household to rally up his family into his van and speed down to the local prank shop, whoopie cushion in hand.

“Der, you don’t need to return the cushion to make a point,” Stiles moped in the passenger seat. “Besides, it’s used. They won’t take it back.”

Derek silently brooded, clenching his jaw in irritation. He hated to look like a stick in the mud, but he felt that someone had to be the serious one in the household, and unfortunately, that responsibility landed on his shoulders.

He pulled up into the store’s empty parking lot, and stormed out of the van. Derek stomped into the store and slammed the deflated whoopie cushion onto the counter in front of the startled old man.

“What kind of adult sells childish toys like these… to other adults?” Derek roared, flinching at the last part of his statement.

The old shop owner simply readjusted his glasses as he stared upwards at the angry werewolf, his lips pursed into a thin line. “It’s just meant for fun,” he tried to explain. “Why don’t you try to loosen up and just have a laugh every now and then?”

Derek bit back a growl at the older man’s worse, feeling oddly defensive. “I am fun,” he snarled, “I just don’t have time for childish shit like whoopie cushions. These aren’t funny, they’re annoying!”

The older man didn’t look phased by Derek’s outburst and actually yawned. “You’re not fun,” he coldly muttered, before a chipper quality crawled into his scratchy voice. “But, I can help you with that.”

Before Derek could ask what the old guy was talking about, he felt an odd electric shock quality run all over his body. It caused the werewolf to tense up, his skin feeling tight for a second before all of his muscles seemingly relaxed.

“What the hell was that?” he asked the older man. 

The man seemed to fight back a smile as he stared at Derek, making the werewolf all the more angry.

Before Derek could take a swing at him or yell some more, he looked downwards in the direction of the man’s gaze, his eyes widening at the pinkish hue to his skin. Derek was normally pale, but now his skin was starting to brighten and look like it was a bubblegum pink, more akin to a pencil erasure than his usual skin tone. Weirder, and even more apt to the erasure comparison, Derek could smell the faint stench of rubber beginning to emanate from him in waves, making him cock his eyebrow.

Carefully, Derek reached over and pinched his arm, pulling back with his hand. The werewolf nearly yelped as his skin now possessed an elastic quality which caused it to stretch outwards beyond the realms of possible. Derek’s heart raced in his chest as he realized that he’d been turned into rubber!

A hiss like a tire being inflated echoed out in the small prank shop, and Derek felt his clothes growing tighter by the second. Looking downward at himself, Derek was shocked to witness all of the muscles in his body steadily inflating. He’d already been blessed with large, manly muscles, yet now they started to bulge out and round. They looked cartoonishly big, with round qualities to the point where he seemed more inflated than muscular, like most of his muscles were full of air. Even his cheeks puffed outwards; and speaking of cheeks, a lot of the growth was centered at Derek’s ass, which bubbled out into large beachball sized globes.

“Wh-what did you do to me?!” Derek roared as he explored his pink, inflated body with his shaking hands.

The older man just continued to fight back laughs. “I figured that this would help you learn how to laugh more,” he snickered.

“What does that even mean?!” Derek cried, taking a tentative step forward, flinching at the sound that echoed out.

Pfffttt!

Derek froze, his eyes widening before they narrowed towards the shop owner. “You turned me into a fuckin’ whoopie cushion!” he accused, holding his arms out to show off his inflated form. However, little poots were heard at the brisk movement, making the werewolf blush.

The older man waved his wrinkled hand dismissively. “It’s only for a few days,” he muttered before gesturing at the whoopie cushion on the counter. “Oh, and no returns on used products.”

With a growl, Derek snatched the whoopie cushion off the counter and stomped out of the store, bristling with every little fart noise that sounded out with each step he took. A few people out on the street would giggle in his direction, especially at the noises that he was helpless to make, making his pink face turn a dark red with embarrassment.

Worse was that once Derek reached the van, Eli and Stiles were stunned silent as they gawked at his whoopie cushion body… then they both burst out laughing.

Derek just bared his werewolf fangs at them in irritation as he opened up the driver’s side door and jumped into the seat—

PPPFFTTTT!

The loud fart noise boomed inside the van as Derek sat down, his inflated bubblebutt squishing like the perfect whoopie cushion it now was.

Immediately Stiles burst out into hysterics, going so far as to wipe tears from his eyes at Derek’s helpless fart noises.

Derek just grumbled to himself and gripped the steering wheel tightly, the motion causing little fart sounds again as he drove home, fart sounds echoing out every time the vehicle hit a bump in the road.

“Damn it, *pfft, this is *pfft ridiculous,” Derek groaned.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 12: Bunny Boi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 10: Bear

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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