31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 26: Twink

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Derek bumped into some small, tiny guy. The little guy wore comically oversized clothes as he ran off, looking panicked and frightened. 

“Fuckin’ weirdo,” Derek snorted, readjusting his gym bag over his broad shoulder. 

The 6’3” alpha sauntered into the gym to workout. Normally, the muscled stud preferred to lift or perform bodyweight exercises at home where he wouldn’t have to deal with a lot of people. However, after renovating his house, he didn’t want to mess it up with his musk, so he’d opted to get a gym membership. After a few weeks of working out at one of the local gyms, Derek was surprised to discover that he actually liked to work out in public. There was something about being one of the bigger guys at the gyms that filled him with a sense of pride. Towering over the other men and easily out-muscling them only cemented his role as an alpha, and Derek could only smirk as he threw his weight around the gym.

After changing in the locker room, Derek strutted out onto the gym floor clad in only tight gym shorts that strained against his powerful thighs. His impressive chest muscles were on full display as he moved towards the weight pile. His chiseled, plump pecs illustrated sheer masculine power, and Derek frowned a bit when he realized that the gym was virtually empty.

“Guess the other guys just can’t keep up,” he hummed to himself, grabbing the heavier weights on the rack and performing bicep curls like it was second nature to him. His bowling ball-sized mounds flexed with power as he lifted, and Derek couldn’t help but admire his bulky form in the large mirror.

Derek was so caught up in working out that he barely noticed when another gym patron walked up to the weight pile, grabbing a weight that was a little heavier than Derek’s.

This other guy rivaled Derek’s size, both in height and musculature, much to the alpha’s annoyance. This other guy’s thick curly hair reached the same exact 6’3” height as did Derek; that fact bothering Derek for some inane reason. Plus, this other guy also worked out shirtless, showing off his pumped up muscles that exuded manly power. His chiseled pecs were just as rounded as Derek’s, and when he lifted his weight, his bicep bulged to the same exact size Derek’s had.

The other guy glanced towards Derek and nodded at the lighter weight in his grasp. “My girlfriend likes to use the smaller weights too,” he chuckled.

Derek bristled at the obvious attempt to make him look weaker than the unknown douchebag. He just clenched his jaw as he set the weight down, opting for an even larger one than the other guy’s. Gritting his teeth, he began to rack out several bicep curls.

The subtle way the other man’s eyes widened caused the alpha to smirk, loving how his bicep pumped up to an incredible size. The arm burned with lactate and he could vaguely make out the other guy muttering something under his breath, yet Derek was too focused on trying to look like the bigger man.

Derek’s muscles burned from his workout, the burning sensation seemingly spreading throughout the rest of his body from his arm. The immense weight in his hand steadily felt heavier by the second, Derek chalking it up to reaching muscle failure. He thought that it was odd that he’d reached it in under a minute since he could usually lift heavy amounts of weight for a substantiated amount of time.

Derek grunted as he attempted to perform one more rep, yet his arm started to shake and he ultimately dropped the weight, letting it clang loudly onto the floor. 

The guy chuckled again, and clapped Derek on the bare shoulder. “Don’t worry, Little Guy,” he teased, “there’s no shame in starting off with the smaller weights. We all gotta start somewhere, right?”

Derek swallowed down a growl and instead tried to glare threateningly at the other guy to get him to leave him alone… but he stopped when he stared directly at the dude’s chin. Earlier, Derek could’ve sworn that they’d stood eye to eye.

Derek’s eyes widened when he witnessed the other guy actually growing. As impossible as it seemed, the other gym goer sprouted up in height, his muscles also packing on some serious size. His pecs plumped out even more and his arms took on some more consider meat. 

“What the fuck?” Derek muttered, freezing when he heard his voice. It was void of any baritone, making his voice sound lighter and almost squeakier, as if it had shot up a few octaves. 

Then the horror slowly dawned on Derek that the other guy wasn’t just growing, but Derek was also shrinking.

Derek watched as his line of sight kept slipping lower and lower, until he was staring directly at the other man’s plump pecs. It didn’t stop there though, as all of Derek’s muscles began to deflate. 

“What the fuck’s happening to my muscles!?” Derek squeaked out in his smaller voice, holding his arms out in horror as his biceps steadily grew flatter.

Derek was helpless to do anything except watch as all of his hard-earned muscles grew flatter and near nonexistent. His arms shrank until they looked like unremarkable sticks, lacking any bulges whatsoever. His pumped up pectorals gradually flattened as they shrank against his chest, looking smaller and smaller until his entire torso was flat— lacking major pecs or even any abs. Even his legs thinned out as quads and calves deflated, growing smaller until Derek had little twigs to stand on.

To add insult to injury, Derek paled as he squirmed and felt an uncomfortable bagginess in the front of his boxers, the front of his shorts looking flat.

When he was finally done shrinking, Derek stared at his skinny body in shock and horror, estimating that he must’ve lost well over fifty pounds of pure muscle, and that he had to have stood at a measly 5’3” now.

“Wh-what did you do to me?” Derek roared, but his lighter voice didn’t hold any sort of threatening quality to it at all. In his frustration, he tried to charge forward and pummel the now larger man, but as he swung his tiny fists at the man’s massive bulk, the other guy didn’t seem phased.

The big gym bully just snickered. “Sorry, Little Man,” he scoffed, gently shoving Derek away, yet the incredible difference in strength sent the tiny alpha stumbling backwards until he fell on his tiny butt with a thud. “There’s only room here for one gym alpha.” 

To illustrate his point, the larger man lifted his powerful arms and flexed his massive biceps which flexed to the size of small melons, easily out sizing Derek’s tiny stick-like arms.

Out of humiliation, Derek took off, sprinting out of the gym in a frenzy, embarrassed at how there was a lack of dangling sensation between his legs. He hurried into his Camaro and nearly wailed as he had to readjust his seat closer to the wheel because his shortened legs couldn’t reach the pedals.

As the tiny man sped off, a large bodybuilder entered the gym, his large muscles oddly already starting to burn the second the stepped foot inside…

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 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 18: Cockgrowth

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I asked…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then it kept growing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 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 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 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?”