31 Days Of Derek Hale

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 31: Tyler Hoechlin to Derek Hale TF

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HONK! 

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

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

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

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

“Name?” the bouncer asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek Hale smiled widely, absolutely loving his life.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 21: Centaur

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“Fuck!” Derek roared as he stormed into the yard, hands clenched into tight fists. 

The werewolf was irritated over having nearly lost control of his inner wolf, and nearly wolfing out in public. Derek and Stiles had been out on a simple dinner date, when stupid Jackson had to show up and be his usual douchey self. Normally, Derek was able to keep his lupine instincts in check; however, the second that stupid Jackson had placed his hand on a clearly annoyed Stiles’s shoulder, Derek had seen red. He’d shot out of his seat and had unleashed a fearsome snarl, even baring his massive werewolf fangs in the jerk’s direction.

It had managed to get Jackson to cut his crap, but the action had also accidentally caught the attention of other patrons in the restaurant, who’d only stared awkwardly/fearfully in Derek’s direction. The ceaseless staring had totally ruined the night, and Derek had dragged Stiles out of there early, much to his chagrin.

“Der!” Stiles called out after the stomping werewolf. “It’s fine, really!”

Derek was still seething. Sure he was irritated with Jackson, yet he was more so angry with himself and how his lack of self-control had ruined his date with Stiles. Thinking about it more only served to bring out an onslaught of more anger-inducing memories about how being a werewolf was a pain in Derek’s ass.

His jaw clenched, Derek just huffed in annoyance. “It’s not fine,” he pouted. “And this whole werewolf bullshit is something that’s just going to keep causing us trouble.”

Stiles frowned and placed a tender hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” Derek huffed, “I wish I wasn’t a werewolf.”

On cue, a streak of light flickered through the night sky as a shooting star bolted across.

Immediately, Derek flinched as he felt a warm travel throughout his body. The first thing he noticed was that his pants were starting to grow uncomfortably tight. 

“What the hell…?” Derek wondered aloud as he looked down at himself. HIs eyes went wide as saucers when he saw his altered bulge in the front of his pants. 

His normally proportional six inches had somehow elongated, creating what looked like Derek was stuffing a ripe grapefruit in his boxers. It was obscenely large, and between his thick thighs, Derek felt balls that had to be the size of lemons. Worse was that back of his pants felt as if they’s burst at any moment.

Looking over his broad shoulder, Derek gasped at the caricature of a butt that was attached to him. His perky cheeks had somehow managed to balloon out to a crazy size, pushing further out with each second.

In his panic, Derek ripped off his pants, his breath getting caught in his throat at what he saw.

Never being one lost for words, Stiles gasped out, “Holy crap, Der! You’ve got a horse cock!”

Derek’s cock had grown to at least fifteen inches, and it was nearly as thick of his beefy wrist. His balls had swollen up to resemble baseballs. The werewolf didn’t have time to focus on that as he felt his weight being yanked back due to the increasing size of his booty.

His legs stretched out longer, causing Derek to sprout up at least two more feet in height. All he could do was stare in disbelief at his changing body, his heart beat loudly in his muscled chest as he wondered what was happening to him. His throat went dry as he witnessed his toes fusing together, his nails hardening to form hooves. 

His butt grew so big that Derek stumble back and almost fell, but he was caught by something.

Stiles’s wordless gasp mirrored his own as he looked back and saw that he’d grown an extra set of legs to offset his elongated backside. Derek blushed at how he must’ve looked, having his regular-looking torso sitting atop a lower half that was stretched out with four legs needed to keep it upright.

Derek’s altered lower half began to itch as thick, black fur sprouted all over it, covering every inch. It was glossy and looked shiny underneath the moonlight. As a final touch, Derek winced when he felt his distended backside tingle as he sprouted a long tail that swished back and forth.

The warmth finally dissipated, and Derek also felt an odd calm inside of his head, like his inner wolf was finally silenced.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Derek panicked, taking an awkward step forward in his new body, his hooves clacking loudly on the ground as he struggled to get used to walking. As he moved, his huge cock dangled around freely, making his face crimson.

Stiles’s mouth was agape as he looked over his changed boyfriend. Derek’s long legs were thick with muscle, which flexed with animalistic power with every heavy step he took. “Der,” he gasped, “you’re a centaur!”

“A what?” Derek groaned, pinching his nose in irritation. “When I said that I didn’t want to be a werewolf anymore, that didn’t mean that I’d rather be a centaur instead! How the fuck am I supposed to hide this thing!?” He gestured at his horse ass and cock, which were humongous and definitely would prove to be difficult to keep from prying eyes.

Derek stopped and sniffed at the air, still maintaining a keen sense of smell. And a curious aroma was wafting off of Stiles in waves.

“R-really?” Derek asked incredulously.

Stiles bit down on his lower lip and shrugged. “I played a lot of fantasy RPGs, and always liked the centaur characters… like, a lot.”

Derek felt his shock slowly fade, and he couldn’t help but grin coyly at his boyfriend.”C’mere, I’ll give you a ride,” he chuckled.

Stiles eagerly took his hand and hopped up onto Derek’s new back, wrapping his arms around Derek’s human torso. 

Derek marveled at how weightless Stiles felt as he carried him, and he began to trot towards the house… his swaying horse cock getting harder and harder. He just hoped that Stiles knew some special stretching techniques.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 12: Bunny Boi

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“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 25: Roided

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[Base Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/bbbelly/art/What-did-you-do-again-337582411]

Original Artist here: BBroidbelly

— — —

The host, Matthew Johnson, walked back onstage, eliciting thunderous applause from the crowd. He was a handsome man dressed in pristine white clothes that were tailored to tastefully show off his muscled body.

“Welcome back everyone to The Matthew Johnson Show,” the host smiled to the live studio audience. “We are continuing our series called ‘Living with Curses’. Just last week, we chatted with Scott, the man cursed to shrink down to only five inches tall!”

The audience roared with laughter at the memory of the pipsqueak Scott.

“But today,” Matthew continued, “we have another man here who’s been living with a curse for about two months now. And unlike Scott last week, this curse has caused this man to grow! Everyone, please welcome to the stage: Derek Hale!”

A stunned silence blew over the crowd as Derek Hale walked onto the stage… well, more like waddled onto the stage.

Derek Hale was a massive muscle monster! That was putting it lightly too, because the stud was insanely large. Almost as wide as he was tall, Derek looked like he was struggling to lumber around. His thighs were about as thick as the host’s waist, and they rolled over one another with every step the bulky man took. They pressed against each other, causing the man to have a wide stance. A bulbous roidgut protruded out in front of Derek, making him look almost pregnant with how massive it was. It was round and didn’t jiggle at all, indicating that there wasn’t a trace of fat on his over-muscled form. His pecs were huge and round, and they rested on top of his gut; large, nubby nipples poked noticeably against the tight t-shirt that struggled to contain Derek’s bulk. His back was wide and his shoulders were insanely broad, having to be large enough to carry his enormous arms. Biceps the size of Derek’s head tore through the tight sleeves of his shirt, pressing against his flaring lats that caused his arms to hang at ninety-degree angle.

Derek was so large that he made Matthew look puny by comparison. He was larger than any other bodybuilder that had ever been on TV, and he had such an enormous gut that it seemed to be the epicenter of his growth— being the largest part of him.

As he moved, the hunk breathed heavily and blushed bright red as the stage lights were on him, broadcasting his enlarged form to all of American daytime TV.

Matthew handed Derek a microphone, and the muscled up guest struggled to bend his massive arm enough to bring it up to his mouth, the movement causing his bicep to flex with power.

“Welcome to the show, Derek,” Matthew said. “Now, let me try to understand this: You weren’t this muscular two months ago, were you?”

Derek’s blush deepened and he shook his head. “No,” he grunted in a deep voice that was full of baritone.

On the screen behind the two men appeared a picture of Derek before he was cursed, showing off a toned man that was about a third the size of the swollen bodybuilder onstage.

“You where what, one-hundred eighty pounds in this picture?” Matthew pressed, gesturing towards the image on the screen. “And now you weigh how much?”

Derek took a hesitant look over at the audience, thankful that the positioning of the stage lights prevented him from making out any faces. He was beyond humiliated standing up on stage in his overgrown bulk, but after running out of ideas and failed spells from Deaton, it was his last hope at returning to his usual size.

“Um,” Derek mumbled nervously, “I weigh three-hundred seventy-nine pounds now…”

A loud gasp ran through the audience.

“And tell us, how did you get so big?” Matthew asked, placing a sympathetic hand on Derek’s broad shoulder. The size difference between the two made Matthew’s hand look utterly tiny.

Derek sighed loudly, the movement causing his massive shoulders to rise and fall, his shirt seams groaning at the movement. “I was at the gym and got into an argument with some guy,” Derek growled, anger written all over his face as he remembered what had happened. “Words were said, and I called him a ‘Roided-Up Freak’. Then he snapped his fingers, and well…” Derek gestured downwards at himself.

Matthew nodded quietly, and then perked up. “And I understand that your boyfriend, Stiles, has stayed by your side this entire time?”

The audience let out aww’s and coos.

Derek nodded as best as he could due to his huge traps swallowing his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s… my rock.” He admitted it, his heart racing over how grateful he was for Stiles. 

Like Derek, Stiles had been freaked out too when Derek had turned into a roid-loving bodybuilder. He’d tried his best to find spells to turn him back to normal, or at least find clothes big enough to fit over his unwanted bulk. However, unlike Derek, Stiles quickly came around to his boyfriend’s new appearance. He would run admiring hands over Derek’s inflated pecs or marvel over how he couldn’t fit hit hands even halfway around Derek’s biceps… and despite being annoyed, Derek would be lying if he didn’t admit that deep down that he loved having Stiles worship his muscles.

However, despite how great life was with Stiles, Derek was still irritated over his bulky body ruining his life. He couldn’t fit in his prized Camaro anymore. His gut and pecs were too big and they constantly pressed against the horn. Plus, his back was so wide that he couldn’t even close the door thanks to how broad he was. Speaking of doors, it took all of Derek’s cleverness to squeeze himself through any standard-sized one. He always had to go through them sideways thanks to his broad shoulders, but it was always a struggle fitting his roidgut and pecs through the doorway. All of his clothes were now XXXL, and they always looked like they were painted on. Even sleeping was struggle too! Whenever he lied on his back, Derek’s huge back muscles kept his head elevated above his pillow. He couldn’t lie on his side, not with his large arms and lats. His gut and pecs were too big to try sleeping on his front. He had to position pillows and blankets carefully around his body in order to get comfortable. But his large body left zero room for Stiles, forcing the tiny human to sleep completely on top of Derek’s large muscles… but Derek secretly liked that part of the curse.

As the show went on and Derek answered the host’s questions, a loud ripping noise echoed out.

“Oh no…” Derek groaned as his shirt finally lost its battle trying to conceal his bulk. The collar split right down the middle of his pillowy pecs, traveling downward to his gut. His sleeves burst to shreds over his enormous biceps, leaving the large bodybuilder completely topless. Derek blushed, and then winced when he heard another loud tear, this time his huge glutes bursting through the back of his tight pants. Now that he was exposed, his vascular form was on full display, showing off the radiating veins all over his huge physique.

Matthew mock frowned, yet the audience erupted into a fit of laughter, making Derek blush even more.

“Well, Derek,” Matthew said, “we looked into your curse to see if we could help you at all. And guess what? We can.”

Derek perked up a little, hopeful at returning to his normal body after months of being trapped in an overblown, roided-up bodybuilder’s body. “R-really?” he asked, hopeful. 

Matthew reached into his back pocket and handed Derek a card. “Yes, Big Guy,” he smiled. “This here is a fifty dollar gift card to Mens’ Big and Tall. They have all sorts of styles designed specifically for large, bulky men such as yourself.”

Derek frowned as he snatched the gift card away from the host.

Matthew turned back to the crowd. “And coming up after our break, a man whose voice sounds like a chipmunk’s! That and more on The Matthew Johnson Show!”

Derek waddled off the stage, grumbling angrily to himself the whole time. He’d just embarrassed himself on TV for a stupid gift card. “I hope his shit show gets cancelled,” he muttered to himself as he walked backstage towards a waiting Stiles.

Stiles looked up at his inflated boyfriend sympathetically. “Sorry Derek,” he frowned. “I thought that it’d help. I mean, it looked like he helped people whenever I’d watch him on TV.”

Derek huffed and had to take a step backward so that his protruding pecs weren’t blocking his view of Stiles. “Yeah, who would’ve guessed that people lie on TV?” he rolled his eyes.

Stiles’s frown lightened up the smallest bit. “Well, I mean, if you are stuck as a big bodybuilder…” he led, looking at Derek with a hopeful expression.

Derek sighed, but forced a grin on his face as he lifted his muscled arms as best as he could, forming a double biceps pose. “Wanna feel, Little Man?” he asked the usual line that had become a staple in their bedroom activities.

Stiles’s smile grew. “Yes, please.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile back, reaching over and tossing Stiles over his broad shoulder with ease. “I could get used to this, I suppose,” he shrugged to himself as he waddled off, loving how small his boyfriend felt against his bulk.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 11: Pup

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

Derek wasn’t in control. He couldn’t help it.

The alpha werewolf had no clue what was happening, but the second he heard his husband, Stiles, walk in the front door after getting off from work, he felt a surge of excitement and utter jubilation. Of course Derek loved this husband and was always happy to see him, but this was to a new extreme— almost inhuman.

“I’m home!” Stiles called out.

At the sound of his husband’s voice, Derek’s heart raced and he dropped the TV remote and felt his body crash down to the floor on all fours. Before Derek could wonder what he was doing, he felt his limbs scamper out of the living room and towards the entryway. Inwardly, he panicked, unable to stop crawling on all fours or even stand up. Whenever he’d try to, he’d fall back down onto hands and knees, forced down like a dog.

The second his panicked eyes landed on Stiles, though, Derek’s trepidation vanished.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek cheerfully barked and he sprinted towards his husband. He rushed forward and managed to stand up on his feet— well, more like he leaned his top half against the smaller man, again, akin to how a dog jumps on their master. Unable to contain his joy at seeing the other man, Derek leaned forward and licked his husband’s face all over like a puppy.

“Derek, what are you…” Stiles trailed off, looking confused as the werewolf licked him. His eyebrows scrunched together, and his brain tried to tell him that something was wrong, that Derek was acting different. But as the excited mandog continued to give him kisses, he brushed the feeling away and couldn’t help but laugh.

At this sound, Derek couldn’t help but bellow out another, “Woof!” He blushed when he felt his bubblebutt jiggle a little as he wiggled his hips to and fro, almost as if he’d had a tail. Worse was that no matter how hard he tried to, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Okay, Derek, down,” Stiles laughed as he gently pushed against the eager man.

Derek put all fours back down again at the command, his blush deepening. He had no idea what was happening, but a part of him hoped that Stiles could figure out a way to help him. He opened his mouth to ask for help.

“Hrrmm, woof!” Derek barked, his eyes widening. “Woof! Woof!” His deep voice sounded the same, but no matter how hard he tried, Derek couldn’t put together a sentence. His words were reduced to barks and yips, making him let out a loud whimper.

Stiles hung up his coat and turned back to the crawling Derek. “Aww,” he frowned exaggeratedly, “what is it, Der? You want some pets?”

Inwardly, Derek bristled at the way his husband was talking to him, as if he were his pet. However, his body perked up and he wiggled his hips even more. “Woof!” he excitedly barked, so into it that his hands lifted off the ground with the movement.

Letting out a chuckle, Stiles leaned down and scratched behind Derek’s ear.

The feeling was incredible and Derek leaned further into it, barely noticing the way his leg shook. The sensation of Stiles’s hands on him was intoxicating, and his canine mind craved more.

Derek flopped over onto the floor and rolled over onto his back, his arms hanging out awkwardly in front of himself as he presented his hairy chest to Stiles. Derek looked up at the other man expectantly, despite inwardly screaming at himself to stop.

“Aww, good boy!” Stiles cooed as he gave Derek a belly rub.

Instantly, Derek felt his cock rocket to life, slipping out of his boxers and bobbing out in the air. He couldn’t believe that he was acting like a dog, getting a belly rub from his husband. But he couldn’t deny that he loved it. Something about the way Stiles’s hands ran over his body was purely orgasmic, and the werewolf craved more. Every hairy crevice of his muscled chest was felt up by Stiles, and when his fingers ran over his hard nipples, Derek was pushed over the edge.

“Arroooo!” he howled as he came, his cum shooting up into the air and landing all over his pecs. He panted as he tried to catch his breath, feeling as if he’d just blown the largest load of his life.

Stiles stood up. “Let me change and then we’ll go for walkies,” he said as he walked up the stairs.

Alone, Derek’s mind finally cleared enough for him to start to freak out over what was happening to him. Gritting his teeth, he tried with all of his strength to stand up or speak, but it was futile. Finally giving up on that, he crawled around the downstairs, shocked to see that the house had changed. There was now a dog bowl in the kitchen with DEREK printed on it in large, blocky letters. Unable to help himself, Derek crawled over to the water bowl next to it and lapped up some water noisily, splashing liquid all over the hardwood floor in the process. He leaned up, his face cherry red at his actions, but his thirst satisfied at least. 

Scampering into the living room, Derek winced at the large dog bed in the corner along with the rubber toy in the shape of a bone.

The mere second Derek’s eyes landed on the toy, his heart began to race and he couldn’t help but rush over and happily take the toy in his mouth. Whenever he tightened his jaw on it, it let out a loud squeak, further exciting the werewolf even more. He happily thrashed his head around, loving the squeaking from his chew toy.

“Ready?” Stiles asked, interrupting his play time as he walked down the stairs in more comfortable clothes.

Derek cocked his head to the side and dropped the toy from his mouth, humiliated beyond belief. He was used to be a boasting and powerful alpha, not some damn puppy! Still, as Stiles grabbed the leash off the rack, Derek scampered forward eagerly.

“Sit,” Stiles said as he held out the black, studded collar. There was a small sliver tag on it that read out: Derek, along with Stiles’s phone number.

Derek immediately sat like a dog and straightened his torso as best as he could. He puffed out his chest muscles with pride, loving the way Stiles looked over him. He was such a good guard dog— no, wait, he didn’t mean that.

Stiles put the collar on Derek and attached the leash, barely having time to open up the door before Derek excitedly bolted out. 

The smell of the fresh air and the sounds of the birds chirping was so much, and Derek couldn’t help but whip his head around to take in all the senses. He loved the bright colors of the cars that zoomed by, and he couldn’t help but preen at how Stiles walked in line with him. Derek’s tongue happily lolled out of his mouth as he walked.

The two of them came to an intersection, and without thinking, Derek sat down and looked upwards at Stiles.

Stiles looked left and right before nodding down at Derek, the werewolf standing back up on all fours and continuing their walk.

“Good boy, Derek!” Stiles cooed. “That’s a such a good boy for waiting to cross the street!”

“Woof! Woof!” Derek happily barked, loving how Stiles praised him. He was such a good boy, especially for Stiles.

“Hey there, Stiles!” a voice enthusiastically echoed out.

Stiles looked away from Derek and then smiled lazily at Theo, who walked towards the two men. “Oh, hi Theo,” Stiles said, in a less cheery voice. This one almost sounded distrustful. 

At the sound of Stiles’s change of tone and the approaching of the other man, Derek couldn’t swallow down the fierce protectiveness that bubbled up in his chest. He stomped forward and puffed out his chest as best as he could, steeling his arms to make his muscles look even bigger.

“Grrr!” Derek growled at the other man, making him stop in his place.

Stiles tightened his grip on the leash and kept Derek back, offering Theo a meek smile. “Sorry, Theo,” he huffed, “Derek’s not great with other people yet. I’m still getting him trained.”

Derek stopped growling, but kept his large werewolf fangs bared threateningly at the other man.

Theo held his hands up and shook his head with a chuckle. “Well, I know you’ll get him trained well soon,” he sighed. “You always said that you wanted a dog…” With that he turned around and walked off, but Derek could’ve sworn that he’d heard him mutter “…I must’ve messed up the spell…”

Stiles and Derek finished their walk, the whole time Derek loving the quality time with his husband. Derek had loved smelling all of the flowers in their neighbors’ yards, he'd enjoyed the way Mrs. Hall ad given him a pat on the head (it’d been nothing like Stiles’s head pats though), and he’d chased a squirrel much to Stiles’s annoyance.

When they returned home, Stiles fed Derek some food, which Derek happily gobbled up. He followed Stiles around the house as he did little chores here and there until it was nighttime. 

“Time for bed, Der,” Stiles yawned, stretching his arms over his head and he sauntered towards the bedroom. He hopped in the bed and lied down.

Derek followed him into the room and spun around a few times before lying down on the dog bed that was at the foot of his bed. There was a rawhide there from earlier, and Derek chomped down, gnawing it with his large teeth. He was so happy. He had the best master in the whole world, he got a belly rub earlier, and he got to have walkies.

It couldn’t get any better than this—

“It’s kinda cold,” Stiles shivered. “You want up, Der?” He patted the mattress.

“Woof! Woof!” Derek excitedly barked as he jumped up onto the bed and scurried over to his Stiles, licking his face lovingly. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Stiles laughed as he scratched behind Derek’s ear.

“Woof!” Derek happily barked, his wide and toothy smile dominating his face.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 19: Action Figure

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19

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.