Voicechange - Tumblr Posts

I tried my best to photoshop Chris Evans… but I think he still looks hot haha!

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Actor Chris Evans cleared his throat as he stood in the recording booth, ready to deliver his lines for the iconic character Buzz Lightyear. He’d landed the role of the titular character in the new upcoming movie, and was excited to be part of such a lavish project.

“To infinity, and beyond!” Chris announced, puffing out his chest to deepen his voice. He peeked over at the director who was on the other side of the glass, a glazed look on his face.

“Um, Chris,” he said as he leaned over and pushed a button to allow his voice to echo out over the intercom in the tiny recoding booth where the actor was, “that was nice… but why don’t we try to add a little more baritone to your voice?”

The actor nodded, thinking that it was an odd critique. He was well known for his roles in superhero films, so having a deep masculine voice was never really an issue for him. He shrugged and chalked it up to production wanting him to match the natural deepness of Tim Allen’s.

He cleared his throat again. “To infinity, and beyond!” He made sure to lower his voice as best as he could, feeling the vibration deep in his muscled chest.

For a second time, Chris looked over at the director who had a frown set deep on his face. “Not quite deep enough,” he muttered, reaching over and pressing a few buttons on the control panel before him.

Chris felt a rush of wind from the A/C unit, a tingle spreading over his skin and making his face feel a little prickly. The sensation was gone as soon as it had come, making him doubt that anything had happened in the first place.

“Try it one more time,” the direction grinned.

Chris Evans nodded and steeled himself to bellow out the iconic line. He sucked in a deep breath of air and puffed out his mighty chest, his pecs straining his shirt to the limit. “TO INFINITY, AND BEYOND!” the hunky actor bellowed, a sexy bass-like quality consuming his voice. It was deep in the sense that it oozed masculinity and sent a rumble throughout Chris’s muscles as he spoke.

The director’s grin widened and he clapped his hands. “Perfect!” he cheered.

Chris Evan’s own smile stretched out his face and he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, his voice still a deep bellow, sounding several octaves deeper than his usual speaking voice. The actor flinched and cleared his throat a couple times before trying again. “Thank you…”

His voice got caught in his throat as he heard the deep bellow from earlier seemingly stuck in it.

Chris took his headphones off and rubbed at his throat in wonder.

“What the hell?” he asked aloud in his bass-filled new voice, but winced when his hand brushed up against his chin which felt like it was much lower than it should’ve been.

Gasping, the hunky actor looked at his blurry reflection in the windows of the recording booth, his stomach dropping at what he saw. As impossible as it was, Chris Evans’s chin had seemingly tripled in size, looking incredibly wide and broad and stretching his face and adding exaggerated length to it. With shaky hands, Chris ran his hands over his new chin, feeling his familiar stubble and the physical sensation receptors on his skin picking up on it perfectly.

“Wh-what happened to me?” he uttered in his deep, bellow voice.

The director just continued to grin before he leaned over and spoke into the intercom again. “We spent a lot of money getting you onto this project,” he explained to the altered man. “I just need to make sure the production company’s investment is protected.”

“You can’t do this!” Chris shouted, trying not to look at his warped reflection, feeling as if he were staring into a funhouse mirror whenever he caught sight of his massive jaw. He tried to leave the recording room to find a doctor or someone who could help him and return him to his normal form. He had no idea how he could get any new roles now by looking like a caricature of some action figure with such a huge chin. And he sounded ridiculous with his bass-filled voice that put James Earl Jones to shame. However, the door was locked, effectively trapping the actor in the recording booth.

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” the director scoffed. “Now we have to record the next two movies in the series because Disney milks everything to death.”

Chris Evans paled, running his hand over his rounded and bulging chin in disbelief as he stared at his shocked, altered face.

“Aww, don’t be so nervous Chris,” the director teased. “Think of it: You will be the best voice actor from now on with that hot, sexy baritone you possess.”

Chris Evans sighed, feeling defeated and having no idea what else to do. “Fine,” he muttered, and even though he tried to speak softly his voice still bellowed out deeply and manly, like he was imitating some cartoon superhero, which was how he would sound forever and for the rest of his roles.

“What. A. Day!” Stiles sighed as he slumped into the loft where his boyfriend lived/lurked. He shrugged his backpack to the ground and walked over to the couch where Derek sat.

“Bad day?” the werewolf asked in his usual gruff monotone, but still put a buff arm around the human’s slender shoulders.

Stiles threw his hands up into the air. “I swear my Folklore professor has it out for me!” he whined, noting the amused look in his boyfriend’s eyes.  “I’m serious!”

Derek just nodded, already knowing that his hyperactive boyfriend was going to regale him with some lavish, over-exaggerated tale. “Sure…”

The smaller man shook it away. “No, really, Derek,” he explained, “Professor Collins seems to have it out for me, ever since I turned him down when he asked me out!”

That spiked Derek’s attention and the werewolf perked up, feeling his territorial instincts over his boyfriend starting to grow, his arm around his shoulders tightening the slightest bit. He even fought to suppress the jealous growl that was bubbling in his muscled chest.

Stiles carried on, blissfully unaware of his boyfriend’s change of mood. “He gave me a zero on my quiz last week, had me do my presentation alone while everyone else got a partner, and today after class he made me stay late!”

Derek felt his lips curl over his teeth. “He did?” he asked through gritted teeth.

The spastic human nodded. “And get this, he had the balls to ask me out again, for like the thousandth time, and of course I said ‘No’; but this time, I made sure to mention that I have a boyfriend, hoping that he’d get the hint.” He trailed off for a little bit. “And it seemed to work for a little bit, and he even offered me an espresso and told me to say ‘Hi’ to you for him… so, uh, ‘Hi’.” He cheekily smiled at the end of his story.

Despite how it seemed like the pervy professor had given up, Derek was still pissed to no end at the thought of another man trying to creep on his boyfriend. The possessive wolf instinct in him caused him to lean forward and pepper kisses along Stiles’s jawline.

Stiles moaned slightly and crooked his head to the side, giving Derek access to his neck. The scraping of the werewolf’s stubble against his own smooth skin sent little jolts of electricity straight to his cock.

With a smirk on his handsome face, Derek leaned forward and pinned Stiles down onto his back, immediately attacking his lips with his stubble-framed ones. Stiles gladly allowed him access when he lapped at his bottom lip, deepening the kiss with an animalistic growl. Derek ran his hands along Stiles’s smooth skin, his claws teasingly scraping against it, making him arch his back. As their tongues danced and they heatedly made out, Stiles began to notice that something was off.

The taste of the coffee that the mysterious Professor Collins had offered him still lingered in his mouth, but it seemed to grow in intensity for a brief moment. Then he felt what seemed like Derek biting his tongue a bit, making him yelp and jerk back.

“What the hell…” Stiles trailed off, his words getting lost in his throat when he looked up at his boyfriend.

Derek glanced down at him, a confused look on his face. He didn’t seemed to be aware of the fact that his head had shrunk down to the size of an orange. It still the same proportions, however, it made his already broad shoulders look absolutely massive. It was an odd sight seeing such a muscled up man with an incredibly tiny head, making Stiles stare back in confused awe, the taste of coffee still on his tongue.

Derek cocked his small eyebrow in wonder, staring down at his boyfriend in confusion. “What’s wrong?” the werewolf asked, his voice sounding like he’d been huffing on helium, resembling more of a chipmunk than a tough alpha werewolf. He winced and cleared his throat before trying again. “What’s the matter… *ahem, what is it— what’s wrong with my voice?”

Derek shot off the couch, nearly stumbling to the floor due to his perception being all thrown off. The first thing he noticed was how massive his pecs looked, appearing as if they’d ballooned out in front of him, and when he turned to look at his shoulders, they seemed to stretch on for meters. His tiny head paled and he brought his hands in front of his face, gasping as he looked at the massive mattress-sized hands he seemed to possess.

“What the fuck?!” he squeaked in his high pitched voice. “Did I grow?!”

Stiles slowly stood to his feet, taking in the odd sight of the werewolf with the shrunken head. “Uh, no?” he meekly answered, pulling out his phone and taking a quick picture before showing it to his boyfriend.

Derek nearly passed out when he saw the photo of himself with a tiny head. “How the fuck did this happen?!” he squeaked, trying to sound pissed off, but his tiny voice made him sound ridiculous.

Stiles fought hard not to laugh, and covered his smiling mouth with his hand.

“This isn’t funny!” Derek growled, which sounded even funnier in its higher pitch. He resulted to stomping his heavy foot down onto the floor in order to sound intimidating. He had no idea how this had even happened or how to fix it… if he even could. That last thought made his heart race and he started to fear the thought of walking through public with people turning to look in wonder at the freakshow with the tiny head. He looked like a caricature with such exaggerated muscles and a head barely the size of a baseball, coupled with a comical squeaky voice that was in no way threatening. 

As he panicked, Stiles got a call from an unknown number and and answered.

“Hey Stiles, it’s Professor Collins,” the professor said on the other line. “I’m guessing you figured out my little potion by now. Suffice to say, you can either go out with a hot professor with a high paying job and a gym-built physique… or you can date a werewolf who looks like he cosplays Beetlejuice. Your choice.”

“What?” Stiles gasped. “You sick fuck!”

The professor laughed. “Fine, I suppose I have your answer. And by the way, yes, it is permanent. Have fun!” He hung up.

Derek couldn’t believe what he’d heard, panicking at the idea of spending the rest of his days looking and sounding like an absolute freak. How could he maintain his status as an alpha if he sounded like a chipmunk? And how could he intimidate enemy packs if he struts around with a wildly disproportionate body? He looked over at the mirror hanging on the wall, huffing at his warped reflection and tiny, angry face staring back. The movement made his massive shoulders rise, nearly covering his puny head with their bulk.

“Well, um,” Stiles tried to comfort him, “at least I didn’t give you a blowjob?”

Derek just scowled back, trying to see the bright side. He may have a shrunken head, but at least he still had Stiles.

Derek Hale huffed as he followed the spastic Stiles through the Beacon Hills Mall, irritated to be surrounded by such a huge crowd of people. However, Stiles had asked him to accompany him there because he was positive that there was a hint that would help them solve the town’s latest supernatural crisis (and supposedly there was a crazy clearance sale at the retro video game store as well).

Although when he’d been asked Derek had given his trademark scowl of annoyance, he’d instantly agreed because he was helplessly in love with the nerdy human who obliviously chattered away about some obscure cheat in an old game he’d never heard of. Still, despite the gruff, annoyed expression he wore, Derek was all ears, his heart fluttering in his chest as the boy he was secretly in love with talked.

“…but you have to be careful when performing that because you can potentially softlock your game,” Stiles went on, speaking so rapidly and quickly that Derek sometimes worried the guy would pass out from a lack of oxygen.

“Mm-hmm,” Derek grunted, clenching his jaw in irritation over the fact that he was mentally unable to confess his true feelings to Stiles. Things with his ex had been so horrendous and the usual brooding-infused self-hatred made Derek feel like the human was way out of his league, even despite his status as an alpha werewolf. Therefore, he fought hard to keep Stiles at a distance, despite currently trailing him through the mall like an eager puppy… and “accidentally” letting his leather jacket-covered bulk brush up against the smaller man every so often.

The human frowned a little but shrugged his thin shoulders before perking up. “I think this is where the trickster works,” he whispered to the werewolf, pointing to a store.

“Boot Barn?” Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed his buff arms over his muscled chest. “I have to admit that it was odd that we were seeking out a trickster at the mall, but at a cowboy store?”

Stiles shrugged in response. “Everybody has to pay bills,” he retorted before making his way towards the store that reeked of leather.

The alpha werewolf followed closely behind, sniffing at the air to see if he could catch the scent of a trickster. He swallowed down the growl that formed in his throat when he caught whiff of the sickly sweet stench that was characteristic of the magical creatures, and he took a protective step closer to the human.

“Stay close to me,” Derek whispered in Stiles’s ear. “It’s here somewhere.” Out of instinct, he wrapped a secure arm around the other man and pulled him into his leather jacket, his inner wolf preening at the proximity.

Stiles’s eyes widened and he quickly snatched the closest object off the shelf closest to them. “Um, here, act like we’re buying this,” he hurriedly said as he tossed a white cowboy hat at Derek.

The alpha werewolf scowled at the blank, white cowboy hat with the $85.95 price tag hanging from it. Still, with a deep huff, he put the cowboy hat on his head and looked down at the young man in his hold. “How’s it look?” he grunted.

Stiles fought back a giggle, making Derek’s heart speed up. “I like it.”

The sweet scent of the trickster grew stronger and Derek straightened his posture and squared his broad shoulders, glaring at the guy the scent seemed to be emanating from. “Go wait for me at the food court,” he growled to Stiles, shoving him behind him so as to leave zero room for argument.

Stiles looked conflicted as he bit down on his lower lip, but he scurried off to the food court to wait for the alpha werewolf.

Derek stalked over to the trickster who was unloading product onto a random shelf. In order to up the ante, he puffed out his chest, making his pecs look bigger as they strained against his t-shirt. He even bared his teeth the slightest bit to show off his werewolf canines.

The trickster looked up from the box he was digging through, putting on a standard customer service smile. “Hello, how may I help you— oh shit,” he groaned when he saw that he was speaking to an alpha werewolf. “Look, Dude, I haven’t down anything wrong. I get that this is your territory and all, but I haven’t even practiced any magic since I located here.”

“So you just have a passion for woking at cowboy stores?” Derek countered, crossing his powerful arms over his chest. “I don’t buy that bullshit. You have exactly one minute to get out of my sight and leave my territory.” To emphasis his threat, his flashed his canines as he checked his watch.

The trickster tossed his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Fine,” he sighed. “Your territory’s shit anyways.” He ripped his name tag off his polo and tossed it to the ground before stomping off. He glanced over his shoulder as he was about to exit to store and smirked. “And ‘cowboy store’?” He snapped his fingers and disappeared into the crowd of mall shoppers.

There was an odd electric quality to the air, but it passed just as quickly as it had come, making Derek doubt that he’d even felt it in the first place.

He shook his head, but paused when he caught sight of his reflection in one of the many store mirrors. He thought he looked ridiculous wearing the cowboy hat when it was paired with his favorite leather jacket. He reached up to take the hat off, but found that it was stuck.

“What the hell?” Derek grunted as he grabbed at the cowboy hat with both of his hands and tugged at it, clenching his teeth as he yanked with all of his strength, but the hat stayed in place. He pulled until he was red in the face and panting from exerting so much energy, scowling at his reflection that still had him wearing such a tacky cowboy hat.

However, Derek’s attention was quickly torn away from the cowboy hat stuck on his head when he looked down at the huge belt buckle that was in the front of his jeans. It was about as large as his hand and it had such intricate designs on it that depicted cowboys and longhorns. Derek hadn’t even been wearing a belt earlier, let alone one with such a garish buckle that only served to draw peoples’ attention straight to his groin.

The werewolf gasped loudly when he saw that even his generic shoes had somehow magically been replaced with cowboy boots, his pants even shifting to accommodate them by becoming bootcut style.

“Now what the heck am I wearin’?” Derek asked aloud, his eyes going wide at the way he heard himself speak. His normally rough and pointed tone had morphed into a deeper bass-filled voice with such a heavy southern twang that it was almost comical. “Now what had gone and ‘appened to mah voice?”

Derek hurried out of the store in a panic, clearing his throat over and over and rubbing at it frantically. This couldn’t be happening. He knew that the trickster was behind this and somehow the cowboy hat that was stuck on his head was acting as a catalyst for this transformation.

He continued to shove his way through the crowd of people, none of them paying attention to the panicking alpha werewolf.

Derek took a deep breath and tried to mentally psyche himself up to speak in his normal voice. My name is Derek Hale and I live in Beacon Hills, he mentally chanted. Just say it.

“Mah name’s Derek Hale. I was born ’n’ raised here in Beacon Hills,” he said in his thick country accent that he couldn’t shake. “Darn it!” He stomped his cowboy boot down in irritation before he was alerted to something else.

He looked down at his gray t-shirt, frowning when he was realized that he was no longer wearing his trademark leather jacket. He rolled his eyes but quickly froze as he examined his forearms, his stomach dropping as he saw the dark hair that was thickening over them. In a panic, Derek looked over the rest of his body, the blood draining from his face when he saw the wisps of new chest hair curling over the collar of his tight t-shirt.

“Now what in the Sam Hill is happenin’ to me?” he wondered aloud, wincing at his altered vernacular.

The changing Derek pushed through the crowd of people and made his way to the food court, his eyes immediately honing in on Stiles who was happily munching down on fries. For a brief second, he was embarrassed to have Stiles see him like this, but he knew that the human was incredibly intelligent and may have an idea to help him.

“Whoa doggy, ain’t ya a sight for sore eyes,” Derek cried as soon as he reached him.

Stiles looked up in confusion, cocking his eyebrow at the werewolf who sounded like some caricature from CMT and who dressed like someone’s exaggerated, stereotypical idea of what a Texan might dress like. “Derek?” he asked, looking the alpha up and down before smiling slightly. “So, you decided to buy the hat.”

Despite basking in the fact that Stiles was smiling at him, Derek grabbed a hold of his hand and yanked him out of his chair, quickly ushering him out of the mall and towards the parking garage.

“Uh, Derek?” Stiles muttered as he was practically dragged behind him.

“What is it, mah darlin’?” Derek answered, flinching when he heard how he’d just referred to Stiles. 

Luckily the human seemed to ignore it for the moment. “Um,” he stalled, sounding conflicted. “Either your shirt is shrinking or you’re growing.”

The werewolf yelped and stopped in his tracks, immediately starting to feel just how snug his already tight t-shirt had become. Looking down, his jaw dropped at he witnessed his pecs puff up and pack on meat as they pushed further away from his torso. His nipples hardened and perked up, poking tantalizingly against the tight fabric of his shirt that was strained to bursting. His already-broad shoulders pushed further outwards as his back widened, pushing him to near bodybuilder proportions. Derek watched with awe as his now hairy arms thickened, his biceps inflating to the size of bowling balls, displaying the upmost masculine power. Even his thighs widened and he felt his cock and balls start to feel extremely confined in his bootcut jeans.

RIIIPPPP!

Derek’s gray t-shirt finally gave up, bursting into tatters and leaving the bulky, hairy werewolf standing shirtless in the parking garage of the mall, wearing his cowboy hat, jeans with a huge belt buckle, and his cowboy boots. His inflated, hairier form oozed manliness and seemed to be a mixture of being obtained through his alpha genes and years of hard, physical labor.

“Damn, Derek,” Stiles gasped in wonder, “you look like a—”

“Like some redneck cowboy werewolf,” Derek finished for him in his country accent, a frown settling in on his face as he examined his new form in the reflection of a tinted window on some nearby car. His broad, beefy shoulders dropped as he walked towards where he parked his Camaro, gritting his teeth in annoyance at the new way his thighs rolled over each other and the awkward way his biceps and lats kept pushing against each other, making his arms hang at a weird angle by his sides. His fuzzy pecs felt so cumbersome and heavy, and he found himself arching his back to help support their weight, which only seemed to accentuate the massive muscle mounds.

However, a large piece of him was hyperaware of the fact that he still had a strong hold of Stiles’s hand. Not only that, but the human had even gone to far as to intertwine his fingers with his, making the alpha blush. Derek was so focused on how he was walking hand in hand with Stiles that when he reached his vehicle, he was hit with such shock.

“What in tarnation?!” Derek roared in irritation as the space where he’d parked his Camaro was now occupied by an old, red pickup truck.

Stiles kept his mouth shut (for once), knowing that Derek had loved his Camaro. He gave the cowboy werewolf’s beefy, hairy hand a reassuring squeeze, not unaware of the way Derek unconsciously ran his thumb up and down his.

The alpha sighed in resignation, unsure of how to fix this. “C’mon, Darlin’,” he grunted as he led Stiles to his new truck, taking a while to realize that he’d just called Stiles “Darlin’” for a second time.

The two of them settled into the pickup truck. Derek fought back a growl when he realized just how much muscle he’d packed on once he was in the tiny cab of the old truck. His broad shoulders made it so that his left was pressed against the driver side door and his right had Stiles pressed tightly against him. His massive biceps made it hard to bend his arms to grip the steering wheel, and his pecs were so large that he had to readjust his grip around them constantly; and his seatbelt completely disappeared into their deep hairy crevice. Worse was that his larger, erect nipples kept getting stimulated by his massive biceps jostling against them as he turned the wheel, making him stifle a moan and feel the front of his pants grow tighter and tighter.

As he drove back to his loft, Derek glanced in the rearview mirror, a frown deep on his face. “I really got no idea how I’ma fix this,” he sighed.

Stiles offered him another smile. “I don’t think you look that bad,” he offered, placing a reassuring hand on the alpha’s inflated bicep.

The newly transfigured Derek was unsure if it was by his own will or a result of his transformation, but he felt himself wrap a buffed up arm around Stiles’s thin shoulders and pull him into his beefy, hairy body. “C’mere, Darlin’,” he cooed, finding it oddly hot how he completely dwarfed the smaller man.

Stiles snickered as he leaned into the alpha cowboy werewolf, running an admiring hand over Derek’s larger pecs, sending a shudder though the other man. “It’s about time you make a move,” he teased. “I just didn’t think it took you turning into some cowboy to finally get the balls.”

Derek jerked back and looked down at Stiles in wonder, his heart racing in his massive chest. “Whaddya just say?” he asked, starting to finally feel hopeful since his transformation started.

Stiles blushed and squirmed a little in his hold. “I’ve had a thing for you for a bit,” he admitted, looking away momentarily before glancing back up at the alpha.

Derek stopped at a red light and took advantage of the situation to yank Stiles closer and deeply kiss him, moaning loudly as he did so. His inner wolf howled with pride over having finally kissed his mate. He pulled back for a moment, feeling his smile taking over every expanse of his face. “I’ve been in love with ya, Darlin’ ever since ya trespassed on mah land,” he gushed, leaning back down to pepper kissed all over the human in his grasp.

Stiles leaned into it and quickly reached up and took the cowboy hat off Derek’s head, setting it onto the dash. “The brim keeps getting in the way,” he muttered before resuming their make out session.

It took Derek a moment to realize that the cowboy hat was finally off his head. He still held Stiles in his hold and let the human’s hands travel all over his bulky form. They were still making out in an old pickup truck. Derek was still wearing cowboy boots and had an obscenely large belt buckle. And Derek’s body was still at least sixty pounds heavier and much more hairier. His stomach dropped at the revelation that, although the cowboy hat had began his transformation, apparently it’s work was done and permanent. A part of the alpha werewolf winced as he knew deep down that normal Derek Hale, the stud who’d spent a chunk of his life in the city and was known to wear leather jackets and drive a hot sportscar around town, was gone. In his place was the new Derek Hale: the redneck cowboy who had a thick country accent and muscles so large that they barely fit in his pickup truck. 

And this new Derek Hale had Stiles.

Immediately all of his indignation disappeared and Derek puffed out his chest with pride, tightening his grip on his boy and planting another kiss on his lips as the light turned green. If it meant that he had Stiles in his life and that they were finally together, Derek could make it work as some muscled-up cowboy.

“Darlin’, I’ma take ya back to mah loft and I’ma knot that tight hole of yours,” Derek playfully growled at the blushing man. 

He started to drive forward again, but couldn’t ignore a brand new sensation that washed over him and told him that he was missing something. He snorted and shook his head, knowing just what it was.

Derek reached over and snatched his cowboy hat off the dash and put it back onto his head, that anxiety disappearing as soon as it was back in place. “Gotta have my hat,” he winked down at Stiles, rock hard as he envisioned all the things he was going to do to his mate… and he knew he’d be wearing his cowboy hat the entire time.

As Coach Benson stood in the locker room, he forced himself to ignore the snickering of the football players. The muscled athletes around him did their best to avoid eye contact, some covering their grins with their hands while others red in the face from trying not to burst into hysterics.

The football coach grimaced and cleared his throat a couple times before trying to deepen his voice to resemble anything like the booming, manly tones he used to possess. "Alright boys," he squeaked, the chipmunk-like voice making him sound like he'd been sucking on helium, "we're going to face off against--"

Despite their best efforts, the football players lost their composure and each one of them (including the water boy) started to laugh at the cartoonish sound of the older man's voice.

"Fuck this..." Coach Benson huffed as he stormed off back to his office.

He used to be an imposing figure who oozed masculinity and who could easily get what he wanted just by puffing out his beefy, hairy chest or by using his baritone to bark orders at people he viewed smaller than him. However, he'd tried to push around one of the science nerds who didn't feel like tutoring his QB, and then he became one of those freak's science experiments.

Coach looked in the mirror that was in his office, a frown set deep on his face as he stared back at his reflection. He still had all of his hard-earned muscles that bulged with power and stretched the confines of his polo to the limit. However, now that was capped off with a head the size of a ripe apple, complete with a squeaky voice.

Now instead of obeying his every order, the former alpha man felt like he was butt of every joke. All of the football players now mocked him for his tiny head and silly voice instead of treating him with the upmost respect. And none of the other nerdy teachers or coaches would listen to him try to bark out demands. Shoot, even his girlfriend left him for a guy with smaller muscles... but a normal-sized head.

"Fuckin' nerds," Coach irritatedly huffed to himself in his squeaky voice, already planning on begging the nerd to change him back after the game.

Peter: *Squeaks "So, Almighty Alpha, what did we learn today?"

Derek: *Sighs and then squeaks "Don't growl at a voodoo priestess."

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 13: Clown

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

Derek practically whimpered like a wolf pup as he watched his husband, Stiles, slowly slump to the couch. The usually vibrant and cheerful human had been going through some hardships at work, and it’d really affected his mood; thus, the normally smiley and singsongy Stiles was all gray and sulky. The alpha werewolf frowned as he saw Stiles’s thin shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

On a normal day, Derek was the grumpy one, mad at the world and scowling at every living creature that dared to cross his path; and Stiles would be his anchor, calming him down with a simple kiss on the cheek or by placing a warm hand on his broad shoulder. Now that the roles were evidently reversed, Derek was struggling to find out the right things to do/say, empathy never really being one of his strong suits.

“Babe?” Derek asked as he walked over to the couch and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as he would’ve done had the roles been swapped. “Um… have you tried not thinking about it?”

Stiles’s frown deepened and he rubbed at his temples, making Derek feel guilty.

Derek flinched and quickly tried to make things better. “Got a headache?” he asked, already dashing to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some Ibuprofen!”

As Derek leaned over the sink, images of his sad husband kept replaying in his mind, making him grimace. He felt guilty for not being able to cheer up Stiles like he would do for him whenever he was moody. He couldn’t help but feel a little helpless and, what was worse, was that whenever he felt like this, it was usually Stiles who convinced him of otherwise with a little corny joke.

Derek loved his husband with all of his heart, and it pained him to see Stiles sad. He missed his smile, he missed his laugh.

“Damn it,” Derek cursed under his breath, “I wish I could cheer him up.”

The second the words left his mouth, Derek felt a shudder ripple through him. The sensation morphed into an odd tingling that consumed his whole body before fading, but not before being reduced to a tickle that actually made Derek laugh.

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his normal throaty chuckle sounding more like a cartoonish wail that was comically deep. The werewolf jerked back and cleared his throat, wondering why he’d just laughed like that.

He shook it away and opened up the mirror cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen for Stiles, gasping when he saw his reflection after closing it.

His normally jet-black hair was green! Derek dropped the small pills in shock as he ran a shaky hand through his green hair, his eyes wide at the vibrant color that would without a doubt, draw a lot of attention his way. 

“What’s, *giggle, wrong with my hair— Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek laughed again. This time, he finally realized that he’d been smiling the entire time. Although he was confused and slightly panicked over what was happening to him, his face looked alight with zeal. His pearly whites were on full display, which brought about something new to him. Derek had always had larger front teeth, Stiles sometimes referring to them as Bunny Teeth, but his eyes widened when he saw them grow in size until they protruded over his bottom lip, effectively giving him over-exaggerated buck teeth.

Derek barely had time to react to his large teeth before he witnessed his nose shudder. Its skin reddened drastically until it looked cherry red, even taking on a shimmery sheen. It then steadily inflated, rounding out until Derek had a red clown nose affixed to his face.

“I look ridiculous!” Derek giggled, still grinning widely despite his inner panic.

The altered werewolf’s first thought was to rush to Stiles, knowing that his husband would figure out what was happening to him. Derek quickly hurried out of the bathroom, stumbling over his feet as he moved. Derek’s eyes widened even further when he witnessed his feet elongating past their usual size thirteen, growing comically huge with large stumpy toes capping them. 

With each step he took, Derek’s new feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floors and he struggled to maintain his balance. His gait resembled someone more clumsy, struggling to walk a straight line. He kept bouncing against the walls, knocking over pictures and causing a ruckus as he moved.

With a loud giggle, Derek waddled into the living room where Stiles moped. His husband took one look at him and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Der?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Instead of asking for help, Derek heard himself laugh, “Hyuck! Hyuck! I heard that there’s someone who’s a little down!” He cringed at how he was acting, this cheery clown attitude a direct contrast with his usual self.

Stiles just stared blankly ahead. “Huh?”

“Want a balloon?” Derek happily asked. “I got a real big one for you!”

With large, flailing motions, Derek searched all around his clothes. His busy show wouldn’t allow him to display his shock over the bright neon colors that his black clothes had been magically dyed to. Derek felt as if he were a passenger in his own body, hearing himself speak and feeling himself move, but he didn’t have any control. He was helpless as he behaved like some sugary sweet clown, unable to stop smiling and giggling the entire time.

When Derek couldn’t find a balloon, he frowned before perking up with an a-ha motion. Pursing his lips and whistling through his large buck teeth, he unzipped his now bright yellow pants and let them fall to the ground. 

He exaggeratedly gasped as he looked down at his soft cock, grabbing at his green hair. “Oh no!” he chirped. “You don’t want that small balloon!” 

He winced at calling himself small, but then flinched when he saw the corner of Stiles’s mouth slowly pull upward. Seeing Stiles doing so sent a fluttering feeling through Derek’s chest, and he started to feel a little excited, his panic steadily fading.

Derek felt himself stick his thumb in his mouth and take in a deep breath, puffing out his chest. He then puffed out his cheeks and acting like he was blowing air into himself, pausing every so often to take a deep breath.

Stiles let out a little chuckle.

Derek felt himself perk up, his cock instantly rocketing to attention. It swelled up and stood out in front of him. Derek dropped his thumb from his mouth and gestured towards his hard cock.

“Ta-da!” he cheered, puffing his chest back out and setting his hands onto his hips proudly as he pushed his hips forward so that his rock hard member was closer to his husband.

Finally, Stiles’s face broke out into a loud smile and he started to laugh.

At seeing his husband finally laughing and being able to see his beautiful smile again, Derek’s cock throbbed and began to leak precum. His own smile was back in full force.

“Oh, thank you, Der,” Stiles cooed as he sat up and gave his husband a big hug. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Hyuck! Hyuck!” Derek guffawed, his face blushing wildly as Stiles kissed his cheek lovingly. Seeing the love of his life smiling again, Derek figured that as long as it made his husband happy, he was fine with being a werewolf clown.

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 28: Inflation

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

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

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

— — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at the size of that bubble butt!”

“He looks huge!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Boyfriend,” Derek squeaked.

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

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

Derek gulped loudly.

[Two Weeks Later]

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

“Are you ready, Der?” Stiles asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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