#Werewolf TF

[tfpage]

‘CLICK’

Kaden snapped another photo of his shirtless body in the mirror. He didn’t dare look - he already knew how he’d feel about his lackluster appearance. He whipped his phone around a clicked ‘post’ before he could see it… but that hesitance didn’t last long - he stole a glance at the image on the post and gasped. “Come on! There’s no way I’ve gotten skinnier..” he said, shocked by what he saw. Kaden turned his phone off resignedly and sighed.

Sure, he’d come a long way since two years ago, when he started weightlifting. And granted, he wasn’t quite bad-looking. Lately, however, he was certain that he was stuck on a plateau. Kaden had tried everything, switching up his workout schedule, his split, doing more cardio, even changing his diet, but nothing had shown results for months. He’d begun attributing it to genetics, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. He looked down and poked his flaccid musculature, face full of disappointment, grumbling to himself. “If only…” he whispered, and began to grab his things off the bench to leave.

Suddenly, as he was grabbing his keys, the lights cut out, causing Kaden to stumble. His feet flew out from under him, losing traction on a small puddle hidden in the darkness. He hit the back of his head on the bench on his way down, and fell in a heap on the cold tile. “Fuuuuuck…” he groaned, clutching his head. As he began to slowly sit up, moving like a 100 year old machine, he felt a wet spot and pulled his fingers back, squinting to see a spot of fresh blood on his hands. He let out another moan of pain and laid back down. After a moment, Kaden regained his senses, no longer dizzy, and felt around for his phone. “Yes!” He whispered, finding it under the bench. Then, “DamnnnnIT!” as the screen flickered on, revealing thoroughly shattered glass, and then quickly died. “Ugh!” He exclaimed. “Why now?” As he turned around to push himself up off the floor, he spotted something shining underneath the locker.

“what the-“ he said, and lowered his eye to the ground, peering below. What he saw astonished him; a sleek white can, with strange, glowing symbols emblazoned across the side. His eyes grew wide and his hand waded through the dust and debris in order to retrieve its treasure. He ripped the can out from beneath the locker and stood up with renewed, curiosity-fueled enthusiasm. He turned the can delicately in his hands, inspecting every facet of its surface. The strange, archaic runes resembled no language Kaden had ever seen. Although to be fair, he was no linguist. The can glimmered with a radiance only polished metal can offer, dazzling in the light but in the dark locker room, it was mysterious and enticing. “No nutrition label” he noted, realizing the can must not be an official product, despite the familiar disposition of the can. All his pain and disappointment earlier vanished as he contemplated discovering what lies within the otherworldly beverage. Or was it even a beverage? Kaden had to find out. He tilted the top toward him and reached to open the tab, but noticed some small lettering, originally unnoticed in the obscurity of the power outage. “Physical.. enhancement.. Shit man this is sick” he whispered in awe. He quickly popped the lid open, and the can released a thick blue fog into the air. He admires the swirling cloud for a moment, but unable to resist any longer, he chugs the whole can, excited for the possibilities it offers.

He waited for the results - but nothing happened. He looked anxiously in the mirror, his eyes adjusting to the darkness to make out… nothing. He was exactly the same. *sigh* “Well, so much for miracles” he said, giddy grin dropping off his face.

then suddenly, he feels something bubbling up within him, pushing through his veins and out into his muscles. The throbbing sensation continues up and down his body, making him shudder. He moans as he feels his arms expand like balloons, giving him the physique he always wanted. He stares at the mirror as two thick pecs push their way out of his chest, his shoulders plump up, widening his frame. He watches his forearms tense, his abs harden and solidify, and his biceps grow to bulging, hunky limbs. Kaden’s jaw drops at the sudden, drastic transformation. His eyes glide over his image in the mirror, slowly inspection every new detail of his body. His rippling abs, his huge biceps, his boulder shoulders - every inch of Kaden’s body had developed into a well-defined sea of powerful muscle.

All of a sudden, Kaden snaps out of the shock induced by his rapid muscular growth, and realizes what has happened. “Shit, man! I look amazing!” He says, dropping the can to the floor with a clatter.

He turned to face the full-length mirror mounted on the wall, and for a long moment, he just stared.

His physique was something he barely recognized now—thicker, more defined, like a sketch brought to life in raw, living muscle. His chest, once merely broad, now jutted forward with solid mass, each pec sharply divided down the middle. His abs ran down his torso like a granite staircase, glistening under the locker room lights, the deep grooves between each muscle casting shadows that made them look even more carved.

Kaden tilted his head slightly, examining his shoulders—boulders of muscle that flowed seamlessly into thick, corded arms. His forearms were ropey and vascular, veins pulsing just beneath the surface. A layer of fine sweat clung to him, highlighting every line and curve of his form.

With slow, deliberate motion, he raised his right arm, curling it up beside his head. As his hand formed a loose fist, the bicep began to swell, tightening like a rising wave of stone. It peaked high and round, pulling the skin taut across its surface. The motion felt powerful, almost instinctive. He watched the muscle grow and shift, felt the deep stretch in his tendon, the satisfying burn as the pump settled in.

He flexed harder.

The peak surged higher. Veins throbbed along his bicep and forearm like living wires. His tricep flared out behind it in opposition, completing the perfect symmetry of raw power. A grin spread across his face—not cocky, but appreciative. He leaned a little closer to the mirror, rotating his wrist to catch a new angle.

“Look at that…” he whispered, his voice rough with awe.

He wasn’t just in shape anymore. He was something else—sculpted, sharpened, evolved. And in that quiet, echoing space, Kaden stood in front of his reflection, not just admiring himself but becoming the image he’d always envisioned. A living monument of strength.

And he hadn’t even flexed the other arm yet.

Kaden held the pose for another few seconds, relishing the feeling of power coiled beneath his skin. The mirror reflected everything—the bulge of his bicep, the curve of his delt, the tight stretch of veins threading down his forearm. But as he slowly lowered his arm, something caught his eye. Something subtle. Something off.

He leaned in closer to the mirror, narrowing his eyes. At first, he thought it was just a trick of the dark locker room—a shadow, maybe. But no. It was real.

A faint dusting of dark hair was beginning to creep across his chest, much thicker than it had been even minutes ago. The fine line of fuzz between his pecs had deepened, grown coarser, branching out across the sculpted terrain of his torso. He brushed a hand over it instinctively. It felt… new. Not like the sweat-damp hair he sometimes noticed after a long workout. This was different. Thicker. Wilder.

Then he caught sight of his face.

His jawline, which he’d shaved clean that morning, now bore a fine coating of stubble—dark, sharp, and spreading fast. He leaned closer, fingers brushing over the roughness spreading along his cheeks and down toward his neck. His skin tingled beneath the touch, warm and alive, as if something beneath the surface was pushing outward, insisting on more.

“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.

In the span of seconds, the fine shadow on his jaw had thickened into a full-blown beard. Dark, coarse hair now framed his face, spreading along his jawline, connecting up to his sideburns, even crawling subtly down his neck. He ran his fingers over it in disbelief—the sensation was real. The beard was dense, warm, masculine in a way that made his chiseled features look sharper, wilder.

His hand lingered there, fingertips grazing the unfamiliar growth. He hadn’t had facial hair like this since… well, never. It was as though his face had aged five years in five minutes—rugged, untamed, but still undeniably his.

The hair on his arms was thicker now too, standing out against the swell of his muscles. Not just growing—but accelerating. With each passing second, his body seemed to be claiming a new form, inch by inch. Not just stronger. Not just bigger.

Something else was happening. Something primal.

Kaden stared into his own eyes— still familiar—but with a flicker of something wild glinting in their depths.

The air felt hotter now. The silence around him, heavier.

Kaden’s hand shook just slightly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat pulsing through his veins. With a trembling thumb he hit record, angling the camera so both his reflection and the torn remnants of his workout shirt were in view. “This is insane,” he whispered, voice tight but excited, as he captured the faint ripples of new beard growth and the coarse dark hairs sprouting across his chest. Every few seconds he paused, zooming in on his bicep or tracing the emerging fur on his forearm, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fascination. Even as the hair continued its rapid spread, Kaden’s grip on the phone held steady—he needed proof, a timestamped record of a change that felt like it was ripping reality in two.

Then, almost as if triggered by the camera’s lens, his muscles surged again. His biceps ballooned beyond anything human, swelling into colossal peaks that strained the mirror’s reflection; veins snaked across them like braided cables, thundering with life. His chest heaved outward, each pec splitting into sharply defined slabs, and the deep grooves of his abs grew even deeper, casting dramatic shadows under the locker room lights. The transformation wasn’t just growth—it was an eruption of power, turning Kaden into a living testament to raw strength. His skin tightened so much it gleamed, as though polished, while veins bulged and throbbed under its surface, mapping every contour of his new, unprecedented form.

A low hum of energy seemed to pulse through Kaden’s veins as he watched, transfixed, in the mirror. What had started as a modest dusting of stubble now erupted into a dense, downy undercoat that spread from his jaw and neck down across the broad planes of his chest. The hairs thickened into coarse, wolf-like fur, each strand growing longer by the second. Kaden could almost feel the weight of it, a soft but unmistakable mat of hair brushing against his shredded abs and wrapping around the ridges of his serratus. His arms, once smooth and bare, became sheathed in a dark, plush covering that climbed over his shoulders, engulfing his traps and creeping up into his hairline, where his scalp hair lengthened and darkened in tandem.

He exhaled sharply as the transformation engulfed his lower body: a creeping tide of hair that raced down his sides, engulfed his hips, and flowed over his quadriceps like a thick pelt. The fine hairs on his forearms thickened into bristly fur, and even the backs of his hands sprouted tufts between his newly elongated fingers and claws. His legs, too, transformed—fine vellus hair erupted into a living covering that rippled with each flex of muscle, hiding the sharp definition beneath. In moments, where once had been smooth human skin was now an unbroken expanse of lustrous, dark fur—every inch of him a wild tapestry of hair, masculine strength, and feral instinct.

Kaden’s breath hitched as he felt a peculiar tug in the center of his face—his nose stretching forward, cartilage reshaping into a broad, wet muzzle. His nostrils flared open, growing wider and more sensitive to every scent in the locker room. Simultaneously, a sharp ache behind his temples marked the migration of his ears: the flesh and cartilage sliding up and back until they perched atop his skull, now pointed and triangular like a wolf’s. As the bone structure shifted, a thick down of fur sprouted across his cheeks and jaw, brushing against the coarse growth of his beard and merging into a seamless coat. 

His nose had lengthened into a broad, wet muzzle; the cartilage reshaped itself into powerful nostrils that flared with newfound sensitivity. The flesh behind his temples creaked and slid upward, carrying his ears to the crown of his head, where they now landed as tall, triangular wolf’s ears fringed with tufts of dark fur. Fine whiskers sprouted at the corners of his mouth, quivering against the coarse growth of his beard, while a thick down of fur blossomed across his cheeks and forehead. With a final ripple of muscle beneath that fur, the last vestiges of his human face smoothed into a perfect fusion of man and wolf.

From there, the transformation painted itself across his entire body. His broad shoulders and bulging chest, already sculpted like marble, were now sheathed in a dense pelt of lustrous, charcoal-gray fur. A powerful tail unfurled from the base of his spine, swishing with deliberate force. His arms and legs—already pillars of muscle—took on a more lupine form: digitigrade legs ending in padded paws, arms tipped with retractable claws that slid free with a satisfying click. Every fiber of his being hummed with strength; veins pulsed beneath fur so taut over corded muscles that it gleamed like burnished metal under the locker room lights.

He lifted a clawed hand and ran it over his chest, marveling at the sensation of fur brushing against his fingertips, the electric thrill of raw power radiating through his core. Tilting his head, he flexed his neck, feeling each sinew and ridge in his throat as he tested the weight of his new jaw. Deep down, a low growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest—no longer a whisper of surprise, but a roar of ownership. In the mirror, he saw not a man in a beast’s body, but a perfect hybrid: razor-sharp fangs glinting, golden eyes blazing with feral intelligence, and a physique that married human form to lupine ferocity.

With a sudden, ecstatic movement, Kaden slipped his phone into his pocket, eager to show off just for himself, no recording required, and dropped into a classic bodybuilding pose. He lowered both arms to his sides, flexing his triceps and biceps until the veins stood out like braided cables beneath the fur. He moved into a side chest pose, one paw planted firmly on his fur-covered forearm, the other pressing against his bulge, attempting to hide his glee at the situation, despite the initial strangeness of the second transformation. Muscles pressing against his fur-covered skin, Kaden watched the ripples of muscle dance under the dense coat. Finally, he lowered himself into a powerful lunge, tail swishing, claws digging into the floor, and let out a triumphant, echoing howl that shook the lockers around him. In that moment, Kaden didn’t just see his new form—he embodied it.

[synodicsoma]

🌕🐺

[alternate-real-ities]

No longer a good boy...

Based on @occamstfs' story.

[pobblebonked]

plush wolf'd!!!

commission for BlueFellaTF on twitter

[pawberri]

😈

[musclejedi-tameem]

Bryan was not having a good day at all. Every little thing seemed to be setting him off and making him angry. His body also hurt all over and he couldn’t figure out why. His skin just felt tight. When he got home from work, late which was a bother thing that made him angry, he sank down into the couch to try and rest before he changed clothes and had dinner. On his phone he noticed a text from the man he had hooked up with last week, which was odd since they hadn’t spoken since. But Bryan thought maybe he was interested in meeting up again, the guy was a total daddy and was huge and muscular and hairy and Bryan had enjoyed their night together. But the text just said “Enjoy your night pup.” While tying to figure out what that meant or if he had gotten the wrong text or something Bryan looked outside and saw that the moon was already rising and that it was full. At that moment he was seized with stabbing pains all over his body and he fell to the floor as he groaned. When he opened his eyes he noticed that his hands were pulsing and growing longer and that his nails were growing out into thick claws. He moaned more as he felt his body being pumped up as his muscles grew in thick and started tearing his clothes off. Through the pain he felt itchy as thick brown fur began to come his muscles and he realized in a daze that he was becoming a werewolf! He thought it was a dream but the pain was too intense and real. He groan more as a sharp pain in his ass heralded the growth of his bushy tail. His feet formed into large clawed paws and his legs painfully bent backwards into canine like hocks. It was then that he entered the final bits of his transformation and his ears grew and became pointed and shifted to the top of his head. His face pushed out into a long lupine muzzle and his teeth grew sharp and pointed. His eyes became sharp and predatory and glowed a bright blue as he felt his new lungs heave as he gave his first howl. “Arrroooo!!!!!” Bryan was gone now, for the rest of the night he was now this beast and he was not in control. Thankfully Bryan lived on the edge of town so the new werewolf busted out the open window and off into the night. Waiting for him outside was a massive black werewolf, the man that Bryan had hooked up with a week before, he treated his new pack brother and together they went off to hunt for the rest of the night. Now they would always be together bound by the moon cycle.

[skylermadness]

Snack Shenanigans [A Side] (Scott Howl TF/TG/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: October 27, 2023)

Wow, it's been about a year since the last time I wrote an FtM TF/TG and so far both FtMs I've written back to back are into werewolf characters. I've been itching to write out another Scott Howl FtM for a while now so I decided to finally get off my butt and actually write one! I'm trying to go back to more simplistic plots and such so the set-up and such is a bit short but I don't mind it. I'm just glad to provide more jock character FtMs in the world. It's a fun little subgenre that there just isn't enough of! On a more interesting note, this is the first time I managed to complete a second self-imposed challenge on myself: giving a story an alt! This was an idea that I thought worked for multiple characters and decided why not reuse it for an alternative version of the story into a different story! If you want to read it (which is a TF into the character Gunzo from Tokyo Afterschool Summoners). That'll be uploaded later this week.

   One of the more prominent constants when it came to Madison's daily trips to her college campus were her visits to the cafeteria vending machines. And more often than not whenever she did she would typically buy the exact same thing from the machine’s array of snack foods. Most of her freshman year in college was spent buying out the machine’s mini-sandwich cookie stock, but she eventually grew tired of those and switched over to either chips or chocolate bars depending on her mood that week. With all things considered her trips to the vending machine were short, simplistic, and unchanging.

   That was until today anyway. Madison found herself staring through the machine’s glass in curiosity, her eyes instantly scrutinizing a change in the machine’s selection. Usually the item labeled 206 was some random bag of chips whose brand she didn’t care to memorize since it wasn’t the kind she ordered. However she knew that what occupied that label wasn’t the brand she didn’t remember. Rather it seemed to be something new and unfamiliar to the woman.

   The bag was simply labeled Scott Snacks with a fairly simple graphic of a bunch of potato chips with what she presumed to be the bag’s mascot (a thick bearded and fluffy haired man) giving a thumbs up. On one hand, the bag did look fairly generic. Then again most chip bags have that feel so it didn’t fully matter to Madison. She couldn’t really discern any other details from the bag such as flavor, but at the same time the graphic gave the vibe of either something plain or something cheesy. Neither prospects were ones she was against, especially since in the end all of this was just an excuse for her to deaden her appetite for the remainder of her classes. 

   With her mind made up Madison made the order with the vending machine. A satisfying thunk could be heard as the bag was pushed forward off the conveyor and into the machine’s pick-up box. She always despised when things got stuck in the vending machine, it was always a slightly embarrassing hassle…

   Successfully retrieving her snack, she idly placed it into her backpack before hauling it onto her back and making her way out of the cafeteria. Madison disliked eating around other people she was unfamiliar with, the woman much rather preferring to find a nice quiet seat on one of the hallway benches and eating whatever she retrieved there. A short trek and a turn would lead her to her favorite spot of solitude (barring the occasional person who would walk out the elevator beside the bench). Placing her backpack beside her as she took a seat she removed the bag of unfamiliar chips from its confines and opened it. Casually she leaned her back against the wall behind her, finally opening the bag of chips and taking one out.

   Considering the unfamiliarity of the situation, Madison had deemed it necessary to eye up the singular chip for a good few seconds. Standard looking potato chip, orange dust that denotes a cheese flavor, some flecks of salt. Although as these exact terms roamed through her head she realized that she somehow sounded like some kind of chip elitist. So in the end she just disregarded her concerns and placed the chip in her mouth.

   …yup, very cheesy. Even has a bit of a meaty aftertaste as well. It wasn’t actually that bad. Perhaps this was a sign she could add a third snack into her vending machine rotation!

   With those thoughts in her mind Madison continued eating, the woman blissfully unaware of the changes starting to form on her body as she did. It was rather isolated at first. The fingers on both hands slowly got thicker, ends and nails getting more blunt with each passing second. This evidently continued as her fingers continued to grow in thickness with a similar shift in size quickly jumping to the hands themselves. A firm meatiness steadily accumulating within each hand; larger, bulkier, seemingly more powerful in appearance.

   That wasn’t the weirdest part of this transformation however. That came when something coarse started to poke out of the back of her hand. It was short at first with what looked to be follicles only millimeters in length, but it didn’t take long for them to grow out and quickly overtake the backs of each hand. What had rapidly sprouted from each hand were large amounts of dark brown hairs. This new development practically gives a more defined masculine feel to her already larger and almost blockier hands.

   Evidently this supposedly masc appearance was one that would quickly spread beyond her wrists and beneath the sleeves of her sweater. Her musculature was the first that began to get affected. A mild heat surged through them as a steady thickness slowly burgeoned within each arm. Raw strength building up in each limb and filling their once slender appearance with a now dense and much more powerful look to them. It wasn't long until the sleeves of her sweater began filling out and the outlines of her muscles etched into the fabric.

   The warmth in Madison's arms only grew more prominent as well with the hairiness of her hands quickly trailing up to her forearms. Heavy amounts of brown hairs coating their way across the back of each arm, the density of this forest of almost fur-like hairs getting more and more thick the closer it got towards her elbows. This steady increase in arm hair density would soon result in a thick tuft of arm hair that practically spiked out of each forearm. Unfortunately for the time being it would seem this major growth would remain hidden in her sleeves.

   Less dense, albeit still very prominent, arm hair growth continued as it made its way to her upper arms and shoulders to coat the outer sections of them with ease. It was also by now that some of the more major muscle groups had gotten their almost instant workout with her biceps having bulked up alongside her triceps. The broadness of Madison's shoulders increased drastically as the deltoid muscles developed and rounded out even more. By this point the almost fragile seaming of her sweater began to break, tears forming against the new brawniness of her arms and revealing bits of her new coat of hair.

   The sudden sounds of tearing finally alerted her to the changes, Madison placing the chip she was holding in her mouth before inspecting the source of the sound. Her eyes widened. "Wh-huh…? What happened to my arm?? And is that… hair…?"

   Her gaze trailed downwards, the woman inspecting one arm up until she laid eyes on her hands. "How long have they been like that!?"

   A part of her wanted to panic but something about the sight was just intriguing. She held a changed hand up in front of her, looking at the thickness and hairiness of it all. It was a little uncanny, especially with all the chip dust, but it looked firm. Strong.

   While Madison preoccupied with staring at her hand the changes in her physical form only continued. It didn't take long for everything to move beyond her shoulders. The two waves of transformation quickly crashed into each other at the midline of her chest and from there expanded even more across the woman's body. 

   The overall width of Madison's frame was probably the next thing to start changing, her form broadening out and shifting to dispel her usually skinny figure more. This type of change got more prominent as her chest became the next part of her body to get altered. While the hair continued its spread and coating her chest, the fatty tissue of her breasts began to melt off and slowly flatten them. As it did so the muscles beneath them began to grow, swelling out rapidly to the point it would almost appear that her breasts hardened into thick meaty slabs of pectorals. These newly developed muscles would quickly grow to fill up the upper portion of her sweater, her now more masculine cleavage denting into the fabric.

   The lower half of her body followed not long after as it too was changing. Her abdomen churned, bubbling almost as abdominal muscles steadily rose from her skin. They slotted out almost sequentially with row after row extending out until she had been granted a six-pack set of abs. All the while the hair that had coated her chest was cascading downwards, the coarse brown fuzz rapidly consuming her abdominal region. By this point the frontal portion of her body just looked like it had a darker shade than the back due to all this hair. And as the hair trailed to the sides she could feel her oblique muscles begin to burn a bit, alongside some cramping inside her that took her focus off her hands so she could use them to support her abdomen as she bent forward in mild pain.

   "A-agh-" she winced, the sound of her voice seeming to crack only momentarily playing in her ears. She started to realize just how tight her shirt was getting, and she presumed it wouldn't be long until everything else would change to fit whatever form she was taking. A light haze was also entering her mind, thoughts steadily becoming a little bit harder as all these changes were overtaking her form. Curiosity faded to confusion, and that confusion quickly jumped to worry as she was still conscious enough to realize she didn't want to rip out of her shirt in a public hallway.

   Madison ultimately decided to forgo her backpack and the rest of the chips to her side, then lifted herself up from the bench and hastily made her way around the hallway's corner in order to head into the nearest bathroom. Luckily it was unoccupied, so she just rushed in there and locked the door before heading to the mirror. Although it would seem she didn't notice that she had subconsciously rushed into the men's room…

   Staring at herself in the mirror she came to the slow realization of just how large she had become. Not just in width but also in height as she evidently looked a little taller, especially with the hem of her sweater rising up her body. That and the slightly prominent feel of decompression in the woman's spine that seemed to grow more and more. Then there was this building pressure at the base of her spine that only continued to grow in prominence the more she continued to stare in the mirror. That coupled with the sight of more hair growing up her neck and beneath her jaw all made for this experience to feel even more surreal than it did prior.

   Madison raised her head a bit and scratched the scruff on her neck. "A-ahh…" she let out a light breath. It felt a little good to finally scratch that fuzz after all this time. It helped clear her brain up just a bit, but it inevitably filled back up with fog. All she could do was stare at herself in the mirror and scratch herself, her only statement being, "Just… what is happening to me?" She asked that with a smile however. There just felt like nothing to distress over. Not the weird muscular form she had, or the increase in hairiness, or the fact her voice continued to shift to a point that sounded deeper and more laid-back. 

   She didn't even feel the need to worry over hearing the back of her pants suddenly split open, a tail with thick brown fur seeming to have almost instantly elongated from her spine's tailbone and freed itself from the confines of her legwear. All she did was look behind her as something in her brain seemed to click with the new appendage. She curled it up towards her and gently grabbed it with her free hand. All the while a goofy grin had formed on her face. "I have a tail now!? Cool!"

   All during this sequence of events, the changes were also making their progression down to Madison's legs. This section of the transformation mirrored that of her arms, muscle mass easily packing into both sections of her legs with a quick pacing. Thighs grew thicker with bulkier hamstrings and quadriceps, and she could feel a surge of heat flare up in her calves as they bloated up with muscle mass as well. Her height continued to increase as well, and the brown hairs rapidly rushed downwards to encompass the surface area of her legs. All of this combined contributed to her jeans feeling severely more constricted, a few tears forming in the sides as a result.

   What followed were the changes in her feet. While hair emerged from the bridge of her feet, the overall size of them steadily increased in all directions. They got wider, pushing up against the sides of her shoes easily. And they got longer, heels digging into the back of her footwear while her toes pressed up against the front. It wouldn't take very long for them to grow to a fitting proportion for her new body, their appearance having quickly altered to fit the more rugged and masculine look that Madison now was possessing. It resulted in her shoes having immense trouble containing her larger feet with a couple rips already forming across the sides.

   The last person of her physical form that remained unchanged was her face, but as Madison started to see and feel the soft pricks of hair poking out her skin she knew that wasn't going to last long. 

   "B-bro!" she casually yelled out to no one in particular, her voice now settling into that aforementioned laid-back and male cadence that had been etching into it this whole time. "Guess I'll be getting a beard next! Might as well start considering myself a guy at this point!"

   The very thought of that was appealing to him. If anything, it felt like the always correct assumption. For some reason something about this new form felt so good and so much more correct now! It was as if it should have always been him!

   He continued to stare into the mirror, a look of enjoyment on his face as he saw the brown fuzz continuing to grow out his chin. This fuzz grew thicker and thicker, and it's spread expanded across his jawline rapidly. From the middle, trailing up his sides, slowly connecting to the slight sideburns he possessed. As his beard got more dense and bushy it gained an almost spiky styling as well. All the while his jawline shifted beneath it, broadening and chiseling out into a more square shape.

   If anything it would seem Madison's entire face shifted to gain a more masculine appearance. Skull widening for a broader structure, nose enlarging slightly, a certain level of toughness formulating across his skin. Bits of his beard even poked out from his jawline and onto his face in order to grow on a small portion of his cheeks. There even came a set of even stranger changes to his head's physicality such as his ears lengthening and sharpening to a point, or the hairs on his eyebrows increasing in amount drastically to gain a similar level of spiked bushiness that his beard possessed. There had also seemed to be a level of sharpness entering much of his teeth as well.

   All while these changes occurred, his hair was in the process of shifting and restyling to fit his new body. It had already begun to shorten as his beard was beginning to grow, and it continued to do so as his beard got more prominent and his face continued to change. Slowly it went up from being shoulder length to trailing up the nape of his neck to being of equal length with his chin, and it still got shorter as time continued. All the while the waviness of it was straightened, and the dark blonde coloration was deepened to the same brown as the rest of his body and facial hair. By the time his hair got to what the transformation seemed as an acceptable length, its density seemed to shift into something fur-like before bits of it fluffed and stuck out into a thick and messy spiky style. One that he just couldn't resist running a hand through to just feel the fluffiness of his hair.

   "This is so cool, dude…" he said, watching his hair spike back up after getting run through by his hand. And the man only continued to poke and prod at bits of his body by scratching his beard, scritching himself behind his ear, and giving his muscles some good flexes. He even couldn't help from tearing open his sweater from the front to let his pecs and abs breathe. Everything about this body felt so new, but at the same time the cloud in his mind was making it seem so familiar as well.

   Shouldn't this be his body? Why was it so hard to even recall what his other body was like? Did he even have another body? If this body is so familiar it just must be his, right?!

   He could feel his eyes beginning to drift to the side in confusion. "Ooh, too many questions in my brain! Is this what happens when you think too much…"

   For some reason he really felt like he wasn't used to using his brain for extended periods of time. If he were to be honest everything about it just felt drained! Like so many aspects has been dulled down or simplified in himself. All of this was making the concept of having an identity prior to this one feel so fleeting and incorrect. He just wanted to completely disregard it as too complicated. A lot of things just felt complicated at this point.

   He braced himself on the bathroom sink, mind in complete confusion to the point he wasn't keeping track of what was going on with his clothing. His attire had seemed to finally start to shift.The sleeves of his sweater slowly lifted upwards to unveil the dense fluff of his forearms, the rips all sealed themselves while the tear he made down the middle of his shirt restitched itself to look like it was meant to be there. The coloration of the sleeves bleached to white while the wrists shifted to red, meanwhile the actual body of the sweater shifted to the same shade of red. Buttons and eyelets lined the split while a small white and red-striped collar raised from the neck. With the formation of pockets on each side of the newly shifted clothing, it seemed his sweater had altered into a varsity jacket. Meanwhile a plain white t-shirt materialized beneath it and around his body, its size being just baggy enough to still reveal the upper portion of his chest.

   Following this came the less impressive changes in his legwear and footwear. His jeans just grew a bit to better fit his legs while repairing themselves. The tear in the back also restitched to look intentional, seemingly becoming a hole for his tail that went beneath the belt loop. His shoes did go through a bit more drastic of a change, also growing and repairing while the sides brightened to a red and the soles and front became white. The cloth toughened up as the strings became straps, fully shifting his footwear into a pair of athletic sneakers. 

   The man's thoughts continued to simplify as his earlier concerns were constantly drained away. Thoughts of a former identity and life disappearing, the rising worries about them being dispelled as he couldn't even remember what he had to be worried about! All that mattered was football and hanging out with his bros after all! Nothing to worry about from that!

   It was also by this point that his identity fully solidified. Scott Howl!

   Wait, is he telling himself to howl?

   "AWWROOOOOOOOO!!!" he howled out, the sound echoing through the small one-person bathroom. Once it was all let out he opened his eyes, a nice royal blue having embedded within them.

   "Oh wait, I was just thinking about my last name!"

   One of Scott's ears flicked as he heard someone knock on the bathroom door. "Uhhh, I'm taking it this is occupied?"

   The werewolf made his way to the entrance and opened it. "Was just finishing up with… whatever I was doing!"

   The comment made the guy who was on the other side of the bathroom door somewhat confused, but between that and the fact they were facing a large hairy man with a tail this whole situation was already feeling weird. "What were you doing… howling??"

   Scott just smiled and ruffled the other man's hair. "Sometimes you just have to let one out, y'know?" He then moved past them and made his leave. The random man just watched him leave, both unaware that the burly football player's interaction with him had left an almost pitch black stain in the follicles of the man's hair that very slowly spread across it. But they just shook their head and walked into the bathroom, deciding to just disregard the strange interaction.

   Meanwhile, Scott made his way down the hall before his heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of something… cheesy? Meaty? His head turned to find a bag of chips labeled Scott Snacks beside a backpack on top of a bench. For some reason his brain registered both as his own.

   "Oh, can't forget about these!" He walked over to the bench and hauled up the backpack to his back before picking up the bag of chips. Popping one in his mouth he comments, "This'll make a great snack before practice!" before going about his day…

[fareplay]

Werewolves that can talk through the first part of the transformation. There's the usual "Stay back" Get away from me." at first but as their mind changes too they seem more and more like someone else with the same voice. "Sorry about this...but I'm just so hungry..." "You should run. I love it when they run." "I'm going to tear you apart, starting with..." "Something smells good..."

[synodicsoma]

Unpolished TF featuring good ol Grunkle Stan

[yisony07]

Wolfed Love

This story is very different from what I usually do. I haven't given up on the mask or ghost stories yet, but I wanted to try something different. Hope you like it!! 🤎🤎🤎

The aroma of coffee alerted the redhead Marcus Anderson that the coffee maker had finished brewing the coffee, so he stood up from the couch and, as he headed to the kitchen, he took the opportunity to close the curtains and thus prevent the bloody light of the evening sun from coming in, giving the house a somewhat cold and quiet atmosphere. The only noise that could be heard was that of the washer-dryer, which had been running since Marcus had arrived a few hours ago.

Marcus arrived in the kitchen, turned off the stove and poured two cups of coffee. Then, he threw in a couple of sugar cubes and a little cream and took them to the table in front of the couch where he had been sitting. The redhead looked at the wall clock and a worried sigh came out of his lips before he began to shake his leg out of anxiety.

At that moment, the door opened and a black-haired man, of the same build as Marcus, dressed in a suit and tie and somewhat sweaty and tired, entered the room. Marcus noticed his lost gaze and slumped shoulders as well. As soon as he entered, Marcus stood up and approached him to give him a kiss on the lips, which the newcomer immediately returned.

“Hey, Mark-baby,” the black-haired man said and turned his tired gaze to Marcus.

“Hey, Oliver,” Marcus replied and took Oliver’s hand to lead him to the couch. “Tough day, huh?”

“It was horrible!” Oliver said and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Well… I made us some coffee, maybe that will relax you a little.”

“You know me well,” Oliver said, followed by a giggle. Then, the couple sat on the couch and began to drink their cups of coffee.

Oliver and Marcus had met a long time ago when they were working at a call center. Despite being a very well-paid job, it was stressful because of the variety of people they had to deal with. Oliver was very friendly, but had little patience, and found it difficult to contain himself when he got upset; Marcus was calmer, although he couldn't handle angry or shouting callers, and would quickly hang up. Their ways differed markedly, and yet they both found mutual relief in being able to make fun of their most atrocious experiences.

Over time, they both left work to pursue something else, but their friendship not only persisted, but grew stronger, transforming into something deeper. That connection was what led them to make the decision to live together. Marcus had been luckier than Oliver, as he was self-employed, while Oliver had an office job as stressful as the sitcoms they watched together made it seem.

The couple enjoyed coffee as Oliver unburdened himself by telling his story about his day.

“And just when I was supposed to leave, the HR guy told me I had to fix my documents… I thought I had made a mistake…” Oliver said and took another sip from his cup, “and it turned out he didn’t understand the Excel template, I wasted all that time explaining it to him! And so, that’s why I arrived at this time.”

“Hehe, such an idiot.”

“I thought I heard the boss say that they are going to change it… but in the meantime, we have to put up with it.”

“Is it your turn to go tomorrow?”

“No, the boss is going on vacation and my department depends on him, so I’ll be free this week.”

“Excellent! We could plan the trip to that hot…” Marcus stopped when he heard an alarm. “The laundry is already ready… I’ll take care of it and fold it before bed, okay?”

“In that case, I’ll wash the dishes.”

Marcus gave Oliver another kiss before getting up and going to the room where they kept the washing machine. As he crossed the hall, he noticed that it was already dark, with the full moon shining brightly over the dark sky. Upon reaching the washer-dryer, Marcus placed the clothes in a basket and left them in the room where they slept. He returned to Oliver in the kitchen, who had taken off his shirt, leaving him only in his white t-shirt. Marcus approached him, hugged him from behind, placing kisses on his neck.

“Particularly affectionate, huh?” Oliver commented.

“To see if it helps your mood…” Marcus replied, and once Oliver finished with the dishes, they both made dinner and ate, and soon they were already in their room, with the curtains open, where they both began to fold the clothes.

“You could sleep, I could dedicate myself to this alone,” Marcus said, taking a pair of pants and folding them.

“But I couldn't, you know I like the spoon position and I understand that it takes two, right?” Oliver answered, picking up and folding t-shirts at a remarkably fast speed.

“There’s your pillow.”

“You’re my pillow.”

As they took out the clothes, they folded them before stacking them according to their type: underwear and socks, then t-shirts, shirts, pants… Marcus thought they had finished when, as he put his hand in the basket for the last time, he came across a woolly surface that he couldn’t recognize and found extremely strange.

“Huh? W-what is this?” Marcus asked as he picked up the object that was inside. Great was his surprise when, upon taking it out, he found a wolf mask.

“Wow! That’s cool,” Oliver exclaimed without thinking, noticing the dark grey fabric the mask was made of, with holes for the eyes. Marcus tilted it a little further and it fell off, revealing another similar mask, only made of brown fabric. Oliver picked up the greyish mask.

Only one question invaded the couple’s minds: Where had those two masks come from?

“It’s amazing!” Oliver said, admiring the mask, looking at those holes where the eyes of whoever could see it would be as if he was also looking back at him. “And it feels really soft…” he added, wanting to try it immediately. He already felt the fabric brushing his forehead when Marcus stopped him.

“Wait! We don’t even know where they came from! Or did you buy them?”

“No, I would have told you,” Oliver replied immediately, somewhat discouraged by Marcus’ reaction.

“Well, I don’t know if it would be a good idea to put them on now,” Marcus replied, leaving the mask he was holding on the basket.

“Come on, Mark, what’s the worst that can happen?” and with that said, Oliver put the mask on.

With a sigh of resignation, Marcus put the mask on. It felt surprisingly comfortable: the fabric offered a soft, warm hug to his skin and the position of the wolfish eyes, nose, and mouth matched those of his face. It felt good… strangely good.

“Well, I guess we could take them off to go to sleep…” Marcus said and glanced at Oliver, who, with his mouth half open, stared intently out the window, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “Olie…?”

“Why don’t we go outside? The moon looks interesting…” Oliver said in a tone that was strange to Marcus, as it was slower than usual.

“Oliver, what’s wrong?” Marcus asked, but Oliver grabbed him and pulled him along with unusual strength.

Marcus tried to get away as best he could, but to his surprise and confusion, it was difficult, not so much because he didn't have enough strength to break free, but because his arms didn't seem to respond to his commands. As they continued walking, Marcus wanted to break free, but his hands were involuntarily under Oliver's grip, so in a matter of minutes they were both outside the house, covered under an immense dark sky. The couple continued walking until Oliver released Marcus in a clearing in the forest surrounding their home.

When Oliver looked up at the sky, he noticed that the moon was covered by clouds, so he was unable to appreciate its splendor. Marcus, for his part, was still confused, with chills seeing his partner act so strangely after putting on the masks.

“Uh... Oliver? I think we should take this off and investigate later...” Marcus said, watching him.

Oliver looked away at Marcus's eyes. “But it’s so comfortable!” he protested.

“But still… I’m a little nervous about all this… please,” he pleaded.

Oliver sighed in defeat. “Okay, okay…”

He brought his hands up to his head to pull the mask off. After a few tries, however, he gave up.

“Uh… Marcus? I can’t get it off,” Oliver said, “It’s stuck.”

“How?” Marcus asked, squinting, and he tried to take off the mask too, but couldn’t. It was like it was stuck to his body like it refused to leave his head.

At that moment, the dark clouds covering the moon moved, allowing it to shine unhindered. Both Marcus and Oliver then felt their arms grow heavier than usual and involuntarily stopped pulling. Quickly, they both felt the mask sticking more and more to their skin. Their breathing became labored. Oliver fell to the ground while Marcus grabbed onto a nearby tree.

With a *crack*, both men's shirts were torn as their torsos and muscle mass grew rapidly. Little by little, a bunch of hair sprouted from every inch of their skin: brown for Marcus and black for Oliver. Marcus panted and staggered as his skin was covered, while Oliver was calmer on the ground, not resisting. Fangs replaced their teeth, claws replaced their nails, their ears were hidden under the mask's ears, which took on a realistic texture, their noses and lips were replaced by the mask, which had fused to them, and little by little human words and ideas stopped making sense to them.

Within minutes, they both lay still. When Oliver tried to say something, a growl came from his lips, although Marcus seemed to understand it, and went to help him up. The couple had become werewolves, but any concern was overtaken by a longing to run through the forest, feel the airflow through their fur, and be bathed in the moonlight. They may not be able to communicate through words, but the growls were enough to understand each other. Marcus and Oliver ran through the forest during the night, to explore their abilities, and to enjoy their new possibilities together.

[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 31: Tyler Hoechlin to Derek Hale TF

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25 │ 26 │ 27 │ 28 │ 29 │ 30 │ 31 🎃

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!

-- -- --

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.

[aubrietarose]

POV: Something doesn't feel right... (Or maybe it's VERY right. Happy TFTuesday !) Don't forget, I post new stuff like this animation several days early 2x per week over on Patreon, along with other perks. 😊

[croissant-deau]

idk what to tell you I guess I'm on a were kick

[pobblebonked]

caught changing!

[omoriboii]

Do you see yourself as being a good vampire or a good werewolf?

Both are sooo goood....but. If i had to choose I def have more of a soft spot for werewolves.

Here's a doggo kouta after a good meal.

[headcupsy]

It's full moon O' clock, you know what time it is.

TW: Blood, Vomit.

i made a remake of my original Werewolf!Goemon tf comic, i hope you like it.