Stiles kept his concentration, strategically waving his hands over a simmering silver chalice. Fifteen minutes of uninterrupted incantation muttering was less than desirable, however, Stiles figured that successfully casting a minor time-reversal spell would make the tiresome chore worth it in the end. He knew that it would eventually come in handy during the supernatural mayhem that occasionally buzzed through Beacon Hills. And as a powerful sorcerer in his own right, Stiles felt more than capable.
“Is it working—” Derek asked, coming up to stand beside his enchanting husband.
“—Retrorsum Converti!” Stiles chanted out, finishing the spell with a particularly flamboyant waggle of his fingers.
The two stared expectantly into the silver chalice, watching as the simmering blue liquid calmed completely and settled. Stiles immediately pouted, scratching at the top of his head in confusion. He did everything that he was supposed to do. It took two months to gather the correct ingredients, took an hour of actual pre-cast set up, and fifteen full minutes of incantation work—Stiles was pissed. The spell should have worked…or at least, did something magical.
Just then, the chalice fiercely shook and spit out the semi-coagulated blue liquid—splashing Derek across the face and upper torso. He growled out in disgusted agony. Some of the liquid had made it into his mouth, spreading across his taste buds with a savage flavor that could only be described as sugary burnt mustard. Derek palmed at his face, swiping the goop from his eyes down to splat down against the floor.
“That’s it.” Derek started, slightly coughing at the continued bad taste. “We’re done with amateur ‘create-your-own’ spells. You’re sticking to what you know already works.”
“Oh, come on.” Stiles said, grabbing a clean rag from the table that the chalice had been set atop. “You’ve been through a whole hell of a lot worse than some smelly old spell water. You should have used those werewolf reflexes to jump out of the way.”
Derek groaned pensively, retiring upstairs to the bathroom. It was late and time for a shower anyways. Plus, he wasn’t about to get swindled into helping clean up the stupid magical mess. Stiles was the one who wanted to make the spell and he was most definitely going to be the one to mop up all of the squishy remains. Derek, however, knew that he got to go enjoy a hot shower and fantasize about the times back when Stiles didn’t know magic actually existed.
Eventually, Derek and Stiles ended up in bed. Both of them had taken their showers and the mess downstairs had been thoroughly swept under the metaphorical rug with a couple cleaning charms. Magic wasn’t necessarily all bad. At least, not when it worked out the way that Stiles intended. Though, Stiles was potentially open to persuasion if the universe had anything interesting to offer.
There was a loud crash downstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps walking around—which immediately gripped Stiles and Derek’s collective attention. It was obvious that somebody had decided to break into their home, although the two wanted to know exactly who was dumb enough to break into an alpha’s residence. Naturally, the two barreled downstairs—Derek, with his claws already extended, and Stiles, fingertips itching to fire off a couple defensive attacks—only to find a glowing yellow-eyed silhouette in the darkness.
“What the fuck do you think you’re—” Derek growled, letting his eyes flare a vicious red.
Stiles snapped his fingers, making all the lights in the downstairs portion of the house switch on. It was a simplistic spell, which is why Stiles found himself momentarily confused at the immediate silence of Derek and the pause of his interrogative question. But then Stiles laid eyes on the intruder and realized exactly why Derek had fallen so silent.
“Is that—?” Stiles started, cut off by Derek.
“A younger version of myself? Yes.” Derek confirmed, letting his claws retract.
There, standing in the dead center of the living room, stood a younger version of the infamous Derek Hale. He was wearing a classic maroon and silver Beacon Hills High graduation cap and gown, suggesting that he had been plucked out from Derek’s graduation day in the past and dropped smack dab in the future—Stiles and Derek’s future to be exact. All it did was explain the immense look of confusion on younger Derek’s face.
It was odd to see a version of Derek that was so much younger. He most definitely wasn’t the forty-two year old Derek that Stiles was currently married to. No, the younger Derek was softer and brighter. There were no soft age lines or graying hair, no solid beefed-up muscles, and no red alpha eyes. The grand ol’ stubble hadn’t even really started to grow in yet on younger Derek’s jaw. And yet, the contemplatively creased eyebrows and deep emerald eyes were unmistakably recognizable.
Suddenly, there was a bright and hazy portal window that opened up above the coffee table. The lights throughout the house momentarily flickered and then a shadowy figured dropped out of the portal and crashed down onto the table with a pained grunt. As Stiles, Derek, and his younger half circled the newest mysterious stranger, the portal screeched and faded away as though it had never been there.
From the splinted remains of the wooden table and through the cloud of dust, another version of Derek appeared—rising up to stand solidly in the space. It was another slightly younger Derek, but obviously pulled out from the pastime when he and Stiles were barely even acquaintances—back when he was around twenty-four. The paler, worn complexion, the obvious stubble, the intensively broody stare, and the reappearance of Derek’s old flappy-sleeved leather jacket made him an interesting blast from the past.
“So—two younger versions of yourself.” Stiles analyzed.
“And this is why you don’t fuck around with untested spells, Stiles.” Derek said, switching his glare between Stiles and his two younger selves. “It splashed on me and now look what’s happening.”
“This is the future?” Derek’s teenaged version questioned, stepping closer to Stiles.
“For you guys—yeah, I guess.” Stiles said. “Where—when are the two of you from?”
The two younger versions of Derek stepped closer to one another—as if to close in ranks. They analyzed the future forms of Stiles and Derek with intrigue and slight hesitation. Neither of the “new-two” could pick up any deceptive upticks in the rhythm of Stiles’ heart. Supernatural trickery didn’t appear to be involved. Although, it did seem as though some sort of crazy magic had been worked to create the situation.
“I’m supposed to be celebrating my graduation today. May 15th 2005. I went upstairs to change out of my cap and gown and then I got blasted into the future.” The youngest version of Derek said. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but it seems like fucking things up is your specialty.”
“Damn—were you always so foulmouthed?” Stiles chuckled, bumping his Derek with the point of his elbow.
The original Derek just stood there motionless, clearly annoyed with the whole situation. It wasn’t every day that his husband could accomplish such a drastic error in spellcasting. But as living evidence had it, Stiles was more than capable in the ‘fuck up’ department. There was no guarantee that Stiles would be able to fix the issue and considering the fact that it was a brand new spell of Stiles’ making, there most likely wasn’t a reversal spell available to the public.
“January 2011.” The broodier Derek spoke up, drawing attention from everybody else in the crowd. “I shouldn’t actually be surprised that you’re still a pain in my ass here in the future, Stiles.” He sneered.
“Ah, twenty-eleven? We must have just met.” Stiles acknowledged, recollecting his memory of that semester back in high school when Scott got bitten and Derek was grumpy around the clock.
“And I’m already tired of it.” The broody Derek added, crossing his arms with a frustrated huff of breath.
Stiles scratched at the back of his neck, attempting to wrap his mind around what was happening. He looked over to his Derek—the one who he had known for years and years and married—not sure as to whether or not he would be able to remedy the issue at hand. What ramifications would the universe encounter as a result of Stiles’ botched spellcasting? How was he supposed to deal with three different Derek Hales?
“Well, until I figure out how to get the two of you back to your own times, you’re confined to this house.” Stiles explained. “Mister Graduation, I’m just gonna refer to you as ‘Beta Derek’. And you, Mister Grumpy—I’m gonna call you Omega Derek.”
“I have work tomorrow.” The original Derek deadpanned, glaring at Stiles. “Figure out a way to fix all of this. I’m going back to sleep, and I swear there better not be any more versions of me when I wake up in the morning, Stiles.”
“What, you don’t want to tuck yourselves into bed for the night?” Stiles joked, receiving no laughs from his husband or Omega Derek, but got something of a stifled laugh from Beta Derek.
Omega Derek settled on the couch in the living room, not even bothering to wait for a complimentary blanket and pillow from Stiles. Instead, he spread out horizontally across the couch, crossed his arms, and then closed his eyes—searching for sleep. Meanwhile, Beta Derek followed after Stiles into the hallway to a small closet that housed spare blankets and pillows for guests. He was interested in the whole time mishap, but even more interested in Stiles—who was apparently important in the future to come.
“So, what are you exactly?” Beta Derek questioned, leaning smugly against one of the walls of the hallway. “In the future, are we dating, married, divorced, or what?”
“We’re married.” Stiles snorted, tugging out a blanket from the closet.
Beta Derek hummed in acknowledgement, scratching at the back of his head. “I guess I do pretty well for myself then.” He said, carefully scanning over Stiles’ body. “I’d say you’re pretty hot, which means my future self totally hit that. I hope we do it tons in the future.”
Stiles laughed, shoving the pile of fresh blankets and pillows into the arms of Beta Derek. “Y’know, I’ve never actually wondered much about what Derek was like as a horny little eighteen year old, but I guess I know now, don’t I?” He breezed past the teenager, patting him on the shoulder.
Stiles then returned to the living room as Beta Derek followed behind with the new blankets. He placed his hands on his hips and beamed over to where Omega Derek was attempting to sleep. He had forgotten what a broody recluse Derek had been back when they had first met. Yet, Stiles could remember how much more interesting it had made him. Stiles could remember all of the times that he had caught himself accidentally thinking about Derek’s broodiness and how it had made him seem like such a forbidden hot bad boy.
“Unless you want to deprive yourself of warmth through the night, I suggest you take a blanket and bundle up. I’ll figure out how to get you back to your actual time period tomorrow.” Stiles announced over to where Omega Derek was laying quietly.
It was around nine in the morning. The actual Derek had already gone off to work for the day, but Stiles had the luxury of working from home. Instead of getting up and jumping onto the problem of fixing the time mishap with the misplaced Dereks, Stiles continued to sleep—completely lost to the world of reality and immersed deeply within the world of his own dreams. And the best part was that he was in the midst of working through a feverishly naughty sex dream, unwilling to let it go to waste.
Stiles was rock hard, thrusting rapidly into the heat of Derek’s mouth. In his dream, he was in the dirty back restrooms of his favorite nightclub, bobbing his head around to the distant thump of electronic dance music. All the while, his husband was down on his knees—working over Stiles’ cock like a fucking pornstar. And the best part was that even in the moment of sucking dick, Derek always had the most beautiful little scowl creased in his thick eyebrows, which never failed to get Stiles off.
But much to Stiles’ dismay, he could feel his connection to his dream start to fade. He tried to stay focused, but the visual of Derek on his knees blurred and the heavy nightclub music became increasingly muted. As Stiles started to toss around in his bed and rouse awake from his deep sleep, he could still feel that warm wet heat of Derek’s mouth around his aching cock. He could feel his cock throbbing, he could feel his balls aching for release, and he could hear incredibly audible lewd noises of slurps and muffled gags.
Stiles’ eyes fluttered open, but then everything became all too real. He looked down from where he was laying on his back to see that his sheets had been tossed off of his body—draping carelessly off the side of the mattress. He rubbed at his eyes in disbelief, staring down through sleep-blurred vision to see that his erect cock had been pulled through the opening of his boxers and that Derek’s youngest double was half-naked, mouthing enthusiastically at his girth.
“Wh—what are you doing?” Stiles questioned shakily, overcome with an inescapable feeling of arousal.
Beta Derek didn’t respond with words. Instead, he swallowed down more of Stiles’ length—taking him all the way down his throat to the base so that his nose was pressed firmly into the soft hair that surrounded Stiles’ dick. Stiles groaned out in confused pleasure, clearly lost for words. He hesitantly reached down with one of his hands with the intention of pushing Beta Derek away, but instead found himself carding his long fingers through the messy bed head of his husband’s younger copy.
Stiles eventually found himself guiding Beta Derek’s speed and how much cock got stuffed down his throat. He kept both of his hands situated atop the boy’s head, staring down in sheer awe at how talented Derek was even in his youth. Stiles analyzed all of the facial expressions that Beta Derek made whilst he sucked cock. He found the familiarity in Beta Derek’s creased eyebrows, the sparkle of his emerald eyes, and the little throaty grunts all too arousing. It wasn’t long before Stiles was pushing back against Beta Derek’s face and spurting his load across the stubble-less face and flushed lips.
“Oh god—oh my fucking god.” Stiles groaned breathlessly, wiping his hands anxiously down his sweaty face. “I can’t—I just—I can’t believe you just came in here and did that. I can’t believe I just cheated on my husband with a younger version of my husband. Does that even qualify as cheating? And why the hell are you so fucking good at sucking cock already?”
Beta Derek laughed, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Are you always this talkative after getting your dick sucked?” He questioned, lapping up whatever remnants of Stiles’ load on his face he could reach with his tongue. “I hope I get used to that in the future.”
“Okay, but what are you? Some kind of naturally talented cocksucker?” Stiles asked. “I didn’t even suck my first dick until I was twenty-one. You’re eighteen and just did that.”
“I sneak into clubs sometimes.” Beta Derek explained. “Some of the guys like to fool around in-between the parked cars outside after the club kicks everybody out.
Beta Derek hopped off the bed and exited the room, shutting the bedroom door behind himself. Stiles took a moment to comprehend what had just happened. He couldn’t get the image of Beta Derek with a mouthful of his cock—cheeks bulged out and throat strained in effort—out of his head. He didn’t know how he was going to explain what had happened to his own Derek, but he couldn’t dwell on it too much. So he tucked his spent cock back into his boxers and hopped in the shower to cool down.
After Stiles finished showering, he got dressed and went out to the living room to find Omega Derek looking through the bookshelves that lined the fireplace. Beta Derek was nowhere to be seen, which was somewhat odd. But Stiles didn’t necessarily mind on account of the fact that he was secretly trying to avoid him out of awkwardness. He still had to wrap his mind around what had happened and the last thing that he wanted to do was look Beta Derek in the face and flashback to what he had looked like with a fresh load painted across his face.
“Hey, you probably shouldn’t look through those books.” Stiles said, calling over to Omega Derek. “You’re technically from the past, which means all the futuristic new books and sequels of your old books might be up there. I wouldn’t want you to spoil yourself.”
Omega Derek spun around. “You fucked the younger version of your husband?” He interrogated unapologetically. “I’m not surprised. The Stiles from where I come from is all jittery and wild and clearly interested in experimenting with men. I smelled arousal wafting off of you that time I caught you and Scott poking around my property.”
Stiles scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “I didn’t fuck him—he woke me up with a blowjob. I didn’t initiate anything. I just went along with it.”
“And you didn’t enjoy it?”
“I—I tolerated it.”
Derek raised one of his eyebrows inquisitively. “Tolerated it? You woke me up with all of your whiny moans and all your ‘oh my gods’.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot this version of my husband is all prudish and angry twenty-four seven.” Stiles mocked, gesturing up and down Omega Derek’s body. “But I’d drop the act if I were you, ‘Not-Husband’. The younger version of you just sucked my dick and told me how you used to fuck around with random dudes in parking lots. I wonder what whiny moans and ‘oh my gods’ I could pull out of you right now.”
Stiles stifled his laughter, spinning around to walk towards his study with all of his witchy tools. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge Omega Derek’s antagonistic attitude, nor did he bother to glance back to observe the way that his words that made Omega Derek’s face momentarily blush red with embarrassed lustfulness. There was no real point in arguing. The Derek that Stiles had ended up marrying had outgrown a good amount of his bad attitude.
For a few of hours, Stiles kept himself barricaded in the dimly lit cave of his magical study, carefully reworking through the spell that he had initially cast. He studied through all of the ingredients that he had used; making sure that he had used the correct amount. He checked the quality of the silver chalice that he had mixed the potion in to make sure that it was genuine silver. He even read through the fifteen minute long spoken incantation to make sure that he had said everything correctly. But nothing seemed to shed light onto what mistake had been made.
Eventually, Stiles appeared from his hour-long submerged nightmare of backtracking through one of his own spells. His mind was overworked and utterly fried, so he decided that fixing himself and the other Dereks some lunch would be a nice change of pace. As he walked into the kitchen, he noticed that Beta Derek was sitting at the dining table—fiddling around with Stiles’ phone as though it was magic. And to him—coming from 2005—it probably did seem like magic.
“Do phones seriously get this crazy in the future?” Beta Derek asked.
“Yeah—” Stiles droned, opening up the refrigerator. “—where’s your slightly older, way more grumpy buddy?”
“He went out to get some food.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles shouted, shutting the fridge closed. “What are people going to do if they accidentally bump into an obviously younger version of their alpha? Why didn’t you keep an eye out for him?”
Beta Derek set the phone down onto the table. “He’s twenty-four. I think he can handle walking down to the nearest fast food restaurant and ordering some lunch.”
Stiles deflated with a long drawn out sigh as he closed his eyes and spun back around to face the fridge, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the cold fridge exterior. He tried his best to collect his thoughts and steady his breathing, even going as far as to roll his shoulders to ease the tension in his muscles. Sometimes challenges were fun to figure out, but the ones that were seemingly impossible to overcome were the worst ones.
All of a sudden, Stiles felt arms sling around his waist from behind and soft lips press tightly against his upper back. Of course, it was Derek’s horny little past-self. Stiles knew that he shouldn’t have even bothered giving attention to the situation, but it felt unexpected and sensual. It also felt bad—riddled in taboo—but something about all of that made it that much more captivating. Still, the biggest question on Stiles’ mind was whether or not he had been that horny when he had been eighteen.
“Oh, come on.” Stiles groaned, feeling Beta Derek’s hands slide underneath his shirt. “We literally can’t do this again. I won’t—I can’t let you. I don’t know if it’s technically cheating or not, considering you’re actually the same person as my husband, yet not at all the same. But still, he’s gonna come home and smell you all over me.”
“He’ll just smell himself.” Beta Derek mumbled into Stiles’ back.
“You can’t just go around fucking other people’s husbands.” Stiles argued weakly, melting into the unfamiliar touch of a Derek Hale.
“You’re my husband.”
“Well then, let’s just consummate the inevitable right now instead of making me wait. We’ll do this now and skip it on our wedding night.” Beta Derek explained smoothly, undoing Stiles’ pants.
“If that’s a promise—spoiler alert—you don’t end up keeping it once we get back to the hotel after the wedding reception.”
Beta Derek laughed smugly. “I figured.”
Stiles’ body shivered the moment that he felt his pants and boxers get tugged down just enough so that ass was sticking out. Beta Derek did the same with his own pants so that he could pull out his own hardened cock. He spat down onto his fingers and then carefully pressed his slicked digits against where Stiles was puckered tight and dripping with unmistakable heat. He then started to work two of his fingers into Stiles with generous rhythm, opening up his future husband enough so that he could push his cock in with ease.
It didn’t take long before Beta Derek pressed his dripping cock into Stiles’ hole with a soft grunt and started to move. Stiles cried out, white-knuckling onto the edges of the fridge with his hands as he felt Beta Derek thrust into him with uncalculated and untrained movements. The size, the girth, the heat—all of it felt familiar. But the amateurish rhythm was completely unknown. It was obvious that Beta Derek was inexperienced in the department of fucking into somebody else, which was surprising, because when Stiles had gotten topped by his Derek for the first time all those years ago, Derek was incredibly skilled.
“Go faster—oh fuck—right there, keep it like that, keep that angle—oh fuck yeah.” Stiles moaned out, breathlessly panting against where he was pressed forward into the fridge.
Eventually, Beta Derek got the hang of it. His rhythm steadied out for the most part, surprising Stiles with the occasional off-beat thrust or grind. Nonetheless, Stiles could actually feel himself lose track of time and slip under the feeling Derek’s younger form encased around him. It certainly felt different than what it felt like to get fucked by his Derek. The feeling of a less muscular body plastered against his back—holding him tight and grinding into him—was a completely different, yet enjoyable sensation. Stiles could also feel a bit of the beta werewolf’s superhuman strength accidentally leak into the occasional thrust. It didn’t hurt, but it snapped Stiles’ mind back to what he was actually doing—and he liked it.
The sound of Beta Derek’s body hammering into Stiles’ receptive backside, the collective swears and moans from the two pleasure-seekers, and the sound of the fridge rattling around with the rhythmic thrusts was practically deafening. It was so loud that Stiles was almost certain his nosey neighbors would assume he brought over a random hook up to cheat on his husband with. And despite the fact that Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure if fucking another version of his Derek qualified as cheating, he stuffed all of those thoughts to the back of his mind and stayed lost in the sound of bliss—not even allowing himself to notice that his husband’s broody counterpart had already made it back to the house from him fast food run.
Omega Derek watched from the second entrance of the kitchen, away from Stiles and Beta Derek’s sightlines. He felt his mouth run dry and his face flush red with heat. He tried his best to shake his intrigue, especially considering the fact that he still found Stiles undeniably aggravating. But damn—that mouthy little ball of nonstop bullshit sure knew how to take a dick. And from where he was standing, he could see Stiles’ big cock swing and bat unapologetically into the front of the fridge each time that he was thrust into. It was hot, Stiles was huge, and Omega Derek felt his own asshole clench at the thought that he might ride it one day.
Quickly, Omega Derek took out his phone and hit record—watching as his phone picked up the visual of an older version of the Stiles he knew from his time getting himself fucked. He zoomed in making sure to capture a close up shot of where Beta Derek’s cock stuffed rapidly into Stiles and then focused over to where Stiles’ fat cock swung around to the sensual cadence of the young beta werewolf’s hips. Whatever happened, whether or not Stiles would be able to send him back to his correct time, at least he would have a video of something worth fantasizing about whilst he jerked off.
“Fuck—I’m gonna cum.” Beta Derek whined, reverting back to a lack of anticipatory rhythm.
“Shoot inside.” Stiles breathed, staring down to where his own hard cock bounced around. “I’m gonna cum too. Don’t pull out. Fuck it inside me. Oh fuck, Derek.”
Beta Derek’s hips stuttered and he groaned out, pressing his sweaty forehead into Stiles’ back as he shot his load into his future husband’s tight hole. He let his hands glide upward and clasp tightly over where Stiles’ hands remained gripped at the edges of the fridge—amplifying the sensual nature of what he had to give Stiles. He threw forward a handful of weak aborted thrusts, acting on his instinctual nature to make sure that his load soaked deep into Stiles.
Stiles slowly grinded back into where his ass was still clenched hard around Beta Derek. He kept his eyes locked down to where he watched his orgasm get ripped out of him. His cock throbbed and spewed thick surges of cum out to splat heavily against the stainless steel of the fridge. His body was wracked with shivers as he started to come down from his orgasmic high. He was lost for words and couldn’t muster up enough energy to actually speak, so he just watched the way that his load leaked down the fridge in thick rivulets.
As Omega Derek stopped his voyeuristic recording, the younger version of Derek slowly pulled out of Stiles, watching with smug satisfaction at the way that his load poured out of Stiles’ reddened hole—making a mess of the backside of the man’s hairy thighs. He couldn’t help but feel accomplished and proud. After all, he had fucked a man about twice his age and managed to rip a fantastic orgasm out of him with relative ease. It would be something to remember for a lifetime.
“I’m going to hell.” Stiles confirmed, pulling up his boxers and pants. He could feel his cock already start to thicken again—rearing for another round. But he couldn’t. He had to put his focus back onto the spell. “I’m going to fucking hell. I fucked up a spell, accidentally brought two younger versions of my husband to the present, and then proceeded to fuck the twinkish one—twice.”
Beta Derek laughed, buckling up his own pants. “That was the first time I ever fucked somebody.”
“I thought you said you fucked tons of dudes in parking lots.” Stiles questioned, proceeding to clean up the mess that he left behind.
“I’ve sucked off tons of dudes and gotten fucked myself, but I’ve never topped anybody. You’re my first.”
Stiles dropped his face into the palm of his hand. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding—are you fucking with me? I’m the first person you’ve fucked up the ass? Oh, great! How does that work out? Are you saying that my own husband’s first time shoving his dick in somebody’s ass just happened to be my ass? But it happened just now in the future?”
“I guess.” Beta Derek shrugged.
Stiles sighed discontentedly. “Whatever—I’m going to take another damn shower.” He said, reaching back to feel the widening wet spot at the back of his pants. “I guess you horny little teenage werewolves have a lot of seed to spill. I’m gonna be dripping cum for a week.”
Stiles walked upstairs into the master bedroom, letting Beta Derek entertain himself back down in the front of the house. As he made his way to the master bathroom, he heard the sound of faint scratchy audio playing—like something playing from a phone—broadcasting out from the closed off confines of the bathroom. Struck with curiosity, Stiles slowly pushed open the bathroom door to find the broody version of Derek with his pants down around his ankles, naked ass sitting atop the closed toilet, with his erect cock in one hand and his phone being horizontally held in his other.
“I guess I should find it somewhat amusing that you never grow out of taking ‘private Derek time’ breaks in the bathroom.” Stiles snorted. “It’s even more amusing that you always forget to lock the door in your mad dash to get your hands all over your dick.”
Omega Derek was briefly startled by the sudden conversation emitting from the threshold of the bathroom door. He had been so invested in watching the video that he had filmed back in the kitchen that he hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to his enhanced senses enough to hear Stiles sneak up on him. He fumbled with his phone in an attempt to stop it from continuing to play, but accidentally dropped it down to the ground, where Stiles then snatched it up out of his own interest.
“You filmed us?” Stiles questioned. “I thought you were out getting yourself lunch. I guess you snuck back in and decided to get yourself something else, huh?”
Omega Derek jumped up from where he was sitting and lunged at Stiles. He grabbed Stiles by the front of the shirt and hurled him forward into the space of the bathroom, spinning him slightly around so that he could shove him backwards into the wall. Stiles was momentarily taken back—having forgotten the physicality of Derek’s intimidation techniques. All the while, Omega Derek flashed his eyes blue and pressed his face closer to Stiles’ with a faint snarl.
“If you tell anybody—” Omega Derek started, quickly interrupted by Stiles’ quick wittiness.
“You’ll what?” Stiles asked smugly. “You’re the one with the audacity to record somebody getting fucked and then hideaway in that same person’s bathroom while you jerk yourself off to your dirty little video.”
Stiles chuckled at the sight of a man who had just had the rug pulled right out from under him. It was all too familiar. After all, Stiles had lived through a lot of Derek’s weak attempts to intimidate his way through troubled times. It had never really worked out in his favor, but it was still cute and somewhat enjoyable to watch a more clueless version of Derek try so hard to seem menacing. All whilst trying to seem serious, despite the fact that his cock was still out and protruding powerfully into the front of Stiles’ crotch.
“Yeah, you’re forgetting that I have years of practice with your particular brand of attitude.” Stiles revealed. “There’s basically nothing that you can do to actually surprise me. I’ve lived through all of your moves.”
Swiftly, Omega Derek lurched forward and took Stiles’ mouth in a ravishing kiss, completely throwing Stiles for a loop. No—nope, that was something new. Derek hadn’t tried persuading him with that kind of technique back in the day. Back in twenty-eleven, Stiles vividly remembered still playing around with the whole, ‘I hate you, you hate me’ chemistry. But nonetheless, Stiles refused to be the one to back down. So he fought back with his own lips, fighting passionately to dominate the heated kiss.
Stiles shut the bathroom door for a little privacy, refusing to pause his kiss with Omega Derek. The two of them continued to kiss and fumble messily around the limited space of the tight bathroom—bumping into the marble of the vanity’s countertop and into the thick glass of the shower door—all whilst tearing off one another’s clothes as quickly as they could possibly manage. It was like the two of them were engulfed in a fire of lust, burning bright and hot and refusing to cool.
Somehow in the mess of things, the two men found themselves in the shower—completely naked—under the intense spray of the hot water. They continued to kiss and suck at each other’s wet skin, desperately pulling and pawing at each other like starved lovers. Stiles swallowed down all of the deep whines and beautiful noises that escaped Omega Derek’s sweet lips. At the same time, their bodies crashed lewdly against one another—both of them grinding their strained erections together.
For Stiles, he had always wondered what it would have been like to fuck Derek back during the time in which they had first became acquainted with each other. The idea has been hot. Total strangers who were slightly antagonistic towards one another, finding time to swirl down into raunchy sex—dark and rough—in-between trying to figure out how to take down Peter, sometimes letting it happen in Stiles’ own childhood bedroom, other times letting it happens out on the cold dirt ground of the Beacon Hills Preserve. The fantasy had been taboo and so arousing that Stiles had practically jerked off every night to the thought of it happening for the first couple years of getting to know Derek.
And now it was happening—in an odd, magically-manipulated, futuristic kind of way.
Omega Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulders and attempted to spin him around so that he could bend Stiles over and push into where he was already wet from getting fucked by the youngest Derek. But Stiles had other plans. It wasn’t that his ass was tired. It was that he wanted to take Omega Derek down. He wanted to feel Derek come undone in his grip, under his thrusts, under his power, and in his control. And he could feel Omega Derek’s eager energy literally radiate off of him in intoxicating doses.
“Nice try.” Stiles said, pushing away Omega Derek’s arms. He then grabbed onto the broody werewolf and quickly maneuvered him around and up against the back wall of the shower—coming up quickly behind him and pressing their naked bodies together. “I think I’m gonna fuck all that tension and grumpiness out of you.”
As Stiles pressed the tip of his weighted cock against the omega werewolf’s hole, Omega Derek braced himself and screamed out in pleasure the moment Stiles decided to bottom out. Stiles wasted no time. He had already gotten an orgasm sucked out of him and another one fucked out of him by the horny little shit of his Derek’s past, but Stiles was aching with desire to cum at least one more time. This time, with his dick plunged deep into the living embodiment of broody glory, masqueraded by lean muscles, paler skin, and desperate submission.
Omega Derek couldn’t stop himself from spilling out loud moans that reverberated throughout the rest of the steamy bathroom. It had been such a long time since he had decided to actually have sex with somebody else. But seeing Stiles and his younger counterpart fuck like beasts in the middle of the kitchen had switched something on inside of himself. The sight alone of Stiles’ massive cock was enough to make Omega Derek’s knees buckle. But actually getting that cock shoved deep inside of his ass was an entirely different thing. He could feel it punch into his stomach and tap fire into his soul.
Stiles gripped onto the sides of Omega Derek’s tight waist. He watched with a smirk smeared across his face as his cock stretched open the omega and speared ruthlessly into his sturdy frame with demanding speed. There was also something beautiful and charmingly arousing about the way that Omega Derek’s tattooed back muscles rippled under the strain from the pounding. And watching the spray of fresh water trickle over Omega Derek’s body was just the icing on the erotic cake.
“I fuck you like this in the future too.” Stiles affirmed. “Oh, you get to top me too. All the time, actually. I usually prefer doing all of the riding and letting you bend me into all these crazy positions to fuck into me. But every once in a while, when you’re having a rough day or you’re all stressed out, you let me take you like this wherever I want. Sometimes we do it here in the shower, sometimes on the bed, sometimes on the kitchen counter, the couch, the hallway floor, sometimes even in the garage on top of my car’s front hood if we really want to get dirty.”
Omega Derek’s body tightened up and with a breathless ‘Stiles’ whimpered out into the steam-filled space of the shower, the werewolf’s orgasm hit him like a freight train—making his body momentarily seize up in delightful shock. At the same time, Stiles chuckled into Omega Derek’s neck, banging out his third orgasm of the day and flooding Omega Derek’s inner walls with a creamy load. Stiles didn’t know why his life was always filled with such strange thrills, but he was happy that life was never boring and always full of sex.
The two waited for a moment to let everything that had just happened absorb. Eventually, Stiles pulled his spent cock out and watched his wasted load leak down Omega Derek’s thighs under the water. The two of them then finished washing up whilst still coming down from their incredible highs, stepping out of the shower to dry one another off once it was time to get on with the rest of the day. As they readied to leave the bathroom, they reclaimed their clothes from where everything had been shamelessly tossed onto the bathroom floor just to make sure that everything looked normal.
Omega Derek emerged from the stream, plagued by a slightly less disgruntled mood. He felt more relaxed, but he was still annoyed that he was stuck in the wrong time period. The fact that he would eventually have to go back and deal with his version of Stiles wasn’t the happiest of thoughts. Although, he figured it would be somewhat interesting and just a bit crazed to jump back into his timeline with the memories of fucking a much older Stiles and having a special little video recording for some personal usage.
While Omega Derek slipped back into his same old clothes, Stiles tossed his own into the washing machine with a deep wash and heavy detergent. The jeans were still sopping wet with all of the cum that had leaked out of his ass after his kitchen fuck with the beta. There was a slight worry that Derek would come home and immediately pick up on the smell of something too revealing, but it was also tricky. Would he simply smell himself—his own cum that had just been produced by his younger doubles? Or would he be able to smell a difference?
When five o’clock rolled around, Derek got back home from work—all tired and stressed out from the rough day. He walked in through the front door but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, except the two younger versions of himself that were lounging around in the living room listening to his music collection that neither of them would be able to get their hands on in their correct time line. But whilst it would have counted as out of the ordinary for other people, Derek was married to the king of magical mayhem.
It was just another day.
Derek made his way over to Stiles’ study, cautiously opening the door as if making sure that no rogue spells were flying in his direction. Stiles popped up from where he was sitting at his desk, hunched over in concentrated silence. He looked a little disoriented and worried, but considering the fact that Stiles had been most likely working hard all day to find a resolution to the doppelganger crisis, Derek didn’t think much of it. It was understandable.
“Have you figured anything out yet?” Derek asked, stepping inside of the dim study.
Stiles rubbed tirelessly at his face. “I don’t really know. I think I might have found something after looking through some of my old spell books. There was something about using a bonding agent to set straight any sort of accidental clone trouble, or evil doppelganger creation, or time displaced doubles.”
“A bonding agent?”
“Yeah, not like glue or anything. Well, maybe metaphorically speaking.” Stiles explained. “I’m guessing you three have to bond. Play a board game. Go see a movie. Have a little therapy session and talk through your problems. It might work.”
Derek exhaled. “I need a damn drink.”
“Good—good, yeah. Get yourself a drink and relax.” Stiles encouraged, patting against Derek’s chest lovingly. “All the excitement today kept me too busy to actually cook anything for dinner, so I’m going to run to the store and pick up some cooked chicken roasts. I know that you, you, and you like that.”
Whilst Stiles rushed over to the nearest grocery store, Derek settled in the kitchen with a glass and a fresh bottle of wolfsbane wine—one of the only few werewolf friendly companies that produced alcohol capable of getting a werewolf drunk. He didn’t drink much, but when the circumstances were right, Derek needed something strong to take the edge off of the day. And having to co-exist with two younger versions of yourself definitely called for a couple glasses of wine.
Derek finished off one glass of wine—slouching down in one of the dining table chairs, with a good book in one hand. He let his body relax as his mind slipped into the realm of his book, disconnecting momentarily from the reality of his life. The Derek doubles were relatively quiet in the other room, which almost made Derek forget that there was an actual problem at hand. But he didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to drink and read and relax until Stiles brought back something good to eat for dinner.
But then Derek’s disconnection from reality was jolted back into place by the sound of the glass wine bottle getting pulled across the wooden dining table—out of his reach. Derek slightly jumped, looking up from his book to see Beta Derek sitting at the opposite side of the table, taking a large swig of the wine and slightly coughing at the burning taste. Derek huffed, setting his book aside to glare towards his younger self.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Derek growled. “You’re eighteen.”
Beta Derek took another large swig of the wine and set the bottle down. “Are you trying to father yourself right now?”
“I didn’t drink when I was eighteen.” Derek said, taking the bottle back into his possession. He poured himself another glass and quickly downed it.
“You did a lot of things you weren’t supposed to do when you were eighteen.” Beta Derek snickered, already feeling the strong effects of the intoxicating wolfsbane.
Beta Derek pushed away from the table and stood up, walking around to stand behind the forty-two year old. Before Derek could be bark out something authoritatively fatherly again, Beta Derek clasped his hands on Derek’s shoulders. Feeding in some of his werewolf strength, he started to rub and squeeze, working his best to ease out the tension that he knew Derek was probably harboring from the spell trouble and the day away at work. It was clear that Derek needed some relaxation, and whilst the wine was helping, a massage was just something more.
Derek thought about pushing his younger double away, but then decided against it for the simple fact that the neck rub felt nice. He relaxed once again—closing his eyes and allowing the wine to settle him down. He was already a little buzzed and his mind softly fluttered around with random thoughts. Eager for more stimulation, Derek rolled his shoulders into the capable hands of his eighteen year old self, not even beginning to think critically about how weird his life had become all those years ago when he stepped back into Beacon Hills.
Fishing for the bottle of wine to pour himself another glass, Derek reached out—nearly knocking the bottle off of the table. But his werewolf reflexes were still sharp enough to land a catch, rolling his eyes at the idea of even bothering with his glass. He brought the stem of the bottle up to his lips and took another gulp—letting the special alcohol dance its magic into his blood. But then he felt the feeling of a wet and warm mouth sucking and lightly nibbling at his earlobe, bringing his attention back to focus.
“What are you doing?” Derek asked.
“I know that I like my earlobes nibbled on—just a little bit—so I know that you do too.” Beta Derek said, nuzzling his face against the side of Derek’s upper neck. “That’s to say, unless you’ve outgrown your interest in that little pleasure with your years.”
“No, no—I just—you’re—we shouldn’t.” Derek grumbled softly, easing into Beta Derek’s touch.
Beta Derek continued to nibble at Derek’s ear, occasionally stopping to kiss at his neck, letting his hands wrap down from where they had been positioned at Derek’s shoulder, so that he could rub over the expanse of Derek’s lean chest muscles. With the alpha in his hands, Beta Derek whispered sweet promises and reassurances into his receptive ears, making sure to keep with the light biting and wet kisses.
Derek eventually set the practically empty bottle of wine down onto the table and used one of his hands to reach down to where he was beginning to ache with hardness so that he could stimulate himself. With his other hand, he reached upward just enough to that he could grab Beta Derek by the back of the neck, using his grip as leverage to pull the younger boy downward. It halted the kisses on his neck, but in the moment, Derek wanted nothing more than to take his younger self in for a kiss. So he did, letting the two of their mouths clash together in slow cadence—letting the fuzziness of his thoughts do away with any hesitance.
The two kissed passionately for a moment, letting their tongues swirl around together in an obscene display as they took advantage of the magical pandemonium. The two werewolves took great pleasure in the kissing contest that they had started—barely pulling apart to even catch their breaths. Their lips burned raw with redness from the unyielding stimulation and Derek’s thick beard scratched unapologetically against the fair skin of Beta Derek’s teenaged skin.
Eventually, Derek pulled away with a raspy groan. He clumsily unfastened his pants like he was some eager virgin about to have sex for the first time. Beta Derek watched with bated breath as Derek tugged his pants down to the mid section of his hairy thighs, letting his cock spring up into the air—flushed red with arousal and pulsing with anticipation. Flashing a drunken smirk up at his younger double, Derek pat down onto the meat of his own thighs, demanding that the beta take off his pants and straddle him.
Beta Derek stifled his brief laughter, kicking off his shoes and doing away with his pants and boxers. He straddled himself over Derek’s lap—letting the man’s erect cock burn hot against the delicate skin of his ass cheeks and lower back. He made sure not to actually take Derek inside of himself. He wanted to tease around just a bit, so he reached back with his hand and grabbed onto the alpha’s cock, giving it a couple rousing tugs. He let it dip just enough into the crevice of his ass so that Derek could feel the radiating heat, but didn’t the older man thrust in.
“I was never this much of a tease.” Derek slurred, taking Beta Derek’s lips in for another crushing kiss.
“Yes you were.” Beta Derek responded, wiggling his ass against the rigid heat of where Derek was aching for more.
The two continued kissing and refused to break apart until Beta Derek decided that it was time to actually start riding something. Beta Derek sat up just enough so that he could correctly level his hole with the tip of the older Derek’s cock. Slowly, he sunk downward—throwing his head back in awe as he felt himself get stretched open. It was confusing, yet an experience that Beta Derek knew that he wasn’t ever going to forget. Riding the cock of a much older version of yourself wasn’t something that everybody got to experience. But Beta Derek loved it.
Derek wrapped his hands around his younger double—holding him tight and close as he rapidly thrust his dick up into the beta. All the while, he mouthed heavily at whatever part of Beta Derek’s body that he could reach with his lips—sucking quick-to-disappear bruises into the fair skin, lapping and kissing at the boy’s collarbone, and rubbing his nose into the crook of Beta Derek’s neck. He was practically scenting himself, but it didn’t matter. Derek was too lost in the feeling of his cock being swallowed up into the tightness of his younger self.
“Fuck—you’re so tight.” Derek growled.
Beta Derek could barely keep himself situated upright atop the crazed rhythm of Derek from below. His body jostled around wildly and all he could do was try his best to hang onto Derek’s sturdy shoulders. Meanwhile, the feeling of Derek’s cock pounding into him with reckless drunken abandon kept ripping load moans from his throat—filling the kitchen with a slew of pornographic sounds and mindless, slurred pleas for more stimulation. Derek, of course, obliged.
Derek continued to fuck into the beta werewolf, not even bothering to pay attention to how much werewolf strength he was exerting into the much smaller frame that remained seated lustfully in his lap. As he fucked, Derek kept his eyes closed and tried to mentally focus on all of the feelings that coursed through his body. But when he finally did open up his eyes, his gaze locked onto where the broodier version of himself was standing at the edge of the kitchen and stroking his own dripping cock. For a moment, Derek thought that perhaps it was time to end things, but he then found himself motioning over for Omega Derek to step closer.
Omega Derek stepped closer to where the original Derek and the younger double were plastered together. He watched with peaked interest at the way that the eighteen year old bounced rapidly atop Derek’s fat cock and groaned out like a bitch in heat. There was something arousing about how the older Derek had much tanner skin and the way that it contrasted deeply with the paleness of the younger beta’s skin. Additionally, watching the older Derek’s thick, nicely aged muscles wrap around the leaner, skinner frame of the beta was enough to make Omega Derek want to bust.
Not one bit of time was wasted. Derek didn’t even really know what he necessarily wanted to say or do. His mind was still half hazed with the wolfsbane wine, so he decided to just let his own body lead the way. And as Omega Derek walked up to stand beside him, Derek eagerly took the broody double’s cock into his mouth, whilst refusing to let up on the brutal assault that he continued to deliver into his teenaged self. Never once in his life did he ever think he’d be sandwiched between two other versions of himself.
Derek had never been flexible enough to suck his own cock, despite the fact that Stiles had been able to suck himself off after some stretching. But as Derek took Omega Derek deeper into his throat, he made sure to focus on burning the moment to his memory whilst delivering as much pleasure as he could possibly manage. He was quite skilled with giving other people head, and if there was a person other than Stiles that he wanted to impress with his wicked cocksucking skills—it was a time-displaced double of himself.
Omega Derek clasped his hands at the sides of Derek’s head, commanding control over the moment. He stuffed more of his cock into Derek’s throat, drinking in all of the wonderful hums and choked off gags. As he looked down to where Derek’s lips were wrapped around his girth, Omega Derek couldn’t help but feel as though it was a genuinely perfect fit. Would he ever be able to feel this away again? Would his own cock ever throb as hard as it was inside the mouth of his older double?
It was quite the sight to behold. Omega Derek analyzed the face of his much older counterpart while he continued to fuck into his mouth. There was something so hot about the age difference. The graying hair at the sides of the alpha’s head and the abundant strands of gray that also streaked beautifully through Derek’s beard made Omega Derek’s knees buckle. Not only that, but the age-lines that creased peacefully on Derek’s forehead and at the corners of his eyes also made for an image worth a lifetime of lusting over.
“Woah.” Stiles interrupted, dropping his grocery bags down to the floor of the kitchen entrance from where he had just entered. “You’re actually—fucking yourself?”
Stiles was immediately overloaded the sights and sounds of the scene that played out before him like the dirtiest porno on the face on the Earth. He watched the teenaged Derek wildly bounce around in his husband’s lap like he couldn’t stop himself. All the while, the sight of his own husband getting himself brutally skullfucked by an omega’d broody double had Stiles practically drooling down onto the floor of the kitchen. When he had told Derek about finding a bonding practice to engage in with the two doubles, fucking them isn’t what he had had in mind. But Stiles wasn’t one to complain about something so hot.
Derek pulled his mouth away from the omega’s cock with a lewd pop—licking his lips free of saliva and pre-cum. At the same time, he stopped thrusting up into his beta double as he stared amorously across the room at where his husband stood frozen at the entrance of the kitchen. It was a shocking sight to walk up into, Derek understood that, but he didn’t care. He just wanted more. He wanted Stiles to join in with the undeniably taboo threesome. But whatever happened under the Stilinski-Hale roof, wouldn’t dare seep out into the rest of the neighborhood. Nobody would ever know except those involved.
Beta Derek hopped off from where he had been seated in Derek’s lap. Without even waiting for further instruction, he took the initiative and pulled Derek up to stand from where he was sitting in the chair. Quickly, he knocked the book, the wine glass, and the empty wine bottle onto the floor—letting it crash down to the floor below. Still, without letting either Stiles or Derek object, Beta Derek took his older double and bent him over the surface of the table—landing a burning slap across the tanned skin of Derek’s ass.
Omega Derek followed in suit, walking over to grab onto Stiles’ shirt so that he could lead him to the opposite side of the kitchen table. Mimicking Beta Derek’s process, the omega bent Stiles over the surface of the table so that the happily married duo were both bent over directly across from one another, with their faces practically shoved against one another. Omega Derek then tugged down Stiles’ jeans and rubbed at the human’s wanting hole with two of his fingers.
“Are we doing this?” Omega Derek asked, looking over to the beta double.
“They want this.” Beta Derek responded, easing his attentive cock into the tightness of his older counterpart’s hungry hole.
It wasn’t long before the omega and the beta versions of Derek were slotted firmly into their respective and receptive bottoms—with the omega stuffed deep into Stiles and the beta equally as stuffed into the Derek of the future. Neither of the two bothered to hold back, considering how eager the two werewolves were to reach their own orgasms. And as a result, the pace was set to the most brutal and rapid degree—leaving Stiles and Derek with no choice but to hold onto each other’s hands as they both got their asses drilled into without even the slightest pause.
From where Stiles’ upper body was pressed firmly against the surface of the kitchen table, he could watch the teenaged version of Derek pound into his husband with the same inexperienced off-beat recklessness that he had performed with earlier in the day when Derek had still been at work. It didn’t matter though, by the look of sheer fucked out ecstasy on his husband’s face, it was more than obvious that the beta double was pressing all of the right buttons. Still, it was incredibly hot to watch the lanky build of the beta dominate the muscular brute of the current-timed Derek Hale.
Simultaneously, Derek watched from where he was bent over the table—occasionally wincing at the untrained rhythm of his teenaged self’s thrusts—staring at the broody version of himself plunge savagely into Stiles as if there was something to prove. And then Derek remembered that there had been something to prove. Derek watched that darkened mirrored version of himself from all those years ago, emotionally wrecked and filled to the brim with destructive bitterness and anger, channel all of his confused emotions into Stiles’ hole. And it was by far one of the hottest things Derek had ever had the pleasure to witness.
The kitchen table shook and creaked grievously under the combined weight of Stiles and Derek, in addition to the continued back and forth motion that the Derek doubles served forth. All the while, Stiles and Derek moaned out and lost their mind to the unbelievably feeling of pure rapture that engulfed them from all sides. Both of them cried out for more—for rougher thrusts, for deeper plunges, for anything that either of the two doubles had to give. And as the beta and omega counterparts delivered, Stiles and Derek refused to let go of each other hands, partly because they needed to brace onto something, but also because they knew that they were enjoying something so outlandish together.
Beta Derek was the first one to roar out in orgasmic delight as his uneasy rhythm faltered and his hips bashed harshly into the backside of his older self. He cried out, gripping his hands into the sides of Derek’s waist, whilst he felt his cock pulsate violently in a continued balanced session of thick cum-shooting spurts. He groaned out and fell downward to plaster himself onto the back of Derek, sucking sloppy post-orgasm kisses at the side of Derek’s reddened and sweaty face.
The sight and sound for the beta’s finishing howl was enough to topple Omega Derek off the edge. He thrust into Stiles as deep as he could and then halted his speed, taking advantage of the moment to grind deep into the human’s weakened hole. Stiles sobbed out, reaching his own orgasm at the same time as the omega, feeling the overwhelming flood of Omega Derek’s thick brew scald through his body and plaster his inner walls with cum.
Derek’s own orgasm crashed over him as a result of watching his husband’s face contort into something beautiful—caught between pleasure and unspeakable contentment. He howled out, clenching down around the dick that was still stuffed inside of his ass, whilst he felt the warm spread of his own cum spew out onto the table underneath where his body remained pressed against the surface. He squeezed harder onto Stiles’ hand; grinding back just a little bit onto Beta Derek’s spent cock.
Just as Stiles and Derek pushed themselves forward across the table enough so that they could take each other in a loving kiss, the two misplaced doubles slowly faded out of existence—leaving noticeable feelings of emptiness in Stiles and Derek’s asses. Much to the married couple’s pleasure, the foursome showdown had counted as a bonding agent and served as a remedy for Stiles’ mistake with the time reversal spell.
Although, with Omega Derek and Beta Derek stuffed back into their correct timelines, Stiles and Derek weren’t sold on calling the whole situation a mistake anymore—especially since the two of them had enjoyed it so much in the end.