Archive of Our Own ^beta

In a dark California storm, three people trudged to their shared residence with heavy bags. Peter led the way, carrying work troubles on his shoulders. Derek and Stiles followed, arguing in hushed voices.

Derek, last to cross the doorway into their sanctuary, was incredibly tired and frustrated—over the outside world and over talking to anyone but his loved ones.

He brutely dropped his damp grocery and work bags on the floor, enunciating his mood with a rude snarl. Peter's head whipped around, and he stared down the other with scarlet eyes and a curled lip, revealing a sharp tooth.

The quiet argument ended with Peter pinning Derek against the door and putting him into place, assuring that Peter had noticed Derek's attitude and disapproved of it. Meanwhile, Stiles abandoned his bags and collapsed on the floor to pull off his shoes, leaving the tension to the others.
Peter pulled Stiles to standing, but they needed to put the groceries away before anyone got distracted. Stiles giggled and stamped his tiny pink feet against the floor, then dragged his bag onto a padded stool nearby, and then his grocery bags up to the kitchen counter, intending to put everything away as necessary and go to the bedroom to settle himself.

He got distracted before putting the last bag up by sitting under the kitchen sink and playing with the cabinet, falling deep into regression in the span of a breath. Derek loudly growled and paced by the door and coat rack, unable to settle and angry at Peter's obvious disapproval. Peter snapped at him to put up Stiles' coat and shoes.

He growled back, picked up Stiles' stuff, and harshly threw one of the neon sneakers hard on the floor. Peter's head snapped over, and he growled, fangs entirely slipping out. Derek's lip curled, and he put his and Stiles' coats and shoes away.

Unasked, he stomped over to put his and Peter's bags away. Upon his return, his instincts led him straight to Peter. He slowed down just in time, realizing the challenging implications of his hasty actions.

But Peter just grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close, their bodies pressing against each other. One hand held Derek's neck while the other gripped his ass, pushing their bodies together and burying Derek's face into Peter's neck.

In a soothing tone, Peter whispered into Derek's hair, "Shhh, it's okay, baby. I know you need to relax. Just listen to me, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Derek murmured submissively against Peter's skin.

"That's my good boy."

Peter swiftly put their groceries away before hoarding them both into their bedroom. There, they took off their clothes and selected pajamas for themselves - for Peter, regular clothes and a diaper for Stiles, and a cock cage for Derek.

As he easily controlled his loves, Peter breathed deeply and enjoyed the sense of control and contentedness that filled him. He then swept Stiles onto his hip and led them into the bathroom, beckoning to Derek casually, "Come along, darling."

The three of them moved calmly through the house, completely naked save for their bare feet softly slapping against the floor. Their cocks and perky pecs bounced lightly with every step.

Derek paused before a massive window with an arched top and intricate stained glass detailing. He gazed out at the world beyond, absentmindedly stroking himself as he watched. His cock gleamed, its tip pink and constantly oozing, while his asshole was puffy, gaping, and pink as well.

He stepped closer to the glass and glanced over to the balcony. The rain had lessened, providing a clear view of the surrounding trees and houses. He knew anyone could see him - an unashamedly nude man pleasuring himself without a care in the world. As he touched his cock, he felt a slight burn as his thumb pushed against his pee hole, causing his ass muscles to clench involuntarily.

Peter had wandered out of the bathroom, wondering where his sub had gone. He laughed as he put his arm around Derek's chest, his forearm pushing into his neck as he pulled him backward.

They moved to the bathroom, where Stiles had been entertaining himself with a yellow rubber duck while sitting on a fluffy bath mat before the massive rain shower. The warm, humid air had dampened everything as the shower had been turned on to heat the room.

Peter picked up Stiles, and all three entered the shower. Derek had hurriedly picked out a soap for all of them, humming while gazing at their collection. Peter held Stiles against his chest as they stepped into the warm spray. Stiles squealed and threw his yellow duck at the wall.

Derek came closer to them, to the water -" Go get the baby's duck, why don't you, dear"- and deposited his soap choice on a ledge. Peter and Derek manhandled Stiles through the water spray, soaking him thoroughly.

He was then set on the warm, wet floor where he had babbled happily, slowly tiring. Peter's eyes were cold, and his cock was solid as he commanded, "Wash me."

Derek's eyes held love as he lathered up his hands. Facing Peter, Derek's hair got soaked from the water stream and got in his eyes and mouth. But he didn't care as long as he could worship Peter.

With adoration, Derek drug his hand over Peter's collarbones and shoulders. Peter's eyes glowed threateningly at his neck, but he wordlessly rocked his head back, giving Derek access. Delicately, Derek rubbed circles into Peter's chin, seemingly entranced by him.

Leaning forward, Derek pressed a featherlight kiss against Peter's Adam's apple. He continued to wash down his chest, thumbing nipples appreciatively. Then, he moved on to washing each of Peter's arms one at a time.

When he reached the hands, Derek took his time massaging in light circles on the masculine hands and manicured nails. And when he finished with a hand, he kissed each of Peter's knuckles in four individual kisses.

All the while, Peter watched with glowing, debaucherous eyes. Derek washed his dom's tight abdomen, sharp hip bones lovingly circled. He washed Peter's legs one at a time and, very efficiently, squatted at the floor in long streaks, entirely focused on the task.

When he got to Peter's foot, he glanced up sweetly, eyes glowing to match Peter's.

"Foot, please," he murmured.

"Of course, sweetheart," Peter replied.

After both legs and feet were done, Derek dragged his hands center towards Peter's cock. He brought his face forward, still squatted on the wet floor. Stiles babbled louder, Derek being so close and on his eye level.

Derek's eyes fluttered closed, and he shakily breathed in the scent of Peter's cock. He moaned and bowed his head with effort. When he brought his head up again, he was back on task and focused. He lathered up Peter's cock and massaged it smoothly, taking extra care to handle his love's balls. He softly massaged them, his heavy breathing and bumping hips indicating his arousal.

After one last happy sniff at Peter's crotch, Derek rose smoothly to meet Peter's face.

A soft smile played on Peter's lips as he noticed Derek's dilated pupils, unable to look up and meet his gaze. Instead, Derek gazed adoringly at Peter's sculpted cheekbones.

Derek gathered more soap between his hands and stepped delicately over Stiles to get at Peter's back. He teased at Stiles' toy with his toe but was met with an unamused expression from the baby, who had by then wrapped himself around Peter's calf.

Derek soothed his lathered hands over Peter's broad back, feeling the dips and curves of muscle. He breathed deeply, following the smooth spine with worshipful fingers, and massaged the small of his back with careful thumbs. Peter groaned and dipped his head back a bit. Derek watched, practically glowing with happiness and pride.

Once again, he dropped to a clean squat, balancing softly on solid toes. His broad hands dragged over Peter's ass, humming appreciatively. He lathered more and single-mindedly scrubbed down to his heels, ignoring an entranced Stiles, who watched all of Derek's moves with one fist being drooled over in his mouth.

He dipped back up to Peter's ass and delicately spread his cheeks. He washed with shaking fingers and, unable to stop himself, leaned forward to mouth Peter's asshole. His eyes fluttered closed as he gave a few gentle sucks, then pulled out and placed a gentle kiss smack-dab-center.
He stood, stepped over Stiles again, and gathered shampoo. He returned to the back of Peter's head and softly scrubbed his hair. Afterward, he guided Peter to rinse, did the same with their expensive conditioner, and stepped back to meet Peter's gaze.

"I'm done, Daddy," Derek said.

"Thank you, darling," Peter replied.

Not moving their positions, Peter leaned over and gathered soap. He efficiently, but no less expansively, washed Derek's body. He guided Derek's body, and a simple command to twirl left Derek facing away from him.

Peter hummed consideringly, taking some extra time to aggressively grope at Derek's ass. He took a handful of asscheek and aggressively found his hole. His thumbs on either side ripped open the pink flesh.

Facing the shower head, Derek's eyes rolled back into his skull.

Peter pushed in the tip of his hot cock teasingly and pulled back. He let go of Derek's ass, but not without landing a burning slap squarely on it.
He reached up to wash his sub's hair, lathering and lovingly massaging the strands. When finished, he manhandled Derek around to face him again, pulling harshly at a nipple while looking over Derek's body.

Derek stood in a perfect soldier's position and only relaxed when pulled by his nipple into the spray.

They both washed off all soap and glanced down to where Stiles had sat fully against Peter, his asshole flat against the top of his foot. His soft ass and legs were curled around as he babbled a game to the handheld duck.

Derek swung Stiles up and held him curled high against his chest, Stiles' feet trailing down near Derek's rock-hard cock. Peter smiled at Stiles, lathered his hands with their no-tear baby shampoo, and gently washed his hair.

Stiles whined and bucked, but Derek held him tight and softly shushed into his ear. Derek stepped into the water and got soaked, washing Stiles off. Then again, Peter lathered up and briefly washed Stiles' body, knowing any lingering would cause their slice of heaven to be split by an ear-shattering shriek.

Thumbing Stile's tiny baby feet, he rolled his toes, and Stiles giggled in response while Derek grinned with blue eyes over his soft shoulder. They quickly rinsed again and did a quick conditioner once-over. Water was turned off, and heads shook the water out of their hair. Stiles was set on his feet and shuffled out of the shower to sit on the bath mat.

Derek set off on the heated tiles to grab their towels. Peter wiped the shower quickly, reaching down to snag the duck from sleepy Stiles as he exited.
Stiles whined, mouth open, but was stopped by Peter picking him up under the armpits and curling into his chest, feet dangling near his cock. Peter put Stiles into his soft, hooded towel that Derek had waiting. After wrapping up Stiles, Peter gazed softly at Derek with scarlet eyes. Derek blushed and looked down.

"Thank you, darling," said Peter, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, to both Derek and Stiles' delight. Stiles smushed his face into Peter's chest and blindly found a nipple to softly suck on.

Peter handed Stiles to Derek after the alpha quickly wiped down his chest and arms with a towel. Peter grabbed the remaining towels and toweled himself off. He draped one low on his waist and set another at his hair.

He turned to look in the fogged-up mirror as he tussled his hair and caught sight of his boys watching with hooded lids.

The alpha dipped back into the shower and grabbed the soap to put away. He walked over, put the soap back with the others, and went to Derek's back with a towel, drying his back.

He caught Stile's eye over Derek's shoulder blade and smiled goofily, listening to Stile's giggle as he went over the broad shoulders. He ran both hands over Derek's neck, cupping his skull securely, and dried his hair, not bothering to keep the towel off Derek's face. Derek couldn't see, and he had no free hands.

Then Peter squatted down and sensually dried Derek's legs. Derek shivered as Peter roughly ran the towel on the inside of his legs and roughly pulled at his genitals. Peter reached up with a dry hand and slipped his hand around Derek's heavy balls, humming. Derek's eyes rolled into his head when Peter reached up to roughly stroke the pink cock, precum slowly pooling at the tip.

He suddenly withdrew and dragged his fingers up his crack, aggressively poking into his puffy hole without any care. He grabbed a cheek and roughly moved it around, growling quietly.

Then he was up, tall, tanned, shiny, and nude, smoothly picking up the towel that had slipped from his waist.

He ordered Derek to carefully place Stiles on the sink counter, carefully laying a folded towel underneath him. Derek held onto the wiggly and giggling baby with one broad hand, gazing at him with such tenderness. Stiles returned the gaze, his soft face breaking into a droopy smile.

Meanwhile, Peter stood at the toilet and pointed to his rock-hard cock. A single drop of precum slipped out before a stream of urine forcefully shot out. The tension in Peter's body seemed to dissipate with each release.

As it finally came to an end, he shook his still-hard member lightly before reaching up to catch the remaining drops in his palm. He released his huge cock, and it sprang towards his tight abdomen.

He turned to look at his boys and stepped forward to drag his hand between them and over Derek's toned lower stomach.

He pulled his hand down to Derek's hard cock and smacked it to the side carelessly. Derek moaned, Peter's piss claiming him wordlessly.

Peter reached at Stiles, reaching a hand through the wobbly limbs, soft towel, and gummy fingers to find Stile's tummy, and rubbed the same path from his belly button to his baby cock, tugging a bit at it and cooing.

He scooped up Stiles and laid him on the warm tiles, no longer damp from the draft that Derek had thoughtfully let into the room. Peter smiled down at his baby and reached a wondering hand backward, humming when Derek caught it and placed it in the bottle of baby powder and the diaper.

He pulled Stiles' legs apart and, unable to stop himself, shuffled forward and laid his stiff cock into Stiles' soft crotch. He cooed soothingly and smiled as he dragged his hips hard into Stiles, crushing the smooth skin.

He heard Derek moan as Stiles arched his back with a cry, and a bit of piss spurted out of the baby's cock, wetting both Peter and Stiles. Peter laughed, "Okay, okay, darling."

He put the diaper on Stiles and pulled him onto his hip. He directed Derek to the toilet. Derek stood soldier-still, hands clutching at his back as Peter grabbed his shaft and roughly pumped it. He pointed it towards the toilet. "Piss," he commanded.

Derek blushed but complied, feeling embarrassed and pleased by Peter's dominance. When the stream had stopped, Peter tightened his hold on Stiles and bent at the waist, catching the tip of Derek's cock in his warm mouth. Derek struggled and made breathing sounds, jerking with pleasure.

After a brief moment, Peter let go with a loud pop and stood upright with a flourish as Stiles shrieked joyfully. Peter hummed in amusement before turning to look at his flustered sub, wrapping his free arm around Derek's lower back.

"C'mere darling," he said softly. Derek slowly relaxed, falling into Peter's muscular chest. His full pecs cushioned Derek's head, and he closed his eyes against the warm skin warming his cheek.

Stiles reached for Derek's face, grabbing his nose and mouth playfully. Derek looked at him before snapping at his fingers in jest, catching one in his hot mouth and sucking hard as Stiles shrieked and wiggled in Peter's hold.

Peter simply looked down at them with shining red eyes filled with satisfaction.

They walked back to the bedroom; Peter ordered Derek to shut off all lights, Peter double-checked the locked door and set wards, and Stiles sleepily slobbered at his shoulder.

In the bedroom, Peter ordered Derek to dress Stiles. Peter dressed in his low-riding sweatpants and socks. Derek set Stiles on the changing table and slipped on the fluffy onesie, maneuvering Stiles' limbs as he pleased. The baby was practically asleep but still hummed appreciatively when Derek dropped a glittery pacifier in his mouth.

"That's good?" murmured Derek softly, pleased.

Peter appeared at his shoulder, looping his arms around Derek's torso. "Join the baby in the bed, darling."

"Yes, daddy."

Derek carefully placed Stiles in the middle of their vast bed; soft blankets and pillows cushioned his fall and lay back next to him. Derek stared at the ceiling, then down where Peter was puttering around near the dressers and changing table.

Derek turned his head to look at Stiles, studying his long eyelashes and the soft bobbing of the pacifier between his plush lips. He heard the door close but didn't look away from the baby until a hand dragging up the arch of his foot startled him.

Peter shushed him and continued climbing up on top of Derek. Peter knelt over Derek, sitting down at a straddle at his thighs.

He looked down at his boys- strong and intelligent and all his. They were angels on this earth- his angels.

Stiles murmured in his sleep, pink cheeks matching Derek's as he stared at Peter. Peter raised an eyebrow down at him, and Derek blushed more and averted his gaze down to Peter's hands, where the gold cock cage shone in the dim light from the moon and the warm lamp. Peter wordlessly began to put it on Derek, petting his hip soothingly when he jumped at the cold temperature.

"No pinching?"

"No, Daddy," Derek replied.

"Good," Peter said. "Let's go to sleep, hmm?"

Peter twisted over to scoop up Stiles, pure alpha strength. He knee-walked over Derek to place Stiles in the corner, nudging a soft stuffed white bear into his arms.

Then he turned back to Derek, eyes shining red. Derek leaped up to meet the awaiting hand and quickly allowed himself to be maneuvered into position.
The click of the lamp turning off was all that remained before Peter fell into place behind Derek. They were all tucked away in bed, which was further tucked into a corner, a fun canopy bed with translucent draped walls and opaque fabric folded over the top. The dip between the bed and wall was lined with custom-made pillows (only the best for Peter's boys).

Stiles was curled against the wall, pacifier was in mouth, and stuffed bear clutchted tight.

Derek was next, draped over Stiles protectively. Derek carefully held Stiles like his very own personal stuffed animal. He was the big spoon And the little one because Peter was draped over his back.

Peter was the only one visible outside the bed—protecting and encasing them in their most vulnerable time.

He slept shirtless, wearing low-riding oversized sweatpants and white ankle socks. His heart bore their initials, delicately tattooed near his hard nipples.
As the lovable family fell asleep peacefully, Peter remained hard throughout the night, even into his morning shower. He slept draped over Derek, who used his arm as a pillow while one hand grazed Stiles' skin.

Derek and Stiles' gentle snores filled the room, lulling Peter into a comfortable slumber. As the night progressed, the room filled with a soft, warm glow from the moonlight filtering through the canopy's translucent fabric.

Peter's body relaxed, his heartbeat synchronizing with his family's, creating a soothing rhythm spilling around the room.

As morning approached, Peter was the first to stir. He carefully extracted himself from Derek's embrace, taking care not to disturb the other two as he slipped out of bed. His body still hummed with lingering desire, but he knew it would have to wait another time.

The scene before him was one of pure love and contentment, three hearts beating as one in a cozy nest built for dreams and security. With a tender smile, Peter turned to leave the room, already planning ways to fortify their bond and protect this sanctuary they had created for themselves.

And so, as dawn broke through the horizon, the room returned to its peaceful silence once more - filled with warmth and tranquility only found within the walls of this unique little family.