"You need to learn to watch your language."
That was the last thing Stiles heard before the witch raised her hand at him and snapped her fingers, and then she was gone. Poof. Vanished into the night in a puff of glitter.
He sneezed. Fucking glitter, seriously. That shit should be classified as a weapon or something. "Well, that was fluffing anti-climactic."
The entire pack stopped as one and turned to stare at him.
"What did you just say?" Scott asked, eyes huge.
"What?" Stiles said. "I said it's fluffing anti-climactic...wait. What the fluff? Fluff? Fluff!"
"I can't believe you got cursed not to curse," Lydia said after they went to Deaton's. She was driving him home because the Jeep was acting up again, and she was the only one available.
He didn't know why they'd gone to Deaton's in the first place. The only thing the vet had been able to tell them was that the spell would "probably" fade in two or three weeks.
Stiles scrunched down in the passenger seat and scowled. "Shut the fluff up."
Lydia snorted. "No, I don't think I'm going to shut up. This is hilarious."
"You're such an Almond Joy," Stiles grumbled, and then facepalmed when Lydia cackled. "Oh my gobstoppers. Wait, gobstoppers? Seriously?"
Lydia was laughing so hard she had to pull over the car. "Gobstoppers. Gobstoppers," she gasped between laughs.
Stiles scrunched further into the passenger seat. "You're a terrible person and I hate you."
"Oh Stiles." Lydia patted his shoulder. "You'd be doing the same thing if it were one of us."
"Well, yes. Because it would be funny then."
Lydia tossed her hair over her shoulder and pulled back onto the road. "Oh, I assure you, it's funny now."
"Lies. You're going to miss my colorful language."
"Probably." Lydia shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I won't enjoy this in the meantime."
The problem with having all his curse words replaced by candy and dessert names, Stiles discovered, was that it was suddenly very difficult to be threatening.
"Listen," Scott said to the hunter they'd found sneaking around the Preserve, setting traps. "You need to tell us if you're working with anyone else. Our pack isn't the only thing protecting Beacon Hills."
"Yeah, and some of the others?" Stiles chimed in. "Aren't going to be so nice with you. In fact, I think 'nice' is about the opposite of what they'd do."
The hunter snarled and spat on the floor in front of them. "As if I'd ever help a monster like you."
Stiles bristled. "Hey, listen up, you monkey fudge crackle, if anyone's a fluffing monster around here, it's you."
Dead silence, as both the hunter and Scott stared at him.
"Did you just call me...a monkey fudge crackle?" the hunter asked incredulously.
Stiles replayed the conversation in his head and sighed. "Yes. Apparently I did."
The hunter blinked at him, like they couldn't quite figure out what to do with that information.
Scott squeezed his shoulder. "Why don't you go and get Allison? Ask her to bring the cattle prod."
"It's okay, bud. Besides, she's way scarier than you are regardless," Scott pointed out.
Stiles sighed again. He really couldn't argue with that logic.
It was also, Stiles discovered, very difficult to keep his father on the heart-healthy diet he was supposed to be on.
"I'm going out to get some pizza," Dad called up from downstairs. "You want anything?"
"No, doughnut!" Stiles shouted from his computer. “You’re not supposed to have pizza!”
"Oh, you want doughnuts instead?" Dad sounded positively gleeful. "That's great! I'll pick up a box on my way home."
Stiles jumped out of his chair and ran to the stairs. "No, Dad! No pizza! No doughnut! Get a fluffing salad!"
But Dad was walking away, waving one hand behind him. "I heard you the first time! You don't want pizza, but you want doughnuts. I'm not sure what a fluffing salad is, but I'll see if I can get you one. Bye, kiddo!"
"GOBSTOPPER DOUGHNUT, DAD!"
"Love you too!"
Stiles wanted to bash his head against the wall in frustration. This curse couldn’t end soon enough.
But perhaps the worst thing was that suddenly his vocabulary for sexytimes had been cut down to zero.
He was sprawled out on his bed, face down, with Derek's weight on top of him, fingers laced through Stiles's, the thickness of his cock sliding in and out of Stiles's ass and lighting him up from the inside. It was slow, achingly slow, and no matter how much Stiles whined and tried to thrust back, Derek would not go faster.
Stiles couldn't decide if he loved or hated it.
Derek's cock dragged right across his prostate, and Stiles nearly bit through the pillow. "Fluff."
He stiffened, waiting to see how Derek would react, but there wasn't even a stutter in his movement. Stiles relaxed, and then Derek hit him just right again, sending a wave of sparks over his body.
Stiles groaned. "Fff—fluff, Derek, fluff me harder, fluff—"
Hot breath ghosted across his ear.
Stiles froze. "Are you laughing at me?"
Derek kissed his neck. "No."
Stiles could feel his smile. "Don't fluffing lie to me, you brownie. Son of a biscuit! Butterbeer."
Derek pressed his forehead to the back of Stiles's neck, shoulders shaking hard enough that Stiles felt himself getting pushed further into the bed with each chuckle.
That was it. "Off. Off, off, off, fluff it. Gobstopper doughnut, I hate this curse."
Derek rolled off him, still laughing, the ass. Stiles wanted to stay mad, but Derek laughing was pretty much always a thing of beauty. Even if it was at his expense.
That didn't make Stiles much happier, though.
Derek rubbed a hand over his arm. "You okay?"
"Ugh." Stiles buried his face in the pillow. "I'm completely killing the mood. Stupid fluffing curse."
Derek snorted. "What, you're killing the mood because you can't swear?"
"Because when I swear it's candy terms, Derek!" Stiles pushed himself up from the pillow and flopped back down on his back. His dick was fading rapidly. "You can't tell me it's sexy to hear 'oh, gobstoppers' whenever you fluff me just right."
Derek smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and pulled Stiles's hand to his lips to brush a kiss across the knuckles. "I love you, Stiles. I think you are sexy, no matter what. Even if you're asking me to fluff you harder."
Stiles groaned. "You're such an amaretto. I love you too."
Derek smirked and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "Besides, I think you're giving curse words too much credit. There's a lot you can say that wouldn't count as swearing."
"Oh yeah, smart guy?"
"Mm-hmm." Derek leaned closer and kissed Stiles's forehead. "For example...'Derek' isn't a curse word. Neither is 'more,'" he kissed his way down Stiles's jaw to his neck, "or 'please.'"
Stiles whimpered. He couldn't help it, not with Derek nipping at his neck. "Derek."
"That's right." In one smooth motion, Derek swung a leg over Stiles, straddling him. "You know what else doesn't have any curse words? 'I'm going to ride you nice and slow, until you see stars.'"
Stiles was pretty sure his brain short-circuited right then. "Hng."
Derek grabbed the lube from the bedside table, where he'd set it after prepping Stiles earlier, and slicked up his fingers. Stiles could only watch, grabbing at Derek's thighs, as Derek reached behind him.
"I've got two fingers inside me right now," Derek said, his voice rough. "I'm going to open myself up so good for you. I love the way you fill me up."
"Yeah," Stiles said, and wow, his voice had gotten hoarse sometime in the last two minutes. "Open yourself up for me."
Derek leaned over and kissed him, deep and filthy, and Stiles made an entirely undignified noise in the back of his throat. "Three fingers now," he said, and sucked on Stiles's lower lip.
"Derek," Stiles whined. "You're killing me."
"No, I'm riding you," he corrected, and sat back on Stiles's dick.
Stiles moaned incoherently. He'd never be used to this, never be over the way Derek's ass clutched around him, tight and hot and better than anything he'd ever felt. He'd never be over the way Derek's mouth dropped open a little as he rolled his hips, getting himself seated, and finally shuddering all over when Stiles was fully inside him.
Derek began to rock back and forth, moving in the tiniest increments that nevertheless had him making the most beautiful goddamn noises. Stiles tried to thrust up, to speed up the pace, but Derek dropped one hand back onto his thigh and shook his head.
"I told you. I'm going to ride you nice and slow." Derek circled his hips, and the motion made Stiles sob. "If you want that to change, you can ask politely."
"Derek, please, please, please, Derek, please," Stiles babbled, skating his hands up and down Derek's thighs, unable to move much more than that with Derek pinning his legs down. "Please."
"Mmm." Derek was smirking again. It was unfair. "I kind of like it when you beg."
Stiles opened his mouth to call him a bastard—or a butterbeer, thanks, curse—but then Derek raised his ass up and started driving himself down on Stiles's cock, and. Well. Curses, words, language, everything else flew by the wayside in favor of how fucking good it felt to have Derek riding him, hard and fast and slick. The space between them smelled like sweat and sex, filled with the sound of skin sliding together and Derek's beautiful little pants and grunts.
He sat up suddenly, arching his back, and came with a shout all over Stiles's chest and abs, his ass clenching rhythmically around Stiles's dick as he did.
That was all it took to pull Stiles over the edge as well, coming hard enough that his vision sparkled with stars and the only word he knew was Derek's name.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Derek asked.
Stiles grunted and slapped him on the shoulder. They'd showered together and changed the sweaty, spunk-covered sheets, and were now cuddled up naked. His brain still hadn't come back online from having Derek drag it out through his dick.
Derek laughed and caught his hand, kissing his fingers.
"I still miss being able to tell you to fluff me," Stiles grumbled, trying to press himself closer to Derek.
"I know." Derek threaded their fingers together. "I do, too. But...it's not the end of the world. Besides, it's funny. It's fun. And I like that about us."
"Huh?" Stiles turned his head so he could actually look at Derek. "You...like it?"
Derek bit his lip, his pale eyes glinting beta blue in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. "Yeah. I haven't...sex hasn't really been fun for me, before. It felt good, but it wasn't...it wasn't fun. It wasn't funny. I couldn't laugh with them and keep going. I like that I can laugh with you."
Stiles's heart felt like it grew three sizes in his chest. "Jolly Rancher, I'm stupid over you."
"Oh my gobstopper, you're so dramatic," Derek said, eyes twinkling.
Stiles snarled and smacked his shoulder again. Derek laughed out loud, bright and beautiful, and Stiles leaned forward to kiss it from his lips.
(Even after the curse was broken, Stiles would still say "oh my gobstopper" just to make Derek laugh like that. It worked every time.)