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ruh--roh-raggy · 7 months

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To Be Human (Monster! William Afton x Fem! Reader Beauty and The Beast AU) - Part I

Hello hello! First and foremost I would like to wish a huge belated Happy Birthday to my dear friend @yellowbunnydreams this whole AU is dedicated to her 💜💜💜 If you like princesses and castles and ball gowns and Will being a giant fucking monster definitely give this a read, I think this story is going to be very fun! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: Mostly plot/set up, Will's kind of a dick, kidnapping I guess but not really, it's a Beauty and The Beast AU there's going to be some underlying themes of Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Not proofread, sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,849

Part II (TBA)

You squeezed your legs harder against your horse’s sides, promoting him to run as fast as he possibly could. Tears sting your eyes as you race through the forest, sharp branches snapping at your face, your haste not allowing you time to care about watching out for them. The heavy gallop against the damp, muddy earth, quickly turned into loud, clattering hooves that fell against the cobbled path that formed at the opening of the tree line. The dark castle twisted up into the black sky, its gnarled, jagged appearance not much different than the branches that tangled the perimeter of the clearing. Your body instinctively jolted as a loud clap of thunder rang out across the courtyard, a crack of lightning illuminating the night. You found a small spot of shelter to tie up your horse, pulling the hood of your cloak as far forward as an attempt to stop the rain from pelting you in the face. You were already soaked to the bone, your dress clung to your body, your hair fell in long stringy tendrils across your face. You hurried up to the large castle doors, having to throw your full weight against it in order to get it to move. The creak that came from the ancient hinges was nearly deafening as it echoed through the grand foyer inside. “Father!” You call into the pitch black room, barely being able to make out the shape of the grand white marble staircase that took up a large portion of the space. You hurried inside, pushing the door shut behind you with a strangled groan. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, being so careless left you with a major possibility of losing your life. Your father had been taken captive by the tyrannical monarch who resided in this palace. “Please, answer me! Where are you!” You continued to call.

At this point you didn't care about what could happen to you, you were more concerned about what had happened to him. You raced up the stairs, nearly slipping in the water that streamed off your body, leaving small puddles in your wake. You continued to call out for him as you ran through the halls, your voice echoing off the grand arched ceilings. You hear someone shout your name from deeper inside, your head snapping in the direction of a door you hadn’t noticed. You ripped it open to reveal a winding stone spiral staircase that seemed to lead up impossibly higher into the castle. The heavy wrought iron handle slammed against the wooden barrier, the loud bang echoing through the halls. You could hear thunderous footsteps hurrying in your direction, someone was coming. You hurried in the direction of your father's voice, your hands wrapping around the thick metal bars as you saw a cell with a single candle inside. He calls your name again, this time in a soft harsh whisper. “What are you going here? Leave before he finds you.” His eyes darted down the stairs. “My darling girl, I love you too much to have you resolved to a fate like this. Leave me, take care of yourself.”

“I'm not leaving here without you.” Your voice trembles as you speak.

“You have to, if he catches you I'm not sure either of us will survive.” He explains quickly. “Go.”

“So, this is your insolent little brat.” A voice growls from the darkness.

“Your Highness she came-”

“I don't believe I ordered you to speak, farmer!” The voice snarls. “I thought I was being generous, allowing you to pay off your debt for stealing from my prized garden. Now you're responsible for another trespasser.”

“I'm here to take his place.” You step in front of your father, blocking him from the Monarch's view.

“Absolutely not-”

“This is your last warning farmer, step out of line again and it'll be your head.” He snaps. “Now, as for you.” You could feel him sizing you up despite the fact you couldn't see him. “You want to take his place, hm?” Your eyes widened as he stepped into the dim light. You scramble back, his monstrously tall form too close to you. A white linen shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, thick, light brown fur streaked with grey flowed out of its deeply plunging neck. His fingers were tipped with sharp, black claws, fur matching his chest seeming to cover every exposed area of skin. Long ears swooped towards the back of his head, tied at the nape of his neck like a ponytail. The soft rounded muzzle of a rabbit was a stark contrast to the intimidating energy that rolled off of him in waves. Darkly lined silver eyes studied your much smaller form from his towering advantage. “Your father promised me servitude for the rest of his pitiful life just so I wouldn't take it away from him, is that something you're willing to give up?” His eyes narrowed, you swore you caught the faintest sight of sharp canines situated behind his squishy nose.

“If it means you'll let him go, then yes. I'd do anything.” You make your best attempt at sounding strong, you could see from the sneer that stretched across the creature's face that it wasn't working. He scans over your shaking form, your hands balled into tight fists at your side.

“You're free to go, farmer.” He quickly takes the heavy wrought iron keys from his very pocket and tossed them at you. You yelp at the sudden action, stepping to the side and letting them whizz past you and clatter to the floor. “It’ll be nice to have a new pet around for a change.” He spits before turning in his heels and disappearing into the darkness. The moment he was out of sight you scrambled for the keys, slotting them into the lock and ripping the door open. Your father crushes you in a hug, cradling your head against his chest as you break down into tears.

“I'm sorry, you got into this mess because of me and I am so sorry.” His voice cracks as he attempts to comfort you. “I'll bring others, we’ll get you out of here, you just need to buy yourself some time.”

“I'll be okay.” You sniff, wiping harshly at your eyes. “You just focus on getting out of here and back to town, but do not come back with the others.” You lower the volume of your voice, attempting to check around for the beast that lurked effortlessly amongst the shadows. “I will find a way to get myself out of here. It's too dangerous for anyone to come save me.”

“I'm not going to leave you here with that monster.”

“You don't have a choice.” Hearing you say this out loud, your father knew you were right. “If we disobey him, he would kill us both before we even had a chance to argue. Now come, I brought Etienne, he should have enough strength to get you to the next village from here.” You tried your best to remember the way you had come, winding up getting stuck at a few dead ends before finally stumbling into the massive foyer once more. You both looked around, the beast was nowhere in sight.

“Come, if we hurry we can get out before he-”

“Now, now.” Your blood ran ice cold at the sound of the voice. “You've both made it so far, I'd hate to have to take drastic measures.” Your breath caught in your throat as he dragged a long claw across your neck, pausing over your pulse. “Leave this place and never come back. If you do, I'll kill her and make sure you're not around long enough to tell about it.”

“Go.” You locked eyes with him, both of you understanding the severity of the situation in an instant. You stood deathly still as you watched your father slowly descend the stairs and slip out into the storm.

“Such a shame.” His claw leaves your throat, his hand harshly squishing your face. “You really are a pretty little thing. Now, you're going to be stuck here, withering away until you're nothing but an old crone.” He chuckles as he pushes your face away with his thumb. “Pathetic.”

“What are… what are you going to do to me?” You stutter.

“There's a lack of good company in this castle.” Your eyes trained straight ahead as you listened to him pad slowly behind you. “Your job is to sit there and to not get yourself into any more trouble.” He says sternly. “When I've determined whether or not you'll be of any use to me I’ll give you a more specific set of tasks.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I'll kill you.” Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought. You stared at the door, a million thoughts racing through your head. ‘Maybe if I ran I would be able to get enough of a head start to make it out.’ You jolted as a warm, soft hand wrapped around your wrist. “I wouldn't act on whatever idea is rattling around in that head of yours.” His lips pulled back into a snarl, now giving you a much clearer view of the sharp canines that filled his mouth. “The more you struggle and resist the harder this is going to be for you.”

“So you're just going to keep me as your prisoner until I die alone in that cell?” You spit at him.

“Oh, that all depends on you, my dear.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I hadn't caught your father stealing from my prized garden with his filthy hands neither of us would be in this mess, now would we?” He grabs you harshly by your shoulder, dragging you up the hallways behind him. “If you want to take the place of a thief you are to be treated like a thief. You can either behave and accept the consequences and make your time here much easier on yourself or you can scream and cry and carry on like I'm expecting you to do. But trust me sweetheart, I am not a very patient man, it would do you well to be in your best behavior if you want to continue to have any hope of ever getting out of here alive, do I make myself clear?” You're roughly shoved to a stop, your shivering form now standing in front of the same dimly lit prison cell that had previously held your father. You stumble slightly as he shoves you inside, the door slamming loudly behind you.

“I'll bring you a meal in the morning, until then I don't want to hear a sound out of you.” He gives you a warning look before slinking into the darkness. You stood in silence, the only sound came from your shaky breath bouncing off the walls. The slow squeak of the hinges closing on the door below signaled that you were left alone. You took a few steps backwards, your shoulders bumping into the wall before you slowly slid to a sitting position. A steady drip of water splattered against the floor overhead, the soft squeaking of the rats that poked around curiously just outside of your cell made your skin crawl. You were in a complete state of shock. Just this morning you were harvesting berries from the garden to make preserves for the market in town, now you weren't sure if you would ever see the light of day again. What felt like days had passed when in reality it had only been a couple of hours. You huddled into the back corner of your cell as you heard the door open once more. You perked up at the sound of two voices you didn't recognize bickering from the stairwell below.

“I cannot believe he would do something so… so… revolting! To lock anyone away up in this old tower, especially a lady-”

“Sunny, you're acting like His Royal Highness is some sort of lap dog. Just be happy she’s still alive. The last time someone stole from his garden it didn't end up nearly as pretty.” Two tall figures stepped into view, the hallway too bright for you to make out any defining features. “oh, look at her, the poor thing is terrified.” The female voice of the pair coos.

“Honestly,” her male counterpart snaps, “for a king he has absolutely no manners!” A heavy key is slotted into the lock, the door quickly opened as one of the figures steps inside. Long white sleeves billow down his stick thin arms, a red velvet vest embroidered in gold thread molded perfectly to his torso, a pair of striped pants in matching colors ballooned at his ankle. Golden points whirred around your saviors face, a permanent smile carved into the features of what you were assuming was a mask. “My dear girl, are you alright?” He cautiously offers his hand to you, not wanting to startle you by moving too quickly.

“Who-” your brow furrowed as the second figure stepped into the light. You're met with the sight of a long snout tipped with a shiny black nose, her long, multi-colored hair tied into a long braid down the middle of her back. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sundrop,” the jester smiles warmly at you. “And this is Roxanne.” He motions to the wolf behind him. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, what might your name be? Our lovely little captive.” He helps you to your feet, Roxanne keeping her distance from you as you mumble out your name in response to Sundrop’s question.

“You do know you're going to get in a lot of trouble if you take her out of here, His Majesty is not going to be pleased.” Roxanne shoots Sundrop a warning expression.

“And when did you become so uptight? You're really going to let her freeze up here just because he's having a bad night?” He argued with her.

She sighs, shaking her head in response. “No, no that wouldn't be right.” She picks up the candle, holding it out in front of her to light your path. “Let’s bring her to Moon, he’ll have a better chance of keeping her hidden until you can figure out a plan to explain yourself.” You found yourself tucked safely in between the two of them, both of them surveying every darkened hallway and slightly ajar door as they led you through the empty castle halls. You eventually came to a stop in front of a wooden door that looks no different than the other hundred you had already passed. Roxanne reaches out, softly tapping against the barrier with one of her claws. There was a loud crash, followed by some muffled cursing as whoever was inside made their way over.

“Roxanne, I thought I specifically told Sun-”

“I know you're busy, but this is urgent. Your brother,” she shoots an accusatory look towards Sundrop, “has decided to get himself directly involved in the King’s affairs.” There was a tense silence as Sundrop stared back at whoever was on the other side of the door, still blocked from your view.

“You can't be serious.” The voice sighs before letting out a small sound of distress. “What was it this time? Knocked over one of the busts in the hall? Trying to get back at him for calling you unfunny-”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know-”

“Gentlemen!” Roxanne cuts off the argument before it has much of a chance to get started. “You can fight later, it's only a matter of time before he figures out that she's left her cell.” The hidden figure clambered into the hall, paling when he saw you standing alongside the others.

“You took one of his prisoners?” He whispers harshly in Sundrop’s face.

“I am not just going to leave a poor young woman up there to freeze to death. I will do whatever the King asks of me but I will not let him torment an innocent bystander.” He instantly rebuttals. “He’ll come around, I just need to warm him up to the idea.”

“Or he'll dismantle you the moment he gets his paws on you.” His brother scoffs.

“Moon, you know as well as I do, what that man needs is a companion. He's spent so long locked up in this god forsaken castle for so long that all he has left is us.” Moondrop’s gaze drifts over to you, his expression softening as he studies your terrified features.

“You are to go smooth this over at once. I'll keep her here with me in the meantime.” Sundrop thanks his brother excitedly, Moon pressing a comforting hand in between your shoulders as he guides you through the door. “Make sure he understands that this was your doing and not hers.” Moon warns before hurrying you inside, leaving your fate entirely in the hands of these three strangers you had just met.

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll (if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

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karatekels · 3 months

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Party Favours

This fic is a belated birthday request for @cortmac1989 (sorry for the wait!) who wanted our favourite silver fox to sweep her off her feet on her birthday. Happy belated, and I hope you enjoy!

TW: oral sex (male and female receiving); bondage; graphic sex; foodplay; teasing; overstimulation

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Party Favours

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Terry’s POV:

“I told you I didn’t like to make a big deal about my birthday, Terry!” you pout at him in his office after the day’s lesson had concluded, your arms crossed over your chest. “That’s why I never told you when it was!”

It was adorable, really, how you thought you could keep things from him. Even if he didn’t have access to your personal information from your registration at the dojo, it would be all too easy for him to learn anything and everything he wanted to know about you. And he had, months ago, before you’d started dating.

“Did I make it a big deal?” he counters, staring down at your growing frustration with amusement. All he’d done initially was announce to the class that the rest of the week’s sessions with him were being cancelled; it wasn’t his fault that Williams had asked why. And even then, he’d only said that he would be celebrating your birthday with you for the next few days.

He hadn’t even gone into any specifics, such as the fact that you’ll ideally be too boneless to leave the bedroom by the time he’s done celebrating you tonight. And he wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices in such a state just to do something as menial as teach a class.

“They’re going to talk about it, Terry; they always talk whenever our relationship is brought up!”

“Who’s talking?” he demands, more than willing to dismiss anyone that was causing you distress. You immediately move to deescalate, reaching out to stroke his arm soothingly.

“They aren’t saying anything wrong, love. I can’t blame them for gossiping; we’re quite the bundle of taboos between the teacher-student dynamic and our age difference… plus, from what I’ve heard, none of them have seen you in love before.”

“That’s because I hadn’t been in love before,” he says in a fierce whisper, pulling you firmly against him. You tilt your head up to give him a shy smile.

“I’m not uncomfortable with them knowing about us or anything, but I don’t want them thinking you’re giving me any sort of special treatment.”

“Firmer discipline, then?” he teases, tightening his hold on you. You start to giggle nervously before biting your lip, clearly becoming concerned that he wasn’t joking. And while there is a deliciousness to the thought of claiming you as his in front of your peers, he is far too possessive to let anyone else see you in a sexual manner.

“Only if you really think I deserve it, Sensei,” you reply huskily, batting your eyelashes up at him, and he can’t contain the deep growl emanating from the back of his throat. Bowing his head, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, taking care to explore every corner of your mouth with his tongue.

“Fortunately for you, the Birthday Girl can do no wrong today,” he purrs once he’s let you up for air, cradling your face reverently in his hands. You always felt so delicate like this, no matter how strong he knew you were…

“No?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him coyly. “I have immunity today, huh? I wonder what I should do with it…”

The devious smirk you give him has his cock twitching against his thigh.

“I know we have a rule about not fooling around in the dojo, Sensei, but I was hoping we could make a deal,” you trail off, your fingers toying with his obi. “No big birthday plans for me, and in exchange I’ll give you something I know you’ve wanted for awhile.”

He tries to appear unaffected, but he can’t help the way his grip tightens on your chin at the implications. Christ, he’s wanted to have you in his office for the better part of a year now, but you’d always firmly drawn a line in the sand. He usually agreed with the logic… when he wasn’t tempted, as he is now.

“Y/N…” he murmurs your name in a strained voice. “I want to spoil you, the way you deserve…”

“You still can,” you reassure him with a casual shrug. “As long as it’s just the two of us. Besides, don’t you want me all to yourself?”

He hesitates, mentally calculating the work he’ll have to do to cancel the more elaborate of his public plans for you. He does want to give you everything he feels you deserve, but perhaps more time was needed for you to warm you up to the limelight.

“You’re all I want, Terry Silver. Aren’t you going to give me what I want on my birthday?” you pout, gazing up at him with the most innocent eyes you can muster.

You’re really turning into a fucking brat.

It only gets him harder.

“As you wish, my dear. Are there any other demands, Your Majesty?” he says earnestly. He’ll encourage you asking him for things at every opportunity; all he wants is for you to depend on him, so that he can show just how reliable he can be.

“Just try to treat me like you do every other student when we’re here, okay?” you ask, untying the obi nimbly, your eyes locked with his. “After what’s about to happen, that is,” you add with a flirty smile, pushing him by the hips to lean up against his desk. God, what you do to him…

“I’ll do you no more favours in this dojo,” he promises with a growl as you lower yourself to your knees before him. Tangling his fingers in your hair, he mentally braces himself to memorize every detail of this fantasy about to come to life. “Now, get to work.”

Thanking his past self for his foresight in asking the other sensei to clear the building immediately after the lesson, he sets about savouring the benefits of compromise.

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Later that night…

Reader’s POV:

Terry is disappointingly not waiting in the back of the car for you when Larry the chauffeur calls for you later that night, passing on Terry’s apology and saying that he was busy finalizing some last-minute plans for the evening. You nibble on your bottom lip on the ride to dinner, feeling anxious and hoping that you haven’t come off as ungrateful or ruined a bunch of plans that Terry had in store for the evening.

But when the hostess leads you up through the restaurant to a private rooftop patio half an hour later, Terry only seems happy to see you, wrapping you up in a tight embrace as soon as the other woman has retreated down the stairs.

“You look spectacular, my love,” he compliments you in a husky voice, resting his forehead on yours. “I hope that this is a private enough setting for you, my princess.”

You roll your eyes playfully at his teasing before taking a moment to look around. As always, you tended to neglect your surroundings whenever Terry was in the room.

The terrace is decorated with fairy lights and candles that give off the perfect amount of light against the rapidly darkening evening sky, with plants decorating the railings and hung from the ceiling, their flowers giving off a light, exotic fragrance. It’s a warm evening in Los Angeles, but there is a pleasant cool breeze that plays with the loose tendrils of both yours and Terry’s hair. You’re high enough in the air that the typical noise of the city is drowned out, and smooth jazz quietly plays from a sound system you can’t locate.

But most importantly, it’s just the two of you, Terry dressed comfortably, the way he did when he entertained at his home, and that means more to you than anything.

“It’s perfect, Terry,” you tell him sincerely, beaming up at him with pure joy. It wasn’t easy to convince the man you loved to see things your way, especially when it came to your preference for the less extravagant, so him giving into your desires over what he felt you deserved is a big achievement in your eyes. “Thank you,” you whisper, burying your face into his chest as you wrap your arms around his waist tightly once more.

Terry is content to hold you in silence for a moment or two, before releasing you to take your hand and lead you to the comfortable booth, guiding you into place and pouring you each a glass of prosecco before taking his seat next to you. You immediately twine both of your legs around one of his, wanting him close and enjoying the intimacy that this degree of privacy affords you – it means so much more to you than any expensive, formal setting.

“To you, my love,” he croons, raising his glass to you in a toast. “May you find happiness and joy everywhere you go, for that is what you bring to the world and everyone around you.”

You clink your glass with his and down half of your drink quickly to complete the toast, so that you can crawl into his lap and pull him down for a heated kiss, your toes tingling.

“I’m sure I will,” you murmur against his lips. “I’ll be with you.”

Terry’s gaze softens, a sweet smile stealing across his face before he pulls you in for another kiss that quickly has you both getting carried away, Terry gently turning you to lay back in the booth as he comes down over top of you. Fortunately – though that’s debatable – you are both still fully dressed when a pointed cough is heard from behind Terry some time later.

You immediately squeak, flushing an even darker shade of red while Terry remains cool as he always does, straightening up slowly and giving you a wink before turning to look over his shoulder at the server. “Another few minutes with the menu, please,” he requests nonchalantly, turning back to you before the server stammers an “Of course, Mr. Silver,” and scurries back downstairs.

You can’t help but let out a breathless giggle, sitting back up and trying to fix your hair. Terry’s gaze runs up and down your body, and you reflexively slide away from him slightly, knowing that you need to establish some boundaries before you get carried away.

“Don’t even think about it, Terry Silver. I don’t care how alone we are out here, we are not having sex in public!”

With an exaggerated huff and a pout Terry concedes, though he does pull you closer until you’re half-sitting on his lap once more. You both look through the menu together, your head tucked against his chest as you read, and he passes on your orders to the server when they return as you can’t bring yourself to look them in the eye, faint traces of a blush still dusting your cheeks.

You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes after they’ve left, before Terry suddenly slides you off of his lap, an unusual jitteriness to the way he moves that you aren’t sure what to make of. He takes your hand in one of his own, bringing it to his lips and brushing kisses across your knuckles, his gaze scorching.

“I truly can’t fathom how I am the man lucky enough to spend this day with you, Y/N,” he coos softly against the delicate skin of your hand, and you shiver with pleasure. “I must start thanking you for every day you choose to share with me.”

“Terry…” you breathe, overwhelmed as always by the devotion in his words and his touch. He doesn’t push you to say more, instead continuing to kiss his way up from your knuckles to the back of your wrist and slowly up your forearm. He pauses halfway to your elbow, leaning back and staring at your arm with a perplexed expression. You try not to squirm, your brow furrowed as you look up at him inquisitively.

“What? What’s wrong?” you ask with concern after he remains silent for longer than you can stand.

“Something is missing,” he informs you seriously, before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a flat, square gift box. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

You slap him lightly in the chest for his theatrics before reaching for the box with trembling fingers. Inside is a stunning diamond tennis bracelet, the gemstones artfully arranged into vines, leaves and flowers. You nearly drop the box in your shock, but Terry’s quick reflexes have him catching it before it’s even fully left your grip.

His lips are quirked in amusement as you try to stammer your thanks, but you can barely get any words out in your shock; you know that money is no object for him, but this must have cost a fortune. By the time you’ve composed yourself he’s already secured the bracelet around your wrist, giving your now-decorated wrist an approving nod.

“That’s much better,” he purrs, lifting your hand and watching the bracelet catch the light at every angle. “Though if I had my way you’d be covered in jewels and not much else,” he adds, his thumb delicately rubbing the sensitive skin of your wrist in a way that has heat coursing through your veins.

“Terry, it’s absolutely spectacular! Thank you so much,” you gush, unable to take your eyes off of it. You’re vaguely aware of Terry humming contentedly – he’s far more accustomed to you trying to reject gifts of this magnitude, and is clearly pleased by your easy acceptance.

“I assure you, it doesn’t hold a candle compared to the woman wearing it,” he says with a wink.

The servers arrive then with your meal, and while you’re briefly irritated by their timing, you soon see it as a good thing; had they arrived even two minutes later, you know they’d have found you in a completely compromising position.

---

The meal is delicious, and you and Terry are enjoying the night with one another in a comfortable sort of bubble that belongs only to the two of you. Terry’s arm around you is all the protection you need against the growing chill to the air, and you’re more than content to curl up on the bench seat and into him further.

You’re absent-mindedly toying with his hair, out of its signature ponytail – you suspect he wore it this way on purpose, knowing your preference for it – and humming contentedly along with the soft music, when you chance a glance up at his face and notice him looking down at you with an anxious expression.

“Is everything okay, Terry?” you ask, moving your hand to stroke his cheek. He immediately leans into your palm, a pleased sigh escaping him, and he moves to take your other hand in his.

“More than okay, Y/N. I wanted to give you this at home, but I can’t wait anymore.”

With uncharacteristic nervousness, he withdraws another box, slightly thicker than the first, from his coat pocket, placing it on the table. Your mouth goes dry.

“Terry, another one? This is too much, I can’t –” you protest, sliding the unopened box back towards him. In a flash, one large hand covers your own, and the box beneath it, gently caging them against the table.

“You can, and you will,” he says in a low, firm voice, giving you an intense stare. “Open it, please.”

He releases your hand, sliding it and the box closer to you, and you bite your tongue as you lift the top off of the box.

Unlike the jewelry you’d expected, a small set of silver keys lay neatly presented in the box.

You stare at them for a long moment, your jaw falling open slightly, before you force your eyes upwards to meet his own.

“Move in with me,” he requests in a soft voice, his expression vulnerable. “Please?”

You’re utterly speechless, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears, and it takes you a moment to remember to breathe. When you look up, Terry’s brows have started to crease in worry, and you realize that you have yet to answer him.

Throwing your arms around him, you gasp out an acceptance as you pepper his face with kisses, tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel Terry’s arms embrace you tightly as the tension leaves his body, and he lays reverent kisses across the top of your head as you hold one another.

“Really?” he asks, his blue eyes seeking yours for confirmation. “You’ll live with me?”

His rare show of insecurity has your heart melting, and you rush to reassure him.

“Yes, Terry; God, yes!” you whisper breathlessly, and the smile he gives you is dazzling.

“Now, tell me there aren’t anymore surprises left for me tonight – I don’t think my heart can take anymore!” you joke with a sniffle, wiping at your tears.

As if on cue, the sky erupts in brilliant colours, light popping noises scattering through the night. You immediately turn to look at Terry, concerned that the fireworks are going to trigger his PTSD, but he seems unsurprised by the sudden explosions.

“Oops.” Terry mumbles under his breath, more to himself than to you.

“Are… are these –” you stammer, turning all around you to see the colourful display circling you from every direction in a giant ring that spanned blocks.

“For you? Yes,” Terry admits, smiling down at you fondly. “But nobody else knows that.”

And it’s that little detail, more than anything else so far this evening, that tells you that Terry Silver is the man you were meant to be with.

“May I interest you in the dessert menu, Mr. Silver?” a server asks during a pause in the fireworks.

“Just the bill, thank you,” Terry says dismissively to the waiter, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, even as desire coils in your belly from the way he’s gazing at you in the candlelight.

“I’ve got plans for dessert back home.”

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Terry’s POV:

It’s an incredible test of his self-control to not have his way with you in the back of the limo on the ride home, but he knows that once he starts he’s not going to stop until you’re both spent.

Instead, he elects to focus on how soul-deep, over-the-moon happy he is right now, that his house is to become your home; it’s everything he’s ever wanted. He leans down to kiss you again where you’ve settled in his lap, one arm curled around you possessively while the other toys with the sensitive skin behind your knee, making you squirm pleasantly against him and letting out cute little moans that he greedily swallows into his own mouth.

He can tell that you’re partly surprised by the fact that he’s (mostly) keeping his hands to himself, and he chooses to keep up the behaviour if only to see how you’ll respond to it. Now that you’re taking this next big step in your relationship together, Terry finds that he wants to spend all of his waking hours watching you react to life around you. You’ve enthralled him like nothing else.

So, when the two of you arrive back at the mansion, he scoops you into his arms the moment you’re out of the backseat, carrying you bridal style up and into the house while you giggle and blush like a debutante, your arms locked around his neck and resting on his shoulder. He pointedly says nothing, carrying you past the stairs leading to the bedrooms and moving through the house to the kitchen, enjoying your look of growing confusion.

“What are we doing in here?” you ask once he’s set you on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“I believe I told you I had plans for dessert back home. What did you think I meant?” he asks with mock innocence, grin widening as he watches your face turn red. You try to kick at him with a bare foot but he dodges it nimbly, taking off his coat and hanging it on the back of a chair before moving to roll up his shirt sleeves. He catches you watching and bites back a smirk, your reactions to his body never failing to stroke his ego.

“Alright then, Betty Crocker, what’s on the menu?” you snark at him from your perch on the counter, trying to brush off the joke at your expense, but he isn’t fooled.

Terry had thought about it on the ride home, and he realized exactly what he wanted to make for you: a dessert from his childhood. He had remained a relatively private person throughout your relationship, especially when it came to his own history, a boundary that you had always respected but were clearly curious about. Now that you were starting to really, truly build a life together – his heart clenches intensely at the thought – it seems like the perfect time to give you a bit of insight into his past; God knows you’ve been patiently waiting for it.

“Bavarian cream,” he answers, taking in your expectant, curious look as you cock your head at him. He can tell by the patience in your eyes that you’re waiting for an explanation; you know that he never does anything for no reason. You know him so well, and every moment he’s reminded of that little fact sends his spirits soaring.

He’s waited so, so long for you, but it was all well worth it.

“It’s a creamy custard,” he explains as he busies himself with gathering ingredients from the fridge. “It was my favourite as a child. My mother used to make it for me.”

Your gaze softens even as it lights up – you’re clearly pleased by this new bit of information, just as he knew you would be.

“I can’t wait to try it,” you tell him sincerely, a beautiful smile lighting up your face. It’s clear that this genuinely means more to you than the hundred-thousand-dollar bracelet dangling from your dainty wrist, and he finds himself marvelling for the umpteenth time about how you truly just want him for him.

He falls into the comfortable rhythm of preparing the dessert – separating egg yolks, whisking the ingredients together, heating them on the stove, and beating cream into stiff peaks before adding it to the custard. The two of you are making casual conversation as he works, but it doesn’t escape his notice that you’ve been getting hot and bothered, your tongue peeking out from between your lips on occasion as you watch his hands at work.

You’ve been so patient, and given him so much today – starting with that blowjob in his office – on your birthday, no less.

It was time to start rectifying that imbalance immediately.

“It’ll need some time to set,” Terry explains, his eyes on the contents of the bowl on the counter between you. “Though I suppose I should make sure the flavour is to your liking first, hmm?”

He watches you swallow thickly as you watch him dip a long finger into the creamy, pale dessert, your mouth dry as he lifts the digit to your lips. Your beautiful eyes look past his finger to seek his out, and you stare up at him unblinkingly as you shyly extend your tongue to lick a dollop of the sweet cream off of his finger. Your eyes widen slightly, your pupils dilating, and you let out an incredibly sensual moan, instinctively grabbing his wrist to hold his hand steady so that you can take his finger into your mouth, sucking it clean.

Even he’s surprised by the intensity of the shudder that rocks his entire body at the gesture.

He can tell by the way that you lick your lips and avert your gaze that you’re about to ask for something intriguing, and he tries to contain his interest.

“So all that happens now is that the gelatin sets?”

“Yes,” he answers, curious as to your train of thought.

“But it’s technically safe to eat now?”

“Yes,” he replies in a hoarse voice, hoping that he’s accurately picked up on your train of thought.

Sure enough, you tug him towards you, wrapping your limbs around him and squeezing like a python as you pull him down into a fiery kiss.

“Let’s take it upstairs just like this,” you suggest, panting slightly in your arousal. “Now.”

---

Reader’s POV:

Terry somehow manages to juggle both the bowl of dessert and you wrapped around him as he carries you upstairs, kicking open the door to his bedroom – soon to be your bedroom – in his haste to get you where he wants you. You giggle in his arms, taking the bowl from him and setting it on the bedside table.

“Eager, are we, Mr. Silver?” you tease as he climbs onto the bed on all fours with you still hanging onto him.

“Yes,” he answers immediately, sounding unabashed. “You’ve spent the day entirely too unravished, if you ask me.”

Detangling your limbs from around him, he lays you out on the bed before running his hands from your ankles up your legs, disappearing beneath the floral fabric of your dress to tug your panties off.

“Speaking of eager,” he purrs, holding the damp scrap of fabric in front of your face, “you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you groan desperately, trying to keep your eyes focused so that you can unbutton his shirt.

Terry growls in approval, slipping his hands beneath you to pull down the zipper of your dress and gently pulling the sleeves down your arms before tearing the clothing off of you in one swift motion. Sitting up on your knees, you push the shirt off of his shoulders, but before you can get a firm grip on his belt he’s got you on your back again, pulling one of your legs up to wrap around his hips.

“We’ll have more than enough time for that later, sweetheart. Right now is all about me spoiling my girl the way she deserves.”

Not wanting to be outdone – it was your birthday, and you should get what you want – you blindly reach into the bowl of cream, gathering some on your fingers and swiping them across Terry’s mouth. He tries to snatch up your fingers between his teeth but you’re too fast for him, instead pulling him in for a truly decadent kiss, your tongue gathering the cream from his lips and sweeping it into his mouth.

The positively sinful groan he lets out has your toes curling, and you need to hear more of it, right fucking now.

Taking advantage of Terry’s current state of… distraction – you can feel his erection pressing insistently against your inner thigh – you quickly pull him to the side, rolling the pair of you until you are straddling his hips. The sight of Terry shirtless with mussed hair has you grinding eagerly against the bulge in his trousers, and you quickly reach for the bowl again, painting stripes across his chest with the sweet substance so that you can bend down and lick him clean.

The slight saltiness to his skin only enhances the flavour of the dessert, and you eagerly devour it off of him, hearing him cursing under his breath when your tongue brushes against a flat nipple. Grinning wickedly, you gather the remaining cream around his nipples, licking and sucking until he loses his patience, growling at you as he forcefully turns you over and pins you to the bed.

Pinning you in place with his hips and a stern glare, he reaches into the bedside drawer for a reel of nylon rope that immediately has you squirming beneath him. He removes the tennis bracelet from your wrist before deftly binding your hands together and securing them to the bedframe above your head, ignoring your weak protests.

“Save me some cream, at least,” you request with a pout – he’s currently staring down at you like you’re something to eat.

“Why should I? I should cover you head to toe and spend all night sucking you clean,” he growls, the low timbre to his voice having your eyes rolling back in your head as you imagine a night of him servicing you. Still, you have a point to make, so you force yourself to focus, sitting up as much as you can with your hands bound over your head and staring him in the eye.

“Imagine fucking my throat with my mouth full of cream,” you purr up at him, pleased at the nearly feral look he gives you in response.

“Christ, you’re a filthy creature,” he snarls, his grip tightening on the curve of your waist.

“Only for you, baby,” you reply with a cheeky smile. His answering smirk has you pressing your thighs together.

“Damn right,” he hisses, his hands forcing your legs apart and to either side of him. “Now, be a good girl for Daddy and then you can have your dessert.”

You nod up at him with a soft whine, trying to brace yourself for whatever is to come.

Terry – of course – had to test your limits, covering your body in the cool substance and tracing patterns on your arms, legs, neck and stomach and purposefully neglecting your breasts and pussy. He keeps his heated gaze on your face as he slowly licks you clean, wriggling his tongue on the underside of one forearm from your wrist to the crease of your elbow in a way that has your thighs quaking to either side of him.

“I still want to decorate this perfect body with jewels,” Terry promises as he languidly licks up cream off of your ankle. “But this will do in the meantime. You taste absolutely divine, beloved.”

By the time he cleans the cream from your limbs you’re a complete quivering mess, but Terry refuses to speed up. You know from past experience that any begging on your part – unless he asked you to – would only make the sadistic bastard draw things out even more.

“You’re being so patient, sweet thing,” he coos approvingly, his tongue swirling around your bellybutton while you arch up into him with a cry. “Such a good girl, letting me eat you up.”

He slowly brushes your breasts with cream next, while you do your best not to seem too affected. The custard is thickening now, each of your nipples decorated by a curl of cream.

“Ah, see? It’s starting to set. Stiff peaks,” Terry jokes before kissing the cream off of a prominent nipple, chuckling around your breast while you keen, your spine completely bowed up and off the bed. He grips your hips firmly, pressing them into the mattress as he continues to devour you, and you’re already so close that the slight pressing together of your inner thighs is enough to have you coming, your legs tightening their hold around his hips as you buck up against him.

“I love watching you come apart for me, Y/N,” he murmurs in a husky voice once you’ve stopped moaning his name and caught your breath slightly, though your chest is still heaving. “You were made for me to ruin, and spoil, and own.”

“Yesss,” you hiss, pulling him upwards with your knees until he gives you what you want, kissing you deeply, traces of cream on his tongue that you lap up eagerly. “I’m all yours, Terry. We were made for each other, love.”

Terry’s exuberance can be felt in every brush of his lips against yours, the way his fingers press into your flesh and his eyes bore into your own. You’ll be happy to affirm your feelings for him for eternity, especially knowing what it means to him.

“My sweet girl,” Terry breathes, nuzzling into the crook of your neck affectionately. “I love you so much.”

“Let me up and prove it!” you tease, tugging at your restraints. Terry smirks down at you, running a hand slowly down one side of your body.

“Let you up? When I finally have you where I want you, in our bed?” he asks playfully, and you can’t help the beaming smile that spreads across your face when he mentions this space being yours now, too.

“No dice, sweetheart, not even for the birthday girl. But I will let you choose if you’d rather have your dessert now or after I’ve had seconds…” he leers down at you, one large hand squeezing a handful of your inner thigh firmly. You shudder, thinking about Terry using you while you’re tied up; it’s one of your favourite things to do with him (though everything you do together nears the top of the list), and you’re surprised he’s letting the focus deviate from you so much today of all days.

“Ooohhh, let me!” you moan eagerly, Terry taking in your enthusiasm with smug satisfaction. He makes a show of taking off his pants, staying just out of reach and watching you squirm impatiently before climbing back on the bed, keeping his knees to either side of your body and his weight off of you, cheekily balancing the bowl of dessert on your ribs.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he commands, using his fingers to feed the cream into your greedy mouth. You hold it all inside, your cheeks bulging out, and Terry gives you a wicked smile, bringing the swollen head of his cock just in front of your lips. You look up at him with needy, pleading eyes, silently begging to give him pleasure. His eyes darken further as he stares down at you right where you were meant to be; utterly at his mercy.

“Tell me what you want, beautiful,” he purrs, his eyes glittering.

“I want to suck your cock, Daddy,” you moan through your full mouth, and while the words are mostly unintelligible, he gets the gist, bringing the tip of his cock to your full lips. You lift your head as much as you can, guiding him inside your mouth with your tongue, the cream moving to accommodate his length.

“Oh sweet fuck,” he hisses, his hips moving to slide deeper, the difference in texture and temperature between your hot mouth and the cool cream clearly driving him wild. You moan throatily around him, your tongue swirling the cream around his cock as you try to bring him quickly. Nothing gave you a greater high than making this imposing, restrained man come undone.

“Such a perfect, dirty mouth,” he growls as he quickens his pace, his fists clenched in the sheets to either side of your head. “God, what you do to me, Y/N,”he snarls before an incredibly sexy whimper escapes his lips, causing his hips to stutter. “You’ve got me so close already, baby girl, I’m going to –”

You lift your legs suddenly, your knees guiding his hips closer to your head, and the movement takes him by surprise, causing him to reach up and grab the headboard as he climaxes, thighs shaking as he keeps his weight off of you. The bitter, salty taste of his cum compliments the dessert wonderfully, and you swallow everything you can before starting to clean the remaining cream off of his softening cock with kittenish licks that have him twitching above you.

Terry, hair mussed and face flushed from the exertion, stares down at you with unblinking eyes as he watches you lick him clean with fascination.

“I’ve got to stop letting you bewitch me, woman,” he comments off-handedly as he smiles at you fondly, sliding down the bed to lay next to you. “Today is supposed to be all about you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say with mock innocence, batting your eyes up at him. “I certainly got what I wanted.”

“What a coincidence – having you tied down and pleasuring me is also at the top of my birthday wishlist.”

“Why should we only reserve it for special occasions?”

He gives you a dark, brooding look. “Every day before I met you seems more and more like a waste.”

“We should make up for lost time then,” you retort with a grin. “Untie me?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that – I’m not quite done with my dessert.”

“But I need to touch you, Terry,” you coo quietly up at him, and his gaze softens. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he reaches up to remove the rope from your wrists, taking each one as it’s freed and kissing it thoroughly, checking for damage.

“Thank you, baby,” you murmur sweetly, your fingers playing with his hair as you stare into his blue, blue eyes. They were so captivating that you often forgot your surroundings entirely…

The temperature of the bavarois against your aching clit makes you shriek, Terry having taken advantage of your distraction to work some of the cream between your legs. Before you can tighten your grip he’s slipped his head out of your grasp with a wicked smile, sliding down the bed and spreading your legs in one fluid motion before burying his face at the apex of your thighs.

“Oh fuck, Terry, Oh God,” you groan, trying to grind your hips up against his face. He watches you with feverish, bright eyes peeking out from above your mound as he makes you come apart from him again, backing off right before you reach the point of no return.

“That’s right, sweetheart, let me love you how you need,” he purrs, chuckling as you fist your hands in his gorgeous silver curls and try to tug him back to where you need him. Predictably, your attempts have no effect, and he turns his head slightly to give you a patronizing kiss on your inner thigh.

“Terry!” you whine his name, panting desperately, “PLEASE!”

“There’s a new rule for you tonight, beloved,” he informs you nonchalantly, as though you were in any frame of mind to follow along. “You want to come once, you come twice – got it?”

He dives back in to eat you out before you can even respond, and there’s no way you can be expected to form a coherent thought and make a decision. You know that Terry knows this, too, and that you’ll happily agree to anything right now if it means that he’ll let you come.

“Yes, fine! Please don’t stop,” you beg, and you can feel him smirking victoriously against your folds as he snakes his tongue inside of you. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he takes his time, spreading the last of the dessert along your hips and thighs and devouring you thoroughly.

“I will never get over the way you taste,” he groans with satisfaction, two fingers pumping you full while he flicks his tongue over your clit, and you come hard, screaming his name. He doesn’t relent, quickly withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue as he drinks up your release, dragging out your orgasm with his lips and purring his approval inside of you; you can feel it in your bones.

“Give me another one,” he demands in a low, husky voice, his large hands gripping your thighs tightly as he spreads them apart, watching your pussy quiver in its release. You let out a wordless whine, your hands laid overtop of his where he holds you open.

“Make… me…” you pant, staring down at him challengingly, and he gives you a wolfish grin, blunt fingernails digging into your soft flesh.

“With pleasure, my princess,” he purrs, his eyes promising that you’ll be begging for mercy by the time he’s done with you.

You’re not naïve enough to believe that this will be the end of Terry’s plans for you for the evening – and sure enough, after thoroughly scrubbing the lingering traces of sugar off of both of you in the shower, he would spend the rest of the night and well into the early hours of the morning making even sweeter love to you.

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Well, I know what I want for my birthday! Hope you all enjoyed!

#Thomas Ian Griffith #Terry Silver #Terry Silver x Reader #Cobra Kai #KK3 #tkk3 #karate kid 3 #the karate kid 3 #happy birthday #silver fox

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