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#willy wonka fic
oneawkwardwriter · 4 months
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Bedtime Tales
pairing: Wonka!Willy Wonka x literary nerd!gn!reader warnings/tags: Wonka spoilers!, just a lighthearted story, reader being a huge nerd totally not inspired by myself no... summary: reader finds out that not only has Willy never learned how to read, he was also never read to as a child, so they make a deal a/n: I'm lowkey obsessed with the new Wonka film, I can't even learn for major tests without seeing connections wc: 942
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"What do you mean you can't read?" You asked in astonishment as you stare at the chocolatier in front of you.
"I just can't..." Willy said rather matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders as he took in the shocked expression on your face. "I never needed to, so I never learned it."
"Would've come in handy at zoo," Noodle muttered under her breath, "We nearly got eaten by a tiger."
"Keyword: nearly," Willy emphasised, "I've nearly been eaten by a lot of things, and they only got as much as a nibble."
"Okay, yeah, that's... that's not really comforting," You replied, shaking your head as if to process the thought, "So, you don't how to read... but at least you've been read to when you were a child, right? Right...?"
But Willy only shook his head, making your eyes widen more. "You've never been... right, okay, uhm... right, yes..." You're stumbling over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence and failing miserably. "Right, well... I'm sorry, but how has someone with so much imagination never been read to? Where do your ideas come from if not from stories?"
"I don't know, they just... form in my mind?" Willy answered, not sure how to respond to your questions. "I think you're making this a bigger deal than it has to be."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. the Chocolatier," You reply sarcastically as you look him dead in the eye, "I didn't realise that you were capable of such great things. Why would you even need to read? You already traveled around the world, so there's no need for you to immerge yourself into another."
"Are you sure she's still talking about my non-ability to read?" Willy asked Noodle, still confused but also slightly intrigued by your apparent affinity for reading.
"Hey, you pissed off the literature nerd, not me," Noodle simply answered before going back to her chores.
"Okay, you're exaggerating, I'm not pissed off," You clarify as you shake your head, "I'm just... baffled by the fact that you've never bothered with anything related to reading."
Truth be told, they could've gone around in circles like that forever if it hadn't been for Mrs. Scrubbit checking everyone's attendance and sending them to their separate rooms.
You leaned against the door and sighed, tired from yet another exhausting day at the bleachers. You sat down on your bed and let your head rest in your hands. Having been at the laundromat and bleachers for a few years now and still having several years ahead of you, you had given up on dwelling over your miserable predicament.
So instead, you got out a book from your suitcase, one of your very few possessions. Seeing as the lightbulb above your head kept on flickering and wouldn't provide much light, you moved over to the window, where the moon casted a dim glow over the pages.
After a while, you heard a soft psst coming from the window of the room across from yours. You looked up, only for your eyes to catch the gaze of the brilliant, illiterate young man.
"So, I had a talk with Noodle, and she offered to learn me how to read," Willy said, "She said it would be necessary if this whole chocolate selling operation works through."
"Well, that's a nice offer," You reply, "And I agree with her. You won't always be able to depend on others to do the reading for you."
"Now that you mention it, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing," He comments, "I mean, you seemed to be a advocate for being read to, right?"
You can't help but lightly chuckle. "There's a massive difference between having someone read for you and someone read to you, Mr. Wonka," You say, "One creates a depency, the other provides an escape."
"Well, if that's the case, let's hope that prisoners aren't being read to," Willy joked, lightly grinning when he saw a faint smile creep up your lips. "See, who needs to read when a clever choice of words can make even the most stubborn of people crack a smile?"
"Who are you calling stubborn, Mr 'My near-death experience doesn't mean I should learn how to read'?" You ask rethorically as you raise and eyebrow at him, "Besides, it's often a clever choice of words that makes reading so worthwhile."
"Well, I suppose you'll have to prove that to me in order for me to believe it," He argued, secretly hoping you'd concede.
"Oh, is that how it has to be?" In your mind, you were somewhat thrilled to indulge and with that, be able to share something you were passionate about. But what's the fun in simply saying okay? "Well, I suppose if you asked kindly enough I would think about it..."
"Alright, alright..." Willy said as he stifled a smirk while rolling his eyes. "Would you, please, read to me so I may realise at last what I've been missing out on?"
"Because you asked so politely and totally weren't forced to do so, I will indulge you, Mr. Wonka," You say, fighting back a smile of your own.
And so, you start to read, occasionally looking up only to find fim listening attentively. Right before the story reaches its climax, you shut the book.
Being surprised by the sudden halt, Willy snaps out of his hazy state of drifting off into the story and looks confused.
"Hey, why did you stop?" He asks in astonishment, "How am I supposed to know how the story ends?"
"I guess we'll find out another time," You say, a slight smirk forming on your lips. "Good night, Willy."
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© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!
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your-nanas-house · 4 months
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Babies... Just watched the movie Wonka at the cinema.... yeah. I will start to write for him too.
Count Willy Wonka as a new addition to my list of characters I write for.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒘𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑 (ma goutte de rosée)
valentine's day masterlist
summary - willy wonka is known to create sweets and chocolate, using his talent, he makes you something special.
the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Willy had the most brilliant idea for Valentine’s Day. He spent months preparing a perfect gift for you. The Oompa Loompas helped him build, make and decorate a room dedicated to you, filled with your favourite treats and things. Right now, Willy was reviewing everything and ensuring everything was perfect. He giggled to himself as he checked over the lollipop tree that had different shapes and varieties of lollipops. 
He stood and walked out of the room and toward the lounge where you sit and read. “Dewdrop! I have a surprise for you. Can you please follow me?!” He awkwardly smiles, rocking back and forth on his heels as he holds his hand out for you to take. You look up and smile at him, softly placing your hand in his glove-covered one and slowly standing. Willy felt giddy as he led you out of the room toward the closed pink door. “Close your eyes!” Your eyes close, smiling as you hear your partner giggle in glee. Willy opened the door and gently led you into the large room, feeling nerves enter him as he waited for your reaction. “Okay, Dewdrop! Open your eyes!” 
You open your eyes and look around the room in awe, taking in the giant pink and red trees with different kinds of lollipops on their leaves, the light pink grass and the big gummy bears littered around the room, your very own chocolate water fountain. You wondered how Willy made it have a mix of white and milk chocolate without the two colliding. You couldn’t believe your eyes, taking in how beautiful everything looked and finally understanding why he had been cooped up for so long. “Willy…. This, this is amazing.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes, and your mouth drops open in amazement. “You did all this for me?” 
He nods, nervously smiling as he clasps his hands together. A squeak escapes him as you launch yourself at him and wrap your arms and legs around his body, holding onto him tight as you press kisses all over his face. “Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look into his eyes before leaning forward and bringing him into a deep passionate kiss. Your eyes catch onto something behind him, and you slowly look over and smile. “Willy Wonka, you are one special person.” You unwrap your legs and jump down, pressing a kiss into his cheek and walk over to the lifesize version of him. Holding a purple box, you slowly open the lid and look inside, smiling as you pull out a pretty pearl necklace, turning to look at Willy, noticing that he’s moved closer. 
Willy stands there with a small smile, carefully taking the necklace from you and gesturing for you to turn around. You turn around and lift your hair as he puts it onto you. “I know it’s not much… But I thought of you when I saw it.” You turn back around and give him a soft glare, “Oh, do you not like it? I can take it back….”
“Willy, you did great. The necklace is beautiful, and the room is wonderful.” You place your hand on his cheek as you look up at him. “You’re so perfect, and I love you so much.” Willy looks down at you softly, pressing his forehead into yours.
“I love you so much, my little dewdrop.”
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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mr-and-mr-mitchell · 4 months
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Sweet Revenge
Time has passed since the Chocolate Cartel were held responsible for their crimes. Now they're back, and they want revenge on Willy.
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addsalwayssick · 1 month
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absolute 10/10 fic honestly
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roxygen22 · 2 months
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A sickly Wonka and Female reader taking care of him (after the events of the movie.)
Summary: Stand-alone prequel to MLCB series combined with an ask for a sick fic. How the reader met and fell in love with Willy. Instant chemistry! (Longer than intended, but I just couldn't stop)
C/W: Illness, though not graphic
<><><>
BOXES
"ACHOO!" You heard a loud sneeze in the alley followed by a crashing sound on your walk home from work. You peered around the corner of the building and spotted a lanky man with a fuschia coat and dark hair curling around the brim of his brown top hat looking down at the mess of boxes surrounding him on the ground.
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"Are you alright, sir?" you asked.
He swirled around to look at you with a light pink blush spreading across his cheeks. "Oh, uh, yes. Thank you, Miss...?"
"[Y/N]."
"[Y/N]. What a lovely name. I'm [achoo!] Willy."
"I know who you are, Mr. Wonka," you said with a smile.
"Really?" he said in a surprised and equally nasal tone before sneezing again.
"You *are* quite the celebrity around here, sir. Do you need some help?" you asked, pointing to the boxes.
Willy looked around and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Noticing that he didn't seem to be the type to easily ask for or accept help, you pried further. "Where are you trying to take them? I work at a shop nearby. We could borrow the cart."
"Really?"
"You say that a lot, don't you, Mr. Wonka." You giggled.
"Just Willy, please," he said softly. "I just need to get these boxes to my shop at the Galeries Gourmet. I thought I could get them all in one go, but well..." he trailed off as he gestured with his hands to the boxes on the ground.
"Well, Mr. Wonk...Willy. You stay here and gather your boxes, and I'll go grab the cart."
He flashed a big smile your way. "Thank you, miss."
"Just [Y/N], please," you parroted back with a slight blush. "I'll be right back." As you walked away, you heard him sneeze a couple more times before you were out of earshot. Poor thing sounds like he is coming down with a cold.
<><><>
By the time you returned, Willy had restacked the boxes so they were no longer blocking the alley. You both loaded the cart, but he took over pushing it toward his shop. "So why are you helping out a complete stranger, [y/n]? I do hope you aren't missing out on any big plans on my account."
"You aren't exactly a stranger, Willy. Everyone knows the famous magical chocolatier. But in that moment after you dropped your boxes, you looked just as human as the rest of us. I couldn't very well just pass you by and ignore you. Besides, this is far more exciting than anything I had planned this evening."
"Really?" [achoo]
"There you go again," you grinned. "Yes, really. The only plans I had were dinner and a book."
"Oh, you like to read? I like to read, too," Willy announced proudly. "I just meant...well, a pretty girl...lady...person like you...I mean, no, uh... there's nobody waiting for you at home?" he stammered.
"Are you asking if I am spoken for, Mr. Wonka?" you teased and unintentionally sent him into a coughing fit. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry. I was just joking. Are you okay?" You grabbed his arm in an attempt to stabilize him as he doubled over.
"I'm fine," Willy croaked as he stood back up. He looked down at your hand on his arm and smiled. Feeling suddenly bashful, you let go and clasped your hands behind your back.
"We should keep going, Willy. You need to get out of this cold air."
"Right you are, [y/n]. Your nose is turning the same shade as my coat!" he said with a grin as he booped your nose with his index finger. Warmth spread all over your body like electricity at his touch.
Recognizing that his actions may have been a touch too forward for a girl he just met (who never confirmed her availability), Willy cleared his throat in embarrassment and started to push the cart once more. You walked alongside, still dumbstruck by the effect of his touch.
"You didn't answer my question," he quipped after a few steps, breaking you out of your reverie.
"And what was that?" You knew what he was referring to but wanted to hear him say it again.
"Are you...[clears throat] is there anyone waiting for you at home?"
"Just my parents." If anyone else had asked you that, it may have been creepy. But you could sense his sincerity.
"Oh," he said with relief, though you could swear you saw a brief glint of...sadness? "Great, well I will have your cart freed up quickly so you can get home and not worry them."
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"Yes, is there anyone at home waiting on you? Perhaps a special someone?" You looked up into his eyes, unabashedly flirting. You noticed that underneath those lush dark lashes, his eyes were actually blue with a hint of green around the pupil. Huh. He's even more beautiful up close, you thought.
"No. It's just me and my shop."
"Oh," you mimicked his earlier response, trying to disguise your excitment that the magician/chocolatier was single. The two of you kept walking in companionable silence until you reached his shop.
<><><>
After unloading the cart, Willy swept the hat off his head and half-bowed to you. "Thank you again, [y/n]."
You giggled at the gesture. Not ready to call it a night just yet, you offered, "I could help you unpack those boxes, if you'd like. I know you aren't feeling 100% and really, I have nothing better to do." Besides thinking about him all evening, you said silently in your head.
Willy tried to stifle another cough. "Alright, sure. More hands makes lighter work."
You grabbed a box, sat in the floor, and started shuffling through its contents. You had no clue where anything went, so you started sorting like things together for Willy to put away. At one point your hand grazed his as you reached for the same item. You both blushed.
Clearing his throat - you were unsure whether this time was due to awkwardness or illness - he sat down on the other side of the box from you. He said, "So tell me about this book you are reading." It didn't take much prompting for you to excitedly recount what you had read so far of Treasure Island and your other favorite adventure books. In turn, he regaled you with tales from his time as a sailor.
Time passed very quickly as you swapped stories. Next thing you knew, it was dark out, and the two of you hadn't even fully unpacked the first box.
"Oh dear," you groused and stood up. "I should get going, Willy. My mother is probably pacing the floors."
"Since you stayed out late on my behalf, it's the least I could do to walk you home. If you'd allow me the pleasure." You noticed that all of the talking had made his voice sound hoarse and gravelly.
"You really ought to stay inside where it's warm. The cold will aggravate your cough."
"I wouldn't be able to rest wondering if you made it home safely in the dark," he said softly as he stood and brushed the dust off his pants.
You felt the heat flash across your cheeks as you blushed at his admission that he would be thinking of you after you leave. "Oh, well in THAT case, I would be honored to have you accompany me."
You both bundled back up into your respective coats and hats. As you suspected, Willy's cough worsened with the cold. As much as you would love to draw out this encounter, you don't want him in the cold air longer than he had to be. You quickly led him to your shop to return the cart before heading home.
Once you arrived, you both lingered at the front door. You stopped breathing as he took your hand and kissed it. "I'm glad I dropped those boxes, [y/n]," he said softly as he looked into your eyes.
It was your turn to stammer. "Me, too. I mean...I'm glad...I'm glad our paths crossed."
"Perhaps they can cross again soon?"
"I'd love that. I..." you were interrupted by Willy's sneeze. You couldn't help but laugh at his timing. "You, sir, need to go home, get warm, and take care of that cold." You smiled up at him.
"Yes, ma'am." He grinned.
You unlocked the front door and slipped inside. You leaned against the door and slowly released the breath you didn't realize you had been holding. You stared at the hand that he kissed, biting your lip to contain a squeal of excitement.
"Mom," you called out. "I'm home, and you're never going to believe the evening I've had!"
<><><>
You were off work the next day, so you decided to swing by Willy's shop in the morning to see how he was doing. You walked in and browsed the store, but he was nowhere to be seen. You started second guessing yourself, wondering if you were being too forward by dropping in the very next day, when you heard, "[y/n]?"
You spun around with excitement, but your face fell when you took in his unnatural pallor. "Oh Willy, you poor dear."
He started to speak, but was overcome by a hacking cough that sounded far worse than the night before.
"You should be at home resting."
"I can't. My store..."
"....seems to be running just fine at the moment. Besides, your customers may be wary of you coughing all over the chocolate." You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrow.
He smirked. "Touché." His voice was still raspy from the night before.
"Let me walk you home this time."
"I am quite capable..." [achoo]
"Oh, I know you're capable of getting there. I'm not convinced you're capable of leaving the shop without being dragged out."
"You know me so well in less than 24 hours," he said with a smile that reached his glassy eyes. "I suppose you are right [sniffle]. You have a knack for appearing at a time of need. One can't pour from an empty cup, I suppose. Let me get my things."
You waited out front has he gave instructions to the cashier and stocker. Once he joined you, he offered you his arm and you began walking toward his place. The trek was interrupted by multiple coughing fits, one of which left him breathless and needing a break on a bench.
"Is it okay if I feel your forehead?" you asked. Once he nodded, you gingerly rested your fingers against his head. "You are burning up, Willy. Let me know when you feel like you can stand again so we can get you home."
After a few moments, Willy rose from the bench. He offered you his arm again, but you suspected this time it was to balance himself more than a gentlemanly gesture.
Willy looked even more pale and clammy by the time you arrived at his home. He handed you his keys to unlock the door as he leaned against the frame for support. You opened the door and gently led him inside. You wouldn't normally enter the abode of a relative stranger, but he was all alone and you felt oddly safe with him.
He collapsed on his sofa as you set to work to make him comfortable. You dampened a cloth to set on his forehead, removed his boots, and covered him with a blanket. "Would you like me to make you some tea for your throat?" He nodded and pointed to the cabinet where he kept the tea leaves.
You got the kettle going and looked back to observe the man. Was he asleep already? You tiptoed over to check. Sure enough, he had dozed off. Feeling that sleep was probably more necessary than tea, you turned off the stove.
Unsure of what to do, but having no desire to leave him in this state, you sat in the armchair next to Willy and passed the time by reading a book from his small collection. After about two hours, he started to stir. He looked around confused before he saw you and smiled.
"[Y/N], you stayed."
"Of course. Could you imagine the uproar if I let something happen to our town's infamous chocolatier? I would be cast out." You grinned. "How are you feeling?"
"A little better." His voice sounded a little less strained than earlier. That was a good sign.
"Good. I'll make you that tea now." But before you could make your way to the kitchen, Willy grabbed your hand.
"Thank you for staying and taking care of me, both yesterday and today. You hardly even know me."
"We can fix that."
"Really?"
You smiled, rolled your eyes, and went back to making tea.
<><><>
Masterlist
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The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)
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masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates
When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.
pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)
rating: 18+, minors DNI
word count: 1.2k
tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo
chapter warnings: smut, infidelity
Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.
"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"
"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."
"That's rich, coming from you."
William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.
"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.
"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.
"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.
"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."
---
Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.
"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"
The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."
With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.
She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.
Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.
"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.
"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.
"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.
"What is this?" Kate asked.
"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."
Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.
"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."
Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.
A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.
"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.
Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.
Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.
"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"
That's when Kate fainted.
When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.
A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."
"Your what?" Kate asked.
As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.
"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."
"Oh? Might I try some?"
"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.
He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.
Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."
The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."
Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.
She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.
"Are you cold?" He asked.
"A bit," Kate admitted.
"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."
Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"
His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.
She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."
Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.
She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.
"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.
"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."
So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.
"I'm close," Kate moaned.
"Good girl."
He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.
It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.
"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.
A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.
---
When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.
"What was your favorite part?" He asked.
"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."
"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.
"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."
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happyandticklish · 2 months
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The Joke's That Make You Laugh
Notes: Inspired by this post by @nhasablogg because I've been fixated on the concept ever since I saw it. Anyways, Wonka gives off insane lee energy and I refuse to believe he wouldn't get up to shit like this. Based on the new Wonka movie.
Summary: Wonka's newest chocolate creation has him in stitches.
Willy's heart raced as he looked down at the creation on his table. It was a beautiful thing. The appetizing treat curled slightly into a bow with golden tendrils spanning out into dozens of soft barbs. It very nearly seemed to flutter with the breeze flowing in through the window with how lifelike it appeared, though Willy knew this was impossible.
A feather. A simple creation when compared to the hundreds of wonders Willy had stocked his factory with, but its appeal was not held in its design. It was in what it could do.
He sat back in his chair, holding his chin as he stared at it. His leg jumped and jerked under the table in an unsteady, anxious rhythm. He and the feather held a silent staring contest as he debated adding finishing touches. Behind it sat several copies of the same chocolate in a pile—he always made sure to create back-ups. Perhaps he should add speckles to the top for realism, or splatter a black coating on the quill to appear as ink. None of this mattered, really. If he was being honest with himself, the chocolate had been finished thirty minutes ago and all of his tinkering and fussing was mere procrastination.
Willy wasn’t embarrassed. That was silly, after all, to be embarrassed of something that no one will see but you, that impacts no one but you. Not quite nervous, either. He had wanted to try creating something like this for a while now, even if the idea hadn’t quite formed into a coherent thought yet. He was excited about this. He wanted this. No, if he were to put it into words, it was a vague apprehension, a worry that it wouldn’t work, or worse, that it would work too well.
He tapped his fingers against the table. He leapt to his feet. He paced around several yard before whirling back to face the innocent feather.
“It’s just chocolate,” he muttered to himself. “Familiar territory.”
Before he could overthink it anymore, he snatched the treat and popped it into his mouth.
He rolled the chocolate around with his tongue. White chocolate, notes of hazelnut, all with a sweet vanilla glaze. It was, as always, delicious. He held it in the pocket of his cheek, allowing the warmth of his mouth to dissolve it.
Stalling.
Willy frowned, before determinedly swallowing it.
The effect was not instantaneous. He had made sure to calculate in a slight delay as there had been some fear of choking by accident. He was hyper aware of his own nervous system, unsure if what he was feeling was a tingling sensation or merely the butterflies swooping in his stomach.
Now that he had done it, worries began to flood Willy’s mind. He was alone, as he often was. There was Noodle and the rest of them, and the Oompa Loompas of course, but not here, not in his personal bedroom, not in his factory after hours. Sometimes they would stay late to finish up orders, and the Oompa Loompas slept here at the factory. If something had gone wrong, it would only be reasonable to get him. What if someone came in? What if it didn’t fade out in time? What if he had gotten the calculations wrong and it never wore off?
What if it was a dud and he was working himself up over nothing?
Just as he was about to go and check if the door was actually locked, however, Willy felt it. It was faint at first, a mere spark of something in his stomach. Soon, however, the spark multiplied until it was less of a spark and more of a crawling sensation over his lower abdomen, like spiders with feathers for legs.
“Oh. Oh.” A grin was breaking out across his features, his legs far less steady than they were mere moments before. He thought about making a break for the bed, but the sensation was only getting worse, and he found himself crumpling to the ground, arms wrapped protectively around his stomach.
It tickled. God, it tickled. More than he had anticipated, despite having created the recipe himself. It was spreading out from his stomach now and heading toward his sides. He dug beneath his coat, his own fingers gripping frantically at his undershirt in an unconscious effort to stop the feeling. Giggles welled up in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep them in. But it just wouldn’t stop. It was all just so intentional and teasing. Swipes up his sides, pokes at his ribs, fluttery fingers scuttling across his hips and down to his lower back. It was an overwhelming force of gentleness that he couldn’t fight off no matter how much he wanted to.
He knew logically that the chocolate was merely activating his nervous system and making his mind believe that it tickled when in actuality he was fine. One of the core ingredients to the chocolate was a rare hallucinogen he had found while out on his travels that was meant to interfere with one’s nervous system.
The idea for a tickling chocolate was one he had been working on for a while by then (secretly, of course, in the late hours of the night when the longing for it transferred into a desire so intense that he thought he might actually die if he didn't have it fulfilled), so when he stumbled across the plant, he knew immediately what to do.
He had tweaked it of course, taken out any dangerous elements, and only added in enough for about twenty minutes—nothing too crazy. So, rationally, he knew there was nothing really happening to him.
Still. It felt real.
Red crept up Willy's neck, tinging his ears as he twitched and jerked away from his invisible oppressors. It was a strange feeling, being tickled by one’s own mind—no pesky hands to fight off, no people to plead to. Just a grown man giggling to himself on his bedroom floor. And the only person he had to blame for this was himself. All of this was going on in his own mind, after all. As such, it was easy to convince himself that all he really needed to do to get it to stop was stop believing that it tickled at all—even if it was a goal that he hoped to fail at.
Willy forced his eyes open, taking deep, shuddering breaths. He glared firmly down at his own legs, holding the image of them in his mind. He could see nothing touching him, therefore there was nothing touching him. Thus, his mind had to be wrong in its attempts to convince Willy that something was squeezing devastating pinches higher and higher up his legs.
“It doesn’t tickle,” he gritted out, his wide grin saying otherwise. “It doesn’t… mmhmm… doesn’t tickle!”
Fingers crawling up toward his torso.
“Doesn’t—”
Scribbling over his stomach.
“Ti—”
Thumbs digging into his hips.
“—ihicKLE! Oh, what’s the pohohoint!” He doubled over at last, cackling wildly as he held his stomach. “Why does it hahave to tihickle so much!?” To who he was speaking, he couldn’t say, but some part of his mind was convinced that if he put the information out into the universe that maybe it would lend a helping hand. When that didn’t work, he attempted a more accepting method.
“N-now, now,” he assured himself, as though condoling a wailing child. “It’s just, ah, tihickling! Nothing t-to get so wohorked up about!” This was answered by several rapid-fire pokes to his ribs that sent him falling back and rolling about the floor. He knew it was impossible for the tickling to in any way be impacted by himself, as proven earlier, but it was starting to feel a tad bit personal as time went on.
Willy’s shoulders scrunched as soft touches flicked behind his ears, seeming to almost kiss his neck. He covered his face, groaning into his hands. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. How was he going to survive the next fifteen?
Willy continued to lie there as he waited for the chocolate’s effects to wear off, squirming frantically in desperate mirth. What he didn’t see was the shadow of a man right outside his window that he had failed to notice in the excitement of his creation. They perched on the sill, observing him carefully until Willy’s laughter transformed into a few trickling giggles as the effects of the potion wore off.
They watched him as he carefully stood up, still a bit wobbly from the tickling, and walked over to lock up the remaining chocolates on the table in a little sealed jar that he shoved behind some books on his shelf.
It wasn’t until Willy had finally gone to bed that they emerged, shuffling carefully into the room and quietly sneaking over to the bookshelf. They scaled the wood paneling with ease, careful to make sure Willy was still out. The tickling had exhausted him, however, so it seemed, and so the man had no trouble sneaking behind the books and opening the little jar, sticking his orange hand inside.
The Oompa-Loompa smiled as he beheld the ornate sweet. It was true he was no longer conspiring against the chocolatier, but he hadn’t yet lost his penchant for mischief. Besides, it was just tickling—a harmless prank. He shoved the chocolate pieces into his pockets, quickly hopping down from the shelf and sneaking out the window before his plans could be ruined.
He held high hopes that this was going to be an eventful week.
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luvellx · 5 months
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fic recs , timothée chalamet !
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by @lola-la-cava
⤷ if you'll have me
⤷ met'23
⤷ sky full of stars
crayons by @timottea
by @lixzey
⤷ the story of us (series)
⤷ mine, forever mine.
⤷ forever yours.
the photo booth by @hamlets-ak
by @bonesandchalamet
⤷ quite in new york
⤷ lessons in french
⤷ o' christmas
⤷ slumber party
⤷ i miss you i'm sorry
"sleeping mates" by @oneshots-heaven
by @growup-thatbeautiful
⤷ gravitation
⤷ our daughter
for my hand by @catharsisfalls
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ella's note !
hello im back! with yet more fanfics for u guys! in honor of the release of wonka i'm going to be sharing a bunch of my favourite timmy fics i have read! so hope u guys enjoy them! thx for reading, muah<33
p.s the movie was soooo good ^^
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plutoispurplw · 3 months
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୨୧The story of Us ୨୧
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Summary: Reader and Timothee!Wonka are having relationship problems and reader is questioning is this is the end of the story of them.
Words: 1K
Couple: Timothée!Wonka x Female reader
A/N: I only did this one shot because three things.
1- Two Days ago the light in my house was gone.
2- The request of @riordanness
3- I love Taylor Swift, you can count how many times I write a name of a song or a lyric.
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My relationship with Willy was great, we we're crazy in love with each other, he was always affectionate like it was our last day alive. He was the love of my life and I knew it. I know it sounds bad but he is the only person or thing that I ever needed, It was like he convert darkness into daylight.
Our personalities were the opposite, I never had hope in people before I met him, always prepared to be stabbed by close people, nothing calm my racing thoughts, always overthinking, I felt haunted so I leave my tired hometown just to discover that I was the problem.
He was the sun and I was the moon.
When I met him after being trapped by Scrubbit, I felt more helpless that I ever felt but then I met him, three days later after I arrived, he become my best friend and then my lover, I always help him to sell his chocolates, and I stay with him after my debt was paid, he was my daylight.
The work of managing the fabric and his store had him tired all the time and stressed out and that when it happen, our bedroom that was our secret oasis become a battle ground, this was a war that neither of us could end without fighting over and over again.
The only thing I could thought before falling asleep was that if this was the end of the story of us. The fairytale was slowly dying and I couldn't bear witness it.
How long can we still be a sad song? How long the silence would last until one of us leave? I didn't even remember the last time we kissed, or cuddle, or even talk in a affectionate way.
One night I was exhausted of this, I need to feel again his caress and his lips against my collarbone, we were laying on the bed, the silence was still there, I got more closer to him and I try to hug him but he only pull away from my hold and got up from the bed.
I finally explode like a volcano. "I'm tired, why are you avoiding my touch or hugs like I'm something poisonous!" I yell at him while being sat on my knees on the bed.
"Stop, I don't wanna fight tonight, just stop."
He said with a very annoyed tone, his hands running through his hair.
"I'm tired of the silence, I miss when you cuddle with me while whispering sweet nothings against my hair." Tears streaming down my face, memories replaying like broken records. I got up from the bed and walk towards him. "I know that you're stressed out and that you don't wanna fight but we have to fight, if we keep like this out love is gonna die."
"You adore to fight, don't you? You're always want to fight." His voice sound more frustrated, his eyes fill with a anger I never seen before in him, maybe he was like the rest of the people after all.
"This is the last time we fight and I'm gonna go away, this is your last chance to give me a reason to stay because you're losing me."  He stay quiet and didn't say anything, I just change my clothes and pack my things, he didn't do anything to stop me, I wish he would.
When I leave the house, I went to a friend's house, the whole way day I was crying, did I ever meant something to him for him to try to fight for me. I stay the night there waiting for him to come but then days pass and then one week and then became almost a month without seeing him.
This is how the things end? My love story never got they happy ending? It was my fault? I was the problem in this situation too? Thoughts like this filled my mind before falling asleep, my dreams filled with memories of him.
That day I needed to get more clothes and things so I went to our house, when I came into our bedroom I saw him seeing the ceiling, the room look messy, his expression full of sadness when he He saw me, he got up from the bed and walk towards me.
He look like he wanted to talk but how we could talk without screaming at each other? Without yelling that was the others fault. The problem was that I was bleeding and I could just runaway and live but my heart wanted to stay, to try to resolve things even if I bleed more, even if I died.
"I'm sorry, I should fight or talk with you but I couldn't, I didn't want our love to die but in the end that's what happen." I started to cry, part of me wanted just to kiss him but I was still hurt.
"If you don't want to forgive me, don’t do it but please just understand that I love you and that I never wanted to lose you, why would I? You're perfect and you're the love of my life, since I meet you I meet you that day, I knew that it was fate that brought us together." Tears falling from his eyes, his eyes full of sadness, the happiness and daylight was almost gone.
I don't know who did it first but we were hugging each other like we would die if we didn't, my face against his chest wetting his shirt. He whispering apologies against my hair, his hands caressing my back as I cry.
I pull away to see his face, he was crying too, I stood on my tiptoes, my hands cupped his face and pull him closer to close the gap between our lips, when they touched it feel like heaven. The battleground was back again our secret oasis.
This wasn't the end of the story of us, it was just the start of another chapter in our fairytale
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faithiegirl01 · 4 months
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Okay… okay…
I need a Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet version ovi 🙄) Hanahaki Disease fic…
Like could you guys just imagine the angsty vibes yet also the most fluffiest vibes from that?! Like the reader gets sick and decides to slowly just stop helping before also hiding away from Willy as much as she can. While poor Willy over here be all like “I don’t know what happened noodle, one day we were fine and the next she’s avoiding me?!” Then noodle who has obviously figured it out try’s so hard not to tell him at the request of the reader, but then she finds a way to get him to figure it out on his own. When he does obviously he’s running right to the reader to figure it all out.
Like come on?! I must have a fic like this. PLEASE someone, anyone write something along those lines!!!!
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your-nanas-house · 1 month
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May I please request Willy Wonka falling in love with Jewish baker fem!Reader by their exchange of their respective foods (him: chocolates; her: baked goods) as well as love of dancing & literature and Willy proposes to her by quoting two of her favorite Jane Austen novels: “You pierce my soul. I have loved none but you. My heart is, and always will be, yours”? (I’m a romantic sap.)
Made for each other
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◇ Pairing: Willy Wonka X Jewish baker!Reader
◇ Warnings: fluff, romance, shitty writing, love
◇ Summary: Willy is smitten of the jewish baker.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. It's so short sorryyyy. 😭
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Willy really didn't know if it was her looks and pleasant aura that made him fall head over heels... or the sweet scent of her masterpieces created in the little Jewish bakery of hers.
But he honestly didn't cared, he just accepted things as they were.. allowing himself to day-dream and be his little silly self in love.. secretly at first but seen his extroverted persona, it took him little time to approach the woman.
Gosh, she sure was stunning with her love for dance, her passion in literature and her talent in cooking.
She was like.. sweet honey mixed with a tiny bit of liquorice, dark chocolate and a hint of a beautiful.. flower, one that could match her beauty and that delicious smell.
Willy couldn't really resist, his whole self was attracted to her like a metal attracted by a magnet or.. music for a giraffe.
They just clicked together so well, balancing their relationship easily while taking care of each other, supporting their business which because one as soon as Willy managed to create his fabric.
Magic... that's what they created together; magic... of a silly young chocolatier and a young jewish baker.
His friend Noddle saw it as well, reason because she was the main cause that put the fixed idea of marriage in Willy's head. A symbolic and actual bond that would make their relationship become serious.
The issue?... the proposal. Well it wasn't actually a problem for him since his theatrical side came out easily as soon as he saw in front of her.
His chocolate eyes staring deeply in hers as he kneeled down slowly after a whole performance dedicated to her.
"You pierce my soul. I have loved none but you. My heart is, and always will be, yours" he recited as he pulled out a box of chocolate, opening it to reveal a simple but eccentric proposal ring.
"Be mine forever—"
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧
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welcome to the lives of our guardians! where one by one, they all take turns taking mrs claus apart. come join them in all their fun! starring special guests– the elves. special thanks to @mdpplgtz03 and @foxyprincessworld for helping me!
18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate our works. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
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𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - christmas masterlist - easter masterlist
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!warning! these fics will include size differences, innocent kink, age gaps, dirty talk, and possible dark content (depending on the character). all characters/reader are of age.
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒆𝒓 ft santa claus ari levinson.
೫˚🌜❀ *ૢ🌑೫˚🌛
𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕 ft easter bunny logan howlett.
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐌𝐀𝐍:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓 ft sandman andy barber.
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𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑 ft tooth fairy willy wonka.
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𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆 ft jack frost robert pronge.
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𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊:
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 ft pitch black morticia addams.
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𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒:
𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔
೫˚🌜❀ *ૢ🌑೫˚🌛
𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚
೫˚🌜❀ *ૢ🌑೫˚🌛
𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅
೫˚🌜❀ *ૢ🌑೫˚🌛
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captain-lessship · 7 months
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Candy Corn
A/n: and so it begins. Enjoy and forgive me when I undeniably post the rest not on my schedule I have in my head <3
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Even after years of running your candy shop, You were not a sweets person. There was also a theory that you were not a sweet person.
You specifically hated chocolates. Whether they were dark, milk or white, even if they had nuts or dried fruit, you simply did not like it.
But of course, the cocoa based bars followed you where ever you went because everyone else in the world seemed to like it and you liked the money, who wouldn’t?
Yet each time you recognized your dislike of candy, you couldn’t help but think about a few interesting interactions you had seven years ago.
You sighed as you heard the bell to the shop ding, “Hello, Welcome to the House of Haroldson Chocolates, what can I do for you!” You didn’t lift your eyes from the book you were reading until a pair of shoes approached the counter.
You looked up and saw a very odd looking individual. A lanky man with brown hair and greenish eyes that was dressed in odd pattern combinations was standing there, slightly smiling at you.
“Hello! I was just planning on looking around but since you asked, what is your most popular chocolate?”
You looked him up and down, “Well, I guess it would be our dark chocolate with hazelnuts and white chocolate drizzle.”
You were still trying to figure out why he was dressed like that when he spoke again, “What’s your favorite?”
Your favorite? None. But you knew that your dad, who was the owner and therefore your boss, wouldn’t be happy if you said that.
“I’m not really a chocolate person. I prefer these.” You turned around and plucked a random jar from the wall. The jar had pink and yellow striped squares and were very shiny. “These are Strawberry Shortcake Drops.”
“Can I taste one?” He asked, you thought about it before slipping on a glove on one hand and opening the jar with the other. You plucked one of the squares from the container and gave it to the man.
He popped it into his mouth, eyes turning from joyful to very deep in thought, as if he was trying to taste every single grain of sugar and drop of flavoring. He was entertaining to say the least. You couldn’t help but take one yourself and eat it, trying to see if there was something wrong.
Nope. Vanilla. Strawberry. It was right.
“Is this really your favorite? You don’t seem to like it.” He asked.
“If I am being honest, I do not like chocolate or candy.”
He looked surprised at this, “Why?” He couldn’t fathom that someone dressed as fun in a pale pink dress shirt, striped tie and white pants as you were could dislike candy. It just didn’t seem right.
You shrugged, “Just isn’t my thing. But do you like them?”
His brain was temporarily fried over the fact that someone could dislike sweets. “They’re good. Could I get a small bag of them and a bar of the dark chocolate you talked about earlier?”
You nodded as you began getting his order together. He watched you intently as you pulled a bar of chocolate from the case and filled a bag with the candies, noting the care you took with each part of the order.
As you handed it to him and took the money from him, he smiled at you, “I will find a chocolate you’ll like.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, “I don’t like chocolate Mister…”
“Willy Wonka.” He said. He then stole a glance at your name tag. It was a nice name.
“Mister Willy Wonka.” You smiled.
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Text
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞)
"On your knees."
His taunting grin falters, lessens, a flicker of realization crosses his face seeing that she's serious. He squeezes the edge of his desk he's leaned against behind him, clears his throat and raises his chin in defiance.
His pants are still open—from when he'd instructed for them to be undone when she'd already been pulling his dick out; and from when she'd squeezed him hard, causing him to shudder before beginning to pant as she worked him in an unforgivingly tight grip. He had to bite his lip and bite his words as she took over, completely ignoring his previous air of dominace and pumping him like a torturous punishment.
Between his choked breathes then, he knew that she knew he liked it.
Now, his dick bobs after her command; dark curls rest at its base, leading to the little trail up to his naval.
She glares. He swallows, a momentary struggle of fighting for dominance or giving in plays across his face before he nods once and submits, lowering to his knees before her.
From this angle, his heart speeds up and he resists the urge to reach for her. Instead, he softly glares at her as if annoyed.
She runs a hand through his hair. "Good boy," she praises—she teases—and is surprised to spot the glimmer of a plea beside the bewilderment in his eyes and spots his dick jumping at that: He likes this.
Slowly, her hand slides down to craddle his cheek at the same time a knee raises to his shoulder. Wide eyes that boarderline confusion and excitement glance from her thigh to her face.
"I want you to please me."
A shuddery exhales leaves him. His dick jumps again, and stiffens further. With only a half-hearted glare, he adjusts her leg as she balances with a hand on the desk beside them and he pulls up her skirt and pulls aside the bridge of her panties. She isn't wearing pantyhose tonight.
He's trembling the slightest bit as he watches her moisture create a thin line connecting the panties to her warm lips. The panties are slid down her luscious legs to the floor in front of him where she steps out of only one hole. His breaths, hot and shallow and rapid, hit her thigh he does an impatient and quite improper attempt to skim kisses up her thigh.
He burries his face inside her greedily, with groans to match and a tight hold on her ass to keep her there. Her free hand dives into his hair near instantly, her grip tightening as he eats her out selfishly, sloppily, mouth wide and tongue darting, licking, lapping at anything and everything that's her.
Gone is that previous, smug, dominant hat he wore and is instead indulging in a role previously much submerged and hidden.
While pleasing her, his nose presses against her swollen clit and she cries out suddenly, making her grip painfully tight on his hair but he only groans gutterly and pulls her impossibly closer by her ass. Unabashed, he moans against her, the vibrations causing her breath to catch and for her to keen.
There's going to be sore, finger-shaped bruises by the early morning, she knows. He bumps her clit again with his nose, realizes, then does it again purposely, shaking his head for good measure, wanting to pull all types of noises from her—noises he's never heard her make before, noises he hopes she's never made for anyone else. She sounds wonderful, like music and fueling his own lust.
When she's bitten her bottom lip and is humming comfortably, he breaks apart only for a moment to insert a finger into his mouth, wetting it, before sliding the long digit inside her gripping cunt. The instinctual flutter of muscles and the high-pitched gasp of pleasure she elicits fuels his ego and his decision to insert a second finger. And then a third.
He groans about her tightness and ease due to her wetness.
She's whimpering now—a sound he's always imagined to hear from her—and had a death grip on the desk in an attempt to control herself and not aggressively hump his face to orgasm. She's stubborn and doesn't allow herself the self-fullfilling like that often; he notices she's holding back so, while still tapping against her sensitive spot within her gripping, slippery pussy, he rapidly flicks his tongue across her clit, trying to get her there anyway. Harshly presses his tongue against her clit. Sucks it while gazing up at her, almost daring her.
He longs to touch himself, to squeeze his cock and pump out the load that's nearing the brim just from her and this alone, but he doesn't. Instead, his cock stands between his legs, leaking shamefully, suffering, and almost harder than he can stand. Her hand in his hair maneuvers his head to pull back. He flicks his tongue at her clit, laps at her labia, then pushes against her hand to return sucking her off. Every now and then he humps the air pitifully.
High-pitched and lust-filled, she sighs, "Yes! Just like—oh, god! More! Keep on... More!"
Of course, he obeys.
She still stiffles her noises by biting her lip, by pressing her palm to her mouth, by throwing her head back and swallowing her own moans, turning them into breathless sighs and whines.
He laps and flicks and sucks while her hand pulls at his hair unforgivingly—
He longs to have her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing just as tightly—
His eyes flutter at the pain that mixes with his pleasure. His cock is painfully hard, his one hand is soaked in her juices, his other is sunken into plush of her ass, gripping like it's a lifeline. All he can hear and all he can feel and think of and smell is her, her, her.
But just as he's getting completely lost, just as he's thrusting his hips into the air in a pathetic chase for relief, she pulls away. His mouth is forced to disconnect, creating a loud suction. And he's panting—they both are—and he's glistening from his spit and her slick from his nose down his chin, and he looks disheveled overall, with a dazed glaze to his eyes and his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Please," he begs, which she never thought he'd do; it both surprises her and pleases her.
His shirt is rumpled, his hair in disarray, and his pants are still undone. A puddle of precum rests on the floor beneath his exposed, achingly hard cock, the proof of his pent-up frustrations.
Running on autopilot now, his hips thrust into the air once more before a hand of his begins working his cock urgently.
Reaching out for her with his other hand, he repeats, desperate, "Please."
But she backs away out of reach and his hand falls pathetically, him still in that submissive haze.
After wiping her mouth, adjusting her panties, skirt, and outfit, she breaths weakly, "That's it."
He's confused. And so close.
"That was..." She clears her throat, forcing her composure despite her body prickling with arousal heat and her pussy screaming for her to stay. "I'm leaving. I have to go. Have a... Goo—good night."
On unsteady legs and in uncomfortable wetness, she leaves him—still on the floor, still staring after her.
- - - -
it is 6am -_-
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tatumrileyslover · 4 months
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Anyone want to tell me why I’m writing an angsty hunger games fanfic while listening to the new wonka soundtrack and it’s working???
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