#Wonka

[kinascum]

UNDER YOUR SKIN

stalker!Lee x noneater!reader

wc: 1.08k | summary: When does desire become destruction, and how far will you go to feel alive? | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. blood/gore. sexual themes. violence. obsession/manipulation. dark themes. cannibalistic metaphor. stalking. infliction of pain. blood drinking.

You're standing in the rain, the droplets clinging to your eyelashes and making the world blurry. You can't feel the cold, not really, because every inch of your skin is alight with the memory of his touch. You remember the way his fingers traced your spine, the gentle pressure of his mouth against your neck, the warmth of his breath in your ear. Your heart races just thinking about it, your chest tightening, your breath hitching. It's been days since he last held you, but it feels like an eternity.

You know he's watching you from the shadows, his eyes burning with a hunger that's both terrifying and exhilarating. You've seen that look before, in the moments when he thinks you're not looking, when he thinks you can't see the yearning that consumes him. You know what he wants, what he craves. And even though it should repulse you, you find yourself leaning into the darkness, craving the taste of him, the feel of his teeth on your skin. You want to be consumed by him, to become a part of the very essence that makes him who he is.

The rain starts to come down harder, soaking your clothes, making them stick to your body. You shiver, but it's not from the cold. It's from the anticipation, the tension that coils in your stomach like a living thing. You're acutely aware of every inch of your body, every nerve ending singing with the promise of pain and pleasure. You want to call out to him, to tell him to come to you, but you don't. You don't need to. He's already moving, a silent predator in the night, drawn to the scent of your desire.

You feel his presence before you see him, a warmth that pierces through the chill. He's so close now, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your skin. You can smell the coppery scent of his craving, mingling with the musk of his arousal. It's intoxicating, a potent mix that sends your senses reeling. You don't dare to turn around, not yet. You know that when you do, there will be no going back. But you want this, you want him, in a way that defies logic, that defies everything you've ever known. You want to be devoured by him, to be a part of his twisted, beautiful obsession. And when he finally does touch you, when his hands slide around your waist and pull you against him, you know you're lost.

Lee's eyes are a fiery ember in the gloom, boring into yours with a ferocity that steals your breath away. He whispers your name, the sound a dark caress that sends shivers down your spine. His grip tightens, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your neck. You gasp, the sound lost in the patter of the rain. You know he's fighting it, fighting the urge to sink his teeth in and claim you in the most primal way possible. But the battle is a silent one, a war raging just beneath the surface of his self-control. You can feel it in the tremor of his body, the way he's holding himself back. And you want to scream at him to let go, to give in to what he truly wants.

Your heart is racing now, a wild stallion in your chest, galloping towards the precipice of something you can't quite name. It's a feeling that's equal parts terror and ecstasy, a cocktail of emotions that's intoxicating and overwhelming. You lean back into him, arching your neck, silently begging for more. His breath hitches, and you know you've won. The hunger in his eyes is unmistakable now, the beast inside him straining at its leash. But instead of fear, you feel a strange thrill, a pulse of desire that matches the tempo of the rain.

His hand moves up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face towards his. His thumb traces the line of your bottom lip, and you can't help but part them slightly, inviting him in. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, and for a moment, you think he's going to kiss you. But instead, he leans in, his nose brushing against your skin as he inhales deeply. The scent of your blood fills his nostrils, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. He's torn between his love for you and his insatiable hunger. It's a battle that you want to end, a war you want to win. So you take the plunge, tilting your head to the side and exposing the delicate column of your throat. The invitation is clear, and Lee's eyes darken with a need that's so raw it's almost painful to witness.

Slowly, oh so slowly, his mouth descends, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin. You hold your breath, your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the moment when he gives in. And when it comes, it's like a dam bursting, a flood of sensation that drowns out the world around you. His teeth sink into your flesh, and you cry out, the pain a white-hot spark that ignites the kindling of your desire. You feel his tongue swirl around the wound, lapping at the crimson liquid that wells up. And as your blood mixes with his saliva, a strange warmth spreads through you, a sense of belonging that's more profound than anything you've ever experienced. You're no longer just two separate beings; you're one, connected by a bond that's deeper than mere flesh and blood.

The rain continues to fall, a cacophony of whispers around you, as Lee drinks from you, each pull sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You feel lightheaded, your knees threatening to buckle, but his arms are there, supporting you, keeping you upright. This isn't just passion; it's obsession made manifest. And as the storm rages on, you know that you're ready to be consumed by it, to be devoured by the man who has become your everything. The metaphorical cannibalism is no longer a fantasy but a reality, a shared moment of depravity that somehow feels right. Your body responds in ways you never thought possible, every nerve alight with the intensity of his hunger. And as the rain washes away the evidence of your transgression, you know that nothing will ever be the same again. The line between love and obsession has blurred, and you've crossed it willingly, eagerly, into the abyss of his dark desires.

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[starrynightstarrynight]

[doctorcurdlejr]

No Oscar nom for Wonka...academy afraid of wonking? possibly due to woke

[froggos-are-superior]

On the topic of prequels, Willy Wonka could run the Hunger Games but Coriolanus Snow couldn't make chocolate

[tato-potat]

i feel like we're not talking enough about how absolutely bonkers it is that over the span of the next three or so months, we'll see Timothee Chalamet as the star of both Wonka and Dune Part II

like, in one movie, he's a young man with a great and terrible destiny ahead of him, gaining the respect and admiration of an oppressed people to rise to a position of unimaginable religious power and authority, which he then uses to exert unilateral control over a psychoactive substance so powerful that society has no choice but to bow to his will as he steps into a messianic identity that reshapes the world in his name

and in the other he's Paul Atreides

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I know we're all obsessed with the oompa loompa meth lab but I truly can't stop thinking about The Unknown guy. what a character.

[scavengedluxury]

New Balkan coffee shop at 8am just dropped in Glasgow.

[thisgameissonintendo]

timothée chalamet, wonka (2023)

[chimneysweepghost]

💬 i want to wonk your world

💬 can i wonk your world?

💬 i want to wonk your world

💬 time to wonk your world

💬 you ready for me to wonk your world

[kinascum]

STUPID LAMB ⋆ ˚｡⋆

feyd-rautha x captive!reader

wc: 4.9k | summary: each brutal encounter leaves you craving more, trapped in his twisted game of dominance. | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE. noncon/dubcon. captivity/imprisonment. weapon use. substance use/drugging (not described but come on, it's the harkonnens, babe). murder/death (mentions "the attack," which is just an attack on the hkns, where most are defeated resulting in their death). blood/gore. mental health issues (or just a warning for feyd atp). sexual exploitation. forced nudity. BDSM (non-consensual).

A/N: first fic kinda nervous >.<

You're sitting in a cold, dimly lit room, the stench of fear thick in the air. The walls seem to close in around you as the echoes of distant screams reach your ears. Your heart races as you await the inevitable. The door creaks open, and in strides a figure that sends shivers down your spine—Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, his bald head gleaming under the flickering light, his eyes piercing into the depths of your soul. The very essence of his presence is a declaration of malice and dominance.

He towers over you, his booted footsteps echoing ominously on the metal floor. His handsome yet twisted face contorts into a sneer as he takes in your trembling form. You're a mere pawn in his grand scheme, a piece of information to be squeezed until you burst. But there's something else in his gaze—a hunger, a craving that makes your stomach churn and your nether regions clench in a mix of dread and unwelcome arousal.

Feyd leans in, his breath hot and minty against your face. "So, you're the one they say survived the attack," he rasps, his voice a deadly caress. His eyes rove over your body, noting every detail, every tremble. "I've got a few questions for you, and I expect answers," he says, the edge of his mouth curling into a smirk. "But I'm sure we can find... other ways to make this conversation more enjoyable."

You feel a surge of panic rising in your chest. You know nothing about the attack, nothing that could be of use to him. But as you try to protest, his hand clamps down on your throat, not hard enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your words come out in a squeak. His grip tightens, and his eyes bore into yours, demanding truth. "You will tell me everything," he growls, his thumb tracing a line down to your collarbone. "And if you don't, I'll just have to make you talk another way."

The room spins as his free hand reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it up roughly. You try to resist, but his strength is overwhelming. He slaps you—once, twice, three times—each blow sending shockwaves through your body. "Stay still," he hisses, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You don't get to enjoy this." But you can't help the way your breath hitches, the way your skin burns where he's touched you.

Feyd's hand moves to the button of your pants, popping it open with a cruel flick of his thumb. He shoves them down your legs, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over you with a possessive glint. "On your knees," he commands, his voice thick with desire. You hesitate, but the pressure on your throat increases. You have no choice but to comply.

As you kneel before him, you can't help but notice the bulge in his pants. You know what's coming next, and your body reacts despite yourself. He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to look up at him. "Open," he says, his voice a low growl. You obey, feeling his spit hit your tongue. The taste is salty and metallic, and you want to gag, but instead, you swallow, the action making your eyes water.

He smirks, pleased with your submission. "Good," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. He releases your hair, and you feel his hand move to his belt. The sound of it unbuckling echoes in the room, and you know you're in for a world of pain. But deep down, amidst the fear, there's a spark of something else—desire. You know it's wrong, you know you should be terrified, but there's a part of you that craves this depravity.

When his cock springs free, it's massive, thick and veiny. You can't help but stare, your mouth watering despite the situation. He grips it in his hand, stroking it slowly as a drop of his own spit falls on the glistening head. "you're not challenged, are you?" he asks, his voice taunting as he watches you do essentially nothing. "You want me to fuck your pretty little mouth until you can't think straight." You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the wetness between your legs gives you away.

He grabs your chin, tilting your head up. "Look at me," he says, his eyes burning into yours. "Beg for it." You want to resist, but the pressure in your throat is unbearable. "P-please," you whimper, hating the way the word sounds, you convince yourself you're pleading for him to stop. "Please,"

Feyd laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends chills down your spine. "That's more like it," he says, and then he's pushing into your mouth, his cock filling you until you gag. You try to pull away, but his hand is tight on the back of your head, holding you in place. "Take it," he snarls, and you have no choice but to do as he says.

The feeling of his cock in your mouth is overwhelming, a mix of revulsion and arousal that makes your head spin. You can feel his hands in your hair, guiding you, forcing you to take more and more of him in. He's so rough, so violent, and it's terrifying and exhilarating all at once. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, but the way he uses you, the way he makes you feel so utterly powerless—it's intoxicating.

He pulls out, and you're left gasping for air, tears streaming down your face. But he's not done with you yet. "You're going to beg for me to fuck you," he says, his voice a sinister promise. "You're going to beg like the little peasant you are." His hand moves to his cock again, stroking it slowly as he watches you.

You shake your head, trying to deny the words that are forced out of you. "N-no," you stammer, your voice hoarse from his rough treatment. But the look in his eyes, the way he smirks, tells you that he's going to get what he wants. And deep down, you know you want it too.

He grabs your hair again, tilting your head back so you're staring up at the ceiling. His other hand fists in the fabric of your shirt, ripping it open to expose your breasts. He leans in, his teeth grazing your neck as he whispers, "Go on,"

You feel his hot breath against your skin, and your body responds in ways you never thought possible. "P-please," you start, your voice shaking. "Please, My Lord, take me." It's the first time you've adressed him, and it feels like a betrayal, like you're giving him a piece of yourself that you can never take back.

He chuckles, a dark sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "That's better," he says, and then his mouth is on your breast, biting down hard. You cry out, the pain mingling with the pleasure that's building in your core. His tongue flicks over the sensitive flesh, soothing the ache before he bites again, harder this time.

His hand releases your throat, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving. He notices your reaction and takes it as a sign of encouragement. "Hm," he hums satisfied, his voice a dark purr. "Keep begging."

Your mouth opens, and the words tumble out, a desperate plea for him to take you. "Please, Na-Baron, I need it. I need you to ruin me." The words are barely coherent, but he understands. He steps closer, his cock brushing against your cheek, leaving a trail of precum.

He takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. "You're mine now," he says, his eyes full of lust and possession. "Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to ruin." And with that, he pushes you onto the cold, hard table, your wrists and ankles strapped down with leather cuffs that bite into your skin.

Your heart races as you feel the head of his cock nudge against your wet, swollen pussy. You can't believe you're about to let this monster inside you, but your body seems to have a mind of its own. You arch your back, silently begging for it.

He teases you, sliding the tip along your slit before pushing in just a little. "Beg for it," he says again, his voice a demand. And so, you do. "Please, please, just spare me," you whimper, the need in your voice undeniable, but in reality you're begging for it to stop, or for him to just kill you, you can't tell anymore.

With a triumphant smile, he thrusts deep, filling you completely. You scream, the pain indistinguishable. His grip on your hips is like iron, holding you in place as he starts to move, each thrust sending a jolt of agony through your body. But it's a sweet agony, a delicious torment that you never knew existed.

You can feel your orgasm building, and you know it's going to be powerful. You try to hold it back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but it's no use. You're at his mercy, a toy for his sadistic games. "Cum for me," he orders, his voice harsh. "Cum on my cock."

You feel your body tighten, your muscles clenching around him. You're so close, so close to the edge. And then, with one final, brutal thrust, you're over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. He grunts, his own release following shortly after, filling you with his warm seed.

As he pulls out, you can't help but feel a sense of loss, as if a part of you has been claimed by this monster. Your vision blurs with the mix of pain and pleasure, and you realize that the line between the two has been obliterated. You lay there, panting, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. Feyd stands over you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with victory.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asks, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You shake your head, trying to deny it, but your body betrays you. You can feel your pussy still pulsing around his cum, the evidence of your climax a stark reminder of what just happened. "Don't lie," he says, his grip tightening. "I can smell it."

The tears stream down your face, mixing with the spit and sweat. You want to hate him, to despise him for what he's done, but you can't. Some twisted part of you craves the pain, the degradation. He leans in, his mouth hovering just above yours. "Say it," he demands. "Tell me you liked it."

Your voice is barely a whisper when you finally give in. "I liked it," you murmur, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. His smile widens, and he releases your hair, letting your head fall back onto the table. He grabs a handful of your spit-slicked hair again, jerking your head to the side. "Good," he says, his voice low and predatory. "Now, let's see if you can handle more."

You feel his hand move between your legs, his fingers pushing into your still-throbbing cunt. He's rough, almost painful, but you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to take it all," he says, his voice a dark promise. "Every inch of me, until you're screaming for mercy."

He flips you over, so you're face down on the table, your ass in the air. He slaps it, hard, and you jump. "Spread your legs," he orders, and you do, feeling his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart. His cock nudges against your entrance, and you tense, not sure if you can handle another round. But he's relentless, pushing into you without warning, filling you up once again.

His thrusts are deep and hard, each one sending a shock of pain through your body. You try to scream, but his hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the sound. "You take what i give you," he grunts, his voice strained with his own need. "Ungrateful slut"

The room is a blur of pain and pleasure, his slaps and grunts the only sounds in your world. You can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his every demand. Your mind screams for it to stop, but your body arches back, begging for more.

His hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. "You're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine, mine, mine." The chant sends a shiver down your spine, and you know it's true. You're lost in the depravity, a willing participant in his twisted games.

And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used. He steps back, his cock glistening with your juices. "Get dressed," he says, his voice cold and detached. "You're not done yet."

You struggle to sit up, your body aching and sore. You pull your pants up, wincing as the fabric scrapes against your sensitive skin. You know that the bruises will form soon, a constant reminder of what happened here. But as you look up at him, you can't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation. You're not sure what's coming next, but you know it's going to be just as terrifying and exhilarating as what's already occurred.

Feyd watches you, his eyes never leaving your body. "You'll be back," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "And next time, you'll be ready to tell me everything."

You nod, too scared to speak, too overwhelmed by the experience to do anything but obey. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender. "Good mutt," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "I'll be looking forward to our next meeting."

The door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cold, silent room. You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. Your body feels used, above abused, but there's a part of you that craves more. You know it's wrong, that you should be disgusted by what just happened, but you can't ignore the heat that still pools in your core.

You finish dressing, wincing as the fabric of your shirt brushes against your bruised skin. You can still feel his cum inside you, a constant reminder of his dominance. You try to stand, but your legs wobble, and you sit back down on the edge of the table. You're not sure how long you stay there, trying to process what's happened. But eventually, you force yourself to move.

You walk out of the room, your head held high despite the pain and the tears that threaten to spill over. You know you're not going anywhere—not until Feyd says so. But for now, you're free. Or as free as you can be in this prison of his making.

As you stumble through the hallways, you can't help but feel changed. The fear that once consumed you has been replaced by something else—a need, a hunger. You know he'll be watching you, waiting for you to slip up, waiting for the next time he can take you apart. And you know, deep down, that you'll be eagerly awaiting it.

You find yourself back in your cell, the cold, hard bed a stark contrast to the warmth of Feyd's body. You lie down, feeling the ache between your legs, the stickiness on your skin. You touch yourself, tentatively at first, then with more urgency. You can't get the feel of him out of your head, his cruel words echoing in your ears.

You moan, the sound barely audible as your fingers work you closer and closer to another orgasm. It's not the same without him, but it's something. Something to hold onto until the next time he decides to play his twisted games with you. And as you finally come, you whisper his name into the darkness, a silent declaration of your newfound submission.

The days that follow are a blur of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. You're subjected to his whims, his every demand met with a mix of dread and anticipation. Each time he enters your cell, you know what's to come—the slaps, the choking, the brutal fucking that leaves you trembling and begging for more.

You're not sure how long it's been, but it feels like an eternity. Time has lost all meaning in this place. All you know is Feyd, his touch, his voice, his cock. He's become your world, the center of your existence. And as much as you hate it, as much as you know you should fight, you find yourself craving the next time he'll come for you.

One evening, the door opens, and there he is again. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel a thrill of terror and excitement. "Ready to talk?" he asks, his voice a low purr. But you know that's not what he really wants. You shake your head, your eyes wide with fear and longing. "No," you murmur, your voice trembling. "I—I can't."

He smiles, a cold, calculating smile that makes your stomach drop. "That's what I thought," he says, moving towards you. "But don't worry, I have other ways of making you speak." And with that, he grabs you, pulling you onto the bed, his hands rough as he strips you bare.

This time, he's slower, more deliberate. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your trembling body. He kisses you, his mouth bruising your lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, and it only makes you wetter. His hand moves down to your pussy, his fingers sliding through your slickness. You can't help but whimper, your body betraying you once again.

He pulls away, his eyes gleaming with a dark excitement. "so wet for me," he says, his voice a soft growl. "A pet so eager to be used." His thumb circles your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You try to push his hand away, but he's too strong. Instead, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more.

Feyd's smile widens, and he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to worship my name," he whispers, his words a promise of pain and pleasure. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. But it's no use. You're his to do with as he pleases, and your body knows it.

He adds a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what's to come. You whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You're going to shut up" he says, his voice a dark purr. "And you're going to take my cum"

He pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty. You whine, your body craving his touch. But before you can protest, he's pushing into you again, his cock thick and hard. You feel yourself stretching around him, the sensation both agonizing and exquisite. He moves slowly at first, savoring the feel of your tight pussy clenching around him. But soon, the need takes over, and he starts to pound into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain through your body.

You can't hold back anymore. You scream, his name ripped from your throat in a ragged cry. He loves it, his eyes lighting up with sadistic glee. "That's it," he says, his voice a harsh grunt as you dig into his skin, dark blood staining your fingertips and dead skin finding solace under your nails. "Make me bleed"

As he fucks you, you can feel yourself losing control, your thoughts spiraling into a haze of sensation. You don't know if you're begging for him to stop or to go harder. All you know is that you need this, that you're addicted to the way he makes you feel.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he reaches his peak, filling you up with his cum. You feel it spurt deep inside you, the heat of it making your toes curl. Your own orgasm follows, a powerful wave that crashes over you, leaving you gasping for air.

When he pulls out, you collapse onto the thin mattress, your body spent and trembling. He stands over you, stroking his cock, watching the mixture of his seed and your blood dribble out of you. "Lord," he says, his voice a low growl. "A sight for sore eyes, huh?"

You look up at him, tears in your eyes. You know you should be disgusted, should be fighting back. But instead, all you can do is nod. You're his, in every way that matters.

He wipes his cock clean on your thigh, a final act of dominance. "Now, tell me," he says, his voice cold and calculating. "What do you know about the attack?"

And for the first time, you realize that the interrogation isn't over. The fear comes rushing back, but it's tinged with something else—a strange, twisted excitement. You know that no matter what you say, he'll always find a reason to take you again. And a part of you wonders if, deep down, you want him to.

The door opens, and two guards enter the room. "Take her away," Feyd says, his voice bored. "I'm done here."

You're dragged out of the room, your body bruised and sore. But as you're thrown back into your cell, you can't help but think about the next time he'll come for you. And a shiver of anticipation runs through you, a promise of what's to come.

This is your new reality, a cycle of pain and pleasure, fear and desire. And as much as you hate it, you can't help but crave it. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen has claimed you, and there's no escape from his sadistic games.

As you lie on the cold, hard bed, you can still feel him inside you, his cum leaking out of you. You touch yourself, the ache between your legs a reminder of what happened. And you know that no matter what, you'll never truly be free of him. You're his now, his plaything, his whore. And as you drift off into an uneasy sleep, you whisper his name, a silent promise to submit to his every whim.

[kirstythejetblackgoldfish]

[catchymemes]

[highwaylife]

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET - A SMALL FILMOGRAPHY GLIMPSE (2014-PRESENT)

[your-averagewriter]

“Hearts for a sweetheart.”

Summary: Bumping into a sweet chocolatier evolves into something even sweeter (Timothée Chalamet!Willy Wonka x fem!reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Kissing, swearing (once I think).

-

-

Walking along the street, I’m interrupted by a sea of cheers as a man in an elaborate get-up passes around chocolates and sweets with a strong smile. As he walks through the crowd, people push forward, reaching for the chocolates forcing me forward, almost causing me to fall to the ground.

After nearly tripping over from the force of the crowd, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to look at the person, steadying myself.

“Are you alright, miss?” The extravagant man asks.

Looking over him I can’t help but smile a little at his top hat and jacket, finding it endearing combined with his gentle nature.

“I’m okay.” I say as he helps me stabilise myself.

“Would you like a chocolate?” He asks with a new kind of smile, a toothy grin as he extends his arm, a tray of chocolates decorating the plate.

“Thank you but I can’t afford your fancy chocolates.” I deny, looking down a little ashamed as the crowds of people still surround us although they’ve quietened down a bit now.

“They’re free. No price for you, or anyone.” He pauses after saying ‘you’, seemingly forgetting the rest of his sentence.

“Really?” He nods and I reach to take one gently. “Thank you, mister…” I pause, not knowing his name.

“Mr Wonka, chocolatier.” He grins as he tips his hat towards me with a smile.

“Thank you Mr Wonka, the chocolatier.” I smile before seeing him disappear back into the crowds.

I only see him a couple more times as he looks back at me with a smile plastered on his face, his top hat sticking out above the crowds making me chuckle before putting the small chocolate into my mouth, resting it delicately on my tongue.

Closing my mouth, I start to chew the chocolate, truly surprised by the delicious treat. It’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. I try to savour it but it’s gone too soon, making me wish it would last forever.

Mr Wonka, a name I would not soon forget, in fact I couldn’t stop thinking about the man: his chocolates, his fashion and most of all his endearing, sweet nature. Walking through the streets, making my way home I ponder whether I would see him again or how. He must have a shop or a stall or something similar, maybe with the other chocolate stores? It doesn’t seem like he’d fit in with those pretentious sellers who seem to have no love for the art of food, let alone chocolate.

After a couple of weeks I had saved up some coins, not enough to get me more than one chocolate I doubt, but it'd be worth it both for the delicious chocolate and to see him again. With my coins in my pocket, I wander through the town centre, keeping my eyes out for the chocolatier but I don’t spot him.

Making it to the palace of chocolate stores I begin to feel the cold nipping at my skin, regretting not bringing my jacket. I walk through the doors, feeling very fancy as I do so, looking at the patterned floors and incredible glass dome roof.

Feeling a slight shiver I hurry along, looking to the stores and suddenly seeing a new store: Wonka. Upon seeing the name I make my way towards the store, taking in the beautiful design and calligraphy.

Walking in I’m instantly taken aback by the extraordinary interior, colourful candy delights disguised as nature causing me to gasp. Frozen, I stand in the door probably looking quite shocked as after a few seconds I feel a tap on my shoulder causing me to turn around, eyes going a little wide at the slight shock.

“Hello miss.” I turn around to see Mr Wonka smiling. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again.”

“You remember me?” I ask, tilting my head slightly confused.

“Of course I do, I only regret that I didn’t ask your name last time we met.”

“(y/n), Mr Wonka.”

“Ah, call me Willy, last names are too formal for me.” He chuckles and I nod before looking around.

“Your store is incredible.” I say, looking around awe-struck.

“Why thank you, would you like a tour?” 

“You’ve probably got more important things to do…” I say quietly with a soft smile.

“Nonsense! What could be more important than showing a woman as lovely as yourself around?” He asks with a charming smile. “Now, what kind of chocolate do you like?”

I think about it for a second, realising how long it’s been since I’ve had chocolate, excluding the last time I bumped into Willy. “The normal kind of chocolate?” I say, unsure.

“Normal kind?” He raises an eyebrow playfully. “Milk chocolate?” I nod.

“I think so, the chocolate you gave me last time was delicious, the best I’ve ever tasted.” I smile.

“Thank you, that means more than you realise.” He says softly, a tone of sincerity. “I’ll make you something special.” He grins. “Do you want to look around for a minute? I won’t keep you waiting too long.” He smiles, I nod before he seems to disappear before I even realise.

I walk towards the river watching as the boat goes round and round, the mechanisms seem incredible. Crouching down by the river I reach for a flower, inspecting the treat before taking a tentative bite from the petal. I let out a sigh, the treat tasting even better than I thought it would. Standing back up I take the flower with me, nibbling on the petals as I walk around the store, in awe at all the beautiful decorations.

A few seconds later, Willy pops up from out of nowhere, startling me slightly but with a small box in his hand.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He offers a small smile. He removes the lid from the box revealing a set of three chocolate hearts with delicate piping on top.

“Wow, these are beautiful.” I say, staring at the artwork.

“Hearts for a sweetheart,” He grins, flustering me a little.

“Thank you… How much do these cost?” I ask, trying not to be awkward but failing.

“Nothing, well except that I get to see your reaction, I think you’ll like them. I based them off of the chocolate you had a couple of weeks ago but made them better.”

“Are you sure? I have some coins.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out some coins but fumbling them leading multiple to fall to the ground. “Shit, sorry…” I say quietly before crouching down and reaching for the coins.

Willy does the same helping me pick up the coins as his hand accidentally brushes against mine. We both look up at each other before I look away embarrassed. He holds my hand, turning it over and placing the coins in my hand before folding my hand, covering the coins. He brings my hand up to his face, pressing his lips against my wrist with a small smile.

“Thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says as we both stand up again, I slide my coins back into my pocket.

He offers me the box and I take one of the three heart chocolates and place it in my mouth. 

“Oh my god, you’re a genius.” I sigh, enjoying the chocolate. “These are incredible.”

“Thank you.” He grins, a proud expression on his face. “Would you like anything else? A buttercup? Cotton candy cloud? Cherries? Gummy bears?” He shoots off options one after the other at a quick speed.

“What would you recommend?” I ask, tentatively.

“Please follow me.” He smiles, leading me around the store to a patch of flowers. Crouching down, he plucks a few flowers, matching them by colour and tying them to make a chocolate bouquet before passing it to me.

“It’s beautiful.” I smile. He pulls out one more flower and tucks it behind my ear.

“Don’t worry, that’s a real flower.” He reassures me with a soft smile.

“Thank you.” I say softly. 

“They’re chocolate, one’s white, dark and the other milk so you can work out what you like.” He says gently arranging the flowers. “Then you can come back and I can make you some more.” He chuckles. “The more information you can give me, the better the chocolate will taste!” 

“Thank you, Willy, but I should get going now, I didn’t realise it had gotten so dark…” I say quietly as I look outside.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He shrugs as we walk towards the door and I start to feel the cold breeze against my skin. “Are you cold?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

“A little, I should’ve brought my jacket.” I dismiss with a small smile. “I’ll see you around, Willy.” I say, stepping out of the door and walking away.

About a second later, I hear him speak again. “(y/n) wait!” He says and I turn around as he walks towards me, pulling off his long magenta jacket and sliding over my shoulder.

“Now you’ll get cold.” I chuckle, pulling the coat around me a little tighter.

“I’m okay, I was getting a bit warm anyway.” He smiles before looking behind me into the night. “Can I walk you home?” He asks, sweetly. 

“You want to walk me home? I don’t live very close to your store…”

“Even more reason for me to walk with you.”

“Okay, if you’d like to, I won't stop you.” I smile brightly as he walks next to me.

“You know, you look really beautiful when you smile.” He says which only makes me smile more.

“Stop.” I chuckle. 

“But it’s true.” He smiles. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” He says in a gentle but more serious tone.

“Thank you.” I whisper looking up to him before resting my head on his shoulder as we walk. “You’re really an incredible guy.”

“Ah, I just make chocolate.” He chuckles.

“Really good chocolate.” I smile. “And you make it look really pretty and your shop is incredible. I’ll have to come by more often.”

“I’d like that.” He pauses “May I hold your hand?” He asks gently after a short pause and I reach my hand out to his

Once we reach my home, I turn around to face him.

“This is me.” I smile. “I’m sorry you had to walk so far.”

“It was worth it.” He brings my hand to his face, pressing his lips against my hand again.

“Here, let me get your coat.” I say, beginning to slide the coat off of my shoulders but he stops me.

“Keep it, it gives you a reason to come back and see me again.” He says with a small smirk.

“Sneaky, very sneaky.” I chuckle, letting the jacket rest on my shoulders. “Get home safe.” I smile, as he begins to walk away. 

It takes me a few seconds to fight my thoughts off before I call for him.

“Willy?” He turns around to face me, standing about eight steps away.

I walk quickly towards him, pressing my lips against his briefly before pulling away. “I’ll see you in a few days.” I whisper with a soft smile.

“You’re not gonna see me for a few days after pulling that stunt?” He asks with a playful expression causing me to chuckle and nod. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again.” He smiles brightly.

“I won’t keep you waiting too long.” I smile before going inside my house, shutting the door after he walks out of sight. I let out a breath as I have to fight a smile, excited to see the chocolatier again.

-

AN: I love this movie with my whole heart!

Hope you enjoyed reading!

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--