#mathew baynton x reader

[bubjuice]

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡☆♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Felix Fickelgruber x fem!Reader HCS

!Warning(s)! Smut

(Also i wrote this instead of sleeping so im sorry if its crap)

♡~Romantic hcs~♡

- He is going to buy you expensive gifts whether you like it or not (man's is just extra)

- Every week he takes you to dinner with him at very fancy restaurants, so you can just chat, and have a moment to yourselves.

- He LOVES to spoil you, i mean the man has a lot of money to spend and a person that he loves so dearly that means he would buy the moon if you asked him to.

- With that in mind he just loves when you show him everything you bought ESPECIALLY clothes, he loves to see you trying it on for him and giving his on private fashion show.

- he is not a person very prone to cuddles but he finds it rather nice, so most of the time he just sleeps in his side of the bed and you would have to be the one to actually initiate contact.

- he definitely taught you how to dance at some point (totally not based out of that part in sweet tooth where dances with the policeman)

- He loves when you cook him homemade meals, makes him all fuzzy and warm inside, and even more if they are homemade sweets (for his massive sweet tooth)

- he gets so flustered when you call him a pet name in public, even more if its in front of the other members of the chocolate cartel, it's honestly adorable.

- Sometimes when he goes past some store and he sees a necklace, jewelry or even clothing that he finds strikingly beautiful, he just cant help it but buy it for you, and most of the time is something extremely expensive (I mean, he does have a refined taste but he probably also has a bit of a shopping problem...just a bit.)

♡~Smut hcs~♡

- Acts like he would be a top but in reality is a bratty sub

- I mean he can top if you ask him nicely (or push the right buttons...) but most of the time he just loves when you do all the work to make him scream with pleasure.

- But that doesnt mean he doesnt do anything in return, he would love to do anything you ask him to, but his favorite way of rewarding you is to eat you out like he's been starving for days on end (he just goes crazy when you ride his face)

- Loves to be tied with whatever you choose (Handcuffs, Rope, His own tie, doesnt matter)

- Loves to buy you expensive lingerie, he just goes wild when he knows you're wearing them

- one day after you two had sex in his office you ended up having to leave in a hurry and left your panties behind somewhere in his office and then just completly forgot about it, after that Felix developed an habit of always having at least one of your panties hidden in a drawer close by, so he can jerk off whenever he wants with the tought of you in mind.

- I just know this man whimpers during sex, i just can see it perfectly.

- If you tease him in public he just becomes a stuttering mess and can't even think straight, or form a coherent train of tought, he says he hates it (but secretly he doesnt)

- i feel like he would not be a big fan of hickeys or bite marks, due to the fact that it would be too noticiable and we all know how much he cares for his appearence so it deppends on where you would mark, but he's not totally against it as long as he can easily cover it up.

- he has an obsession with your legs, and he is easily turned on by it, loves to kiss them until he reaches your inner thighs.

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

~

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

“Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

~

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn’t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.

[sunnyy3d]

Bingley Is the One|Thomas Thorne x Reader

A/N: I hope this is good and people like it cause it took me forever to write… Requests open!

"Thomas, what are you talking about? Bingley is obviously better than Mr. Darcy!" This is so stupid. I can't even believe that we are having this argument, but Thomas just has to be persistent. Of course he would say that Darcy is better; he has been acting just like him!

"Darcy is clearly better! He's much more sophisticated and mysterious than Bingley. Plus, he gets the girl," he argues. Really? That's his point?

"That is so stupid, Thomas. Bingley gets the girl too! You know what? I am done with this conversation, it is pointless," I exclaim before I storm out. I really wish I could slam doors right now. It just makes me so angry! What is wrong with him?! Does he have to be so annoying? I finally reach my room, for once glad that I do not have to change or get ready for bed. With a sigh, I tiredly plop into bed and fall asleep for the night.

I wake up with a yawn and look over to the bedside table. The antique clock on top of it tells me that I overslept. Allison would be having breakfast by now, so I need to hurry because if I do not, I will miss talking to her before she leaves for work.

Allison has been a massive help as of late. She has been listening to me complain about how Thomas has been acting and offering me advice, though it hasn't gotten us anywhere. I smile as I enter the dining room, "Good morning, Allison!" I look around to see no other ghosts bothering Allison this morning. That's perfect. I can talk to her in solitude.

"Good morning," Allison greets, "you're unusually chipper."

"Oh, you know me! A great nights rest after yet another futile argument with Thomas," I retort. Allison sighs and gives me a dejected look as she pours her cup of coffee. "I do not get it, Allison. What ever happened to the old Thomas! That one was just fine! He was nice and considerate. Now this one is trying to say that Darcy is better than Bingley."

She shrugs, "Well everyone is entitled to their own opinion."

"But that is the thing! I heard him talking to Julian about how he liked Bingley more than Darcy. So, why is he lying to me? Is he just trying to start an argument?" I sit in the pulled-out chair with a frown, crossing my legs.

Allison sits across from me with her coffee and breakfast. Oh, how I wish I could eat breakfast. "Hm, that is weird. What's weirder is that he was talking to Julian, of all people, about Pride and Prejudice. I don't know, something is off."

I shake my head, "Is it me? What made him change?"

"No! Of course it's not you. You haven’t done anything but be kind. Well, before he changed… But at the same time, I'm not sure what caused this. Maybe I can ask Julian." She's finished her breakfast now, her chair screeching as she stands up to put her dish in the sink.

I give her a small smile, "Thank you, Allison. You are a big help. I guess you have to go to work now, huh?" She cocks her head with a thin smile and a hum, as if to apologize for having to leave. I walk her to the door, as she makes me promise to update her on the situation when she gets home.

I sigh as I head to the family room. Right before I reach the door, I hear Thomas' voice, which makes me hesitate. Do I really want to deal with another fight this early in the morning? I am already upset about the entire situation. In my moment of hesitation, I realize that Thomas is whispering to Julian. Why is he whispering? There is no harm in listening in, right?

"I don't know, mate, but that's on you. Just go up to her and kiss her or something, everyone knows that you like her," Julian teases. I feel my heart drop. Who are they talking about?

"Are you crazy? Don't say that," Thomas whisper-yells.

"Just talk to her. She doesn't bite," Julian jokes.

"You don't know that, " Thomas replies seriously, "You've clearly never had an argument with her." Oh. They are talking about me. I think I will just go now, maybe to the lake. Thomas may have that window as his sighing place, but the lake is mine. It's so calming to watch the waves.

Why am I disappointed that Thomas does not like me? I should know that by now. I mean, he has been starting arguments with me for over a month now. Do I like Thomas? I cannot; I despise the way he acts. Or at least I do now. I liked him before he changed. I would have considered us at least friends, but he must not have liked me that much. I do not understand what happened though. He acted just fine; he was kind and caring and ever so sweet to me. And then he was not. He started ignoring me and brushing me off. And those are just the tip of the iceberg.

But here I am, sulking because he said he did not like me when he has made it so obvious. How long have I liked him and not realized? Did he ever realize? Is that why he changed? Did he recognize that I had deeper feeling for him that he did not reciprocate?

Before I realize it, the sun is setting. I have been so lost in my thoughts, trying to calm myself by watching the tranquil clouds and rippling waves, but it has not worked. I had no idea that I have been sitting here for hours. To be fair, there's not much else to do when you're dead. Suddenly, I hear a twig snap from behind me. Whipping around, I spot Thomas. Of course. "Not now, Thomas. I'm really not in the mood.” He sits down anyway. "I'm serious," I warn.

"Can I please have just a moment? This is quite important."

"If it is imoportant." I shan’t look at him. I cannot let him see how this is affecting me.

"I have been searching for you all day, you know. I am not sure why I didn't check here first."

"Please, skip the pleasantries and get on with it. I have a feeling I know what this is about anyway." I shake my head, trying not to cry. I had not cried this entire time; but of course, now that he's here, the tears have come. Hopefully, they will fall and blend in with the lake.

"You do?" questions Thomas.

"Yeah, I heard you talking with Julian. I know he was messing with you about liking me. Do not worry, I know it's not true."

Thomas lets out a light scoff. "Then you must not have heard the entire conversation. I do like you."

"I already told you that I am not in the mood for joking."

"I am not joking! I really do like you," Thomas argues.

Thomas ducks his head, trying to put himself in my line of sight. And for the first time since the start of this conversation, I look at Thomas. Tears are rolling down my face. "Then why have you been treating me like this? I do not think there has been a single day where we have not argued."

"I will admit that I made a grave mistake. I listened to Julian's advice.”

"Why would you do that?" I scoff.

"Because I wished to impress you. I was so desperate at the time and I thought you would not like me. So, I tried to be someone that I wasn't. I wish to blame Julian but it is on me. I cannot fathom why I thought that you would like what Julian made me out to be. I apologize for the way I have treated you. I can see how much I have hurt you, and I understand if you do not return my feelings." Thomas reaches his hand to my face to wipe away my tears, and I can't help but lean into his touch.

Holding his hand to my face, I explain, "I will say that the way you have treated me has hurt, but I understand now. You should have just talked to me in the first place." Thomas drops his hand to face me entirely, and I miss the warmth.

"I realize that now. I'm not sure why I ever listened to Julian in the first place. He made me believe that you would like Darcy more than Bingley, and that says a lot."

"How does he even know who Darcy and Bingley are?" I chuckle.

Thomas laughs heartily at that comment, "I had to explain the characters to him. I was trying to explain how I was more of a Bingley than a Darcy."

I look him in the eyes, smiling. "Well, it is a good thing that you now know that Bingley is the one for me."

"Really?" Thomas asks with a broad smile across his face.

"Yes! Thomas, I liked who you were before Julian’s tutalage. If you can go back to being yourself, that would make me more than ecstatic."

Thomas jumps forward, clasping his hands in mine, "Of course, I would do anything for you!"

I laugh, resting my head on his shoulder so that we can watch the sun finish setting together, "That's more like it."

[bethsvrse]

PAIRING Thomas Thorne x fem!ghost!reader

A/N I’ve been obsessed with bbc ghosts recently and basically fell in love with Thomas so I just had to write something for him. This is not proof read and most likely has shitty grammar as I literally wrote this in my maths class 😭

WARNINGS kissing?? Peer pressure ig

Thomas didn’t understand why it was so difficult to get Alison under the mistletoe. Each time he had tried today, he had failed miserably and it’s making him so frustrated. Thomas currently had his face shoved into the Captain’s thigh, his body in an uncomfortable position as the two were playing twister, a game Alison got Pat for Christmas.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alison standing at the door frame, right under the mistletoe. Thomas tried to call out to, desperately, but it was muffled due to his position. Thomas rolled his eyes, giving up a kiss with Alison was absolutely and positively not worth it for this terrible game, so he quickly got out of the position and walked (basically ran) towards the door, but alas, Alison was already walking away.

A loud gasp suddenly echoed through the room, and Thomas looked towards Kitty. “You two are under the mistletoe.” She said. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, but turned his head to see you trying to walk away from under the door, but Kitty called out again. “Stop! You have to kiss now, Y/N!”

“Kitty…” Y/N said, “we don’t have to kiss. It’s just silly tradition.”

Thomas laugh, although it sounded quite un-genuine to the people in the library. “Such a silly tradition.” He says. Little do they know, Thomas, despite being a massive poet and always admitting his love to those women around him, quite liked Y/N. Every since you passed away 55 years ago and came into his life, he has never been happier. You two hang out all the time, and he loves how you always listen to his poems. The problem is that when he realised he had these feelings for you, you guys became too close. He felt that if he revealed these feelings, and you rejected him, you would no longer want to be friends.

What he didn’t know is that you harbour the same feelings for him, you been infatuated with him for years. When Alison came to the house, and he started telling her all his poems, and hanging out with her more often, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous. You can’t lie and say it hasn’t been tense around you two, because everyone can feel it.

“It’s not silly tradition it sweet!” Kitty complained.

“I used to always hang mistletoe around the house for me and Carol. It was great, really nice tradition.” Pat told the group.

You rolled your eyes, “fine. If it’s so important to you lot.” You leaned up and Thomas held his breath, his eyes widened, only to feel your lips fall on his cheek before you pulled back. “There.”

“No! It has to be a proper kiss silly!” Kitty giggles, “on the lips.”

Despite not having any blood in his body, Thomas swore his whole face went pink. The idea of your lips on his was enough to make his tummy do somersaults (even you just kissing his cheek made his body feel all fuzzy inside).

“Kitty, it’s not like me and Thomas not kissing is going to ruin Christmas or anything.” You tell her.

“Actually, it suppose bad luck if you don’t kiss under mistletoe.” Mary mentions, causing the rest of the group to send you smirks.

You take a deep breath, the others watch in anticipation on what your going to do. You groan before looking back at the group. “Does it really matter if we kiss or don’t kiss.”

“Yes!” Kitty says gleefully. Thomas frowned. The thought of kissing you sounds delightful but it seems as though you don’t share the same thoughts as him. Only you do. You would love to kiss Thomas, you would just prefer to kiss him without the peer pressure of your friends.

“Look, Thomas doesn’t even want to kiss me and it would be very rude to kiss someone without their permission.” You tell the group and try to leave again. Thomas looked at you on bewilderment, he can’t believe you think he doesn’t want to kiss you.

“I believe Thorne does, Y/N.” The Captain tells you. You glare at him, wondering why he decides now is the best place to join in on the group’s antics.

You turn your head to look at Thomas, “I really don’t mind.” He mutters. “Besides if it makes them stop pestering us.” Thomas says.

“Y’know what? Fine. If it means so much to you people.” You turn your whole body towards Thomas and grab his shirt before pulling him towards you. Your lips fall on his and the poet swore he has never felt anything better.

Thomas lets out a soft hum against your lips, he brings one of his hands your cheek to deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth slightly, brushing his tongue along your bottom lip to gently request access to your mouth. You part your lips ever so slightly before they are quickly pried open further by Thomas’ tongue.

You suddenly remember that the ghosts are watching and quickly pull away. Thomas tries to chase you lips but you step back before he can.

“There. Was that a proper enough kiss for you?” You say. The four ghosts watching don’t answer, so you walk back out of the library, Thomas fixes his waistcoat and looks at the others; his face feeling hot.

“Oh my god.” Kitty ends up saying, breaking the silence.

[sketches4mysw33theart]

Secret Fantasy

Title:  Secret Fantasy  Synopsis: Your brother, Willy Wonka, sends you on a mission to discover as much as you can about Mr Felix Fickelgruber and his shop. However, when you meet the man himself, you discover much more than you bargained for.   Word Count: 1.8k  Warnings: None 

Yes, I am still alive, but is the fandom? 🫠 

“Okay, Y/N,” your brother’s words echoed in your psyche. “Once you’re in Fickelgruber’s shop, play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop, yes? He’ll notice you soon enough, then you can ask him about his chocolates, his upcoming plans, all of it. Anything you see, anything he says, try and remember. Chocolates, flavours, shapes, packaging, all of it! It’s risky, I know, but you can do it, I know you can. Okay?” 

But, bathed in the soft, green light of the infamous chocolate shop, surrounded by plush velvets and lush silks, it was easy to lose your grip on sanity. You stood, stunned, in the centre of this corner of paradise like a boat lost out at sea, bobbing listlessly against waves it has no strength to fight.  

Overwhelmed by endless coloured boxes and paper-wrapped concoctions, you weren’t sure where to look. So, your attention bounced over each shelf and colour and texture as quickly as pinballs spinning in the dazed universe of their machine. You were used to chocolate, naturally, and you had confidence that nothing could compare to the tiny miracles that your brother could produce. However, seeing a real shop, so many types of confectionaries deliberately put together and dressed up to entice passers-by to dip into their pockets – it was an entirely new realm for you.  

Of course, it did not take too long for you to get noticed. Dressed up in the new finery your brother had dipped into his quickly growing stash of chocolate-selling money to kindly purchase for you, which itched your wrists at the cuffs and made a satisfying swish noise whenever you turned, it was admittedly hard not to notice you. You looked as though you had strolled into new money and built a throne of sovereigns from the petty cash. 

“May I help you?” You were reading, with your mouth open in awe, the flavours in Fickelgruber's Fancies (one of his most expensive boxes of chocolates) when the refined voice sang over your shoulder, and you turned to it as though scolded.  

You were caught in the headlights of a face you had only heard mythological tales about, the face of one of your brother’s arch nemeses. The face of, you shamefully thought as soon you laid eyes on him, an extremely handsome man. Frozen under his liquefying stare, you floundered, your boat taking on water as you stuttered, trying to find your footing in this strange, golden world.  

Somehow, you thought focusing on the handsome man responsible for your drowning (and much more besides) would carry you safely back to steady ground. He was wiry, tall, and immaculately presented, from the perfectly waxed shape of his hair to the shined-clean sparkle of his shoe tips. His accent was as plummy as the colour of his matching tie and handkerchief, but he had a nice, if a little strained, smile on his face. Rather more than nice, you thought.  

As you stared at him, watching the corners of his lips rise in a coy, roguish smile, sense boomeranged back into your brain in the guise of your brother. Play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop. 

“Er, yes, actually, I think you can, Mr Fickelgruber.” Finally, your voice came back to you, and with it the confidence and bald-faced mania your brother had instilled in you long ago; the tools needed to get your job done. What you didn’t notice, however, was your instant use of his name and the gratified expression that illuminated his face as soon as you addressed him by it.  

“These fancies,” you pointed somewhat redundantly to the lush green box, hoping it would disguise the quiver in your voice as you recovered, “there are no cherry flavours. That simply won’t do.” 

To your surprise, he smiled again. “Oh, you’re absolutely right. It is a travesty, isn’t it? I was saying the same thing to my wretched assistant only yesterday. May I suggest you try these instead?”    

He reached easily over your head, pulling from a higher shelf a sleek black box emblazoned with an egotistical gold F and stylishly held together with a single black ribbon stretched across the right-hand side. You were rather too distracted to focus on what he reached for, however, as you were overwhelmed with a strong wave of wild ferns (freedom, open countryside stretching out ahead under the harsh shards of moonlight), a rich, earthy scent emanating from his suit and the body it covered the same way his shop exuded opulence and his wry smile radiated superiority.  

Then, he was holding the box almost to your nose, as though he suspected you of neglecting your glasses; this only confirmed that you were not as confident as your attitude would project. Slow responsiveness, trembling hands, quivering mouth. His impression of you must have been that of a helpless infant. 

“These,” he began speaking when you gently lifted the box from his hand to inspect the contents listed on the side, “are my pride and joy. Fickelgruber’s Fudges.” His chest puffed as he shared with you the name of the delights currently cupped in your hands, but finally, your attention was diverted from your new companion. He was still talking, filling up the electric space between you with fleeting words about the concoction and how, although it wasn’t strictly chocolate, it was ‘the best taste sensation you could achieve on God’s green Earth’, but you could barely hear him as you scanned the ingredients and thought of your brother’s face.  

Your brother, you knew, was a dab hand at all kinds of confectionary, but he was never satisfied with his fudge recipe. Although you were supportive, neither, secretly, were you. There was always something missing. Not enough sugar, too much, the flavours don’t gel well, unappetising to look at - always something. It took one glance at the near-empty shelf above you to know that this was not the case with the man in front of you.  

His flavours were certainly unique, although as you read them, they seemed so simple. No yeti sweat, for example. There was cherry, as expected, but also salted caramel, mint, raspberry, maple, and a mysteriously named Fickelgruber’s Fantasy, an unnamed flavour with a top-secret recipe.  

Of course, you asked immediately, “What’s the flavour?” but he just laughed loudly, throwing his head back so you could see the bobbing of his Adam’s apple along his taut neck. Despite the face of your brother still hovering at the forefront of your mind, at the sound of Mr Fickelgruber’s unbridled laugh, your lips twitched into a giggling smile. 

“Well, if I told you that,” he said once he had recovered, a grin spread across his handsome face and hands clasped behind his back as he leaned closer to you, “I’d have to kill you.”  

He brought his hands between you to grasp the box you were still holding, slipping off the ribbon with ease and lifting off the lid. “I believe I can spare a few of these to tantalise your tastebuds, however. Here,” he held up a perfect cube of mouth-watering fudge, covered with a delicate strip of chocolate and dotted with what looked like either marshmallow or biscuit. “Try my fantasies for yourself.”  

He quirked up an eyebrow as he held the fudge out to you between his forefinger and thumb, only an extension of his one-sided smirk. You looked up from the piece of confectionary to his face for a mere second before opening your mouth and allowing him to place it onto your awaiting tongue.  

It was like a slice of heaven, melting in your mouth as soft and supple as the rich cocoa butter your brother had traded a silk scarf for in India and allowed you to dip your finger in as he made his chocolate after days of denying you the privilege. Fickelgruber’s Fudge had that same kind of forbidden luxury in its flavour, rich and decadent. That addition of biscuit – it was definitely biscuit, you recognised as soon as it touched your taste buds – only emphasized the beauty of the bite, giving the chewy texture a gritty crunch.   

If Fickelgruber was smiling with pride before, he was beaming with it now, watching your eyes light up as the taste of his well-kept recipe coated your throat. “Good, no? And there’s your beloved cherry, of course.” 

As soon as you’d swallowed the secret Fantasy, he was holding up a square of fudge dotted with sweet cherries. Without question, you opened your mouth once more, accidentally catching the very tips of his fingers between your lips as your mouth closed eagerly around the sweet. You were too overwhelmed to apologise as he withdrew them without a care, too overwhelmed even to speak. The cherry was, dare you say it, even more delicious than his prided secret recipe, as sweet and real as cherry pie.  

You swallowed the sweet blissfully and looked down at the open box still in your hand as though it were a treasure chest. Your Pandora’s box. You weren’t sure if you wanted to eat them all at once or simply leave the box on a table, lid off and sweets displayed, for visitors to coo over as they pass, but never to touch. Funnily enough, as he spoke once more, it came to your attention that you were having a vaguely similar tug-of-war about the man who had been feeding them to you. Keep him to yourself, or hand his secrets over to your brother? Hmm... 

“You know,” there was what you could only describe as a smouldering look in his eyes as he stared at you with his undivided attention, “I have plenty more fantasies that you could try if you’re looking for a certain flavour.” He gestured around him with his hands, but your stare never left his. “My whole shop is at your feet.” After a brief pause, he added, “As am I.”  

Only for a moment did you hesitate, looking over your shoulder past the thick green curtains and gold rails, out into the plain beige and white of the Galleries Gourmet, the people gazing through the spotless windows in wonder as they hurried past, and even further out into the street, where your brother was using your distraction of his rival to share his chocolate with the world as he waited for you to emerge safely. 

Feeling like a traitor to your brother, a fraud, a betrayer of the very blood that was pounding in your veins, you turned your back to the outside world and followed the dark, swaying shadow of the handsome man who turned to look at you, eyes twinkling, eyebrow raised, smile fixed, only the once before leading you deeper into the crowds of the shop floor.  

Oh, you were in trouble.  

[agir1ukn0w]

no I will not be taking criticism you all know I’m right.

[clydethesnake]

Who I Will Write

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Peter Parker (mcu)

Slash

Duff McKagan

Izzy Stradlin

James Hetfield

Kirk Hammett

Jamie Winton

Thomas Thorne

Tyko

What I will write

Fluff

Angst

Smut (underage characters MUST be aged up)

What I won't write

rape / non-con

pedophilia

incest

racism

abuse

at the moment I will not be writing x male! readers, I do not feel comfortable doing it (I don't know how to). I might in the future but for now please do not send me requests for male reader.

[otaku-girl-ao3]

Otaku_Girl's Fanfic Masterlist

Here is a quick overview of my complete Wonka (2023) fanfic back catalogue (and a few other Mathew Baynton related fandoms). I thought it'd be simpler to have everything in one place to find them more quickly 😊 The easiest way to follow my work and get the latest updates on all of my fics is via Archive Of Our Own - subscribing via my main Otaku_girl or my Wonka specific pseud AHatfulOfDreams.

Personal favourite

➼ Willy Wonka x Felix Fickelgruber

Sugar Daddy? Call Me (Sir)

Used to being in control during his working life, Willy wants (needs) someone to take control of his life outside of the inventing room. But trying to juggle his wants and desires without risking his dream may prove to be more tricky than he had anticipated.

Felix likes to be in control. A man of power, he’s not used to hearing no. Everybody has a price. Everyone. There’s no way some upstart chocolate maker would dare do anything but roll over for Fickelgruber, is there?

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53223310

long fic (150k+) ~ sugar daddy ~ bdsm ~ smut

➼ Dark!Wonka x Felix Fickelgruber

His (Darkness)

“Arthur. You cannot be serious.”

“As you can see, he is mainly housebroken. But he still needs to be put in his place on a regular basis. He needs to be taught a firm lesson, as it were. You can take Felix if you want him. Consider him my little welcoming gift to you. He’s not as pretty or as young as he once was, but at least he’ll keep thin for you. And he’s very obedient when remembers to mind his manners.”

“No, Arthur, please.”

“Do you think that you can handle him, Wonka? He is clearly in need of some remedial lessons.”

“I think I shouldn’t have a problem, Arthur. I thank you for the gift. I shall make sure to use it thoroughly before your return. Perhaps he could do with a reminder of precisely who he deserves to be owned by. Property doesn’t get to choose its master.”

Dark!Wonka. Post-canon. Please read the tags as they are updated. We're in for another long one, folks.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54770731

Dove ~ dark ~ eventual happy ending ~ smut

x Reader fics

➼ Willy Wonka x Reader

(Pure) Imagination

You wouldn't go as far as to say you love your job, but you do love the freedom it gives you. One frozen night, you encounter a customer unlike any other, who seems determined to show you a world beyond your imagination. Wonka hires your services for the night. You end up with more than you bargained for. Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52955674

light-hearted ~ sex work ~ smut

Bitter Choices & Unsweetened Dreams

“I thought she was your sister?” “What’s it to you?”  “It’s a great deal to me.” Mister Top Hat says, voice even and calm. “Family is family. But property…” His eyes flick down the length of you once more, as though weighing up his words, before saying, “Well, property can change hands.”

When trying to escape capture, you ask for Mister Wonka's help. Sometimes, it's best to be careful what you wish for.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53109055

Dark!Wonka ~ angst with a happy ending ~ nonsexual

The Most Fearsome Foe Known to Man

Willy accidentally angers the most fearsome of potential foes known to mankind: a librarian. Despite Noodle’s warnings, he doesn’t understand the importance of returning library books both in the state in which they were borrowed and, most importantly, on time.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53069821

light-hearted ~ crack treated seriously ~ nonsexual

➼ Felix Fickelgruber x Reader

Make Me (Break Me)

“I can assure you that it is all there.” He sounds insulted that you would even consider checking that the amount in full is there before things get started. “Just like the first envelope this evening had the exact amount agreed upon.”

You send him a small placating smile. “It is nothing personal, Mister Fickelgruber. It is just business. Now. Strip."

Felix Fickelgruber has a very specific fantasy in mind — one that is perhaps best left in the hands of a professional.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54227971

pro-domme reader ~ SSCK ~ smut

➼Multiple pairings

Forget Me (K)Not

“Please? Please. I need…”

“The boy is clearly a beta, Felix. Use your nose. No self-respecting omega would go around smelling like that. And have you not seen his clothes? The callouses on his hands? I know you have a weakness for pretty little things, Felix, but wake up. This is no more than another pathetic attempt by a money-grubbing, greedy child to get a leg up. So no. Absolutely not. I will not even entertain the thought.”

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54321145

A/B/O ~ first heat ~ omegaverse ~ smut

The Most (Un)Romantic Day of the Year

Arthur did not consider himself to be a romantic man. Yet even he felt it was not too unresonable to expect to spend their anniversary together.

The poly chocolate cartel engagement fic that one person kind-of asked for. Pure fluff.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54916120

Romance ~ established relationship ~ marriage proposal

Dark Deeds and Bitter Choices

What if Mrs Scrubbit decided that they could make more money using Willy's talents elsewhere, outside of the washhouse?

The Arthur/Felix/Willy fic that nobody asked for.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53986543

Dark!Arthur ~ dove ~ non-ssck ~ smut

➼ Willy Wonka x Arthur Slugworth

(A World Of) My Own

Wonka’s store stood, a hollowed-out husk, the remains burned to cinders. When the cartel came, what if Arthur felt a twinge of something he hadn’t felt in years? The pre-slash/ get-together fic that precisely one person asked for.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54184039

Guilt ~ fix-it ~ accidental dating

➼ Willy Wonka x The Chief of Police

Three strikes

Willy thought back to their last meeting, to the freezing cold water, to the sharp whack to the back of his head. It was not a situation he hoped to repeat anytime soon."Officer, I—”

"That's the problem with all of you young upstarts. You never do think.”

While waiting to meet Felix for their date, Willy manages to draw the ire of the Chief of Police.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54115921

misunderstandings ~ dove ~ hurt no comfort

➼ Felix Fickelgruber x Arthur Slugworth

Strength (In Silence)

Arthur is a man who knows his strength all too well. He thought that he was concealing his fears from Felix; yet the other man would never cease to amaze him in the most unexpected of ways.

A soft colleagues-to-lovers bdsm fic with gentle!Dom Felix and Submissive!Arthur, where Arthur is afraid of his own strength (and Felix is determined that isn’t a good enough reason for them not to fuck like bunnies).

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54916276

Kink negotiation ~ submissive Arthur ~ gentle dominant Felix

Empty

There’s no colour in the sky when Felix wakes up. There’s no warmth in his chest, or excitement in his gut. There is nothing but the unwavering certainty: he is not enough.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54447592

depression ~ anxiety ~ hurt no comfort

For a Moment

“I have a spare room. It’s nothin fancy, but it beats any of the shelters I’m meant to recommend in these cases.”

“These cases?”

The chief looked down, before steeling himself and meeting Felix’s gaze once more. “I think we both know what I mean, Mister Fickelgruber, Sir.”

“I do not think that we do. You shall have to spell it out for me.”

It takes an average of seven attempts for a person to leave a domestic violent situation for good.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54618847

domestic abuse ~ hurt no comfort ~ hopeful ending

Pet

“It really is quite simple, Arthur. I have certain…predilections when it comes to my partners. I enjoy a certain, shall we say, power dynamic within the bedroom.”

“You wish to be held down and told what to do? I can do that."

“You misunderstand, darling. I prefer to be the one doing the ‘holding down’ and ‘telling what to do’, as it were."

Arthur Slugworth was not a man who took orders. And yet, for Felix...he could learn to be.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54652468

submissive Arthur ~ dominant Felix ~ BDSM

Things (Best) Left Unsaid

“You’re married, aren’t you?” “Er, yes? Yes I am Mister Fickelgruber.” “Do you ever regret it?”

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54726334

reflection ~ marriage ~ doubt

➼ Felix Fickelgruber x The Chief of Police

Just Give Me A Reason (Just A Little Bit's Enough)

“What brings you to my doorstep this evening, Chief? I do hope that I shall have the opportunity to counter whatever offer Arthur has made you before you proceed.”

The Chief looked at him blankly. He could see the tenseness around Felix’s mouth, the tightness around his eyes. Was that his hands shaking, just visible above his desk? Surely not. Felix didn’t get nervous. Not like that. Unless…His stomach dropped. “Before I—Jesus Christ Felix, I’m not here because Arthur sent me.”

When Felix misses a cartel meeting, The Chief of Police can't help but worry. Shameless smut ensues. Can be read as a stand-alone or a follow-on from Things (Best) Left Unsaid.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55171597

submissive Chief ~ dominant Felix ~ smut

His Jewel

Francis hates the feeling of not being plugged. It had been one of Felix’s first requirements, when they first began their little arrangement. He had thought the other man was joking at first. Until he had seen the look of disappointment in Felix’s eyes when he had slipped a hand beneath his uniform trousers to check, and found his hole clenched tightly shut, not a single sign of use since the last time Felix had deemed him worthy of his time and attention.

Felix gets The Chief a special little something to help him think about him whenever they aren't together.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54257518

butt plugs ~ bdsm ~ smut

x Crossover fics

➼ Wonka (2023) x You, Me and the Apocalypse

Darling boy

Felix Fickelgruber x Ariel Conroy

"You took something that belongs to me, Mister Conroy. And I shall have you repay that debt. One way or another."

Ariel thought that he was just hacking funds from another wealthy nobody. Too bad that Felix doesn’t take kindly to having his money stolen. Luckily for Ariel, there are other methods of repayment that he is willing to accept.

The Wonka x You, Me and The Apocalypse (crossover) that nobody asked for and like maybe two people will ever read 😂 (Please note: This is primarily set in the Wonka-verse, so you can read Ariel as an OC if you are unfamiliar with YMATA).

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54566395

Kidnapping ~ dove ~ happy ending ~ smut ~ bdsm ~ crossover

You can find me on the Wonka Discord, AO3, or Tumblr

❤️❤️❤️

I do my best to respond to every comment on AO3. Regular updates on WIPs guaranteed 💯

Other Fandoms

Ghosts

Take a chance on me

Pat Butcher x Reader

“Now c'mon then love, let’s see you. Only if you’re sure. I could fetch one of the others if you’d like? Julian’s got a ton of experience if even half of his stories are to be believed. And Thomas…well, if you like that sort of thing. I suppose he’s a good enough looking chap if you can get past his poetry. And all the love confessions about other women. And the moping. And the…general Thomas-ness.”

“I think I’d rather just keep this between the two of us if that’s ok with you, Pat? At least for now? Anything else sounds a little bit advanced for…”

“For your first time as a ghost?” Pat finishes your sentence for you, sending you a reassuring smile, “We’ve all been there."

“Haha. Yes. It will be my first time as a ghost. And also…maybe… my first time…”

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55039954

Gentle dom ~ reader insert ~ pure smut ~ virgin reader

Can't take it back (once it's been set in motion)

Thomas Thorne x Reader; Pat Butcher x Reader; Thomas Thorne x Julian Fawcett

“Patrick tells me that you are inexperienced in the ways of the flesh.”

“Pat said what?”

“Patrick was telling me all about your little…conversation," Thomas said delicately, a small, sly smile curling at the corners of his lips. "And I was wondering if perhaps I might be of some assistance?”

Thomas offers to help you lose your virginity. It would be a far more appealing prospect, if you weren't half convinced you were developing feelings for Pat.

-

This can be read as a stand-alone, or a sequel to my Pat/Reader fic ‘Take a chance on me’. Shameless smut which developed a little bit of plot.

Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55376755

Misunderstandings ~ cunnilingus ~ smut ~ virgin reader

[skinnymandriaspm]

Mathew baynton characters x reader incorrectl quotes . Featuring

William agar

Sam pinkett ( I think that's how you spell it)

Thomas thorne

Ariel conroy

Chris Pitt goddard

Jamie Winton

With that said, Enjoy this rubbish

-------------------------------

y/n: Am I in trouble?

Ariel: Take a guess.

y/n: No?

Ariel: Take another guess.

-------------------------

y/n: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Chris : FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?

y/n: No! Four to five seconds!

Chris: Too late!!!

----------------------------

y/n: Whaddya call a fish with no eye?

Jamie, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons

y/n:

y/n: fsh

--------------------------

y/n: So that’s my plan.

Sam: Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don’t want to sound mean.

y/n: No, go ahead, I want to hear it.

Sam: It fucking sucks.

y/n: That’s not constructive criticism

---------------------------------

Thomas: Here's some advice

Y/n: I didn't ask for any

Thomas: Too bad. I'm stuck here with my

thoughts and you're the only one who talks to me

---------------------------

y/n: How petty can you get?

Ariel: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

-------------------------------

y/n: Must be hard not being able to laugh

William: I do have a sense of humor you know

y/n: I’ve never heard you laugh before

William: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

-------------------------------------------------

Thomas: You love me, right, Y/n?

Y/n: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

[gothicwidowsworld]

Ghosts #2

Imagine...

Being part of the Ghosts cast and one day on set your phone going missing .... well you found out who stole it. The guys tried to play it off but they literally left evidence it was them.

Picture source

@benwillbond-actor - Instagram

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

~

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

~

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

[sunnyy3d]

Forever Yours|

Thomas Thorne x Reader

A/N:Wow, pure fluff?? I know it’s amazing. Requests open!!

This is a picture perfect moment. Thomas and I cuddled outside, watching the beautiful sunrise. His arm is wrapped around me and my head is on his shoulder. We left the tent that everyone is staying in not too long ago, instead opting for some private relaxation with each other.

We do not even have to speak, our love being conveyed through the way we hold each other. I feel Thomas shift as he gives me a kiss on the top of my head. I smile and look up at him, returning his gesture with a quick kiss.

“What are you guys up to over here?” Alison asks, approaching the spot where we are sitting.

“We are watching the sunrise. Would you like to join us? It is particularly gorgeous today,” I offer. Alison hums as she sits down next to me and we sit in silence for a moment.

I glance at Thomas, noticing his contemplative face. “What are you thinking about, my love?”

Thomas looks at me, “I was just thinking it ought to be dull and commonplace. The same sunrise, over the same house, in the same tiny piece of England. Everyday, for over two hundred years. But it is beautiful. I traveled miles and was unchanged when I could have been here and transported. It is no fault of the sun if the eye sees not its beauty.” My smile widens as I listen to Thomas’ speech. I love it when he is poetic.

“Wow, Thomas… That’s very poetic,” Alison says, thinking the same as me. Immediately, Thomas’ face brightens. He is always smitten to a compliment, but one from Alison can mean a lot, due to the fact that she has always doubted his skill.

“You really think so?” Thomas asks enthusiastically. Alison smiles as she gives him a small ‘yeah.’

“Of course it is Thomas! You are a great poet,” I express.

“That means the world coming from you, dear.” I smile at him. He is so cute when he brings out the puppy dog eyes and broad smile. I have always loved how vehement he is. He never does anything halfway, or at least tries his best at all times.

“And if I may,” Thomas starts. “Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate-“ Alison quickly leaves with a roll of her eyes and an ‘oh my god’ as Thomas starts reciting Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 18.”

I could only giggle at Thomas he turns to face me and grabs my shoulders. Through my laughter, he continued to passionately recite the poem to me, never breaking eye contact.

“So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this and gives life to thee,” he finishes.

“Thank you, Thomas. How can you even remember that?”

“With you around, I can do anything. Your love gives me extraordinary powers.”

“Does it now? What kind of powers?”

“Oh, I would love to show you, but I am afraid that I need a recharge.”

I scrunch my eyebrows, confused on where he is going with the bit. “A recharge? How would you do that?”

Thomas slowly grins, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “Why, with a kiss of course!” I can only roll my eyes playfully.

Seeing this, Thomas continues. “What? I am telling the truth! Without a kiss from the most alluring and heavenly woman, I cannot save the world with my poetry.” He manages to keep a completely serious face, like this kiss is of the utmost importance.

Deciding to play along, I lean forward with a visage of worry. “But, Thomas, who is this woman? We must find her so that you can get your kiss!”

Thomas’ eyes briefly shoot down to my lips before returning to my eyes. “This exquisite woman is you,” he says softly. With the tone he used, I cannot help the butterflies in my stomach.

Thomas puts his hands on my jawline, cradling my face. He tilts his head and his eyes flutter close as he leans in. Our lips fleetingly brush together before going in for a firmer kiss. I throw my arms around his neck, tangling my hands in his hair.

His lips are soft, like they always are, and he kisses me delicately but lustfully. His unadulterated love being showed by the gentle way he caresses my face. My stomach flutters at the thought that I am his and he is mine.

We finally pull back, breathing heavily, and I gently run my hands through his curls. I give him one last peck on the edge of his smile. We come to a silent agreement that this will have to wait because everyone would likely start to file out of the tent.

We turn back to our previous position; with my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me, tracing patterns on my arm. The smell of old ink and parchment on him provides a calming affect. I take a deep breath, relishing in the scent of him. I could sit here all day with him, just us holding each other.

Thomas is the first to break the silence, “I love you. I need you to know that I am forever yours.”

I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, “I love you too.”

[five-salty-bitters]

I’ve never written a damn thing in my life but wanting to read something that doesn’t exist can make one a bit unhinged

Behold, a moodboard of sorts to feed the hyperfixation goblin

[nevillelongbottomfanpage]

Thomas Thorne x reader smut headcannons [BBC Ghosts]

Masterlist

Hey guys sorry about the long wait I've been a bit busy with school work because of my gcse's but here you go <3

!SMUT BELOW THE GIF SORRY I CAN'T CUT ON MOBILE!

-bratty sub

-don't tell me I'm wrong

-anyways let's get into it, I know damn well that this man would be absolputley fucking infatuated with you after you even asked him about it. Man's is in love with Allison without even touching her

- would literally go so red if he could, literally red at the fucking thought of even passionately kissing you

-very very horny man

- probably tried to dom but we all know he's a sub he just lies about it alot

- I know damn well he's bi/ omni he's though some questionable thoughts about Julian and cap before don't even try to change my mind

-will absolputley let you fuck him after he's gotten over the flushed stage

- maybe switch but we all know that's a fucking lie

-he's so passionate about everything, I feel like he wouldn't like being too rough but then he would also like being hit if you get me

- no blood absolputley not this man probably has ptsd

- rope bunny shut up don't argue typa guy

- he has absolputley no clue what porn us so you might need to explain that to him

(I'm gonna write more dw I just wanted t

Ou guys to have some content becaus eim gonna be writing some the thick of it ff and I wanted to give you gusy something while you wait)

[agir1ukn0w]

he’s beauty, he’s grace, I want to tie him to my bed and do unspeakable things to his face

[edwardprendick1896]

my favourite bits from “Redding Weddy”

“...I don’t think they’ll be here just yet sir...”

*gay tension* 

“OnlY abOUT thRee hUnDRED yeAs”

the wedding planner’s pristine suit

“Oh yeah, put it to the people, like they know what they’re doing.”

fanny doing a great impression of me reading thirteenth doctor x reader fanfiction

*Mathew Baynton voice* “YOU’RE DICKED IN THE KNOB”

“lEt’S grAb ThE ComPutEr ThAt fOldS” :D

horny fanny.  horny fanny.

my first threeso-

“I always choose pistol.” “Oh yeAh, it rEAllY wOrked out for yOu last time, dIdn’t it?”

mary being the friend kitty has needed for so long <3

the captain assuming fanny has the hots for him

*dramatic gay leaping*

“Redding Weddy!” :D

“here’s to buried secrets” :’)