Sweet Tooth
A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this
Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.
Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.
The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.
Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.
It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.
Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.
“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.
“Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.
“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.
That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.
The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…
That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.
Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.
You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.
“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.
He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.
You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.
Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.
“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.
Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”
That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”
“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.
Like maybe he’s telling the truth…
You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”
“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”
“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.
“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”
“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.
He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.
You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.
The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.
“Willy” you whine.
“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”
You take a sip.
The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.
“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”
At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”
You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.
“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.
“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”
Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.
You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.
“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”
“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”
Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.
“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”
With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.
You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-
You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-
“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”
You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.
Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.
“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.
When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.
It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.
You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.
Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.
You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-
He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”
“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.
“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”
And oh. Oh.
All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.
Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.
There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.
He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.
“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.
“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.
He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.
Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.
You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.
You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.
For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.
“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.
He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.
“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.
“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”
You can't deny him anything, can you?
You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.
Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.
Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.
He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.
“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.
Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.
You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-
“My turn to taste you”
🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬
I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol
