, ?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘯?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘯?

ㅤ𝘓𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘯

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭

ㅤㅤ𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘯

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘓𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦

ㅤ𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯' 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘯

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭

Have you got a sweet tooth?

SWEET TOOTH in WONKA (2023) dir. by Paul King

He came to me once in a dream. As a stripling he came to me, when I lived in a far land. A thousand years ago, or five or ten. He came to me in days before the old ones had yet to cross the sea. In a land called England. A sheaf of centuries ago he imbued me with my duty, although there were errands in between my youth and my apotheosis.

Why doesn't anyone say they're damn similar?

One Touch (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader) - Part 3

Synopsis: Tensions rise until someone breaks.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: possessive behaviour, jealousy, smut

AN: Okay, final part of this short series. Part 1 can be found here and part 2 can be found here.

No longer were you avoiding Lesso. In fact, you’d begun to seek her out, placing yourself right in her eye line, by her elbow, close enough to remind her of your presence every chance you could. And she was doing her best to act as if her eyes didn’t linger on you.

But they did and you drank up the attention.

Since your offer, she’d kept away from your room, not even coming over to the other school as if she couldn’t trust herself to be so close to your room. Which was flattering, if not a little frustrating. But her eyes followed you around the grounds, in the shared spaces, whenever you ventured into her halls. It was thrilling, knowing you took up more space in her vision than anyone else.

So then you began to play with her. It seemed fair, after being her plaything for so many weeks. She deserved to be nothing but a throbbing pulse of want. She was going to be the one who broke, not you. It was her future. If she wanted it she had to make it happen.

You were just going to help it along.

Sprawling out on a blanket in the garden, you allowed yourself to watch her as she had a hissed argument with Dovey. Her eye flicked up, finding you on your blanket, glowering when you tossed your hair back. You stretched, arms over your head, back arching as a soft sigh passed over your lips. Her gaze only turned darker as she watched you.

She whirled on her heels, coat flying out behind her as she strode away, thunder on her face. You smiled to yourself, going back to the book you were reading in the sun. Dovey’s shadow passed over you. You looked up at her, shading your eyes.

“I hope you know what you’re doing with Lesso,” she said, making you feel like one of her students, “she’s trouble.”

“She’s evil,” you replied with a small shrug.

“Exactly!”

“I promise, it’s going to be fine,” you said, “I’m in control.”

“Are you?”

You thought you were. You were almost certain you were. You’d taken back the control, choosing to flip the script and make her take the initiative if she wanted you. It was her choice. She knew you wanted her, she knew she was invited, she had to take the next step.

“Yes,” you replied.

She hovered another moment more before leaving you to your book. You sighed, settling back to read, letting your mind drift. Spending some time on your memory of Lesso drinking her coffee that morning was a wonderful use of your imagination. Her tongue dragging along her lower lip, her eyes finding you from over the top of her cup, long fingers curling around ceramic body. You could imagine her giving you that exact look when you were between her thighs.

You hoped you’d find out soon enough.

Leisurely cycling through your fantasies, you let the time slip away. The sun began to sink below the horizon, turning the sky into a canvas of pinks and oranges. The air began to chill, pricking your skin with goosebumps until you sighed, sitting up and accepting it was time to go inside.

“You’ve been out here a while.” Anemone was standing a few feet away, watching you, “must be a good book.”

“It’s alright.”

You fell into step beside her, making your way towards the shared dining room.

“I’ve been hearing some whispers,” she said.

“Oh?” You wondered if Lesso would be at the table when you arrived.

“There are rumours that you have caught the eye of our Evil Dean,” she continued, lowering her voice as you passed a group of students, “I hope for your sake that isn’t true.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Lesso would chew you up and spit you out,” she replied, running her eyes over you, “although, I will hand it to you. She’s changed her mind about your ability.”

“But not her attitude,” you muttered.

“You can hardly expect her to be sunshine and rainbows,” she said with a small smile.

“No, that would be too good for someone so evil,” you replied.

Her laughter was like bells, tinkling through the air as you passed into the dining hall. Your eyes ran along the table, finding Lesso already staring at you. Her eyes had narrowed and her lips were pressed together into a tight line. You looked away, catching Anemone’s gaze flicking between her and you.

“Oh no,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” you said.

“You don’t have to let her get away with it,” she said.

“I do,” you replied.

Her fingertips brushed over the apple of your cheeks.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” she asked but you knew she knew the answer.

You nodded, turning towards her.

“And she knows I did, so there’s no point pretending like neither of us want it,” you said, “we both know where this is going.”

She tilted your chin up with her index finger until you were looking at her.

“Then you have my sympathy,” she said, “and my support.”

“But you said she’d chew me up and spit me out,” you said, eyebrows drawing together.

“And maybe she won’t,” she replied, “maybe she’s met her match. Maybe, just maybe, true love isn’t just for the good.”

“True love?” You pulled out of her hold, back bumping into another body.

A warm hand settled on your hip, familiar and electrifying. You froze before melting under her touch. It had been so long, too much time passing since that last time her touch brushed along your body. Her fingers tightened, pulling you back another step until you were pressed against her.

“What is going on here?” Lesso snarled, so close to your ear.

“Anemone and I are having a conversation,” you replied.

“A conversation?” You didn’t have to look at her to know her eyebrow was raised.

Admittedly, it was growing difficult to think straight with her body pressed so close against yours. You found yourself leaning back against her, not aware of doing it. Her low chuckle was filthy, making your skin prickle.

“It didn’t look like a conversation,” she said, something dark and delicious in her voice, “or rather, it didn’t look like only a conversation.”

“And that matters to you why?” you asked, pushing away how breathless you felt with her hands on you.

“You know why.” Her voice dropped an octave, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I don’t see how it concerns you when that hasn’t happened yet,” you said, trying to take a step out of her hold.

Her hold on you tightened, bruising and insistent as she kept you in place. You turned your head, searching for her face, wanting to gauge her through what her eyes were doing. They were glaring down at you, her anger barely restrained. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, stealing her attention and you saw the way her anger mixed with her desire.

“As long as you’re here it concerns me,” she all but growled.

A group of princesses passed you, giggling amongst themselves. They shot a glance towards the two of you, Anemone having left you to the predator who had marked you as prey. You froze, watching them make their way further into the room, heads turning back to watch you.

“Come on.”

Her fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you from the hall. You stumbled over your own feet, the pace she was going faster than you would prefer. Through unending shadows, through hallways that twisted and turned until you were lost, she dragged you until she practically threw you through a door.

The room was expansive, a fire sending warm light dancing up the walls. A large bed stood at one end, a bed that seemed like it had featured in a dream. Everything was dark, hostile, and yet the warmth and the bed were soft and inviting.

The door closed behind you with a heavy thunk, the turn of the lock loud in the room.

You spun, watching her stalk towards you. With each tap of her cane your stomach tightened. The firelight playing over her face turned it into planes of shadow and light, beautiful and untouchable. Her gaze darkened, locking onto you.

“You were flirting with the insipid beauty teacher,” she said.

“I was not,” you replied, “and even if I was that’s between me and her.”

“You’re mine,” she snarled.

“Then do something about it,” you said, lifting your chin in challenge.

The exact same type of challenge that had gotten you into this situation all those weeks ago.

She tossed her cane aside, onto the small futon that under normal circumstances might have looked quite inviting. Each footstep, slow and measured, brought her closer to you but still just out of reach. She considered you, watching as your breathing became short, your body tensed, your lips parted.

“You think you’re in control here?” she asked, “you think you’re in charge?”

“No,” you replied, “but I don’t think you are either.”

“Wrong answer.”

Her hands landed on your waist, nails digging in, as she forced you further back into the room. The back of your knees hit her mattress, sending you toppling down onto it. You let out a huff, leaning up on your elbows. The curl of her lips was cruel and yet so enticing.

Her hands landed on your knees, pushing them apart, fingers stroking over your skin. You let your legs fall open, watching her as she looked down at her hands, disappearing past the fabric of your skirt. Your teeth sunk into your lip, stifling the noise from her hands on your skin.

“What was that, little one?” The condescension dripped from her lips.

Your hands reached for her. She batted them away, staring down at her as her fingers drew further up your thighs. You shifted, trying to urge her on. Instead, her fingers dug in, holding on, as she lent over you. Her breath ghosted over your face, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Do you want to share with the class?” she asked.

“I want you,” you replied, practically without your permission.

Her smile turned predatory, eyes flashing, and her lips descended on you. Your fingers tangled in her copper curls, gasping into her mouth. Her teeth sunk in until the tang of blood coated your tongue. She licked into your mouth as her hands inched further up your legs.

Her touch was electrifying, waking you up to the potential of what being with her could be. The closest you’d come was the flash of your premonition, the way her lips had felt on your heat burned into your brain, resurfacing in dreams for weeks. Her kiss was all consuming, stealing your breath. You tugged on her hair and she growled into your mouth, muffled and delicious and addictive.

She drew back, ignoring the way you whimpered at the lost of her lips. She extracted her hands from under your skirt, pulling yours from her hair. She held them, fingers like manacles around your wrists, as she dragged her eyes down your body.

“Go on then,” she said, letting you go.

She stepped back from you, settling in a leather arm chair. Her legs spread, forearms resting on her knees, eyes intent on you. You struggled, sitting up, legs still dangling off the edge of the bed. Your body was crying out for her touch once again.

“What?”

Her lips curled up again and you could tell that being with her would be torture and delight all wrapped up in one beautiful body. She tilted her head.

“Making use of my own hands,” she parroted back to you, imitating your seductive whisper into a caricature that caused shame to curdle in your stomach, “or were those all words?”

“You want me to…?” Your cheeks heated at the suggestion.

“That or you can leave.”

You stared at her, waiting for her to tell you she was only joking. The silence stretched. Her eyes dragged over your body, lingering where your skirt had been rucked up. She quirked and eyebrow when she finally looked back to your face.

You took a deep breath in.

Your hand inched its way up your body until it was cupping one breast, the other skimming over the skin of your knee. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding eye contact with Lesso. She lent back in her seat, eyes darkening, fingers running along her lips.

You allowed your hand to begin to move up your thigh, tracing the path hers had so recently taken. Your other creeped past the neckline of your dress, seeking out skin and warmth. The brush of your finger against your hardening nipple brought a sharp inhalation. Lesso’s eyes grew more intense.

You palmed your breast, groaning when your other hand found your underwear covered core. Your legs fell further open under your touch. You pinched at your nipple, slowly rolling it between thumb and forefinger. The other hand pushed your underwear aside, gently running through your folds. Your eyes closed as you found your clit, circling it with a muttered curse. You could still feel the weight of her gaze on you, only spurring you on.

You pressed your finger to your entrance. Your breath stuttered in your chest, the anticipation sweet. You threw your head back as you entered yourself, thumb finding your clit. Your moan was loud to your ears, the rest of the room silent. Your hand squeezed your breast, arching into your own touch. The shaky sigh that left your lips was familiar from every other time you’d done this, imagining it was her, wanting it to be her. You thrust a second finger in.

Cold fingers grasped your knees and warm breath hit your inner thigh. Your eyes opened, finding her kneeling between your legs, eyes trained on your core. You watched at her tongue swept along her bottom lip, drawing closer. With indelicate fingers, she tore your underwear in two, exposing you to her feasting eyes.

“Were you imagining it was my hands on your body?”

Her eyes flicked up to you then back to your dripping core, fingers still slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

“Yes,” you hissed, thumb pressing down on your clit.

She grasped your wrist, pulling your hand away, removing your fingers. You whined. Her low chuckle filled the air, making you squirm on her mattress.

“Do you want me to touch you?” she asked.

“You know I do,” you replied, frustration clear in your voice.

“Do you want me to claim you?” she asked.

“Either get on with it or let me go take care of myself,” you groused.

“No one will ever touch you without my permission again,” she said, “not even you.”

Her tongue ran through your folds, effectively silencing any retort you might have had. Your head fell back until you’re entire body had fallen against the mattress. She hummed, the vibration making you clench your thighs around her head. Her hands pinned your hips down before you could move, tongue running over your bundle of nerves.

Your own hands found purchase in her hair again, fingers tangling in her curls. She hummed again and your groan reverberated around the room. Her lips wrapped around your clit, her suck harsh and unforgiving. She lifted you, positioning your legs over her shoulders. Your heels dug into her back as her tongue delved back in.

Clearly, your vision had cut off before it had gotten to the truly good part.

Her name was a prayer on your lips, fingers tightening in her hair. She took her time, seemingly wanting to memorise you with nothing but her tongue. You gasped out pleas, begging her, but she slowed further, always keeping you just on the edge. Waiting for her to give you permission, you were at her mercy. Her hands kept you pinned to the bed and her mouth kept you from being able to form a coherent thought.

And then it was like teasing you had grown boring to her. She became unrelenting, driving you towards the edge without a thought of how you might handle it. Your orgasm crashed into you, like a wall that had appeared out of nowhere. Her name was a long drawn out sound on your tongue as pleasure did it’s best to pull you under.

She lapped at you, drinking down everything you were giving, and there was no time to catch your breath. Her hands were still holding you in place, tightening when you tried to move, and her mouth was feasting on you.

The second orgasm was slower, like ice melting through your veins. Your body turned to jelly beneath her, fingers loosening and soft smile taking over your face. Her hands left your thighs, rising from between your legs and staring down at you, wiping your arousal from her chin. There was a self satisfied grin on her face and her eyes were turned molten.

“Well, aren’t you fun,” she murmured before she swooped down, kissing you. The taste of yourself on her tongue was entirely too hot for you to handle.

“I didn’t realise we were doing dessert before dinner,” you said, breathless laugh at the end.

She lay down beside you, one arm scooping you up, the other pushing your hair away from your face. You looked up to her, into her face, finding something that made your heart beat just a little harder, squeeze a little harder, ache a little harder. It was like she was seeing you, all of you, and still wanted you.

“You’re mine,” she murmured again, but this time it was less harsh, a softer claiming, one you couldn’t argue with.

“I am,” you agreed.

Her fingertips ran over the apple of your cheek, delicate and soft. You shivered, pressing closer to her body.

“I guess my seduction did work,” you said, looking up at her from under lowered lashes.

“Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night,” she said, turning her gaze away but the press of her fingers into your waist gave her away.

“You couldn’t even wait long enough to undress me,” you said, rolling until you were sitting on top of her, looking down at her, “were you that desperate for me?”

“Keep up that line of questioning and I’ll find a way to silence you,” she growled.

You lent down, lips ghosting over hers.

“Make me.”

And she did.