Willy Wonka x Reader

New Plan

(Willy's POV)

     I try not to move a muscle as (Y/n) and Noodle pull me out on their laundry cart. After a minute or two, I feel the cart stop, and the bag opens to reveal (Y/n)'s beautiful face, making my heart race.

"All clear," she says.

     "Really?" I ask.

"Yes," she replies, and I get out of the bag.

"We did it! Well done, girls!" I cheer.

"I can't believe it worked!" Noodle says, and I take off my hat.

"And wait 'til you two see how much chocolate I made last night! We sell this and we're gonna be—" I stop when I see that I have pulled out an empty jar. "Oh, no."

"What's going on, Willy?" Noodle asks.

"Not again!" I groan.

"What do you mean, 'not again'? Where are the chocolates?" (Y/n) asks.

"I don't know how to tell you this, girls, but. . . they've been stolen," I reply as I put my hat back on.

"Stolen?" (Y/n) questions.

"Mm-hmm," I respond.

"Who by?" Noodle asks.

"The little orange man," I tell them.

"What?" Noodle asks while (Y/n) looks at me with confusion.

"The little orange man. I didn't tell you about him?" I ask.

"No, you didn't," Noodle replies.

"He's my nemesis. About yay high, comes in the dead of night and he steals all my chocolate. Been happening every few weeks for the past three, four years now," I explain.

"Oh, wow," (Y/n) says, sounding like she doesn't know whether to believe me or not.

"Really?" Noodle says in disbelief.

"Sometimes I spy him in that strange realm, 'twixt sleep and wake, green hair glinting in the moonlight," I tell them.

"Green hair?!" Noodle exclaims.

"One day I shall catch him, girls. . ." I say.

"Um, Willy?" (Y/n) asks.

". . . and when I do—" I continue.

"Willy!" Noodle snaps.

     "Hmm?" I ask, turning my attention to Noodle.

     "You don't seriously expect us to believe this, do you?" she asks.

     "Of course I do! What other explanation is there?" I respond like it's obvious.

     "I don't know. That you go to sleep, dream about a little green man—" she says.

     "Orange man, green hair," (Y/n) corrects her.

     ". . . and while you're dreaming, stuff your face with chocolate!" Noodle shouts at me.

     "Stuff my. . ." I stop when I think about this. "That makes a lot more sense."

     "Why did I ever think this would work?" she huffs as she turns to walk away.

     "Have I been eating all my own chocolate?" I ask, and I look at (Y/n) to see her looking at me with concern. "You don't believe me either, do you?"

     "Honestly, I don't know. Noodle's theory seems more logical, but you don't seem like the lying type," she replies.

     "Stupid Silver Linings," we hear Noodle grumble.

     "Hey!" (Y/n) shouts after Noodle. "There's nothing stupid about Willy's chocolate."

     I smile at (Y/n), happy that she said that. Noodle turns back around to face us.

     "If Mrs. Scrubitt had spotted us, we'd be in the coop right now, but not before she'd use you as her punching bag!" she retorts at (Y/n).

     "Look, I'm sor. . ." I pause when I process what Noodle just said, and I look at (Y/n) with concern. "Punching bag?"

     "That's not the point! We gotta figure out what to do right now!" (Y/n) says, trying to change the subject.

I stare at (Y/n) for a moment. Mrs. Scrubitt physically abuses her? I mean, I understand that Mrs. Scrubitt is a terrible woman, but I can't believe she would abuse this angel before me for her own amusement. I don't want to make her uncomfortable, so I decide not to push her into telling me about this.

     "Look, girls, we can make more chocolate. The only problem is I'm all out of milk," I tell them.

     "Well, that's not a problem," Noodle says, and simply swipes a bottle of milk from the nearest doorstep. "Milk."

     Horrified, I take the bottle from her and put it back.

     "A) that is stealing! And C) Willy Wonka does not use any old cow's milk. For this particular creation, I require the milk of a giraffe," I explain.

(Noodle's POV)

     The milk of a giraffe?! Seriously?! I decide it's best not to argue.

     "Okay, fine," I sigh. "As a matter of fact, there's one at the zoo."

     "Bing-a-la!" Willy shouts, and walks in the opposite direction of the zoo.

"But A) the zoo is not that way. . ." (Y/n) starts.

"Great!" Willy says, and spins around to walk the other way.

". . . and B). . ." (Y/n) continues, and she grabs his wrist to stop him. ". . . they're not gonna let you just walk in there and milk it."

"That, my dear (Y/n), is why we're very lucky the little orange man didn't find this," Willy responds.

He twists the top of his cane, and it opens up, revealing a tiny box inside. I'm only gonna go along with this because (Y/n) seems to trust him. I don't want to think about what Mrs. Scrubitt will do to her if we're caught. Seeing the way Willy looked at her when I blurted out Mrs. Scrubitt using her as a punching bag made me wonder if he really cares about her. Like, more than I'd like to admit.