Willy Wonka x Reader

A Devasting Deal

(Y/n's POV)

     I don't know what hurts more: the sight of the once-beautiful shop, or the crushed look on Willy's face. The fire has been extinguished, but the shop has been utterly destroyed. The great chocolate tree has melted into a strange, sinister, twisted shape, and the barge is half-sunken in the river. I just don't understand. The chocolates seemed fine when we prepared to open the shop, and I know that Willy would never poison his chocolate. But I have a strong feeling three greedy chocolatiers were involved.

     "I don't understand. What. . . ? What. . .?" Lottie starts to say, but she lapses back into silence, her hope extinguished.

     "What happened?" Piper asks.

     "Isn't it obvious? The Chocolate Cartel," Abacus says bitterly at the name.

     Willy sits down on the burnt sugar brick road. I go to sit next to him, not wanting to give up hope.

     "It's okay, Willy. We can rebuild, we can start again," I try to convince him.

     "There's no point, (Y/n). It didn't work," he says.

     "What do you mean?" Noodle asks, walking up next to us.

     "She promised she would be here. She wasn't," he replies.

     I realize he is talking about his mother.

     "You didn't actually think that—" Noodle starts to say.

     "Noodle!" I whisper, giving her a sharp glare.

     I know that now is definitely not the time to make him feel worse than he already does.

     "No, I did. Stupid dream," Willy says.

     Hearing him say that is like a knife being plunged into my heart.

     "Don't say that, Willy! Please don't ever g—" I start to say, my voice beginning to crack.

     "Come on, (Y/n), Noodle. I think Mr. Wonka needs to be alone," Abacus interrupts me.

     I don't want to leave Willy's side. I want to stay with him, to comfort him, to hug him and tell him that everything will be fine. But I know that Abacus is right. However, I'm not leaving without letting Willy know he's not alone. Mustering up what courage I could through the sadness burdening my heart, I give Willy a peck on the cheek.

(Willy's POV)

     I feel a slight blush rise to my cheeks when (Y/n) kisses my cheek, and I look at her, but she's already standing up to leave. I look back down at the chocolate bar Mamma made for me as (Y/n) and the others leave. I remember Mamma's words as I stand up and walk toward the ruined chocolate tree.

"Every good thing in this world started with a dream. So you hold onto yours. And when you do share chocolate with the world, I'll be right there beside you."

I feel tears fall down my cheeks. That's when I hear a familiar voice.

     "Terrible shame what happened here," Slugworth says.

     I wipe away my tears, and turn to see Slugworth, Fickelgruber, and Prodnose entering my shop. Fickelgruber is holding a briefcase.

     "I take it you're responsible?" I ask.

     "Us? Oh, no. Well, not personally. We may have 'encouraged' Mrs. Scrubitt to 'enhance' your creations," Slugworth replies.

     "We paid her to poison them," Prodnose says.

     "Yes, thank you, Gerald," Slugworth says.

     "You're welcome," Prodnose responds.

     Fickelgruber kneels down to open the briefcase.

     "So why have you come? To gloat?" I ask.

     "Oh, no, Mr. Wonka. I don't waste my time on that sort of thing. We've come to offer you a deal," Slugworth replies.

     Fickelgruber takes a bundle of bank notes out of the briefcase.

     "This is the precise amount you owe Mrs. Scrubitt," he says.

     He gives the bundle to Slugworth, and as he takes out the other bundles, he explains who they're for.

     "This is for the number-cruncher, the plumber, the telephonist, the so-called funny man, and these. . ." he takes out two bundles that are far bigger than the other ones. ". . . are for the girls."

     "Now we put in a bit extra for them. So they can get a place to live. Clothes. Toys. Books," Slugworth says.

     That word: books. (Y/n) and Noodle do love books very much, and I did make a promise to Noodle that she and (Y/n) wouldn't rot in that horrible place forever.

     "Oh, yes, Mr. Wonka. You could change their lives. Change all their lives," Slugworth continues.

     "What would I have to do?" I ask.

     "Leave town. Oh, and. .  never make chocolate again. There's a boat sailing at midnight. And for their sake, as much as your own, I hope you're on board," he responds.

I am unable to say anything. I have to leave town? Leave my friends? Leave (Y/n)? Even though the thought of leaving her really hurts, I know that I have no choice.