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ayyko-rona-yoo · 11 days

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So there is a taglist started to form in the comment section. Don't worry, I see y'all and y'all will be tagged when part 2 is out. If you want to be tagged - just ask wherever you comfortable (comments, my inbox or messages)

Love you all!❤️‍🔥

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Willy x Fem!Reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,887 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: The reader is only a year away from paying off her debt to Mrs. Scrubbit, so she is horrified by Willy's plan and refuses to participate. But it turns against her. The Chocolate Cartel and the laundry owner set her up, making everyone think she's responsible for the incident at the store. 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, slow relationship building, strangers to friends (not lovers yet), love-hate dynamics. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you so much to everyone who supported my idea of writing this fic. It means a lot to me. I'm wary of writing something big in English, but I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a comment or repost it and tell what you think about it. It's very important to me. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐲 (𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩). 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰.

One year. Only one year separates you from freedom. Every day you tried not to stand out, not to draw attention to yourself, and to comply with every ridiculous request of Mrs. Scrubbit. Any fine would keep you from paying your debt, so while Noodle fearlessly snapped at her and got locked up, you listened to every insult. Every humiliation, and remained obediently silent when you had to do more work than usual. You tried not to talk or get close to the others in the laundry. As the saying goes, you never know what other people have in mind. Any rash action by your colleagues could have led to you being punished along with them. Quiet and soft-spoken—that's how you could be described. Perhaps the others even got the impression that you were sucking up to Mrs. Scrubbit—you were the one she was least picky about.

But you didn't care what they thought of you. All you wanted was to get out of here as fast as you could. And your plan was working perfectly.

Until Willy showed up in the laundry. As soon as you heard an unfamiliar voice from across the room, you knew you were in trouble. An energetic dreamer with the firm conviction that he could get out of here, despite the fact that he'd been trapped here himself a few minutes ago, was the worst thing that could happen to you. You didn't even respond when Abacus called you over to introduce you to your new colleague.

You made a decision to avoid contact with him at all costs. But that was only the beginning of the problems. Toward evening, the question of where to put Willy arose since there were only six rooms. And since you lived on the 'men's side', Bleacher told you to pack your things and vacate the room. He didn't really care whose room you moved into. So you just sat in the hallway with all your stuff, planning to spend the night here. Or maybe the next too. You didn't even think about asking to move into someone else's room. Your eyes started to close, but then a voice came from above you:

"You can live with me if you want."

You opened your eyes and looked up. Noodle was standing next to you, followed by Lottie and Piper.

"Or with me," Benz said.

You stared at them wide-eyed. Lottie looked out from behind Piper and waved silently, as if to offer her help as well. You didn't understand why they were being so nice to you, since you'd barely spoken to them. It was unusual and unexpected for you. Something about their gesture made you feel warm in your chest, but you stopped the thought of agreeing despite that. You lowered your head and stared at the floor.

"No, thank you."

"Are you going to sleep on the floor here?" Benz asked jokingly, stepping closer and picking up your things, throwing them on her shoulder. "Let's go."

Contrary to your desire not to socialize with anyone, it became much harder after that. Now that you were living with Piper, it wasn't a good idea to ignore her completely. So 'good morning' and 'good night' became the beginning and end of every single day. But Benz has a way with people, so over time you began to giggle at her teasing, and afterwords to say some witty things back. Noodle used to come to your room a lot. You were sure she was a conflicted child, and you tried to have as little contact with her as possible because of that. But as you listened to her conversations with Piper in your room, as you unknowingly began to listen to the discussions in the laundry room that Noodle was involved in, you began to realize you'd been wrong. One day, she left a book on your desk. You sat down to rest after another hard day's work and stared at it. You picked it up carefully and flipped through a few pages. At one point, the text caught your eye, and you didn't notice you were reading the contents of the page when Noodle entered the room. You instantly put the book aside.

"Sorry, I—"

"I didn't know you liked books," she said with a smile. "You can keep it for now. You can return it when you've finished it."

The fear of being stuck here for much longer than you already were had given you a terribly wrong impression of the others. They weren't the walking problems you thought they were. None of them were out to cause conflict. The boundaries you had built around yourself began to crumble. Gradually, you began to feel the urge to speak up and discuss something with them too, but you always stopped yourself because you knew exactly what the others thought of you. You haven't said two words to most of them in years, and now you suddenly want to maintain a dialogue? That's bullshit.

But here's Willy… Watching him evoked mixed emotions; his energy and passion undoubtedly dispelled the grayness of the monotonous flow of time. He had a way of bringing smiles to the faces of others, and you'd be lying if you said he never once managed to make you smile either. Even if no one saw it. Maybe you were wrong about him, too, but you still thought it was dangerous to try to find out. For now.

When Noodle goes to town, you usually fill in for her and do all her work. Which means you're not in the laundry building. All you see and hear all day is Mrs. Scrubbit's discontent and Bleacher's swearing. It also means that you go to rest later than everyone else, when all your scrubber colleagues have gone to their rooms. Today, the owner of the laundry was in the mood to give you more work than usual. That's why you walk to the room you share with Benz, tired and woozy. All you can think about is resting. Falling onto your bed and getting a good night's sleep is the ultimate dream. But you immediately remember that there's only one bed in the room, and you and Piper take turns sleeping in it. And it's not yours tonight. The thought of sleeping on the floor made you sigh and whimper, but you kept up your pace and made your way to your luxurious apartment. When you finally reach the part of the building where the rooms are located, a small strip of light from under one of the doors on the 'men's side' catches your eye. Normally, you'd just walk through without paying attention to it—really, what do you care? But you stop and listen. At first, you think it's your imagination, but there are actually faint ticking sounds reaching your ears. You pull your eyebrows down to the bridge of your nose, listening harder, but that doesn't make the sounds any clearer. You shouldn't be interested, but you really are, so you turn in the opposite direction from your room and walk toward the sound and light. As you round the corner, you see that the causal door is slightly ajar, with dim light coming through the small gap. But the next thing you notice is that it's the door to Willy's room. As soon as you realize this, you want to turn around and leave; that's the last thing you need. But curiosity stops you again. You press your lips together in a thin line, vacillating between two decisions: go back or see what's going on. Eventually, you give up and give in to the urge to move a little closer and just listen—maybe peek through the gap—but leave immediately afterwards.

You slowly and quietly move closer. The ticking sounds are more distinct now, more like the sound of gears working. Afraid to get too close to the door, you lean forward, just enough to reach through the gap and look inside. You see Willy sitting across the table. The floor is littered with buckets, and the bed is broken. After looking around the room, your gaze returns to him again. All this time, you've been avoiding him at every opportunity, and when you still had to get past him, you lowered your head and sped up. So this is the first time you've ever looked at him so closely. The warm light of the wall lamp falls softly on his face. He's wearing a shirt that's obviously too big for him and the same mailman pants you overheard the story about in the laundry the other day. You can't help but admit that he is a rather attractive young man. Loud and naive? Yes, but handsome. You finally force yourself to take your eyes off his face and look at the source of that very sound. Honestly, you can't even tell what it is. There are lots of little shelves and vials with contents of different colors. A small, slightly faded picture of a smiling woman. You look closely and see the handle of a suitcase. The picture in your head comes together, and your mouth opens involuntarily in amazement. You sigh—such a miracle, and hidden in a plain old suitcase that this weirdo always carries around with him. You want to take a closer look at everything, and your back starts to hurt from your current position. You straighten up and take a step forward so that you can stand at full height behind the door. But the dilapidated wooden floor creaks under your foot. This sends you out of your trance and frightens you, because the next thing you see is the wide eyes of the guy, who almost jumps up on the spot in surprise, staring right at you. You step away from the door abruptly. For a second, you think about what to do, and then you turn around and start walking with a quick, wide stride, trying to get around the corner and run to your room as quickly as possible. But before you can take a few steps, a voice behind you calls out to you.

"Hey, wait!" Willy opens the door fully and walks out into the hallway after you. "Hey!"

You keep walking, wanting to ignore him as you always do, but you're the one who was standing outside his door a moment ago, quietly watching. You can't just walk away silently; you're caught. You stop, exhale nervously, and turn around, staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry, I heard strange noises and thought something was wrong. It won't happen again. Sorry again. Good night."

After a monotonous and emotionless answer, you want to turn around and walk away, staring at the floor, but Willy stops you again. You can hear the slight concern in his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so scared."

"I'm not scared," you reply.

"Your shoulders are shaking."

You raise your head in confusion and meet his gaze, still worried, but you immediately lower it back down. Really, you're shaking, your shoulders slumped, and your whole body clenched in anticipation of being grabbed by your clothes and dragged somewhere.

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to scold you or tell you off."

"You won't?" you say in a gruff voice, trying to sound less nervous.

"Sure, why should I?"

"I stood outside your door and watched what was going on inside."

"Well, you must have just been curious."

"I was. But I might have seen something I shouldn't."

Willy hummed thoughtfully.

"Yes, you might have." Willy leisurely takes a few steps in your direction. It's quiet for a moment. You look up again. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his striped pants. His expression is still pensive; he looks around, then fixes his gaze on you again and meets yours. You don't know why, but you wonder what he's going to say next. "What did you see?"

You don't answer. You just stare into his eyes without words, just as he does. He's literally one step away from you. His face is closer than ever before. You can get a better look at him, though not as well as you could because of the poorly lit hallway. He's attractive, perhaps too much so—it's going through your head again. After studying his facial features, your gaze fixes on his eyes. You can't tell what color they are. And you can't understand why you want to know. But he's studying you too. For him, this is also his first interaction with you. You can see his pupils moving; you're not sure exactly what he's looking at. But he's looking without taking his eyes off.

"From now on, close the door, Mr. Wonka." Your voice sounds quieter, calmer, and softer.

"It's not an escape from nosy people."

"Fair enough."

"So you admit that you were curious?" Willy asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You can't help but look away, chuckling and pressing your lips into a thin line to hold back a faint smile. You hear him chuckle as well. After a brief pause, he continues.

"This is the first time we talk."

You look at him again. Realizing the futility of trying to hold back a smile, you let the corners of your lips lift. You say nothing in response to that phrase. You want to, but you can't find the right words. Silence fills the space again.

"Good night." You say finally, and you take a slow step back, as if expecting him to say the same in return.

"Good night." Willy answers quietly with a smile, still not taking his eyes off you.

It's only when you get a few steps away from him that you finally force yourself to turn around. As you walk away, you listen, but there are no other sounds in the hallway besides your footsteps. And it's only when you round the corner that you hear footsteps telling you that he's going back to his room, too.

"What's wrong, Grumpy?" Benz's voice brings you back to reality. "You've been hanging up the same sheet for ten minutes now."

You stare at her with round eyes, blink a couple of times, and only then do you realize that you've actually been holding a wet piece of cloth over the rope all this time, forgetting that you still have a basket full of linens.

"Sorry. Got distracted."

"You? Distracted? Is our toughest scrubber colleague daydreaming?" the woman exclaims disbelievingly. No malice or attempt to hurt. Just genuinely surprised and wants to know the reason. She sits down on the bag of still-unwashed clothes in front of you and continues to ask. "Spit it out. What happened?"

"Nothing happened. What makes you think that?" You finally hang up the sheet and bend down to pick up the next one.

"No, no, no, something definitely did, because the only thing that can distract you from your work is Mrs. Scrubbit yelling at you and telling you to go do another one."

You stop, stare at Benz for a few seconds, and bend back to the laundry basket again. If you refuse to talk, she won't insist, so you're safe to remain silent. But you exhale and speak briefly.

"I talked to Wonka."

"You did?" Her eyebrows rise in surprise, and she leans forward a little. "When?"

"At night. After work."

"Wow... I had no idea!" Benz is back in her previous position. "How did this happen?"

"He was making a lot of noise, so I told him to close the door."

"No way, you spoke first?" You looked at her irritably, and she understood, changing the subject. "What can you say about him?"

You thought about it for a second.

"He's a nice guy. As it turned out."

"Well, you can tell he's good-natured," the woman leans over again and taps you lightly on the shoulder, "even if he is hyperactive."

At the same moment, as if to confirm her words, Willy flies into the main room of the laundry. Everyone, including you and Benz, shifts their gaze to him while he runs around and picks up random things. At one point, he runs past you and further to the wall, snatching the ladder from under Lottie's feet as he goes. Benz immediately jumps up and catches the girl.

Another one of his antics. You turn around and go back to work. What he does is not your business. As long as you don't get caught up in any of his crazy ideas. You may have overreacted before, seeing everything as a danger when, in fact, it wasn't. But you're still not going to let your guard down.

About an hour passed. From time to time, there were quiet, loud, and sharp noises behind the screen that separated Willy's workspace from yours. At one point, everyone but you crowded in front of it, whispering.

But then it suddenly opens. Everyone gasps in amazement. Willy starts gibbering something very fast and loud. The room fills with clattering mechanical sounds. You can't ignore it and turn your head in the direction of what's happening without leaving your workplace. What you see is truly astonishing: a washing construct that works thanks to Bleachers' running dog. And he built it in an hour? You weren't listening to what he was saying; all your attention was on this miraculous invention. Your amazement is interrupted by Wonka running by. You don't realize exactly what's going on until you hear the sound of the elevator that you all use for picking up the clean stuff upstairs. That's when you run up to the others to see for yourself what just happened. Pushing yourself between Abacus and Larry, you stare at the already-gone elevator with wide, horrified eyes. You turn to Benz.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming. Did he actually do it?"

Piper is shocked too, but only shrugs at your question.

"Do you see him anywhere around?"

You turn back to the elevator again and keep staring at it as if hoping that Willy is about to climb out of there and say it's all just a prank.

"Let's hope he comes back before roll call," Abacus said before heading back to his desk.

Larry wants to say something but stops, realizing that this isn't the right moment for a joke, especially in your presence. Lottie steps back, too, and Benz gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder, calling you to follow her. Yeah, you'd better get back to work. You haven't seen anything or heard anything. You weren't involved in anything. And if Wonka gets caught, you ain't going to be punished. Right? You rub your palms; they're cold and shaking. That's okay; a few more dozen pounds of laundry and it'll pass.

But, making your way back to your basket and the unhung stuff, you look again at the machine Willy has created. Bleachers' dog makes it work. A striped, light-colored piece of cloth is suspended in front of his muzzle.

Work has always saved you from your emotions. Whether it was anxiety or sadness, you always tired yourself out so that everything else faded into the background. And that's exactly what you did today. Your muscles ache, your body aches, and you can barely stand up during roll call. Willy made it in time after all. It's hard to believe he responds when Bleacher calls his name. Everyone in the line begins to disperse. But you're uneasy. So you stop and turn to Bleacher.

"I forgot to mop the floor in the main hall. Can I go and finish it?"

He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Noodle seems to have done everything already."

Failure, but you try again.

"That was two days ago."

The man sees something suspicious in you, squints for a second, but answers carelessly.

"If that's the case, okay. But don't take too long. Tiddles has been bored lately."

He smiles nastily and walks away. You exhale and turn around, heading down said hall.

Your hands are shaking, but not from fear or nerves, but from the icy water and the rag you spent more than an hour wiping the already clean floors with. You've given the last of your strength to putting the inventory back in place and reaching the building with the rooms. Your eyes are sleepy, and your legs can barely walk. But then, through your half-asleep state, you hear ticking sounds. Again. And this time, it's like they're a little louder. You shake your head in denial, telling yourself that you don't need to know anything more about it. But you can't take a step forward. Trying to resolve your internal argument, you decide to just peek around the corner and see if something really weird is going on this time. Nothing more.

You peek out just a little, but it's enough to see that the door to Willy's room is open. Completely open. Perhaps even unnaturally open—not like someone just forgot to close it. As if on purpose, inviting you to come over and see what's going on inside. You take a step back and shake your head again.

"No, no, no, no, don't even think about it," you say in a whisper.

You wrap your palms, wrinkled from being in the water so long and still shaking from its temperature, around your head and run your fingers through your hair, trying to calm your ambivalent feelings. Willy seems good-natured, but his actions scare you. And it keeps you from making a decision. You peek out from around the corner again and stare at the open door. The warm light from inside falls on the wall opposite. The rhythmic ticking sounds continue and seem too soothing to be frightening. You exhale tiredly and give up. Slowly, you walk to the door and think for a few seconds before taking another step forward and finding yourself in the doorway.

Willy sits at his desk just as he did yesterday, watching his little device work. The same shelves and vials are still in place, and it even looks as if new ones have been added to the existing ones. He doesn't notice you, which makes you think of leaving quietly. You don't know what words to use to get his attention, so you look away. To avoid feeling too awkward, you say:

"I thought I told you to start closing the door, Mr. Wonka."

He twitches a little at the surprise, distracted from what he was doing. At first, there's confusion on his face, but it's immediately replaced by a soft smile.

"You also said you were curious."

You smile a little when you hear that. Silence falls. And it lasts long enough to become uncomfortable. You're still looking at the walls, the floor, and the ceiling, but not at him. You're also questioning whether you should go into the room, so you're still standing in the doorway. Willy rubs his knees, hesitant to say anything, and goes back to watching the device work in front of him. You don't want to feel this tension any further, so you hesitantly step inside. Willy gives you a fleeting glance and returns it. You move even closer and stand in front of the table. You also begin to watch the device work. Watch the contents of the vials shimmer and sparkle. It is truly mesmerizing, and you can't look away.

"It's wonderful," you say in a whisper, leaning forward a little to get a better look.

"It is, isn't it?" Willy replies, smiling.

"What is it?" You ask just as quietly.

"My travel factory."

"A factory?" you chuckle, slightly confused. "A factory of what?

"Chocolate, of course," he says, turning to you. "Would you like to try some?"

You freeze, wondering what to say. No matter how beautiful the process looks, you hesitate to try the result. Especially since you have no idea what it's made of or what's in it, and you still don't trust Willy enough.

"Sounds dubious."

"Why?" Wonka was genuinely perplexed and then stood up abruptly, almost shouting the next words, "Don't tell me you've never had chocolate either!"

You twitch and stare at him with round eyes, a little surprised by his reaction.

"So I'm not the only one you're trying to poison, am I?" You sneer, but you see the look on his face that conveys so much emotion. Sensing that you might have hurt him with those words, you look away guiltily, answering his question, "How could I? I've never had the opportunity."

He immediately started to fuss.

"No, no, no, no, no, we have to fix this; how is that even possible?" You look at him again and see him starting to go through the colored vial. There's confusion on his face now; he doesn't know which to choose, so he looks at you again.

"What?" you ask.

Willy continues to stare. Suddenly, his indignation at the fact that you've never had chocolate is replaced by concern. He looks at you from head to toe, stopping at your hands.

"Hey, you're still shaking."

He involuntarily reaches for your hand, but you instinctively yank it away.

"The water was cold; it's okay." You rub your palm and look down at the floor.

Willy stops talking. His factory is finishing its work, and you hear a short zing announcing that the chocolate is ready. But he does nothing. He just remains silent and stares at you, paying no attention to anything else.

"The floor was clean, right?" He asks quietly, knowing he's right but still waiting a bit for you to answer, and when you don't, he continues, "Why are you doing this? You're exhausting yourself."

You keep staring at the floor, as if you're guilty of something. You're not sure if you should answer his questions, but you can feel his genuine concern. That's why the words come out of you by themselves.

"I don't know; it's... It's kind of a way to come to my senses. Calm down."

"Calm down?" Willy is confused. "Your hands are all blistered, and you can barely stand on your feet."

"That's the point—when there's nothing between work and sleep, there's simply no time for anxious thoughts."

"But it doesn't work, does it?"

You press your lips together, not wanting to admit the truth, but you nod, agreeing with what he says.

"You don't have to do this to yourself."

"I just don't know any other way." You shake your head in confirmation of your words and tear your eyes from the floor to look up at him. There's so much empathy on his face; you had no idea he was so empathetic.

"Do you feel anxious all the time?"

"Yes... actually." You give in and agree with him without trying to deny it.

Willy's eyes pass over your face for another second. Suddenly, his eyes widen and his mouth opens, as if he wants to say what has just occurred to him. He sits down again, pulls down some kind of lever, and then a prepared round multicolored candy falls out onto a small platform. Putting it in a large glass jar standing at the other edge of the table, he begins to go through his ingredients again and turns to you.

"Come on, sit down," he says, nodding at the second chair.

"What are you doing? - you ask.

"Something that will help you."

Still confused, you slowly sit up and watch his actions. Out of all the varieties, Willy finally chooses two small, light pink and light green bottles. After twirling them in his hands, he opens them and takes a deep breath before thinking for a second and mumbling quickly.

"Yes, this is it!"

The contents are then poured into his factory, which immediately starts working. Despite your confusion, you watch uninterruptedly. Now that "something that will help you" is in the making, silence falls again. And now you both really don't know what to say. You sigh, and your eyes fall on the photo of the smiling woman. Now you can take a closer look at it, which you do. Obviously Willy has followed your gaze, because pretty soon you hear him speak.

"Isn't she beautiful?" There is so much love and adoration in his voice that you immediately get that this is someone dear to him.

"Who is she?" you ask.

"My mom," just as you thought.

You look at him for a moment; his eyes seem to shine as he looks at this photo.

"It shows," you reply, "no one would look at another person with such adoration unless it's someone you're close to. You have identical smiles."

You turn to him and see that he's already looking at you. It's like he's picking up the words, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"If you want to tell some story about her, don't. Never tell a personal story about yourself, especially to people you're not close to and never will be."

Willy's eyebrows shift to the bridge of his nose.

"Why can't we ever be close?"

It's not the counter-question you expected, and you don't have a straight answer. You guess what he might be thinking, so you clarify.

"It's not because I dislike you. It's..."

"I see," he interrupts you, "you're just following your own rules. It's okay." A smile appears on his face, but it's a little sad. "It's the same reason you won't tell me why you're so obedient to these two monsters and dare not cross them in anything, right?

You don't give an answer, but your heavy sigh tells Willy that he's right.

"You're too smart for a simpleton dreamer," you finally say.

"You think I'm a simpleton?"

"You are."

"Well, in that case, I can call you a grumpy—" He is interrupted by a zinging sound, and he turns his attention back to the factory. He lowers a lever, and a small chocolate candy in the shape of a flower with a few leaves falls onto the platform. Willy picks it up carefully, examines it a bit, and holds it out to you. "Come on, try it!"

You look at him and then at the candy, hesitating to accept it.

"Don't you want to tell me first what effect it will have?"

But he just holds out his hand closer.

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Come on!"

You don't know why you agree to this, because you could just get up and leave without getting involved in all this, but you don't. You just frown slightly, hesitantly taking the chocolate from his hand and examining it. It's a light pink flower with little green leaves around it. You look at Willy one last time, asking for confirmation that it's safe, to which he nods with a smile, eager to hear what you have to say after you've tasted it.

You put the chocolate in your mouth and hesitantly take a bite. An unfamiliar flavor fills your mouth. A flavor you've never experienced before, and you regret it more and more with each passing second. Your expression begins to change as something else comes along with the taste. Something you haven't felt in a very long time. Peace. It spills over your body, as if you just drank hot tea and can now finally warm up. All the anxiety that has been with you up until this moment seems to disappear. Your eyes, full of incomprehension as to how this is possible, are fixed on Willy, who is smiling back at you. You can't look at him for a long time because your emotions don't allow you to concentrate. You lower your head down a little and immerse yourself in the feeling. It feels like you're free. Never in your life have you felt so free of resentment and constant fear. It feels like too much for you. A tear unconsciously begins to run down your cheek, then another and another. You start to sob, which Willy notices immediately.

"Hey? Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asks in a worried voice, leaning toward you. The sudden crying makes you drop your head even lower, so he gets up from his chair and gets down on one knee in front of you, trying to look into your face. "Why are you crying?" he asks in a whisper.

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I feel so calm... Like never before in my life..."

Willy sees your confusion over your own emotions. A warm smile appears on his face. Gingerly, he reaches out his hand to your face, afraid to frighten you with such a gesture. But it's as if you don't notice what he's about to do, so he goes on and touches your cheek gently with his fingers. Only then do you realize what he's doing, and you look up at him, not trying to push him away or avoid his touch. He reaches out with his other hand to wipe the tears from your other cheek. But he doesn't take his hands away after that, continuing to hold your face in his palms.

"You know," you continue suddenly, and Willy tilts his head a little, showing that he's listening, "it's like I don't care about Mrs. Scrubbits' dirty floors anymore," you say with a faint smile.

Willy chuckles at that.

"You know," he says with a smile, "you're not a grumpy. Well, maybe a little."

Now it's your turn to giggle, which you do, putting your head down again, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You better put your head down when you're shy," Williy, still holding your face in his palms, gently returns it to its previous position, "not when you're told to go scrub the floors."

"I'm not shy," you protest, and add, "and about the floor... No one has cleaned it here since I gave you this room, so you'd better get off your knees, Mr. Wonka."

Willy makes a thoughtful face, is silent for a few seconds, and then, tilting his head sharply to the side, replies.

"I don't want to. It's actually quite comfortable. Besides, what if you cry again?" Saying this, he wipes away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

"I'm not some crybaby, Mr. Wonka." You answer seriously.

"I didn't say that," he says with a smile.

You are silent again, but the silence doesn't seem tense. After a while, you ask with a little sadness.

"It's only temporary, right?"

"I'm not sure how long the effect will last, but you're right." Willy nods but tries to encourage you: "But I can make more for you when you need."

"Why would you do that? To help some random, rude, and fearful girl who does nothing but wash rags and grovel before the owners of this hellhole."

"I want to share my chocolate with people," he replies as if it were obvious, "to make people happy."

"I'm not the one who deserves it."

"Why do you say that? You—"

"I'm serious," you interrupt him. "You already have limited resources; you're stuck here without any means of sustenance. How are you going to—"

"I'm going to sell chocolate," he interrupts you this time. "I can make enough to free you all—"

"Why the hell would you do that?!" You can't help but raise your voice. Realizing that you've overreacted and seeing Willy's confused face, you take a deep breath and exhale, trying to calm down, but you're still annoyed by his nonchalance. "You've only known them all for a week, and you're already willing to sacrifice so much for them?"

"Not just them, you too."

"Is that why you did that nonsense today?" You don't let him say anything. "Willy, it's dangerous; you shouldn't do it—"

"But it's okay—"

"It was okay this time. What about next? If you're so empathetic, think about how your actions will affect others."

Willy stares at you silently. There's no fear in your eyes; the sedative candy is still working, but you're thinking ahead. You assume what might happen and wait for the worst-case scenario.

"Why are you so afraid of this?" He asks in a whisper, "It could work, and you could all be free."

"It could," you answer, taking his wrists and pulling his hands away from your face, "but it won't. I have reason to think so and know it will, so please don't drag me into this. You have the right to do what you want, but my advice to you is to leave it. Think of yourself, not others."

"Does thinking of yourself mean eating slops and washing someone else's dirty laundry all day long just because those monsters think they have the right to force you?"

Tears form in your eyes again, and Willy instantly regrets his words. You don't give him a chance to apologize.

"If it gets me out of here faster, yes. If I have to wash dirty laundry in this slop first and then eat it for dinner, but it gets me out of here faster, I will. Because I think of myself. And I won't explain what drives me, because I think of myself. And if something happens to you and everyone else, I'll do anything to whitewash myself, even if it's to the detriment of those around me. Because I only think of myself."

You get up, leaving Willy on the floor. You walk to the door, and without turning around, you add.

"Again, do whatever you want, but don't drag me into this."

You walk out of the room and see all your colleagues: Abacus and Larry sticking their heads out of their rooms, and Benz, Lottie, and Noodle from around the corner at the end of the hallway. As soon as they see you, they immediately go back into their rooms. Only Noodle looks at you for another few seconds and then leaves.

Later that night, you heard their discussion. One by one, they agreed to participate in Wonka's plan. At one point, someone mentioned your name; you couldn't hear who, but they all went silent at once. You heard a rustle, which meant that Benz had turned and was looking at you. Soon she turned away, and the discussion continued while you, all curled up on the floor and wrapped in a thin blanket, tried to sleep and not listen to them.

The next day, you were alone in the laundry. You didn't have time to cross paths with anyone, but you suspected that even if you did, no one would say hello to you. And so they did. All the kindness that everyone had been trying to show you lately was gone. No one said hello to you. No one said goodnight. And if they had to hand over something to you, they first argued with each other about who would do it, and then one of them quietly walked by and carelessly placed it next to you. You became an outcast again, but this time the situation was worse. Before, it was you who didn't want contact with everyone. Now it was everyone who didn't want contact with you. But that's for the best, you thought. Now the likelihood of the trouble they might cause getting around you is much higher. That's what you thought. And maybe you shouldn't have.

You stand in front of your room, confused: the inside is a mess, your things are scattered, and your sleeping place on the floor looks like it's been trampled on for hours with the dirtiest boots. The few personal items you had on your desk look like they've been searched, and the book Noodle lent you is gone. You don't understand anything that has happened or is happening. You leave the building with the rooms and walk to the laundry, hoping to get an explanation from someone. With each step, your confusion is replaced by anger.

You burst into the laundry room and meet the gaze of all your colleagues. Everyone's face is grim and disappointed, but no one says anything.

"What the hell happened in my room?"

"In my room," Benz corrects you, looking at you reproachfully.

The others are silent too, looking at you in the same way.

"No one's going to explain to me?" Your anger is rising.

"Aren't you going to explain to us?" Noodle answers a question with a question and raises her hand, holding a small vial of blue liquid. "Why did you do it?"

"Did what?" You have absolutely no understanding of the situation you're in.

"Don't play dumb!" Noodle shouts out, a strong resentment in her voice, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "You poisoned all of Willy's chocolate!"

"What? I did what? What chocolate?"

"Yeti's sweat was among your stuff," Piper adds.

"That's serious evidence." Lottie chimes in.

"Exactly," Abacus concludes.

"What are you all talking about?" Your bewilderment peaks. "I have no idea what's going on—"

"You don't know what's going on?" Benz steps forward, "Oh, you do. Congratulations! Your and Mrs. Scrubbits' plan worked—Willy's store is trashed and his reputation is ruined."

You're chuckling nervously. So that means it wasn't Scrubbit or Bleacher who went through your stuff; it was them. They found some vial that you've never seen before, and now they're confronting you with the fact that you're to blame for all the trouble they've gotten themselves into.

"So," you keep chuckling as you speak, at the absurdity of the situation, "there was some kind of disaster at some store that I'm hearing about for the first time. The first and apparently only suspect on your list was me, and the final proof of my guilt for you was some blue slurry found in my things? What is this nonsense? What do I have to do with this, and what does it have to do with Mrs. Scrubbit—"

"Because you never liked Willy." Noodle interrupts you, "You made it clear that you wouldn't go along with his plan because it might get you in trouble. So you helped the Chocolate Cartel and Mrs. Scrubbit. Willy wanted to help you too; he wanted to pay your debt for you, and you did this to him." Now tears were streaming down her cheeks.

You look around the room in shock. Everyone nods, agreeing with Noodle and showing that they are of the same opinion. You take a step back, not believing what's happening. There are so many thoughts and words running through your head that you want to say, but no sooner do you start than you hear a voice behind you.

"Was that you?" You turn around and see Willy speaking quietly.

The others look at him as well. He looks at you, then at Noodle and the vial in her hand. His eyes are filled with tears that seem about to run down his cheeks. There is despair, pain, disappointment, anger, and more on his face, and there are so many of these emotions that he can't figure out which one to let out. You turn to him.

"Do you think it's me, too?"

He is silent. Doesn't look at you and remains silent. But you understand very well, even without words.

"So that's how it is." It's your turn to speak up, and you're going to do it to the fullest. "In the end, it's my fault. Right? Guilty because I'm uncooperative. Because I'm hard to connect with, isn't it?" Everyone is silent, and you just continue. "Of course, a witch like me ends up being responsible for everything!"

"Y/N—" Abacus tries to stop you.

"What now?" You don't let him finish. "Everyone's had a chance to speak, and I can't? No, now it's my turn. I can understand that I'm not a nice person, but I didn't expect you to see me as pure evil." You look at each of them. They all lower their heads. "I have principles. 'Willy wanted to help you, and you did this'—did what? A choice in my favor? It turns out I was wrong. It still led to the last thing I wanted. The thing I was most afraid of. I never said or showed that I didn't like Willy. I feared his actions because they were risky and reckless and could lead to unintended consequences, and they did! I was horrified by what he was up to and what you agreed to! And do you know why? " You take a step further." One year. I only had one year left to sit in this goddamn hole! You all know I've been here for about as long as Noodle. For as long as I can remember, I've been groveling to them. I've catered to their every whim and suffered their every humiliation. And it paid off. I was able to reduce my debt, and I was terrified that any misstep by me or anyone else could destroy everything I had worked so hard to achieve. I feared you and your actions because I had my reasons. I'm not inhuman enough to organize something like this, but you know what? You're right about one thing: I would do it if it meant I could get out of here this very second. But I'm still here. And nobody was going to make me an offer like that. If you think I'm responsible, that's your right. But my conscience is clear.

You stop, feeling like you've used up all the air in your lungs. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks. Everyone in the room doesn't say a word; they just look at you or stare at the floor. You can see that your speech had an effect, but unfortunately, it's obvious that it didn't change anyone's mind. You can see the surprise on their faces at what they have heard—it is not every day that you hear such revelations, but for them, your involvement in the events that you did not fully understand is proven and is an irrefutable fact. You realize that there is no way you can win here and prove anything. So you take one last look at your colleagues and turn to Willy. A small tear runs down his cheek. He quickly wipes it away with the palm of his hand. You walk over to him and stop for a moment. You expect him to at least look at you, but he doesn't, so you add before heading for the exit.

"Remember me until the moment you're ready for revenge, Mr. Wonka." Willy lifts his head involuntarily and looks you in the eye. "I have a feeling you'll come for me sooner or later."

With that, you walk past him and outside. The cold immediately envelops your body, but you don't care. Everything is going to hell, so why not let everything go to hell?

His eyes are green. For some reason, you saw and realized that just a few moments ago. For some reason, that's what's going through your mind right now. For some reason, you feel an incredibly intense heartache, and the tears fill your eyes again, blurring everything around you.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @go-punk-pumpkin-spice (I'm glad you're interested!)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

#timothee chamalet #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #timothée chalamet

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 15 days

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Okay, you know what. I came to Tumblr for concrete reasons and characters. And for a few months, I sat back in peace and just enjoyed my darlings that I already knew, but...

In just three days, or I don't know what time exactly, my entire 'for you' page was filled with fics with hot men and their characters I didn't even know existed😭

This is hilarious. In a matter of days, Tumblr has made me obsessed with men on the following tags. How, for what, and why am I so grateful for this?

#hayden christensen #rafe cameron #tim bradford

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 16 days

Note

Oh my god. ‘The misunderstanding has green eyes’ was BEAUTIFULLY written. Please tell me there’s more parts. There’s rare of angst with the recent wonka and yours is one of the best. The writing style is amazing too. Looking forward to more <3

Hii! Thank you for the feedback! I almost cry when you guys tell me that my writing is good. As a non-native speaker, I'm very grateful, and I'm glad to hear that you like it! At first, I was afraid to write and post something in English because I thought it would be odd to read. My friends and family say that I have a very difficult style of writing, and I agree with them, but it makes it even harder to translate. So, long story short, I am happy that you liked my work.

And yes! It would be part 2! I haven't started it yet. Work on the first one was very exhausting due to translation (that I did by myself), but I liked the process. Personally, I don't really like to separate one story into chapters. I like to read and write the whole thing at once. But I realized that I can't wait to post it, and maybe I'll catch creative burnout if I keep forcing myself to write until the very end. So I decided to do it that way. I need a little rest after this, and I also have other things to do, like documentation and game projects for my college. Also, I'm in the process of writing my first book. But I'm sure I'll find time to let you know how this will end.

Lot's of love!❤️‍🔥

#Rona's here

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 25 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

But you didn't care what they thought of you. All you wanted was to get out of here as fast as you could. And your plan was working perfectly.

"You can live with me if you want."

You opened your eyes and looked up. Noodle was standing next to you, followed by Lottie and Piper.

"Or with me," Benz said.

"No, thank you."

"Are you going to sleep on the floor here?" Benz asked jokingly, stepping closer and picking up your things, throwing them on her shoulder. "Let's go."

"Sorry, I—"

"I didn't know you liked books," she said with a smile. "You can keep it for now. You can return it when you've finished it."

"Hey, wait!" Willy opens the door fully and walks out into the hallway after you. "Hey!"

"I'm sorry, I heard strange noises and thought something was wrong. It won't happen again. Sorry again. Good night."

After a monotonous and emotionless answer, you want to turn around and walk away, staring at the floor, but Willy stops you again. You can hear the slight concern in his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so scared."

"I'm not scared," you reply.

"Your shoulders are shaking."

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to scold you or tell you off."

"You won't?" you say in a gruff voice, trying to sound less nervous.

"Sure, why should I?"

"I stood outside your door and watched what was going on inside."

"Well, you must have just been curious."

"I was. But I might have seen something I shouldn't."

Willy hummed thoughtfully.

"From now on, close the door, Mr. Wonka." Your voice sounds quieter, calmer, and softer.

"It's not an escape from nosy people."

"Fair enough."

"So you admit that you were curious?" Willy asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You can't help but look away, chuckling and pressing your lips into a thin line to hold back a faint smile. You hear him chuckle as well. After a brief pause, he continues.

"This is the first time we talk."

"Good night." You say finally, and you take a slow step back, as if expecting him to say the same in return.

"Good night." Willy answers quietly with a smile, still not taking his eyes off you.

"What's wrong, Grumpy?" Benz's voice brings you back to reality. "You've been hanging up the same sheet for ten minutes now."

"Sorry. Got distracted."

"Nothing happened. What makes you think that?" You finally hang up the sheet and bend down to pick up the next one.

"No, no, no, something definitely did, because the only thing that can distract you from your work is Mrs. Scrubbit yelling at you and telling you to go do another one."

You stop, stare at Benz for a few seconds, and bend back to the laundry basket again. If you refuse to talk, she won't insist, so you're safe to remain silent. But you exhale and speak briefly.

"I talked to Wonka."

"You did?" Her eyebrows rise in surprise, and she leans forward a little. "When?"

"At night. After work."

"Wow... I had no idea!" Benz is back in her previous position. "How did this happen?"

"He was making a lot of noise, so I told him to close the door."

"No way, you spoke first?" You looked at her irritably, and she understood, changing the subject. "What can you say about him?"

You thought about it for a second.

"He's a nice guy. As it turned out."

"Well, you can tell he's good-natured," the woman leans over again and taps you lightly on the shoulder, "even if he is hyperactive."

"Tell me I'm not dreaming. Did he actually do it?"

Piper is shocked too, but only shrugs at your question.

"Do you see him anywhere around?"

You turn back to the elevator again and keep staring at it as if hoping that Willy is about to climb out of there and say it's all just a prank.

"Let's hope he comes back before roll call," Abacus said before heading back to his desk.

"I forgot to mop the floor in the main hall. Can I go and finish it?"

He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Noodle seems to have done everything already."

Failure, but you try again.

"That was two days ago."

The man sees something suspicious in you, squints for a second, but answers carelessly.

"If that's the case, okay. But don't take too long. Tiddles has been bored lately."

He smiles nastily and walks away. You exhale and turn around, heading down said hall.

"No, no, no, no, don't even think about it," you say in a whisper.

"I thought I told you to start closing the door, Mr. Wonka."

He twitches a little at the surprise, distracted from what he was doing. At first, there's confusion on his face, but it's immediately replaced by a soft smile.

"You also said you were curious."

"It's wonderful," you say in a whisper, leaning forward a little to get a better look.

"It is, isn't it?" Willy replies, smiling.

"What is it?" You ask just as quietly.

"My travel factory."

"A factory?" you chuckle, slightly confused. "A factory of what?

"Chocolate, of course," he says, turning to you. "Would you like to try some?"

"Sounds dubious."

"Why?" Wonka was genuinely perplexed and then stood up abruptly, almost shouting the next words, "Don't tell me you've never had chocolate either!"

You twitch and stare at him with round eyes, a little surprised by his reaction.

He immediately started to fuss.

"What?" you ask.

Willy continues to stare. Suddenly, his indignation at the fact that you've never had chocolate is replaced by concern. He looks at you from head to toe, stopping at your hands.

"Hey, you're still shaking."

He involuntarily reaches for your hand, but you instinctively yank it away.

"The water was cold; it's okay." You rub your palm and look down at the floor.

"The floor was clean, right?" He asks quietly, knowing he's right but still waiting a bit for you to answer, and when you don't, he continues, "Why are you doing this? You're exhausting yourself."

"I don't know; it's... It's kind of a way to come to my senses. Calm down."

"Calm down?" Willy is confused. "Your hands are all blistered, and you can barely stand on your feet."

"That's the point—when there's nothing between work and sleep, there's simply no time for anxious thoughts."

"But it doesn't work, does it?"

You press your lips together, not wanting to admit the truth, but you nod, agreeing with what he says.

"You don't have to do this to yourself."

"Do you feel anxious all the time?"

"Yes... actually." You give in and agree with him without trying to deny it.

"Come on, sit down," he says, nodding at the second chair.

"What are you doing? - you ask.

"Something that will help you."

"Yes, this is it!"

"Isn't she beautiful?" There is so much love and adoration in his voice that you immediately get that this is someone dear to him.

"Who is she?" you ask.

"My mom," just as you thought.

You look at him for a moment; his eyes seem to shine as he looks at this photo.

"It shows," you reply, "no one would look at another person with such adoration unless it's someone you're close to. You have identical smiles."

You turn to him and see that he's already looking at you. It's like he's picking up the words, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"If you want to tell some story about her, don't. Never tell a personal story about yourself, especially to people you're not close to and never will be."

Willy's eyebrows shift to the bridge of his nose.

"Why can't we ever be close?"

It's not the counter-question you expected, and you don't have a straight answer. You guess what he might be thinking, so you clarify.

"It's not because I dislike you. It's..."

You don't give an answer, but your heavy sigh tells Willy that he's right.

"You're too smart for a simpleton dreamer," you finally say.

"You think I'm a simpleton?"

"You are."

You look at him and then at the candy, hesitating to accept it.

"Don't you want to tell me first what effect it will have?"

But he just holds out his hand closer.

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Come on!"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I feel so calm... Like never before in my life..."

"You know," you continue suddenly, and Willy tilts his head a little, showing that he's listening, "it's like I don't care about Mrs. Scrubbits' dirty floors anymore," you say with a faint smile.

Willy chuckles at that.

"You know," he says with a smile, "you're not a grumpy. Well, maybe a little."

Now it's your turn to giggle, which you do, putting your head down again, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You better put your head down when you're shy," Williy, still holding your face in his palms, gently returns it to its previous position, "not when you're told to go scrub the floors."

"I'm not shy," you protest, and add, "and about the floor... No one has cleaned it here since I gave you this room, so you'd better get off your knees, Mr. Wonka."

Willy makes a thoughtful face, is silent for a few seconds, and then, tilting his head sharply to the side, replies.

"I don't want to. It's actually quite comfortable. Besides, what if you cry again?" Saying this, he wipes away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

"I'm not some crybaby, Mr. Wonka." You answer seriously.

"I didn't say that," he says with a smile.

You are silent again, but the silence doesn't seem tense. After a while, you ask with a little sadness.

"It's only temporary, right?"

"I'm not sure how long the effect will last, but you're right." Willy nods but tries to encourage you: "But I can make more for you when you need."

"Why would you do that? To help some random, rude, and fearful girl who does nothing but wash rags and grovel before the owners of this hellhole."

"I want to share my chocolate with people," he replies as if it were obvious, "to make people happy."

"I'm not the one who deserves it."

"Why do you say that? You—"

"I'm serious," you interrupt him. "You already have limited resources; you're stuck here without any means of sustenance. How are you going to—"

"I'm going to sell chocolate," he interrupts you this time. "I can make enough to free you all—"

"Not just them, you too."

"Is that why you did that nonsense today?" You don't let him say anything. "Willy, it's dangerous; you shouldn't do it—"

"But it's okay—"

"It was okay this time. What about next? If you're so empathetic, think about how your actions will affect others."

Willy stares at you silently. There's no fear in your eyes; the sedative candy is still working, but you're thinking ahead. You assume what might happen and wait for the worst-case scenario.

"Why are you so afraid of this?" He asks in a whisper, "It could work, and you could all be free."

"Does thinking of yourself mean eating slops and washing someone else's dirty laundry all day long just because those monsters think they have the right to force you?"

Tears form in your eyes again, and Willy instantly regrets his words. You don't give him a chance to apologize.

You get up, leaving Willy on the floor. You walk to the door, and without turning around, you add.

"Again, do whatever you want, but don't drag me into this."

You burst into the laundry room and meet the gaze of all your colleagues. Everyone's face is grim and disappointed, but no one says anything.

"What the hell happened in my room?"

"In my room," Benz corrects you, looking at you reproachfully.

The others are silent too, looking at you in the same way.

"No one's going to explain to me?" Your anger is rising.

"Aren't you going to explain to us?" Noodle answers a question with a question and raises her hand, holding a small vial of blue liquid. "Why did you do it?"

"Did what?" You have absolutely no understanding of the situation you're in.

"Don't play dumb!" Noodle shouts out, a strong resentment in her voice, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "You poisoned all of Willy's chocolate!"

"What? I did what? What chocolate?"

"Yeti's sweat was among your stuff," Piper adds.

"That's serious evidence." Lottie chimes in.

"Exactly," Abacus concludes.

"What are you all talking about?" Your bewilderment peaks. "I have no idea what's going on—"

"You don't know what's going on?" Benz steps forward, "Oh, you do. Congratulations! Your and Mrs. Scrubbits' plan worked—Willy's store is trashed and his reputation is ruined."

"Was that you?" You turn around and see Willy speaking quietly.

"Do you think it's me, too?"

He is silent. Doesn't look at you and remains silent. But you understand very well, even without words.

"Y/N—" Abacus tries to stop you.

"Remember me until the moment you're ready for revenge, Mr. Wonka." Willy lifts his head involuntarily and looks you in the eye. "I have a feeling you'll come for me sooner or later."

With that, you walk past him and outside. The cold immediately envelops your body, but you don't care. Everything is going to hell, so why not let everything go to hell?

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @go-punk-pumpkin-spice (I'm glad you're interested!)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

#willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #wonka 2023 #wonka #wonka fanfic #wonka x you #willy wonka x you #timothee chalamet x reader #wonka timothee

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 28 days

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Hi I just wanted to say that the misunderstanding has green eyes was amazing. Like literally fantastic. That’s all!

Omg, thank you so much!!💖 It means a lot to me! 🥹 Glad you enjoyed reading!

Just because of these words I want to work harder and write more for you!

#Rona's here

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 28 days

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i’ve been cursed

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ayyko-rona-yoo · 29 days

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

But you didn't care what they thought of you. All you wanted was to get out of here as fast as you could. And your plan was working perfectly.

"You can live with me if you want."

You opened your eyes and looked up. Noodle was standing next to you, followed by Lottie and Piper.

"Or with me," Benz said.

"No, thank you."

"Are you going to sleep on the floor here?" Benz asked jokingly, stepping closer and picking up your things, throwing them on her shoulder. "Let's go."

"Sorry, I—"

"I didn't know you liked books," she said with a smile. "You can keep it for now. You can return it when you've finished it."

"Hey, wait!" Willy opens the door fully and walks out into the hallway after you. "Hey!"

"I'm sorry, I heard strange noises and thought something was wrong. It won't happen again. Sorry again. Good night."

After a monotonous and emotionless answer, you want to turn around and walk away, staring at the floor, but Willy stops you again. You can hear the slight concern in his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so scared."

"I'm not scared," you reply.

"Your shoulders are shaking."

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to scold you or tell you off."

"You won't?" you say in a gruff voice, trying to sound less nervous.

"Sure, why should I?"

"I stood outside your door and watched what was going on inside."

"Well, you must have just been curious."

"I was. But I might have seen something I shouldn't."

Willy hummed thoughtfully.

"From now on, close the door, Mr. Wonka." Your voice sounds quieter, calmer, and softer.

"It's not an escape from nosy people."

"Fair enough."

"So you admit that you were curious?" Willy asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You can't help but look away, chuckling and pressing your lips into a thin line to hold back a faint smile. You hear him chuckle as well. After a brief pause, he continues.

"This is the first time we talk."

"Good night." You say finally, and you take a slow step back, as if expecting him to say the same in return.

"Good night." Willy answers quietly with a smile, still not taking his eyes off you.

"What's wrong, Grumpy?" Benz's voice brings you back to reality. "You've been hanging up the same sheet for ten minutes now."

"Sorry. Got distracted."

"Nothing happened. What makes you think that?" You finally hang up the sheet and bend down to pick up the next one.

"No, no, no, something definitely did, because the only thing that can distract you from your work is Mrs. Scrubbit yelling at you and telling you to go do another one."

You stop, stare at Benz for a few seconds, and bend back to the laundry basket again. If you refuse to talk, she won't insist, so you're safe to remain silent. But you exhale and speak briefly.

"I talked to Wonka."

"You did?" Her eyebrows rise in surprise, and she leans forward a little. "When?"

"At night. After work."

"Wow... I had no idea!" Benz is back in her previous position. "How did this happen?"

"He was making a lot of noise, so I told him to close the door."

"No way, you spoke first?" You looked at her irritably, and she understood, changing the subject. "What can you say about him?"

You thought about it for a second.

"He's a nice guy. As it turned out."

"Well, you can tell he's good-natured," the woman leans over again and taps you lightly on the shoulder, "even if he is hyperactive."

"Tell me I'm not dreaming. Did he actually do it?"

Piper is shocked too, but only shrugs at your question.

"Do you see him anywhere around?"

You turn back to the elevator again and keep staring at it as if hoping that Willy is about to climb out of there and say it's all just a prank.

"Let's hope he comes back before roll call," Abacus said before heading back to his desk.

"I forgot to mop the floor in the main hall. Can I go and finish it?"

He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Noodle seems to have done everything already."

Failure, but you try again.

"That was two days ago."

The man sees something suspicious in you, squints for a second, but answers carelessly.

"If that's the case, okay. But don't take too long. Tiddles has been bored lately."

He smiles nastily and walks away. You exhale and turn around, heading down said hall.

"No, no, no, no, don't even think about it," you say in a whisper.

"I thought I told you to start closing the door, Mr. Wonka."

He twitches a little at the surprise, distracted from what he was doing. At first, there's confusion on his face, but it's immediately replaced by a soft smile.

"You also said you were curious."

"It's wonderful," you say in a whisper, leaning forward a little to get a better look.

"It is, isn't it?" Willy replies, smiling.

"What is it?" You ask just as quietly.

"My travel factory."

"A factory?" you chuckle, slightly confused. "A factory of what?

"Chocolate, of course," he says, turning to you. "Would you like to try some?"

"Sounds dubious."

"Why?" Wonka was genuinely perplexed and then stood up abruptly, almost shouting the next words, "Don't tell me you've never had chocolate either!"

You twitch and stare at him with round eyes, a little surprised by his reaction.

He immediately started to fuss.

"What?" you ask.

Willy continues to stare. Suddenly, his indignation at the fact that you've never had chocolate is replaced by concern. He looks at you from head to toe, stopping at your hands.

"Hey, you're still shaking."

He involuntarily reaches for your hand, but you instinctively yank it away.

"The water was cold; it's okay." You rub your palm and look down at the floor.

"The floor was clean, right?" He asks quietly, knowing he's right but still waiting a bit for you to answer, and when you don't, he continues, "Why are you doing this? You're exhausting yourself."

"I don't know; it's... It's kind of a way to come to my senses. Calm down."

"Calm down?" Willy is confused. "Your hands are all blistered, and you can barely stand on your feet."

"That's the point—when there's nothing between work and sleep, there's simply no time for anxious thoughts."

"But it doesn't work, does it?"

You press your lips together, not wanting to admit the truth, but you nod, agreeing with what he says.

"You don't have to do this to yourself."

"Do you feel anxious all the time?"

"Yes... actually." You give in and agree with him without trying to deny it.

"Come on, sit down," he says, nodding at the second chair.

"What are you doing? - you ask.

"Something that will help you."

"Yes, this is it!"

"Isn't she beautiful?" There is so much love and adoration in his voice that you immediately get that this is someone dear to him.

"Who is she?" you ask.

"My mom," just as you thought.

You look at him for a moment; his eyes seem to shine as he looks at this photo.

"It shows," you reply, "no one would look at another person with such adoration unless it's someone you're close to. You have identical smiles."

You turn to him and see that he's already looking at you. It's like he's picking up the words, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"If you want to tell some story about her, don't. Never tell a personal story about yourself, especially to people you're not close to and never will be."

Willy's eyebrows shift to the bridge of his nose.

"Why can't we ever be close?"

It's not the counter-question you expected, and you don't have a straight answer. You guess what he might be thinking, so you clarify.

"It's not because I dislike you. It's..."

You don't give an answer, but your heavy sigh tells Willy that he's right.

"You're too smart for a simpleton dreamer," you finally say.

"You think I'm a simpleton?"

"You are."

You look at him and then at the candy, hesitating to accept it.

"Don't you want to tell me first what effect it will have?"

But he just holds out his hand closer.

"You'll have to find out for yourself. Come on!"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I feel so calm... Like never before in my life..."

"You know," you continue suddenly, and Willy tilts his head a little, showing that he's listening, "it's like I don't care about Mrs. Scrubbits' dirty floors anymore," you say with a faint smile.

Willy chuckles at that.

"You know," he says with a smile, "you're not a grumpy. Well, maybe a little."

Now it's your turn to giggle, which you do, putting your head down again, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You better put your head down when you're shy," Williy, still holding your face in his palms, gently returns it to its previous position, "not when you're told to go scrub the floors."

"I'm not shy," you protest, and add, "and about the floor... No one has cleaned it here since I gave you this room, so you'd better get off your knees, Mr. Wonka."

Willy makes a thoughtful face, is silent for a few seconds, and then, tilting his head sharply to the side, replies.

"I don't want to. It's actually quite comfortable. Besides, what if you cry again?" Saying this, he wipes away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

"I'm not some crybaby, Mr. Wonka." You answer seriously.

"I didn't say that," he says with a smile.

You are silent again, but the silence doesn't seem tense. After a while, you ask with a little sadness.

"It's only temporary, right?"

"I'm not sure how long the effect will last, but you're right." Willy nods but tries to encourage you: "But I can make more for you when you need."

"Why would you do that? To help some random, rude, and fearful girl who does nothing but wash rags and grovel before the owners of this hellhole."

"I want to share my chocolate with people," he replies as if it was obvious, "to make people happy."

"I'm not the one who deserves it."

"Why do you say that? You—"

"I'm serious," you interrupt him. "You already have limited resources; you're stuck here without any means of sustenance. How are you going to—"

"I'm going to sell chocolate," he interrupts you this time. "I can make enough to free you all—"

"Not just them, you too."

"Is that why you did that nonsense today?" You don't let him say anything. "Willy, it's dangerous; you shouldn't do it—"

"But it's okay—"

"It was okay this time. What about next? If you're so empathetic, think about how your actions will affect others."

Willy stares at you silently. There's no fear in your eyes; the sedative candy is still working, but you're thinking ahead. You assume what might happen and wait for the worst-case scenario.

"Why are you so afraid of this?" He asks in a whisper, "It could work, and you could all be free."

"Does thinking of yourself mean eating slops and washing someone else's dirty laundry all day long just because those monsters think they have the right to force you?"

Tears form in your eyes again, and Willy instantly regrets his words. You don't give him a chance to apologize.

You get up, leaving Willy on the floor. You walk to the door, and without turning around, you add.

"Again, do whatever you want, but don't drag me into this."

You burst into the laundry room and meet the gaze of all your colleagues. Everyone's face is grim and disappointed, but no one says anything.

"What the hell happened in my room?"

"In my room," Benz corrects you, looking at you reproachfully.

The others are silent too, looking at you in the same way.

"No one's going to explain to me?" Your anger is rising.

"Aren't you going to explain to us?" Noodle answers a question with a question and raises her hand, holding a small vial of blue liquid. "Why did you do it?"

"Did what?" You have absolutely no understanding of the situation you're in.

"Don't play dumb!" Noodle shouts out, a strong resentment in her voice, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "You poisoned all of Willy's chocolate!"

"What? I did what? What chocolate?"

"Yeti's sweat was among your stuff," Piper adds.

"That's serious evidence." Lottie chimes in.

"Exactly," Abacus concludes.

"What are you all talking about?" Your bewilderment peaks. "I have no idea what's going on—"

"You don't know what's going on?" Benz steps forward, "Oh, you do. Congratulations! Your and Mrs. Scrubbits' plan worked—Willy's store is trashed and his reputation is ruined."

"Was that you?" You turn around and see Willy speaking quietly.

"Do you think it's me, too?"

He is silent. Doesn't look at you and remains silent. But you understand very well, even without words.

"Y/N—" Abacus tries to stop you.

"Remember me until the moment you're ready for revenge, Mr. Wonka." Willy lifts his head involuntarily and looks you in the eye. "I have a feeling you'll come for me sooner or later."

With that, you walk past him and outside. The cold immediately envelops your body, but you don't care. Everything is going to hell, so why not let everything go to hell?

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @go-punk-pumpkin-spice (I'm glad you're interested!)

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

#willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka fanfic #wonka x you #willy wonka x you #timothee chalamet x reader #wonka timothee

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