Willy Wonka x Reader

A Place To Stay

I enter the place. It does seem quite cozy.

"Welcome to Scrubitt and Bleacher's, Guest House and Laundry! Make yourself at home, warm your cockles by the fire. Gin? (Y/n)! Noodle!" she shouts.

"Yes, Mrs. Scrubitt?" I hear two timid female voices ask.

"Put those books down and get our guest a glass of gin. Poor man's frozen half to death," Mrs. Scrubitt tells them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Scrubitt. You and your husband have been so kind to me," I thank the kind woman.

"Husband?! Him?!" Mrs. Scrubitt laughs as if I just told a joke. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"No," Bleacher replies, though he doesn't sound like he wouldn't want that.

Two girls enter the room. One of them is a little girl who looks to be twelve-years-old, and the other. . . has to be the most beautiful creature I've ever seen! She is a grown-up young woman who seems to be a few years younger than me. She has fair (s/c) skin and (h/l) (h/c) (straight/curly/wavy) hair. She holds a tray carrying two glasses of gin out to Mrs. Scrubitt, who takes a glass.

"Oh, I'm holding out for someone far superior to that idle peasant," Mrs. Scrubitt says.

The woman comes to me with the other glass of gin, and she holds the tray out to me, not making eye contact. I take the glass, not taking my eyes off her. After a couple seconds she looks at me, and I feel my heart pick up speed when I see her beautiful (e/c) eyes. I smile kindly at her, and I see a small smile form on the corner of her (thin/plump) lips as she looks away, seemingly embarrassed, and leaves the room. Mrs. Scrubitt raises her glass, and I do the same.

"Chin, chin," she says, and drinks her gin.

I drink my gin as well, but seeing as how I've never had gin before, I wasn't expecting it to taste so. . . strong. I cough when I feel the liquid run down my throat.

"That is extremely strong stuff!" I say.

     "Yeah, you can run cars on that. So, what is it I can do for you? A room, is it?" Mrs. Scrubitt asks me.

     "Well, yes, but, uh. . ." I start to say.

     "Mr. Wonka is. . . temporarily embarrassed," Bleacher explains for me.

     "Oh, no, you don't say," Mrs. Scrubitt says while looking at me with pity.

     "I'm afraid that's true, Mrs. Scrubitt, but all that's about to change," I respond with confidence.

     "Oh, yeah?" Mrs. Scrubitt asks me.

     I notice the girls standing in a doorway. The young woman is looking at me with curiosity. Thinking this could be my chance to impress her, I walk up to the counter.

     "See, I'm something of a magician, inventor, and chocolate maker. And first thing tomorrow at the Galeries Gourmet, I plan to unveil my most astonishing creation yet," I explain, and I take off my hat and set it on the desk. "Prepare to be amazed as I present you. . ."

     I reach into my hat to pull out. . .

     "A teapot?" Mrs. Scrubitt questions.

     "No, that's just for making tea," I tell her, and I reach into my hat again, only to pull out a bunch of carrots. "That's for my stew."

     I see the girls trying to stifle their laughter. I mentally slap myself for looking like an idiot in front of the (h/c)-haired woman. I reach into my hat again and end up pulling out a string of handkerchiefs.