Willy Wonka x Reader

Making Friends

     "What are you doing?" (Y/n) asks me.

     I look at her with a smile.

     "I'm making chocolate, of course. How do you two like it? Dark? White? Nutty? Absolutely insane?" I ask.

     "We don't know. We've never had any," she replies.

     (Author's Note: Who else felt their mind blow when Noodle said she never had chocolate?)

     Are my ears playing tricks on me? Did (Y/n) seriously just say. . . ?

     "You never. . . Never had any chocolate?" I stammer, incredulous.

     "No," she replies.

     "WHAT?! YOU NEVER HAD CHOCOLATE?!!!" I yell, and (Y/n) jumps a bit, startled.

     "Still no," Noodle simply replies while (Y/n) nervously shakes her head.

     I definitely have to fix this problem. Never, in all my life, have I heard someone say they've never had chocolate. If (Y/n) thought my performance at the Galeries Gourmet was amazing, she'll definitely love my chocolate.

     "I'm gonna fix that right. Well, lucky for you, (Y/n), Noodle, I have a selection of the world's finest ingredients right here in my travel factory," I tell them as I open my sample case.

Inside is an almost impossible array of flasks and beakers, a miniature glass stove, and jars of ingredients. (Y/n) and Noodle walk toward my desk, amazed.

"Woah!" they say.

"Where to begin, that's the question. I know! Silver Linings! Made of condensed thunderclouds and liquid sunlight," I say, and I grab the two jars containing the very ingredients. "Helps you see that faint ray of hope beyond the shadow of despair. Just what we need, wouldn't you say?"

(Y/n) sits next to me, watching me prepare the chocolate with curiosity.

"Did you always want to make chocolate?" Noodle asks, coming up next to (Y/n).

"Oh, no. Back when I was your age, I wanted to be a magician. My mom was the cook. We lived on the river, just the two of us, in a perfect little world of our own. . ." I start to tell my story.

(Third Person POV)

*flashback*

A barge chugs around a bend in the river. A twelve-year-old Willy walks along the roof toward the stern where his mother stands.

"The way I remember it, I used to spend every waking hour trying to come up with some new trick to impress my mom."

Young Willy magics an apple.

"Bravo!" his mother cheers.

"But the real magic came from her."

That night, Willy lies in his bed while his mother makes chocolate.

"We didn't have a lot of money, but each week she brought home one cocoa bean, and by the time my birthday came around, there was enough to make a single bar of chocolate. But it wasn't just any old chocolate. Far from it."

Willy's mother gives him the spoon to lick the chocolate off.

"This has to be the best chocolate in the world!" Willy says.