(Willy's POV)
Bleacher blows the whistle, signaling that it's time to start work—or, in my case, to start my plan. Abacus, Piper, Lottie, Larry, and I walk by as he does the roll call.
"BLEACHER! TOILET'S BLOCKED AGAIN!" Mrs. Scrubitt yells, as if on cue.
"Ah, unmistakable sound of love," I say, before starting to head inside the Wash House.
"You what?" Bleacher asks, and I stop, looking at him with feigned surprise.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," I say.
"What?" he asks.
"She's madly in love with you," I reply.
"Mrs. Scrubitt?!" Bleacher exclaims, looking at me like I'm crazy for thinking that.
"Besotted," I reply. "And why not? Look at you: a fine figure of a man. You just need to tidy yourself up a little bit, get some new clothes, have a bath."
"A bath?" Bleacher questions, as if he never had a bath in his life.
"You do know what they say, right?" I ask.
He leans a little closer.
"What do they say?" he whispers.
"She'll be thankful for an ankle. . ." I reply.
"Yes?" he questions.
". . . and pleased to see your knees. . ." I continue.
"Right," he whispers.
". . . but if you want to make her sigh. . ." I say.
"Tell me," he whispers.
". . . show her some thigh," I finish.
He smiles at that.
"BLEACHER! IT'S OVERFLOWING NOW!" Mrs. Scrubitt yells, and Bleacher pushes me to the Wash House.
"Get in there!" he orders me, and I head inside.
The plan is working, so far. Hopefully, (Y/n) and Noodle will be able to fool Mrs. Scrubitt.
(Noodle's POV)
(Y/n) and I are sitting on the floor in the lobby, pretending to clean the floor but actually waiting for Mrs. Scrubitt to enter the lobby. Our part of the plan is to make Mrs. Scrubitt think he's an aristocrat. We can only hope it'll work.
"BLEACHER?! Curse that idle peasant!" we hear Mrs. Scrubitt grumble.
And that's our cue. (Y/n) takes the drawing out of her (apron/pants/skirt/dress) pocket, and we pretend to look at it with curiosity. We made a drawing of Mr. Bleacher as an aristocrat. I have to say, we did a pretty good job.
"What have you got there?" Mrs. Scrubitt shouts, startling us, and (Y/n) hides the drawing behind her back, suddenly looking scared.
I can't tell if (Y/n) is nervous that the plan won't work, if she's genuinely afraid of Mrs. Scrubitt being here, or if she's just acting. I wouldn't be surprised if it's the second option. She has experienced more abuse here than I have, mostly because she takes most of the abuse for me. It makes me feel terrible for her, dealing with the trauma, even if she does it to protect me.
"Nothing," I lie, earning a look from Mrs. Scrubitt.
"Do you like that coop, Noodle?" she asks.
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Willy Wonka x Reader
قصص الهواةWilly Wonka is a man with a hatful of dreams. He is something of a magician, a genius inventor, and an amazing chocolatier. He has sailed the world finding ingredients for his special candy. But when he arrives in Europe, he finds himself in trouble...
