Here's a new oneshot I cooked up. I was listening to "The Thunder Rolls" by Garth Brooks, and I thought of this. (Music is a great muse, and it really helps a writer, too.) This is based on the 2005 film starring Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka.
Pairing: Willy Wonka/Veruca Salt
Summary: Veruca is haunted by dreams...scary dreams about Willy Wonka. Based on the 2005 film. DeppWonka. R&R, please!
Disclaimer: Genius Roald Dahl owns Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I own the oneshots and stories. The song lyrics belong to their respective owners.
The Thunder Rolls
It was nighttime in England. In the darkening sky, the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, signaling the start of a storm coming in...
Three thirty in the morning
Not a soul in sight
The city's lookin' like a ghost town
On a moonless summer night
Raindrops on the windshield
There's a storm moving in
He's headin' back from somewhere
That he never should have been
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls
Twelve-year-old Veruca Salt, the wealthy daughter of Rupert Salt, a CEO in the nut business, wearing a purple nightgown covered with kittens, lay asleep in her bed, which was covered with white sheets and a pink comforter.
But her sleep was fitful, filled with images of haunting blue eyes that she was unable to look away from...
~Dream Sequence~
Her gaze fearful, Veruca stepped over to the mirror. She kept telling herself that it was just a mirror, and therefore nothing to be scared or ashamed of. Then shadows that were forming on the wall began moving in a snakelike fashion. Veruca looked at the walls as the terror grew from within her.
Then the candles lit themselves as a laugh pierced the silence of the room. It was evil and very dark.
"Oh!" she yelped, jumping back a bit. "Who's there?"
There was almost no answer.
She looked back at the mirror and stepped away from it as a very hauntingly familiar voice called,
"Come to me, little girl. Come..."
The lightning lit up the sky and the thunder crashed against it, waking Veruca from her dream. She shivered all over as she remembered the voice.
Every light is burnin'
In a house across town
She's pacin' by the telephone
In her faded flannel gown
Askin' for a miracle
Hopin' she's not right
Prayin' it's the weather
That's kept him out all night
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls
The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls
There was only one person she knew whose voice sounded like that...a person with sky blue orbs and who wore a top hat, a large black coat that went down to his knees over a red one, a golden chain and black boots with rather high heels.
There was no question about it.
The person haunting her dreams was none other then...
Willy Wonka, the famous chocolatier.
Ever since she had met him at his famous factory, she had liked him... a bit. She even thought him to be a genius, kind of. When her greedy side took over, demanding a squirrel and was denied, she had gone down there to get one all on her own. It was that, after she had gotten tossed down the garbage chute as punishment (by the squirrels themselves, no doubt), she had begun to do some serious thinking...and wondering, now that she thought about it.
Soon, she realized that her being greedy was, legally, and rightfully, her own fault.
But still, she wondered...
Why does he haunt my dreams in this fashion like this?
She thought that over. But she didn't get an answer. Soon she fell asleep again.
~Dream Sequence~
Veruca suddenly found herself pinned to the ground – but not by squirrels this time. Nope. Instead she was pinned to the ground by...him... Willy Wonka...
She looked into those beautiful, hauntingly toxic blue eyes she knew all too well.
That was when it happened – the storm of dominance, to be exact.
As the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, he bent and captured her lips with his own in a kiss that was like a fire. And the fire instantly scorched her; all the thoughts telling her to turn and run, instead left her brain themselves. For a moment, Veruca's sky blue orbs were covered by their lids as she was lost in the passion of the liplock. Even her moans were lost in the heat of the fiery moment. She felt as though she had lost every ounce of self-control she had learned in her twelve years.
But her captor's mouth then left her own, and she groaned in protest – although getting some air didn't seem so bad.
Then his familiar voice said,
"For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everyone knows that."
Veruca's eyes snapped open as she pulled herself out of her lust-induced trance.
A scream burst forth from her as her captor lifted her up and carried her off to – his bedroom...
~End dream sequence~
Then Veruca woke up for the second time that night – this time blaming the thunder for not letting her get any beauty sleep in doing so.
Whipped with whips? she thought, scared, remembering the words from her nightmare.
She shuddered all over as she remembered the details...
Lashes marred the skin on her back as she lay on her stomach, while tears ran down her cheeks. Willy ran his purple latex-gloved hands over her back, purring at his handiwork, his pink whips lying beside him.
"Passionate," he growled. "You look... simply divine, my luscious little beauty."
Veruca moaned. Her body, not used to such a strenuous workout, ached all over. His rubbing her back only added to the pain instead of taking it away.
A sigh left Veruca's lips.
She knew she wouldn't get any sleep tonight...
...not as long as he called to her...