Lucky

lucky

Scenario: You have won a unique opportunity to talk to your favorite guitarist in his dressing room.

Warnings: smut, female reader, daddy kink, degrading kink, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, oral sex (both), masturbation (reader), slaps, multiple rounds (two orals and one p in v), dacryphillia.

Word count: 2.9k

a/n: I was told today (literally right now) that I have a work presentation for tomorrow at school, I'm not going to proofread this. English is not my first language.

You just watched a Hollywood Vampires show and still feel the chills. It was only two hours long, but you loved every second of it, especially since you were close to the stage, getting a prime view of your favorite member, Johnny Depp. You recorded him, took pictures, shouted praises… You acted like the fangirl you are for him.

But you were more excited for what was about to come… When entering the stadium, some staff distributed papers with numbers to the crowd, it was a draw in which the prize would be a visit to a member's dressing room. Then, after the show, they revealed the winning numbers. And, being the lucky girl you are, you won a chat with the guitarist and vocalist Johnny Depp.

You follow the staff through the halls behind the stage, anxiously looking around, searching for Depp’s dressing room. You don’t know what you will talk about or even ask or do. Your heart races in anticipation as the staff slow their pace, indicating that his door is near. Your palms start sweating, and you hold your phone tightly, hands shaking. Should you ask him for a selfie first? Or a hug?

Before they open the door, they check if you’re carrying something that might be harmful. Once you show you’re clean, they step aside and let you enter. Inside, there’s him. Johnny Depp. He was drinking something clear in a small cup, sitting on an armchair with his legs crossed. You shyly step closer, shaking in excitement, finally meeting your idol. His eyes look up at you before raising his head, you shiver.

He grins and stands up, walking towards you. “Hello, sweetheart. What is your name?” He reaches to take your hand, lifting it to kiss your knuckles. You stutter your name, clearly self-conscious of your sweaty palms. He chuckles softly, amused. “You’re a pretty little thing. Come, have a seat.” He leads you to the armchair he was sitting in a few seconds ago. You settle down, hands on your lap, holding your phone.

“Did you like the show?” He crosses his arms, grinning. You nod and gasp softly for air. “C-Can we take a selfie together?” You point to your phone and hold your breath. He nods “Of course, sweetheart.” He places a hand on your waist as you stand up. You raise your phone and smile the best you can, taking a picture. It didn’t turn out well since your hand was shaking. “That’s okay, we can take another one later.” He reassures, stroking your back. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest. The man of your dreams, your idol, was so fucking close to you. His tattooed hand on you was impossible to ignore, and his strong perfume was so masculine and intoxicating.

“You came here alone?” He asks, tilting his head, and you nod. “And why that? Did your boyfriend refuse to accompany you tonight?” He asks indifferently, his words disguising his real intention — to find out if you were in a relationship. “Um? N-No, I actually don’t have a boyfriend.” You scratch the back of your neck, releasing an awkward chuckle. “Really? I find it hard to believe, you're too beautiful to be single.” He winks, teasing you as if you weren't already shy enough. “It is true! I don't have a boyfriend, actually never had one, I'm even still a virg-” You cut yourself off as you notice you're just rambling about anything that goes on your mind, your face heating up in embarrassment.

Johnny's eyebrows shut up in surprise but he chuckles softly in amusement, he finds you very interesting. You think he's laughing at you, which is compressible. You probably look like a weird fangirl who acts like a teenager.

“I'm sorry for that” You sigh and he shakes his head. “I don't mind, you're cute when stumbling over your own words.” He comments, still smirking charmingly. His thumb caresses your side since his hand is still on your waist. “Am I your favorite?” He teases again and you nod. “I'm your biggest fan, I'm so happy I won this chance to be here and talk with you.” You say proudly, smiling. “Oh, really?” He raises an eyebrow, his smirk still on his face. “So, you’re quite devoted to me, huh?” He towers over you, god have mercy. “Uh…Y-Yeah, I think I am” You chuckle nervously. “Oh yes, you are.” He holds your hips “I can see it, pretty thing, you can’t disguise it.” His smirk darkens.

Johnny’s hands move to your thighs and slide up slowly, tracing a path between your legs with his rough fingers. He watches your face the whole time, studying your reactions, until his dominant hand cups your heat. His fingers press hard against your clothed folds, his smirk widening as he feels the wetness. “This is for me, isn’t it?” He whispers, leaning closer. His fingers keep caressing your sensitiveness. “Bet if I order you something you would obey blindly, wouldn’t you?” He looks deep into your eyes.

Speechless, and clearly thinking with your pussy instead of your head, you nod. Hell yeah, you would do anything for this man in a heartbeat, without even questioning your morals. Johnny is pleased by your answer, he looks down at you, holding your chin. “Sit down, now.” He commands with a gentle push. You settle down, and your breathing is already getting altered. “Touch yourself like you would if I wasn’t here, like you would when you’re alone in your bedroom.” He says firmly, crossing his arms and staring down at you. You blink in surprise, unsure if you heard it right. But, under his hard stare, you wouldn’t want to do anything other than what you heard come out of his mouth.

You spread your legs and slowly slide your hand under your shorts, your fingers meeting the damp fabric of your panties. You drag your hips forward, trying to get comfortable as your fingertips stroke small circles on your clothed clit. Johnny licks his lips and points “Take them off, come on.” He demands “Let me see that pretty little pussy”. You obey him, of course, and hook your thumbs on your waistband, slowly pulling your shorts and panties down and letting them pool on your ankles. Johnny groans in approval and gestures to you to continue. You slide two fingers over your slit, slicking them, before slowly sinking them inside.

You feel quite nervous, but very agitated, with Johnny watching your every movement. Your breath becomes slightly deeper as you start thrusting your thin fingers inside, closing your eyes to try to amplify the sensations. Johnny chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “Oh my... You need me, don’t you?” He mocks you, asking with his voice high-pitched. You only nod at him, your lips forming a pout. “Then beg for it, you dirty slut.” He suddenly turns stern, asserting his dominance - as if you ever doubted it.

“P-Please” You choke it out, but that isn’t enough. He raises his eyebrows, silently ordering you to continue. “Please, Johnny-” He interrupts you with a hard glare and you immediately understand. “Please, Daddy, I need you!” You beg, now correcting yourself and repeating a few please’s after. He nods, kneeling between your legs. “That’s right, little bitch.” He grumbles, placing your legs over his shoulders. He throws his sunglasses somewhere and dives his head, giving your needy clit a teasing lick with the tip of his tongue, making you whine in frustration. He chuckles menacingly, his hot breath hitting your wet flesh, making you squirm.

He gives your pussy open-mouthed kisses, his tongue occasionally going out and licking your folds. He starts sucking and nipping your wet skin, bringing shaky moans out of your mouth. You try to grind on his face, craving for more, but he smacks your thigh with his palm, making you cry softly. “Know your place, whore.” He growls against your pussy. You release a shaky breath, still feeling the sting from his palm but fucking enjoying it, your pussy clenching around the air with anticipation. He slides his tongue inside your spasming cunt, licking the insides fervently and moaning in approval. His eyes move up, staring hard at you through his lashes.

You feel your orgasm getting closer given the combination of the elements is overwhelming: Your pussy is getting eaten by a man, and this man is no one less than Johnny Depp. And he seems to notice it as well since he slows his pace just to frustrate you. “Not yet, slut.” He warns “You don’t get to cum until I say so”. You whine a bit louder than the last time, gripping the armrests of your seat. “I need to cum, Daddy” You cry out, staring down at him, already feeling the harkening pooling on your lower stomach, ready to escape and make a mess.

“Beg for it, whore. Convince me to let you cum on my tongue.” He grips your thighs harder, his fingers digging into your skin, it will certainly leave a mark for the next few days. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping it and burying his face further between your legs. “Fuck- Please, Daddy! Please, please, let me cum, Daddy.” You plead and pray for him, your heart bursting. Johnny loves hearing you beg for him, seeing you all vulnerable under his efforts. He wraps his lips around your clit and gives a strong suck, the tip of his tongue flicking over your sensitive spot. “Cum for me, you filthy little slut.” He commands, leaning back and delivering a slap on your clit. With his flat hand, he strokes your bundle of nerves rapidly, prolonging the burn from the sting. You become a whimpering mess, your legs shaking violently. “Cum all over my mouth like the desperate whore you are.” He teases you, his pace never faltering. 

Johnny laps and dives his tongue in your entrance, stimulating you until you orgasm, dripping your juice on his face. He licks you clean, savoring the taste. “I could eat this pussy for hours.” He mutters and leans back, staring at your face. You open your mouth, ready to ask for more, but stop as his hand goes down to your clit, delivering another slap. You gasp sharply, shutting your eyes. But instead of complaining, you drag your hips forward, silently asking for more. “You like it, huh? Do you like being spanked on your little clit?” He taunts, punctuating each word with a slap, your legs twitching with the stimulation. “You’re so pathetic, just a lil’ slut for me, hm?” He chuckles darkly and stands up.

Johnny starts undoing his leather pants, skilled fingers dancing on his zipper. “You’re going to suck me now.” He isn’t asking. Once he pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, your eyes widened. His cock stands tall and proud, bouncing as Johnny steps out of his pants and underwear. “Woah..” You gasp, almost comically. “What?” He raises an eyebrow, spitting on his hand and stroking his cock a few times, stepping closer to you. “I’m not.. used to this si-” You gag as Johnny grips your hair and forces his cock down your throat. “Less talking, more sucking, whore.” He commands, pushing your head rhythmically.

“Be a good girl and make daddy proud.” Johnny murmurs, his eyes narrowing as you finally start to suck him. He is thick, you could feel the corners of your lips ripping as he stretches your mouth. He whispers a few curses under his breath, his grip tightening as he pushes your head deeper to take all of him, ignoring the sound of your struggles.

“Yes, keep those pretty eyes watering.” He smirks, his hand brushing your hair back to look better at you. Johnny rocks his hips faster, his thrusts meeting your bobbing head. His balls are slapping your chin. The curved tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, your eyes shutting due to the first sting of discomfort. He just taps your cheek with his hand “Eyes open, bitch.” He pushes your head down, your nose on his happy trail, choking you for a few seconds before pulling it out harshly. Holding the base, he hits your cheek with his length, also nudging it on your face, smearing precum.

“Bet you want this stuffing your tight cunt, huh?” He taunts again, “Today’s your lucky day, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” He pulls you up and turns you around, bending you over the armchair, as if you weighed nothing, as if you were just a doll. He smacks your buttocks, leaving red handprints on your smooth flesh. You moan to each slap, back arching. He slides a hand, teasing your entrance with his thumb, rubbing tight circles around the hole. “You said you are a virgin, right?” He whispers, softer than before. “I will ask you only one thing: Do you want me to be your first?”

You obviously nod to his question. Come on, he's Johnny Depp, do you really need to think about it? You wouldn't let this opportunity escape through your fingers. He grins mischievously, his left hand caressing your waist. “Of course you want to, you're my whore.” He bites his lip, his other hand wrapping around his base. “Now you'll have to handle me.” He nudges the tip of his member against your wet folds. He won't put a condom on, he doesn't really care, neither do you. 

He slowly slides himself inside, sighing a sound between a relief and a groan. You could feel every inch of him, every vein, and every slight detail. “Take it all like a good little cocksleeve.” He tells you once he's fully settled inside. He starts rocking his hips slowly, getting used to the blissful way your inner walls grips his cock. He leans forward, his chest on your back, going deep. “Tell me how much you love the way my big, fat cock stretches out your tight little hole.” He whispers in your ear, his big hands holding your hips tightly. You try to speak, moans leaving your mouth like breathing. He won't give you a break, you asked for it and now you have to handle it.

“I told you to speak up! Tell me how much you love it. Or would you rather I just shut you up with my hand?” He smacks your thigh, making you yelp. With a whimper and a few sharp gasps, you manage to choke out an answer. “I-I love it! I fucking love it, Daddy. It's so good~” You almost scream when he starts pounding harder into your inexperienced cunt, his balls slapping against your rear. “That’s right, bitch, scream for me.” He approves, grunting in your ear. “This pussy is mine, got it?” His hands move up to your waist, still holding you tightly, leaving his mark on your skin.

You only nod to his question, barely acknowledging it, dick-drunk. Even though he loves seeing you turning into a mess just because of his cock, he wants more of you, he wants you to recognize yourself as his. “Say ‘my holes belong to Johnny Depp.’ ” He commands, one of his hands moving up to your breast, squeezing it. Your brain almost melts trying to follow his instructions, even if it is the simplest one. Between moans, you obey him “My holes b-belongs to you, Johnny”. He growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t ever forget it, whore” He nips your sensitive skin, leaving hickeys as his autograph.

You feel the orgasm coming, your legs going numb, soon to give up. You try to warn Johnny with your babbles and whimpers, managing to squeak a breathless “Please” between them. He catches your message, changing the angle to hit a needy spot on your inner walls. “Please what, my dirty little cumslut?” He provokes “Use your words, tell Daddy what you need.” He slows but deepens his pace, you didn’t know your insides were that long to fit him this well. “Cum..” You cry out. “Let me cum, sir, please. Please!” A few tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks, starting to feel overwhelmed.

Johnny smirks proudly, feeling on the top of the world. “Oh, you want to cum on my cock? You want to make a mess?” He groans, his fast pace returning. He doesn’t tease you further this time, being nicer to his slut. “Yes, let go and cum all over Daddy’s cock like the desperate little fuck toy you are.” He leans back, thrusting his hips harder while pulling your hips against his. He doesn’t need to do anything else, your body melting beneath his, your pussy spasming around his cock as you soak him.

Right after, you feel him pulsing inside of you, a delicious sensation. He’s ready to give you something more valuable than any Hollywood Vampires’ merch, an inestimable gift, his seed. He floods your insides, painting your inner walls white. Before you can recover your breath, Johnny grabs your phone and holds your throat, posing for a selfie. He focuses especially on your sweaty, dick-drunk expression, really proud of his job.

He smirks slightly, also tired, and snaps the picture. “Daddy loves seeing you fall apart on his cock.” He praises, kissing your neck. “I hope to see your face often during tours. You’re my number one whore.”

a/n: I want to write a professor!johnny x student!reader, is that okay?

taglist: @drugs-and-daddyissues (thank you for the support!)

-- If you want to be tagged, just dm me!

just to update you guys: yes, I am writing.

Private lessons. (889/~1100)

Under the table. [or something like that] (10/~1000)

Feast. (1600/~2000)

typing with my feet 'cause my fingers are busy 💦

Sorry for no chapters of illicit affairs this week, but take this edit instead

my current situation.

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 Your best friend, Johnny, finds out about all the dirty little fantasies you've been having about him. Not only does he make you confess every single one, but he makes them a reality.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 pulling panties off with teeth, P in V sex, panty stealing (kinda), couch sex, romantic sex, slightly drunk sex? reader is a bit tipsy, friends to lovers, unprotected sex (WARNING: THIS IS DONE BY PROFESSIONALS DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME), creampie

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 Johnny Depp x f!reader

You were at your best friend's, Johnny's, house, just drinking, eating dinner, catching up on life. Somehow, the topic of conversation turned towards dating endeavors.

"Oh, I've sworn it off. Even hookups, though I wouldn't mind a dick appointment from you." You teased him, biting your lip, giving him a sultry look, before taking another sip of your wine. Jesus, what were you even doing? The rush of alcohol in your system making your brain fuzzy, incoherent to rational thought.

"What?" He choked on his wine, leveling himself.

But your stupid brain still wouldn't take the hint that maybe you shouldn't keep talking. "Mhm. It's shameful.. The things I think about when I'm alone.." You whispered, running your finger tips up your thigh. You wore a satin blue dress that went to your midthigh, a soft floral pattern along the chest.

He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the way you were talking without any filter. "Do tell me, dear, what do you think about me doing to you?" He asked, eyes hungry as he stood up. "Hm?"

"Mmm.. Well.. I imagine you laying me down.. Us making out for a bit until I'm practically squirming underneath you.. Then you'd lift up my dress, pull my panties off, and fuck me like I'm more than a friend to you." You admitted, standing up as well with a slight wobble.

He walked you back, pushing you to lay down on the couch. He was quickly on top of you, arm around your waist, the other tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head. "Is that so? Would you say you want me now, sunshine?" He asked, training open mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck.

"Yes." You croaked out, caught off guard by the feeling of his lips on your neck, feeling his warm breath on your skin.

"Your know there's no going back from this, yeah? If I fuck you, we're not just friends anymore. Friends don't do this type of shit. You're mine, and I don't share, got it?" He whispered, before crashing his lips onto yours. Soft, yet powerful, hungry.

You let out a soft sound of approval as you savored his lips, your arms wrapping around him, holding him like a lover.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, grinding against your thigh. "None of those bastards you brought around were ever worth your time." He sounded almost jealous.

"I never thought...I'd have a chance with you." You whispered back between kisses, him occasionally cutting you off with desperation and a need to claim you.

"God, I knew you were naive, sweet girl, but I didn't think you were mad. Everytime I see you, my heart stops. Everytime I see you in the sunshine, the light bouncing off your features, I think, 'This is heaven. God is a woman, and I've just seen her.'" He whispered, holding you closer, pouring his affection into your every pore.

You tried to grind back against him, but he just put a flat palm against your pubic bone, pinning you down.

"Don't tease tonight, J.. Let me feel you." You whispered, kissing him with your eyes open, peering into the dark brown windows of his soul.

"Okay.. Okay. Whatever you want, princess." He whispered, trailing kisses down, over your dress, feeling the smooth satin against his lips, before his face was hovering over your sex.

He pushed your dress up over your hips, before leaving kisses along your clothed pussy. But you begged him not to tease, so he used his teeth the grab the fabric of your underwear, pulling down the black lace. "God, she's gorgeous. Look at that.." He praised, referring to your cunt, rubbing a thumb over your clit, seeing how you'd respond to him.

He pocketed your panties before kicking off his jeans and boxers. You looked like you would go crazy if he wasn't inside you in the next 5 minutes, your whole body filled with need. "Shhhh, I know. Just let me-" He cut himself off, grabbing his wallet off the end table, pulling out a small foil package.

"Johnny. Not now, please. I need to feel you." You begged, your hands extended, wanting to pull him closer.

He stopped for a moment, not expecting you to make that request, but God, the thought of being skin to skin with you like that.. It drove him crazy. You were begging for the most intimate thing, no barriers between the two of you. "Yeah? You sure, baby?" He asked, putting the condom and his wallet back on the table.

He leaned over you, closer to your body. "Absolutely." You whispered, a softer intimacy present in your voice as you put a gentle hand on his jawline, fingertips touching his skin.

He took in a shaky breath, before straightening himself back up, spitting in his hand before he stroked his painfully hard cock. It was thick, with a pretty pink tip. He shifted over you again, rubbing against your folds, before pushing in, feeling the way your cunt stretched around him. "God, baby.." He rasped, feeling you raw.

"Deeper, Johnny, please!" You whined, hands finding and caressing his body.

"Yeah? You want deep?" He asked fully bottoming out inside you, making you gasp and moan. "I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Let me know how good my cock is making you feel." He whispered, rocking his lips inside you.

You let out a soft moan as he leaned down to kiss you. You tangled one hand in his hair, the other resting on his cheek. You were having sex, but it was so much more than that. It was a confession, a sharing of vulnerability, a moment of becoming one with each other.

He started off slowly, testing the waters, before he found a rhythm that had you crying out.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" You moaning, almost screaming out as you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you.

The sounds you made, the way you were wrapped around him, it was driving him wild. He picked up the pace, his lips finding your neck, leaving kisses and bites in their wake, his head swimming with the feeling of all of you. "You like that, baby? Is this what you wanted? This what you've been thinking about this whole damn time?" He asked, panting, slightly breathless as he mercilessly thrusted inside you.

You nodded, mouth open in a loud moan, with that cock drunk expression on your face. The pressure was quickly building up in your stomach, pleasure flooding your body, like a dam about to break through.

"Good girl." he murmured, his breath ragged. "Just let go, baby. I wanna hear you. I wanna make you feel good." He moved his lips to your ear, his teeth gently biting down on the lobe between words, "You look so amazing like this, all mine."

"Johnny, I'm so close!" You cried out, head leaned back against the couch.

He wrapped an arm around your body, holding you close, drinking up your sounds. "I wanna feel you let go. Cum for me, baby. I've got you." He whispered so sensually.

It only took a few more thrusts before you were crying out his name as you came undone around him, your heat clenching around him. "Johnny.. Johnny.. Fuck.." You mumbled, a breathless whimper.

The way you said his name, the way you felt around him, it sent him careening over the edge. He buried his face against the crook of your neck, your name a breathless chant of a mantra on his lips. "Oh, God, baby." He groaned. "You feel so good. You're so perfect. You're mine. You're my girl. Say it. Say you're my girl."

As you both came down from your highs, you pressed a kiss against his lips. "I'm yours. Your girl." You confirmed.

┆𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓┆

𝐀/𝐍 Hope that was okay, because I am NOT proofreading it ‼️

🥂 taglist: @ghsttk @littlerobbinphantomhive19 @kittenlittle24 @needz1nk @trekkitkat @chronicallybubbly @mgajdaaa @mininiamh @amy-fontaine @bennwazzhere Thank you for your support 🧡

escorreu uma lágrima e não foi dos olhos.

Johnny Depp, Cannes

ai, para.. acho que a sopa de repolho tem seu charme, né? 😋

A ticket to your heart ★ Capítulo 1 ★

Um suspiro escapa de seus lábios quando finalmente avista a "boa" e velha casa caindo aos pedaços e, provavelmente, com algumas partes mofadas, mas ei, continua sendo uma casa, não?

Seus moradores são a família Bucket, que não eram uma família abastada, na verdade, eles mal tinham o que comer. O fato é que você e seu irmão eram as pessoas mais sortudas do mundo, apenas não sabiam disso.

— Boa noite, Buckets. — Você e Charlie falam em uníssono ao entrarem em casa.

— Boa noite. — Todos respondem como de costume, e, por 'todos', quero dizer, Vovó Georgiana, Vovó Josephine, Vovô Joe , Vovô George e a senhora Bucket, que estava fazendo uma sopa de repolho. Seu pai parecia não ter chegado ainda.

— Posso saber como foi o dia de vocês? — A senhora Bucket sorri e olha para vocês rapidamente antes de voltar sua antenção para a sopa.

— O mesmo de sempre. — Você diz se sentando à mesa. Não era uma total mentira, tirando aquele homen estranho, tudo havia ocorrido como todos os outros dias.

— Pois é. A única coisa diferente hoje foi a aula do professor Eujénio de álgebra. — Puxando uma cadeira na pequena mesa, Charlie senta ao seu lado e começa a tirar alguns livros de sua mochila — Foi mais chata que o normal. — Ele disse com um sorrisinho em seu rosto.

— Charlie, não diga isso! Tenho certeza que esse senhor Eujénio dá uma ótima aula. — A Sra Bucket repreende o olhando de relance enquanto o risinho de certas 4 pessoas pode ser ouvido.

— É Charlie, não diga isso. — Você cópia o tom de sua mãe, oferecendo um "toca aqui" e uma piscadela pra ele. Você se vira para a cozinha. — A senhora precisa de ajuda, mãe?

— Oh, não. Não se preocupe com isso querida. — Ela sorri para você como um gesto de gratidão. Nesse mesmo momento a velha porta se abre com um rangido, a figura de seu pai é iluminada pela luz da lareira.

— Boa noite, Buckets.

— Oi, pai! — você e Charlie o cumprimentam.

— Olá, querido. Trouxe alguma coisa para colocar na sopa? — O senhor Bucket olha para a panela cheia de água e repolho e suspira tristemente.

— Err, não. Infelizmente não.

— Ah... Tudo bem. Repolho sempre cai bem com repolho! — O senhor Bucket dá um sorriso, envergonhado por não conseguir dar um conforto suficiente para a sua família.

— Ah! Charlie, eu tenho uma coisa pra você. — Ele coloca a mão em seu bolso e retira duas tampas de tubo de pasta de dente grudadas. Um erro da fábrica de onde seu pai trabalha.

Charlie solta um audível suspiro de surpresa e alegria ao receber a notícia. Saltando para fora da cadeira, ele corre até seu pai para pegar a tampa.

Agradecendo brevemente, o garoto anda para um canto da sala e tira uma maquete feita com tampas de pasta de dente da famosa fábrica junta de um bonequinho no centro.

— O que é isso, Charlie? — Vovô Joe pergunta. Você se senta ao lado dele, fascinada pela criação de seu irmão.

— É uma maquete da fábrica! A única coisa que estava faltando era o chapéu do Willy Wonka. — Ele posiciona as duas tampas na cabeça do boneco de forma que elas se pareçam com uma cartola.

— Charlie, isso é incrível! — Você sorri, seu peito se enche de orgulho por seu irmão mais novo. O resto de seus familiares concordam totalmente com você. Um rubor aparece no rosto de seu por estar sendo o centro das atenções. Ele agradece suavemente com um sorriso envergonhado.

— Ficou igualzinho. — Disse vovô Joe.

— O senhor acha? — Charlie pergunta se virando para ele.

—Se eu acho? Eu sei que ficou!

— Vovô Joe viu o Willy Wonka com os próprios olhos, Charlie. — Você sorri ao lembrar Charlie sobre as histórias que seu avô tinha para contar.

— Isso é verdade. — Ele acena com a cabeça. — Eu já trabalhei para ele, sabiam?

— Foi? — Pergunta Charlie.

— Foi. — Afirma vovô Joe.

— Foi sim. — Concordou vovó Josephine.

— Foi.— Disse vovô George.

— Eu adoro uvas! — Exclama vovó Georgiana com um sorriso banguela. Você e seus pais concordam com a cabeça.

— É claro que naquela época eu era muito mais jovem. — Vovô Joe falou com um olhar distante.

— O Willy Wonka começou com uma única loja na rua Sherly, mas o mundo todo gostou do doces dele. — Ele olha para vocês novamente. — O homen era um gênio!

— Você sabia que ele inventou um jeito novo de fazer sorvete de chocolate que fica gelado por horas fora do congelador? Você pode até deixar no Sol num dia quente e ele não derrete!

Você não tem outra escolha a não ser sorrir. Seu avô, que nos últimos tempos tem todo uma aura tão melancólica, estava sorrindo como uma criança. Ele falava tão bem do chocolateiro que você não pode negar o desejo, mesmo que impossível, de conhecê-lo.

— Isso é impossível. — Contradiz Charlie. Por um momento você quase achou que seu irmão tivesse lido sua mente.

— Só que o Willy Wonka inventou. — Rebate vovô Joe.

— Pouco depois, ele decidiu abrir uma fábrica de chocolate. A maior da história! Cinquenta vezes maior que qualquer outra!

Vovó Josephine sorri ao ver seu marido tão feliz e seus netos tão interessados em suas histórias. Não querendo que esse momento acabe tão cedo, ela intervem. — Conte a eles sobre o príncipe indiano. Eles vão gostar de ouvir.

Sua mãe traz o jantar para seus avós na cama enquanto você olha com curiosidade para seu avô. Príncipe indiano? Você não havia ouvido essa ainda.

Seu avô, muito satisfeito com a pergunta de sua esposa, começa a contar a história. Parece que um príncipe enviou uma carta para o Sr. Wonka, pedindo que ele construísse um palácio colossal de chocolate. Ele avisou para o príncipe que não duraria por muito tempo e que ele deveria começar a come-lo, mas o príncipe não deu ouvidos. Enfim, um fatídico dia escaldante chegou e todo o castelo foi reduzido a uma enorme poça de chocolate. O príncipe enviou um telegrama pedindo um novo palácio, mas Wonka não respondeu.

Você segura uma risada. — Também não responderia se fosse ele. Seria uma grande perda de tempo, já que o palácio provavelmente derreteria de novo.

Vovô Joe dá um pequeno sorriso e acena a cabeça. — Mas Willy Wonka tinha seus próprios problemas. Todos os outros fabricantes de chocolate tinham inveja do Sr. Wonka. Começaram a mandar espiões para roubar a receita secreta.

— A roubalheira era tanta que um dia, sem avisar, o sr. Wonka mandou todos os seus funcionários embora e anúnciou que iria fechar a fábrica de chocolate para sempre.

— Mas não fechou pra sempre. Tá aberta agora. — Charlie fala após engolir uma colherada de sopa.

— Ah, é que as vezes quando os adultos dizem "para sempre" querem dizer "por muito tempo". — Sua mãe explica.

— Exemplo: parece que eu vou tomar sopa de repolho para sempre! — Interfere vovô George.

— Papai... — O Sr. Bucket o repreende.

— A fábrica chegou a fechar, Charlie. — Explica vovó Josephine.

— E parecia que ela iria ficar fechada para sempre. Então, um belo dia vimos fumaça saindo das chaminés. A fábrica voltou a funcionar! — Vovô Joe fala num tom alegre.

— E você voltou pra lá? — Perguntou Charlie. De repente ficou difícil de engolir a sopa. O ambiente ficou tenso, ninguém ousava falar alguma coisa. Todos sabiam a resposta para essa pergunta. Todos menos Charlie.

— Nem eu, nem ninguém. — Vovô Joe sussurrou voltando seu olhar para a tigela de sopa.

— ... Mas deve ter gente trabalhando lá. — Charlie quebra o gelo.

— Acho que já teríamos visto alguém saindo ou entrando na fábrica, caso estivessem. — Você fala num tom gentil, não querendo alimentar ainda mais a melancolia dali e nem ser grossa com seu irmão.

— Mas então quem opera as máquinas? — Indagou Charlie.

— Ninguém sabe, Charlie. É um mistério. — Você responde.

— Alguém já perguntou o senhor Wonka? — Charlie pergunta.

— Nunca mais foi visto por mais ninguém. Ele sumiu. — Responde vovô Joe — A única coisa que sai daquele lugar são as barras de chocolate. Embaladas e empacotadas. — ele suspirou. — Eu daria tudo na vida para que vocês pudessem entrar e ver aquela fábrica. Para vocês presenciarem a mesma magia que eu presenciei. Talvez eu conseguisse um emprego para você lá, minha querida. Daí você não precisaria trabalhar tanto naquela loja. Tenho certeza que seria muito divertido. O Sr Wonka podia até ser um homen muito introspectivo, mas tenho certeza que ele gostaria de você. — Vovô Joe vira para você com um grande sorriso no rosto.

Com o coração transbordando de amor, você se levanta e dá um beijo na testa de seu avô. — Obrigada vovô. Isso seria muito gentil da sua parte.

Vovô Joe ri baixinho. — Ora, eu apenas quero o melhor pros meus netos. É pedir demais? — todos da família sorriem ao ouvirem isso. A casa volta a sua aura feliz.

Sua mãe se levanta. — Bem crianças, acho que já está na hora de deixar seus avós descansarem. — Você e Charlie acenam com a cabeça, pegando seus pratos e levando-os á pia. Dão boa noite para o resto da família e sobem para o sotão, carinhosamente apelidado de seu quarto.

Nele há apenas uma cama velha, grande o suficiente para caber você e Charlie, e uma cômoda caindo aos pedaços que guarda suas poucas roupas e pertences.

Você e Charlie se deitam na cama, ouvindo alguns estalos no processo. Charlie chama o seu nome.

— Hum... — Você murmura, sinalizando que está escutando.

— Você acha que um dia a gente vai poder ir para a fábrica?

Você respira profundamente, pensando na melhor maneira de responder sua pergunta.

— Eu não sei, Charlie. Mas é bem improvável.

Você não queria baixar o astral de seu irmão, mas também não queria levantar falsas esperanças.

— Mas improvável não é impossível, não é? — Charlie sorri.

Você não responde, apenas desarrumando o cabelo dele com sua mão, o que causou uma risada de vocês dois. Depois disso ambos vão dormir.

Não é como se Charlie estivesse errado afinal das contas. O futuro é cheio de surpresas e você não sabia o que ele tinha guardado para você.

Do mesmo jeito que você estava completamente ignorante à presença de certas pessoinhas dirigindo lambretas vermelhas contendo notícias que chocariam o mundo e virar sua vida de cabeça pra baixo.

★

Olá pessoas! Me desculpem mesmo pelo tempo q levou pra postar o primeiro capítulo dessa fanfic.

Mas não se preocupem! Eu não a abandonei e nem pretendo fazer isso!!

O intuito desse capítulo é mais pra aprofundar a sua relação com os Buckets, então sem Willy por enquanto. Mas só por enquanto! Já que ele já vai tomar uma vitamina D nos próximos capítulos.

Infelizmente não posso garantir que o próximo capítulo vai sair rápido, então, para compensar isso, pensei em começar a fazer oneshots curtos sobre os personagens do Johnny Depp e outros personagens.

Muito obrigado @ghsttk por ter me dado o pontapé final pra eu postar isso ♥