#Ebenezer Scrooge x reader

[moonlesslights]

Like you saw him.

Summary: Being the owner of a little bakery brings you closer to Mr. Scrooge. Seeing him every day is an habit by now, so it is obviously concerning when it is almost closing time and he hasn’t shown yet.

A/N: This man is big, and his big shoulders can crush me any day. Still, I let you here with some fluff and just a little bit of sexual innuendos. Enjoy and lots of love!

…

You saw him everyday.

Most of the time, by morning; when he walked through the bakery doors to ask for the new recipe you manage to create every week. Some other occasions, when work was tough, he would came by when the sun was already setting, asking (rather demanding) for the weekly and most expensive bread you had.

Today is one of those days.

There are only five minutes left of working hours before you close the shop like every other night. You know your parents will grow worried if you are late to home again, and by that you know that there had been only two occasions where you didn’t arrive home at time. Last christmas night, when a complete family showed up out of nowhere to buy tons of bread but keeping you for almost another half an hour; and the time when you sprained your ankle on your way back and weren’t able to walk much more from there.

Neither of both scenarios assure you your father wouldn’t leave home immediately to look for you if you spend a minute more sitting here. But you just can’t go with your last and traditional delivery still missing.

Your eyes dart at the clock in the back of the store, sighing. Just two minutes to nine. Just two minutes and you would be forced to leave.

Trying to distract yourself for the intimidating clock hands moving on an unstoppable pace, you continue your writing on your little notebook, adding quick annotations, encircling keywords and underlining some others to remember your future self to read that right and not miss any step (again). Your next work is almost done, at least in what theory respects.

Nine o’clock.

It was over.

You purse your lips, felling uneasy as you reach for your coat and scarf, slowly scanning the freezing and lonely streets that awaited for you. You frown. What if something happened?, what if he didn’t like this weekly bread as much as the past ones?, oh my, was it your fault?

No. Wait. And why should you care?, it is his goddamn business if he doesn’t think your cooking is good enough. He can look for another bakery if he wishes so, let’s see if they save a damn peace alone just for…

Ding.

Your neck almost cracks when the doorbell rings and you turn to see the entering figure with a bad, if at all, dissimulated surprise covering your features.

And there he was. Covered in snowflakes and leaving a snowy mess all over the shop floor. His dark coat seemed to be little for the sharp cold city tonight, but you couldn’t catch a single hint of shivers running through him, not even when his gloveless hands wiped off some more white dust of his clothes. Rather than that, he appears to have been in a hurry with his reddened cheeks and unfazed breathing.

And you knew you shouldn’t have, but you smiled, sincere, almost relieved to see him there.

He had always had that effect on you. You never knew why, why did the most hated man of this city caused you to do nothing but relax in his presence, why did everyone despised him, why didn’t you. Safety is the usual word that come across your mind. You feel safe with him. He may be grumpy, serious and alarmingly rude, but you don’t think he could ever hurt you (as long as you're not indebted to him).

“Good evening, Mr. Scrooge.” Your greeting goes unanswered as he moves towards you, still trying to catch his breath. “Do you feel unwell?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” He does answer to that.

You nod, watching how his eyes travel along all the remaining bread of the afternoon and, as always, waiting for his usual request.

However, one thing goes unplanned.

“I believe I arrived a little too late. Goodnight.”

As unpredictable his appearance was, his return to the exit doors was even more. His back was facing you before you could even register what had happened and his steps were hurried towards the cold streets again.

You frown, turning your gaze to him and to what he was watching a second ago with your mouth wide open. Two times until it hits you: the little wooden shelf where you kept the weekly creation was totally empty.

“Wait!” His hand on the handle, his body stiffens at your sudden call. He only gives you a sided look, refusing to let you see more of him. “You are here for the new bread, aren’t you?”

Another unanswered question.

You huff, shaking your head.

“Y’know, everything would be resolved if you just told me what you want…” You state while looking down and taking a paper box with one of your hands. Sighing, you place it on top of the counter. “Voilà.”

Slowly, he returns his face to you. Suspicious, he wrinkles his nose, asking you with a single lifted eyebrow what was that.

“Bread. The bread. The last one. Only for you.” You say almost in defeat. “Now, could you please take it?, it is already really late.”

You look up at him and he receives you with an unusual expression on his face. So much that it takes you by surprise.

His eyes are wide open and his mouth remains unclosed. Now both of his brows are slightly lifted as you can hear him almost gulp. You have never seen his pupils light up like this, almost like a tiny star trapped in there. His lips parted, you can see as one on the corners of his mouth fight to remain pointing down.

Screw you, Mr. Scrooge, you find yourself thinking as you watch closely his salt and pepper hair covered still in small snowflakes, his crooked nose and big shoulders underneath his clothes, making me lose my time, getting on my nerves��� I don’t know why I still-

“I want you to come to have dinner in my house.”

Now, what?

“What was that?” You ask, suddenly snapping out of your trance.

He looks at you for a solid second before stating again:

“I want you to come to have dinner in my house.” This time he repeats every word with a considerable separation between each of them.

You tilt your head, remaining quiet for quite an unreasonable amount of time just trying to figure out the words coming to your ears. He has left you astonished and you can hear a little you mocking your saying of always having something smart to say.

Well, look at you now…

“Eh, mhm… Why?” You find out that was the only thing able to be formed by your mouth.

Little did you know, your companion was, if not more, falling into nervousness at the same time as you did.

What the hell had gotten to his mouth?

What was he even thinking?

“Because I want to.”

Your mouth falls open. Blinking slowly in his direction, you find yourself fighting to process the very conversation you were having right now. 

“Because you want to?” 

Ebenezer clears his throat, putting on his most confident face. 

“You told me to tell what I want.” He pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I want that. I want you to join me to dinner.”

You blink again, and suddenly, his words snap in your head. Yes, you did tell him that, but you could have never believed he would have take it this literal. In less than a second, a smile takes over your lips, bringing a bursting laugh to your throat. 

“Are you serious?!” You ask, even more excited that you would’ve had like. 

Ebenezer nods, big open eyes with confussion looking at your reaction. You laugh again, giving him a big toothy smile and... He could have died right there. 

You just gave him that smile. The smile you gave when you were really happy, the smile he only had seen a few times, never to him, never in his direction. And maybe someone else would have scolded you for your lack of decency in that thunderous laugh, but him... He was fascinated. If you just stopped in the middle of it you would’ve had caught his bright pupils and the smile threatening to cling onto his own lips. 

“I would love to, Mr. Scrooge.” You finally take him out of his trance, welcoming him with another warm smile. 

“Ebenezer.” He rushes to say. 

Your eyes soften even more, nodding. 

“I would love to have dinner with you, Ebenezer.” You conceed. “When?”

“Christmas.” He bursts out, taking you aback. Well, that would be a hell of a long talk with your parents to be absent on that day, but still...

“Sure. That sounds amazing.” 

He smiled. 

A year has passed and looking back on that day, you can’t believe how much things have changed. 

Now, after a beatiful wedding only two months ago and another dog, you finally moved in to his house. Both have made a lot of remodelations and bought a lot more of decorations. In his words: The house came to life when you first set a foot on it. In yours: He was just a little careless. 

Now he is the first one to taste your weekly creation after, as always, trying to “help you” cooking. He and the two dogs usually are just there to make a mess and, every time, you end up with several hand marks in flour covering your hips, waist, belly and sometimes other places. 

Now he takes as an excuse how messy you both are after cooking to take you to the bath with him. He always insists to undress you, taking his time to caress your body, softly, before insisting again in washing your hair when you get into the bathtub. Then, sometimes, he gets cooky as he unbuttons his shirt, smiling when he catches your gaze on his exposed skin; some other times he just uses this excuse to bury himself in you, slowly, spilling water all over the floor everytime he pushes. 

Now he waits for you to fall asleep every night before he does. Taking you in his arms, your breath lulling him to sleep. Easing his hearth. And every day, his eyes, full of love, wish you good morning as he playfully pecks your lips. He makes breakfast, meals are usually out, when he takes a break from work and takes you to different restaurants all around the city; dinner is on you. He sets the table and you spoil him with a homemade food made with the groceries he always insist on shopping with you. 

Now, he might still be the most hated man in the city. But your love for him remains as untouched as the one that started growing in you since the very first day you saw him. 

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Scrooge learns to make candy for Christmas with his lover who runs a sweet shop?

A/n: excellent

It's been a year since that incident, , Ebenezer Scrooge found himself in unfamiliar territory not in the streets of London or among the people he’d once ignored, but within his own heart. For the first time in years, he felt compelled to create something special, something personal, for someone who had touched his life in a profound way: you.

He knew of your fondness for sweets, particularly handmade confections, which the children at your school often brought to you as gifts. Inspired, Scrooge decided he would learn to make candy for you. It was an endeavor both foreign and daunting, but the thought of your smile fueled his determination.

Scrooge strode purposefully down a cobblestone street until he reached a charming little confectionery shop. The sign above the door read Sweet Delights, and the scent of sugar and caramel wafted through the air.

Inside, he was greeted by the shopkeeper, a jovial man named Mr. Ambrose. His round face lit up with curiosity at the sight of Scrooge.

“Mr. Scrooge,” Mr. Ambrose said, adjusting his apron. “This is a surprise! What brings you here?” Glasses perched particularly on the bridge of his nose.

Scrooge cleared his throat, feeling a bit self-conscious. “I need to learn how to make candy. Proper candy. Something… special.”

Mr. Ambrose raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “For someone special, I take it?”

Scrooge’s cheeks flushed faintly. “That’s none of your concern. Can you teach me or not?”

“Of course, of course,” Ambrose said, laughing. “Come along. Let’s see what we can whip up.”

Mr. Ambrose led Scrooge into the back of the shop, where copper pots and jars of colorful ingredients lined the shelves. The confectioner wasted no time, pulling out sugar, butter, cream, and a variety of flavorings.

“We’ll start with something simple—caramels,” Ambrose said, handing Scrooge a wooden spoon. “They’re sweet, soft, and impossible not to love.”

Scrooge nodded, rolling up his sleeves. As Ambrose walked him through the process. It should be easy enough, just how hard could it be?

Scrooge focused intently, carefully measuring ingredients and stirring the bubbling mixture in the pot.

“Watch the temperature closely,” Ambrose warned. “Candy-making is all about precision.”

Scrooge muttered to himself, eyes fixed on the candy thermometer. “This is more complicated than balancing ledgers.”

Ambrose chuckled. “But far more rewarding.”

When the caramel mixture was ready, Scrooge poured it into a tray to cool. Ambrose showed him how to cut the candy into small squares and wrap them in wax paper.

“Try one,” Ambrose said, holding out a piece.

Scrooge hesitated, then popped the candy into his mouth. It was sweet, buttery, and melted perfectly on his tongue. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Well?” Ambrose asked.

“It’s… delightful,” Scrooge admitted.

Feeling more confident, Scrooge decided to add his own touch to the next batch. He chose a dash of sea salt to enhance the sweetness, remembering how you once mentioned your love for sweet-and-savory flavors. He also had Ambrose show him how to drizzle the caramels with chocolate.

“This is for someone who deserves the very best,” Scrooge said, carefully wrapping the finished candies. “I won’t settle for less.”

Ambrose nodded approvingly. “You’re quite the confectioner now, Mr. Scrooge. I’d say she’s a lucky lady.”

Scrooge allowed himself a small, proud smile. “I only hope she enjoys them.”

The next day, Scrooge stood nervously outside the school you worked at, clutching a small tin wrapped in red ribbon. When you emerged, your face lit up at the sight of him.

“Ebenezer,” you said warmly. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I, uh, made something for you,” Scrooge said, holding out the tin. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You made this? For me?”

Scrooge nodded, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy. “It’s nothing fancy. Just some caramels. But they’re… well, they’re from the heart.”

You untied the ribbon and opened the tin as you picked up one of the caramels, examining the delicate chocolate drizzle, before taking a bite. Your eyes lighting up as you smiled.

“Ebenezer, these are wonderful,” you said. “I can’t believe you made them yourself.”

“I had a little help,” he admitted, his voice soft. “But I wanted to do something for you. You’ve given so much to others. I thought it was time someone gave back to you.”

Your expression softened as you reached out to take his hand. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.” Stepping closer you rested your head against his chest to listen to the steady beat of his heart.

As you two stood together, the sounds of the city fading into the background, Scrooge felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the candy he’d made. It was the warmth of connection, of giving, and of knowing he had brought joy to someone who had shown him the true meaning of kindness.

And in that moment, Ebenezer Scrooge realized that the sweetest gifts were not made of sugar and caramel, but of thought, care, and love.

[papibite]

EVEN MORE SCROOGE IDEAS

I am down bad for this man I’m sorry

• Scrooge somehow gets drunk at a party and Reader, being his neighbor, helps him get home. It’s a soft moment where reader helps scrooge as he pukes in the restroom and lays him down into the bed whereas Scrooge grabs their arm and asks them to stay with tears in his eyes. The reader stays at his side all night and Scrooge wakes up to find them asleep in the same position (sitting on the side of the bed after pulling up a chair to stay next to him) and it’s just wholesome interaction of taking care of one another

• What if Scrooge (Before ghost) heard the sounds of a violin or instrument of your choosing and followed it to find the reader so focused as they received coins from the passerby who enjoyed their tune. Scrooge threatens to get them arrested and insults their music while heading home. The reader simply changes locations and Scrooge (after ghost) follows the melody and returns to the reader and apologizes while joining in and sitting, watching their performance in awe

• Reader is a Nobel person who has never met Scrooge aside from one encounter years ago (before ghost) and has always had a bad impression of him as well as his distaste growing from the rumors that had spread of his behavior for far to long. Scrooge, now changed, tries his best to show his new side to the reader, but the reader is stubborn in their opinion and refuses to give in to his “act”. Scrooge is upset but can’t do anything. Scrooge then sees a child alone and with a scrapped knee or some sort of small injury and goes to find something to patch them up. The reader then walks until they also find the small child. Scrooge comes back and the reader refuses to let them near the child but he pleads to them to at least let him help wrap up the wound, then he promises to leave them. The reader accepts this and the child is patched up, and true to his word Ebenezer leaves.

Spicy-

• Reader starts noticing how much Ebenezer enjoys receiving positive feedback and praise when helping others, as opposed to how he was treated before. Perhaps this can be used to help in other situations?

• Because Reader is a bit rough and can’t stand scrooges attitude, there have been instances where they pull on the man’s cravat/ascot tie to pull him down to eye level, when it’s just the two of them alone. Despite the circumstances and the amount of disrespect, scrooge finds himself shivering when he’s pulled down in that manner. The boldness, the intimacy of their closeness.

[oothepinksquidoo]

Gingerbread men .★. scrooge x reader oneshot

Hey there! So this is a one shot for my book, his past our future, but I thought it could be just fine on it's own!

Infomation: You own a bakery, Bob's kids, Tim and Katherine help out in the bakery. This is after the movie so Scrooge is all happy and stuff Pretty much all you need LMFAO (though if you want context check my past post for the link the book *hint hint*)

It had been a week since Bob had officially joined Ebenezer as business partners and life was almost perfect, extremely busy most definitely, but I wouldn't want it any other way. 

Today, I was at the bakery, it was a slow day with little to no customers coming in, this usually happened at least once a week, usually in the middle as everyone was busy. Usually, when this would happen I would usually hop in the back and bake on my own until a customer comes in, yet today was… well slightly different.

“Y/n, is it always this quiet here?” Tim asked, who was practising walking without his crutch, he still needed it most definitely, but there was a slight improvement to him since he started to take his medicine!

“Not always, kid. The bakery won't always be busy and that's okay, it just means we have to find our own entertainment.” I said with a grin.

“Like what?” Katherine asked, “And before you ask I ain't singing again.”

I laughed slightly, “Don't worry about that, Kathy.” I have some spare ingredients in the kitchen… How about we make some gingerbread men?” The children's eyes lit up when I said that, “Why, we could make your whole family!” The kids cheered, running to the back.

I hastily followed them into the back, what could possibly be more fun than spending time with these kids? And let's be honest, anything beats standing at the counter waiting for no one to come in.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Ebenezer was working at his desk with a slight grin on his face as he talked to Bob, he looked up at the time, “Ah, I must be off, why don't you take a break, Bob? Go get some lunch with Ethel or whatever you please?” He said as he grabbed his coat.

“That sounds great, Ebenezer.” Bob said, still unsure about calling him by his first name, “I’m sure Ethel wouldn't mind me popping home for half an hour or so.” 

“As long as you like,” Ebenezer assured as he left the shop and hopped down the stairs, hastily walking across the road to the alleyway. Ebenezer, as he had done for the past few weeks, waved and said hello to everyone he possibly could, getting greeted back. He had to admit he loved this new feeling, yet he still felt like he was a lost cause… He knew it was stupid to think this way, and he knew I would scold him for thinking this way, but he did such a thing anyway. 

He shook off the thought as he looked at my bakery, feeling much calmer at the sight of it and he slipped in. He noticed no one was at the front, he cleared his throat, “Uh, Y/n, my dear?” Ebenezer noticed the bell and pressed it, hoping to catch anyone’s attention.

“Ebenezer!” I greeted as I walked to the front, covered in flour. “I wasn't expecting you here so soon..” I laughed awkwardly.

“What on earth happened to you?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. He walked behind the counter and began patting the flour out of my hair, chuckling away to himself.

“Ah, well, you see I'm letting the kids make gingerbread men for their family. I think more flour got on us than in the bowls.” I laughed too, patting the flour off my clothes.

Ebenezer’s smile rose even higher, “The children are here? How's Tim now? Is he making a recovery?”

I intertwined my finger’s with Ebenezers, “How about you see for yourself?” Before he could say another word I pulled him into the Kitchen. Ebenezer yelped slightly as he was pulled unexpectedly, but soon laughed as we walked.

We entered the kitchen, and to say his jaw dropped to the floor was an understatement. “Oh my!” He smirked, remarking that the kids were more heavily floured than I was.

“It was Tim’s fault,” Katherine said, rolling her eyes. 

“As long as you two are having fun.” Ebenezer said ruffling Tim’s hair, “Believe me, there is nothing worse than living a life with no fun.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, “Which is the reason why you shall be joining us!”

Ebenezer’s smile fell, “I beg your pardon?” 

“You. will. Be. Joining. Us.” I repeated slower.

“Absolutely not.” Ebenezer refused, “I’m not wearing the right clothes! And I have to go back to the office. Imagine the looks I'd get covered in flour?”

I put a finger on his lips, “Hush now. I’m sure the kids would love it, love.” With pleading eyes, the children gazed upward at Ebenezer.

Ebenezer sighed, “Oh, very well.” The kids cheered as they ran back to the counter for the next steps.

I turned to face Ebenezer, who was in a small huff. “Good boy.” I kissed his cheek and walked over to the kids to help them out.

Ebenezer watched me walk away as his face flushed red. He cleared his throat, “I uh, uhm. What- how-”

I laughed at him, “Well, first of all, we need the flour to actually go in the bowl this time, got it, Timmy?” He nodded, giggling slightly. 

I explained all the steps on how to make the dough. I then gave Ebenezer a bowl as I demonstrated on my own so they could follow. Katherine picked up on the steps extremely quickly and Tim wasn't too bad either! Ebenezer on the other hand? Well, the spirit was there at least.

I walked around the group, inspecting their gingerbread men, “So who are you making Kathy?” I asked.

“Well, There’s me, Martha, Belinda, Anastasia, and Peter! I’m also going to make mother.” She explained as she rolled out her dough for the last gingerbread.

“And I'm going to make me, Brea, Lucy, and Matthew!” Tim added, “And of course father too.”

“Wonderful,” I grinned at them, I peaked over Ebenezer’s shoulder, “So what are you making, dear?”

“That's something you’ll have to wait and see,” He said, concentrating as hard as he could. “I do have to admit, you make this business appear easier than it is.” 

“Well, I've had a lot of experience,” I replied, returning to my own dough to continue my own gingerbread men. 

After ten or so minutes, everyone had completed their gingerbread men and were now being baked over the fire. The kids looked around the room, “Now what?” Tim asked.

“Now we just have to wait, I'm afraid,” I replied to him which he sighed too. 

“Why don't you children go outside and play for a while? When they're prepared, we'll give you a call.” Ebenezer suggested, which they both nodded to, running out of the kitchen to go play in the snow. Ebenezer smiled warmly once they left, “What wonderful children they are.”

“They sure are.” I replied, leaning on Ebenezer, I looked up at him, “So why did you visit today?”

Ebenezer rubbed the back of his neck, “ah… Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid. I just wanted to see you, since you've begun running the bakery again I've missed your company at the shop. I know I have Bob, but well. He’s not you.”

Heat rushed to my face, “Oh Ebenezer, you are such an adorable man.” I laughed slightly, “In all honesty, I've missed you too.” His face lit up at that, “But, we both have our businesses to run, we have plenty of time to see one another after closing hours, correct?”

“Quite so.” Ebenezer agreed, “Though that doesn't stop me from being here right now, I told Bob he could take an hour or so off. I’m all yours for now, dear.” 

I looked at him to see the flour that covered his cheek, “I think the flour has claimed you instead,” I joke, wiping it away.

After so long I checked the gingerbread and saw they were perfectly cooked, “Ah, perfect, would you be a sweetheart and go get the kids?” I asked, Ebenezer straight away got to it, walking to the front to collect the kids.

Meanwhile, I grabbed the gingerbread from the fire oven, the kid’s gingerbread looked beautiful! They were perfect! Ebenezers? Well, it was perfect in his own way. I had to tilt my head slightly to see the shape of men though…

I placed all the gingerbread onto cooling trays before the kids re-entered with Ebenezer. They all gasped seeing their gingerbread.

“They look marvellous! Well done children!” Ebenezer praised, he looked over to his and laughed awkwardly, “Well, mine is… something!”

“It’s beautiful in its own way.” I kissed his cheek, returning to my own baked treats, “Now, it's time for the fun part, Decorating!” I announced, the kids squealed with excitement. 

“I suppose I can try.” Ebenezer looked nervously at his gingerbread, he only made two yet he was struggling to keep up, whereas the kid made loads and they looked beautiful! 

Twenty minutes later, everyone had fully finished decorating. The kid smiled looking at their gingerbread, they both did a wonderful job, they were truly talented in the business of bakery. 

“Well done, my loves! They look so beautiful!” I praised them as I helped them pack their gingerbread into baskets. “You both are so talented!”

I walked over to Ebenezer’s, his were definitely… interesting, “Well, they look like people!” I said with a grin. “Can I ask who they are now?”

“Well,” Ebenezer began, “They're supposed to be us.” He squinted slightly, “They don't look a lot like us, huh.” 

I wrapped my arms around him, “I think they're wonderful.”

“Y/n? Can we take these home now?” Tim asked, quite giddily.

“I don't see why not?” I replied, “Why don't Ebenezer and I follow you there, it’d be nice to see your mother, I haven't seen her very much since Christmas.” Ebenezer and the children agreed as we followed them out of the bakery.

Ebenezer looked around quite confused at the darkness of London, “Did I leave Bob at the shop all afternoon?” He asked, “I’ll make it up to him tomorrow,” He said as he locked the door for me to the bakery. I linked arms with Ebenezer, as we walked; he became slightly anxious as the kids sprinted ahead. “Don't go too far ahead, children! Stay where we can see you.” 

“You know, You’d be an excellent father, my love.” I told him, and he smiled at that.

“I must admit, I have always dreamed of being a father one day. And after Isabel left me I deemed that desire as impossible.” He spoke softly.

“Well, now you have me. Maybe that dream will come true one day.” I replied, squeezing his arm slightly. As we walked I saw the Cratchit home get closer and closer in view. “Ah, there it is, the Cratchit home.” The kids ran ahead to the door, opening it in excitement to present their family with what they had made.

Soon enough we got to the door too, seeing in front of us the whole family crowding around the table, “We made the whole Cratchit family!” Tim announced, “Y/n showed us how to make them!”

Bob looked at the baskets and smiled, “Wonderful! Just wonderful! You two are the finest bakers in the whole of London!” 

One of the older kids, Martha, laughed as she noticed me at the doorway with Ebenezer, “Y/n don't take offence to that statement.” 

Bob turned around, he laughed in surprise, “Y/n, Ebenezer! So glad to see both of you, sorry I wasn't expecting visitors.” 

“It’s quite alright Bob, we were just making sure the children got back here safely, we couldn't possibly let them go through London at this hour.” Ebenezer assured, taking off his top hat and placing it on Tim, making the other children laugh.

“Well, we have extra soup and bread rolls if you would like to stay for dinner.” Ethel said as she placed some bowls on the table, “I’m sure the kids would love to have you here and so would I of course.”

“I don't see why not,” I looked at Ebenezer as I placed the basket that had Ebenezer’s and my gingerbread men in on the floor, “What do you say, love?”

“If that's okay with you, we’d love to.” Ebenezer replied, taking off his jacket and placing them with the other coats.

The Cratchit children cheered once they heard the news of us staying over for dinner, and I was delighted too. This family was the most incredible family I could possibly imagine! In fact, I couldn't imagine a life without them, they made me feel included with their family when I had no one else to turn to. In a way, they were my family. 

[quill-pen]

This scene, but with Ebenezer and Reader when they first meet.

And then Reader goes: 🤨*looks Ebenezer over carefully* 😏 "No. But you do remind me of the Big Bad Wolf."

Ebenezer: 😐*blinks in confusion* I beg your pardon?

Reader: You know--"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me in"? "What big teeth you have," "All the better to eat you with"?

Ebenezer: 🤨... You believe I look like a villainous wolf?

Reader: Well, only when you smile like that. Otherwise you just look like a regular wolf--steely hair and all. 😆It's uncanny!

[nessihow]

Tenseness : 1. A deal well done. [Ebenezer Scrooge x Reader]

Before the ghosts of Christmas visit Ebenezer Scrooge, the miser must face a significant conflict with the daughter of his former business partner. Arabella witnesses the terrible illness of Bob Cratchit’s son and decides to cover his work hours so that he can take the child to the doctor. This steadfast decision by the young woman not only gives Mr. Scrooge a massive headache but also creates a tremendous tension between the two of them—a tension that, despite their mutual reservations, seems to have only one simple resolution.

Arabella Marley gazed out the carriage window, wishing the horses could fly like Santa Claus’s reindeer. That way, she could avoid the endless horse-drawn traffic, street orchestras, and children singing in the streets. Not that she had anything against Christmas—well, perhaps she did feel a bit of distaste for the season. But it wasn’t the joy of others celebrating Christmas that bothered her; it was the relentless insistence of everyone trying to involve her in the festivities.

Every year since her father’s death had been the same. Sometimes, she would muster the courage to attend a dinner with friends, but it always ended the same way: Arabella crying and locking herself away at home for the rest of the year.

This year, she planned to save herself the heartbreak by staying home from the start. That didn’t stop her from decorating her childhood home, though, as a way to remember the times when she had been happy. Each year, she prepared a modest meal and invited the same person to dine with her.

The carriage stopped right in front of the gloomy office. In stark contrast to the bustling street, it resembled a wasteland—no lights, no decorations, not even the snow had been cleared from the facade. The jingling of bells at the entrance broke the eerie silence as the young woman stepped inside.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Marley!” Bob Cratchit shouted immediately, making Arabella jump. Bob always seemed brimming with energy, something unusual for a man who worked from dawn until dusk.

“Season’s greetings, Cratchit. How have you been? And how’s the family?” Arabella asked, genuinely interested in the worker’s well-being. She had always liked the redheaded man—a hardworking, kind, and good soul condemned to poverty by life’s cruel hand.

“We’re managing as best we can, but something tells me this Christmas will be special.” The young man clasped her hands enthusiastically. From the very first day he had started working at the office, Arabella had stood up for him against her father’s sharp-tongued partner.

“I hope so, Bob. I believe I saw Kathy and Tim singing nearby. I couldn’t stop, but I want you to give them this.” She whispered, handing him some loose coins from her pocket. It wasn’t much, but she knew it would be needed in his household.

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Ara—” Bob’s words were abruptly cut off by the sharp sound of a door slamming and the sudden presence of his employer entering the room.

“CRATCHIT. I pay you to work, not to chat with the boss’s daughter.” Cratchit swallowed the obvious retort that almost escaped him; technically, Mr. Marley was no longer his boss since he had passed away.

“It’s my fault, Mr. Scrooge. I came to see you and got distracted,” Arabella interjected, as usual, defending the poor man and facing her father’s gruff business partner.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have flowers to lay on your father’s grave?”

“I’ve already been, sir. That assumption was rather rude,” Arabella replied with saintly patience. With her mother’s passing, she was now the only one who visited her father’s grave, and Scrooge had no right to question her mourning.

“In any case, what do you want from me?” Scrooge turned his back to her, retreating to his office and leaving the door open for her to follow.

“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Scrooge. I was heading home after some Christmas shopping and thought I’d pay you a visit,” Arabella said as she watched the older man settle into his leather chair and lean against his desk. Her gaze wandered to Jacob Marley’s desk, where she could vividly recall her father sitting. As a child, she would visit his workplace to see Prudence or bring him lunch, though she rarely paid attention to her surroundings. Most visits ended with her playing with the family dog or annoying Ebenezer Scrooge back when he could still tolerate people’s company.

“I greatly appreciate your sentiment, my dear. You’ve seen me; now you may go.” He waved her off dismissively, but Arabella ignored him and sat in one of the chairs across from the desk. She wasn’t afraid of Scrooge’s temper. She had known him her entire life and swore that, deep down, the man held a sliver of affection for her. Besides, the business was still partly hers, even if her status as a woman barred her from inheriting property outright.

“Don’t you miss him on nights like this?” she asked, referring to her father.

“Terribly. The weeks before Christmas are when everyone focuses on spending money rather than paying their debts,” he grumbled, clearly exasperated. It was true—recent days had burdened him with a long list of debtors. In Scrooge’s view, the holiday season was no excuse for shirking financial responsibilities, no matter how small the debts.

“Don’t they have the right to enjoy time with their loved ones?” Arabella reasoned gently. Scrooge glanced at her briefly and swallowed hard. Those chestnut curls, inherited from her mother, stirred bitter memories.

“Nonsense...” An overwhelming silence filled the room. Scrooge dipped his quill into the inkwell, but before he could resume writing in his ledger, Cratchit knocked at the door, this time not alone.

“Forgive the intrusion, but my young son has come to see me because he is unwell. I beg you to allow me to leave my post for the day.”

Arabella leapt from her chair immediately to attend to Tim, who clung to his father’s leg with flushed cheeks and a face that was far too pale. She tried to warm the boy with her own mantle, which was much thicker than his damp clothing. Tim slowly let go of his father and moved toward the fireplace as Arabella guided him into her arms.

Scrooge observed the scene, feeling something stir deep within him. Flashbacks of his sister’s illness clawed at his mind, but he refused to let them surface.

“Doesn’t he have a mother to care for him? You know perfectly well you can’t leave,” Scrooge said, his authoritative tone clashing with the guilt in his eyes, which he couldn’t meet directly.

“Why not? This child needs to see a doctor,” Arabella exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at Scrooge.

“There’s too much work during this season; times are hard—”

“Bob, you can leave. Take him to the doctor. I won’t stand by while your child suffers,” Arabella interrupted, her voice unwavering with a courage she hadn’t known she possessed. She usually held Scrooge in great respect, but not when it came to a child’s health. She wouldn’t allow his greed to endanger Tim’s life. Deep down, she knew Scrooge wasn’t a bad man and didn’t deserve to carry such guilt.

“Excuse me, my dear, but may we speak in private?” Scrooge stood abruptly, forcing a frustrated smile and rubbing his hands to conceal his irritation. Cratchit nodded and led his son out of the office. A door slammed, leaving the older man and Arabella alone in the room.

“Since when do you make decisions in my business?!” Scrooge shouted before realizing he had raised his voice too much. The fear in Arabella’s eyes made him cough out an awkward apology as he took a step back.

“Since it’s partly mine, and since a life is at stake,” she replied firmly, her gaze steely. Her resolve caused Scrooge’s determination to falter. He glanced through the tiny window at his employee’s sick child. Memories of his sister’s suffering resurfaced—images he tried to bury every day.

“Mr. Scrooge, let him have a few days off. You know how treacherous an illness like this can be,” she pleaded softly, her large brown eyes filled with sincerity. Scrooge’s breath caught in his throat as he noticed her biting her lip in concentration. His thoughts betrayed him, forcing him to close his eyes tightly to block out inappropriate ideas he couldn’t admit, even to himself.

“Fine! Tell him he can go. I’ll find someone else to do the work,” Scrooge barked, crossing his arms and turning away.

“Wonderful! Thank you, Mr. Scrooge. I knew you’d understand.” Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck in a warm hug of gratitude.

“But he shouldn’t expect to be paid for those days,” Scrooge muttered, clearing his throat and gently pushing her away. He detested physical contact, but Arabella’s in particular unnerved him.

“I’ll do it,” she declared with determination. Scrooge stared at her in confusion.

“I’ll work the days Bob misses, so he won’t lose the wages you know he desperately needs.”

“Absolutely not. You... you have other things to do,” Scrooge objected quickly, retreating to his chair.

“I have nothing to do! I bring flowers to my parents, take strolls with the village ladies, prepare enormous meals I eat alone, reject marriage proposals, and crochet by the fire. I feel like an old woman at barely twenty, Ebenezer!” Arabella’s voice rose as she gestured wildly, though she realized it wasn’t Scrooge’s fault she felt so frustrated. Still, he bore the brunt of her outburst.

The man stared at her, stunned. He had never seen her like this before, but her unrefined, untamed manner stirred something inside him. He considered the idea. Arabella was educated, intelligent, and capable of doing the work, but something about her presence unsettled him. His mind returned to the image of the sick child and the memory of his deceased sister. With a deep sigh, he relented once again.

“Don’t think I’ll treat you any differently just because you’re Marley’s daughter. I still don’t understand your charitable gesture, but I can’t stop you from working in a business that’s partly yours.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“Be here tomorrow at seven in the morning. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓞𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼 | 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓰𝓮 (2022)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 Three (Part 1) | Jacob Marley

Summary: After dismissing Bob Cratchit and Ms. Blackwood from his office, Ebenezer Scrooge makes his way home. Hopeful to have a quite evening, the man is utterly unprepared for what comes next.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the chapter delay, loves! Mental health got the better of me, as did schooling.

I struggled to find a good mid-way point between the two halves of this chapter and with how much film/book content to actually include. I hope skipping around some parts and only including the important bits is something that works for you guys, but please let me know! I looove feedback!

As you will see, this chapter is very, very long. I actually had to cut it into two parts. I am still working on the second half (which will become chapter 4), so please stay tuned for that! (ﾉ°³ °)ﾉ

Word Count: 4017 Ao3 - Mature Rating WARNINGS: None! :)

Please let me know if you would like to be included in a tag list!

@the-house-of-auditore-frye

"No decent man, no self preserving gentleman, will want to wed you. You will die a spinster. That is your truth.” The man stands there, chest heaving from such an impassioned speech, and has the gaul to look self satisfied.

“So no, madam, I will not be joining you, nor anyone else, in any celebration of this wretched season.”

/////

‘Ebenezer Scrooge…’ 

The grandfather clock ticks away, mocking him as he paces in his office. Ebenezer takes one turn, then another, before slowly retracing his steps. He begins blowing out his candles, starting with the one sitting on his desk. 

‘Scrooge…’ A ghastly pull of air, whooshing into the silence, goes unheard by the miser. The glass encasing the candle is overcome by a ghostly apparition, fleeting and flickering though it may be. It too goes unnoticed. 

The other candles soon meet the same fate, extinguished quickly and with little flourish. Ebenezer is no longer in the mood for dramatic flair. He’s had quite enough excitement for one week, let alone a single evening. He allows one uncovered light to continue flickering as he begins to lock up his funds. Meticulously, he collects every coin and weighs them out. He counts the rogue scale weights and odd ha’penny. But, as he lifts the coin purse from the scale, a feminine face stares back at him.

‘The pledges I’ve broken...’ He rolls his own sins through his mind. The woman stares at him from the shining metal and he cannot fight the wave of sadness that smashes his heart. ‘A fool I was.’

“Tell me,” He begins aloud and turns on his heel to face his mastiff. “Why should I be bright and merry? When all the things of this world conspire against me?”

He blows out the last candle and walks to the front room once more. Just one-and-twenty minutes ago he had sent home his clerk and ledgerman from the very spot he now stood. Just eleven minutes ago he had watched from his office, not ten paces back, as the seamstress fled his establishment in tears. A small twinge of regret runs through his heart, but he shakes it off with a snarl.

‘Ebenezer Scrooge…’ The call is deep, raspy, and once again goes unheard. 

Ebenezer adjusts his vest and tailcoat, buttoning the latter item to better prepare for the winter weather. His foul mood only worsens as he pulls on his frock overcoat and top hat, as he now has a clear vantage point of the storm outside. The mild flecks of snow from his previous excursion are transformed into raging, swirling pebbles of ice and enormous flakes. It is as if the cold finds a way past the door and into his bones just from gazing out of the window. The accompanying wind bashes brutally against the glass and he regrets having allowed Ms. Blackwood entry this evening. Had he not permitted her into the counting house he would now be sitting comfortably at home by the fire. 

“Come, Prudence,” He slips his gloves on and then slips out the door. “Let us get this over with.” 

And so the pair march through the snow, one keeping her head low to avoid the cold flakes and the other trying to steady himself on the cobbles with his cane. No carriages roll down the lane, nor are there any people about. He passes one man advertising some ‘Christmas Extravaganza’ and is forced to take one of his papers. Scrooge thinks the man a fool for staying out so late yet does not bother to stop and tell him so. Instead, he presses on from the business district to the housing streets, happily bidding his nightly farewells to Cornhill Street. Each streetlamp threatens to flicker out as he goes on and soon he quickens his pace, unwilling to freeze over. 

He moves onto the street, finding it better worn and less slippery than the walk way. Occasionally, the tips of his shoes flick up some snow and the metal of his cane slips on ice. The layers of white steadily build underfoot and distaste claws its way into the back of his throat. He can hear Prudence shuffling behind him and glances backward to check on her every so often. On one such check in, the hound seems to be occupied by the streetlamps. They flicker oddly in the corner of his eye, but he ignores it. Prudence, however, does not. The mastiff pauses, her long, low whine swallowed by the wind. She watches as the red flames swirl and flare into icy blues and deep indigos. 

Feeling uneasy, her master turns abruptly. His eyes scan the empty street frantically, from one walkway to the other. He spins a little on his heel, looking about as though he were a startled doe. “Hello?”

Ebenezer takes a moment to glance down at the late Marley’s pet. “Did you feel that Prudence? A shift in the air… Like someone was just here.” A pause. “Oh, great heavens! What am I saying? You’re a dog.”

With a growl, the man pulls his top hat further over his forehead and slaps his thigh twice; it’s a gesture which beckons Prudence to his side once more. Within a couple breaths, his stately lodging comes into view. Just past Cornhill Street, standing proudly at the edge of Groveland Court, it would have been easy to miss with the darkness of night finally settling and the fog rising to cover the blackened gate. Fortunately for the miser, his servants (of which he keeps only two and on occasion hires a charwoman) had arranged his home in proper order this night. He struggles with the gate for a moment, grumbling under his breath the entire time, before finally reaching his doorstep. As he reaches for the door knocker, a chill rushes through him too mighty to be natural. 

Ebenezer turns, sharp eyes glaring out into the steadily thickening blizzard. Nothing greets him. He turns back to the door, startling at the ghastly blue face that greets him in the knocker. He gasps aloud, tripping backwards for a moment.

“Ye gods!” But with a blink, the visage disappears.

With one hand over his heart, he uses the other to lift the offending metal. It remains as it should and the man has to blink away the residual shock. As he taps the intricately twisted rectangle against its backing, soft words leave his lips unprovoked. “I must have worked much too much, Prudence.”

He does not have time to do anything else as the door opens for him. A man stands on the other side, dressed down in evening wear. He welcomes Ebenezer inside, holding the door ajar for both man and dog. No words are exchanged as the lender passes his outerwear off to his doorman. Prudence makes her own way through the house and quickly disappears from sight. 

“Paulette has set aside your evening wear, sir.” The man's voice is muffled as he moves into a room adjoining the foyer. “I shall be up momentarily to-”

“No, thank you, Charles. I am capable of caring for myself this evening. I have the bell, should I need you.” Scrooge sighs harshly. 

He moves up the stairs that curl up and around the back of the foyer, stopping briefly halfway to bark an order. He does not look back, nor acknowledge the fact that his footman is in another room. “I will take dinner in the parlour, have Paulette light the fireplace. I expect my armchair has been moved accordingly?”

Charles reappears in the doorway, but the rustling of his clothes are not enough to draw the money lender’s eye. “All is as it was last evening, sir.”

“Good.” A couple more steps up and then– “Once you are through with your tasks, go home.”

“Pardon?” The surprise is plain to read from Charles’ tone. 

Ebenezer Scrooge turns, aiming a glare at the man. “I do not wish to be further disturbed this season. You will not be required on the morrow, neither will I require Paulette. Take her with you, before the storm prevents you. I understand that you may wish to spend the day with family.”

“Thank you, sir–”

“Get on with your work, Charles.” A dismissive flick of the hand sends the footman scurrying. 

/////

The green nightcap bounces against his shoulder blade as Scrooge stands from his armchair. The fire’s warm glow is slowly dwindling and not a tendril of sleep touched the miser. Unlike the dog sprawled just beside the fireplace, half asleep with a bone in her mouth. Taking the poker, he gently prods the coals. He watches, entranced by the fire as it roars back to life, and imagines the day’s events played out in the oranges and reds. Yet, his green evening wear shimmers in the light and catches his attention. From the pocket of his robe, the corner of a paper crinkles loudly. 

The flyer for the Liverpool Street Christmas Extravaganza greets him. With a shake of his head he thinks, ‘I thought Charles disposed of this garbage.’

He stares for another moment. “Every year, Prudence,” words both venomous and disappointed sound sweet on his wine-calmed tongue. “They are all filled with such joy, such gladness. They practically sparkle with it. They must know, surely, they must.”

He prods the fire a little harder before returning the poker to its rightful place. He replaces the empty space in his hand with the flyer. Scrooge squints at the page, turning it into the light to read it better, and speaks his opinions aloud, “With the growing surplus populus and housing crisis, not to mention the absolute mockery that is being made of good business with these workmen strikes, someone ought to treat these people tougher. Christmas? A humbug. It’s as though the entire city takes a day off! A day off, how ridiculous! Bring them down to size, I say.” 

Prudence glances up as her owner’s voice increases in volume. She drops her bone, stands, and walks further away from him and the fire. By the time he crumples the flyer and tosses it into the flames, she is adrift in the world of canine dreams once more. 

“I do not understand, will never understand, how they’re so cheery! I am not happy so why should they be? Do they not see how pointless and foul this holiday is? Well? Tell me!” He shouts, grabbing the poker once more to fully squash the remnants of the paper.

This time, however, as the poker meets the coals a bright flash of blue flame 

rushes up to meet him. With a startled yelp, Ebenezer flies backward into his armchair. The blue flame shifts and whirls however, leaving the gentleman even worse for wear. It begins to freeze, ice and frost overtaking the fireplace and the wall. The mirror above the mantel is encased in pale, blue shards which soon erupt toward him. Icicles form on the chandelier, reaching down for him, and the wooden floorboards beneath groan with the chill. A ghastly face, somehow familiar, stretches across the brick in front of him. Its mouth is formed by the firebox, its bottom jaw running down and across the hearth. His name, once unheard and unnoticed, comes calling on the howling winds. Snow and hail smash at his feet, faster and faster the louder the roars of his name become. It is a hell which ends only when the ghost of his former employer floats before him. The armchair, a symbol of safety and normalcy for the miser, is pulled from under him. He watches it scratch across his floors, glide smoothly to his midnight caller, before ultimately becoming the visitor’s throne. 

“J-J-Jacob Marley?” At first, Ebenezer speaks with fear. His voice trembles and he shakes in his slippers. Then he manages a grip on reality.  “Impossible! You’re–”

“Dead?” Marley laughs and settles into the chair. “Quite right, my friend, quite right. And yet… Here I am! If anything, I am dead tired.”

“What in God’s name–” Scrooge steps forward again, a scowl on his face once more.

“Oh no, Ebenezer. Do not bring your God into this.” The phantom groans and waves his arms about him like he is physically pained. “No, no. I’m not here on that old business.”

“What? What are you talking about? Why are you here?” His friend’s confusion is plain to see and Marley laughs again.

“I do apologise for the dramatic entrance, old boy. Those in charge insist on a bit of… pageantry, elegance, hell, even spectacle if you will. Goes with the territory, as is apparent. But, I am sure you and I can discuss the rest like reasonable men. No?” He rubs a ghastly hand across the right side of his moustache. The phantom’s other hand reaches down, patting and brushing along the coat of his prior animal companion. He muses to her briefly as he allows Scrooge to process his coming. 

The cogs practically screech to a stop inside the living gentleman’s head, his eyes brighten and he turns to the fire with a gentle smile. “Ah! Marley, I see it so: I must have drifted into slumber by the fire. I am dreaming! Oh what brilliance the mind does conjure!”

The shining, golden coins of Marley’s eyes shine bright then and a wretched mixture of a scoff & laugh exit his frozen lips. “Very well, Ebenezer.”

He rises from the chair, carelessly sweeping an arm to the side and battering the piece of furniture away. Prudence retreats, planting herself firmly behind her master. The winds within the room pick up, the chill of the air turns to bitter ice, and the world dims to near darkness. There is a momentary flash of blue flame, all consuming, and boxes of chains drop from thin air. They snap forward, flashing so quickly toward Ebenezer that he had no other option to let out a screech—

“No!” Ebenezer awakens in a flash, head pounding unnaturally. He is wrapped in the sheets of his own bed, but he cannot recall ever dragging himself into his quarters. 

There is a glass of water on his nightstand of which he takes a happy drink. The little light that streams in from the gaps of the curtains bounces along the wood of the bedside table, it lights the face of the small clock that which sits on it. The roundness of the moon peeks through and he wonders immediately at the time. A glance at the aforementioned machine shocks him and brings forth a fiery, recent memory. 

I have pulled a few chains… Marley’s dark tone mocks him, a vivid echo inside Scrooge’s head.

And arranged for three visitors to call upon you before morning… The clock reads 12:57am, a chill thrills his spine. 

The first shall come when the bell tolls One… Yes, he sees the vision of his visitor so clearly that he begins to sweat. 

The second will come calling when the bell tolls Two. The third shall call, well, at Three… Another glance at the time brings Scrooge to fling aside his bedclothes and pace the room. 12:59am. In his mind, he tries to assure himself that it had all been a dream. From the ghosts of past men forgotten, to the freezing grasp of the chains against his flesh, to the terror of truths laid out so plainly before him. But, in his heart, he feels a strange stirring. His gut flips and churns so wildly that he recognizes the truth. Marley’s ghost had been real. 

The chiming cascade of the tower bells draw him from his thoughts and he whips his head to gaze at the fireplace. Perhaps the next visitor would come to him as Marley had. He waits, listening. The bells sing beautifully, hauntingly, before the hour bell drums a single note. Yet, nothing happens. Not a single speckle of dying ember flutters forward, no flecking of dust sweeps across the floor by some unseen wind. An overwhelming sense of relief floods the miser.

“Just a dream.” He mutters aloud, a happy string of words if ever he had uttered them. He turns back to his bed. “Just a dream.”

‘The first at One.’ There in the corner of his mind Marley’s voice mutters and, the moment Scrooge takes a step toward his bed, the world falls into unnatural stillness. The dust that had been previously disturbed by his movements halts midair. His breath, visible in the cold room, is frozen in a perfect, cloudy puff in front of his face. There is no more time that can be granted for his observations, as the room begins to shake. A deep rumbling can be heard both externally and rattling through his bones. The ceiling above cracks and splinters, a fissure forming rapidly and purposefully. It strikes the mirror above the fireplace mantle, cracking it clean through, before cleaving down the brick of the firebox and across the floor. The clean break in the wooden boards extends into root-like splinters, reaching for the man’s feet. 

He yelps, tripping backward over his ottoman. Tangled in his upholstery and bedclothes, Ebenezer almost misses the arrival of the first spirit. At first a floating candle, a dripping wax figure begins to form before his eyes. He is rendered speechless, helpless to wait until the ghost has fully formed. A beautiful woman, if she was indeed that, is created from the wax. Her dress and hair holds up, despite all expectations. She seems to be talking to herself, adjusting her wax clothing and admiring her form in the mirror. He can only stare, even when she turns to face him.

“—llo?” Suddenly, their eyes lock and her face is inches from his.

“Hello?” He stutters through the word. He knows his face is the perfect picture of confusion and fear. An unbecoming blend. 

“Oh! There you are! Back with us… Scrooge? It’s Scrooge, isn’t it?” She speaks in such a rush that it is hard to keep up. The man in question can only offer a mute, small nod. “Yes! That’s it, that’s the one! Oh, my! What a funny name, honey!”

There’s no time for him to have a moment of indignation because the brief pause in her speech had only been to take in air. Did she even need it? “Are you comfortable down there, Scrooge? It doesn’t look very comfortable!”

“Um, well—” 

“Oh! Never mind that, up you get!” The wax woman pulls him to his feet.

He pulls away, “Who— What. Who? What are you?”

“Ah, who am I?” She smiles, clapping her hands together proudly. “I can be anyone you have ever known! Even you.” 

Her form changes, cycling through various people in the man’s life. Several of them are depicted in unhappy tones by the yellow wax, especially the seamstress, before he is eventually mimicked. It goes on for several moments and Ebenezer does not know whether to be appalled or impressed by the menagerie of forms stored within the wax like living memories, echos of the real world around him. It is beautiful and chilling all the same. He cannot understand the science behind it and almost returns to bed, far too exhausted for this tomfoolery. But, alas, he is drawn in.

“Christmas Past?” He dares to ask.

“Yes,” She says gently. “That is I. You were not told of my coming? Or, perhaps, the most important details were omitted?”

“I was given… some guidance.” He rubs the back of his neck and relishes the feeling of the silk nightcap against his hand. 

“You have nothing to fear from me. Afterall, your welfare is my business!” 

Her statement sparks something wicked within him. Scrooge snaps at her unapologetically. “I should think not! Ghost, spirit, phantom— no matter the kind of visage you are! To be disturbed at this hour is hardly conducive to my welfare!” 

Christmas Past appears affronted and she looks at him as though seeing him for the first time. There is judgement in her gaze when she says, “Your… redemption, then.”

/////

You bring a small tub into the light of the fire, empty save for a washcloth and a bar of soap. The pathetic embers swirling at the lip of the hearth are quickly stamped out and the coals replaced. There is a kettle hanging over the open flame and the soft noise of boiling water fills the cramped space. You are fortunate enough to have your own room in the poorhouse, separated from countless families, with two beds and a wood stove set apart from the living space. It is easy to maintain and has two windows which can be opened at any time of day with relative safety. 

Though it is not much, it is enough. Once you paid your debts, you would buy a room in a nice boarding house on a good street, with amicable neighbours, and plenty of windows to let out the stale air. Kitty would benefit from occasional lessons at the church and your focus could return to the shop. Yes, it would be harder to hide Kitty from the world but you would not impose this life upon her for all her years.

With a strained sigh, you bring yourself from your reverie and grab at the blackened kettle above the fire. The mit around your hand is barely enough to keep your skin from burning, so you make quick work of drawing up a bath. The water swirls, still boiling, against the sides and you move on to ready the warming pan as you wait for it to cool. Kitty sits in the corner, farthest from the open windows, watching you. 

“Mother,” Her voice is so delicate, soft. Her demeanour is far too demure for your liking, but you answer her call with clarity and calm. 

“Yes, Kitty?” You push the metal pan into the coals at the very edge of the fire, those just beginning to die out, and turn to face her.

“May I close the windows? The winter chill–” She shivers in her thin dayshirt and your heart breaks a little. 

“Yes, come, help me close them. I think we have left them open too long, let us not freeze or let in more snow.” You move to one side of the room and she goes to the other. Soon enough, the windows are closed and the bath has settled to an acceptable temperature. “Take your bath first, Catherine, I’d rather the warmth of the water go to you.”

Eventually, you are both ready to sleep. Catherine clambers into her bed, warmed by the bedpan you had placed underneath, and pulls the ratty bedclothes to her chin. It is easy to tuck her in, brush back her hair, and tell her a small story. It is hard to leave her, take the hot pan from under her bed, and listen to the howling of the wind as it rattles against the glass panes. It is agonising to lie awake, listening to the small child’s breath and thinking about the world of hurt Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge had caused you with but a few words. 

There is nothing that could properly describe the way your heart had been torn apart and the pieces set ablaze. The sadder yet was the fact that it had not even been his fault. He had been entirely cordial until the payments had begun to slip, until your debt grew and his frustrations mounted. You had revealed to him the truth of your status, your skeletons pulled from the closet of your own volition. The tears barely registered, nor did the taste of salt against your lips. Your family had cast you out, had struck a bargain, and all you had done was prove them right.Completely oblivious to the torment of your aforementioned debtor and the tightening strings of fate, you drift into a world plagued with nightmares. Nightmares that end with only one thing: giving up the one spark of joy in your world– Catherine. Your daughter.

[the-house-of-auditore-frye]

Scrooge x FortuneTeller!reader headcanons

So I was originally going to just put this on my concept list but my friend @redlotus98 encouraged me to give writing a go so here it is! (Sorry, not proof read)

Also while, there is no explicit description of the reader, it is slightly implied POC!reader. By the way, I feel I should mention that I don't know how to read fortunes so please forgive me if you do know, and I've written something wrong!

Oh and it's not good. I can't write. Don't judge.😘

Let's begin!

So, you came to London to make a new life for yourself. Your parents back home were very worried about what you would do but you had a plan: fortune telling! On your mother's side, you had learnt the art of it and were prepared to make it your trade!

When you got to London, you were lucky to become friends with a woman called Hela Huffman. She understood the struggle of being so far away from home and offered to take care of you with her husband, Harry. The couple became very fond of you and helped spread word of your business. And soon, your business took off!

Now one particular man was not impressed with your fortune telling: Ebenezer Scrooge. Scrooge had tried everything he could think of to get rid of you - the beautifully exotic fortune teller whom he couldn't get out of his mind all the time! He even tried calling the police on you but that didn't go very far when you predicted the officer was due for a promotion. The worst part was that you had a reputation of always getting fortunes right so he couldn't call you a fraud. You would have picked a fight with Scrooge if he weren't so handsome...

One day, when you had made a quite a bit of extra money, you had been lucky to see Scrooge walking past so you called out to him "MR SCROOGE, CARE TO TRY YOUR LUCK WITH LADY FORTUNE?!" Scrooge scoffed but before he had the chance to reject you, you had an idea: "TELL YOU WHAT MR SCROOGE! I MADE A BIT OF EXTRA COIN TODAY SO HOW ABOUT A DEAL: I WILL GIVE YOU ONE GOLD SOVEREIGN... if you let me tell your fortune..." The crowd that formed around you started to gasp and say "ooooh"

Never saying no to money, Scrooge begrudgingly agreed. When you asked for his pocket watch as an object to read, Scrooge refuses. However, Beryl - your ever helpful assistant- managed to nick his watch to hand it to you. You held it in your hands with eyes closed and started to list off what you saw "Hmmm... I see three singing children, usually meaning a new beginning of sorts and major change in your perception of life... looks like you will turn over a new leaf..." this caused the surrounding crowd to start laughing and Scrooge to growl even more. "The first child looks like a young girl holding a candle stick, the second is a jolly looking boy in a green coat and the third child... is hiding in the shadows. Let me know how your fortune treats you, Mr Scrooge..." you said to him as you placed the pocketwatch in his hand. Luckily, everyone was so distracted by the bizarre prediction that nobody noticed your hands lingering in Scrooge's... After an awkward pause, Scrooge ran off, not wanting to endure this embarrassment any longer.

But a funny thing happened the next night, Scrooge was visited by three ghosts... And the following morning, as he rejoiced for the life he had, he realised that you were right about his fortune and decided to pay you a visit...

Promptly, he found you and started to cheer "Ah my dear, there you are! I feel like a new man on this glorious morning!" You laughed seeing Ebenezer so happy like that, "haha I am glad you are pleased with your fortune Mr Scrooge!" "My dear, please call me Ebenezer! And while I have you here, I was wondering if you would be willing to give me another fortune?" He handed you a small pouch containing what you suspected to be quite a sum of money...

Curious to see his future, you sat him down in front of you and asked for his pocket watch. Once again, you held it but saw something very different...

"Alright... I see you in an arm chair infront of a fire place... with three young girls, the oldest only four years and one is a bab- OH THEY HAVE DAISIES IN THEIR HAIR! THEY ARE YOUR DAUGHTERS! Congratulations! And that is a mighty fine wedding ring on your finger!" Beryl, who was stood next to Scrooge, nudged him with a wink before you continued:

"How sweet... OH and there is Mrs Scrooge! I can't see her face though... wait she is about to turn around! Ready to find out who your future wife is? It is-" Suddenly you stop. You opened your eyes to see everyone, most notably Ebenezer, staring at you with expectation. "Well, my dear... do you know who she is?" After finally snapping out of your frozen trance, you hurried to collect your things "NO, I DO NOT! MY APOLOGISES EBENEZER - GOODBYE" You ran off, leaving everyone lost.

Nobody saw you the next day and Ebenezer started to get very concerned. Knowing you and Beryl are close, he asks the sweet street urchin if she knew why you reacted so suddenly. Beryl admitted that while she didn't know for sure, she had a guess as to why you freaked out and agreed to bring you to Ebenezer's home.

Not two hours later, you stepped into Ebenezer's living room where he immediately started to apologise: "My dear, I am extremely apologetic if I made you feel uncomfortable with my fort-" but you cut him off "No, it was not you. I just... knowing my feelings are unrequited, I did not know how I could face you!" "What do you mean, my dear? What fee-" "IT WAS ME! IN YOUR FUTURE! I AM YOUR FUTURE WIFE! And I know you do not return my lo-" Ebenezer cut you off with a very gentle and slow kiss. "My dear... I have always cared for you. Perhaps in ways I was not aware of but I do return your feelings of love. You are my stroke of good fortune... now about our future wedding and children..."

[stat1cdust]

Please give me xreader oneshot ideas for this man im going feral and idk what to write 👁👁

[wilson-the-gay-oncologist]

His Keeper| Male-reader/ Ebenezer Scrooge

pre-spirits, although the reader is kinda a spirit themselves, kinda

Summary: You are Scrooge's 'keeper', although he doesn't want you around feeling you'll break his heart, and you prove to be someone who'll stick around a little longer.

Title: His Keeper

Rated: E for everyone

"You are not my keeper," Scrooge grumbles, and you laugh, "And who said?" Scrooge wants you to go away, to leave him be, he was known as the most hated man in town, well you were just the casual kind farmer, "Go away L/N," you wipe snow from your robes and roll your eyes. "Why should I?" you ask, he glares at you and opens the door to his home, Prudence sits down as if protesting to leave you outside.

"Come, Prudence," he mutters eyes glancing away from you, he was so cute when he was mad. "Yeah, I'll be okay!" You kneel and pet the dog, Prudence yaps and pads off into the house.

You sigh and wipe off the white dust as you walk off, he slams the door. Casual Ebenezer, you laugh softly.

---------Day after

"I'm here with the bread!" you shout entering and secretly hiding 30 pounds (Money) in Bob's hand, you whisper "get your family something nice", your size blocking Scrooge's sight of the generous act, you knew as long as he didn't see it, he couldn't complain about it.

He rolls his eyes and you smirk, "so what are ya doing," you ask him, and he crosses his arms, "Nothing," you sigh and smirk, "Mind if I come to dinner then?" Bob sneaks out of the shop. Scrooge notices and raises an eyebrow. "Your letti-" You grab Scrooge and laugh loudly twirling him about. You bring him outside and everyone turns.

"What's going on?" asked a passerby, "Y/N and Scrooge?" Scrooge groans in exasperation. You lean into his face with your own and give a gentle peck on his lips. "I love you," you whisper, he scowls but then whines "Why out here?" he asks. "To let everyone see you can love Ebenezer." You kiss him and everyone gasps, Scrooge turns red with embarrassment. "I hate you, L/N," he shouts then you cup his face, your warm hands over the soft fur-like hair, and kiss him again "I love you too," he wraps his arms over your neck and enters it, soon your gasping for breath while he cuddles into your chest.

(Sorry it's late)

[crowwritesthings]

Enchanted Earth

Enchanted Earth is an xReader inspired by @the-house-of-auditore-frye 's Scrooge X FortuneTeller!reader headcanons. It is a current work in progress that I'm posting to hold myself accountable.

A drabble from this chapter: The scratching of quill on paper filled the silence. After a moment he flipped the paper over to you. You took a second to review it. The terms of your borrowing twenty five pounds, the interest rates, and the projected timeline for paying back your debt. Once you were satisfied you signed your name at the bottom. Mr. Scrooge followed suit and for a brief moment it felt as if you had signed your life away.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Scrooge is confused as to why their joint funds are slightly off but he doesn't even suspect his lover 😭

Meanwhile his lover is far more generous that he is, giving his employer a nice christmas bonus, helping others with their debts, and he just thinks he's made mistakes, just zero suspicion toward his lover

He only sees this when the ghost of christmasts presents shows him

And while he's mad and a bit irritated at first he can't help but fall in love with them a little bit more because how on earth did he get that lucky to have found someone like you?

how did he deserve someone like you?

[papibite]

On a scrooge binge so here’s some more ideas (if someone wants to use these then be my guest I just wanna share ideas with someone 😩)

• Could you imagine what would happen if scrooge hired a maid/butler who was once a hitman but retired that old life to have a more simple one? Like, you would imagine the miser having so many enemies and some trying to off the man, but the scrooge is so unaware because his maid/butler always ensures his safety? Goodness what if they get caught by scrooge as they are beating up a group of men who planned to jump the man?

• What if the reader helps Jenkins (I believe was the toy store owner) with sales and both try to find ways to bring customers in. Then reader asks scrooge for help and they have him dress up as Father Christmas and entertain the children? Even the grown ups are amused watching the man put a voice and act in a red suit and beard just to help.

• Omg if scrooge and the reader are asked separately by Bob and his wife to babysit and both are surprised to be there that night, and the children are trying to bring them together but also want attention so the two have to work together to make sure things are going well until the kids are all asleep and they both pass out as the couple returns??

Spicy-

• (After the events of the movie) What if the reader tells scrooge that although they welcome his change and are happy that he’s happy, they somewhat miss how powerful he was. The power hungry, grumpy, and demanding person he was being very… attractive to say the least. Scrooge takes it as a challenge to try and use this knowledge in the bedroom while still checking in with the reader to make sure they’re ok.

• What if the reader is someone who pays everything on time and even helps the other individuals who are behind with some occasional payments, leaving scrooge to tell them to not meddle in the affairs of others? The tension and hatred between the two of them is obvious but the final straw is when the butcher owes scrooge double and the reader, who was conveniently helping the butcher out with work, swoops in and pays enough to help? Scrooge asks to speak with them later as to discuss this little, “game” they are playing.

More ideas later, this is all I can type rn

[oothepinksquidoo]

Great uncle Ebenezer .★. Scrooge x reader one-shot

Dayum, I'm on a roll with these chapters Huh? Go me ig LMFAO again with is a oneshot for my book (check it out if you like, it's on Ao3 or wattpad, whatever you prefer!)

Summary: You get an unexpected letter from a special friend, the news of a child being born comes as a thrill to you! Greater panic for Ebenezer

I guess a little angsty warning? Ngl it's mainly fluff

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

It was a new day in London, the snow was slowly decreasing very slowly, yet any time it did more would come the very next day. I couldn't complain though, the wintery weather always gave London a special feeling to it, something I couldn't explain even if I tried. 

It was early in the morning, I was in the Bakery with Ebenezer. He decided to tag along for the opening while also helping me make space for the new tables and chairs that Ebenezer had bought for the shop. He really was a sweetheart, anything I could possibly imagine he tried his best to get that very thing to me. 

Some mail fell through the letterbox, I walked over and grabbed it, expecting the usual work things and a few orders. I was sorting the letters into piles when one caught my attention, “Huh?”

Ebenezer looked over after he finished moving a table into place, “What is it, darling?”

“It’s a letter from Harry.” I replied opening it, “He usually comes in to order, he never places an order by mail.” I gasped once I read the letter, “Oh my days!”

Dear Y/n,

I hope you are well, I apologise I haven't visited in a while, I do miss you even if it's only week a week or so. But I do have a good reason! 

Hela and I have finally had the little extension to our family, our original two has finally become three. The baby came a little earlier than we expected but she is doing extremely well! I hope you come by to see our daughter, 

P.s, if you do come by, could you bring some of your delicious crumble you make? I’ll pay for it of course haha!

Your dearest Friend, Harry

I read the letter outloud for Ebenezer to hear, he stood there in complete shock. He frowned slightly, “Hela was pregnant?”

“Uh, yes? She has been for the last… eight and a half months?” I joked, “To be fair, she was incredible at hiding it. But isn't it wonderful? You're a great uncle now!”

Ebenezer looked at me blankly, “Yes, quite. I uh… Is Hela alright? She has no… health problems?”

My face dropped when I finally caught onto why Ebenezer was not as excited as me, “Ebenezer, I assure you Hela is perfectly healthy.” I cupped Ebenezer’s face, “Look at me, dear.” I spoke softly, it took a second but eventually he did listen, “I understand your fear, believe me I do. Hela is in safe hands, and if anything were to go wrong, we can get the best healthcare in London.”

“Yes.” Ebenezer replied, “You're quite right, as usual. I just can't help but fear the worst. Not only did I lose a sister that day, that very boy lost his mother. I couldn't imagine the agony of losing the love of his life too.”

I gave him a comforting hug, “You know, I have a feeling Harry may feel the same way too.”

“He most likely is…” Ebenezer sighed, “I must go see him. Are you coming too?”

I nodded, “I would never give up an opportunity to go see my bestest friends! I think I have some spare crumble in the back…” I hummed in thought.

Ebenezer looked down at the letters that sat on the table as I rushed to the kitchen, “Are you not going to open any of the rest?” he shouted so I could hear him.

“I’ll open them later, we have more important stuff to tend to!” I replied, walking back to the front with a tin of crumble.

“Why on earth do you just have a tin of crumble in the back already?” Ebenezer asked as he grabbed a basket for me to place the tin in.

“Harry practically always orders it every week, apple crumble is his go to.” I explained as I linked arms with Ebenezer.

We both walked out of the shop, talking Eagerly about the news of the new baby. It was most thrilling to think about! Though I still could see that Ebenzer was worried, with every step closer to Harry’s house I could feel his grip on my arm getting tighter. I comfortingly rubbed his arm as we got to his house.

“It’ll be okay, Ebenezer.” I comfortingly spoke, Ebenezer nodded, hesitantly knocking on the door.

Not long after, the door opened, it was Harry. He grinned widely, pulling me into a hug before evening speaking. “Y/n, I’m so glad you could come.”

“I wouldn't miss seeing the little one for the world.” I replied, giving him a little squeeze before pulling away, I looked up at Ebnezer who was extremely quiet. “I think your Uncle is a little anxious, is Hela alright, Harry?” 

“She’s doing just fine, perfectly actually! There were no complications at all.” Harry replied, he put out his hand for Ebenezer to shake, “I’m so glad you're here uncle, I was going to come round to the shop to tell you the news first, but I thought I should be here with Hela.” 

 Unexpectedly, Ebenezer pulled him into a hug, sighing deeply when he heard the news. “I’m so proud of you and Hela, my boy.” Ebenezer admitted, “I promise I’ll always be here if you need me, I won't be the fool I have been the previous years.”

The biggest smile I had ever seen on Harry shone brightly on Harry’s face. I could see a few tears in his eyes as he welcomed us into his house, “Please, do make yourself at home, I think I hear Hela in the living room.”

We both walked in and straight to the living room. It was lit warmly by the fireplace. Hela looked up at us, and there was the new baby, in her arms asleep soundly. She cautiously walked over to us, “I’m so glad you two could come.” 

“May I introduce you to, Elizabeth Jen Huffam.” Harry said with a proud smile on his face.

Hela handed the baby over to me, I smiled warmly, gently rocking the infant, “She’s beautiful Hela, she looks just like you two.” I looked up at Ebenezer, “Doesn't she just?”

Ebenezer looked down at the baby with tears in his eyes, “She does, and she looks like your mother, when she was a baby.” He wiped the tear that fell down his face.

“Would you like to have a hold, my love?” I asked, I could see he was slightly nervous at doing such a thing, “Why don't you sit on the Sofa, I’ll hand her over to you.”

Ebenezer nodded, sitting on the Sofa so he could hold his little niece. “She is truly wonderful.” He seemed paralyzed by his happiness, gazing at the infant with such care. Elizabeth opened her eyes, Ebenezer smiled even more when he realised that they too were the same colour of his little sister’s and his in fact.

“Why don't we go make some tea.” Hela said to me as she walked over the room, leaving Ebenzer and Harry with Elizabeth,

I followed Hela with a smile, “That child is going to be spoiled rotten you know.”

“I can tell already,” She laughed, “I can see it in his eyes.” She placed some cups on the counter while I got the water to boil. “And Harry too had the same look when he first saw her.”

“So, how has Harry been?” I asked, “I assume he was also worried about you, with his mother and all.”

“I've never seen him so scared before, the past week and a half he’s hardly let me do anything that meant I had to move out of either the bedroom or living room,” She chuckled, thinking about her husband, “He is an incredible man.” She spoke as she placed some tea bags in cups. 

“I know.” I replied as I poured the water into the cups, “And He will be an incredible father.”

“Have you thought about children yet with Ebenezer?” Hela asked as she finished making the tea.

“We have actually, well sort of. I mentioned a bit ago, he is incredible with the Cratchit children.” I replied, “Though, I think that will come with time. He may be a changed man, but I don't think he’s quite ready.” 

“I quite agree.” Hela nodded, carrying some of the cups, I carried the rest as we walked back to the sitting room, “But I know, when you two are ready, you’ll make great parents.” 

We walked in the room, placing the cups down. Ebenezer was still holding little Elizabeth, well, it appeared as though Elizabeth was holding him. Her hand was tightly gripping his finger, smiling happily.

“I think Elizabeth quite likes her Uncle,” Harry laughed, taking a drink of the tea. “My, this is gorgeous thank you, dears.” 

My eyes were still on Ebenezer, who was totally focused on Elizabeth. The more I looked at her, the more I could see Jen, and I believe that is precisely why Ebenezer was so fixated on her. 

After a while, we all walked out of the sitting room. Harry wanted to show off his designing skills with the baby room, Meanwhile Ebenezer stayed back, still with Elizabeth, her beautiful blue eyes gazing up at her uncle.

Ebenezer stood up, walking over to the portrait, “My dear Jen, I may not have been there for your own son as he grew up, but I promise I will never make that same, selfish mistake twice. And... I’ll do everything possible to have her grow up without the constant battle of illness.” He looked down at the child in his arms, “I’ll do everything I possibly can to make sure you are happy.”

Ebenezer didn't know this, But I stood at the doorway the whole time, my eyes were filled with tears as I watched him. I already knew he was going to be the best dad he possibly could be, but this moment just confirmed it. I knew we weren't at all ready for that stage in life, but when that day does arrive, I’ll be the happiest woman to walk the streets of London. 

[quill-pen]

Ebenezer with drunk Bess?

Mmmmaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyybeeeeeeeeeee?🤷🏻‍♀️

[nessihow]

Tenseness 2. First Day. [Ebenezer Scrooge x Reader]

The streets of London in December were impossible to walk through in a reasonable amount of time. Arabella knew that, and she knew she should have left home with more time to spare, but one thing led to another, and she ended up spending more time than necessary at her vanity. Now she was five minutes late, but her hair was perfectly styled. When she finally spotted the office of her temporary employer, her sense of urgency was replaced by nervousness. He was going to kill her for being late.

Arabella knocked several times on the door handle. Even though she had opted for a fairly thick skirt that day, she could feel the cold wind seeping through the seams of her clothing. Her tight corset had made it difficult to walk quickly and breathe at the same time, so not only did she feel sweaty, but she was also fatigued.

"SEVEN minutes late on your first day of work," Ebenezer said, opening the door haughtily, his lips pursed in anger. He hated tardiness and wouldn’t allow any of his employees to arrive at such hours. However, despite the warning words with which he threatened Arabella, she did have a certain privilege for being Marley’s daughter.

Scrooge had spent the night reflecting on why he had agreed to let her cover for Cratchit. He couldn’t help but remember all night the sensation of Arabella's body hugging his, and he couldn’t help but want to relive it. He thought about her beautiful hair and her lovely lips, about how her cheeks creased when she smiled and her eyes seemed to squint. These were details he had noticed ever since the girl had become a woman. It was hard to admit, something that stuck in his throat if he tried to swallow it, something that deeply embarrassed him. That night, he tossed and turned under the sheets, unable to sleep.

When he left his house in the morning, he could only lie to himself and try to conclude that letting her work wasn’t about keeping her close, but about respecting her father’s memory.

"I'm sorry, sir, I... My maid forgot to wake me at the proper time, and I had to hurry," a little white lie wouldn’t hurt her boss. The woman wasn’t about to tell him about her grooming habits.

"The work is on the desk," he said, letting her step inside the office. He was angry at her for being late, but he didn’t want her freezing in the cold snow. "I need you to start organizing the loan contracts by year and alphabetically; I need to improve the organization." The young woman stepped into the room, somewhat bewildered by the sheer number of papers piled on a single table. She wouldn’t have imagined that so many folders could be stacked with balance.

"Why do I feel like Cratchit doesn’t do this?" murmured the brunette, reluctant to believe that the redhead earned his pay by sorting files. Still, she sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair and tried to make herself comfortable.

"Because he doesn’t, but that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?" he smiled sarcastically, his grin resembling that of a cat, causing a certain unease in Arabella’s stomach. Well, it wasn’t unease, but she couldn’t describe the warmth she felt in her chest every time he smiled and mocked others. He was rude, ill-mannered, and sharp-tongued, but the rumble of his cruel laughter in his throat sounded so masculine, so manly, that the young woman closed her eyes tightly, trying to focus.

"I don’t want you bothering me all afternoon; this will keep you busy for quite some time. Do not come into my office for any reason. Understood?"

"Of course, Mr. Scrooge," she replied with an innocent smile, watching the man quickly avert his gaze from her and retreat into his den.

...

Ebenezer had used "quite some time" as an understatement. When he placed that stack of papers on the table, he thought Arabella would quit and go home. However, she had lasted several hours longer than he had estimated. For his part, he was terribly behind on his own tasks. He couldn’t stop ruminating on the conflict brewing within him, which had kept him from sleeping well. Everything was working against him, making it hard to do a decent job.

Even he didn’t know what he wanted from Arabella. It was hard to admit that he enjoyed her company. Ebenezer Scrooge didn’t enjoy anyone’s company, quite the opposite. It was a miracle that he wanted to share space and existence with someone of his own volition.

He tried to hide it, and to hide it, he needed to push her away. That’s why he had left the house that day intending to make her life miserable, hoping she would quit helping Cratchit with his work. That way, he could save her full wages and rid himself of the growing longing for that woman.

His anger grew noticeably when Arabella didn’t show up at seven o’clock sharp. Deep down, he felt his disappointment wasn’t caused by her tardiness but by the fear that she might not show up at all.

"Sir, I’ve already..." Arabella entered the office after politely knocking. She wore a satisfied smile and clasped her hands together in anticipation, only hoping that Scrooge would recognize the good work she had done.

"Didn’t I tell you not to bother me?! Are you deaf or simply disobedient?" The silver-haired man was forced out of his thoughts by the woman’s presence. He looked at her and felt ashamed. He had been thinking about her all afternoon, and now he couldn’t even look her in the face. What a calamity.

"Excuse me, Mr. Scrooge. If you’d let me finish, you’d know that I’ve already completed the task you assigned me," the young woman crossed her arms with a frown, indignant at the older man’s behavior. Any other employee would have held back the biting retort she gave him, but she felt bold enough to bite back. After all, even she had realized the game Ebenezer was trying to play.

"Only a few hours have passed; I’ll have to see it with my own eyes," he exclaimed, rising pompously from his chair and striding toward the bookshelf. Prudence growled from her bed as she watched him, and the brown-eyed woman shared a knowing glance with her.

"Tell me, Mr. Scrooge, are you blind or just picky?" Arabella risked whispering those words in a near-clandestine tone. She stood just behind him, at a short distance, as he reviewed the spines of the documents, verifying that everything was indeed in order. Then he turned to speak with arrogance.

"I’m not picky; I’m a perfectionist. I like precision, excellence, and punctuality, unlike some others," Ebenezer was willing to play along, determined to show her that despite everything, he was still in charge.

"Who would’ve guessed... Look how crooked your tie is," she said, referring to his necktie, which was at her eye level and within reach of her hands. Scrooge shuddered noticeably at the feel of her hands on his chest. They were so delicate, a touch so different from his own, so unlike what he was used to. He felt the hair on his neck stand on end, the gray strands bristling. He froze for a few seconds that felt like hours. Had he not lost the ability to react, he would have immediately pushed her away. But for some reason, he waited until she finished adjusting the knot as if it were an obligation.

She stuck out her tongue in concentration, and that was when Scrooge cleared his throat, nervous and yearning for fresh air.

"Enough!" he suddenly pulled away, averting his gaze and fleeing from the younger woman. "I want you to transcribe all the payment letters that have arrived this month so we have a copy of each in case the original gets lost or destroyed," he ordered in a harsh tone.

It seemed the boring task of sorting documents hadn’t been enough to wear down Arabella’s determination, as she responded to orders with defiant smiles. Scrooge glanced at her out of the corner of his eye again, almost thinking aloud.

Does she want to work? Well, good for her. She’ll find out what work really means.