#ebenezer scrooge fluff

[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. 

[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. 

[miubow]

Part 3

I should draw more bed head Scrooge

[quill-pen]

Meet the Scrooges ~pt. 1~ A Sims 4 Scroogeverse fic

Set in the Sims 4 au by @rom-e-o. The first half of the little fic I've been working on bit by bit. Was originally supposed to be one thing, but it felt right to have one half mainly focused on meeting Starla and the other focusing mainly on Bess meeting and befriending Constance.

Rated T for some language and innuendo.

No warnings, just heaps and gobs and mounds of fluff.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Bess groaned as they approached the tall brick house. Her stomach continuously rolled up into her throat and down again to her toes at a sickening pace as the building loomed closer and closer. It was a beautiful looking house, Victorian era, remodeled and refurbished tastefully to allow for modern functionality while keeping the beautiful, classic, and timeless charm. It was just Bess' style. She would have adored it and been so excited to enter if it weren't for the reason they were entering it: To meet Ebenezar's family.

It was insane how she had never met them before, after having been in her Wolf's life for several years now, and especially since Wolf and his twin brother were so close, being the only real family they'd had for decades. But it was one of those freak things where situation and inconvenience had popped up after situation and inconvenience after situation and inconvenience until you hadn't met people for four to five years. Shit was chaotic. But now, approaching their second anniversary, Wolf was finally taking Bess to meet her in-laws.

They'd been invited to stay the weekend, which Bess thought was incredibly generous and maybe a bit crazy considering Ebenezer and Constance had just had twins not long ago. Not to mention they had a nearly-three-year-old daughter in the house. (This was why they'd opted to leave Bess' siblings with Granny FeFe for the weekend. After all, they'd only be a few minutes drive away should they be needed.) All in all, this would either be a blast or a disaster--no inbetween.

Wolf chuckled warmly from the driver's seat. "You're going to be fine, Dearest," he soothed her. "Take deep breaths. Slowly."

Bess tried, but the breathing seemed to settle nothing. "This was a bad idea," she lamented. "This was such a bad idea--staying the weekend. We should've just kept the kids with us and gone to the beach with everyone else. Why the hell did we think this was a good idea?!" Bess hid her face in her hands as she shook it.

"Because it is a good idea," Wolf assured her, voice soft but firm. "I haven't seen my brother or Connie for years or even met my first niece. It's high time we spend some family time--it's past due."

He glanced Bess' way, eyes softening with sympathy as he watched her rock nervously back and forth in an attempt to soothe herself. The silver-haired man reached over and gently grabbed one of her hands, pulling it away from her face and weaving their fingers together to squeeze comfortingly. "Hey," he murmured quietly. "It's going to be all right, Bess. I promise. Sammy and Connie have been dying to meet you since I first mentioned you. In fact, I'd say it's safe to say they already love you just from what I've told them about you."

Bess looked pitifully at him. "You'd be biased in whatever you said though," she meekly pointed out with a tremor in her voice. "They only know your version of me, Wolfy, not me me--the real, uncensored, un-rosy-colored version. Wh-what if... what if they don't like that version?" She clutched his hand more tightly in her anxiousness.

Wolf brought their hands to his mouth and sweetly kissed her knuckles even as he kept driving. "Sweetest Moondust," he purred into her skin, "beautiful wife and magnificent She-Wolf, my version of you is the real, uncensored version, no matter how you're unable to see it yet. But even if it weren't exactly, why would they not like you?"

"Maybe because I'm almost thirty years younger than you?"

"Your age--and consequently our age gap--has never once been anything more than a bullet point of fact for anyone, Bess, I assure you. All the jokes the others have made over the years have been good natured and affectionate: My brother and Connie will be no different. You're a grown, intelligent, mature woman perfectly capable of making your own informed decisions--no one has ever questioned that for a moment."

"Okay, then if not that, how 'bout the fact I stole you away from your family and business and kept you tied up in the shit with my demonic whack-job of a mother for years so you couldn't come back home? You missed the births of your nieces and nephew because of me. You should have been here, Wolf, not halfway across the world being a shield for me against my incubator from hell."

They were pulling up to the manor now, pulling into the driveway and parking.

Wolf finally looked fully at her. "You never stole me away, Darling," he assured her softly, drawing her worried gaze with his gentle one. "I went with you willingly; practically forced myself into the situation, remember? The past two-and-a-half years I've been exactly where I needed and was meant to be--right by your side. You needed me, and I wouldn't have changed that for anything, nor do I have any regrets for it. Sammy and Constance are in complete agreement with me as to it all and have been since I told them I was leaving with you. They begrudge you nothing, I promise you--I would have set them straight otherwise."

Bess couldn't help but smile a little. "I know you would have," she cooed, kissing his bicep and leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "But, in my experience, even when people are set straight... it doesn't seem to take." She couldn't help the glumness in her tone as she remembered the hell of her youth and growing up. She wanted nothing more than to never go back into any such situations ever again.

The silver-haired man bowed his head and kissed her coal-black curls. "Well, it's a good thing we don't have to worry about it then, hm?"

Bess lifted her head to come nose-to-nose with him and meet his eyes again. She didn't look or feel anymore reassured. "If you say so."

Wolf smirked and hummed, eyes flicking down to her mouth and back. Then, without warning, he surged in and captured her soft, perfectly painted lips with his. Let her try to be anxious with that!

Bess squeaked in surprise but then quickly melted into the contact, letting her eyes drift closed as she shifted closer to him, untangling her hand from his to hold his cheek while the other reached out and gripped his vest to pull them closer. Every thought and emotion she felt that didn't involve him and her love for him washed out of her soul like it had been taken out with the tide. What she wouldn't have given to just stay with him like this; his smooth, warm lips caressing hers, his teeth sinking into her pillowy bottom lip ever so gently now and again, his tongue hot and skilled as it slipped alongside her own, tasting like the peppermint he'd sucked on during the drive, his fresh cedar apple cologne and cinnamon citrus aftershave filling her nostrils and tickling her olfactory senses so delightfully. The fact that this glorious god of a man was hers--and willingly--still boggled her mind.

After a moment, and after Wolf had slipped a hand up her panty-hoed thigh beneath her powder blue skirt to grope her hip, they pulled apart, panting a bit for air. "For the record," Wolf husked as he gazed cross-eyed into her starry eyes, "you're always rosy-colored. And it's gorgeous."

Bess' insides tickled with butterfly flutters. She pulled her lip between her teeth and ducked her face from view into her husband's shoulder, tittering giddily like a crushing thirteen-year-old. A blush reddened her cheeks.

Wolf chuckled affectionately, squeezing her thigh and nuzzling her closer. "Properly married for over a year, and still so bashful whenever I compliment and kiss you," he gently taunted. He peppered her crown with more kisses.

Bess, shyly peeked up from behind her thick curtain of hair. "You make... everything feel new," she murmured. "Like a first. Every time. Whenever I think I can't love you any deeper or harder, you go and look at me like I'm the center of the world or hold my hand or... kiss me like you just did... and I somehow fall even more in love with you." She chuckled and bumped her brow to his, closing her eyes as she nuzzled into his warmth. "How do you manage to do that?"

The man leaned into her touch and nuzzled back. "Perhaps because I love you so bloody damn much, every time I look at you, I think I can't possibly love you more than in that moment, but then the next time I look at you comes... and then I can't possibly love you more than in that moment. Or the next, or the next." Wolf kissed his wife's brow, then tipped her head back to meet her starry eyes again. "I have a sneaking suspicion my entire life is just going to be a perpetual free fall into a deeper and deeper love for you, Mrs. Scrooge."

Bess' heart skipped beats as the butterflies in her belly tickled a grin onto her face and tears into her eyes. "Oh, Wolfy." Without thinking she dove back in for another slow, simmering kiss which she was most eagerly obliged with. "I love you so, so much," she whispered against his soft lips.

"And I love you," her man returned. "And so will your brother- and sister-in-law. Now come on." He pecked a barely-there kiss to her lips again and pulled back to switch the engine of the Royce off. He winked at her. "Let's go meet your family, yeah?"

Luggage retrieved from the trunk of the car and in hand, the couple trekked toward the front door. Each step caused Bess' anxiety to mount higher and higher, and when she finally laid eyes on the door, it took everything in her to not drop her bags, turn tail, and gallop away. Again her mind was screaming about what a bad idea this was. A voice that sounded just like her mother was echoing in her head: They'll hate you. Nobody likes you anyway, but they'll hate you for what you've done and keeping Ebenezar away. They'll think you're manipulative and controlling and only want him for the money. If they care about him at all, they'll try to take Ebenezar away from you--you don't deserve him. You're not good enough for him--you're not good enough for this life--and they know it. They'll see right through you and see just how unremarkable, common, and disappointing you really are.

A gentle, warm pressure wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her focus away from the voice in her head. Bess looked down to see her shoulder encased in her hubby's large hand, then looked up into his face again. She realized she must have stopped walking when he'd kept going because he was turned towards her, like he'd realized she was no longer following him and had come back to collect her.

Wolf smiled in gentle reassurance as he held her gaze. "You all right?" he crooned. His large, strong fingers tenderly squeezed.

"H-How should I act?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere; not even Bess understood why she'd asked it. That hadn't been any of the thoughts running through her mind.

Her man lightly cocked an eyebrow in confusion before sighing with an adoring smile as he shook his head. Letting her shoulder go, he brought his hand to her face, tucking hair behind an ear before cupping her cheek. "Like you," came the sincere answer. "You should only ever act like you, Moonflower." He leaned back down to give her another soft kiss to once again help settle her nerves. (It truly was a remedy he never tired of dispensing.) With that, Wolf curled his arm around her back and gently led her on.

They'd only just reached the bottom of the steps when the large, dark wood door with the impressive knocker suddenly opened and an older, short little woman dressed in a maid's uniform with glasses and a broom stepped out to bar their way. Stamping the broom down on the top step and leaning against it, she perched a hand on her hip. "Well, well, what have we here?" she drawled, sounding vaguely Eastern European. A sly smile quirked up her lips and her eyes sparkled in good natured mischief. "Do my aging eyes deceive me, or has the prodigal finally returned?"

Wolf laughed warmly. "I can promise you it's not your eyes, Magda," he declared. He let go of Bess and opened his arm out to the woman. "I'm home."

Magda's smirk blossomed into a beaming grin and she leaned the broom against the brick and came down the steps to embrace the man. "Oh, Ben," she chuckled warmly. "My Benny Boy."

Bess couldn't help but smirk at that. "Benny Boy"? Wolf hated when people called him 'Benny' and 'Benny Boy'--she surmised--would have been no less different and probably worse. Magda must have been someone quite special: She seemed about Wolf's age, maybe a little older--sixties at the oldest. Perhaps a doting, older sister-figure? The idea warmed the Yank's racing heart.

Magda embraced Wolf for a long moment, patting and rubbing his back affectionately and even rocking him a bit. "Oh, we all missed you, Love," she told the man. "Everyone. Of course, we all knew why you had to stay away so long, and we managed, but it wasn't the same."

Wolf chuckled and rubbed Magda's back comfortingly in turn. "I missed all of you, too," he assured the woman. "But I'm back now. And I don't plan on leaving again for a good long while."

"Good. We need you here." The woman passed her hands over Wolf's sides and then paused, pressing her palms against his ribs. "My!" she exclaimed, pulling back from the Englishman with wide eyes. She felt along his sides, flanks, shoulders and chest, and finally his middle. "I see you didn't suffer from hunger while you were away," she claimed, smiling in amusement. "You've put on as much weight as Ebenezer has! Wonderful! You walking skeletons certainly needed some extra pounds."

Wolf rolled his slate-blue eyes. "Don't exaggerate, Magda," he groaned playfully.

"Me? Exaggerate? Never!"

Wolf snorted out a laugh.

"I hope you didn't become addicted to all that ghastly, American fast-food while you were there," Magda only half-joked.

"Honestly, rarely touched the stuff." Wolf looked away from Magda over to Bess with a soft smile. "Bess saw to that. She fed me well--took spectacular care of me."

Bess blushed and couldn't help but return his smile. "Well, you took wonderful care of me first," she insisted. "How could I not return the favor?"

"Aaahhhh," Magda cut in again. She was turned to completely direct her attention upon the American, a little smile on her lips. "So this is the famous Bess." She looked the young woman over, smiling warmer and larger with every sweep of her eyes.

Bess shrunk back a bit, painfully aware the spotlight was now upon her. "U-Um... yeah, th-that'd be me. I-I-I don't know about "famous" though."

Magda shook her head as her smile continued to widen. "You're famous in this household, Dove," she informed the Yank. "And, one could argue, famous throughout the live music scene of London and on YouTube as well, Ms. Moonrock, sought after lounge performer and 65.5K subs strong--whatever that means, but according to the children it's quite good. I must say famous for good reason as well--you are pretty as a rose and cute as the dickens!"

Bess flushed red hot all the way down beneath her collar at that, her freckles popping from beneath her minimal makeup with the blush. She shifted on her purple peep-toe shoes a bit, fluctuating between feeling both morbidly embarrassed and genuinely chuffed over such compliments. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to hearing such words so frequently directed her way that weren't in the form of YouTube comments or from drunken galloots at a hotel bar. Smiling the tiniest bit, the woman turned and ducked her head to shyly hide her face a bit behind her dark hair. "Thank-Thank you."

Chuckling warmly, Wolf began introductions: "Darling, I'd like you to meet our maid--well, Sammy and Connie's maid anyway--Magda Vandergeissan." The man clasped the little woman's sturdy shoulder and smiled impishly down at her. "She runs this house with an iron fist."

Magda playfully scowled at him and smacked his hand away. "Oh, you--hush! Not an iron fist. ... A fist of hard-packed earth. Wrapped in velvet."

Wolf laughed. Then he turned to Bess again and stepped toward her, brushing her hair back and taking up her hand to bring to his lips again. "Magda, this is Bess Scrooge." He smiled at the dark-haired woman, eyes soft as a lamb's, and held her hand over his heart. "My wonderful, beautiful, remarkable wife--the woman who has made me the happiest and luckiest man on Earth." His voice was tender, dripping with adoration and devotion.

Bess couldn't help but smile back as that familiar warmth flooded through her. She always felt like the most amazing woman in the world when he looked at her like that. She wasn't, of course, but she could easily believe it for a minute or two when in the lovelight of those gorgeous eyes. "Oh, stop it," she giggled in the way girls who are deeply in love do.

"All right, all right," Magda said, stepping in between the pair. "You lovebirds can make goo-goo eyes at each other later. Right now, I'd like to get to know the lovely lady. You can only learn so much from YouTube videos and hotel Yelp reviews." Without even looking, the maid took Bess' bag from Bess' hand and pushed the handle into Wolf's. Then she took Bess' make-up travel kit and stuck it under his arm. "You can handle the luggage, can't you, Ben?" It was an order phrased as a question. Before Magda could get an answer, she wrapped an arm around Bess' and turned all of her attention to the young woman. She smiled in a motherly fashion. "Come along, Dovey, let's go inside and you can tell me all about yourself." She began to lead Bess inside. "Would you like some tea? I've made fresh biscuits to go with it."

"U-uh, yes. That-that would be just fine, Mrs. Vand-"

"Oh, please, Sweetheart, call me 'Magda'--I insist. After all, we're practically family. Might I say, that is an absolutely lovely sweater. Lavender is an excellent color for you. And don't you look darling in that skirt? Constance isn't the only one in the family with style anymore. She'll be happy for that."

"Oh, um... thank you, Magda." Bess craned her head back to give her husband a nervous look but he just grinned and winked as he followed with the bags.

"I'm afraid you just missed the family by about five minutes," Magda informed them. "They took the little ones on a walk for some sunshine. They should be back in a half hour or so. Ben, why don't you take the bags up to your room? I've turned down the bed and have everything ready for the pair of you to stay in your old room this weekend."

Wolf nodded, then sent a careful gaze his wife's way. "Are you going to be all right for a moment or two?" he asked. His voice was full of sincerity and understanding, not a bit patronizing. Bess' anxiety was never something to be taken lightly for him, especially not since it had begun to flare drastically again during the whole debacle with her mother. They were working on getting it under control again, and the medication and coping exercises were definitely helping--even just being back home with family and friends seemed to be helping a great deal; it would be a good while, though, before Bess was back to the stability she'd had before her mother had reared her ugly head again.

Bess offered a small smile in turn as she managed a nod. "I think so," she answered quietly. "If not, I'll call and-"

"I'll come running," her husband finished for her with an assuring nod. He stepped forward and bowed down to give her a yet another short but still languid kiss. After which, he took the time to touch his brow to hers and hold her gaze. "I'll be back in just a minute." With that, he went up one of the split staircases and disappeared into the floors above.

Bess watched after him, a dopey smile that never seemed to fail to come out whenever he kissed her--no matter how chastely--lingering on her face. "Love you," she dreamily called after him. She would never grow tired of saying that.

Magda watched on with a sly, knowing smirk, hands perched on her hips. If that wasn't the look of a woman smitten to the very core of her soul for her man, she didn't know what was. "Well, well, well," the maid drawled, drawing the raven-haired woman's attention. "I've been in the presence of the two of you for less than five minutes, but I think it's safe to say you're as thick as thieves."

Bess couldn't help the bashful, girlish giggle that escaped her as she hid her blushing face in her hands.

Magda chuckled. "I'll take that as a sign he's treating you as he should."

Bess smiled in a completely lovesick way at the maid, hands on her blushing cheeks, her chest feeling as though it were about to explode with happiness. A year and a half as an established couple, and she still felt as though she were in the beginning stages of fresh love. Would it always be like this? She couldn't imagine that it wouldn't be, not with her marvelous Wolf. "Like a queen," she practically swooned. "I want for nothing with him. He's the most amazing and marvelous man!"

Magda knew that well. And the fact that Bess could see it too, caused Magda to be overcome with the urge to hug the young woman and join in her happiness. She did just that. The fact Bess readily returned the affection only after a moment's hesitation made the maid even more happy. Ebenezar had most definitely picked a good one. Of course, Magda had known that too from the first time the man had ever spoken of the Yank.

"I can tell just from the way he looks at you, that you treat him just as well," Magda murmured. The maid pulled back a bit to meet Bess' shining eyes and, for the first time, truly noticed the freckles sprinkling Bess' face. Ah, another freckled, blue-eyed beauty. I'm starting to see a pattern here.

"I'm so happy you're here with us now, Bess," Magda murmured, squeezing the girl's arms as she smiled sincerely into her face. "I'm so happy you and Ben have finally found each other. I've hoped and prayed for a long time for both of the boys to find their special someones--people who will love and cherish them as they deserve to be, partners who will help them bear the burden of the world instead of letting them become crushed by it. Ebenezer has found that special someone in Constance, and, though I've only just met you, from everything I've heard from Ben over the years and just from what I've seen already in the last few minutes, I can tell he's found that special someone in you. And I couldn't be more grateful or happier."

"I just want to make him feel as happy and loved as I can," Bess stated, gushing a bit as she gripped the maid back. "I want to build a life with him, from the ground up. I want to face every challenge and hardship with him and celebrate every triumph and good time with him. I want to give him a home and everything else he's ever needed and wanted. I want to help him see the man that I see when I look at him--a good man, kind and strong and brave and generous and chivalrous. Oh, I just want to love him, Magda! I do love him with all my heart and soul, and thank the heavens for him every day. I just want to love him for all eternity in any and every way that I can."

Tears shone in Magda's eyes by the end of that diatribe, her chin trembling ever so slightly. "If you knew how long I've waited for someone to say those things about my Benny Boy..." she trailed off into a quiet sob, a happy tear descending her cheek. Once again, she embraced the American, hugging her tight and close as she patted her back. She thought her heart would burst when Bess hugged her back just as tightly. "Welcome to the family, Bess. We've waited much too long for you to come home."

"Took me a long time to find it," Bess croaked back. "But now that I'm here, I'm not ever leaving--I promise."

When Wolf came back, from the third floor, he was drawn by the sound of laughter into the sitting room where he was greeted by the sight of Magda and Bess seated at the tea table. Both women held cups of tea as a tray of chocolate chip biscuits sat between them, and neither of them seemed to notice his entrance as they were both laughing much too hard. The man couldn't help but chuckle as well, thrilled that his wife and mother-figure were getting on so well already. "Well, now," he called out as he crossed the room, "this is a sight." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bess' crown, stroking a warm hand down her back. "And you were afraid she'd slam the door in your face," he teased at a whisper into her ear.

Bess giggled sheepishly and blushed. Yes, she'd been overthinking and worrying needlessly. Again. Perhaps one day she'd learn to not do that.

"Now," Wolf sighed, leaning down to chomp a bite out of the half-eaten biscuit in his love's hand before standing up and looking between both women, "what are we laughing at?" He pulled out a chair and shifted it a bit closer to Bess before sitting down and slipping an arm around her shoulders.

Bess smirked at him as she arched an eyebrow in mischief. "You and your folded skivvies and ironed socks." She snickered when her man shot her a slightly unamused glare as his cheeks pinked up just a bit.

Magda chuckled. "Oh, Ben, dear, in many ways you've changed, but in so many others you've stayed the same," she crooned, reaching over to fondly pat the businessman's knee. "Thank the Lord you found this lovely little Yankee who's willing to put up with and cater to your... idiosyncrasies. Many women wouldn't without being paid."

Wolf became a bit defensive at that insinuation, however playful it was. "Bess doesn't have to...! I-I don't force her to...! If she didn't want...!" he tried to explain himself, but he was much too flustered.

Bess and Magda broke into giggles again and Bess leaned in closer to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. "She's just teasing, babe," she cooed. "Feminists everywhere would scream and froth at the mouth but let them: I like folding your boxer briefs and ironing your socks. Besides, it's not like you don't handle my laundry in return." She kissed his flushed cheek.

Magda's eyes widened behind her glasses. "Whhhaaaaat?" she drawled in disbelief. "Ebenezar Charles Scrooge doing laundry?"

Wolf glowered at the maid. "Don't sound so surprised," he grumbled. "I know how to use a washer and dryer. It doesn't take a genius."

"He was a little rusty at first," Bess admitted with a giggle. "I had to remind him about separating things. And I don't think he'd ever heard of fabric softener before." She ignored the groan from her hubby and continued on: "But after that, he caught on quick--within the first few laundry days. And he was always excellent at handwashing--I wouldn't trust my delicates to anyone but him."

"Huuussssshhhhhh!" Wolf hissed, blushing red clear up to the tips of his ears. The last thing he needed Magda to hear about was how he liked to wash Bess' pretty little knickers in the sink to unwind after rough days.

Bess smirked up at him and winked. "And he positively loves folding things now that I got him a folding board," she went on. "You should see him when he uses it--making sure every piece of clothing is laid out perfectly on the board and carefully folding them into perfect little rectangles and squares. He does this little smile and nod at the end of every one as he stacks them into their specific piles. Ugh! It's so cute I could die!"

Magda broke into laughter again at the thought. Knowing the perfectionist her beloved Benny Boy was, the Hungarian could picture that scenario exactly!

"Oh, and can you believe, Magda," Bess went on as she patted her man's chest, "that this darling of a gentleman went out of his way to buy special, scented products to use on my clothes specifically?" The freckled woman smiled in complete adoration up at the silver-haired man.

Though he blushed red hot and avoided eye-contact, Wolf's lips curved into a bashful smile. He didn't believe he'd ever get tired of hearing her call him "darling".

"Oh, did he now?" Magda chortled as she smirked at the blushing fellow. As if it weren't already plain as day Ebenezar Scrooge was a man smitten beyond reason. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, Bess Dear, but I seem to recall some Instagram posts of a certain silver-haired gentleman cooking and baking?"

Bess grinned a mile wide. "You did!"

"Ho, now--wait a second," Wolf quickly injected. "I only mastered the grill--I'm still complete rubbish in the kitchen." He nudged his wife with a significant smirk. "At least, without someone there to guide me. I'm a much better assistant cook."

Bess smiled and nudged him back. "You are an excellent grill-master," she acknowledged. "And you're the best assistant cook. Especially since you volunteer to do all the dishes." She leaned in to peck a chaste kiss on the lips he offered up in a pucker. "Mmmmwah!"

Magda chuckled as she shook her head at the couple. "Laundry, house-cleaning, cooking, baking, washing dishes--I can hardly believe it, but you've actually domesticated him. Well done, Bess. Brava." The maid actually clapped which earned her a small glare from the man in question. She only snickered.

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," Bess countered with a sly side-eye to the older woman. "I'd say he's still plenty wild and rough in many ways." She turned back to and winked at her love. "Can't sand those rough edges away completely. What would I have to hold on to?"

The trio continued their tea time with warm, lively chatter, discussing everything from America to Hungary and everything in between. Magda filled in blanks about what had happened the last few years while the Wolves (Magda explained that's what everyone had taken to calling the pair collectively--Wolf groaned at the information while Bess laughed) had been away. It was as comfortable and cozy as three long-lost friends reuniting; Bess felt silly for ever having worried in the first place. But, of course, this was just Magda. She had yet to meet her in-laws.

Speaking of the devils--it wasn't long until there was a voice that sounded much like Wolf's but couldn't be his ringing through the house: "We're back!"

A familiar, resounding bark echoed right after it, and just a moment or two later, a big, furry, golden brown blur came barrelling through the door of the sitting room. Very nearly crashing into the couple, the blur quickly changed into a whining flurry of tail wags and slobbery kisses complete with a cold, wet, inspecting nose. Wolf and Bess laughed and endured the onslaught of wet affection joyously, wrapping their arms around the beast. "Prudence!" they both cheered. They slipped from their chairs to kneel on the floor to more sufficiently love up the excited mastiff, taking turns hugging her and getting showered with drool and giving the dog back and butt-scratches as she frantically spun around between them to give them ample and equal amounts of affection. Clearly the couple had been missed and she had too.

"Oh, Prudence!" Wolf laughed as he scratched the dog down her back and up her sides. "Good old Prudence!"

Bess held the dog's face between her hands, smushing and ruffling her floppy jowls as she smooched the animal all over her giant head. "Ugh, you big, sweet, wonderful ol' meatball-head!" she giggled, touching her brow to Prudence's. "Oh, we missed you, old girl."

Grinning a mile wide with lolling tongue, Prudence promptly flipped onto her back to offer her belly up for tummy-rubs. She was quickly obliged. The dog started whining in happiness again, her tail drumming the floor and one of her back legs pedaling as just the right spots were found.

"The children are going to be upset they didn't get to see you," Wolf crooned.

"She looks great!" Bess exclaimed, noting the mastiff's healthy body weight and solid musculature. As far as her breed went, Prudence was most definitely a senior dog, as she'd already been 9 years old when Bess had first met Wolf. But you could hardly tell from the way she acted or looked: Apart from a few white hairs around her muzzle and in her brows, Prudence could have easily been mistaken for a dog a quarter her age! It was just further proof for Bess' quiet theory that this dog wasn't really a dog, but a guardian angel in canine disguise.

"Hardly looks a day older than when Marley left her with us," a warm, smooth voice chuckled. The voice was familiar to Bess' ears--almost like her Wolf's--but different enough it could easily be deciphered for someone different. By someone close to him anyway.

The couple turned their attention from the dog to the tall man dressed in comfortable slacks and a casual blue vest over a white button-down and tie. This was Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge, one-half of London's famous (and in some corners, yet, infamous), philanthropic, billionaire-bankers-and-businessmen-brothers team. Also, Bess' brother-in-law.

Wolf's mouth split into a laughing grin as he sprung to his feet and quickly closed the distance between himself and the other grinning man. "Sammy!" he boomed. He clasped his brother's extended arm as the other fellow did the same and the two pulled each other into a great hug, slapping each other on the backs.

Bess couldn't help but stare. She'd known since before she met him that her Wolf was an identical twin--complete with a set of identical names because their father had been that sort of dick--and this wasn't the first time she'd seen Ebenezer--or rather "Adonis" as she had taken to calling him since seeing pictures online. But it was still uncanny to see a man who had her husband's face but who wasn't her husband embracing her husband. The same two-toned, steel and silver hair--though Wolf's was much longer as he'd finally managed to grow it to the "rebellious" length he'd always wanted; the same large, handsome, owlish nose; the same diamond shaped face with the chiseled cheekbones and sharp jaw that could cut glass; the same, wide, intelligent brow; the same slender lips; the same bushy brows; the same endearingly large ears; even the same carefully groomed muttonchops that jackasses liked to make fun of Wolf for ("Hey, Wolverine!" "It's not the Victorian age anymore, buddy!" "Yo, where's the time-machine, pal?"). So far the only real difference Bess could see (apart from the obvious hair) was that Adonis looked a tad taller and lankier while her Wolf was a bit bigger and bulkier in the muscle, body-fat, and framing department. Not a surprise, considering Wolf had just spent the last two years living with her on her old family farm, doing farm and renovation work and eating a mixture of her and her friend Debbie's cooking (finger-licking-good, stick-to-your-ribs, homemade American faire). Identical as they were, this fact made Bess officially decide that she had the more attractive of the twins. (However, she was plenty biased.)

Still laughing, the brothers finally pulled apart, but still held each other by the arm, hands now layered warmly over hands gripping forearms.

"Criminey, it's good to see you, old boy!" Wolf sighed.

"It's good to see you, too," Adonis echoed. "Bloody hell, look at you! You look like those damn rugby players we grew up idolizing! What do the Yanks feed you over there in the States?"

"Big portions and hard work."

"I'll say. Shite, Charlie, if Dad were around to see your hair now." He reached up with both hands and ruffled his twin's hair in an obnoxious and brotherly way.

"Hey!" Wolf barked the laugh as he shoved his brother away. He drew up his fists and got into a mock fighting stance and Adonis did the same. For a second or two, the men pretended to spar, ducking and bobbing around playful punches and then, laughing, they embraced fully again.

Bess couldn't help but smile, her heart swelling with happiness that her beloved was once again back with his best and closest friend. Happy whining and thumping sounds beside her told the woman Prudence was happy with the scenario as well. Bess reached down to scratch the dog's head and ears.

"Where's your better half?" Wolf asked as they parted again.

"Taking Starry to the loo," Adonis answered. "We're finally making progress with potty-training. Oh, that reminds me. Magda?" The man looked in the maid's direction. "Would you mind going to help Connie with the twins? I believe they both are in need of changing."

Always happy to interact with the little ones in any aspect, Magda smiled and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Scrooge." She gave Bess' shoulder a gentle squeeze and a reassuring smile as she left the room.

Bess smiled after her, even as her nerves started to rise a bit. Evidently she'd quickly attached to friendly, warm, motherly Magda as something of a security blanket in this strange household, and her departure left the American feeling a bit insecure again. She shifted a bit closer to Prudence, thankful that the dog also shifted towards her in turn, probably sensing her nerves. Good, old, wonderful Prudie!

"Well, Charlie," Adonis sighed as Magda, left. He let go of his brother and moved around him in Bess' direction, his icy blue eyes (ah--another slight difference) friendly and warm despite their otherwise frigid hue. "It's been about a minute since I came in--are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady, or should I do it myself?"

Wolf chuckled and moved back to stand by Bess, slipping an arm about her waist and tugging her comfortingly into his side. His thumb traced circles on her back to help soothe the anxiousness he had seen come back to her eyes. "Sammy, this is Bess." The man smiled down at his lover as she hooked an arm around his waist for extra reassurance. "The absolute love of my life."

Bess looked up at her husband, meeting his gentle gaze (yes, she definitely preferred that cool, liquid slate-blue), wanting nothing more than to kiss the very breath from him for those beautiful, beautiful words. She loved that phrase in context to her. After years of fearing she'd never find someone who liked her let alone loved her, to be referred to as the quintessential love of someone who was her own quintessential love filled her with so many good vibes she could have exploded. The woman knew she'd never tire of hearing them.

"Well, that's quite the statement," Adonis declared smiling between the smitten pair. "You must be something very special, Lady Ness; my hard-headed, self-sabotaging twin has never said that about any woman ever."

Wolf shot him a glare. "Hard-headed? Self-sabotaging? Pot, meet Kettle."

Prudence softly ruffed in agreement.

Adonis snickered with an impish smirk. Then he stretched out his hand to Bess and clasped her hand warmly when she took it. With a gentlemanly bow, he smiled sincerely up at her. "It's good to finally meet you, Bess," he stated fondly.

"You too, Bess responded, returning the man's smile. She squeezed his hand, happy to feel it was work roughened as well, though not quite to the glorious extent her hubby's were. With her beloved Wolf by her side and the palpable friendliness and openness of her brother-in-law, Bess felt her nerves settling again. "Wolf's told me so much about you."

Adonis sent a look his brother's way. "All good things, I assume," he said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Oh, of course, Brother," Wolf assured him more than a little sardonically. "Only ever good things."

Bess did her best to keep from smiling and laughing as all the funny and embarrassing stories about her brother-in-law her husband had told her came rushing to the forefront. She succeeded only minimally well. It was hard not to laugh at the mental image of a man as imposing as Ebenezer losing it over a creepy-crawly. Deep down she really hoped a spider or beetle would sneak into the house while they were there for the weekend; she wanted to see if Adonis really screamed as loud as Wolf claimed he would.

Adonis gave his brother a hard look. "Uh-huh." After a moment he looked to Bess again and said conversationally: "You know, he pissed the bed until he was thirteen."

Bess laughed incredulously. "What?!"

Prudence too looked up at Wolf with wide, surprised eyes and perked ears as she tilted her head in question.

A beet-red Wolf immediately jumped in. "No I didn't!" he spat angrily, giving his laughing twin a rough shove. "That's a complete exaggeration and taken out of context, and you know it!" The man then desperately turned to his wife with her goofy, amused grin and frantically tried to explain. "The only reason I wet the bed was because I'd snuck out past curfew with a group of older schoolmates and had much more alcohol than was good for me and passed out. They dumped me back in my bed and I never woke up when I needed to and..." he trailed off, painfully embarrassed by the memory.

Bess smiled sympathetically and reached up to hold his angular face in her hands. "Oh, honey," she crooned with a chuckle. "It's okay--it can happen to anybody." She smooched his nose then smirked mischievously at him. "But if you ever do that in our bed, you're on the floor with the dog."

Prudence woofed rather indignantly.

Wolf smirked back just as deviously. "For all of two minutes before you begged me back into it," he rumbled more than a little salaciously as he cocked a smug eyebrow.

Bess flushed hot and gently popped his chin in admonishment. "Ebenezar Charles!" she hissed. "We're among company!" She tried to give her man a stern look but failed as her lips frustratingly twitched into little smirks.

A shudder went through Adonis at the mental images that statement conjured up and he cringed. Imagining his brother having... relations.... "Eeeesh!" he exclaimed. "There's something I never wanted to picture."

As if in agreement, Prudence shook herself and trotted out of the room with a snort. Clearly she had better places to be if the humans were going to start discussing such things. There was a stash of bones somewhere calling her name anyway.

Wolf side-eyed his twin as he pulled his wife flush into him. He always loved the way Bess fit so perfectly against him, her curvaceous, womanly figure melding perfectly into his body; the way his hands so easily found and fit into the small of her back and other dips in her body. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that they had been made for each other--molded to fit one other specifically. "No kidding," he responded drily, shooting a pointed look at the other man. "Say, did you ever get around to finding some sort of cushioning for your headboard? I imagine the wall behind it is looking a bit rough otherwise."

Bess couldn't help but snort at that. She covered her mouth with a hand to try and stop her laughter. Her efforts weren't particularly successful.

Adonis blushed a bit and glowered at his brother. Then he smirked deviously. "No, we didn't," he replied. "As a matter of fact, Constance and I just use your bed now."

Wolf felt the color drain from his face at that statement. Whether it was true or not was a complete crapshoot, because he and his twin were masters of screwing with each other. Even so, just the mere idea that he could possibly be sleeping in a bed his brother might have shagged in, perhaps making love to his own wife in that same bed, was enough to make his skin crawl. "You're a bastard," he rasped out.

Adonis' devilish smirk turned into a somewhat maniacal grin. "Remember, we're twins, Benny Boy."

Bess looked between the brothers in utter amusement. Having four siblings, Bess was used to the ever-fluctuating nature of such relationships, and the contolled, chaotic energy between her husband and brother-in-law was immaculate. This was going to be a hell of a weekend!

"Papa?" a tiny little voice suddenly chirped in to interrupt the conversation. "Papa, Papa, Papa!"

The three adults turned to see a tiny redheaded girl in a yellow shirt, little blue capris, and teeny white shoes come toddling into the sitting room. Arms outstretched for balance, the tot had a big, gap-toothed grin on her cherubic little face, her sparkling blue eyes trained on her father. The toddler sped up into a waddle and, panting as she squeaked excitedly, darted for the tall gentleman. "Papa!"

Adonis' face softened and his grin turned warm with love as he crouched down to meet the toddler. "There's my little sundrop!" he cooed adoringly as he scooped the girl up. He smooched noisy kisses to her chubby cheeks as the little one giggled and squealed while she hugged his neck.

"Papa! That tickleth!"

Bess couldn't help but smile at the sheer adorable, wholesomeness of the situation. There was something about a big man being gentle and sweet with a small child that never failed to make her go mushy inside. And make her useless womb quiver and ache.

The American looked up at her husband again to see him staring at his brother and niece attentively. A slight smile curled his mouth. The light in his eyes was warm and soft and... maybe just a tad longing. It was hardly a secret the man had a desire to be a father, to hear a little voice call him "Papa" and catch a little child as they came running to give him hugs and kisses, too. While he was the adoptive father of Bess' siblings now and loved being their father-figure and adored being called "Uncle Ebby", it just wasn't quite enough. There was a void deep inside him that it just didn't quite fill, as much as he wished it would. He wanted to be a father to a child, from beginning to end. He wanted to experience the good, bad, and everything in between. He was honored his adopted children had hyphenated his name in after that of their own father, but even so, the man wanted a child to carry his name first and alone.

Bess reached up and cupped his sculpted cheek to draw his face back to hers. She smiled reassuringly at him, knowing what was going through his very soul at the moment because it was going through hers too. "Someday," she reminded him softly. "We'll be there someday." She stroked a tender thumb along his cheekbone and pressed her other hand to his heart. "I promise."

Wolf responded with the softest of smitten smiles he'd given her since their first morning waking up naked in each other's arms. He bowed to touch his brow to her, his stubbornly-stray lock of hair tickling both their cheeks. "How is it you always seem to know exactly what I'm thinking?" he purred, gazing into her eyes.

Bess smirked as she curled both arms back around his neck and pulled him closer. "I could ask you the same thing," she giggled.

Wolf rumbled a soft chuckle and angled his head to bring their mouths together once more. He kissed her chastely but soundly, reveling in the belovedly familiar scent of her blueberry perfume. He would forever associate blueberries with this glorious woman for the rest of his days.

"New fwiendth?" the little girl chirruped again.

The couple parted lips and turned their attention back to the father and daughter, both of whom were now gazing at them, the father much more wryly than the little girl. She gawked at them in wide-eyed excitement and fascination.

"Yes, Sweetheart," her papa answered gently. "New and very good friends." He returned his gaze to his child and smiled at her absolute enchantment with the two new adults. The man gently bounced her in his arms. "Do you remember them?" he cooed. "Hmm? You've seen their pictures and watched them on YouTube. Mama and I have talked to you about them."

The babe gasped and squealed with delighted laughter as she clapped her little hands. "Annie Bweth!" she giggled. "Unky Woofy!"

Bess couldn't help the laughter that escaped her. "Unky Woofy," she snickered to her husband. "That's definitely becoming a new pet name."

Wolf gave her the side-eye. "Don't you dare," he warned her but he smirked as he said it.

Bess only winked. She made no guarantees.

Chuckling, Adonis knelt down and placed his little girl on the floor again. The girl's feet were already peddling before she touched ground; when she finally did, she took off at a run. Or as much of a run as a waddle could reach. "Go make friends," he urged, though the child was already speeding to do just that. He smiled in adoring pride as he stood again. "Charlie, Bess, allow me to introduce you to your niece, Starla."

Unable to help herself, Bess pulled out of her hubby's arms and quickly moved towards the oncoming child, arms outstretched and hands itching to pick up the tot and snuggle her close. She loved children in general, and this stage was positively adorable (if not insanely chaotic), when they really started to come into their own as little people with little personalities and attitudes. "Oh my goodness!" the America cooed as she swooped Starla up into her arms. "Hi, Sweetheart."

Starla's gap-toothed grin beamed wide and radiant as the sun. She giggled excitedly as she reached out towards Bess, stubby little fingers wiggling and grasping for something to touch and hold on to. "Annie Bweth!" she squeaked. When Bess leaned in and pulled her a bit closer, the tot grabbed a chunk of coal-black waves and tangled it between her fingers. Her cornflower eyes widened in awe. "Ooohhh, tho pwetty," Starla quietly marveled. Then she beamed even brighter up at her auntie again. "You pwetty, Annie Bweth!"

Chuckling, Bess settled her niece on her hip and snuggled her. "Not as pretty as you, Little Sunbeam," she crooned. The woman stroked a finger down the owlish bridge of the little ginger's nose and playfully booped the tip, her heart melting at the peals of laughter that followed. Starla may have been her mother's spitting image overall, but she certainly had her father's nose. "My gosh, look at you! If you aren't the cutest little angel I ever did see. And you've gotten so big! Golly, it seems like just yesterday Wolf and I were looking at pictures of you all red and squishy."

"She's certainly turned into quite a little armful," Wolf remarked turning to his brother with a genuine smile.

"And much too fast," Adonis agreed with bittersweet sorrow. "I swear just last week she was falling asleep during tummy-time--now it takes everything Connie and I have to keep up with her.

"I remember watching your first steps," Bess told the little girl. "I do." She poked Starla's tummy and was rewarded with more happy, ticklish squeals. Could this little tyke possibly get any cuter?!

"I remember it, too," Wolf remarked moving behind his wife and putting his hands on her shoulders as he fawned over her smittenness with their niece. ("They're niece"--that sounded so wonderful!) He remembered how happy and excited he'd been for his twin that day, finally starting a family (a deep-seated desire they'd both had and forgotten until recent years) and being able to raise and watch it grow. He also remembered walking in on Bess that evening, drinking wine, watching the video, and sobbing about how she'd taken him away from his family and was a horrible person for it. He'd fallen asleep beside her that night, holding her close as he comforted and reassured her. It was the first time they'd slept together--in the literal sense of the phrase--and, while it wasn't exactly the most positive of memories in context, it was one the Englishman would cherish forever.

Starla's eyes suddenly snapped from Bess' face over to the tall gentleman gazing down at her from over her Auntie's shoulder. Her grin grew even brighter and she reached towards him. "Unky Woofy!"

Chuckling, Wolf moved around Bess and held out his hands to take the little girl from his wife. "Hello, Starla," he crooned as he settled her against his chest. "My goodness, you are quite the big girl!" He pretended to stumble and struggle to hold his niece, causing the tot to squeal and shriek with giggles. The man chuckled warmly and patted the girl's back.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Sweetheart," he said as he smiled at his niece.

Starla beamed back at him. "Nithe to meet you too, Unky Woofy!" she chirped. Then she reached up and took her uncle's chin between her pudgy hands and began to look him over carefully. After a moment, she turned to her father and waved him over. "Papa." When her father came over she reached out and placed a hand on his cheek as she kept one on her uncle's face. The little girl spent several long moments looking back and forth between the two men, her little fingers gently playing with the tickly hairs of their muttonchops. Her grin grew bigger and bigger as fascination and wonder sparkled through her baby blues.

Bess couldn't help but grin at the sweet moment. She also marveled at her niece's comprehensive observation skills for no older than she was. Of course, that shouldn't have been a surprise, considering who her parents were.

"Papa!" Starla gasped after a while. "Unky Woofy wookth duth wike you with wong, pwetty haew!" She clapped her hands in delight.

Both men chuckled. "That's right, baby girl," Adonis praised her. "Do you know why Uncle Wolfy and I look alike?"

Starla shook her head.

"We're identical twins," Wolf stated, watching his niece's adorable little face scrunch up a bit as she tried to process that.

"'Winth? Wike Thewwy an' Wobbie?"

"Sort of," Adonis answered. "Sherry and Robbie aren't identical, but Uncle Wolfy and I are identical. Identical means that we look alike and sound alike and we're both boys."

Starla looked between the men again for a minute. "Doth that mean you my papa too, Unky Woofy?" she asked as innocently as can be.

Wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head. "No, only your papa is your papa," he assured the girl. "I'm just your uncle." He smiled gently at her, a doting look in his slate eyes as he added. "But I still love you very, very much," he purred. "And you're very, very special to me."

Starla smiled sweetly and leaned forward in her uncle's arms to wrap her own stumpy ones around his neck. "Wuv you too, Unky Woofy," she said as she gazed into his face. "Mwah!" She puckered her little lips and pecked them to the pointed tip of the man's large nose in an adorable kiss.

Chuckling again, Wolf cradled the back of Starla's little, red head in his large palm and pulled her in close to hug. He softly kissed her cheek as the babe nuzzled into his neck. Blinking back the watery sting in his eyes, the former miserly recluse let out a shaky sigh as an ache deep inside his heart evaporated away. He'd needed this. He hadn't known just how much he'd needed this.

Her phone already out as she'd been snapping pictures throughout the encounter, Bess quickly collected a few more of the exchange, struggling to not melt into mush on the spot at the fluffiness of it all. Her chest was so full of warmth, she felt like exploding into butterflies and rainbows. This was just about the sweetest, cutest thing she'd ever seen! Finally, her beloved was back where he belonged--with his family. The Silver Wolf had found his pack again.

When she heard the telltale, trembling sigh, Bess slipped her phone away and moved to her husband. Pulling out a hankie she'd taken to carrying around ever since meeting her Wolf (undoubtedly a habit she'd picked up from him), she reached up and gently dabbed a stray tear off his nose. When the man opened his eyes to look at her, she smiled in gentle reassurance and understanding. The next thing she knew, her man was reaching out and curving an arm around her to pull her into the cuddle as well. Bess didn't object and melted into him, wrapping one arm around his waist and reaching up with the other to pat Starla's back.

Starla pulled away from Wolf's neck and looked Bess' way, grinning like the sun when she saw who was there "Annie Bweth!" She practically threw herself at the woman even as her uncle kept a hold on her, and hugged her auntie's face, snuffling into her soft, sweet-smelling curls. "I wuv you too, Annie Bweth!"

Bess laughed, her voice breaking a bit as her own eyes welled up with tears. She did her best to hug the child back in their awkward, somewhat tangled position. "Aw, I love you too, Sweetpea!" She looked up at her husband through a cage of toddler arms, joy and hope sparkling in her watery eyes to replace the anxiety that had once dwelt there. Her brother-in-law liked her! Her niece loved her!

His own eyes still shimmering with tears, Wolf smiled back at his wife and nodded. He hugged her closer and bowed his head to hers. He planted a kiss in her hair. "Welcome to the family, Auntie Bess," he purred into her ear. "I told you they'd love you."

@rom-e-o @ray-painter @crimson-phantom-designs @m0nsterwife @christmasgaybusinessmen @thedivinelights @purgratoriat @themostanonymousscribbler @oldmanlusting @the-house-of-auditore-frye

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓞𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼 | 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓰𝓮 (2022)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘸𝘰 | 𝘕𝘰 𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘜𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥

Summary: Our dear Ms. Blackwood finds herself in the office. She has a favor to ask of the old miser, Ebenezer Scrooge: have Christmas luncheon with her and her daughter.

Author's Note: Hi all,

Whew, two updates in a week! Since my semester has started off quite slow, I have been able to indulge my creative side a little more than usual. I couldn't help but write for this storyline and, as a result, have a 3000+ word chapter for you all!

I am also very grateful to announce that two of my very lovely, very academically proficient friends have offered to beta read the chapters for me. As a result, some minor changes have been made to Chp 1 (already published at this time). They do not alter any major plot points but are there to enhance the flow and immersion.

Word Count: 3288

Ao3 - Mature Rating

WARNINGS: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS PERIOD-TYPICAL SEXISM AND RIDICULE OF SINGLE-MOTHERHOOD.

The word whore is used once or twice to describe reader and her current situation.

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

“I’ll say, Ms. Blackwood, this is certainly no way to run an establishment!” 

From some room in the very back, Scrooge hears a clattering sound and the rushing of footsteps. The creaking of the door is accompanied by a small murmur of pain. Well worn hands brace themselves against the doorframe and gentle eyes meet stern ones. In her eyes there is a hint of fear and he knows then that she will ask for another extension. 

‘Will I give it?’ He wonders.  

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You brace yourself against the doorframe, heaving deeply from how quickly Mr. Scrooge’s voice had sent you scrambling and knocking over several miscellaneous items. One moment you were in the stock room arranging the fabric racks and tar-coal dyes, the next you were waking to the impatient call from your lender. Now he stands there across the room, in his fine pants and vest, more handsome in the firelight than frightful. It’s almost enough to knock the wind from you. Almost. His cruel, icy gaze squashes the feeling as quickly as it comes. 

You smooth out your dress to distract yourself, suddenly ashamed not to be wearing a crinoline or gloves. Gently raising a hand, you adjust any hair that may have come undone from pin and braid. “Sir, my sincerest apologies! I must not have heard the bell chime whilst arranging my stock.”

“Yes, well,” The miser began, walking further into the room and stopping at the till counter. His eyes scan your form, a look of distaste briefly crossing his features. “I am sure you have your excuses well thought out. Now, if I suspect correctly, you know why I have come to call on you.”

The cold hand of dread grasps your heart and it feels as though a rock has lodged itself in your throat. One hand rises to fiddle with the buttons of your opposing sleeve, tracing the thread that loops delicately through them. Yes, you had been expecting him to come. He was here to collect, as he always was. Mr. Scrooge never made social calls, being only about business and business alone. 

“W-why yes, sir.” You slowly stepped up to the counter, standing as close to the man as you dared. “I am 15 pounds overdue.”

“No, madam.” He grins cruelly, greed settling into his face. “You are overdue 15 pounds and we must add onto that this month's payments. The final payments. You understand then, that I am owed 23 pounds. ”

“But sir—“ 

He cuts you off by tapping his ledger against the wood. “Ah, I presume you are without the means to pay once more?” 

There is a dark twinkle in his eyes now. It’s not greed, but something else, something darker. He enjoys this. 

“I only have 10 pounds, sir. I— I am happy to pay it, but the rest I cannot provide you.” You swallow harshly, trying your best to keep eye contact. A dark flush of embarrassment has worked its way up your neck, to your cheeks, and your ears.

“What excuse have you this time, Ms. Blackwood? Hmm? Mother fell ill, did she ?” The miser keeps his voice even, but the words are cold and mocking.

“No, Mr. Scrooge,” You start, trying to keep your voice from wavering. Eventually, you can no longer uphold eye contact and instead find great interest in the till counter. 

“No?” He leans forward on his cane, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to catch your gaze. There is a moment of silence as you attempt to dignify him with a response. It clearly wears on his patience. 

“No, I suppose not.” He speaks harshly then, adding as much bite to his tone as appropriate.

Something within you cracks at being so boldly disrespected in public address; it did not matter that he was the only other person there, it would have been a shameful moment in the company of others. At the same time, however, it also strengthens a resolve in you. ‘ Mother fell ill’ , the words echo in your head. No, your mother had abandoned you long ago. That wouldn’t stop you from being a good mother, from protecting the welfare of your child this time around. Just as the man before you scoffs and attempts to open his ledger, you catch his gaze.

Ebenezer Scrooge is allowed only a moment of surprise, agog at the fire in your eyes, before you begin speaking. “No indeed, sir. As you well know, I am unwed, sir. I am left now with debts that are not my own, which I must repay, and a trade-skill that the textiles are rendering mute! No indeed, sir!”

“Why I—“ He begins, but you do not allow him to finish. 

“I am a seamstress, Mr. Scrooge! I work tirelessly for meager sums, laughable sums. These garments are all I have , sir. This is my only method of income. How, then, would you suggest I manage? I must pay for my health, for my meals, for the fabrics, and yet I am expected to give it all to you? You!? ” You take a deep breath, now red from your rising anger. “And what of my daughter, Mr. Scrooge, what of her? What should I do with her, hmm? Shall I leave her in a workhouse? Shall I turn her to the streets with the pauper boys, so that she may sell papers for all her days? So that she may make her own sums? She has just made her eighth year here, Mr. Scrooge!” 

For once, Ebenezer is stunned into silence. All malice has been wiped from his features and instead has been replaced with utter shock. His eyebrows, so arched and eyes so wide, would have been funny if the situation were not so dire. You had openly admitted to your lender that you had borne a child out of wedlock, thus divulging your family’s greatest scandal, and placing yourself in the path of ridicule. 

You swallow harshly, watching his expression turn from surprise to confusion, to horror. When you next speak the words are so quiet that the crackle of the fire almost swallows them, “I thought I would have already lost her, sir. To her early— early winters or… or consumption.”

Ebenezer snaps his ledger shut and stares at you like you’ve just grown another head. He revels in silent horror for a moment, like a perfectly stupefied statue. He opens his mouth and closes it several times over; a true fish out of water. You stare at one another for a long while. The man’s face grows redder by the second.

Eventually, he finds his words. They are soft, stuttering, and without any of its previous authority, “Y-yes. V-very well, Ms. Blackwood.”

“Pardon?” Surprise colors the word.

A soft clearing of his throat, “I said very well. You have until Boxing Day. Two extra days. ”

“Y—“ You clear your throat in return. “Boxing Day, sir?”

“That is what I said, is it not?” He opens his ledger again, places it on the counter facing you, and allows you to retrieve your own pen. 

You dip the tip into your inkwell and lift it back up to sign the page but his large, gloved hand catches your wrist. The touch is surprisingly gentle. Tired eyes meet cunning ones, and suddenly his old demeanor rears its head. The angry furrow of his brow, the deep seated frown, and his rigid posture return. He looks down at the page, at the name above the blank space under the pen, and sighs deeply. 50 pound — Jenkins. 

“There is a condition,” He adds. “I cannot afford the responsibilities of your personal welfare, nor may I show any form of favoritism among my clientele. As you may be aware, there is much burden in this life. Much of this burden falls upon me, as a contractor and lender, you see. So, I will do something for you; I will give you two extra days but you must come up with a new sum. Let us say… double? No, for a third extension let’s say— triple? Discount the ten pounds you are able to pay…”

You balk, stunned by his lack of compassion. Never had Ebenezer Scrooge seemed so unredeemable, so unfeeling, as he did now. You cry out, despair mingling with outrage. “59 pounds! Why, Mr. Scrooge, that is cruel!”

“You are right,” He nods once and pretends to contemplate the thought. “I should ask you for a round number. Much nicer, neater, don’t you agree?”

He lets go of your wrist and rests his hands on the ebony cane. He leans back slightly, puffs up, and watches you expectantly. “60 pounds. Yes, that’s a good round number. I should have asked it of Jenkins, really, but this will do.”

The pen trembles all the way from the inkwell to the page. You almost let it slip from your fingers, shaking violently and trying to suppress tears. The water behind your eyelids gathers quickly, blurs your view of the page, and makes it hard to sign for the transaction. Once the pen is tucked away again and the ink begins to dry, he holds out his palm. You reach for the till, unlock it, and grasp at the mishmash of gold sovereigns and shillings you’d earned the past weeks. You attempt to find a bag for it, still holding back tears, but he turns his palm to face you. 

“On the counter, please, Ms. Blackwood. I would like to count and authenticate it here.” He checks his pocket watch while you sort the coins into piles. 

“There, sir.” You step back, allowing the miser to lose himself in his monetary endeavor. Before you know it, your body decides that a quick lap about the room would do some good for your constitution. You begin to make your rounds for closing hour, decidedly done with people for the evening. The night would only get chillier and your daughter was like to be out with the urchins, busking the evening away. Not even the chime of the bell above the door distracts you when Ebenezer finishes his catalog and removes himself from the premise without so much as an evening farewell. You only notice the silence and rampant tears against your skin when your nightly tasks are complete. 

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“But I’m owed fifteen,” Bob Cratchit glances down at his hand and thumbs the small pile of shillings. 

“Consider the other five your payment to me .” Scrooge sighs and sits back in his chair to look at his employee.

“For what, sir?”

“The ink you so carelessly spilled this evening, of course,” Another sigh. “And the day off you insist on taking tomorrow.” 

“Well,” Cratchit swallows, unsure of himself. “It is Christmas, sir.”

“Yes,” Ebenezer looks away and glares at the door to his office from which his nephew had disappeared. “As everyone is so fond of telling me.”

Bob fiddles with his top hat, scrunching the edge. “Sir, this isn’t enough.”

The graying gentleman turns his glare from the door to his employee. He makes a noncommittal hum at the back of his throat and waits as the redhead continues, “My family, you see, my children– My boy, in fact– my boy needs medicine.”

Now standing behind his desk, the miser looks at the man before him as though seeing him for the first time. One hand slowly puts away his daily ledger as he begins to speak, “You have children? Yes… Of course you do.”

One well-pressed jacket arm winds across the redhead’s shoulder as employer meets employee. “Cratchit,” The tone is pure velvet and malice. “Times are hard. And my financial burdens are considerable.”

He guides the man around, turns him toward the door, and gives his best smile. “Now, should I add to them by paying for the upkeep of your entire family? Does that sound fair to you?”

Neither man notice the crackling whisper, nor the tendrils of ice that crawl across one Jacob Marley’s portrait. ‘ Scrooge….’

“No, sir.” Cratchit’s voice comes out pitifully muted. 

“No, sir, indeed,” A small smile. “You’re the second person who’s pleaded such a case today. Must be the season. Now, let’s get you on your way, shall we?”

The two men step from the office into the main workroom of Marley & Scrooge, Private Bankers and Moneylenders. The aforementioned owner is about to herd the man closer to the door, to his jacket on the rack, when it swings open. A hefty basket swings through the opening first, followed by gloved hands, and a very familiar shawl. The shopkeeper of Louwermon’s bustles through Ebenezer’s door.

“Oh, Ms. Blackwood!” Bob Cratchit chirps happily from beside his employer, moving forward to take the basket from her.   Scrooge, on the other hand, cannot suppress the surprise that overtakes his face, nor the subsequent look of annoyance.

“Bob Cratchit!” You smile widely, genuinely. Ebenezer notes its beauty instantly; the way the edges of your mouth curl up, the way your lips pull back to reveal stunning teeth. It sets his cheeks aflame for a brief, shuddering moment. 

You break his reverence, “Just the man– men , I had hoped to catch!”

“Oh?” The moneylender cuts in. “To what do we owe this… pleasure?”

You ignore the snark in his words, instead greeting him properly with a delicate bow before turning back to your friend. “In here,” placing your hand on the basket, “are new clothes for your children. The winter months can be so cruel, so cruel. I have fashioned for Tim a new  coat, so that he may be unaffected while busking.”

Cratchit’s smile is contagious for soon their lady guest is returning it in full. Scrooge watches the exchange with great interest. ‘ Free clothing? For Cratchit’s children?’ The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. ‘ Such a despicable loss of profits.’

“Thank you!” Bob evokes your given name as he shakes your hand. In fact, he repeats it several times over, along with thanks, as you giggle.

The sound is, to Scrooge, like pure joy. It reminds him of his dearest sister, of her laughter and her warmth. And the sound of your name, previously unknown to him, sends an unusual chill up his spine. Their mirth goes uninterrupted, until at last he is forced to interject. Like her, he has had enough of people for one night. With one hand, he guides Cratchit to the door. 

“Good night, Mr. Cratchit, go home. ” 

The redhead complies nearly immediately, having spotted his children across the way. Scrooge watches as Bob takes the stairs two at a time, far more animated than a father his age should be. He doesn’t even bother with the door, assuming his remaining company would follow suit. Several seconds tick by before he realizes you will not be joining his employee. With a deep sigh, he closes the door and turns to face you.

“Very well, Ms. Blackwood. Follow me.” He turns on his heel and beckons you into his office. He sits once more in his chair and crosses his arms authoritatively.

“Mr. Scrooge,” You take a deep breath as if bracing herself. It piques his interest greatly. “Kitty– That is, my daughter, and I would love it if you could join us for Christmas lunch tomorrow. I understand that it is an uncouth ask, perhaps one borne of a selfish desire to reconcile today’s events with you. But she would very much like to meet you.”

Scrooge feels himself recoil before he can even comprehend all that you have said. His lips part into a nervous smile. “What?”

“Christmas luncheon. Oh, do say you’ll come, Mr. Scrooge!” You smile again, that pretty, pretty smile. 

‘If only she knew.’ His hatred for the wretched season ran deeper than the pits to hell. All the joy borne of a time that only showed him great sorrow. 

Not only that, but you were asking him to risk his reputation; as a gentleman, a lender, a banker. To discredit himself now, to be seen with a working woman without escort, with an illegitimate child, would throw away all his years of hard work. “No.”

“No?” you don’t seem shocked, just slightly disappointed. “Oh please sir, it would mean the world to us! I have oft been told that my Christmas lunches are the–”

“I said no, Ms. Blackwood. Does such a word count for nothing in today’s society? Nothing at all?” He feels growled words build up in his throat, feels them leave him, but he doesn’t care. 

“It’s just that my child, sir, has never had a Christmas with others.” 

“I fail to see how that is my problem, madam.” Scrooge stands from his seat. He watches as you take a step back. It pleases him to know he has the ability to elicit such a reaction. 

“It is very hard to keep a child from the world on Christmas, Mr. Scrooge! As you well know, today’s gentry would shun me for keeping her, for having her. I would never do such a thing as leave her, you see, but minding her alone is–”

“And that was product of your own incompetence!” The miser’s voice drips with discontent, even as it raises in volume. He watches you recoil at his loud vocalization but continues. He has had enough.

“How, pray tell, could a woman so fine allow herself to be so defiled? You are young, beautiful! Had you not been so foolish as to conceive, had you waited as any good woman should, as any good wife should, perhaps you would not be in such a position!”

“Sir, do n–” You try to interject, but he glares you into submission.

“No, you have done far too much talking as it is, Ms. Blackwood! So much damage you have inflicted upon my evening that I find it within my right to speak now. It is my turn and I am not quite finished with you.” He rounds the desk, looming over you:

“It is by your doing that you are here. That is, working while a child waits on you. Have you a servant? A governess? No? I thought not! Barely able to stay afloat, barely able to provide, and raising what shall no doubt be an uneducated woman. You are paying debts that need not be yours. Had you not squandered your life like a whore you would not have shamed your family. They would not have thrown you to the dogs, would not have stripped you of heritage or allowance.”

Tears begin to stream down your face. You try to hold them back with a hand to your mouth. He barely registers the broken sobs and is completely oblivious to the sudden chill that has overtaken the room. Something crackles around you both and the wind howls wretchedly outside, but the dam has burst, he will say his piece. Prudence, previously tucked in her bed, has come to your side. She is snarling at him, seemingly following the conversation, but no vocalizations escape her throat and she goes unnoticed. 

“Catherine– That is, Kitty, deserves far better than you will ever be able to offer her. She deserves a governess, a proper mother, and a father to provide her with comfort before her hand is exchanged. At this rate, she will be lucky to have any prospects! And you , Ms. Blackwood , have none. 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 gall to look self satisfied.

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

[chelleinyy]

I desperately need a fanfiction where after Isabel leaves, Scrooge finds the ring she left behind.

Oh and also, I need a fanfiction where Isabel comforts Scrooge after his sister's death. In Isabel's perspective ofc.

[iwritefandomimagines]

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: decorating luke’s for christmas reminds you how far from festive jess is. but it might also lead to confessions that put him much more in the christmas spirit.

warnings: little swearing. fluff !!!

author’s note: shoutout to i’ll be home for christmas in this imagine is because it’s my all time fave xmas film and i had a HUGE crush on jonathan taylor thomas as a child because of it. it’s also not super long but i made sure it’s not too short… anyway ENJOY! <3

“Y’know, I don’t see why you have to be such a Grinch,” you pulled the candy cane from between your lips as Jess scoffed, “All Luke asked was for us to put up a few decorations. Even he has more fucking Christmas spirit than you!”

Jess rolled his eyes, “Oh sure, because I’m usually so enthusiastic about stuff like this. How out of character of me,” he paused to touch his forehead with the back of his hand, “I must be getting ill.”

You tutted, placing the last of your candy cane back into your mouth with a crunch! and folding your arms across your chest.

He quirked his brow, waiting for a snarky response that never came.

Instead, you turned on your heels and headed over to the stereo, flicking the switch and resuming the Christmas CD you’d been listening to before he’d grumpily trundled down the stairs into the diner.

“Oh God,” Jess groaned, “Do you seriously enjoy torturing me?”

You scoffed, “Do you want the honest answer?”

It was at that moment Luke briefly poked his head round the corner, “What are you two bickering about now?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as Jess did the exact same thing, except with a huge wad of tinsel now attached to his sweater.

He waved his arm around frantically as you burst out laughing at his desperate attempt to rid himself of the sparkly red decoration, “For fu—,”

“Ask Ebenezer Scrooge over here,” you teased, freeing Jess of the tinsel by yanking it away as Luke rolled his eyes, “Just help her out, Jess.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being a moron.”

“Fork found in kitchen,” you mumbled, earning a glare from Jess, “We’re nearly done, c’mon.”

Jess fought back a smirk, folding his arms again and shaking his head, “You’re a pain in the ass, Y/N.”

“At least I’m a festive pain in the ass,” you sing-songed, twirling tinsel around the cash register as he laughed at you, “Hey, I can see a smile there! He can smile! What a heartthrob. I could almost mistake you for Jonathan Taylor Thomas in I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”

“I look like who from what?” Jess contorted his face in confusion, unsure whether what you were saying was a compliment.

Kirk appeared out of nowhere beside you both, an inquisitive expression on his face, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas from the 1998 Christmas movie I’ll Be Home for Christmas. I have to say I think you’re wrong though, Y/N. He doesn’t have nearly as much of his boyish charm.”

You burst out laughing again, clasping your hand to your mouth as you watched Jess blush just a little as he stood slack-jawed.

“Boyish charm? I’ve got plenty of boyish charm,” Jess scoffed, puffing out his chest, “Why do I look like him anyway?”

“Oh, you don’t,” Kirk shrugged, “Y/N just has a crush on him and a crush on you.”

“Ok that’s quite enough from you Kirk,” It was your turn to blush crimson now as you gestured towards the tables, “We’re not even open yet. You—uh— just go sit down.”

“A crush on me, huh?” Jess was smirking now, and you couldn’t tell if the bubbling in your stomach was sheer embarrassment or excitement at the way he was looking at you.

Obviously, it was both.

You shook your head, “Oh, ‘cause you should totally trust Kirk.”

Jess quirked his eyebrow, “When it comes to town gossip, I’d say I do.”

You looked down at your feet, cheeks still incredibly warm and your heart palpitating so hard you were sure it’d burst out of your chest at any moment.

“You know, you’ve gone bright red. So red in fact that I think it’s put me in a festive mood,” Jess quipped smugly, elbow on the counter as he leaned a little closer to you.

You scoffed, “It took me being embarrassed to feel festive?”

Jess shook his head, and said nothing for a moment.

You wondered whether he was about to embarrass you even further, but his expression softened so much that it confused you.

“No, it took being told that you do like me,” he shrugged, but he was clearly not as nonchalant about it as he was trying to appear, “To save me the embarrassment of a not so festive rejection under the many, many Christmas lights— seriously why do we need so fuckin’ many?”

Your heart swelled at his initial words, but you rolled your eyes yet again at his grumbling about the Christmas lights, “It’s Christmas, Jess. And so pretty.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jess was quieter as he spoke now, his eyes twinkling as he moved even closer to you, “So pretty.”

Now you were certain that every drop of blood had rushed to your cheeks, the intensity of his stare making you bite your lip and look away again.

His hand lifted up to touch your cheek, drawing your eyes back to meet his.

Your mouth had gone dry, and you couldn’t help but notice how carefully he watched your lips as your tongue swiped over them.

“You—I—We need to finish decorating and open up, Jess,” you stammered, but Jess wasn’t letting you get out of this conversation now.

“If it wasn’t for Kirk, I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he looked briefly away and saw that Kirk had seemingly entirely disappeared, “Oh, it might be my lucky day. Now I’m really feeling festive.”

You giggled, “Then what—what’re you waiting for?”

He didn’t waste a moment after that, immediately capturing your lips with his as you leaned into his chest.

The kiss was short lived, but you almost didn’t mind because your mind was racing at the fact that it was actually even happening at all.

Jess beamed across at you as you pulled back, your eyes locked on each other for a fair few moments of silence.

“I’m finally in the Christmas spirit, Y/N,” he sing-songed as he finally broke the silence, still staring intently at you as you shivered under his gaze, “So much so that I think I’d like to go watch the town Christmas lights being switched on tonight. If you’re up for it. If not, like, whatever. Just a suggestion. Since you love Christmas and—,”

You laughed, placing a hand on his bicep to interrupt his rambling, “I’d really like that, Jess. Even if you are going to drive me nuts complaining about the lights, it’d be nice to go. Like, together.”

Jess seemed pleased with that answer, a broad smile overtaking his face as he leaned in even closer, “It’s a date, then. And now we can get back to decorating.”

You bit your lip, “A date. Woah, Jess Mariano is taking me on a date to see the Christmas lights getting switched on. If I didn’t know any better I’d think I was still tucked up in bed dreaming.”

“I’m in your dreams a lot then, huh?” he teased, the smirk back gracing his features as you gently nudged his arm, “My nightmares, maybe.”

“Hm, guess you dream about that John Tyler guy more then,” he feigned offence, and despite mistaking the name you found his pout incredibly adorable.

You laughed, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t be jealous, Mariano,” you hummed, leaning into his side as you teased him.

“I’m not jealous,” he grunted, “What does he even look like anyway?”

You giggled, and he didn’t seem impressed by the way you went straight into your head thinking about the actor, “You’ll find out later when I force you to come back to mine and watch it with me after the lights are on.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he shook his head, and you forced a pout until he sighed, “Fine. Only because I like you. And I’m choosing our takeout if I’m going to be third-wheeling you and the TV on our first date.”

You grinned, “Fine by me. It’s a date!”

“A date? Finally, kid,” Luke reemerged for a moment again, poking his head around the corner of the kitchen.

“He’s taking me to see the Christmas lights being switched on,” you grinned, watching Luke’s brief shocked expression being quickly replaced by a small smile.

“The lights?” he repeated, and you nodded.

“I knew he liked you, I mean the whole town did. But it looks like he must really like you, huh?”

“Yeah,” you basically whispered, looking over at Jess for a moment and seeing him smiling softly at you despite his irritation at his uncle poking his nose in, “I guess he does.”

———

happy festive season guys!

this has been in the drafts for a couple weeks near finished but i’ve finally got it done now <3 might write some more festive imagines so if there are any characters you’d like to see that for then please let me know.

as usual — thanks for reading, here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my stuff!

[nahoney22]

Outcast (part 1/2)

Ebenezer Scrooge X F!Reader

word count: 3.8k

• Gif is mine, please credit if used •

After sitting back and holding your tongue about the way your boss goes about business, one Wintery night left you feeling rather frosty.

warnings: SFW, confrontation, Scrooge is a meany, reader is female and is wearing a dress, employee and boss relationship, mention of debtors, fluff at the end 😚 no use of y/n and not proofread ✍️

A/N sometimes it’s good to stray away from the Star/Clone Wars fandom for a bit and since my new obsession is this film, I couldn’t help myself

Masterlist

Part one | Part two

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Another year, another harsh winter. Maybe even more harsh than the last.

Painful pellets of cold snow blister along your features as you walk to your oh-so-lovely work in the early hours of the morning.

Luckily your hat managed to prevent the snow from blinding you completely so you could make out the outline of the Scrooge and Marley building where you had both the fortunate and unfortunate life of working there. Fortunately, it was a means of work so you were occupied, getting paid for something other than being a housemaid or someone who worked in a sweated industry. Supposedly being a secretary wasn’t all too bad yet the unfortunate side… was your boss. Ebenezer Scrooge.

Speaking of which, he was sitting in his office already upon your arrival. His door was closed and you spotted through the small window that he seemed to be in a heated discussion with whoever was on the other side.

At least you had enough time to hang up your coat and hat, brushing off any snow that dusted your clothing before checking the books. You turn to say a quick hello to Bob but frown to see the friendly faced clerk was nowhere to be seen. That is until the door to Scrooge's office bursts open and Bob appears with his face the same colour as his hair. Red.

“Bob? What is it?” You asked worriedly, watching him walk to the coat stand and wrap his scarf around his neck before slamming his hat on his head.

He inhaled a deep sigh and went to open his mouth but stopped when the sound of floorboards creaking interrupted him.

You both turn your heads, looking to see Scrooge stood there with his head high, chest puffed out and hands behind his back. “Still here Cratchit? I was certain I had told you to go to the factory to collect more ink.”

You blink and a frown crosses your features. “But sir, an order came in just last week? It will take Bob three hours to walk all the way there?” You even went ahead to check the books to see if you were correct but Scrooge had already snatched it out of your grasp before you could even flip the page.

“Yes we did. But Cratchit here has a habit of spilling every drop he can.” He gives you a stern look as you slowly pull your hand back, finding his gaze sometimes hard to look at. Especially when he was in one of his moods which gets a little more testy around this time of year. “And in doing so, he has now sacrificed a week's pay.”

With your eyes widening at the seemingly unfair punishment, you look back at your friend whose chest was heaving. Never had you seen him so angry. There was no kinder spirit than Bob Cratchit; a loving man with a just as loving family. You wish you could say the same about a certain someone.

“Sir, I’ll get ill if I go out there in this weather!” He gestures to the window, the snowfall being heavier than usual and you couldn’t even begin to tell him how slippy the pavements are at this time in the morning. “I need to work for my family, my boy. H-he’s ill.”

Your heart panged with sadness as Bob tried to plead with your boss, eyes watering just slightly.

“Well, if you get sick and you need the week off I will allow it. But then you’ll be sacrificing two weeks worth of pay.” He chuckles almost darkly, a daring look on his face as if to say ‘defy me and reap the consequences’.

The shock at his words made you audibly gasp, causing Scrooge to look at you with a questioning glance but all you can do is scoff and shake your head.

He had been cold towards you both in the past but this was taking the cake significantly.

It was a shame, really. Sometimes you did not even mind your boss and had come across his sensitive side maybe once or twice… or just the once. It was the perception of the townspeople that typically swayed one’s opinion on another and he just so happened to have a negative one. Granted he was not so popular yet was all at the same time. To which was a misfortune since you had spent many a time (although you would have thought it was little until Bob pointed it out one day) that you would find yourself gazing at Scrooge in his office. Simply imagining what it would be like to give him just a touch of tenderness as you caressed a hand over his bristled cheek. After all, he was quite a handsome man.

Then, what may be a foolish idea at first, you head straight into his office, ignoring his protesting and swipe up some shillings from his desk.

“What do you think you’re doing? How dare you steal money from me!” You ignored him, purposely brushing past him with the skirt to your dress following swiftly behind and gesture for Bob to stick his hand out.

As he does, you pour the money into his tattered gloved hand. “This is my week's pay. I would like you to have it.”

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly-.” He goes to protest, ready to give it back but you closed his hand firmly.

“Yes you can. One of us here has a family and it is not me and it is not Ebenezer,” you glance over your shoulder to gauge your boss's reaction, none short of furious, “you need this. I also do not wish for you to go to the factory as we have plenty of ink in stock here. Go home and get warm. We will see you tomorrow.”

After so many months of sitting back and allowing Scrooge to talk down to folk, you had finally lost your resilience and had to do the right thing. Truthfully, you wish you had done something earlier but who were you to interject in your bosses affairs and clients? However this was aboout Bob; a friend.

So many had left this office with their faces as white as snow, tears streaming down their cheeks and silent sobs bursting from their chests when Scrooge had either denied them money or charged more than they owed. It made you wonder, how many people went hungry that night because of the man you worked for.

Surprisingly, the young man did not even bid a farewell to his boss as he left. You watched him leave into the snow and let out a relieved exhale but your small shift of happiness diminished when you felt a cold presence behind you and it wasn’t from the brief chill that had blown in.

“Who do you think you are?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, suppressing your laugh of disgust before you finally turn to face him, chin up. “Is something the matter?” Feigning an innocence.

Scrooge's fists clenched by his sides, eye twitching. “How dare you dismiss my staff. How dare you go into my office without my permission, may I add, and pay your wage to them.”

You shake your head at him. “And how dare you almost dismiss him to his death. Do you realise how sick he could become if he made that unnecessary journey?” You move past him, taking Bob’s place on his small desk, shifting and tidying up his notes.

His jaw was so sharp and tight it could cut through paper and he had the nerve to laugh at your words. “His death? Please, he would have been fine.”

You pause the shuffling of some papers and stare right at him, almost through him. Your gaze was strong, powerful and one that almost made his knees buckle. Have you always appeared so fierce? A fire in the winter storm?

“How can you be so selfish?” Your words were slightly hushed. He couldn’t help but feel his face soften for just a mere moment. You didn’t even sound angry, just disappointed as if there was no chance of change for him. “So cruel? Do you get some kind of satisfaction of wanting to be an outcast all your life?” You continue, the flames of the candle by your left light up your eyes and for a second he wasn’t too sure if it was the reflection of the candle at all.

Your words stung, more than he thought they would have but granted, it was about some time someone was willing to put him in his place. He just didn’t think it would be his quiet secretary.

“That still does not give you the right to send Cratchit home. I need him to work today.” He ignores your harsh yet truth-filled words, fixing his shirt collar and tie as if someone had just had their hands round him and tried to knock sense into him.

“And I shall pick up the slack.” You grab yourself a quill and a small ink pot, making small adjusts to the paperwork.

Scrooge raises a brow and smirks a little. “You’re aware you have given up your wages for this week?”

You could almost hear the smirk on his lips without even looking. Feeling something nudge at your legs, you glance down to see Prudence rubbing uk agaisnt you, asking for pats which you gladly gave. “I am aware. I am also aware that given this disagreement and the mere fact you disagree with me helping my fellow colleague that my stuff will have to be cleared out come the morrow?”

He’s taken aback as you look his way once more. There’s no sign of sorrow on your face at the possibility of you losing your job, in fact it seemed that there was expectance.

A small whine from Prudence catches his attention, her puppy-dog eyes almost pleading him in a sense to let you stay.

Agitated, he runs a hand through his greying hair and stands straight with a small stomp of his foot. “I expect a full report of yesterday’s money-lending antics on my desk by the end of the day. I also expect a new order of five ink well pots to make up for the ones that had been spilt this morning.” Then he turns, and leaves through the archway of his office and closes the door behind him.

A wave of relief washes through you and you share a look with Prudence. “I know girl, I know.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

When six o’clock draws near you almost cheer. Scrooge had not spoken a word to you since that morning which for some peculiar reason made the day appear longer than usual.

Every now and again, you would look up from your spot that is usually accompanied by Bob to glance through the window to Scrooge’s office, both horrified and curious to see him already looking back. Once your eyes had locked, he’d quickly look away and shake his head, mumble soemthing to himself and you curse yourself for not being able to read one’s lips.

You collect the reports as requested and make a stand. Your dress had crumbled a little so you straighten it out and rest your hands on hips to have an idle touch of your corset to make sure it was locked properly in place.

What you didn’t see was your boss stealing a glance your way again, his blood running hot and not because he was still angry from this morning. The second you turn back around and he just knew you were coming into his office he almost frantically tided up his desk the second you knock on the door.

“Come in.” He clears his throat, a quill in his hand as he scribbles a whole load of nonsense onto some parchment as if to look ‘busy’.

When you enter, you head straight to his desk and gently place your work of the day ontop

of a small pile already there and take a step back. “Is there anything else I can do before I leave tonight, sir?”

Obviously aware of your presence, he only now looks up at you. His room was dark already, lit by a few candles but you seemed to glow the most. Your face was neutral, soft to touch. He blinks out of his unwelcoming daze, almost disgusted at himself for finding something or someone nice to look at.

“No, that will be all. I expect you same time tomorrow.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. As you begin to leave, his curiosity got the better of him and stands to his feet and follows after you before you could leave. “W-wait. May I have a moment of your time?”

You were quite surprised how quick he was to catch up to you and even more surprised how he managed to stand in front of the buildings door before you could even reach the handle. Pausing, you give him a quizzing glance and rest your hands together over your stomach. “You may, Sir.”

“What you did today for Cratchit,” he begins, walking over towards the desk you were previously sitting at, finger trailing along the old wood, “what possessed you to do such a thing? It was not your money to give away.”

There was some shock that hit you that he was willing to discuss this morning again. But alas, you give him your answer. “If you were to hand me the money from your own hand it still would have been mine and regardless, I would have given it to him. He needs the money more than I do.”

He’s stunned but still confused. “And you do not need money? Does your husband, partner have a worthy enough income?”

For some reason you found yourself chuckling at his question and he instantly took offence. “What is so funny about that?”

“Forgive me, I am not laughing at the question. I am simply laughing because for all the time you have known me, you should have realised by now there is no ring on my finger.” You hold up your hand and of course, there was no jewel in sight.

To say the least, he was surprised that you were not for accounted for. “You have never been courted? I am… surprised.”

You shift a little, unsure how the topic of you giving Cratchit money was related to you being unmarried but by the look on his face, he genuinely seemed interested. It made you feel…odd. But in a good way. Maybe you telling him off today may have sunken in. And he’s surprised? You don’t know wether or not to blush but your cheeks naturally warm up anyway.

“If you are to put it like that then yes, I am. Unmarried and never been courted.” You sigh.

“Oh.”

You pull your lips into a tight smile and slowly nod. “So seeing as I only have to care for myself and not my husband nor children, I am stable enough to help a family man.”

“And if you are to go hungry?” He quizzes.

You hum in some kind of ironic amusement, tightening your coat around your body as you hear the wind pick up outside. “Then I will be the same with many of the rabble we take money from.”

He scoffed, thinking you were joking for a second but the look on your face said otherwise. “We do not take money. We lend the money to those in debt and catch them out when they can not pay it back. Their burdens are of their own consequences.”

“And so you must ask them for extra? Knowing they can not pay on time?” You don’t look to him as you speak, hoping to not start up another fight as you were about to leave. You were lucky enough to remain working here after this morning. “Again forgive me Sir, but I have been on the receiving end and during Winter, times are exceptionally hard.”

There was a hint of subtle emotion in your voice and you sigh, shaking it off and look over to him to see an unreadable expression. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned downward yet his eyes showed just a little something. Remorse? Guilt? You were unsure. What you were sure of however was that you wanted to get home and curl up in your lonely bed to get away from this cold.

“May I be excused for this evening?”

He closes his eyes, taking in all what you had said but felt conflicted in one’s self. Of course he thought what he was doing was right. People must reap of their consequences but your voice was telling him that one should not suffer because of them. “Yes, very well.”

He steps aside and actually opens the door for you, surprising you at the small gentlemanly notion. “Thank you Sir. Please be careful when walking home, it is rather slippy.” You mention as you step out the door, sliding on your gloves and inhale the crisp and bone-chilling air.

“Goodnight.” Ebenezer quickly adds as you begin to walking down the snow covered steps, pausing to look back his way.

“And to you.”

———

The sound of someone thumping against a wooden door frame was what brought you out of your work, gazing up to see your boss standing in the doorway to his office and looking at you. “Do you have a minute to spare?”

You carefully place your quill back in the ink pot, careful not to drop any spillages on your paperwork before making a stand. He steps into his office, you following and closing the door behind you. “Is everything okay?”

“Quite, yes. I-I’ve been thinking. All last night, I simply could not sleep no matter how hard I tried.” He sounded worrisome and you certainly hoped he had not fallen ill because of the weather. Even if it was a big fat ‘I told you so.’

“Oh Sir,” you walk towards him and hold your chilly hand to his head, completely freezing him and he was certain he didn’t freeze up because of how cold your hands were either, “are you ill?”

“No, ah - I,” he’s stammering awkwardlly, face flushed as you come close to him but gently moves your hand away from his face, “I wanted to express my apologies for how I acted yesterday. I was rude and unkind to my… best workers.”

“…We are your only workers, Sir.” You can’t help but blush and laugh softly. However, you were pleasantly surprised to hear him apologise to you - it was never like him to do so. Gods, did you manage to wear down the Ebenezer Scrooge?

He laughs a little and nods, rubbing the sleeve of his suit on his left arm. “Yes, yes that may be true but I was foolish yesterday. I have you to thank for making me realise how callous I behaved. Therefore, I have a gift for you. And for Cratchit when he returns to work.”

He piques your curiosity, watching as he stuffs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small pouch and gesturing by the small jingle it held, that meant money. “I would like you to have this, as compensation for my behavior but as well as gratitude for your hard work.” He extends out his hand to where you hesitantly take his offering and almost gasp at how heavy it felt.

He could see you weighing it up in your hand and smiled as your eyes brightened. Clearly, so much relief had fallen from your shoulders. But before you can ask, he interjects quickly. “Fifty pounds.”

Your eyes, which were trained on the pouch, snapped up to meet him with your mouth agape. “F-fifty?”

“Yes.” He nods, holding onto each of the lapels to his dress suit, straightening it out as he stands proud. “And not to worry, Bob will receive the same amount.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening nor could you believe what you were about to do.

You step to the side and place the pouch onto his desk for a second and you could see in his eyes that he is about to question why you’re returning it but before he could open his mouth, your hands found the back of his neck as you pulled yourself in for a warm embrace.

Never had Scrooge felt his life freeze before his very eyes until this moment. He stiffens up like a plank of wood, hands extended to the side pathetically as he takes in the feeling of your chest pressed to his own and your chin resting on his right shoulder.

“Sir, I can not thank you enough. You have bestowed me with enough warmth, room and food for the remainder of Winter and upcoming Spring.” Your breath bristles against his neck, a warmth radiating him and ridding him of all the bad even if just for a mere moment. It sent waves of shock through him.

“W-well, that is quite alright.” Again, his hands stayed to the side. To hear you thank him however ignited the start of a small flame on a fire brewing inside him. Seeing how one person can act to such kindness made him wonder if the same could be said for all the others. “I hope it is a significant fund for you.”

You pull away from him yet your hands now rest on either shoulder, a sweet smile on your lips. “Oh Sir, it’s more than I could have ever asked for.”

He’s looking down at you, trying to ignore the odd sensation in his gut at the proximity. It was improper yet, he could not take his eyes away from you. “Please, call me Ebenezer.”

There was no taking back what you were about to do, but with your heart so full knowing you can live securely for the upcoming months with no hassle, you just had to thank him again.

On the tips of your toes you lean up and place a small lingering kiss to his cheek. Perhaps a little too close to the corner of his lips but as his hands immediately fly to your waist, fingers grazing against the boning of your corset underneath your dress you gathered it was welcome.

As you pull away, your eyes glimmered with innocence and you blushed as you see his eyes were closed, breath a little ragged. Once he opened up again to look at you, he’s breathtaken and you know that maybe it was time to step away.

“Thank you Si- Ebenezer,” as you take a small

step back, his hands had stilled at your waist causing you to stop for a moment, raising an amused brow until he clears his throat and finally lets his hands slip away, “my heart is full.”

He’s speechless, truly. Your lips still lingers on his skin, goosebumps trailing up his arms. As he goes to speak, nothing comes out. So instead, he gives you a smile and a nod of courtesy.

Maybe he will do something nice again for you in the future.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

Snowball fight

Pairing: Scrooge x reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Scrooge wind up in a Snowball fight

Word count: 779

Warnings:none just fluff

A/N: as my last fanfiction was a learning curve, I needed a little bit of a simple breather, so here's Snowball fight :)

The harsh air swept away most of the crowd, and (Y/N) was no exception to that rule, as she was waiting for her fiancé outside, and the cold air makes her shiver. She’s minding her own business when she heard a few kids playing. She looked over at them, and they’re throwing snowballs left and right. Including Tiny Tim, who’s doing better than ever after getting his medicine.

(Y/N) is so happy to see them having fun she doesn’t see the snowball heading toward her face. When it lands the kids gasp, and a few other kids laugh and cackle. (Y/N) wipes the snow off of her face, and adjusts her coat. She’s still for a moment when (Y/N) leans down, and grabs a snowball. “Don’t stop playing on my account!” (Y/N) throws a snowball at on of the children, obviously missing, and the other kids scream in excitement.

(Y/N) continues tossing the snowballs, and barely hits a few of the scattering children “(Y/N), what’s in the world are you doing?” a voice yells from across the warzone, the kids make an “oooo” sound while (Y/N) simply stops her movement entirely. She hopelessly rubs her foot against the ground, searching for a response.

Tiny Tim spoke up “she was just having fun Mr. Scrooge!” After he spoke to his sister, Katherine joined him. “Yeah! Maybe you should try it!” (Y/N) belted out a laugh and covered her mouth. Scrooge’s displeased expression causes (Y/N) mild dismay, but his smile returns as he looks back at you. “Alright alright. I’ll leave you to it, but if you have a cold you have only yourselves to blame!” He laughs while the kids cheer.

(Y/N) puts her hand in the snow, and the rest of the kids continue fighting while (Y/N) tosses a snowball Scrooge’s way. The unsuspecting Ebenezer flinched as the snow hit his chest. He wipes his coat, and (Y/N) feels dread wash over her. This was her decision however, and she was more than ready to face any consequences.

She watches Scrooge as he stares directly at her, his face molding into a mischievous one. He quickly leans down, and grabs some snow. Cueing (Y/N) to run and hide, but it’s too late, the snowball hits her shoulder. She counters with a snowball back at him. The children join in on either side, the war continuing.

Tiny Tim lands a hit of (Y/N) she gasps loudly, while Scrooge gently ruffles his hair in approval. (Y/N) grabs a snowball, but before she could throw it, she’s hit in the knee by another. So when she can, she takes the chance and throws the snowball hard at Scrooge, but in the process winds up slipping in the snow. Falling into it face first.

The snowball lands on Ebenezer’s face, his smile never fading. At least not until he sees (Y/N) in the snow. He goes over to her, while the kids move their game to keep playing in another area so they can’t hurt (Y/N) any more. She flips over as Scrooge approaches her, standing beside her limp body. “(Y/N)! Are you alright?” She’s speechless.

“(Y/N)?” He goes to kneel down beside her when her hand shoots up and drags him down with her. He grunts as he hits the ground. Lying next to (Y/N) as she cackles loudly at him. “You fell for the oldest trick in the book Ebenezer!” Her laughs die down as Scrooge sits up on his elbow to see her face better. “You’re wrong (Y/N), I fell for you.” He says with a dopey grin.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at the cheesy joke, Scrooge places a ginger hand on her face. “You’re freezing, we should get going.” He moves to stand, but (Y/N) grabs his tie. She pulls him down to meet her face. “Not just yet, you look good in snow.” She pulls him into a kiss. Ebenezer responds in kind. Holding her face tenderly.

They hold eachother like that for a while, eventually needing to let go. (Y/N) gets help to stand from her fiancé, and Scrooge pulls her close. “I love you, (Y/N). Even if your a little childish.” (Y/N) snickers, fixing her dress and patting off snow. She takes his arm, and leans on his shoulder. “I love you too Ebenezer, and Merry Christmas.” She kisses his cheek.

The two of them continue down the road, and when (Y/N) sneezes Scrooge groans. (Y/N) did in fact get a cold that night. So did Scrooge.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Hello! Requests:Open!💕

I’m Sunshine, and this is my yandere request blog! I write yandere oneshots, headcannons, and scenarios for your entertainment with a maximum character limit of four. Below is a list of rules and what I will write for!! :)

𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺

I will write for:

nsfw (fair warning, it may not be very good) ❣️on that note, I only write for sub characters. ❣️

suggestive content

fluff

most kinks, with exceptions for watersports, spit, and degradation

I will write for GN, afab, and explicitly fem readers only, because I don’t know enough to write about male readers to feel comfortably, sorry!!

𝐹𝒜𝒩𝒟𝒪𝑀𝒮

FNAF (games only):

Michael and William Afton

all animatronics (specify if you want human or natural form)

SLASHERS:                                                                             

Asa Emory

Will Graham

Hannibal Lecter

OG!Michael Myers                                                                                           

Bo Sinclair                                                                                                             

Vincent Sinclair                                                                                                     

Bubba Sawyer                                                                                                       

Thomas Hewitt                                                                                                       

Candyman                                                                             

Brahms Heelshire                                                                                                 

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

Erik                                                                                   

ARCANE

Silco

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi Ackerman

Erwin Smith

Bertholdt Hoover (early 20s)

TWISTED WONDERLAND (actual college)

Riddle Rosehearts

Azul Ashengrotto

Rollo Flamme

BLACK BUTLER

Claude Faustus

Sebastian Michaelis

Ciel Phantomhive (early 20s)

William T. Spears

DEMON SLAYER

Tanjiro Kamado (early 20s)

Yushiro Yamamoto

Muzan Kibutsuji

DISNEY VILLAINS

Judge Claude Frollo

Captain Hook

MASTERLIST 💜💜

Erik Destler (Phantom of the Opera, Musical!Erik and Book!Erik, plus a sprinkle of Cherik.)

General yandere nsfw headcannons 💜

Self indulgent nsfw post💜: part one and two

Erik getting reader pregnant headcannons 💜

Desperate Erik oneshot with cowgirl and facesitting 💜

Erik with a mommy kink headcannons (cannon in all my works) 💜

General kissing with Erik 💜

Erik with voice kink, auralism, and scent kink headcannons 💜

Erik’s nsfw alphabet 💜

Would Erik like to be called babydoll? 💜

Forever and Always, You. Valentine’s Day oneshot (unless someone requests another part and gives some ideas 👀) 💜

Erik with a mommy kink oneshot 💜

A Chance With You series: one💜 two💜 three(in progress)

Cherik general yandere headcannons 💜

Musical!Erik with mirror sex oneshot 💜

Reader making Erik a scarf and he gets whiny because they aren’t paying attention to him 💜

Rollo Flamme

Fragile: Rollo slips you a sleeping potion so he can have your affection while you’re asleep 🔔

Brahms Heelshire

Reader who flinches when he raises his hand 💷

Eyeless Jack

Nsfw alphabet 💙

Ticci Toby

Soft reader headcannons 🪓

Mandela Catalogue

Mark Heathcliff headcannons 🔫

Adam and Jonah x reader from irl 📹📼

Human Cesar Torres headcannons ☎️

Michael Afton

Ghost Michael headcannons 🔦

Withered Bonnie

General headcannons🐰⚙️

Funtime Crew

Touch starved reader 🎉🎈

Silco

Soft reader 💉

Ebenezer Scrooge

Nsfw alphabet 💰

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: Writing a sequel to this fic.Due to this Response

Warnings: light angst then the rest is fluff.

You wanted to tell him, desperately but your mind screamed at you to not say a thing. How would know how the man would react.

You didn’t even know that a few nights of passion would lead to a pregnancy. While you knew the man loved, it was a completely different story being pregnant.

Would he even want this child? Would his feelings for you change? Sinking your teeth into your lips your head turned to the door, Scrooge still insisting on you stay in bed until you got over your sickness. Little did he know that this was something that wouldn’t just go away.

“Ahh you’re awake, that’s good. My nephew…his wife made you some soup and I…I brought it do you.” Pausing Scrooge closed his eyes then scowled to himself. ‘Of course you brought it too her, she clearly has eyes’ he muttered to himself.

Hiding your laughter you sat up ignoring the nausea that it you. “That’s very kin-.” Stopping you quickly slipped out of the bed as you ran to the window throwing up whatever remained in your stomach.

“Y/n…are you…I’m goin to fetch the doctor. Shows how much he knows.”

“No!! Don’t…I’m not.” Digging your nails into your palm you refused to look at the man, how could would.

Placing the tray down, Scrooge frowned as he stepped closer to you only for you to step back. “Y/n.I don’t understand.”

Quickly wiping your eyes you tried to push back the tears that started to slide down your cheeks. “I’m….I am with child.” Swallowing thickly you kept your gaze glued to the ground, you could hear your heart beating, the silence was killing you.

Sitting down, on the edge of his bed Ebenezer did his best or just take in what you just told him. His fingers digging into his robe. ‘You were pregnant?’ He knew he should say something, he had to say something but no words would leave his mouth.

“I…I should go…you don’t.”With tears now running down your cheeks you took off down the stairs ignoring the man calling after you.

•+•

A week, it’s been a week since you hadn’t shown up to work. A week of ignoring the man coming to your door. You couldn’t face him, not now at least, you weren’t even sure what to say to him.

Hearing another knock on your door you slowly made your way over, your hand on your stomach. Peering through the peep hole a small frown formed on your face. Ebenezer was at your door again? His head resting on the wooden frame though you had to strain your ears to hear him.

“Y/n…please just open the door. I just want to talk, please. I’m not upset with you, I. I know how that may seem, with how o used to be but I truly do love you Y/n and having a child with you. I was happy when you told me. It may have taken me a moment but I am happy…I never thought it would be possible to find happiness again, that I could ever have a family but I found one with you. Just please, give me a chance y/n.”

Biting your lip, you rubbed more of the tears away. Your hand hovered over the door knob before you slowly opened it, the man’s head snapping up to meet your gaze. You were surprised to see how ragged he looked. “Are you.”

“Y/n, thank gods.” You we’re suddenly pulled into a tight embrace. Scrooge holding you tightly as you felt some tears stain your neck. “I’m sorry, I promise I will be a good father.”

Sniffling, you let out a small chuckle as your returned his embrace. Your fingers running down his back gently. “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m the one that ran away.” You whispered. “I know you will be a wonderful father.”

-Six Years Later-

“Fran! Please be careful.”

Ebenezer called out as the little girl rushed through the streets, Prudence by her side.

Letting out a snort you lent into your husbands side, his hand tightened a protective grip on your hip making sure you wouldn’t slip. “She’s fine Ebenezer, besides she has Prudence with her, though I will say that it’s rather cute seeing you get all protective.”

Letting out a scoff he then let out a frown pressing his face into your neck. “I am allowed to be a bit protective of my child and pregnant wife.”

Grinning you stood on your toes managing to capture his lips in for a kiss. “Hm you are…and it’s very noble ..I just can’t wait to see you get protective of this little one.”

Stopping your walk, Scrooge placed his hand on your growing belly he gave you a large smile. “I am just excited to meet them.”

“ME TOO!”

Turning to the voice, Scrooge just barley managed to catch his daughter. “Ah that so? You’ll be a wonderful big sister.”

Smiling you watched the two, you never thought you could see the man this happy. Sighing you reached down to give Prudence a pet. “He finally has the happiness he deserves right girl.”

Licking your hand Prudence let out a bark, seems like she agreed and everything was perfect.

[wilson-the-gay-oncologist]

Scrooge x Male Reader

@zanecuddy (your gay and you know it, Why did you ask me for this?)

Complete Fluff, kinda childish reader

Scrooge couldn't entirely say that you were annoying, just that you had no boundaries, that was something hard to deal with.

"Y/N," The taller man looked down on your small figure and ruffled your hair, you smiled at him and leaned into the touch.

"I hope to find you home today by five," Scrooge was always the possessive type, never wanting you to be out late.

"Okay Ebenezer," you never put up a fight, it always ended up in cuddle custody, which meant no cuddles with the Christmas hating man.

Christmas hating was now a low for Scrooge, you knew you were changing him, you remembered last Christmas when he gave you a gift.

"But I'm not going anywhere today," you say with a smile, something about you made Scrooge smirk, maybe it was the way you always had a smile on your face.

You pull Ebenezer into your small body and cuddle him standing, the man gently finds your back with his graceful hands as he returns the embrace.

"My Y/N aren't you cuddly today," Scrooge's laugh is small and gentle, Prudence gives off a bark as you drag Ebenezer to the couch.

You then find yourself in a spoon with the man, and Prudence who jumps onto the couch afterword.

This is how you both awoke to a Christmas full of hidden glee, just the two of you, where no one else would ever find out that Ebenezer Scrooge celebrated Christmas with the joy of the town.

[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. 

[clotpolesonly]

Surfin' On A Sound Wave, Swingin' Through The Stars

halloween fluff posted an hour after halloween is over because i didn't get the wild hair to write this fic until 10:30pm?? it's more likely than you think!!! | Bluesey | Pynch | Gen | 1.8k | Halloween | Couples Costumes | Banter | Fluff | (also on AO3)

.

“How much did Matthew have to beg before you dressed up like that?”

Ronan’s scowl was far less intimidating—not that Gansey was ever cowed by it, truthfully—in light of the large arrow drawn in blue paint on his shaved head. The bright orange tablecloth he wore slung, toga-style, over one shoulder only served to undermine the expression further as he climbed out of the BMW and slammed the door behind him. His smile retained its edge, though, at least.

“Four solid minutes of the word ‘please’, repeated over and over again, before Declan offered to pay my last two speeding tickets if I would just do it and make him shut up.”

Gansey fell in at Ronan’s side as he strode up the car-crowded driveway, the open front door of a modest two story house their destination. 

“I’m surprised you took that offer,” he said. “I would’ve expected you to make Matthew plead for eight minutes more, even louder, just to spite Declan.”

“Declan’s face when he realized I had more speeding tickets that he hadn’t heard about yet was worth caving early.” Ronan kicked the tires of a rusty Buick and turned to look Gansey up and down. “What are you supposed to be, anyway? An aspiring yacht captain who misplaced his yacht?”

Gansey leveled him with an unimpressed look. “These are just my regular clothes and you know it.” He ignored Ronan’s unrepentant sniggering in favor of checking Blue’s text again. “Jane said she has a couple’s costume planned for us but wouldn’t tell me what it is, only that I should just come to the party in my favorite outfit.”

“Maybe she’ll be in bright-ass green and you can be highlighters together.”

“Ha very ha. Is Adam here yet?”

“Fuck if I know. Let’s find out.”

Ronan took all three porch steps in one long stride. Gansey followed in a more traditional manner. The house was loud and crowded with people he mostly didn’t recognize—Mountain View students, presumably, rather than Aglionby ones. Ronan was already halfway down the hall, no thought spared for sticking together, but his costume was brightly colored enough that Gansey had no trouble keeping track of him in the throng.

By the time he caught up to Ronan in what he assumed to be the living room, Gansey had located a drink and Ronan had located his boyfriend.

“Adam! I see you too went the couple’s costume route.”

The look Adam gave him in response to this statement said quite plainly that he disagreed with how Gansey was defining his terms, and that he didn’t have much respect for Gansey’s particular definition. But, as with Ronan earlier, his costume robbed the expression of its usual verve. Not even Adam Parrish could pull off cutting condescension while wearing a headband with a pair of tall paper machine lemur ears attached to them.

“I just got off a long shift at Boyd’s,” Adam told him, “and I’ve got an early shift at the factory tomorrow morning. This was the least effort I could put in and still justifiably call it a costume.”

“Still more effort than Dick put in,” Ronan pointed out, inviting himself into Adam’s space. Adam shifted easily to accommodate him, the two of them pressing together like lodestones. As one, they eyed Gansey’s favorite yellow sweater. Their judgment was more powerful in tandem.

Gansey flushed. “Blue has my costume!“ he said. “I didn’t just opt not to participate in the holiday. I am not the Ebenezer Scrooge of Halloween. I’m simply following instructions.”

Ronan made a whip-crack noise, as if he didn’t ask how high whenever Adam said to jump. As if he didn’t fall all over himself to fulfill Adam’s every desire. As if he didn’t currently have Adam’s hand in the back pocket of his jeans.

The quirk of Adam’s eyebrow and the wry tilt to his smile indicated that he, at least, saw the irony here. He didn’t feel the need to comment, though. Instead, he took a sip of his own drink and then used it to gesture back toward the hallway. 

“Blue’s in the kitchen getting a beer,” he said. “Should be right back.”

Gansey perked up. “You’ve seen her?”

“I’m not telling you her costume.”

Gansey perked back down. “Why ever not?”

“Because it’ll be awful funny this way, and after working for ten hours on a holiday, I really feel like I deserve that.”

In lieu of disagreeing—because he couldn’t exactly argue the fact that Adam worked too hard and deserved a good laugh once in a while, even if it was at his dear beleaguered friend’s expense—Gansey downed the drink some girl in the hall had helpfully passed to him on his way in. He thought it might be rum and coke. Ronan could probably tell just by sniffing it, but Ronan was busy nuzzling his boyfriend’s ear; the real one, not either of the paper mache ones.

Gansey had just about made the decision to leave his friends to their canoodling and get himself another drink when a pair of very familiar arms wound around his waist from behind.

“Jane! Finally!”

He, regretfully, dislodged her embrace. There would be plenty of time for hugging after the great mystery of their costume situation had been resolved to his satisfaction. He thought he heard Ronan smother a laugh as he turned around, but that wasn’t important.

Blue looked radiant. She always did, regardless of what she wore, but this outfit in particular clearly had her pleased as punch. It was a purple dress of a rather more intact nature than most dresses Gansey had seen her don, with buttons up the front and a rounded white collar. More in line with her usual eclectic style, the dress was patterned with…well, a variety of things. Some were ironed-on patches, others looked like she might have embroidered them, and yet more seemed to be painted right onto the fabric. Gansey could make out planets and stars, light bulbs, a battery, test tubes, some snowflakes, several small animals, and was that a piece of cheese?

Her dark hair was even messier than usual, curls pulled back into a tiny puff of a ponytail. All of her hair clips tonight were orange. Her earrings were in the shape of sandwiches.

“Let me guess,” Gansey said gamely. “The delightful Ms. Frizzle?”

Blue’s nose scrunched up when she laughed. He’d been helpless to the charm of it since the first time he’d been granted the privilege of seeing it. Now was no different. He couldn’t muster up even a smidgen of annoyance at having been mystifyingly denied foreknowledge of this entirely benign costume, not with that adorable scrunched up nose on display. It did still beg a question, though.

“You said this was a couple’s costume,” he pointed out. “What exactly am I meant to—”

Blue shoved him in the chest, which struck Gansey as awfully rude and unwarranted. But she was still smiling, her bottom lip tucked neatly between her teeth in a way that meant she was particularly—and mischievously—proud of herself for something. Frowning, Gansey followed her gaze down to where she had made contact with him.

There, stuck to his chest, was what appeared to be a magnet. Or, more accurately, a decal of a magnet. One of the big, red, U-shaped ones, recreated here in thick red and gray felt that adhered quite happily to the old-fuzzy fabric of his sweater.

Gansey blinked at it, uncomprehending, until Blue reached out and stuck something else to him: a blue star on his left pectoral. Then followed a lightbulb, pressed against his stomach, and a little green planet attached to his shoulder. Blue’s smile grew with every felt cutout she pulled out of the pocket of her dress. It wasn���t until the word “wahoo!” was applied over his collarbone that Gansey finally made the connection.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself that he loved this girl with all his heart. Then he said, “Jane. Am I the bus?”

Ronan laughed so hard, he needed to sit down. Adam was red in the face, his lemur ears knocked askew, bracing himself on the back of the loveseat Ronan had claimed as his own. Even some of the partygoers whom Gansey didn’t recognize were tittering appreciatively. One of them actually had her phone out to take a picture.

But none of that was important. Because Blue had her head thrown back, her own laughter lighting her up like a thousand watt bulb. The nose was scrunched. And there was nothing Gansey could do in the face of that except purse his lips against the smile he could feel forming entirely against his will. There was very little dignity to be found in this position, but he was determined to keep hold of at least a shred or two.

That lasted right up until Blue grabbed him by the collar and tugged him down for a kiss. Against his lips, she said, “You’re the most magical bus on the block.”

“I don’t know that there’s a lot of competition for that title.”

“I’ll fight you for it,” Ronan tried to say through a renewed spate of giggles.

Gansey flipped him off without turning to look. Adam guffawed; at least it wasn’t only at Gansey’s expense that he could derive pleasure.

Blue said, “I wouldn’t want you as my magic school bus anyway, Lynch.”

“No, you’d rather ride around in Gansey.” Ronan clawed himself halfway up the back of the couch to point from her to him and back again. “In Gansey! In—!”

He was clearly attempting to say something else, but he was so thoroughly overcome with hysterics that he couldn’t manage to form the words. Knowing him as well as he did, Gansey would hazard a guess that it had something to do with pegging. Adam, whose laughter had reached the point of silent wheezing and oxygen deprivation, was weakly batting in Ronan’s direction as a desperate plea for him to stop. His lemur ears had fallen off entirely.

Gansey turned back to Blue. “Do you see what you’ve done?”

“What I did,” she said, smug as anything, “is win at Halloween.”

“I wasn’t aware the holiday was a competition.”

“Everything is a competition if you’re winning.”

A laugh of his own—overwhelmingly fond and entirely irresistible—bubbled up in Gansey’s chest. He tugged Blue in to wrap his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her messy mop of hair. “You’re a menace, do you know that?”

Blue snuggled contentedly into his embrace, patting his back, and said, “I know. But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

“That depends. Did you just stick another magnet back there?”

“Which answer gets me a ‘yes’?”

Either. Both. Truthfully, there was no answer on this earth that could earn her anything else. Not even when she had dressed him up as a semi-sentient shape-shifting vehicle from a children’s cartoon. Gansey figured the indignity was a small price to pay to be here, with Blue’s arms around him, surrounded by his friends’ happiness.

Still.

“Next year, I’m picking the costumes.”

[quill-pen]

A Good Man

Just a little drabble I wrote, more so wanted to get out ideas about Ebenezer's past that have been circling around my head for a little while. Of course, it turned sappy. And then got just a touch spicy at the end.

Nothing graphic--rated 'T' I'd say. Minors, you're safe.

Synopsis: Ebenezer Scrooge is a good man. If only he could see and accept that.

Pairings: Ebenezer Scrooge X Bess (OC)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past neglect and maybe child abuse, self-loathing, semi-self-harm, crying and emotional Ebenezer (my heart!), sappiness, declarations of love (probably all super cringy), groping and just a hint of implied spice at the end because Ebeness--DUH!

Theme:

It had been 25 years to the day. Nine thousand one hundred and thirty-one days since the death of his father. And, as he always felt irrationally compelled to do, Ebenezer Scrooge had pulled out the beaten-up old lockbox from the deep dark corner of the chest it remained buried in until this day every year and would be returned to when he'd finished. The box contained a handful of letters written to him decades ago, all by his father. They were all short, to the point, and lacking any sort of warmth or fondness.

October 13th, 1805 Son, I have received your complaints about your school and teachers, and acknowledge your desire to come home. Change is frightening as can being so far away from home and family. My advice to you is to toughen up and stay the course. The world is a harsh place, Ebenezer: Think of this as a lesson in that. Your Father, Abner J. Scrooge P.S. I suggest you not write asking to be brought home again as it will only prove to be a waste of good ink and paper and an embarrassment to us both.

January 7, 1806 Son, Your mother, sister and I went away for Christmas and have only just returned home. Needless to say, I'm afraid I've only just now received your letter and request to return home for the holidays. Your mother and sister missed you dearly and your grandparents wondered where you were, but I know it was better for you that you stayed at school. You'll be that much farther ahead in your studies, won't you? Christmas is always the same anyway--you didn't miss out. Seasons Greetings, Abner J. Scrooge

May 3, 1806 Ebenezer, I'm writing to let you know I have secured a summer job for you. Rather than return home for the summer holidays, you will be going to work for friends of the Headmaster's: a Mr. and Mrs. Dilby. They have a farm there in Cumbria. They've agreed to waive fees for your room and board so long as you pull your weight. And I know you will, won't you, Son? Write to your mother and sister--they are missing you. Tell them your summer plans but do not make mention of me. Tell them you've decided this. Regards, Abner J. Scrooge

Abner Josiah Scrooge had not been... an easy man to deal with. He hadn't really been a harsh man--at least, at first. The sixth child and fourth son of a lowly Baron, Abner could hardly have hoped to inherit his father's title, or much money or property, so he'd gone out and become a lawyer--a rather successful one, too. With that success had naturally come money, and with that money had, unfortunately, come the vices: drink, gambling, occasionally women. Sometimes the man would spend money on his family, but typically the majority of it fed his habits. And the more money Abner got, the harder he played; the coin flew out of his hands faster than he could get it in them.

That was how debtor's prison had come about. That was how Ebenezer and his weakly-constituted mother and sister had moved into a rundown, drafty, cramped, two-room apartment hardly fit for rats to live in that did nothing for any of their health. That was how Ebenezer had had to become the breadwinner of the family at nine years old, working at least two jobs, sometimes three, and little odd side jobs to meagerly feed his family. That was how Ebenezer's already tenuous childhood had been lost to him. And that was how the rapid decline of his relationship with his father had begun

That fall after Ebenezer's twelfth birthday and after Abner had gotten out of debtor's prison, his father had sent him far away to boarding school. He said it was to give Ebenezer a chance at a decent education; Ebenezer knew it was because of the row they'd had all that summer. He was angry with his father for everything that he'd put the family through, and Abner had no desire to deal with the drama: A school in the far hills of Cumbria was a good way to avoid it. Abner had done his best to keep his son away after that, hardly allowing him home for visits for any reason; Ebenezer could count once on each hand how many times he'd come home in those years. Holidays were spent at the school where he was often the only boy staying. Summers were almost entirely spent working up north, sometimes on farms, sometimes in shops, sometimes in banks or workshops or factories, really anything Ebenezer had been able to find--he'd tried his hand at it all.

It hadn't all been bad, admittedly. He'd made some solid mates back then, some of which he'd gotten back into regular contact with since he'd changed; and he'd made some good memories (a few of them rather lurid--like Mr. Corshack's spitfire of a niece). And he'd learned and experienced so much he wouldn't have otherwise--his work ethic to this day could testify to that. But it had never been Ebenezer's choice--always his father's. Ebenezer had just... simply stopped fighting it after a while; it seemed better than fighting to come home only to end up bellowing and brawling with the man and upsetting Jen and Ma.

November 18, 1809 Greetings, I've received your request to come home for Christmas this year. It baffles me why you should want to when it's proven so much more profitable for you to stay at school the past several years. Therefore, for your sake, my boy, I cannot possibly allow such a request. Stay in school, work hard, and get ahead. After all, we both know the misery that will befall this house should both of us reside in it for any period of time. Spending Christmas away from each other is much more pleasant--wouldn't you agree, Ebenezer? Sincerely, Abner J. Scrooge

February 1, 1811 Son, I am writing you this to wish you a happy birthday and hope it reaches you in time and finds you well. You're a man now, my son, and it's time for you to take your place in the world. This is what these last several years have been preparing you for and I hope you have the gumption to meet it head on. What you do after graduating, is, of course, up to you. Should you return to London, I expect you to seek and find your own accommodations as you will not be allowed to stay in our house. I will also expect you to find and acquire a job no later than two weeks after arriving, as I have no intention of helping you pay for your housing. It's time for you to be a man now. Welcome to the world, Abner J. Scrooge P.S. Ah, yes--I almost forgot: Happy birthday, Ebenezer.

Ebenezer went back and forth between the letters, reading them over and over again, studying them. The handwriting looked so much like his own--only a tad sloppier. Once again, a thick gloom settled over the former miser. Growing up, he'd wanted nothing more than to be the exact opposite of his father; to be wise with his finances and secure, to be loyal, to be kind and loving and content with what he had. While he had and was all of those things now, it had taken him far too long to get there. It had taken a miraculous, supernatural intervention to turn him around, and the fact that he did, in his mind at least, did not detract from the fact of what he'd become and done before. In his desire to be the opposite of his father, Ebenezer had become a worse man than Abner had ever been in most ways, and exactly like him in others. Hell, he'd even aged into him: The face he saw staring out at him when he looked in the mirror was almost the spitting image of his father's! How anyone could ever admire that face....

"Ah, here you are," a warm, melodic voice reached the banker's ears.

Ebenezer looked up from the letters in his hands to see his American bride standing in the doorway, smirking at him as she leaned against the doorpost. Despite his mood, the man couldn't help but smile, his heart instantly swelling with love for the beautiful, young woman that had, for some miraculous reason, chosen him to be her husband. "You know all you need do is whistle and I'll come running, Sweetness," he remarked with a playful wink.

Bess' freckled cheeks flushed ever so slightly as she came into the bedroom. "I know," she chuckled. "You're such a good wolf for that. But I'm a wolf, too, remember? We like the hunt."

Ebenezer snorted and rolled his eyes as he held a hand out to her.

Bess gladly took it and sat down beside him on the mattress, instantly snuggling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. She smiled into the kiss he pressed to her mouth, reveling in the familiar, warm, smoothness of his lips against hers. A contented sigh left her lungs. "I love how automatic that is," she whispered against the man's lips when he pulled back. "And I love you."

Ebenezer smiled softly and nuzzled his nose against her as he squeezed her close. "I love it and you too," he murmured, pressing another kiss into her coal-black hair.

Bess leaned into it. "I have a confession to make," she admitted, smiling guiltily up at her husband.

Ebenezer cocked a busy, silver-speckled eyebrow and smirked. "Oh, yes?"

"I didn't hunt--I knew exactly where you'd be." Her midnight-blue eyes became sad, empathetic in their concern for him. "I finally actually looked at the calendar and realized what day it is." She gently squeezed his waist as she rested her head on his shoulder, gazing up into his face as she watched his expressions. "Are you all right, Wolfy?" The question was soft, full of love and care for him: Ebenezer felt his heart throb with adoration for his wife yet again because of it.

The Englishman sighed deeply, pulling his gaze from hers. "Yes," he answered sincerely. "Mostly. I suppose. As all right as I can ever seem to be on this day, it seems." His eyes fell back to the papers in his hands and he absently shifted them around.

Bess' eyes went to them too, her face creasing with slight disgust. Those letters were a major cause of her beloved hubby's currently dower mood, and the Yank did not appreciate it. She hated to see the man she loved so much so low in spirits: A somber Ebenezer just wasn't really Ebenezer. "I know why you keep them," she mentioned of the letters, "but I still wish you wouldn't. They make you so sad." She looked back up at her husband and reached up to cup his far cheek in her hand and bring his face closer to hers. "I don't like it when you're sad, Love; it hurts my heart." The woman pressed a lingering kiss to her man's chin and nuzzled into his muttonchops ever so tenderly as she murmured: "I just only ever want to see you happy."

Ebenezer softly chuckled, bowing his head to touch his brow to hers. "I know, Sweetness," he whispered, slate-blue gazing into midnight-blue again. "And I'm sorry to upset you, but I just..." he trailed off into another sigh as he gestured to the letters in his hand.

"You can't get rid of them," Bess finished for him, knowingly. "Just like I'll never be able to forget about all the things Mama said to me growing up. They're reminders."

"Reminders... never to be like him," Ebenezer murmured nearly to himself as he looked through the letter again. A pang of bitterness stabbed through his heart and he snorted harshly, derisively. "All the good that did."

Bess pulled back from him a little bit, narrowing her gaze in suspicion. "What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped. Her voice sounded a little bit harsher than she intended it to, but only because she had an idea of where Ebenezer was going with this claim, and she knew she wouldn't like it.

The man looked at her, meeting and holding her hard gaze. "I grow up all but despising my father--loathing him--wanting nothing more than to be nothing like him." He held up the papers, clenching them in his fist. "I keep these to remind me of the kind of man he was; how cold and distant he could be--how unkind, unfeeling. For years I kept them in plain sight under my nose so that I might not forget." He laughed bitterly tossing the letters away so that they floated haphazardly about the room. "And yet, somehow, despite all that, despite how I continued to remind myself, I turned out to be just as harsh and mean and even worse-tempered than he ever was!" He balled up his fist and hit it hard against his knee--hard enough to probably bruise himself.

Bess flinched. "Ebenezer, please," she soothed, reaching over to place a hopefully calming hand on his arm.

It didn't work. Ebenezer was much too wrapped up in his gloom and dark thoughts at the moment to take notice of her. He hit his other fist against his opposite knee. The knuckles of both fists were deathly white, his grip was so strong. "I promised myself!" he fumed at himself, his face contorting into a nearly monstrous mask of fury. "Time and time again I promised myself and Jen that I would be different--that I wouldn't become my father! Well, not only did I fail in that promise by growing into his temperament, I became even worse than him in every possible aspect!"

"Ebenezer-"

He was pounding both fists against both thighs now, each strike harder and more savage than the last. His vision was starting to swim, his eyes burning with hot tears that threatened to spill over any moment. He didn't care. "I was cruel, selfish, greedy, cared for nothing but profit and no one but myself! I refused to help people when I should have and so easily could have; even my father was known to dump a boatload of money on someone who needed it when he'd been at the bottle! I was needlessly spiteful and hard on people--forced them to pay exorbitantly more than necessary, and I took pleasure in doing so!" The tears started to fall.

"Ebenezer-"

"I made people suffer, prolonged their suffering, and intentionally hurt and offended them! My father may have been a bad man, but he was nothing--nothing--compared to the monster I was--the monster I am!" The man's chest expanded sporadically as he fought for breath, his ribs feeling painfully tight, his heart racing so fast he felt it might explode. His vision started to black out at the edges. "However indirectly, there's blood on my hands: Blood of innocent men, women, and children--so much blood that I'll never know about all of it! I-I'm a bad man! A horrible, cruel, evil man! I deserve the chains and the endless wandering! I deserve a pauper's funeral and grave--I don't deserve to be mourned or remembered! I'm not a good man--I'll never be a good man! I deserve misery! I-I deserve-"

Small but strong hands suddenly closed tight around his wrists and forced his fists away from his thighs. "Ebenezer, stop! Stop, stop, STOP!" Bess' voice barked harshly, gaining his attention. The dark-haired woman knelt down between the man's legs to look up directly into his burning-red, tearful face. Her own eyes were shining with tears glittering on her lashes as she stared beseechingly up at him, holding his fists back to keep him from hurting himself further. Drawn into a thin line, her lips quivered along with her chin. "Ebenezer, please!" she breathed desperately. "Please, just... just stop. For me, just stop, please!"

Her husband stared unwaveringly at her; her gentle face--a face he loved with his whole being--immediately made a calm break over him like tidal waves against a craggy, rocky coast. His chest and ribs still ached, his temples and the muscles in his face felt tight, and he was badly shaking from head to foot, but the rage that had coursed through his veins seconds ago, the self-hatred, it had stopped full force in the warm love-light of those magnificent midnight-blue irises. Unheeded, Ebenezer's fists unfurled and he instinctively reached out for Bess, cupping her heart-shaped face between his palms. "Bess," he rasped, a whimper in his tone.

His wife reached up to hold his face in turn, ever so gently running adoring fingers over his soaked cheeks to try and wipe his tears away before holding his head in her hands. She stroked his chiseled, tear-stained cheekbones with her thumbs. "Please," she quivered, swallowing hard and trying her best to keep her tone even, "stop saying such cruel and hurtful things about the man I love." She offered him a small but determined smile. "Because very few words that have come out of your mouth have been true."

Ebenezer's heart clenched and he screwed his eyes shut, unable to keep looking at her. Those adoring words, that warm smile, her devotion and loyalty to him--he deserved none of it. He was not even remotely worthy of the smallest percentage of it! And yet she gave it to him--freely. The man shook his head within her grasp. "Bess," he groaned, "Sweetness, y-you... you can't say that--you don't... didn't know-"

"Precisely--I didn't know you back then, though I have heard just about everything about it from you, so it's not as though you've been denying or trying to hide what kind of man you used to be. And I didn't know your father, but I've heard a lot about him from you as well. So I'm the perfect person to pass judgment because I can look at you and see you without shadows; I can look at you and see you as you are now without any previous memories to taint my vision of you. Ebenezer, look at me." She gripped his face just a bit more tightly and pulled him down closer as she stretched up toward him; they were practically face-parallel-to-face. For a quiet moment, they simply stared into each other's shining eyes.

"From the moment I met you," Bess began, voice hardly above a whisper, "I've seen nothing even close to resembling either of these men you speak of. From the moment you walked through that office door with Millie on your shoulder and we shook hands, you have been nothing but sweet, kind, chivalrous, charitable, and compassionate to me, to my siblings--everyone."

Ebenezer was entranced; by her eyes, by her words, by her soft hands and skin--everything. She was all there was in the world--everything was Bess. He wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way. "Bess..."

"You're not your father, Ebenezer; and you're not the man you used to be either. You're right about them; they were bad men--cruel, nasty, evil men. But they're not you, my darling. Not anymore. If I'm not my past, Wolf, then neither are you: Whatever bitterness you feel towards yourself--whatever harshness you think you deserve, you're wrong. You deserve nothing but good things; love, happiness, peace--you deserve it all and more."

Ebenezer gently shook his head. "I've done so many bad things, Bess--so many things I can never be forgiven for and will have to answer for in the end."

"Maybe. But you're doing everything to make amends for what you can now. Let God worry about the rest." Bess gently stroked her right hand down her lover's face and brought it to rest on his chest above his heart. "If only you could see your heart as I do, my love," she sighed, rubbing her thumb against his chest, "then you could see exactly the kind of wonderful man you are." She pulled away from his grip on her face and leaned forward to press her lips against his chest between her splayed thumb and index finger. Her lipstick left a perfect print on his white, linen shirt over his heart. "You're a philanthropist," Bess stated, meeting his eyes again, "an honorable businessman, a beloved husband and father; a man with such a big, beautiful heart of gold that he shines so brightly and lights the way for everyone else who follows him." Bess slipped both of her arms around the man's waist and hugged him close again, still gazing up into his downturned face. "This world doesn't deserve you, Ebenezer Scrooge." She lowered her face from his and pressed it into his chest, closing her eyes. "I don't deserve you. You're too beautiful, too amazing, too perfect in every way to be anything other than an angel in disguise--no one is worthy of you." She peppered more kisses across his pectorals, leaving more lovely, dusky purple marks in her wake.

Ebenezer's heart clenched and throbbed with undeniable love and passion for the woman before him. He watched the top of his wife's dark head as she kissed all along his chest, gently smoothing his hands up and down her shoulders and arms. "My darling Bess," he sighed almost whimsically. "My beautiful She-Wolf. My beloved wife."

Bess looked up at him again, her chin pressed almost flat against his chest as he craned her neck back. Tears were shimmering in her eyes again. "I'm not worthy," she repeated, voice rasping, "but I love you, Ebenezer. God be praised--I love you! I've never loved anyone as much as I love you--I didn't even think it was possible to love someone this much. You're my everything; my sun, my moon, my stars, my breath, my life. The only thing I have to offer you in return are my heart, body, and soul, and I give them to you freely, unworthy of you as they are."

"They are not unworthy," Ebenezer croaked, wrapping his arms around the kneeling woman, "they are everything to me. You are everything to me."

Bess gave a gentle smile. "Then perhaps, might you listen to the words of the woman who is both your everything and gives you everything of her own free will and not the harsh words of the man who sired you or the demons in your head? Because they only seek to harm you; I only seek to help you become the best man you could possibly be--the man I know you are in your heart." She stretched out her graceful neck as the silver-haired man bowed his head to her and met him in a soft, lingering kiss so full of love it made both their insides melt into bubbling goo.

Bess slowly rose up off her knees, careful never to break the kiss. Gently pushing against Ebenezer's chest, she made him lay back on the bed, crawling up over him as he gracefully descended to the mattress. She laid down atop him, taking his face in her hands yet again as she angled her mouth over his to deepen the kiss. Instantly, tension began to build. Ebenezer's arms came around her, one locking tight around her waist, the other reaching lower for his hand to grab at her buttocks, both urging her closer to him as the desire grew. The American eagerly obliged. She traced her tongue against the seam of his lips and was quickly granted access: She dove in to meet his tongue with hers--no hesitation. She gently raked her nails down his cheek, neck, and chest; the man growled and held her more tightly.

The couple remained this way for several long, blissful moments, groaning, moaning, whimpering, nipping, licking, groping, expertly working each other up, and getting the blood boiling. When finally they parted for air, Bess gazed down into the hazy, half-lidded, slate-blue-ringed eyes of her husband. Her beautiful husband. Her marvelously wonderful husband whom she would stand between Heaven and Earth with, until the end of time.

"You are a good man, Ebenezer Charles Scrooge," she breathed, her head swimming a bit itself. "The very best man I've ever known and, undoubtedly, will ever know." She kissed his top lip ever so gently as she held his gaze before pushing herself to sit up so that she was straddling him. Then she grabbed his hands, which had come to rest on her waist, and brought them both up to her mouth. She showered them in kisses; all over the fingers, across the knuckles, the backs, each calloused fingertip. She made sure to leave obvious lip prints inside his palms and on the soft, sensitive skin of his inside wrists. The woman was brazen enough to gently stroke her tongue against him there and a thrill went through her when she felt her man shudder beneath her, his eyes widening and growing darker as he watched her and quietly whimpered.

"You're a good man, Wolf," she repeated, smiling down at the man as she gently massaged the outsides of his wrists. "A good man." The woman's smile suddenly turned saucy and a devious gleam came to her eyes. Without a second thought, she brought the Englishman's hands to her breasts and pressed them firmly to her plush and pliant mounds, squeezing his hands to encourage him to grope her. He didn't need much urging and she gasped with delight, a familiar, heady sensation fluttering low in her belly even with the barrier of clothing between their skin. She moaned as he continued his ministrations, letting her head slowly roll 'round. "Mmm. We should see just how good a man you can really be...."

Taglist: @rom-e-o @oldmanlusting @the-house-of-auditore-frye @crimson-phantom-designs @ofvampiirisms @purgratoriat if anybody else would like to be added, let me know!

Romey, why do I get the feeling this is when Gil caught them in the act?

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓞𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼 | 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓰𝓮 (2022)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦 | 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘦𝘣𝘵𝘴

Dedicated to @the-house-of-auditore-frye

Summary: In a world where single mothers and working, low-class women are shunned, how can an unwed seamstress survive? With piling debts and the Christmas season underway, there's nothing worse than adding hopeless, one-sided love to your troubles. Pining after your lender and local miser, Ebenezer Scrooge, can only lead you to ruin. Right?

Author's Note: Hello, all!

This little project came to be because of Frye's post requesting a Scrooge fiction. Please be aware that, as much as I absolutely adore this man and the film, this is my first time writing for Ebenezer. Because I wanted this to be as enjoyable as possible, I spent about a week researching the Victorian Era (everything from coinage to etiquette). That being said, I will try my best to make this historically accurate while also being canon compliant. There is also a jump from past tense to present tense in this chapter, denoted by a cut.

Because the story's plot is mostly fleshed out, I will be trying my best to give you all weekly updates. I have kept or changed a manner of things I saw fit to, but largely kept to the user's storyline. I did give the reader a last name to save my sanity (I also do not use Y/N)! If anyone is interested in the parts of Victorian culture I reference, I'll start leaving notes at the end of chapters.

Word Count: 1558

Ao3 - Mature Rating

Warnings: Period Typical Attitudes/Sexism, Victorian Era

The smell of pine and freshly baked goods swirled in the otherwise polluted London air. A soft breeze tussled ladies’ bonnets and ruffled the cravats of refined gentlemen, the perfect reprise from the muggy smog. With the workhouses and factories tucked just beyond view, prevented from covering the shopping district in coal dust, the street was filled with last minute shoppers and happy couples. Christmas was naught but a short eve away and the holiday cheer was perfectly contagious. Women, accompanied by their mothers and sisters, walked along the newly cleaned sidewalks. Occasionally they would break out in conversation among themselves, whether over a charming gentleman across the way or a new shipment of ribbons advertised on a storefront. Poormen and servants wandered about the stalls in the street, collecting food from the grocers or mead from the brewers. The steady clopping of hooves and the calls of pauper boys selling their papers only added to the busy atmosphere of the shopping district. 

The noise was close to overwhelming for some. One such gentleman walked alone, steel tipped cane clicking loudly against the cobblestone. Occasionally the man would pull his top hat further down his temple, adjust his upturned collar closer to his face, or grumble under his breath at the ineffectiveness of his overcoat. If one were to watch him long enough, they might see him pull a watch from his pocket and check its time against the clock tower’s. He avoided every sign of cheer, failed to acknowledge any gentlewoman he crossed paths with, and refused to return the Christmas wishes thrown his way. 

So bothered by the joyous atmosphere was he that, at his next convenience, he ducked into an alley. There he took a moment to sigh deeply and adjust his evening wear. The permanent scowl across his face was not dissuaded by the huff of breath against his knee.

The man looked down, “Prudence.”

The large, wrinkly mastiff at his feet looked up at the mention of her name. She focused on him, waiting for the graying man to continue. But she did not receive further acknowledgement. Instead, her human took up a brisk pace and exited the alleyway. Set on reaching his destination, the man did not expect to run into a pair of caroling urchins. Nor his nephew shortly after. 

“Uncle Ebenezer, is that you?”

“And to think,” The man growled under his breath, ducking behind a vendor’s stall. “That I should be granted any semblance of peace on such a wretched eve.”

There was a moment of silence and the grouch did not see his nephew’s figure again. “That was close–”

“Uncle! It is you, I knew it!” The cheerful gentleman appeared before him as if teleported by God himself.

Ebenezer Scrooge, cold hearted and lacking patience toward his relative as he was, couldn’t help the obvious annoyance that overtook his features. “Harry–”

“Merry Christmas!” Harry smiled broadly and extended his hat forward in greeting. It was a gesture that Scrooge did not return, favoring instead a scowl and exaggerated eye roll. 

Unfazed by his uncle’s uncouth manner and blatant disrespect, Harry continued on to greet the giant hound at Scrooge’s hip. They engaged in a rather splendid moment, Prudence preening under the kind affections Harry offered. The men exchanged a few short words until the clocktower sounded out, catching their attention. Scrooge smiled gleefully then, a truly cruel and unashamed sort of glee. 

“Out of time, Jenkins,” He turned to face his nephew. “As unpleasant as this encounter has been, Harry, I must bid my goodbyes. I have much to do before the clock strikes the sixth hour of the eve, many debts to collect. Be ye well, God bless you.” He extended his hat, bowing slightly at the waist. 

“Oh, but Uncle–” Harry was cut off as the gray haired man turned down the way. He shared a puzzled look with their canine companion before following suit.

“Uncle, wait! Perhaps, if it will not inconvenience you, I may join you for your final collection.” The request is polite enough, if not a bit hesitant. 

“I suppose you are about to tell me that it would be mutually beneficial to engage in such an excursion together,” Ebenezer Scrooge sighed deeply. “However noble the intention, my good boy, I am about on business –”

“As am I,” The response came from his left. “I have several gifts to acquire before the shops close for Christmas Eve, and I set out with the intent to meet you in the office. Your office.”

“Yes, you said as much.” The ebony cane tapped rhythmically against the cobbles underfoot. “If it is your will, I will not dissuade you. However, I will dismiss you immediately should you encroach upon my time.”

“Of course, as to be expected.”

“Expected?” A large, well maintained eyebrow shot up.

Harry floundered for a moment, unsure if he had crossed a line or poked a nerve. “I only meant that this excursion is as much about business for me as it is for you. ”

“Hmm. Christmas gifts. A pointless waste of coin and effort. Say,” Scrooge turned to face the other man then, halting in the middle of the walkway. “Should not your servant fetch these things?”

“They are preparing Christmas Eve Dinner! It is only right that they spend some time with their families come the morn, so the house will be hosting–” 

-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷

With his cane tucked under his arm, Ebenezer Scrooge adjusts his gloves in the doorway of Jenkin’s Toy Shoppe. His newly edited ledger sits heavily in his vest pocket: 50 pound – Jenkins, due Boxing Day. It gives him great pleasure to know that he will collect double the expected sum of Jenkin’s dues. So much so, the man does not register the fact that he is leaving Prudence in the care of his nephew as he exits the store. He is already tired of the social scenes and obligations placed upon him by society; what with enduring a continued human presence and being accosted by some unlicensed charity band.

‘The nerve,’ He thinks, once again checking his watch. ‘ Twenty past the hour already?"

He lets the cane drop back into his hand, using it for stability in the ice and snow. He has one last destination before he can retreat to his office: Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe. A quaint little place on an industrial corner, hidden amongst the poorest rabble and unkempt developments. Originally owned by a stately old man, the clothing store often employed the lowest-class women and occasional middle-class seamstress. Now, after his passing and with shirts going for 7 pence a dozen, only one woman was left. The store and all of Louwermon’s earthly debts left unto her. 

Scrooge cringes slightly at the thought, bringing his gloved hand to cover a breast pocket. Louwermon hadn’t even been her father. How a woman with so little prospects and devastatingly meager income had been allowed, by the courts no less , to keep the shop was beyond him. He knew she worked day and night, nearly twelve hours each day, to pay her late employer’s debts. That much he approved of, her timeliness and portly manner. But lately, come the winter season, such timeliness had given away to shortchanged dues and even missed payments. That, to the old miser, was the most unacceptable thing about her. 

Lost in thought as he is, Scrooge is surprised when muscle memory encourages him to grip a familiar knob. The door handle, when he looks up to confirm, does indeed belong to the storefront of Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe . With his right hand occupied with the door, he reaches for his ledger with the left. He wants nothing more than to make this trip quick. 

When he finally steps across the threshold, a warm gust of air and the chime of a bell greet him. A fire roars in a hearth to the back of the front room, keeping it warm for customers. In the furthermost right corner there is an area sectioned off for fittings, more an alcove than a proper room. Several dresses sit on the till counter and a rack of men’s shirts line the most immediate wall. A couple mannequins to his left host unfinished coats and suits, while the store windows are arranged to display seasonal accessories. However, despite all the garments, he does not spot the store’s owner.

He stands alone for several long moments, watching the time tick by on his pocket watch. He strains his ears to hear the clicking of the hands, taps his cane a couple times, and tries to tame his impatience by looking around the room. He waits, and waits. Eventually, Scrooge’s patience runs out. Indignant at being left to loiter, he clears his throat as loudly as the dry air will allow. 

“I’ll say, Ms. Blackwood, this is certainly no way to run an establishment!” 

From some room in the very back, Scrooge hears a clattering sound and the rushing of footsteps. The creaking of the door is accompanied by a small murmur of pain. Well worn hands brace themselves against the doorframe and gentle eyes meet stern ones. In her eyes there is a hint of fear and he knows then that she will ask for another extension. 

‘Will I give it?’ He wonders.