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rehfan · 1 year

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Chapter 10 of...

The Hat Shop Girl

Inexperienced!Ralph Penbury X Fem!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Summary: You were working as a clerk in a hat shop when Ralph Penbury walked into your life. Nothing was ever the same.

Tags: meet-cute, eventual smut, slow build, angst with a happy ending, class differences, fantasizing, implied/referenced drug use, non-consensual touching, sexual inexperience, first kiss, kissing, first French kiss, neck kissing, sexual education, angst, emotional hurt, handjob, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, PIV sex, first time, blow job, cream pie, fluff and smut, anal play, rimming, cunnilingus

Warnings: 18+ and over only please. Eventual smutty smut - NOT for children! Non-consensual touching, implied/referenced drug use.

PLEASE DO NOT POST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER SITE. MY WORK IS MINE. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

If you want to read this and my other stuff, find this work on AO3

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - EPILOGUE

A/N: There is a dress mentioned in this chapter that is based on THIS actual design. Take a gander if you want.

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CHAPTER 10: One Last Party

Your staff couldn’t help but notice the profound change in you, try though you might to hide it. You were listless for the next month, just treading water. The best you could do was a smile that didn’t reach your eyes and a tired response anytime anyone asked you a question. Still, the place managed to turn a profit, which gave you hope to hang on to. You knew that for as long as the shop could remain open at least part of your life remained alive. Your heart could be half full.

The other half of your heart, however…

You did write to him at both the country estate and the house they kept in the city. Both letters were returned unopened. You attempted to ring him up, but Lord Penbury was always out. You even became so incensed and bold that you went to their home in the city only to be turned away at both the main door and the servant’s entrance. You knew it was Victoria who gave the order for all of this to happen. The urge to speak with him, if only for a moment, became an obsession. You had to hear his voice, if only on paper. Yet no matter what you tried, Victoria blocked your way to him. It was no use. You were cut off completely.

Used to be your days began with the florist’s delivery, but those had stopped as well. Your heart had held faint hope that Mrs. Randolph might serve as a go-between for the two of you, but when the deliveries stopped, that dream died. You thought it might happen. Victoria was far too thorough. You loved the flowers. It was as if Ralph had been sending them to you and not the shop. Perhaps he had been

Before the last of the flowers that had been delivered could die completely, you stole one display and placed it in your flat. Once the petals were beginning to fall from the peach roses, so you pressed one in some wax paper between the pages of a large dictionary. Right next to the entry for “moron”. You thought it appropriate. You felt a perfect fool for daring to be happy.

One early morning, you had just unlocked the door and were expecting the first of your staff to arrive when you heard the bell on the door ring. Without turning to face your assistant manager, you said, “Anne, I’m going to need you to ring up Mr. Watson and ask them where the green felt is. They can’t be late again with their deliveries. We’re going to have to find another, if they keep this up.”

“Well, well, well,” said a man’s voice, “how cold and businesslike you’ve become, bearcat.”

Randall Miller, late of Selfridges, stood looking smug in the middle of your showroom. It had been months since you were in his odious presence but your skin still crawled. You prepared yourself to scream and scratch but held tight to yourself, managing a calm question: “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, darling,” he said, his grin wide. You thought his good humor was misplaced; you couldn’t understand why he was so happy to be in the presence of a woman who clearly despised him.

“What are you grinning at? Answer me. Why are you here?”

“I’m here on behalf of the new owners of the building. They’re pals of mine. Gave me a job collecting for them,” he said, fingering the feather on a lady’s tea hat. “Time to pay the rent, bearcat.”

You breathed a sigh. “Well why didn’t you say? Here,” you led him to the till and with a motion of your hand, signaled for him to wait. You dipped into the back room where a large table took up the majority of the space. Scattered upon it was the detritus of all your latest efforts on creativity. Only two projects were currently underway - a drought for you - but then, your heart hadn’t really been in it lately and your mind was always elsewhere. Always wondering where he was and what he was doing and whether he was happy.

The safe was at the back of the room, underneath one of the other work counters. It didn’t contain much, just some papers relating to the shop, the company payroll, and some money for the overhead - including the rent. Ever since the grand announcement of the changing of hands, you had become a meticulous bookkeeper - not that you were negligent before! But oh, the hours you’d spent figuring out ways of trimming your budget while still managing to keep things afloat! You had worked a minor miracle week after week, to be honest.

The extra effort and extra hours you put in really helped to make the place seem more and more like yours. It was the one thing you could definitely still control in your life. It gave you stability and a sense of pride. You really loved this old place. It was worth the fight.

“So this is where you keep the dosh, eh?”

Instantly you straightened up. “I told you to stay out there. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s just that the people I work for own the building. The whole building. Including this part of it too. I’m just looking out for their best interests.”

“I’m sure you are,” you said, your tone implying that you thought no such thing. You handed him the cash in an envelope. “Count it. Here. Make sure it’s all there.”

“Aww, I trust you!” he said, tucking the package into his inside pocket.

“No! Count. Here. Now,” you said. “I insist. And you’ll sign a receipt taking a copy with you. I’m not taking any chances.” You produced a chit book with a carbon paper that you neatly printed with the rent amount and the date, marking it paid, and leaving space enough for both of your signatures.

“Alright, alright,” he said, drawing out the envelope and counting the bills inside. It was all there. Satisfied, he signed the chit and then you followed suit. You gave him the copy to place in the envelope.

“I see now why Ralph is so besotted with you,” he said.

At the sound of his name, your heart skipped a beat. Swallowing down your thrill of excitement, you managed to sound casual when you said, “Oh? How is that?”

His eyes roved over you, up your front and down your back as he replied: “You’ve got a sharp little mind as well as a well-turned-“

“Stop!” you cried, narrowing your eyes at him. “That will be quite enough of that. You have what you came for. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave so that our business day can begin.”

The front door bell rang just then, emphasizing your statement. Anne came through to the back room within moments. “Oh! Miss! Sorry I’m late. The train was- Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Anne. This is Mr. Miller. He’s going to be collecting our rent on behalf of the new owners.” Miller and Anne exchanged greetings and you ushered him out as soon as possible. But not before he could give Anne a quick once over, his eyes roving all over her figure. Once gone, Anne turned to you with concern.

“Everything alright, miss?” she asked. “He seemed a bit-“

“Like a wrong ‘un?” you asked. She nodded.

“It’ll be fine,” you said. “I just hope things go a lot smoother next month.”

It didn’t.

Miller showed up just as you opened, pushed his way into the back room again and it took death threats on your part to get him to turn his back as you opened the safe. You were fairly certain he didn’t see the combination, but you didn’t feel comfortable hunched down as you were with him standing behind you.

He chatted with you as he counted the money. “Season opener’s next weekend,” he remarked.

“Season opener?”

“Penbury’s season opener!” And here he put a finger to the side of his nose and winked. “Sure to be a big blowout too. Victoria doesn’t do anything by halves.”

“You mean you still get invitations?”

“Lord, yes! After Ralphie-boy unceremoniously tossed me out after you tried to wrangle a job from me, Victoria came to me all apologies and begged me to come back next season. I’m practically the guest of honor, old girl!”

“Well, congratulations?” you said, at a loss for anything else to say.

As far as you were concerned, attending a Penbury party wasn’t on your to-do list ever again. If Miller was trying to make you jealous, it wasn’t going to work. You never wanted to attend another party of Victoria’s again. Especially if she actually wanted men like Miller there. “I suppose there’ll be plenty of snow there to keep you happy.”

“There should! Ralph scored a coup, believe it or not. Plenty to go around for parties for the rest of his life, I should warrant. Come to think of it, considering Ralph almost died, he and I might share top honors at the do.”

“What?! He almost what?!” Your heart was in your throat. “Is he alright? What happened?”

“Oh he’s fine! Tops!” said Miller. “He’s the hero of the day, it seems. At least, according to the crims that provided him with the powder. Our Ralphie boy took a bullet for their top gent in charge of the syndicate. Italian fellow. American, I think.” Your eyes flew wide and you gasped. Here Miller laughed. “Oh don’t lose your mind, bearcat. You loverboy’s fine. Just a scratch! But it was enough to get that fat cat in the criminal underworld to bestow his gratitude on our little Ralphie - and by extension - the rest of us!”

He stuffed the money back in the envelope and signed the chit. Almost as an afterthought, he added: “Of course, now all his talk about joining the French Foreign Legion has a spine to it, what with that near-death experience.”

“Joining the-” you couldn’t finish the question out loud. Your head was spinning. So much had happened in such a short time, it left you breathless.

“Yes, well. He’s been going on about it for almost two solid months now. It’s getting a little old. Almost ready to drive him to the docks myself and see him off. Still, rumor has it he’s been making his final arrangements with his lawyers. Last will and testament and all that. It really changed him.”

“And how would you know that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “You know how Victoria and her mates can talk. They say she was panicked that he was actually serious this time. Looks like he is.”

Your heart sank and you couldn’t speak. For his part, Miller was unfazed. He bid you goodbye as he tucked the money and the chit in his coat pocket and strolled out of your shop whistling a Gershwin tune.

~080~

Three days came and went and all you did was wonder about Ralph’s physical condition. He was strong and fit, it was true, but he was also Ralph! Where was he shot? Was there a bad scar? Did he have a limp?

That day you first learned the news, your gut had twisted and you were sick. So much so that you had taken to your bed upstairs with a headache and a stomachache and a heartache all at the same time. Anne had taken charge, but you had still been ashamed. To let a man you could never have waylay you in this manner… the independent side of you had been angry. The woman in love within you was shattered. Between the two emotions, you had lost your equilibrium entirely that first day.

You had cried for an hour before sleep took you.

Two days had come and gone since and you were unsteady, but still fighting. The customers were still coming. Hats still needed to be created. Vendors still needed to be negotiated with. Bills still needed to be paid. And there was Marvin the mailman handing you another stack. You sighed and took them to your little bench in the back room. You flipped through them, noting the sender’s names as they flitted by.

But there was one that stood out. Heavy card stock, embossed, sealed with a wax stamp.

Lord Ralph Penbury.

Your breath stopped and it took you a minute to recover, white spots dancing in front of your eyes. Taking slow gulps of air, grateful that you were alone, you unsealed the envelope and with shaking hands removed the paper from within.

It was an invitation. To the party. That weekend. In two days. At the country estate. As a personal guest of Lord Ralph Penbury.

You were thrilled for an instant, but soon took pause. It was a trick. It had to be a trick. Victoria. It had to be. You propped the invitation up against a book or two on the shelf and looked at it like a picture. What did this mean? What could it lead to? What was Victoria up to?

“Miss?” called Anne from the door behind you. You flipped the invite over on its face and quickly turned to regard her. “You have a package, miss,” she said, her arms full of three massive boxes, one only slightly smaller yet taller than the other two. “Three, in fact,” she laughed. She set them on the table and hurried back to the showroom.

Wordlessly, you came to them. Setting each to the side of the other, you opened the biggest box first. Inside, wrapped in thin paper was the most gorgeous gown, diaphanous pleated silk, every shade of blue captured in a graduated hue, heavenly blue at the high collar, sleeveless, a cinched waist, and running down through midnight blue at the sweeping hem. As you held it to you, it swam against your body with a beautiful sheen and shimmer. The maker’s card on top had read “Mariano Fortuny ~ Delphos”. Holy shit. The Italian dressmaker was famous. And famously expensive.

You placed the dress back in the box carefully and stared at it. It was too much. This wasn’t Victoria. It couldn’t be. Oh she’d have invited you alright. She’d invite you then leave you to sort out your own clothes as a final humiliation. She’d invite you and then cackle about you with her friends, all of whom never expected you to come because they knew you had nothing to wear.

No. This was Ralph. It had to be.

The other two boxes held undergarments, accessories, and shoes, respectively. Each from different fashion houses that you recognized easily. Each of the highest quality, because of course they were. There was even a handbag to match the shoes.

You wandered back over to the invitation still flipped over on your desk. There was handwriting on the back. Curious.

Darling – Don’t forget money for the train home. - R.

You had never seen Ralph’s handwriting before, but you could tell it was him. But that was such an odd message. Nothing romantic about it whatsoever. If anything, it was perfunctory. Practical. Two words you would never use to describe Ralph. And the words sort of hurt. Of all the things to say to you, how could he be so…dismissive? Whatever his reasons, he seemed to be inviting you and then sending you home all in one note.

You tapped the invite against your chin as you surveyed your gifts. If you go, at the very least you’ll get to see Ralph again. Which, in the end, is the very thing you heart wanted most. There was also the added enticement that you’ll also get to see Victoria’s and Miller’s jaws drop when they see you arrive in such a stunning ensemble. You can even wear the new hair band you had designed based on the pattern in the walls of the spare room you had occupied all those months ago. And then you and Ralph could hopefully talk and try to figure things out before Victoria had you unceremoniously thrown out.

Was it worth the risk?

A wicked smile spread across your face. “Why not?” you said to the empty room. “Why the hell not?”

~080~

The jazz music hit your ears as you stepped from the cab. The house was lit from within and without, people dancing past the windows. You followed a few other latecomers through the main doors and into the now-familiar foyer. The reception hall was filled with more revelers in their finery, but you noticed that you pulled the attention of more than a few of them as you passed. The Delphos gown was weaving its magic.

Suppressing a grin, you walked with confidence past the grand staircase and into the anteroom, head back, spine straight, knowing you looked like a million bucks. You wanted to keep an air of cool indifference so that your snobby attitude could blend with everyone else’s. As a waiter passed with flutes of champagne, you snatched one up smoothly and proceeded through the crowd to the main ballroom. You felt like you were a spy on a secret mission.

The ballroom was alive. People were everywhere. Booze was everywhere. Jazz was everywhere. You caught sight of Victoria dancing with Miller in the middle of the dance floor. You attempted to elude his focus. You were attempting to seek out Ralph and you didn’t want him to spot you and call the alarm before you could find him.

Moving through the crowd, you kept them both in your peripheral vision. She was talking and talking and talking, her mouth going a mile a minute. He seemed addled as well, but his eyes were everywhere. It seemed they had started on the snow the moment they had arrived.

As you rounded the other side of the dance floor and gained the center of the room, he glanced up from her nattering face and he saw you. The massive jaw drop you expected was just as delicious as you had hoped. You faced him full on having nowhere to hide any longer and wiggled your fingers at him in a small wave that said “yes, it’s me. I’m really here. Eat your heart out”. You saw him whisper urgently to Victoria before turning your attention to the rest of the room still seeking Ralph.

You didn’t have to search for long.

A man mounted one of the centrally located tables just beside you and called for a stop to the music. His clothes were impeccable - especially that dazzling waistcoat he wore. Despite his now-familiar garb, you hardly recognized Ralph. There was nothing of the meek about him. He stood there boldly, his eyes searching the room, stopping when they locked on yours.

“My Lords, Ladies and gents, if I could have your attention, please!” he called out, arms raised, calling a stop to the music.

“Ralph! What are you doing?! “ Victoria shouted. She was right behind you. You didn’t bother to turn to look at her. Your focus was completely on Ralph. He looked so good your fingers ached to touch him. But he wasn’t done addressing the crowd.

He held a glass up to the crowd and said, “A toast! To my new friend, Signore Frantonelli. He was kind enough to join us this evening along with his nephews and cousins and their lovely wives. Let us all give them a warm welcome!”

A cheer went up from the crowd, the alcohol controlling the volume based on individual states of inebriation. For his part, Mr. Frantonelli, who looked to you like a gangster from Chicago (and likely was), raised his glass in salute to Lord Penbury. You heard someone just to your right ask to his friend, sotto voce: “Isn’t that the bloke Ralphie took the bullet for? Gruesome fellow.” The friend nodded. “That’s the very one. I heard…”

But the voice was drowned out by Ralph moving on with his toast: “And next-“

“Ralphie, do stop being tiresome and let’s get on with the dancing!” shouted Victoria.

Ralph ignored her request and went on: “-my adorable twin sister, Victoria!” A general cheer went up at her name and she giggled and waved to one and all.

“My sister, who for years never once allowed me to finish a sentence! Who treated me as the butt of many jokes - most of which all of you were in on. Who can forget all the money that’s been bet over the years when Ralphie was hiding and none of you were seeking? Yes, my sister! That’s thanks to you! Spoiled now, though, I’m afraid. I know better now, my sweet. So let’s hear it for my affectionate, loving, cunning, manipulative, shameful and hateful sister who has spent the better part of our lives deciding my happiness for me.”

The room was quiet now. And a tad bit more sober. Ralph pressed on.

“In her honor, I thought I would recognize her lifetime of effort. And to announce that as of tonight, my dear, you are officially free of your burden.”

The crowd murmured in confusion. “Finally joining up, Ralphie?” shouted a voice from the crowd. “French Foreign Legion at long last?” A murmur of amusement passed through the crowd.

“I did have those plans, Dickie,” Ralph replied. “But after speaking to our family solicitors in order to prepare for my untimely death in said Foreign Legion, a few details about my family and its fortunes have been brought to my attention.”

Another murmur passed through the crowd, voices concerned. Ralph gave them a mean smile and raised his hands for their attention again.

“Oh never fear! Never fear! We will always have enough booze and coke to share with our friends. You just won’t have me to kick around anymore. Isn’t that right, dear sister?” He glared at Victoria. She stared at him, eyes blinking in confusion, mouth opening and shutting like a freshly caught mackerel in the bottom of a boat.

“Now, I must beg your indulgence! I want all of you to play nice while I speak privately with my dear sister. We shan’t be long.” To the band leader he gave a nod and the music resumed with full fervor. He leapt down from the table and scooped up his sister by the elbow, whispering for you to follow. As he passed Signore Frantonelli and his entourage, he gave him a nod. The Italian gentleman nodded back and watched him leave with a wriggling Victoria, you bringing up the rear.

In the anteroom, Victoria became annoyed. “Ralphie, what are you doing? Let me go back to the party!” But Ralph moved her along with quick steps to the remote and much quieter library.

He roughly jerked her elbow toward him, arresting her movement. “Not until after I’ve said what I need to say.” He made full eye contact with her and his tone brooked no argument. You thought it also sounded a bit sad. For her part, Victoria was stunned into silence. Probably for the first time in her life.

As the three of you passed down a back corridor through the manse, you marveled at him. Never before had you seen him so angry. Yet, he seemed perfectly controlled. It was an agonizingly sexy combination and you were a little breathless and flushed. Now there was Lord Ralph Penbury.

He quietly closed the library doors behind the three of you and stood ramrod straight, his hands flexed and unflexed and you both waited for him to say or do something. Anything. The mood in the room had shifted. Not a word was spoken between you three at first, which gave you time to recognize that you weren’t entirely alone. Two men sat at the fireside, brandy snifters in their hands. You thought Ralph was going to ask them to leave, but he didn’t.

He walked to the two men and held out his hand. One of them gave him a pack of paper, triple folded. Ralph opened up the documents and gazed at them briefly before nodding to them both. “Have you got your fare for the train home, darling?” he asked, turning to you, his eyes held a soft light. His boldness was fresh and yet, he was still the same soft boy.

“I- I do,” you replied. “Why? Did you want me to leave?”

“I do,” muttered Victoria.

“Shut up, Victoria,” said Ralph.

Victoria’s jaw dropped. “Ralphie-“

“Shut up,” he said again.

He came to you. “Now you know that I had plans to join the French Foreign Legion. Darling, I’m not doing it. I don’t wish to disappear like I did before. Life without you in it seemed meaningless - is meaningless. But with my new-found knowledge, my sister no longer has a hold on my happiness.” He held out the papers. “I have here a contract,” he said. “It sells my share of the shop to you.”

“Wait. What? You’ll give her the controlling share?” Victoria said. “You fool, Ralph! She’s a nobody! A know-nothing. We are the business-people! We’re the goddamned captains of industry here!”

“I’m doing this and you cannot stop me,” he said to her. Her mouth shut with a snap of her teeth.

To you, gently, he said, “All you have to do is sign. Then the control goes to you.”

Victoria huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, if you must, Ralph. Sell your share. Still, twenty five and a half percent of a profitable business is better than nothing. But I still think you’re doing the wrong thing! You’re giving up too much control! It was your brainchild after all, getting that shop. Our family should see more than a paltry little twenty-five and a half percent!”

“I’m seeing nothing,” he said, “that is to say: we’re seeing nothing. This contract sells all fifty-one percent to her.”

“That’s not right,” she cried. “I have half of that fifty-one!”

“What?” you asked at the same moment, your confusion mixing with Victoria’s outrage.

He took your hand and stepped even closer to you. Softly, he said, “You never deserved to be treated like this. The shop is yours, body and soul. All that’s left is for you to sign and try to forgive me for being so weak for so long. It’s just- I never knew. I never knew about my real place in any of this.”

“Ralphie, the party is going on without us! We’re being bad hosts! We have to get-”

“Do shut UP, Victoria!” he said, his voice firm, his tone cross. His eyes were storm clouds. “If I have to tell you again, I shall bodily carry you to the south fountain and deposit you in it. Do NOT interrupt me again!”

Victoria gasped and stared.

In the awkward silence that followed, your voice was barely heard: “Ralph? What are you talking about?”

His attention snapped back to you and instantly he looked a tad contrite. “My apologies for my behavior just now, my love. None of my ire is directed at you, I assure you. But, as you are about to find out,” here he cut a stare at his sister, “I have been deceived and I am rather incensed.

“Apparently,” he began, “even though I was made to think otherwise after our father’s death, all of this,” and here he held his arms open to encompass the room, “is not meant to be an equal split between us both. It has nothing whatsoever to do with being a twin. It has nothing whatsoever to do with me being born second instead of first as I had been repeatedly reminded.

“You see, my angel, It’s all actually mine. All of it. Every door knob of every room on every estate. Every fireplace. Every brass farthing in our bank accounts.” He stared at his sister. “Even the clothes on your back.”

You snuck a sly look at her. She was as pale as milk. “I was blissfully unaware of this,” continued Ralph, “until our solicitors were so kind as to inform me,” and he gestured at the two men at the fire, “that the money follows the title. Something great-great-great-grandfather declared legally and in perpetuity ages ago. And since you, my sister, are only Lady Penbury by virtue of the fact that I am Lord Penbury - it’s all mine.”

He placed the documents in your hand. “And I’m buying back the entire building as well. I’m willing to knock down a few walls and expand the space of the shop so you can have more room, if you wish. I only-”

“They won’t sell,” said Victoria in smug triumph. “I made a deal with the new owners that they couldn’t afford to refuse.” You gave her a curious look at this. She shrugged. “Helps to know a few gossips in town. And it helps to know the mistress the gent has been keeping secret from his wife. A man is far more simple to deal with when you have all your ducks in a row.”

“I thought you’d try something underhanded,” said Ralph. “Well glad to know we’ve been up to the same thing. You see, thanks to my new friend, Signore Frantonelli and his eternal gratitude, your new owner-friend was very keen to sell. It seems he was more afraid of the signore’s goons than he was of his wife finding out about his mistress.”

“Ralph! You didn’t!” you said.

His ears turned pink. “It was all Mr. Fratonelli’s idea, actually. I didn’t say for him to do anything. He just… did me the favor. For saving his life. He asked me if there was anything in the world that I wanted in order for him to start to repay me and… well…”

“You told him about me,” you whispered. Ralph nodded.

“Turns out, the old signore’s a bit of a romantic at heart,” he smiled. “And I am paying for the building. A genuine price. Not like this contract with you - although, you will find the cost to you quite reasonable, I hope.”

You looked at the document. All sorts of legalese flew past your eyes until you settled on the intended words:

“sale in total of Moxie Creations: £1.00”

“One pound?” you said. “Only one pound?”

“I wanted to choose a nice round figure,” he said, sheepishly grinning at you.

“You’re selling all those shares of that shop for one lousy quid??!” Victoria fairly screamed in her anger. “Have you completely lost your mind?!”

“No, Victoria. Just my heart,” he said, never once glancing at his sister, but pressing his forehead to yours and gliding his hands up and down your upper arms. “Besides, almost getting shot to death helps to clear the cobwebs. Provides perspective on the important things. On everything.”

“Ralph,” you managed around the lump in your throat.

“Can you forgive me for being so weak and stupid for so long?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t harm me,” you said. And you meant it.

“But you would harm me!” cried Victoria. “And all I did was try to protect the Penbury name!”

An anger rose in you. One you didn’t know you possessed. You turned on her. “You! YOU! You protect the Penbury name? HA! You protect the Penbury name about as well as a dog would guard a piece of meat! Only you’re the bigger bitch!

“You snort coke and get drunk and take and take and take - never once thanking anyone who assists you and you consider yourself elite and better bred! You’ve got a hell of a nerve, my girl. You haven’t one genuine feeling for anyone but yourself - not even for your own brother. You claim to guide him into making better choices for the Penbury family name when you can’t seem to keep your nose clean yourself! Literally! And then you act as if your choices are somehow more respectable than mine?

“You should be ashamed of yourself, but you’re not. You wouldn’t know what shame was if it ran up and bit you!”

You saw Ralph out of the corner of your eye, his face the picture of shock mixed with pride. It gave you the spirit to go on. “This man has more respectability and embodies what a true Penbury is. Better than you could ever know! Now I say that after having seen him do right by me - and others! - time and time and time again. He’s moved mountains to help me achieve my dreams and he did it not expecting a single thing in return. The paper in my hand proves that!

“He’s selfless, respectful, innocent, kind, generous, and wonderful and has done everything to earn the title of lord in my eyes. He’s got real class.”

“Real class? Ralph? And not me? We were both to the manner born, shop girl. Unlike you! And you think yourself better than me? Don’t make me laugh,” she replied, her face hard and deadpan. Her statement was all show, however. You could tell by her eyes that you had rattled her. You pressed your advantage.

“Oh! What’s the matter, rich girl? Don’t you know?” you asked, stepping toward her, the fire of your anger giving over to a quiet, cold hatred, “I’ve been raised in the shadow of people like you - people of your social class - and if I’ve learned anything, I’ve learned this: having class isn’t a matter of birth at all. It’s a matter of breeding. Somehow you missed the lessons your brother learned. He’s definitely a lord. You? You’re no lady. And you never will be.”

Victoria reached back to slap you. Ralph caught her wrist before it could land. She stared at him. “Get out,” he said. She opened her mouth to argue, wrenched at his grasp, but he held her and repeated, the words slower and more carefully pronounced. “Get. Out.”

She extricated her arm from her brother’s grip. “I can’t believe you’d throw our good name-”

“I’m not the one who started the snowball party traditions, dear sister. Our good name? We don’t have one because of you. Please don’t act as if you care about the family. Lord knows you’ve never actually cared about me. Our good name? Don’t make me laugh,” he repeated her words back to her and she visibly crumbled.

One of the two solicitors cleared their throat.

“Oh! Apologies gentlemen!” said Ralph, his glare never breaking from his sister’s. “Just a bit of a family squabble. Please forgive my sister. She’s obviously drunk. Again. And she was just leaving.”

Victoria backed out of the room in shocked and defeated silence with her proverbial tail between her legs. The door of the library clicked closed behind her. Faintly, the music came to you through them, but the loudest sound was the crackle in the fireplace and another murmur from the gentlemen behind you.

Ralph took your hand and squeezed it, giving you a shy smile. “Brava, darling.”

“Bravo, yourself,” you smiled back.

Ralph gestured behind you to a grand desk at the other side of the room. “Darling? Will you sign?”

“And how!” You signed three copies of the bill of sale with a pen proffered by one of the solicitors and handed over your payment. Ralph signed where he needed to, the lawyers making their respective marks as well. When all was finished, you expected handshakes all around and the men to leave, but they didn’t.

Ralph asked the men to stand around the other side of the desk and to wait.

Curious as to what is going on, but too afraid to ask directly, you decided to break the awkwardness again: “Will you put me up for the night? I’m afraid I just spent all my train money on a hat shop.”

“Oh I surely do hope you want to stay the night. And then some.”

Ralph went to another door just beside the desk that led out of the library and into a servant’s passage. He motioned to Martha who stood at attention there and she curseyed and came to him escorting another gentleman.

“Now for the second surprise,” said Ralph.

“Not too sure I can take much more, Ralph,” you admitted.

He said to you: “Just come with me for a moment.” To the three men, he said: “Gentlemen, just a minute please.”

He took you by the arm and led you back toward the main library door. “Do you remember when you first came here all those months ago?”

“I do. It seems like a dream now.”

“To me too. A dream that you would be here, always. With me. A dream that I would see a reality.”

“That dream? Made real? How?”

“You could… marry me?” he asked.

“Ralph, I-“

“Before you talk both of us down from this joy, I just want to say this,” he said, holding you away from him at arm’s length. He knelt on one knee and fished a box out of his pocket. “Darling. My darling,” he began, saying your name with a softness that melted your heart, “if I told you that you were the only one for me, I’m not sure you would believe me. If I said that you were the most amazing woman I’d ever met, I know that sounds slightly trite, and maybe even disingenuous.

“What I can say is that you are the one person who has shown me the deepest, most sincere kindness I have ever known. A kindness I’m not sure I deserve because of my cowardice. And so, I am forever in your debt. And since a Penbury always pays his debts, the only way I can repay you would be to keep you in my life for always so that every day I can find bigger and better ways of telling you how much I love you and how much you mean to me.

“So? I shall ask you again, shall I?”

Stunned, you nodded slowly.

“Will you marry me? Will you let me make a feeble start to repaying my debt you?”

He opened the box. Inside was a breathtaking emerald and diamond ring. This had to be the ring he had mentioned before, the one that had once been his grandmother’s. It was staggering. The man who held it out to you was equally staggering. Your vision swam with tears. They burned hot down your cheeks.

On the whole, his experience with you had been brief and sweet. Too brief for most people to know exactly what they wanted. Yet here he was, down on one knee, promising the rest of his life to you. He felt so strongly and so deeply about everything, it wasn’t really a surprise to you that his faith in you was just as all-encompassing; he was so sure about your relationship, about the success of committing to it. It was apparent from the way he had spoken to you just now. Ralph was betting high on the two of you. All his chips were on the table. Now it was up to you.

But were you up for the gamble? Staring into his big brown eyes, he was hard to resist. Still, that stubborn part of you would have its voice. You thought of your independence. You thought of your career. You thought of your own little place all to yourself. And you knew what you had to do. There was no doubt about it. There was no gamble to this. There wasn’t even a risk.

“Yes, Ralph. I would love to marry you.”

The three men applauded. Martha cried and sniffled into a handkerchief. Ralph slipped the ring on your finger and kissed your hand, his eyes welling up with tears.

“May I keep my shop?” The stubborn side of you had to know.

“Of course! I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from what you love!” he said, rising to his feet. “And I think once your first shop gets really going, you’ll want to open others? Just say the word, my dear.”

Delighted, your mind raced with more questions. “When are we to be married?” you asked. “I haven’t even told my parents about you! When am I to introduce you?”

“I agree that our courtship has been most unusual,” he said. “But I have taken the liberty and already spoken to your parents, asking them for your hand. I hope you don’t mind.”

“When? They didn’t tell me!”

“Last weekend,” he said, “and please forgive them, but I asked them not to tell you. I did want you to be surprised. Your mother insisted on beginning to organize a proper wedding for us. She’s already begun to put your trousseau together.”

“Leave it to mother,” you said and laughed. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed. Perhaps it was the last time you saw Ralph. Yes. You knew it was. You sighed, grateful that you wouldn’t have to part from him again. That you would always have laughter in your life from now on. At least, after you were finally married. Until then, however….

“Won’t Victoria make a fuss whenever I’m about? What do we do about her until we can actually wed?”

“I’ve thought of that,” said Ralph with a wink. “And before you say anything, please know that I have always wanted a big splashy wedding. This is just to satisfy the legal aspect of things until we can do things properly. So please trust me.” He led you back to the other side of the room and the stranger among them was introduced to you.

The mysterious third man that had been brought into the room by Martha was the Right Reverend Josiah Wilkes from the local parish. Ralph had planned everything down to the last, it seemed.

Reverend Wilkes presented a marriage certificate which you and Ralph signed and which was witnessed by the two solicitors and Martha. One of the solicitors produced a box with two gold bands inside, one for Ralph, the other for you. Martha handed you a small bouquet of spring flowers which she had retrieved from the servant’s pantry just beyond the side door. There was a card set among the flowers.

Good for you. Choosing the love that’s here today is the smartest thing you could have done. Hang on to that one forever, dearie. Best Wishes — Mrs. Randolph

You couldn’t help but cry now. Martha handed you a fresh handkerchief and you dabbed at your eyes.

“All set?” asked the reverend.

You nodded and stood at Ralph’s left side and the ceremony began. You married Lord Ralph Penbury in the quiet of the library, while the music played and the revelers danced with abandon outside the doors, blissfully unaware that the two of you were making a start on a new life together, now and forever.

******************

MASTERLIST LINK

Tagged readers: @h-ness1944 / @eddie-is-a-god / emma77645 / @hahahafucku / @paranoidmunson / @honey-eyed-munson / @mystars123 / @bl4ckt00thgr1n / @live-love-be-unique / @ becca-alexa / @aysheashea / @bohemianrhapsody86 / @luvrsbian / @etherealglimmer / @ladybug0095 / @pollenallergie / @iyagikkun / @vladersira / @nightonblogmountain / @quinnsmunson / @aysheashea / @bubbabugbee / @dylanmunson

#joseph quinn #fanfic #writing #ralph penbury #ralph x reader #ralph timewasters #ao3 #ao3 writer #The Hat Shop Girl #THSG

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 1 year

Note

hi i have a request for basically any kind of smut for ralph penbury pls 👀 (i’m not picky and i saw ur rules said to be general so i thought this would be fine djshdh okay bye)

ooh yay 🥰 i’ve been to do some more smutty stuff for ralph 🖤 and thank you for reading my rules!! you can’t imagine how many people will send in requests for things and just ignore the rules i have :p

i didn’t really pick anything specific, but i felt like i should expand a little more on some NSFW headcanons 🥰

He always gets so nervous and yet so excited every single time you’re intimate

No matter how many times you’ve done it, he still doesn’t think he’s good enough

But with lots of reassurance and praise you’re always able to convince him that he is absolutely good enough

There’s always lots of foreplay, he loves getting to take his time

Especially when he can make it a little more romantic for you

He’ll plan special trips for you, make sure everyone is out of the house so he can make love to you in front of the fireplace, sometimes he’ll even go out of his way and make the entire day all about you

He’ll get you little presents and take you out to dinners and buy you flowers so you know how adoring he is of you

But when his nerves get the best of him you know you’ve got to make it about him

You’ll give him tons of kisses and praise, doing everything you can to give him a bit more confidence with you

And he’s always very eager to be with you as soon as it’s all happening for him

He’ll take everything nice and slow, and you always make sure to go for a few rounds

He always cums before you but he knows that it’s not over until you finish too

He’ll apologize and get all whiny and needy, he needs to snuggle for a little bit so he can recollect himself and get some more energy

He’ll want you to be on top first, and he gets so nervous to touch you you’ll have to move his hands for him

And whenever it’s his turn it’s always shocking how energized he is for another round

Sweet boy fucks like a jackrabbit as soon as it’s his turn to be on top

And he loves it when it gets loud

Especially when it wakes his sister up from down the hall

#ralph penbury headcanons #ralph penbury fluff #ralph penbury timewasters #ralph penbury x female reader #ralph penbury x y/n #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters #ralph penbury #ralph penbury smut #joseph quinn

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foundtherightwords · 8 months

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All Our Yesterdays - Chapter 13

Pairing: Ralph (Timewasters) x OFC

Summary: Thu, a museum archivist, only wants to escape her dull life in 21st-century Hanoi. The last thing she expects is to end up in 1929 Indochina via a time-traveling elevator and cross paths with Ralph, an Englishman on the run from the French Foreign Legion. Romance blossoms between them, but in a colonized country, unrest is always looming on the horizon, and Thu must decide if she wants to stay with Ralph in the past or return to the safety of the future.

Warnings: outdated/period-typical attitudes about women, mentions of war, mentions of pregnancy and abortion (involving a supporting character), some angst, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 3.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

Chapter 13

The derealization feel was back, except this time it was the reverse. When she'd first arrived in the past, it was in a strange city with familiar sights, whereas now, back in her time, the familiar city suddenly became strange. In the past, she'd had to use her phone to ground herself in reality. Now, she would take out the few things she'd brought back—her áo dài, the money, and the one photo she'd taken from the album, that of her and Ralph reflected in the shop window—and pore over them, to remind herself that it really had happened. There were the photos and the videos on her phone, but they felt less real than these physical things.

The night she first got back, Thu took a long shower, her first one in nearly six months, and blow-dried her hair, but even these luxuries had lost their shine. She missed the quietness, the fresh air, the leisurely pace of the past. Most of all, she missed Ralph, his goofy smile, his enthusiasm, his passion for everything. But it was no use crying over it now. She had given him up. She had made her choice, just as he had made his, and they both had to live with it.

She broke up with Hoang the day after. That was the one thing she still had the strength and clarity of mind left to do. She couldn't escape the nagging thought that she'd cheated on him, even though he had broken up with her first, and, technically speaking, they hadn't even met when she and Ralph got together in 1930. She tried to be gentle about it—after all, it wasn't Hoang's fault. They just weren't a good fit. Better to end this now and let him find someone else, rather than waste both of their time. Hoang took it surprisingly well. Back home, her mom continued to give her the silent treatment, but Thu suspected it was more because Thu had embarrassed her with that stunt with Hoang's mother, rather than because of the breakup. She decided to give her mom time to come around.

The weekend after her return was a long holiday to celebrate Independence Day, and Thu was glad to have the breakup as an excuse to stay home and readjust. She couldn't quite face the crowd and the traffic just yet.

Tentatively, she made some Google searches. "Ralph Penbury", "Ralph Penbury photography", and "Alphonse Davinier photography" yielded no viable result, but she wasn't really expecting to find anything. The best outcome was that he'd gone back to England and lived out the rest of his life in quiet obscurity. "Women's Weekly 1930" brought up a brief mention in an article about women's newspapers in colonial French Indochina; there was no information on when it stopped publishing. "Phuong Le Women's Weekly" and "Phuong Le Vietnamese Nationalist Party" yielded no result either. She didn't bother Googling Mai, or Lien, or any other staff members.

Thu put her phone down with a sigh. All those people were real. They had lived and loved, and for nearly six months, she had lived and loved right alongside them, and now nothing remained of them but the memories in her heart.

Perhaps a bit more than just the memories. The following week, she went back to work, and had to make a detour by the cotton tree to make sure that the heart-framed "R+A" was still there, that it wasn't her imagination.

It was. She ran her finger over the heart and the letters, imagining Ralph carving them, making a deep cut so it wouldn't get worn off, his tongue sticking out slightly as it always did whenever he concentrated, and the pain in her heart lifted a little.

Just as she was turning away to head inside, her eyes caught something else underneath the heart—the word DIG, and an arrow pointing down. They were fainter, which was probably why she hadn't seen them the night she returned.

Her heart started hammering. She leaned down and examined the new discovery more carefully. It was hard to tell with the capital letters, but she was fairly sure these carvings were done by a different hand. Did it have something to do with Ralph at all? But it would be a huge coincidence if someone else just randomly decided to carve the word DIG right under his message for her, wouldn't it? Only one way to find out...

It was the longest day at work she'd ever had. A workday after a long holiday was always slow, but Thu felt the hours dragged extra sluggishly that day. At last, it was closing time. She waited until the last visitors and employees had left, went into the janitor's shed, found a small spade, and started digging at the base of the cotton tree, straight down from the arrow. As she dug, she tried to think of a good excuse in case a security guard happened upon her, but luckily, the tree was near the fence, and nobody ventured over to that side of the grounds.

She dug for a long time, the dirt piling higher and higher next to her, sweat drenching her shirt. Just as she started to feel quite sure that it really was just a coincidence, or whatever had been buried there had been removed sometime in the last 94 years, the spade hit something metal.

Her heart beating faster, she frantically scraped the dirt aside and found a rectangular aluminum tin. Perhaps it had once been a biscuit tin, but now it was covered so completely in rust and dirt that it was impossible to tell. Feeling like Howard Carter at the tomb of Tutankhamen, she lifted the tin out of the hole and pried the lid open. Inside was something long and flat, wrapped in layers and layers of plastic. The plastic disintegrated under her fingers, revealing—

One of Ralph's handkerchiefs, the monogrammed ones she'd given him for Christmas. And under it, the photo album. The album Ralph had given her, and she had left for him. Thanks to being buried deep underground and protected by the plastic and the tin, both the handkerchief and the album were still more or less intact.

The sight of the album sent a chill throughout her body. Why was it here? Why had Ralph left it here for her? Had he been so determined to give it back to her, or had he simply wanted to make a clean break and left behind the one memento that reminded him of her?

She opened the album. A note had been taped under Ralph's dedication on the first page. Like the photos, the ink on it had faded, but it was still legible. My dear Autumn, it said. I cannot take the album with me where I'm going, so I entrusted Mai to return it to you. I already have a picture of you in my mind and my heart for always; there is no need for these. Before I met you, I was drifting, aimless, but you have steadied me. You have shown me so much wonder and joy and made me feel more loved than I ever have, and I will treasure our time together forever. I hope that wherever you are, whenever you are, you will feel as much happiness as you have brought me. Yours, Ralph.

Thu hugged the album to her chest as tears spilled from her eyes. All that he'd written here, she should've said to him as well. She should've told him how much he meant to her. She should've told him how much she loved him.

But as she looked over the album, an unsettling feeling came over her. Something was amiss. This wasn't just a goodbye gift. Maybe it was just her, but "I cannot take the album with me where I'm going" sounded strangely ominous. Why couldn't he have taken it with him, if he was simply going home?

She flicked through the album, looking at the faded photos, searching for some clue, and something white fluttered out of the last page. Another note, shorter than Ralph's. And it was written in Vietnamese.

Dear Thu, Ralph didn't want me to tell you, but he has been arrested for desertion. He is currently in Hỏa Lò waiting to be court-martialed. I don't know why he asked me to bury this for you, but if you receive this, I hope you can come back and visit him. Your friend, Mai.

It was dated the 15th of March, 1930, just a little over two weeks after she'd left.

Thu let the letter fall to the ground and sank onto the base of the cotton tree. Arrested and court-martialed! It must have happened after he carved their initials onto the tree. Now she suddenly understood why he had left the album. Her poor Ralph! How would he cope? And what kind of a sentence would he get for desertion? Not death, surely? With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ran a quick search. It looked like the standard punishment for desertion from the French Foreign Legion was up to five years in prison, which didn't sound that bad, but that was now. It must have been much worse back then. And for someone like Ralph, just a few weeks in jail would be enough to break him completely. No. She couldn't stand by and know that he was suffering, without doing anything about it.

She jumped to her feet, hastily kicking the dirt back into the hole and gathering up the tin and its content, her mind running a mile a minute. Would Homeless Pete still stick around with the time machine, or had he moved on to another place and another time, ready to throw two hapless people together and toy with their hearts? She had to make sure...

She rode her motorbike toward Lenin Park, thinking perhaps Homeless Pete would use the same hangout as he did back in 1929. The usual rush hour traffic forced her to slow the bike to a crawl, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. It was no use, of course—if Homeless Pete was gone, she would have no way of finding him, and Ralph would truly be lost. She tried not to dwell on that. On the other hand, if Homeless Pete was still around—well, he had a time machine, didn't he? He could take her to any time she wanted. Theoretically speaking, anyway. She still had no idea how the time machine worked.

As she navigated the roundabout in front of Tràng Tiền Street, her eyes landed on the familiar figure of Homeless Pete, lounging on the steps of the Opera House, while around him, tourists were running up and down, posing, taking photos of the famous landmark, paying no attention to the scruffy man. Thu would've sworn that Homeless Pete was looking straight at her and giving her a toothy grin. The man always seemed to show up whenever she was upset or anxious... it was like he was magic...

The sight of Homeless Pete made Thu realize she couldn't rush into this willy-nilly. Not like last time. She needed a plan.

Ignoring the irritated shouts from the motorcyclists behind her, Thu squeezed the brakes and turned the bike homeward. She bolted her dinner, managing to swallow some rice and vegetable soup, despite her fear for Ralph churning up her stomach, before retreating to her room and compiling a new list.

It looked like this:

- How time machine works? Goes back exactly 94 years? (Wait until Feb 2024?) Homeless Pete takes request for the exact date? (Return to before Ralph is arrested?) Neither? Keep trying until I hit the right date?

- If all else fails, bust Ralph out (it IS possible - check the files - but can he do it????)

- How time travel affects Ralph? Would the "missing" time catch up with him and cause him to age rapidly like the bad guy in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade"???? (This was crossed out, as Thu decided it was too horrifying to even contemplate. And pointless as well, just like all the other "what if" scenarios.)

- ID for Ralph?????

This last point was underscored several times. Ralph had been right to bring that up. She had been too emotional to accept it, but she knew that even if she could bring Ralph back to the 21st century, he couldn't live here normally, permanently, without some sort of identification. Only she didn't know the first thing about how to obtain it.

But she knew someone who probably did.

***

"Hey cuz," Cousin Minh said, looking up as Thu entered his visa agency the next day. His rotund, cheerful face and amicable manners belied his shrewdness as a businessman. "What brings you here?"

"I have kind of a—uh, a weird situation I need your help with."

"Sure, anything for my little cousin." Minh pulled up a chair, and Thu sat down gratefully.

"Listen, if you're a foreigner stuck in Vietnam, and you have no paperwork, no record whatsoever, how would you go about getting some sort of ID?" she asked.

"Well, the first thing would be to go to the embassy—"

"No, you don't understand," Thu interrupted. "I'm talking about a person who, legally, doesn't exist. No family. Nothing."

Minh's eyebrows shot up. "What, like an undocumented immigrant or something?"

More like a time traveler, Thu thought, but she said, "Something like that. Is it possible for someone in that situation to get an ID?"

Minh scratched his beard. "It'll be difficult." Thu deflated, only to sit up again when Minh continued, lowering his voice meaningfully, "If you want things done above board, of course."

"You mean it can be done illegally?"

"Yeah. Basically, it's identity theft, but it can be done—" Her cousin suddenly looked wary and glanced at the closed door of his office, as if afraid one of his staff might bust in at any moment. "What are you getting at?"

Thu swallowed. "I have a—a friend who needs an ID. Like I said, he was in a bit of a weird situation, and he's coming here to—uh, to escape it." Seeing Minh's hesitation, she quickly added, "It's nothing criminal, I promise you! It's just—weird."

"How weird are we talking here?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

So he wants the truth, doesn't he? Well, here goes nothing... "He's a time traveler from the 1930s," she said in a rush.

There was a moment of silence as Minh stared at her, then he let out a bark of a laugh. "Ha! Good one, cuz! You almost had me there for a second!"

Thu gave him a forced grin, hoping he didn't see the dread in her eyes. Then Minh sat up, looking more serious. "OK, if I do this, it doesn't come back to me, you understand?"

"Of course."

"And it's going to cost you."

She had prepared for this as well. "I won't tell Auntie who really drove her motorbike into the wall that time."

Minh laughed, but he sobered up when he saw that she was serious. "Fine, but that's not enough. What else you got?"

Thu rolled her eyes. "If you do this, I'll come work for you for free for a month," she offered.

"A year."

"A year?!" she exclaimed. "That's a rip-off!"

"Hey, it's a high-risk job," Minh said with a shrug.

"Two months then."

"Ten."

"Six."

"Deal!" Minh extended a hand, and Thu wondered if she had just been out-haggled.

"Six months, but only part-time, OK?" she said, unwilling to let him win that easily. "I'm not quitting my job at the museum."

"You got it." As they shook hands, Minh added, "Hey, once your friend gets here, I'd like to meet him. Must be someone special, if my straitlaced cousin is willing to break the law for him."

He is, she thought, but only responded with a cryptic smile before hurrying home. She had to pack for her trip back in time.

***

That Friday, Thu went to work with her old-timey men's suit folded into her backpack, which she changed into after she left the museum, some modern medicine, another gold necklace she'd bought with her savings (she had no idea which time she may end up in, and gold would be far more useful than money), the spare key to Ralph's studio, which she'd taken with her by mistake, his handkerchief for good luck, and several bags of M&Ms. The previous day, she'd visited Hỏa Lò Prison Museum, shown them her credentials, and asked to see everything they had in their archive of previous prison break attempts. There wasn't much—the wars had destroyed most of the records, so whatever information the museum had was gleaned from the memoirs of those political prisoners who'd made the attempts. It only made Thu more aware of how harebrained her plan was. If even hardened revolutionaries could fail in their escape, what hope did she and Ralph have? But she had to try.

Of course, it would be ideal if she didn't have to break him out at all. Her plan was simply to arrive before he was arrested and whisk him away. But from what she'd seen, time traveling with Homeless Pete was never an exact science. The best she could expect was to end up in the right year.

Still, that didn't stop her from telling Homeless Pete, slowly and clearly as if she was speaking to someone hard of hearing, that she would like to go back to February 28th, 1930. "Can you?" she asked, giving him a bag of M&Ms. "2-8-2-3-0. Or 2-2-8-1-9-3-0. However you do it. Please?"

Homeless Pete shrugged and popped an M&M into his mouth as he worked the elevator's keypad.

With a sigh, Thu braced herself. Please, please get me there in time to save Ralph. And bring us back. Please...

The elevator shuddered to a stop. Homeless Pete was gone. The elevator's doors had transformed into the old-fashioning rolling doors, which she took as a good sign. She rolled them open, cautiously peeked her head out, and was greeted by the smell of ink and the sound of the printing press. So far, so good. Feeling like she'd come home, Thu slipped out of the elevator and left the IDEO building, blending in with the few people on the streets, workers coming home late or some night owls out for an early evening stroll. The air was still chilly, but there was already a touch of the mugginess of early spring. Perhaps Homeless Pete had come through after all. She hurried toward Rue Borgnis Desbordes, her footsteps falling in time with her heartbeats.

Arriving at the studio, she banged on the little side door so hard her hand hurt. "Ralph?" she called. "You home? It's me, Autumn! I've come back!" But there was only silence. Had she arrived in the wrong time? Or had she simply missed him?

Her heart in her throat, she delved into her backpack for the key and put it into the lock.

It didn't fit.

She looked around, desperation mounting, and noticed that the sign saying A. Davinier, Studio de Photographie was gone. Gone, or hadn't been put up? Either way, she was definitely in the wrong time. The question was, how off was she?

Swallowing the panic rising like scorching bile in her throat, Thu ran back into the street, searching for someone to ask. By a stroke of luck, or perhaps it was the universe answering her question, the wind blew an old discarded newspaper right to her feet. She picked it up and held it under the fitful streetlamp.

The date said 28 Mars 1930, or the 29th of the second month of the Year of the Horse.

So, the right year, but the wrong date. Mars. March. Almost two weeks after Mai's letter. And the paper could be even older than that. Shit.

Where was Homeless Pete now? At the Opera House or at Robin Park? The Opera House was closer. She'd try that first. She needed to keep moving or she'd fly into pieces. Ralph wasn't here to hold her and calm her down. She needed to keep her mind clear and focused, for him.

She almost cried out from relief upon seeing Homeless Pete shuffling near the Opera House, still munching on the M&Ms. She ran to him and clutched at his coat. "Homeless Pete, thank Heavens! You have to bring me further back! I need to go to the 28th of February, not the 28th of March. Please! I have more chocolate here—"

But Homeless Pete shook himself free of her grasp, looking rather irritated. "Recharge," he muttered.

Thu paused. "Recharge?" she repeated. "You mean the time machine needs to be recharged? Or is it you that needs recharging?"

"Recharge," he said again and vanished into the darkness behind the Opera House, leaving Thu standing there, bewildered, frightened, lost.

Shit, shit, shit.

She gripped Ralph's handkerchief tightly in her fist, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her thoughts.

What could she do? Wait until Homeless Pete finished "recharging", whenever that might be, and try again? But there was no guarantee he would bring her to the right time. What if, with each subsequent trip, she would slip further and further away from Ralph? What if she couldn't reach him until she was an old woman? This was the closest she could get. Right year, wrong date, but not too wrong. She was about a month off at the most. Perhaps Ralph was still in jail. There was still a chance to get him out. She had planned for this contingency. She could do this. But first, she needed a place to stay for the night.

Thu turned around and headed toward her old boarding house.

The last chapter is coming next week! Stay tuned!

#ralph penbury #ralph timewasters #ralph x ofc #ralph penbury fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

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ladybug0095 · 2 years

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“A Rivalry for the Ages”

*RalphxFem!reader*

Series Summary : You have know The Penbury twins since you were in nappys. As the years went by You and Victoria grew close ,but as for you an Ralph, you only grew to resent each other. Being the hardheaded people you are you willing to let your rivalry get in the way of your newfound feeling for each other.

*Authors note: hi! Very 1st fic ever. I wanted to write a fix for Ralph that I hadn’t seen yet. A enemies go lovers! I love to think of him as a big feisty and the ideas just made me so happy. Also btw I wrote this at 12-2 am in my phones notes I am also like criminally dyslexic so please forgive me for any spelling errors. And please be free to give me helpful and constructive feedback. I would really appreciate it. Also know this is a slow burn.* a/n: 25/9/22 currently working on part 2 rn. Almost done but been busy with my son. If you want to be tagged just let me know ❤️

Tw: swearing, slight misogyny but come on it the 1920’s it’s expected, physically touch, and just pure Angst, and mention of death!

Chapter 1: Welcome home darling

Chapter summary : after a year long trip to the states you are more then eager to be back in the arms of you beloved best friend Victoria but that also means you had to see her brother an your sworn rival as well.

Looking out the back window of your brand new automobile you couldn’t wait to see your closest friend in the whole world, well more like platonic soulmate if you were being honest, and tell her all about your trip to the states. The only downside would be having to see the pain in your ass that was her twin brother, Ralph Penbury, even the thought of him make your blood boil with anger and detest.

The stupid way he would just lull around the manor like he owned the place, well technically speaking he did by the stupid fact of being born a male, and the way he would play that god forsaken ukulele of his day in an day out.

He was your sworn enemy since childhood for one reason an one reason only, A decision that was made for you not long after your second Birthday. The thought of it made you sick to your stomach as you get lost in it, so lost in fact you hadn’t even realized you had come to a stop till your chauffeur was pulling open your door startling you in the process

“Sorry my lady. It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding once you realized what was happening.

“It’s okay Albert, it’s not your fault that I was day dreaming” you said you with a small smile earning a chuckle from Him. He offered you his hand to help you, which you graciously took with a thank you.

As you existed the automobile you were greeted with the sweet sound of your Victoria singing your name and running full force towards you with open arms, of course you follow in her footsteps, and soon you are both engulfing each other in a bone crushing hug and squealing each others names. After what felt like seconds but was truthful more like 5 minutes, you reluctantly release each other’s opting to hold hands instead

“my darling Persephone ,How I have missed you so! The photographs and letters you sent have done you no justice.” Victoria says in one quick breath as if she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“My beloved Aphrodite, how I have missed your presence! My memory seems to have failed me because you are even more beautiful then it gave you credit for!”

The comments earned a string of giggles from you both as you embraced again.

Once you both were ready you locked arms an turned towards the house to see her Father an ,begrudgingly to you, her brother.

You walked up the steps leading to the town house with a big smile plastered on your face As Mister Penbury pulled you in a tight bear hug with a kiss on the cheek which you returned.

“Ahh the all mighty Zeus, how I have missed these hugs”

“(Y/N) you have grown into quite the women this last year. I hope America was good to you?”

“It was more then good…it was simply…spectacular, but nothing could hold a candle to great England.”

“That’s what I like to hear love” he said with a small pat to your cheek.

And with one last squeeze he you let go.

Turing you were now face to face with the one person you couldn’t stand. The look on Ralph’s face matched the one you had gave the moment you layed eyes on him. Nose scrunched up ,lips pursed into a pout of disgusted an eyebrows pulled together in a scowl.

“Hades.” Was all you could muster up in the most hate filled voice ever.

Ralph looked you up an down with a roll of his eyes.

“(y/n) how many times do I have to tell you call me by my name, and how I do hate that you an my sister still insists to call me that ridicules nickname.”

Ah the nicknames, how you did love them so. A little backstory, when you and Victoria were younger you had both decided to give everyone a nickname after you read a book of Greek mythology. The story’s had intrigued you both as children and had become the normal for anyone who knew you personal. The fact that Ralph hated his only made it that much sweeter.

With a smirk you an Ralph got into one of your famous ‘who will backdown first’ stare downs. It was something that had started at your 16th birthday party. The year you has Celebrated becoming a Women because now you could officially entire Society, Something you despised with a passion but did because of your dear Victoria.

“Oh good heavens. I can’t do this anymore. Move Hades! “ Victoria practically yelled while shoving Poor Ralph out the way much to his Protest Earning a maniacal laugh from you as she pulled you in by your arm.

Once settled in the amazing townhouse that the Penbury twins resided in, you all met in the Drawing room for a late afternoon tea ,via Victorias doing much to her twin brother protest.

As you sipped on that cup of tea you couldn’t help but close your eyes let a small sound of delight and relief escape you as you let the taste and smell of the tea consume you.

You blushed as you realized what you had done, feeling slight embarrassed as you looked around as saw all eyes on you.

“The tea that good dear?” Mister Penbury laughed shaking his head sipping his cup.

You laughed setting your cup down “my apologies, truly. As much as I enjoyed America and all the cuisine they had to offer it seems they just couldn’t get a simple cup of English tea right. So this is a simple pleasure I’ve been looking forward too for sometime”

Victoria smiles and coos at that. She always told you how much she appreciate your joys for the little things In life that other took for granted so often, even her. You always brought her down to earth when you were around And with her larger then life personality it was nice to have that around.

As tea continue and you talked about your time in America, Ralph hadn’t said a single thing, not that you cared to hear what he had to say, but you could tell his father was starting to get frustrated with the lack of communication from his Only son. With a clearing of his throat mister Penbury got Ralph’s attention, earning a sigh of reluctance from the young man before he finally joined the conversation.

“So (y/n) why is it you went to America again? I seem to have forgotten. All the days of peace and quiet must of cleared my head of whatever it was you last squaked out before you left”

You looked at him and rolled your eyes. The anger practically radiating off you towards him.

“Well Hades scene you seem to have forgotten, which isn’t much of a surprise seeing as you have the IQ of a chimpanzee, wait no that’s a insult to all chimps out there and i simply can’t do that to them, but Anyways to answer your question I went to finish my studies and live with my great aunt Hellen while I help get her finances in order.”

Ralph hated that he had to bit his own tongue an fake some interest in your explication and ignor the insult to his intelligence.

This made you happy to see an earned a small snickers from you.

To anyone not familiar with your whole situation with the Younger of the twins it would of been awkward an uncomfortable with the tension Ralph and you gave off when simply talking. they simply didn’t understand the backstory that has formed this tension over the years.

For you see As the only child of your late mother and father you were to be married off to a wealth man only for him inherit what was rightfully yours by blood. Your father has decided that his best friend an business partners son would be the best choice for a husband. You were a measly two years old when you were promised to a four year old Ralph.

The thought was a joy when you were young an naive and knowing you were growing up with your future husband and would eventually die with his too made your stomach flutter with butterflies ,it was quite poetic when you thought about it. But as you grew older an the reality was finally revealed at the ripe age of 8 that he would inherited your fortune all because of the fact that you were a female and he was a male, Well it made you fill with rage an disgusting for the boy you had thought you loved.

Because of this you tried your hardest to be better then him in all things academically and leisurely just to prove you were just as worthy as him and all the things he was give simply due to the fact that he has a penis.

It had driven a wedge in between you two over the years as you constantly outdid him in everything. He was versed in literature so you became and expert , he has a great ear for music but you have a better one, he enjoyed math well guess what you excellent in it. You could tell it made him resent you for making him seem less then to his father, who was already disappointed in the man his son had become over years but it wasn’t your problem that you were simply better. You couldn’t help it and to add insult to injury you were also more physically inclined as well. Being a pro in hunting not just with a gun but also a bow, being a award winning equestrian, and lastly always being able to beat him in an arm wrestling match. Now it may not seem like much but to make him lose to a female at a simple arm wrestling match was your biggest conquest an what had really cemented Ralph’s hatred for you after you had beat him at his 14th birthday in front of all his friends an Victorias as well at only the age of 12, Not even a lady yet still just a child.

you were pulled out from your thoughts of being a better human by mister Penbury informing you of his departure of the townhouse to go away for business. You frowned and felt you stomach ack a little at the news

“Aww you aren’t staying for the party? I was so hoping to steal a dance with my favorite dance partner.”

Mister Penbury could see the pain in your eyes leaning down to give you a small kiss on the crown of your head as he stood up

“We’ll as much I would love to stay an take you up on that offer my love I have business to attend too. I do hope you enjoy the party it’s costing me a pretty penny.” He said eyeing Victoria as he said it. The thought made you laugh, knowing as much as he hated to spend all that money on a simple party he just couldn’t say no to his dear daughter especially when said party was for you ,see you were also his daughter, well god daughter but still he treated you like one. Always buying you gifts an having you over at his house all the time spending to time with the twins. And after the death of your father not even a year after losing your mother he really took his roll of being your father figure seriously. It meant a lot to you for you always though of him as a second father growing up. So as much as it pained you see him leave after such a long time apart you know you had to let him go tend to the business that both he and your father worked so hard to grow into what it was now. So with a long strong hug an one last kiss goodbye he was gone, and in almost an instant Victoria was pulling you toward her bed room so she could finally prod you for the more devious details of you year abroad as you both got ready for the party that was to take place that night. Giggle and laughter all the way up the stairs you couldn’t help but see Ralph in the corner of your eyes with what almost looked like a happy smile on his face looking at… you?

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters × reader #ralph penbury x reader #timewasters 2017 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn × reader #1920’s #slow burn #fanfic

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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year

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moonie’s fic list #2

minors dni!

total fics: 6

updated: feb. 8, '23

12/16/22 -> eddie rescues reader; 950 words / fluff;angst;comfort

perfectlysunny02 said: hi! idk how i thought of this please don’t judge me but idk if you’ve ever watched twilight but she almost gets hit by a car and Edward saves her and then gaslights her and the entire time i was watching this scene i was like boooo eddie would neverrrrr. eddie’s the better edward Cullen🤣😭

12/17/22 -> eddie just wants to sit with reader; 795 words / comfort

simping-over-boys-with-trauma said: I have an Eddie comfort HC that's kinda self indulgent but what's new. So I work with kids (like toddlers). And sometimes, when I get home, I need to just sit in a dark, quiet room for a bit. I feel like Eddie would understand, but still struggle cause he's missed you allllll day, and now you wanna be alone?? So he'd promise to sit very quietly if you let him in the room with you.

12/21/22 -> steve harrington comfort special; 711 words / comfort

Anonymous said: So I don’t know if you write for steve or not but if you do, could you do a steve x sick reader please? I have the flu and I’m dying

12/22/22 -> eddie & wayne holiday blurb; 273 words / fluff

simping-over-boys-with-trauma said: [...] Do you think Eddie is a holiday-spirit kinda person? Or is he just waiting for it to be over?

02/07/23 -> where's my love; 1.8k words / hurt;comfort

Anonymous said: can i request something inspired by where’s my love - syml? maybe bubbly reader developed something traumatic after the s4 events and just blocked everyone in her life and eddie’s worry sick that they might never be themselves again and starts helping them and all that hurt/comfort cutie patootie. luv your work!! 😭💛

02/08/23 -> nutella and sprinkles; 680 words / fluff

ralph-penbury said: how do you think eddie would react to having a partner that always says shit like “i had a handful of rainbow sprinkles for lunch today” ,, like they’re the laziest ever, very chaotic in how they take care of themself, so eddie’s just like🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️please gOd —

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson oneshot #mine

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spider-quinn · 10 months

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Ralph TimeWasters 💙🍾🎸

I thought to spread some joy today since this weekend is Denver Fan Expo, which Joe was originally scheduled to attend but was unable to because he’s filming Gladiator 2 which there hasn’t been any pics of him yet, but hopefully we will get some soon 🤞🏼 . There were a lot of fans that paid a lot of money, made arrangements to travel so far to meet him, which majority understood and a few are not taking it well. In addition to the backlash of the Fantastic Four casting, which it shouldn’t matter what type of movie or role Joe decides to audition for, as long as it interests him and that it’s another role that he gets to explore and we fall in love with 😍.

I have been wanting to make a Ralph Penbury video for the longest time because not only is he one of my fav characters that Joe performed, even though he may not remember 😅 but also because I thought a Roaring 20s party video would be fun to make. 🎉🎊⛲️🎶

Hope y’all like it, please give it a like or reblog 🥂

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pollenallergie · 1 year

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lord ralph penbury would not be one of those “my wife” guys

no no no no no

he’d introduce you to everyone first and foremost by your own goddamn name and your own job (or hobbies or title) and then he’d suddenly get all blushy and giggly and go “oh yeah and we’re married 🥰🥰🥰”

#he’s like this is lady (your name) penbury and she’s a genius! oh and… hehe i’m her husband <3 #or my non-binary babes: “this is (your name) penbury and they’re a genius!! oh yeah… and i’m their husband! isn’t that wizard!!#such a wholesome and pure little stringbean #love love love my ralphie bear #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury #ralph timewasters #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury thoughts #think ralphie thoughts 💭#ralph penbury headcanon #ralph penbury hc

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wheels-of-despair · 3 months

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Always Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Series Masterlist

The Most Amazing Wife in the World Summary: Ralph is having a rough day, but his amazing wife knows exactly how to turn things around. Words: 900ish

You hear a groan of frustration as you pass through the hallway outside Ralph's study.

You peek your head inside and see your usually-happy husband red-faced and angry at a desk full of papers. He glares at the page in front of him and holds a pen in his hand like he's ready to stab someone with it.

On another man, this sort of rage might be terrifying. But on your Ralphie, it feels about as threatening as an angry kitten.

"You're looking awfully grumpy in there, pup," you tease from the doorway. He looks up, and his face softens immediately. "Is everything alright?"

"Not really," he sighs, setting his pen aside. He rubs his eyes.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes."

You step into the room and await instruction.

"A kiss, if you please."

You smile and approach his desk. Ralph pushes his chair back to make room for you, and you settle on his lap. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up, lips puckered and ready for his kiss.

You give him several, for being such an amazing husband.

Eventually, he rests his head in the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"What are you working on, love?" you ask, reaching for a piece of paper and trying to make sense of the figures that had been causing him so much grief.

"Boring financial things, mostly. I've been struggling with the arithmetic for so long, my fingers are starting to cramp."

You put down the paper and reach for his hand, bringing it to your lips and kissing each of his ink-smudged fingertips. Managing your own finances is hard work, but Ralph had decided that it was something he wanted to try, and you'd support him however you could. Even if it just meant distracting him when he needed it.

"How long 'til you're ready to stop for the day?"

Ralph looks at the grandfather clock and sucks air through his teeth.

"How about this," you suggest, placing a finger beneath his chin and guiding his gaze to yours. "You give this one more chance, and if you can't make sense of it in the next half-hour, you'll take it to a professional tomorrow."

"Alright," he smiles.

"Come to the garden when you've finished."

"Isn't it chilly out today?"

"Wear a jacket," you tease with a tug on his lapel.

Half an hour later, Ralph traipsed into the garden, bringing a blanket in case it was chillier than he thought.

But you'd already brought one.

A picnic blanket was spread on the ground beneath his favorite tree. On it were his smiling wife, a bottle of wine, and a basket that likely contained food.

Ralph's face split into a grin. This is exactly what he needed.

"Come on, pup, I have a surprise for you."

Ralph bounds over to the blanket, bubbling with excitement. TWO surprises? Mrs. Ralph Penbury is the most amazing wife in the world.

You hold up a pair of mittens. You're still new at knitting, and often laugh at your own attempts, but Ralph is so proud of your progress. Each new project is more beautiful than the last!

"They're lovely, darling!"

"I made them just for you," you smile, offering him the mittens. He takes them and turns them over in his hands, admiring the work and care and love you'd put into these. The finest, most expensive store-bought garments couldn't hold a candle to the things his wife made in their very own home. To think, a person could create something so thoughtful and personal with only a bit of string! He puts his mittens on, and his hands are soon as warm as his heart.

He grins at you and holds up his hands to show off his lovely gift, and you smile proudly.

"Are you ready for refreshments?" you ask, opening the basket you'd brought into the back yard. Ralph nods and scoots closer.

He moves to take his new mittens off, but your hand stops him. He looks up in confusion.

"You said your fingers were cramping from all the work you've done today. Give them a rest. Let me feed you."

Ralph nearly chokes on his own saliva.

While he sits there in stunned silence, you pull out finger sandwiches, fruit, and little treats to nibble on. When everything is out of the basket and on the blanket, you pour two glasses of wine and hand him one. He reaches out with his mittened hand and takes it with a smile that's starting to hurt his cheeks in the very best way.

"What looks good, pup?"

"Everything," he beams.

You smile, pick up a strawberry, and bring it to his lips. He leans forward just a little bit to take a bite of the sweetest, juiciest berry he's ever tasted. He feels the juice drip from his mouth, but doesn't dare dab at it with his new mittens. He reaches for a napkin, but--

"You've got a little something..." you whisper, leaning in close. Ralph freezes. Your tongue meets the trail of juice dripping to his chin and drags upwards until you meet his lips in a strawberry-flavored kiss.

You pull away with a warm smile, but Ralph needs more.

"You missed a spot," he breathes, as soon as he remembers how.

You laugh and give him another kiss, longer this time.

Is this really his life? Unscheduled picnics with a perfect wife who loves him and surprises him and makes him things and feeds him treats when his hands hurt and never gets tired of kissing him?

You've made Ralph Penbury the happiest husband in the world.

#writings of despair #ralph is worth it #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader

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sherifftillman · 1 year

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busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 14.2k

A/N: Jesus. H. Christ. Thank you for your patience. This chapter broke me. Goodnight.

(Also please note there is a new content warning in the tags! There is slight drug use in this chapter.)

PS i know, it's a lot of angst, and you guys are here for the cute fluffy timey-wimey boy. i promise next chapter is far nicer, i just didn't want it to get boring, is all. <3

It had been so long. He’d been doing so well. You thought you could just happily leave Ralph at home and he could stay out of trouble. But several missed calls from your friends alerts you to the incident that the group chat were talking about:

With a heavy sigh, you text your co-manager, asking them to cover for you so you could leave for what you call a “family emergency”. Thankfully, you’ve had to do it often enough in the past that they just assume you’ve got a really chaotic younger sibling or something, but it still gets a little frustrating that it’s his third month of living with you and you’re still having to be on call 24/7 for him. Surely by now, he could have googled whether it was safe to microwave a whole egg. And how on earth do you accidentally go live?! There are steps to it, it’s not as though it’s a button he can accidentally press. Only Ralph, honestly.

Still, you can’t stay mad at him. Not when he’s sat on the kitchen floor, muttering to himself in exponential anguish as he reads every cleaning product label to try and determine which one is best for the task at hand.

You spot his phone still resting on the counter and look at the screen in confusion. “How are there still three and a half thousand of you watching my wall?!” You ask into the camera.

Ralph sits up on his knees to look at his phone, too, and you hold back laughter at the camera’s shot of just his hair and eyes above your kitchen counter. “What do you mean, watching?”

“You’ve been broadcasting for hours, mate. Say goodbye to your followers!” You chirp as you hover over the button to end the feed.

Ralph sinks back to the floor with a defeated, “Oh, fiddlesticks,” and you stop the livestream.

You look at the bottles he has surrounding him and hold your hand out, “Here, gimme the green one.”

He hands it over to you, and gets up quickly, moving over to sit on the sofa in silence. You sigh in resignation, looking over at him as he hugs a cushion to his chest. Quickly wiping down the inside of your microwave, you tidy up the rest of the kitchen after him and sit on the other end of the couch, cross-legged. “Hey.” You crane your neck to try and catch his gaze, but he refuses to. “Hey. You know I’m not mad at you, right? It’s just all the stuff I’ve had going on today all balled up into one big outburst. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“I suppose you shall be on your way back to work now,” he mutters into the cushion.

You shake your head, “Nah, already forfeited the rest of the day as unpaid because the other manager’s covering. Usually I’d swap it for another shift, but we’re going away next week, so…” You shrug. “No chance there.”

Ralph looks up, the pillow obscuring everything but his sad puppy-dog eyes. “G-going away? Wher- who wi- how lo-”

“Where, Brighton,” you tap one finger. “Ever been?” He shakes his head. “Ah, you’ll love it.” You tap another finger, “Who with, please, like I have any other friends,” you scoff, “so don’t worry, you won’t be meeting anybody new -”

Ralph’s eyes widen in a double take. “Wh- I’m going, too?”

“Well, I clearly can’t leave you here with me, can I?” You ask pointedly, jerking your head behind you towards the now clean microwave. “At least the sofa in the Brighton house pulls out into a proper bed size. How long,” you tap a third finger, “we leave here tomorrow afternoon, leave Brighton next Saturday morning.”

Ralph suddenly finds all his energy, “And just when were you planning on letting me know to start packing?!”

“Well, tomorrow morning, I thought, it’s just a case of shoving some clothes in a bag for a week. It’s not like we’re going to the Ritz or anything,” you shrug. “But we’ve got time to get a head start now if you really need it.”

“If I need -” Ralph scoffs at you as he leaps off the sofa and into the bedroom. All you can do is sigh as you watch him sprint across the room.

~~~

You probably should have figured out, with six of you taking three cars, that it wasn’t going to just be six of you. Grace’s new boyfriend - who you barely recognise yourself until Ralph, of all people, informs you that they’d met on his first night out with you all - and Scott’s partner, who Ralph is thrilled to be reunited with.

It does raise some questions to you about everyone’s sleeping arrangements, since usually Grace and Anna share the biggest room, leaving the three other bedrooms in the house for the rest of you. You’re about to suggest that you sleep on the sofa here, too, to give Ralph the bedroom, when instead you watch Connor throw his bag down on it.

You frown, “Oh, I was gonna stay down here to give Ralph a-”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Anna interjects, shaking her head. “I already worked out, it’s better if you two take the biggest bedroom, the two couples share a bedroom each, and then I tried to fight my case for the sofa, but Connor insisted on it.”

“What a gent,” you comment jokingly. You wonder if Ralph saw it that way, but daren’t look in his direction, in case he takes that the wrong way and assumes you want him to react.

“So - so this bedroom that we’re staying in, is - is there -?” Ralph stammers, his eyes squeezing shut and opening at a rapid pace. You’ve been able to recognise that as a nervous reaction of his.

“Pretty sure there’s one bed, yeah. But if that’s too scandalous for you, I’m sure I can get a fold-out or something,” you explain, but Ralph’s eyes quickly look around the room before he shakes his head. He can’t quite make eye contact with you.

“No, no, it’s quite… Nothing wrong with being bedfellows, right?”

You shake your head, “Sure, whatever you say. Let me take our bags up - Connor, since yours are there, why don’t you show the newbies around the house and the rest of us can get our rooms set up?”

Connor agrees and you sling the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder and pick up the suitcase Ralph’s using to take them both up the two flights of stairs to the biggest bedroom in the house.

You really should make work on unpacking yours and Ralph’s clothes for the week, or at least getting your toiletries out, but the bed calls to you like a siren from the deep seas. Throwing the bags on the floor, you launch yourself onto the bed. Oh, sweet spongy mattress! An actual duvet that covers all of you and then some! Pillows without an armrest digging into the back of your head!

The drive down was tiring enough that you can feel your eyes getting heavy. You try to get up again, to fight the urge to sleep too early and miss out on your first night traditions.

You’re awoken by a gentle pressure shoving your wrist down into the bed. And then your elbow. And then your shoulder. You eventually figure out that the sound that accompanies it is Ralph calling your name. “Ah, you’ve awoken! Welcome back.”

You sit up suddenly, “Oh Christ, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to do that, oh god, what time is it?!”

“Not to worry! Everybody is waiting to go to dinner, they said this is the time you all go anyway,” Ralph assures you. You notice that he’s stood bolt upright, but with his head turned almost upside down to look at you. You let out a sleepy chuckle as you start moving out of the bed, and Ralph quickly darts out of the room. You try not to read into that too much.

You’re greeted with a chorus of, “Alright, sleepyhead?” “It lives!” “What time d’you call this?!” You flip your friends off and fake going back up the stairs before running ahead to the front door.

Once you’ve all got your food, you sit where you always do - a bench that overlooks the pier, all its illuminations making it obvious against the dark sea beneath it. Knowing you’re finally on holiday, surrounded by the people you love most in the world, in your most favourite place, enjoying one of your favourite traditions as your lap cradles the bundle of warmth that is your portion of fish and chips as you hear the gentle crashing of waves. Knowing that all your troubles are currently almost a hundred miles away. You feel a sense of contentment, a rare zen moment. You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm.

And then, ironically, a voice laced with disgruntlement interrupts your train of thought. “Is this really any way to spend a night? You can barely see anything, this is by far the least dignified way to eat, and I fear I may come down with pneumonia before the night is through,” Ralph complains.

“Eat quicker, you’ll warm up quicker,” you prompt him. “This is why I wanted to get you a hat, but you didn’t ‘trust me’,” you mock with a smirk.

“That’s ’cause I’m your favourite to shop with, innit, Ralphie?” Connor calls from further down the bench.

“The guy who bought him clothes that feature an Angry Birds and Star Wars crossover does not deserve bragging rights,” you scoff, to laughter from most of the others.

“Ignore that lot, mate, here, have mine for now!” Connor takes his hat off and puts it on Ralph’s head. There’s something rather endearing about Ralph wearing a hat with ear flaps, but even more so when they’ve folded back on each other enough that they stick out to the sides.

“Are you quite sure?” Ralph asks, eyes wide and pleading.

“Yeah, shoved my hand in my pocket earlier and realised I had a beanie in here, too,” Connor grins as he puts another hat on his head.

“You’re such a twat,” Grace laughs, and Connor acts offended.

“Excuse you! I was merely looking out for my best mate here!” Ralph’s face lights up at those words.

Trying not to focus on how cute that is, you grin, “Did you wanna share the bed with Ralph, then?”

Connor’s mood shifts at that. He suddenly shakes his head and goes quiet as the others hurriedly change the subject. They tell Ralph about how you’ve all hired out the same house from Airbnb for years now, how the tradition of visiting every year came to be, asking Ralph if he’d ever been to a beach before. He vaguely recalls going to “a sandy beach” when he and his sister were very young, for a few years. You’ve had a few heart-to-hearts with Ralph about his father’s death and his mother’s admission to rehabilitation, but he doesn’t bring it up to the group. You still give his hand a gentle squeeze, to let him know that you understand if he’s getting upset. He wriggles his hand against yours until your fingers interlock, and he squeezes back, using his free hand to pull the ear flaps of his new hat down to cover his.

You keep hold of Ralph’s hand as you walk back to the house, just to let him know that you’re still there for him - though you’d be lying if you weren’t also letting yourself indulge in the idea of you both taking a romantic late-evening stroll along the beachfront, just a little. Of course, usually when you allow yourself these small delusions, it ends up warping the little grievances the two of you have into something far more infuriating than they probably actually are - something’s got to bring you back to reality, after all. But you can’t see any reason why you’d possibly get far enough to snap while you’re on holiday.

Once you’re back to the house, and you and Ralph are making your way upstairs, you tell him to get himself changed in the bedroom while you do so in the bathroom. You grab some pyjamas from your bag, as well as your washbag, and head in to get yourself ready for the night. A quick silent pep talk with your own reflection to remind yourself that your walk back with Ralph was strictly platonic, and you’re ready to go back out to the living room for some games with your friends before bed.

As you step out of the bathroom, you hear a short, shrill shriek. Your eyes dart immediately to Ralph sat on the side of the bed who, despite the fact that he is wearing an undershirt, still censors his chest from view with his pyjama shirt, staring at you with wide eyes.The shade of his ears is unusually deep compared to when he’s usually surprised. Assuming you’re paying far too close attention to such a minor detail for no reason, you snort out a laugh, tell him to meet you downstairs and go to meet the others.

Though Ralph doesn’t understand a lot of the games you all play that rely heavily on pop culture knowledge, he’s a big fan of those that rely on skill and/or general hilarity, since his cluelessness usually helps him there. You advise that he take a backseat upon the suggestion of Jackbox, much to the others’ chagrin - you just feel as though he isn’t quite ready for that, yet. You’re proven right when he constantly asks you for clarification on just what makes a particular answer funny, or when his ears burn up at a particularly racy answer. Connor had expressed interest in showing Ralph the ropes when it came to some games, and you tried to encourage him to go over there, but Ralph insisted on you being his teacher. You assume it’s because you know better than anyone how to explain things to him, but internally your imagination is playing a very dangerous game.

When you awaken in the bed the next morning, Ralph is still sleeping soundly next to you. He’s almost at the edge of his side of the bed, back turned to you. You slowly make your way out of your side and sneak past him, out of the room and down to the kitchen.

“No Ralph?” Scott asks as you walk in.

“Hello to you, too,” you jokingly flip your friend off and he smiles sweetly in return. “Nah, he’s still sparko. Dunno why.”

“Didn’t he sleep well?” Anna frowns.

You shrug. “Couldn’t tell you, I slept like a log!”

Ralph stirs from all the way upstairs, assuming from the open door that you’d already left the room but still staying still just in case. He slowly starts to roll around to look, allowing himself a sigh of relief as he sprawls out on the bed. He’d only slept once he’d finally exhausted himself from trying to stay as deliberately far away from you as possible.

His mind would wander, of course. How peaceful you must look when you sleep. How wonderful it would be to awaken with his face a mere touching distance from yours. On occasion, he’d hear you take an extra deep breath and he’d get giddy at the realisation that he was breathing the same air as you!

That’s when he’d rein it in. Stupid Ralph. That’s exactly what scared Lauren off. It’s been months since that week, and still he hasn’t learned. In the present moment, Ralph pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes and bares his teeth in frustration at himself. Desperate to think of anything other than the thought of waking up next to you just as the sun shone against you in the most perfect of ways, making you appear even more radiant than usual. Of your eyes slowly opening as you wake. Ralph finally gives into temptation and indulges himself in the idea of your sleepy smile, in this dream universe where you’d be happy to wake up to see him. And what a perfect sight that would be.

He takes himself to the bathroom, picking up his razor and twirling the handle around between his fingers and thumb, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He’s already shaved his facial hair clean off on several occasions. It keeps him remembering who the real Ralph Penbury is. You and your friends always complain when he does it, though. They tell him that he’s not Our Ralph when he looks like that. He’d love nothing more than to be Their Ralph. Especially to you. What was the point of being the other Ralph? Going back to a penniless, friendless, loveless, overall fruitless life?

But you’re always reminding him, this isn’t his era. This isn’t permanent. You’re always preparing him to go back to his own time at any point. A part of Ralph - the stupidly optimistic, nay, deluded part - hopes that it’s simply a fear of the unknown, that messing with time in such a way could cause devastating effect. Though what a stupid thing to think, in what universe would Ralph have such a massive impact?!

With a heaving sigh, he tidies his facial hair up to a minimum while keeping it intact. A part of him still hesitates, still debates going further. It's what you'd want. Except also it isn't, because you always tell him he looks better with it. Ye gods, you're a confusing one.

Ralph gets himself dressed and makes it downstairs in just enough time to catch breakfast being dished up. You whisper something to Scott as soon as Ralph approaches, and Scott hands him a plate with a warm smile alongside everyone else eating, before setting everything up to make another portion for you. Ralph wants to frown, but he doesn't want to draw attention to himself, either. Why would you immediately sacrifice your breakfast for him, when he's the one who came downstairs later? Why would you see him being fed first as more important? Why not let him make that decision? He would have been happy to wait.

You feel Ralph's eyes boring into you as he scarfs his eggs down, but the one time you try and look back at him he acts as though he's trying not to get caught. You wonder what he could possibly be thinking, until Anna starts talking about the day's itinerary. This is good, this is distracting from the awkwardness, this is what the holiday is all about.

All wrapped up for a brisk November morning, you all head out to the pier, as per tradition. As Ralph gets face to face with the rides, he looks up at them, horrified, and you frown. "Are you scared of rides, or something?" He looks back down at the pier floor, watching the waves crash beneath a gap in the planks, with more fear in his eyes. "Hey, hey," you soothe, "eyes up." Ralph eventually tears his gaze away to look at you. "I promise it's all safe. It's not like those travelling funfairs where everything gets wheeled in and out, everything's built to stay here. Alright?" He still seems distracted, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, "Wanna hold my hand again?"

Stupid. What happened to not feeding the delusion? What happened to distancing yourself? What happened to being realistic? You know exactly what happened. Those damn baby-cow eyes. Hopefully Ralph'll say no. It'll be too scandalous for him to hold hands in public with people all around, surely.

But no. His fingers very carefully slide between yours yet again as he squeezes your hand gratefully. You keep both of your hands relatively tucked away from the others' view - they've already got you two sharing a bed, the last thing you need is having to constantly try to convince them all that you and Ralph aren't an item. Despite the fact that it would certainly be a good thing for you, a constant reminder to you that it can never happen, you know your friends well enough by now to know that they’d only take it as denial. That they’d keep pressing to ‘uncover’ whatever they believe you’re hiding. And you’ve gone this long keeping your one big secret from them, what if they keep digging until they find that out?!

Your train of thought is interrupted by a loud giggle from Ralph. He sees the photo op cutout of a cop and robber chase scene and he’s delighted by it. “Wanna pose?” You let go of Ralph’s hand to take your phone out and hand it to one of your friends as you both run behind the photo stand. Ralph finds the resulting picture absolutely hilarious.

“I always wanted to do one of those,” he muses as the pair of you hang back for him to once again hold your hand, to your own chagrin. Why couldn’t you have offered to link arms? That’s friendly enough. Can’t really be misconstrued. His smile, small but contented, melts your frustrations away, if only to add to them later on as you’re walking with him.

“Did they not have people taking your photo for you, even, in those days, then?” you ask quietly, so as not to be overheard.

Ralph half-shrugs, “There were cameras, you know. Far bigger than those little pocket ones everyone has now!”

“Yeah, I think I know of them. Big box things, someone would have to stand under a curtain and hold out a thing to press to take it, right?” you ask.

Ralph holds back his laughter as he replies with amusement, “By a thing to press, do you mean a button, by any chance?”

You pull a sarcastic face at him. “I’m leaving you stranded here,” you joke, tugging him in a particular direction to show him you’re not serious. “You’re spending too much time around me, I think. Starting to sound like me and everything,” you shake your head.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Ralph asks in a small voice.

Trying not to overthink what else that could mean, you shrug, “Well, I s’pose if I’ve a part to play in you being able to tell your sister to shove it, then not really. But using my own brand of sarcasm against me?” You tut, again shaking your head. “I’ve created a monster.” Ralph laughs gently at you as everyone stops at their first ride: the Turbo roller coaster.

Everyone laughs at the shade of green Ralph turns. “I promise you, mate, it’s far scarier down here than it is up there,” Connor tries to reassure him, but Ralph is fixated on the loop in the track.

“Honestly, Ralphie babe, that is the tiniest loop you’ll ever go on. It’ll be over before you even know it, and by the time it is over, you’ll love it, promise!” Grace holds her little finger out to Ralph, who stares at it with fearful eyes for a few beats before linking his own, to everyone’s cheers.

You allow your hands to be a little less obscured, under the guise that Ralph is only scared of the ride and so you are providing a temporary comfort. Anna also rests her head against Ralph’s arm, and Scott places a comforting hand on his shoulder, at your invitation. “The more of us that comfort him, the better, right?” you explain. “Plus, if there’s any… Prying eyes…” You look around anxiously. “At least they can’t assume that Ralph and I are dating just ’cause we’re stood together,” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly. “I don’t need that sort of attention, it’s bad enough on socials.”

You don’t see Ralph’s change in demeanour. What was a quiet excitement mellowed amongst the fear of the ride, turns to full-blown dejection. Of course you’d be embarrassed to be associated with him. Who wouldn’t be? No matter what era he’s in, he’s still Ralph.

Anna interrupts his train of thought by rubbing his arm, “You alright, Ralph?” He nods, pushing a smile up his cheeks. “Nervous?” She asks, and he nods silently. She hugs his arm tight. “Honestly, there’s nothing to it.”

“Yeah, you’ll be a thrill-seeker like the rest of us in no time!” Scott grins before nudging you and Ralph each. “You two should get a photo on the Crazy Mouse for the flat!”

You shake your head, “Come off it, like either of us would want a photo of us being flung around like that! Right, Ralph?” Again, he nods without saying a word. Your brow furrows, “Are you okay? Did you want to sit this one out?” He shakes his head. “Sure? We can just go get food if you would rather watch this lot go round first and then we can go later,” you offer, but he shakes his head again.

“Besides, it’s not like it’d be the worst photo of him out there,” a completely strange voice from the other side of the queue barrier makes you jump.

“Excuse me?!” Scott exclaims.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you all! We just saw Ralph, and then you, and really wanted to get a photo, if that’s okay?” They ask you. They seem innocent enough, just asking for a picture, but you still can’t help but stand there awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m not really into that side of things, I only got my socials to make sure people are being normal about him,” you shrug them off before adding, “and to reward you all with some extra content if you’re all behaving!” They laugh, and you turn to Ralph. “What do you say, do you wanna take a photo with some of your fans?”

Ralph approaches the barrier and leans over it to pose for the photo, pressing his lips together into a smile as he holds an arm around his first in-person fan. “My friends and I just think you’re absolutely hilarious!” They smile up at him.

“Oh, please,” he laughs, flustered. Though he has his new hat on, you can guess what’s happening beneath it. “My lack of knowledge of technology doesn’t necessarily make me hilarious, anyone could do that.”

“Nah, there’s a sort of… Natural charm about you. Plus, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re really cute. Even in that photo that’s going around.”

Ralph sputters nervously as the rest of you exchange glances. You manage to hide your seething rage from your friends, though you feel it boring through your eyes as they fixate on this person. “Ah, don’t be so silly! You’re far too kind. Um, is that your friend over there waving you away?” He asks as someone approaches, thankfully dragging their friend away while talking about spotting a Twitch streamer as they head in the direction of some poor sod wearing a black and white face covering. You wonder whether that’s their ‘thing’ or if they’re doing it to avoid detection. You wonder if you’ll have to do that with Ralph at some point. His internet fame is becoming less and less of the laugh it first seemed to be with every day.

“You alright?” Anna again checks in with Ralph, who looks slightly bewildered still.

“Should I have responded differently there?” He asks.

You’re quick to answer, “No! No, I think you did the right thing, there.” You then hurriedly follow it up with a, “I mean, dating fans is never a good idea, right?”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, that made me uncomfortable,” Connor cringes. “You handled it way better than me, mate.” Ralph feels a sense of pride at his words. The line starts to move and soon enough, you’re all getting into carriages yourself.

You make sure you and Ralph are in one near the middle, so he feels safer. Once you’re all strapped in, and the attendant is sure Ralph is, too, you see him already squeezing his eyes half-shut in anticipation. You poke him gently and hold your hand out again. “It’ll be here if you need it, okay?”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, I wouldn’t want to be a -” Ralph starts, but as the coaster jolts into motion he quickly grasps your hand tightly.

Ralph’s half-laugh/half-scream serenades you throughout the whole ride, especially at the loop. Once the ride brings you back upright again, you look over at him. “Was that so bad?”

“Boy, that was exhilarating, wasn’t it?!” He beams, and everyone else cheers for him from their own seats.

“You did it, Ralphie!” “We’re so proud of you, babe!” “Reckon we’ve awoken the thrillseeker in you?” Ralph’s too giddy to answer any of those.

You can barely get him to stand upright without his legs turning to jelly, unless you get him to hold your arms while you hold his. He falls into your arms with a giddy laugh, and you gently shove him onto his own gait. “Easy, tiger!” You giggle. “God knows what you’re gonna be like on the other rides.”

Once he sees the Crazy Mouse coaster in action, that green hue in his skin returns, so you decide to build his courage up a little more. His face simply turns white when he sees the ghost train. Scott notices and rolls his eyes, “Oh my god, Ralph, don’t even worry about it, this is literally the least scary ride on here.”

His partner pipes up, “Yeah, there’s scarier creatures on the merry-go-round than there are in there!”

“I wonder if they’ve put the face back on that animatronic from last year or not?” You ask, before looking over to Ralph, who looks horrified. “It’s unintentionally the scariest thing there, and it’s not even that bad. Trust me. Remember?” You hold your hand out, wiggling your fingers. “If you need it.”

“What if… People assume?” Ralph asks, trying not to spit the word out with the venom that wants to follow it.

You shrug, “I think your face justifies your need to have someone hold your hand. If you’d rather, you can sit with Connor or Anna, I was just suggesting -” He takes your hand again in silence, and you walk him over to queue up at the ghost train.

The moment the ride takes you into a dark hallway, Ralph buries his face in your shoulder, and you pat his cheek comfortingly. However, as he starts to see the quality of the animatronics (“Was that one being held up by -” “Duct tape, yes.”) and experience how poorly timed the “jump scares” are, he relaxes far more.

You take him on the twister next, which only ends up throwing your body into his at every convenience, a consequence you’d forgotten in the year since you’d last been on it. Still, he seemed too invested in the adrenaline rush that came with being thrown around in circles to notice your proximity.

After a quick pit stop to eat, and reassurance to Ralph that you weren’t going straight back onto any rides, you go into the arcade. Ralph’s face lights up along with all the games as you explain what ones are. He excitedly tells you that he recognised the fortune teller machine and a strength tester game from his own youth.

You let the others go on ahead as you and Ralph pay for a go on the fortune teller. It tells you, “A smile is worth a hundred frowns in any market!” You look at Ralph with the biggest smile you can muster, and he returns with one of your favourite expressions of his, the big fake animatronic-style smile that could rival the fortune teller. “And lucky for you, the great Zoltar sees much happiness ahead for you!” You bite your lip at the irony. Does that mean Ralph's happiness, that he’ll be returning home soon? Your happiness, that he’ll be staying? Or is it just a randomly generating machine?

It prints off a fortune and you read it together: You may be riding the winds of change. Things may at times seem to be out of touch. Soon they will come to a better order. As the blessings of health and fortune have a beginning, so they must also find an end. Everything rises but to fall. To make sense of all this, you will find the answer is to be found in how well you relate to people. Looking at the big picture will help shape your long range plans. If things are not always smooth remember that he who could foresee affairs but three days in advance would be rich for thousands of years.

You blow out a long breath of disbelief at how weirdly on the nose that seems to be for you both and quickly pocket it to find the others. Grace is trying to get her new boyfriend to win her a stuffed toy on the cranes. Scott is trying to finesse a coin-pusher game while his partner and Connor play a dance mat game behind him, and Ralph leaves you to watch in awe as Anna plays a pinball machine. She tries to explain the mechanics of it all to him, but it seems to be going entirely over his head.

You play your favourite game for a while, trying to win as many tickets as possible, when Ralph soon joins you as well. “Any luck with pinball?” You ask, and Ralph shakes his head.

“I wasn’t sure how to play it, I didn’t really seem to be doing anything, rather just pushing an awful lot of buttons for the sake of it,” he answers.

“Sounds like you were playing it right to me!” You laugh. “What do you wanna do now?”

“Well,” he says, excitement obvious in his voice. “I saw one of those photo booths around there…”

You gasp, “Yes! Let’s do it!” before looking around with disappointment. “Ugh, how are we gonna fit everyone in, though?”

“Perhaps we can get individual ones with people across the week?” Ralph suggests.

“Alright,” you nod. “Wanna get some practice in, just us?” Ralph nods back at you, and you both head into the booth.

Once you’ve paid for it, Ralph asks, “Now how does it all work, again?”

“Right, it’ll tell you when - oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan as it takes a photo of you mid-sentence, and Ralph stifles a laugh. “Okay, quick, when’s it taking anoth- ahh!” Another snap takes you by surprise, and Ralph doesn’t attempt to hide his amusement this time. You throw your hands up in disbelief, “Well, this is a waste now, isn’t it,” before collapsing into laughter yourself.

“I am sorry,” Ralph frowns at you once all four are taken, and you wave him off.

“Don’t be! I should have set us a game plan from the beginning.” You decide on your poses: a normal, smiley one; a goofy-grinning one; one with both your tongues sticking out; and one where you kiss his cheek. You promise him that it’s not at all scandalous to pose in this way, and that between Grace and Scott, at least one of them would want a photo with him like it anyway so you’re simply getting him geared up for that. You’re promising yourself that more than him, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You end up posing for the first one with your heads touching as you smile gently into the camera. He’s not giving his usual uncomfortable smile, or his disappearing-lip act. It’s just a nice, natural smile. Which is immediately replaced with a fake smile so big, he has to hold himself up on the bench with both of his hands to hold himself at an angle worthy of the grin on his face, which you mirror. When you tell him, “Tongues out!” yours pokes straight out towards the camera, but he lets his loll out to show off the flat of his tongue to the camera instead. You remind him to look ahead for the last one by pointing at the screen, and then holding the cheek furthest from you to push it closer to you, feeling his freshly trimmed down stubble scratch at your lips as you feel them press against the warm flesh of his cheek beneath.

Once all four are done, you quickly get out to make sure both strips are still there to collect. Thankfully, nobody else has seen them, and you pick them both up to study them. You try not to focus on the bottom photo of the second strip, instead looking at the total disaster that is the first strip. Most of them are blurry and far from flattering, but the final one. What is it with the last photo with you two?! You’re laughing, as is Ralph, but the way Ralph is angled, you could just as easily fool yourself into believing that he’s looking at you as though he’s madly in love with you.

As he emerges, he asks, “So, were those first ones completely unusable?”

Quickly tearing off the bottom photo to pocket it, you crumpled up the remaining three and throw them in the bin. “Yeah, pretty much! Here, hold onto these ones, though, and we can put them on the fridge when we get back home.”

Home. Do you mean that to mean your home is Ralph’s, too, or are you speaking on your own terms? Neither of you know, to be honest.

Your friends reconvene around you, and you tell them of yours and Ralph’s plan for each of them to get a mini photoshoot with him, what with it being his first time on this holiday with you all. Everyone happily accepts getting their own photo ops in with Ralph, and you love watching how everyone poses with him. Your personal favourites are Anna teaching him how to throw up deuces as they pull funny faces, Connor teaching him how to make hand horns as they stick their tongues out, Scott and his partner both kissing each of Ralph’s cheeks, and Ralph’s feigned disgust as Grace drapes herself over her boyfriend.

After all that excitement, you decide you’ll return to the rides another day. Instead, you find a nice little Italian place to eat that’s taken over an old cafe you had used to love coming to, but this new restaurant has an even better vibe than its predecessor. That, and Ralph learning how to eat spaghetti through trial and error is hilarious, especially when he decides that the best way is to simply find the ends of as many strands as possible and slurp them all up. The rest of you make a game of picking a strand each and seeing which one lasts the longest.

On the way back, Ralph gets recognised again. Thankfully, this person knows better than to flirt with a total stranger, though Ralph still seems astounded at the whole experience. This fan says something about being able to replace their icon from “the explosion photo”, and so, remembering the one from earlier mentioning an unflattering picture, once you’re all back at the house you look through Ralph’s follower list and burst into laughter.

It seems as though his fans have taken a screenshot of his disdain after microwaving the egg and made it their profile pictures. Some have left it as is, with your kitchen in the background. Some have added further explosions and other phenomena in the background. Ralph is the only one who doesn’t see the funny side, the disappointment returning to his expression.

With a sigh, you promise him, yet again, that there is no need to be upset. You’re not upset with him, the flat was easily cleaned, the microwave remains functional. You understand that this comes from years of being raised poorly, but having to constantly remind Ralph that you aren’t mad at him, is ironically the thing that frustrates you the most about him.

The next day, after again waking up to Ralph practically on the edge of his side of the bed, you decide to go to the Lanes to explore some of the vintage shops. Mostly, for your own amusement, you want to watch Ralph react to what is considered “vintage”, but you know you’re going to have to rein it in around everyone else. The day flies by in a montage of trying on ridiculously old clothes, ones that even Ralph turns his nose up at, trying to find the most cursed old toys in every shop, and Ralph trying desperately to stifle his excitement every time he recognises something from his own time period. Ralph gets recognised again by a young, tall blonde boy and his shorter brunette friend, though those two soon get accosted themselves, which allows you to get Ralph away to the safety of a quieter shop.

After your shopping excursion, you return to the pier to play some more games, this time from the attractions around the pier. Thankfully, Ralph seems far more confident walking on it, so there’s no need for you to offer any hand-holding services - although it does already feel strange walking around with both hands empty. You manage to win a stuffed animal on a throwing game, and Ralph decides his skill set is best utilised playing hook-a-duck - though he throws the person running the game off of their rhythm when the prize he asks for is to keep the duck itself, as Ralph personally has no use for stuffed animals. The person running the game, totally baffled, ends up letting Ralph keep the rubber duck, which he seems thrilled about, placing the hook over his finger and letting the duck swing from it with great delight.

“I think I get why cats like him so much,” Connor comments from where he’s stood just behind you as you watch Ralph. “You know how you can buy them all the expensive toys they want but they just wanna play in the box?” You snort with laughter in agreement. “He’s just one of them.”

While Ralph insists on everyone referring to the duck by its name, Clarence, he apparently draws the line at your joke of offering to pay for him to shoot a photo booth reel with his new friend. He looks at you with disapproval at that one.

You still utilise Clarence in his own way, though. Everywhere you go from that point onwards, you take a photo of the duck in that area, and then post it to Ralph’s Instagram story for him, though you only do so once you’re no longer in that place, for obvious reasons.

That evening, at the house, Connor tells Ralph he’s got a surprise for him, and to close his eyes and hold his hands out. Your heart swells when you see that Connor, who had excitedly spent the best portion of an hour in a music shop, has bought Ralph his own ukulele. Ralph looks close to tears at the gift. “Oh, Connor, I couldn’t possibly -”

“None of that, you can and you will,” Connor states simply while pointing at him, and Ralph shrinks down in defeat, opting instead to look at the ukulele with marvel. You all spend the night listening to Ralph play his chords, everyone occasionally offering lyrics to the tunes he was playing. God, he fits in so well with you all. It’s going to be so heartbreaking to tell them all when it’s his time to leave.

You wonder if the window of opportunity will only be open while you’re away. It’s a risk you’ve had to take to make sure he stays safe, since he literally only proved days ago that he still can’t be trusted unsupervised. What if you miss it? Would he resent you? Would it cause some insane rip in the time-space continuum? There’s really not a lot of solid research into this whole time travel business.

The next morning, you’re shocked to awaken to Ralph’s face dangerously close to yours as it rests on the inner half of his pillow. You could count his eyelashes, they were that close. You could connect his freckles, they were that close. His lips twitch ever so slightly in his sleep as you’re studying his face. His face that’s so close to yours. His lips that are -

You quickly take yourself out of that trance and practically throw yourself down the stairs, you’re that quick to leave the room, and those thoughts.

Ralph awakens, sadly, from a dream where you’re happy to have him in your arms to find himself near enough in the middle of the bed. He wonders exactly how he got there. You’re already awake, because of course, you always are. You don’t lie awake for almost an hour every night trying desperately to stay as rigidly far away from the centre of the bed as possible.

When Ralph arrives for breakfast, the group have already decided that today is more of a lazy day. They’ll go out later, of course, but there’s no rush. Just a day spent at the house, playing more board games and listening to both Connor and Ralph playing the ukulele as Connor teaches him how to teach himself actual songs. You even post Ralph’s first photo dump to his Instagram account:

As fun as it is to get out and experience another city, especially getting to do so with Ralph for the first time, you make just as many memories on this rest day. Memories like Ralph not only playing Jackbox for the first time, but somehow winning several games. Memories like watching Grace and her boyfriend playing board games as if they’d been married for years, even though she wrongfully accuses you and Ralph of playing the same way.

In the last hour of sunlight, you realise something. “I haven’t found my rock for this year, yet!”

Ralph looks at you strangely. “Your what?” Before answering his own question. “Do you mean that shelf full of stones in the bedroom has a purpose?”

“Yes! Every year, I find myself a cool-looking rock to take back. It’s tradition,” you explain with a gesture. “Plus, it gets us all out of the house at least once.”

“W’re all goin’ out la’er,” Connor groans from where he lays across the sofa he’s been sleeping on, beneath a mountain of crisps he’s been making his way through.

“At least twice then, lazybones,” you comment, but almost everyone else is happy to stay home.

Everyone except Ralph, who hurriedly gets his shoes on. Of course, it’s just you and Ralph. Alone. Far away from home. Nothing could possibly go wrong, here.

Thankfully, you’re on a mission, here. You can distract yourself with the task of finding the best looking rock on the beach. It can’t just be the first cool rock you see, oh no. It has to be the best one. That’s always been your rule.

Ralph tries to help, but honestly, a puppy would be less excitable. He keeps grabbing the first rock he can, running up to you to ask, “Is this useful?” to which the answer is almost always “no”, and so he simply throws it back to the ground and looks again. There are three separate occasions where he shows you ones he’s already asked you about. But he’s having fun, and he looks adorable, and maybe tonight you’ll be able to delude yourself into a happy little dream where Ralph’d be happy to do anything for you. Though perhaps not quite anything, that sort of dream would have to be reserved for a time when you’re not sharing a bed with him.

You thump the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as though you’re trying to knock the idea out of your brain. There is absolutely no time and place for those kind of thoughts.

At one point, Ralph sees a young child throwing rocks one at a time into the sea, with great delight. Ralph also seems highly entertained by it, and when the kid looks over at him, he decides to join in by grabbing a whole handful of rocks and throwing them all into the water at once. The kid thinks this is the most hilarious thing they’ve ever seen before. Ralph seems happy enough to keep doing it until the kid’s parents take them away. You’re happy to just sit back on the ground and watch Ralph, taking photos and videos of this moment.

Ralph soon joins you where you sit, laughing breathlessly. “Oh, what a joy that was!”

“You certainly looked as though you were having a blast,” you simper. “Though if you threw away the ultimate rock amongst all of that, I may never forgive you,” you add in a sarcastic deadpan.

“I would completely understand,” Ralph nods back, unable to keep up any monotony for any amount of time before snorting with laughter. He looks out at the horizon, pointing out how the sky looks now that the sun is starting to set. “Don’t see that very often in London,” he frowns.

You shake your head, “Nah, it’s usually too cloudy. Not that different here, we’ve just caught a good moment. Looks nice, doesn’t it, all reflecting on the water and that?” You cock your head to the side and sigh happily. “Could sit here for hours watching it.”

Ralph tenses up, trying desperately not to think of how your head just rests against his arm, the weight of it still pressing down on the padded sleeve of his coat enough for him to feel it. He swallows hard, “Yes, it’s too bad that the sunset doesn’t last long at all, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” you add with a soft smile before sitting up. “That’s why I wanted to try and get to the beach now, to get to see it at least once. ’m glad you came with me,” you muse before suddenly realising you’re treading into dangerous territory here. To save yourself, you quickly add, “Y’know, so that you get to see it too, while you’re still here. Since you were saying you haven’t been on a holiday like this since you were a kid. Maybe you can go on more of them once you’re back.”

“Maybe,” Ralph replies emotionlessly.

You sit in relative silence as you watch the sky together. You get a “golden hour” selfie with Ralph, mostly to teach him about it, though he says that he doesn’t see much difference between that photo and most of the others you’ve taken in the past. After realising that he’s brought it with him in his pocket, too, you spend a good few minutes laughing along with Ralph as you try to find the most photogenic angle of Clarence the duck to add to his photo collection.

Once the view stops being quite so aesthetically pleasing, you stop off at the pier again to buy some sugared doughnuts to share with Ralph as you make your way over to the pub that you plan to meet your friends at. You love this pub as another of your holiday traditions, because Wednesday nights are karaoke nights. You wonder whether Ralph’ll feel confident enough to sing along to any modern songs. The mental image of Ralph taking to the mic to sing along to Taylor Swift with his entire chest is enough to make you laugh out loud, which confuses Ralph, but you opt to not tell him, merely shaking your head and covering your mouth instead.

To your disappointment when you get there, the pub no longer does karaoke, but Wednesdays are now pub quiz nights. You still stick around for dinner, and after a couple of drinks, you end up signing up for the quiz, for a laugh. None of you expect to get very far, but Grace’s boyfriend really pulls through with sports questions, and even Ralph ends up answering the question that ultimately wins the whole quiz for you, one about a specific style of shoes that had rendered the rest of you clueless.

Everyone ends up watching your group celebrating Ralph. The leaders of the second-place team, an older blonde man and a dark-haired woman he refers to as his wife, even join in with their own congratulations.

A pair of young women offer to buy Ralph a drink, to which Connor starts encouraging Ralph to go with them. You very quickly make conversation about the rest of the week’s plans with Anna and Grace to distract yourself, but Ralph doesn’t seem interested, much to your confusion. You look around at your friends, who all seem to be exchanging their own looks to each other, but none of them seem to want to look at you. You shake your head and make your way to the bathroom, scoffing indignantly at the two men who barge past you to get to the door next to you.

After a few minutes of silent pep talk to remind yourself that you have no right to feel bad if Ralph expresses interest in someone else, Anna comes in specifically to find her. After promising her a full eight times that you’re absolutely fine, you both head back out to the group, where Scott had brought along a game from the house that you can all play together. You notice Ralph isn’t there, but you don’t bring it up. You’re not his keeper, after all.

~~~

“Ah, ladies, this is quite an honour, obviously, but I am out with friends and it would be rather impolite to just leave them!” Ralph explains hurriedly to the two women who have approached him to congratulate him on his efforts.

“I dunno, your mate there seems pretty keen for you to come over,” one smirks in Connor’s direction.

“I must insist, I could never live with myself for taking advantage of such generous women as yourselves, though I am deeply grateful that you should wish to spend your night in my company! I’m afraid I’m very much not from around here, and so I would get frightfully lost without my friends to guide me home,” Ralph blabbers, getting more and more flustered.

“Maybe you can come back to mine, then?” The other asks, looking suggestively at him as she touches his arm. It’s a gentle contact, but it electrifies Ralph at high voltage as he yelps, pulling it away.

“Truly flattered, but I am a gentleman first and foremost and so I simply must decline such an offer, and I shan’t be staying long enough to court you appropriately, but I wish you both very well in your endeavours!” Ralph practically shouts as he turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the toilets.

Ralph walks in on quite a sight. Two men, reasonably bigger than himself, bent double over the sinks. “Pardon me,” Ralph calls out, with the intention on simply throwing some water on his face as a wake-up call of sorts, but the men jump up in surprise at the sound of his voice.

“Ain’t nothing to see here, mate, jog on,” one says, trying to square up against Ralph.

“Sorry, gents, just wanted a quick go at the sink, and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise!” He smiles brightly, completely oblivious. He catches sight of a line of white powder along the counter and chuckles to himself as he recognises it as cocaine, thinking back to previous parties he’d held at Penbury House.

The first man growls, “Find something funny?”

“Oh, just reminiscing. It’s been a while since I’ve seen… You know,” his eyes flash over to the substance on the counter. “Just fondly remembering old times.”

“Oi, ain’t no way this toff’s a user,” the second man shakes his head.

The first one snarls with a smile, "You a copper?"

"Heavens, no!" Ralph laughs. "Not to worry, gentleman, I'm no telltale, your secret is safe with me!"

"I'm not buying it," the second one looks at Ralph with an upturned nose. "I reckon he's a snitch."

"Well, only one way to prove it, innit," the first one grins uncomfortably at Ralph as he gestures towards the counter. "Care to join us?" he asks in a voice that mocks Ralph's.

“Well, if you insist, I - straight from the counter?” Ralph asks in disgust, but the chorusing snarl answers him quite adequately. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers!”

Just as he finishes the first line, he’s interrupted by a loud, “RALPH! Fucking hell, get your head out of there! What the fuck is wrong with you two dickheads?!” Connor grabs Ralph by the back of his jumper and throws him back. “You alright? How much have you had?”

“Oh please, it was barely even a full line, it’s nothing,” Ralph insists, to both Connor and Scott’s baffled expressions.

“We don’t have time to unpack that right now,” Connor throws Ralph in Scott’s direction at the emphasis, causing Ralph to trip over his own feet through both of the steps it takes to get there, and Scott catches him, trying to get a good look at his eyes. Connor turns to the two men. “Alright, look.”

“Don’t know that I feel up to much talking,” one snarls.

Connor pulls a sarcastic expression. “Oh yeah, beat a guy up in the same room your coke’s still out for the world to see, good one(!) Shut the fuck up, yeah? We didn’t see anything, neither did you. Just - I mean, what the fuck were you thinking, giving your shit away for free, to him?!”

The man shrugs, “Had to call his bluff, innit? Thought he was a narc.”

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you,” Connor sneers, remaining sarcastic as ever. “Just… Clean up and get the fuck out of here, yeah? C’mon,” he gestures for Scott and Ralph, who’s already starting to bounce on the balls of his feet, to get out.

~~~

Once you finally see all three boys re-emerge from the bathroom, as you’d asked the other two to check on Ralph, you notice something off amongst them. Ralph seems in far higher spirits than the others. You get up to meet them halfway and notice something white and powder-y on the edge of Ralph’s nostril. “The fuck is that?!” You ask incredulously.

Scott looks over and quickly pulls his shirt sleeve down to wipe at Ralph’s nose with it. “Nothing!” He lilts, though his expression as he flashes his eyes at you confirms your worst fears about it. Scott mutters, “We need to get him to a hospital.”

“No!” You and Ralph chorus loudly. You shush the man and hurriedly lie, “No, you’ve not seem him in a hospital, he’s fucking useless, faints the second he gets in, he hates it all, honestly. Give him here, just - I’ll take him back to the house, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I promise you all, I am fine, I’ve done far more than that in my years!” Ralph states. “Can we please just return to our night?”

“Respectfully, mate, you don’t know what this shit’s been laced with,” Connor warns. “I’m with Scott, I think hospital’s the best place.”

“And I’m telling you, it really fucking isn’t,” you hiss back at them. “He just needs to get back home so he can’t make any more bad decisions.” Ralph frowns at your words, but you ignore him.

“Alright, we’ll pack up,” Scott starts, but you stop him.

“No, no.” You sigh, “Look, it’s still your holiday, too. I’ll take him back, I’ll keep you guys updated, but you lot just enjoy the night without us, okay?”

“We really don’t mind,” Connor shakes his head, but you persist.

“Honestly. Just…Hang on a second.” You return to the table, spinning a tale of how Ralph’s got a migraine and so you’re going to take him home as you put your outdoor clothes on. Everyone still at the table calls out well-wishes for Ralph as you make your way back to him, informing the boys of what you’ve said, and you lead Ralph out of the door into the brisk evening air.

You walk in silence, not knowing what to say. You’re concerned about Ralph, obviously, but you’re also just so mad at him for doing something so stupid. Who accepts some rando’s offer of coke off a random pub sink?! What the fuck was he thinking?! And now, everyone else is enjoying their holiday while you spend it the way you spend every single day - babysitting a 25 year old man who acts without consequence because he doesn’t bear them, you do. You may as well be at home with him.

“You know,” Ralph finally breaks the silence as you walk up the street that the house is on, “I’m not a child. I knew what I was doing.”

You sigh, “Free drugs is a massive red flag, Ralph. You could have gotten into some serious shit.”

“Well clearly not if we’re just going straight back to the house,” he points out.

“Okay, Ralph, what do you want me to say when we get to the hospital? ‘Hi, I’ve got a man here who needs drugs pumped out of his system. Name? Ralph Penbury. Date of birth? February 1st 1901. Oh, what’s that? You’ve got him marked as being dead for the last 96 years? Then what’s he doing stood here?!’” Ralph goes quiet up until you get to the front door, where you press your hands into your face and groan. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Ralph. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, that wasn’t fair. I know you can’t help… That bit. But you can say no to drugs, surely?!” More silence. With a sad sigh, you unlock the door and let Ralph go ahead. “Want me to make you a cup of tea?” You ask, and he nods before running up the stairs.

You kick yourself internally for upsetting Ralph before then arguing with yourself. Why should you be apologising? You were right. It’s your holiday, too, and he should have thought more carefully. You have every right to be upset, yourself. But you’ll forgive Ralph for that, the way you always do, because you already know you’re going to lose him at some point, and that’s going to be painful enough, and if you can put it off for as long as possible, you’re going to.

He pads back into the kitchen in his pyjamas, looking at you with his big doe eyes as you hand him a hot mug full of tea. “It seems to be the ordinary stuff,” he states, “because it’s only just about affecting me. Same way it always does.”

“Did you… Do it often?” You ask slowly. “To cope with stuff?”

“Heavens, no, it’s no coping mechanism!” He shakes his head. “Cocaine’s always been a staple at Penbury socials. It’s… Acquiring and using it was always the thing people liked having me around for,” he explains quietly as he takes a big sip from his mug. “It barely affects me these days, just makes me… More likeable, I suppose.”

Of course there’s a dreadfully sad story to go along with this. Just more fuel for you to feel bad about snapping at him. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he continues drinking. “You know how much we all like having you around the way you are, Ralph. I mean, we might be able to make a citizen out of you yet if we just claim you as Scott and his partner’s adopted child!” You joke, and Ralph lets out a small, breathy laugh.

“It’s… Hard to believe, still. Sometimes. Sorry,” he mutters, leaning down to rest his head against yours.

“You have to trust us, Ralphie,” you squeeze him gently, “that’s part of having friends. You like having us around, right?” He nods violently. “Right! So part of making sure we stay around is knowing we want to. If you don’t trust that people wanna be your friend, they’re gonna assume you don’t want them to be.”

“Is that what Scott and Connor will think of me, now?” he asks sadly.

“Well no, because they don’t know… That, what you’ve just told me.”

Even more quietly, he asks, “…Do you -?”

“Are you really asking me if I want you around?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. “Have I not done enough to prove my case there?!”

“More than,” he admits, still quiet. He takes another long sip and asks, “Does the TV here have all the films that we would have back at home?”

“Wanna watch Little Shop of Horrors while you come down?” You ask, amused, as Ralph nods in response. You let him curl up to lay his head on your lap as you both watch the film from the sofa Connor’s been sleeping on, Ralph’s foot tapping against the arm of it along with each song.

The rest of the gang return just before the movie ends, and they’re all happy to see that Ralph looks in relatively good condition. The pair of you retire to the bed soon after. Too tired to change out of your day clothes, you simply crawl into your side and sleep, forgetting to wish Ralph goodnight in your exhaustion.

You all decide that Thursday shall be another day on the pier, with Friday being a packing-up day due to the night out you have planned, so that you don’t have to worry about packing with a hangover and can head back as soon as you’re feeling well enough to on Saturday.

You start the day out in the arcade again, firstly making sure that you, Anna, Grace, Scott and Connor get your annual photos in the booth as per every year for as long as you can remember. You show Ralph and the others photos you have on your phone of reels from years past, to which they take great delight in seeing you all in younger years. “It’s nice to have friends that last,” Ralph smiles, and it makes your heart sink. Comments like that help your brain to justify keeping Ralph around regardless. He needs to be here, with his friends, with the people he loves and who love him. There’s been no major consequence so far. You start to wonder if there ever would be.

You quickly pull yourself from that train of thought, instead opting for the certainty of being out with your friends. Grace pulls Ralph towards the dance mats, itching to teach him, and you allow yourself to stand back with Grace’s boyfriend to watch them. Ralph may stomp on each arrow with such force that the ground shakes beneath you, but there’s no way you can comment on that when his face is lit up that much.

You lose track of him when Connor pulls him away to show him a shooting game, instead opting to go for one of the coin-pushers yourself. It seems as though Ralph also didn’t last long with that particular game, nor does he have the patience to wait for your tactical plays as he starts grabbing coins from your pot and placing them in the slots from behind you excitedly. You giggle uncontrollably as he keeps putting coins in and smugly adding the occasional, “See?” when a whole pile drops.

It’s only when you feel your back collide against his chest that you’re brought back to your senses, and you tug at his arm until you’re standing beside him instead, trying to keep your tone playful with an, “Alright, then, if you wanna play that way, don’t let me stop you!” as you find another game that’s easy ticket fodder.

Eventually, you tell Ralph that it’s time for him to face his ultimate fear, that you’re all going to ride the Crazy Mouse roller coaster. He nods, still agreeing to go on it with you all, though he remains quiet. Once you’re in the line for it, you try and brush your hand against his again to let him know you’re there for him, but he makes no attempt to hold it. You hope it’s because he’s getting braver, but his stoic expression doesn’t exactly give you that impression.

Since today is warmer than the others, none of you had really decided to wear hats today, which makes the state you all end up in after being spun and thrown around the roller coaster track all the more hilarious. Ralph’s curls especially are in full force, sticking up in all directions, which the fans who recognise him today point out a lot. You notice there are more today than ever before and check his name on Twitter to see your suspicions confirmed - people are starting to publicly announce sightings of Ralph in the wild, which is leading to people congregating with the sheer hopes of seeing him out in the wild. You’re not sure how many more of these appearances you can take.

You return to the hook-a-duck stall so that Ralph can proudly show off Clarence to the man running the stall. A young man with a mullet pouts about how he was told that he wasn’t “allowed” to keep a duck, even though it matched the red beanie his friend is wearing even today. The man behind the stall simply explains that Ralph was more charming, to the hat-wearer’s amusement.

You go back to playing more games until the people working the arcade inform you that it’s nearly closing time. All of you band your tickets together and divide them fairly to redeem a prize each, though Ralph insists that he doesn’t get a share. He is more than happy with Clarence alone. If only you’d known sooner that the best way to placate Ralph would be to stick a hook in a rubber duck’s head.

Connor picks a box that contains fuzzy car dice, “for a laugh”. It certainly does raise a lot of laughs when he opens the box to find that the ones he’s ended up with are pink, but he shrugs it off. Scott and his partner pick out as many Pokémon cards as their tickets will allow them to, Grace gets a toy monkey with magnets in its hands and feet while her boyfriend picks out an inflatable guitar. Despite having already won a rather large teddy at the can game the other day, you take pity on another soft toy that clearly looks like it got into a fight with the manufacturer and came out losing, opting to take it home with you. Ralph looks at it fearfully, and you shake it at him jokingly.

Friday holds the weight of being the last full day away. Everything feels as though it's happening in slow motion, that it isn't in real time. It doesn’t entirely help that the day is filled with the mundane act of packing until the real thing to look forward to later tonight, which now feels eons away.

When it finally reaches lunchtime, you talk the others into getting delivery. “Whatever happened to the ‘we should get out of the house, lazybones’ mentality, eh?” Connor teases.

“Do you feel up to being there while Ralph gets accosted by fans again?” you ask bluntly. “Besides, you should see Twitter today, it’s obsessive,” you pull a face of disgust as you scroll through posts to show your friends.

“These people need Jesus,” pipes up Grace’s boyfriend.

“You said it, babe,” Grace herself adds. “Surprised they haven’t realised he’s staying here and started camping out.” Scott tentatively looks out of the window, but nods in relief to confirm that nobody’s waiting out there.

You decide to make it the feast to end all feasts, each of you ordering food from different places and all sitting amongst your plethora of food to talk about your highlights of the whole trip, compare photos and overall just enjoy each others’ company. Even Ralph seems to perk up, which you’re glad about. He’d been pretty reserved all morning, which makes sense given how dull the day’s events have been, but you’re glad to see that there isn’t something else keeping him quiet.

Finally, the night is upon you. Everyone’s promised that they’ll all be on watch in case anyone tries to approach Ralph, either weird fanatic or potential danger, so that you can just switch off and enjoy your last night before returning to London.

You feel as though you may get to really enjoy it when you catch the attention of a man who’s far from unattractive. He keeps making eye contact with you from where he’s stood at the bar and flashing his eyes in invitation. After a few pep talks with the girls, who seem a little hesitant at first but soon warm to the idea of you having a night where you finally get to flirt and be flirted with, and just get to feel special for a night. And who knows, maybe that’ll be all it is. Maybe you won’t even spend your last night back at the house. After all, what’s a holiday for if not to live totally differently to how you would at home?

When you finally approach the bar, he smirks, “Look who finally made a decision!”

“Look who’s already blowing their shot!” you reply in the same lilted tone, making him laugh. You exchange names and he offers to buy you a drink. This is everything you’ve been needing to fill your confidence gauge - mostly banter, with the occasional ice-breaker question and the more than occasional compliment thrown your way. And honestly, the way he already matches your wit without you constantly needing to explain yourself, or reassure that you’re joking, just makes him even more attractive in the moment.

Ralph watches on from a distance, absolutely seething. Of course, you deserve to be happy. He knows that. He knows that you clearly wouldn’t be happy with him, and that’s why you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length, constantly putting the time travelling situation between you and him. But Ralph absolutely cannot stand to see it happening in front of his eyes. And so, with nothing stopping him, he marches over to you and taps your arm. “Hello!”

Not expecting any interruptions, you jolt, “Jesus, Ralph, you scared the shit out of me! Uh, yeah, this is Ralph, my - flatmate,” you explain.

“That’s right, we live together back at home as well as here!” Ralph beams falsely at the other man. “So, what are we talking about?”

The man laughs awkwardly under his breath as he shuffles in place and you say through gritted teeth, “Uh, Ralph, do you think maybe Connor wants to talk to you?”

“Oh, heavens, no, he’s got a pair of young women on the go himself, the dog!” Ralph scoffs.

“Seems as though two is an awful lot of people for just one of him to manage. Think you could take one off his hands?” you ask, again trying to make it very obvious that you want him to leave.

He doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, though. “Oh, I’d only interrupt them!”

“How terrible that would be.” You deadpan, before addressing the man you’d been talking to. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” he tips his glass to you. “Don’t forget, it’s your turn to buy the next round!”

You shoot him a flirtatious smile and grab Ralph’s wrist to tug him away. “Listen, Ralph, mate, I think maybe… You should spend tonight more around one of the others, than with me. Yeah?”

“But what if I slip up and mention something about… The situation at hand?” he asks, gesturing at himself.

You tut exasperatedly, “I dunno, then maybe… Just really try not to bring it up? It’s not that hard, you haven’t done it yet. I just… I really needed this, Ralph. Please?”

“Are you going to leave me in the bed alone tonight?” he asks quietly. Sadly.

You sigh. “I dunno. Maybe? We’re all adults here, Ralph, you’ve spent long enough being able to sleep in my bed by yourself, I’m sure someone else’s won’t be too different.” You find Grace, who’s with her boyfriend and Anna, and park Ralph with all of them before returning to your date for the evening.

Ralph’s only half-listening to whatever everyone else is talking about. His attention is laser-focused on that man. His hair is the same colour as Ralph’s, and it’s curly just like his, but there’s more of it. His eyes are the same colour as Ralph’s, but they’re obscured with glasses. He’s taller than Ralph, and he makes you laugh more than Ralph does, and if the cup he’s holding was made of anything other than glass, Ralph would have certainly squeezed it out of shape by now, if not broken it entirely.

While the girls take a momentary bathroom break, Grace’s boyfriend nudges Ralph. “You alright, mate? You look like the nerves are taking over. Wanna do a couple shots with me? It’ll take the edge off.”

Ralph agrees, hoping that perhaps the blanket of numbness over his brain that only alcohol causes will keep it quiet. Grace’s boyfriend has already paid for the shots when Ralph looks at them in horror. The last time he saw a shot glass filled with clear liquid, it resulted in all kinds of emotions. Still, perhaps it’s another clear spirit. Perhaps it won’t make Ralph feel the way he did that night.

Or maybe this is also vodka, and once both the shots that Ralph takes hit, perhaps he’s on his way back over to you. “Hello, again!”

You look at your date with resignation. He looks back at you with sympathy. It’s him who regards the new third wheel in the conversation, “Alright, mate? Ralph, isn’t it? How you doing?”

Ralph pays him no attention at all. “I fear I have once again gotten myself into a predicament,” he tells you.

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can get yourself out of it,” you flash warning eyes at Ralph to get back to literally anyone else.

He shakes his head, “No, no, it’s, um. It’s something you had explained to me. What are the different drinks that make me feel different things, again?”

You hold your hand to your head. “Ralph, mate… Do you feel as if something’s been put in your drink, or…?”

“I’m not sure what that would feel like,” he frowns, “but you know these things better than I do!”

“Here, look,” the man you’d been talking to stands up straight. So tall. “This has been great. Really great. But I think your flatmate needs you tonight, so… I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You shake your head dejectedly. “We literally go back to London first thing in the morning.”

He frowns at you sympathetically. “You’ve got a phone though, right?” You take it out to find that it’s out of battery.

You curse internally, “Knew there was something I forgot to do tonight. I’m so sorry.”

“Well. Perhaps in another time. It was lovely meeting you.” He looks Ralph up and down with a slight look of jealous defeat. “You too, mate,” he adds to Ralph through gritted teeth before stroking your arm once more, letting it linger for as long as possible until he walks away.

Something in you finally snaps. Every part of you is just… So done with Ralph right now. And he has the audacity to perk up again once it’s just the two of you?! “What the fuck was that about, Ralph?!”

“Well, I was just going to say that Grace’s… Gentleman friend had bought me some of those shots and I think they’re the sort that have the effect on me that you remember better than I,” Ralph explains with a slight shrug.

You shake your head. “Nah, nah, there’s more to it than that. I made it very clear that I was hitting it off with him, and I just wanted a night where I could -” You cut yourself off, but Ralph feels the tension, soaking it in himself.

“Oh, go on and get it over with, won’t you?” Ralph asks, once again playing the sad card. “It’s obvious there’s things you want to say to me, just say them to my face, please.”

“Okay, you know that’s not fair when you pull that shit, because then it makes me feel bad when I am allowed to be pissed off at you!” you snap. “You want me to say it to your face?! Alright, how’s about this, then. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting, Ralph. I can’t even go on one night out and talk to one person that isn’t you, I - I didn’t sign up to be some random guy’s mother -”

“I do not see you like I would Mother!” Ralph defends, offence very obvious in his expression.

“Then why am I the one always cooking for you, always cleaning for you, always fucking working overtime because I’m paying for your bills and your food and your clothes -”

“Because, as you keep telling me, I’m not a real person here!” Ralph hisses through his teeth.

“It’s not just that, though, it’s the attitude that comes with it. You are so used to your little rich boy life that you don’t see how much I’m going through. My back is in constant fucking agony from months on that godawful sofa. I don’t get a single day off to myself anymore. I mean, fuck, you’ve had more dates than I have since you got here! I supported you putting yourself out there, even though it was one of the stupidest risks you could have taken -”

“Well, it’s a good job that didn’t work out then, isn’t it? Because once again, nobody wants anything to do with Ral-”

“Here it is again. I can’t just feel something, you have to also be feeling it twice as hard so that you’re the focus here, I - I can’t have anything for myself anymore!” you shout exasperatedly. “Not even one night where for once, I get to feel wanted. I - y’know, everyone fucking falls at their feet for you, you’ve even had people ask you out while we’re here! And nothing was stopping you if you wanted to! But the moment I want to indulge in the idea that maybe someone out there would show an interest in me -”

Ralph scoffs, “That man was only interested in one thing to do with you, and it’s much too vulgar. You deserve to be courted in the appropriate -”

“We’re not in the 1920s anymore, Ralph!” You press your fingers to your temples. “It’s not a bad thing for someone to just… Want you like that. And even then, let’s hash this out. Let’s say I could have been courted by him. You think someone like that is gonna think I’m worth sticking around for when I’ve got another man constantly in my shadow, fighting for my attention? I mean, fuck, what are you gonna do without me when you go back, eh?”

“Ah, again with the going home!” Ralph’s voice is audibly slurring by now. “It’s all you ever want to talk about with me, just tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. Tell me you can’t wait to be rid of me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! Far fucking from it! But I’m not gonna mess with shit we know nothing about, and putting everything back where it was is logically the best thing to do.”

Ralph looks on the verge of crying. “So, that’s it, then. I’m not even worth a -one, I’m just a -thing now.”

“No, that’s not -” You take a deep breath. “Look. We’re going off on tangents that don’t even make fucking sense now. I’m going back to the house. To the bed, don’t worry your fragile little head, I’m not gonna go stand on a street corner like the harlot I am,” you pull a face, blinking back your own tears. “Thank you for ruining the one week a year I actually look forward to.”

You storm away from Ralph, though you find most of the group congregated together at the bar. You stop by them to explain that you and Ralph got into a fight, that you don’t want to talk about it but could they please just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. They promise that they will, and so you head out of the bar, straight into one of the parked taxis and finally let yourself cry as it drives you back to the house.

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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rehfan · 1 year

Text

And now we have the moment you have been waiting for...

Chapter 9 of...

The Hat Shop Girl

Inexperienced!Ralph Penbury X Fem!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Summary: You were working as a clerk in a hat shop when Ralph Penbury walked into your life. Nothing was ever the same.

Warnings: 18+ and over only please. Eventual smutty smut - NOT for children! Non-consensual touching, implied/referenced drug use.

PLEASE DO NOT POST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER SITE. MY WORK IS MINE. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

If you want to read this and my other stuff, find this work on AO3

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10

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CHAPTER 9: Lessons in Botany

It was the matter of a minute or two when you heard the door close again and his footsteps bounding up to you. He was breathless, cheeks ruddy from the exertion and you smiled at him from across your sitting room. Beckoning him with one crooked finger and a devilish grin you slipped into your bedroom and began to unbutton your blouse.

He was behind you inside of moments, his outer jacket, coat, waistcoat, and hat already gone, no doubt deposited against the back of your settee in a neat pile. His hands were about your waist and his mouth was against your neck just as you turned on your bedside lamp. You had cut your hair into a bob weeks before which showed off your neck and framed your face and you were so grateful to not have to fuss with bringing your hair down for him. You leaned back into him, unbuttoning forgotten, one hand on one of his as it spread over your hip and along your upper thigh, the other at the back of his head, pressing his mouth closer, encouraging his kisses.

“I missed you so much, Ralph,” you sighed as your heart swelled with love for him. “Take me to bed.” The smell of him, the feel of him. It was almost too much. If it weren’t for his arms around you, pressing into you, the heat of his breath on your ear, you could have sworn it was another dream.

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmured. “I’ve been dreaming- hoping for this moment.” He whispered your name like a prayer and you felt yourself get wet.

Turning in his arms, his eyes were filled with the longing you had dreamed about night after night. His kiss was the same one that would be the last thought in your head as unconsciousness took you. His arms were just as warm and strong around you as you remembered, wrapping around you the same way the darkness of your empty bedroom would surround you and close in on you as you finally slept.

Tonight there would be no torture. Tonight your hands touched him, your skin on his skin. There was no rushing. You had all night. As his tongue moved against yours, you smiled against his mouth. You let the thought sink in. He was all yours. All night.

Instantly, you were ravenous.

You pulled at his clothes, a button skittering across the hardwood floor. You paused only a moment and laughed with him as the two of you rushed to divest yourselves of all those clothes.

Your bedsheets were as cool but not as silky against the skin as his were. You barely registered it because he was right there, hot hands warming you and cupping your sex eagerly as one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close for a deep kiss. He didn’t give you time to think before he pressed between your folds, seeking out your clit.

He hummed with satisfaction at the wetness he found there. “Such an eager girl,” he remarked. “I see now how much you truly did miss me.”

“I would never lie to you, Ralph,” you whispered to his skin, tongue licking at his neck and sucking a bruise into his pulse point. Your breath caught as he slowly circled your bud. “Yes yes yes.” The mantra repeated and echoed in your brain: yesandyesandyes…

His mouth found your breasts. Guiding one to his lips, he suckled there, steady and lovingly as you cooed praise into his ear. “So good, Ralph. Such a wonderful man. Ah! Oh I can’t w-wait for more, sweet boy. You’re going to f-feel so good inside me.”

He pulled off your nipple with a wet pop and with eyes blown dark asked gently: “May I see you? All of you? Spread out before me? Or is- is that not the done thing?”

He took your breath from your body with the question. “Oh, Ralph. It is very much the done thing. You may, my love. Please.”

He moved downward. It was as if he didn’t want to spook you. Like you were some wild creature who had walked out of the woodlands to grace him with your presence. You parted your legs for him with much the same attitude. He was such an innocent, you didn’t know what would offend him and the sight of you may just do that. Some men didn’t want to know what it looked like, only what it felt like. After all, blood and babies came out of there and those things had nothing whatsoever to do with a gentleman.

But there he was, showing you how different Lord Ralph Penbury could be as he knelt between your thighs, hands guiding you wider, more open than you’d been in an age. You smiled down at him, thinking of how proud Charlie would be of the both of you: you the teacher, him the student.

“It’s just like a flower isn’t it?“ asked Ralph, his dark eyes filled with wonder and amazement. “Perhaps that’s where the phrase “deflowering” comes from, eh? Only the petals don’t change, do they? The flower blooms forever.” He put out a finger and gently touched your clit, circling it again and watched you fall apart under his touch. “Goodness.”

Whimpering softly as he worked, your hips rolling, needing more from him as the seconds ticked by. Perceptive as ever, he asked, “What more can I do for you, love?”

“Fingers. Inside. Just one. Start slow.”

“Right! I remember this part."

He moved inside you as before, perfectly replicating what you had taught him all those months ago, finger in your cunt, thumb on your clit. As you gasped and sighed at the feel of him, he kissed your tummy. Soft, slow, barely-there kisses littered along your skin just below your navel, stretching from hip to hip. “Is this alright?

“Yes, love,” you said, carding a hand through his hair, the other gripping the sheets as he worked your clit inside and out. “And you can kiss me down there too.” He looked up at you in shock, his hands halting their movement.

“Pardon?”

Giggling, you explained: “It feels lovely to have it happen. But only if you want to, Ralph. No need to feel obligated.”

“I don’t- I just- It’s- um…” he said. As he mulled it over, his hand began to move once more.

“It’s alright, baby. No n- need to worry,” you soothed, your breath catching with his ministrations once again.

“No. No I shan’t shy away from this,” he said. “You said you would teach me and I am here to learn. I only hope-“

“You won’t hurt me,” you said.

“No, I worry that I won’t do it correctly,” he said, concern painting his features. “I haven’t seen you in months.” Here he placed another kiss to your abdomen. “I don’t want to lose you again.” Another kiss landed on your thigh. “I don’t want to do anything that would be the least bit imperfect.” His voice became softer as he kissed your inner thigh. “And you are so very precious to me.” His mouth found your vulva at the top of your slit and you whimpered.

“More, sweet boy. You’re right… there….”

“You smell so good,” he whispered. You felt him part your lips and kiss your clit. Your hips came up against him and you heard him hum again, Where he at first began softly and tentatively, he soon gained confidence and, obeying his instincts, his mouth took your clit in and he suckled there as he had on your nipple, his tongue pressing against you over and over in a rhythm your hips soon obeyed, ripples of pleasure moving through you.

“Fuck- Ralph! So good. So good, my love.” Your thighs burned and your toes curled. He was moving you toward orgasm as though he were born for it.

Then Ralph added a second finger.

The moan that escaped your mouth shocked you both, but Ralph pulled his head away with a concern that you quashed by pressing his head back downward. “So close, baby. Please. So good. So good,” you pleaded.

As he went back to work, the heat in your belly built steadily, his fingers hitting that spongy spot that drove you mad. You bucked up into him, your rhythm becoming more unsteady as your climax approached. Gasping, writhing and moaning were all you could do as you felt Ralph attempting to keep contact with you, spit mixing with your slick, wet filthy sounds coming from his mouth.

You felt yourself come all over his fingers as your hand cradled his head, hips pressing up against his hot tongue as it flicked against you and you cried out Ralph’s name with what air was left in your lungs.

Shuddering, you came down and he pulled away from you, gently removing his fingers. Through heavy-lidded eyes you saw him, face shiny with your arousal. He looked fucked out already and you hadn’t even touched him.

“Are- are you alright? Did I do everything alright?” He looked so deeply concerned, it broke your heart.

You raised an arm to him in welcome, too exhausted for words. He crawled on top of you, his cock tip pressing against your aching swollen folds. He gasped at the contact. ‘Sorry! So sorry! Have I- Are you alright?”

Glancing down between you, his stiff prick was thick and long and instantly you moaned, thinking about how good it would feel inside you. You wondered if he would want you to suck him off before taking him in, but judging from the look he was giving you and the breath he was unable to take, you thought he wouldn’t last past your first spit-covered stroke. You ran a hand through his hair. “It’s all alright, Ralph. You did beautifully. And now, I think we’d better take care of you.” You kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

It took a bit of effort, but you raised your knees and brought them up along either side of Ralph’s torso. “Get the tip slick and wet first. Rub it against me. Then carefully push inside. Slowly and gently as you have done.”

“L-like this?” he said. You weren’t sure if he stuttered due to nerves or whether it was his arousal making him a mess. Either way, it was so sexy. There was practically no trace of brown in his eyes as he panted his way through your instructions.

He pressed into you. “What a good student you are, my brilliant boy.” He made his motions steady, yet firm as you both waited for your body to allow him entry. He slid his tip into you with a grunt of surprise and instantly halted.

“Darling?” was all he managed. You could tell he was barely hanging on.

“God, Ralph. So good. Keep going. Need every inch of you.” You wrapped your legs around him and dug your heels into him, pushing him further inside you.

Slowly, your cunt swallowed his cock, and when he bottomed out, you relished the full feeling of him, his warm balls against your perineum. Ralph stared at you open-mouthed in disbelief. Was he really inside you? Were you allowing this? And not in pain? Not pushing him away? All these questions seemed to pass behind his eyes and all your aching heart could do was kiss him. You kissed away all doubt and fear. You kissed life into his hips as he slowly withdrew and pushed inside again. His tongue followed the rhythm his hips had set and you rocked with him, moaning your pleasure into each other’s mouths until yours fell to his thick neck and throat as he worked himself into you, Adam’s apple bobbing with every nervous swallow, eyes watching your every expression, on high-alert for any sign of discomfort or annoyance.

But there was none.

His cock was perfect and veiny, thick and pressing deliciously into you, and when you angled your hips just… like… that… “OH! My god Ralph! Goddamn it! Yes! YES!”

You reached a hand down to stimulate your clit as you sucked another bruise into his neck, humming as you did so. The coil spring inside you wound tighter and tighter as you felt his rhythm falter. You were truly surprised he had lasted long enough to give you another orgasm, but you weren’t going to complain. If anything, you were proud of him. As proud as you had ever been.

“Such a good boy. Such an amazing- FUCK! God, Ralph! Don’t stop. You’re so-so sooo perfect! Yes! YES!”

Ralph let out a strangled moan that melded into the shape of your name as he came hard inside you. You felt him, warm, wet, coating your walls. The sensation took you over the edge and you came again, soaking his cock.

You breathed into each other’s mouths as you came down, your tongue darting out to kitten lick and bite at his lips until he finally captured yours in a deep kiss.

“I know I don’t deserve you,” he said, burying his face into your hair, his lips brushing your ear. “But I want to thank you for this. For everything you are. For seeing me and offering friendship and understanding. For being so lovely.”

Your limbs felt loose and shaky, but you cradled Ralph with them just the same, cocooning him with your body and running soothing hands down his back. “You deserve me and so much more, my darling boy.”

“May I stay?” he asked, proposing himself up on his elbows as his cock slipped out of you along with some his issue mixed with your slick. “I don’t want to make you feel as though-“

You kissed away his next sentence. “Lord Penbury, I’m not letting you leave my bed any time soon.”

His smile could have lit up all of London. He dipped in for another kiss. His mouth found your neck and peppered a trail to your collarbone. He hesitated, frozen to the spot, before bringing his head up to look at you. “May I ask you… something else?”

“You know you can ask me anything, love,” you said, your fingertips tracing over his jawline and down to his shoulders. Indulging in the feel of him in your bed, in your life.

He dipped to kiss between your breasts gently before whispering into your skin, “May I see your backside?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you soon quelled it once Ralph’s ears got pink and he ducked his head down. “Ohhhh no, Ralph. I’m sorry. Of course, darling. You can see any part of me you want.” Obligingly, you turned over for him.

His arms bracketed you on either side as he balanced above you. You peeked back at him and saw a curious Ralph taking in your bare skin, openmouthed and adoring. His head fell toward you and out of your view, but the single press of his kiss to the skin between your shoulder blades made you whimper. How could you think of letting this man leave your life when he was this sweetly romantic without even trying?

Another kiss pressed to your spine; this one lower than the last.

Followed by another even lower.

And another.

Warm hands smoothed around your ass cheeks, Ralph’s feather-light kisses fell here too. You didn’t dare move for fear he’d shy away. He was experimenting. You closed your eyes and felt yourself melt into his touch, hands squeezing the globes of your ass, softly kneading them, his lips trailing along the skin there, skipping over the crack of your ass and onto the other side. His tongue came out to play next. It left a cool trail in its wake. You shivered. Gooseflesh broke out all over you.

“Alright, darling?” he asked.

“Mmm…fine. Just fine,” you replied, fascinated at how pliant you had become yet how completely stimulated by what he was doing. “So nice, Ralph. So soothing. So completely sexy.”

“Well then,” he said, sounding bemused, “allow me to continue.”

You wiggled your butt at him, teasingly. “Oh yes, please.”

His low chuckle had you wet again and you moaned gently. He placed more kisses to your cheeks, mouthing at the flesh, sucking it in, sloppily kissing, moving ever closer to your hole until he parted your flesh and the tip of his tongue licked right there .

You gasped. You were completely expecting it, yet you gasped. The touch was expected, the way he touched you was not: so softly you almost thought you imagined it. A ghost of a touch. A barely there promise of a touch. You wanted more.

“Let me help, lover,” you said and you lifted your hips helpfully, getting your knees underneath you and presenting your ass to him wantonly. You could feel your slick and what you were sure was his cum trickle out of you as you did so.

“Is that-? Oh,” he said.

“What is it, Ralph?”

“Wait- I just-”

You gasped again. His tongue lapped at your cunt. He was tasting you - and himself - as it came out of you. “Jesus Christ!” you managed as he continued to lick up your arousal. “Oh my God, Ralph.” You couldn’t manage much more thought than that as he hummed around your hole and lapped his way up toward your pucker, tongue circling the tight ring of it before pushing his tongue inside.

Soon, he was relentless. He nipped at your ass cheeks, tongue fucked your ass, and dipped back down to your cunt for minutes at a time, leaving you undulating, pussy clenching around nothing and whining for more. More touch, more pressure, more everything. You were about to break. You needed to come. “Ralph,” you whined, reaching back for his hand, “need you. Need your cock. Please, Ralph.”

“But you taste so good,” he murmured, clearly lost in the feel of you on his tongue. Pussy drunk, Charlie had called it. Only you were sure he was also drunk on your ass as well.

“Oh Ralph, please .”

He couldn’t say no to you. He settled himself behind you and, following your previous instruction, you felt him press the tip of his cock inside you. The tight fullness of him filled you with a slight burn that soon melted into ecstasy. Ralph groaned behind you when he bottomed out and settled himself inside. “Oh my sweet love, you are so absolutely amazing. You’re better than any bubbly. You’re more exciting than the best cocaine. And your wet, sweet center?” Here he pulled himself out to his tip and slammed himself back into you, his voice a feral growl you barely recognized, “bloody fucking wizard .”

His hips kept a rhythm that had your reeling within moments. His cock brushing that perfect place inside you over and over and over until you were gasping. Keening sounds came from you, mixing in the air with his panting behind you. The smack of your bodies as your juices flowed from you was filthy in the extreme. It was beautiful.

You had thought Ralph a quick study. You had been impressed with his initiative. But you were doubly impressed when he pressed fingertips to your clit as he heard you gaining your climax. “Come on, sweet lady. Let me hear you once more. It’s my favorite sound. Go on. Do it for me. Orgasm for your Ralph. Just for me. Such a good girl. A clever, beautiful girl. Let me hear you. My angel. Mine. My own.”

It was the ‘good girl’ that really got you, that pitched you completely over the edge. You cried out, praying your neighbors wouldn’t hear and call the law. He fucked you through your orgasm, fingers never letting up on your clit as you writhed and gasped, stars bursting behind your eyelids, a stream of babble coming from your lips. “So- fu- ugh … so good. My- my- my Ralph. Always. Mine. Fuck - Shit! Ah! My Ralph.”

He was gaining more stamina, but his hips were stuttering now. You were bursting with pride as you felt him use you to his own end. You grabbed the hand that was still circling your now overstimulated clit. “Suck on your fingers, baby. Taste me when you come.”

His hand vanished and you heard him hum, his other hand steadying himself on your shoulder as he thrust into you harder and harder, deeper and deeper, until at last he cried out your name, fingers now gripping your hips with bruising pressure, a desperate and shattered man. You felt his cum inside you, gushing there, mixing with your own and you knew the both of you were a mess.

He pulled out and away from you. “Oh my,” he said. “I’m afraid we may need a bath.”

Giggling, you turned on your side and patted the mattress space beside you. “In the morning, my love. Please? For now, let’s just be here with each other. Come keep me company.”

“Delighted,” he said and lay beside you, facing you, just like on that first night all those months ago.

Kissing him softly, sleep crashing over you like a tonne of bricks, you said, “You are the perfect lover, Ralph. You have such good instincts.”

“You flatter me,” he said, blushing beautifully once more. “Shall we turn out the light?”

“Good idea.” Snuggling into him and closing your eyes, you felt him reach past you and pull the chain on the light on your bedside table. He settled beside you, warm and comfortable. With the extinguishing of the light, the shadows showed up again. You happily ignored them.

~080~

Morning came all too quickly and you stretched and yawned and smiled into the face of a very awake Ralph. “You are simply beautiful.” That was all he said. But that was all you needed and you were down below the sheets and sucking his cock like it was your only occupation.

Ralph screamed and gasped, finally giggling with delight before making completely unintelligible sounds as you lapped at his balls and stroked him off, your spit coating your hand. Swallowing him down, he hit the back of your throat with a sudden thrust, causing you to choke.

“Oh GOD! I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” You pulled off of him, a trail of spit leading from his dick to your mouth, tears in your eyes.

“S’alright, baby. It happens. Let’s begin again, shall we? You let me know when you’re going to come.” Your tongue darted out and skimmed along his slit. He gaped at you, breath stuttering until you spit on his cock and he moaned. Opening wide, tongue out, you watched his face as his cock invaded you. You could tell he was using everything he had not to push his dick hard inside your mouth again based on the way his hips rocked. But he was as good as gold. He writhed, he moaned, he whimpered, he gasped, but his hips remained as still as possible.

Dear God, he was a natural-born thoughtful lover. It made you want to swallow more of him, but you were never that talented. Spit drooled from your mouth as you curled your lips against your teeth, used your tongue to press and tease, caressed his balls with your free hand, pumped his length with your other and otherwise did everything you knew in order to pull an orgasm from him.

It wasn’t long before he was a panting mess, moaning your name, hands hovering over your hair, lost entirely to his own growing oblivion. “Going to- Lord God! Going to- Please! God please!”

Hot spurts of cum filled your mouth. Swallowing as much as you could, licking up the rest, you stroked him down from his climax. “Such a good boy for me,” you said against the skin of his shaft. “So beautiful and thick and hard for me. And you taste so good, Ralph.”

He was blissed out above you, eyes unfocused and glassy, a sex-stupid grin on his face. He sighed a thank you to the ceiling as you crawled up his body and lay your head on his chest, straddling one of his legs.

You nodded off for a bit, thanking the Lord above when you woke that it was Sunday and the shop was shut. The sun was at an entirely different angle and Ralph had suggested lunch instead of breakfast. You didn’t care what you ate as long as it was food; you were famished. You bathed and dressed quickly, eager to leave to eat so you could come back and be naked with each other once more.

The chain across the stairs was still undone and you smiled back at Ralph saying, “You were in such a rush, you forgot the chain, sweetheart.”

“He also forgot to lock the front door.”

You froze. Ralph froze too. There, facing away from you in the chair reserved for customers trying on your wares, sat Lady Victoria Penbury. She had one of your latest creations perched atop her head and was gazing at her profile in the reflection, turning her head side to side, her expression unreadable.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel Ralph’s rising panic behind you. You could feel her judgment of you - even though she hadn’t even glanced at you. All you could do was wait.

She put the hat aside and turned to face you both. “Well! Aren’t the two of you a picture!”

Ralph came behind you and placed a warm possessive hand on your lower back.

“Such a lovely couple,” continued Victoria. “Both had your orgasms? Was he worth it, my dear? I hear my brother can be very stupid in the bedroom as well as in hat shops. I wonder if he’s twice as clumsy in the flat above a hat shop?”

“Your brother is the finest man-“

“Oh stop it, dearie,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Did he at least tell you the news?”

“About you selling the building? Yes. And I will have to no doubt pay more rent. And you’re pulling your support from the shop as well.”

“Oh no! Not that! I wouldn’t dream of kicking away this little earner. But I do have plans for changes,” she said, smiling. She looked like the cat with all the cream.

“Ch-changes?” said Ralph. “You said you wanted to wash your hands of-“

“That was before I saw what a tidy profit this place makes,” said Victoria, picking up another hat and admiring it. “And before I knew what percentage of it we own, you and I, Ralphie dear.”

“What?” you asked. You knew that he was a silent partner, but as for percentage of ownership, you hadn’t thought to ask. “What percentage? I own the shop, you’re just a silent partner.” You looked from Victoria to Ralph and back again.

“We own fifty-one percent,” she said. “And I’m no maths whiz, but I believe that’s the controlling interest.” She put down the hat she was handling and walked toward you. “I also believe that means that you-“ here she pointed at you, “work for us.” Her finger swayed in the air between Ralph and herself.

“Fifty-one…?” you asked and looked at Ralph, utterly at a loss. “What?”

“Oh dear,” said Ralph. “I gave all the writing up of the business documents to our lawyers to draw up. I suppose they were just looking out for our interests, and… I didn’t think-“

“No, dear Ralphie. You never do,” said Victoria. “I suppose I should thank you for it this time, though.” She gave you a wicked grin. “So you see, my dear. You will continue to run your little shop and turn a profit, or we will buy you out, sack you and hire someone who will.”

You were speechless.

“Oh! And before we go,” she said, hooking an arm into her brother’s and moving him away from you, “The biggest part of this deal is that you keep both your hands and eyes - and all the other parts of yourself - off my brother. No jumped-up little shop girl is going to seduce a Penbury into marriage. It’ll happen over my dead body.”

Your tongue was thick in your mouth. Ralph looked terrified and desperately sorrowful as he disappeared with his sister who never gave you a second glance.

The bell on the shop front door jingled merrily with their departure.

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