#ralph timewasters

[daleyeahson]

Girl On Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x best friend reader

Summary: Eddie tries to catch a sneak peek of what it is his best friend gets up to when he’s not around. He’s thrown for a loop when he finds out that you’re more than happy to play into his little game.

Warnings: 18+ smut// minors go on and get outta here. Male masturbation, mentions of female nudity, hidden camera, cursing, use of y/n just a little bit but mainly pet names, praise and degrading kink. If I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 4.4k

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A/n: Also, this is my first time writing a fanfic, let alone something with some smut in it. Let me know what you liked & what I can work on but please be nice about it! Thank you guys for the support and I hope you enjoy this as much as I do! P.s. I made the mistake of typing this on the notes app on my phone and just copying it to here so that’s why the spacing is messed up I’m sorry. I’d retype it all but it’s almost 3am for me so I’m gonna have to pass on fixing it for now lmao my b y’all x

It was Friday and you, Robin, and Nancy had all left to go have a girls night out. It wasn’t very often that the three of you had spare time to hang out all together, so when the girls called you last minute saying to hurry and get ready, you didn’t think much of it. You rushed to get dressed after hanging up the phone, throwing clothes all across your room in hopes of finding your favorite pair of jeans and whatever t-shirt you could get your hands on. Having just enough time to put your hair up in a somewhat cute ponytail and slipping your shoes on, you made your way out the door as Nancy and Robin pulled up to your place. You were so excited to hang with the girls again that you didn’t even give a heads up to your best friend, Eddie Munson.

You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up and living across from one another, you two had always been very close. When you were younger, you both would take turns on having a sleepover at one another’s place, and you still do. Having graduated from high school, you moved out of your parents home and into your very own apartment. Eddie still lived with his uncle Wayne since he was still in school and was now in his third year as a senior. Eddie was super excited when you told him you had gotten the apartment and even joked about coming over all the time to annoy you, as if you didn’t see each other almost 24/7 as is. You had laughed it off thinking he was just joking, but he wasn’t. He came over more often than not, which didn’t bother you a bit since you genuinely enjoyed his company, and eventually you just decided to have him a key made so he could come and go as he pleased.

Which brings us to now, Eddie making his way over to your place just like he does any other day. Even though he knew he’d see you tomorrow for your sleepover, he still wanted to hang out with you and just talk about his day. He loved how you would listen to him talk about whatever it was he needed to say, whether it be about school or the newest thing that’s happening in his Hellfire campaign despite you not understanding a word of what he’s talking about. All throughout your lives you’ve always been there for him for whatever he needed. It was one of the many things he loved about you. Your love and support for him is what slowly made him fall for you and here recently he’s been having trouble keeping you off of his mind. The last few years he’s been able to bury those feelings for his best friend, but with all of this extra time you two have been spending together, he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out without doing something. He doesn’t want to scare you away or ruin your friendship by confessing his feelings. He doesn’t know if you feel the same way about him and he can’t bare the thought of not having you in his life, even if you remain only best friends. So with that, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and jerks off to you most nights. Is that really the next best thing? No, definitely not. Does he still do it? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Eddie pulls up to your apartment and steps out of his van. He makes his way to your door and reaches for his key to let himself in. It’s quiet, which he finds odd since usually you’d at least have music playing in the background or something.

“Y/N?” He says stepping into the place and closing the door behind him. “Hello? You here?”

He makes his way down the hall to your bedroom only to find it a mess and you not in it. “Huh, that’s weird.” he thinks to himself.

He didn’t expect you to be gone without letting him know first. Not that you have to tell him, but he’s so used to you doing it anyway that it puzzles him that you hadn’t said anything. Maybe you had and he just forgot. With all that’s been going on in his head lately, he wouldn’t be surprised if you did tell him you had plans and he just wasn’t paying attention. He walks further into the room and takes a look around not really knowing what to do. He must’ve just missed you because he notices the candle you always have burning was still melted and had yet to harden back again. He turns to leave and as he does something catches his eye. Right there out in the middle of your floor there it was.. a pair of black lace panties. Eddie instantly blushes when he sees it and can’t help but think about you in them, or the opposite since here they are laying here on the floor. His mind wonders to the thought of you stripping from them while changing before you left. Tossing them off to the side and standing in the same spot he was but nude from at least the waist down. Eddie would give anything, do anything to be able to see you like that. He wanted it so badly. He needed it. He just didn’t know how exactly he would get it though, until it hit him. He has a camcorder somewhere in his van that Wayne gave to him years ago. He’s never had a reason to use it, but this sure was a damn good one.

He runs to the van and opens up the back. Like a mad man, he starts going through all of the junk he has in there. After a minute or so of searching he starts to get frustrated.

“God damn, where the hell is it? Why do I have so much shit in here?” He curses at himself wishing he didn’t keep things so messy. Finally finding it, he picks it up and smirks. “Aha, gotcha.”

He hurries back inside and into your room. Instantly, he starts to look around for a spot to hide the camcorder. After searching for a bit, he notices a shelf where you had some of your old stuffed animals on display. “Perfect.” He says as he makes his way over to it.

It really is the perfect spot for such a thing. From that angle he’s able to see almost your entire room, apart from the doorway. He doesn’t mind though, thinking there’s no way you would change clothes right in the doorway anyhow, so it wasn’t a big deal if he couldn’t see that part. He doesn’t turn it on just yet. He plans on waiting until he’s here during the sleepover so that the next morning he can grab it and leave before you have a chance to notice it.

Once he has the camera hidden, he makes his way out the apartment for the last time. Getting into his van he can’t help but feel guilty. He knows he shouldn’t be doing such a thing, but the growing bulge beneath his zipper says otherwise. There’s no way you’d know about it, right? He made sure you couldn’t see the camera from any part of your room, or at least he thought he did.

He makes his way back home and as soon as he gets inside he makes a beeline to his room to take care of his situation. Just the thought of him possibly having a chance of seeing you like that for real has him making a mess all over himself. Afterwards, he cleans up and decides to go to the living room to watch tv and have a beer or two. He figures he would just try calling you in a few hours to see if you made it home alright and to see where you went.

******

It’s about 10:30 at night before you make it home. The three of you would’ve stayed out later if Robin didn’t have work early in the morning. You make your way inside and take your shoes off at the door. Heading straight for your bedroom, you start to take your hair out of the ponytail. Instantly feeling that sweet sensation of having it down after keeping it pulled up for hours on end. The kind of relief that hurts just a little bit but feels so good at the same time.

You search your drawers to find some pjs to slip into then start to make your way to the bathroom. Just as you’re about to go in there, your phone rings.

“Hello?” You say hesitantly, not expecting anyone to be calling this late.

“Hey, sweetheart, where ya been?”

Eddie. You had forgotten to tell him you were leaving this evening. You felt guilty thinking he must’ve been worried about you not knowing where you went last minute.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you but it just slipped my mind. Robin and Nancy called and told me to hurry and get ready so we could have a girls night.”

“There’s no need to be sorry, I promise.” He reassures you. “I’m glad you got to go have fun with them. I know it’s been a while since you last had a girls night. Are you just getting in?”

“Yeah..” you said with a sigh, tired from the night you just had, “I was actually about to get a shower right before you called.”

Eddie has to stop himself from audibly moaning once you said that. He can’t help but think about how if he hadn’t called, you’d be in the shower all hot and steamy. Soap running down your body and between your breasts. Eddie finds himself fumbling over his words like a fool when he tries to speak again.

“Oh- well I-uh - don’t let me keep you waiting.” He chuckles. “I’m sure you’re wanting to hurry and get that over with before you have to go clean up the mess of clothes in your room, right?”

“Oh..” you say feeling slightly embarrassed that he saw the mess you had left in a hurry. “..you saw that?” Usually, you tried to keep things somewhat clean when he came over, not that he would mind because lord knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, you just didn’t want him to see things in such a big mess like that.

“Oh- uh- yeah, I did. I came by to hang out but I must’ve just missed you.” He laughs, “Don’t worry though, I didn’t stay long so whatever you may have laying about in your room, my eyes did not see a thing. Scouts honor.”

You couldn’t help but blush at the suggestive comment he made. The idea of Eddie thinking you’d have anything like that brought a familiar feeling to your core. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve felt like this because of Eddie or something he’s said. You two were very close so it was only a matter of time before one of you caught feelings for the other. What you didn’t know what that he felt the same way about you, as you did him. Yeah, Eddie would flirt with you but he was always the charming type. He was like that with almost everybody. Sure he called you cute pet names, but you just thought it was because of how close you two were. Just something best friends did, right?

“Eddie, first of all, you weren’t a scout, and second of all, even if I did have anything like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave it out in the open for just anybody to see.”

“Just anybody?” He said with pretend jealously, “who else has a key to get into your place?”

“You’re the only one, but with that big mouth of yours I’m sure if you did find something, everyone in this town would know about it by morning.”

Eddie gasp. “You’ve wounded me, princess. Truly, you have. I’m glad you think so highly of me to believe I’d stoop so low as to share such personal information with the common folk of this kingdom.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how dramatic he can be and decided to play into his little game. “If you live to see the morning light, I shall see you then for our annual weekend festivities, but for now I must say goodbye, Sir Munson, for this ass will not wash itself, unfortunately.”

Eddie let out a loud hearty laugh at that statement. “Alright, I guess I’ll let you go take care of that. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eddie, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning…Right. He’d be coming back over early in the morning so you guys could fix breakfast together to start the day just like you always did. Eddie couldn’t help but get nervous thinking about how far into the future that was. It was 11pm now and he usually comes by around 9am. Ten hours. Anything could happen in that amount of time. What if you found the camcorder? What would you say? What would you do? Would you never speak to him again? He knew he’d never be able to sleep with those questions floating around his mind. So he laid there in bed, wide awake. Ten hours, he reminded to himself, all he had to do was wait ten hours.

******

Somehow, Eddie managed to get around 4 hours of sleep that night. He was never one to willingly get up this early, especially on the weekend but for you he’d do just about anything. He got out of bed and took a quick shower to help wake him up some more. Throwing on his usually attire, he makes his way out the door and to his van, deciding against a morning coffee knowing you’d fix some once he got there.

Eddie pulled up to your apartment once again and slowly made his way over to the door. Before he could reach for his key, you opened the door and greeted him in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Good morning, sunshine! Are you ready to get this party started?”

“Y/n, please, you know I can’t get excited about the day without coffee first.”

“I swear, sometimes it’s like I’m best friends with someone’s southern grandpa. My own little personal peepaw.” You joked but it only made him send a glare over to you. He really wasn’t a morning person at all. “I’ve already got a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“You truly are the best…I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says as he walks by you towards the kitchen to pour himself a cup.

You closed the door and followed behind him making your way to the fridge. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.. so..” you said as you opened it, “what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? We could just have cereal if you want that instead.”

“Could we have French toast again?” Eddie asks walking up towards you, coffee in hand. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the last time we had it.”

Your back was to Eddie so you hadn’t realized just how close he had gotten. As you turn to face him so you could answer his question, you accidentally bump into him causing him to spill some of his coffee down your shirt.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelled while trying to hurry and pinch your shirt so the coffee wouldn’t burn you.

“Sweetheart, I- I am so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, it’s okay” you put your other hand on his shoulder to try and stop him from panicking, “it was my fault anyway I bumped into you. Don’t worry about it, really, it’s not a big deal. And to answer your question, yes we can have French toast again, but we need to get eggs first.”

“Uh- y-yeah sure. I can run and get them real quick.”

“That’s fine with me. While you go do that, I’ll go get a shower and change out of these clothes.” You said as you headed off to the bathroom.

Suddenly Eddie didn’t feel as bad as he did before about the coffee. It was like the universe itself was helping him with his mission. This was it, his one chance. Once he heard you start the shower, he hurries into your room. Making his way over to the camcorder hidden away, he turns it on and presses the record button. “Jesus H. Christ please let this work” he mutters to himself. With that he leaves to make his way to the grocery store and tries to keep his mind busy, thinking of anything other than what’s happening back at the apartment.

Eddie comes back with the eggs and your morning routine is back on track. You fix breakfast together like always and just spend the day hanging out. You didn’t do much during these sleepovers, but you both still enjoyed the quality time together. By the end of the night, you found yourselves cuddled up on the couch watching a few movies you had on hand. You had fallen asleep on Eddie, your back to his chest. He somehow manages to get out from under you without waking you, and he carries you into your room. Laying you down on the bed, he covers you up with the blanket and makes sure you’re still in a deep sleep before he walks over to the shelf with your stuffed animals. He reaches over and turns the camcorder off and forms a mental note to himself to make sure he’s up before you are so he can somehow sneak it back out to his van. Eddie climbs into the bed to lay next to you. Sharing the bed is something you always did even as children growing up so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. While in a deep sleep, you turn over to face Eddie and snuggle right up to him. He wishes you two could stay like this forever and not just on Saturdays when you have sleepovers.

*****

The next day you both wake up closer to noon rather than super early like before. Of course Eddie didn’t wake up earlier than you, who does he think he is? He’s thankful that you get up and head to the bathroom and as soon as the door closes, Eddie jumps up to grab his camcorder, practically running to his van and back in hopes of not getting caught. When he comes back in, he jumps at the sight of you standing there across the room from him.

“Whatcha doin’ big boy?” You say standing in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of water.

“I-uh- went for a smoke.”

“With your cigarettes on the table the whole time?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. He was starting to freak out. He had to come up with something quick.

“Not that kind of smoke, princess.”

“Ah, gotcha.” You finished your drink and turned to set the glass in the sink before returning your attention back to Eddie. “So, do you wanna go get something to eat? Lunch at the diner maybe? I’m starving.”

Eddie couldn’t let you in his van knowing what was sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t have time to hide it in the back again and he knew you’d race and beat him to the van if he agrees to go out.

“Uh, no not this time. I- I actually have to leave.”

“Leave? Why?”

“Wayne needs me. Yeah, uh he’s got this thing he’s been working on and he told me the other day that he would need my help today with it so um, I should get going.”

With a confused look on your face you stare at him suspiciously. The longer you take to say something the more he feels like he’s going to have a heart attack right here in the middle of your apartment. Finally, after what feels like forever to him, you say something.

“Yeah, sure, okay.. um, well I guess I’ll see you around then? Call me tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, of course I will.”

Eddie leaves your place in a hurry and speeds back home. He can’t believe he just did that. The thrill of it all. He gets home and rushes inside. Going straight to his room and setting up the tape to play, he sits on his bed with his back to the headboard. He was already semi hard on the drive home, just thinking about what was waiting for him on that tape.

After a few minutes, he could hear your bedroom door open on the video. It took you a second to come into the frame but when you did, Eddie thought he had died and went to heaven. There you were, in nothing but a towel, water still dripping from your hair and making its way down your body. He starts to palm himself over his jeans making him hiss at the physical touch he so craved.

“Shit.. oh fuck…”

Things had just started and he was already a whimpering mess. A small wet patch forming on his jeans just from what little bit he saw of you. He couldn’t take it any longer, needing to feel more he took his jeans and boxers off. His cock springing up to his stomach as he groaned, finally feeling some relief. He spit in his hand and started stroking himself, gathering up his precum from the head as he watched you walk around your room looking for new clothes to wear.

Once you found an outfit, you laid it on the bed and began to dry yourself off. Your back was to the camcorder as you removed your towel. Your bare ass was on display for Eddie now and he tries his best not the cum at the sight of it.

“Oh god, baby, fuck you’re so beautiful.”

Every once in a while he catches a glimpse of some side boob but he grows impatient wanting to see more. Speeding up his fist, he becomes a blabbering mess as he tries to find his release.

“Shit, oh my god look at you. Just look at you. You’re so god damn beautiful. Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby. Letting me see you like this? Sticking that ass out for me? God you’re so fucking good. So, so, good.”

He stops for a second to spit some more on his cock and then resumes the same pace he had before. At this point of the video, you had dried off and discarded your towel, but was still standing there fully nude for him.

Throwing his head back, he started to beg even more. “Oh fuck, princess, I’m getting so close. So fucking close.. please turn around for me baby. Please please please, I need to see you. All of you.”

Eddie knew you couldn’t hear him, but that didn’t stop him from saying it. He looks back up at the screen and suddenly, as if you had actually heard him, you turn your head slightly over your shoulder and he swears you were looking straight into the lens of the camcorder. Before he could process what was happening, you spoke.

“Be patient, Eddie, you’re not the only one who gets to have fun with this.”

Eddie instantly froze, hand not moving but still holding his cock. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? No, there’s no way you actually said that.

You turned around and Eddie let out a moan. Seeing you fully nude, your cunt on display right in front of him. He wanted to cum so bad. He needed to cum.

You start to feel yourself up looking directly at him. He starts to jerk himself off again at the sight of it all.

“Oh, you’re so dirty. Such a filthy little slut for me. I take back what I said about you being good. You are bad, very bad, sweetheart.”

Eddie could feel himself inching closer to his orgasm with every pump of his fist, his breathing gets heavy as he chases his release.

“Fuck, oh fuck, just like that baby, keep playing with those pretty tits of yours. Shit, oh- oh my god I’m gonna cum baby, I’m gonna fucking cum. You gonna let me cum all over those tits, hm? Ohhhh shit.”

Just as he’s about to cum he hears a noise come from the video causing him to pause what he’s doing yet again. The sound of your front door opening and suddenly a voice. His voice.

“Princess? I got the eggs! I’m gonna get started on breakfast, okay?”

You call out to him, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be out in a minute!”

You made your way closer to the camcorder and looked directly into it. At this point Eddie knew for sure he had been caught and wasn’t just imagining things.

“Looks like you just cockblocked yourself.. let’s see if you’ll have the guts to finally make a move in person. If not, I guess we’ll just have to wait until next weekend, yeah?”

You turn to go put your clothes on before quickly turning back. “Oh and by the way, next time you want to sneak and record someone, make sure there isn’t a big red light coming from the camera.” And with that you winked and started getting dressed.

Eddie sat there for a second, mouth hanging open in disbelief before quickly putting a pair of sweats on and grabbing his keys. He’ll be damned if he waits a whole week before making a move now after that stunt you just pulled.

******

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[emsgoodthinkin]

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Ralph vibes

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[ryan-waddell11]

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[mypoisonedvine]

all I can think about is reader being recently married to ralph and he gets such baby fever but only cos he loves to rut against you and breed your cunt like the submissive puppy boy he is 🥺

I changed this up juuuust a tad so that it can more easily be read as a sequel to 'who's a good boy?' but it also can be read as a standalone fic!

{word count} 2.4k

{warnings} smut, light pet play ('puppy' nickname and collar wearing but that's it), dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, multiple orgasms, premature ejaculation

Although you knew Ralph always wanted to be a father at some point in his life, you hadn't realized until you were engaged just how important it was to him.

Once or twice, while you were courting, he'd mentioned in passing a desire to have children someday.  It never felt like a hint or anything, just a genuine admission: my father was a little standoffish, I want to be more open when it's my time; or, Mother was so sweet, I can only hope to marry someone who would be so kind to my children; or, I know Victoria doesn't want any of her own, which is sort of a shame, because I thought I'd be a nice uncle.  Things like that. 

He mentioned it again when he proposed— he asked you if you'd be willing to spend your life with him and have a family together.  Of course, you said yes.  But the most important time he spoke about wanting a child was the most accidental; and the most unexpected.

"So good, you're doing so well," you praised him softly as he whined, bucking his hips up from the bed helplessly. 

"I-I'm not sure how much longer I can... h-hold back," he warned you in a gasp— but you just smiled, because he'd been saying that since the beginning and he'd managed to go this long without coming.  You squeezed his cock gently in your hand, making him whimper louder.  "Use your other hand, please?  I wanna see it."

You giggled a bit.  "Okay, puppy," you cooed; letting go of his stiff cock, it bounced up against his stomach and the light trail of golden blonde hair there.  You put your left hand on it carefully, and you watched him stare enraptured at the diamond on your finger; he sighed proudly as your fingers trailed lightly over his shaft, tickling and teasing him and his overly-sensitive cock.

"So pretty," he breathed, blinking quickly as you wrapped your fingers around him.  Already he was right back to losing his cool, only letting you jerk him off for a moment before he started to fuck your fist again and drop his head back with a choked sob.  "Please, please please—" he began to beg.

"What do you need, puppy?" you asked gently— because he always begged but very rarely explained what he was actually asking for.  You kept trying to remind him that if he actually asked he might get it, but he seemed to forget how until you encouraged him.

"I-I need—" he sniffled, "need t'come..."

"You wanna come on Mommy's hand?" you taunted, but he surprised you with his answer.

"N-no!" he whimpered.  You tilted your head in confusion.  "I wanna... come inside you..."

You tried not to laugh, because it seemed rude, but he was being quite audacious.  "That's a very special treat, Ralphie, what makes you think you deserve that?"

"I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it," he panted, "I just need it— please, Mommy, I-I wanna... I want a baby.  I wanna have a baby with you."

You stopped moving your hand— and when he tried to keep moving his hips, you clicked your tongue at him disapprovingly and he stopped with a guilty sort of look on his face.  "You really want that?  It's sort of sudden, don't you think?"

"Not for me," he admitted, face getting even redder.  "I've been thinking about it a lot, actually."

"And you're just bringing this up now?"

"Y-you know how I get," he batted his eyelashes sheepishly, "when you— when you touch me like that... I start saying anything."

Not anything, though; he started blabbering, yes, but he only said true things.  He fessed up to a lot, too; this was different though, this wasn't admitting to touching himself when he wasn't supposed to or stealing your biscuits and then blaming Victoria.  This was very, very different.

"Don't you think it would be nice?" he cooed.  "A baby?  Our baby?"

"Yes, but the pregnancy doesn't sound too appealing," you frowned.

"N-no, that part can be nice too!" he insisted, sitting up a bit.  "I'd try to make it easy for you.  And seeing you like that would be... divine."

"Like what?" you rolled your eyes.  "Swollen and exhausted?"

He smiled, eyes getting a little glassy, and you could tell he was picturing it.  “You’d glow, darling, you’d be so pretty— and it would be amazing knowing that I was the one who made you that way.  That it was all because we were making our little family.”

It was disturbingly wholesome talk for a man who was currently naked except for a collar, but it still made your heart warm.  “It really matters that much to you?” you noticed.

“I know we should wait until the wedding,” he admitted, coming back to reality a bit, “b-but you’d look really pretty as a bride with a baby bump, too…”

You smirked a little.  “That would be quite the scandal, Ralph…”

“Oh, don’t pretend you ever cared about scandal, darling,” he winked.  “Don’t you wanna be a real mommy?”

“Of course,” you replied, “especially with you— you’ll be a great father, Ralph.”

He glanced away shyly.  “I hope so,” he mumbled.

“But maybe now isn’t the time—”

“J-just once!” he pleaded.  “Let me try once.  It won’t usually take that fast, anyways— and we can just wait until after the wedding to try again.”

“And if it does take after just once?” you prompted.

He smiled wide.  “Even better.”

You considered it for a second, tuning out his rambling attempt to convince you, before you suddenly blurted out your response.  “Alright,” you decided.  “I’m gonna let you breed me.”

He choked on his own throat, staring at you wide-eyed.  “R-really?” he whispered, jumping a bit as you nodded.  “Th-thank you!  I’m gonna be really good, promise!”

“I know you will, puppy.”

You sat up and began to carefully straddle his lap, admiring how awestruck he looked as he watched you.  It felt kind of strange doing this knowing that you hadn’t put in any sort of contraceptive— no condom or sponge or pessary— and that there was nothing stopping the natural consequences of sex from occurring.  It was thrilling; you understood why Ralph was so adamant about it, although you knew he was more interested in the outcome than the process.

But, he didn’t have any complaints about the process, either.  In fact, he bit his lip to keep from moaning too loud (and it was still quite loud) as you guided yourself down onto his cock.

“I love you,” he whimpered when your hips collided with his, your bum resting on his thighs and your arms draped lazily around his shoulders.

You hadn’t started to move yet, just basking in the feeling of it, but then you heard Ralph let out a sharp sigh— and you felt it a moment later, his cock flexing, a familiar warm fullness inside you.  Your eyes went wide when you realized what exactly you were feeling.  “Puppy!” you gasped.  “Are you already coming?”

He could only whine through his teeth and nod against your chest.

“Oh, Ralphie…” you sighed.  “Just got a little too excited, huh?”

“I— I just— Mommy,” he sobbed, hugging onto you tightly.  “You feel so— a-and I was thinking about h-how we might have our baby soon— and… and I couldn’t help it!  M’sorry!”

“Shh,” you soothed him, kissing the top of his head, “you don’t need to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’re gonna be so pretty,” he whimpered.  “Gonna look beautiful with my baby inside you— I couldn’t stop myself when I imagined it.”

You smiled and pet his head gently.  “Well, who knows— maybe you’ll get to see me like that in a few months.”

He tilted his head back enough to blink up at you with big, watery eyes.  “I wasn’t bad, was I?  I’m still your good puppy?”

“Yes,” you assured, kissing the top of his forehead.  “Such a good puppy.”

“D-don’t get off yet,” he pleaded suddenly, “I wanna just stay like this, please…”

You nodded approvingly and kept stroking his soft curls, feeling him relax under you.

Of course, you didn’t actually stay exactly that way for long; this is Ralph we’re dealing with here, who thinks of cockwarming as one of the most supreme punishments because he just needs to move.  He can hardly ever stay still, let alone when your pussy’s involved.

So, after only a few minutes of him embracing you and you decorating his face with sweet kisses, his hips started to rock under you.  You didn’t notice it right away, until you felt Ralph’s fingertips dig into your back as a soft whine fell from his lips.  “Ralphie?” you whispered.  “Are you alright?”

He nodded shakily, but pressed his hips up into you again.

“Do you need something?”

He didn’t answer with words, but by holding you tight as he rolled you onto your back, starting to thrust his hips as he pinned you down on the bed.  You giggled joyfully, impressed by the uncharacteristic show of dominance.  “S-sorry, I know I’m being bad,” he breathed, shutting his eyes tight as he fucked you faster, “I-I just can’t help it, I need to come again!  I need to come in you again, Mommy— I want it to happen this time.  I want you to be pregnant!”

You gasped as he fucked into you faster and rougher, his first load of come forced deeper into you as he kept going.  “D-doesn’t it hurt?  You’re so sensitive after—”

“N-no, it’s perfect,” he insisted, “it’s so— you feel so good, you always feel perfect… I’m so sorry, I’m being so bad…”

“It’s okay, baby,” you promised, reaching up to tuck a curl that had fallen loose behind his ear, then toying with the dangling collar.  “I’ve just never seen you like this…”

“You’ve never told me I could breed you before,” he explained.

And you loved seeing Ralph totally out of control like this, unable to stop himself even when he was normally quite well-behaved.  Not just that, but you loved the way it felt, too— the way he was fucking you so roughly, it wasn’t what you were used to but it made your walls clench from excitement.  So, you egged him on.  “I want you to, puppy,” you assured, “I want your baby in me.”

“Oh,” he choked, whining louder.  “O-oh, I’m close again already— m’gonna come in you again!”

“Hold on a little longer, puppy,” you groaned, “I need to come first— you already broke that rule once tonight.”

“I-I know, Mommy, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “you just feel so— oh, heavens…”

“You are so spoiled,” you noticed with a purr.  “Spoiled little puppy.”

“Y-yes, yes,” he agreed eagerly, “I know— m’trying to be good, but I need you too much— I need this so much, I need to get you pregnant.”

“Just keep going,” you encouraged, “make me come.  I know you know how.”

He grunted through his teeth, already struggling to hold back even when he came so recently; god, the poor thing, you would’ve let him do this sooner if you’d known how desperate it would make him.  “Please come, Mommy,” he begged, “I-I can’t— I can’t stop it—”

“Yes you can,” you reminded him firmly.  “You can make me come first, you can’t come in me again until I do—”

“Ohhhh,” he whined pitifully, “M-Mommy, please, please— I need to come, I need to come…”

He sobbed a bit as he buried his burning face in the crook of your neck, moans and sobs coming out right by your ear.  “I know, puppy,” you soothed as you pet his head and back, “I’m close, just keep going, hold it in a little longer— I know you can be good, you can be my good puppy, just hold on… fuck, like that, Ralphie, just keep doing that…”

You normally weren’t so easy to please, either, but you’d been worked up from jerking him off for the better part of an hour and he was just too precious struggling to keep it together like this.  Each stroke slammed his cock so deep, and you could feel his come leaking out around every thrust— it was too perfect, it sent you right to the edge in minutes.

“Good boy, good boy,” you encouraged, panting, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  It still hit you faster than you expected, and you heard Ralph gasp.

“Are you coming?” he noticed.  “I can feel it— good job, Mommy— god, m’so close, can I come yet?  I can come inside you now, right?”

You’d barely started nodding before he slammed into you and held you there— forced himself as deep as he could go and stayed there so every pump of his seed would be right up against the end of you.  You smiled and shut your eyes, the afterglow starting to wash over you, your fingers tracing up and down his back.

“Oh, Mommy,” he whispered, “you’re so beautiful— I can’t believe you— wow.  I didn’t think you would let me…”

“Shh,” you soothed again, kissing beside his ear.  “Just stay still, puppy.  Stay still and keep your cock inside so all your come stays in, too— so it takes.”

He hugged you tighter, whimpering quietly, “I love you so much, I love you I love you I—”

“I know,” you whispered back as he cried softly— he got overwhelmed in times like this, you were used to it.  “I know, Ralph, and I love you too.  You’re so good…”

He pulled away enough to wipe his face and look down at you, smiling happily.  “You think I’ll be a good papa, too?”

You nodded back.  “Of course.  Our baby’s gonna love you so much, Ralphie.”

He grinned proudly.  “It’s gonna love you most— what a lucky thing it’ll be, s’got the prettiest mommy in the world.”

“Do you think it’s about time to get up and run a bath?” you prompted, but he shook his head, laying down on top of you and snuggling in happily.

“No, let’s stay like this all night,” he decided.  “And then…” he interrupted himself to kiss your face sweetly, “maybe…” 

You raised an eyebrow as he peppered more kisses on your cheeks and nose, a few on your lips for good measure as well.

“Maybe in the morning,” he continued, finally, “I can breed you one more time?”

“Ralph,” you laughed, rolling your eyes, “you are so spoiled.”

“Oh, darling, if you think I’m spoiled… just wait until I’ve got a cute little heir of my own!”

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters smut #ralph timewasters x reader #joseph quinn x reader

[fyeaheddiemunson]

Joseph Quinn : Cry or Die Edition

#let him have a happy ending #even Ralph ended up unfortunate #maybe he'll have a happy healthy role in Hoard? #he's definitely going to have a bad time in A Quiet Place #joseph quinn #joe quinn #jq #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #cb strike #billy knight #ralph timewasters #catherine the great #prince paul #makeup #tom grant #les misérables #les mis #enjolras #howards end #leonard bast #dickensian #arthur havisham

[kimmberleeex]

literally

#joseph quinn #ralph timewasters #literally same picture #jq

[babybluebex]

𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 | 𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡 (𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at ralph’s birthday party, you feel the need to apologize for what you’ve done.ralph, meanwhile, has a question to ask you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ralph (timewasters, 2017) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! cuteness with ralph, maybe kissing? if that’s a warning? 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is so short i’m sorry but it’s fine (also the surname penbury is courtesy of @mypoisonedvine hehe thanks jd <;3)

“Don’t you think you’re a little mean to Ralph sometimes?” you asked, looking down into your glass of champagne. The party was raging all around you, the jazz quartet having moved into some slower songs after the fun of their first song, and Victoria had dragged you to sit and gossip about the “drippy” musician that she planned on asking to dance. 

Of course, this wasn’t the first time you had ever posed the question to Victoria. You had known Lady Victoria Penbury since you were in nappies together, and you had known Lord Ralph for just as long— Ralph had a habit of trailing after his twin like a lost puppy, and, while Victoria had always treated her brother as a brother, teasing him and all, since moving into adulthood, her teasing had become more than that. 

“What do you mean?” Victoria asked, her pencil-thin eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “He’s Ralph.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you said. “You talk over him all the time, you dismiss him constantly; he doesn’t deserve that.” 

“And since when do you care?” Victoria asked. “You’ve done it too.” 

“I used to,” you corrected her. “And I feel bad about it. But he’s your brother, you should treat him better.” 

“Why do you suddenly care about how I talk to Ralph?” Victoria asked.

“Because it’s his birthday too,” you said, gesturing across the room to him. “And he’s sitting all alone over there.” 

“If you’re so concerned about him, you go over to him,” Victoria told you, lifting her nose up. “Go apologize for the way we’ve treated him.” 

“I was never as bad as you,” you said, gritting your teeth. “At least I act like I actually care about Ralph.” 

With that, you got up from the table, gathering your purse in your hand, and you scowled once more at Victoria before taking yourself across the room to where Ralph sat all alone, nursing a glass of champagne. He looked pitiful, although Ralph often looked pitiful, his big eyes wet and owlish and his shoulders slunk in on himself. You knew that Ralph had the capacity to be lively, and seeing him look so forlorn only tugged on your heartstrings. 

“Hi,” you said gently, and he looked at you with his doe eyes. God, he really was gorgeous, especially in the multicolored suit jacket that he wore. His hair was slicked back, small fashionable waves sculpted, and you watched his entire demeanor change at the sight of you. 

Ralph straightened up, a smile breaking on his face, and he cheered your name. “How are you?” he asked, and he gestured at the empty chair next to him for you to sit. The beads on your dress lightly clacked as you sat, and Ralph looked like he couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. 

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “How are you, though, Ralph? You look… Sad.” 

Ralph shrugged. “I’m merely gathering energy,” he told you. “For the next dance! Would you dance with me?” 

“Of course I will,” you told him, but you struggled to swallow. “Ralph, I wanted to come here to say, um… I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Ralph asked, his eyebrows furrowing, much like his sister; for twins, they didn’t look anything alike, but often they had the exact same expressions and mannerisms. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I have, though,” you protested. “I’m so… I’ve been so mean to you. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” 

“You haven’t been mean,” Ralph said. He played with his tie, his fingers lightly stroking the silken fabric, and you sighed heavily. He was anxious and uncomfortable, you could tell, and you reached out and took his hand. 

“Yes, I have,” you told him. “I-I’m rude to you all the time, I never listen to you, I feel proper terrible about the way I’ve treated you these past few years. And here we are, your birthday party, and you’re all alone. If I’ve done anything to hurt you, please, let me apologize.” 

Ralph was quiet, his chest heaving as he sighed, and he mumbled, “You’ve done nothing bad to me. Victoria is your friend, and I, her little brother. If anything, treating your friend’s little brother like dirt is common, and you’ve not nearly gotten there yet.” 

“Ralph, you realize how bad that is, right?” you told him, holding his hand tightly. “I’m sorry for treating you that way. I-I feel awful.” 

Ralph was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking, and he took his bottom lip between his teeth.  “Dance with me now,” he said simply. 

“Dance with you?” you repeated. “Why?” 

“Because I want to dance, there’s a good song playing, and I have nobody to dance with,” Ralph told you. Then, grinning, he added, “You promised me. And it’ll help me accept your apology quicker.” 

“Oh, so you’re manipulating me?” you asked with a light laugh, and Ralph nodded quickly. 

“It’s what I do best,” Ralph told you, and you were glad to see his smile back. Ralph was a typically happy guy, always giddy and smiling, and you loved to see it. Truthfully, if you could find it in yourself to admit it, you loved to see Ralph. 

He was such great fun, always chattering away or playing his ukulele, and, over the years, you had grown a fondness for the slightly younger Penbury sibling. He was a handsome man, those big eyes and pink lips and sweet smile, and his chirpy happiness was intoxicating; that is, when Victoria wasn’t dissing him. There might have been a time when you would have said that you had a crush on Ralph, but, now, as adults, you had locked those feelings away. 

Ralph stood from his chair, his hand still in yours, and he pulled you to the middle of the dance floor, his shoes making an odd tapping noise as he walked. “Are you…” you started with a giggle, and Ralph’s smile grew. “Are you wearing tap shoes?” 

“Yes!” Ralph exclaimed. “Aren’t they wizard?” His face fell for a moment, almost as if he expected you to interrupt him or shout his name to get him to quiet down, and your heart hurt. 

“They are wizard,” you told him. “Exceptionally wizard, Ralph.” 

“A-And my hair?” Ralph asked next, his hand drifting up to lightly touch the finger waves in his hair. 

“Handsome, as always,” you said, and that cute smile spread across his lips again. One of his hands came down then to touch your waist, the other capturing your free hand, and you laughed at the tap-tap-tap of his shoes as he stepped to dance with you. 

“You look beautiful,” Ralph told you, and, when you looked up at his face, you were mesmerized by those eyes of his. If you were just a little drunk, you might have even tried to kiss him. You felt the pull in your belly, but your confidence is what you lacked. You didn’t care what Victoria thought, or any of your other socialite friends— you were terrified of Ralph. Sweet Ralph scared the hell out of you. If you kissed him and he rejected you, you had no idea what you would do with yourself. 

“Thank you,” you told him anyway, and you clenched your back teeth to keep in any confessions of admiration. 

Ralph, it seemed, had other ideas. A moment passed, those big eyes fixed on your face, and he whispered, “Please don’t hate me.” 

“Why would I—“ you started, but Ralph leaned forward before you could finish your question, and he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was objectively simple, nothing more than his mouth meeting yours, but fireworks exploded in your chest all the same. Ralph was kissing you, and you loved it. 

The kiss broke, and you couldn’t control the warm flush that invaded your cheeks. Ralph gave you a shy smile, and he said, “Do you hate me?” 

“I could never,” you told him, and your hand lifted from his and fell to the back of his neck, and you kissed him again. You could almost feel Victoria’s beady eyes lock on you as you kissed Ralph, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything; only Ralph. 

Ralph said your name against your mouth, and you pulled away from him with hopeful eyes. “I…” he started. “I wanted to… I have a question for you.” 

“Anything, Ralph,” you told him, your eyes softening at him. “What is it?”

“I’ve wanted to ask you for years,” Ralph confessed, and your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He smiled at your simple affections, and he cleared his throat, like he was nervous. “But do you… I…” 

“”Ralph?” you asked gently, cradling Ralph’s cheek in your hand. He nuzzled his face into your hand for a moment, his eyes closed as he breathed, and he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you. 

“Marry me.” 

“Ralph,” you gasped, and your heart sank into your stomach. “Oh, darling, I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” Ralph asked. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, and I love you, and I know that you love me too. You don’t have to tell me, because I know.” 

You liked how Ralph just seemed to know, that you didn’t need to tell him anything. Despite him knowing, though, you needed to tell him. “I do love you,” you confessed. “I think I always have. But we can’t just get married, darling, there are things we need to do first.”

“Like what?” Ralph asked quickly. “I’ll do them. Anything to be yours.” 

You took a deep breath, and you mumbled, “At least take me on a date first before you marry me.” 

“I’ll do it,” Ralph told you. “What else?” 

“Ralph, darling, it’s just not how things are done,” you uttered. Despite everything, you stayed in his arms, and you leaned forward and touched your cheek to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat under his jacket, quick like a rabbit’s, and you added, “I need a ring, and we’re not even courting. I adore the thought, I do, but we can’t just get married.” 

“Says who?” Ralph asked. “I’ve loved you since we were little. And, knowing how you feel, it only makes me more anxious to start my life with you.” 

“You have a life—” you started, but Ralph cut you off. 

“Do I?” Ralph asked. “Trailing after my sister is not a life. My life means nothing without you, my love. You bring me meaning and happiness.” 

“You do the same for me,” you said softly, and you looked up at his face. “I… Alright, Ralph. I’ll tell you what: I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want, but you have to tell Victoria.” 

Ralph pouted, and it made you smile. “Must I?” he asked, like the tortured little brother that he was. 

“It’s like you said,” you told him. “If you’ve known me your whole life, so has your sister. Tell her that you intend to marry me tomorrow.” 

Ralph looked over his shoulder to Victoria, who was, as you had suspected, staring right at you. “One more kiss before the dragon breathes fire and slays me?” he mumbled as he turned back to you, and you giggled. 

“Of course, my darling,” you whispered, and Ralph leaned down to kiss you one more time.  

#ralph timewasters #ralph penbury #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph penbury x reader #timewasters 2017 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #*my writing

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

imagine taking ralph’s virginity, baby boy would be an absolute mess and couldn’t believe that it’s happening. he’d just be amazed and so overwhelmed with love for you

please. (also this is not historically accurate obviously ladkfkaj)

he would hold your hips as you sunk down on his cock, your back arching, pert nipples in the air as you moan softly, his hands squeazing your hips.

he thinks you are a true goddess.

so, incredibly beautiful.

and!! he would be so so loud and vocal!! immediately when you move your hips, he's all flustered and squirmy, and he can't believe this is happening.

especially with you.

"c-can't believe th-this," he'd muster out, whining and bucking his hips into your warm cunt as you whimper, sighing and leaning forward to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, rumbles of your moans exchanged with his cries as the candle light highlights your features. you can see him shaking as you drag your hips up and down, rocking your hips on his. "i-i love y-you--an'-!!" you shush him, whimpering softly when you gently grab onto his hair, guiding him to your breasts as he greedily sucks on the skin.

his balls are filled with milky cum as your ass slaps against them--your right hand coming down to his pelvis to drag over a sensitive spot, and he whines out your name in the result of it, tears dripping from his lashes.

"feel so good, ralphie," you'd whisper, giggling hungrily when you feel the bulbous head of his cock drag against your inner walls, twitching. your swollen clit drags along the fuzzy hair of his pubic area as begin to bounce on him, and ralph just can't take it!!

poor thing comes way too quickly but you don't mind when he's fucking up into you like an animal in heat, panting and crying--grunts, whimpers, whines, moans--you name it--spewing from his mouth as he praises you.

"y-you, i-!" he can barely get a word out, the blissfullness of his orgasm rocking through his whole body. "s-so beautiful, so--my--i can't--"

you moan loudly when he fucks up faster into your cunt, small "uh"'s leaving your lips as he finishes himself off.

and of course, he apologizes for finishing so quickly. he felt so emotional when he finished that you just kiss his forehead running your fingers through his hair and telling him that he did a perfect job.

and thennn he begs you to let him finish you off as well.

which of course, you let him; guiding him through everything until you cum on his tongue and he desperately laps it up, dragging his hardened cock on the mattress as you tug on his hair. <333

#ralph timewasters smut #mail 💌 #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader smut #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x reader smut #ralph penbury x fem!reader #timewasters smut

[pollenallergie]

the favourite

Word Count: 4k

Description: Ralph checks in on his favourite maid.

A/N: as always, all credit for Ralph’s canon surname goes to @mypoisonedvine!! <3

CW/TW: nothing to see here, just good ole fashion comfort fic. some brief mentions of vomiting/stomach issues, but that’s all. just good ole wholesome fluff. reader is referred to as a woman, and she/her pronouns are occasionally used to refer to her… i’m sorryyyy i really meant to make this more gender-neutral, but there was some wording that sounded really clunky when written to be gender neutral, and i couldn’t find out how to get around it, so i caved. i’m sorry :/

Ralph paces outside the maids’ quarters, fretting about what sort of state you must be in. He’s not seen you all day, and that, in and of itself, is quite unusual.

From the moment he’d noticed that you were missing at breakfast, he’d begun to worry. However, his anxiety only increased tenfold when he’d overheard a couple of the other servants discussing how you’d fallen ill in the late, late hours of last night. Now that Ralph knows the true reason for your sudden absence, he debates whether he should pay a visit to the maids’ quarters to check in on you.

On the one hand, he cares for you deeply, probably more than a man should care about one of his maids, and wants to support you in your time of need. However, on the other hand, Ralph is quite squeamish and he worries that he will not be able to handle seeing you in such a compromised state. Or, rather, he fears that any reaction he may have to your sickly plight will only make things worse for you.

“Ralph,” his sister, Victoria, shouts from the other room, “Would you stop pacing? I can hear your feet pitter-pattering, it’s driving me mad! And you’re creating a draft,” she scolds him harshly.

“R-right, of course,” he stutters, now forced to make a choice. Shall he go in and check on you or should he simply wait for you to come out on your own, once you’ve recovered?

Suddenly, it occurs to Ralph that you may never recover, that this mysterious ailment may well be fatal. Should that be the case, then Ralph would lose you forever. That thought stirs an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It’s decided then, Ralph thinks, I must go check on her.

So, he peeks down the hall, ensuring Victoria is far enough away that she won’t notice him sneaking into your room. Once he’s confirmed to himself that his sister is too far from him to be aware of his clandestine activities, Ralph slowly and quietly opens the door to your rooms, calling out your name to ensure that he won’t startle you.

“It’s me, Ralph. Are you decent?” He inquires politely.

“Yes,” you hum out pathetically as one of your cold hands snakes under your duvet to gently cradle your aching stomach. At this point, you can’t tell if your chills are the result of the frosty winter weather that roars on just outside the thin glass of your bedroom window or of the illness you’d awoken with last night.

At the sound of your pitiful tone, Ralph swiftly enters your room and softly shuts the door behind him. He then promptly makes his way over to you before coming to kneel at your bedside, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Oh, dove, what’s happened to you?” Ralph asks frantically with his eyes flitting back and forth as he takes in your sallow appearance. Your heart thrums at the term of endearment he’s used.

Perhaps it should be concerning that one of your employers has invaded your space, the only comfort you are owed as a domestic servant, this realm of so-called privacy that you share with two other young ladies and one very pious older lady. Not to mention that he’s referred to you in such an inappropriate manner. However, you’ve come to expect such behaviour from Ralph, who has never much bothered with upholding social customs.

Surprisingly, he frequently pays even less mind to cultural standards than his twin sister, Victoria, a woman known far and wide for her eccentricities. Victoria, for example, certainly doesn’t make a habit of fraternising with the help beyond the typical daily exchanges that take place in the home. Ralph, however, is quite chummy with all of the staff of the Penbury House.

Though, recently you’ve become his favourite, most likely because you indulge his odd little whims more than the others and more than you probably should. Although, now you’re hardly in the right state to properly accommodate such spontaneity.

“My stomach,” you pathetically whimper your response as you look up at him with sorrowful, glassy eyes.

Ralph feels his heart break at the sight. Only then does he notice the empty bin positioned precariously by your bed, and he begins to feel a nervousness flutter about in his belly.

“Are you- Have you gotten sick?” He asks, his voice having gone up an octave from all of his worrying.

You nod before attempting to provide verbal confirmation, only to then be cut off by a sharp, cramping pain shooting through your abdomen. You wince at the horrid feeling, causing Ralph to frown.

“Is it painful?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” you whimper out, an unintentionally adorable pout taking over your features.

You cannot help but feel ashamed. A member of the household staff should never make their discomfort known to their employers, even if your master did ask you directly. Perhaps, if anyone overheard you, you can simply blame it on your fever-addled mind. Certainly that seems reasonable, right?

You’ve heard of men at war having delusions of grandeur as a result of incredibly high fevers, caused by infected wounds, warping their minds. Certainly then it must be reasonable to suspect that your mild fever is at fault for your current inability to properly think things through before you say them aloud.

Oblivious to your mental plight, Ralph lifts his hand to rest near your temple, the tips of his fingers gently stroking the damp, wispy strands at your hairline as he coos, “Oh, poppet, I shall call for a doctor at once.” It’s a comforting touch accompanied by words that speak of a kindness someone like you simply will never deserve from someone like him, you are well aware of that, yet you cannot help but lean into the touch all the same.

“I’ll be alright, my lord,” you reply, giving your polite, indirect refusal.

Ralph tsks in disapproval, “Sweetling, you know that I will not know peace until you’ve recovered. Please, let me help you,” he begs sweetly.

You sigh, your resolve swiftly melting under the heat of the pleading gaze that his coffee brown eyes fix you with.

“Thank you, my lord,” you say, simultaneously accepting his aid and articulating your gratitude for it while your lips curl up into a small, shy smile.

In turn, he rewards your reluctant acceptance with a big, beaming grin. He then gingerly takes one of your clammy hands, the only one which is not currently cradling your aching stomach, into one of his own before placing a chaste kiss to the back of it.

“Rest up, dove. I’ll be back shortly,” Ralph informs you giddily, oddly excited by the prospect of caring for you. He then swiftly departs, rushing off to ring up their local physician.

Only an hour or so later, you're suddenly awoken by the sound of the door to your quarters opening with an eerie creak. You huff and roll over without opening your eyes, presuming it to be one of the other maids.

“Darling, I have returned,” Someone calls out in a singsong tone as they enter your room, “I apologise for being away for so long. You would not believe how difficult it was to get in touch with our family’s physician.”

“Ralph?” You ask, momentarily forgetting your manners due to the lingering exhaustion, as you roll over and open your bleary eyes to look at the person.

“Yes, ‘tis I,” he confirms theatrically, just as energetic and campy as ever, as he sets down a glass of water and a cup of tea on your night stand.

Ralph then gracelessly plops down on your bed, a canvas bag filled with various bits and bobs still loosely tucked into the crook of his elbow as he comes to sit just by where your feet rest under the blankets.

“Oh, how I do love it when you simply call me by my name,” he remarks cheerfully as he gently boops your nose.

“It’s improper,” you grumble, “I should always refer to you by your title.”

“Perhaps it is, but I love it all the same,” Ralph replies, still sporting his cheerful smile as he busies himself with setting out all of the things he’s brought with him on top of the wooden trunk that sits near the foot of your tiny bed.

Now that Ralph thinks about it, he really should arrange for you to get a bigger bed, maybe he should arrange for all the staff to get bigger beds; he can’t imagine these are very comfortable. You’re a grown woman, a lovely, amazing, kind, unfairly beautiful grown woman, you deserve to sleep in a bed befitting a grown adult.

“Now,” Ralph begins to explain once he’s arranged everything to his liking, “It would seem that Dr. Wycoff has already stepped out for the day, so he won’t be able to come until tomorrow morning. However, you needn’t fret, for I had one of our footmen go out and fetch you some things that might ease your discomfort, at least until we can get you proper medical attention.”

“My lor-” you attempt to interject, most likely to remind Ralph that his fretting over you is both completely unnecessary and entirely inappropriate, though the attempt is in vain as your master continues with his ramblings.

“Now, let’s see, I’ve got some ginger tea to help calm your stomach, a hot water bottle for the cramping, a glass of cold water with some mint leaves in it, a couple pieces of toast, and a collection of poetry that I can read to you. What shall we start with first?” He asks eagerly, looking at you with those wide, kind eyes of his. There’s a spark of determination present in his warm gaze and it lets you know that any further attempts you make to refuse his care, whether they’re for propriety’s sake or otherwise, will be futile.

You huff out a breath, the sound of it is something between a humorous chuckle and resigned sigh, before smiling up at him fondly.

“Perhaps we could start with the hot water bottle and maybe the book of poems as well,” you suggest.

You don’t know how it’s possible, but, somehow, his smile seems to become even bigger and brighter than before. “Marvelous idea, poppet,” He says sweetly as he grabs the hot water bottle.

Rather than simply handing the item to you, as you initially expect, Ralph simply lifts the linens away from you, revealing your form to him, so that he can place the hot water bottle on your aching stomach himself. The moment he registers that you’re in your nightdress — your white cotton nightdress, which is surprisingly thin and not doing much to conceal your form from him — he realises his mistake.

Ralph gingerly, yet hastily places the hot water bottle on your stomach, his fingertips able to feel the warmth of your skin through your nightdress as he does so. His cheeks and the tips of his ears burn with a warm blush as he aids you. Ralph then promptly rights the linens back in place so that you’re properly covered, before swiftly rising to his feet, turning away and attempting to disguise his flusteredness by clearing his throat.

“I apologise,” he exhales a shaky breath, still refusing to look at you, “for erm- well- I only meant to help. It was not my intention to erm- to violate you. I would never want to dis-”

“My lord, it’s quite alright.”

“-respect you or to- to, erm, to dishonour you.”

“You haven’t, my lord,” you attempt to interject, though it seems nothing you say will halt his spiraling.

Oh, well, drastic times call for drastic measures.

“It was certainly not my intention to force myself onto you or to, erm, to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. Truly, I only meant to help you, to care for you, because, well, I think I might l-”

“Ralph,” you interrupt.

The sound of his own name finally captures his attention as he turns to face you once more, mostly out of shock; you hardly ever call him by his first name, despite the fact that he’s made it very obvious that he wishes you would only ever refer to him by his first name, his name, not the name held by his father and his sister and every other Penbury who’s not him.

You reach out to gently grasp one of his hands in one of your own, clammy, hands. “It’s alright.”

He looks down at your intertwined hands, then back at your face, focusing on your eyes which look up at him so kindly, and then down to your lips which are curled into a soft, shy smile, one that, in his wildest dreams, he lets himself believe you reserve only for him.

“It is?” He asks, his tone still wavering with worry.

“Yes,” you reassure him before patting the spot he once sat in, silently encouraging him to sit back down, to be near you again.

Ralph obliges your wordless request and hesitantly lowers himself to sit back down on the edge of your bed.

He’s quiet still, too quiet, especially considering that neither of the Penbury twins are ever quiet. You worry that he’s still lost in his own mind, panicking about propriety, much like you always are. You don’t like seeing him worry.

“My lord, I do believe you promised to read some poems to me,” you remind him, not truly wanting to boss him around, but rather wanting to give him something to focus on other than his recent misstep.

“R-right, right, of course, I, erm,” he pauses to clear his throat, looking down at his hands as he wrings them together, deciding whether he should speak the next words allowed given how he’s already disregarded your boundaries today. Ultimately, he sighs and decides to take the risk.

“I’ll, erm- I’ll read them to you but only,” he whispers before pausing briefly to let out a shaky breath, “only if you promise to stop referring to me as ‘my lord’ when we’re alone. I’d,” he pauses once more, summoning the courage needed to speak his next words aloud, “I’d much rather you call me Ralph when it’s just the two of us.”

He’s told you this many times before and you’ve never been outright offended, but still, he worries.

Although, you’ve recently, within the last few minutes, called him Ralph all on your own, making that the second time that you’ve referred to him by his name today. Twice is certainly the most you’ve ever called him by his name in a day as you almost never refer to him as anything but ‘my lord’ when addressing him directly and ‘Lord Penbury’ when referring to him in conversations with the other household staff members; conversations he really shouldn’t eavesdrop on, but that he always does, at least, when you’re a part of them.

Certainly your seemingly waning hesitance to call him by his name must be a good sign, right?

You reply, “Maybe I shall call you Ralphie.”

It’s a joke, one that shouldn’t be said aloud, one that you didn’t properly think over before you said it aloud, one that has entirely too much truth behind it, one that really wouldn’t seem like a joke at all if not for your humorous tone. Ralph certainly doesn’t seem to think it a joke.

He smiles brightly, some of that characteristic Penbury enthusiasm returning to him in that moment, as he genuinely replies, “I would love that, sweetling.”

“Now,” Ralph continues, “as for the poems, this book is from my own personal collection. It’s the selected poems of John Keats. He’s one of my favourites. It’s a shame tuberculosis took him so young. Thankfully you don’t have tuberculosis, or, at least, I’ve got no reason to think that you do. I believe tuberculosis is the one with all the coughing, and you haven’t a cough, just an upset stomach, right, darling?” He rambles as he digs the book out of his bag and then thumbs through it in search of his favourite poem.

“Right,” you confirm, “no coughing.”

He hums at that, offering mere acknowledgment as he’s already moved onto another subject entirely. Usually you’re one of the only ones who’s able to keep up with him in conversation, whenever you’re actually afforded the opportunity to indulge him in it without getting caught by the housekeeper, the woman in charge of you and all the other female servants. However, today it’s difficult to keep up with his rapidly shifting focuses, likely due to your current state of ill health.

“Are you familiar with his work?” Ralph asks suddenly.

“Hmm?” You question, too lost in your own thoughts to remember who he’s talking about.

“John Keats. Are you familiar with any of his poems?” He asks again, not at all bothered by the fact that you seem to have lost focus for a moment there.

One thing you’ve learned in your time working here at the Penbury estate is that the younger of the two Penbury twins is exceedingly patient, whilst the elder is exceedingly short-tempered.

“I’m afraid not, erm,” you heistate before calling him by his desired nickname, still reluctant to let go of propriety, “Ralphie,” you reply, giving in to the temptation to please him, to make him happy by calling him something far more personal than his title.

It’s the first time you’ve actually used that nickname when addressing him and the sound of it sets fireworks alight in his chest.

“Oh, how dreadful! I suppose we shall start with the classics then, yes? This one is called ‘You Say You Love’ and it’s easily one of my favourites of all the poems I’ve ever read,” Ralph explains before leaning in close to tap your nose with an audible ‘boop’ before assuring you, in a tone that’s much like the one he uses when he’s cooing lovingly, “you’re going to positively adore it, sweetling, I’m certain of it.”

He sits up again, opening the book to the correct page before suddenly remembering the tea he’d had the kitchen staff prepare for you.

“Sweetling,” Ralph calls out to you.

“Yes, Ralphie?” He can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet voice uttering his preferred nickname, this time noticeably less tentative than before.

“Do remember to drink your tea before it goes cold, my lo- my dear,” he clears his throat out of embarrassment before reaffirming, “erm, j-just dear. Dearest, even!”

She’s not yours, Ralph, you blasted fool! He harshly reminds himself.

You bravely rest one of your hands atop his own, knowing he needs the comforting touch to ground him and help him avoid another spiral. “I will,” you assure him.

“R-right, erm,” he clears his throat, “let us begin.”

You hum your approval as you reach over to carefully grab the cup of tea from where it sits on the trunk by your bed. Ralph can’t help but smile as he watches you take a sip, all while still clutching the hot water bottle to your tummy.

“You say that you love,” he begins, immediately channeling the energy of a romantic poet, like John Keats, waxing poetic about unrequited love, “but with a voice chaster than a nun’s…”

You sit back, resting against your thin, floppy pillow, sipping your ginger tea whilst you listen to him recite one of his favourite poems in a tone of voice so soft and intimate, that it begins to lull you to sleep.

It’s not long before you’re sound asleep, but, even then, Ralph doesn’t stop reading his poems; mostly because he’s so engrossed in the works of his favourite poet that he fails to notice that you’ve fallen asleep.

Once he does notice, however, he sets his book aside so that can help get you settled. He carefully eases the cup of tea out of your clutches, lest you spill it on yourself in your sleep, and sets it aside. He takes great care in gently tucking you in, careful not to wake you as he makes sure you’re sufficiently covered by your bed linens.

Thanks to your lack of consciousness, Ralph even finds the courage to lean forward and press a gentle, chaste kiss to your forehead. Though, he soon realizes that might have been a mistake as your forehead is very sweaty, no doubt thanks to your fever, and now your now-cold perspiration is on his lips. He grimaces at the gross feeling as he harshly wipes your sweat off of his lips with the sleeve of shirt. He also indulges in a sip of your tea, just to make sure that your sweat is well and truly gone.

“I shall remain right here as you sleep, sweetling. I won’t leave your side, not for a moment,” Ralph reassures your sleeping form.

He makes good on his word, sitting at your side and watching you sleep, memorising the slope of your nose and the roundness of your cheeks, reading poem after poem to you even though you aren’t awake to hear them.

Ralph even replaces your hot water bottle when it goes cold, handing it off to Langley — who’s been dutifully waiting outside the door to the maids’ chambers ever since he discovered his master was in there — so that he can have the kitchen staff rewarm it for you. He still blushes and flusters when he lifts the linens to take the now useless water bottle from you, he still feels wildly guilty about crossing any boundaries, even though you’re in too deep of a sleep to notice. Ralph even finishes your tea before it goes cold and then has Langley order the kitchen staff to prepare some more for you.

Speaking of dear Langley, the Penburys’ head butler whose current, steadfast presence by the door to the maids’ quarters, a place he’s never been posted outside of before, gives away Ralph’s presence in your room to anyone and everyone who walks by.

Luckily for Ralph, Victoria would never set foot in what she colloquially refers to as the “Help Hall,” a hallway lined with doors that lead to the various rooms the staff of the townhouse reside in.

Still, he can’t imagine that the women with whom you share your room are at all happy to have their master lingering in their space. So, when the evening draws to a close, and he hears the murmurs of other staff members going off to their rooms in that same hallway, Ralph reluctantly leaves your side to avoid causing any offense to the other maids, who’ve never been anything but kind to him.

Nevertheless, before he leaves, Ralph places another soft kiss on your forehead, and this time, he has the forethought to use his handkerchief to wipe away most of the sweat before he presses his lips there. He holds his lips there a bit longer than last time, hoping that, even in your sleep, you can feel the warmth of his affections pouring through the gesture.

When Ralph pulls away, he whispers to your sleeping form, “Unfortunately, I must take my leave now, but I will return tomorrow morning so that I may continue to look after you in your time of need. I shall return every day until you are well again, dear heart, this much I promise, and you must know that a Penbury always keeps their promises,” Ralph pauses, his brows furrowing as he thinks over his words, “Or, at least, I always keep my promises. If memory serves me correctly, I’ve not broken a promise yet, and I most certainly do not intend to start doing so now.”

Suddenly, Ralph sighs; it's a solemn, dejected sound that perfectly conveys his reluctance to leave your side. His eyes rake over your sleeping form once more, hoping to memorize the sight of you in the hopes that you might appear in his dreams tonight.

“I know you cannot hear me right now, sweetling, and m-maybe that is for the best, but,” Ralph trails off, interrupting himself to take a deep, calming breath. He then uses his handkerchief to wipe off some of the sweat on your cheek before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss there. When Ralph pulls away, he moves just slightly so that his lips hover near your ear, and then softly whispers, “I love you.”

#ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #timewasters

[usedtobecooler]

long hot summer | Ralph Penbury x fem!reader

Pairing | Ralph Penbury x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), stripping, boob fondling, coming in pants (times two cause i'm a heathen), cunnilingus, eager ralph, rude reader, train sex

Word Count | 1.9k

A/N | listen i really should be working on prompts i know, but i needed to try out writing for our little ralphie and my heart wouldn't rest until i did it ))):

The steam train was stuffy, a warm July day making the heat onboard unbearable. You'd never witnessed muggy heat like this, so used to the cool sea breeze in Spain that the air in central London was disgustingly dense in comparison.

You're only in a chemise, cooling yourself with your fan but inevitably still warm enough that drops of sweat slide down the dip of your breast, pooling into your corset. Damn this weather, damn the Brits, damn Victoria for subjecting you to this horrid trip. You made a mental note in your head to never return after this trip.

Things weren't being made any better by the fact that Victoria's ridiculous twin brother, Ralph, had been expected to chaperone you during this entire journey north. He was always so loud, unable to shut off at any given moment, he always had something to talk about. You swear this was the quietest he'd been the entire train ride, as if the cat had gotten his tongue.

He's disheveled looking, cream suit jacket thrown on the empty seat next to him and shirt rolled up to his elbows, top button popped to reveal a glimpse of chest hair. You stare too long, he's going to catch on soon, and your peaceful silence will be over.

He's disheveled looking, cream suit jacket thrown on the empty seat next to him and shirt rolled up to his elbows, top button popped to reveal a glimpse of chest hair. You stare too long, he's going to catch on soon, and your peaceful silence will be over.

"How long is left of this journey?" You snap, fanning yourself a bit harder, but all it does is wave the warm air back to you, prickly heat attacking your skin and making you feel disgusting, in need of a bathe.

Ralph shrugs, doesn't even lighten up any as you talk, smile faltering and failing to appear, "I'm not sure, an hour, maybe."

The heat truly is getting to him, you can tell. He isn't his usual bubbly, ridiculously puppy-like self, he sounds worn out. Tired. The blistering heat becoming too much.

You sigh, "This is ridiculous," you fuss, slapping down your fan on the table to make haste of unfastening the top clasps on your corset, grateful that today your chemise adorned buttons along the chest also.

"What - what are you doing, madam. You can't undress yourself here." Ralph strains, unable to take his wide eyes off of you as he watches your breasts spill from their confines, slick with sweat and flushed pink in the heat.

"We are in a private carriage, Ralph. The blind is down, nobody will come in. Do you have a problem?" You quirk an eyebrow at him, continuing to undo buttons with your eyes on his, unable to decipher how he feels right in that very moment.

He looks distressed. Hand tightening on the rim of his hat on the table, his cheeks flushing darker than before, and you don't think it's from the heat this time. You smirk a little, removing your hands from the boned material of your corset and setting them prettily on the table, fingertips dancing along the solid mahogany.

"Ralph, have you ever seen a woman's breasts outside of their undergarments before?" You're teasing him, a glint in your eye. You hit the nail on the head, clearly, because Ralph can't meet your gaze anymore and he's turning away, suddenly the ceiling becoming ever so interesting to him.

"I, um, well I - you see," Ralph stumbles over his words, cheeks burning hot, the flush beginning to spread down his neck, "not - not really, no."

"Not really?" You ask, faking wonderment so he'll keep going. You toe your heels off under the table, your stocking clad foot connecting with Ralph's calf and eliciting a gasp from his bitten lips as you run it up and down, "A pretty boy like you, never been with a woman?"

Ralph stutters, sucking in a sharp breath as he lets your foot glide over his leg through his pants, the feeling making his cock spring to attention fully, as if he hadn't been at half-mast the entire journey just by watching you fan your bosom, "They say I'm too eager, madam. They'd be right, but I don't think that's a bad thing."

Your tummy tightens at his admission - eager. How could a woman deny an eager man willing to please them? It's a crying shame, that Ralph had never laid his hands on a woman and pleasured her - even if he lacked experience, eagerness would always make up for that.

"Would you like to see mine?" You say eventually, foot rising higher and higher until you're rubbing the inside of his thigh and he's positively whimpering, hazarding a glance back at you.

You make a show of it for him, unbuttoning and unclasping your layers until your plush tits fall loose form their confinements, nipples hardening in slight temperature change in the air. You never take your eyes off of him, keep your foot running up and down his inner thigh, "What do you think, Ralphie? Is it everything you dreamed it'd be?"

"Can I -" Ralph starts, fingers gripping onto the edge of the table as if he's stopping himself from lunging over, "Can I touch them, madam?"

You suck in a sharp breath, a tiny little moan escaping you, "Of course you can, Ralph. Anything you want."

He barely allows you to finish the sentence before he's reaching a hand out to cup your left breast, thumb running over the hardened nub of your nipple curiously, eliciting a breathy whine from you, "Wow, this is brilliant!"

You roll your eyes, as usual his silly mouth ruining the illusion, so you shut him up by running your foot up higher, ghosting over the hard outline of his cock in his pants. And something unexpected happens;

"Gosh, madam, I'm going to -" Ralph cuts himself off with a groan, hunching in on himself, thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple hard as he comes in his pants. You blink at him, almost stupidly, as you watch him moaning, feeling his cock pulsing under the sole of your foot as he unloads in his confines.

"Oh, Ralphie, I didn't realise you'd release so quickly," You pout, because what a crying shame that is, over before it had even began, "I was only just starting to have fun having my way with you."

Ralph blushes, looking up at you with watery eyes as his fingers fall deftly from the curve of your breast, "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I don't know what quite came over me."

You have to stifle back a giggle at Ralph's choice of words, inappropriate considering what just happened, "Maybe I have a way you could make it up to me?" You hazard, core still aching and cunt desperate to be touched, you just hoped Ralph truly was as eager as he said he was.

"Anything, madam. Anything you want." Ralph's pleading with you - begging, even. It's adorable, has you clenching your thighs as a blooming begins in the pit of your stomach.

"Why don't you slide under this table and take a glance up my skirts. You'd like that, right, Ralphie?" You coo, a dirty smirk spreading over your features and darkening them. You spread your legs as an invitation, getting yourself comfortable.

He doesn't have to be asked twice, sliding under the table and pushing his head under the skirt of your dress, the curls in his hair tickling at your thighs, "Gosh, madam. No panties?" He gasps, and you giggle as you lift your skirts up to watch him wide eyed, face to face with your glistening wet pussy.

"I always wondered if the day would come where my lack of underwear would come in handy," You quip, feeling proud of yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from Ralph's fascinated stare at your anatomy, "Come on then, Ralphie. Don't you want to work that mouth of yours?"

Ralph nods eagerly, gripping at your thighs and nuzzling into your cunt, flat of his tongue coming out to tentatively slide between your folds, catching your clit on the upstroke. You gasp, hand coming out to grasp at his curls, winding them between your fingers.

"Oh, Ralph," You moan, his inexperience telling in the way that he's trying to find his footing and there's no real rhythm to his movements, but his tongue feels delicious on your pussy, the occasional slip over your clit driving you mad, "Such a good boy, Ralphie."

Ralph moans into your cunt at your praise, and your eyes glisten, delighted that you'd hit a nerve with him. Of course he had a praise kink, he was as puppy like as a man came, you're almost positive if you threw a bone at him he'd chase it. Adorable, almost pitiful to some, but maybe not to you.

You find the knot in your tummy winding up unexpectedly, his large tongue deftly licking over you just enough to have you teetering on the edge all too quickly, and you're almost saddened by how fast this will all be over.

You glance down at Ralph, and he must feel his eyes on you because he looks up, a pleading look on his chocolate brown, wet loser boy eyes, almost like he's asking if he's doing a good job. His nose perches prettily on your mound, nestled in amongst your trimmed hair, and well, if it isn't the prettiest sight you've ever seen.

You open your mouth in a quiet moan when Ralph licks over your clit and stays there this time, "That's it, Ralphie. Right there, what a good little pup. So good for me," You praise, and Ralph whimpers into your skin, you feel him rutting against the air, "Oh, oh!"

You come with a sharp cry, tipping your head back until the vast expanse of your sweat slick neck is bared, thighs squeezing at Ralph's head as fireworks explode behind your eyes. You shake and shudder through your orgasm, body feeling impossibly hotter as the coil unravels in the pit of your gut.

Ralph's hands grasp onto your thighs pathetically tight, a broken, choked, wet moan escaping his mouth as he shakes against your leg, a tell-tale sign that he's coming again. Your pussy clenches as he whines into the meat of your thigh, eyes squeezing shut whilst he ruts against you.

You pet his head to help him through the last of it, and he keens into the touch. Ralph truly was like a puppy, it was so endearing.

You glance out of the window, eyes widening as you see the train station in your near sights, "Ralph, Ralph!" You hiss, shaking at him, "Get up and compose yourself, we're almost here."

Ralph waves you off like an idiot, your fingers fumbling with your clasps to tuck your bosom away before somebody saw you, a wreck over a virgin boy who touched you. Mortifying, truly.

When you both eventually step off of the train, Victoria is there to greet you, and her smile falters, a grimace taking over her features, "Good grief, you two. You look disgusting, like you've been working like dogs in the prison. Up to, you need to bathe before tonight's party."

She claps her hands, turning around without a second glance and you roll your eyes once you're sure she's not looking.

She really was not your favourite Penbury.

#ralph penbury fic #ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic #my fanfic #mine #x reader #smut

[wheels-of-despair]

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You

That's right kids, The Mystery Series is a Worth It AU! The players are the same, but the setting is the RMS Titanic in April 1912.

You don't have to have read Worth It to understand Live A Little, but I've sprinkled it with cameos and Easter eggs from the original series.

The biggest character difference is that You are now an American. Congrats! "Home" is a vague place that's probably somewhere in the northeast. You're still a twenty-something who loves Dad, disappoints Mom, and is bored by a boy named Donald.

There will be a happy ending. None of this "I'll never let go!" and then immediately letting go and watching your boy sink. Not on my watch.

Chapters will come out on the day they're set, and vary in length. Some days are more exciting than others!

I've been researching and writing this on and off for about a year. I'm sure you've all seen the 1997 movie, and images from that will be what I use for most of my headers. I'll also be using the occasional image from Titanic: Honor and Glory.

Bonus: Want to see the cabins You and Ralph are occupying?

CHAPTERS: December 1911 April 10, 1912 April 11, 1912 April 12, 1912 April 13, 1912 April 14, 1912 April 15, 1912 April 16, 1912 April 17, 1912 April 18, 1912 April 19, 1912

#masterlist #writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters

[ryan-waddell11]

NEW CONTENT FROM HOARD!!! I CANT WAIT TO SEE IT.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #the hellfire club #joe quinn #netflix #eddie deserves better #Stranger things vol 2 #eddie in s5 #eddie as kas #corroded coffin #hoard #hoard movie #ralph timewasters #Tom grant #make up 2019 #catherine the great #prince paul #dickensian #arthur havisham #great expectations #leonard bast #Jamie kin #kroner game of thrones #I CANT WAIT TO WATCH IT #Luna Carmoon #venice film festival

[mypoisonedvine]

who's a good boy? {ralph x reader}

{summary} you give ralph a very special present after his birthday party.

{word count} 7.4k

{warnings} SMUT (18+ ONLY), sub!ralph and soft dom!reader, ruined orgasm, handjob, pillow humping, oral sex f receiving, unprotected sex, titty sucking, light(?) pet play, collaring, 'puppy' pet name and 'ma'am' title, very slight/implied? foot fetish, dom/sub dynamics, fluff, angst but it all works out, mention of an arranged marriage, mention of cousin marriage (sorry guys lol), reader smokes a cigarette, reader has eldest daughter syndrome, ralph is the goodest boy, taking the "golden retriever boyfriend" trope to a whole new level

You'd had quite a time watching Ralph at his party— he was so full of energy, bouncing off the walls in between chatting with his guests and dancing to the music. You could barely keep up with him, even when he dragged you to the dancefloor to join him; "Don't you wanna dance with the birthday boy?" he winked at you, and you could hardly say no to that.

Now that you knew, it was obvious— of course Ralph had a puppy side, just look at the man scampering all around his own party like he couldn't decide what to do next! But even if it was clear to you now, you hadn't always realized it. You'd known him for years, but only had the privilege of seeing that side of him properly almost a year ago.

See, Ralph was an old friend, and when you were visiting London you typically stayed with him and his sister in their estate.  Living with someone, even as a guest, means you run the risk of catching them in a compromising situation.  

Still, you never imagined finding Ralph in your bedroom one afternoon, humping your pillow.

It was quite a sight, his hands holding on tight to the white downy cloud, his face flushed pink and his mouth parted with a gasp as he rocked his hips.  He had his trousers pulled down enough for his bare arse to be exposed to you, which made you giggle, which made him shriek and tumble off the bed in surprise.

You narrowed your eyes as you waited for him to come back out, but there was a long silence.  "Ralph?  Are you back there?" you asked gently as you stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"...No," he answered back pitifully, and you smiled as you tilted your head.

"It's okay," you promised, "I was just going to ask what you were doing in my room.  Can you stop hiding now?"

His head started to hesitantly appear from the other side of the mattress, his eyes big and wet and blinking at you quickly.  "How… how long were you standing there?" he wondered quietly.

"Long enough," you promised, and he whined.  "Will you tell me what you were doing?"

He pouted slightly as he rested his chin on your duvet.  "I was…" he sighed, shutting his eyes tight.  "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay!" you promised.  "Can you just say it?"

"I was… rubbing myself… o-on your pillow."

The poor boy had gone beet red, poor thing.  Not that you could blame him, it was quite the situation to be caught in.  "Thank you for telling me," you offered.  "What were you doing such a silly thing for?"

"I was— well, I felt a little… strange all day," he explained.  "It's just that… being around you, sometimes I… oh, I can't help it!"

You chuckled as he crinkled up his nose with a frown.

"I just— you know that I adore you!" he continued.  "I've said as much a thousand times.  And I came here to tell you again!  But I was feeling so… a-and your pillow, it smelled just like you, it smelled like your hair, and I…"

You stepped closer to the bed, and he looked up at you before darting his eyes away again.  "What a naughty boy," you chided, hearing him whimper through his teeth.  "Is that what you do when you're feeling worked up, Ralph?  You wander about the house and hump whatever you can find, like a bad puppy?"

And that was when you knew.  Because you'd only meant it as a joke— as an apt comparison!— but his mouth fell open and he started really panting.

You smiled wide.  "Oh, you are…" you sighed.  "Come on, why don't you come out here and have a talk with me?"

"L-let me get my trousers back on—"

"That won't be necessary," you insisted firmly, and there was a pause before he hesitantly stood up and stepped closer to you.  "You're not going to bring your new friend?"

You pointed to the pillow he'd left on the floor, and he bit his lip as he stooped down and picked it up, holding it to cover himself as he approached you.  "I-I hope I haven't offended you…" he whispered.

"Not at all," you nodded.  "Unless you've stained my pillow.  Have you?"

He swallowed and looked to the side. "Erm…"

"Show me," you demanded.

He shakily turned the pillow around, and you smiled at the sight of a small wet patch by the middle.  Your stomach jumped imagining his cock leaking that onto the silk, and you dragged your finger over it.

"All because it smelled like me, huh?" you prompted, and he nodded.  

"You smell divine," he explained, "and it only made me think of how pretty you are when you sleep—"

"How would you know that?"

He froze up.  "I— well, it's— only once—"

You laughed, and he shut his mouth quickly.  "Come on, Ralphie, show me your problem."

"What?"

"Take the pillow away, let me see."

He made a face like he was going to protest, but then he was tucking the pillow under his arm and leaving his open trousers exposed— his cock red from the lack of attention, leaking all over his ginger patch of hair, curling up to his stomach and the trail following beneath his belly button.  Poor thing.

"How long have you been like this?" you asked.

"F-feels like ever since you arrived," he mumbled.  "Every time you visit, it gets like this.  I mean— of course that's not the only time.  But when I think of you… it doesn't want to go away."

"Would you like me to help?" you offered.

He looked stunned, you even saw him stop breathing, but he nodded eagerly.  "I-if you'd like to…" 

You reached forward and wrapped your hand around him at the base, and instantly he tried to rock his hips against your hand.  "No, you've gotta stay still," you ordered.

"Y-yes— I'm sorry," he sighed.  You began with slow, long strokes, watching his foreskin slide up a bit over his head and then move back down.  "Oh, your hands are so soft," he whimpered, "I knew they would be.  I knew it."

"You imagined this?" you presumed, and he nodded quickly.

"Every time I touched myself— I pretended it was you touching me.  But your hands feel so much nicer…"

You smiled a bit and stroked him faster, twisting your hand at the tip, letting his sticky fluid ease your movements.  He started to buck up into your hand a bit, but you didn't correct him this time.  "Such a needy little thing," you whispered to him, "imagining me when you're all by yourself.  It's sweet, really.  I thought of you, too."

"Really?" he gasped, and you nodded.  

"I thought you might be well-behaved.  I didn't know you were just a bad little puppy going around rubbing your cock on pillows."

He whined.  "Darling— I can't… take much more."

You grinned.  "You're going to finish already?"

"Yes," he grunted.

"Yes ma'am."

"Yes… yes, ma'am," he whined.  "Oh, please don't— don't stop!"

You did.  He didn't.

His hips rocked up into the air, into nothing, as he started to come.  It shot out of his cock and landed all over the floor— loads of it, so much it even rolled down his shaft in big white beads, soaking his dishevelled trousers.  You watched with a grin as he made such a mess of himself, eyes shut tightly and mouth open to let out his pathetically loud moans, and waited for him to come down from it.

He did, eventually, catching his breath as he looked down at how much come he'd gotten on the rug.

"Oh," he pouted, "Victoria's going to kill me, she loves this rug."

"Is this a common problem for you?  Leaving messes on the rug?" you smirked.  "Golly, you are just a bad puppy after all."

But the only way to train a bad puppy to be good is with practice.  You established some new rules that day.

First, Ralph was not permitted to touch himself anymore.  A man of his merit shouldn't be debasing himself that way regardless, but a good puppy should tell his owner when he needs to be taken care of.  Immediately, Ralph resented this rule because you only visited for a few months out of the year.  Your compromise was that he could hump as many pillows as he liked while you were gone, but never use his hand on himself— far too uncivilised, really.

Second, Ralph had to begin properly minding his manners.  Please and thank you were vital; yes ma'am and no ma'am were truly paramount.

Third, and maybe the most important, was that if he didn't like something and needed it to stop, he'd have to say 'pamplemousse'.  The actual word was his idea, because only he could come up with something that ridiculous, but the purpose of it was your idea.  You wanted him to understand that part of his training might include things that were hard for him, but that you needed to do— as such, 'no ma'am' might not always be enough to make you stop.

He'd used that word only a few times in nearly a year of these special encounters.  Once because he'd already come twice and being touched just hurt too much.  Once because you said too much about him being naughty and he got scared that you'd leave and find another puppy to play with instead.  And once just because he really needed to go to the bathroom.  Really, he was quite tough and could handle a lot, even a good spanking if he'd earned it.  Even an impulsive, desperate boy like Ralph could learn to be good, after all.

You'd visited a little more frequently ever since, usually for a month or two at a time and never more than six months between visits.  Ralph would write you letters constantly, begging you to visit again soon, asking if you'd thought of him as much as he'd thought of you, telling you about dreams he'd had or books he'd read or just about anything that had happened while you were away.

Of course, you had to visit for his 30th birthday.  He didn't quite act his age… well, he didn't at all, but he was so excited to enter a new decade of his life regardless.  I simply couldn't celebrate at all without you there, he told you in his letter, if you don't come I won't have the party at all, and Victoria will never forgive me.

Obviously, you never had any intention of missing such a special occasion.  You arrived only a week before the party, having to lock away your trunk full of birthday presents for the twins in a closet— otherwise Ralph would likely find it and open them all early.

(He got especially impatient when you'd been away for so long.  It would take a bit of training to get him back to his best behavior.)

And the night of the party, after all this planning, Ralph was like you'd never seen him before.  Jittery with nerves but beside himself with excitement— he had been basically pacing around the entire house all day, mumbling about how he should've had the party start at ten in the morning instead of seven in the evening, even though no party you'd ever heard of started so early.

He was inconsolably anxious and yet happy, and kept going on about how long he'd been waiting to see you again and how happy he was that you were here.

Of course, he made that obvious when he couldn't even make it through the entire carriage ride back from the train station without begging literally on his knees for some attention.  You only ignored him for a second before he started humping your leg, rambling about how pretty your stockings were, insisting that he'd been so good without you and just needed his reward.

He got his reward: you let him finish in his trousers and kiss your feet as an apology, until your good nature took over— then, you held his face and wiped away his tears and gave him a proper kiss on the mouth.  "Missed you, puppy," you whispered to him, and he threw his arms around you.  You held each other the rest of the ride to his estate.

As you watched him run all around his party, you were sure he would wear himself out any minute now.  Still, he seemed to have infinite energy all the way through the night, even as the guests were leaving— even once Victoria had passed out in the tea room and you had told him you were retiring for the evening any moment now.  He should, too, with how disheveled he looked— his bowtie hanging loosely around his neck, his shirt unbuttoned and cumberbund askew.

Still, you saw the little pout on his lips when you told him that you’d be going to sleep yourself soon; you chuckled quietly.  "What's the matter?" you asked.

"I… nothing," he assured, "it's nothing at all.  I had the most wonderful time— and I'm glad you could come.  You know I would've never stopped grieving if you missed such a special birthday."

"I could never miss it, Ralph," you promised, "not for the world."

You gave him a small kiss on the cheek.  "Are you really going to bed so early?" he asked.

"It's nearly three," you reminded him.

"Yes, but—" he choked.

"Let me at least get into my nightclothes, and if you're still awake, I'll call for you."

He swallowed nervously.  "Ma'am, I'll stay up for a week waiting for you."

You smiled.  "I'm sure.  Just entertain yourself for a bit, please, Ralph."

You changed from your party attire into something you could sleep in— and something you knew would make your poor puppy get all dry in the mouth right away.  Ralph liked how you looked in just about anything, but he had a couple favorites that you'd packed for the trip.

Next, you found the last present, the one you'd hidden best, and set it before you.

You listened to the silence for a second, wondering if he was still outside your room.  "Ralphiiiiee," you sang to him, and you laughed as you heard him come bounding down the hallway.

"Yes, my love?" he asked eagerly as he popped his head in the door.   His expression changed when he saw you laying on the bed, draped in your lace nightgown, the golden-wrapped box waiting in front of you and tied with a red bow.  "Is that…?"

You nodded when his massive brown eyes fell on the gift.  "Yes, Ralphie, that's for you.  I had to get you just one more present."

As if the first eight weren't enough.  "Darling," he cooed, stepping into the bedroom and sitting on the foot of the bed, "you'll spoil me."

"We both know you're already spoiled rotten, Ralphie," you grinned.

"Can I open it, please?" he asked sweetly; minding his manners so well… he hadn't always been like that, he used to struggle more with his impulsivity and even brattiness.  You were so proud to see how far he'd come, and that was what this gift was all about.  He beamed as you nodded, ripping at the paper until he could pop the lid off the paper box.

You saw his eyes water as he looked at the gift inside, a baby blue silk collar, decorated with tiny roses and a bow at the front— you figured that would look quite handsome since he wore bowties so often anyways.  Best of all, it had a dangling silver tag bearing his engraved name and a tiny little bell, too, so you'd always know where he was.

Ralph stared at it for a moment before looking at you again.  "It's really mine?" he realized.

"Of course," you smiled.  "I had it made just for you.  I want you to really be my puppy."

He was blushing and smiling shyly, batting those long eyelashes at you.  "Oh… I wanna be your puppy, too.  Love being your puppy."

"I know," you cooed.  "Wanna try it on?"

He nodded quickly, holding the box towards you.  You picked the collar up by each end, and he instantly leaned in and bared his neck for you.

It was a little tricky to buckle the back of it without looking, but his face was just too precious to look anywhere else.  "There," you announced once it was fastened, dropping your hands and leaning back to take in the full sight.  "Wow, what a handsome boy," you praised, grinning when he shyly reaching up to hold his own face.  "Wanna see how you look in your new collar, puppy?"

He all but dragged you to the vanity mirror, and you both admired his reflection quietly.  One of his hands came up to gently brush over the silk, toying with the silver engraved heart.  "Are you sure I've earned it?" he suddenly asked.

Funny question, since he'd be begging for one during your last visit— he insisted constantly that he'd been good enough, that he deserved it.  Now he seemed a little overwhelmed.  "Of course," you promised, "you're the best little puppy in the world.  Do you like it, Ralph?"

"Oh, ma'am— it's perfect," he beamed, hopping up and down just a bit.  "It's wizard!"

You laughed slightly as he spun around and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thank you so much!" he said, a little too loud for how close he was to your ear, but you didn't mind because it just meant he was excited.  He pulled away and turned to see himself in the mirror again, fiddling with it around his neck.

"Is it too tight?" you worried.

"No!  No, I… I like feeling it," he explained, blushing a little harder.

You raised an eyebrow.  "How much do you like it?" you asked, but you didn't need him to answer with words; he watched in the mirror as your hand moved down to the front of his trousers, rubbing his erection as it grew firmer against your touch.  

"Oh, m-ma'am," he choked, "thank you…"

"No, thank you… you've been so good for me for quite a while now," you recalled.  "I wasn't sure if you could be trained, a spoiled brat like you."

He groaned through his teeth briefly.

"But you took to it so well, learned all your lessons, learned sit and stay," you remembered proudly.

"Stay is the hardest," he blurted out, and you grinned.

"Which one is the easiest?" you pressed.

"Come," he decided instantly, making you laugh softly.

"I bet you're right…"

You stopped rubbing the bulge in his pants then, making him whine slightly, but then you reached up to pet his head instead— playing with his hair that had started to fall out of its meticulous style.

"Why don't you show me how good you are?" you prompted him.  "You didn't forget anything I taught you, right?"

"No ma'am," he panted as he turned to face you and dropped to his knees— the bell jingled quietly when he did it, and you smiled.  He grasped at your thighs eagerly through the nightgown.  "I remember everything."

"Let's see it, then," you nodded.

He lifted the see-through fabric and ducked his head under it, kissing your thighs softly.  "Missed you so much," he breathed against your skin.

You felt his tongue slide up the seam of your cunt, and you fought against a shudder; he didn't tease you much, usually too eager to do anything but dive in, but he still learned to ease into it carefully when he could.

He flattened his tongue and gave you another lick, pushing deeper between your lips, and you reached down to the opening of your robe to grab his hair.

It encouraged him even more, and you moaned louder as he did it again and again.  "That's my good boy," you sighed.  "Such a good boy for me, fuck, knows exactly how to use that cute puppy tongue, huh?"

You heard (and felt) him hum softly against you, sucking on your clit while your hole throbbed for him.  Just in time, he broke the seal to stick his tongue inside you and feel it.  "D'you like it?" he asked excitedly.  "It feels like you do— am I doing good?"

"So good," you agreed with a sigh.  "You love pleasing your owner, don't you?"

"Mhm," he hummed as his eyes fell shut, lashes resting on his flushed cheeks.  He put his mouth on you again and suckled harder at your bundle of nerves; your whole body jolted when he accidentally grazed his teeth too hard over the most sensitive spot and you quickly swatted him on the head.

"Bad puppy, no biting," you scolded.

"M'sorry, m'so sorry," he slurred as he kissed all over your thighs apologetically.  "Didn't mean to, ma'am, I swear—"

"It's okay, baby, just keep going," you soothed, sighing with relief as he lapped at you again.  "See?  You're a good boy— fuck, just like that…"

He went on that way for a while, until you felt the pressure building in your gut and a heat spreading inside your channel.

You didn't want him to know how easily he could make you come now, in case it all went to his head; "Lean back, Ralphie, lemme see your new collar again," you instructed with a sigh, giving yourself a break from his perfect tongue on your bud.

He popped his head out from under the robe with a wide smile, lips a little swollen and coated in your slick.  You hooked your finger under the band and tugged at it a bit, just to feel him jolt.

"Look so pretty," you noticed with a sigh.

"Thank you, ma'am," he cooed at the praise.  "You look pretty too— I like looking at you from down here."

"I bet you do," you smirked.  "I bet your cock's real needy now, isn't it?"

He stammered but eventually nodded.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes, ma'am…"

"You can rub it on my foot while you keep going, okay?" you offered.

"Th-thank you," he gasped, and you loved the way he rocked his hips to grind against your bare foot on the floor— your lip caught between your teeth as you imagined him moving that way to thrust inside you, filling you and stretching you—

"Ah, fuck," you gasped, his tongue sliding into you again.  You could feel how hard he was on the curve of your ankle, and you smiled to yourself.  "Keep tasting inside me, Ralphie, doing so good…"

He whined against you, suckling harder at your skin, nose brushing up against your mound while his eyes shut tightly.

"Just a little more," you promised, holding his head by his hair and rocking your hips against him, "mm, just a little longer, puppy…"

“Please come,” you heard him whisper against you, not stopping long enough to properly say it.  “Please, please?”

His sweet begging did help you along, but even better was the way he stuck his tongue out and just let you ride it, rubbing your clit against his wide open mouth.  He was looking up at you with those beautiful eyes, silently pleading for a taste of your pleasure, and you let go: with a groan, you tossed your head back and felt your whole body seize up for a moment— including the hand in his hair, tugging on his delicate curls.

He whined but stayed still.  “G-good boy,” you breathed, slowing down your movements as the pleasure began to subside.

When you let go of his hair, he pulled back and blinked up at you.  "Was that good, ma'am?" he asked excitedly, swallowing and panting; you nodded and he smiled.

"Really good,” you nodded.  “So good, I think you might’ve earned a treat.”

He perked up instantly.

“You want a treat, puppy?" you offered, and he nodded eagerly. 

He watched carefully as you untied your robe and let it fall to the floor, entirely nude as you laid back on the bed.

Usually, you would ride him and watch his face get all twisted up and desperate— sometimes you would bend over and let him hump you as fast and needy as he wanted, if he'd been very good.  But this was rare, laying on your back and spreading your legs for him, letting him see how well he'd eaten you out.

He stripped with preternatural speed, leaving only his collar on, and jumped up onto the bed so fast that the whole mattress bounced a couple times.  You laughed while he climbed up over you, finding his place between your legs.

"I can… I can fuck you, ma'am?" he realized with a smile.

You were hardly done nodding when he gripped his cock tight and guided it to your opening.  He pushed in right away, making you arch your back as he buried himself as deep as he could go.

"You feel so good," he breathed, leaning down over you, "I— I love you."

"I know," you smiled, "I love you, too, puppy."

"No," he whined, "s-say my name when you tell me you love me.  Please?"

"Ralph," you replied, "I love you."

"Oh," he gasped, beginning to move inside you.  He wasn’t too fast at first— which was a bit surprising, usually he got really needy and couldn’t slow down.  It seemed almost like he couldn’t take much more than this yet, like he really needed to go this slowly to ease himself into the feeling.  “Oh— I almost forgot how warm you are… s-so warm inside and… and tight…”

“Does it feel good?” you asked, redundantly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he choked, even sniffling slightly.  Sometimes he got a lot of big feelings when you let him fuck you… it wasn’t that rare at all for him to cry.  You thought it was precious.  “Y-yes, it’s so… s’good, ma’am, feels so nice…”

“Can you fuck me a little harder, puppy?” you encouraged, and he nodded, picking up his pace and hitting his hips on yours just a bit more roughly.  “Mm, that’s nice.  Do you like that, too?”

“Yeah,” he whimpered.  “Can I… can I touch your boobs?”

You snorted for a second.  “They’re breasts, Ralph.”

“R-right, can I touch them?”

You nodded, and he quickly propped himself up on one hand to grope your chest with the other.  You felt his cock flex inside you right away.  “I bet you missed those, too.”

“So much,” he sighed.  

“I missed the way you suck on them, puppy, d’you maybe wanna—?”

His mouth was already around your nipples, suckling eagerly as his eyes fell shut.  He moaned against the skin, and you felt your own walls flex as he flicked his tongue over the firm skin.  “Oh!” he smiled as he pulled back, looking up at you proudly.  “I know you liked that— your pussy gave me a hug.”

“Yeah, I did,” you nodded, “keep going.”

His lips kept a seal around the sensitive skin, his tongue lapping and swirling around emphatically.  He moved back and forth between each one as his hands kept massaging and squeezing you, cheeks hollowing while he sucked harder.

"Fuck," you groaned lowly— it felt great, but the best part was just the way he looked doing it: eyes fallen shut, so focused on his task, lips pink and pursed, jaw accentuated by his open mouth…

He stopped after a few minutes, maybe having noticed that your skin was pricking with goosebumps.  "Am I being good?" he panted.  "A-am I your… your good p-puppy?"

"Yes, baby," you sighed, clutching his arm tight.  "My good little puppy— you feel so good, keep fucking me just like that."

He whined through his teeth and did as he was told.  The metal tag on his collar was dangling right over your face as he thrusted into you, and you smiled as you reached up and toyed with it briefly with one finger.  He smiled a little when he noticed what you were doing.  "I love wearing your collar," he admitted breathlessly.  "I love being yours."

Your heart clenched, as did your walls.  "All mine, puppy?" you pressed.  "My good boy…"

He whined slightly as he dropped his face down into the crook of your neck, fucking you a little faster.  "Y-yes, ma'am, yours— m'yours… oh—"

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you wrapped your legs around his hips to keep him deep inside.  You could tell he was close, doing his best to hold out until you finished.

"Please," he whimpered, and you felt his hands hold your waist tighter.  "Are you close?  Please, just wanna be good for you, please come…."

You would, but maybe not fast enough for him; “S’okay, baby,” you promised, “it’s gonna be okay— look at me, puppy?”

He pulled his face out of the cave created by your shoulder and the pillow, blinking down at you with watery eyes.  You reached up and pet his face, briefly tangling your fingers into his thoroughly-mussed hair.  Your toes were curling, he was doing everything right— and your first orgasm on his face left you still sensitive— you just needed him to pick up the pace to get you there.

“Li’l faster, puppy,” you instructed, and he whimpered but obeyed; “good boy.”

The bell jingled louder above your face as he panted.  "M-ma'am, I can't— I can't—"

"Shh," you soothed, "yes you can, you can hold on a little longer.  'Cause you're my good little puppy, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Shh," you soothed, "just keep going, I'm close—"

"I wanna be good for you, I wanna be good," he chanted breathlessly.  "I'm gonna— please let me stop!"

"Don't fucking stop," you hissed.

"But I'll— ohh," he whimpered.  "I'm not allowed to… I need to pull out."

You smiled proudly.  "That's your last present, puppy.  You can stay inside."

He didn't seem to understand right away— maybe he just couldn't believe it.  "Even when I finish?"

You nodded.  "Just because you're so good…"

"O-oh, thank you," he whined, "thank you— I— unh!"

Of course he hardly lasted a second after that, coming inside you as he clutched at the sheets by your face.  He kept rocking his hips, knocking into your most sensitive spot and sending you over the edge at the same time.  

While the pleasure was swirling in your mind and washing over your body in bright-white heat, he was still fucking into you quickly, still whining loudly above you— his hips were still moving even as tears started to stream down his face, even as the height of your ecstasy was already starting to fade.  

"Puppy, you're still going!" you noticed with a laugh.

"Y-you didn't say I could stop yet," he explained, and you sighed.

"You can stop now," you nodded, and he collapsed onto you with a whine.  "Oh, baby— you did really good…"

He shivered as you traced your fingers along the blemishless, pale expanse of his back.  "Really?" he hiccuped.

"Yes, puppy, so very good.  My good boy."

He hummed happily, if sleepily, above you.  You were impressed he still had all that energy left after his party had raged well into the night; maybe it was just that he couldn’t really rest until he knew he’d been good for you.

You both caught your breath for a moment as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.  

"Don't leave this time."

"Huh?" you mumbled

"Don't leave,” he pleaded.  “Don't go home.  Stay here all the time— the visits aren't enough anymore!"

He wasn’t usually so coherent right after an orgasm— this was normally when he was deepest in his puppy space, basically non-verbal with just little whines and smiles to offer you when you asked how he was feeling.  He liked to get cuddly and sweet and give you lots of kisses, sometimes thanking you for being so nice and letting him come.  This… was new.

Sure, asking you to stay longer, even asking you to stay forever, was well-trod territory.  But that was usually the night before you left or the day you took your carriage back to the train back to your estate far, far away.  Not right after coming with another three weeks of your visit left.  “Please,” he whined quietly into your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Ralph, you know I always have to go back home,” you breathed, “there are always things to be done.  I have my own estate to manage, my… family, my sisters and cousins— my great aunt, she needs to be taken care of, too.  Not just you.”

“But you love me,” he whimpered, and you stroked his back soothingly.

“I do,” you hummed.  “I love you very much.  But for all the reasons you can’t come back with me to my home, I can’t stay here in yours.”

"Can't we just get married?"

Your throat caught.  No, it wasn’t the first time he’d asked.  He admitted not too long ago that he’d wanted to ask for your hand as soon as he met you, but Victoria told him not to— she must’ve known you were in no position to say yes.  “Well—”

“Before you say no again,” he begged, popping his head back up to look at you properly, “just think of how nice it would be!  It would be like this all the time—”

“We’d argue, sometimes,” you interjected.

“And I’m already yours forever,” he explained, “so we might as well—”

“Ralph,” you said sternly, making him clamp his mouth shut and look at you sadly.  “Get off of me and go wash yourself.”

“D-don’t make me leave yet,” he pleaded, but you only gave him a stern look.

Disappointed, almost pouting, Ralph pulled out of you carefully and found some undergarments to put back on; you, meanwhile, slipped on your robe again and lit a cigarette, taking deep breaths through it as you admired the way he sat at the foot of the bed, in only his underwear and brand new collar.  “You look quite handsome, darling,” you told him, but he only glanced at you for a moment.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t marry,” he sighed, “if you really love me.”

You didn’t realize he was still on that.  “Because things are expected of me,” you explained, “my family… they’re very traditional.  I’ve known who I’m supposed to marry since I was a little girl.”

Ralph looked at you, over his shoulder, eyes getting redder.  “You’re promised to someone?”

You nodded.

“Dare I ask whom?”

You felt your face get a little warmer— it was sort of embarrassing to admit.  “Well, I think you know I have a distant cousin with a large inheritance?”

Ralph scoffed as he looked back down into his lap.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew it would upset you,” you explained, “I hoped maybe you’d heard— it’s no secret.”

“No secret?  You let me believe we could be together!” he snapped.

“Watch your tone,” you warned him.

“No!” he yelped standing up.  “I just want to be with you!  N-nothing else has ever made me feel as right as being with you, and you’re going to go marry someone else?  What of me then— I’ll be your, your… mistress?!”

You sighed.  “You’ll find someone else, Ralph.  Anyone should be so lucky to have you—”

“I hate you!” he shouted suddenly, reaching up behind his neck to try to unbuckle the collar.  “Why would you give me this?!”

You sat up, reaching out to try to stop him, but he jumped up and away from you.

“You were lying to me,” he sobbed, “you said you really loved me— you lied!”

He finally managed to get the collar off, throwing it onto the ground and storming out of your room.

You wondered if you should chase after him, or let him have his tantrum and talk in the morning.  Then you remembered that, technically, it was still his birthday.  Or at the very least, it was only a few hours since his birthday ended; you really hadn’t wanted to tell him today, but he was always asking about marriage and commitment, about more than just these occasional visits.  He was bound to find out one way or another.

You sighed, a cloud of smoke rising to the ceiling.  You really shouldn’t have let him find out on his birthday, though…

Putting out the cigarette on a jade ashtray, you got up (finding your legs a little more wobbly than you expected) and stepped out into the hallway.  Ralph was still marching down it defiantly.

“C’mon, Ralph, you can’t go out in just your pants—” you called after him.

“Leave me alone,” he ordered sharply, swinging a door open and slamming it behind him.

You followed him out into the garden, ignoring your own bare-footedness, the cold sod thankfully dry under your soles; he stood facing away from you, arms crossed, staring up at the moon and looking, well… completely ridiculous.  He was almost entirely nude and it was foggy and unpleasant out (not exactly uncharacteristic of London); “Ralphie,” you cooed quietly, and he just sniffled and dropped his head.  “Look at me, please?  I’m sorry.  I should’ve told you from the start.”

He shook his head.  “Wouldn’t’ve made a difference.”

You said nothing, crossing your own arms to cover yourself from the slight evening breeze.

“I can’t change how I feel about you.  It never would’ve been any different, even if I knew.  I would have fallen for you just the same.”

Letting out a long sigh, you nearly got the wind knocked out of you when he spun and snatched you into a tight hug.  “Ralph—” you choked, but he paid no mind to your asphyxiation.

He clung tightly onto the fabric by your waist, dropping his head onto your shoulder and soaking it with his tears.  “We’re supposed to be together,” he insisted, “I know we are.  I know it’s supposed to be you and I— I wanna be your husband, an’ your puppy, and… and anything you want me to be.”

You reached up to wrap your arms around his back.  He stepped closer to you, pressing his whole body against yours. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  “You can’t go— you have to stay.”

“I wish that I could,” you replied, “truly.  But I can’t let my family down.”

“If they really cared for you,” he said quietly, “they’d let you love who you wanted.”

You nodded, knowing that was true, but also knowing that you couldn’t let it make a difference.  For a long time, you kept yourself from feeling the way you feel now about Ralph— because you knew it would hold you back and keep you from doing all that must be done.

“You take care of everybody else,” he announced suddenly, pulling back from the embrace just enough to rest his hand on your face.  “Isn’t that so sad?  You take care of everyone— your sisters and your aunt and even me— but who will take care of you?”

Actually, it wasn’t the first time that Ralph was shockingly insightful; he had his head in the clouds most of the time, so in those rare moments where he randomly blurted out something suddenly thoughtful, it threw everyone off. You knew how smart and intuitive he could be, but even still, you never expected him to say something so flippantly that cut right to your core.

“The man you’re supposed to marry— your cousin, I haven’t even begun to address that,” he frowned, “will he?  Take care of you, I mean.  Because I think maybe I could… live with it.  I could never love someone else, but maybe I could let you go on your way, if I knew he would take care of you better than I could.”

You blinked quickly, staring down at the ground, at your bare feet between his in the garden’s grass— the moonlight making their dark green hue look almost blue-ish.  

“Tell me that he will,” he breathed, suddenly grabbing your face with both his hands and pulling it up to look at him and his wide, wild eyes.  “Tell me that he’ll be good to you or tell me that you’ll stay and be my wife.”

“I… I don’t,” you whispered, searching for words and only finding pesky emotions.  “I don’t even think I’d know where to start, being taken care of.”

He smiled wide as he clutched your face, squishing your cheeks, and you scrunched up your nose and tried to writhe away.

“Ralphie, c’mon,” you pouted, breaking out of his embrace, only for him to grab you and hug you tighter again.

“Let me try,” he pleaded, voice soft yet… hopeful.  “Let me try, love, I’ll teach you how.  R’member what you said to me when I first told you that I loved you?”

Can’t help it, he’d hiccuped after another scolding for naughtiness, jus’ love you too much.

All right, you’d replied, but you need to behave.

Dunno how…

And you’d pet him on the head to help him calm down a bit.  I’ll take care of you, puppy.  I’ll teach you how to behave.  

“I remember,” you sighed.

“I wanna take care of you, too,” Ralph insisted.  “I know I’m not s-strong, or… all that masculine, I suppose.  But I love you so much that I think I could do anything.”

You didn’t notice that you were crying until he started to kiss all over your face, kissing your tears away, too.  You giggled and gently pushed on his bare chest to try to escape from the onslaught of affection.

“I think I could be anything!” he announced excitedly, clutching your shoulders as he stood up straight and looked at you.  “I could even be the man you need.  If you just tell me who he is.”

You smiled and brushed one of his tears, left behind in a stripe along his cheek from his outburst, away with your fingers.  “You’re already right here, Ralph.”

He pulled you into a kiss— not desperate, not needy, just warm and soft and all-encompassing.  You draped your arms around his shoulders, humming into it, feeling this bizarre-but-lovely sort of feeling in your chest.  Optimism, maybe?  This was all very new to you.  “Say yes, then,” he mumbled against your lips.  “Say you’ll let me marry you.”

You nodded; you could hardly believe it yourself, but you nodded.

“No, say it,” he insisted, and you broke away from the kiss just far enough to reply.

“I’ll marry you,” you agreed.  He smiled wide and did a happy little jump, quickly pecking you on the cheek again.

“I’m gonna make you so happy, darling, n’take such good care of you,” he promised, “really— you won’t regret it.”

“I’m sure,” you smiled, letting him hug you tight and jostle you around for a moment.  “Okay!  Settle down, now…”

“How could I?  This is the best birthday ever!”

He made you laugh again by showering you in more kisses, on your face and neck and shoulders, mumbling all his promises to do everything he could to be the best husband who ever lived.  It was extravagant, but Ralph wasn’t an especially subtle guy— nor a realistic one.

“I’ll adore you constantly,” he promised between pecks along your jaw, “and— and I’ll buy you whatever you like—”

“That doesn’t matter,” you rolled your eyes, but your stomach was all jittery with excitement anyways.

“I’ll never let anything hurt you,” he went on, and somehow you really felt that you believed him, even if your quieting cynical side swore that those sorts of dreams just don’t come true.  “And we’re going to be so happy— I swear, darling, the happiest people who ever lived.”

You opened your mouth to disagree, to try to keep the both of you from getting your hopes up, but he captured it in another long kiss; by the time it was over, you’d forgotten what you were going to say.  “I love you,” you said instead.

“Love you more,” he cooed as he pecked you on the nose, though he shivered as another gust of breeze shook the shrubberies and tickled his delicate skin.  “Can we go back in now?” he asked with a pout.  “It’s so cold.”

“You’re naked,” you reminded him.

“And I’m cold!” he whined.  “I wanna put my collar back on.”

“Won’t do much for the cold,” you warned, the two of you walking hand-in-hand back to the house.

“No, it won’t,” he agreed, “neither will that ring I bought when you first came to visit us.  But you’ll have to put that on, too.”

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters fic #ralph timewasters smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction

[squigglebottom]

#ralph timewasters #joseph quinn

[frogers]

HOW ARE THEY PLAYED BY THE SAME PERSON????

#sunny speaks #it's so hard to imagine #it's like u just deepfaked joseph's face on his characters #eddie and ralph feel like real people who are not joseph quinn #i can't explain it #he is just that good at acting #actors are chameleons #i know it's their job but it should matter that they're good at it #joseph quinn #eddie munson #ralph timewasters

[babybluebex]

okay but the ask about giving ralph kissies 🥺 do you think maybe we can get a little blurb of that please? like the cupping his cheeks and admiring him before actually kissing him?

ugh YES ralph deserves ALL the kissies

"Ralphie," you cooed, moving on the couch to get at your husband. He sat on the floor, leaned up against the couch as he strummed at his ukulele, and he instantly stopped what he was doing and looked at you with those beautiful dark eyes he had.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, and you bit the tip of your tongue as you reached over to him and captured his cheeks between your palms.

"You're so pretty," you told him, and you felt his cheeks warm under your hands as a flush invaded his skin. It turned the tips of his ears pink and, even though his shirt collar was high, you knew his neck was turning pink as well. "My pretty boy... Give me a kiss, darling."

Ralph immediately clambered up to reach your lips, and he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. He was smiling, and he hummed happily once the kiss broke. "Thank you," he said, and you jokingly frowned when he tried to pull away.

"I'm not done with you," you chuckled, and Ralph grinned, his smile nearly touching his ears. You kissed him again, soft on his twitching lips, then you went to his cheeks, settling smooches on the apples and his little dimple. Ralph was practically vibrating with joy, sitting on the floor as you showered him in kisses, and you gave a quick "Oops!" when you saw that your lipstick had left marks everywhere you had kissed him, his cheeks and nose and forehead. "I'm sorry, darling."

"Don't be sorry," Ralph said, and his fingers rose to touch at his cheek, some of your pink lipstick transferring onto his fingertips. "I'm leaving them, I'll carry your love around with me all day."

"You're too cute," you told him, and you placed one more big kiss on his lips.

#bex answers #anon ask #anon request #ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph timewasters x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #bex’s drabbles