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smilingformoney · 6 hours
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anyway the actual point of fandom is to inspire each other. reading each other's fics and admiring each other's art and saying wow i love this and i feel something and i want to invoke this in other people, i want to write a sentence that feels like a meteor shower, i want to paint a kiss with such tenderness it makes you ache, i want to create something that someone else somewhere will see it and think oh, i need to do that too, right now. i am embracing being a corny cunt on main to say inspiring each other is one of the things humanity is best at and one of the things fandom is built for and i think that's beautiful
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smilingformoney · 20 hours
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every friedman moment ever (73/74)
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smilingformoney · 2 days
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every lionel moment ever (55/73)
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smilingformoney · 2 days
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ME RN
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Your sentence
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Summary: Turpin and his wife deal with their pregnancy, and have some quality time together, before he pronounces her sentence.
Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnant sex, smut, nausea and self-criticism.
Author's Notes: Greetings, esteemed audience! Welcome back to the latest escapades of Turpin and his bun-in-the-oven wife. Believe it or not, I actually managed to pen this chapter in the ungodly hours of dawn, and wait for it... I even gave it a makeover! *Busts out into an impromptu victory dance* Now, here's the million-dollar question: Is Turpin still recognizable, or have I accidentally turned him into a unicorn-loving, tea-sipping ninja? Your feedback is as precious as gold, so spill the beans.
First, Second and Third part here.
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As you sat in the bathtub, the warm water soothing your tired muscles, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relaxation wash over you. The maid's gentle ministrations as she rubbed your back only added to the blissful sensation, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully indulge in the moment.
However, your peaceful reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and you tensed as you heard Turpin's stoic voice. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there, his expression impassive as he observed the scene before him.
"Taking quite a long time with your bath, aren't you?" he remarked, his tone cool and detached.
You felt a pang of guilt at his words, knowing that you had been indulging in the luxury of the bath for longer than usual. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, quickly attempting to apologize. "I'll be finished soon, I promise."
But Turpin ignored your apology, waving the maid to leave. The maid quickly excused herself and left the room, leaving you alone with your husband. His intense gaze bore into you, and you felt yourself becoming nervous under his scrutiny. Instinctively, you wanted to hide from him, but you knew that Turpin didn't like it when you hid.
As he walked closer, you couldn't help but notice the slight limp in his step, a reminder of the pain he was still experiencing from the previous night. You bit your lip, feeling a surge of guilt at the sight of his discomfort.
"What are you doing?" you asked, unable to stop yourself from voicing your curiosity as Turpin began to undress.
Turpin sighed lightly, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Taking a shower," he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It'll be quicker if we both shower together."
You blinked in surprise at his suggestion, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. "Oh," you mumbled, feeling foolish for not realizing his intentions sooner.
Turpin chuckled softly at your reaction, though there was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. "You always did have a knack for asking obvious questions," he teased gently, his voice lacking its usual edge of cruelty.
You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at Turpin's lighter demeanor. As he finished undressing, revealing his half-hard cock, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect of showering together.
Turpin noticed your hesitation and stepped closer, his gaze softening as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle and caring. "I know things have been difficult between us, but I want you to know that I'm trying. I really am."
Touched by his sincerity, you leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through your chest. "I know, Richard," you replied softly, meeting his gaze with an earnest expression. "And I appreciate it more than you know."
With a small smile, Turpin settled into the bathtub across from you and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that the tub was spacious enough for both of you. The warm water enveloped you both, soothing away the tensions of the day and allowing you to relax in each other's company.
"Is your hip still bothering you?" you asked softly, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to gently touch Turpin's thigh.
Turpin nodded slightly, his expression thoughtful. "A little," he admitted reluctantly. "But it's much better after the healing ointment. Thank you for that."
You smiled warmly at his gratitude, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having been able to provide him with some measure of relief. As Turpin leaned back in the bathtub, he motioned for you to come closer, his gaze softening as he met your eyes.
"Come here," he murmured, his voice gentle and inviting. "I want you to bathe me."
Your heart fluttered at his request, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Swallowing back your apprehension, you obeyed, getting on your knees in the bathtub and inching closer to Turpin until you were within arm's reach.
As you reached out to cup water in your hands and pour it over Turpin's chest, you couldn't help but notice the gray strands mingling with the black hair that covered his chest. Despite his imposing demeanor, there was a vulnerability in the way he allowed you to care for him, a vulnerability that touched something deep within you.
Turpin watched you intently as you bathed him, his gaze lingering on your breasts, which seemed fuller today than they had yesterday. A flicker of desire flashed in his eyes, and you felt a flush of heat spreading across your cheeks at the realization that he was observing you so closely.
With steady hands, you continued to bathe Turpin, washing away the day's grime and tension as you worked. His skin was warm and smooth beneath your touch, a stark contrast to the rough exterior he often presented to the world.
As you reached up to wash his face, Turpin leaned into your touch, his eyes closing in contentment. You couldn't help but marvel at the intimacy of the moment, the simple act of caring for each other forging a connection between you that felt stronger than any words could convey.
However, your peaceful moment was shattered when you suddenly felt something warm trickling down your chest. Startled, you looked down, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realized that you were leaking breast milk again. Gasping at the unexpected sensation, you quickly withdrew your hands from Turpin's body, feeling a surge of embarrassment washing over you.
Turpin, noticing your sudden movement, opened his eyes to look at you, his expression shifting from relaxation to curiosity. His gaze fell upon your leaking breasts, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features before a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was almost as if he found the sight of you leaking milk to be divine, stirring something primal within him.
As you attempted to excuse yourself from the bathtub, flustered and embarrassed by the situation, Turpin reached out to stop you, his voice low and commanding. "No," he insisted, his tone firm. "Stay."
You hesitated, unsure of what to do, but Turpin's unwavering gaze held you in place. With a reluctant sigh, you acquiesced, settling back into the warm water as Turpin's eyes lingered on your leaking breasts.
Feeling self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, you tried to divert his attention away from your embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I don't know why this keeps happening."
Turpin's expression softened as he reached out to gently caress your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his usual demeanor. "There's nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, his voice soothing. "It's a natural part of pregnancy and childbirth. Besides, I find it... intriguing."
You blinked in surprise at his admission, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected reaction. Turpin, noticing your uncertainty, leaned in closer, his gaze darkening with desire as he reached out to cup your leaking breast in his hand.
The sensation of his touch sent a shiver of arousal coursing through you, and you couldn't help but gasp at the intimate contact. Turpin's eyes gleamed with hunger as he watched the milk dribble from your nipple, his own arousal evident as his gaze flickered down to the growing bulge between his legs.
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Turpin leaned forward, his lips capturing your leaking nipple in a hungry kiss. You gasped at the sudden contact, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body as Turpin began to suckle greedily at your breast.
His rough, yet surprisingly skilled ministrations left you breathless, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as you arched your back, offering yourself up to him completely. Turpin groaned around your nipple, his own arousal evident as his cock throbbed against your thigh, desperate for release.
As Turpin continued to suckle at your breast, his movements growing more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The combination of his touch and the warmth of the water surrounding you sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, threatening to consume you entirely.
With a primal growl, Turpin released your nipple from his mouth, his eyes dark with desire as he met your gaze. "I need you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with raw need. "Now."
You nodded eagerly, your own desire burning hot and fierce within you as you reached out to guide Turpin's throbbing cock towards your aching core. With a shared gasp of pleasure, he entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely as he claimed you as his own.
The sensation of being joined with him in such an intimate way was overwhelming, and you cried out in ecstasy as he began to move within you, his movements strong and sure as he drove you both towards the edge of oblivion.
Lost in the throes of ecstasy, you began to move with him, your hips rising and falling in rhythm with his thrusts. Each movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge of blissful release.
Turpin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he continued to suckle at your breast, his other hand trailing teasingly down your spine. You gasped at the intimate contact, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter and brighter with each passing moment.
You continued bouncing on your husband's cock, enjoying the wave of pleasure building inside you, as Turpin released your nipple and buried his nose between your breasts, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to imprint your scent into his memory. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure throughout your body, and you couldn't help but whimper in response, desperate for more of his touch.
Turpin held your hips tightly, his movements growing slower and more deliberate as he fought to prolong the exquisite torture of your shared pleasure. He knew he couldn't last much longer at his age, and he was determined to savor every moment of your intimacy together.
You whimpered in frustration, craving the release that seemed just out of reach. But Turpin held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he slowed his movements to a tantalizing pace. The ache between your legs grew more intense with each passing second, driving you to the brink of madness as you begged for mercy.
As you felt the familiar coil of pleasure building within you, you couldn't help but plead with Turpin, desperate for him not to deny you your orgasm once again. "Please, Richard," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Don't stop. I need to cum. Please."
Turpin's expression softened slightly at your plea, his baritone voice low and husky as he complied with your request. Without a word, he pressed his thumb against your swollen clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as he continued to thrust into you.
The sensation was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With each stroke of Turpin's thumb, you felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, driving you closer and closer to the brink of release.
And then, finally, it happened. With a shuddering gasp, you felt the wave of orgasm wash over you, your entire body convulsing with pleasure as you clung to Turpin desperately. He watched you intently, his gaze filled with satisfaction as he held you close, reveling in the sight of your surrender.
As you collapsed against him, panting and exhausted from the intensity of your climax, Turpin waited patiently for you to catch your breath. With a gentle hand, he encouraged you to climb out of him, and you did so reluctantly, watching him curiously as he stood up from the tub, you standing up as well, confused.
But before you could react, Turpin grabbed your shoulder and pushed you down, forcing you to your knees. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, a mixture of apprehension and arousal coursing through you. Turpin instructed you to keep your breasts together, his voice low and commanding as he expressed his desire to cum on them.
You obeyed without hesitation, though a part of you found the request to be somewhat dirty. But Turpin seemed to revel in the idea, his eyes dark with desire as he grabbed his penis with his fist and began to touch himself.
The sight of your pregnant wife on her knees in front of him, holding her beautiful breasts together for him, was enough to send Turpin over the edge. With a primal growl, he released himself, his hot seed spurting out in thick, white ribbons as it landed on your waiting chest.
You gasped at the sensation, feeling the warm liquid coating your skin as Turpin continued to stroke himself, milking every last drop of pleasure from his release. He watched you intently, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you covered in his cum.
As the last of his orgasm faded, Turpin finally released his grip on his cock, letting it fall limp against his thigh. With a satisfied sigh, he reached out to help you out of the tub, his touch surprisingly gentle as he guided you to your feet.
Despite the lingering sense of dirtiness that lingered in the air, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having pleased Turpin. And as you stood there, chest heaving and skin glistening with his cum, you couldn't help but wonder what other pleasures lay in store for you both.
Days later, the atmosphere between you and Turpin remained charged with tension, yet there was a subtle shift in his demeanor towards you. While he still maintained his authoritarian and cruel facade, there were moments of unexpected kindness and gentleness that he reserved exclusively for you.
Today was one of those rare days when Turpin seemed determined to be good to you, despite his usual impatience and short temper. You were feeling particularly unwell due to the pregnancy, the mere smell of food making you nauseous, and your emotions were on edge, causing you to cry at the slightest provocation.
And Turpin had been surprisingly patient with your mood swings, but as the day wore on, even his patience began to wear thin. The sound of your constant crying grated on his nerves, testing the limits of his resolve to be kind to you.
That night, as you sat in the opulent dining room of your mansion, eating the food with little appetite, Turpin's patience was finally reaching its limit. He listened impatiently as you sobbed uncontrollably, your tears flowing freely as you lamented feeling fat and unattractive.
Despite his efforts to remain calm, Turpin couldn't help but feel frustrated by your outburst. He had tried his best to be understanding and supportive, but your constant emotional turmoil was starting to fray the last of his patience. But Turpin controlled himself not to say anything, his jaw clenched as he continued eating. His patience had worn thin, worn threadbare by the relentless stream of tears and self-deprecating remarks that seemed to flow endlessly from you. Every sob felt like a dagger to his already frayed nerves, but he held his tongue, unwilling to lash out in anger.
But later, when the two of you retreated to the privacy of your bedroom, your tears continued to flow unabated. You sat on the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking with each sob as you lamented feeling fat and unattractive. The weight of your pregnancy seemed to hang heavily on you, and Turpin could see the toll it was taking on your self-esteem.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Turpin rose from his seat on the bed, his expression dark and brooding. He crossed the room with purposeful strides, his baritone voice low and menacing as he approached you.
With a firm hand, Turpin pulled you out of bed and forced you to look in the mirror, your head throbbing from the strength of his grip on your hair. As you whimpered in pain, your eyes met his in the reflection, searching for some semblance of mercy in his dark, brooding gaze.
"You are mine," Turpin growled, his voice a low rumble of suppressed anger. "And no one insults something that is mine. Do you fucking understand? I'm tired of hearing your damn cries!"
You nodded meekly, unable to muster the courage to speak as Turpin's harsh words echoed in your ears. His cruelty was a reminder of the power he held over you, a power that both terrified and fascinated you in equal measure.
But then, to your surprise, Turpin's demeanor softened slightly as he released his grip on your hair, his hand moving to cup your chin. Through the mirror, you met his gaze, confusion and apprehension swirling in your eyes.
Instead of berating you further, Turpin spoke with unexpected tenderness. "Look at yourself," he instructed, his voice gentle yet firm. "You're not fat. You're pregnant, carrying my child. You should be proud, not criticizing yourself."
You swallowed back the lump in your throat, your eyes misting with unshed tears at his unexpected kindness. Turpin's words struck a chord deep within you, reminding you of the precious life growing inside you and the love you shared with him, despite the complexities of your relationship.
Turpin's hand lingered on your chin, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as he continued to speak. "You look beautiful pregnant," he murmured, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. "You don't know how much it turns me on. You drive me crazy, damn woman."
A blush spread across your cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal flooding through you. Turpin's desire for you was both thrilling and intimidating, awakening a hunger within you that you didn't fully understand.
Before you could stop yourself, you hesitated, biting your lip nervously before voicing a hesitant request. "Richard," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Could... could you... fuck me in front of this mirror?"
Turpin's eyes darkened with desire at your request, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You want to see yourself, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky with anticipation. "Well, who am I to refuse such a request?"
With that, Turpin moved away from you and began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched you through the mirror. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, the sight of his muscular frame and thick, gray-streaked chest hair sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.
Emboldened by his response, you obeyed his unspoken command and began to undress as well, your hands trembling slightly as you shed your clothes. Turpin watched you intently, his gaze filled with hunger as he waited for you to join him.
When you were both naked, Turpin caught you from behind in front of the full-length mirror, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he positioned you to his liking. You held onto the frame of the mirror for support, your heart racing with anticipation as you prepared yourself for penetration.
But Turpin surprised you, dropping to his knees behind you and burying his face between your thighs. You leaned forward, gasping in surprise as his tongue delved between your thighs, exploring your folds with fervent determination. Your grip on the mirror frame tightened as waves of pleasure washed over you, your moans echoing in the spacious room.
Turpin's hands spread your ass cheeks apart, granting him better access to your dripping slit. His tongue worked wonders, licking and kissing every inch of your sensitive flesh, coaxing delicious sounds of pleasure from your lips. You couldn't help but arch your back, pushing your hips back against him, craving more of his tantalizing touch.
"R-richard," you moaned his name, the sound coming out as a breathless plea for more. His response was a deep growl of approval, his ministrations growing more fervent as he teased and taunted your throbbing clit.
Lost in the throes of ecstasy, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through your veins. But Turpin's voice cut through the haze of pleasure, commanding you to keep your eyes open if you wanted to see yourself.
With a gasp, you obeyed his directive, forcing your eyes open to gaze upon your reflection in the mirror. The sight of yourself, flushed and panting with desire, only served to heighten the intensity of the moment, sending a shiver of arousal coursing through you.
Turpin stood up behind you, his erect penis glistening with your juices as he spread them along his length. He commented on how hard you made him, his voice thick with desire as he confessed the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind.
"You torment me, you know," he murmured huskily, his breath hot against your ear. "Every moment I spend with you, I ache to possess you completely. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to walk around with an erection, knowing that you're the cause of it?"
His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within your core. Turpin's desire for you was intoxicating, drawing you further into the depths of passion with each passing moment.
With a primal growl, Turpin positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he prepared to claim you as his own. You braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pleasure, knowing that with Turpin, there was no escaping the overwhelming intensity of his desire.
Turpin entered you slowly, his thick, hard cock sliding into your wetness with deliberate intent. You moaned softly at the sensation of being filled by him, your walls clenching around him eagerly. But when Turpin noticed your eyes closed, he reached out and tugged on your hair, pulling you back with a growl.
"Keep your eyes in the mirror," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "I want you to watch as I fuck you, every thrust, every moan."
You whimpered at his words, a shiver of arousal coursing through you as Turpin used your hair as leverage, pulling you against his cock. "Yes, Judge Turpin," you gasped, your voice filled with need. "I'll keep my eyes on you, Your Honor."
Turpin's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he began to pound into you with increasing intensity. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"You're so beautiful," Turpin murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Absolutely beautiful. How could you ever think you were anything less than that?"
You moaned at his words, the sensation of his cock filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Turpin's hands roamed over your body possessively, tracing the curves of your hips and waist as he claimed you as his own.
With each thrust, Turpin's cock hit that sweet spot deep within you, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You couldn't help but moan his name, the sound filling the room as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure he provided.
"Judge Turpin," you cried out, your voice filled with longing. "Your Honor, please... fuck me harder."
Turpin's growl of approval echoed in the room as he complied with your request, his thrusts becoming even more intense as he pounded into you relentlessly. You lost yourself in the rhythm of his movements, the pleasure building within you until you felt like you were on the brink of madness.
As Turpin's cock continued to pound into you, you felt the coil of pleasure tightening within you, threatening to consume you entirely. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing as he released himself in a powerful climax.
You cried out in ecstasy as you felt his hot seed spilling inside you, filling you with a sense of completion and satisfaction. Turpin held you tightly against him, his grip unyielding as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging the exquisite torture of your shared pleasure.
"Your Honor," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm yours, completely yours."
Turpin's only response was a satisfied growl as he continued to claim you as his own, each thrust driving you both further into the depths of passion and desire. In that moment, you knew that despite the complexities of your relationship, there was a connection between you and Turpin that transcended everything else.
As Turpin calmed himself inside you, his movements slowing and becoming more tender, he reached down to rub your clit gently, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips. You arched your back, pressing closer to him as he watched your expression of pure ecstasy through the mirror, his eyes filled with admiration and desire.
"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful," Turpin murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection as he held you close. With one hand supporting your belly where the baby was growing, he continued to soothe you through your orgasm, his touch gentle and reassuring.
In that moment, Turpin couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt wash over him. He knew he didn't deserve you, didn't deserve the love and devotion you showed him every day. But he was selfish, a bastard who couldn't bear the thought of being without you. You were his, his beautiful and incomparable woman, who saw past his flaws and loved him despite everything.
As Turpin led you to the bed, laying you down gently before retrieving a damp cloth from the suite bathroom, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight of you. You sighed happily as he cleaned you, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you gazed up at him.
Once you were cleaned, Turpin set the cloth aside and went to the front of the wardrobe, intending to change into his sleeping pajamas. But as he glanced inside, his eyes fell upon his judge's wig, neatly arranged on the shelf. A smile tugged at his lips as he reached for it, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Returning to the bed, Turpin ordered you to sit down, and you obeyed without question. With a playful laugh, he placed the judge's wig on your head, watching with amusement as it practically swallowed you whole. You looked ridiculous in his judge wig, and you couldn't help but laugh too as you caught sight of yourself in the full-length mirror.
"It suits you, my dear," Turpin chuckled, his voice filled with warmth as he watched you. "Though perhaps a bit too big for your head."
You were surprised that he put the wig on you, when some time ago he scolded you for wearing the wig that he said was not a toy, but you ignored that, knowing that your husband was complicated and unpredictable, changing his mind and mood quickly.
Turpin leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he spoke. "Perhaps we should keep this little game between ourselves," he suggested, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I wouldn't want anyone else to see my esteemed judge looking so... absurd."
You couldn't help but play along, adopting a stern expression as you tried to imitate his husky voice. "Richard William Turpin," you proclaimed, your voice low and authoritative, "you are hereby sentenced to spend the rest of your days locked up."
Turpin raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, his lips twitching with amusement. "And what are the charges against me, Your Honor?" he inquired, his tone dripping with feigned innocence.
You poked his chest with your finger, trying to maintain your composure despite the playful glint in his eyes. "Your crimes," you declared, "are of causing sinful pleasures in maidens, seducing innocent maidens with your perverse charms."
Turpin's lips curved into a smirk at your words, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And what is my punishment, Judge?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
"You will spend the rest of your life locked in with me," you replied, trying to sound stern despite the laughter bubbling up inside you. "That is your sentence."
Turpin's smirk widened into a grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I must say, Your Honor," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "that sounds like a punishment I could learn to enjoy."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, the tension of earlier melting away as you enjoyed the playful banter with your husband. With a playful glint in your eye, you reached up and removed the judge's wig from your head, placing it on Turpin's instead.
"Your turn," you challenged him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Let's see if you can do better."
Turpin straightened up, adjusting the wig on his head with a smirk. As he adopted a more serious expression, his voice took on a low, authoritative tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
"In the case of Mrs. Turpin," he began, his voice filled with gravitas, "I find you guilty of stealing my heart and disrupting the peace of my mind."
You couldn't help but hold your breath as Turpin continued, his voice unwavering as he delivered your sentence. "Your punishment, my dear, is to serve me for the rest of your life. You will keep me satisfied, attend to my every need, and be by my side until the end of time. You are stuck with me forever, even when I draw my last breath. You shall not have another man in your life; you are mine, and you will always be, just like I am yours."
You were taken aback by the intensity with which Turpin spoke, the gravity of his words sinking in as you realized the depth of his desire and possessiveness. Instinctively, you reached out and cupped his cheek, searching his eyes for some semblance of understanding.
"Richard," you murmured softly, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "Do you truly mean what you say? Do you truly believe that I belong to you, and you to me? Are you my Richard?"
Turpin's expression softened at your touch, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of cruelty he often wore. He leaned into your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm as he spoke.
"Yes, my dear," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere. "I am already yours. I was sentenced as yours the moment I saw you for the first time. You captured my heart, and I have been yours ever since."
You couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion at his confession, the realization that despite his flaws and shortcomings, Turpin truly cared for you in his own twisted way. As he leaned in to kiss you, you melted into his embrace, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.
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smilingformoney · 3 days
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every lionel moment ever (10/73)
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smilingformoney · 3 days
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smilingformoney · 4 days
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every lionel moment ever (58/73)
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every lionel moment ever (68/73)
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smilingformoney · 5 days
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Learning to love
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Summary: Love exists, but both just need to learn to show it.
Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Foul language, pregnant sex, breast milk, obscenity, orgasm denial and spanking.
Author's Notes: Ah, buckle up for a wild ride! So, I might be straying a little from Judge Turpin's character, but hey, who doesn't love a little mellow Turpin every now and then, right? Plus, I had so much fun writing this! And let's be real, we all deserve a dose of cute Turpin every now and then, don't we? So, without further ado, here is the epic story of Turpin's unexpected soft side! (But not too much because he's Judge Turpin.) And hey, full disclosure, I didn't fully proofread this chapter because, well, lazy mode is on! Let's dive in and enjoy the madness together! 🚀
First and Second part here.
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As Judge Turpin mingled with high-ranking men at the ball hosted by the Byrons, he felt a sense of discomfort gnawing at him. The lavish festivities were not his preferred environment, but he knew the importance of ingratiating himself with these influential individuals.
As the conversation turned to Turpin's wife, the simple peasant girl he had chosen to marry, he bristled inwardly. He sipped his wine with a cold expression, his brown eyes flashing with a hint of irritation at the mention of her.
The men around him exchanged knowing glances, their voices filled with condescension as they discussed Turpin's unconventional choice of spouse. One of them scoffed at the idea, suggesting that it would have been wiser for Turpin to marry a woman of noble birth, someone with wealth and social standing.
Turpin's nostrils flared with barely contained anger, but he maintained his composure, knowing that losing his temper would only undermine his position further. Instead, he offered a tight-lipped smile, his voice dripping with disdain as he defended his wife's honor.
"My wife knows her place," he stated coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I have taught her well."
But despite his outward display of confidence, Turpin couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he glanced over at you, his pregnant wife, surrounded by curious women eager to feel the life growing inside you. He despised the attention you garnered, feeling a possessive jealousy burning within him as others laid their hands on what was rightfully his.
However, he forced himself to maintain his facade of indifference, his gaze hardening as he watched the women fussing over you. To the men around him, he projected an air of superiority, refusing to let their mockery affect him.
As the women fussed over you, their hands reaching out to touch your pregnant belly, you felt like a spectacle on display. You couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under their scrutinizing gazes, their curious whispers only adding to your unease.
Just as you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by the attention, Turpin intervened. With a cold and authoritative aura, he strode over to you, his mere presence enough to scatter the women like frightened birds. His brown eyes bore into yours, stoic and almost angry, as he held out his hand, demanding that you come dance with him.
Relieved to escape the suffocating attention, you eagerly accepted his offer, extending your gloved hand to grasp his. Despite the formalities of the occasion, you couldn't help but notice the heat of his hand seeping through the fabric, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
Without a word, Turpin led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and reassuring as he guided you through the crowd of other couples. The musicians played a lively tune, setting the mood for the evening's festivities as you fell into step with your husband.
Turpin's grip on your hand was firm and commanding, his brown eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of something else in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter with anticipation.
The dance itself would have been almost graceful if not for the hindrance of your pregnant belly. Turpin guided you through the steps of the dance with skill and precision, his movements fluid and effortless. His hooked nose and stern expression seemed oddly fitting for the elegant dance, adding an air of authority to his every move.
As you circled each other on the dance floor, your hands barely touching, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with your husband. It was the second time you had danced with him since your marriage, and despite his usual aversion to such activities, you couldn't help but wonder if it was the drink that had encouraged this sudden decision.
"Thank you," you whispered quietly as you twirled past him, your voice barely audible over the music. "The women were suffocating me with so much attention."
But Turpin seemed to ignore your words, his gaze fixed on yours as he led you through the intricate steps of the dance. His baritone voice was deep and commanding as he spoke, his words tinged with an air of authority that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you.
"Focus on the dance, my dear," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music. "Let everything else fade away."
You nodded obediently, losing yourself in the rhythm of the dance as you followed Turpin's lead. Despite the physical limitations imposed by your pregnancy, you moved with a grace and elegance that surprised even yourself.
As you glided across the dance floor with Turpin, the atmosphere crackled with an undeniable tension, palpable even amidst the elegant movements of the dance. Turpin's grip on your hand was firm yet strangely electrifying, his brown eyes boring into yours with a fervent intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
Despite the formalities of the occasion, there was an undeniable magnetism between you and Turpin, a raw, unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface. As you moved in perfect harmony with him, your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, unaware of the turmoil raging within Turpin's heart.
To you, the dance was a moment of pure bliss, a chance to lose yourself in the music and the movement. But to Turpin, it was something else entirely—a tantalizing dance of seduction, each step bringing him closer to the object of his desire.
As you twirled past him, your eyes sparkling with exhilaration, Turpin couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart hammered in his chest as he drank in your beauty, the soft curve of your cheek, the delicate arch of your neck, the way your dress hugged your body in all the right places.
But you remained oblivious to his silent admiration, lost in the thrill of the dance as you followed Turpin's lead with unwavering trust. The sexual tension between you grew with each passing moment, but you were too captivated by the rhythm of the music to notice.
When the dance finally came to an end, Turpin couldn't bear to linger a moment longer in the suffocating confines of the ballroom. With a sense of urgency burning within him, he pulled you off the dance floor and out of the Byrons' mansion without a second thought.
You were taken aback by his sudden departure, questioning why you were leaving the ball so early. But Turpin offered no explanation, his brow furrowed in determination as he continued to lead you away.
"Shouldn't we at least say goodbye to the Byrons?" you asked, your voice tinged with confusion.
Turpin's response was unexpected, his usually composed demeanor giving way to a rare display of vulgarity. "The Byrons can fuck off," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "We're leaving."
You were shocked by his outburst, knowing that Turpin rarely used such foul language except in the privacy of the bedroom. But before you could protest, he tugged you along, his grip firm and unyielding as he guided you towards the waiting carriage.
As Turpin waved to the coachman, the carriage door was quickly opened for him. With a sense of urgency, he helped you inside before entering himself, slamming the door shut behind him. But instead of taking his usual seat in front of you, he advanced towards you, his eyes smoldering with desire as he captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss.
You were initially surprised by his sudden passion, but the intensity of his kiss ignited a fire within you, and you responded eagerly, melting into his embrace. The stubble of his beard scratched against your skin, adding a rough edge to the tenderness of his touch as the carriage began to move forward, carrying you both towards your home.
Turpin's hunger for you was palpable, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive fervor. With a boldness that took you by surprise, he took one of your hands and pressed it against his crotch, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal. Despite your initial shock, you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you at his touch.
As you pulled away from the kiss, blushing slightly at the intimate contact, you tried to move your hand away. But Turpin held you tight, his voice rough and hoarse as he remarked with a hint of amusement that even after two years of marriage, you still blushed at his advances.
Embarrassed by his observation, you attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Turpin wouldn't let you escape. He grabbed your chin firmly, his eyes boring into yours with a smoldering intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Don't hide from me, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You belong to me, body and soul."
Feeling emboldened by his words, you met his gaze with a mixture of desire and apprehension. Turpin's eyes seemed to darken even more, a finger pressing against your lips until you parted them obediently.
Without a word, you sucked his finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it in a provocative dance. Turpin's breath hitched at the sensation, a low growl escaping his lips as he watched you with hungry eyes.
Satisfied by your response, Turpin withdrew his finger from your mouth, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
With a sense of anticipation hanging heavy in the air, the carriage continued its journey towards your home. But for you and Turpin, the real journey had only just begun—a journey fueled by passion, desire, and the unbreakable bond that bound you together as husband and wife.
As the carriage rattled along the darkened streets, the atmosphere inside grew increasingly charged with tension and desire. Richard Turpin's gaze lingered hungrily on your form, his eyes tracing the curves of your body with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
His baritone voice broke the silence, the husky tone sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. "Are your breasts still sore?" he inquired, his words laced with a mixture of concern and arousal.
You shook your head in denial, but before you could offer any further explanation, you confessed, "But they were leaking this morning."
Turpin's eyes lit up with a predatory gleam, his arousal evident as he leaned in closer to you. The bulge in his pants pressed against you, a physical manifestation of his desire as he moved to explore your breasts.
With a sense of urgency, he reached forward, his hands deftly undoing the buttons of your dress to expose your beautiful breasts to his hungry gaze. Despite his usual restraint, Turpin could no longer hold back his primal urges, his desire for you consuming him like a raging fire.
With a sense of reverence, he buried his face between your breasts, inhaling deeply as he savored the sweet, intoxicating scent of your skin. His lips trailed a path of fire across your flesh, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake as he teased and tantalized your sensitive skin.
You couldn't help but gasp and moan as Turpin's lips closed around your nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive bud until it hardened with desire. His stubble scratched against the delicate skin of your breast, adding a rough edge to the pleasure that washed over you in waves.
Turpin's movements were deliberate and purposeful, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to elicit a symphony of pleasure from you. As you clutched the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair, he sucked hard on your nipple, drawing forth the sweet, creamy taste of your milk.
The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as Turpin drank greedily from your breast. With each pull of his lips, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
But Turpin wasn't satisfied with just one breast—he wanted to taste all of you. As the other breast began to leak, he wasted no time in latching onto it, his lips closing around the swollen nipple as he suckled eagerly, his hunger for you insatiable.
For a moment, the world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the blissful haze of pleasure that enveloped you. Turpin's touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you found yourself craving more with each passing moment.
As the carriage rattled on towards your home, Turpin's future offspring would indeed be well fed, nourished by the sweet, creamy milk of their mother. And as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch, you couldn't help but wonder what other delights awaited you in the darkness of the night.
As the euphoria of pleasure enveloped you, a nagging worry crept into your mind, casting a shadow over the blissful haze of desire that consumed you. Between moans of pleasure, you couldn't help but question your husband's actions, a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your consciousness.
"Richard," you gasped breathlessly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Isn't this... wrong? This is our baby's food... you shouldn't be... doing this..."
But Turpin's response was swift and commanding, his voice low and dangerous as he silenced your protests with a single, chilling command.
"Quiet," he growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You belong to me, and I will take whatever I want from you."
Despite your instinctive urge to protest, you found yourself falling silent at his words, a shiver of fear mingling with the arousal that pulsed through your veins. Turpin's gaze bore into yours with a predatory intensity, his brown eyes smoldering with desire as he continued to feast upon your breast.
With a sudden, abrupt movement, Turpin released your breast from his mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting your tender flesh to his lips. He met your gaze with a mixture of hunger and possessiveness, his words dripping with an undeniable sense of dominance.
"You are mine," he declared, his voice rough and commanding. "And I will take whatever pleasures I desire from you."
Despite the conflicting emotions swirling within you, you couldn't deny the undeniable thrill that coursed through your body at his words. Turpin's dominance ignited a primal fire within you, awakening desires you never knew existed as he claimed you as his own.
With a boldness that surprised even you, Turpin slipped a hand under your skirt, his fingers trailing teasingly along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gasped in surprise at the sudden contact, your body responding instinctively to his touch as he continued to explore your most intimate areas.
Turpin's fingers found their way to the damp fabric of your panties, the evidence of your arousal soaking through the delicate fabric. With a satisfied smirk, he teased your swollen clit through the thin material, eliciting a moan of pleasure from your lips as he sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Turpin's voice rumbled with a mixture of desire and dominance as he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" he growled, his tone sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
You blushed furiously, unable to meet his intense gaze as you squirmed under his scrutiny. "I-I don't know what you mean," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.
But Turpin wasn't convinced by your feeble protestations. With a low, menacing growl, he reached out and grasped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Don't hide from me," he snarled, his brown eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
Before you could respond, Turpin crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue probing hungrily at your lips until you parted for him. With a deft motion, he slipped his hand between your legs, his fingers tracing teasing circles against your damp panties.
"You want this," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. "You want to ride my cock right here in this carriage, don't you?"
You gasped in shock at his brazen words, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But deep down, you couldn't deny the truth of his words—the thought of being taken by him in such a scandalous manner sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
As you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, Turpin growled impatiently, his frustration evident in the way his grip tightened on your wrists. "Don't make me wait," he warned, his voice dripping with authority. "I want you, and I want you now."
With trembling hands, you reached down to the hem of your dress, lifting it up to expose your soaked panties to Turpin's hungry gaze. But before you could fully undress, Turpin intervened, his hands moving to help you remove your panties with a swift, decisive motion.
Once the delicate fabric was discarded, Turpin wasted no time in situating himself on the opposite side of the carriage, his eyes never leaving your trembling form. With a predatory smirk, he stuffed your panties into his suit pocket, a silent reminder of your submission to him.
"Come here," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument as he beckoned you towards him. Without hesitation, you obeyed, your heart pounding with a heady mixture of fear and desire as you straddled his lap.
As you hovered above him, Turpin took a moment to undress, discarding his clothes with a swift, efficient motion. His erection sprang free from its confinement, the sight of it making your mouth water with anticipation.
With a sense of urgency, you impaled yourself on him, sinking down onto his throbbing length with a guttural moan of pleasure. Turpin's hands gripped your hips possessively, guiding you as you began to rock your hips against his in a rhythm as old as time.
The sensation of him filling you completely sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls clenching tightly around him as you rode him with abandon. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, your cries of ecstasy mingling with Turpin's primal grunts of satisfaction.
Turpin leaned his head back against the carriage wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he continued to ride the wave of pleasure crashing over him. "You're a bad girl, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire and accusation. "A very bad girl."
Confusion clouded your features as you continued to move against him, your hips rotating slightly in rhythm with his thrusts. "I don't understand," you protested, your voice laced with uncertainty. "What did I do wrong?"
Turpin's eyes snapped open, his gaze boring into yours with a fierce intensity. "You know exactly what you did," he snarled, his chest heaving with exertion. "You've always had a way of bewitching me, like some kind of witch. Driving me mad with desire, invading my thoughts. How dare you do this to me?"
You froze at his accusations, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to comprehend his anger. "I-I never meant to manipulate you," you stammered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Richard, I would never—"
"No more," Turpin growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain control. "You will no longer have power over me! I won't allow it!"
His words sent a chill down your spine, the intensity of his gaze piercing through you like a dagger. Turpin's chest heaved with each labored breath, his hands trembling as he continued to unravel before your eyes.
"You'll cheat on me, just like Johanna did," Turpin spat out, his voice thick with accusation. "I know you will. Just like all the other women before her."
As he tugged at the collar of his suit, his face flushed with exertion, you reached out to him with a mixture of concern and desperation. "Richard, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You're not thinking clearly. I'm here for you. I love you."
But Turpin's eyes blazed with a fierce determination, his words a bitter retort to your protestations. "You don't love me," he insisted, his voice raw with pain. "You're only with me because I send money to your family. You're using me!"
The truth of his words hung heavy in the air, weighing down on you like a leaden weight. You hung your head in shame, unable to deny the validity of his accusations. But even as guilt gnawed at your conscience, you couldn't bear to see Turpin in such a state of distress.
As he struggled to breathe, his chest heaving with each ragged gasp, you reached out and took one of his trembling hands in yours. Placing it gently on your swollen belly, you urged him to feel the kick of the baby growing inside you, the son you both already loved before he even entered the world.
"Feel him, Richard," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "He's our son. Our love created him. Please, believe in us."
Turpin's breath caught in his throat as he felt the tiny flutter of movement beneath his hand, his eyes widening in wonder and disbelief. For a moment, the turmoil raging within him seemed to ebb away, replaced by a sense of awe and wonder at the miracle of life growing inside you.
As you feel the baby kick beneath Turpin's hand, you lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes pleading for understanding. "Richard," you whisper softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You were the one who chose me. You came to my house, offering to help my family in exchange for my hand in marriage. You could have chosen a Lady, someone of noble birth, but you chose me, a simple peasant girl. I didn't even know you, and you didn't give me a chance to meet you. You just came, slept with me, and were ready to leave."
Turpin's eyes flicker with a mixture of anger and shame, his jaw clenched tight as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Don't question my decisions," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me, and you will do as I say."
But you refuse to back down, your resolve firm as you continue to speak your mind. "How do you expect me to love you if you don't give me a chance?" you challenge, your voice rising with each word. "You treat me like a possession, a means to an end. But I'm a person, Richard. I have feelings, desires, dreams of my own."
Turpin's nostrils flare with barely contained rage, his brow furrowing in frustration as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't need you to love me," he spits out, his voice dripping with disdain. "I need you to obey me, to fulfill your duties as my wife and the mother of my children."
But you refuse to be silenced, your voice ringing out clear and strong despite the fear that churns in your stomach. "I'm trying, Richard," you insist, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm trying to make this work. But it's hard when you treat me like nothing more than a servant, a vessel for your desires."
Turpin's gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing into slits as he glares at you with contempt. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "Thinking you can manipulate me with your tears and your words. But it won't work. I see through your lies, your deceit."
You flinch at his harsh words, the sting of his accusations cutting deep into your heart. "I'm not trying to manipulate you," you protest, your voice trembling with hurt. "I just want us to be happy, to find a way to love each other despite our differences."
But Turpin scoffs at your words, his laughter cold and mocking as he dismisses your pleas. "Love is for fools," he declares, his voice laced with bitterness. "I have no need for such sentimentality. All I need is obedience, and you will give it to me, one way or another."
With a heavy heart, you realize that there's no reaching Turpin, no breaking through the walls he's built around his heart. He's a cruel and callous man, incapable of understanding the depth of your feelings or the pain he inflicts upon you.
But as you look down at your swollen belly, feeling the tiny life growing inside you, you know that you can't give up hope. You may be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who sees you as nothing more than a pawn in his game, but you refuse to let him crush your spirit.
With a newfound determination, you square your shoulders and meet Turpin's gaze head-on, refusing to cower in the face of his cruelty. "I won't give up on us, Richard," you declare, your voice steady despite the trembling of your limbs. "I'll fight for our marriage, for our family, even if it means standing up to you."
As you meet Turpin's gaze with determination, his expression shifts from anger to surprise, his brown eyes widening in disbelief. For a moment, his harsh facade crumbles, revealing a glimmer of hope and uncertainty beneath the layers of cruelty and disdain.
Feeling a surge of compassion welling up inside you, you reach out and gently cup Turpin's face in your hands, your touch tender and reassuring. "Richard," you whisper softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here. I'll always be here, between heaven and earth, beside you."
Turpin's breath catches in his throat at your words, his expression torn between disbelief and longing. "But why?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "After everything I've done to you, why would you stay?"
You gaze into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface of his hardened exterior. "Because I want to love you, Richard," you confess, your voice filled with sincerity. "But I need you to love me too. For us, for our future baby. I know you have the capacity for goodness, for kindness. I've seen it, glimpses of it, like when you smiled during our dance earlier. It was beautiful, Richard."
Turpin's brow furrows in confusion, his lips parting in denial. "I didn't smile," he insists, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I couldn't have."
But you shake your head, your resolve unwavering. "You did, Richard," you insist, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "And it was beautiful. I believe in the goodness that lies within you, hidden beneath the cruelty and harshness. I want that Turpin, the one I know you can be."
Turpin's gaze searches yours, his eyes filled with doubt and hesitation. "But what if that Turpin doesn't exist?" he questions, his voice laced with uncertainty. "What if I'm incapable of being the man you want me to be? Will you abandon me like the others before you?"
Your heart aches at the fear and insecurity reflected in Turpin's eyes, the weight of his past sins bearing down on him like a heavy burden. But you refuse to give up on him, on the possibility of a better future for both of you.
"I won't abandon you, Richard," you vow, your voice steady and unwavering. "I'll stand by you, through thick and thin. But you have to meet me halfway. You have to be willing to change, to let go of the darkness that consumes you. I know it won't be easy, but I believe in us, in our ability to overcome any obstacle together."
Turpin's gaze softens at your words, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. "Do you really believe that?" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the carriage.
With a nod, you reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "With all my heart, Richard," you reply, your voice filled with conviction. "I believe in you, in us. And I'll do everything in my power to help you find the happiness and redemption you deserve."
Turpin's lips quirk into a hesitant smile, a glimmer of warmth lighting up his features for the first time in what feels like an eternity. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "For believing in me, for giving me hope. I'll try, I promise."
With a sense of renewed optimism, you lean in and press your lips against Turpin's in a tender, loving kiss. In that moment, as the carriage rattles on towards an uncertain future, you cling to the hope that love can conquer even the darkest of shadows, that redemption is possible for even the most lost and broken souls. And with Turpin by your side, you're determined to prove that anything is possible, as long as you have each other.
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As Richard Turpin approached the bed, wearing his pajamas that resembled more of a nightgown, he couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation as he noticed you engrossed in writing something in the notebook. With a slight frown, he slid under the covers beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, his gaze drifting to the pages of the notebook.
"What are you doing?" he inquired, his baritone voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
You looked up from the notebook, a small furrow forming between your brows as you met Turpin's gaze. "Oh, Richard, I'm just trying to come up with some baby names," you replied, your voice warm and affectionate. "You know, for our future son. There's only a month left until the birth, so I thought it would be a good idea to start brainstorming."
Turpin lifted his head from your shoulder, his expression softening as he realized the innocence of your actions. "Baby names?" he repeated, his voice laced with surprise. "For our son?"
You nodded eagerly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yes, Richard," you confirmed, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "I want us to be prepared when our little one arrives. I've been jotting down some ideas, starting with boys' names first. Do you want to help me brainstorm?"
But before you could delve further into the discussion, Turpin interrupted, his tone dismissive. "There's no need for that," he declared, his voice firm. "I've already chosen the baby's name. Bartholomew for a boy, Belladonna for a girl."
You looked at him in shock, the revelation taking you by surprise. "But Bartholomew?" you exclaimed, disbelief evident in your voice. "And Belladonna for a girl? Richard, those names are... unconventional, to say the least."
Turpin's expression hardened, his jaw set in determination. "It doesn't matter," he retorted, his tone final. "The names have been decided. The heir will take the name I deem best."
You protested, wanting to have a say in the matter, but Turpin's stubbornness left no room for negotiation. Frustration bubbled up inside you, an irresistible urge to lash out at him rising to the surface.
As Turpin leaned over to blow out the candle at the head of the bed, you seized the opportunity to release some of your pent-up frustration. With a swift movement, you kicked out, catching Turpin off guard and sending him tumbling out of bed with a thump.
He shouted in surprise as he fell out of bed with a thud, his sleeping hat tumbling off his head in the commotion. Turpin's expression was a mixture of shock and indignation as he looked up at you, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. But before he could voice his accusation, you burst into laughter at the sight of him sprawled on the floor.
The sound of your laughter seemed to only fuel Turpin's anger as he scrambled to his feet, his pajamas rumpled and his hair in disarray. "What in blazes was that for?" he demanded, his voice laced with irritation.
You struggled to contain your laughter as you watched Turpin's indignant expression, the sight of him so flustered and disheveled only making you laugh harder. With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you couldn't resist teasing him further. "Oh, Richard, you should have seen the look on your face," you chuckled, unable to stifle your amusement.
Turpin's anger flared at your laughter, his nostrils flaring with barely contained rage. "This is no laughing matter," he growled, advancing towards you with purpose in his stride. "You pushed me out of bed, and now you're mocking me? How dare you?"
But you couldn't stop giggling, the absurdity of the situation only making it harder to control your mirth. Turpin seethed with rage as he grabbed the bed sheets on either side of your head, his face mere inches from yours as he glared down at you.
"How dare you laugh at me?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think it's funny to push me out of bed and then mock me for it?"
Despite his anger, you couldn't help but find Turpin's indignation amusing. With a playful grin, you reached up and planted a kiss on his lips, cutting off his tirade mid-sentence. Then, with a giggle, you planted another kiss on his nose, unable to resist teasing him further.
Turpin's anger seemed to dissipate at the unexpected display of affection, his expression softening as he gazed down at you with a mixture of irritation and reluctant amusement. "You're impossible," he muttered, though there was a hint of affection in his voice.
You grinned up at him, knowing exactly how to dispel his anger. "I know," you replied cheekily, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. "But you love me anyway."
Turpin tried to maintain his facade of indignation, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "I suppose I have no choice," he grumbled, though there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
With a satisfied smirk, you settled back against the pillows, feeling victorious in your ability to defuse the situation. But as Turpin shifted slightly, you noticed a pained expression flicker across his face, his hand moving to rub his hip gingerly.
Concern washed over you as you realized the extent of Turpin's discomfort. "Are you alright?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I hurt you when I pushed you out of bed?"
Turpin hesitated for a moment, his expression guarded as he weighed his response. "My hip is a bit sore," he admitted reluctantly, his pride preventing him from admitting the full extent of his discomfort.
Instantly, your guilt intensified at the realization that you had caused Turpin pain. With a sympathetic sigh, you reached out to stroke his side soothingly, your touch gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Richard," you apologized sincerely, your voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
As Turpin moved away from you and extinguished the candle beside the bed, you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You hadn't meant to hurt him, only to express your frustration at being sidelined in such an important decision. With a heavy sigh, you reached out to him, pleading for him to talk to you.
"Richard, please," you implored, your voice soft and pleading. "Let's talk about this. I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I wanted to have a say in our baby's name."
But Turpin remained silent, his back turned to you as he crawled under the covers, pulling them up to his chin. You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you realized that Turpin wasn't going to engage with you. With a heavy heart, you decided to give him space, promising yourself that you would try to talk to him again tomorrow.
The next morning, as you entered the breakfast room, you were greeted by the sight of Turpin limping in, his expression unreadable. Guilt gnawed at your conscience as you watched him, knowing that his discomfort was a result of your actions the night before.
"Richard, please," you began, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I'm sorry about last night. Can we talk?"
But Turpin ignored you, his attention focused on his morning coffee as he took a sip, his expression stoic. The tension in the room was palpable as you struggled to find the right words to break through to him.
Just then, Beadle entered the room, ready to accompany Turpin to court as usual. But Turpin surprised both of you with his next words.
"Beadle, cancel all of my appointments for today," Turpin instructed, his voice firm. "I'll be staying home."
Beadle nodded in acknowledgment before leaving the room, leaving you alone with Turpin once again. Seizing the opportunity, you tried once more to reach out to him, desperate to make amends for your actions.
"Richard, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I messed up, but I'm truly sorry. Can we talk about this?"
But Turpin remained resolute, his silence a barrier between you. With a heavy heart, you realized that you would have to give him space, even if it tore you apart inside.
As the morning wore on, the guilt continued to weigh heavily on your shoulders, driving you to take action. With a deep breath, you made your way to Turpin's office, knowing that you were risking his wrath by intruding without permission.
"Richard, please," you said softly as you entered the room, your voice hesitant. "I need to talk to you."
But Turpin's response was immediate and harsh. "Get out," he barked, his voice cold and commanding. "I have no desire to speak with you."
Refusing to back down, you stepped further into the room, your resolve unwavering. "Richard, we need to talk about what happened," you insisted, your voice tinged with desperation.
But Turpin was having none of it. With a swift movement, he crossed the room and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you towards him until you were pressed against the edge of his desk. You gripped the edge tightly, careful not to put pressure on your pregnant belly as Turpin hiked up your skirts and pulled down your panties.
"What are you doing?" you protested, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.
Turpin's expression was hard and unforgiving as he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed backside, the sting of his hand against your skin sending shockwaves of pain and arousal coursing through your body.
"You need to learn your place," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You're mine, and you'll obey me, no matter what."
Despite the pain, you found yourself submitting to Turpin's dominance, knowing that it was what he needed in that moment. As he continued to administer his punishment, you gritted your teeth and bore it, silently vowing to make things right between you once the storm had passed.
As Turpin continued to administer his punishment, his hand landing with precise and stinging blows against your exposed skin, he couldn't help but notice the way your body responded to his touch. Despite the pain, you found yourself growing increasingly aroused, the sting of each slap sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
Turpin's expression darkened with a mixture of frustration and desire as he observed your reaction, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You like this, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're enjoying being punished like the little slut you are."
You gasped in surprise at his words, the heat rising to your cheeks as you realized the truth of his accusation. Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the undeniable thrill that coursed through your body at his dominance, the ache between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.
Turpin's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to rain down blows upon your backside, relishing in the way you squirmed and moaned beneath him. But as he felt your arousal building, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.
With a sudden, abrupt movement, Turpin ceased his assault, his hand coming to rest against your throbbing flesh as he observed the slick evidence of your arousal. He leaned in close, his hooked nose brushing against your skin as he inhaled deeply, his baritone voice dripping with contempt.
"You shouldn't be enjoying this," he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "You're supposed to be repenting for your disobedience, not reveling in it like some kind of whore."
You whimpered in embarrassment at his harsh words, the shame of your arousal washing over you in waves. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, your voice trembling with humiliation. "I didn't mean to... I'll do better, I promise."
But Turpin paid no heed to your apologies, his gaze burning with a primal hunger as he reached down between your legs, his fingers trailing teasingly along your soaked folds. "It's too late for apologies," he declared, his voice thick with desire. "You've been a naughty girl, and now you need to be punished properly."
With a swift movement, Turpin flipped you over onto your back, his hands roughly spreading your thighs apart as he positioned himself between them. You gasped in anticipation as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.
Turpin's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he met your gaze, his brown eyes smoldering with desire. "You're mine to use as I please," he growled, his voice rough with need. "And tonight, I'm going to fuck you until you're begging for mercy."
With a primal grunt, Turpin surged forward, burying himself deep inside you with a single, powerful thrust. You cried out in pleasure as he filled you completely, the sensation of him stretching you to your limits sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.
Turpin's movements were rough and urgent, his hips slamming against yours with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless and desperate for more. With each thrust, he claimed you as his own, marking you with the heat of his desire as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy again and again.
As you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the primal intensity of the moment. Turpin's dominance was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter and brighter with each passing second.
With a fierce determination, you wrapped your legs around Turpin's waist, pulling him closer as you urged him to take you harder and faster. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his own release with single-minded determination.
As Turpin continued to thrust into you with a primal intensity, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of blissful release. Your body arched against his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as you rode the wave of ecstasy building within you.
"You're going to make me cum, Richard," you moaned, your voice thick with need as you felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. But just as you were on the brink of climax, Turpin abruptly withdrew, leaving you gasping in confusion as he held himself back, leaving only the blunt tip of his cock nestled inside you.
Confusion clouded your senses as you looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of explanation. But Turpin's expression was unreadable, his features twisted into a mask of determination as he began to stroke himself with the tip of his cock still buried deep within you.
Realization dawned upon you in an instant, your heart sinking as you understood what Turpin intended. "Please, Richard," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. "Don't do this. Let me cum, please."
But Turpin merely shook his head, his grip on his throbbing member tightening as he denied you the release you so desperately craved. "You don't deserve it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You hurt me, and now you must suffer the consequences."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with him, your voice cracking with emotion. "I apologized," you protested, the ache in your heart matching the throbbing pain in your neglected core. "I'm sorry, Richard. Please, don't punish me like this."
But Turpin remained unmoved, his resolve unyielding as he continued to stroke himself with cruel determination. "Your apology means nothing," he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. "You hurt me, and now you must pay the price."
With a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes and resigned yourself to your fate, knowing that there was no arguing with Turpin when he was in such a merciless mood. The ache between your legs only intensified as you felt his cock twitching inside you, his impending release a cruel reminder of what you were being denied.
As Turpin continued masturbating with just the tip of his cock inside you, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and arousal washing over you. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, but the denial of release only served to fuel the fire burning within you.
After a few more torturous pumps, Turpin finally reached his climax, his hot seed spurting deep inside you. You gasped as you felt him fill you completely, his curse mingling with your own whimper of frustration as he watched his cum leak out of you.
With a cruel smirk, Turpin made sure that you took every drop of him before pulling away from you, his gaze cold and indifferent as he took you off his desk and delivered a sharp smack to your ass. You whimpered at the sting of his hand against your skin, but you knew better than to protest as he sent you away with a dismissive gesture.
As you scurried out of the room, your cheeks burning with humiliation, Turpin shoved himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable as he settled back into his chair. Despite the lingering pain in his hip, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having asserted his dominance over you once again.
With a grimace, Turpin leaned back in his chair, his baritone voice echoing through the empty room as he allowed himself a moment of contentment. Despite the ache in his hip, he knew that his position of power remained unchallenged, and that was all that mattered to him in the end.
Hours later, you entered Turpin's office once again, the air thick with tension, you couldn't help but notice the way he stiffened at the sight of you. Ignoring his icy glare, you approached him with purpose, the jar of healing ointment clutched tightly in your hand.
"Richard," you began, your voice soft and tentative. "I brought some healing ointment for your hip. I thought it might help ease the pain."
Turpin's expression softened imperceptibly at your gesture, though he still regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and resignation. "You didn't have to do that," he muttered gruffly, his baritone voice tinged with reluctance.
But you refused to be deterred, determined to offer him some small measure of comfort despite his stubbornness. With steady hands, you unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped your fingers into the cool, soothing ointment, scooping up a generous amount before reaching out to him.
"Please, Richard," you implored, your voice tinged with sincerity. "Let me help you. I know things have been difficult between us, but I want to make things right."
Turpin hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the jar of ointment in your hand. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented, nodding his consent. "Fine," he grumbled, his tone begrudging. "But make it quick."
With a small smile of gratitude, you stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached out to apply the ointment to his hip. Turpin tensed at your touch, but he didn't pull away, allowing you to gently massage the soothing balm into his sore muscles.
As you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at Turpin's face, noting the subtle lines of pain etched into his features. Despite his stoic facade, you could see the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface, a reminder that even the strongest among us are not immune to pain.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you last night. I just... I felt so frustrated, so powerless."
Turpin remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite him as he processed your words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hesitant. "I know," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "And I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I let my pride get the best of me."
Your heart swelled with a mixture of relief and gratitude at his admission, knowing that it took a great deal of strength for Turpin to admit fault. With a gentle smile, you continued to apply the ointment, your touch growing more tender as you worked to ease his pain.
When you finished, you withdrew your hand and capped the jar of ointment, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having provided Turpin with some measure of relief. But as you turned to leave, Turpin reached out and grasped your hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."
You met his gaze, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. "You're welcome," you replied softly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "And Richard, I meant what I said earlier. We can work through this together. I know we can."
Turpin's expression softened at your words, a flicker of warmth lighting up his eyes as he squeezed your hand gently. "I believe you," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "And I promise to do better, to be better for you."
With a nod of appreciation, you squeezed his hand in return, a silent pledge passing between you. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.
As you left Turpin's office, a sense of hope bloomed within you, a renewed determination to build a future together, one built on trust, understanding, and love. You knew it would take some time, but the two of you would learn to love each other because the love was already there, you would just have to learn to show it.
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smilingformoney · 6 days
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New REBLOG Game
Just fucking lie about the previous poster
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smilingformoney · 6 days
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every friedman moment ever (14/74)
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smilingformoney · 7 days
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every friedman moment ever (65/74)
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smilingformoney · 8 days
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If I could talk to one person in all of human history about anything, I’d talk to Alan about Snape
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smilingformoney · 8 days
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This user supports AO3
This user is anti-censorship
This user believes in “don’t like, don’t read”
This user believes in “ship and let ship”
This user believes that fiction tastes and preferences do not dictate moral character
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smilingformoney · 8 days
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hii, can we know what you have in your plans?👀🫶🏻 I'm curious!!💖
life plans:
finish course
get promoted
meet @snowblossomtumbles
buy flat
survive
fandom plans (probably what you actually want to know):
Gifs - nearly done with Eli, once he’s in the queue he’ll probably be the last character I do ‘every moment ever’ for
For the Love of Books - next chapter almost done, just need to finish it off. A certain cousin joins the story 😀
Eternal Summer - one chapter left! the end of the movie’s coming and we know what happens then….. 🫢
Sharing - I’m working on a chapter that involves Lionel and Eli punishing yn by joining forces to tease and edge her 😀
Professor Snape II - slow but steady progress. I am delving deep into magic lore, which means I have to invent said magic lore. I’m even handwriting notes as I figure stuff out! So it is in the works, and hopefully the wait will be worth it.
Untitled Alex Dane fic - it’s in the limbo state of many scenes written, none of them are sequential, I need to glue them together. I wanna do this one as one long-ass one shot, rather than a handful of chapters.
Dave and Charley - have half a smut scene finished, may or may not finish it, no plans to make a coherent story with plot
Agent Snape - might abandon this one tbh, I’m not that inspired for it and nobody seems that invested
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smilingformoney · 8 days
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every friedman moment ever (72/74)
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smilingformoney · 9 days
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every friedman moment ever (08/74)
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