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deepperplexity · 1 year ago

Text

Prompt: 15. Cards And Coals [C4]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, 6. Out Of Care & 13. Shimmering Icicles

A/N: Well, why not go at it with some more smut today - Turpin's turn now though 👀🤭 Yesterday's fic was sweet, gentle, soft and caring - this is partly that and partly the opposite 🙈 Another long one today, but, I mean, it's smutty goodness so of course we need it to be substantial - right?

Also, HAPPY FRIDAY! Today my mom is coming over (should be any minute now really, yes, I'm scrambling once more - seems I never learn to keep it short even when needed 😂) and we're celebrating Christmas all weekend with her, gonna do some ice skating, eat and cook awesome food, and get some Christmas presents exchanged between us all 🥰👏 (So, if my posting is very late the next two days, I apologies, I have nearly finished tomorrows fic but I'll catch any moment to write that I can darlings and really aim to get fics up every day!)

Tags/TW’s: SMUT, Virginity Given, Vaginal Penetration, No Aftercare, Feeling Lonely, Confessions Of Love (sort of), Arguing, Emotional Turmoil, Feeling Abandoned, Mentions Past Use Of Whores, Comparing Oneself To Others, Feeling Unworthy, Praise, Possible Praise Kink, Anger

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.4k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

“Richard,” you whispered, his hands holding your warm face in place. “I do not deserve you,” he said gently, softly, as if he spoke from the depths of his usually stoic heart. The way his eyes stormed for you, you’d never seen such emotions displayed in them. Your throat cinched tight with the need to speak words that could not be taken back once said aloud. “Yet, I am a selfish man, and I will take, whatever you offer, love,” Richard continued in a dark hum of a confession. “L-love?” “Yes, you are to me.”

A gasped breath slipped between your lips, his own lips thinned with a look of restraint. “Kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes widened. “Richard, kiss me,” you exhaled while your hands reached out to grip his robe. It felt as if you would fall over without holding on to something despite still being seated on the bed. Your heart pounded, your core too tight and a sense of need seemed to fill your veins. “As you wish,” he said and your spine stiffened.

Richard leaned in, slowly, giving you every opportunity to stop what you wished for so badly it felt as if you would combust if he didn’t close the gap. You exhaled a grunted breath and tugged on his robe, his lips were smashed against yours with the unexpected movement. You’d only ever kissed once before, and that had been a mere peck on the lips for the sake of the wedding ceremony. This, this kiss, it was something else entirely.

You tugged him closer, his lips turning harder against yours, and his warm hands stiffened while still cupping your burning cheeks. Fire seemed to erupt in your lower stomach, your heart beat in erratic spasms, and his dark groan had you gasping. The second your lips parted his tongue slipped in. You moaned and allowed the exploration while you tentatively stroked his tongue in return.

He deepened the kiss, one of his hands reaching around to cup the back of your head. Your hands slid up to grasp at his shoulders, feeling his stiff muscles made your fingers flex and knead. Your thighs pressed themselves together as moisture coated your womanhood, your most sacred body part, your most protected and untouched core.

The sensation was too strong, bordering on unbearable now that it seemed to unfurl and take over completely. Your mind turned muddled, your thoughts sluggish yet focused fully on every motion and movement Richard made. His mouth felt perfect paired with yours and the kiss turned frenzied.

You tugged on him, desperate to get closer. He lost his balance but landed beside you, dragging you atop him in one fluent motion. The steady rhythm of his heart contrasted with your frantic one, his dark groan a compliment to your whined moan. The noise shocked you, sounding beyond needy.

“So sweet,” he said against your lips as you gasped at the sound. “Do not hide your exquisite sounds from me, love.” “Richard,” you said and kissed him anew while his hands stroked down along your sides, coming to a halt at your hips where he squeezed. “Oh,” you moaned and he smiled against your mouth. “Need something, love?” he asked with a near chuckle to his voice. “I-, I don’t know,” you whispered while his hard cock lay wedged between you. Your body seemed to tremble at the feel while your core pulsed with a need you weren’t sure you were ready to sate.

He widened his legs and you sunk further between them. Perfectly situated to feel every part of his manhood, the cock he’d so recently stroked in the tub while calling your name. You shivered at the feeling and memory, a moan escaping as his hands moved to your behind and kneaded each cheek. “Such a sweet sound.” “Richard…” “Love.” “I-, please,” you whined as his hands rested just below each cheek, the tips of his fingers so close to where your body wanted to be touched — it was excruciating to have him so close yet not close enough.

“For so long, I have waited patiently,” he began in a dark hum while his hands moved forward and back, stroking the top of your thighs while always receding just before touching your slicked core. “Hell on earth, my home turned into my own fiery pit of damnation with you so close.” “What?” “Tell me what you need, love. I will do nothing you do not ask of me. I have been patient, to gain your trust, and I will not break it on the cusps of my reward for said patience, said torture,” he nearly hissed and your heart damn near broke with the overwhelming flow of warmth coming from his harshly spoken words. You wished for him to touch you, take you, relieve the aching within you, put out the burning heat inside you — anything to rid you of the desperation crawling under your skin, the neediness in your very blood. For him, only ever for him. Even if it took you far too long to realize what you had begun to feel for your stoic husband there was no denying it now.

“Touch me,” you whispered, barely able to make your voice heard. “Please, Richard, I-, I feel as if I’ll go mad,” you whined while drowning in the lust within his eyes. “Such a needy wife,” he said, but there was a hunger in his voice you’d never heard before. “For you, only.” His nostrils flared at that and you were on your back a second later with him snuggled between your legs. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You nodded and he kissed your lips once, softly. “Say the words,” he urged while your entire body tensed as the ridge of his cock nudged something far too sensitive between your legs. ��I’ll tell you to stop,” you exhaled and he kissed the tip of your nose gently. “Good wife.” Those words, in his baritone voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

He kissed you, first softly and then ardently. Your motions turned sloppy as his tongue dived deeper and his hand found your breast. He stroked your nipple through the nightdress’ fabric yet it sent jolts of pleasure through your entire body, echoing in your core. Your thighs clenched around his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance with only the nightdress between you.

He grabbed the hem and pulled in one swift motion, your back never even left the mattress below. You panted, your body on fire, his lips smashed against yours and his hand travelled to your thigh. His warm palm seemed scorching. “Sweet, sweet wife,” he murmured as he moved to kiss your neck. “P-please,” you whimpered. “In due time,” he said. “I must prepare you, I have no wish to harm you, love.” “H-harm me?” you gasped as his finger nudged your outer lips, already slicked with moisture. “Hmm,” he hummed while his finger slid between your folds, up and down in a half-gentle motion. “So wet for me, such a good wife you are,” he praised and your heart nearly imploded at the lovely words.

His finger dipped, and then he pushed it inside you. You jolted at the intrusion, a whimpered moan escaping as a searing erupted within you. “Fuck, you are so lovely.” His finger slid in and out. “So wet, so warm, so pure,” he continued and you grasped at his back, the damn robe in the way for you to feel his skin. “Robe, Richard, your robe,” you said and he half sat up.

The sash was undone and the view he posed had you gulping down a breath. His chest was dusted with grey hair, his soft but still firm stomach and… his cock. Bulging, standing at full attention, and nearly angrily red with veins wrapping around it. Your tongue darted out and licked your lips, for some reason your mouth watered at the sight and you couldn’t understand why. Your insides seemed to churn at the image he posed, something darkly alluring about his whole presence.

He withdrew his finger and you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly disrobed and pushed back inside. He remained seated between your spread thighs though, posing an intimidating view towering above you — all powerful. “Beautiful,” he said and you felt heat creep all over your chest and neck, burning your cheeks. His eyes roamed all over you, like a starved man laying eyes on a meal fit for a king.

Your back arched as he added a second finger, spreading you wider but moving quite gently. The next second his lips latched around your nipple, sucking and licking in perfect tandem to make your entire body curl with need. “Haa— Richard! Please,” you moaned. He upped the tempo of his fingers and you cried out as his thumb rubbed the sensitive little bud at the very top.

Your insides rippled and contracted around his fingers while you reached out to grab his shoulders, needing to hold on to something once more as your body nearly quaked with yearning as he released your nipple and kissed his way up your chest. “Your perfect cunt is mine,” he whispered by your ear. “Mine.” “Yes, yours,” you panted.

His hand left you and you whimpered in distress at the lack of him. “Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to see you.” You hooked your gaze in his, sweat misted your skin and your chest heaved while you tensed with trepidation. His hand moved and your eyes flicked down, seeing him stroke his cock — lubricating it with your slick — had you gasping. How-, how is that supposed to— “Look at me,” he demanded anew and your eyes snapped up. “I shall be as gentle as I can, love,” he promised and leaned forward, capturing your lips.

You felt him move closer, but your eyes drowned in his. His cock poked at your entrance and you tensed but he forced his tongue inside your mouth and when yours took up the dance he offered he pushed himself inside in one swift motion. Your head was thrown back, a cry echoing through the room as you took all of him right away. The tension was unbearable, the fullness wonderful, the heat a searing companion spurring pain. You writhed beneath him, feeling too full yet perfectly filled at the same time.

Richard held still, it gave you a moment to adjust a bit to his girth. The initial stab of pain ebbed away while your channel softened. Then he moved, slowly at first while your body found its equilibrium and the pain was soon enough lost to a throbbing pleasure. You grasped at his shoulders while he kissed your neck before rising on his forearms. “So good,” he groaned as he upped the tempo. “You are — fuck — so good, so, perfect,” he groaned between thrusts while your legs wrapped around his hips. “Richard, haa— oh, oh god,” you moaned. “I need — ohh — please I need—” Your voice was lost to a loud moan as he upped the pace to a pounding and you felt both pain and pleasure once more. Your body struggled against the rapid movement yet you wanted more.

“My sweet — ugh — wife, how long I’ve-, I’ve waited for your perfect cunt,” he groaned and rose all the way, his cock stroking a new spot inside you. It drove you mad with the ever-growing need for something you couldn’t term. You grabbed at the sheet beneath you, tried to find the words for what you needed. But you were lost to the sensations, the fullness, the warmth, the tension and the building of something that had you tethering on the line between worry and need.

You tensed further, that elusive something built far too quickly when his thumb began stroking your sensitive nub again. You moaned his name, a pleading almost, and he upped the pace once more. The tension, the stretching, the fear-mixed longing — it all fought for your attention.

“Love,” he groaned. “Love — oh fuck — you’re so good, such a perfectly tight cunt for my cock to fill.” “Please, please I-, I need-, need— Haaa-! ” you cried as your entire body tensed with a wave of pleasure crashing over you, shaking you to your core. “Yes,” Richard moaned. “Give it up, love,” he said and you released the tension, trusting in him through your hazy existence narrowed to him claiming you. He groaned as your insides pulsed, your muscles quaked and the world stopped existing while pleasure eradicated all thoughts. Your entire existence then turned into just the pleasure he gave, the pulsing of him inside you as he stilled and moaned deeply. The sounds he made prolonged your orgasm and you felt as if you were floating on clouds, warm, trembling clouds.

His soft lips half slanted and half kissed their way up your neck, his warm breath fanned over your sensitive skin and you trembled beneath him. “You are perfection like this, love,” he said before licking at the pulse point below your ear. “But next time I will not be so gentle when you drive me to madness.” It wasn’t a threat, more a promise that had you shivering before wrapping your arms around him. “Please,” you only said as he laid a bit more of his weight atop you and with the motion his half-limp cock slipped out of you, making you hiss. “You did so well,” he praised. “My good, sweet, perfect wife,” he continued and the praise did things to you, things you couldn’t understand but wanted more of.

Was that so strange? Your husband, the great Judge Turpin, was a stoic and cold man. Never had you thought he could be so tender, so sweet, so caring and soft-spoken. It made you tingle all over and, secretly, you hope to be the only one to ever hear such sweetness come from that perfect mouth of his. That wish, however, stirred a memory of the words written by women of insufficient schooling across three Christmas cards waiting downstairs. You pushed the thought away, staying in the warm sensation of your husband's embrace, loving that he was holding you so close in the aftermath of giving away your innocence.

“Let’s clean up,” Richard said and moved away from you. You instantly felt cold, bereft. Something within you was not quite satisfied at the quick end to your shared closeness, but you didn’t say a thing. After all, so much had happened, changed, unfolded, in such a short time you had no idea if you were merely overwhelmed. When you had wed the man you had only felt there were two possible outcomes regarding your virginity and neither of those had any sweetness to them. Don’t think about that now, you scolded yourself as Richard’s warm hand grabbed yours.

He dressed you in your robe and sent you to the bathroom, giving you time and space to do whatever you needed. Truth be told, you felt a little lonely at the quick dismissal. Was I not good enough? But, he said so? Said I was perfect, and good… Your thoughts spun while you washed yourself quickly. When you returned to the bedroom Richard had already left. So you dressed in silence and then went downstairs.

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He endeavoured to busy himself with a book, the words unreadable as he thought of your body beneath his, the sounds you had made and what a perfect slice of heaven your soaked cunt had been. Truly worth every speck of patience I have mustered… The fact he had wished to lavish you with kisses, touches and several more orgasms after claiming your purity lingered in his mind. Never had he wished to pleasure a woman just for their sake. He had, of course, known it to be impossible as you were surely sore after his claiming so he had sent you to clean up before he would have done something that could have caused you to lose the trust you now seemed to offer him.

He sighed, attempting to focus on the words in the book once more, but no matter how he tried he only saw your beautiful face contorted with pain-rimmed pleasure wherever he looked. His cock began to harden anew so he crossed his legs, staving off the urges you muddled his mind with.

He hoped you weren’t too hurt by his cock claiming your perfect cunt, he wished to do so again at the earliest possible but that would require you to heal and feel ready anew. He would wait, though. By God, he would wait for you. I am perhaps ruined for all other women out in the world now. One cunt, only one perfect cunt should take my cock and seed from now on. My sweet wife’s…

He wondered how far he could take you, how high he could drive you and how dark he could turn you in tastes of the flesh. He was a wicked man, no denying such an obvious fact, yet with you, he would hold back. He would attempt to take his sweet time teaching you, caring for you, showing you all the pleasures of your body and his if you were to allow him. He’d had plenty of practice, done more than enough research on the matter and — truth be told — he was a rather skilled man in the bedroom department. There’s a reason the whores came crawling back, of course. What a shame none will ever reach up to Y/n, could have been easier with a woman already trained to— no, no none could ever replace my sweet wife or her perfect cunt.

Richard sank deeper into thought while he wondered how he could make sure you were willing to be his in every manner possible for all time to come. Sure, you were wed and divorce was out of the question, he had vowed before God to be by your side until death claimed one and he would hold that vow no matter what. Yet, it had taken him six months to claim you fully, how much longer would it take before he could be fully free with you in every manner he wished? A year? Two? Too long, unacceptable.

He pondered for another moment but no matter how he twisted it he knew he would never want you to feel anything but pleasure and want with him. He was certain he could make you his entirely if he did it all correctly, nicely, differently from how he had gone about things before. You have changed so much, love… He was still a stoic, harsh, dark sort of man. He wished to be caring with you though, even if his fantasies for what he could share with you mingled pain and pleasure — turning the two into one and he could not understand how he was to make you see he truly cared for you, wanted you, loved you beyond compare when such dark urges were curling beneath his skin.

⩤• You •⩥

You found him the parlour. He wore his usual golden attire, except no coat. Just the vest and white shirt beneath it. You had opted for a mossy green dress, not one of the big puffy ones but a simpler one — only for wearing at home in comfort — yet it was pretty and hugged your forms rather nicely.

“Richard?” you asked and he looked up from the book he was reading by the hearth. He laid it down on the table next to the three Christmas cards you hated with an insecure passion, having read them only yesterday, when they arrived in the morning, addressed to Richard and signed with sickeningly sweet female names. You walked in, sitting yourself down on the sofa next to him without glancing at them again. They felt like an even bigger slight now, after what you'd given him and how he'd nearly turned you away afterwards.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, and you shook your head. “Do not hide things from me,” he said, a sternness to his voice. “I’m not hiding.” Your fingers fidgeted a bit atop your thighs and he grasped both of your hands with one of his. “Hurt?” “No… I’m fine,” you said while heat crept along your cheeks, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look him in the eye. It was both true and not. “Then, what?”

It took you a moment to gather your courage, to gather your thoughts as well. But once you had you turned toward him while the coals in the hearth had the room in a warm glow of red. Its heat wasn’t enough to fully warm the room but enough to keep it from growing too cold, with Richard so close heat wasn’t really a problem though. Just looking at him warmed you, yet your mind was muddled with all that had happened and the things you wanted to say weren't what sprung to mind. You wanted to ask if he was pleased with you, wanted to ask if he would hold you close, wanted to ask if you were good enough for him despite your inexperience, and if he truly had meant what he'd said about you being his love. That last one had your heart in a twist, you wished for it so badly as you now knew why all the things he did and said meant so much to you. You loved him. You had truly grown to love the man. A man you hardly knew despite the six months you had been a pair.

“Why do you hate Christmas?” you asked, not sugarcoating it at all but choosing a topic that felt safer than the rest you wished to talk about. Richard blinked and sighed, attempting to remove his hands from yours which only made you grab on harder to him. “Talk to me, tell me why you-, why you were so brutal with me…” “Love, I apologize for my reaction.” “Apology accepted.” He nodded at that, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But explain,” you continued while wondering if that first word had been a false endearment or a truth. “It’s a rough, unpleasant holiday for me, leave it at that.” “No.” “No?” “No.”

You held his gaze as he looked at you, stunned for a second at your harsher tone. But you remained still, unwavering. You needed something from him, anything, while you thought of whores (who you hoped remained in the past) sending Christmas cards to your husband while you weren't even allowed to decorate your home for the holiday in the slightest. “It is none of your concern.” “It’s my favourite holiday and my husband's well-being we’re talking about. So, tell me, please.” “No. I will not speak of it. Leave it be,” he bit out, his hand tugging free from yours. The uncomfortable feeling you had from before grew into a loneliness. You had just given him your purity, showed him you loved him, and forgiven his cruelty toward you — yet he could not give you this? He could not speak with you while overly sweet, longing-filled cards lay on the table for him, writings of wants and needs and sweetness in less than accurate spelling by women he surely had had intimate relations with several times given the words within those cards.

“You are cruel,” you whispered, glancing at the floor for a second while your stomach churned. “What?” “You heard me. You’re a cruel man, Richard,” you said flatly, but your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked up at him. “Not a single kindness showed after— Not one. I'm in love with a cruel man…” You rose from the sofa as you spoke. Not wanting to sit next to him when you felt so broken, so vulnerable, taken advantage of. Was it all pretend for him? A conquest? A physical need as easily relieved by a whore? Perhaps I’m no more than the whores he used to take… They speak of him as if he was most kind to them, pampering and lavishing. Perhaps I’m less than a whore?

You shook your head, a broken and quiet laugh spilling out while you whispered the word “whore” to yourself. The dread and chill of the thoughts crept in and you hugged yourself, suddenly feeling too exposed in the sleek dress you’d chosen for comfort — in the hopes of sitting close to your husband, to feel his warmth through the fabric and banish the worry that had bloomed in your heart.

Richard hadn’t once spoken words of affection, words of care, words of love or tenderness. Only praise, while he was touching your body… It made you feel dirty, used. The sensation of loneliness peaked when you glanced at the Christmas cards, all for Richard and none for you. All you wished to do was burn them. Burn the words, rid yourself of the feeling of being so worthless to a man you’d grown to love, trust, and care for.

“Whores don’t get cards,” you whispered. “What are you whispering about?” Richard asked while you spun around, tears streaking down your cheeks while your eyes flicked between him and the glowing coal to his left. “Whores don't get Christmas cards,” you said more clearly as you bent and grabbed the papers in red, green, and white. “But they fucking send them,” you snarled and threw them into the hearth. One landed on the carpet, two took to flames in a matter of seconds and Richard swiftly rose from the sofa in a far too elegant motion.

“Perhaps I should have been a whore, obviously they receive kinder treatment than your sweet wife,” you snarled and you had no idea what had taken over your mind. You never spoke harshly, you were raised to be proper, to be a lady at all times. But this, this whole situation, it hurt. You were hurting so deeply a knife could have been stuck in your heart and it would have been less painful than the emotions running rampant.

You ran out of the room, tears and sobs taken with you while abandoning the man you loved. The cruel man Mrs Lowel had nearly convinced you you mattered to, that you were special for, that you were important to. “How could I ever be so stupid… And now I gave him everything,” you said between sobs as you half-stumbled up the stairs. He didn’t come after you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well that took quite a turn there, didn't it? And another cliffhanger, who could ever have guessed 😂😂😂 I feel like this Rickmas is the Rickmas of Cliffhangers 😅 Gosh, I hope you're not too upset about that as we are doing longer, more in-depth stories this year - can't have the good without the bad I guess (I do love cliffhangers when I know I'll get the next part though) ❤ Now, how we feeling? We ready to go even darker in the next part perhaps? 👀🤭

Q: If you could have Alan play one character he never got to play, which one would it be? A: For me it would be Judge Claude Frollo in a live-action remake of the Disney movie - that is probably no surprise to those who have been with me for a while but gosh, he would have made such a perfect Frollo 😩👌🔥

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[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #judge turpin #judge turpin x read #judge turpin fic #christmas fic #holiday fic

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evans23 · 6 months ago

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Loving you is a losing game

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Reader OC

Summary : The Judge Turpin has married you by buying your hand to your father. Determined to not let him get close to you and even less reach your heart well kept under ice and resentment, you keep on to push him away. But after having been told that loving you is a losing game, something new seems to awake inside of you.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Forced marriage. Assault.

A/N : Hello dear 😁 here lay my first Turpin fiction. I didn't really know where I was going with it but here is it. I didn't proofread it so there are probably some mistakes, sorry for that. I forgot to mention I am not the one who came up with the name Richard. I read this name in the terrific trilogy “Judged and Sentenced” from @deepperplexity. Since then I saw the name pop up here and there and so, I suppose the name is sort of canon now 😅

Part II

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You couldn't put up with the fact that he had bought you. But it wasn't really him, your husband, that you despised for that. It was your father. The man you thought you could always count on.

You had had quite an easy childhood with not too many constraints, which were rather rare at that time. You had been taught to read and to write. And you were a good writer. Such a good one that one day, a publisher from a local and independent Newspaper from London made you sign a contract to edit some of your short stories in his Sunday paper. And as he was well known in the literary sector, he put you in touch with a book publisher. This is how you became "Alexander Bryant" in the eyes of the public. Of course, you weren't able to be published under your real name. A female writer ? What an offense !

But you didn't really care as you were able to make some money from the sale of it. Some really good money, a rarity for a woman. It was fortunate as, for the biggest desperation of your father, you weren't, in any way possible, a good maid. You couldn't sew two points in a raw correctly, your cooking wasn't palatable at all and if you appreciated living in a tidy house, you couldn't spend more than one hour or less doing that.

But you didn't have to worry about it now as you had been married for two months to no one else than "The Death's Judge".

"How did it happen to me," you muttered to yourself, looking at you in the mirror without really seeing your reflection.

In fact, you perfectly knew how it had happened. You didn't know how and you didn't know where, but Richard, your now husband, had noticed you one day and since then, your faith was decided.

He came one day to your house with a bouquet of flowers for you. You had looked at him suspiciously. You knew who he was. His reputation preceded him of course but you also had a glimpse at him one day when you were at the court with your publisher and one of his associates to negotiate the terms of your new contract with a solicitor.

At that time, you didn't think anything peculiar about the man. You vaguely remembered having thought that he was quite handsome with his hooked nose, his tall frame and his charismatic presence. If you hadn't been forced to marry him, you would have admitted that you had found him alluring.

But here was the point : your father had sold you to the man.

That day when he came to your house with his bloody flowers and his absolutely not appealing smile. He had asked to talk with your father and you had fetched him as quickly as you could, afraid that he was in trouble.

He wasn't in trouble, nevertheless, the call of the money echoed deeply in him when Judge Turpin offered a generous dowry for your hand.

"I apologies to have to tell you are in the wrong Judge Turpin."

The man had looked up at you with a frown.

"This is the woman's family who have to provide you with a dowery and unfortunately, no one here is in measure to give you a penny."

It was half a lie as you kept your money in security into a chest under your bed. You weren't quite honest about your earnings with your father as he was quite a spendthrift. So, you helped him by giving him a small amount of money, keeping preciously the rest away to constitute a nest egg for later.

Absolutely not bewildered by your interruption and your statement, Turpin had grinned before announcing that you were the one making in mistake in this particular case.

"I had the sincere desire to marry you and as I just said, I will give a compensation to your father for the loss of his precious daughter."

You had retained a laugh, persuaded that never ever my father would agree to such an obnoxious offer.

You were so wrong. The Judge had let you some days to think over the offer he had laid on.

Tempted by this important amount of money Turpin was willing to pay to ensure that your father handed over your hand to him, your thoughtful father didn't need to think too long to accept his offer and in the blink of an eye, you were betrothed.

You had protested, swearing that you would prefer to kill you rather than marry the man, the deal was sealed without you having a say. In any way, no one was willing to listen to you.

During the ceremony, you were full of apprehension, afraid about your wedding night. But for your biggest surprise, nothing happened. After the party, the both of you retired in the privacy of his opulent mansion, he showed you your room and left you alone.

Your new house was daunting, not up to your expectations. The exteriors were quite imposing, displaying the wealth of the Judge, but the inside was… not really gloomy but also not really lively. It was as if the house was uninhabited. And you discovered later it was the case. Turpin, Richard as he asked you to call him, was seldomly at home. He departed for the court early in the morning and came back late in the night. Since your wedding, you didn't share a meal together and your only company was your maid.

For such a big house, he didn't have nearly so much staff as one could expect of a man of his stature would have. A cook, three maids, whose one had been hired exclusively for you, and the Beadle. You didn't really know who the man was and what clearly was his function beside your husband but you couldn't stand him. His ratty face didn't inspire you any confidence. He seemed deceitful and ready to betray his own mother if it could bring him any advantages.

"Like Richard," you said to no one as you were looking out the window at the crowd running around the city.

Hadn't you been so resentful about the latest events, you would have admitted that your life wasn't as bad as you imagined it would become after your wedding.

He didn't touch you that night nor any other after that. He didn't try anything which could have distressed you, didn't restrict you from any freedom you thought you would be longing for. You were allowed to write, he was more than happy to furnish you the papers and the ink you needed and he had arranged a room for you to make your office. You were allowed to go out, only on the condition to stay in the richest part of the town and you could visit your publisher when needed without his approval. His only wish was that you let your maid know when you were leaving the home. You weren't dupe, you knew that as soon as you set a foot outside, he was informed. But even if he was aware of each of your movements inside and outside the mansion, you were still able to enjoy your freedom, a privilege a lot of women lost after being married.

He also lavished you with presents. Valuable jewelry, the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen, books, flowers. Not a week had passed without an attention for you. In the beginning, you hesitated between bringing the presents into his office to let him know you didn't want to have anything to do with him but well aware of his reputation, you had been afraid of infuriating him. After all, you didn't really know the man and he could retake what he had given you at any time.

So was what you told to yourself rather than admit the truth : you were flattered and pleased to receive such beautiful gifts. Should someone have utter that maybe you could come to appreciate your husband you would fervently have denied it. After all, how could you become accustomed to him without having the opportunity to speak with him ?

The only moments shared together were on Sunday. Richard wasn't a fervent believer in God and neither did you, so you had a lazy Sunday at the mansion. It was the only time during which you ate lunch and diner together and during the afternoon, he systematically invited you to join him in the parlor but you rarely spoke to one another. In general, both of you were reading. Sometimes, you brought with you your ongoing book and he would ask you random questions about it. He had once admitted to having your previous literary work.

"And what did you think of it ?" you had asked with a feigned indifference.

Your stoicism hid your nervousness. You couldn't fathom why you felt nervous about his opinion about your work, but you were.

"Well my dear, It is unusual for a woman to write about such things as a vampire. Even less a love story like this one. Does the sexual tension between the human lady and the vampire make on purpose ?" he had asked bluntly.

You had nodded once, your cheeks flushing at the mention of some somewhat suggestive scenes from your book.

"Well, I am impatient to read the next part of it."

And that was all.

Mustering up the motivation you were lacking to officially begin the day, you pulled yourself away from the window and asked the help of your maid to get ready to go out. You had to go see your publisher and then, you expected to have a walk in the park to make the better of the sunny day, which began to spread ahead as the hours passed by.

But nothing happened as you had planned. While you were walking in the street, you took a side road to reach faster your destination. It was a dark, filthy little street dwelt with drunkers and dwellers. You weren't really scared as you had taken this path numerous times in the past and as long as you minded your own business, you weren't really in danger. At least, it was what you thought. How wrong you were, you realized when a callous hand had fallen on your mouth.

"Your lost little beauty ?" asked a raspy voice.

You shivered, trying with all your strength to get away from the man but his grip was strong.

"Don't make it difficult little beauty, you will like it."

You bit his hand to blood, which earned you a ferocious slap on the face. You fell on the ground, a bit dizzy, trying as hard as you could to pull yourself together but you didn't have the time than his hand clenched at your hair, pulling you violently towards him. Standing you up roughly, making you let a squirm escape your lips, he pushed you against the wall, a hand on your breasts, another trying to find his way under your skirt.

Totally paralyzed, you were unable to move or even scream. Your breath became heavy as you stayed motionless even though you knew what would happen next.

He has approached his face from yours, his foul breath caressing your lips, making you want to throw up, when a snicker was heard.

Not really moved by the onlooker, the man had run his tongue across your cheeks, which had the effect of waking you up from your trance.

You tried to slap him but he was faster and knocked your head with his fist.

"Constable !' shouted a voice.

In one instant, the man was pushed down to the ground by two constables. Behind them were the Beadle. The snicker-man.

"Having dared to touch the wife of the Judge Turpin…" he muttered, enjoying the moment.

"It is something that will send you right through your death," he added with a horrendous laugh.

You have been brought back to the mansion by another policeman while Beadle escorted your assaulter to the prison, clearly enjoying what he had witnessed and the fate of the mongrel.

When you arrived, Richard was already torn, the worry imbued all over his face.

"[Y/N], dear, are you well ?" he asked his voice full of concern.

He tried to take your hand but you pushed him away before holding yourself tightly to retain your shivers.

He didn't follow you as your maid came towards you to lead you to the bathroom where she ran a bath for you. You soaked in the water until it was cold. Then, you called for your maid. At any other time, you would have dismissed her as soon as your bath was ready. You didn't like having someone around you to help you with something as trivial as drying you off but you were exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open. But it's not your maid who entered into the room. It was your husband.

"Richard…" you whispered, not daring to look at him.

You felt suddenly wide awake, the tiredness dissipated and replaced with something else. You felt ashamed about what had happened. You knew it wasn't your fault, for that man had acted with malignancy and it couldn't have been the first time. At this thought, you bristled.

"[Y/N], let me help you," he said, stepping in carefully.

He dropped a thick towel around you but when he tried to rub you in the aim to bring some heat to your cold skin, you backed away.

"Don't be afraid [Y/N]. I just want to help you. I will protect you."

He tried again to approach you but then again you backed away, trying to shut him out from trying to break through your shell.

"[Y/N]," he said almost desperately.

You shook your head, muttering for him to go away.

"Leave me alone," you said with anger.

"No ! I want to help you," he replied, looking with disapproval at the bruises which began to form on your face.

"I don't want your help ! I want you to go out. Let me be !" you shouted.

"No ! You are my wife, my place is by your side."

"I'm not," you retorted.

"What ?" Asked Richard, his own anger boiling up quietly but surely.

"I am not your wife," you said with defiance.

He made one step towards you and this time you didn't move, holding his gaze with fury.

"You are my wife. We had wed in front of our families and of God !"

"God has nothing to do with our marriage. You have bought a wife as we bought a dog."

"I asked for your hand because I am in love with you."

"How ? How could you be in love with me ? We have never spoken together !" you shouted totally oblivious that the staff could hear you. "If you were really in love with me, you would have courted me properly."

"Would you have agreed ?"

You didn't respond as the answer was obvious. Never you would have paid the slightest attention to his advance, but there wasn't the point.

"So, no matter what, you get what you want by fair means or foul." you spit out.

"My patience grows thin, woman." he warned you.

"And what are you going to do ? Giving me a beating ?" you asked brazenly.

He clenched and unclenched his fists several times. Never would he have laid a finger on you on the purpose of hurting you but you were clearly unnerving him far more than anyone before you had dared to.

"I try [Y/N]. I try very hard. You are the one unwilling to make any effort to come to me and get to know me."

"Buying a hand doesn't mean you buy a heart !" you retorted coldly.

You were about to add something else, something you wish was hurtful but you didn't have time as he cut you off.

"I tried to talk about your writing, about your childhood, your hobbies. You always answered me with monosyllable, always with a bored look on your face. I gave you space, I didn't coerce you to oblige to your marital duty, I let you go out alone as a proper lady shouldn't do. And this is how you thank me each time. By pushing me away. Again and again and again. Each time I try to show you kindness, you answer with meanness."

He had said that in a calm, poised voice but his anger could clearly be heard. He had talked with the calm severity of a teacher who doesn't need to raise his voice to make his disobedient pupils obey.

"Richard," you whispered.

"Loving you is a losing game but things are going to change, woman ! I am not to let you mess with me anymore. Yes, mark my words, things are going to change for you woman !" he growled dominating you with his imposing presence.

His baritone voice sent some shivers along your backbone.

With one last look at your bruised face, he quit the room, slamming the door behind me.

You stayed there for a while, stunned by what had just happened. He was right. Now that you thought about all the moments he had passed with you, never had you let him reach you farther than the cold surface layer that prevented the world from knowing the real you.

You were so angry about having been bought like an animal that you had never tried to be more acquainted with him. He was right, never ever he could have had your attention, even less your friendship and certainly not your heart if he hadn't barged in your home. And if you were totally honest, you would admit that you begrudged far more your father than Richard for the deal that was made that day.

"But He still didn't have my heart." you reasoned with yourself.

But inwardly, you felt as if it weren't true anymore. Not totally. You couldn't tell you were in love with him but for the first time, you were ready to recognize that you felt something for the man.

Loving you is a losing game, had he said but at this precise moment, you felt as if you were the one losing the game you had settled the both of you in. You were losing the game of hatred in favor of love. And this night, whilst you were staring at the ceiling, you found yourself hoping that he take back his words, that he came to the conclusion that loving you was worth it.

#alan rickman x reader #judge turpin #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin x you #alan rickman #sweeny todd #evans23

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corpsegelic · 10 months ago

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⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ ୨ᰔ୧ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

ㅤ:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀꒰ welcome ꒱

ㅤ `· . ୨୧. ⠀꒰ aidoneus / amaris ♡ ๑︵ꪒꪒ ꒱ ₊ ˚

♡ ┊꒱ he / they / it

૮Ꮚ ┊ ꒱ friends / mutuals : no one on here, really. not too active here, add my discord corpsegelic. to get to know me more.

୨୧ ┊ ꒱ bisexual ┊ genderfluid┊ minor

౨ৎ ┊ ꒱ 5/31 , gemini , a bit shy but once i feel comfortable with you, i become more extroverted.

☾ ┊ ꒱ mr mans, my pretty boy<3 ໒꒰ྀི⁄ ⁄>⁄ ⁄ <⁄ ⁄꒱ྀི১

✩ ┊ ꒱ current special interests are sweeney todd, greek mythology, vkei, cats and capybaras !! hyperfixations are wolverine, x-men, and chucky ♡ ໒꒰⸝⸝´̣̣̥꒳`̣̣̥⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

☁️┊ i am a proud follower of Hades and Persephone, I honor and respect them. Please respect me, and I will respect you. “Jesus loves you/Let Jesus into your heart/Convert to Christianity” comments are not appreciated. ꒱

🄰 ┊ ꒱ Hades and Persephone are my parental figures. I like Dr Pepper. I am a very sleepy person. I love my boyfriend, 2/14/24 was the best day of my life. I tend to get annoyed easily. I am blunt, and will say whatever comes to my mind which gets me into situations i fr don’t wanna be in ( ´△｀)

🄱 ┊ ꒱ DNI : basic dni criteria, people who sexualize vkei bands, mrs lovett and judge turpin defenders, supremacists, simps (fictionkins are okay, they do not fall under DNI), iylaartz.

🄲 ┊ ꒱ “ねえ、愛してると言ってよ”

(“nee, aishiteru to itte yo”)

ᕬ⑅ᕬ ┊ ꒱ thank you for reading!

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

#intro post #diffidentamaris

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eddysocs · 2 years ago

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To-Do List

Updated November 10th, 2024

There is no specific order I do my requests in. It’s just whatever strikes me in the moment. Requests will be removed from this list when they’re put in my queue/drafts until they’re ready to post.

🚧 = WIP (Work In Progress)

Ask Games

🚧 💕: Ship Moodboard - Matilda Northbrook x Ted Lasso 🚧

🍿: Favorite Movie - Matilda Northbrook

💕: Ship Moodboard - Arabella Of Prussia x Eloise Bridgerton

❌: Crossover - Alyria Polantis & Minnia Of Redania

❌: Crossover - Belladonna Stillwell & Eternity Whitmire

💉: Tattoos/Scars - Kira Kay

👗: Fashion Board - Alyria Polantis

❌: Crossover - Julia Jessup & Effie Larkin

❌: Crossover - Dez Shepard & Kira Kay

❌: Crossover - Bella Carlisle & Sally Barker

🏠: Interior Design Board - Mille Cartwright

💕: Ship Moodboard - Myra Wescott x Tilley Arnold

Fics

🚧 Psychobabble - Jodie Rourke x Cathy Brown (Requested by Anon) 🚧

To help her study, Cathy takes to reading her psychology textbook out loud. Jodie might not understand all the terminology, but she sure doesn’t mind listening to Cathy read.

Caught Out - Henrietta Parsons x Buster Brady (Requested by Anon)

While Agnes is in the kitchen talking to Dermot, Henrietta and Buster make use of their alone time, at least until Mrs. Brown catches them.

Bet On It - Josie Collins x Hawkeye Pierce (Requested by Anon)

When Josie scoffs at one of Hawkeye's pranks, it starts a prank war between them that the whole camp starts putting money on.

For The Night - Delphine Kincaid x Judge Turpin (Requested by Anon)

Turpin finds Delphine wandering the London streets late one night, and offers her a bed for the night, or longer…

Comfort In Her Arms - Kira Kay x Kim Richards (Requested by Anon)

After encountering some problems at home, Kira does what she always does and runs to Kim. Kim always has a way of making it all feel better.

West End Boys - Brennan Marks x Jamie Tartt (Requested by Anon)

After hearing him ramble on about this new musical he wants to see, Jamie takes it upon himself to score some tickets for him and Brennan.

Mine - Cinda Stackhouse x Eric Northman (Requested by Anon)

Once Eric decides to claim Cinda as his, he reveals a more possessive side that both surprises and delights Cinda.

Summer Breeze - Sadie Leigh x Norma Bates (Requested by Anon)

With Norman away for the day, Norma has a list of errands planned, but Sadie something on her own to do list first.

Weasley Family Welcome - Olivette Littletree x Molly Weasley (Requested by Anon)

Ginny, George and Ron all help organize a Weasley family picnic in order to officially welcome Olivette into the family.

Promise Ring Pop - Skye Leonard x Shaun Murphy (Requested by Anon)

When Shaun decides to propose, Skye definitely didn’t see it coming, nor did she expect a cherry flavored ring.

Gun Show - Angelica Morley x Alfie Solomons (Requested by Anon)

Alfie shows Angel how to shoot a gun, or so he thinks.

Marriage Bed - Heather Cohen x Clint Barton (Requested by Anon)

Heather and Clint are partnered up to go undercover as a married couple, and everyone finds it a little suspicious at how good they are at playing their roles.

How To Be Hers - Alessandra Blair x Cruella DeVil (Requested by Anon)

Alessandra begins her role as Cruella's submissive and learns what her mistress expects of her.

Public Display Of Pride - Roxette Ortiz x Carrie Black (Requested by Anon)

Roxette takes Carrie to one of her favorite pride events and it gets a little emotional for Carrie.

The Tell Off - Jodie Rourke x Cathy Brown (Requested by Anon)

When Cathy's professor oversteps his boundaries, Jodie and Agnes team up to put him in his place on Cathy's behalf.

Outside Looking In - Nessa Tolliver x Rebecca Welton (Requested by Anon)

Roy and Keeley's observations of Nessa and Rebecca's relationship.

Expect The Unexpected - Minnia x Jaskier (Requested by Anon)

Minnia is struggling with the early side effects of her pregnancy, and Jaskier steps up to put her worries and her body at ease.

Pretty As A Picture - Matilda Northbrook x Ted Lasso (Requested by Anon)

Ted takes Tildy out for a date/joint work outing, and they take in some museum exhibits, including one about the history of football.

New OCs

🚧 Name TBD - FD: It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia - FC: Laura Slade Wiggins - LI: Dennis Reynolds 🚧

🚧 Allison Pontier - FD: Beetlejuice - FC: Vinessa Shaw - LI: Barbara Maitland 🚧

🚧 Serena Medford - FD: Beetlejuice - FC: Kathryn Newton - LI: Delia Deetz 🚧

🚧 Amarantha Renault - FD: Beetlejuice - FC: Samara Weaving - LI: Delores LaFerve 🚧

Preferences

🚧 Once Upon A Time OCs: How They Feel When They Realize Their S/O Is Their Happy Ending - Requested by Anon 🚧

Xena Warrior Princess OCs: Jealousy - Requested by Anon

True Blood OCs: Marking - Requested by Anon

Doctor Who OCs: Adventure They’d Most Want To Go On With Their S/O - Requested by Anon

Ted Lasso OCs: Where They’d Go On Their First Date - Requested by Anon

Wednesday OCs: How They’d Celebrate Halloween With Their S/O - Requested by Anon

True Blood OCs: How They’d Celebrate Halloween With Their S/O - Requested by Anon

M*A*S*H OCs: How They React To Their S/O Being Injured During The War - Requested by Anon

#to do list #requests

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purplelupins · 2 years ago

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Just wanted to say I found you through The Grabber fics you wrote and I was instantly hooked !! Then as I read through a few others I can say I’m equally addicted . The Judge Turpin x read and the Wicked games Severus Snape one especially ! All of them have been a fantastic read and escape and even comfort! Thank you for all the wonderful fics you have created!

Oh my goodness thank you so much!! Ahh it’s so nice to hear that my other older works are still liked. My Turpin fic is still one of my favourites and I really want to finish it. So happy to have you here!🤍

-Nora

#nora speaks #asks #nice people are nice

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chaos-caffeinated · 3 years ago

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I had this is in my mind for days... for DAYS...

No plot just smut, yum.

Judge Turpin x reader x Snape

Moans were loud from your end as the other end of the spectrum where the quiet, but desperate grunts of Severus Snape underneath, thrusting into your wet cunt as he held your hips in place.

You were trembling, shaking, overestimated from the prior events and you desperately wanted to end this, but he wouldn't let you.

You felt a second pair of hands, each wrapping you in a different place. One was wrapped from your waist while the other just underneath your breast, rib cage as he pulled you back straight. Snape's thrusts were more pronounced this way and you yelped from the sensitivity.

Your back was pressed against a stiff chest as you shivered in delight feeling his chin resting against your shoulders.

"You are doing a splendid job, little one, such a splendid job." His deep voice rumbled against your ear that made you whimpered in delight.

"Let's give Lord Snape a splendid gift shall we?"

The hand that rested against your hip guided its way to your core, your folds sensitive to touch and wet as well.

"Squeeze him." Instructed Turpin, "squeeze your walls against his thickened member."

The vivid imagery sent chills down your spine as you imagined Snape's reaction. Your eyes were tired, half-closed and you gazed at your partner breathing heavily.

His eyebrows were knitted, forming a crease in the middle, sweat was covering his body as you see his chest rising and lowering with each heavy breath.

"Would you like that, my lo-" you yelped from shock, gasping into the skies as your body immediately squeezed Snape causing him to arch his back and moaned loudly.

Turpin has squeezed your sensitive clit, "Good, good just like that." And he did it again causing the same chain reaction.

Snape proceeded to fuck you, holding your hips as Turpin left kisses around your neck, sometimes pulling your face into a heated kiss. It was too much, it was getting there way too quick.

The next day they each took care of you with their best ways, Turpin by offering you water, comfort, and food. He even offered to read poems to you and left you with nothing but compliments and praises, whereas Snape cuddled you and whispered sweet nothings to your ear.

#snape x reader smut #chaos #enjoy you heathens #judge turpin fanfiction #judge turpin smut #snape smut #snape x reader

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ilikefandom · 4 years ago

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A Cup of Tea

Request: Helllooo, I was the one who asked for part two :’) :’). I think tea time with Judge inside his Manor, and then he confessed his feelings. I’M SORRY IM NOT REALLY GOOD AT THIS

Requested by: @snapeswhorecrux

Synopsis: Tea Time at Turpin’s

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Fem Reader

Genre: Romance/fluff

Warning: some 18+ themes (Nothing explicit or detailed)

Edward Turpin was a smart man. Handing down rulings to the worst of criminals and keeping his cool when others hurt him. What he did not understand was (Y/n) (Y/l/n).

She was the pretty daughter of (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n) and he couldn’t muster up the courage to talk to her.

Ever since he had found out, one winter’s day, of the book club that she and his sweet Johanna had started, he couldn’t keep her out of his mind.

As he strode down the street to his home on a bright, sunny, summer afternoon, he spotted the young woman in question perched on the bench outside of his home. She was wearing light blue today, complete with a white bonnet that hid her face from all but Johanna.

He caught her sweet smell again as he passed her. The lavender was stronger, but perhaps that was because the flower was in full bloom. He peaked up at Johanna as he passed her friend and made his way inside.

As he entered his home and pulled one of the many books off of the shelf, mumbling to himself as he made to sit down in the chair next to the fireplace. Setting the book on the side table he gazed toward the kitchen as an idea spilled into his mind.

“Johanna, it’s almost tea time, why don’t you invite your,” he paused for a moment, “friend inside.”

He heard a squeal from upstairs and chuckled as Johanna relaid the information to (Y/n). He began to walk to the kitchen to prepare the tea himself, but then thought better of it and made his way back to the chair. Picking up the book and watching as Johanna sprinted past him and opened the door.

(Y/n) stepped into his home and removed her hat allowing Edward to see her hair. He wanted to touch it. She looked around and smiled before nodding at Turpin and making her way to the kitchen with Johanna.

“You know Mr. Turpin can make the tea. Rules of hospitality.” He heard Johanna comment.

The tinkling of (Y/n)’s laugh echoed out of the hallway. “I can do it, he’s been at work all day. He’s probably tired.”

Edward smirked. He picked up his book and opened it to a random page. It was a section about concubines in the palace of King Henry VIII. He smirked and settled down to read. He had finished the page and was about to turn it when the whistle of the kettle brought him out of his stupor. He stood and placed the book back on the shelf where it belonged.

A few moments later (Y/n) entered the room, Johanna close behind her, and set the newly polished, silver tea tray onto the tea table. (Y/n) poured the tea gracefully. Making all the right movements and adding just the right amount to Turpin’s cup.

Edward maneuvered his hand to take the sugar, brushing it upon (Y/n)’sfor a few moments. He smiled to himself as he brought the tea to his lips and drank. It was perfect. He couldn’t do better himself.

(Y/n) looked the slightest bit embarrassed at the interaction, but she smiled at Turpin as she sank into one of the other armchairs, leaving Johanna the couch to herself.

He remained quiet as Johanna set down her cup and looked up at (Y/n). “How is the season going?”

“As well as it can without a partner.” (Y/n) smiled. “I have attended many events and met many nice young ladies.”

Johanna whined. “(Y/n) there has to be a young man that you are interested in.”

The other girl shook her head slightly and took a dainty sip from her tea cup. “The next event is in a few days.” She said looking deep into the tea in her cup.

Johanna squealed and shifted a little in her seat. “What is it?” She asked, almost shaking from excitement for her friend.

“The Masquerade.” (Y/n) replied. “Father pooled together some money to get me a dress in this year’s fashion for the dance. I told him it was too much and I could wear last year or the year after last instead. But he insisted.”

Johanna beamed at the girl across from her and Edward felt for a moment that he was excluded from the conversation. He thought about attending the court tomorrow when (Y/n) caught his ear again.

“I hope with the new clothes and a mask I can spend the rest of the season with somebody. Maybe marry somebody important.”

A light went off in Turpin’s head as he smirked into his tea. And as the duo that resided in his house bid the young woman adieu, the gears turned in Edward’s mind.

That night, Turpin opened his closet to reveal his ball attire. He slipped it on and found the brown mask, deciding that it was too ugly to warrant this year’s season he found a smaller one hanging in the back. It was shinier and bronzed. He slipped it on his face and turned to look into the mirror.

He looked younger with the mask on, stronger in fact. He knew that, when the time came, he would ask Miss. (Y/n) to dance and assume the role that she needed. And she would be happy, wouldn’t she, being with him.

He smiled into the mirror and disrobed back to his everyday clothes. Making his way back downstairs, knowing Johanna had since gone to her room he opened the book he had been reading once more.

Holding it close he traced the image of a concubine entering the palace. The young woman changed, almost instantaneously. She shifted into (Y/n) gazing up at Edward from the pages of his book. He smiled and closed the book once more.

He didn’t know what that woman had done to him. His heart ablaze with love and lust and his mind flush with disgusting images, hoping she felt the same about him.

Author’s note: I hope you all enjoy this!! I’m getting close to 100 followers and I wnat to do somthing special when I do reach that milestone. If any of you have suggestion please either dm me or put in an ask/request.

#Sweeny Todd #sweeny todd x reader #Judge Turpin #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin x you #fem reader #Reader is female #fluff #romance #please reblog #please comment #Please give me feedback #please request things

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russian-soft-bitch · 3 years ago

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Besties I'm reading judge turpin x reader book on ao3 and its so good. I'll share it with you once I'm finished

#alan rickman #sweeney todd #judge turpin

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ao3feed-snape · 4 years ago

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Alan Rickman Character One Shots

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qGWGem

by Mudkip121

Just a bunch of one shots and stories of my favorite Alan Rickman Characters!

Characters X Reader

Colonel Christopher Brandon 💐 Hans Gruber 🔫 Harry Trevor 💍 Judge Turpin 👨⚖️ P.L. O'Hara 🎭 Severus Snape 🐍 Sinclair Bryant 💵 Sheriff Nottingham 🥄 Alexander Dane 👽 Metatron 😇 Elliot Marston 🤠 Lionel Shahbandar 🦁

Started (12/6/20)

Words: 2567, Chapters: 2/60, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sense and Sensibility (1995), Die Hard (Movies), Sweeney Todd (2007), An Awfully Big Adventure (1995), Close My Eyes (1991), Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991), Galaxy Quest (1999), Quigley Down Under (1990), Gambit (2012), Closet Land (1991), Love Actually (2003), Dogma (1999)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Reader, You, Severus Snape, Sinclair Bryant, Hans Gruber (Die Hard), Judge Turpin, P.L. O'Hara, Colonel Brandon (Sense and Sensibility), Sheriff of Nottingham, Alexander Dane, Elliot Marston, Lionel Shahbandar, Harry Trevor, Metatron (Dogma)

Relationships: Severus Snape/Reader, Colonel Brandon (Sense and Sensibility)/Reader, Hans Gruber/Reader, Judge Turpin/Reader, Sheriff of Nottingham/You, Alexander Dane/You, Elliot Marston/Reader

Additional Tags: Alan Rickman Tribute, One Shot Collection

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qGWGem

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Severus Snape #Snape #Professor Snape #SS

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ao3feed-batb2017 · 5 years ago

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Evily Ever After

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2lLMbd3

by JustFandomTrash

What if the villains won? What if they had a helper? Hellene Devil is just that helper but they accomplish their goals or will good once again prevail and how will she do when she starts falling for them.

Parings:

OC x Various Villains

Words: 3606, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), Anastasia (1997), Animal Crackers (2017), The Shining (1980), Cherry Falls (2000), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies), The Human Centipede (Movies), Die Hard (Movies), Saw (Movies), Friday the 13th Series (Movies), House of Wax (2005), The Boy (2016 Bell), Candyman (1992), Hellraiser (Movies), Child's Play/Chucky (Movies), Wolf Creek (Movies), Happy death day 2U, A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Wreck-It Ralph (Movies), ducktales the movie treasure of the lost lamp, Villainous (Cartoon), Coco (2017), Sweeney Todd (2007), Halloween Movies - All Media Types, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Gravity Falls, Phineas and Ferb, Rise of the Guardians (2012), Megamind (2010), Frozen (Disney Movies), The Princess and the Frog (2009), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), Hercules (1997), Aladdin (1992), The Lion King (1994), SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), Beauty and the Beast (2017)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Ronan the Accuser, Loki (Marvel), Erik Lehnsherr, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, horatio p Huntington, Jack Torrance, Leonard Marliston, Hannibal Lecter, Josef Heiter, Hans Gruber (Die Hard), Mark Hoffman, John "Jigsaw" Kramer, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire, Candyman | Daniel Robitaille, Pinhead, Chucky | Charles Lee Ray, Mick Taylor, Gregory Butler, Freddy Krueger, King Candy | Turbo (Disney), Merlock the Magician (Disney), Black Hat (Villainous), Ernesto De La Cruz, Judge Turpin, Michael Myers, Discord (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic), Bill Cipher, Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood), Megamind, Hans (Disney), Dr. Facilier (Disney), Claude Frollo, Hades (Disney), Jafar (Disney), Scar (The Lion King), Sheldon J. Plankton, Gaston (Disney), Simon Peter Gruber

Relationships: Ronan the Accuser/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Erik Lehnsherr/Original Female Character, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin/Original Character(s), horatio p Huntington/ original female character, jack Torrance/ original female character, Leonard Marliston/ original female character, Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Josef Heiter/ original female character, Hans Gruber (Die Hard)/Original Female Character(s), Mark Hoffman/Original Female Character(s), john Kramer/ original female character, Jason Voorhees/Original Female Character(s), Bo Sinclair/Original Female Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Original Female Character(s), Candyman | Daniel Robitaille/original female character, pinhead/original female character, Chucky | Charles Lee Ray/Original Female Character(s), Mick Taylor/original female character, gregory Butler/original female character, Freddy Krueger/Original Female Character(s), merlock the magician (Disney)/ original female character, Black Hat (Villainous)/Original Female Character(s), King candy | turbo (Disney)/original female character, Ernesto de la Cruz/original female character, Judge Turpin/Original Female Character(s), Michael Myers/Original Female Character(s), Bill Cipher/Original Female Character(s), Discord (my little pony)/original female character, heinz Doofenshmirtz/original female character, Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood)/Original Female Character(s), Megamind/Original Female Character(s), Hans (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), Dr. Facilier (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), Claude Frollo (Disney)/original female character, hades (Disney)/original female character, Jafar (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), scar (Disney)/original female character, Sheldon J. Plankton/Original Female Character(s), Gaston (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), Simon Peter Gruber/original female character

Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut, Alternate Universe, Romance, Polyandry, Polyamory, Character Death

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2lLMbd3

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #batb #beauty and the beast #emma watson #dan stevens

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 5 years ago

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Evily Ever After

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2lLMbd3

by JustFandomTrash

Parings:

OC x Various Villains

Words: 3606, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), Anastasia (1997), animal crackers (2017), The Shining (1980), Cherry Falls (2000), Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins Movies), The Human Centipede (Movies), Die Hard (Movies), Saw (Movies), Friday the 13th Series (Movies), House of Wax (2005), The Boy (2016 Bell), Candyman (1992), Hellraiser (Movies), Child's Play/Chucky (Movies), Wolf Creek (Movies), Happy death day 2U, A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), Wreck-It Ralph (Movies), ducktales the movie treasure of the lost lamp, Villainous (Cartoon), Coco (2017), Sweeney Todd (2007), Halloween Movies - All Media Types, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Gravity Falls, Phineas and Ferb, Rise of the Guardians (2012), Megamind (2010), Frozen (Disney Movies), The Princess and the Frog (2009), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), Hercules (1997), Aladdin (1992), The Lion King (1994), SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), Beauty and the Beast (2017)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Multi

Additional Tags: Fluff, Smut, Alternate Universe, Romance, Polyandry, Polyamory, Character Death

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2lLMbd3

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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a-queen-and-her-throne · 1 year ago

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😂😂🫶🫶 you’re the best omg I’m so glad you read those actually! I feel like they’re a safe place to ramble sometimes 😅

Prompt: 13. Shimmering Icicles [C3]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing, Prompt 6. Out Of Care

A/N:As promised! Here's today's fic - hope you'll love it 🤭 We're starting to get mighty warm in this one 👀 I mean, it is wintertime over here so I certainly don't mind 🤭🙈 I'm also so beyond ready to get a little break tbh - it's been nonstop of everything for the past few weeks (the last three days being super hectic with the writing as you know) and I'd love to curl up with a good book or longer fic and just take a moment to exist but I'm also super happy about all the writing I've gotten done so far this month 😂 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and that December keeps on giving all the good stuff 🥰❤

Tags/TW’s: Mutual Secret Pining, Wishing For Forgiveness, Cuddling Close In Sleep, Masturbation, Bathtub Pleasure, Unwilling/Unplanned Voyeurism, Virgin Reader, Sexual Desperation, Struggling With Emotions & New Sensations, Wishing For More, Yielding For Another's Benefit

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

Your body hummed with warmth, a calmness seemed sturdily wrapped around you as you awoke to the steadily growing light of dawn sifting through your closed eyelids. It was late morning and you couldn’t quite make yourself fully wake up. The dream of Richard returning to you in the middle of the night made you force yourself to remain on the borderline to wakefulness — the encompassing warmth did little to help sleep leave.

A flexing hand at your hip jolted your senses. You drew a quiet gasp as your eyes popped open in a rush. A pale chest dusted with grey hair filled your vision, the steady thumping of a heart beneath your ear rousing you further. You were curled up against Richard, his arm under your head and wrapped around your back. It wasn’t a dream .

You tried to remain utterly still, endeavouring to relax your muscles to fain sleep. Never had you laid so close. Never had he held you tightly. Never had you heard his heartbeat before or felt his steady breaths under your palm as his chest rose and sank. He was warm, soft yet sturdy — but that you already knew. How I missed you, darling … It was really a strange thing, though. Given everything, how had you fallen in love with the stoic man and felt as if he was missing from you when he wasn’t around? When did that really happen?

Richard hummed and tensed his arm for a second before his breaths turned deep and steady once more. You gently tilted your head back. His face was a wondrous thing to look at. Especially in that moment; his hard lines softened by sleep, the tension in his jaw gone for the time being, and his often scrunched eyebrows softly curved in relaxation. Your fingers tingled to reach up and drag down the curve of his hooked nose, to stroke those cheeks with the slight tint of rosy warmth and grey stubble.

You refrained. Instead, you cuddled closer, closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep. You wanted to remain there for as long as possible, a lacking in your heart you hadn’t known about suddenly felt filled with his closeness. Despite everything, he had come back and whatever discussion was to be had could wait. Your eternity rested in his hands, his words, but surely forever could spare another minute…

⩤• Turpin •⩥

He dared not move. The sun shone through the curtains, the day having since long begun. Yet he lay absolutely still, like a dead man in a casket. He kept his breaths deep and slow, every muscle relaxed and softened. Your warmth invaded his skin, your scent filled his nose, your soft breaths filled his ears with a sweet whooshing sound so low he could barely hear it but the warmth it fanned over his bare chest in intervals could not be missed.

Perhaps I perished in sleep and have reached— no, I must be very much alive, with my sweet wife cuddled close. The muddled and unfamiliar sensations within him were difficult to pinpoint — there were so many of them and all quite elusive to correctly term in their newness. His rigid cock was an easier matter to understand, you felt like perfection against him — despite the nightdress keeping your soft skin from his. This is not a time for my desperate need. I may very well be on the brink of never gaining such a gift from her, I cannot jeopardize this moment or the future beyond it.

He drew a deeper breath, gently moving his muscles to give you the chance to move away before ever knowing he was awake and aware of how the two of you lay so maddeningly close. But you didn’t move, nothing about your state changed and a mixture of relief and sorrow flooded him. He wished you awoke and remained cuddled against him willingly, what one did in sleep one had little control over and if you did not wake and made the active choice to remain close to him the moment meant that much less.

He sneaked his arm free before abandoning the warmth to shrug on his robe. When he glanced at you over his shoulder, your arm lay stretched over the mattress where he had been a moment ago but other than that nothing had changed. Asleep… Perhaps that is the only time I deserve your closeness, when you offer it unknowingly. The thought stabbed at his usually cold heart, his aching cock demanding to enter your warmth and find its sweet release, his skin itched to be connected with yours, and above all he wished for you to look him in the eye while offering your forgiveness.

None of it was granted, of course. He merely left the bedroom with a final glance at your sleeping form before heading to the bathroom. His movements were hurried, the constant pressure to go back and wake you, kiss you, press you down into the mattress with his own body while offering you all the pleasure he could was agonizingly unbearable.

He filled the tub with steaming water and shrugged out of his robe and underpants before sinking into the water with a deep groan. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes he tried to resist the urges coursing through his veins with the image of you in the bed as a constant stoker to the fire within him. It all mixed with his anger, his hurt, his wish for forgiveness, and the uncontrollable warmth you seemed to thaw his entire heart with.

His cock jerked as a memory flashed of you smiling widely at him, eyes all twinkly and warm when looking upon him. “Fucking hell and damnation,” he huffed out in a near snarl. “She’ll be the death of me, I swear it.” His hand found his cock and grabbed it harshly, squeezing the throbbing length with almost too much force as the need to come to the thoughts of you looking at him with warmth turned overwhelming.

He stroked himself, the water rippled at the motion as he spread his legs wider to relieve the pressure on his balls. “ Fuck ,” he hissed as he upped the pace, thinking of your hands on him, your lips against his skin, forgiveness and words of want tumbling out of your alluring mouth as he stroked himself harder. “Y/n— oh, fuck — ” he groaned while his balls drew up, his spine stiffening at the pending release he so desperately needed if he were to have the slightest chance at keeping a somewhat clear head later.

His hips bucked against his hand, and nearly painful pleasure built higher and higher as he gripped his cock harder — needing the pain to keep him from roaring out. “Y/n, my — haaa — sweet wife, oh fuck — ” He bit down on his lip, hissing a breath out between his teeth as he tensed all over. “Yes, yes, oh fuck -, Y/n—” His sentence got cut, his entire body turned stiff, and his eyes flew open at the sound of a gasp.

You stood in the doorway, your eyes wide, your hand over your agape mouth, the other still grasped the doorknob with with-knuckled force. “You-, you called my name,” you whispered while your cheeks turned scarlet, your entire throat rosy in a manner that only had his pleasure rising higher while your eyes seemed to look all over him in the clear bath, his hands still gripping his aching cock on the cusps of release.

It all happened in mere seconds, his lust-addled brain too caught in pleasure to fully register what was happening. “Oh my god!” you shrieked and his eyes found yours bound to his hand grasping his bulging length, he was still holding it tightly and the pressure along with your agonizingly alluring look of embarrassment and innocence tipped him over the edge before he could stop himself.

Red hot pleasure erupted within him as his cock pulsed, the water closest to it turning muddled with his cum while he gasped and groaned at the relief, his hips automatically jerking at the sensation while he tried to stop himself from completely unravelling while your intent gaze fanned the flames of his pleasure with your look of horror, intrigue, shame, and longing, all mixed into one delicious cocktail of purity to be ravaged. He couldn’t help it, you were the one woman he wished to be his and only his for all time — past, present, and future.

But this, the situation you were now in, had never been on his list of wants for your introduction to his naked anatomy. He always wished to go slow with you, make you feel safe in his proximity and closeness — make you curious, not frightened. Fucking hell , he thought while the five seconds after his climax passed in a breath-snagging stillness. Then you turned and slammed the door shut behind you with a bang so hard it rattled the walls. Dread seeped into his bones while his entire body deflated in the warm water. He feared all was lost now, seeing your reaction to him calling your name in the midst of manhandling his own cock. His body turned heavy and the sweetness of ejaculating to the thoughts of you did nothing to ease the stiffness in his shoulders.

⩤• You •⩥

You panted, your chest seemed nearly to explode as you tried to stop the raging of your pounding heart. You leaned against the door, a door you shouldn’t have entered despite hearing your name called. I thought he heard my steps, oh god, oh god, I thought— You hid your face behind your hands, your entire body felt on edge and there was a burning warmth forcing your entire body to tense as you couldn’t rid yourself of the magnificent view you had just witnessed. A primal urge. A deep-seated need. An indisputable sensation of something frighteningly new yet wholly wanted by your body.

Your skin was far too hot, your legs too shaky. The sound of Richard leaving the tub and water dripping on the tiles forced you to jolt away from the door. You couldn’t stop the feelings of him holding you close in the morning from mixing with whatever maddening sensation seeing him in such a state while nearly moaning your name made you feel now. It was too much, yet your body felt deprived of something at the same time.

Your back hit the hallway wall, your breaths in hot pants while the thin nightdress felt suffocatingly warm in the chilly house. Your eyes were glued to the door before you, your mind running rampant with the thought of your husband naked on the other side — and the length of him, the force of his hand, the look of pleasurable pain contorting his features just before his eyes had snapped to your face. The way his hips had jerked and he’d groaned, the depth of the sound wrecked you while you stood on trembling legs, frozen to the spot with only the wall for support.

Hope bloomed somewhere deep within you. Hope that he would forgive you, that he still wanted you, that he still wished to be with you despite the harsh words he’d spoken about your selfishness three days ago. You quenched a sobbed breath as your entire body confused you with the mixture of all the emotions running rampant within you. It was too much and you felt as if you were wound too tight, too tense and too loose at the same time — unable to untangle your feelings and thoughts while your body ached, thrummed, tensed, shook, all of it at the same time.

Your core ached far beyond anything else. A foreign sensation of coiling warmth your fingers seemed to itch to relieve. The view of Richard in the tub coming to the forefront, the sound of your name leaving his thin lips in such a darkly needy manner. You drew a shivering breath while trying to find your equilibrium. You couldn’t stay there, Richard would soon be done in the bathroom and you couldn’t face him when you were such a sordid mess.

After a few strained steps, you managed to get to the bedroom and slammed the door shut just as you heard the bathroom door open. You ran for the bed, diving in under the covers, and curled up in a ball of tension. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel — Your thought was cut short when the door opened slowly, the tiniest of creaking from its hinges the only indication before Richard’s footsteps echoed out. He was moving closer, each thud echoed in your core with trepidation and shame filling your blood.

“Y/n?” he asked in a deep rumble, his voice thicker than usual. You curled up further, fully hidden under the cover. You didn’t know what else to do but to hide, despite the way you’d missed him while he was gone and how happy you had felt when you noticed him wake up a mere half an hour ago but not moving away from you.

“You should not have seen that,” he said after a short moment, his steps echoing out again — drawing closer once more as he rounded the bed. “I have done my utmost to wait, shield you from my needs to allow yours to dictate the pace we move in. Why would you enter the bathroom in such a manner?” he asked, from the sound of it he stood right by your side and his voice was thick with something dark you couldn’t quite name. “I-, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice meek and strained with the confusing sensations tightening your body. “You called my name,” you continued quietly while listening to his rough breathing. A small whimper escaped you as your mind flashed with the way he’d said it, with such need and want. You never knew your name could sound so wondrous, so delectable, so lusty.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asked, his voice a caress of a rumble. “No.” “Why are you hiding, then?” You drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I-, I’m ashamed.” “Ashamed?” “Yes…” Because I feel like I’ll burst into flames if I look at you, and I looked at you when I shouldn’t have looked at you. And I’m frightened, and, and, and confused— “Why? Tell me,” Richard demanded. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t word what you were feeling, it was a mess and foreign to you. So, you remained quiet under the cover.

A long moment passed in silence, but you felt his presence. It only made you curl up further, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve whatever ache had steadily built at the apex of them. You’d felt a shadow of the sensation before, after having wed Richard and lived with him for a few weeks. He’d been dressed splendidly, seated in the parlour with a book and his legs crossed leisurely. He’d looked magnificent, the afternoon sun had shone behind him and the grey in his hair had nearly glowed from the warm light. Is this that same feeling, only stronger?

“Wife,” Richard said steadily, “answer me.” “No, I-, I cannot,” you whispered, your throat tight. “Do you wish to be alone?” he then asked, dejection hidden in his voice. Did you? Did you want him to leave? “Yes… No…” If you leave now, maybe you’ll leave completely again. I don’t want that… “I shall leave you alone, I will remain in my office,” he said in a cold manner. His voice dark and deep, it sent goosebumps along your skin and the memory of how harshly he’d spoken to you three days ago surfaced. It made you cool slightly, your mind distracted from the images of seeing him in the tub.

His footsteps receded. The sound of the door knob being turned came and your heart jolted. You threw the cover off, your breaths turning rushed, and found his eyes staring at you — no emotions in them. As if he’d turned them off. “Don’t leave me again,” you said. “I took everything down, and I’m so sorry for what I did,” you continued while trying to keep the conflicting emotions and sensations at bay. On one hand, you wished to launch yourself at him and make him take away the ache, on the other you were terrified of the way he looked at you. Blandly. Blankly.

You looked away, not able to hold the connection. Your eyes went to the window, shimmering icicles hung from the roof and the sparkles were beautiful as the sun shone on the clear ice. Perhaps those icicles were to be the only sparkle this Christmas. It tore a sigh from you, a pitiful sound really. Yet, still, you found yourself thinking that if he needed a Christmas that wasn’t all that Christmasy then you’d accept that, and deal with it — for him. Perhaps him saying your name during such a time as in the tub meant there was a chance for more between the two of you.

His rushed footsteps filled the room, and you hadn’t time enough to turn your head before his warm hands cradled your cheeks and stormy eyes of grey held yours unwaveringly. “You… are apologizing, to me?” he asked, a low sound of disbelief. “ I should be the one to ask for your forgiveness, Y/n.” You couldn’t say anything, his eyes held you mesmerized and there was not a single thought in your head beyond wanting to kiss the lips confessing to wanting your forgiveness and lifting the blame from you.

“Wife, sweet wife,” he exhaled in a rush while his thumbs stroked your cheeks. The rainbow-coloured sparkles of the icicles danced around him and all you could do was hold his gaze as your body went taunt and hot from the way he looked at you.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Well, that was a fun fic 🤭 This is really turning into something quite delicious and I do have plans for at least 2 more parts of this story so stay tuned for that in the near future - hopefully not too far off in the future (yes, yes, I'm itching to write more for Turpin - as usual 😂)

Q: What's that one thing that bothers you with the holidays? 👀 A: For me, it's the mania regarding gifts. Like, yes, I love to give and receive gifts but I think there's a bit too much of a buying spree every year rather than an actual thought behind the gifts. I'd rather have one well-thought-out gift than ten random ones 🤷

@mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @daddythanatos @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#I’m not joking when I say a screamed #my phone was abandoned for a second and I had to re read it to believe it #ugh love it #rickmas2023 #rickmas #judge turpin #judge turpin fic #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin x you #alan rickman #rickmaniac

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evans23 · 4 months ago

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Daughter of mine II

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : The great judge Turpin tries to adapt to his new role as a father. Awkward, he doesn't realise that his daughter doesn't find her place in this new world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst I guess. Mention of prostitution and death. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Here the next part of Daughter of mine. Enjoy !

Part I - Part III

Also read on AO3

The first days were awkward, to say the least. Catherine was intimidated by her new surroundings and Turpin didn't know how to be a father. He didn't really try either. He didn't have any good paternal figure when he was a kid, his father being the kind violent. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking it would have been easier if he had been in the child's life from the beginning.

Not only did he have to catch up with six years of his daughter's life, almost seven, which was utterly impossible, but also, he wasn't sure how to impose his authority on his daughter. His daughter... Even this word sounded strange to him.

It had only been two weeks since the girl had moved in with him, in his mansion. The servants were totally enamoured with the child, who was reserved and overly polite. She never asked for anything and ate everything that was served to her, even when it was obvious she didn't like what was on her plate. Fortunately, her governess could read the little girl far more easily than her dad, and each time she noticed an imperceptible grimace of disgust, she warned the cook not to prepare this food for the child anymore.

True to his words, two days after her arrival, Catherine got a tutor. In fact, more than one. One of the teachers had for a mission was to teach her how to write, read, and speak properly, like a well-mannered lady should do. Another one was there to teach her to speak French and Italian and another one to provide some music and drawing skills.

She probably should learn how to dance, sew, and many other things a mother would judge necessary for his daughter to know, but Turpin wasn't a mother, scarcely a father, and those trivial competencies weren't what mattered the most for Turpin. He wanted a well-educated daughter, with knowledge in his head and not just an empty brain as too much lady of his acquaintance. Turpin was a conservator, yes, but he knew how important it was to be able to think by itself, even for a girl, even more for his daughter !

The triviality would be learned later, when he decided it was time to introduce her to the high society, in a timely manner. For the moment, there was no place for any leisure. Anyway, the hectic schedule of Catherine didn't leave any room for that. She had a tiring day like she had never experienced before.

She had to wake up at seven o'clock, half past six sometimes, and be ready with the help of her maid before eight. She had a light breakfast before the start of her courses, which only stopped once at noon to let her the time to have lunch and then at half past four in the afternoon. From half past four to five, she had some time to play on her own but she had to be quite imaginative, for there were no toys for her. Not because Turpin was too stingy but because it hadn't crossed his mind that the girl could need more than pretty dresses and coats.

However, Catherine was so happy with those beautiful clothes that she wore them with unconcealed joy as she had never had new clothes before, even less expensive and elegant dresses like these one but only the old ones of her mother who took up it as best as she could, that she didn't dare ask for more.

In addition, she had three meals a day, water at will, tea in the morning, and even orange juice and snacks during the day if she wished to. But what delighted her the most was the hot cocoa her governess brought her every night before sleep. A beverage her mother couldn't afford at all. Also, and for her biggest relief, she was allowed to keep her candles lit all night to make the terrifying shadows of her past disappear. And she knew how expensive was a candle, her mother told her so each time she asked to keep one alight for the night when she was alone and so afraid.

Unfortunately, despite all the affluence she was surrounded with, she felt alone. Terribly alone. She had no friends, wasn't allowed to go out, except for the backyard of the mansion, but anyway, it was too cold to play outside, but more than everything else, she missed her mom. She was also secretly longing for a father. But Richard didn't seem to appeal to the idea or at least, it was what she thought.

Richard was never home. He left an hour before her waking time and came back far after her bedtime. He worked every day, including on Saturday morning, and during the afternoon, he was locked up in his office. The only room she was forbidden to enter in. Should she have been bolder, she would probably intruded into his sanctuary of peace to have the privilege of his company, but the natural severity emanating from the man was enough to keep her on track.

Sunday was the only day during which she had breakfast with him, but he wasn't very talkative and she didn't know what to say to the man who, inevitably, dismissed her in her room or in the garden with her maid to let her have some clear air while he was, yet again, in his office, working on court cases or attempting some business with The Beadle.

And because she couldn't have a piece of Richard, not necessarily his heart, not even his affection, even though she was in desperate need of a bit of that more than the beautiful dresses and the palatable food, she started to become sad. Sadder than she was when her mom died or when they were living in the paucity on the outskirts of London. Sadder than when she had lost her little cat, dead because he was starving and her mom couldn't buy enough food for the three of them, sadder than when she had been sent to the orphanage.

In fact, she felt deceived by the man she had thought would be more than just his savior. The moment she had understood who he was, she had thought he would be his father, the one she had wished for on every birthday, and also for Christmas. She had begun to feel the need to fill in the hole in her heart with the presence of the man she had dreamt of. Moreover, the death of Elena, her dear mommy, had enlarged that hole, and the instant she had acknowledged Richard for who he was, she had wrongly thought he would embrace his role as a father. How stupid she had been. How a man who had left her mother with a broken heart could have loved her ?

The governess and the maids had already understood what the child was longing for. She needed her father's love to heal. However, Richard wasn't mean on purpose. He just didn't know how to step into the life of the child, how to take up his place as a father. Of course, he knew he just had to be himself, but the truth was that he was afraid to act like his father. Never could he forgive himself if his daughter was as afraid of him as he was of his own father when he was a child and even a young teenager.

He had promised to himself, the day she arrived home, that never ever he would beat her, no matter her wrongdoings. Never she would hear the sound of a whip on her back and even less the feel of it. Nevertheless, he was a firm believer in the fact that a kid needed a sprinkle of authority. Even more than a sprinkle.

Yet, he had to admit that she was easy to manage. She didn't run amok around the house and apparently, she didn't inherit the malicious and devious traits of the Turpin. Also, she never answered back, something Richard had done many times at the same age, which had owed him many slaps in the face. And surprisingly, he found himself wishing she would answer back because it would mean she was talking with him. In his presence, she was always silent and he didn't know if it was because she was impressed by him or just because she didn't adapt well to her new environment, but it was bothering him.

"Sir, may I enquire how is doing the daughter of yours ?" asked The Beadle, that morning in the court office.

Richard looked down at him suspiciously. He didn't appreciate the attention Beadle thought necessary to have towards his daughter. He knew the man too well and didn't have any difficulties to figure out his intentions. He would be cold in his grave before a man like him could consider being betrothed to Catherine. The girl wouldn't have any suitor before her twenty-five. Or before his death. And he was able to defy God's authority on that matter just to be sure she wouldn't fall for a miserable like Beadle. A depraved man like him. In fact, after consideration, a man at all !

He dismissed The Beadle with a frown which said far more than his mouth. For God's sake, he thought, never come the day she would find man interesting. Not that they were all that bad, but Catherine's legacy would be substantial. Indeed, he had already found enough loopholes in the law to prevent his manor and all his wealth from being entailed to a stranger cousin he hadn't met in his life. All he knew about that man was that he was living in Australia with his wife and a son of sixteen named Elliott.

"How is she ?" he asked as usual when he came back from the court to the maid.

"Asleep," answered merely the woman.

She was the oldest maid of the manor, also the one who was able with Richard diplomatically enough to bring him around the right decision.

"Did she eat ?"

If the answer was no, which happened sometimes, he always made sure she had a heavy breakfast in the morning, one she had to eat entirely if she wanted to have a break after her last course of the day. It only happened once that she was deprived of her playtime. Turpin knew it wasn't a solution to punish the girl when she didn't feel like eating, but she was so thin, even after two weeks of the best food that he was afraid to see her fall sick. Eating wasn't a pleasure, it was vital.

"Yes."

The quietness of the maid made him suspicious.

"What's the matter, Anne ?" he asked roughly.

The old woman wasn't impressed at all by the man. She wasn't afraid to stand up to him, even if she had already threatened to fire her or worse, to send her to a colony in the middle of nowhere in the upside-down. Perhaps the fact she had been his governess when she was a child had something to do with it. And even if she was grateful for the man to have hired her after her husband's death when he was still a young man, barely established as a young lawyer thanks to the influence of his family.

"The girl is depressed," she stated frankly.

"Depressed ? We are not depressed at her age. She didn't know anything about the hardness of life," he prompted harshly.

"As you didn't know anything about it at the same age, I guess ?" Anne uttered perfidiously.

The look Richard gave her would have made anyone else shriek with fear, but the woman didn't flinch under his stringent gaze.

"She is not mistreated here," he growled, his tone a dangerous warning.

"No, but she is alone. No friends, no toys, only studying the whole day."

And no father, she added for herself.

"I've no acquaintance with child of her age," stated Turpin, "and for the toy, I'll leave money on the buffet tomorrow morning. Go into town and buy what you think is fit for her."

Anne shook her head with disapprobation.

"What ? Woman, do you want to live on the street ? It's where you would be if it hadn't been for my great kindness," groaned Richard, his patience thinner and thinner at each rolling eyes of the maid.

"The gift would have more valor if it came from her father," she simply pointed out.

Richard, whose eyes were flashing with all his anger, hurried away to lock himself in his bedroom, slamming the door violently to let everybody know how angry he was in the whole house, but more peculiarly Anne, how displeased he was tonight.

The next morning, there was no money on the buffet, which made the maid smile. She was sure her words had reached Richard.

The day seemed to drag on for poor Catherine. She was too distracted to focus on her lesson, which annoyed her teacher who scolded her, promising her to give a report to her father about her bad behaviour. Catherine didn't say anything, even though she found it quite unfair as she just let her mind roam around. It wasn't as if she had disrupted the class by chattering incessantly. Anyway, except for the servants, there was no one to speak with.

The second teacher was far more lenient with her, asking her why she was so lost on him. She shrugged her shoulders, but the man, who had three daughters and eight grandchildren, wasn't dupe. There was a heaviness in the heart of the little girl. He tried to incite her to open up, without success. He didn't insist as he didn't want to frustrate her. He understood that she was like her father : she didn't give her trust easily and the old man wasn't keen to damage the bond he had started to create with her.

At the Court of Justice, Turpin wasn't more focused than his daughter. He had adjourned the Court, even though he had found some pleasure in not temper justice with mercy. Anne's straightforward honesty had kept him up all night. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt the child, yet he knew he would if he was too involved in her life. He hadn't had any good role model and it wasn't as if he wasn't providing the child with everything she needed. But deep down, he knew it wasn't what she really needed. He had been a child too and back in time, he would have traded everything he had, money, wealth, high education, and the best tutors for the love of his parents. Or at least their care.

Her mother didn't have any maternal instinct. She had been married by force to a cruel man. She had given him an heir, then another one, who had died at the age of fifteen. His younger brother, more sensitive, more fragile, had made the terrible choice to stop breathing by hanging himself to the attic load-bearing beam. Richard was already studying in London when it happened. It's the butler who had found his brother and the boy had been buried in the highest discretion. No one knew the truth, except for the Turpin's family. Richard would never forget the belt lashes of his father when he had made him swear to never reveal the real causes of his father's dead. The truth would have disgraced the family.

Catherine deserved better than the heavy Turpin's legacy. She deserved to be happy. And because he had been raised by the worst parents, he could be better. He knew everything he mustn't do. He knew how he could destroy her, therefore he knew how not to.

He left the Court earlier than usual and well-decided to have supper with his daughter. Yet, when he arrived he found the manor too calm, almost as if everybody was already asleep. It was only five, so the venue should have been alive with servants accomplishing their duties, not with the distant cries of a little girl.

Turpin strode up the stairs, worried that something had happened to Catherine when he stumbled upon Anne.

"What's happening here ?" he asked roughly, "while Catherine is crying and where is everybody ?"

"It has been a tough day for the little mistress. Her classes didn't go well. Mister Wosley, her morning teacher had been quite hard with her. He wrote a rapport about her bad behavior, but the governess was with them and she assured me the little girl was quiet as usual, she was just not focusing on her lesson."

"And she's crying for a rapport about her behavior?" asked Turpin bewildered.

"She's afraid you don't want her anymore. The paper is quite severe."

"Because you read it ?" asked Richard, his eyebrows arched, the slightest annoyance on his face.

"No. She did and then she read it to me because she couldn't understand some words. I explained them to her in a more... soft way. I also assure her that you won't send her away because of the angriness of a teacher."

"You did well," said Richard absent-mindedly.

He pretended to go to his office to read the note, but the maid retained him by clearing her throat. He turned around to face her, a questioning look on his features.

"What else ?" he asked, annoyed at his highest.

"This afternoon, she went out with Mister Brandon. He wanted a change of scenery to cheer up Catherine and..."

The maid hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"Anne, I'm tired, my daughter is crying which, I have to admit despite my disgust at doing it, distraught me, and I'm terribly hungry, which only add to my annoyance. If there is more, then speak without any diversion," he chided, his square shoulders and his stern eyes leaving no room for argument.

"Well, they found a strayed kitten and Catherine had brought it back. Mister Brandon didn't see the harm in it. But once he left, Harry, the stableman, told her that you didn't like animals and that you would probably throw the little pet against a wall to kill it if she didn't get rid of it before your return. She and her governess were trying to find an appropriate hideout for the little cat when she heard you arrived. Yet again, we tried with her governess to tell her you wouldn't do that, but she didn't believe us and now she's afraid Harry told you about her new companion while she didn't find anywhere to hide it."

Richard sighed heavily. The weariness and tiredness put a strain on him.

"Thank you for telling me, Anne. Ask the butler to thank Harry with no money and reference. The boy doesn't work in my stable anymore,' and with that being said, and the package in his hands, he headed towards Catherine's room.

The governess froze when, after having closed the door, she turned around, almost bumping into Richard.

"My lord," she said with a curtesy.

"How is she ?" he asked, ignoring her terrifying eyes on him.

"I managed to calm her down, but she is very afraid that you scold her or worse for what Mister Wosley wrote about her. She swears it's not true. And also..."

The woman wasn't sure she should keep quiet. She knew everything she had to about Turpin's bad temper and she had been here for only two weeks, also she didn't know if he could kill or not an innocent kitten.

"What about the cat ?" asked Richard harshly.

If he hadn't been so concerned about the well-being of his child, he would probably have found the expression of the governess hilarious. Her eyes were wide, she was gawking at him.

"Well ?" he insisted, "did you find an appropriate hideout for it ?"

"Indeed," answered the governess with embarrassment.

"Well, let's see if I can find it."

And with that being said, Richard knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for any answer, as he was sure the girl wouldn't have given permission to anyone to come in.

"Catherine," thundered Turpin's voice, making the little girl shiver.

Her sad eyes looked upon his. He opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to utter any words that the little girls rushed into his arms. Flabbergasted, Turpin didn't know what to do and stayed stunned while Catherine flooded his golden waistcoat with her tears.

"Come on, come on, calm down," said Richard softly, "let's sit down, yes ?"

He led her towards the huge bed on which were laying Merlin and many other plush animals.

"There's a whole zoo on your bed. Are you aware of that ?" asked playfully Turpin, hoping to ease a bit of the distress of his daughter.

It seemed to work as she giggled discretely.

"Where do all those animals come from ?" asked curiously Richard.

"The servants," whispered the girl.

Of course, they were all so fond of their little mistress, and apparently, they knew her better than him as everybody but he knew her love for animals, that they had spent some of their pay into expensive kids' stuff.

"Do they all have a name ?"

Catherine nodded, introducing him to each of her unanimated friends with enthusiasm, her previous outburst forgotten. Even though Richard was happy to see the mood of the child liven up, he needed to clear up the events of the day. He cursed himself for bringing up the topic when she started to cry with violent sobbing.

"Hush, hush. I'm not scolding you, am I ?" he said, bothered to not know how to talk without causing anguish to his child.

He, eventually, took his little hand in his, frowning at how thin her little arm was. He could see her bones protruding from her neckline and her shoulders and he was sure that during bath time, her maid could notice the same things with her ribs and knees.

"You're not angry ?" she asked bashfully.

"No," said Richard.

And it was true. He knew quite well the teacher and how harsh he could be with his pupils. Yet, he was one of the best in his profession and Turpin wanted nothing but the cream of the top for her. He would have a word with him tomorrow, asking him to be more indulgent with the girl. He wouldn't have to ask twice for the man restrained his sternness because no one could match up to the anger of The High Judge Turpin. The Death's Judge.

"Yet, I would like to be acquainted with someone else," uttered Richard.

Catherine still, understood he was talking about her cat.

"I put him out," she declared too quickly.

Her alarmed eyes wandered a second too long towards her wardrobe. Richard stood up in a flourish and walked briskly to the piece of furniture.

"NO !" shouted the girl.

"Hush !" prompted Richard.

He sharply opened the door and a little ball of fur ran through the room to find refuge inside a cardboard box that the butler had given to Catherine for her new companion.

"Well, it seems to already feel at home," stated Richard.

"Please, father, do not kill him," begged Catherine, bursting into tears.

Richard felt his blood ran cold through his whole body. It was the first time she had called him father. And if he was honest with himself, it had made his heart beat faster.

"Never would I do something like that, Catherine," he said genuinely concerned she could believe him able to do something like that.

Actually, if Richard was totally honest, he could do that without any qualms to blackmail someone or to torture an enemy. But never would he do that to this girl who had become so precious for him in such a short time. Also, for Richard, animals were the sheerest and most beautiful of God's creation. Nothing to do with the mongrel he had to deal with in his day-to-day life.

"But Harry said..."

"Do not listen to this idiot. Anyway, he doesn't work anymore for us. Rather than being gullible and believing everything everyone's telling you, you should learn to trust me."

She looked down embarrassed but Richard forced her to look at him by lifting her head with the help of one finger under his chin.

"What's the name of this little opportunist ?" he asked, looking with an amused look at the pet tearing apart the old blanket Anne had put into the box.

"Arthur," answered Catherine with a bright smile.

"Arthur ?" questioned Turpin.

"Like the King !"

Obviously. Merlin, Mordred, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan were the names of her plush and now Arthur, thought Richard, suppressing a laugh.

"Well, Arthur is more than welcome in this house. As long as he doesn't dare come through my office and he doesn't scratch the sofas of the parlor."

Catherine nodded vigorously, her smile and the happiness flickering in her eyes a reward for Richard's tortured soul.

"I've also a present for you. I'm sorry it's not another beast for your zoo."

With that, he handed her the box he had put down on the nightstand. Catherine looked at the box with surprise before opening it with the enthusiasm of a child who wasn't used to getting a gift. Inside was laying the most beautiful doll she had ever seen. A porcelain doll with curly brown hair and the same green eyes as hers, like the one she shared with her mother. The doll's dress was made of real cashmere and embroidered with golden threads.

"Are you happy ?" asked Turpin with trepidation as he didn't know how to interpret the child's silence.

"I've never had something as beautiful before," whispered Catherine, not daring to take the doll out of her box, too afraid to damage it.

Richard did it for her, placing the doll among the animals.

"She will soon have her own house. I'm sure Anne and your governess would be more than delighted to help you to install her in her new lodgings. Perhaps you may ask Anne to teach you how to sew so that you could create a whole wardrobe for your doll. I will provide you with all the pieces of furniture you could need for this new entertainment."

The little girl, overwhelmed with joy, didn't know what to say and Richard, as introverted as his daughter on the field of sharing his feelings, told her he would meet her for supper. But while he was ready to leave the room, he heard Catherine's hurried steps running towards him. He didn't have time to turn around when a mass of brown curls threw itself into his arms.

He gently stroked her back with one hand, the other one caressing with as much love as he could dispense her hair. She finally stepped back, diving her green eyes in his hazel one without quivering at the natural toughness his face was constantly bearing.

"Thank you, father," she whispered quietly, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction, afraid to lose the little affection he seemed disposed to give her.

Richard's face softened, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't felt for long. The last time, it was when Elena, his beloved Elena, was in his arms after he had made love to her. Elena had betrayed him when she had left him with no explanation. And now she was no longer of this world. But Catherine, the fruit of their love was there and she wanted nothing more than to love him unconditionally. It was at this moment, when he saw all the gratefulness of his daughter for a mere doll and his permission to let her keep the kitten, that a thought struck him. A man could lose a woman, but never a father could lose his child if he was able to be a good parent for the said child. So, Richard silently swore to himself he would be the best father a girl could hope for. From now on and until death comes to take him away from this world.

"You're welcome, daughter of mine," he said with a smile matching his daughter's one. A Turpin's smile.

#alan rickman x reader #alan rickman #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin #sweeney todd #evans23

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