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igotanidea · 6 months ago

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The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader

A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.

***

“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”

“I’m holding a book…?”

Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.

Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

There were so many dangers on the way after all.

Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)

Speeding carriages.

Stones on which she might trip and fall.

Too much sun.

Too little sun.

And worst of all-

Members of the ton.

It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.

And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.

“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”

“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice

“It’s heavy.”

“It's a 200 page novel…”

“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.

“Anthony…”

“Y/N.”

“I can hold my own book.”

“We got servants for that. In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.

Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.

“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.

Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.

“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.

“Anthony…”

“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“

“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“

“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“

“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”

“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“

At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.

“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”

“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”

“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”

“But-“

“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”

“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.

“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.

And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.

“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.

“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.

“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.

“Depends.” She chuckled

“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.

“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”

Anthony smirked.

“I will do that, even if you say no.”

“Then why the question?”

“Testing your knowledge.”

“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”

“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”

“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.

That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.

And now-

“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”

“Then why are you-?”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.

“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”

Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.

“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”

‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.

“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.

And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony x you #anthony bridgerton fluff

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 8 months ago

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OUUH WHAT ABOUT spencer watching her do her makeup, pick out an outfit, get dolled up to go meet his team

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 498.

a/n: AWW OMG writing this actually gave me cavities. this is probably the fluffiest thing i've ever written on this account!! i really tried to get into the mind of our precious bimbo reader, and i feel like i did a pretty good job if i do say so myself! 😏

You always liked to say that you did your best work under pressure, so why in the hell wasn’t your eyeshadow… eyeshadowing?

You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror, your gloss covered lips turned down into a deep frown. The lines caused by your frustration left behind little creases in your carefully laid foundation. You were one more mishap from a total breakdown.

Tonight was the night that you were going to meet your boyfriend’s team, which in your mind translated to his family. You had met his mom already, and she liked you, so why were you so intimidated? Maybe it was because these people were like your precious boyfriend just twenty times more terrifying.

Tonight had to go well, or you swear that you might just die!

“Spence?” You turn around in your porcelain white chair that completely contrasts the dark coziness that was Spencer’s room.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer responds from behind the book he had his nose buried in. He had been resting against the headboard, the lower half of his body relaxed and his legs were stretched out carelessly. The advantage of being a human string-bean, you supposed.

“Does my makeup look okay?”

Your exasperated tone in your voice forced his eyes away from the page and onto yours.

He was surprised by the light tones of eyeshadow you had picked, they were a lot different from the bold pink, purples, and blues. That could only mean one thing.

“There’s no need to be anxious, honey. You look beautiful.”

Usually, you were very susceptible to Spencer’s praise, often turning bashful and shy, as well as giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl. Nope, not today. Today felt like not even the sweetest of hymns could bring you down from your anxiety ridden stupor.

“Really? Because I don’t know about the color… I feel like the eyeliner makes it look clumpy.”

Spencer Reid was trained for this, if the hours of cosmetology research he had done counted for something. Why you may ask? Well, the first time you had asked him about your makeup was when you two had first started dating, and it had unfortunately gone a little bit like this:

“Does this look okay?”

“It looks fine, angel.”

“Oh God, I should just start over, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Spencer smiles fondly, “It doesn’t look clumpy at all. In fact I think the dark and light colors complement each other well, they make your eyes look large and enchanting.”

And just like that, all of your apprehension melts away. “Oh, good!” You all but cheer.

He watches with a lovesick smile on his face as you pull out outfit-after-outfit from the closet – that’s really more yours than it is his – with an excited grin.

“How about this one?”

Spencer knows he’s in for a long night; with his book long forgotten, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that you have an hour before you guys have to leave.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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bloodyshadow1 · 7 months ago

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look, the thing with Toshiro is that he is not a bad guy, I don't think he would work out with Falin no matter the case, but he's not a bad guy. He is just a guy in a foreign land, and he was sheltered as a rich guys son who has retainers instead of friends, he doesn't know how to act towards people.

He is friends with Laios, yes things in ep 17 came to a boil and Toshiro finally exploded, but that doesn't mean he really hates him. He might not be the best friend Laios imagined him to be, but he doesn't hate the guy despite what he said. Yes, I'm sure he was genuinely bothered by the way Laios acts like the rest of the party, sans Falin, but him exploding at Laios because it's the worst possible time is not the same as him secretly always hating him.

At the time things break bad, had just had a party wipe where not only did they lose to a dragon, the woman he was infatuated with didn't leave with them. He did what he thought was best, get skilled retainers and head back into the dungeon. He has been fighting monsters through the dungeon, not resting, sleeping or eating for days. He finds out the same girl he likes was revived with dark magic, then turned into a Chimera that tears through his retainers, and almost kills them. As he's panicking Laios keeps saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and he finally explodes.

People are not just who they are at their worst moments, just like they're not who they only who they are at the best moments in their life. He's not an asshole for believing Marcille is dangerous because of her using dark magic when he thinks it turned Falin into a chimera and the social norms is dark magic is evil. Especially when Falin became the most powerful monster in the dungeon capable of using magic that slaughtered his retainers and every other adventurer in a few minutes.

*Spoilers for the manga*

When he's had time to think and get some rest and food, Toshiro is on Laios' side, willing to fight elite elven dungeon specialists on his behalf.

Also I know Laios is the fandom's precious little autistic bean, but he isn't guiltless in their relationship. Sure, there was not a malicious bone in Laios' body, but it doesn't change that he saw a foreigner in a bar and blasted him with questions without asking him his name. Yes, Toshiro should have explained, but everyone in the Touden party is neurodivergent, you cannot change my mind. Sometimes it is easier to avoid awkwardness by not correcting people when they get your name wrong. Toshiro didn't think he's be a part of Laios' party for years, he thought it was a meeting with a stranger in a bar, and then he's Shuro for 2 years to everyone in the party and the adventurers community.

People are complicated, and they should be allowed to be. Toshiro might not get a lot of chapters, but it is clear he is not just some asshole who has secretly hated Laios, it's just at the worst moment of his life after a series of terrible weeks things come to a boil. The whole manga/anime has more nuanced characters than any I've read/watched.

#toshiro nakamoto #dungeon meshi #laios touden #dungeon meshi spoilers #falin touden #marcille donato

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animeshotsh · 8 months ago

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Baby baby~ | Original Sins x Kid!Reader + Stolas x Kid!Reader + Octavia x Kid!Reader |

Summary: Lucifer finally gets his close friends to meet you!! Warnings: no one, just FLUFF.

Lucifer wanted you to meet his closest friends and sins, he had planned this day for so long. He invited Charlie and Vaggie of course, but kept Alastor away.

"Only if i get to take (Y/N) out for the next two days"

And he had accepted, wanting nothing more but to kill the sinner.

~☆~☆~☆

The castle was decorated, Lucifer and the rest of you wearing their best clothes. Food was served, drinks were out (no alcohol allowed) and you guiding Charlie to your room to show her your drawings.

"They are amazing (Y/N) but the rest will soon come-"

Charlie could not end her talk as a very distinct voice claimed from other room.

"Now were its your sweet new kid! Im dying to meet them" The big form of Asmodeus said the three faces looking around for you.

The left one noticed you in the corner by the hand of Charlie.

"Oh!! There they are, (Y/N) come and say Hello to Lust!!" Lucifer called you missing your scared look as you slowly approached the big Sin.

Asmodeus went down on his knee bowing to you "Its a pleassure to meet one of our King's kid, im Asmodeus, you must be (Y/N)"

You nodded looking at his 3 faces and soon smiling at them "You got 3 faces!! And you are so tall, can i get that tall too?"

Asmodeus looked over Lucifer asking for permission, once Lucifer noded Asmodeus took you and let you sit on his shoulder.

"This is great!!" You exclaimed

~☆~☆~☆~

After some more minutes you were left down on the floor when a portal opened, a tall owl dressing in a fashion way appear, behind him a smaller one. Stolas soon saw you and (wanting to show off) opened his book, dark sky appear on the ceiling, different constellations left the sky and went towards you, twirling you around and making you laught.

"Oh Stolas its so good to meet you again my friend!!" Lucifer exclaimed quickly going to shake Stolas hand. "Its has been eones indeed" Stolas agreed looking as you played with the constellation of a horse.

"And Octavia! You have grow so much, I remember when you were so tiny" Lucifer added making Octavia blush and nod at the king who then pointed at Charlie and Vaggie who went to his side. "Im not sure if you remember my daughter, but this is Charlie! and her gilrfriend Vaggie".

Charlie gave a kind smile to the goetia bowing respectfully as well towards her and Stolas "Im so glad to be meeting you again"

Soon you came to them, the horse constellation following you. You stood suprised at the tall owl who got down on his knee as well "And this must be the precious (Y/N), you father never stops talking about you" Stolas said then softly pushed Octavia "This is my daughter Octavia"

You took notice of Octavia being a bit uncomfortable under the attention "Hello! im so happy to meet more friends, i like your clothes! Dad can i get dark clothes too?" you asked to quickly switch the attention to him.

"Of course we can, anything for my small bean" Lucifer beamed.

Octavia gave off a small smile as you smiled at her then went to ask her father about his magic.

"Oh then let me start with the basics..."

~☆~☆~☆~

After what felt like hours of stories of magic a new sound was hear.

"Oh finally, she loves making a big scene" Asmodeus said looking over the flying figure surronded by smoke.

Soon the room was being filled up with music and sweet smell. A pair of hands took you and as the smoke went off you could see what you would describe as a big yellow wolf.

"Awww look at you, you look even sweeter up close!!" Bellzebub said pushing your cheeck against hers smiling. "Lucifer, you must take good care of this one or soon they will end up dating"

"NOT ON MY WATCH" Lucifer exclaimed now having an internal crisis.

Beelzebub soon let herself on the floor with you. "Im Beelzebub, but you kind soul can call me Beel"

"You are beautiful" you could only say in response seeing her hair move around with different colors.

"Aww, and i got all of you a gift"

Soon lots of bottles with orange liquid appear.

"Dont worry this ones" she pointed towards some bottles with what it was supposed to be a demon kid "has no alcohol in it"

~☆~☆~☆~

Quick Extras:

You ended up making Octavia share her music with you and her love for taxidermy.

Mammon did come but only because Lucifer forced him, he ended up liking you as you saw him as "a big huggeable clown" and "you smell like money" you did won him over and he promised to bring you something next time.

Five seconds later tons of money appear alongside a plushie of a famous demon called "Fizzarolli".

Everyone tried to prevent you from drinking too much but you ended with too much sugar and ran for the rest of the night.

Stolas gave you a book of basic magic and told you to call him if you need help with anything.

Beel made you promise that once you get older you would go to one of her parties (how no one knows since you are a sinner but anyway).

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #mammon x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader

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jordanli-dribbles · 8 months ago

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Made of Glass

Jordan Li x Fem!Reader | 2.6k words

Prompt #3: You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. Synopsis: They are a supe, you are merely human.

You and Jordan are from entirely different worlds. They are a supe, ranked number two and you are merely a normal human. Currently, a barista working at Jitter Bean on the GodU campus. As you pull shots of espresso and froth milk, you're also juggling your studies at the local normal university. Your days are filled with textbooks and coffee beans, study groups and latte art. This is your world, your routine, and you wouldn't trade it for anything else. You've come to love your life and routine, especially after meeting Jordan.

When you first started dating, you noticed a certain hesitation in their behavior. It seemed as if they were always holding back, afraid of causing you harm. They were exceedingly gentle with you, treating you with a delicacy as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at the slightest mishandling. Their actions and touch were calculated and cautious, reflecting their love for you. Yet, it pained you to see how much thought and effort they put into the smallest things in order to keep you safe.

Every action they took seems to be for your protection. They open doors for you, not merely out of courtesy, but out of a deep-seated need to shield you from the world. They open jars for you, seeing an unnecessary risk in a simple task. They prevent you from doing anything they deem dangerous, their definition of 'danger' being far broader than yours. You weren’t the only human on campus but the few incidence with supe and human have left a sour taste for Jordan. Their overprotectiveness only growing.

If someone hugged you a bit too tightly, they immediately step in, serving as your personal protector, reprimanding the 'offender' for their thoughtlessness. If someone sneezes, they ensure the person stays a safe distance away, as if a mere sneeze could shatter you.

While you love them, their constant vigilance can feel like a cage. Their kindness, while well-intended, begins to blanket you, smothering your independence and creating a sense of claustrophobia. But you see the love in their eyes, a love that is as deep as the ocean, as vast as the sky. It's a love that is genuine and caring, a love that sees you as the most precious thing in the world. Every time they look at you, their eyes hold a promise to protect you, to cherish you.

So, you tolerate their overprotectiveness. You understand where it's coming from. You see the fear ingrained in their actions, the fear of losing you. And maybe, just maybe, you can help them see that you're stronger than they think.

It was just like any other day. You were sitting by the Polarity’s statue waiting for Jordan to finish their office hours scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Suddenly, you saw Andre zoom past you on a flashy new electric scooter at a speed that was definitely unsafe.

"Dude, is that new?" You couldn't help but call out, your smile wide and your curiosity piqued as the scooter gleaming under the sun. Hearing your shout, he quickly turned back around, heading towards where you were now standing. The scooter stopping with a dramatic screech that stirred up dust around your feet.

"Yeah, you like it? It's a new toy from dad," Andre replied, his voice full of pride. He dismounted with a youthful spring in his step, leaving the scooter to stand on its own. It hummed softly, like a futuristic machine out of a sci-fi movie, this wasn’t a standard electric scooter. You found yourself drawn to it, your eyes scanning over its sleek design, the fancy built-in gadgets, and the vibrant neon color that seemed to pulsate with life.

Wandering closer, you circled the scooter, your fingertips hovering just above the surface as if afraid to touch. You were intrigued, the childlike wonder in your eyes evident.

Seeing your interest, Andre offered, "Wanna give it a try?" His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. You looked up at him, a hint of apprehension flickering in your eyes as you glanced from side to side. It was as if you were considering the potential risks and the thrill of the unknown simultaneously.

Andre noticed your hesitation and, with a teasing grin, he nudged you gently. "Oh come on! Live a little. It’s easy, I'll show you how." His words were a challenge, an invitation to step out of your bubble and embrace the adventure.

After reviewing the basics, Andre tilted the scooter towards you, encouraging you to ride. With a big smile, you stepped onto the scooter and took off. Feeling free, you zoomed past dozens of people, the wind blowing on your face, the thrill coursing through your veins. You laughed, feeling giddy like a child with a new toy. The feeling was exhilarating, it felt like what you imagine flying would be like.

You were so engross in the feeling that you didn't notice the curb and both you and the scooter went flying over the hedges. After tumbling and having the wind knocked out of your lungs, the world spun. Your ears were ringing, and you tasted the metallic tang of blood from your split lip. Despite your body aching, you didn't care, you had never felt so free before.

"Oh shit, are you okay?!" A panicked voice rang out. Looking up, you saw Andre. His eyes were wide, his expression frozen in shock as he stared down at you with concern. Yet all you could do was laugh, lying flat on your back on the grass. He couldn’t help but laugh along with you, his expression softening at the sound of your mirth. The two of you were laughing like idiots, as if you hadn’t just been thrown across the campus.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted your laughter. "What the fuck happen?" Jordan demanded, concern etching their voice as they ran towards you. Their eyes darted over your form, quickly assessing the situation and the extent of your injuries.

"Oh, hey baby!" you greeted them cheerfully, managing to sit up on the grass. Your voice held a tone of delight despite the circumstances. "Andre was just teaching me how to use his new scooter, but the asshole forgot to show me how to brake," you explained, playfully squinting your eyes at Andre in mock anger.

Andre, seemingly unfazed by your comment, flashed you a wide grin. “In my defense I thought that was pretty intuitive!” he declared, shaking his head in a gentle, almost playful manner.

"Apparently not, jerk!" you fired back quickly, laughing at your own clumsiness. You struggled to stand upright, wincing slightly as you felt the fresh bruises forming on your skin. Jordan, immediately reached out to lend a hand. Their touch was gentle, and you appreciated their concern, even though you knew it was fueled by their instinct to protect you, anger and worriedness evident in their eyes.

With Jordan's help, you managed to get on your feet. You took a moment to dust yourself off, brushing away the grass and dirt that clung to your outfit. It was a futile attempt, considering how much you had tumbled, but it made you feel somewhat better. You licked your bottom lip, wiping away the blood from the split, wincing a slight from the pain.

Jordan stood by your side, examining the extent of your injuries until your eyes met with Andre's. There was a brief silence. A small smile tugged at your lips until you both burst into laughter, the sound echoing around you.

“You think this is fucking funny!” Jordan yells shifting, stepping towards Andre clearly pissed off that he was the reason you had gotten hurt. Their voice was harsh, the anger radiating from their body. Andre froze, and took an instinctive step back holding their hands up in front of him, attempting to keep things calm.

“Chill man, it was all in good fun. No harm, no foul.” he replied, taking another step to pick up his scooter off the ground, ignoring Jordan’s angry glare.

“No harm?! She’s fucking bleeding asshole!” Jordan yelled taking another step closer to him. They were beyond mad, you could feel the anger emanating from their body. Seeing the situation escalating, you gently grasped Jordan's arm and tugged, attempting to draw their attention away from Andre.

"Hey, babe," you murmured softly, your tone light and gentle. "I'm okay, I promise. It's just some little scratches and bruises, nothing major." you finished, taking a quick glance down at your injuries.

Jordan didn't respond. Instead, their eyes narrowed, the muscles in their jaw tensing as their teeth ground together. Their expression was cold, dark and their posture rigid, the tension palpable in the air. And Andre did not back down, his own stare turning into a glare.

You tightened your grip on Jordan’s arm, tugging them towards you. You really didn’t want this to escalate into something else. You stepped in front of Jordan, grabbing their chin to turn their gaze down towards you. "I'm okay Jordan," you repeated, emphasizing each word.

Finally, their expression softened as their eyes met yours. There was a mixture of emotions in their eyes. Fear, worry, anger, concern. However, their anger swiftly dissipated when they saw your split lip, their concern for you taking over.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," they finally said, their voice quiet as their hand came down to the small of your back. They began leading you away, but not before shooting Andre a final glare. You gave him an apologetic smile before turning around and allowing Jordan to guide you. They led you back to their dorm, their arm still wrapped around you as they guided you. The entire walk was filled with silence, Jordan's body still tense and rigid, the tension still thick in the air.

Now you sat on the bathroom counter as Jordan cleaned your face with a warm towel. They were avoiding your gaze, their expression hard, their brows furrowed and their lips set in a tight line. The air was heavy, the atmosphere suffocating. You hated the awkwardness, and the fact that they were so upset over something that seemed so minuscule to you.

You sighed and grabbed their wrist, stopping their motions, their eyes finally meeting yours. "Are we just not going to talk about it?" you asked, your tone laced with frustration. They let out a sigh and dropped their gaze, placing the warm towel back on your face, focusing on cleaning your wounds instead.

"Jordan," you pressed, placing your hand on their chest. They looked down at you, their expression conflicted, their gaze a mixture of emotions.

"You could've gotten seriously hurt," they whispered softly. You took a deep sigh, closing your eyes before looking at them. You had been dreading this conversation, but now was a good time of any. You desperately needed to get it off your chest, before you truly suffocated.

“Jordan,” you start softly again, making sure they are looking at you before you continue. “I love you more than words can express, but sometimes you treat me like I am made out of glass. Like any sudden movement might cause me break. You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. But baby, I am human. We get hurt, we bruise, we bleed, and we get back up. Please trust me. Trust that I can take care of myself. That I won't fall apart."

You watched their face fall as you spoke, a mix of hurt and fear clouding their expression. "I know you can take care of myself," they whispered, their tone low, barely audible. "But what if one day you can't? What if one day I'm not around, and you end up hurt or worse?" they continued, their voice cracking, their eyes beginning to glisten. You sighed, and gently place your hand on their cheek, their eyes meeting yours.

"You can't keep me in a bubble, Jordan," you say gently. After a pause, you continue, "I don't need you to protect me from getting hurt. I need you to be there to help me get back up. To support me when I take risks, even if I might fail. I'm not a fragile doll that's going to shatter with a simple breeze. I'm not a damsel who needs constant saving. What I need is for you to believe in me, to trust me to know my own limitations.”

They were silent, their expression conflicted, their emotions heighten. After a long pause, they finally responded, their voice cracking. "I'm scared," they whispered, the admission almost inaudible. They leaned into your touch, their eyes closing, their expression vulnerable.

"I'm scared that I'll lose you. I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone, and it'll be all my fault because I wasn’t there to protect you," they continued, their voice trembling. "I can't lose you."

You felt a pang of guilt for not considering how difficult this must be for them too. This was all new, and their protective instincts were only amplified by the newness. You drew them close, your arms encircling their neck, holding them against you. "You're not going to lose me, Jordan. I'm right here baby, just a little bruised," you tried joked, with a small smile, while tracing gentle pattens behind their neck.

You heard their breathing slow down, and their body relaxed. Their arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly, and they rested their head on your shoulder. You both stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," they mumbled into your shoulder, their voice barely audible. You shook your head slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of their head, squeezing their shoulders gently.

"I know, baby" you said softly, rubbing their back in soothing circles, "And I love how you take care of me, but I just need you to ease up a little."

Their grip on your waist tightened, their arms wrapping tighter around you. "Okay," they replied, their voice a soft whisper. As they pull back, their gaze was tender, their eyes soft. You couldn't help but smile and press a soft kiss to their lips, the gesture a reassurance that everything was okay. They look at you for a moment before speaking, their voice soft and laced with sincerity. "I promise I'll try my best to be less overprotective." They said their thumb softly brushing over your bruise lip.

"Good, because I really want to use that scooter again," you said with a playful grin. They let out a light chuckle the stress melting away from their body, slowly rolling their eyes at your comment. A gentle smile spreading across their lips as they leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"We'll see about that," they replied. You couldn't help but laugh, at least they were trying. You knew it would take time, their overprotectiveness would not disappear overnight, but at least they were willing to try. And despite their overprotectiveness, they always made you feel safe, secure and most of all, loved. For in love, as in life, sometimes it's the cracks on your skin that allow the light to shine through.

This was based on this prompt list which inspired this new wave of inspiration. This also got way longer than I intended.

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #jordan li x you

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princeblue · 8 months ago

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Sometimes I think about how the fandom has this perception of Giyuu as someone who is mercilessly bullied by the Hashira and can’t defend himself when that is literally not true, like. Giyuu continuously digs a hole for himself when he is around them, he uses these words like “im not like you guys” after he decides he’s going to walk out of the Hashira meeting because he thinks he can’t unlock the demon slayer mark.

And who wouldn’t look at Giyuu, a stoic man who hardly interacts with the other Hashira and uses words in a monotone voice saying he’s different from everyone else and not think “this guy thinks he’s above us” which is literally what Sanemi thinks when he sees Giyuu and Giyuu’s behavior.

Sanemi grew up a poor child in a poor town with people who did look down on him for his very existence, why would he not challenge and provoke someone who, in sanemi’s eyes, is saying he’s better/different than everyone else without no real proof?

And again, Giyuu is given two opportunities to explain himself, to actually say what he thinks about himself and his status of a Hashira. But he does not, and when he’s given the second opportunity (sanemi asking him “what do you mean by that”) he instead brushes off his fellow Hashira and continues to walk away, once again affirming this ideal of a person who thinks himself higher above the others.

At most the majority of the Hashira think of Giyuu with either curiosity or nothing at all, Sanemi and Obanai are the only ones who really don’t like him and voice their opinions on him which is always with contempt and Shinobu is the only one who is generally kind to him because she wants to be, and even then she has her moments of frustration and cruelty (“nobody likes you” in the mountains) which is what I assume is from how Giyuu holds himself and possibly her having the same ideal as Sanemi/Obanai but because of the persona she’s garnered for herself she’s not outright cruel and merely more passive aggressive but again, also curious. Which is where their friendship is sparked.

And this isn’t to say that Giyuu should spill his hearts and guts out to the Hashira, he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to. Depression affects people in many ways and there’s no denying he’s someone with an extreme amount of self hatred and depression, but he’s also a Hashira who held his own against an Akaza who was legitimately trying to harm him and unlocked his demon slayer mark, he is capable of defending himself, he is capable of saying “shut the fuck up.” When someone says something about him that is meant to harm his feelings, he’s not some uwu precious bean and if Giyuu had expanded what he meant, “im not like you guys, im weaker.” The Hashira; specifically Obanai and Sanemi, would have regarded him differently and might not have been as cruel.

All in all, it’s very justifiable that Obanai and Sanemi held contempt for him, again Giyuu only continued to make himself look worse in their eyes, but he’s not mercilessly bullied by everyone he comes into contact with, because while we’re at it he’s also a snarky asshole (“why don’t you go train more” when he ties up Inosuke, calling sanemi a simpleton when he says he can’t wait to unlock the demon slayer mark, calling Tanjirou weak/stupid when he’s a traumatized child who just saw his entire family dead and now this strange man is trying to kill his sister)

And it really really fucking bothers me when people hate on Sanemi and Obanai for this, Obanai is a little bit more harder to dive into for me personally, but I feel like his dislike is garnered by being a supposed special person above others and it only brought him pain and death. To him there’s nothing special about being special so why would he like someone who “claims” they are?

Again this isn’t to say that Giyuu owes everyone an explanation, but he’s not owed any kindness or comradeship when he appears as someone who is indifferent or views themselves as simply being higher than others.

#demon slayer #kny #blue rambles #sanemi shinazugawa #giyuu tomioka #shinobu Kochou #Obanai Iguro

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clockwaysarts · 1 year ago

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@mokulule and I randomly brainstormed an dp x dc au where Danny adopts a dying Damian clone he finds. Between the ectoplasm and Danny's care, the clone de-brainwashes himself and becomes a full person. So today when I was up I had to draw our boy!

Meet Cosmas! He's a precious bean who loves his father very much and is maybe a bit too nervous about things.

#doodle #dp x dc #clockfa #cosmas the clone

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muiitoloko · 8 months ago

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Your sentence

Summary: Turpin and his wife deal with their pregnancy, and have some quality time together, before he pronounces her sentence.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnant sex, smut, nausea and self-criticism.

Author's Notes: Greetings, esteemed audience! Welcome back to the latest escapades of Turpin and his bun-in-the-oven wife. Believe it or not, I actually managed to pen this chapter in the ungodly hours of dawn, and wait for it... I even gave it a makeover! *Busts out into an impromptu victory dance* Now, here's the million-dollar question: Is Turpin still recognizable, or have I accidentally turned him into a unicorn-loving, tea-sipping ninja? Your feedback is as precious as gold, so spill the beans.

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth part here.

As you sat in the bathtub, the warm water soothing your tired muscles, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relaxation wash over you. The maid's gentle ministrations as she rubbed your back only added to the blissful sensation, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully indulge in the moment.

However, your peaceful reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and you tensed as you heard Turpin's stoic voice. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there, his expression impassive as he observed the scene before him.

"Taking quite a long time with your bath, aren't you?" he remarked, his tone cool and detached.

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, knowing that you had been indulging in the luxury of the bath for longer than usual. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, quickly attempting to apologize. "I'll be finished soon, I promise."

But Turpin ignored your apology, waving the maid to leave. The maid quickly excused herself and left the room, leaving you alone with your husband. His intense gaze bore into you, and you felt yourself becoming nervous under his scrutiny. Instinctively, you wanted to hide from him, but you knew that Turpin didn't like it when you hid.

As he walked closer, you couldn't help but notice the slight limp in his step, a reminder of the pain he was still experiencing from the previous night. You bit your lip, feeling a surge of guilt at the sight of his discomfort.

"What are you doing?" you asked, unable to stop yourself from voicing your curiosity as Turpin began to undress.

Turpin sighed lightly, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Taking a shower," he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It'll be quicker if we both shower together."

You blinked in surprise at his suggestion, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. "Oh," you mumbled, feeling foolish for not realizing his intentions sooner.

Turpin chuckled softly at your reaction, though there was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. "You always did have a knack for asking obvious questions," he teased gently, his voice lacking its usual edge of cruelty.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at Turpin's lighter demeanor. As he finished undressing, revealing his half-hard cock, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect of showering together.

Turpin noticed your hesitation and stepped closer, his gaze softening as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle and caring. "I know things have been difficult between us, but I want you to know that I'm trying. I really am."

Touched by his sincerity, you leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through your chest. "I know, Richard," you replied softly, meeting his gaze with an earnest expression. "And I appreciate it more than you know."

With a small smile, Turpin settled into the bathtub across from you and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that the tub was spacious enough for both of you. The warm water enveloped you both, soothing away the tensions of the day and allowing you to relax in each other's company.

"Is your hip still bothering you?" you asked softly, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to gently touch Turpin's thigh.

Turpin nodded slightly, his expression thoughtful. "A little," he admitted reluctantly. "But it's much better after the healing ointment. Thank you for that."

You smiled warmly at his gratitude, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having been able to provide him with some measure of relief. As Turpin leaned back in the bathtub, he motioned for you to come closer, his gaze softening as he met your eyes.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice gentle and inviting. "I want you to bathe me."

Your heart fluttered at his request, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Swallowing back your apprehension, you obeyed, getting on your knees in the bathtub and inching closer to Turpin until you were within arm's reach.

As you reached out to cup water in your hands and pour it over Turpin's chest, you couldn't help but notice the gray strands mingling with the black hair that covered his chest. Despite his imposing demeanor, there was a vulnerability in the way he allowed you to care for him, a vulnerability that touched something deep within you.

Turpin watched you intently as you bathed him, his gaze lingering on your breasts, which seemed fuller today than they had yesterday. A flicker of desire flashed in his eyes, and you felt a flush of heat spreading across your cheeks at the realization that he was observing you so closely.

With steady hands, you continued to bathe Turpin, washing away the day's grime and tension as you worked. His skin was warm and smooth beneath your touch, a stark contrast to the rough exterior he often presented to the world.

As you reached up to wash his face, Turpin leaned into your touch, his eyes closing in contentment. You couldn't help but marvel at the intimacy of the moment, the simple act of caring for each other forging a connection between you that felt stronger than any words could convey.

However, your peaceful moment was shattered when you suddenly felt something warm trickling down your chest. Startled, you looked down, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realized that you were leaking breast milk again. Gasping at the unexpected sensation, you quickly withdrew your hands from Turpin's body, feeling a surge of embarrassment washing over you.

Turpin, noticing your sudden movement, opened his eyes to look at you, his expression shifting from relaxation to curiosity. His gaze fell upon your leaking breasts, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features before a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was almost as if he found the sight of you leaking milk to be divine, stirring something primal within him.

As you attempted to excuse yourself from the bathtub, flustered and embarrassed by the situation, Turpin reached out to stop you, his voice low and commanding. "No," he insisted, his tone firm. "Stay."

You hesitated, unsure of what to do, but Turpin's unwavering gaze held you in place. With a reluctant sigh, you acquiesced, settling back into the warm water as Turpin's eyes lingered on your leaking breasts.

Feeling self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, you tried to divert his attention away from your embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Richard," you stammered, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I don't know why this keeps happening."

Turpin's expression softened as he reached out to gently caress your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his usual demeanor. "There's nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, his voice soothing. "It's a natural part of pregnancy and childbirth. Besides, I find it... intriguing."

You blinked in surprise at his admission, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected reaction. Turpin, noticing your uncertainty, leaned in closer, his gaze darkening with desire as he reached out to cup your leaking breast in his hand.

The sensation of his touch sent a shiver of arousal coursing through you, and you couldn't help but gasp at the intimate contact. Turpin's eyes gleamed with hunger as he watched the milk dribble from your nipple, his own arousal evident as his gaze flickered down to the growing bulge between his legs.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Turpin leaned forward, his lips capturing your leaking nipple in a hungry kiss. You gasped at the sudden contact, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body as Turpin began to suckle greedily at your breast.

His rough, yet surprisingly skilled ministrations left you breathless, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as you arched your back, offering yourself up to him completely. Turpin groaned around your nipple, his own arousal evident as his cock throbbed against your thigh, desperate for release.

As Turpin continued to suckle at your breast, his movements growing more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The combination of his touch and the warmth of the water surrounding you sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, threatening to consume you entirely.

With a primal growl, Turpin released your nipple from his mouth, his eyes dark with desire as he met your gaze. "I need you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with raw need. "Now."

You nodded eagerly, your own desire burning hot and fierce within you as you reached out to guide Turpin's throbbing cock towards your aching core. With a shared gasp of pleasure, he entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely as he claimed you as his own.

The sensation of being joined with him in such an intimate way was overwhelming, and you cried out in ecstasy as he began to move within you, his movements strong and sure as he drove you both towards the edge of oblivion.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, you began to move with him, your hips rising and falling in rhythm with his thrusts. Each movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge of blissful release.

Turpin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he continued to suckle at your breast, his other hand trailing teasingly down your spine. You gasped at the intimate contact, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter and brighter with each passing moment.

You continued bouncing on your husband's cock, enjoying the wave of pleasure building inside you, as Turpin released your nipple and buried his nose between your breasts, inhaling deeply as if he was trying to imprint your scent into his memory. The sensation sent shivers of pleasure throughout your body, and you couldn't help but whimper in response, desperate for more of his touch.

Turpin held your hips tightly, his movements growing slower and more deliberate as he fought to prolong the exquisite torture of your shared pleasure. He knew he couldn't last much longer at his age, and he was determined to savor every moment of your intimacy together.

You whimpered in frustration, craving the release that seemed just out of reach. But Turpin held you firmly in place, his grip unyielding as he slowed his movements to a tantalizing pace. The ache between your legs grew more intense with each passing second, driving you to the brink of madness as you begged for mercy.

As you felt the familiar coil of pleasure building within you, you couldn't help but plead with Turpin, desperate for him not to deny you your orgasm once again. "Please, Richard," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Don't stop. I need to cum. Please."

Turpin's expression softened slightly at your plea, his baritone voice low and husky as he complied with your request. Without a word, he pressed his thumb against your swollen clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as he continued to thrust into you.

The sensation was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With each stroke of Turpin's thumb, you felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, driving you closer and closer to the brink of release.

And then, finally, it happened. With a shuddering gasp, you felt the wave of orgasm wash over you, your entire body convulsing with pleasure as you clung to Turpin desperately. He watched you intently, his gaze filled with satisfaction as he held you close, reveling in the sight of your surrender.

As you collapsed against him, panting and exhausted from the intensity of your climax, Turpin waited patiently for you to catch your breath. With a gentle hand, he encouraged you to climb out of him, and you did so reluctantly, watching him curiously as he stood up from the tub, you standing up as well, confused.

But before you could react, Turpin grabbed your shoulder and pushed you down, forcing you to your knees. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, a mixture of apprehension and arousal coursing through you. Turpin instructed you to keep your breasts together, his voice low and commanding as he expressed his desire to cum on them.

You obeyed without hesitation, though a part of you found the request to be somewhat dirty. But Turpin seemed to revel in the idea, his eyes dark with desire as he grabbed his penis with his fist and began to touch himself.

The sight of your pregnant wife on her knees in front of him, holding her beautiful breasts together for him, was enough to send Turpin over the edge. With a primal growl, he released himself, his hot seed spurting out in thick, white ribbons as it landed on your waiting chest.

You gasped at the sensation, feeling the warm liquid coating your skin as Turpin continued to stroke himself, milking every last drop of pleasure from his release. He watched you intently, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you covered in his cum.

As the last of his orgasm faded, Turpin finally released his grip on his cock, letting it fall limp against his thigh. With a satisfied sigh, he reached out to help you out of the tub, his touch surprisingly gentle as he guided you to your feet.

Despite the lingering sense of dirtiness that lingered in the air, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having pleased Turpin. And as you stood there, chest heaving and skin glistening with his cum, you couldn't help but wonder what other pleasures lay in store for you both.

Days later, the atmosphere between you and Turpin remained charged with tension, yet there was a subtle shift in his demeanor towards you. While he still maintained his authoritarian and cruel facade, there were moments of unexpected kindness and gentleness that he reserved exclusively for you.

Today was one of those rare days when Turpin seemed determined to be good to you, despite his usual impatience and short temper. You were feeling particularly unwell due to the pregnancy, the mere smell of food making you nauseous, and your emotions were on edge, causing you to cry at the slightest provocation.

And Turpin had been surprisingly patient with your mood swings, but as the day wore on, even his patience began to wear thin. The sound of your constant crying grated on his nerves, testing the limits of his resolve to be kind to you.

That night, as you sat in the opulent dining room of your mansion, eating the food with little appetite, Turpin's patience was finally reaching its limit. He listened impatiently as you sobbed uncontrollably, your tears flowing freely as you lamented feeling fat and unattractive.

Despite his efforts to remain calm, Turpin couldn't help but feel frustrated by your outburst. He had tried his best to be understanding and supportive, but your constant emotional turmoil was starting to fray the last of his patience. But Turpin controlled himself not to say anything, his jaw clenched as he continued eating. His patience had worn thin, worn threadbare by the relentless stream of tears and self-deprecating remarks that seemed to flow endlessly from you. Every sob felt like a dagger to his already frayed nerves, but he held his tongue, unwilling to lash out in anger.

But later, when the two of you retreated to the privacy of your bedroom, your tears continued to flow unabated. You sat on the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking with each sob as you lamented feeling fat and unattractive. The weight of your pregnancy seemed to hang heavily on you, and Turpin could see the toll it was taking on your self-esteem.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Turpin rose from his seat on the bed, his expression dark and brooding. He crossed the room with purposeful strides, his baritone voice low and menacing as he approached you.

With a firm hand, Turpin pulled you out of bed and forced you to look in the mirror, your head throbbing from the strength of his grip on your hair. As you whimpered in pain, your eyes met his in the reflection, searching for some semblance of mercy in his dark, brooding gaze.

"You are mine," Turpin growled, his voice a low rumble of suppressed anger. "And no one insults something that is mine. Do you fucking understand? I'm tired of hearing your damn cries!"

You nodded meekly, unable to muster the courage to speak as Turpin's harsh words echoed in your ears. His cruelty was a reminder of the power he held over you, a power that both terrified and fascinated you in equal measure.

But then, to your surprise, Turpin's demeanor softened slightly as he released his grip on your hair, his hand moving to cup your chin. Through the mirror, you met his gaze, confusion and apprehension swirling in your eyes.

Instead of berating you further, Turpin spoke with unexpected tenderness. "Look at yourself," he instructed, his voice gentle yet firm. "You're not fat. You're pregnant, carrying my child. You should be proud, not criticizing yourself."

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, your eyes misting with unshed tears at his unexpected kindness. Turpin's words struck a chord deep within you, reminding you of the precious life growing inside you and the love you shared with him, despite the complexities of your relationship.

Turpin's hand lingered on your chin, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as he continued to speak. "You look beautiful pregnant," he murmured, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. "You don't know how much it turns me on. You drive me crazy, damn woman."

A blush spread across your cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal flooding through you. Turpin's desire for you was both thrilling and intimidating, awakening a hunger within you that you didn't fully understand.

Before you could stop yourself, you hesitated, biting your lip nervously before voicing a hesitant request. "Richard," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Could... could you... fuck me in front of this mirror?"

Turpin's eyes darkened with desire at your request, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You want to see yourself, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky with anticipation. "Well, who am I to refuse such a request?"

With that, Turpin moved away from you and began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched you through the mirror. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, the sight of his muscular frame and thick, gray-streaked chest hair sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

Emboldened by his response, you obeyed his unspoken command and began to undress as well, your hands trembling slightly as you shed your clothes. Turpin watched you intently, his gaze filled with hunger as he waited for you to join him.

When you were both naked, Turpin caught you from behind in front of the full-length mirror, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he positioned you to his liking. You held onto the frame of the mirror for support, your heart racing with anticipation as you prepared yourself for penetration.

But Turpin surprised you, dropping to his knees behind you and burying his face between your thighs. You leaned forward, gasping in surprise as his tongue delved between your thighs, exploring your folds with fervent determination. Your grip on the mirror frame tightened as waves of pleasure washed over you, your moans echoing in the spacious room.

Turpin's hands spread your ass cheeks apart, granting him better access to your dripping slit. His tongue worked wonders, licking and kissing every inch of your sensitive flesh, coaxing delicious sounds of pleasure from your lips. You couldn't help but arch your back, pushing your hips back against him, craving more of his tantalizing touch.

"R-richard," you moaned his name, the sound coming out as a breathless plea for more. His response was a deep growl of approval, his ministrations growing more fervent as he teased and taunted your throbbing clit.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through your veins. But Turpin's voice cut through the haze of pleasure, commanding you to keep your eyes open if you wanted to see yourself.

With a gasp, you obeyed his directive, forcing your eyes open to gaze upon your reflection in the mirror. The sight of yourself, flushed and panting with desire, only served to heighten the intensity of the moment, sending a shiver of arousal coursing through you.

Turpin stood up behind you, his erect penis glistening with your juices as he spread them along his length. He commented on how hard you made him, his voice thick with desire as he confessed the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind.

"You torment me, you know," he murmured huskily, his breath hot against your ear. "Every moment I spend with you, I ache to possess you completely. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to walk around with an erection, knowing that you're the cause of it?"

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within your core. Turpin's desire for you was intoxicating, drawing you further into the depths of passion with each passing moment.

With a primal growl, Turpin positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he prepared to claim you as his own. You braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pleasure, knowing that with Turpin, there was no escaping the overwhelming intensity of his desire.

Turpin entered you slowly, his thick, hard cock sliding into your wetness with deliberate intent. You moaned softly at the sensation of being filled by him, your walls clenching around him eagerly. But when Turpin noticed your eyes closed, he reached out and tugged on your hair, pulling you back with a growl.

"Keep your eyes in the mirror," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "I want you to watch as I fuck you, every thrust, every moan."

You whimpered at his words, a shiver of arousal coursing through you as Turpin used your hair as leverage, pulling you against his cock. "Yes, Judge Turpin," you gasped, your voice filled with need. "I'll keep my eyes on you, Your Honor."

Turpin's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he began to pound into you with increasing intensity. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"You're so beautiful," Turpin murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Absolutely beautiful. How could you ever think you were anything less than that?"

You moaned at his words, the sensation of his cock filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Turpin's hands roamed over your body possessively, tracing the curves of your hips and waist as he claimed you as his own.

With each thrust, Turpin's cock hit that sweet spot deep within you, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You couldn't help but moan his name, the sound filling the room as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure he provided.

"Judge Turpin," you cried out, your voice filled with longing. "Your Honor, please... fuck me harder."

Turpin's growl of approval echoed in the room as he complied with your request, his thrusts becoming even more intense as he pounded into you relentlessly. You lost yourself in the rhythm of his movements, the pleasure building within you until you felt like you were on the brink of madness.

As Turpin's cock continued to pound into you, you felt the coil of pleasure tightening within you, threatening to consume you entirely. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing as he released himself in a powerful climax.

You cried out in ecstasy as you felt his hot seed spilling inside you, filling you with a sense of completion and satisfaction. Turpin held you tightly against him, his grip unyielding as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging the exquisite torture of your shared pleasure.

"Your Honor," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm yours, completely yours."

Turpin's only response was a satisfied growl as he continued to claim you as his own, each thrust driving you both further into the depths of passion and desire. In that moment, you knew that despite the complexities of your relationship, there was a connection between you and Turpin that transcended everything else.

As Turpin calmed himself inside you, his movements slowing and becoming more tender, he reached down to rub your clit gently, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips. You arched your back, pressing closer to him as he watched your expression of pure ecstasy through the mirror, his eyes filled with admiration and desire.

"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful," Turpin murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection as he held you close. With one hand supporting your belly where the baby was growing, he continued to soothe you through your orgasm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

In that moment, Turpin couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt wash over him. He knew he didn't deserve you, didn't deserve the love and devotion you showed him every day. But he was selfish, a bastard who couldn't bear the thought of being without you. You were his, his beautiful and incomparable woman, who saw past his flaws and loved him despite everything.

As Turpin led you to the bed, laying you down gently before retrieving a damp cloth from the suite bathroom, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight of you. You sighed happily as he cleaned you, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you gazed up at him.

Once you were cleaned, Turpin set the cloth aside and went to the front of the wardrobe, intending to change into his sleeping pajamas. But as he glanced inside, his eyes fell upon his judge's wig, neatly arranged on the shelf. A smile tugged at his lips as he reached for it, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Returning to the bed, Turpin ordered you to sit down, and you obeyed without question. With a playful laugh, he placed the judge's wig on your head, watching with amusement as it practically swallowed you whole. You looked ridiculous in his judge wig, and you couldn't help but laugh too as you caught sight of yourself in the full-length mirror.

"It suits you, my dear," Turpin chuckled, his voice filled with warmth as he watched you. "Though perhaps a bit too big for your head."

You were surprised that he put the wig on you, when some time ago he scolded you for wearing the wig that he said was not a toy, but you ignored that, knowing that your husband was complicated and unpredictable, changing his mind and mood quickly.

Turpin leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he spoke. "Perhaps we should keep this little game between ourselves," he suggested, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I wouldn't want anyone else to see my esteemed judge looking so... absurd."

You couldn't help but play along, adopting a stern expression as you tried to imitate his husky voice. "Richard William Turpin," you proclaimed, your voice low and authoritative, "you are hereby sentenced to spend the rest of your days locked up."

Turpin raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, his lips twitching with amusement. "And what are the charges against me, Your Honor?" he inquired, his tone dripping with feigned innocence.

You poked his chest with your finger, trying to maintain your composure despite the playful glint in his eyes. "Your crimes," you declared, "are of causing sinful pleasures in maidens, seducing innocent maidens with your perverse charms."

Turpin's lips curved into a smirk at your words, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And what is my punishment, Judge?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"You will spend the rest of your life locked in with me," you replied, trying to sound stern despite the laughter bubbling up inside you. "That is your sentence."

Turpin's smirk widened into a grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I must say, Your Honor," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "that sounds like a punishment I could learn to enjoy."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, the tension of earlier melting away as you enjoyed the playful banter with your husband. With a playful glint in your eye, you reached up and removed the judge's wig from your head, placing it on Turpin's instead.

"Your turn," you challenged him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Let's see if you can do better."

Turpin straightened up, adjusting the wig on his head with a smirk. As he adopted a more serious expression, his voice took on a low, authoritative tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"In the case of Mrs. Turpin," he began, his voice filled with gravitas, "I find you guilty of stealing my heart and disrupting the peace of my mind."

You couldn't help but hold your breath as Turpin continued, his voice unwavering as he delivered your sentence. "Your punishment, my dear, is to serve me for the rest of your life. You will keep me satisfied, attend to my every need, and be by my side until the end of time. You are stuck with me forever, even when I draw my last breath. You shall not have another man in your life; you are mine, and you will always be, just like I am yours."

You were taken aback by the intensity with which Turpin spoke, the gravity of his words sinking in as you realized the depth of his desire and possessiveness. Instinctively, you reached out and cupped his cheek, searching his eyes for some semblance of understanding.

"Richard," you murmured softly, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "Do you truly mean what you say? Do you truly believe that I belong to you, and you to me? Are you my Richard?"

Turpin's expression softened at your touch, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of cruelty he often wore. He leaned into your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm as he spoke.

"Yes, my dear," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere. "I am already yours. I was sentenced as yours the moment I saw you for the first time. You captured my heart, and I have been yours ever since."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion at his confession, the realization that despite his flaws and shortcomings, Turpin truly cared for you in his own twisted way. As he leaned in to kiss you, you melted into his embrace, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

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

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