#the devil's advocate imagine

[lilithlinen]

Masterlist

JOHN WICK

Playing His Game

A Dance With Destiny

A Dance With Destiny II

Wounds Of The Past

After The Heat

JOHN CONSTANTINE

Your Little Time

Blissful

Till Death Do Us Apart I

Till Death Do Us Apart II

KEVIN LOMAX

Cheater

Pregnancy Cravings

Turning Tables

Turning Tables II

Turning Tables III

Turning Tables IIII

Turning Tables IIIII

Johnny Utah

An Evening to Remember

Tommy Wernicke

Special

Prom

Prom 2

Keanu Reeves

Too Old, Huh?

Challenge Accepted

Cariño

Tex Johnson

"Daddy"

Jack Traven

Morning Crush

Suave

Doctor’s Visit

Shane Falco

Second Chance Romance

[97keanu]

Kevin Lomax x wife!reader NSFW Imagines:

Tags: VERY nsfw, canon style Kevin, mentions of breeding, mentions of corruption kink, back scratching, aggressive, primal style, aftercare described, public foreplay

If there's one thing Kevin loves about you it's not your body for how it looks(of course he loves that too), but for how much you react from even the slightest touch

You two will be out somewhere public, say an important party with his coworkers and he will be trying to turn you on all night

It starts with the looks from across the room. You'll see him there talking to someone, and you're conversing with a few other wives when you can feel his gaze burning into you, and when your eyes meet, oh god...you know that look and you know you're in for a hell of a night

Eventually, Kevin makes his way back over to you, and he begins by resting his hand on the small of your back, innocent right?

Soon enough he's playing an evil game of how low can he go before you give him that look that says "I swear to god, Kevin Lomax..." And he pulls back up

Both of you know you wouldn't actually do anything if he just grabbed your ass right here in front of everyone, but that's apart of the game.

You can feel him playing with the zipper of your dress, slightly unzipping it, so slowly, until you grab his thigh and silently tell him to stop.

After he can tell you're at your wits end, he excuses the two of you, and soon enough its you who's pulling him by his tie to the elevator to get out of here.

He has your panties off in a matter of seconds in the elevator, and he grabs them up, giving them a good sniff before grabbing you and getting his hands to where it feels good under your dress.

You're moaning out, pressed up against the elevator and thanking god you're on the 32nd floor, so much more time for Kevin to play with your soaking pussy while claiming your tongue from inside your mouth

He gives you kisses and bites anywhere skin is showing right now. He's biting your lower lip, he's sucking and kissing up your neck before sinking his teeth in.

All while his purposeful fingers play with your clit and the elevator keeps going down and down....

You can see as the floors pass, and you have to pull Kevin off you in the last few floors before the doors open up to people waiting to get in.

You have no idea if they can tell, if they can see your clothes are scrunched, your lipstick is a bit smudged and Kevin's hair is wild from where you had your claws in it.

You also don't care, you're pulling Kevin into a cab and on the way home he's discreetly rubbing the inside of your thigh getting higher and higher....

The ride can't go fast enough

By the time you're making it to your apartment, its your turn in the elevator.

You press Kevin into the wall and unzip the pants of his suit, pulling his hard cock out, and quickly getting on your knees to take him in your mouth.

Kevin loves how much he's corrupted you, his sweet and innocent wife. His gorgeous and shy wife he shows off to the party, who is now on her knees giving him the best head of his life, he can barely believe how lucky he is to have you.

You both own the top floor of the penthouse suit, so when you get off the elevator, Kevin doesn't even put his cock away, just pulls you up, kisses you and tastes himself on your lips with a satisfactory grin, getting you inside the door of the apartment.

He doesn't even wait to find a couch or a bed, as soon as that doors closed he's pulling off his suit down to nothing and you're struggling to unzip your dress before he comes to help you

The whole time he's telling you every dirty thing he's going to do to you. Ex "Darlin', I'm going to fuck you right into the floor of this apartment" or "I want the neighbors to hear you scream my name tonight, baby....can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

He loves requesting dirty stuff from you, its his way of making sure you're okay with his requests while also keeping the mood.

After he helps you slip out of the dress, he pulls it down, taking himself with it, getting right between your thighs, where he loves to be. He opens you up, pushing your back against one of the apartments walls, one of your legs resting on his shoulder, where he kisses up from your toes all the way to your pussy before diving in

He loves the taste of you, he licks you up hungrily, then looks up at you with those gorgeous dark eyes and tells you "You taste so good, baby..." Before getting back to work.

You're clutching his short dark hair like there's no tomorrow, pulling him in, in...

He loves when you take a bit of control for how you like it, he wants to make sure you're pleased before he gets to his own pleasure

Soon enough he's dipping his fingers into you, hitting that spot you like so much, and in between breaths and tongue motions, he's saying "How lucky I am to have such a gorgeous wife..." And "I know all those men at the party wanted to fuck you, but I'm the one who gets to see you like this, isn't that right baby?" And its all you can do to moan out his name and say yes, yes he is the one who gets to eat your pussy like this. The one to fuck you into oblivion later.

Soon enough, your legs are shaking, your breath is fast and you can feel yourself cumming. Kevin looks up at you and you can tell from how he is looking at you, a mixture of determination and pleading, pleading for you to cum on his face. He loves doing this to you, making you completely addicted to this feeling, and being able to lap up your juices as you spill over the edge.

As you do, your legs begin to give out, but Kevin's strong. He's so strong. He holds up your weight as your legs stop working, and your thighs clamp around his head, that feeling that he loves

He finishes you off, leaving you an out of breath mess

He pulls you to the ground, only giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before he's laying you on your back, leaning in to kiss you, equally letting you taste yourself as he glides his cock into you

You're used to him, so he doesn't take it easy on you, but god is his cock BIG. Even if you are his wife, it feels like it stretches you out and fills you completely every time. You gasp as he fully inserts himself, your nails digging into his back, and he groans from the feeling

Kevin loves mixing pleasure and pain so he tells you to scratch him harder, and you oblige, your nails leaving red welts on his back by the time you two are done

Kevin pumps himself in and out of your dripping pussy, the floor of the apartment getting slick with what isn't on his cock. He loves making a mess with you

Kevin makes sure to eat up what little breath you have with his deep kisses, and you can hardly take it.

Your body is like his toy you're so out of it, completely weak from cumming before, he moves you where he wants, grips your legs, your thighs, making you move to where he can get deeper into you

That's all he can think about, "How can I fuck her deeper, harder...?"

He works your increasingly tender pussy in long, slow, passionate bursts that are sandwiched in between the fastest fucking you have ever received, your voice is almost sore from screaming out his name, and he's egging you on, eager to hear you scream out, wanting it louder, wanting to keep good on the promise that the neighbors will hear.

Just when you think he can't get bigger inside you, you start to feel it.

His cock is reaching maximum hardness, his tip leaking precum inside you, and he's telling you how badly he wants you bred from his cum, how he's giving you that baby one way or another

He's likely mid dirty talk, looking down at you, at your face that's so innocent and perfect, your soft lips moaning out his name, when he cums, filling you up so much more than you could ever think possible. It almost hurts how full you feel from his cock so deep inside you, pushing his cum even deeper, and twitching as it goes.

He collapses into you, Kevin's breaths so ragged and raw, just like yours.

He lays his head into your neck, his breath hot and tickling you there, the two of you lay like this for a while

As soon as he has the energy, Kevin is scooping you up off the floor and holding you close, asking you how you liked it (you loved it of course, and tell him so)

He runs a hot bath for the two of you, while he waits for it to fill he sits on the edge of your giant, luxury tub and softly pets your hair, running his hand down your back as well

You bury yourself into his neck now, holding his sweaty body close to yours, trying not to move to much so he doesn't spill out from between your legs

When the tubs finished he puts the two of your in, and begins washing you up, your favorite parts being when he does your hair, your back, and your feet.

He finishes himself up while you float and relax in the steamy tub, then he pulls the two of you out and works on drying you off with the softest fluffiest towel.

When he's finished he takes you to the room where the two of you collapse into bed, exhausted from the night, curling up to each other and drifting off happily.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

i decide what’s appropriate (john milton x reader) [request]

summary: (y/n) is growing tired of her boss' advances.

warnings: light angst, light fluff, a little stalking

words: 0.8k

notes: just another day of wanting to fuck that old man. enjoy <3

“Giddy up, we’re going for a ride”, his voice sounds somewhat demanding, the look on his face making the girl shiver from head to toe. 

(y/n) lets out a heavy sigh as John takes her out of her thoughts. She turns to see him standing in the doorway with a wide smile. Repetitive. Things were starting to get repetitive and (y/n) didn’t have the stomach for it anymore. Could she perhaps quit the job and move out of town? Who was she kidding, in what world would John let her do such a thing? He had connections and money, she surely wasn’t getting away that easily. She couldn’t even sue the guy for his uncomfortable comments, as he was the hottest lawyer in town. Hell, John would make her pay him money for suing in the first place. That was the type of power he held. With another defeated sigh, she only complied in silence. Nothing she ever said made a difference, anyway. 

John walks with her towards his car, which probably costs more money than (y/n) will ever make in her lifetime as a secretary, and swiftly opens the door for her. “After you, sweetheart.”

(y/n) hesitates. He’s been stalking her in the office for a month now, but getting into this man’s car just seems too much. She should probably run and never look back, but her feet don’t share the same opinion as they make their way into the vehicle gracefully. The girl doesn’t even have to look at John's face to know he’s got a smug smile painting his lips while he sits beside her and turns on the engine. They drive to seemingly nowhere in particular, and his conversible causes her hair to blow with the wind as he steps into the pedal without ceremony. The breeze hitting her face is nice, and for a moment she forgets her annoyance at her boss these past few weeks.

John doesn’t say a thing for quite some time, but he keeps an eye on her every now and then. He doesn’t stop at red lights and she feels slightly anxious, however, his relaxed demeanor ends up affecting her in a good way. His confidence that they could never crash somehow soothes (y/n) and the only thing in her mind now is the sound of the roaring wind in her ears. Her hair is a mess, but she doesn’t care. For a split second, she doesn’t care about anything. Her lips curve upwards at the thought. 

John takes note of it and raises his brow. “Someone’s loosening up, I see.”

She only hums in response, closing her eyes and resting her head against the seat. “Yeah.”

“Your brother said you wanted to quit”, he says casually, but it’s clear he’s not pleased with the information. (y/n) thinks about punching Kevin in the face as John adds with a snort, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t exactly talk about quitting your job to your boss, Mr. Milton”, she laughs it off awkwardly, avoiding his piercing gaze. 

He finds the comment funny, as he chuckles along and nods. “Call me John.”

“That’s not appropriate”, (y/n) looks down at her lap, her voice sounding more submissive than she initially intended. There’s just something about this guy.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head slowly. “I decide what’s appropriate at my firm. Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart.”

“What else did Kevin tell you?”, she gives him a questioning look. She figured they spoke of her on occasion, as it was inevitable. Kevin had been the one to recommend her to John when she moved to New York. Everything she did would weigh on him too. 

“Nothing much, really. We talk mostly about work. We’re professionals, you know?”, he grins at her knowingly, as if he had just read her mind. 

(y/n) feels a shiver up her spine, but smiles shyly. “Good.”

“I told him I wanna figure you out”, he continues, parking the car in front of a fancy restaurant. Even the doors look expensive. (y/n) stares back at him with a slight frown, trying to understand what he means by that. John gets out of the car and opens her door, offering his hand. She blushes a little and accepts his help. Her knees feel weak with his proximity, his rough palm still holding hers firmly. Their faces are close when he mumbles, his hot breath hitting her mouth, “can I?”

(y/n) reckons this is the only time her words might make a difference, after all. Yet, with his dark eyes watching her every movement like a hawk, her mind goes completely blank. She feels enchanted, under a spell. Her voice comes in a pathetic whisper, “yes.”

John smirks. 

[iovesia]

HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS.

❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( keanu reeves masterlist. & gif credit. )

warnings: angst. gender neutral reader. slight fluff. insecurities. emotional hurt/little comfort. arguing. one mention of weed. not proof-read. english isn't my first language, apologies for any grammar errors!

characters included: ted logan (bill & ted), matt (river's edge), neo (the matrix trilogy), kevin lomax (the devil's advocate).

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ i have too much to study to be writing this, but here we are! i'm slowly falling back into my keanu reeves phase (not that i ever left), so enjoy these quick little hcs! i had to include some of his more underrated characters. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy!— reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡

⠀

ted would be the least jealous out of everyone on this roster. but it never bummed him out any less when he would watch you spending frequent time with someone else. hurts even more if it is someone that ted thinks you'd be better with. his insecurities begin to creep from the back of his mind when he'd hear about your new science partner that you've been assigned to for a class project. along with his head hurting from trying to understand any of the formulas you're writing down— his heart hung heavily in his chest. academics have never been ted's strongest suit, but he tried! but what if that wasn't good enough for you anymore? what if you wanted to date someone you could have intellectual conversations with? or someone who could spell "stallions" correctly? ted would be noticeably quieter when you two would hang out, and it'd take a while before he'd crack and tell you how he felt.

matt is jealous mostly out of fear— fear that he will lose you, the person who is the most important to him. he comes from a dysfunctional family: an working mother, a drunk stepfather, and a sociopathic little brother hellbent on causing mayhem. so it's safe to say that he's become very attached to you— the only stability in his chaotic world. he will often get jealous, resulting in late night arguments. the rage bubbling in his veins and he snaps, and his misdirected anger never fails to make your eyes brim with tears. expect matt to knock on your door the next morning. he mumbles soft apologies and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you inhale the soft scent of weed and cigarettes staining his denim jacket.

neo knows that you're already his, and he trusts you. you would never betray him. the look of utter devotion in his eyes when he gazes at you is forever imprinted in your mind. you're two halves of a whole. he's not prone to jealousy when someone tries to hit on you. neo's body tenses when he sees you walking around the nebuchadnezzar with dozer, a hearty laugh escaping your lips. any bubbling insecurities fade when your eyes glance over to him, the heat rushing to his cheeks. it could be years that you're together, yet he finds himself flustered and blushing everytime.

one night, when kevin dragged you along to another one of john milton's parties, he had "momentarily" left you as he was reeled into another mind-numbingly boring conversation with some other lawyers at neighbouring firms. kevin is slightly possessive over you, so you hardly miss his narrow gaze when he sees one of his colleagues getting a little too friendly with you. with a clenched jaw, he excuses himself and almost immediately walks over to you. kevin thinks very highly of himself, so he's not exactly jealous as he is offended— offended at the idea that anyone thinks they have a shot with you. he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, and with a cheshire grin hanging on his lips, pulls you away.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

The Devil's Advocate

One Piece Imagine

- A Silent Observer -

...

"Wait...you live forever?!" The little Monkey D. exclaimed in shock. Eyes wider than the very plates before him, as they peered up to the tall woman standing just a few feet ahead of him.

Snorting softly at the boy's loud reaction, you rolled your eyes, "Yes and no --- I can live for as long as I please as long as I never receive a fatal injury. Like a terminal illness, or a stab to the heart. Do you understand, little one?"

The young boy quickly nodded, for a moment you thought his head would pop off from how quickly he was moving it. "How is that possible?! Are you a--a vampire?" You couldn't stop the grin that split across your face, he sure was entertaining.

"No, not a vampire. If I was, I'd be a pile of ash considering the sun is their enemy." Snatching a small piece of meat off his plate, much to his loud protest, you savored the taste as the flavors overwhelmed your taste buds.

You sighed, "Many many years ago, I had this...friend. she managed to get her hands on this very peculiar fruit, one that granted you powers if you ate it."

He practically jumped out of his seat, "Oh! I know, a Devil Fruit!"

You laughed, nodding your head, "Yes, a Devil Fruit. I'm surprised you even know that."

"Shanks told me! Hehe, he yelled at me for eating one."

The woman paused at his words, "You...ate a Devil Fruit, Luffy? Already?"

"Yep! It tasted like vomit, bleh!"

It was only then, that you noticed the strawhat sitting by his lap.

Leaning back into the chair, you huffed, "Wow, I really need to keep track of time. I mean damn, he even gave you his hat! I thought I still had a good two years left or something."

"Oi! Finish your story!" He took another chunk out of his drumstick.

Clicking your tongue in slight annoyance, you continued, "She never really used it--- don't know why really, she was just... like that, I guess. Regardless, one day, after a great battle, she was hurt, badly. And so was I. Rather than...saving herself, like she should've, she used her power to grant me immortality. She gave up her own life so that I could live."

"Why the hell would she do that for?" You smacked the back of his head.

"Because that's what best friends do for one another...even if the other doesn't like it "

Glancing to your left, you eyed the young boy you had met long ago, when he was just a stupid child running around screaming for a fight. A smile greeting the skies as more memories came to the very forefront of your mind. It's been a while since you've enjoyed such simplicities.

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a pirate and you're gonna be right there next to me!"

Closing your eyes to take a short moment of rest, you relaxed yourself.

"Me? Wanting me in your crew is one thing, impressing me enough for me to consider joining is a whole other thing, little Luffy." You teased, a loose smirk hanging low on your lips as the boy pouted.

"Then I'll just have to impress you!" "And, how will you do that exactly?"

Silence, which is impossible since Luffy is never silent. Snapping an eye open, the Devil Fruit user watched the pondering boy in light awe. For once, it looked like the braincells in his mind had finally connected.

"Then...I'll be like that guy!"

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, "What guy?"

"The guy in your stories! The one who always smiles!"

Oh.

Oh, how he reminded her of him.

You hummed, "It's tough business being the Pirate King. Are you sure you're up for it?"

He looked at you in curiosity, "Pirate....King?"

You nodded, "Yeah. King of all Pirates. You can only become that after finding the legendary One Piece, a treasure no one but one crew has seen before. His crew."

Luffy then grinned, "Then I'll find the One Piece and I'll become the Pirate King! You'll have no choice but to join my crew!"

Ever since that day, you've been around. Wordlessly observing Luffy and his little family of strays and bandits. Sometimes, you'd approach them, but only when their minds were elsewhere --- it was for the best. Although that didn't mean the youngest had any less luck in finding you. Luffy always knew you were there, perhaps not all the time, but enough times that he could tell the difference.

He'd talk about you to his brothers, in fact, he'd rarely ever kept his mouth shut about you. To be honest, the other boys had figured Luffy mad --- not at all believing him and his tale about the woman in the woods. Ugh, that sounded creepy.

But, at the same time, none of them could deny the moments where someone had come to their rescue at the very last second when their adventures went awry.

Ace and Sabo, on numerous occasions, had tried to find the mysterious woman, but to no avail. She must either be a ninja or a ghost, they figured despite Luffy's insistence on her existence.

And, every time, he would come crying to you. Yelling at you for making his brothers think he was crazy, a pain that would be easily soothed by the sight of food. (You did eventually reveal yourself, I believe)

You adored memories like these. They were few and far between within the length of your life.

Soon enough, you'd have to leave him. You already knew what his future held, in truth, you couldn't wait for him to discover his path to independence.

"Luffy, I'm going to be leaving today."

The boy froze mid-bite, "W-What? What do you mean you're leaving?!"

You frowned lightly, "Don't worry. I'll come back, one day. I have some business to attend to, business I've neglected for quite some time."

"Business?! But can't we do that together?!" You chuckled under your breath.

"Perhaps, when you're all grown up. But for now, no."

Standing up, the utensils on the table eagles at your abrupt action --- Luffy lunged for the fabric of your long violet coat, tears swelling up in his eyes as he tugged on it. Trying to pull you back down with his child strength. For a moment, you thought to entertain him, yet you knew you needed to go.

It was time.

"No! You can't leave now! You, uh --- I, uh---I don't want you to go!"

"Please, don't do this! Save yourself, not me. I don't deserve-"

You took a moment to breathe.

Coming over to his side of the table, you crouched down to his height. A small sympathetic smile on your face as you wipe away the tears from the apples of his cheeks, your thumb running over his stitched scar.

"Find me when you have a crew, Luffy. I won't join you. Though that doesn't mean I won't stay a while."

And with that said, you left.

Years would come to pass, many days became monotone while others became highlights. Such as today, when one of Morgan's birds came flying down to you with a rolled up scroll in its mouth.

Pride swelled in your chest as you looked at the contents of the paper.

Luffy's wanted poster.

Not a bad starting number, you smirked

You laughed.

"You're almost there, Luffy. Just a little bit more, and I'll be back before you know it."

...

(A/N): Originally speaking, the entire DA series was just like random headcanons of my OC in OP. But like, on a whim, I decided to publish it. And, well, you guys just ate it up so I continued. To be honest, there's not much cohesiveness but there is a shit ton of indulgences, so there's that.

This is actually the fanfic that pre-dates all the DA --- although, this is a completely altered version of the original. I think all of my DA works are from 2019 but this fic was made in 2018. It's a miracle it was still in my drafts.

CHECK MY CENTRAL MASTER LIST FOR NEWS ABOUT DA SERIES.

Anyways

Hope you enjoyed!

[rosesloveletters]

Flame in the Dark.

pairing: John Milton x Fem. Reader

word count: 6,019

warnings: language, smut, irreverent use of religion/religious terminology (come on, he’s Satan, what am I supposed to do?)

summary: This was why you came to him, after all, because he could give you things that no one else could. // Just because you had difficulty coming to terms with an unattached sexual encounter did not mean that he did and he was showing you the way…

author’s note: whew! I didn’t thought this would ever see the light of day, but I’m pleased to finally have something to post for my readers. I haven’t written smut in almost two years, so please be kind. I’ve been dying to write for John Milton since I saw the Devil’s Advocate last summer and I’ve finally done it! Enjoy!

edited.

gif credit: miss-kt on tumblr

She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called happy. Proverbs 3:15-18.

There were only two separate sounds which reached your ears that you could discern amid the other thoughts vying in strict competition for the same recognition inside your mind: your gentle breathing and the crackling fireplace, which had cast the otherwise dimly lit room in an otherworldly orange glow. The space itself was cold and so you had taken up residency on the hearth beside the roaring blaze. Your gaze was trained on the flickering flames as they waltzed to an inaudible ballad, the delicate way in which they moved was a beautiful contrast to its highly destructive nature. You were mesmerized by it; your dilated pupils reflected their dance and the amber color illuminated your face in the dark. You had stepped into a realm of nonexistence and the cold air made your lungs ache. You ignored it, but the way your body shuddered betrayed you. The fire was warm; You were stood so close that you might as well be kindling, combustible under the intensity of the heat which radiated from the burning flames, yet the shivers that traveled down your spine never ceased. Perhaps your physical form had not acclimated itself to the change in temperature or it was the result of something far more sinister.

It was the sort of feeling that manifested from desire, of watching or of being watched, and being forced to remain impassive. The minor irritation turned frustratingly urgent, desperate were you to scratch that itch, to placate the tide rising within you and return to calmer waters. To suppress it any longer put one’s fragile psyche under far too much distress and discomfort.

It was where temptation met physicality, when seeing was no longer satisfaction. The only thing that was enough to satiate the fire burning on the inside was to act on it. The need made you shudder; nothing short of being burned alive would be enough to save your soul this time.

You could sense him watching from across the room. A carefully trained ear could pick up the nearly imperceptible clinking of ice cubes inside a glass as it was being raised to a pair of smirking lips. You didn’t need to turn around to know for certain that his eyes were on you. He sized you up from across the room while he fixed himself a drink, observing you whilst sipping casually.

It was slightly unnerving when he didn’t talk; you were used to his eloquence, but mostly the lack thereof. It was his irreverence that turned you on and when he did not speak it always meant the same thing: now was the time for action and impulse. He would talk, when he was ready; John Milton loved to talk, never at a loss for what to say.

It appeared he always knew what you were thinking and these instances seemed to play out at the direction of your inner monologue each time the pair of you came together; if one thing was for certain, it was that sex with John Milton was always a passionate, carnal affair.

If you were comfortable, he carried out acts at the height of human depravity; you were safe to explore that side with him.

He wore arrogance like armor that made him invincible, but this was more than what it seemed. This was self-indulgence at its finest and you were enamored by the endless possibilities which had been presented to you over the course of your employment at Milton, Chadwick and Waters.

This law firm was far from ordinary and you had sensed it on your first day, so why were you here? The atmosphere was impersonal yet the walls around you seemed to breathe; you had come here far too often to be offput by it.

God rest your soul, there was some compulsivity which had driven you to repeat the same mistakes and that was your heaven. Walking through those doors and into the office that belonged to the head of the firm was comparable to coming home to your Lord and revisiting the church after a lengthy sabbatical. Even if you were not religious by any means, there was a reason your mind went there. Stained glass windows in your mind opened onto the city and purified your thoughts but even that would not be enough to cause you to repent.

The part of you that belonged to him called you and tempted you further and further from the light. It was dark here, sans the fire burning in the gloom; Milton’s face was illuminated, yet there was a darkness within him no light cast upon his physical form would diminish.

“Come, now,” Milton’s voice in your ear made you turn and look at him, only to find him still standing behind his desk though you could have sworn it sounded like he was directly at your back. You suppressed a shiver as he regarded you and his eyes seemed to smirk, “have a drink with me.”

His dark eyes glittered in the light of the fire and he smiled in your direction, but there was a malicious edge to it which warned ominously ‘tread carefully.’

You ignored his request, “Why do I keep coming here, Mr. Milton?”

The head of the firm barked a sharp laugh like how he was prone to do and you forced yourself not to jump at the sudden sound, “I asked you to, dear,” he answered, conveniently sidestepping the response he had to know you sought, “You are welcome to go home after hours if you want, in fact, it’s strongly encouraged!”

Then, as an afterthought, “And please, call me John.”

He had asked you, hadn’t he? That was right; he had caught you in the hall earlier in the day and, when one thing led to another, he invited you to his office after working hours to have a drink with him. You knew how it happened, just not why. What purpose had you for coming here?

The repetitiveness played to your senses and yet you did not know what drew you here, “John,” you corrected yourself as you addressed him by name; the weight of it on your tongue felt heavy and tasted metallic like blood, “I know you invited me. I just don’t know why I’m standing here in front of you when I could be on my way home.”

He poured the liquid into a crystal glass without taking his eyes off you, “it’s tricky,” he said, “do you want to be here or would you like to go home?”

You couldn’t tell if he was being patronizing or not as you approached his desk and reached for the glass he offered you, “I would say that I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to be,” you started, “but sometimes I feel like I have no control over my own actions. That might seem strange to you.”

“Not strange at all,” he reassured you as he sank down into the chair behind his desk, eyes never straying from their subtle assessment of you, “‘No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind’. You make your own decisions, darling, but I can’t say I’m not pleased that you decided to spend the evening with me after all.”

‘I only set the stage. You pull your own strings.’

It was not the first time you had done this. Temptation led you here, into your own personal garden of Eden where the serpent laid in wait to pour its poison into your ear. It was your choice to make, yet each time you entered John’s office did you forfeit your free will. That was not the case, because you could leave at any time; you were holding yourself captive and the God’s honest truth was that you loved that feeling.

The smirk on John’s face grew as you gulped down the alcohol he had poured for you and you winced imperceptibly as the liquid scorched a path of fire down your throat; suffering felt religious when done right and you craved it every time you came to him.

Milton regarded you appreciatively as you perched on the edge of his desk. He was thrilled that you were so trusting the first time you had come to him and that he was the only one with permission to fuck you. You had not explicitly said those words to him, but heaven help the poorest of poor souls who might try, because hell sure wouldn’t.

He let those thoughts steep in his mind as he mulled over the connotations; you kept coming here because you wantedhim to fuck you, but nothing of such great magnitude was ever that simple.  

“I’m glad I did too,” you answered him, “I was almost afraid I wouldn’t have the nerve to set foot in here again.”

“Why is that?” he asked the question like he was interested in the answer.

“Well…” you ventured, “after the last time, I-”

“Nonsense!” John waved away your insecurities like they were no more than a cloud of bothersome smoke wreathed around his head, “You’ve got to let go of that vacillation. Do you want to know what I think?”

You knew that he was going to tell you without even having to ask or venture a guess, so you remained silent for his explanation.

“You enjoyed yourself the last time. Didn’t you?” Milton asked, “always knew you were going to come back because you just couldn’t get far enough away from that ache you get in your core when I put you over my desk and worship you better than any one of God’s precious children does in church on Easter Sunday.”

This was no religious experience; John Milton was a crisis of your faith and without him would you have remained devout to that same hollow existence, devoid of pleasures many sought after only to deny themselves of and condemn those who did not. You had not thought of it that way before. Something about this man was strangely religious even if the deeds he engaged in were anything but.

Milton’s gaze never wavered or strayed far from yours as he got to his feet and parted your legs which were previously pressed together on the sturdy desk made of polished wood; your core throbbed at his words as you had begun to ache with need at the turn of the conversation. He was right: that feeling his words gave went straight to the place between your legs and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening. It was no secret that your boss held power over your body and the reactions he drew from it both unnerved and excited you.

Milton placed one hand on either of your shoulders and with your knees apart, he stood between your parted legs, “you can leave, if you want,” he leaned close to whisper hotly in your ear, “but you and I both know you don’t really want to do that.”

His fingertips played with the hem of your skirt, tantalizingly dancing between fabric and flesh as he caressed you reverently. The dress code at the law firm dictated your appearance and attire; it was no secret as to why.

“How do you know what I want?”

The question made him smirk as though he were enjoying some private little joke with himself before he answered, “the same way I know what every person wants. We all want what’s been forbidden from us, to taste what our palates can’t handle only to prove that we can,” with one hand, he reached to cup your cheek, “you can. This can be whatever you want it to. Don’t pressure yourself to come up with a reason for it when you don’t need one.”

The dance you did with John was one of elegant footwork and aligned movements. A casual hookup for sins of the flesh, but it did not matter. You came to him all the same, for all the reasons you did not need or want; sex for the sake of sex…what a concept.

You were the one who closed the gap between your bodies, bringing your lips to John’s as you felt his smirk widen and his hand slid up the length of your thigh. The warm hand stopped at your panties and as you kissed, it began to explore. He made an appreciative noise as his fingers probed further; the barrier between your core and Milton’s fingers was already wet with your desire and that pleased him.

Suddenly, both of his hands were under your skirt, slowly stripping you of your thin undergarment and you broke the kiss to watch him do so. You let him slide your cotton panties down your legs until they fell to the office floor and he grinned at you wolfishly. You wanted to be furious that someone should have this much control over your body, but your brain translated fury into passion and that fueled the hellfire within you that succumbed to temptation so easily.

John’s fingers were back and that warm hand worked its magic on your clit, teasing your precious bud of nerves until it pearled under his skilled ministrations. Your body responded to his touch in a way almost inhuman. You let your boss forwardly grope you and fondle your most sensitive area as he teased you into submission.

You arched your back, fingers clenching the arm of his pristine suit and he chuckled devilishly at your reaction, “well, that was easy,” he commented with a breathy laugh, “don’t hold back, honey. That must feel good. Well, better than just ‘good’, I’d say. I’ve been around the block a time or two if you know what I mean.”

Your thighs quivered and it took severe perseverance not to spread them apart further in eager appreciation and with the demand for more, faster. Milton’s fingertip circled your clit as he played with the notion of perhaps giving you what you so desired.

Not until the length of his fingers sunk inside you did you cry out in bliss. Your sharp cries were music to his ears; whatever he had to do to hear more of them, he would gladly oblige.

John preferred to have sex in the pitch black. The fact that you couldn't rely on your eyes and had to use touch and sound rather than visualize what was happening interested him and kept him engaged. The only light in the room was from the fire and even the flickering flames were not enough to brighten his side of the room at such a distance.

John was all about pleasure. He truly would worship you because that was what kept you coming back to him. He loved the noises you made when he kissed his way down your stomach and how your body reacted to his warm lips, raising goosebumps on your skin. He delighted in your quiet moans of pleasure and the way your breathing changed with every pinch and knead of his hands.

Even if you couldn't see him, he could see you.

Milton scissored the two fingers he had within your warm wetness. If he was shocked by how wet you were from the penetration, he did not mention it. He had seen it all, but even so, he took none of it for granted.

You were near to collapsing onto his desk from the effort of remaining upright while he fingered you, “John…” you moaned his name breathily, “oh…oh, God…”

Milton scoffed as he doubled down, pressing his thumb hard against your clit and making you shriek with pleasure, “God… That’s who you’re thinking about right now, God? My hand is between your legs and you’re thinking about God? Because, last time I checked, He’s not going to get down off His throne in heaven to give you any relief. Don’t say His name again. I don’t see Him here.”

In this state you were uncertain of the truth behind his words and you did not care to know. His vehement request would not be ignored, but the only thing you needed now was John’s touch, his hands, his mouth, him.

“John!” You gasped, repeating his name like a sacred prayer and this seemed to satisfy him. John spread you apart, pulled daringly at your seams until you unraveled for him. He had learned what excited you and what made you incoherent with a fervent ache. He learned to interpret all those barely perceptible changes in your voice and the inflection of your moans and he knew precisely what he needed to do to give you orgasm.

But you were not coming yet.

John extracted his fingers from your warmth and you whimpered from how sensitive you were. A force beyond your control seemed to draw your eyes to his visage as he lifted his hand to his lips and crudely licked his fingers clean of your juices.

Unable to remain steady in your sitting position any longer, you allowed yourself a reprieve and fell back upon his desk. You laid spread for him like an alter sacrifice that John would use to further break the laws of God.

He helped himself to your body, a simple flick of the wrist and he had removed your blouse. With only your bra to cover your chest, you arched your back enticingly and reached for him, “John, touch me…” you gasped, wanting to run your hands through his hair and rip him apart like he was doing to you. You wanted to drive him insane with arousal; you wanted him hungry for you.

Milton swiftly removed your bra and exposed your tits. He squeezed and kneaded the soft mounds of flesh on your chest and pinched your nipples between his dexterous fingers. The stimulation made you squirm and squeal, feeling a flood of juices gush from your center as your pussy throbbed with renewed vigor.

You pushed your breasts further into his hands and your mouth fell open when he finally engulfed one hard nipple in his mouth, comparable to how he had done with your clit. His thumb gently caressed and rubbed the other nipple until you had tears streaming down your face, “John!” you screamed his name and suddenly was he taken aback by how loud you were being for him …he loved it.

He knew all too well how sensitive your breasts were; teasing both of your nipples to hardness was too easy.

Milton moved quickly from your breasts and, without giving you more than a moment or two to recover, he dropped to his knees, pulled you closer by your hips and swiped his tongue over your clit.

You squealed and twisted in his grip, but his hands kept you pinned against the desk. You were not getting away from him.

His tongue probed your glistening folds and penetrated your pussy to taste directly from the source. The longer he lapped at your fruit, the closer to release you became and he knew it; you were ripe and ready to be devoured.

“Oh, John!” you cried, “Please! Please, please…”

He loved when you begged with delirious rapture, delighting in the knowledge that you were ready to burst but couldn’t quite get there until he relented. You were close to tears, bound in raw and excruciating arousal and ready to cum at any second.

Making you cum was the most erotic reward of them all.

You could be tricky but he never had to work too hard to get you off. You were not used to such gratifying sex. The tricks Milton used were unfair, to say the least, but as his tongue currently plunged into you, you did not really give a damn. This was why you came to him, after all, because he could give you things that no one else could.

Perhaps it would change when he got you acclimated to having sex with him on a regular basis, but for now, your desires were being fulfilled the way you wanted and you were going to soak up every solitary second.

Even though you were very different people, when you came together like this, you fit like two centerpieces of a puzzle, even if Milton’s edges were jagged.

“John!” your sharp cry of his name came as a warning, “Fuck! I’m going to cum! Please…please!!”

He loved teasing you, driving you to the very edge only to leave you teetering on the precipice of that sweet release until you sobbed for it but he never pushed you over until he was ready for you to take that final plunge.

He loved to keep you guessing what his next move might be; you would whimper in despair when you were about to come, only for him to ease off you and grin in the dark when you groaned his name in frustration.

This time when he did, he made amends by gently kissing your inner thighs, aware of how sensitive the skin was there and he laughed at how your pussy was clenching around nothing, “aren’t you something?” he mused as he took in the sight of you laid there, his for the taking, “you must like what you’re receiving, since you don’t seem to be in any hurry to head for the door.”

You weren’t leaving until you got what you came for. You had known what you wanted from the moment John invited you here and it was foolish to deny yourself acknowledgement of that. He must’ve known, otherwise why else were you here? You were involved in a complicated relationship with the head of this law firm but, as he had said before, it did not have to be.

Just because you had difficulty coming to terms with an unattached sexual encounter did not mean that he did and he was showing you the way…

“John, please…” you whined, “I need you to fuck me.”

Nothing turned him on as much as your delectable moans and pleas. He wanted to touch and taste you for all of eternity.

John ceased his assault on your body and he peered down at you with satisfaction for your readiness for him, “alright, alright. I’ve had my fun, but you also seemed to like it,” he laughed as this time he used words to tease you, “but let’s get down to business, shall we?”

You hauled yourself into a sitting position once more and pulled John closer to you by his tie. Your hungry insistence made him laugh as he unbuckled his belt, “take it easy, darling” he cooed and patted your hair, “we’re going to get to the good stuff. It’s coming, don’t you worry.”

The air was cold inside of this room, but the passion John had ignited within you burned your skin. You were not usually this desperate; whatever it was that had taken hold of you here was relentless and even if you chose to fight against it would have been to no avail. There were unseen forces working against you and the choices you made led you deeper into this cycle of moral and physical degradation. You did not care how needy you seemed. If Milton had wished it, you would have been on your knees, and not in prayer, in a heartbeat.

Milton kissed you feverishly and almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he said, “there will be a time for that, but for now, your pleasure is mine.”

Under normal circumstances, that would have frightened you, but in your current state there was the possibility that you had unintentionally said your thoughts out loud. You were not in control of yourself, driven to carnality by the incessant urging of your boss and the things he was doing to your body and to your mind.

He unzipped his pants and you gasped as you hung onto him, giving in to desire as you kissed his jaw and neck. You wanted to kiss across every inch of that man’s body and if he really could read your thoughts then he knew that already, so half the work was done for you.

He had prepared you well and it was time to deliver; there was no time like the present.

“Lay down for me, darling,” he crooned, tilting his head and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You did as you were told, allowing him to help you lower yourself back onto his desk. His hands were warm on your skin and his touch was gentle; with your skirt rucked up and your top missing, you looked like a renaissance painting and John Milton was the artist.

John could have had any casual partner he wanted, but what interested him was not merely sex but the corruption. He wanted you, body and soul, to belong to him.

He never would have thought you capable of the level of intensity at which you fucked. He had never fucked so lasciviously and brutal with anyone like you and he had had more sex in this lifetime than he would have willingly admitted to you just yet. It was animalistic and licentious, loud and sweaty and at times he believed he had gone too far and was being too rough. But you were up for almost anything if it was with him.

It could have been soft and delicate, gentle and sweet in a way he rarely experienced. You could have spent hours together, cuddling, making love and kissing passionately, exploring each other’s bodies with rapt curiosity. It was moments like these, when Milton’s cock bore into you and you cried out for more of him, that he realized he could have taken all he wanted from you and you would have given it up without a fight. Humans were weak, he reasoned, at least their resolve was. That was the beauty of it: you were a pawn in his unending chess game with God, locked in a battle he could not win but would never stop trying. This made it worth every failure.

You, squirming beneath him as he gripped the backs of your thighs to hold you in position while he fucked you mercilessly. Every moan, gasp and call of his name stroked the ego of this vain fallen angel. You knew not what you did, how could you be to blame, but that was not the way things worked; Milton was using you for his own gain and you wanted him to destroy you.

You rolled your hips against his, but the brutal rhythm he maintained was far too much for you to keep up with. You panted with the exertion and John’s evil grin manifested in your view, “you alright, sweetheart?” he asked like you were merely having a conversation instead of your pussy being pounded relentlessly on your boss’s desk, “nothing you can’t handle, isn’t that right?”

You tried to respond but your vocal cords would not work beyond moans of pleasure and the occasional soft cry; you were so damn close.

John suddenly smacked your thigh and you screamed, “fuck!”

Seemingly pleased with your reaction, he chuckled as he thrust into you harder than before. You had never been fucked so thoroughly before and in the haze did you recognize your good judgement and how good it felt to finally let it all go. You had come here for a reason and this was it. John was your reprieve from the rest of the world, a righteous testament against what so many stood for and he would break down those same walls within you. He was proud of what he did; if not for his hands in many different pies within the law firm he joint-owned, this was the reason he came to work every day.

You needed redemption for your sins, but you did bad things for the sake these good times.

“John…” your breathy moan had his attention in an instant, though his pace never slowed. The expression on your face alerted him to your impending release and he bucked into you harder, angling himself within you to reach your sweetest spots and maximize your pleasure.

He stayed inside of you as you came. In the moment before you climaxed, he reached between your legs and massaged your clit through the intense release of pent-up tension. You screamed his name to the gods as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, radiating upwards through your body from your convulsing center.

Your pussy always clenched so tightly around him and sometimes you even squirted. It had happened previously when you masturbated alone, only once or twice, so it always came as a nice surprise at the end. You never thought another person would ever make you feel this good; something about John Milton simply was not human.

The mess that you had been reduced to was pleasing to the head of the firm and he was satisfied to let you lie there as he pounded into you, chasing his own release that he so thoroughly deserved after your own had overtaken you at his behest.

You were limp beneath him, hardly registering what was happening, only that this onslaught on your senses was welcome; you knew you would have a difficult time walking after John was finished with you.

Milton lost himself in your fall from grace and he had no regrets for what he had done here.

Hellbent, the reckless one.

He came inside you with a growl, pumping you full of his seed as it mixed with your own cum until the stickiness spilled from within you. Your overstimulated pussy twitched and your legs quivered as John let go of you. Before you regained your composure enough to sit up, though you were still rather shaky, John had cleaned off, zipped himself up and was buckling his belt again before he attended to you.

“Satisfied?” he asked as he grabbed your undergarments off the floor for you.

You nodded and your head felt like it was full of cotton.

John took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and used it to carefully wipe up your mess before he slid your panties back on enough for you to shimmy yourself back into them, then he placed your bra straps onto your shoulders, one on each arm and directed you to turn as much as you could for him so that he could latch it closed.

If he wanted you to keep coming back to him, he would have to work for it and the challenge always made it worthwhile to him.

You were straightening out your skirt as best you could while still seated when John offered your shirt to you and let you put it on yourself.

Now, he turned his attention away from you and strode across the room to the fire.

Dressed and still in desperate need, of what you knew not, you gingerly eased yourself off your boss’s desk and turned to look for him.

He was standing by the blazing fire, the flames reflecting in his dark eyes and, unbeknown to you, even though he was not looking in your direction you were still very much within his sight.

He seemed distracted by something and you were curious to know what it was.

You approached him quietly and stood at his side by the fire. Your pussy throbbed deliciously every second or two and you could feel Milton’s cum leaking from you.

He smiled at you, placing his hands on either of your shoulders and squeezing lightly like a person offering encouragement after experiencing something immensely difficult, “I don’t want to send you on your way just like that, sweetheart,” Milton kissed your cheek almost tenderly, grinning at you like a devil, “no, you deserve so much more than that.”

You leaned into him, legs bent slightly; your mind settled on the press of his lips against your skin and the sound of his voice, not on how you were going to get away from him for the night.

“Something tells me you have more to offer than what we just did over there,” he gestured back to his desk, followed by a sharp, biting laugh.

You felt yourself nodding then, unbidden, but it felt so good.

“Atta girl! I’m proud of you.”

The praise he was giving you made you blush and his hands had fallen from your shoulders to your sides as he rubbed your now fully clothed body. He dragged you against him by your hips and you felt that he was already hard again, promising fulfillment in more ways than one. His stamina was something out of fiction and it did not make sense, or perhaps it did and you were too far gone to understand.

“But you know, it is getting late,” he countered his own invitation for you to stay for more, “if you’re too tired, you can head home now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced to stay here.”

If this was a test, your answer depended on it and, without thinking it through, you answered him, “I’m not tired. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

Milton was pleased with your answer, but the only tell was in his eyes. He sighed deeply as he released you and went to sit down in one of the chairs before the fire, regarding you in the dark as though you were an exhibit that was on display for him.

“’The tongue also is a fire,” he began cryptically; quoting scripture was something Milton did often, “a world of evil among the parts of the body.’”

You were unsure of how to respond, except that you did not understand his interpretation or what reason he had for bringing it up now.

“It’s funny how ridiculous it is,” the curve of his lips was sinful as he spoke and you could not pull your eyes away from him, “that the tongue we use to eat and for addressing our fellow man is intrinsically wrong for doing so, but I suppose there’s some truth hidden there.”

You were curious what John meant by that and why he even cared. The tension in the room was thick and cloying and you were drawn in by John’s charisma and charm as he spoke to you.

You sank to your knees in front of him, listening carefully as he continued, “it depends how you use it.”

He reached out and cupped your cheek the same way he had done earlier, with the utmost care and reverence for your delicate features. He wanted your attention now and he needn’t try hard to get it.

His thumb pressed down on your bottom lip and you opened your mouth slightly at his direction.

“Do you use your tongue for evil, darling?” he asked.

You looked at him and in that moment you swore the man looking back at you was seeing into your very soul.

With shaking hands did you give him your answer, reaching for his belt as you began to unbuckle him; better to show him with your actions than to tell him in words.

Instinct was there to guide you as your boss smirked at you, his face cast in orange firelight while you prepared to give back what you had so graciously received from him.

The air shifted and a sinister blackness settled over the room as Milton’s tongue flickered across his bottom lip, mimicking that of a serpent.

John Milton was baptized in sins you could not mention and it would be a tragedy just to commune with the likes of him; from hence, you prayed every night for the opportunity to do it all over again.

[mamaestapa]

hi loves!!!🤍

i’ve seen all of your messages and asks, i appreciate all of the love and kind messages. it means the world to me🤍

i feel terrible for coming back and then leaving again. i keep saying im back for good and then i disappear again…for like weeks. (it seems like as soon as i feel good enough to come back something comes up and im back to where i started LOL). its been good for me to step away from writing and from this blog, but i also miss it so much. i miss you all so much!

it was my escape from reality, gave me something to do, and kept me busy/always looking forward to something—which is what i really need right now!

as many of you have probably seen, my bf and i broke up. it was more of a “break” though because we did end up talking through it and getting back together (could’ve been the dumbest decision ever, but idc. i’m happy with my decision). SO we’re back, we’re both happy and feel we did the right thing. for me, that’s all that matters.

so i’ve been quite busy with him and working on our relationship, plus i got a babysitting job that’s been keeping me busy too. but i miss writing SO SO much.

so i’m deciding to make my comeback by doing a couple things. if you’re sticking around and are still here waiting patiently for new writing, thank you. thank you for your patience and your support, i love you all🫂🤍

here’s my plan!

fresh start on au asks: i’m going to delete all asks in my inbox and just start fresh with requests. i’m too overwhelmed with what i’ve got, so i think starting over with au asks will help a lot with that! (everything on my masterlist i’ll keep!)

fresh start on my drafts: i’m also going to delete all the planned fics in my drafts. once again, i’m overwhelming myself and think i just need to start fresh with those too. so any au fics, song imagines, unfinished works in my drafts will be deleted.

song imagine series: i’m going to try my song imagines series again! i’m still figuring out how i want to do it, but i will be trying that again! ttpd has inspired me with angst, so that’s partially why im going to try to get back into some song imagines lol

however, before i can do any of that, i NEED to update masterlist links for au’s!!! thank you all for being patient about that, i know it can be frustrating lol.

i’ll quit yapping for now, thank you all for your patience and understanding. your support means so much and i love you all SO much🤍🤍

[jynjackets]

Andor 🤝 The Handmaid’s Tale

taking POC history and bleaching it by inserting white actors in stories of oppression and rebellion as if racism has nothing to do with these events. Devoted fans of the show also loving how “political” it is without criticizing how bad and oversimplified their politics are portrayed.

[cosmicrhetoric]

on one hand my social media seems to be reflecting a small shift in cultural opinion about palestine, everywhere I look i see posts condemning the idf and promoting BDS safe shopping and one girl who did a video on how to get your money out of the starbucks app as quick as possible but on the other hand can we get the podcasters out of here

[bilestat]

I wish chewing gum were fucking illegal

[lilithlinen]

Turning Tables IIIII - Kevin Lomax, John Constantine x You.

John's POV Outside, I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I feel overwhelmed by anger and frustration. I replay the conversation over and over in my mind, wondering what I could have done differently. As I think about you, alone with him in that place, I know that I must find a way to get you away from him. I push myself off the wall and start walking down the street, trying to come up with a plan. 

As I'm walking down the street, my mind races. I need to find a way to get you away from Kevin, to rescue you from this toxic relationship. But how? I have no legal grounds to take action, and as far as the law is concerned, he is your rightful husband. I consider my options, none of which are ideal. I'm lost in thought, trying to come up with a plan, when suddenly I hear a voice behind me. 

"John." 

I turned around, recognizing the voice immediately. Lucifer (John Milton) stands before me, a sly smirk on his face. Great, just what I need. 

John: "What do you want, Lucifer?" 

Lucifer: "I see that you've met my son." 

I give him an incredulous look as he mentions Kevin. 

John: "Your son? You expect me to believe he's your son?”   

Lucifer: laughs "That's the truth, my friend. Kevin Lomax is one of my many offspring." 

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Kevin Lomax, the pompous lawyer, son of the Devil himself? It shouldn’t come as a surprise to me, but it does. 

John: "So you're telling me that he's your son...and a lawyer."   

Lucifer: "Yep, that's correct. My boy's quite the lawyer, isn’t he? I must admit, I’m quite proud of him." 

John: "And why are you telling me this now? You expect me to believe that you just happen to have a son who happens to marry the love of my life?" 

Lucifer grins, an evil glint in his eyes. 

Lucifer: "Oh, it's not just a coincidence, my friend. I orchestrated this whole thing. You can think of it as my little joke."   

John: "Your joke? You did this on purpose?"   

Lucifer: "Of course I did. I figured it would be amusing to watch you suffer, watching the woman you love marry the son of Satan. It’s just too perfect, don’t you think?" 

I take a step forward, anger bubbling up inside of me. I want to punch that damn smirk off his face. 

John: "You son of a bitch. You think this is all a game? That my suffering is just a joke to you?"   

Lucifer: laughs "Oh, come now, Constantine. Lighten up. I thought you enjoyed a good laugh. Besides, you’ve got to admit, the irony is pretty funny. The woman you love, married to the son of the Devil." 

I take a deep breath, trying to control myself. 

John: "This is no laughing matter. You have any idea the hell I’m going through? Watching her with him, seeing how miserable she is…"   

Lucifer: smirks "Oh, but she’s not miserable, my friend. She may have been at first, but trust me, she’s enjoying her new life. The money, the power, the status…she’s eating it up like candy. She's never been better. AND...she loves Kevin." 

I feel like someone just punched me in the gut.  

John: "What are you saying? She...loves him?"   

Lucifer: "Oh, she absolutely does. She's completely smitten. In fact, they're quite a happy couple. They're even planning on starting a family soon." 

My mind reels at his words. Y/N? happy with him? Starting a family with him? It seems like a nightmare come true. 

John: "No. You’re lying. She doesn’t love him.”   

Lucifer: "Oh, but she does. I’m afraid it’s very true, my friend. And she does love you...in a way. But she loves Kevin more. Much, much more. And you should see them together. The way she looks at him, the way they touch each other...it’s quite beautiful, really. Come with me and I will show you if you don't believe me." 

Reluctantly, I follow Lucifer as he leads me down the street. My mind is racing, trying to process what he’s telling me. I can’t believe that Y/N is truly happy with Kevin, not after what I saw. But a part of me can’t shake off the feeling that this is all part of Lucifer’s plan to drive me insane.  

John: “Where are you taking me?” 

Lucifer smirks, obviously enjoying my torment. 

Lucifer: "You'll see, my friend. Just follow me."   

Back at the Penthouse

You sit on the floor, your head spinning. Everything that just happened feels like a dream, but the tears streaming down your face tell you it’s all too real. You hear Kevin walk back into the room, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. He stands over you, looking down at you with an expression of disdain. 

“Are you pleased with yourself?” 

You wipe the tears from your eyes, looking up at him with defiance. But you can't find the words to defend yourself. “Of course you’re not. You’re pathetic. Crawling on the ground like a dog. Look at yourself. You’re a disgrace to our marriage.” 

You try to stand up, but your legs feel weak, like you’ll collapse at any moment. Kevin sneers at you, enjoying your helplessness. “Can’t even stand up straight, can you? You’re weak and pathetic. That’s why you ran back to him, isn’t it? You can’t handle being with a real man like me.” 

“You're disgusting! You fucking raped me! Your own wife!” You spit choked up. 

Kevin’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. His voice is low and dangerous. “Don't you dare call me a rapist. I’m the only one who has ever given you any pleasure.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are cold and calculating.  

“You have no idea what it means to be with a real man until you’ve been with me. You’ll never find anyone else who can satisfy you like I do. You’re mine, Y/N, and that piece of shit can never compare to the power I have over you.” Kevin’s thick cock strains against his pants, evidence of his arousal, as he moves you towards the bed, pushing you down on it roughly. 

As you land on the bed, you flinch, expecting a blow. But he doesn’t hit you. Instead, he unbuttons his pants, revealing his thick, hard cock. He steps between your legs, forcing them open, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs your ankles, pulling them up and onto his shoulders, exposing your wet, swollen pussy. 

 He licks his lips, his eyes filled with hunger. “You want this, don’t you, Y/N? You want me to bury my cock deep inside you and fuck you senseless.” He spits in his hand, rubbing it over your folds, before lining his cock up with your entrance. He looks at you, waiting for your response.  

“I’ll show you what it means to be with a real man and take everything you have to give.” He slowly pushes into your tightness, feeling you stretch around his cock. You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips, your body betraying you. “Now, tell me how much you need me, how much you love being my little whore.” He starts to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through your body, despite your protests. 

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me you’ll never choose anyone over me.” He slaps your ass, the sting making you gasp, as his cock fills you completely. You writhe beneath him, unable to deny the pleasure he gives you, even as you despise him for it. He fucks you harder and faster, each thrust slamming into your core.  

Your body arches, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to cling to something that isn’t his. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he grins, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “That’s it, take it. You know you love it, don’t you?” 

He reaches down, gripping your nipples, rolling and pulling them mercilessly. You cry out, your body bucking against his, as the pleasure builds within you. “Cum for me, Y/N. Cum right now, like the good little slut you are.” He spits into your mouth, forcing you to swallow it. You choke on the saliva, your senses overwhelmed. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let go.” He slams into you one last time, his cock throbbing as he empties himself inside you. You can’t hold back any longer, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. He collapses onto you, his warm breath on your neck as you both come down from your high. 

“That’s right, Y/N. You belong to me, completely and utterly.” He pulls out of you, his cock leaving a wet, sticky trail. He gets off the bed, leaving you feeling empty, used, and utterly defeated, as he begins to redress. “Now, you’ll think twice before you consider straying from me, won’t you?” 

Feeling shattered, like your mind is disconnected from your body. You don’t move, don’t speak, don’t even look at him. Your eyes are fixed on the ceiling, trying to mentally distance yourself from the nightmare your life has become. You lay there, your body trembling, tears streaming down your face.  

You hate this, the way he uses you, the way he makes you feel. But even as you despise him, you can’t deny the pleasure he brings. He walks over to the bed, grabbing a tissue to clean up the mess he’s made of you. After, he walks to the window, looking out at the city skyline.  

“You’ll never leave me, Y/N. Never. I own you, and you’ll always come back to me.” He turns back to face you, his eyes dark and calculating. You feel a shiver run down your spine, realizing that you are truly his, body and soul.  

“And as long as you’re under my roof, you’ll behave. You’ll be the perfect wife, the perfect little sex slave.” He smirks, satisfied with your submission. You want to protest, to fight, but the look in his eyes tells you it’s futile.  

“Now, get up. We have a party to attend.” He extends his hand towards you, waiting for you to take it. You know you have no choice but to obey. “Oh, and just so we’re clear, this isn’t over.” 

Reluctantly, you take his hand, allowing him to help you off the bed. Your body is sore, your mind a jumbled mess of emotions. You don’t even know who you are anymore. You follow him out of the bedroom, your footsteps feeling heavy and lifeless. He leads you into the bathroom, where a steaming hot shower awaits. He motions for you to get in.  

“Clean yourself up. You have exactly 30 minutes to get ready. And remember, I want you to look absolutely perfect for this party.” 

You nod, numbly heading into the bathroom. The hot water feels good against your skin, the steam engulfing you. You scrub yourself clean, trying to wash away the shame and disgust. But no matter how hard you try, the memory of what happened lingers, a sickening, bitter taste in your mouth. When the thirty minutes are up, you step out of the shower, shivering from the cold. Kevin is waiting, a towel in his hand, ready to wrap you in it.  

“Let’s get you dressed.” He motions for you to follow him back into the bedroom. He selects a dress from your closet, a tight, red number that shows off your curves. He helps you into it, making sure everything is perfect. Once you’re dressed, he steps back, appraising you.  

“You look beautiful, Y/N. Just how I like you.” He grabs your chin, turning your face to meet his. His lips brush against yours in a quick, possessive kiss. He takes your hand, leading you out the door and into the waiting limo.  

Constantine stands in the shadows, watching as you climb into the back of the limo with Kevin. He feels a pang of jealousy mixed with anger, seeing you so close to Kevin. Lucifer (John Milton) stands beside him, an expression of satisfaction on his face. 

Lucifer: “Well, well, if it isn’t the happy couple.” 

[97keanu]

i really need a kevin lomax smut

Tags/CW: corruption kink, some dub con, Kevin teases your body, innocent reader, angel!reader, Kevin knows he's demonic, intern!reader, age gap between reader and Kevin, demon magic hehe.

Demonic!Kevin Lomax who picked you, the innocent, angelic fresh graduate as his intern. He couldn't help but be drawn to you softness, your sweet doe eyes that want to believe in the good in people. You chose to be a defense attorney for that reason, so that you may protect those wrongly accused. What a good heart you have, it would be a shame if you let someone as evil as Mr. Lomax taint you...

Angelic!Reader who comes from a good, christian upbringing. Who went to Sunday school and never missed out on a sermon. Who helped out the community, and eventually fluttered away to law school, with bright eyes and white, powdery wings. Who doesn't know she's descended from angels, who has no idea that her new boss has been eyeing her from the moment he saw her. That Mr. Lomax would love to corrupt.

Demonic!Kevin who starts out slow, asking you to stay late, asking you to change your dress, buying you lavish clothes from name brands that you surely couldn't refuse despite how much of your breast is exposed, how much thigh can be seen. You question these choices, but Kevin's soft voice coaxes you into wearing such garments. You can hardly believe no one is staring when you go to your first courtroom case and your thigh high designer stockings can be seen.

Angelic!Reader who also can't believe how her boss looks at her during the case. Someone must be noticing this, but when you look around all you see is people devoting their attention to the case. Your mind bends as you try to understand what's happening. You feel yourself begin to imagine Kevin's hand moving to your supple thigh, slowly moving deeper and deeper towards parts of yourself you know he shouldn't be touching, let alone in public. It's so bold you gasp, and glance to see if anyone's heard you, but the prosecutor continues their opener.

Demonic!Kevin who knows exactly what he's doing to you. He can barely hold back, but forces himself to savor it. To savor your undoing. He reaches his large, firm hand even deeper, enough to wrap a finger around your, of course, white panties, and pull. He maneuvers them so the slide up your already wetting slit, pressing them in so your clit is being teased by little movements. It drives you wild, your breath catching, a hand reaching up cover a budding moan.

Angelic!Reader who knows not what magic makes this courtroom ignore the filthy things Mr. Lomax is doing to you. You feel him move closer, his warmth against your side, his free hand snaking around your shoulders to grip your aching breast. He keeps teasing your clit, your moans still hushed by a quivering hand. You hear his voice float in your ear, deep and husky. "Are you going to be a good little intern and pay attention to the case?" You can hardly keep your mind on what's going on, the words of the courtroom seeming so distant to what's happening to your body. You have given up trying to understand why no one seems to see Mr. Lomax violating you like this. You whisper out "No...please. I'm a good girl, I don't do things like this..." But you know the pleasure you're feeling is not worth giving up. Guilt wraps like a snake in your stomach, knowing you have saved yourself all this time despite what your friends at college did at parties you never went to, and now here you are, a moaning mess from the lightest of nudge.

Demonic!Kevin who loves how much you've come undone for him, now twitching under his slightest touch. He continues using your panties against you, letting go off his grip and changing it so he's now rubbing your clit with his nimble fingers over your panties. "I want to feel your wetness, even through your underwear, can you be a good girl and do that for me? You said you were a good girl..."

Angelic!Reader who can only buck her hips into his hand as response, then hears his hushing tone about how eager you are. You can hardly stand this teasing, you want his fingers against your skin. You need it, you don't know what's come over you, why its so easy to give him right now. You feel the courtroom slip away, despite Mr. Lomax's chiding tone to pay attention, be a good little assistant, this is important. How could you ever pay attention to the case when he has his hands between your legs and his trailing sucking kisses on your neck.

Angelic!Reader who moves Kevin's hand so he is now in your bra, his hand now having access to your hardening nipples. He chuckles in your ear, "You can barely contain yourself. I can't believe what a dirty slut my assistant has turned out to be. Maybe you're a bad girl afterall..." You shake your head, no, you're not a bad girl, you're not supposed to be like this. Your body is betraying you, your mind has come undone, and you have no way of stopping this treatment. All you can do is keep taking Kevin's touches, feeling when he finally foregoes your panties and dips his fingers into your wetness. He tells you how good you are for getting so wet for him, how you were hired for being able to follow any command, how much he wishes he was tasting you right now.

Demonic!Kevin who has you coming completely undone, who is relishing in how easy it was to make a pretty little angel like you fall. He can't hardly wait until he can be inside your warmth, but he holds himself back. He has to tame you first, open you up, get you ready for all that. He uses his fingers to play with your nipple and clit until you're a panting mess, moaning out protests when it feels best. Kevin can only keep giving, making sure you're completely putty in his hands before letting you cum. "Don't you dare cum I tell you to. Don't cum unless you're begging for my cock next." He growls in your ear, twisting your nipple as a threat of punishment.

Angelic!Reader who is so close to the edge now, who is twitching and twisting for more. Who wants to say no, you know you should stop all of this, but the words get stuck in your throat. "God...please..." You whisper and feel Kevin's hand enclose on your throat, tight, firm, but not rough. "He won't help a little slut like you, my angel. You've given into pleasure too much for that now. You better beg me to cum so you at least get something out of this." You begin to moan out freely now, no way to stop the feeling that keeps building up. You begin to stutter out Kevin's name with want, and he tells you what you have say to cum. You don't want to, you know begging for his cock is fully giving in, but your legs are shaking and you need this. You need this so badly...

Angelic!Reader who falls, who finally says "Yes.... Yes Mr. Lomax. Please make me cum, please give me your cock..."

Demonic!Kevin who obliges, who gives you exactly what you want until you're clamping your legs shut around his hand, bucking from how good it feels. He eats up every moan, every sensation you're feeling, enjoying how much he has corrupted you. He knows how badly you didn't want to give in, and loves to see you a panting tainted mess.

Angelic!Reader who is barely done cumming before you're snapped out of your trance. The courtroom comes back into play, and Kevin is saying your name. You see he's next to you, your shirt still buttoned, your skirt still where it should be. You can't fathom what happened, surely it wasn't all a day dream? It felt so real, and so easy to give in. "Already spacing out during your first case, Intern?" Kevin laughs quietly and chides you. You blush deeply as you realize what happened. You blush more when you realize your panties are still soaked.

[bbeelzemon]

honestly i dont even think i care about putting any specific name to any particular diagnosis for myself at this time. brains disorder is brain disorders man. i just cant see how it would matter what specific ~name~ someone assigns to Your Problems, when targeting the symptoms is pretty much always gonna be the best course of action for all of them anyway.? like why not just skip the middleman and address the symptoms directly . wouldnt that be a better approach over "well you could have 'brainsdisorder', but you could also have elusive ''looks like brainsdisorder' disorder', so watch out! but thankfully, the treatments are similar" like huh whuh. why does that distinction even matter in the first place then. truly WHO give a shit

[skitskatdacat63]

There's this Ukrainian guy in my one class and some guys are teaching him local slang right now LMFAOO

[clonesupport]

When you get this, post 5 songs 🎵 you actually listen to. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite people on here. ✨

hehehe hell yeah i get a second shot at this🤧ty!💕 another five here we go:

A Match Into Water by Pierce The Veil

Call Me Little Sunshine by Ghost

Sad Girl Summer by Cassyette

No Plan by Hozier

Freakin’ Out On the Interstate by Briston Maroney

👁👅👁

[mamaestapa]

OH forgot to add… the icebreaker fic with trevor zegras is an option too!