mandobatemans

[mandobatemans]

ATSV dividers [free] — 001 ✮⋆˙

˙⋆✮ feel free to use: like, reblog, requests or/and credit are appreciated ✮⋆˙

[mandobatemans]

y'all interested in a napoleon usher x reader ? 👀

[mandobatemans]

poe dameron blurb (f!reader)

warnings: public sex, NSFW UNDER THE CUT, poe may be slightly ooc but oh well

a/n: tbh the force awakens was on tv and i caught like 20 min of it and then decided to write this so happy kinktober

you really hadn't meant to be in this position. you had finished your mission on this planet, and were in the cantina, sharing drinks with some friends from the resistance. slowly, people excused themselves to head back to whatever lodgings they had found on the planet before everyone returned to base the next morning.

it wasn't even that you didn't have anywhere to go—poe had secured a room for you two in the inn down the street from the cantina. really, all that was to blame was the planet itself. you couldn't help it that this mission was on a desert planet, which was notoriously hot. it wasn't your fault that the heat meant poe had his shirt almost halfway undone, giving you a perfect, unadulterated view of the glistening beads of sweat dripping down the exposed skin. it also wasn't your fault that this mission had been so high-stakes that you hadn't had sex in a week.

so could you really be blamed when you let your hand rest on his inner thigh the whole time you were talking to your friends? or that you ignored his warning glance when you inched your palm higher? no. you couldn't.

now, here you were, pressed against the wall of the tiny cantina bathroom, poe balls deep inside of you, fucking you so good that the only thing keeping you upright was your cheek against the stone and poe's hands gripping your hips.

the bare skin you had been salivating over earlier was pressed against your back, and it was so hot you could feel the sweat sticking to you. but you didn't care. all you cared about was your boyfriend's thick cock slamming into you, a feeling you hadn't felt in a week.

poe kissed your neck, biting your ear lightly and making you squeal. you felt him smirk against your skin, and you reached out behind you to tangle a hand in his hair. you don't know where it came from, but while caught up in the pleasure of it all, you started rambling: "what time are we supposed to be back at base tomorrow? i think i promised rey i'd–"

"honey?" poe spoke up for the first time since you'd dragged him in the bathroom.

"hmm?"

"less talking. more fucking."

you smiled to yourself and nodded, having the wind knocked out of you when poe hit that spot inside of you that turned you into jelly. you focused on the wall again, trying to stifle your moans so the other patrons weren't privy to what was going on. or worse, if a member of the squadron had come back for some reason.

"gonna cum," poe said, shifting your weight to one arm while his other hand snaked around your front to play with your clit. "you first."

you whimpered, and poe caught you in a kiss, both to muffle your moans and to taste you. he felt you clench around him and he finished seconds later, kissing you through your aftershocks.

he rested his forehead against yours, kissing you softer and gentler now. "that's my good girl." he slowly pulled out of you, finding something in the bathroom to clean you both up with. "let's get you back to our room."

you still felt like jelly, which poe was used to. he smiled at you as you readjusted your clothes and held out his hand for you to take, which you did, obediently.

--------

once you were settled at the inn, snuggled in bed, poe answered your question. "we're expected back at base late afternoon tomorrow, and you promised rey you would–"

"poe?" you interrupted, rolling over to face him.

"yes, baby?"

"less talking." you shrugged off your side of the covers and straddled him. "more fucking."

[mandobatemans]

sorry for the lack of posts everyone i started grad school 😳

i'm gonna try to post whenever i have time (and energy) so if you sent a request & are waiting for it i'm sorry for the long turn around time!

love you guys! 💕💕

[mandobatemans]

hesitant!dom joel blurb

warnings: spanking, oral (f!receiving), NSFW UNDER THE CUT

A/N: this just sorta came to me and i had to get it out

he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, not quite sure he's heard you right. "you want me to what?"

he knows you'll drop it if he says he's not interested, but he loves you and you make him feel young again, so for you, he'll try anything once.

you blush under his gaze. "joel. i know you heard me."

"i'm makin' sure i heard you right," he responds.

sighing, you bury your face into his chest, blush now spreading across your entire face.

"hey, hey, c'mon now." joel lifts your chin so you're looking at him, and you become less embarrassed when you see the love in his eyes. "i just ain't ever heard of it before. but we can try." he presses a kiss to your forehead. "anything for you, darlin'."

--------------

minutes later, when joel has you over his knee, he thinks he gets it. he was still skeptical when his hand first came down on your ass cheek, but once he saw how the slick began to build between your folds almost immediately when his hand touched your skin, he was sold.

he spanks you until your ass is bright red, and then he lays you face down on the bed and kisses it better. and if his lips happen to trail over to your pussy, licking and sucking at your clit until you cum, gripping the bedsheets and screaming his name so loud you're scared all of jackson will hear it, then so be it. and if he cums in his pants at the sound of his name falling from your lips, then oh well.

so, yeah, he needs a little bit of convincing, but joel can see the benefits of spanking.

[mandobatemans]

nsfw headcanons (miguel o'hara x f!reader x peter b parker)

warnings: threesome, piv sex, oral sex, praise, NSFW UNDER THE CUT

word count: 422

A/N: there's no gifs of peter & miguel together that don't have mayday in them and it feels unethical to have mayday anywhere near this filth

•of course, miguel sets a whole bunch of ground rules before anything happens

• partially because he's a little possessive over you, but mostly because it’s his way of ensuring peter is going to take as good care of you as he does

• it's a little awkward at first, peter cracking jokes and miguel totally stoic

•they have their differences, but once they're focused on your pleasure, they work together like a well-oiled machine

• miguel pressed against your back, fangs dancing across your neck as his hands hold your hips in place

• peter kissing you, your face cradled in his hands as he thrusts into you gently

• both of them praising you in their own ways

• “that’s it. that's my good girl. you’re taking us so well, baby” from miguel

• “you feel so good. feels so good” from peter, whispered into the crook of your neck

• spidersuits have been discarded haphazardly across the room to be dealt with later

• miguel’s stripped your clothes off with practiced expertise and glares at peter when he takes too long getting undressed

• miguel’s gotten much better at sharing, but sometimes he lets his jealousy get the better of him if he thinks peter has had too long inside of you (mouth or pussy)

• “enough, peter,” he growls, staring down the other man until peter relents with a “fine, fine, whatever you say, miggy,” grinning when miguel narrows his eyes at the nickname

• miguel knows it's not a competition, but he can't help but get a little cocky when you whine out his name instead of peter’s

• don't take peter for granted, though. he knows what he’s doing with his mouth, making you come undone multiple times on his tongue

• they like having you on all fours, miguel slamming into you from behind while you take peter in your mouth

• they end up working so well together that sometimes it gets to be too much and you need a break

• they immediately let up and give you room to calm down

• when you're finished, they are the KINGS of aftercare

• one of them will go to get you water or a snack while the other will rub your wrists and hips to soothe the marks they've left there

• then, if you’re in someone’s bedroom, both climb into bed around you, one pressed to your front and one to your back like earlier, and cuddle you until you fall asleep

tagging people who liked/commented on my post about this pairing that tumblr will let me tag: @marvellover98 @mothmorales @go-whovian-universe @gigachadcowboy @hearts4peterb @qxuevoral

[mandobatemans]

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲 𝑷𝑯𝑹𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑺.

❛  that's it. that's my good girl / boy.  ❜ ❛  what a perfect pout you have.  ❜ ❛  you have the perfect lips for kissing.  ❜ ❛  i can't stop thinking about your ass.  ❜ ❛  i love the way you moan for me.  ❜ ❛  you always know just what i need.   ❜ ❛  i'm going to show you off to everyone.  ❜ ❛  take it for me, i know you can.  ❜ ❛  you really know how to use your fingers to get me off.  ❜ ❛  you have no idea what you're doing to me.  ❜ ❛  who's my beautiful girl / boy?  ❜ ❛  i'm so proud of you for taking me so well.  ❜ ❛  i love the way you look when you're on your knees.  ❜ ❛  you're such a pleasure to use.  ❜ ❛  you're so beautiful when you struggle for me.  ❜ ❛  look how hard / wet / aroused you get for me, perfect.  ❜ ❛  you take my cock so well.  ❜ ❛  one more for me, you're doing such a good job.  ❜ ❛  your body was made for me.  ❜ ❛  you want to be a good girl / boy for me, don't you?  ❜ ❛  what a sweet little treat you are.  ❜ ❛  you're doing so good. keep taking it ... just like that.  ❜ ❛  look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me.  ❜ ❛  you're such a good girl getting all wet for me. you're all mine, aren't you?  ❜ ❛  you look so precious when you're needy.  ❜ ❛  that's it, just let go. let yourself feel good.  ❜ ❛  i can't get enough of you and how you make me feel.  ❜ ❛  the sounds you make when i fuck you are so hot.  ❜ ❛  you give the best head i've ever had.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe how good you are at that.  ❜ ❛  there you go, just like that.  ❜ ❛  that feels good, doesn't it?  ❜ ❛  you're doing such a good job. i can't wait to fuck you.  ❜ ❛  don't hold back. let me hear how much you love it.  ❜ ❛  i'm going to come if you keep doing that.  ❜ ❛  say my name, i love the way you say it.  ❜ ❛  you're all mine to use, aren't you?  ❜ ❛  you can do it, just a little more.  ❜ ❛  now be a good girl / boy and come for me.  ❜ ❛  damn, you look so amazing right now.  ❜

[mandobatemans]

glasses (Steven Grant x fem!reader)

A/N: just a little blurb inspired by steven's glasses bc they make me feral

word count: 844

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

also posted to ao3

Whatever volume of his Steven was poring over was probably very important, something for work or his personal interest. What was very important to you at the moment was the way his glasses fell on the bridge of his nose, the way he would every so often bite his lip, getting lost in his thoughts, or the way his tongue danced over his lips to wet them. If it were Marc or Jake, they'd know exactly what their actions were doing to you. But this was Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven who had no concept of just how sexy every single thing he did was. He could roll up his sleeves a certain way and you'd be crawling out of your skin ready to jump him and be totally unaware. You loved that about him, but right now, all you wanted was for him to put the book down and study you on his desk instead.

He would follow the words on the page with his finger, your eyes trailing the movement from across the room. You had planned to walk to the park together and work on your separate activities while sharing a bench, like you often did, but the rain had other ideas. Your activity was long forgotten, thrown to the side in favor of watching Steven, but he was still engulfed in his, eyes devouring every word on the page except for every so often when he would stop to make a note.

He touched his finger to his tongue, wetting the digit to help him in turning the page. This by itself would have set you off, but coupled with the fact that he had looked up and smiled at you while doing so, totally unaware of the thoughts racing through your head, had you rushing across the room to him.

“Y’alright, love?” Steven asked, looking up at you over his glasses.

You nodded, eagerly, maybe too eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine.” You shifted your weight back and forth, unsure how to bring up the fact that you wanted him to pin you down and fuck you within an inch of your life.

Steven had closed his book and taken his glasses off, setting them down on the desk so he could better focus on you. “Are you sure? You look a bit jumpy.”

“Mhm, I just–” You paused when you saw Steven pause. He had the expression on his face that came when Marc or Jake were speaking to him.

When he returned to you, there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His eyes darted between you and where he had set his glasses.

You smiled inwardly, knowing one of the other boys had filled him in on what exactly had you so jumpy.

Steven stood, picking up his glasses and placing them on the bookshelf behind him.

“What are you doing?”

“One moment, darling,” he said, picking up the stacks of books cluttering his desk and moving them to the couch you had been sitting on earlier. Once he had moved them all, he lifted you up onto the desk where the books had been, slotted his body between your legs, and crashed his lips into yours.

You welcomed the feeling of him on you, the familiar heat of his tongue pressing into your mouth, and the weight of his body against your own. You grasped a hand in his hair and welcomed the moan he let out that was lost in between kisses.

- - - -

He had you on your back, both legs thrown over his shoulders, taking you apart with his tongue. Steven was gentle, and that's what was so tantalizing about it. No matter the pace he went, he always coaxed an orgasm out of you, if not multiple. And they were always mind-blowing.

As he licked inside of you, tongue curling the way his fingers would, his nose rubbed against your clit, still wet from the attention he had given it moments before. Steven liked to watch you come undone, partly because he loved looking at you, and partly so he could memorize every single expression you made as a result of his actions. He held your hand when you came, something he liked to do no matter what position you were in. It was sweet and intimate, a ritual during sex that you became accustomed, and even looked forward to, with Steven.

He rose from between your legs, hovering his body over yours so he could press kisses to your neck and shoulders. “You did so good, sweet girl.” Steven helped you sit up and readjust so your hips were almost hanging off the desk. He pressed his forehead to yours, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Can you take some more?” He asked, hand coming up to caress your cheek.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his palm, but interrupted him while his other hand went to undo his belt. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

You pointed to the bookshelf, and his eyes followed your finger. “Put the glasses back on.”

[mandobatemans]

another poll but:

would anyone read a miguel x reader x peter b 3sum fic? they've been on my mind 😈

[mandobatemans]

misc. character masterlist

The Corinthian (The Sandman)

Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons

Clement Mansell (Justified: City Primeval)

Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons

Tom Wambsgans (Succession)

Fics

Intrigue

[mandobatemans]

rahul kohli character masterlist

Sheriff Hassan

Headcanons

Miscellaneous

More Miscellaneous

Pregnancy

Fics

Giving Birth

Owen Sharma

Headcanons

Dying in Bly Manor

[mandobatemans]

pedro pascal character masterlist

Din Djarin

Blurbs

Post-fighting

Agent Whiskey

Fics

Mid-Flight Reassurance

Headcanons

SFW Alphabet

Joel Miller

Headcanons

SFW/NSFW Headcanons

Blurbs

Hesitant!Dom Joel

[mandobatemans]

oscar isaac character masterlist

Nathan Bateman

Fics

Home-Cooked Meal

Laying Out the Welcome Mat

Santiago Garcia

Headcanons

NSFW 

Poe Dameron

Fics

Blaster Play

Blurbs

Public Sex

Llewyn Davis

Fics

Morning Love Songs

Leto Atreides

Fics

Submit to My Rule

Submit to My Rule II

Orestes

Fics

To See You in Your Throne

Jonathan Levy

Fics

Age Gap

William Tell

Headcanons

Relationship Fluff

Fics

Sub!William

Miguel O'Hara

Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons Pt. II

Threesome (w/ Peter B. Parker)

Blurbs

Late Nights

Steven Grant

Blurbs

Glasses

[mandobatemans]

nsfw clement mansell headcanons

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, bondage, spanking, handcuffs, gun mention, public sex mention, cockwarming

word count: 648

also posted to ao3

A/N: whoever made the executive decision to have this man be in his underwear for 80% of his scenes pls contact me so i can thank you.

• this is literally canon in the show but this guy has a daddy kink

• like the biggest daddy kink ever seen on planet earth

• it bolsters his ego to have you be that submissive to him, and only him

• also likes to be called “sir” but not as much as “daddy”

• calls himself daddy: “daddy’s gonna make you feel real good, sugar.”

• but what really gets him going is when you say it, especially when begging

• sometimes you use it casually so only he can hear when you're out at a restaurant and he SLAPS cash on the table to pay the bill and get you in bed asap

• highest sex drive

• you’re genuinely surprised at how many rounds he can go

• even if you aren't actively having sex, he wants his cock in you

• likes to sleep spooning & cockwarming

• ideally, he likes it when you fall asleep on top of him, with him still inside you, but that's uncomfortable for you so you rarely do it

• obviously a dom

• you've seen how scary he can be to other people, but there's a side of him that's reserved only for you, where you know he’s not going to hurt you, he just loves how much control you let him have over you

• LOVES putting you over his knee

• into bondage for sure

• one time he tried tying you up, but he got too impatient messing with the rope, so now he uses handcuffs

• he bought the gaudiest, fuzziest, pinkest cuffs he could find, and every time he secured them around your wrists, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face

• likes cuffing your hands to the headboard so you can't touch him like you so badly want to

• also likes cuffing your hands behind your back when he's taking you from behind, because of the total sense of control he gets with you totally at his mercy like this

• when a heist or whatever related crime he’s decided to get up to goes well, his celebration is to fuck you

• if you happen to be there when he's actually committing the crime, sometimes he's so high off adrenaline that he wants to fuck you right then and there

• usually you tell him how stupid it is to fuck at a literal crime scene, but once or twice you've also been so caught up in it that you indulge him

• of course, he uses it as an excuse to cum inside of you, because “well, we can’t leave any evidence, now can we?”

• he once brought you a diamond necklace (you didn't ask how he’d gotten it) and fingered, fucked, and ate you out while you wore nothing but the necklace

• even if something goes poorly, his release is to fuck you

• he bursts into the apartment angry, and immediately has you pinned, your cheek pressed against the wall and his hips slamming yours so hard you’ll probably bruise

• on nights like these, he couldn't care less about your pleasure until he’s cum at least once

• after that, he might consider you, but often he’s much more focused on taking his anger out

• has fucked you in half of the bar bathrooms in the midwest

• you complain how nasty some of them are, but he clicks his tongue and says, “i’ve got you, baby girl” before lifting you up off the ground and hooking your legs around his waist

• if people complain about the noise, he’s got his gun shoved in your bag and is not afraid to point it at the intruder

• grabs your ass a lot in public

• he wants people to know who you belong to & he can't get enough of you

[mandobatemans]

please continue the miguel brain rot i am obsessed

well....since you asked.....

in honor of the movie coming out on digital: NSFW BELOW THE CUT

miguel blurb

also posted to ao3

he liked it when you begged. like, a lot. so much so that it made his dick twitch instinctively whenever your voice went up those couple octaves. normally you were whining for him to quit teasing and just fuck you already, and usually it was in the comfort of your bedroom.

right now, however, you were begging him to stop looking at his monitors and come home with you, as it was late. he knew you were right, that he'd been working too hard and it was long past time to head home. he was fully planning on listening to you...eventually. miguel was stubborn, and he wanted to tease you a little before agreeing to go home. plus. you just sounded so pretty when you were whiny.

"miggy, pleaaaase." you punctuated the sentence by wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your cheek against his back.

"mn," he responded, swiping through a screen. he really had intended to listen to you, but it looked like there was an anomaly lyla had missed.

"please take me home," you murmured into his toned back. when he moved even a little, you could feel the muscles flex. you could probably feel his thigh muscles flex, too, if you just reached your hand down a little...

"ey, ey, mi vida." he grabbed your wrist, twisting around so he was looking down at you. miguel towered over you, just as he towered over most everybody, but you weren't at all frightened. you knew he was playing a game, and it was one you two had played many times before. "¿qué estás haciendo?"

"you won't come home. i want you to come home," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

he returned your kiss, a teasing smile growing on his face. "oh, is that all you want? just for me to come home?"

you pulled back, frowning up at him. "miguel."

he could never resist you for too long. he picked you up effortlessly and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his middle, both of you smiling into your kiss. your hands were all over him—in his hair, on his back, his chest. and you being so needy stirred something inside of him, something that made you even more irresistible than you already were.

he genuinely wasn't sure if he could wait until you got home to have you. walking through hq, the portal, walking up the stairs to the apartment. it was all wasted time that could be better spent with him inside of you.

miguel wasn't normally a public sex kind of person. he had a reputation to uphold at the spider society and also, he didn't want anyone else to witness your pleasure the way he got to. this time, however, it was late. hq was empty except for the two of you and maybe one or two spider-people in the cafe. but nobody would come in here at this hour.

he fucked you across every inch of his office that night.

[mandobatemans]

if y'all have any duke leto requests,,,,,,,,,send em over

Extremely stunning photos of Oscar Isaac as Duke Leto ♡

© Chiabella James

[mandobatemans]

intrigue (Tom Wambsgans x f!reader)

warnings: infidelity, fingering, unprotected piv sex, soft!dom tom, size kink kinda, biting, greg, do NOT have sex with the head of conservative news organizations irl!!!, i am a shivcel fr anything negative abt shiv in here i didn't mean it ily siobhan 🫶, NSFW UNDER THE CUT

word count: 4,740 (i got carried away)

A/N: this is loosely based on s4 e7 but there's no real timeline so it probably takes place like somewhere around season 3 or 4? this is my first succ fic so...enjoy 🤗 & also this took me SO long to write i'm so deeply sorry to anyone who was waiting

also posted to ao3

Tom had never been a fan of the whole “open marriage” arrangement. When he thought back to that fateful night (fateful night…who else would say that about their wedding night?) what he remembered most was the look on Shiv’s face when she told him that she wanted an open marriage. On their wedding night.

It was more for Shiv anyway. Tom rarely thought about actually acting on the arrangement, whether it be out of love for Shiv or loyalty to her father, he wasn’t sure. Sure, he had kissed someone here or done oral there when high on coke, but he had never actually fucked anyone else.

Something was different, though, tonight. Firstly, they were hosting a Waystar/ATN event at their apartment, and despite being chairman of ATN, he wasn't even sure what the evening was for. Shiv had told him about it last minute, casually mentioning it as they were being driven to work, like it was dinner at Logan’s rather than hundreds of media moguls and politicians to host. Actually, dinner at Logan’s felt equally, if not more, important than tonight. A better equivalent for how nonchalantly Shiv had mentioned it would be Connor inviting them somewhere.

Secondly, Shiv had suggested, outright, that they both find someone to hook up with at the party tonight. Earlier in their bedroom, after getting dressed in silence, Shiv had turned to Tom while putting her earrings in to share the idea. He knew she would be acting on it whether or not he did, and why shouldn’t he? It had been a while since he had gotten laid and was verbally (and physically) assaulting Greg a lot more as a result.

Did he just pick someone? How did you approach someone and say, “Hey, I’m in an open marriage but I’ve never actually done anything more than get my dick sucked with anyone else…anyway, let’s fuck!”

Tom fidgeted with his glass as he surveyed the room.

Despite your personal beliefs and the endless human rights violations that Waystar was affiliated with, their (and by extension ATN) events were some of the most lavish you'd ever attended. As a political journalist, it was standard for your company to send a journalist or two to whatever soirée the Roys were throwing. Everyone took turns, and this time you had drawn the short straw. It hadn’t been too bad so far, you thought, although perhaps you were jinxing yourself. You had kept to yourself mostly, chatting with other journalists you frequently saw around the city on assignments, snacking on the hors d'oeuvres, and listening to the ridiculous conversations political and media bigwigs were having.

You had been to an event hosted by the Roys before, but they were usually at ATN, Waystar, or some expensive venue. Being invited as a member of the press to Shiv Roy’s apartment felt strangely intimate. You were certain this was some calculated business move on the part of one Roy or the other, but you honestly didn’t really care. Whatever drama was happening within Waystar Royco was contained within the Roy family. You were simply here to supplement a piece your coworker was writing on the atmosphere of this political season.

It was only an hour into the party when you had collected all the quotes and interviews you needed, and sampled almost all of the hors d'oeuvres. Your boss expected journalists to stay for most, if not all, of the night for these things, in case some political bombshell were to happen. You were pretty sure nothing too monumental was going to happen in this room full of suits, especially with all of the Roys notably absent from the festivities. Even Shiv, whose house it was, looked like she wasn't paying any attention to what was going on in her home. In fact, she had been in the corner all night, talking to some prominent New York and D.C. women, important enough that you knew their faces but not important enough for you to attach any names to them.

You checked your phone for the time. You could probably get away with leaving in another hour if you made up some family emergency as an excuse for your editor. Even another hour seemed like ages. Maybe you could re-interview some people? Speak to some guests whose quotes would never make it in the article just to kill time? Sighing, you opened your messages, thumbs hovering over the chat with your editor, putting your journalism degree to use by brainstorming an excuse to get you back home in your bed before ten o’clock. When you turned around to pace while you typed (a nervous habit), you found yourself face-to-face with one of your hosts.

It felt like a fucking cliché. Literally bumping into someone at a party? If one of your writer friends wrote something like this, you'd tell them it was bullshit and things like that didn't happen in real life. Yet here you were, inches away from–

“Tom Wambsgans, Chairman of Global Broadcast News at ATN.” He introduced himself, reaching out a hand for you to shake.

You returned the handshake, grateful that he wasn’t offended by you bumping into him. “I know who you are.”

“And I know who you are.” He paused. “That sounded stalkerish, didn’t it? I meant, I know who you are because I’ve read your articles.”

“You have?” You were surprised. Your company and your articles in particular were considered left-leaning, the very opposite of the stories ATN ran.

He nodded. “Gotta keep up with the competition. I’ve seen some of your features on the network, as well.”

“Really? I would have thought you would just watch ATN all day,” you teased.

Tom made a face and then shook his head. “No, no, no. Plus, I wouldn’t really call any of our journalists ‘journalists’ so much as pretty faces. You do your own research and look good on the camera. That’s impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow and Tom’s eyes widened, processing what he had just said.

“God, I do sound like a fucking stalker.”

You laughed, “Just a little bit.” You let him cringe for a second, then smiled to reassure him. “No, but I’ve seen some of your interviews since you took over ATN. You look good on the camera, too.” You paused, before adding, “Maybe that makes us both a little stalkerish.”

His eyes lit up at your response, earning a genuine laugh (the first one that night not faked for some suit, he noted).

“Uh, sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't looking where I was going,” you explained, waving your phone in your hand for context.

“Ah, cell phone. The curse of the twenty-first century.”

You furrowed your brow involuntarily for a moment. He wasn't how you expected the spouse of a Roy to be like. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, you weren't yet sure.

“I’m making a huge ass of myself, aren't I?” He sighed. “I’ll leave you to the party–”

“No! It’s okay. Stay,” you heard yourself say. It was Tom’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Okay. You found him attractive. And even despite his eccentric comments, you also found yourself wanting to talk to him more. You were, however, purposely avoiding looking at the wedding ring on his finger.

To Tom, it all seemed too perfect. You, for example. He was being honest when he said he had seen and read some of your work and that he enjoyed it, and he did sometimes watch other networks to get an idea of the competition, but he had left out the fact that there was something about you in particular that made him watch the entire segment when you happened to be on air. And the fact that sometimes he'd scroll through your articles online and imagine you reading them aloud to him. But he wasn’t a stalker. And now you were here, in his house, on the night that his wife had all but shoved him into the bed of anyone that he wanted.

But still; one pleasant, slightly flirtatious conversation didn't mean you wanted to ride off into the sunset with him. Or, more accurately, go upstairs with him.

He scanned the room for Siobhan. Although it had been her suggestion, and he knew she had acted on the arrangement before, he still felt like it was somehow a trap. Like she’d hire someone to hide behind the bedroom door that night and catch him with his pants down (literally) to use as blackmail.

But sure enough, she was across the room, laughing at something some lobbyist had said, and resting her hand on the other woman’s arm slightly longer than a casual touch would last.

The longer he thought about it, the more confident he felt. If you were interested, he wanted to spend the night with you. And maybe more. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“It's kind of loud over here. Come on,” he gestured with his head toward the opposite corner of the apartment, one not occupied by any guests save for an elderly politician snoring on the couch.

You followed him, nodding when he asked if you wanted another drink before picking a champagne flute off of a passing server’s tray. He handed it to you once you reached the corner, your hands touching during the exchange. It seemed like even more of a cliché to feel sparks fly at this tiny touch, so you ignored that, as well.

“You host these kinds of things often?” You asked, leaning against the wall and taking a sip of your champagne. The room was full of very important people, though none of them seemed to be talking about very important things. You couldn't quite wrap your head around why a high-level executive who had married into one of the largest media conglomerates was wasting his time talking to you (flirting with you?), but you had seen stranger things in this city.

He grimaced and shook his head. “No, no. I’m usually just a guest.” Tom laughed and took a sip of his drink. “And not a very important one, at that.”

“I’m sure that's not true. I mean, how many people watch ATN? And you’re in charge of what airs or doesn't air.”

“1.89 million,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, “Outside of the office, nobody’s really worried about what I think.”

“Not even your wife?” You stopped after you said the words, giving your brain a second to catch up with your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect, I–”

“No, no, no, no, it’s okay,” he assured you, reaching out to rest a hand on yours consolingly. Tom leaned in closer so only you would hear him, unnecessary considering the secluded corner you two were in.

“But no, not even my wife.”

Your eyes darted to his hand atop yours, suddenly aware of how large his hands were. They almost completely covered yours, and they felt so comfortable and right there, like–

“We have an open marriage,” he suddenly said.

“Oh.”

Tom seemed disappointed with this reaction, quickly removing his hand from yours and adding, “That’s just to say that, our marriage is, uh, unconventional, so her not caring what I have to say isn’t that unusual.”

You were still processing the feel of his hand on yours, much less the revelation that he actually might be flirting with you and that it actually might go somewhere. By the time your thoughts caught up with you, it seemed like he was about ready to excuse himself and go scream at his reflection in the bathroom.

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” you responded, mirroring his gesture from before and resting your hand on top of his to comfort him. “You don’t deserve that, really.”

He scoffed. “You don't know what I deserve.”

You looked up at him, taking the time to absorb the look in his eyes that revealed just how much he was going through.

“Uh, Tom?”

Tom rolled his eyes and turned away from you to snap at the source of the interruption. “What, Greg? Can’t you see I’m having a conversation?”

“It’s just–well, Shiv is leaving with someone.” The taller man gestured at the door, where sure enough, Shiv was weaving her way through the crowd toward the elevators with the lobbyist from earlier, her hand guiding her by the small of her back.

Tom bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, Greg, we do have an open marriage. So, everything’s fine. Now, scram.”

Greg looked between the two of you and hesitated for a second before nodding and disappearing back into the bustle of the party.

Tom turned back to you. “That’s Shiv’s cousin, Greg. I’ve sort of taken him under my corporate wing, so to speak. Showing him the ropes and all that.”

You nodded, finishing your champagne.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” you echoed.

He paused for a minute, though it seemed to last much longer than that. “You’re writing an article about this party, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded, unsure of where he was going with this.

Tom leaned in, lowering his voice. “What would your editor say if you got a behind-the-scenes look at the party?”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Of course, you'd have to come upstairs…” Something shifted in his tone. You were well aware of what the change implied, and you’d be lying if you said you didn't want to jump at the offer. This wasn’t you, though. Sleeping with a married man? On top of that, not just any married man, but the host of the party that you were covering for work. It sounded like a problem you’d encounter on an Intro to Ethics exam. But any moral qualms you had about the issue were pushed out of your head when you registered the way Tom was looking at you.

“Of course,” you repeated, nonchalantly, setting your empty champagne glass on a nearby table.

Something flickered in Tom’s eyes. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Wambsgans,” you replied, gesturing dramatically.

Neither of you spoke for the entire walk away from the excitement of the party to the quiet of Tom’s bedroom. It looked much like you had expected it to look: modern, chic, and impersonal. You were sure Tom (or Shiv) had some personal items somewhere in the house, but the bedroom was so clean and styled that the only indication anyone slept or dressed in there was some of Shiv’s makeup and jewelry strewn haphazardly on the vanity.

When he had closed the door behind you, Tom stepped closer to you experimentally, as if he was afraid you'd flee like a wild deer if he moved too fast. You stepped closer as well, which seemed to give Tom the permission he was looking for. Within seconds, his mouth was on yours, his hands cupping your face, all tongue and teeth. There was hunger and desperation in the kiss, but it was hypnotizing, beckoning you deeper and deeper. He was almost doubled over to reach you (god, he was tall), so you shifted your weight to stand on your tiptoes.

Tom broke the kiss, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

He shed his suit jacket, throwing it carelessly on the floor. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Tugging on the length of his tie, he loosened it enough to undo a few buttons at his collar, revealing an inviting expanse of chest hair.

“Turn around,” he told you, snapping you out of your male-stripper-fantasy gaze.

You did as he said, something in his tone going straight to your core. You felt him run his hands from your shoulders down your arms, then down your hips and up to your waist, the action bunching up the fabric of your dress. He moved your hair to the side, pressing hot kisses to your neck that made your eyes roll back.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered, his lips trailing up to your ear.

You nodded in response, trembling momentarily under his touch. Tom unzipped your dress, helping you push it down your body and step out of it. He unhooked the back of your bra without moving further. It occurred to you then how wrong this was, to be sleeping with someone else’s husband in their own bedroom, but to your surprise, you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the heat of Tom’s gaze on your bare back. You took your bra off the rest of the way and discarded it on the ground next to your dress. Once in only your underwear, you turned back around to face him, watching his eyes follow every curve of your body to drink in the newly exposed skin.

“Wow,” he said, simply, reaching out to grab you by the hips and pull you closer to him. “You’re gorgeous.”

Grinning, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again, cradling his face in your hands. You felt him smile back into your kiss. Before you knew it, he had you pressed against the wall, totally enclosed by his larger form. He went from kissing you on your lips to your neck to behind your ear to your chest, as if he couldn't decide which spot deserved the most attention or for how long.

One of his hands slid down to the waistband of your underwear, the cold metal of his wedding ring a shock against your hot skin. You made eye contact with him as his hand slipped between the fabric and your skin cup your cunt, whining when you felt his touch. He seemed to get off on that, capturing you in a kiss again at the same time he slipped a digit into your wet heat. You were too hot; you pressed your hand to his chest to stabilize yourself and pushed your underwear down your legs and kicked them off. Tom smiled at this, getting right back to pumping his finger in and out at a pace that almost made you melt down the wall.

It was probably a power trip thing, you thought, you totally naked and him almost fully clothed. You didn't mind because it was kinda hot, but it wasn't what you had expected from Tom based on the unassuming, Midwestern image of him that was circulated in columns and by the Roys themselves. But, then again, you hadn't expected to find yourself in this position at all when you left your apartment earlier that night.

The pace of his fingers felt so good, so intoxicating, that now that you had him, you needed more of him.

“A-another one,” you whined between kisses.

When you opened your eyes to look at him, Tom had a smug look on his face. Sure, it was arrogant, but it turned you on, so who really cared? “Yeah?” he asked, “You want another one?”

“Tom,” you hissed, gripping onto his shoulder as his finger curled in just the right way that it made your legs go numb.

The look remained on his face, but he added another finger nonetheless. Tom appeared to inhabit both extremes when it came to sex: he really wanted to pleasure you but he also really wanted to do what he wanted. Luckily, those two wants aligned.

He was making you feel so good that you needed to have more of him. Your kisses got sloppier, each so desperate to be further molded with one another that your tongues tried to push impossibly further into the other’s. Tom shifted his hand so he could angle his thumb to rub slow, tantalizing circles on your clit as he continued to pump his fingers. Your grip on his shoulder tightened–you feared your fingernails would leave dents in his skin–but like so many other things tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could feel the pressure rising in your middle, your cunt clenching around his fingers in anticipation of your impending orgasm, but then it stopped.

You opened your eyes that you hadn't realized were squeezed shut to look at Tom, who had his hand in front of your face, fingers glistening with your slick. “Open,” he encouraged. You obeyed, accepting his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean with a ‘pop.’ He stared at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. He jerked his head toward the bed. “Sit.”

There was authority in his commands, but you didn’t fear him; from the short amount of time you had spent with him, you knew he was at his core a sweet man. You would admit to yourself that you had been curious how his awkward, nervous energy would translate into the bedroom, but once alone, he seemed to be a different man.

You watched him strip off the rest of his clothes eagerly, smiling up at him once he rejoined you on the bed totally naked. He must’ve noticed you staring, because he asked: “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You shrugged, shifting your eyes back up to his own. “No, it’s okay. I'm on birth control.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. I don't even know if I have one in here.”

“Then why’d you ask?” You laughed, encouraged by the smile that crossed his face when you did so.

“Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. If you said yes, I would’ve sent someone to go get one or borrowed one from–”

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“Just fuck me already.”

“Alright. If you say so,” he teased, leaning down over you to kiss you. Both your lips were red and puffy from all the kissing and some biting, but it didn’t matter. You could feel his cock pushing against your stomach from the angle, so you reached down to take him in your hand and pump his length.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your skin, face buried in your neck as he pressed kisses to the every inch of available flesh, “Fuck…Can I?”

“Please,” you responded, noticing a little desperate hitch in your voice that you ignored. Tom licked his hand and cupped your sex with it, running the pads of his middle fingers through your folds a few times to collect the wetness between your legs. Gently, he guided his length into your opening

inch by inch, watching your face for any sign of discomfort before bottoming out.

You should’ve expected his dick to be big from his height, the size of his hands, his nose, whatever, but you hadn’t considered just how big. It was quite a stretch to take him fully, but he gave you all the time you needed to adjust and get comfortable. When you were ready, you bucked your hips up into his to give him the okay.

Tom took your permission to move and ran with it, grabbing your left leg and placing it over his shoulder before pressing you down further into the mattress with his body weight so he could thrust into you at a deeper angle.

You lifted your head to meet him to return to making out, the sensation of his tongue down your throat even more erotic now that he was inside of you, as well.

His thrusts were deep but not as aggressive as he had been with his fingers. He wouldn’t vocalize this, or even admit to himself that he was thinking this, but he wanted this to last. As much as it was supposed to be a hookup–emotionless sex–he found himself wanting it to happen again, despite his attempts to push those thoughts deep into the recesses of his mind.

One arm was thrown around Tom’s neck, hand gripping a fistful of his hair. Your other hand went down to your clit, beginning to rub circles to match the pace of his thrusts.

“You wanna cum again?” He teased, “Again, when I haven't cum once?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully, slipping your finger down from your clit to lightly stroke the length of his cock that wasn't fully inside of you.

He let out a moan, eyes twinkling as he snapped his hips a little harder, snickering when you gasped in response.

Tom caught you in another kiss, resting his weight on his forearm that was positioned next to your head. You arched your back up into him, urging him deeper, which he obliged. “Touch yourself,” he said, disconnecting his mouth from yours just long enough to give the command.

You smiled into his lips, rubbing your clit again as his thrusts became sloppier and jerkier. He was holding on until you came again, despite his earlier cockiness. The moment he felt your walls tighten around him, he let go, spilling inside of you with a grunt.

He pulled out, rolling off of you to lay beside you.

Tom was still catching his breath, and you watched his chest heave for a few moments. “Hey, you okay?” He asked. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, nodding and reaching over to kiss him again. “I'm good, yeah. You?”

“Perfect, actually.” Tom smiled back at you. He found himself lost in the moment, lost in your eyes, lost in the connection you two had just had, and it was too much for him. Quickly, he sat up, ready to change the subject. “You need to clean up?”

You furrowed your brow at the sudden shift in his demeanor, but going along with it nonetheless. Despite him just having been inside you, you didn't feel like it was your place to mention the change. “Yeah. Can I?” You asked, gesturing vaguely toward the bathroom.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Go ahead. Towels are above the sink.”

You flung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll just clean off real quick, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No, no, no. I mean, you can stay the night. If you’d like, that is. I could call you a car, though, if I’ve made some awful faux pas and you don’t want to look at me for another–”

“Tom.” He focused on you again after his brief spiral. “I would like to stay.”

He grinned. “Great, that's great.”

“Just let me–” You waved your hands around your lower body, “–clean all this up.”

“Yeah, of course, sure. I’ll be here.” He added the last part in a quasi-sing-song voice.

At the sound of the shower turning on, Tom rose to locate his clothes and try to clean up. He pulled his boxers back on, taking his dress shirt, pants, & jacket to be thrown into the hamper. They really should be dry-cleaned, he considered, but found that he couldn’t be bothered. As for your clothes, he wasn’t sure what exactly to do with them, so he laid your dress across a chair in the bedroom and left your bra and underwear on the floor. He was still considering whether he should pick them up or not when you came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your torso.

Once you had dressed in your undergarments again and Tom had given you an undershirt to sleep in, you started to wonder what all this meant. If it had just been a hookup, why were you staying the night? You had thought you’d feel dirty and disgusted with yourself, spending the night in someone else’s bed with someone else’s husband, but you didn’t. You didn’t know what that said about you, what it meant that you were perfectly comfortable talking into the night with Tom, both laughing and sharing stories long after you had agreed to turn the lights off and get some sleep. That almost made it worse, you thought, that it wasn’t just sex. That made it dangerous.

After you had drifted off, Tom spent a few minutes watching you sleep. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, watching the worries of the day wash off your face while you slept. He knew it was wrong to be more comfortable in this bed with you than he was with his own wife. But that was something to deal with (or repress) in the morning. Here, now, with you wrapped in his and Shiv’s bedsheets, your form against his chest rising and falling with his breaths, he could pretend it was meant to be like this.

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