#nathan bateman x you

[the-witheredroses]

Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)

CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.

(Lmk if you want more in the future)

Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse

Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.

So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.

Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.

You’re in his office? Bend over.

You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.

Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.

Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.

If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.

His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.

Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.

When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.

“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight

Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.

Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.

Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.

He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.

His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.

When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.

Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.

“You did so good for me, darling…”

Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.

But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.

Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.

Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.

His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.

Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.

He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?

Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.

He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.

“So pretty… so pretty…”

Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.

As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.

He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.

Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.

Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.

He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.

Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.

“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”

All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.

Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.

Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.

Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3

Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.

Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.

“Our beautiful darling…”

Basil Stitt - Lightningface

Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.

Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.

He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.

Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.

As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.

He needs you to feel good. He needs you.

When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.

His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.

“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”

Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick

Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.

Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.

Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.

Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.

Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.

Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.

Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like— he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.

Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.

“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”

Blue Jones - Sucker Punch

Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.

He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.

You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.

Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.

With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.

Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.

Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.

You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.

When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.

“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.

Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.

After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.

As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.

He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.

Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.

With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.

His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.

When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.

“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”

Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina

Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.

This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.

The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.

You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.

As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.

Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.

His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.

He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.

His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.

When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.

“Get up. It’s my turn.”

Duke Leto Atreides - Dune

Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.

Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.

Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.

He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.

Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.

He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3

His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.

Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.

When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.

When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.

“I still have time, shall we go for another?”

Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)

John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.

He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.

John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.

Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.

With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.

His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.

John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.

At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.

He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.

Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.

John pats his shoulder.

“Come, rest your head.”

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.

He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.

You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.

He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.

As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.

As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.

When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.

“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”

—————————————————

Thanks for reading!

Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight x you #basil stitt smut #basil stitt x reader #anselm vogelweide smut #anselm vogelweide x reader #blue jones smut #blue jones x reader #blue jones x you #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #duke leto atreides smut #duke leto atreides x reader #duke leto atreides x you #prince john x reader #prince john smut #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #oscar isaac characters #smut

[spacecowboyhotch]

Again

about this: nathan bateman x f!reader. contents: 18+/nsfw/minors dni, smut, wife kink, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, nathan the asshole simp™️. wc: 1031. an: my brain plagued me with this thought at like 12 am. here it is.

oscar issac characters masterlist

This is not how you anticipated your time in the garden would pan out. The sun hangs high in the sky, a soft breeze swirling in the air. You’d been halfway done with your task of weeding and watering the garden when Nathan sauntered down the steps of the front porch.

“Can I help you?” You ask, glancing over at him.

He holds up his hands, rounding his eyes with innocence. “Can’t a man ogle his wife?”

You should’ve known then and there that he was up to no good. Slowly but surely, Nathan gets closer and closer. With each step your blood rises, your heart thumping steadily in your ears. Until his lips are ghosting your temple, beard tickling at your skin.

Now, despite that cooling breeze, you are warm. There’s pure, overwhelming heat coupled with sparking pleasure. You’re surrounded by it, drowning in it and there’s no place you would rather be.

“Nathan,” You breathe, the sound of your voice feeling miles away.

You hear a deep hum, the scratch of his beard against your thighs, and then an inhaling breath. When you sit up on your elbows to gaze down at him, Nathan’s dark brown eyes glitter back at you. His mouth and beard shine with your slick as his lips curl into a smirk.

He wags his eyebrows, voice so soft and sweet as he asks, “What is it, honey?”

“I was doing something,” You huff, still out of breath though his work has stopped momentarily.

It’s not lost on you how this would look from another point of view. Your panties in a heap in the grass, sundress bunched around your breasts. Nathan rutting into the ground as he sips from between your legs like it’s the fountain of life. There are tools and weeds spread about, dirt smeared on skin and clothing alike. You two are the definition of a dirty, horny mess.

Nathan’s smile widens into something as beautiful as it is arousing, sending a shiver up your spine. “And now, you’re doing me. Lay back, I’m making my wife cum.”

You don’t have the discipline to object, not that you want to. Nathan had brought you to the precipice of your peak just to tease you down more than once, and now you’re wound tight, ready for release.

Nathan slides into you with practiced ease, bending to capture your mouth with his own, moans melting into each other’s. His hips move against yours, gently but relentlessly, withdrawing completely before pressing in as far as your body will take him.

You let your legs fall open wider, clutching at his shoulders to stay as steady and still as possible, wanting it just like this, just how he’s giving it to you. He dusts kisses on any part of you he can reach as he continues to fuck you— your cheeks, jaw, neck, coveting every inch of you.

“That’s it, baby, let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good like I’m s’pose to. That’s what I’m for, hmm? To make my wife cum. Give her whatever she wants.”

“Nathan, please. I need you, need more,” You beg softly.

He gets two of his fingers wet, snaking them between you so that he can rub softly at your clit. “I need you too, honey. C’mon, I know you can cum for me. Can’t you?”

“Yes. Mhmm, I can,” You nod, eyes wild with lust when you gaze up at him.

“Your pussy’s so fucking good, baby. Perfect fucking wife with the perfect little pussy. Gonna make me fill you up,” He groans, his voice growing more hoarse as he slowly unravels.

His cock, his praise, his filth— they wind you tight, tight, tight, until you cum, clenching around his cock as you call out his name. Nathan lets out a breath gasp and then he’s filling you to the brim, whispering into your ear how much he loves you.

He kisses you until you’re both breathless and only then does he pull out to clean you both up. Nathan helps you into your panties and smooths your sundress back into place before refastening his jeans and snaking an arm around your waist. The two of you lay in content silence besides the occasional chirp of a bird and your mingling breath.

Suddenly he asks, “Do you wanna get married?”

You nearly choke on your laughter, turning your head to look over at him, “We are married, you made it very clear in the filth you were spewing at me.”

He ignores your teasing, his brows are drawn together so you know he’s serious. “Again. Do you want to get married again?”

“Nathan, that wedding was a fortune.”

“Who gives a fuck how much it costs,” He scoffs, pulling you more firmly onto his chest. “I don’t mean like that. I mean just me and you. The guy who guides the bullshit.”

“The bullshit, huh?”

“You know what I mean. What do you think?”

You frown, leaning back a little bit to look him in the eye. “I thought you liked our wedding.”

“Honey, I fucking loved our wedding,” He reassures you easily, smoothing a hand over your cheek.

“Then why again?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you again?”

His answer completely floors you. Your heart melts. Soft and gooey, completely pliable and completely his. You’d ask him to marry you if he wasn’t already yours if he hadn’t already asked you for the second time. You can see that your speechlessness is starting to get in his head, and he opens his mouth to say something.

You quickly cut him off with a kiss, murmuring against his lips, “I love it when you get all sentimental.”

There is no denying the soft flush in his cheeks, “Hush.”

“Yes, Nathan, I’ll marry you again. Can we do it here?” You gesture around to the garden.

“Can I do you here?” He asks suggestively, that charming smirk gracing his face again.

“You already did.”

“Again,” He whispers into your ear before he starts to suck kisses into the skin of your neck.

“Again,” You breathe in agreement, blinking up at the blue sky once more.

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina #ex machina fanfiction #x reader #not sfw #arson writes

[alwaysmicado]

predator & prey

8.6k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: consensual non-consent, restraints, manhandling, face slapping, hard choking, rough p in v sex, biting, creampie, pain kink, degradation/praise, subdrop, aftercare, soft(ish) Nathan Summary: Nathan fulfills your fantasy of being taken in the woods. Can you handle it? A/N: Living in the middle of nowhere has its perks...Can be read alone or as an extension of in control. I'm so beyond excited to finally share this with you!! It's been wreaking havoc in my brain for months now. Enjoy the ride and let me know what you think! 🖤

As the last rays of the setting sun dip below the horizon, casting the world into a deep indigo hue, Nathan grabs the neatly folded pile of clothes, your trail running shoes, and his backpack. Still in your sweats, you’re taken aback when he steps into your office, his hand finding your shoulder.

“Put these on,” he tells you, his voice betraying no particular emotion. He hands you a pair of jeans in your size and an oversized, white t-shirt, along with a nude bra and panties. You swallow and look up at him, catching the subtle glint in his eyes. 

“Time to go.” 

You dress as instructed, your fingers deftly lace up your shoes, and the two of you set off. 

The crisp air gently nibbles at your cheeks, and the faint glow of twilight casts a soft ambiance as the crunch of leaves and gravel beneath your feet echoes through the stillness around you. The air holds a charged energy, and each one of your steps carries a weight of anticipation. Your muscles are tense, your senses heightened, acutely aware of what lies ahead. 

Nathan’s demeanor is casual. He’s smiling, asking about your day, about the project that’s been giving you a headache for the past two weeks. You give him a semi-honest answer, admitting that you’ve been stressed, but omitting the fact that you’ve cried yourself to sleep over it more than once.

“You’ll figure it out,” he reassures you with a soft smile. Your furrowed brow meets his confident gaze, and for a moment, you study his face. He’s sincere.

You’re used to discussing your work with Nathan, it’s what you’re living with him for, after all. And despite your…complicated relationship with him, he has never questioned your professional skills.

That’s all on you. Your perfectionism is draining.

As you reach the edge of the woods after a half-hour march along the river, darkness begins to cloak you like a shroud. The trees whisper secrets, and the unknown looms like a specter in the night. Nathan activates the small portable light attached to his backpack, rolls his shoulders, and fixes his gaze on you.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and excitement courses through your veins, fueled by a potent blend of curiosity and trepidation. 

“You know what’s about to happen,” he says calmly, tilting your chin up with his gloved fingers to search your eyes. “Take a deep breath. We’re not starting until you’re ready.” 

You take a moment to gather yourself, inhaling the grounding scent of earth and pine, your eyes locked onto his.

“Choose a path and make sure you memorize it. Be aware of your surroundings and where you’re going. Do not look back.” He rubs your cheek softly with his thumb as his dark eyes pierce your soul. 

Sensing the rough leather of his gloves against your skin sends a chill down your spine as memories of pain and pleasure flood your mind.

These gloves have choked you until you passed out, just to slap you awake again. They’ve penetrated all your holes simultaneously, teasing you, stretching you, making you come over and over again. They’ve split your lip, caressed your cheek, spread Nathan’s cum all over your face, wiped away your tears.

There��s no part of your body they haven’t thoroughly explored in a tantalizing dance between violent and soft touches.

And Nathan only ever wears them for you.

As you study the man in front of you, the only man you’d willingly follow into the unknown, his presence feels both reassuring and elusive—a paradox you’ve come to not only accept but cherish. The intricate interplay of familiarity and mystery that shapes your connection is not just comforting; it’s irresistibly alluring.

In his all-black attire, he presents an effortlessly handsome yet imposing figure. You appreciate the boots on his feet, a deviation from his usual habit of walking around barefoot, and how they seamlessly blend into the darkness of his tactical pants secured by a familiar belt.

While the physical marks from your last encounter may have healed, allowing you to shower and sit down again without writhing in pain, the mere sight of the leather item makes you wince and sends a jolt of electricity through the muscles in your ass cheeks and thighs. 

Provoking Nathan is fun, but the consequences hurt. Badly.

Your gaze wanders further up, drawn to the hoodie that tightly embraces his broad frame, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the defined contours of his chest. It’s one of your favorite sights, second only to seeing him completely bare. Beneath his glasses, dark eyes fixate on you with a keen intensity, silently assessing the anticipation evident on your face.

Finally, your eyes reconnect with his, and the magnetic force of his gaze draws you into the depths of his desires. You see the lust in his eyes, the look of raw hunger etched across his face. It’s a look you’ve grown to both crave and fear, a look only you bring out of him.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” He nods and takes a step back from you, his scowl deepening. “Ten.”

You’re up and running before ‘nine’ even fully leaves Nathan’s lips. You don’t look back as his booming voice echoes behind you. Do you remember the path you chose? Do you know where your feet are carrying you into the mist, through the labyrinth of trees, fast, faster than they’ve ever carried you? You better run, little bunny, run, run away from him.

Ignore your racing heart, ignore the weight of his presence, ignore the forest closing in around you. You need to run. Run through the shadows, run away from him. Can you feel his eyes on you? The predator’s eyes locked on his prey?

Your time is up. He’s coming for you.

Nathan’s eyes follow you, vigilant, watching as your silhouette disappears into the forest, his heart pounding in his chest. Swiftly, he fastens the chest strap of his backpack, tightens his gloves, turns off the light, and lunges into a run. He’s on your trail.

Can you feel him? Can you feel him chasing you, drawing nearer with every frantic beat of your heart? He’s not going to stop until he catches you.

And you know what happens when he does, don’t you?

You’re sprinting, the crunch of leaves and the snap of twigs beneath your shoes creating a frenzied symphony in your haste. Panic creeps in, its icy fingers tightening around your racing heart. The air, now cold and damp, clings to your skin, making you shiver. You run further along the path you’ve chosen, quickly, as quickly as your aching muscles will allow. 

Are you scared? Is that why your breath comes in shallow gasps, and your eyes shimmer with unshed tears? Ah, yes. Yes, you are scared. That’s good. You should be. Let the tendrils of fear wrap around your every move, and embrace the primal instinct that tells you to run, run like a rabbit chased by a hungry fox.

He’s going to sink his teeth into your neck and tear you apart, tear you to shreds. 

Your cold feet carry you along the path you chose, deeper into the woods, deeper into the darkness. Trees blur past, bathed in moonlight, casting enigmatic figures on the path ahead. You can’t stop. He trails behind, a shadow in the darkness, tracking your scent, treading the path your feet imprinted moments before. Can you hear him panting, can you feel his hot breath on your neck? He’s on your heels, inching closer, so close to catching you, so close to having you.

You’re a fast little bunny, Nathan quietly acknowledges, his hungry gaze capturing a glimpse of your shirt. It only heightens the thrill for him, pursuing someone deserving of his dominance.

Oh, how he’s going to enjoy devouring you.

He’s behind you, pacing himself, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’s calm and calculated in his hunt for you, his feet carrying him swiftly towards you. You must hear the branches snapping under his heavy boots, you must feel the heat radiating off his body.

How do you feel? Are you afraid or turned on right now? Be honest. He’s not going away, you’re not going to escape him, he’s going to get you. Have you made peace with your fate?

You should have listened to him. Fuck. A fleeting glance backward is all it takes for you to lose your balance and trip over your own feet, twisting your ankle. The harsh ground rushes to meet you, hands breaking your fall, immediately sending a sharp pain through your arms and shoulders from the impact. Gasping for air, on the brink of tears, you fumble back to your feet, rising as quickly as your sore knees permit.

Where are you? Where has fate led you? The urgency to run grips you again, urging you to flee, escape. Start moving—now. Away from him. Are you sure you chose the right path? Darkness envelops you. Your vision is blurry, you’re tired, your body hurts. The echo of your breath lingers, a haunting reminder of your vulnerability. He’s so near, closing in. Why are you doing this?

A surge of adrenaline in your bloodstream propels you forward, numbing the pain in your ankle and legs. You push yourself into a sprint, using all of your determination and strength, ignoring the heart in your chest threatening to explode. Do not stop. No matter how suffocating the open space around you feels now, no matter how much the cold wind bites your face, no matter how much you yearn for respite.

Do not stop. 

You keep running, heart pounding, panic rising. You hear him, feel him, know he’s toying with you like a cat playing with the mouse it’s about to rip apart. You like that, don’t you? The anticipation. Dull pain in your muscles slows you down, slows your desperate escape. 

Exhaustion and vigilance intermingle, fear collides with excitement, and amidst the confusion, a strange clarity emerges. This is it. He’s here. 

He’s on you – you’re free. 

Nathan’s weight bears down, the forceful impact knocking the breath out of your lungs, his hands and knees pressing you face down into the unforgiving, cold ground. The weight of his breath, heavy and labored, blends with the earthy scent on your lips, clouding your mind. 

“Caught you,” Nathan growls into your ear, his dangerous tone of voice causing your whole body to shudder with an urgent sense of dread. He’s panting, his teeth clenched as he grabs your neck, his gloved fingers painfully digging into your skin, putting his weight on you as you scream and thrash under him. He caught you, he has you, you’re his now. 

Your brain races in overdrive as the primal fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, telling you to ‘fight, fight, little bunny’.

Go on, act like you don’t want it.  

“No, get off me,” you scream at him, clawing at his hand on your neck, writhing and struggling to escape his grip. You can feel the sneer on his face, can feel his satisfaction with your predicament. Do you really want to resist him? That’s not true, is it? You don’t actually want him to stop, don’t want him to listen to the pathetic pleas leaving your lips. No, no, you don’t want that.

You want him to have you, to take you, to ravage you.

What a sick girl you are. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Nathan snarls, his knees pinning your legs down, his grip on your neck intensifying while his free hand retrieves something from one of his pockets.

“You’re mine now. Mine to take, mine to hurt,” he grabs your chin roughly, his dark eyes boring into you. “And you better believe I’m gonna make it hurt.”

Are you scared of him? He’s stronger than you. He’s going to hurt you. You made him chase you, made him chase what’s his. You’re going to pay for that, little bunny. You’re going to pay for trying to deny him. Can you see the fire burning in his eyes? That’s all for you.

Grabbing your wrist, he forcefully twists your arm behind your back, ignoring your pained groan as you struggle and try to resist. With practiced efficiency, he repeats the motion with your other arm, his gloved fingers digging into your flesh. He needs to use all of his strength to keep your hands in place as he fastens the zip tie tightly around your bare wrists, effectively immobilizing your hands. 

You’re bound, restrained—like a little present on a plate, primed and ready for the taking. Does it hurt? Does it hurt to be this helpless, this vulnerable? Struggle all you want. There’s no way you can escape now. 

Your fate is sealed.

Nathan manhandles you onto your back, grabbing you by your shoulder, then immediately straddles you and sits on your thighs to keep you pinned down. You can see the dark glint in his eyes and the violent desire painted across his face. Does that make you wet? The lust, the hunger, the raw need he has for you? 

He knows, little bunny. You’re so pathetic.

“Fuck you,” you defiantly spit at him, as the subtle smirk on Nathan’s face stirs the rebellious voice simmering in your mind.

It’s the same inner voice that urges you to provoke him when your ass is already black and blue, the voice that tells you to deliberately graze his cock with your teeth, so he’ll grab your neck and fuck your throat harder, the voice that tells you to come without permission, so he’ll overstimulate you until you’re too weak to cry — the voice that tells you you need more.

Nathan strikes you hard across the face, splitting your lip. Tears spill from your eyes, and a surge of adrenaline floods your veins. The impact on your cheek is so intense that your head recoils, seeking refuge away from him, eyes clamped shut in an attempt to find solace in darkness. He denies you that respite.

“Look at me, whore!” His hands are on your throat in an instant, knocking your head against the ground, ruthlessly pressing on your veins, crushing you, choking you. 

His eyes blaze with a wild fervor, pupils dilated to an almost feral intensity. The lines on his face contort, a mixture of raw desire and twisted pleasure etched across his features. Desire and dominance intertwine as his gloved fingers tighten even further around your neck, each breath he denies you heightening the predatory satisfaction he feels.

The crushing grip on your throat sends shockwaves of panic through every fiber of your being, alerting your body to resist. Resist him. Resist him or die. With your hands bound behind your back, your struggles are futile, your desperate squirms and frenzied kicks against the unyielding ground only fueling Nathan’s arousal.

Can you taste your own fear on your bloody lips? Delicious, isn’t it?

The world around you blurs, your head spinning, your heart racing, the dark grip of unconsciousness tightening around you. Dumb little bunny, willingly jumping into the fox’s den. What did you think was going to happen?

You’re so helpless under him, so vulnerable, so utterly…human. 

Nathan’s cock is so fucking hard it hurts. 

Right on the edge, as the vacant look in your eyes hints at a mind detaching from reality, he lets go of your throat with a growl, and takes off his gloves. Convulsing, you desperately gasp and cough and splutter as precious air revives your lungs. Your vision gradually returns, and as you gaze upward through tear-filled eyes, the vast expanse of the night sky unfolds above you, a celestial canvas painted with a myriad of stars.

It’s beautiful. Chaotic. Intimidating. Soothing.

Then, his eyes come into focus. Those deep, dark, intense eyes you could drown in. Wouldn’t that be nice? You see fire in them, hunger, calculated power, and…something else.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re scared,” you hear Nathan pant, his bare hands gripping your cheeks firmly, before he leans in and presses his lips on yours in a messy, violent kiss. You’re still gasping for air, but he doesn’t care. He needs to taste you, to devour you, to claim you as his.

He’s frenzied now, moaning into your mouth, gripping your jaw, sliding his hand under your shirt, along your belly and further up, pulling your bra down. He bites your lip, tasting your blood on his tongue, bruising you, marking you. You sob against his lips, out of breath, in pain, mind reeling, so desperate to be close to him you’re shaking.

He laughs at the pathetic sounds you make as he sucks and bites at the sensitive skin of your neck while hungrily groping your tits, his hand exploring your soft skin, squeezing, twisting, punishing. He tugs at your erect nipples, loving how you arch your back and how your cries echo in the night. 

“Scream all you want, baby,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck before peppering soft kisses along your jaw, his free hand moving down your belly and into your pants. “Nobody’s coming to save you.”

You cry and whimper as blood, spit and tears stain your face, giving Nathan exactly what he wants. God, you’re perfect. 

He slips his hand into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness, his fingers sliding through your folds, making you moan and clench around nothing when he brushes your swollen clit. You beg him to stop, twisting and pulling your arms back and forth under yourself, trying to wriggle your hands free to push him off. But it’s no use, is it? Poor baby. You’re bound, you’re, ensnared, like a fly caught in the spider’s silk, each struggle only tightening the threads around you.

What are you so afraid of? Why are you trying to resist so hard? Is it fear or is it the fact that you’re sopping wet from being violated? 

The truth hurts, little bunny, it really does. But you can’t escape it.

Overwhelmed with Nathan’s assault on your senses, you gaze up at him with pleading eyes, his wicked grin widening with every agonizing second as he’s relishing the betrayal of your body. You’re such a depraved whore, letting him hurt you and getting off on it. He loves that you are, and he wants you to know that. He wants you to know how much he fucking loves hurting you, how much he wants you. All of you.

He can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you.

Sitting up straight, he kneels between your legs, momentarily abandoning your tit and your pussy to hastily fumble with the button and zipper of your jeans. Can you see how hard his cock is straining against his pants and how hard his chest is heaving? Can you see what you’re doing to him? He’s in agony and he’s finally going to get his relief from you.

If only he hadn’t underestimated you.

A split second. A split second of lust-fueled distraction is all it takes for Nathan to give you an opportunity to get out. And you take it.

It all happens so fast. 

The forceful kick you deliver to his abdomen shocks you both. He gasps as the unexpected blow catches him off guard, and he stumbles backward, crashing onto the backpack strapped to his shoulders. The impact jars through his spine, making him groan in pain as he feels the sturdy surface of the thermos he brought pressing into his back. Hearing his pitiful groans stuns you for a fleeting moment, a hint of concern creeping in. 

You catch a quick glimpse of Nathan’s dark eyes and that’s when the flight instinct finally kicks in, telling you to get the fuck up and run.

Oh, what have you done, little bunny?

You wriggle on the ground, pain pulsating through your body as you scramble to your feet, wrists still bound behind your back. You run, feet pounding against the uneven forest floor, frantically, unsteady, driven by a primal need to escape.

Your eyes, wide with terror, dart wildly in all directions, desperately searching for an escape route. The whites of your eyes stand out starkly against the backdrop of fear, reflecting the moonlight that filters through the trees overhead. Each breath is visible, quick and shallow, as if the very air you inhale carries the weight of your anxiety. The cold air stings in your lungs, each breath hurting your sore throat. 

“You fucking bitch!” Nathan’s furious shouts echo behind you as he pulls himself up with a pained groan, a relentless pursuit that adds to the drumming rhythm of your heart. “Running won’t save you, you stupid girl. You’re mine. And when I—fuck—when I catch you I’m gonna hurt you like I’ve never fucking hurt you before.” 

Your blood freezes in your veins at his words, but you don’t respond, focusing solely on the path ahead. Running, panting, gritting your teeth, trying to keep your balance with bound hands. Twisting and turning through the dense foliage, you try to outsmart your pursuer, relying on instincts honed by fear. The shadows dance around you, leaves crunching beneath your feet. You better run, little bunny, run, run away from him.

You think a little groping and choking was bad? Oh, you naive thing. That was nothing. He means it when he says he’ll hurt you like never before. But you know that, right? That’s why you’re running now even though your body is threatening to collapse. You just had to be defiant, hm? You just couldn’t accept that you fucking loved what he did to you.

Now look where your pride got you. Was it worth it?

He’s catching up to you, determined to win, his quick feet carrying him through the mist, his angry shouts getting closer. Can you feel his anger, his hot breath on your neck? Can you feel the venom with which he spits his threats at you? There’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal.

“You think you can escape me, you dumb bitch?” Nathan’s voice is a predatory growl, following your every move.

His cruel laughter chases you like a haunting melody, spurring you on to push your aching muscles harder. The forest seems to tighten around you, an inescapable labyrinth closing in as the predator hunts its prey. And then it happens again. He’s got you. 

As you dart left, he anticipates your move, and your bodies collide with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You both tumble to the ground with a thud, intertwined, leaves and dirt swirling around you in a chaotic dance. 

“No, no, no,” you scream, thrashing about like a wounded animal caught in a bear trap. 

You’re so much stronger than Nathan anticipated, it’s incredible. He knows you have a high pain tolerance, but your resilience is honestly amazing. You truly are the perfect prey.

You squirm and struggle to get away again, but Nathan puts all of his weight on you, pinning you face down under him, your face pressed into the mud, his fingernails digging into your arms so hard you’re making yourself bleed when you desperately try to pull away from his grip. His eyes burn with a mixture of fury and triumph as he pants against your neck, his knees digging into the back of your thighs, one hand moving to press on your neck.

“That’s enough,” he growls through gritted teeth, as you just won’t give up, even though he can feel your exhaustion.

He slaps your exposed cheek as he holds your neck steady, the sharp crack of the impact echoing in the oppressive darkness. A surge of pain courses through you like lightning, leaving a heavy imprint on your senses. Before you can fully register the sting, he ruthlessly yanks on your shirt’s collar, revealing the vulnerable expanse of your shoulder.

Without hesitation, he bites into your flesh, dragging his teeth, breaking your skin. His assault is akin to a wolf sinking its razor-sharp fangs into prey, tearing into your body with a savage hunger. It hurts worse than anything you can remember. Your body’s in shock and your cries come out soundless, weak, futile. He’s pushing you to your limits.

When he’s had his fill, he wipes his bloody mouth, sits up and turns you on your back, immediately straddling your thighs as one of his hands constricts around your bruised neck. The pressure is not yet enough to completely cut off your air supply, but it’s enough to evoke vivid and terrifying memories of how he choked you just moments ago. The implied threat is enough to keep you still.

Nathan slings off his backpack in a swift motion using his free hand and turns on the light. He then takes a few seconds to look into your wet, glazed-over eyes, caressing your tender cheek with an unexpectedly gentle touch, tracing your soft skin with his palm. He can see it in your dilated pupils, he can feel it radiating off your body, he can hear it in your trembling voice as you can’t hold back the pathetic little whimpers escaping your lips.  

You’re flying. 

Seeing the need in your eyes, his handprint on your cheek, his bite mark on your shoulder, and the blood on your lips makes his cock throb in his pants. He can’t wait anymore, he needs you.

He lets go of your neck with a menacing growl, moving back to sit between your legs. His unwavering gaze remains locked onto yours, stripping you of any semblance of agency. He quickly grabs the waistband of your jeans and drags them over your ass and down to your thighs like you’re a doll — like you’re one of his androids. Sentient, but not in control. 

It’s so peaceful, isn’t it? Being his toy. His little slut to play with.

You feel your panties being yanked down, feel the cold breeze on your pussy as Nathan lifts and bends your legs for better access, feel him holding your thighs with a tight grip. He can see how wet you are, how swollen your clit is, how much your body craves his violence. And he’s going to give it to you. All of it. Because he craves it just as badly. His cock is aching for you, rock-hard, pulsating, desperate to feel the warmth of your cunt.

He hastily pulls down his pants with controlled movements, revealing just how much his body wants you. You can see his cock through your wet lashes, causing your walls to clench around nothing and your hips to jerk at the sight; a conditioned response from the hours upon hours of ecstasy he’s given you.

“All for you, my little whore,” Nathan says with a sly grin as he follows your hungry gaze and reaches down to grab the object of your attention. Locking eyes with you and searching them for a second, he strokes the tip of his cock up and down your slick, puffy lips once, twice, and then pushes into your cunt in one forceful thrust.

You whine pathetically as he stretches you open with a loud groan, your toes curling in your shoes, the feeling almost too much to bear. He gives you no time to adjust before he pulls out completely and slams back inside as hard as he can, pushing your body up on the cold ground. 

“F-fuck yeah,” he groans as he bottoms out deep inside you, savoring the delicious feeling of your wet pussy sucking him in. “That’s it…Now, be a good whore and take it.”

You can’t hold back your moans as he starts fucking you at a relentless pace, holding on to both of your thighs, putting his weight on them, pressing them against your torso. The angle makes you incredibly tight and allows him to go deep, deep inside of you. 

Nathan’s gaze penetrates yours, watching in awe as the need in your eyes grows bigger and bigger with every inch of his cock stretching you, with every snap of his hips against your thighs, with every demeaning word he spits at you as he takes what he wants, reducing you to a toy he can use and abuse.

You take it, take everything he gives you, take it so well. You take it until you can’t anymore. 

“Please stop,” you whimper as his deliberate, continuous hits to your cervix cause you immense pain.

Nathan laughs breathlessly. You’re so cute when you pretend that’s not exactly what you need. What hurts more, huh? The pain of him using you or the fact that you’re close to coming from it?

“Can’t take it, slut?” he pants as he can feel his cock swell deep inside of you, your pussy gripping him like a vise. You feel so fucking good. “What happened? I thought you wanted this.”

“Hurts…” you whine as fresh tears run down your temples. You writhe under him, trying to move your legs, but it’s no use. You’re trapped. 

“I know it hurts, baby,” he coos in response, his voice deceptively soothing. “But I need you to be good for me. You wanna be good for me, don’t you? Yeah, you do. You wanna be my good girl. That’s it, baby. Just like that.” 

His words send heat straight to your core, causing your walls to flutter around his cock. God, you’re a perfect little fuckdoll. 

You yelp in surprise as Nathan suddenly leans in, putting your calves on his shoulder, crushing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. You instinctively open your mouth for his tongue to slide inside, wanting to taste him, to feel him, to have him claim you completely. 

The coil in your lower belly is wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You’re so close. You moan into his mouth as his tongue swirls around yours, and he groans in response, his hips picking up the pace, slamming into you feverishly. Your pitiful cries evaporate in his mouth as his cock hits your cervix over and over again, determined to make you come from pain.

He can feel you burning up against his body, can taste the desperation on your trembling lips, can feel your pussy gripping him so hard it hurts. You’re fucking loving this. He chuckles against your lips as you start jerking your hips, trying your hardest to get more friction on your clit.

Poor little bunny.

He’s not going to touch you. You’re going to come like this or not at all.

Not giving you even one second to catch your breath, he draws back from your lips and immediately grabs the base of your neck with a firm grip to pull himself deeper inside you with every harsh thrust. Lightheaded, mind reeling, your overstimulated body is screaming for release.

“Nathan…” you sob, your voice a mere whisper as tears stream down your temples.

“That’s right, slut. Keep fucking crying,” he groans, his hips stuttering for a moment when he feels your pussy twitch around his cock. You’re so close. Your whole body is trembling and your moans are getting louder and louder as he’s picking up the pace, thrusting into you relentlessly, telling you what a depraved little whore you are for coming on his cock.

It only takes a handful more of Nathan’s measured thrusts before the coil inside you finally snaps and you crash into your orgasm at full speed. Your walls clamp down around his cock so hard he can barely keep moving, and the overwhelming ecstasy that spreads through your body and mind makes you forget who or where you are. You feel weightless, free, whole as he fucks you through your high, drowning you in his touch that masterfully blends pain and pleasure.

He almost comes instantly when he sees and feels you fall apart so completely, your blissed out expression the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

As you start to come down and all sensations begin to blur into an elusive haze, you feel the edges of your vision start to blur and Nathan’s groans seem distant and muffled. On the precipice of your consciousness, in your delirium, you feel the gentle touch of Nathan’s lips on your skin, you see him smiling at you, you hear him whisper in your ear that he lo–

A sharp slap to your cheek wakes you up and has you turning your head to cough and gasp for air. After a few seconds of trying to catch your breath, your chest heaving, your head spinning, you notice that Nathan’s still moving, his hips slamming against the back of your thighs with a relentless ferocity that borders on primal.

“You don’t get to pass out on me, baby,” you hear him chuckle. “I want you to feel it when I fill you up.”

He can feel it building and building, winding tighter and tighter, his cock swelling and twitching inside your cunt. He pants and moans your name, telling you what a perfect little whore you are, how fucking good you feel, how much he enjoys hurting you.

“Holy shit, that’s it. Fuck. Fuck.”

He explodes deep inside you, cum painting your walls, still thrusting as he twitches and pulses, making sure your pussy swallows every last drop. He sits up, panting heavily, sweat running down his temples as he looks down at where your bodies are connected. He slowly pulls out of you with a strangled groan, watches with satisfaction how his cum leaks out of your swollen pussy, and at last lets his spent body collapse on the ground next to you.

“Fucking unreal,” he sighs deeply, covering his face with his hands for a moment before wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. He takes a few seconds to catch his breath and to wait for enough blood to flow back to his brain, then turns his head to look at you. 

You’re lying on your side, turned away from him, your knees pulled up to your chest in the fetal position. Nathan’s eyes are immediately drawn to the burns on your wrists, the scratches covering your arms and ass, and the blood he can see on your shirt’s collar.

Seeing you in this state has his cock twitching on his belly.

He did this to you. He beat you, overpowered you, took you, fucking destroyed you. You were so sure of yourself before, and now look at yourself. Pathetic.

What hurts more, little bunny? Your body or your mind? 

Your pitiful sobs cut through the still of the night, interrupting Nathan’s thoughts.

“Shit.” He snaps out of it and immediately sits up, haphazardly stuffing his cock back inside his pants before opening his backpack to get out the shears he packed. He grabs them, then kneels behind you.

“I’m gonna cut your ties, okay? Don’t move.”

You give no indication that you can hear him, but you don’t move your hands as he cuts the ties around your sore wrists. You lie still, limp, even now that your hands are free again.

Concerned with your body temperature, Nathan quickly reaches for his backpack again to get out a woolen blanket. He drapes it over you, shielding your exposed body from the cold wind blowing around you.

He tries to turn you around, so he can look at you and talk to you, but you start thrashing about and crying violently when he puts pressure on your arm.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s over,” he says calmly but firmly, pulling you up into his lap with your back against his chest despite your protests. His strong arms hold you close, the blanket tightly wrapped around you. “Shhh, it’s over, you’re safe.” 

He can feel you stop resisting and your muscles relaxing in his arms after a minute or so, your head falling back against his shoulder, your breathing getting calmer.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, rocking you gently.

After a short while of sitting in silence, he decides it’s best you two get going, so he can clean you up and take care of your wounds. But first, he wants you to drink from the tea he brought, to warm you up and rehydrate you.

With a careful maneuver, he reaches into his backpack while keeping a supportive hold on you, retrieving the thermos that left a lasting impression on his back. He takes a sip to make sure it’s not too hot before encouraging you to do the same. He smiles to himself when you don’t bother asking what’s in it this time, too exhausted to care, apparently.

You feel the soothing warmth trickling down your sore throat, warming you from the inside. A gentle cough escapes your lips, a testament to the wear and tear your body has endured. When Nathan’s satisfied with your intake, he stows the thermos and helps you stand up. He pulls up your panties and pants without any protest from you, then picks up his backpack. 

“Here,” he murmurs, wrapping the blanket tightly around you, so it stays put without you having to hold it. He then hands you a blue cool pack for your swollen cheek and lip and guides your hand to the affected area. You wince and groan when the pack makes contact with your tender skin.

“Keep pressure on it, okay?”

You nod and press a bit harder, the throbbing pain prompting a new set of tears to well up in your eyes, silently expressing both pain and relief.

“Can you walk?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Mhm.”

“It’s not far,” he murmurs, prompting you to walk in front of him. The flashlight he brought illuminates the path, but exhaustion causes you to stumble a few times. When Nathan has to catch you for the fifth time, he realizes this isn’t going to work and finally opts to rearrange the blanket, so he can guide you with a supportive hand under your armpit.

You’re not really here, so you don’t notice that he’s leading you down a different path than the one you came from.

The cold night air is filled with unspoken truths as you walk in silence, the sound of gravel and leaves crushed beneath your feet echoing the muted conversation you’re not ready to have.

Your body is beginning to hurt more and more with every step you take, as you can feel the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. The fog in your mind begins to clear at the same time, revealing a storm of conflicting emotions you’re utterly unprepared for. 

Nathan’s just fulfilled a fantasy you’ve had forever but could never find the right partner for, either due to lack of sexual compatibility or lack of trust. And despite having you climbing the walls with frustration many times over the past few months, you trust Nathan and know he would never seriously harm you.

Not physically at least.

So, why are you pouting right now? He gave you what you wanted, didn’t he? This was your idea and you wanted it so badly.

Is it because you didn’t think it would feel so real? That it wouldn’t hurt so much? Hmm, that’s not it, is it? No, no. What you’re feeling is shame. You’re ashamed. Ashamed at how much you loved it. How much you loved the thrill of the hunt and the pain of being beaten and used.

What kind of fucked up person would enjoy something like this? What is wrong with you?

– – –

“I had it built over the past week,” Nathan murmurs as he’s opening a new pack of sterile wipes. “Pretty great, huh? I designed every room myself, feng shui included.” You dig your fingernails into your palm and suck in a sharp breath when the alcohol makes contact with the bite mark on your shoulder.

You’ve been in Nathan’s new cabin for half an hour now, and he’s been trying his best to make you feel comfortable—turning up the heat, helping you take off your dirty shirt and jeans, preparing a cup of tea for you while you were on the toilet, giving you pain meds a non-billionaire could only dream of getting their hands on, and carefully disinfecting your wounds in the bathroom. He’s even refrained from misquoting Oppenheimer or exclusively talking about himself.

He is trying.

You, however, have remained unresponsive, eyes vacant, lost in the echoes of your scene. Vivid memories pulse through your veins, and when Nathan notices the subtle tremors wracking your body, a flicker of concern shadows his eyes.

“Looks good,” he goes on as he’s done cleaning the mark his canines left on you. “It’s not as deep as I thought. Still looks like it hurts though.”

He can’t help but smile at the sight, the evidence of what he did to you. Beautiful. He puts the wipes down onto the wooden bench you’re sitting on and studies your profile. Silent tears are slowly rolling down your swollen cheeks, your bruised neck, over your breasts, pooling in your bra. Your lip is quivering.

You hear him say your name. “Can you please look at me?”

When you don’t react, he says your name a little louder, his patience waning as he grapples with his own sense of helplessness.

He’s not used to feeling this way—unable to fully understand or solve a problem that’s presenting itself. He’s a genius for God’s sake. Concern turns to frustration, his eyes mirroring the helplessness he’s experiencing—an unusual and uncomfortable sensation for someone accustomed to being in control.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. But your silence persists, and his frustration peaks. With a sudden resolve, he reaches for your chin, intending to force you to look at him. As soon as his fingers make contact with your skin, you slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” you hiss at him with such venom in your voice that he’s momentarily stunned. Your eyes meet his for the first time since you left the woods, bloodshot and watery, pupils dilated. 

The sudden break in the stagnant atmosphere startles both of you and you immediately regret what you did when you see the look on Nathan’s face. Your palms are clammy, the bathroom suddenly feels far too hot, and every scratch on your body burns and pulses in time with your racing heartbeat.

“I–I’m so sorry,” you stutter, your eyes wide, your trembling hand reaching for his arm. 

“It’s okay,” he says calmly, studying your face with a furrowed brow. “Are you in pain? Is that it?”

“No—well, yeah. Of course I am, what the hell do you think?” A small smile tugs at Nathan’s lips, amused with your answer. “But, uh, that’s not it.” You avert your gaze and absentmindedly rub your right thumb over your left thumb in your lap. 

“Was it too much? Did I do some–”

“No.” You vehemently shake your head and look into his eyes. “It was perfect, Nathan. I liked it, really.”

He can see in your eyes that you’re telling the truth, but that just confuses him more.

“It’s just,” you go on, shifting uncomfortably on the bench. “What’s wrong with me?”

A lightbulb flickers to life above Nathan’s head, and suddenly, it’s crystal clear what your pleading eyes are trying to say.

“Why do you think anything’s wrong with you? You just said you liked what we did.”

“But why?” you blurt out. “Other people don’t ask their boss to chase them through the woods. They’re not perpetually bruised. And they wouldn’t get off on half the shit you do to me.” Your voice is agitated now, your hands wildly gesticulating between the two of you.

Nathan can see how distressed you are, but he genuinely doesn’t understand why. This isn’t like you. He sighs and puts his hand on your naked thigh. You let him.

“Pain, humiliation, submitting to me,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours. “That’s your thing, okay? Now, why is that your thing? Because you did a detailed analysis of all kinks and you cross-referenced that analysis with a points-based system? No. You’re just into pain and humiliation. You like submitting to me. It’s how you were programmed. Nature and nurture, baby.”

You hear the words he says, but your tired brain and your aching body make it so you’re not really processing them. His logic isn’t what you need right now.

“But…don’t you think that’s weird?” you murmur, your eyes filling with tears again.

Nathan sighs deeply, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “This is your insecurity talking, this is not your intellect,” he says sternly. “You’re better than that.”

He gets up with a suppressed groan, clutching his abdomen, and holds out his hand for you to join him.

As soon as you’re standing, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your lips still sting, but you don’t mind. Nathan’s lips, his warm body against yours, and his hands roaming your naked back feel too good to care. You’re losing yourself in his touch again.

He directs you backwards toward the sink without breaking the kiss, pressing his growing erection against your core when your lower back hits the sink. His tongue swirls around yours, his low hums vibrating against your lips as his hands find your hips.

Breaking the kiss, out of breath, he turns you around, so you’re in front of the mirror. 

“Look at yourself,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, his lidded eyes watching you. He slowly traces your skin with his fingertips, appreciating the marks on your body. A shiver runs down your spine and you moan softly at his tantalizing touch.

“I did this. I did this to you.” Nathan kisses your neck with his warm, soft lips, his beard tickling you. You close your eyes and hum at the feeling, resting your hands on the sink.

“And you took it so well, baby,” he murmurs against your skin between kisses, his hard cock pressing against your ass. “You earned every single bruise. You’re such a good little whore.”

His right hand moves down your belly, down between your thighs, cupping your mound over your panties. Gently but firmly. He keeps kissing up and down your neck, his warm breath and soft groans making you wet. You let your head fall back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck, and rocking your hips against his hand.

“Nathan…don–” you murmur, but he cuts you off. 

“Shh,” he purrs against your neck, sliding his hand inside your panties and finding your clit with his fingers.

“Look at yourself.”

You reluctantly open your eyes. His gaze meets yours in the reflection, your brows drawn together, your lips slightly parted. You still wince at the sight of your swollen face, the mark on your shoulder and the bruises and scratches you can see. But all of your thoughts are quickly washed away when Nathan’s fingers start rubbing your clit, his dark eyes never leaving you. 

“That’s it, baby. Look at what I did to you. Look at how much I hurt you.”

Speeding up the movement of his fingers, he can feel your legs starting to tremble as your orgasm approaches rapidly. He wraps his left hand around your front, his hand splayed over your tense belly, holding you against his chest. 

Sweet release. You can already taste it.

Your moans are becoming louder and louder, and right when you’re about to tip over the edge, Nathan roughly grabs your throat and simultaneously pushes three fingers into your pussy, pumping them in and out of you hard and fast. Your eyes widen in shock and your hands instinctively grab at his, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but he’s undeterred.

He knows you’re sore, so he’s not going to fuck you with his cock. But you need this. 

“There is nothing wrong with you or with what you want,” he growls into your ear, his eyes boring into you as he feels you coming around his fingers with a desperate moan.

You ride out your high on his hand until your knees buckle and your limp body collapses against his, your walls rhythmically pulsing around him. Holding you upright, Nathan presses a soft kiss to the mark on your shoulder and nuzzles the crook of your neck with his nose.

“You’re such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you.

“Now, how about a bath?”

– – –

Lying in the softest bed you’ve ever laid in, feeling the comforting embrace of the satin sheets around your body, and thanks to the pain meds working their magic, you find yourself in heaven. Floating on a fluffy cloud. Mind empty. Content.

“Feeling any better?” you hear Nathan’s voice behind you before the bed dips under his weight as he joins you.  

“Mhm. Great meds,” you murmur into your pillow.

“Yeah, right? I feel like I’m floating.”

“Huh?” You turn around to look at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the trees and the wall-to-ceiling window opposite the bed. “What the fuck, Nathan? You can’t mix those with alcohol.” 

“No worries. My liver’s been training for this.”  

You scoff. He’s unbelievable. “Why did you take them anyway? It’s not like you got hurt.”

“The big, purple bruise on my abdomen begs to differ,” he chuckles. “You got me pretty good.”

You can’t hold back a little laugh. “You’re a baby.”

“And you get a little too bold when you’re high. I’d watch it if I were you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, your eyelids beginning to droop.

Nathan smirks and shakes his head at you. “Hey,” he lightly taps your shoulder, “wanna see something cool? Check this out.” 

He flips a switch on the wall next to the bed, and suddenly, the roof smoothly retracts, unveiling the vast expanse of the starlit sky.

It’s breathtaking.

“Pretty amazing, huh?”

“It is,” you whisper as your thoughts float away like dandelion seeds carried by a gentle breeze, dancing into the realm of dreams. “Thank you.”

The quiet in the bedroom stretches for a few minutes as the soothing embrace of sleep begins to claim you. Suddenly, Nathan breaks the silence with a soft murmur.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” 

“Hm?”

He sighs. “About your masochism. You never told me.”

“Hmm. I don’t always. Only sometimes.” You turn onto your side, your face buried in the pillow. A content sigh escapes your lips. “Can’t help it.”

“Don’t keep stuff like that from me. Tell me next time.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m serious, it’s–” He stops when he hears your rhythmic breathing. He leans over you and looks at your face. You’re sleeping. You look peaceful.

Nathan rolls onto his back and stares at the stars overhead for a few minutes, contemplating the universe and his role in it until your breathing lulls him to sleep.

– – –

Thank you for reading 🖤 ➝ check out my masterlist

#nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman smut #consensual noncon #oscar isaac characters #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #ex machina fanfiction #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman fanfiction #oscar isaac fic #smut #oscar isaac #aftercare

[leoluved]

indulge me (n.b)

summary: nathan eats you out, then cums in his pants :-) (lovingly) warnings: smut 18+, fem reader, pussy eating, soft nathan bc i cant get enough, not beta read (still a lazy bastard), slight overstim only if u squint word count: 1.0k

It isn’t often Nathan opens up to you. You’re okay with it; with his love being more of a comfort in action than words. You know he needs you even if he wouldn’t dare say it. 

You’ve known him long enough to know his emotions run so clearly through his eyes. 

As you lay on the couch, with a magazine in your hand, you see him come into the living room through the corner of your peripheral. 

You raise your head from the pages, watching as he strides over and takes a seat. Grabbing your legs to settle himself underneath them. You try and focus your attention back to the little quiz you were taking before, but the way Nathan’s fingers graze over your skin has you melting under his touch. 

He moves closer, his hands lingering over the surface of your thighs, and you drop the magazine as he hovers over you. Passionately slotting his lips against yours. 

Your hands find purchase wrapped around his neck, and you pull him closer to you. Earning yourself a low chuckle from him. You bare your throat to him, allowing him to leave wet, open mouth kisses onto your collarbone. 

As you move your hands down to unlace the string of his sweatpants, he stops you. Shaking his head and gently guiding your hand back to yourself by your wrist. He lowers himself, kissing down your midriff as the tank top you were wearing started to ride up. 

As if you weighed nothing, Nathan is raising your hips off of the cushion, bringing down your shorts and panties till they’re sliding off your legs. He tosses them off the couch, bringing his hands to the fold of your knees.

You let out a saccharine sigh as you watch him practically fold you in half. He groans at the sight of your slicked folds, removing his glasses and setting them down on the side table before licking a stripe up your wet cunt. 

Gasping softly, you try to close your thighs. However Nathan’s strong hands react first, and it only makes him push you further open for him. 

His eyes gaze at you lovingly from his position, with the way his hands are gripping your skin you can tell he needs this. The pleasant sting of his fingernails digging into your thighs. Knowing you’ll have crescent shaped marks in the morning. 

Nathan brings himself back to your pussy. Starting off with small kitten licks to your clit. 

Nathan loves the way you react, how easy it is to have you buckling and begging under his touch. He knows it won’t be long before you’re riding his face. Being greedy to take what you want. Nathan loves that. Loves how his actions can show him just how much you need him. 

He grabs one of your hands, replacing yours where his rested in the crook of your leg. One of his thick fingers coming up to tease your slit. The tip prods at your entrance, and Nathan practically drools at the way you clench at the intrusion. Sucking softly on your puffy nub, he enters. Indulging in the way you whimper when he finally plunges his middle finger all the way in.  

You buck your hips, and it encourages him to move faster. The sounds of slurping fills the room. You throw your head back and whine out shamelessly into the air. While you’re distracted, Nathan takes the opportunity to insert another finger. Curling them up your spongy walls until he’s hitting your favorite spot. 

He knows he found it when you’re finally starting to move your hips on your own. 

Suddenly, he stops. Watching cruelly as you try to fuck yourself on his unmoving face. He laughs when you send him a glare and starts his movements up again. 

He finally decides his teasing is over, bringing himself back down to eat you like a starving man. Your orgasm quickly approaches, and you don’t even get the chance to let out a word before Nathan is talking you through your peak. 

“C’mon baby.. Give it to me. You can do it, princess.” 

The pet name comes out in a purr, and with a final curl of his fingers, you’re gasping and bucking up onto his tongue with a cry. You bask in the feeling of your orgasm. Enjoying the way Nathan strokes the skin of your inner thigh. He presses soft kisses to your fluttering pussy. Smiling at the way you twitch. He wipes his face before bringing himself back down. 

You almost think he’s joking. 

Nathan doesn’t stop, continuing his assault on your pulsing heat. You mewl out, trying to push his head away. Instead, his fingers curl upward again, causing you to jerk away. 

“Baby. Just one more, one more ‘n I’ll stop.” His voice is gravely, and it sounds wrecked.  

His voice is distant, and with the way he desperately laps at you, it doesn’t take long for you to build up the familiar feeling in your stomach again. Your hands come up to cup his head, trying to bring him as close as you can. 

“Nath—an.. Nathan..please..” 

Hearing your begging makes him feel like he died and went to the pearly gates of Heaven. Almost as if hearing the choir sing for him. He hasn’t even noticed himself mindlessly rutting against the cushions. 

He knows he’s finished when your thighs are uncontrollably shaking. Struggling to take in breaths. When you cum again, so does he. Groaning into you, he finally pulls away. Looking down at the wet spot forming in his light grey sweats. He sighs, and grabs his glasses. Fixing them over his deep umber eyes. 

His gaze focuses on you when you finally start to compose yourself. You fix yourself up on your knees and stare at him. He smiles, and brings a hand to your head to guide your body into his chest. 

“Don’t you want m—“

“Already did.” He mutters, trying to ignore the way you're holding back a laugh.

#so yeah #˚ . ☆ ⋆。˚ — my writing. #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x you #ex machina imagine #ex machina #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Fever

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: “You’ve heard of a good night orgasm, right? Well, this is a get well one.” Nathan's sick and has a pretty strange idea for a cure.

A/N: Nathan brainrot so big atm guys. Nathan and Reader are already in a relationship.

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, banging when someone's ill, swearing, typos, overuse of italics, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2870

________________________________

Nathan was surprisingly good when you were ill. Attentive, caring, considerate. 

You’d asked him about it once, his offhand reply being a mumbled: “If there’s a bug in a system, you fix it, you don’t just wait and hope it’ll sort itself out.”

When Nathan was sick however, it was a completely different story. 

He was absolutely god fucking awful to deal with. 

Grumpiness up to eleven. Snapping at everything and refusing to slow down or take a break. Working himself to the point of exhaustion and then further still. 

It was idiotic. But it was Nathan.

So when you walked into the living room to see him on the sofa, curled up and looking washed out it was a bit unexpected. 

He definitely wasn’t hung over, hung over Nathan was a sight to behold. Constantly trying new concoctions and cures that you were sure wouldn’t have been out of place in a history book about medieval torture.  

You paused, a little frown forming on your forehead. Uncertain at first if he was sleeping or not, and whether to disturb him. 

He seemingly made the decision for you. “Baby?” He flopped his hand onto the back of the sofa, vaguely in your direction, and groped around a little, his eyes still closed. 

He sounded weak, drawn in, and sorry for himself. Very unlike the Nathan you were used to. 

You moved to him quickly, taking his hand and squeezing before leaning down and placing your cool hand on his feverish forehead. 

He let out a little sigh of contentment. 

“You’re sick.” You muttered, kissing his temple. 

“No.” He grumbled. There he was, there was your Nathan. He kept his eyes closed.

“Uh huh.”

“Uh uh.” He tugged on your hand lightly, moving it closer to his chest. “Not sick.” 

“What’s wrong then?” 

“Bateria, or viruses. Invading my bloodstream.” 

“So… sickness then?” 

He cracked open his eyes to give you a look. “Come lay down with me?” 

The puppy dog expression nearly got you, Nathan was very good at sweetness when he wanted something. 

“So you can get me sick?” You chuckled. 

“Yes.” He pouted. 

“Are you admitting you’re unwell?” 

“Just lay down with me.” He grumbled, his usual sarcasm didn’t quite have the same bite when he looked as if he might nod off at any moment. 

“Okay.” You pretended that it was a huge effort on your part, moving to sit. But Nathan shifted quickly, a little too quickly, as small multi-colored spots danced in front of his eyes. And urged you into laying down flat on your back, your head against the armrest, before snuggling up to you. 

He laid his head on your chest and breathed out deeply, closing his eyes once more. 

You put your arm around him, just nudging him a little closer and he let out a little murmur of comfort. 

He nodded off almost immediately, breathing softly against you. 

With the sudden technical skill of a surgeon, you managed to fish your phone out of your pocket without disturbing him and spent the better part of 40 minutes browsing mindlessly. 

Nathan shifted, groaning a little as he moved. He stayed quiet for a few seconds and you thought he had fallen back asleep before he sighed again and looked up at you. Blinking his eyes heavily. 

“What time is it?” 

“Nearly 12:30.” 

“Ugh.” He rolled his eyes and buried his face back into your chest. “I feel like shit.” His breath was hot. 

“You look like shit too.”

“Thanks.”

You rubbed his back and smiled. “Can I get you anything?” 

“No.” His voice was still muffled from where he was pressed against you. “A new body maybe.” 

You leant a little closer and whispered conspiratorially. “That can be arranged.” 

Nathan sniggered into you and stretched, flopping his left leg over both of yours. 

The press of his hard cock against you made you pause. 

You said nothing for a moment, just waiting until he slowly started to grind against your leg. A subtle action, seemingly trying to be sneaky about it. 

“Nathan.”

“Hmm?” He said, keeping his head tucked into your chest. 

You put your phone down. “What are you doing?” You said in a sing-song voice. 

“... Nothing.” 

You pressed your leg against his crotch and he moaned loudly, his fingers digging into your skin. 

“Sure, sounds like nothing.” You tease.

He groaned and looked up at you, a small pout on his lips. “It’s not my fault.”

“Isn’t it?” 

He grumbled quietly, shifting again in a pretense moving so that he could prop himself up on his elbow. But really using it as an excuse to grind up against you again. 

“No,” he sulked, his cheeks a little flush. “It’s not. Can’t help it.” 

“Can’t you?” You teased, unable to stop smiling. 

“No, not when you’re all close and, ugh,” he groaned, burying his head between your breasts and pushing them up against his face, “these are right here.”

You laughed loudly. “Am I that distracting?” 

He nodded. “Very.” 

You chuckled again. “Sorry.”

“I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm.” 

“Good dream?” 

He moaned softly and shifted again, settling fully on top of you and weakly rubbing his dick against your thighs. “Yeah.” 

You grinned. “I’m not fucking you while you’re sick Nathan.” 

He let out a low groan of frustration. “I’m not sick.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Finnneee, I’m sick, but fucking you would cure me, I’m sure of it.” 

You can’t stop giggling at the weak lamenting tone he’d quickly adopted. 

He grinned, chuckling before he quickly schooled his face back into a pout and puppy dog eyes. “Pretty please?” 

You laughed harder.

“Don’t you love me?” He batted his eyes at you. 

The fit of giggles wouldn’t stop. 

“Come on,” he sat up a little, leaning closer so that his face was near yours. “You’ve heard of a good night orgasm, right? Well, this is a get well one.” 

“A get well orgasm?” 

“Yeah, you know? Releases endorphins, makes your white blood cells work faster, kills bacteria…” He gave you a lopsided grin. “I’m convincing you, aren’t I?”

“I’m glad you’re not a biologist.” 

He purposefully poked out his bottom lip. “Please? I’m sick.”

“Nathan.” You grinned, enjoying his little display far more than you would ever let on. 

“You’re meant to take care of me.” 

“And, why is that?” You lean closer to his face, nearly brushing your lips against his and moving back slightly when he tried to close the gap. 

He groaned a little, wiggling his hips between your legs and you let him. “Because you’re kind, because you love me.” 

“I don’t know about that.” You teased. 

“Because you love me.” He repeated, giving you a little glare. “Because it’ll help, and…” he sighed, purposely dropping his shoulders and failing his arms a little.

This was too good. Far too good. Something about his slightly forlorn brattiness was just so endearing. “And?” 

“And I’m really fucking horny okay? Like so horny, like just let me rub against you and I’ll cum in my pants and take some medicine and go to sleep, I promise.” 

You bite your lips together and smile. “You’d actually take some medicine?” 

He nodded. Nathan not shutting down the idea of taking pills was a feat on its own. 

“Alright.” 

His whole face lit up. “Alright?” 

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, but you gotta behave, take the tablets, and rest, yeah? Work on getting better.” 

He nodded quickly. Seemingly finding new energy as he sat up a little. 

“Okay,” you began to move your legs, intending to get up from the settee and drop to your knees. 

“No, no, no,” Nathan hooked his hand behind your knee, urging you back to your previous position. “Please, stay here, hmm? I want to…” He pulled at your waistband softly. 

You took pity on him. “Do you want these off?” 

“I want it all off.” 

You sighed exasperatedly, an over the top sound for his benefit only. But you smiled as you did so. Quickly, you began to pull off your clothing. “You sure you’ll be okay, I don’t want you passing out or dying on me.” 

Nathan sniggered. “I’ll be fine.” 

He helped you out of your top and pulled your trousers off your feet before dumping your clothes in a pile on the floor. 

He let out a satisfied groan and kissed your breasts, nuzzling into your skin happily. 

You laughed as his beard tickled your skin. 

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled, breaking away from the embrace only to pull off his hoodie. 

“The point of this is to make you feel good.” 

He tutted and rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah.” 

“Don’t ‘yeah, yeah’ me, Bateman, I’ll-”

With a surprising speed, he leant up and kissed you hungrily, slipping his tongue into your mouth and grinding his still clothed erection against your core. 

He broke the kiss, grinning wildly when you moaned. 

You scowled. “Trying to give me your germs?” 

“Oh, you’ve already been exposed to them, baby.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to be exposed to them anymore,” you playfully swatted at his arm. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned before gently taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it softly before lapping at it with board flat licks. 

You squirmed under him, your thighs clenching around his waist instinctively. Your breathing hitched and you tried to get a hold of yourself. “What’s with all this ‘yeah, yeah’ attitude?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scooting further down your body. “You’ll have to fuck it out of me I guess.” He gave you a perfectly innocent smile before diving between your legs. 

You didn’t know whose moan was louder, yours or Nathan's, the second his lips and tongue touched your core. 

He laps broad strokes through your folds, ending with a swirl of his tongue around your clit before repeating the whole process over again. He groans with each lick, unable and unwilling to stop himself from grinding against the settee as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Humming happily when you buck and arch up against him. 

He looked up at you, watching your face as you moan with his large doe eyes blown wide with lust. 

Teasingly, he dips his tongue into your heat, growling from deep within his chest as new wetness flows out of you. He slides up again, achingly slowly to your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Slowly he circles it twice with the very tip of his tongue, drawing out the sensation as you gasp and moan under him, before attacking you with long, wide licks fully against your clit. Repeating the motion again and again and again until you can’t even begin to think of anything else. 

“Nathan,” you moan, your thighs shaking, your breath catching in your throat as you beg him to go faster, harder, anything. “Please.”

He ignores you, seemingly content to continue his onslaught at the exact same pace and firm pressure. But his eyes twinkle as you plead. 

You try to buck up against him quicker, moving your hips so you can reach that sweet peak that’s so tantalisingly close. 

Nathan predicts your movement, knowing all your moves, and leans up slightly with every thrust, only allowing the same constant press and glide of his tongue against you. 

“Nathan, Nathan, please,” you implore him as your release creeps closer, sparking up your spine and down your legs. 

He keeps his pace, watching you with glee as he slowly pushes you over the edge. 

You cry out loudly, your thighs clamping around his head as he continues to lap at you. Pleasure washes over you as your cum soaks into his beard. He allows himself a split second of a pause to savour it, moan quietly at the taste, before his eyes are back open and he’s continuing those long, long licks. 

As you start to come down your legs relax and Nathan pushes them lightly back down, still not taking a break in his actions. 

“Nathan,” you whine, tingles of oversensitivity running over your clit. 

He keeps his eyes on your face, hungry and wild. “Uh uh,” he mumbles against you, still licking. 

You squirm, trying to get away from his tongue even as pleasure starts to build up again. You know that if you really wanted him to stop all you had to do was say the word and he would. 

This time your orgasm builds faster, hardly waiting until your first has finished. 

You rock against his mouth, moving with him as he sneaks his hand under your ass and starts to urge you to chase his tongue. 

He presses into you harder, pushing at you with his hand until you’re nearly curled up on yourself. And he doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you pause as he pushes you closer and closer, relentless in his need to get you to cum on his tongue one more time. 

Your moan reaches an even higher pitch as you grasp at the cushions and sofa, trying to gain any traction to thrust up against him harder. 

Nathan takes his cue, quickly latching onto your clit and sucking, flicking the tip of his tongue lightly over the very tip and you scream. 

Pleasure burns along your nerves, whiting out your vision as you buck against him uncontrollably, cumming so hard you see stars. 

He moans, continuously sucking and following your movements, allowing you to rut against his face however you want as you cum. 

The next thing you know he’s kneeling between your open legs, his beard satuatured with your wetness. 

He suddenly doesn’t look ill at all, and you begin you wonder if you’ve been had. 

For a second he watches your chest rapidly rise and fall as your breathing slows before he is taking himself in hand and notching the head of his fat cock at your entrance. 

His eyes flick up to your face for a second, silently asking. 

You nod, too exhausted to do much more, and then he’s pushing in. 

You gasp, the stretch of him is always a little surprising at first, especially when you’re spread this wide. 

Nathan bites his lip, easing in slowly and gazing down at you like you’re a banquet set out just for him. 

He slides in deeper, inching himself in and running his hand up the back of your left thigh, pressing firmly and helping to angle you so your leg is flush against his stomach and chest. 

You let out a little whine as he bucks, finally sheathing himself completely. 

Nathan gasps, his eyes rolling back as your walls squeeze him, and holds on tightly to the leg pressed to his chest. 

He doesn’t start to thrust harshly like you expect, doesn’t piston in and out of you, instead, he starts to grind slowly, barely pulling out and keeping you pressed tightly against him. 

His fingers dig into your leg, his other hand going down to softly circle your throbbing clit as he rocks and buries his face into your calf. 

You can tell he’s close, the way his stomach muscles tense, how his eyes are screwed shut. You move a little, leaning up slightly so you can meet his deep grinds. For a second, you open your mouth to speak, intending to tell him that it’s okay, that he should just let go and cum like you know he’s desperate to. 

But he moves his leg forward, changing the angle he’s kneeling at and you sob in pleasure as his head hits perfectly deep. 

You fall back a little with the intensity, unable to control yourself as he moves and does it again. 

His eyes are open ever so slightly now, watching you with his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpering as you fall apart under him. 

“There?” He whispers and you nod, sobbing as he repeatedly grindes into you, pushing firmly against the same spot over, and over, and over. 

You’re unable to form words, unable to think as he just keeps rocking, pushing you further and further into the sofa, splitting you open so completely and shattering your sanity. 

You don’t know how much more of this you can take, pleasure running like a live wire along every nerve so that it’s almost painful, almost too much to bear. 

Nathan lets out a deep groan, slipping ever so slightly forward so that he has to put his hand next to your head, almost caging you in. His eyebrows pinched together in ecstasy. “Baby…” 

And that’s it. That’s what throws you over the edge. 

You grab hold of his shoulders as you cum, hard. Surprised at the suddenness and intensity. The force of it robs you of words, of breath as you shake and tense, your toes curling as you clench down on his cock and milk him for everything he’s got. 

Nathan cums a second later, watching you fall apart and moaning out your name as he feels you pulse around him. He keeps himself fully in you, cumming as deeply as he can before pressing his forehead to yours and breathing deeply. 

“I feel better.” He whispers, worn out and exhausted, before he kisses you. 

____________________________________ 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @mbakubabe @whatthefishh @romanarose @pimosworld @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x reader #x reader #nathan bateman x you #x you #nathan bateman x female reader #x female reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

This Didn't Happen

Notes: Just a silly thing; prompts 7 & 15 taken from this Morning After prompt list.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Sexual implications; behavior expected of our fave billionaire stinky bastard man

Summary: Had you gone to the conference planning to sleep with Nathan Bateman? No.

Had you? Yes.

Were you regretting it? Absolutely.

"Stop smiling at me."

"I'm not smiling."

"Yes you are."

"How do you know? You're not even looking at me."

"I don't need to look at you, I can feel it from here." You tried to smooth your rumpled clothing before drawing in a deep breath to steady yourself, gathering your thoughts.

Had you gone to the conference planning to sleep with Nathan Bateman? No.

Had you? Yes.

Were you regretting it? Absolutely.

The sex had been (insanely, mind-bogglingly) good. You were still sensitive, still buzzing from your orgasm as you tried to plan a graceful exit. It was proving difficult, given the circumstances—but there was no smooth way to dip out of a one night stand. Almost all of the conference attendees were staying at the same hotel as you were. What if you ran into someone that you knew in the hallway? Your wrinkled clothes would give you away immediately.

You gathered your courage before you forced yourself to turn and look at him.

Nathan was smiling—lounging in the bed with a satisfied smirk as he put his glasses back on and fixed you with a knowing gaze. You wanted to slap the look off of his face, but some part of you was certain that he would enjoy it. Not only was he smiling, but he looked criminally gorgeous. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from exertion; his forehead was still dotted with sweat; you were trying to ignore the few streaks of irritated skin where your nails had dug into his shoulder.

"We're not gonna cuddle?" He teased, brows waggling. You scoffed, turning away and beginning to hunt around his hotel room for your shoes.

"Listen, Bateman—"

"You have my attention."

"Good, 'cause I'm really gonna need you to focus up right now." You faced him again, planting your hands on your hips and forcing a stern set to your brow. "This didn't happen. Got it?"

"Didn't it?"

"No."

Nathan blinked at you a couple of times, lips curling into a teasing smile as he glanced toward to marks on his shoulder.

"Huh. Then I wonder where these came from."

"The mystery may never be solved." Son of a bitch, where are you goddamn shoes—

"So if anyone asks what we got up to this evening—?"

"Make something up," You snapped.

"What's your alibi?"

"I'll figure it out when I get back to my room."

"What if you run into someone in the elevator and they ask?"

"I'll make something up."

"You oughta brainstorm now. You don't improvise well."

"Thanks for the tip."

"They're under the desk."

"What?"

"Your shoes."

You went still, slowly glancing in that direction, and wincing when you spotted them. How the hell did they get under there?

"You kicked them off," Nathan added. "Almost broke your neck. Remember?"

You ignored the goad, picking them up and hurriedly pulling them on before heading for the door. You heard the rustle of sheets as Nathan pushed them off of his lap and stood.

"Hey," He called out.

"What?"

"You sure this never happened?"

"Positive."

You reached for the doorknob, freezing as Nathan crowded up against your back. You shivered at the feeling of his body pressing against yours, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I hope it doesn't happen again sometime," He murmured. You began to turn to look back at him, only to spot yourself in a small mirror by the door. Your eyes narrowed as you spotted a mark blooming on your neck, and you couldn't stop yourself from whirling around to look at him.

"Did you really have to leave a giant hickey on my neck?!"

Nathan smirked, gaze sweeping over your face before he tipped his head to the side, getting a better look at the hickey.

"What makes you think I did that?"

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda ; @foxilayde ; @rachelwritesstuff

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #prompts

[melodygatesauthor]

How Romantic

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader

Blurb 10 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

Nathan wasn’t the roses and wine type of romantic.

Nathan was the type of romantic to build an android based on your porn search history so he could give you the night of your life, holding you up between himself and the bot and lowering you down on both their cocks simultaneously. He even made the bot a little bigger than himself because the videos you watched always had a girl with her asshole stretched out around a fatter dick than his.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, honey?” Nathan asked, alternating his thrusts in time with the android.

“Mm,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

He chuckled, “You’re acting like such a fuckin’ crybaby for someone who practically begged for this, you know that?” He huffed in your ear, picking up speed. “I mean, you knew I’d see what you were looking up, I bet this is what you were hoping for isn’t it?”

You nodded, even though you hadn’t really thought Nathan would be selfless enough to use time and resources on your sexual fantasies. You knew part of him must’ve been interested in seeing you like this.

“You know what else?” His movements slowed, and you felt the android follow suit, “I saw how much you replayed that one part where the girl got fucking s-stuffed, fuck…”

Not only did you feel the heat of Nathan’s spend painting the insides of your greedy cunt, you felt the android halt, thick cock pulsating and filling your asshole deep with spend. That was fucking cum…

Nathan smirked against your ear, “feel familiar? That’s all me honey, had my shit stored up in a freezer so I could really give you something special.”

You could always count on Nathan to be full of surprises…

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman FanFiction #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman fan fiction #nathan bateman ex Machina #nathan bateman fanfic #nathan bateman fic #ex Machina FanFiction #ex Machina fic #ex Machina smut #ex Machina fan fiction #nathan bateman smut

[boredzillenial]

Data

Your boss Nathan needs your body “for science”

Themes: DEAD DOVE DNE - dark!Nathan, kidnapping, sensory deprivation, fingering, oral breast play (f!receiving), jerking off

A.N: contains railroad sentences and my rusty attempt at improving prose 🤣 thank you @lunar-ghoulie for putting up with me

Word count: idk at the moment it’s short

“Show yourself you son of a bitch!” Your voice reverberated against the stark walls, “I know you’re there Nathan!” You twisted and writhed against your restraints to no avail.

Nathan, your boss, had invited you to come out to his estate. In an excess of caution you’d chosen to politely decline. What you hadn’t realized was his invitation was not a request, but a heads up.

You took a moment to breath and take notice of the different points of pressure on your body. Whatever he’d used to bind you you was soft but firm against your wrists, chest, waist and ankles. Your back pressed against hard cool material, the scent in the room clean and chilled air blew across your exposed skin.

You rolled your head from side to side in an attempt to wiggle the fabric from around your eyes but it didn’t budge.

“That’s not gonna work.” Nathan’s bored voice sounded from somewhere in the room.

You froze, “Nathan-“ you grated “let me go.”

“Nathan let me go.” He mocked, “Do you really think I’d go through the trouble of getting you here only to let you loose?”

Your lip curled in agitation as you snapped against the restraints. “What do you want.”

A fingertip pressed against your ankle “What I want,” he said slowly as that sensation snaked its way up your leg, “is data.” His touch paused at the line between your hip and thigh.

“What?” You growled in confusion. “I swear to fucking god Nathan when I’m out of here-“ the removal of sensation on your skin stalled your brazen words.

“Threatening your captor, interesting choice.” His voice still sounded bored amongst the rustling beside you.

“Interesting choice to kidnap me*eeee*.” Your retort was cut short when something firmly pressed against your core and vibrated furiously. It was too much all at once and you feebly bucked only to be met with the tight restrain across your hips. The curse in your throat twisted to a groan, “F-fuck yo-u.”

“Another curse -“ you could practically hear the eye roll in his tone, his next words breathed hot across your ear “so predictable.”

You tilted your face toward him with a smirk, if he wanted to play games let’s see what happened if you played along. “U-up a bit, and to the left.”

“Attagirl.” He chuckled and followed your direction. Your back arched and strained as your breath caught in your throat.

You’d quickly climbed to your peak with the precision and pressure, your breath coming in ragged pants. Just as you came so close to release the sensation vanished, leaving you crashing back to earth.

A choked whine wrung from your throat. “Why.” You whimpered.

“Measuring heart rate, perspiration…” a finger slid along your slick folds “arousal.”

You breath caught in your chest at the sudden sensation of two thick fingers plunged deep into your core. Nathan took his time moving around, scissoring his fingers inside as he tsked “still tight.”

“Nathan please.” You murmured, the stretching sensation growing to be uncomfortable.

“Why are you getting tighter?” From his tone he might as well have been asking a casual scientific question in a clinic.

“Doesn’t feel good.” You grumbled “not like that.”

Nathan’s hand adjusted, two fingers remained deep inside, but this time he added his thumb to press against your clit. “What about like this.” He drew slow firm circles and pumped slowly.

Your breathing picked up while a coil of pleasure twisted low in your belly. Despite your head swimming with pleasure you heard Nathan’s soft voice off to the side, “Slickness increase and vaginal relaxation with stimulation to the clitoris.”

“Are you - taking notes?” You huffed between breathes.

“I told you, I need data.” He said in annoyance. “Fuck sake.” He growled.

You heard a rustling near your head and the sound of spit hitting skin made you jerk. “What the fuck.”

“Shut up.” He snipped, his breath hitched as soft squelching sounded beside your head. The moment his fingering matched the pace of the noise beside your head you realized what was happening.

“You’re - jerking off?” You huffed.

“Want me to stuff it in your mouth?” He retorted. You snapped your head away, eliciting a sardonic huff from Nathan.

The squelching noise and his breathing picked up pace as his fingers worked. You groaned and arched against the pleasure building, gasping at a sudden wet tingling feeling on your nipple.

The stroke of his tongue as it lapped at the stiffened peak encouraged you to arch further, pushed you even closer to the edge.

A soft pop sounded and you whined in protest at the loss “Vaginal tightening with oral stimulation to breast.” He muttered, returning his warm mouth back to your breast with a hum. The rough tickle of his beard across your skin mixed deliciously with the swirling around your stiffened peak.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves as his hands and mouth worked in tandem. “S-shit!” The ministrations sent you bucking against the restraints and your breath in ragged pants.

Another groan vibrated your nipple sent fire through your nerves before it vanished. The fingers buried deep in your core and against your sensitive nub picked up to an uneven pace. A wrecked groan sounded from above you as warm wet ropes splattered across your chest.

Despite the ringing in your ears you heard Nathan growl in annoyance, “Data inconclusive, requires further testing.” Something fluffy wiped between your legs picking up the mess of slickness there before wiping up the white painted on your skin.

“Further testing?” You voice was weak and broken as you came back to reality.

“If I’m gonna make robots I’d actually wanna fuck I gotta get it right.” His voice moved about the room accompanied by rustling. “Movement, viscosity, tightness. I need so much if it’s gonna feel real and, well, it’s gonna take awhile if I keep getting… distracted…”

———————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar

#nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman #Nathan Bateman ex Machina #ex machina #oscar isaac characters #Oscar Isaac ex machina

[foxilayde]

Conversion Rates [Nathan Bateman x Reader]

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Nathan gets some unexpected news.

Warnings: Cigarettes, talk about death, talk about blood, brief mention of oral sex.

A/N: Feel free to ignore 💚

There’s buzzing coming from Nathan’s side of the bed. Long and persistent enough that it appears in your dreams, morphs into reality, and annoys you to the point of shoving your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Get it.” You grunt, peeking a bleary eye open to the clock at your own night table. 3:55am. Only someone with a death wish would be calling Nathan at this hour.

“I’m gonna kill whoever that is.” Nathan is haplessly searching for his glasses, he groans when he finds them and flips the blankets off of himself to then locate the source of the buzzing. The person must’ve called again because the buzzing has been going on for at least a minute.

“Whomever.” You yawn.

“What’d you say” Nathan grunts distractedly while pawing the sheets, searching for his phone.

“Nothing.”

“Were you correcting my grammar? At four in the goddamn morning?”

“Hey don’t get cranky on me. I’m not the one calling.” You sleepily smile at him as he shakes his head, “go back to sleep,” he mutters to you when he answers the call.

“What?” Nathan answers simply, the greeting replete with annoyance. He’s scratching his head and then suddenly his hand stops like it forgot what it was supposed to be doing. His back goes rigid and he shakes his head quickly before swallowing and swinging his legs out to rest on the floor, elbows on knees, forehead in palm.

“Yeah I’m here… mmhmm…yeah.. Sure…. Yeah… okay…” He sighs a lot and rubs his head, h is eyes, his beard. This doesn’t sound like a work emergency. You scoot close to him and soothe his back in long slow strokes. He puts a hand on your knee.

“Yeah. Friday…. Uh huh. Okay thanks— no, not— … I don’t know what to say, Aimes. It’s fucking four am over here…. That’s….. alright fine, whatever, see you Friday… yeah you can tell her. Fine, don’t tell her, tell her, either way I’m— I’ll be there…. Yeah. Okay it’s okay, I’m fucking—……. Yeah. Got it…. Bye.”

Nathan’s jaw clenches and one breath after hanging up he hurls his phone across the room and against the concrete wall in an over handed frisbee-type toss. It cracks against the wall and thuds on the rug.

“Oh, that one got some air. Eight point seven. I’m deducting a point for lack of expletive. Couldn’t even give me a ‘bastard’? Disappointing, Bateman. You’ll never make it to regionals with that attitude.”

Nathan pulls both hands down his face and lays back down. Not in a joking mood. It’s quite possible he didn’t hear you at all.

“Was it work?” You ask quietly, changing your tone to something softer, something more befitting the early hour and the mystified expression on his face.

“No.” He breaths. Your eyes fall to the smithereened phone.

“Where are you going on Friday?”

“Hmmm?”

“You said something about being there Friday? Where’s there?”

“New York.”

“But not HQ?”

“No.”

Nathan puts his arms behind his head and stares impassively at his reflection in the mirrored ceiling. He is nowhere near a playful mood, so it’s a mystery to you why he’s making you play 20 questions, but as long as he’s answering, you’ll keep asking. Your first instinct is to inquire how many questions of the twenty remain, but his face reminds you of the early hour and you think better of it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offer sincerely.

Nathan blinks several times but does not answer.

“You want to go back to sleep?”

Nathan sighs and shakes his head slightly.

“You want me to make you a smoothie? Or some matcha just the way you like it? I promise I’ll use the whisk and not a fork this time.”

No response.

“Although I’d like to do the Pepsi test on you with that and see if you really can taste the difference.”

“Honey.”

“You gotta admit, it’s a little pretentious.”

“My dad’s dead.”

“What?”

“Funeral’s on Friday. New York. That was Amy.” His face is impassive as ever. You however flip the fuck out.

“OH my GOD. Nathan!” You opt out of a crushing hug and gently place your hand over his heart instead. “I’m so sorry.” Your brow furrows. “What happened?”

“Heart attack.”

“Nathan, I’m so sorry.” You repeat, at a loss for words.

“Hey, if he didn’t want to die from a heart attack, he should have taken better care of himself.” Nathan pulls the rumpled sheet over himself and turns to face you. “C’mere. Let’s go back to sleep.” He beckons you to your little spoon spot with one grabby hand.

You don’t ask him if he’s sure, let alone ask him if he’d rather talk about it. Something like this is going to take your boyfriend months to process. You scoot back against him and kiss his hand.

“Don’t for a second think this gets you out of our 6am trail run, by the way.” He grumbles and kisses your shoulder.

You pat his arm, the one that crosses your chest and holds you flush against him. “You don’t think we could skip the hell trail, I mean the trail run, just this once? I mean, we should probably pack. We’ve still gotta helicopter out of here and plus the time difference in New York, Friday is technically only… fifty one hours from now. Your family probably needs help? With things— arrangements?”

“You don’t have to go with me.”

“Oh shut up, of course I’m going, you nut.”

“This is so fucking typical of him.”

“What is? Perishing?”

“Fucking up everything.”

“Yes. Very rude of him to die on this the morning of our trail run. What an asshole.”

“You think I’m kidding. I’m not kidding. He made it his life’s goal to be as much of a burden as he possibly could. Died as he fucking lived.”

“Hey now, save some of that heartfelt sentimentality for the eulogy.”

*******

“I’m not speaking. Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Nathan, come on. You have to say some words. They don’t have to be true, you just go up and say “He will be missed” and you can leave out the “just not by me” part. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Can’t believe Amy would just assume that I’m going to do it and stick it in the fucking program.”

“Totally, who does she think you are? The only son of the man who died, or something? Pretty presumptuous of her.” You roll your eyes.

Nathan takes an angry drag from what is probably his twentieth cigarette of the day, and it’s only noon. You didn’t even know he smoked until you landed in New York and his first stop was at the Bronx Boulevard Bodega and Deli for a pack of Viceroy 100s.

“You keep staring at me like that and your face is gonna get stuck that way.” Was the only ‘conversation’ the two of you had about the revisited habit when he lit up in the back of the towncar on your way from his mom’s place to the church on Tinton Ave.

Cars honk and whiz by. It’s dry and exceptionally cold for April, you tug your black coat closer around your middle. Nathan doesn’t flinch to the temperature in his thin black wool blazer, still in agitated ponderance, still pissed off at his dead father. He’s been standing outdoors most of the day already. Excusing himself to his mother’s porch to chain smoke all by himself in lieu of making small talk at the pre-funeral breakfast with his mother, sister, and yourself.

You check your watch before tucking your arm back around yourself in a contained shiver.

“Service starts in ten minutes. You think we should head in?”

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you in there.”

“Seriously Nate, lets go.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do okay, you’re not my mother.”

“Oh shit, you’re right I’m not. She is inside though. I can go get her if you want. She’s passing out programs right now for her dead husband’s funeral services, but I’m sure she’d be willing to stop the world and burp you, or whatever the hell you need that’ll make you stop acting like a child.”

“Fuck off, alright?” His Bronx accent gets thicker with each passing cancer stick.

“You know, it pains me to say it, but for as much as you hate your father…”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t have to, you already know.”

Nathan flips the lid of his cigarettes, curses, crumples the Viceroy box, and shoves it back in his pocket.

“Out of excuses are we?” You’re trying to be supportive, you really really are, but he’s being fucking ridiculous. You loop your arm around his, hoping he’ll be too upset and distracted to stop you from leading him into the church.

He lets you take him two steps forward before halting. “I haven’t been in there since I was fifteen.”

“Looks intimidating.” You nod at the tall dark grey stone walls and narrow strips of stained glass.

“‘It’s fucking creepy is what it is.”

“Are you… scared? Of seeing him?”

“Who? The lifesize bloody effigy of Christ the redeemer suspended from the middle of the ceiling? Yeah, a little. Did I ever tell you that my first nightmare as a child was thinking I was caught in a tropical rainstorm in my bedroom, but then, I look up, and its a fifty foot tall man in a loincloth and barbed wire crown floating above me, bleeding on me in these fat, red drops—“

“Holy shit— no, what the fuck? I’m talking about seeing your dad. About the open casket… fuck me. We’ll unpack that levitating son-of-god nightmare later.”

“I haven’t spoken to my dad in… I don’t know. I don’t even remember the last time we talked on the phone. I’m trying….to remember the last time I saw his face and… I….can’t.”

Nathan swallows hard and looks up at the overcast sky. He’s, choked up, his chin quivers angrily.

“Some holiday probably. If there even was a holiday in the last ten years that he spent someplace other than that hole on 165th.” He shakes his head and bites his lip in resolve. “I can’t do it, honey. I can’t go in there for him. I can’t do this this when he would have never—“

“Then don’t do it for him.” You squeeze the crook of his elbow. “Do it for your mom, who misses her husband. Do it for Amy, who is equally as fucking pissed at her dad but had to organize this whole funeral anyway, without any help.” You poke his chest.

Nathan grimaces.

“And most importantly, do it for me.” You peck him on his cringing lips, “because I am fucking freeeezing.” He kisses you again and you pull back and grin at the novel tang. “So that’s what Mac DeMarco’s ashtray tastes like, I’ve always wondered.”

He smiles for the first time in days. It’s a little one, but it’s there. “I’ll do it. I’ll go in, I’ll speak. For you. But, you owe me.”

“You still accept blowjobs as payment, I assume?”

“Yeah but the conversion rate in New York is much higher than in Norway.”

“Wow, how randomly convenient for you. The rich just keep getting richer, don’t they?”

Nathan gives your butt a tap to usher you inside. “That’s economics for you.”

END

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Ex Machina FanFiction #Oscar Isaac

[bits-and-babs]

Okay okay okay that prompt list had my brain GOING. Would you do sugar daddy, praise, and overstimulation with Nathan Bateman? I’d also love if there was some aftercare thrown in but I don’t wanna get greedy 😅 write whatever you’re most comfortable with!

15. aftercare . 34. sugar daddy . 38. overstimulation nathan bateman masterlist || main masterlist

“Fuck yes,” Nathan breathes, awe tingeing his foul words as he watches you cum all over his fingers. You’re twisting, writhing against the mattress as he continues his assault on your clit.

It’s too much, it’s overwhelming, it hurts. You’re edging up the mattress as you kick your feet pathetically, attempting to escape the thumb baring down on your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Please!” You beg, sobbing out Nathan’s name. He finally relents, releasing your body as you tremble and quake against the bed. Tears dry in your hairline, muscles aching after cramping and tensing against the pleasure.

“I’ve got you,” he mumbles, gently sweeping his knuckles across your cheeks to swipe away any residual tear-tracks. You look up at him through your lashes, watching him run his hands over your naked skin. It’s tender, soothing, the sexual intent of his touches discarded and forgotten about alongside the keys to your brand new Porsche on the beside table.

“You need some water?” He asks you, an ever so slight lilt to his voice that indicates he’s trying to care for you. You shake your head, needing nothing but him- nothing but this. Nathan nods.

A silence falls between you at first, his hands continuing to smooth over the peaks and troughs of your body on an attempt to ease the muscles beneath.

“You like the car?”

“Mhm-hm,” you nod slowly, watching him study the contours of your torso.

“Don’t think I can fuck you in there though,” his blunt attitude shines through, even now.

“… There’s always the hood.”

Nathan smiles.

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman x y/n #nathan bateman fanfic #nathan bateman fic #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman x female reader #ex machina #ex machina fanfic #ex machina fic #ex machina smut #ex machina fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #જ⁀➴ mail: received

[spacecowboyhotch]

In Plain Sight: The Indoctrination of Nathan Bateman

summary: nathan lets you in.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/nsfw/minors dni, hurt comfort, sad!nathan, illusions to alcoholism, family angst, illusions to child abuse, vulnerable!nathan

wc: 1730

an: we’re back and today’s in plain sight saga lets us into nathan’s brain and background.

in plain sight masterlist | planted | little hamlet

Today starts like every other day for you. Days have melded and melted together since your mother’s death, and so today is like any other. One day at a time, that’s what Nathan had said to do. He’s been good to you. Great to you. So understanding and patient and forgiving as you navigate taking care of your sisters through this rough time. He’s been taking care of you. It’s strange to feel dependent on someone when you’ve been independent for so long.

Its stranger that that person is Nathan— he loves you, sure, he can be romantic and witty and kind. But, how he’s taken care of you over the last 3 months has been selfless, he’s been the most thoughtful person you’ve ever met. And while he had committed to growth as a person to win you over, you couldn’t have said you expected him to be so gracious. It’s a pleasant surprise. An indicator you gave the right man the right chance.

You aren’t just expecting him to wake up ready and willing to pull the weight like he has for these last few months. He’s allowed to be tired, to need space or a break to deal with his own shit and you have no issue with that. But, when you come into work today Nathan is nowhere to be found. The house is eerily quiet.

Your stomach flips a little, the alarm bells ringing in your head. But then you take a deep breath and center yourself, working that anxiety from a 7 to a 4. Because not everything has to be the fight it used to be, not with him by your side. Not with the promises he’s made to you.

Maybe he’s sat in the kitchen too wrapped up in his laptop to have realized what time it is or that you’ve arrived. When you get to the kitchen, you quickly realize that’s not the case. It's empty– clean as always, but empty. You check the coffee maker, it's loaded but not on and brewing like it usually is. You sigh, setting your bag on the dining table, mentally starting to make a game plan on finding him.

He could be many places in this neverending bunker he calls a home. Sometimes you tease him, calling him a princess locked in some ivory tower. It always gets you an eye roll, some whiny smart ass comment, and when he’s feeling particularly vindictive, some intense tickling. Those moments, like most of the moments you have with Nathan, have you ready to pinch yourself in disbelief. Believing the man you now share a life with used to be your grumpy, narcissistic boss is a mindfuck– but you chose to believe it, you choose to believe him because of how surprisingly easy it is to love him.

Turning back towards the counter, you start the coffee maker and head into the living room. You’re not surprised that he isn’t there, he would’ve said something by now. You head downstairs to the offices and work rooms, stopping in your office first. You find it empty.

The trail begins. You pop your head into every lab, ever office, every closet, nook and cranny. And eventually after expanding your search you find Nathan where you least expect him…in bed.

Curled up under his blanket, an unopened bottle of beer sitting on his nightstand. It’s dark, just the light of his alarm clock.

You step into the room, coming to rest on your knees to get a closer look at him. His eyes are open, glassy and obviously red, even in the limited light. You’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s seeing a ghost or maybe nothing at all. He doesn’t even move when you wave a hand in front of his face.

“Baby?” You whisper, voice colored with worry.

Nathan blinks, jumping back ever so slightly to sit up like he’s just returned from another dimension. For just a moment, there’s fear in his eyes and then he’s squeezing them shut, clenching his fist together. When his eyes finally meet yours he looks a little more like himself.

“What are you doing down here?” He asks softly, running a hand over his buzzed hair.

“I got in for work and I couldn’t find you.”

“Shit, what fucking time—“ He looks over at the clock, pinching his nose when he sees the time. “Fuck.”

“Nathan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I lost track of time. Didn’t sleep well. You know the feeling,” Nathan’s tone isn’t unkind or dismissive— it never is anymore, when it comes to you— but it is markedly avoidant.

“Nathan.”

“Honey,” He counters, rising out of bed. He reaches for the beer bottle on his nightstand, and throws it in the trash before start towards his bathroom.

“We don’t do that,” You say, following after him.

He stops just shy of the door, turning around to raise a brow at you, “Do what, honey?”

“Lie.”

“You’re accusing me of lying right now?”

You cross your arms against your chest, and for the first time in a long time, you fix Nathan with that look that initially drew him in. Nonsensical and fiery; confrontational. “I am.”

“I don’t lie. I have no reason to fucking lie.”

“Nathan, get real,” You murmur gently.

“I am real. Would you stop it with the fucking pushing?”

“When…when we first started this, I wanted to hide too. The shit with my mom, with my sisters, all the managing— I didn’t know if you’d still want me if you knew about the massive baggage. But you told me that we’re trying. Trying to be there and trying to love each other the best we can. You’ve done that for me every single day, and even more so since my mom died. I think it’s only fair if you let me do that for you too.”

Nathan looks at you like you’re some foreign object he’s seeing for the first time. Like he’s a lost, terrified puppy who’s finally receiving some care. Maybe it was silly of you to think that because your love was steady that he’d let go, that he’d open up completely. But you want him to, want him to feel utterly safe, to show you all the sides of him. That side that’s looking at you right now, skittish and broken. You love him regardless. It’s your turn to remind him of that, if he’ll let you.

“Say something. Anything,” You murmur quietly, reaching out to lace your fingers together.

His gaze falls to where your hands meet, and then he sits heavily on the bed, pulling you with him.

After a noticeable silence, several harsh breaths from him, like he’s trying to find the air to find the words he says, “Today…I fucking hate today.”

“Yeah? Tell me why it sucks, baby.”

“I don’t—honey, I don’t really…it’s their anniversary. My parents. The Batemans,” He frowns, his voice laced with disgust.

“They weren’t good to you.”

“No, they weren’t. The only person who’s ever been good to me, is me. Until I met you,” He adds, his mouth curling up in a smile.

You squeeze his hand, resting your head on his shoulder. “Why their anniversary?”

“Fuck, sweetheart, really?”

“I just want to understand you. Let me carry it with you, Nathan. You’ve done it alone long enough don’t you think?”

“Alright,” He says, his voice much harder than he means for it to be. He clears his throat, squeezes your hand in apology, and repeats, “Alright. I’m a fucking pipsqueak. I mean small, tiny, maybe like 6 or 7. It’s their anniversary and like a fucking chump, I make them a card. It takes all day. All fucking day, honey and I—“

“You what?” You encourage him gently.

“I was so fucking excited. Buzzing with it. Vibrating. Used their favorite colors, drew us all together like we were one big happy fucking family. And when I…when I gave it to them...” Nathan trails off, shaking his head. He leans further into you, desperate for some safety, some warmth so that he can keep going. Keep showing you like you want.

“They’re scum, I mean who talks to a fucking kid like that? It wasn’t fucking Picasso so it was trash. They shit all over it and I…from that day on it was like I decided to be the bigger asshole. I had to hate them more than they hated me.”

“You deserve so much better than that Nathan. Then and now, and every moment in between. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” He shrugs, running a hand over his face.

You reach for it, pushing it away so that you can cup his jaw, turn his gaze towards yours. “Then I’ll know for us. You trust me don’t you?”

Nathan’s eyes are misty, and you can tell that he’s fighting to hold his tears in. He nods, smiles a little, “With the codes to the nukes, baby.”

“Then trust me with your heart too. I promise I’ll always cherish it.”

“God, you—you’re out of this fucking world.”

“Yeah, I love you too,” You tease with a grin.

“I was gonna say that. Where’s that patience you hound me about?” He asks, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands rub at your hips tenderly, reverently.

“Misplaced,” You quip, looping your arms around his neck. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“For my birthday…make me a card?”

“Honey—“

You lean in, eyes wide and round, pressing your mouth against his as you murmur, “Please? I want it. It’s the only thing I want…well cake.”

“Don’t forget obedience.”

“You’ll give that to me anyway. Please, Nathan?”

He knows that the moment you want something, if its in his power, it’s yours. And Nathan can certainly make you a card with his bare hands. It’s one of the easiest, smallest things you’ve ever asked him for.

“Alright, fine, sure thing.”

“Do you have crayons?”

He laughs. “Do I look like a guy who owns fucking crayons?”

“We’re going to Michael’s— get dressed.”

“You’re pushing it.”

“It’s what I do. Showered, dressed. I’ll make some breakfast.”

“Hey,” He calls after you, reaching for your hand as you turn to walk away.

“Mhmm?”

“I love you,” He says firmly, bringing your hand up to his mouth.

“Ditto, baby.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller, @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333, @reallyrallyauthor

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #x reader

[alwaysmicado]

smile, baby

5.1k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: D/s dynamic, drinking, degradation, orgasm denial, masturbation (m), spitting, big fat cumshot Summary: Nathan teaches you a lesson in submission. You hate love it. A/N: Filth with heart. I can't be normal about this man, okay? Can be read alone or as a prequel to in control and predator & prey. Enjoy and let me know what you think! 🤍

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Giving up control. Being able to turn your brain off.”

– – –

“What are we doing tonight?” You sit down on the couch beside Nathan, a glass of wine in hand. 

“I’m watching TV,” he answers coldly without as much as a glance in your direction.

“Hmm…okay,” you murmur. You take a generous sip from your glass, appreciating Nathan’s excellent taste in wine. It’s your favorite; you discovered it on a trip to France during your college years and haven’t been able to find it since then. 

What an incredible coincidence that he would just have it here, right?

Not right.

Unbeknownst to you, Nathan meticulously arranged every single detail of your living environment before you even crossed the threshold of his mansion for the first time. 

The exquisite wine you now sip, seemingly a stroke of luck, was deliberately stocked to align with your taste. Much like the lavender shampoo that envelops you in its soothing fragrance during each shower, the never-ending supply of fresh strawberries, and the perpetually replenishing KitKats in your minibar, each aspect of your surroundings has been carefully curated to ensure your every comfort is met.

You haven’t really picked up on that fact yet, as you’re still in the process of settling into your new, exciting, but overwhelming environment.

In the two weeks since moving in, you’ve immersed yourself in the intricacies of artificial intelligence, navigating the uncharted waters of innovation under Nathan’s eccentric mentorship.

And eccentric, he is.

It took you five minutes of mostly one-sided conversation to realize that his intellect, an unmatched force of brilliance, is rivaled only by the staggering magnitude of his ego.

And, even more strikingly, it took you just as little time to realize you’ve never craved another human being as badly as you do him. There’s just something about him…beneath all the arrogance and assholery. You can’t put your finger on it, but you feel it’s there.

Nathan sensed your immediate attraction to him, of course, reading your microexpressions and body language. And after a few days of subtle teasing, he decided to give you a small taste of pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of, only to leave you without it for the past week since then.

Beyond lingering glances, the subtle brush of his hand against the small of your back in the kitchen, the knowing smirk when he catches you stealing glances at the bulge in his shorts, or his deliberate choice to work out shirtless—Nathan has been purposefully cold, relishing in your growing desperation.

For him, this is more than a game; he revels in a level of amusement he hasn’t experienced in years.

He could never get the androids to look at him with the same intensity, hunger, and raw need he can see in your eyes, and the control he now holds over your desires is a source of unparalleled satisfaction.

He definitely made the right choice by selecting you.

Nestling your feet under you in an attempt to find comfort on the cushion, you silently study your boss’s profile, observing as he brings the fourth bottle of beer to his lips. Your eyes slowly trace the distinct contours of his nose, the meticulous lines of his beard, the strength evident in his neck and shoulders, until they finally reach the casual sprawl of his naked feet at rest on the coffee table.

His lidded eyes remain unwaveringly fixated on the screen as he leisurely surfs through the channels, a deliberate act of indifference that extends to ignoring your presence. You nervously chew on your lip, trying your hardest not to break the silence first, even though you so obviously want to.

Seemingly absorbed in the movie he settled on, Nathan is keenly aware of your eyes repeatedly drifting towards him, lingering for a few seconds before retreating reluctantly back to the indifferent glow of the screen. 

You’re so cute when you’re trying to be coy. 

“Did you think of me?” he asks suddenly, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Did I…huh?” you respond, startled, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He turns his head to look at you, his face revealing no emotion, his dark eyes piercing yours. A shiver runs down your spine as his gaze drops to your lips for a split second before finding your sparkling eyes again. 

“When you were fucking yourself with that purple dildo last night. Did you think of me?” He peers at you with a straight face, casually taking another sip from his bottle. 

“Wha–”

Your heart skips a beat, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks as his words hang in the air. Shocked and exposed, your eyes widen, and your body tenses. After a few endless seconds, surprise turns into a mixture of anger and humiliation as you figure out how he knows.

Mother. Fucker. There’s a fucking camera in your room.

“No need to act embarrassed, baby,” he scoffs. “You put on quite a show.”

“It’s not technically a show when I’m unaware that my pervy boss is watching me, though, is it?” you snap at him, crossing your arms defensively in front of your chest.

“Yeah, well. It’s all in the NDA you signed.”

“Oh, of course it is,” you chuckle incredulously, looking up at the high ceiling of the living room. 

“Did you think of me?” Nathan asks again, his eyes not leaving you.

“Uh...yeah, I did.” You down the rest of your wine in one go.

“Tell me about it.”

You sigh deeply. “You saw everything, so why don’t you tell me?” you say, unsuccessfully trying to mask your embarrassment with annoyance.

Nathan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond.

When he had you on your knees in front of him a week ago, hands tied behind your back, allowing you a few seconds to catch your breath before going back to fucking your throat, he asked if you’d thought of him while touching yourself. You were flying high at that point, teetering on the edge, so desperate for release that you would have admitted anything he asked.

And so, you blurted out the truth. 

He can tell you regret it now, but that only makes him want to push you further. The thought of forcing you to admit what you want, what you are, has his cock hardening in his sweatpants. 

“Okay, fine,” you murmur, unable to take the deafening silence anymore. You clear your throat and shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“I couldn’t fall asleep and thought…you know, an orgasm might help. So I started with my hand, trying to get myself off as fast as possible. But then, um, that wasn’t enough,” you trail off, your gaze avoiding his, and you set the empty wine glass on the coffee table with a sigh.

“Look at me, baby.”

Nathan studies your face, typically adorned with a confident smile, and feels a surge of satisfaction as he takes in your dilated pupils and bashful expression. This is turning you on.

“Continue.”

“My fingers weren’t enough, so I thought I could use the toy I brought. I, um,” you inhale and exhale deeply, “I imagined it was you and I thought of what you…I thought of what you’d do to me.”

Anxiously, you search his eyes for a sign of approval, your heart racing in your chest.

“What did you think I’d do to you?” he asks, taking a swig of his beer without breaking eye contact.

You swallow audibly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your cheeks ablaze with heat. The sensation coursing through your body is undeniable—an intoxicating blend of humiliation and arousal.

Under Nathan’s intense scrutiny, you can feel yourself growing wetter with each passing second, succumbing to the forbidden pleasure of confessing your innermost, shameful desires.

“I thought you’d grab me like last time and kiss me…kiss my neck, bite my lip, hold me down while…” you stop again, too ashamed to go on.

“Hold you down while?” Nathan prompts, making it clear that you’re not done talking.

You tilt your head and furrow your brow as your gaze lingers on the man who has dominated every waking thought since the first time your eyes locked with his.

He’s condescending, self-centered, moody, and so used to playing God in his kingdom of androids that he’s seemingly forgotten how to connect with humans and their emotions. And yet, there’s an inexplicable allure about him that has you longing for his touch, his attention, his…guidance.

What is going on with you?   

“I imagined you’d put your weight on me, keeping me pinned down, making it impossible for me to get away,” you say, peering at him through your lashes. “You’d fuck me, hard, using me in any way you like.”

You bite your lip and shift in your seat, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you catch sight of Nathan’s hard cock twitching beneath the elastic fabric of his sweatpants. He’s still looking at you, his casual demeanor unchanged, beer in hand on his belly. 

“You’d take, um, you’d take control of me, choking me, muffling my screams with your hand, grabbing my tits. I’d beg you to let me come, you’d bring me right to the edge and then you’d stop, denying me over and over again, and using me until I…”

“Until you?”

The subtle arch of Nathan’s eyebrow, the lingering scent of his beard oil, the way his lips press against the glass bottle’s opening—it all ignites an overwhelming surge of arousal within you, urging you to give him what he wants.

“Until I couldn’t take it anymore,” you purr seductively, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

“Is that the thought that made you squirt all over your bed?”

Your jaw drops and your chest tightens, the humiliation intensifying as he talks about this intimate, vulnerable moment with such nonchalance. Like it’s not a complete invasion of your privacy. Like he’s not penetrating the very core of your personal boundaries. 

You feel a flutter in your stomach, and your throat constricts as you struggle to find your words.

“I…no,” you murmur, averting your gaze. Your eyes land on Nathan’s hand gripping the bottle a little harder than before. “What pushed me over the edge was you telling me to come.” 

When your eyes meet his again, you recognize the same dark glint in them that you saw seconds before his lips crashed against yours for the first time. 

“I would beg you to let me come over and over again, and you’d always deny me…until you decided I deserved it. And when you, uh, when you ordered me to come on your cock, I came so hard I lost all control.” 

Nathan can barely hold back a groan as you confess your desire for his dominance. His cock is leaking precum, staining the inside of his pants. He’s this close to ripping your clothes off and taking you right here, right now, burying himself deep inside you and filling you up with his cum. 

But that’s not the plan for tonight.

“Is that so,” is all he says, turning his head back to the TV, a satisfied, almost unnoticeable smirk playing on his lips. He chugs the rest of his beer, then sets the empty bottle down on the little side table next to him. 

Keeping his eyes on the flickering screen, he purposely ignores you again, reveling in the escalating neediness and desperation he perceives from you. He can sense your fidgeting and squirming beside him, uncertain of your next move. After a brief pause, you lift your hand but retract it hesitantly. Amused, Nathan catches a glimpse of your indecision from the corner of his eye.

You’re such a perfect little slut—beautiful, eager, smart, pliant. And it just tickles him that you could scream at him to fuck your ass harder during sex, but act all shy and flustered when asked to talk about it. 

Another minute of silence, and you’re unable to resist any longer. Your swollen clit is painfully sensitive, your damp panties are clinging to your pussy, and your brain is screaming at you to make a move. You reach out again, this time making contact with Nathan’s clothed chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart becomes palpable under your touch, and feeling his body connected with yours has you pressing your thighs together. 

Your breath quickens as you slowly start trailing your hand down his chest and his belly, but before you get a chance to touch his cock, he stills your hand with his.

“Don’t,” he says without looking at you.

You wince and immediately pull your hand away, clasping it protectively against your chest with your other hand.

“I thought…sorry.” You look at him like he just slapped you.

Nathan sighs, but doesn’t say anything. There’s no scolding, no inquiries, no indication of what he wants you to do—it’s unnerving. You’re fidgeting with your shirt again, clearing your throat, and shifting your legs, trying to find a position that will alleviate at least some of the burning ache in your core. 

“Can I–” you say quietly, but cut yourself off. You’re facing him completely now, feet tucked under you, hands on your thighs, a silent restraint preventing you from reaching out to touch him again.

Satisfied that you’re learning, he decides to reward you with his attention. His eyes find yours again, and he’s pleasantly surprised by what he sees. It’s not just lust or neediness; no, you’re lost. Completely, unequivocally lost without his orders.

Nathan’s used to Kyoko looking at him with a blank face, awaiting his commands, reacting to his actions, doing what he programmed her to do. But this is different.

You actually want him to tell you what to do.

He takes his feet off the coffee table and scoots back in his seat, spreading his legs. “Sit on the floor,” he orders, watching with an imperceptible smile as your eyes light up. You quickly get off the couch and kneel on the floor between his legs, your eyes fixated on the outline of his cock inches from your face.

You want to taste it so bad you can feel yourself salivating at the sight. You bite your lip and move a little closer, looking up at Nathan expectantly before gently putting your hands on his thighs. He lifts his hips slightly, groaning at the delicious feeling of his tip rubbing against his pants. You take that as a sign to continue, moving your hands further up to the waistband.

“No,” he says calmly before you can pull it down. 

“Why not?” You don’t pull away your hands this time. “You’re hard. Why won’t you let me–”

“Look.” He leans down to tilt your chin up with his thumb and index finger. “I get that you’re a needy whore and seeing my cock instinctively makes you want to suck it, I really do, baby,” he scoffs, condescension dripping from his words. “But I honestly thought you’d be able to follow a simple instruction even dogs can understand.”

A sharp inhale catches in your throat and your eyes widen at his demeaning words. Your gaze locked onto his, you can feel a surge of frustration coursing through your veins, tinged with a spark of defiance. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure.

Nathan tilts his head, studying your expression, your reaction. You could have slapped him by now, stormed off, told him to go fuck himself—anything. But no, you’re still kneeling between his legs, lust and determination evident in your eyes.

“Let’s try this again, hm?” His thumb gently traces your bottom lip. The sensation sends a wave of ecstasy through your body and it takes all of your self-control not to start sucking on his finger. He can read in your eyes what you’re thinking, so he repeats the motion with your upper lip just to test your resolve. 

The way you squirm under his touch is mesmerizing and oh so gratifying.

“Sit on the floor.”

He releases his hold on your chin, reclines into the couch, grabs another beer from the side table, and redirects his attention back to the TV. 

You decide to crawl out from between his legs, ensuring he gets a tantalizing view of your shapely ass in those snug yoga shorts. Leaning against the couch with a deep sigh, you position yourself next to his leg. You glance up at him, searching for a sign that he’s happy with your obedience—and also very much hoping for a reward that involves him fucking your brains out again. 

It’s not as if you don’t deserve it for enduring his grandiose monologues and drunken crying sessions every other night. Besides, you’re hot, and he should be so lucky…

To your frustration, though, he’s ignoring you again, absentmindedly tapping the beer bottle with his index finger as his eyes stay focused on the movie. He can feel your annoyance, your anger, and it’s almost enough to get his softening cock hard again.

You sit in silence for a minute before quietly scooting closer and gently leaning against Nathan’s leg. Feeling him, even through fabric, is enough to embolden you to go further. You look up at him, trying to be sneaky. He doesn’t look at you. His eyes are fixated on the TV, one hand cradling his beer, the other casually draped over the backrest. 

You’re not giving up that easily. Your pussy won’t let you. Just one little touch, and you’re convinced you can get him in the mood. Just one little touch, and he won’t be able to resist you. Just one little–

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“Then why the fuck am I down here?”

“Because I want you to be.”

“Oh, wow,” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “And now what? You think I’m just gonna sit here and watch you get drunk?”

He ignores your pouting.

“I got better stuff to do, you know.”

He turns up the volume of the TV. 

“This is so dumb, Nathan. Why do you want me to sit here if you’re just gonna ignore me?”

“You like it when I tell you what to do,” he says calmly.

You’re taken aback by his statement and furrow your brow. “Well, yeah…but this isn’t…I–”

He looks down at you, effectively shutting you up.

It’s absolutely amazing how he can watch in real time as the defiant fire in your eyes fizzles out. The small, self-satisfied smile creeping across his arrogant face stings.

He’s such a cocky bastard.

You huff agitatedly, cross your arms in front of your chest, demonstratively turn away from him, and kick your legs out from under you. Nathan, on the other hand, relaxes in his seat. He’s thoroughly enjoying your little show, and your pouting doesn’t bother him. Not as long as you’re doing what you’re told. 

After a few minutes of listening to the blood rushing in your ears and the occasional gulping sound coming from Nathan working on his beer, you can’t hold it back any longer.

“I’m not just gonna stay down here,” you hiss at him. 

“Yes, you are.”

Unbelievable. 

You stare at him incredulously. “And what makes you so sure of that, huh? I could just walk away and leave you here to sulk. I don’t need this, okay? And you–you can’t just–”

Nathan says your name sharply. “Stop your whining. You’re sitting on the floor because I told you to. That’s it.”

He looks at you, his eyebrow arched, daring you to defy him.

“That’s it?” you repeat, your eyes narrowed. 

Nathan smirks and turns towards the TV again, slowly sipping his beer.

“Yup. That’s it.”

You glower at him, and, for a brief moment, he half-expects you to finally get up and storm out in frustration. He wouldn’t mind, really. But there seems to be a subtle shift within you, and after a few tense seconds, you release a long, aggravated breath. Turning away from him, you cross your arms with annoyance, and firmly plant your back against the couch.

Nathan keeps an eye on you, observing how your tense posture relaxes and how you make yourself comfortable after a few more minutes of sitting at his feet. 

It’s an image he wants to savor.

You’ve been good for some time now, doing what he told you to do, submitting to him nicely. He decides to reward your obedience, reaching out to pet the back of your head. You’re startled and your body stiffens at his touch, but he can feel you relax more and more with each gentle stroke of his palm up and down the nape of your neck. He gives you a soothing massage, soft scratches, allows you to lean into his touch. 

He’s stroking you for some time, relishing the feeling of dominance, of control, until a quiet moan escapes your lips. 

Nathan smiles to himself and tightens his grip on your neck for a few seconds, intensifying the sensation. You sigh in pleasure and close your eyes, getting lost in his forceful touch. He then loosens his grip, and you release a contented sigh as you rest your head against his leg. He lets you, gently scratching your scalp, your soft moans music to his ears.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s so much better when you do what I say, hm?”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your brow furrowed.

Seeing you look up at him with those pretty, lust-filled eyes of yours is enough to get his cock hard again.

“You can just do what you’re told,” he says, his fingers gently tracing your neck. “You don’t have to think, or ask questions. You can just let yourself fall and give up control.”

Your eyes widen, and he caresses your cheek. 

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Giving up control. Being able to turn your brain off. Not having to think for yourself, not having to make decisions.”

You don’t respond, mesmerized by his dark eyes and calm voice. There’s a hint of surprise in your expression, but that doesn’t surprise him. You’ve been suppressing your desire for submission for a long time, and now, he’s presenting you with the chance to finally embrace it.

“If I want you to sit on the floor because that’s where I feel you belong, you don’t ask why. You just do it,” he says, running his thumb over your lips again. “Right?”

You nod slowly and press your thighs together with a little whine. Your panties are drenched and it physically hurts you how empty you feel.

“Very good,” Nathan murmurs, pressing his thumb against your lips, and giving you a quick nod when you look at him questioningly. You open your mouth for him to slide his finger inside, your eyes going even wider at the sensation.

Nathan’s cock twitches at your total submission.

He gently thrusts his thumb in and out of your mouth, sliding it along your warm tongue. You suck and lick it seductively, eyes half-closed as you hum around the digit, swirling your tongue around it as if to show him what his cock is missing.

He sucks in a sharp breath and takes his thumb back out of your mouth, pulling down your bottom lip slowly before bringing his face close to yours.

You half-expect him to kiss you, but instead he murmurs, “Clothes off, hands on your thighs.”

He watches contentedly as your eyes light up, and you eagerly follow his orders, pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, pulling down your shorts and panties in one swift motion.

“Kneel over there,” he says, directing you to a spot away from the couch.

He gets up and pulls down his sweatpants, letting them fall onto the floor. You stare at his cock with need, awe, and a tinge of fear—your holes were sore for days after your last encounter. He smiles to himself, crossing the distance between you two, and positioning himself in front of you. 

You’re sitting back on your heels, thighs spread, your hands firmly placed on them, your glistening pussy on display. There’s a smooth arch in your back and your head is tilted upwards as you wait for further instructions.

Nathan looks down at you, his eyes scanning your naked body, spits in his hand and starts stroking his cock. He groans at the delicious feeling of finally getting some relief. He hasn’t jerked off all day, despite watching the tape of you fucking yourself after he got up this morning. And after lunch. And again this afternoon.

To say he’s pent up would be an understatement.

“That’s it,” he moans, wasting no time to tease himself. His right hand sets a steady pace, sliding up and down his length with honed efficiency.

“I’m gonna come all over your pretty face, baby. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?”

The thought of it, of Nathan marking you that way, dirty and wrong and everything you’re not supposed to desire, it sends a surge of heat through your body, settling in your clit with a throb.

You whimper an unintelligible response, your eyes fixated on his hand moving in practiced motions around his thick cock. Nathan chuckles above you, and you manage to tear your eyes away from his cock to catch the look of dark amusement on his face.

“You gotta speak up, baby. Or are you too cock-drunk to use your words already?”

You swallow hard and dig your nails into the flesh of your thighs. “Y-yes,” you manage to choke out. Your face burns with humiliation, intensifying your desperation as you plead, “Please come on my face, Nathan. I want you to mark me. Please give me your cum. Please.”

Shocked at your unexpectedly bold words, Nathan’s hand momentarily falters in its movement, before picking up again with increased speed.

A strangled groan bubbles out of his throat, followed by your name and a swipe of his thumb over the tip of his cock. His dark eyes meet yours for a split second, looking down at you as you’re patiently waiting for your reward with an opened mouth.

You writhe and squirm at the sound of Nathan’s groans and the intense sight of him pleasuring himself. You’ve never seen anything hotter. You want to touch yourself, to rub your clit or slip your fingers into your wet core—to finally get some release—but you resist the urge, clenching your hands into fists.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby,” Nathan pants, his words coming ragged and tight. He’s so close.

You look up into his lidded eyes and whisper, “Please.”

“You want that, huh? Oh fuck. Such a filthy little cumslut.”

You moan at his words and feel your walls clench in desperation. Your arousal is dripping out of your pussy onto the floor below, an obscene sight that confirms what Nathan already knew. 

You’re loving this.

Nathan’s hand is jerking his leaking cock, fast and firm, as he races toward his orgasm. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel—the wet squelching sound of his hand around his slick cock, his grunts and moans, the mumbled curses, the heat radiating off his imposing body.

You see him twitch in his hand and your swollen clit pulsates in response. He increases the speed of his hand and reaches to fondle his balls with his left hand. It takes a harsh squeeze and a “Holy shit, fuck!” before he’s coming with a long, low moan.

Your eyes shut instinctively but you don’t flinch as you can feel it hitting your face and tits in hot, wet spurts. You stay still, like the good girl that you are, moaning as another thick rope of Nathan’s cum lands across your lips, dripping into your mouth, salty and bitter on your tongue. 

You don’t get to see his face as he comes, but the explicit sounds that reach your ears are enough to make you twitch and moan in pleasure, expanding the puddle beneath you.

Nathan strokes himself through his orgasm until his balls are empty and he’s milked every last drop out of his cock and onto your face—until he’s painted you with it, until he’s marked you as his. 

“Goddamnit.”

Spent, he lets go of his pulsating cock, putting his hands on his hips, taking a step back to take a good, long look at his work of art.

Your face is painted white with cum, spread all over your cheeks, chin, and dripping down to your tits. You put on a little show, gathering up the drops with your finger and sensually putting them on your tongue while keeping unwavering eye contact.

“You can swallow,” Nathan says, pleased with your conduct. 

You do as he says, happily adding some more cum from your lips, and swallowing it all down with a blissed-out smile.

“Thank you, Sir,” you coo.

“Such a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, stepping closer. He bends down, grabs the back of your neck forcefully, and tilts your head up.

“Open your mouth, slut. Tongue out.”

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for him to see. He leans in to let a big glob of his spit fall directly into your open mouth. He hums in satisfaction as he watches you swallow it eagerly, and then he finally kisses you, dirty and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. You moan into his mouth, bucking your hips, desperate for him to finally touch your neglected pussy.

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips, making you moan. “Now, go get cleaned up.”

Oh no, he wouldn’t.  

You stare at him with wide eyes. “But I–”

“Go. Get. Cleaned. Up.”

“But I haven’t…what about me?” you stammer, your voice trembling. 

“What about you?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Your face falls and his cock pulsates at your expression. You look like you’re close to crying, your thighs pressed together to alleviate your aching clit, your nails painfully digging into your palms. You’re shaking with anger and frustration.

Nathan’s never been as turned on as he is from seeing you suffer—you’re just so pretty when you’re denied.

He can already picture himself playing with every part of you for hours on end, denying you over and over again until your body is ablaze with burning anticipation. And then, once he’s finally reduced you to a brainless, overstimulated mess, he’ll wrap his hand around your throat and make you take him until you beg him to stop.

But that’s for another day. 

“Smile, baby,” he smirks, tapping your cum-stained cheek and straightening up to get himself another beer from the kitchen. “You’re on camera.”

– – –

Thank you for reading! 🤍

in control || predator & prey || main masterlist

tagging: @pattwtf @tuquoquebrute let me know if you want me to add you!

#nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman fanfiction #oscar isaac characters #nathan ex machina #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #ex machina fanfiction #smut #oscar isaac fic #ex machina

[leoluved]

chase and pull (n.b)

summary: nathan likes when you get jealous, but he gets upset when he gets a taste of his own medicine. warnings: smut 18+, established relationship, fem reader, drinking, limo sex, pussy eating, old fashioned nathan, so that comes w the age gap, choking, teasing, degrading, and slightt dacryphilia.. word count: 1.9k

Nathan loved to watch you chase him. 

Even more when he knew that every action he took was bound to have a reaction from you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever the fuck he read in that cosmopolitan. 

Admittedly, he also thought it was a bit entertaining to watch you get jealous. 

To eye you across the room as he mindlessly—and truthfully speaking, barely entertains a subjectively attractive woman speaking to him. Or an interviewer—who’s getting just a little too friendly. His eyes track you as you inch closer, trying your hardest to maintain your calm composure. 

It’s all innocent, Nathan would never actually let these women think he’s flirting back. But if he throws out a hushed out chuckle, raises his glass at something they say. It’s easy to lure them to a false sense of security. 

But Nathan sees the way you’re gripping your champagne glass, and it shoots a signal straight down to his dick. Fulfilling his urge to see you so clearly distraught. He knows that, later, when he has you under him. He’ll be able to apologize. For now, it’s just too cute to see you huff out and pout at him. When he watches you pout, all he can imagine is the way your lips wrap around him. Trying your hardest to take him fully. 

Luckily for you, two can play that game. You finish your glass and scan around the room. Looking for the perfect suitor. Eyes landing on a handsome and tall-er man. He seems closer to your age. Maybe an intern? Doesn’t matter. 

You make your way towards him, peering over your shoulder through your hair to see if Nathan is watching. You smile mischievously when you see his eyes meet yours over the rim of his whiskey glass with an eyebrow perked up. 

Bingo. 

Once you reach the man it’s clear he feels a bit out of place, definitely an intern. You make simple small talk, and watch as his eyes quickly glance down at the neckline of your dress you so casually adjusted lower. Respectfully enough, he returns his gaze back to your eyes. As he speaks, you place a hand on his arm and laugh a little too hard at something he says that isn’t even that funny, really. 

It boosts his confidence, and you see the younger man start to really throw in some charm. It would’ve been cute, had you not been using the poor fellow just to get back at Nathan. Pulling your attention away, you move your eyes back to where Nathan was stood. Surprised when you realized he was walking towards the both of you. 

You silently panic, and just stare back up and nod. The man’s voice becoming background noise. Halfway through his sentence, Nathan makes his way up, and sends the younger man a glare. It shuts him up, and makes him clear his throat before extending his hand. 

“Mr. Bateman.” He meekly lets out, immediately being interrupted by the low sound of Nathan’s voice. 

“Please. Don’t be so formal.” His voice is laced with venom, and his eyes flicker to yours. Before quickly motioning his head to the side, a silent warning for you to walk away. You stand your ground, before clearing your throat almost as to remind him that you’re in public.  

He sucks air in through his teeth, before turning his body to you and boring a hole through you with his slightly squinted eyes. 

“Move along, little girl. I’m busy talking to…” He trails off, turning his head back to the anxious, shaking intern. “What’s even your position, dude? Did I hire you?” 

The intern starts, but Nathan raises a finger to stop him. He takes the final sip of his whiskey, and you watch as his lips purse and his adam apple bobs while the amber liquid goes down his throat. 

Maybe it’s the effect of the alcohol he’s finally feeling, but Nathan decides that chewing this guy out wasn’t even worth his time, he shuts his eyes, momentarily. As if he’s embarrassed that he acted out of line, because of you. 

Nathan sneers before he swiftly grabs your upper arm, dragging you away from the scene. He smooth and fluid with his movements. And smirks when he notices that only his ‘intern’ was watching. Thankful for everyone else being too immersed in their conversations. 

He grabs another drink, a rum and coke, this time; as the both of you keep going. He sets the empty glass down on a random table after a couple of paces and presses you out the back door. 

“Nathan—.” You start, but he continues dragging you until you’re both outside on the curb. 

You shiver in the cold air. Wrapping your arms around yourself. You cross your arms across your chest to try and conserve some heat. 

Nathan’s quick on his phone, and it takes less than four minutes before a limo is pulling up down the road. He opens the door for you, and as you hesitate to get in. He’s sending you an aggravated glare. 

“Get the fuck in. Make this easier for me, would you?” His tone is short, and cold. And it makes you scramble to enter the back seat. You feel sorry for the driver, knowing you won’t hear the end of it for the way you acted tonight. 

You tremble lightly at the warmth in the car, your body trying to regulate it’s temperature. Once Nathan steps in and settles himself, he’s quick to pull you onto his lap. His hands feeling so strong at your thighs. 

Nathan leans up to kiss you, chasing your lips each time you pull away. False sense of security, he thinks once more, allowing you to let your guard down. 

As soon as you start grinding down on his lap. His hand grips at the sides of your throat. He brings his lips to your ear to whisper cruelly at you. 

“Nuh uh.. There’s no way you think I’m going let you cum tonight.. right?” 

It’s a long drive to the hotel room. Either that, or Nathan mentioned a high paying wage for the poor driver to drive through the city. But the torture feels endless. 

That’s how you find yourself face smushed against the black leather seats of the limo. Nathan’s thick fingers slipping deeper into your exposed heat, whining when he rips your black laced panties. Complaining that ‘they were your favorite’.

It earns you a smack on the ass. With a soft yelp you instinctively push your hips further back. Nathan’s thumb barely ghosts over your clit and you jolt at the feeling. Thighs trembling as you start to feel the beginnings of your orgasm present itself. 

You sob out quietly, moving along with his hand to get the friction where you needed it most. Suddenly, Nathan pulls his fingers back, and you whimper at the loss of his fingers. He spreads you for him, watching your hole clench around nothing. He bites back a groan. Before bringing his face to you. 

Nathan blows a breath of air to your exposed cunt that has you bucking away from his touch. He laughs before licking a slow stripe up your pussy. 

“Taste so fucking good, bet you like it when I get mad, huh?” He asks, not giving you a chance to respond before his tongue starts its assault on your slit. You dig your face deeper into the seats, enjoying the light burn of his beard that you were starting to feel in between your thighs. Trying to muffle your moans as you feel his tongue poke at your entrance. He takes his thumb and starts to rub on your needy bud. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get close again, stomach clenching and twitching as you desperately beg Nathan to let you cum. He typically loves when you beg, voice pitched up high while he gets to watch you come undone. But Nathan knew he needed to teach you a lesson. He stops abruptly. Getting himself balanced on his knees before wiping the bottom half of his face and beard. 

It takes a minute, before you hear the telltale sound of a zipper and rustling of his pants being pulled down his thighs. 

He wastes no time, poking his tip to your slicked cunt before shoving himself in until he’s bottomed out and your thighs are pressed together. He clasps a hand over your mouth, just in time for you to let out another sob into his palm. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can hear him chuckling to himself. Giving you no time to adjust, he’s reeling back, only allowing the tip to stay nestled inside of you before slamming himself back. 

Your body gives out at the pace he sets, limply allowing him to use you as a rag doll. Nathan’s cruel with his words, trying to ensure you don’t get too much pleasure out of this. But he knows you will. Knows you melt when he’s rough with you. 

“Little slut.. Wants me to act out for her. I was so close to ruining his life. The way he looked a-at you. Was gonna fire him..Fuuck..” 

You could tell Nathan was getting close, he sped up his pace and his thrusts became sloppy and out of rhythm. Without notice he stills. Trying to stifle his groans. You feel his cock twitch inside you. Taking the brief second to fill your lungs with air. It burns to breathe, and Nathan removes his hand from your mouth at the sound of you breathing in. 

He grips both of your arms with his hands, forcing you upright to continue pounding into you. You’re drooling at this point, gasping as he takes from you. Nathan rests his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. The contrast of his actions making your head whirl. 

“Look at the way you take me—So fucking gorgeous, sweetheart.” 

You didn’t realize there was there now tears streaming down your face, smearing your mascara. You turn your eyes to glance at Nathan, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure. 

He abruptly pulls out, watching hazily as he shoots spurts of cum over your dress. You try and control your breathing. Once again hearing the rustling of clothes and the sound of his zipper. He grabs a couple napkins from the limos tiny bar. Half ass-ing the way he cleans you up. He pulls your cocktail dress back down before playfully smacking your ass again. Eventually his arm comes back up to wrap around you as you settle on his chest.

You pout at him, doe eyes glossing over, he knows he didn’t finish you off. You know he did it on purpose. You also know Nathan can be easy to crack when he’s vulnerable in his afterglow. He glances down at you with an amused expression. 

“C’mon, honey. Don’t look at me like that. Just wait till we get back to the hotel.” He purrs teasingly, promisingly. 

As the limo finally comes to a halt, Nathan emerges. Holding out a hand for you to stabilize yourself as you exit the limo. As soon as you do, you hear the sound of the driver door opening. You lower your head to avoid eye contact with the driver. Nathan places a hand on your spine and laughs at your embarrassment. 

“Don’t be so coy. He’s under an NDA.” 

#YEAH #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x you #ex machina imagine #ex machina #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #˚ . ☆ ⋆。˚ — my writing.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Bestie its me ur fave Nathan Bateman defender 💅💅 can I request anything Nathan? Like free range bestie (ik for some authors it's a hassle to be requested something with no info but its ok if u dont) like go crazy with him. Just need more Nathan content ❤️❤️ ily and thank you bestie 🤸‍♀️

ANYTHING NATHAN? YOU GOT IT. (I'm so sorry what is this? What have I written? Help.) ILYSM❤️

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: Nathan's a pretty heavy sleeper.

A/N: Nathan and Reader are already in a relationship.

Warnings: somnophilia, I'm gonna say dub con because Nathan is asleep and it is only vagely hinted at that the consent has been previously established, blow job, fingering, swearing, typos, overuse of italics, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 991

________________________________

While you weren’t sure what time Nathan went to bed last night, or what time it was now (other than early morning), but, you did know that he had decided to sleep in your bed. Not his. 

His beard was tickling your shoulder, his gentle and even breaths warming your back. 

One arm was slung over your waist while the other, in classic Nathan fashion, was pressed against the headboard at an angle you would have assumed was uncomfortable. 

You needed to stretch. And, despite the comfort of waking up in his embrace, he was oldly warm. A human furnace. How he wasn’t sweating astounded you.

It seemed impossible that someone that slept naked could produce so much heat. 

Carefully, you wiggled out from underneath his arm. Trying your best not to wake him or jostle the bed too much. 

You were nearly home free, out without being a disturbance, when somehow you caught Nathan just as he was moving in his sleep. 

A sigh escaped your lips, ready for a Textbook Nathan grumble. But it never came. 

He had just moved with the push and was now sleeping soundly flat on his back, part of the bedcovers twisted around his calf.

Huh. 

Seemed like he was a heavy sleeper. 

He must have come to bed late. 

You chewed at your bottom lip as a wicked thought started to grow in your mind. 

He looked so peaceful, innocent even. If such a word could ever be used to describe Nathan. Especially since he had a habit of grooming his public hair into ridiculous shapes. Something you were sure he only really started doing to amuse you. Currently it was a heart. 

Perhaps it was time for a little revenge for all the times he woke you up at 2am with his face between your legs. 

Languidly you moved a little closer, running the tip of your forefinger up the length of his dick. Just to judge the reaction, see how heavy of a sleeper he really was.

Nathan’s breathing didn’t even change. 

You grinned. 

Still keeping your eyes on his face to watch for any signs of waking, you laid down on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows and leaning over to suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.

Nothing. 

You moved your body closer, risking leaning partially on his thigh and hip, as you licked up the length of him, swirling your tongue around the head and teasing his slit. 

His cock jumped under your attention, quickly hardening as Nathan’s breathing hitched ever so slightly. The rise and fall of his chest increasing even as his eyes stayed closed. 

You pumped him a few times, smearing your saliva along the thick length of him as a smile pulled on your lips. 

While you missed Nathan’s moans and grunts of pleasure, there was something satisfying about having him at your mercy. 

You took him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down slowly, trying to let him get deeper each time. 

Usually Nathan’s bucking hips (even when he tried not to) made it difficult to deepthroat him, his size alone was enough to make the activity strenuous. And you’d never quite been able to manage it without gagging. 

Now however, without his instant squirming you found that you were able to take him deeper than you had before, relaxing your throat as best you could and swallowing around him. 

You hummed, getting a little carried away as your own arousal started to burn between your legs.

The idea of maybe being able to take all of him in your mouth made you a little lightheaded, forced you to rub your legs together to just take the edge off. 

You picked up the pace, moving up and down, still managing to swallow a little more each time.

His cock was hot and heavy in your mouth, the girth made your jaw throb but you didn’t care as you continued to take him deeper.

Finally you couldn’t ignore the ache between your legs any longer, and you slid one hand down, under your pyjama bottoms for some relief. 

Nathan’s breathing had increased exponentially. Small huff of air, and little whispered moans escaping his lips as he still stayed inexplicably asleep. 

Part of you wondered what he was dreaming about. 

You circled your clit, Nathan’s little groans of pleasure driving you wild as you filled your mouth with his cock. 

You were nearly there, almost at the base, just another few centimetres and you could bury your face into the neatly trimmed curls between his legs.

“Fuuuck,” Nathan hissed between his teeth, gasping as he woke up fully to the sight of you. “Oh god, baby,” he whined, stretching back for a moment to try to stop himself from thrusting upwards, “taking me so deep.” 

He groaned obscenely. Trying to get himself under control by sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, anything to distract himself from the warmth of your mouth. 

That was when he noticed your hand down the front of your pyjamas. 

And he lost it. 

He moaned loudly, grabbing hold of your shoulder, trying to warn you. But it was too late. He came hard, unable to control the mindless bucking of his hips as he filled your mouth and throat. 

The timing, thankfully, had just been right. You had been breathing out as he came and managed to not choke to death on his release. 

He gasped as you kept sucking, milking him for every last drop he could give, before pulling away and grinning. 

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“Good fucking morning.” He breathed, laying back heavily against the bed. 

You chuckled. 

He sat up a little to look at you. “What time is it?” 

You shook your head, “I’m not sure, I-”

“It’s pussy eating time, that’s what it is.” He growled as he pounced on you, smothering you with kisses as you laughed. 

____________________________________ 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @mbakubabe @whatthefishh @romanarose @pimosworld @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x reader #x reader #nathan bateman x you #x you #nathan bateman x female reader #x female reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 42

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: I'm aiming to have 3-4 more chapters before wrapping this up. Just a heads up.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

There's police tape criss-crossing the front entrance, and across a few of the windows

The kitchen door is untouched

The camera outside of it appears to be disabled

You scour around, spotting a large rock

It's cool and heavy as you pick it up, and you find yourself wincing before you even throw the damn thing.

The shattering seems ear-splitting in the relative silence around the mansion.

"Sorry, Alfred," You mutter as you slide your sleeve down over your hand, reaching through the broken pane to unlock the door.

The quiet is eerie as you walk around. The mansion has always been enormous, but walking through it alone and hearing the echo of your footsteps makes your stomach churn with discomfort.

Are the cops monitoring this place? They must be, right? Is there anyone stationed nearby, watching the house?

You do not have time to be booked for breaking and entering

And how would that even play in the press?

Deranged Bateman Enterprises Employee Returns to Gotham and Breaks Into Missing Boss' House

Vicki Vale would probably love that.

At least you have an alibi for whatever the hell happened.

And what the hell did happen?

You duck beneath the police tape cordoning off his lab, looking around.

There's police tape across the window there, too. If police had seen Bateman—well, Batman—leaving through there...

You turn to the bookshelves as you consider the possibilities.

Maybe Nathan had to have been coming or going, saw the police and ran.

But to not come back?

Something must have been deeply wrong.

You walk over to the bookshelf, gently levering down Nathan's false copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep and waiting as the bookshelf sinks to the side.

You walk cautiously toward it, eyeing the elevator. The structure seems secure; nothing appears to be out of place.

You step onto it and pull the lever to lower yourself into the cave.

You turn to look down, listening as the clanking of the machinery awakens some of its bat inhabitants.

Everything in the cave seems as untouched as the mansion. You press your hand to the biometric scanner, looking up as the screens come to life.

Camera first, you think.

Maybe some of the questions that you have can be solved by whatever footage you can get from the mansion.

But when you try to view the logs from the past few days, access is denied.

There's a password protection of Nathan's that you can't override.

You try everything that you can possibly think of, but nothing pops.

You're in the middle of attempting to override his security when a livestream of the news catches your eye.

Your brow furrows as you eye the runner:

CLOWN GANG UNLEASHES CHAOS IN GOTHAM—MAYOR GARCIA INSTITUTES CURFEW

You reach down, turning up the volume on that feed.

The anchor's voice crackles slightly before steadying:

"For our top story: Gotham has been gripped by fear as a gang of masked perpetrators wreak havoc on the city. Authorities have struggled to contain the situation, with the Gotham PD launching a city-wide manhunt. Graffiti of clown figures and Joker cards have appeared on buildings across the city, with the rate of their creation outpacing the city's ability to cover or remove them. Mayor Garcia has mandated a city-wide curfew in attempt to stem the rising tide of clown-related crimes. Meanwhile, rumors continue to circulate about the disappearance of both Nathan Bateman and Batman. Some are questioning whether the billionaire has chosen to resume the hermitage that he held after college, or if he's being held for ransom by the masked vigilante. Others speculate that Batman is somehow behind the growing clown posse."

The footage flickered to an older woman on the street, her brows knitted as a microphone is thrust into her face.

"I've never seen this many clowns in my life. Not once. Not even when the circus came to town. Not even when I met my ex-husband's family."

You frown as the footage flickered to a familiar face—one that turns your stomach.

Vicki looks a little flighty, and hardly stands still to answer the question that the reporter poses. Her face is pinched; there are dark bags under her eyes as she gives a staccato reply:

"No one has ever seen Nathan Bateman and Batman in the same room, have they? No one. His last name is one letter away—has anyone ever considered that?"

You scoff, shaking your head.

She's right, of course, but that doesn't exactly settle your nerves.

The news turns to another interview—a young man with closely cropped hair, his features obscured behind a thick smear of white makeup and overdrawn red lips.

"Why's everyone getting so worked up over a little makeup?" His face splits into a grin as he grasps the microphone and runs away with it, cackling gleefully into it.

You wince at the sound of the laugh, a chill running down your spine as it pricks memories of your nightmares.

The footage cuts back to the anchor in the studio shuffling their papers before they fold their hands over their notes.

"Commissioner Gordon has urged citizens to remain vigilant and report and sightings of suspicious acrobatics, or people wearing an excessive amount of makeup or face paint."

You reach out, turning the volume back down as you lean back, eyeing the other news feeds.

"Jesus, Nathan," You sigh. "What the hell happened?"

--

You can't stop staring at the trash can.

Why the hell did Nathan keep them?

No—No, it can't be the same trash that it was when you left. You haven't been in the Blue Room in almost two years.

You came up in the vain hope that you may have a thing or two left in here, but...It's the same.

Everything is the same.

The designer clothing and bags that Nathan got you are still in the drawers and closet.

Your favorite products are still in the ensuite bathroom.

And as you crouch down and pick up one of the crumpled pieces of paper, your blood running cold as you spot your handwriting.

You drop it again and straighten up, bracing your hands on the desk as your chest tightens.

Why did he leave it like this? Did he close the door and forget about it?

Did he think you were coming back—

You turn away, pushing a low groan out as you shake your tingling hands out, trying to push back your conflicting confusion and hope.

Fuck, whatever it was won't matter until you figure out what the fuck happened—

Bzzzzzz

You freeze at the sound of the brief buzz. It stops as suddenly as it starts...

You wonder if maybe you imagined it—

Bzzzzz

You look around the room, frowning. What the hell is that?

It's close enough that you can hear it, but it's not in the room anywhere.

Bzzzzz

You step into the hall, following the sound toward Nathan's room.

You find yourself raising your hand to knock, then shake your head. No one is in there, right?

You're still hesitant to open the door, wincing at its creaking before you step inside. The buzz grows louder as you approach his bedside table.

You open the drawer and find it...Empty.

But you can still hear and now feel the vibration. You knock on the bottom of the drawer, thrilling as you hear the hollow thonk.

It takes a few tries, but you find the small tab to lift the false bottom and find...

A flip phone.

A flip phone? Why the hell would Nathan have a flip phone?

This seems like the kind of thing that he would've mocked you for having when you first met.

You pull the phone out of the drawer, eyeing the caller ID.

C.G.

You hesitate before you flip it open, raising it to your ear.

You don't speak, you just listen.

For a moment, you hear nothing. And then—

"Where the hell have you been, man?"

The man's voice is familiar. It's on the tip of your tongue...

"Still not talking?" He pushes. "You're lucky I'm not tracing this call after all the shit you pulled. Look—the mayor is on my ass. I need you to meet me tonight, usual time, usual place."

You flounder wordlessly before you push out the lowest, gruffest answer you can: "Can't."

You wince. Damn—You couldn't sound like Nathan if you tried.

The man's so flustered that he doesn't seem to notice.

"The hell do you mean, can't? You can't go AWOL like this. I need you to rattle some cages. I've got a lead on this clown gang, but I can't go after it myself."

You scrub your hand over your face. You can't go after them the way Nathan could, but you could do some research, right?

"Send the information," You grit out.

"It's too sensitive to send."

Fuckssake.

"...I'll send an address and time," You manage before snapping the phone shut.

You stare at the phone for a few moments, braced as if it'll explode.

When the man doesn't call back, you push out a soft, relieved breath.

Alright, you need somewhere you can meet whoever this is—somewhere you know the terrain, have the upper hand.

You may have once promised Nathan that you'd never go back to the Narrows without him, but he isn't there.

You are. You need answers.

Whatever this person has might lead you to Nathan.

But how the hell are you going to turn up without revealing who you are to...Whoever this is?

--

Nathan's armor is too heavy for you.

You're not in bad shape, but Nathan is strong in a way that you aren't.

You can pair down...Can't you?

You don't need all of the armor. If you play this right, whatever this meeting is won't end in conflict.

But you have a bigger problem than the armor.

You can't growl all night. That little bit in the bedroom hurt, and you'll never get away sounding the way you did in person.

You look around the lab, trying to cobble your thoughts together.

The helmet. You'll start with the helmet.

You'll need to adjust the design to include a voice modulator.

Okay. You can do this.

You've sent the C.G. contact an address and a time. You'll meet with him at five to midnight. You have eight hours.

You need to make the voice modulator first.

Once that's done, you'll go through the cave and see if any of the lighter kevlar that you designed and ordered is still there.

You're not as worried about covering your legs, but your arms, chest, neck, and voice are what you're worried about tonight.

With any luck, this is the only iteration of this suit that you'll need, and the only time that you'll need to wear it.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburg ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #Bateman Begins #Nathan Bateman Batman AU

[melodygatesauthor]

Fuckin' Stupid

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader

Blurb 19 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

Nathan was fucking you over your desk. He had your right cheek against the surface, his palm pressing on your face so hard you thought you could taste blood.

“You are so fucking stupid, like seriously the dumbest employee in the whole fucking company,” he exhaled a staggered breath as his hips slammed forward painfully against you, driving your hips into the desk.

“I’m sorry sir I–”

“I’m sowwy–shut the fuck up,” he hissed. “It’s hard enough to come in something dumber than a blowup doll, I don’t wanna hear you talking t-too f-fuck!”

No matter how much he degraded you, you knew he loved the feeling every time your walls squeezed around him in response.

“You know if you were one of my androids I would’ve been done already, but your pussy is so loose I can hardly feel it s-squeezing…I can…mmm-f-fu-u-uh–”

You felt him gushing, fat dick throbbing with every spurt of hot white that painted your insides. His hand was crushing you, pushing you harder against the desk while his other hand was digging nails so deep into your flesh you were certain he broke the skin. His moans echoed through the room and without a doubt could be heard by the receptionist at the front desk.

No matter how much Nathan talked shit, he loved your cunt. At least, the fact that he always came in under three minutes each time let you know he did. He pulled out, sniffing deeply through his nose before spitting on your back and muttering how gross you looked. He mentioned something about cleaning yourself up before he left you like that, bent over the desk and dripping in his fluids.

It was no surprise later when you checked your email to see…you got a raise.

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman FanFiction #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman fan fiction #nathan bateman ex Machina #nathan bateman fanfic #nathan bateman fic #ex Machina FanFiction #ex Machina fic #ex Machina smut #ex Machina fan fiction #nathan bateman smut