#Nathan Bateman x you

[rosesanddecay]

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.)

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tense

Blue Jones x Nathan Bateman x nonbinary afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 11: Threesome

Summary: Nathan wants you to look after a new android. Maybe the android wants to look after you too.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for beating and saving me as always!

Warnings: kissing, pet names, fingering, oral (both receiving), anal sex, p in v sex, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 4593

“Nathan, well, this is… this is, erm…” You stare at the android in front of you. “Unexpected?” 

Nathan grins, clearly amused at your reaction. 

“What’s, erm, hmm,” you gesture with your hands. “Why does he look like you?” 

Nathan snorts, “does he?”

You give him a glare. The android obviously looks very much like him. 

“Also,” Nathan leans back against the wall and crosses his arms, all smug smiles and self-assuredness. “How do you know it’s a he? Kind of assuming gender here aren’t you?” 

Your glare darkens. “If that’s a dig at me, then-”

Nathan quickly holds up his hands. “No,” he smiles kindly. “No dig. Just teasing, he’s a he.” 

You nod. “What’s his name?”

“Doesn’t have one yet, that’s your job.” 

The android is currently powered off, eyes closed and standing perfectly still. He’s a little uncanny to say the least, being so motionless, not even breathing. Not that he needs to breathe but…

He doesn’t look exactly like Nathan either, he’s clean shaven for starters. Which is a small mercy, you don’t know how you’d deal with a robot that was his spitting image. And his hair is slightly longer, about a ¾ of an inch. He’s also two inches shorter than Nathan. 

“You made him smaller?”

“Sorry?” 

“His height.” You can’t keep the amusement out of your voice. 

Nathan shrugs. “Unintentional.” You know he’s lying, but you don’t push it. 

You hum an affirmative. 

“So… why does he look like you?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Isn’t it?” 

You roll your eyes, used to Nathan’s unique ways of communicating. 

“I like R2D2, Marvin, Robot in Lost in Space. You know, robots that look like robots? Not people.” 

Nathan laughs. “You’re just getting uncanny vibes because he’s turned off and looks dead but still standing. The second he’s online you’ll feel different.”

You give him a not so convinced look. 

“I promise– he blinks, he mimics breathing, even has a heartbeat.”

“What?” 

Nathan nods, “you can take his temperature and everything.” 

“Okay… so he’s obviously very impressive, you’re a genius, blah, blah, blah.”

Nathan snorts. “But?”

“But what do you want me to do, besides name him, I mean?” 

“Well, that depends on what you want to do with him.” He grins and you're so close to getting fired for hitting your boss. 

“Nathan,” you say warningly.  

His smile widens and he chuckles. “I’m playing, I’m playing. Don’t be so uptight.” He doesn’t give you enough of a pause to say something back to him. “Talk with him, socialise with him, show him the ropes like he’s a new employee.” 

“Am I getting fired?” You joke. 

Nathan laughs again. “Look, I just need someone other than me to interact with him and give me some feedback, yeah? And since you’re the only other person here?” 

You nod. “No problem.” But you pause as a small worry digs into the back of your mind. 

Nathan answers your question before you can even ask it, seemingly reading your thoughts. “He can’t hurt you.”

“You Asimov Lawed him?”

“Pretty much.”

You nod again. “Okay.” 

“I’ll leave you both to get acquainted.” Nathan heads for the door. 

“Nathan?” 

He turns. 

“Does he know he’s a robot?”

Nathan nods.

“And that you made him?”

Nathan nods again, “I have spoken with him you know.” He shakes his head as he leaves. 

“Oh, you’ve spoken with him,” you mutter under your breath, but there’s no fire to it. “Couldn’t give him a name though.”

You sigh and approach the android. You place your hand on the startup panel, it blinks into life as it recognises your palm print. You press a few commands and there’s a small click and hum.

The android opens his eyes, blinking like he’s just woken up. He’s dressed in a white t-shirt and white jogging bottoms. His chest rises and falls, just like Nathan said it would. 

You give him a smile and a little wave. “Hello.”

He tilts his head for a second and then smiles back and says your name. 

A little flash of surprise crosses your face before you recover. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. It’s, erm, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And to finally meet you, Nathan’s spoken about you at length.” 

That doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence. 

“I believe you are supposed to give me a name?” He asks, there’s a slight up turn of his lips that’s so completely Nathan like that you almost do a double take. 

“Yeah, I,” you pause, your eyes falling on the BlueBook logo on the wall. “How about Blue?” 

“Blue.” He repeats and smiles. “Yeah, I like that.” 

You spend the rest of the day showing Blue around the facility, introducing him to systems as Nathan had introduced you when you first started working here. 

Nathan stays out of the way, hidden up in his office. Though you’re sure he’s probably watching you on the monitors with interest. 

Blue is quite charming, his voice is a little different from Nathan, but not by much. He’s quieter though, but with a good sense of humour. The differences and similarities between them both are interesting. Part of you wonders if this is how Nathan sees himself, or if he unintentionally programmed the likenesses in. 

It’s only later on in the day that things start to get… strange. 

You’re at your office desk, just working on a small piece of programming. 

Blue is meant to be going over the safety protocol for the building – something you had to do when you started. But you hear his light footsteps come up behind you. 

You pause in typing, but don’t look around. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.” 

You glance up at him. He’s seemingly interested in your screen. “It’s just a prototype I was working on for-”

He puts his hand on your shoulder, still looking at the screen. “It’s very compelling.” He squeezes your shoulder lightly. 

“Blu-”

“You seem tense?” He looks down at you. “Are you stressed?”

“I don’t think…”

“There’s a lot of tension here.” He presses his thumb into your back and rubs, you can feel the muscle relax instantly. 

You swallow and when you don’t try to stop him again Blue moves directly behind you, placing his other hand on your shoulder. 

He slowly starts to massage your neck and upper back. Taking his time and applying just the right amount of pressure to quickly make you feel like liquid. 

You let out a small sigh. 

“Feel okay?” He asks. There’s a slight edge to his voice, something you can’t quite put your finger on. 

“Yeah, good, really good.” You try to keep your words quick and short to save from moaning over how wonderful it feels. It was like he could pull apart every knot and ache. Nathan must have programmed some kind of pressure point, masseuse knowledge. Though why, you had no idea. 

“Good.” He whispers, his voice low. 

You can’t focus on anything else but the feel of his hands, how warm they are, how life like they are. 

“Move forward a little.”

You lean without even thinking and his hands travel a little further down your spine. 

This time you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. 

You snap your mouth shut the second you realise, heat rising to your face. “I-”

“It’s fine, perfectly normal reaction, I’m glad you’re relaxing.” His voice is low, and his fingers don’t stop. 

You spend the next twenty minutes getting the best massage of your life and keeping one hand fixed permanently over your mouth. 

.

You had made a not so subtle exit after that. Politely keeping out of Blue’s way (hiding) for the rest of the afternoon. 

Part of you wanted to go and speak to Nathan, but you weren’t sure if you could face the teasing. 

‘Perfectly normal reaction,’ ugh. You could picture Nathan’s smug smile perfectly. Choruses of ‘oh, you got turned on by an android that looks like me?’ No thanks. 

Though he probably would tease the shit out of you later on, that was a Future You problem. And if you could keep it a Future You problem for as long as possible, you would. 

Around 7pm your hunger got the better of you and you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to scavenge some of Nathan’s secret snack supply that he thought was well hidden. 

A step into the room you stop dead in your tracks. 

Blue was at one of the counters, chopping vegetables. 

He turned and smiled at you before you even had a chance to think about turning on your heels and making a beeline out of there. 

“Oh, hi Blue.” You try to sound casual, but the awkwardness radiates out of you like a beacon. 

He smiles and looks back at the vegetables. “Are you hungry?” 

You nod, promptly realising he couldn’t see your reaction and quickly speaking. “Yes, yeah, just, just gonna…” You trail off and pause. “Do you eat?” 

Blue laughs and shakes his head. “This is for you.”

“For me?” 

He nods and glances at you again, all smiles and seductive eyes- No, do not think about him that way. 

“You tend to eat your evening meal around this time.” 

“Oh,” you take a few steps closer and lean on the counter next to him. “That’s really kind of you, you didn’t need to. Wait, how do you know that?” 

Blue raises his eyebrows and gives you a small smirk.

“Nathan, got it.” 

“He said you liked pasta, so.”

You pause, looking at the meal he’s preparing. You don’t remember the last time someone cooked for you, outside of Nathan. And that was only because he was eating too. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You finally say. 

“I wanted to.” 

The food is good, even if Blue sits a little too close. His knee brushing against yours under the table. He talks to you about relatively normal things, work related, while leaning his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his hand. 

He listens intently, his eyes never leaving your face. It’s uncanny being watched so attentively. You ask Blue a few questions but he always manages to steer the conversation back to you. Another Nathan like attribute. 

Long after the meal is over you stretch, there’s a small popping sound as your shoulder clicks. 

Blue frowns and stands. He touches your spine and shoulder blade again with those precise fingers. “Is your back still causing you discomfort?” 

“I,” you swallow. “You don’t need to, it’s fine, really.” Heat rises to your face. 

“Nonsense, you still have a lot of tension here.” He presses his thumb firmly into your skin and you sigh. 

He massages the area for a few seconds. “Your stress levels are still high, come,” he holds out his hand to you expectantly. 

There is a disastrously long second where you hear ‘come’ as ‘cum’. “I, erm, what?” 

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand. You follow him, a little too flustered to object. 

Blue leads you to the living room and gestures to the sofa. “Lay down on your stomach.” 

“Blue-”

“I need you flat to relax you properly.” He smiles at you expectantly, his eyes dark and bordering on mischievous. 

You stare for a second before managing a small nod, about to speak your agreement when Blue frowns as if a thought has just occurred to him. 

“The space isn’t ideal…” He looks straight at you. “A bed would be better.”

A bed would be better. “Erm…”

“So you can lay flat.” He stares at you expectantly. Almost goading you. If you agreed to the sofa, why not the bed? What implications are you inferring? 

You give him a tight smile. Nathan and his stupid mind games. He did this just to see if he could get you to crack. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Okay.” The word comes out more like a squeak than you hoped it would. 

. 

Blue leads you back to your room, opening the door as if he was inviting you into his space, not yours. 

He waits for you to climb onto the bed and get comfortable, lying on your stomach, your head resting on your crossed arms. 

And then he starts slowly on your shoulders. That same deep press from before that has you screwing up your eyes and burying your face. It’s barely been a minute before he stops and you nearly groan at the loss. 

“This would be better without your t-shirt.” 

You pause, your mind failing to translate his words for a few seconds. “Oh, erm,” it was perfectly reasonable, wasn’t it? People had professional massages all the time, they didn’t have them while their clothing was still on. “Okay.” 

He turns, politely as you sit up and the anxiety in your chest eases. You were making this into something it wasn’t. He was just trying to help. 

You tug off your t-shirt and drop it onto the floor off the side of your bed and lay back down. “All done.” You say, trying and failing to hide the little shake in your voice. 

Blue turns, his fingers barely touch your skin before he’s lightly caressing just under your bra strap. “May I?” 

You pause, then nod. He unclips it, letting the straps fall to the side before he continues to softly caress. 

It feels good, his fingers dig in and work out the tension, making you liquid and weak under his hands. 

Heat starts to pull at your stomach, sinking lower and lower. Wetness starts to build between your legs. You shouldn’t be-

“Oh!” A sudden gasp leaves your lips as Blue’s right hand slides quickly down, underneath your jogging bottoms and underwear, over the swell of your ass and straight to your core. “Blue!” It feels too good. “I-”

“You have so much tension.” He breathes close to your ear, his fingers trace along your entrance, teasing lightly. “I’m meant to help you relieve it.” 

“Blue…” You bite your lip, instinctively pressing closer to his fingers. You shouldn’t… Fuck Nathan was probably watching, probably-

“Let me help you,” he whispers low in your ear, his warm breath searing your skin. “I’ve been given direct instructions to help you relax.” He lightly rubs your clit, slow and gentle and it makes you jolt. 

“Blue, fuck-”

He kisses your temple. “Tell me to stop at any time, and I will. I only want to please you.” 

Fuck, if his soft, deep voice didn’t nearly make you come on the spot. 

You nod, swallowing thickening. “Please, I’d like… it’s been a while… and…”

“Of course,” he moves dizzyingly quickly, short and precise as he grabs hold of your hips and flips you over onto your back. You don’t even get a chance to let out a gasp of surprise before he’s pulling off your jogging bottoms and underwear and drops them to the floor. 

He rubs his hands up your legs, digging into your inner thighs and spreads you wide before he dives in and latches onto your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rolling up to his warm eager mouth, your body moving completely on autopilot. 

He sucks, for a few seconds before teasing it out and lapping, alternating between broad licks and that gentle suction that is dragging you so quickly to the edge. His dark eyes watch your reactions intently, monitoring and adjusting based on the smallest reactions. 

He trails his right hand further down your thigh, pressing lightly at your core before sipping two fingers inside. He hums when you moan, the smallest smile pulling at his features. 

Pleasure twists and coils as sweat beads on your forehead. The stretch sends a shiver along your nerves, makes your air catch in your throat.

“Blue, I- oh fuck!”

He moves his fingers, tapping and stroking so quickly on your inside walls that it is like a buzz of vibration right against your g spot. 

You sob out his name, your thighs shaking as you come dizzyingly quickly, pulled over the edge by his precise movements. 

As you breathe heavily, your mind a little short circuited by your orgasm and lagging behind, Blue helps you out of the rest of your clothes, leaving you completely bare before he strips off his own. 

He kneels between your legs, looking down at you with soft eyes as he gently touches your cheek. “More?” 

“I…” You trail off, surprised by the sweetness in his gaze and distracted by his naked chest and warm soft skin. 

You lightly touch his ribs and he smiles. 

“What… what do you want?” You ask, your voice embarrassingly small. 

“That’s a dangerous question.” His smile widens, his tone teasing. 

“Why?”

He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. “Because I don’t want to stop until you can’t form words.” 

You swallow and glance down as he strokes himself with one hand. He’s impressively large, standing tall and erect. There’s copious amounts of precum leaking from the tip, which you quickly realise is, in fact, lube. He smears it down himself, watching you as you watch him.

You shift a little, widening your legs even though you don’t realise you're doing it. “Does it, will it feel good for you?” 

Blue’s smile widens again, his eyes dark as he leans down. He guides himself to your pussy, pushing his tip against your clit before he drags his cock down and notches the head at your core. “Oh yes.” He mummers his voice low. He stills for half a second, studying your face until he finds what he was looking for. 

He pushes in slowly, moving his hands so that one rests on the mattress and the other on your hip, pinning you down as he slips inside. 

You gasp, letting out a soft ‘oh’ at the stretch. 

“You can take it.” He mutters, voice velvet soft. “You’re very well lubricated even without mine.” 

You wriggle against him, squeezing his biceps, both trying to get close to and escape from the pleasure, your eyes screwed shut.

As he finally sinks in the last inch you moan, it’s like you can feel him in your heart, your lungs. Pushing perfectly at the centre of you and pulsing. 

“You find me attractive?” Blue asks, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side, a cheeky smile on his face as he rocks slowly. Short, powerful thrusts that move the bed and make you cry out in pleasure. 

You nod, trying to move with him but he is well and truly fucking you into the mattress, and it’s all you can do to just hold on for the ride.

“So, you must find Nathan attractive too?” Blue teases, his voice even and unhindered despite his deep bucks as he sinks in and out of you. 

You whine, your back arching, “Blue,” you squirm, gasp at a partially deep thrust that robs you of all thought and makes your toes curl. You cling onto him, sliding a hand up to the back of his neck. 

“It’s alright,” he soothes, leaning down quickly to kiss your lips and swallow your moans, “I’ve got you.” And that’s when he really starts to move. 

You all but scream at the rapid snap of his hips, pleasure turning your bones to liquid as he fucks into you, pushing you higher and higher as he hits every spot perfectly inside. 

You can’t speak, can’t form words as he presses every single sensation out of you except for euphoria, playing your body perfectly to his wishes. 

Your skin is on fire, every nerve tingling with the onslaught of your impending orgasm. He rolls his hips, the sound of his thrusts and your cries mixing. It’s so hot and wet between your legs, slippery as he just glides along your walls and sinks impossibly deep. 

He kisses your lips, nips and bites your jaw and then sucks one nipple into his mouth as his fingers pluck and play with the other. 

Your thighs are shaking, your moans growing in pitch as you desperately hold onto him, nonsense slipping from your mouth as your mind liquifies. 

You don’t even hear the door open, too lost in your pleasure. But Blue does. 

He looks up, but doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t move his mouth from your skin. 

Nathan smirks. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

You gasp, your eyes snapping open to see Nathan standing by the foot of your bed. “Natha-” You try to stammer, but Blue grinds his hips down and your cry cuts off the rest of his name. 

“Enjoying him?” Nathan asks nonchalantly, like he was asking about the weather as he climbs onto the bed. He lays next to you on his side, his elbow propped up so he can rest his head and still watch your face. 

“I…” You whine, you blink heavily, your mind isn’t working. Isn’t functioning at all, all you can do is feel and it feels so, so good. 

Blue hums as he laps at your breast, his hips pistoning at an unforgiving pace, not giving you even a second of reprieve from the pleasure. 

Nathan grins, he shifts closer, his voice low. “I knew you would.” He swallows, watching for the expressions on your face. He darts his tongue out to trace his bottom lip, thoughts racing. 

“They like you.” Blue mutters, moving his mouth away from your skin just enough to be heard clearly. 

You want to ask how he knows, what gave you away. But you don’t even get the chance to try.

Nathan presses a sweet kiss to your lips, groaning when you reciprocate and grab the back of his neck with one hand to pull him closer. He slips his tongue past your lips, stroking your cheek tenderly. 

It’s a vast juxtaposition to how Blue is fucking the very life out of you. 

You whine, your muscles tensing as you get close. 

Nathan pulls back just enough to speak, his voice thick and hazy. “Make them come.” And then kisses you deeply once more.

Blue hums, pulling his mouth from your chest without slowing his manic thrusts. He slips his hand under Nathan’s shorts and Nathan lets out a surprised groan as Blue palms his erection. 

But he doesn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he helps Blue pull them down his legs before he plucks at your nipples while he licks into your mouth.

Blue twists his torso that would have been impossible for anyone save a contortionist and licks a strip up Nathan’s hard cock before he takes him deep into his throat. 

Your toes curl, the pleasure drowning you as you shake and spasm. You whine in Nathan’s mouth, his beard tickling your skin, and his lips muffling your moans. 

You come hard, the sensation hitting you all at once and then flooding you. It robs you completely of thought, whiting out your vision as you’re swept away completely by pleasure. 

Nathan thrusts into Blue’s mouth lazily, pulling back so he can watch your face as you come apart. He bites his lip, groaning for a second before he pulls Blue up to watch too. 

“Fucking beautiful,” Nathan whispers. 

Blue slows his hips as you relax under him, gently coming to a stop. He kisses your cheek as you open your eyes, while Nathan sucks at your neck. 

“You out for the count, or can I be gentle with you?” Nathan mutters. 

You breathe heavily, sweat cooling on your skin, your muscles aching. But you don’t get to answer before Blue is doing it for you. 

“Very gentle… if they agree.” He kisses your cheek again as he slowly pulls out of you and you whine softly. He rubs the inside of your thighs to ease the burn as he gets up.

“Very gentle,” Nathan repeats, sitting up and pulling off his vest and wriggling himself completely free of his shorts. “Very, very.” He moves between your legs, watching you with soft doe eyes. “Can I?”

You nod. But he tuts.

“Gonna need you to say something, sweetheart.” He smiles.

“Yes.” You say, giving him a little look that makes him laugh. 

“Haven't had the sass fucked out of you then. Good.” He kneels between your legs, his heavy cock in hand. 

You glance down and can’t help but smile and shake your head when you see him, he’s exactly the same size as Blue.

“What?” He grins. 

“Of course, you have a big dick.” 

Nathan puffs out his chest a little. 

“He made me two inches shorter,” Blue says, “but he-”

“I left the inches where it counts.” Nathan snaps playfully. “Now are you gonna put those inches to good use or what?” 

Blue smiles sarcastically sweetly at him. “Of course I am.” He takes hold of Nathan’s cock with one hand and lays the other flat on his lower back, guiding him towards you. It’s Blue that strokes Nathan through the creaminess of your release before he pushes in, he keeps Nathan slow and careful, sinking in until you're stuffed full. 

You let out a soft moan, you’re sore but it’s nice, more than nice. Pleasure burning just at the edge of your senses. 

Nathan groans, his muscles twitching under the force to stay still. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” 

“Gentle.” Blue whispers in his ear, the smallest hint of a warning in his voice that sends a shot of arousal along Nathan’s spine. 

He nods, his eyes lidded. 

You're a little surprised when Blue rubs the lube from his cock over two fingers and eases them inside Nathan, forcing him down on top of you, his chest pressed to yours. 

The moan Nathan lets out is sinful, deep as it rumbles against your skin. 

You grab hold of him, wrapping your hands around his back as he buries his face into your neck, every breath coming out as a whine and grunt. 

Blue smiles at you as he opens Nathan up for barely a minute before he guides his own cock inside. “He’s used to taking it.” He wriggles his eyebrows at you and you bite back a smile. 

Blue rocks gently, quite unlike the rapid thrusts he’s used before. He barely pulls out but swirls his hips, the force of his movement moves Nathan in turn and you. 

It’s slow, syrupily sweet with every push and pull. You grind up, moaning when Nathan simultaneously rubs against your clit with his pubic bone and the head of his thick cock slides against your walls. 

“Think you can come again?” Blue asks you, one hand between Nathan’s shoulder blades, while he links fingers with you with the other. 

“Ugh, please,” Nathan groans into your neck. He feels like jelly sandwiched between the both of you, the pleasure making him lightheaded. 

You nod, biting your lip. It’s building in a rush, so close to boiling over. 

Blue smiles and squeezes your hand. 

It only takes a few more languid rocks for the pressure on your clit to explode. You come with a cry, shaking. This one isn’t as hard, it doesn’t shatter your very being but it’s long and drawn out, thick and molten and leaves you exhausted. 

Blue thrusts three times harshly hitting Nathan’s prostate each time as you squeeze and pulse around his cock and he comes with a deep moan, emptying himself and holding you tight.

It’s only then that Blue allows himself to follow you both into pleasure, moaning both of your names happily.

Thank you for reading!

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[nathanbatemanfucker]

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

[alwaysmicado]

in control

3.9k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: pwp, fingering, choking, unprotected p in v, rough sex, degradation, spitting, dacryphilia, breeding kink Summary: Nathan degrades you for being his desperate little toy A/N: This is straight up filth. Seriously. I’m so thirsty for this man it’s not even funny anymore. Stay hydrated y’all and enjoy my depravity! -> masterlist

“See, baby? You don’t like it when I treat you so nicely,” he murmurs, his smug tone and intense gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

- - -

The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the expansive deck. The rhythmic thud of bandaged knuckles striking a bag punctuates the quiet air. Nathan, shirtless and drenched in sweat, throws precise punches, his movements a display of calculated power. As you approach, he doesn’t pause, acknowledging your presence only with a brief glance.

“Enjoying the view?” he scoffs breathlessly without looking your way.

“Just needed some fresh air,” you lie as your eyes wander from his shaved head to his glistening shoulders, following the path of his back muscles all the way down to the thin fabric of his gym shorts stretching over his shapely ass.

You involuntarily cross your legs, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

Nathan smirks, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before returning to the relentless assault on the punching bag. He sees right through you. He knows why you’re here. 

“Desperate for some attention, are we?” he taunts you, practically smelling the raw need you exude. “Thought you were throwing a hissy fit ‘cause of Kyoko?”

He’s such an asshole. 

Storming off into the night after finding him balls deep inside his android yesterday was not your proudest moment, sure. But fucking her on your desk after ignoring you all day was just unnecessarily cruel.

“It’s not a big deal,” was his annoyed answer when you attempted to confront him a few hours later.

Confronting a man incapable of admitting any wrongdoing proved to be futile, though, as usual. Half a bottle of vodka deep and barely able to keep his eyes open, he was in no mood for company, let alone to entertain your jealousy. 

“Quit your whining and get the fuck outta here if you’re so over me,” he slurred before drifting off to sleep on the couch. You would get out, you really would. If only your craving for Nathan wasn’t an irresistible force that defies reason and prevails over all rationale.

“Fuck you, Nathan,” you spit, the missing bite in your words betraying you. 

His chuckles ripple through the air as he brings the punching bag to a stop.  

“Can’t do that anymore if you keep acting like a jealous brat, baby,” he says, shaking his head while unwrapping his knuckles, his glistening chest heaving with each controlled breath.

“I’m not–” 

“You’re not what, hm?”

Lifting his eyebrows in mock intrigue, Nathan lets the bandages fall to the floor as he closes the distance between you two, his gaze fixed on yours like a tiger stalking its prey — penetrating your soul with an unwavering intensity.

His lips curl into a small, satisfied smile when he notices how dilated your pupils are and how your breathing has quickened. You’re convinced he can hear the pounding of your heart in your chest and feel your panties get wetter with every step he takes towards you. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he cages you in by placing his hands next to your head, pressing your body against the cold glass panel with his. The heat radiating off his naked skin envelops you, his scent a heady combination of musk and sweat that lingers in the air. It’s a raw and masculine aroma, intensified by the heat of the moment, causing you to bite your lip in anticipation.

Nathan’s eyes bore into yours as he gently guides your hand to his cheek, the rough texture of his beard a familiar sensation against your palm. He searches your pleading eyes for a moment longer, the tension of unspoken truths palpable in the air as his fingers trace the soft contours of your thigh. Heat spreads under your skin as he gives the plush meat of your ass a rough squeeze, pulling apart your cheeks, before the tension snaps and his lips crash onto yours in a bruising kiss.

His lips, forceful and insistent, meet yours with an unrestrained urgency that borders on primal. You moan into his mouth as he grabs your ass harder, lifting your leg up to rub his hardening erection against your throbbing clit. You roll your hips in sync with his thrusts, pulling him closer by the back of his neck, your tongue swirling around his with an aggressive fervor that only Nathan brings out of you. His breathless groans spur you on, your fingernails digging into his back so hard you’re leaving marks.

You need him closer, harder — you need to feel him, need him to be yours. 

When you slide your hand between your bodies to rub his cock over the fabric of his pants, impatient for him to fuck you senseless, he immediately grabs both of your wrists, pinning them next to your head against the glass.

“What happened to ‘I don’t wanna do this anymore, Nathan’?” he mockingly throws your own words back at you while sloppily kissing and biting at the delicate skin of your neck, leaving dark bruises behind. You can’t hold back the moans that escape your lips, the alternation between his soft and violent touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your whole body that pool in your core. Your nails dig into your own palms as the pain of Nathan’s canine teeth breaking your skin is almost too much to bear.

“Ow, fuck!” is the only thing you can get out, too caught up in the overload of sensations assaulting your body to process Nathan’s words.

“You know why it pisses me off when you say shit like that?” He releases your wrists and loses no time waiting for your answer, pressing his lips against yours again, nipping and biting as he pulls aside your panties and pushes three fingers inside your wet heat in one swift motion, the slightly painful intrusion knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

“Because it’s a lie, baby,” Nathan growls as he expertly moves his fingers inside you, fast and rough, the obscene squelching sounds coming from your wet pussy emphasizing his point. “What we do, what we have is exactly what you want.”

“It’s no–,” you start before Nathan’s right hand wraps around your neck within a split second, knocking your head against the glass behind you and squeezing hard enough for you to become light-headed. His hard cock presses against your hip as he ups the pace of his fingers inside you, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. You’re this close to coming already, but you know that Nathan would never let you get off this easily. 

“That’s right, baby,” he purrs with a tilt of his head, pulling away from you just enough to look into your glazed over eyes. “It’s so much nicer when you don’t have to use that dumb little brain of yours, hm?”

You furrow your brow and let out a strangled groan as Nathan brings you closer to your peak with every curl and pump of his fingers. You thrust your hips to meet his movements shamelessly, your carnal need for release more important than your dignity.    

“Goddamn,” he chuckles into your cheek, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear. “I can never get the androids to grip me this hard.”

You immediately try to shove him away from you, but it’s useless, he’s too strong for you. He rolls his eyes at your pathetic attempt at defiance, pulls his fingers out of you, grabs your ass with both hands and lifts you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you close, petting the back of your head in a deceptively soothing manner.

“If you insist on being a bitch, you can get yourself off on the dinner table again,” he coos into your ear, his cock twitching at the memory of you rubbing yourself on the hard edge for half an hour, whining and shaking, as your juices dripped down onto the floor. Of course he had you lick it all up while jerking off in front of you, adding more fluids for you to clean up with your tongue. 

He did invite you to sleep in his bed with him for the first time that night, so there’s that.

“That what you want, hm?”   

“No, I–I’m sorry,” you whimper into the crook of his neck, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 

Nathan sighs deeply, like he isn’t turned on beyond belief by your whimpering, moves you away from the glass and carries you inside, heading for his bedroom. 

“Aren’t you tired of trying to be in control, baby?” he asks as he fumbles with the key card in his pocket before opening the first door with it. “Of course you are,” he goes on as he carries you down the hallway, the soft thumping sound of his naked feet on the floor echoing in the empty space. “All those big thoughts can’t fit in that little brain of yours. You’re just not made for it.” 

He presses the keycard to the sensor of his bedroom door and steps inside after it opens with a quiet whoosh. “But it’s okay,” he murmurs into your cheek as he lays you down on his bed, “now I’m here to take them all away.”

Nathan chuckles when you avert your gaze from your reflection staring back at you, finding it amusing how embarrassed you get sometimes. It’s genuinely intriguing to him how you can act so innocently when you both know what kind of fucked up shit gets you off.

“Take your clothes off and spread your legs,” he orders without looking at you, turning his back to you as he takes off his own pants, spits in his hand and starts stroking his length. You do as he says, your eyes locked on his fat cock in the mirror, your sopping wet panties clinging uncomfortably to the contours of your puffy folds before you finally pull them down your legs. 

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you,” Nathan scoffs as his eyes roam your naked body, imagining how good your warm cunt is gonna feel around his aching cock. He kneels between your spread legs and traces your inner thighs with his warm palm slowly while grabbing one of your breasts with the other. You moan at the feeling of his firm touch and tilt your pelvis to thrust against nothing, the muscles in your thighs and lower belly tensing.

“Stay still,” he grumbles, leaning in to suck your soft flesh into his mouth, pumping his length as he flicks your nipple with his tongue. You put your hands on the back of his head to pull him closer, the feeling of his teeth slightly grazing your nipple eliciting a breathy moan from you. He releases your wet tit with a loud plop, sits back on his heels between your spread legs and jerks off for a bit, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he watches your lip quiver in frustration. 

“Always so dramatic,” he sighs with a roll of his eyes before spitting on your pussy and watching closely how his saliva runs down your wet folds, spreading it around with his fingers. Your eyes widen and your grip on the sheets intensifies in anticipation as Nathan leans over you and guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, swiping it through your combined wetness before pushing into you in one quick thrust. 

“F-Fuuuck,” you moan, arching your back and furrowing your brow as the delicious stretch of his cock takes you by surprise. 

He buries himself deep inside of you with a low groan, his forehead pressed against yours, his forearms planted on the bed next to you while his hands cradle the crown of your head. 

You expect him to hold you down and immediately start rutting into you like he usually does, but instead, Nathan holds you gently, pressing soft kisses on your lips and the bruised skin of your neck while thrusting into you slowly. 

You fucking hate how gentle he is with you, how he enjoys feeling you squirm under him, how he pins your hands next to your head when you try to make him move faster. He delights in the pathetic whines falling from your pretty plush lips, revels in every desperate thrust of your hips and every strained clenching of your walls.

“What’s the matter, hm?” Nathan whispers into your neck, trailing the soft skin with his lips. “Is this not enough for a dirty little slut like you? Look at me.”

You meet his gaze with watery eyes as he continues to fuck you at a pace that is just enough to keep you on the precipice of orgasm, but is not enough to push you over the edge. Every soft kiss he presses on your face and neck burns your skin, his unusually tender touch driving you crazy. But no matter how much you wriggle and writhe, no matter how many desperate pleas fall from your lips, and no matter how much you move your hips, he won’t up his pace or manhandle you in the slightest.

It’s torture. 

“See, baby? You don’t like it when I treat you so nicely,” he murmurs, his smug tone and intense gaze sending a shiver down your spine. 

“You like it when I tie you to the bed and fuck your holes until you’re a drooling, sobbing mess,” he says softly without breaking eye contact, the way your pussy is squeezing his cock in reponse telling him all he needs to know.

He grins and keeps rolling his hips at a slow pace as he goes on, “You like it when I shove my fist up your cunt and fuck you until you piss yourself. You like it when I make you drink my cum out of Kyoko’s pussy and keep your head in place until you’ve licked her clean. You like it when I–fuck–when I tie your hands to a tree and tell you to get yourself off on the rough bark until your pussy’s bleeding.” 

“Please, Nathan, I–”

“You–you like it when I drug your drink and fuck your unconscious body, the cameras filming every sick thing I do to you, making sure I can watch–fuck, your pussy’s gripping me so hard–making sure I can watch it over and over again.” 

He grabs your chin to force you to look at him when you dare to move your head away, hooking his thumb in the corner of your mouth and pulling it down so he can spit right onto the back of your tongue. When he’s sure you’ve swallowed it, he taps your cheek approvingly before cradling the crown of your head with his warm palms, making sure to not change the pace of his hips thrusting in and out of you.

“You like how I keep going when you cry and thrash about, begging me to stop. You like how I make you deepthroat a fat dildo on the wall while I’m fucking your ass, making you struggle to take both. You–oh shit–you like it when I use you like the desperate little toy you are.”

“Goddamnit, Nathan, just–”

He immediately pulls out of you and sits back on his heels, watching in awe how the mix of his precum, spit and your juices pools on his sheets, forming a big wet spot between your thighs. You throw your head back and grip your arms in frustration, pressing your legs together to alleviate some of the unbearable ache that’s causing tears to well up in your eyes. Your clit pulsates painfully and your walls clench around nothing as Nathan smirks and lines his cock up with your hole again. 

“Only a desperate little whore like you would get off to someone doing such awful things to her,” he purrs, nudging your entrance with his fat tip as you lie there, limp yet tense, completely at his mercy. “And now you can’t even get close when I treat you so gently, can you?”

“Nathan,” you whimper, tears now spilling from your eyes, your whole body shaking from straining so hard. “Please.”

“Fuck, I love it when you cry,” he groans, his pupils blown. “Makes my dick so fucking hard.”

He pushes both your legs up and leans over you again, so your calves rest on his shoulders while your thighs are tightly pressed against your torso. You scratch his arms as hard as you can when he sinks his cock back inside your swollen cunt in one smooth thrust, giving you no time to adjust to the new angle as he sets a brutal pace, your pained sobs mixed with moans of pleasure spurring him on. 

“Tell me you need me to fuck you like the whore you are,” Nathan pants breathlessly, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh snap of his hips, the sounds of smacking flesh and your combined moans echoing in the room. “It’s okay, baby,” he breathes, his brow furrowed, “it’s just how nature programmed you.” 

The dark glint in his eyes returns when you don’t answer and turn your head away from him instead, concentrating every fiber of your being on your imminent orgasm. You’re so close you can taste it.

Nathan doesn’t like that one bit. 

He pulls out of you again, but doesn’t leave you enough time to protest as he’s already maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, fucking you hard from behind, before you even realize what’s happening. 

“Go on, then,” he growls through clenched teeth, his hips slamming against your ass with each powerful thrust. “Pretend you don’t want it.” He grabs your neck and shoves your head down into the mattress, forcing you to face your reflection in the mirror as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Scream for me while I fuck you. Beg me to stop.”

“Nathan, please, I can’t–,” you croak out, but your brain completely shuts off when he deliberately starts hitting your G-spot over and over again.

“What was that, baby?” he pants, letting go of your neck to spank your ass hard, the searing pain causing your walls to involuntarily flutter around his cock. 

“Goddamn, you’re a depraved whore,” he groans before sending another blow to your sensitive, red cheek. Your pained sobs make his cock throb inside you, impatient to finally paint your walls with his cum. 

“Admit what you are and I’ll give you what you want,” he reaches around your front to rub your clit roughly, immediately feeling your muscles tense and your walls constrict around him so tightly he can barely move. Your loud, uninhibited moans are music to his ears.

Nathan knows he’s the only man alive that could ever make you sound like this, and he fucking loves it — loves that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

“Say it.” 

“I’m your filthy little whore,” you whine, your voice hoarse from all the crying and moaning you’ve done today. “Please let me come on your cock, Nathan, please. I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it,” he rasps, abandoning your clit to grab your neck again, putting his weight on you as he picks up the pace and thrusts into you ruthlessly. “Come on my fucking cock.”

It only takes a few more of his calculated hits to your pleasure spot before you finally tip over the edge and come with a strangled moan, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock uncontrollably. Shockwaves of pleasure grip your body, as your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. Nathan fucks you through it, holding onto your waist with a bruising grip, not letting up until he comes himself, grunting and moaning for you to “take it, take all of it,” as he empties himself deep inside you. His hips jerk a few more times and his moans come out as ragged breaths while his cock pulses inside you, your wet heat eagerly swallowing every last drop.  

“Fucking hell,” he pants breathlessly when he’s getting enough blood to his brain again, planting his hands on the bed behind him and leaning back as he slowly pulls out of you, watching your swollen cunt contract around nothing. 

You collapse on the bed and let your body fall on your back, pulling up one knee and putting your arm over your eyes to have a moment to come down and gather yourself. 

Nathan’s cum burns as it starts leaking out of your sore pussy and onto the mattress, your heart is pounding and your whole body is covered in sweat and bruises. You’re so out of it that you don’t even flinch when Nathan lies down between your legs and starts pushing as much cum as he can back inside you with his fingers.

“Don’t wanna waste that,” he murmurs more to himself than you, mesmerized by the way your puffy, wet pussy swallows the liquid gold that is his cum. 

You’re exhausted. Satisfied, but exhausted — mentally and physically. So you let him be.

“Don’t move,” you hear his calm voice before you feel him get off the bed and hear water running in the bathroom. You wince when the warm washcloth makes contact with your sticky folds and thighs, but Nathan is gentle in his ministrations, making sure to clean you up thoroughly without applying too much pressure.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles into his beard as he concentrates on your neck next, carefully wiping away the minimal traces of dried blood, inspecting your skin closely to make sure he didn’t bite you too hard. 

You observe him in silent curiosity, as aftercare is usually not something that Nathan is willing to give you. He would sometimes let you sleep in his bed after blowing his load, but that’s about all of the affection he’d grant you.

He sets aside the washcloth and dims the lights with a snap of his fingers before leaning against the headboard of his bed, propped up by a big pillow. “C’mere and drink this,” he says, draping his arm around your shoulder when you sit down next to him, handing you a cold glass of water. 

You eye it suspiciously as the color is a faint pink and you can never know with Nathan. Sensing your thoughts, he shakes his head and lets you know that it’s a special vitamin drink he regularly uses after his workouts. “Good for muscle recovery and, uh, hematomas,” he murmurs, drawing circles on your arm with his fingertips and watching your reflection in the mirror.

You drink the whole glass in one go, only now realizing how dehydrated you are. A small, self-satisfied smile tugs at Nathan’s lips as he sees the bruises on your neck move with each gulp.

Right when you lean over to set the empty glass down on the nightstand, the automatic door to Nathan’s bedroom opens with a soft whoosh. The clicking sound of Kyoko’s high heels follows, sending a chill down your spine. The android places a neatly folded pile of towels on the chair next to the bed, keeping her head low, her movements measured and precise as always.

She’s gone again before you can even think to cover yourself up.

“No need to be jealous, baby,” Nathan murmurs, pulling your frozen body close and pressing a gentle kiss to your wet cheek.

“You’re my favorite toy.”

- - -

[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

[loki-hargreeves]

Smile For the Camera

filming / whipping / abo

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x f!Reader Warnings/Tags: [18+ / MINORS DNI], filming during sex, piv, no plot (it's just nasty), established relationship, overstimulation, creampie, vulgar language Word Count: 1.3k Summary: Nathan wants to film a little something with you for his personal enjoyment A/N: I'm using this kinktober prompt list by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction . Also, it's my first time posting a Nathan fic so I hope it's okay 🎃

"Come on, smile for the camera, honey," Nathan asks, bringing his phone close to your face. It had been discussed previously, so it didn't come as a surprise to you, nor did you mind it. In fact, in your blissed-out state of mind, the idea of him filming you was almost amusing. Another way for you to make him happy by entertaining this fantasy.

"Nathan," You giggle softly and give in, revealing your pearly whites for the lense. There is a comforting heat on your cheeks and chest as you lie there, heart racing and trying to catch your breath after coming on Nathan's cock for the nth time that night. That man is an overachiever in everything he does, including sex which you've come to learn quickly. It's like he's always trying to beat a personal record of either how many times or how fast he can make you come.

"That's right," he caresses your cheek and resumes a slow yet steady pace of burying his dick deep inside. He's on top of you missionary-style so he can see and film your pretty face as he drives you fucking crazy. In this position, his pelvis brushes against your clit which adds to the overwhelming experience. This must be some form of heaven.

As soon as he moves, all thoughts fly out of your brain except for how he's making you feel. After so many orgasms, you're sensitive and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he moves. Nathan pulls out a little and dives right back in, wanting to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl.

"Mmmh.." You moan and grab his strong shoulders, needing the support. When you're close like this, the scent of his cologne fills your lungs. Nathan smells amazing, his cologne mixing with the scent of smoke and firewood from being around a firepit earlier. His skin feels warm and soft against yours.

Nathan loves this. He loves how he can bring you to the edge of pleasure and help you come out of that shell. He takes pride in being able to fuck you into a sweet, mindless haze. By now, he knows your mind and body. He has learned how to make you unravel hard and hell, does he enjoy it.

Nathan focuses the camera on your body, wanting to capture the way you squirm against the silk sheets as he barely even moves. Eventually, he reaches toward the nightstand and places the phone down so he can use both hands on you. Now the phone films you from the perfect angle that still shows your face.

"So fucking pretty," Nathan grunts and caresses your cheek. His own pleasure is growing and it's harder to hold back. Especially now as he knows he's gonna get to watch this back later. Maybe he'll show it to you too because he knows your reaction to seeing the video will be priceless. Maybe you'll be flustered but he knows you'll love it. Nathan knows what turns you on deep down even though you might act embarrassed sometimes.

"Oh!" A yelp escapes your kiss-swollen lips as Nathan fucks you harder. He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer to his body, using quite a bit of strength. It's rough and desperate, yet caring all at once. His other arm hooks behind your head so that your face buries into the crook of his neck. His muscular body is like a blanket over yours, caging you between him and the mattress as his hips roll into yours. Now, no matter how much you squirm, you remain underneath him.

"Oh fuck! Nathan!" You cry out in pleasure. His fingers dig into your thigh as he keeps going. The throbbing of his dick reveals that he's close.

"Come on, baby...take it, take my cock," Nathan growls into your ear, his voice deepened by urgency and desire. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo throughout the room and are surely picked up by his phone that's filming it all. That, and the noises your slick pussy makes each time he bucks his hips. Your juices have made a mess of the sheets, there's no doubt about it.

Suddenly, Nathan reaches between your bodies. He looks you in the eye whilst his fingers find your swollen and sensitive clit, making you jump from being overstimulated.

"You've got one more in you," Nathan murmurs and kisses the side of your face. "Cum for the camera, wanna see you... fuck, wanna see you fall apart," He moans as his own high nears him. For the asshole he sometimes can be, he's definitely a giver when it comes to you. Or maybe he just loves the stroke of the ego when he makes you come countless times before letting himself climax. It definitely boosts his own pleasure.

"Nathan! Don't stop... don't stop!" You swear you see stars by now. This orgasm takes you by surprise. Nathan barely has to play with your clit when it all comes crashing down. Your walls clench around his cock tightly and overwhelming pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave. It rips away the last strength you had in the best way possible, turning you into putty in Nathan's hands.

He follows soon after. How could he not? His cock is buried snugly into you, your walls milking him for all its worth. Nathan holds onto you tightly as his pleasure takes over. Hot white ropes fill you up and Nathan allows himself to collapse over you momentarily. He growls in delight as his dick twitches deep inside your welcoming pussy.

"Mm fill me up, baby," You mewl at him and roll your hips beneath him, wanting to prolong his pleasure. Nathan gasps and has to grab your hip to steady himself. He takes a sharp breath and tries to regain his senses. Once he does, he's all smug and cocky again.

"I know you love my cum, honey," Nathan chuckles and takes a few more deep breaths. Then he grabs the phone from the nightstand, wanting to capture this post-orgasmic bliss.

You blow a kiss at the camera playfully while listening to your racing heartbeat. Both of you glisten from sweat that you worked up together but it's oddly comfortable. His phone captures the messy sheets and your lust-blown pupils.

As Nathan brings the phone further down, you feel flustered but it also turns you on in a strange way. He carefully pulls out of you and films the money shot, using his other hand to keep your legs spread. Soon enough, his milky white cum comes out of you. Glistening down your most sensitive parts.

"What do you say, baby?" Nathan asks you with a cocky smile, switching between capturing your face and the creampie on video.

"Thank you," You decide to be a good girl for him. Perhaps, if you weren't fucked to bliss, you would've found the energy to be a brat. It always gets a rise out of him. Not now though, not when all you want is to focus on the pleasure that you're sharing.

"That's my girl," Nathan is proud of you. He films your face and then brings his fingers to your throbbing pussy. He collects the cum with his fingers and then pushes it back inside, ever so slightly.

Your legs instinctively squeeze together, struggling to accept all this satisfaction. Every touch is electric, sending shockwaves everywhere. "Ohh!" That is all you can say as he experiments with your sensitivity, spreading cum over your clit and opening. Getting all your pretty expressions on film.

"That feel good?" Nathan asks softly as he too recovers from his orgasm. In some odd way, this is his way of showing affection as you transition from fucking your brains out to aftercare. Nathan has his own unique ways of showing that he cares. He has a talent for being an asshole and a sweetheart at the same time, which is kind of endearing.

You just nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try not to squirm away from those devilish fingers. The fact that what he's doing is kind of nasty just makes it better. It feels like Nathan is marking you as his own, the possessive man that he is.

Once he's done, Nathan lies back down and kisses your forehead. He makes sure to get one more closeup of that pretty smile. Then he turns the camera to himself, "Guess the system overloaded."

"Jesus Christ-" You laugh and roll your eyes at his joke, pretending to be annoyed, "You're such a nerd."

Nathan scoffs playfully and stops filming. He puts his phone away and allows himself to stay close to you for now. It'll be fun to watch back later. For now, he just wants to hold you and be grateful that you trust him enough to film something so intimate.

"Yeah, but you love me for it."

A/N: I need to rewatch ex machina because Nathan is kinda 👉👈 I hope this wasn't too ooc. I really hope you liked it.

[milkypompon]

Pink Interface

pairing: Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

summary: Nathan made you a period tracker... but it's nothing you'll find on the public market.

content: Fluff, talks of sex, period pains

wc: 1.1k

a/n: Nate... baby, your love language is being smart, an ass, and being a smartass.

Ex Machina Masterlist || Main Masterlist

–

A blanket of snow coats the ground, steadily thickening as it dusts the sky. Foxes usually come out to frolic, but today, there weren’t pawprints pressed against the white fluff.  They’re probably curling up in a hollow den. 

It’s hardly to be jealous about, given that you were pressing against shoulder to shoulder with Nathan as you trek up the mountain together — his warmth, a welcome pleasure, seeps into your body.

But this morning, out of all the goddamn days, you saw a familiar red stain. 

You wanted to postpone the hike, but he looked forward to it all week, and you didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. If anything, your hand-washed panty hanging on the towel rack would’ve been a giveaway, but you steered him away from the bathroom before he could see it. 

You claimed you nuked the toilet after drinking the annoyingly healthy green smoothie he made before the hike. 

Nathan frowned, “That’s an oddly graphic scene I didn’t need to imagine.”

At least it worked. 

Now, here you were, suffering from your own doings because you didn’t want to see a pouting Nathan. 

You clutch your midriff and come to a halt. “Nate, could we take a break?”

He frowns at your pained expression. Usually, you were the one dragging him up the mountains — pointing to the fox tracks or the last place you two sat down to drink hot chocolate. But now you’re a few paces behind him. There was definitely something wrong.

Snow crunches underneath his boots, making his way to you to hold you. His hand slips underneath your puffer jacket and thermal long-sleeve, you writhe under his touch. He’s confused at first before he begins to connect the dots. 

“Jesus Christ… are you pregnant?”

Your mouth gapes at the stupidity of his question. 

The pause was long enough for him to ask again, “Are you… pregnant?”

You huff and shove his shoulder. “What the fuck? The opposite, you dumbass! I’m bleeding out my uterine lining!”

“I know what a period is!”

“You had me there going for a sec because you spend more time with your vaginaless androids.”

He gives you a sideways smirk. “Hey, give me some credit. I started doing that when we got married!”

Then, Nathan sighs, a mix of relief and embarrassment washes over him. “Besides, can you blame me? We fucked in the rest-stop cabin after our hike last time.”

A ping catches both of your attention.

Your eyes land on his smartwatch. “I thought it was your scheduled wellness day today. Still got people messaging?”

He presses on the square screen and mumbles, “Oh, there was a bug in the code. Now it makes sense why I’m only finding out now.” 

“Huh?” 

Nathan gives you his signature smile — pearly whites that made women swoon and closed business deals… or when he was withholding information.

You were positive that it was the latter in this case. 

He wraps an arm around you and walks back to the facility. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

The last time you let him build up anticipation, he revealed an android clone. He claimed it was for you to use when he was out on business trips as long as he had access to the live feed. You weren’t shocked, to say the least, considering this was Nathan Bateman.

Equal parts genius and horny. 

At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if he made one of you, too, so he could watch the androids fuck each other. 

–

You shed your jacket and settle into the crook of the couch, curling in on yourself to suppress the pain.

Nathan kneels in front of you, combing his fingers through your hair. “Baby, tell me what you need. Tea? A hot pad? Snacks?”

“You’re stalling.”

“Am not.”

“We’re not toddlers, Bateman. Give it to me straight.”

“Don’t get weird with me, ‘kay?” He sits on the couch and tugs you onto his lap. 

You roll your eyes, shifting your weight on him comfortably. “If you made an android of me so you can watch it have sex with Masturbateman, then color me utterly not surprised.”

He frowns and thumbs your hipbone. “I spent hours perfecting it, and that’s the name you gave my android?”

“That’s what you got out of that conversation?”

Nathan cups your asscheek and squeezes it. “If you keep getting snappy with me, I won’t show my new project.”

You huff but give in, nudging your face into the curve of his shoulder. 

He leans forward to grab his tablet from the coffee table, the screen displaying… a period tracker?

“What’s up with the pink interface? That’s such a gender stereotype.” You prod just to piss him off, but it does the opposite.

He grins as if he’s been waiting for you to ask that question. “The color is sampled from your urine mixed with endometrium when you’re nearing the end of your menstrual cycle. It’s aligned with hex code #FAA0A0–”

You steal his words from earlier today, “That’s an oddly graphic scene I didn’t need to imagine.”

“But look at this. It detects your four phases by inputting your BMI and medical history.” Nathan’s lips curl up. “You have a really regular cycle, y’know?”

You snort. “You’re the only man who would say that as a compliment, you fucking nerd.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just telling you the facts.” He pats your thigh. “Anyway, do you have a preferred date when you want your period?”

“Uh, what?”

“I can program the app to delay your period indefinitely. Want a three month break? It’ll happen. Want it to never return? Easy. So, what’ll it be, baby?”

“You’re doing overtime on the god roleplaying…”

He laughs, amused at your reaction. “Hey, I’m just answering your question. I can tell that it’s a big headache for you, so I figured I’d extend you an olive branch.”

“Wait, how did you link this up to my body in real time?”

“What do you think I’ve been sprinkling into the green smoothies?”

You pinch his cheek. “I’m not one of your androids, Nathan.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs. “But, you’re right. My androids wouldn’t complain.”

You hide your teasing grin behind a hand. “It could be easily solved if you get me pregnant, but we both know how you feel about that.”

There’s a quietness as he places the tablet down. Neither of you discussed this unless it was in passing when you’d comment on how cute baby mittens are and wondered what their blended food tasted like. 

He was well aware that raising a child wasn’t like building his projects. Raising a human was more difficult than creating artificial intelligence that could pass as a human. 

Nathan blurts, “I want you to have my babies.”

–

Nathan's hips thrust into yours, he leans into your ear and whispers, "The tracker tells me when you're ovulating too."

You say in between moans, "Mmm, I'm gonna shove you off, if you don't shut the fuck up."

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[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

[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.

[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

[winniethewife]

But I'm gonna love you anyhow

(Nathan Bateman x F!reader)

A/N: Inspired by a Prompt by @gingersforeverbox

Words:679

“So that's the new girl that he’s dating?”

“They’ve apparently been going out in secret for months”

“She looks…” Like what a whore? A Bitch? A floozy? A Gold digger? She almost dares them to finish the sentence as they talk behind her back. “Nice.” Ugh that was worse than an insult. She could do without all these fake niceties that this kind of crowd always seems to rely on. She took the champagne flute from one of the servers with a polite smile. She sips at it and looks around for a moment, trying to spot Nathan in the crowded room. She understood the importance of going to these charity galas occasionally to keep him in good graces with the public eye, but after several months of spending all their time together out in his home in Alaska, all these people was almost overwhelming. She didn’t belong here, among the upper crust, with the press outside hoping for a glimpse, she felt out of place, even if she was perfectly dressed and styled like every other person in the room.

She finally spotted Nathan across the room, he looked nice in a suit, he was so often dressed in casual lounge wear that she had honestly been shocked that he even owned one. She watches as Nathan laughs at something the guy he was talking to said, she knew him well enough to know that was a fake laugh, the way the smile didn’t reach his eyes, it was obvious to her, but to no one else. She smiled slightly at the thought, the idea that of all the people in the room, she was the only one who truly knew him. As she watched him he eventually looked over at her, a genuine smile crosses his face. He turns to the people he was talking to and appears to dismiss himself before walking over to her.

“You look amazing Honey. How am I so lucky to have you?” He asks cheekily while wrapping an arm around her waist, she feels the nerves and irritation from the evening wash away as she feels his hand gripping her side firmly, with a gentle possession.

“I don’t know, you’re kind of an asshole, I’m not sure why I stick around.” She teases as she leans into him. He looks down at her resting her head in the crook of his arm with mock offence.

“Oh my darling why- Why would you say such a thing?” He couldn’t keep up the fake hurt tone bursting in to laughter midsentence. “No, no you’re right. I deserve that no doubt. But I will say, you make me want to be better, but only for you. Fuck the others.” He kisses the top of her head before looking out on the party. As He scans the room he holds her close, and as he holds her she can’t help but feel emotions surging in her chest, to hear something so sentimental from Nathan was unusual, but she liked it. The Judgement of the others in the room was far from her mind now, the feeling of outsiderhood vanished. She could belong anywhere as long as he was with her. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. As long as he was with her, she could be anywhere, do anything, and be anyone. The options were unlimited.

"I don’t think I want you to change. I think that's what I love about you...you're just...you." She says with a smile and a turn, her back against his chest now, his arms still around her. Nathan chuckled. He was really the luckiest guy in the room. There was so much she didn’t know about him, but she was going to love him anyhow. And that was more than he could ever hope for. He leans down to whisper in her ear.

“I’ve heard there's some oddly phallic ice sculptures in the other room…wanna check them out?” He mutters. She laughs. There’s not a thing about him that she would change.

“I would love to see that.”

~

Masterlist

Tags: @burymesanti @silvernight-m @faretheeoscar @queerponcho

[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

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Troubleshooting

Nathan Bateman x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 23: Begging

Summary: Nathan can't say no to a challenge.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry).

Warnings: reader who has trouble orgasming by just penetration alone, p in v sex, cream pie, pet names, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 765

“Nathan please,” you gasp, grabbing hold of the edge of his desk desperately as he pounds into you from behind.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, I got you.” He mutters, his voice gravely with the strain of holding back. He grasps your waist, keeping you still as he thrusts inside. 

You whine, tears in your eyes from being on the edge for so long. Part of you wishes you hadn’t told Nathan that you couldn’t come by penetration alone, but you didn’t realise quite how much of a personal challenge he would take it as. More fool you.

It feels so good, which is most of the problem. It makes pleasure spike and burn, but it never quite crests, never lets you get completely there.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, you know that?” He growls, spreading his feet wider apart to change the angle. 

If you were a little more coherent you’d throw a sarcastic comment back at him, but the time for frontal lobe thinking was long past. 

“Please!” The sob breaks in your voice. It was bordering on painful how much you needed it, how desperate you were to come. 

Your slick dripped down your thighs, the slap of skin echoing loudly with every thrust. 

“You can do it, baby,” he moans deep in his throat, “I know you can, I know you can come.” 

“I can’t,” you tense, your muscles aching from tightrope walking you along the precipice. 

“You can, you can,” he groans, the sound vibrating through you. “I believe in you.” 

It would almost be sweet if you didn’t want to cry. Pleasure twisted along your nerves, pulling them tight but refusing to snap. Sweat dripped down your back, as he moved, trying a different angle, different speed. He’d been trying for what felt like forever. Unable to stop troubleshooting until the problem was fixed. 

You gasp, as he thrusts shallowly, tensing, your blood buzzing as he hits the same spot in quick, rapid succession. 

“Nathan!” 

“There you are, there you are,” he mutters, part of you wants to hit the smug grin off his face that you just know is plastered to it. “Little more.” 

It’s good, mind-numbingly good, but it’s just not going to get you there. Your clit throbs, yearning for the smallest touch to send you over the edge. 

You sob, your arms weakening. Your left gives out for a second, buckling and you yelp before Nathan grabs you, keeping you from falling and smacking your head on the corner of his desk. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he pulls you close to his chest, kissing your neck greedily as he grinds his hips, keeping his cock deep inside. 

His beard scrapes along your skin and you moan, gasping for air. You couldn’t do this, this was too much, you needed to tap out, to-

He squeezes your left breast in his hand while his other runs down your stomach, his fingers rubbing your clit once and then you scream. 

Your orgasm hits you so hard, tensing every muscle as you convulse and cry out. Pleasure spikes up your spine, cutting under your skin and making your eyes roll back. You gasp out his name, practically vibrating and pulsing along him as your body finally collapses into pure bliss. 

Nathan groans, growling as your walls squeeze and milk him harder than he can ever remember. He shutters, barely managing to thrust one more before he comes deep inside, filling you to the brim. 

He holds you close, slumping back into his desk chair and taking you with him. 

You let out a little huff of air as you land. 

Nathan nuzzles your neck, sucking lightly and whispering sweet words. 

“So much for, ‘you can get anyone to come on your cock alone.’” You mumble, but there’s no heat in your words, too blissed out. 

He chuckles. “Guess you’re a problem I’m going to keep having to try to solve.” He holds you tight, rubbing your arms soothingly. “You okay?” 

You nod. 

He kisses your cheek. “Sorry I couldn’t keep going,” he mutters, “you just sound and feel too good for me to not indulge you.” 

You glance over your shoulder at him, pulling a face. “Indulge me?” 

He grins, “oh yeah,” and slips his hand down between your legs, he brushes his fingers over your clit and you jump, wriggling and moaning softly. “I don’t think I showed here enough attention, did I?” 

“Nathan,” you try to say warningly, but it comes out wanton. 

His grin widens, “I know you got one more in you.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[nathanbatemanfucker]

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

[alwaysmicado]

The Bunny

7.1k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Nathan Bateman Masterlist | AO3

Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, soft(ish) Nathan, mild smut, alcohol, drunk Nathan being horny, emotionally repressed idiots in love Summary: When you’re distressed over something very personal, Nathan shows you a side of himself that you haven’t seen before. A/N: This story can be read alone or together with my other Nathan fics. In my mind, this is the same reader as in predator & prey, in control, Fleshlight and smile, baby—but it doesn't have to be. Happy reading & let me know what you think! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @/cafekitsune.

Your life with Nathan is an exercise in contradiction. 

It’s like orbiting a distant star—searing heat one moment, icy indifference the next. 

You hate that you find him attractive, hate that his arrogance somehow draws you in, but you can’t help it. He has an irresistible pull on you. You don’t understand him, and that’s part of the problem.

One minute, he’s a brilliant visionary; the next, a drunken, whiny mess. And somehow, amidst the confusion, you’ve found yourself craving his touch more than anything else in the world.

You’re not dating, not in any traditional sense. The boundaries of your relationship blur after dark, but you’ve seemingly found a rhythm that works for both of you. And that rhythm entails staying out of each other’s personal business. 

What you have is casual. At least, you’ve convinced yourself it is.

Sometimes, when he’s being particularly infuriating, you wonder if it’s just stress relief for both of you; fucking your frustrations into each other simply because you’re both there. Other times, you catch yourself overthinking every little detail, wondering if you’re falling for him, and if so, whether it’s the man or the enigma you’re falling for.

You try not to think about it too much.

He has this way of getting under your skin though. It could be the way he lazily sprawls across a couch, his eyes half-lidded but alert, or how he dismisses your concerns with a casual wave of his hand, expecting you to move on as if nothing he says or does affects you. But you do care. It does affect you.

And it annoys you how much.

Tonight, after a long day of work, you retreat to your room, needing space for yourself. Nathan’s house is a labyrinth of technology and luxury you’ve come to really love and appreciate for its unique design and remoteness, but there’s a particular, strange comfort in the sterile, minimalistic walls leading to your bedroom. They don’t judge, don’t ask questions. They don’t look at you with the unsettling intensity that Nathan sometimes does.

You close your door, leaning against it as you exhale. Your room is your sanctuary, cluttered with things that feel out of place in Nathan’s stark, clinical world. Books, trinkets, and your beloved bunny plushie resting against your pillow, a remnant of simpler times. A remnant of that wide-eyed girl with ambitions and a thirst for adventure who vowed to get the hell out of that miserable town.

Well, that girl is grown up now. And she’s exhausted, more mentally than physically.

You’re struggling to keep up with your deadlines, rationalizing your work, and the overwhelming feeling that you don’t deserve to be here, that Nathan made a mistake when he selected you, that you’re simply not cut out for this life. 

You take a deep breath and decide to put on your comfiest pants and a soft shirt, get into bed and read a bit while sipping on a warm cup of tea. Yeah. That’s what your soul needs right now. No Nathan, no androids, no computers, no nothing. Just you and your favorite Kazuo Ishiguro book.

But then, as you reach for the mug on your nightstand to empty the leftover coffee from this morning, your hand slips. The coffee spills, soaking the sheets, and worst of all, your bunny. The dark liquid seeps into his white fur, staining the once soft, clean fabric.

You freeze and a moment of pure, unfiltered horror grips you. You don’t hear the mug shattering on the floor over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. The sight of the plushie, now a soggy mess, tugs at something deep inside you as you stare at it through watery eyes. It’s not rational, you know that, but emotions seldom are. It feels as though a part of your childhood has just been desecrated.

You’re devastated. 

The kind of devastation that tightens your chest, that makes everything inside you twist until you’re sure you’re going to break. You try to swallow it down, to contain the storm brewing inside, but it spills over before you can stop it.

And before you know it, you’re screaming. 

It’s a scream born of frustration, from the sudden surge of emotion that you can’t quite name, let alone control. It’s raw, primal, echoing off the cold, sterile walls outside and traveling through every inch of the house. The kind of scream that demands attention, that insists the world recognize your pain, even if you don’t fully understand it yourself.

You barely register the thudding of footsteps—heavy, quick, purposeful. Nathan. Of course it’s him. He’s always watching, always listening, probably heard you through one of his countless surveillance cameras. In a place like this, your privacy is an illusion, your every move monitored, recorded, dissected.

And now, your pain has become just another blip on his radar.

He’s probably annoyed, you think bitterly. Annoyed that he had to stop whatever important work he was doing in his lab because he can’t have you screaming and crying and possibly bleeding out in his house.

Nathan doesn’t tolerate messes, especially not emotional ones. And with the hangover he’s likely nursing, his patience is probably thinner than usual. You imagine him wincing at the sound, the way it cuts through the quiet, sharp and unrelenting, aggravating his already pounding head.

The door rattles as he reaches it, and you can almost picture the irritated expression on his face, the way his brow furrows, his jaw tightening. In that moment, you hate him for it, hate him for the way he can reduce you to a problem to be solved, an inconvenience to be managed.

But there’s a part of you, the part that’s still trembling from the force of your own scream, that’s also desperate for him to come in, to see you, to make it better, even though you know he won’t.

Because Nathan Bateman doesn’t do comfort. He does control. And in this moment, you’re the one thing in his world that’s slipping out of it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice is a mixture of concern and impatience.

You don’t answer, your heart still pounding, your hands shaking as you hold your bunny close, trying to assess the damage. It feels ridiculous, absurd even, but the sight of your beloved plushie, soaked and stained, has shattered something fragile inside you. You can’t explain it, don’t want to explain it, especially not to him.

Nathan knocks again, harder this time, more insistent. “Open up. Now.”

“I’m fine!” you shout back, but the words catch in your throat, betraying you with their shaky delivery. You try to sound convincing, but you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Sure doesn’t sound like it,” he retorts. “Let me in.”

You glance at the door, knowing that if he wanted to, he could override the lock. But you also know he won’t—at least not yet. He respects boundaries, in his own twisted way.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, and there’s a softer edge to his voice now, an undercurrent of genuine worry that catches you off guard. The knot in your chest tightens.

“What? No, I’m– I said I’m fine, Nathan. Just...leave me alone.” The plea slips out, your voice trembling, betraying how much you just want to be left in peace, to sort yourself out without being interrogated.

“I’m not doing that until you tell me what’s wrong. You can’t scream bloody murder and expect me not to–”

“I’m sorry.”

Nathan pauses for a moment, stumped. This isn’t good. This isn’t like you. “You don’t need to apologize,” he says, his tone calmer now, almost coaxing. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry.” The words come out rushed, panicked, like you’re trying to escape from the truth that’s threatening to spill over. But you know you’re not convincing him; you’re not even convincing yourself.

There’s a heavy silence on the other side of the door, and you can almost feel Nathan grappling with how to handle this. Then, he says your name—softly, but with a depth that pierces right through your defenses. It’s a tone of voice you’ve only ever heard a couple of times after some particularly demanding play sessions.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You close your eyes and take a shaky breath before responding. “I’m okay, Nathan. Just please…leave.”

You hate how weak you sound, how vulnerable, but you’re too overwhelmed to care anymore. You just need him to go, to give you space to fall apart in peace.

There’s a pause, a silence so thick you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind. You almost think he’s left, but then you hear the sound of him leaning against the door, the quiet sigh that follows.

“Fine,” he says finally, his voice lower now. “I’m, uh, in the lab if you...I’m working on Lana’s muscle tissue if you wanna help.”

His words hang in the air, an unexpected offer, awkwardly delivered. You can picture him on the other side, running a hand through his beard, trying to figure out how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.

Nathan Bateman, the genius, the mastermind, suddenly uncertain.

After a moment of continued silence, he steps back, respecting your wish. The concern, however, doesn’t leave his mind. His footsteps fade, leaving you alone with the mess you’ve made. The room feels colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves have drawn back in silent judgment. You slump down onto the bed, staring at your poor bunny, your fingers tracing the wet patches on his fur. 

For a second, you could swear you see disappointment in his glassy, button eyes.

The digital alarm clock on your nightstand blinks back at you as you wake up from your nap, showing that it’s well into the evening, the sky outside already swallowed by darkness.

The adrenaline that had surged through you earlier has long since dissipated, leaving behind a hollow, drained feeling in its wake. It’s as if the very act of screaming, of letting that raw emotion pour out of you, has stripped you of energy, leaving you brittle, fragile.

You know you should take a shower and change the sheets, but the thought of moving feels overwhelming. So you sit there, numb, your mind replaying the events of the past few days on a loop.

Eventually, it’s not resolve or determination that drives you to get up, but hunger. A dull, persistent gnawing that you can’t ignore. You drag yourself out of bed, each step feeling heavier than the last as you make your way to the bathroom to clean up at least a little bit.

The house is quiet as you make your way to the kitchen, the usual hum of activity subdued, as if it too is holding its breath.

When you enter the living room, Nathan is already there, seated at the table, a glass of red wine in hand. The rich burgundy liquid swirls lazily in the glass as he tilts it, the glow of the ceiling lamps casting a soft, golden light that highlights the curve of his nose.

His expression is unreadable at first, his usual mask of casual detachment firmly in place. But as his eyes land on you, taking in your disheveled appearance—your eyes red-rimmed and swollen, your gaze fixed on anything but him—something in his demeanor shifts. He’s never seen you cry outside of sex, and the sight unsettles him more than he’s willing to admit.

Nathan isn’t a man who deals well with vulnerability, especially not when it comes from someone like you, someone he’s come to rely on for your sharp mind and quick wit. But now, seeing you like this, raw and exposed, something inside him stirs—a protective instinct he didn’t know he had, and isn’t sure he wants.

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he remarks, his tone light, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—concern, maybe? It’s hard to tell with him.

You shrug, avoiding his gaze as you grab a plate from the counter and start dishing up whatever’s left from dinner. You’re not really hungry, but the act of eating feels like something normal, something grounding.

Nathan watches you in silence, his gaze heavy. You can feel it, like a weight on your shoulders. You sit down at the table, focusing intently on your food, though it might as well be cardboard for all the flavor it has. You avoid eye contact, keeping your gaze fixed on your plate or the glass in front of you, anything to avoid meeting those piercing eyes that seem to see too much. The fork in your hand feels foreign, and every bite is a chore. You down three glasses of red wine in quick succession, the warmth spreading through you in an attempt to numb the edge of your anxiety.

But even the wine can’t drown out the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Nathan starts talking, his voice filling the space between you. He launches into a detailed explanation of the progress he’s made with his newest creation, his words laced with the usual excitement he reserves for his work.

Normally, you’d be right there with him, diving into the technicalities, challenging his ideas, offering your own insights. It’s what you do—it’s what makes you a great team. But tonight, it’s different. Occasionally, you nod or murmur a soft “hmm,” but it’s clear that your heart isn’t in it.

You’re not there with him—not really—and it’s obvious.

“...so close to healing itself, I’m telling you. The polymers have shown to be extremely resilient–” he hesitates mid-sentence, as if waiting for you to jump in, to offer the insight that usually comes so naturally to you. But when you don’t, when the silence stretches on longer than it should, he falters.

He looks at you, then at Kyoko standing obediently in the background, then back at you.

“Kyoko, leave us alone,” he instructs the mute android, his eyes tracking her as she leaves the room. Once the door clicks shut behind her, he doesn’t waste a second. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t look at him, poking at your food with a deliberate slowness, hoping he’ll drop it. “No–”

“Don’t say nothing, this isn’t nothing,” he interrupts, his voice firm, leaving no room for evasion.

You stiffen, your fork clattering against your plate as you glare at him. “Why do you care?”

He raises an eyebrow, unfazed by your sharp tone. “Because you screamed like someone was murdering you. And now you’re sitting here looking like a kicked puppy. So yeah, I care.”

“I don’t wanna tell you. How about that?” You lift your head, forcing a condescending smile that feels like a shield, one you hope will keep him at bay.

Nathan’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t back down. “And I can’t have you crying and moping around. It’s…distracting.”

“Well, I’m sorry for distracting you, Nathan,” you bite back, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “It won’t happen again.”

A beat passes, and in that moment, you can see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to piece together what he could have done to upset you this time. His thoughts race, quickly scanning through recent interactions, searching for any sign, any clue that might explain why you’re so distant, so...off.

Nothing stands out. You’ve always been able to hold your own, not easily shaken by his brusque nature or single-minded dedication to his projects. But then, his mind lands on a familiar concern—something that’s come up before. It’s the only thing that makes sense. 

“You’re not jealous ‘cause of Lana, are you?”

You snort, the sound more bitter than amused. The idea is so absurd that it doesn’t even warrant a full laugh.

But Nathan isn’t laughing. His eyes narrow slightly, his usual sharp gaze honing in on you with unsettling precision. He studies you carefully, analyzing every microexpression, every subtle twitch of muscle that might give away what you’re really feeling.

His gaze travels slowly, deliberately, from your face down to your neck, lingering there for a moment before moving to your arms. You have a couple of visible bruises from last night, but that’s to be expected given the way you and Nathan play. 

But now…now he’s wondering if he might have crossed a line without realizing it, if he pushed too far and you’re too proud to speak up.

“Was I too rough yesterday?” he asks suddenly, his voice low.

“Huh?” The question throws you off, the abrupt shift in his tone catching you by surprise.

“Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” There’s a faint line of guilt etched across his brow, a rare sight.

You stare at him, your eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and weariness. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh, the exasperation clear in your voice.

“I know this is a difficult concept for you to grasp, but the universe actually doesn’t revolve around you,” you say, your tone resigned, almost tired. “There’s more to life than androids, having sex with androids, having sex with me, or even you and me as people. It’s all meaningless bullshit, Nathan.”

Nathan blinks, momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of your words. He tilts his head slightly, studying you as if trying to decipher whether you’re serious or if this is just another one of your biting remarks. “Are you okay?”

You let out a small, bitter laugh, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The irony of your own dramatic outburst isn’t lost on you, and you can’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. As you down the rest of your wine in one quick gulp, the warmth of the alcohol does little to dull the edge of your emotions.

“No. No, I’m not.”

Nathan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then tell me what happened. Might help.”

You bite your lip, frustration bubbling up again. “I can’t. It’s dumb.”

You brace yourself for the inevitable snide remark, for Nathan to dismiss your feelings with some cynical observation about the meaningless nature of the universe, to reduce your pain to just another inconsequential blip in the grand scheme of things.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he surprises you.

He leans back further, his posture more relaxed, his gaze steady as it locks onto yours. “Not if it makes you this sad. Come on, talk to me.”

There’s no condescension, no sarcasm, just an unexpected patience that catches you off guard. For a moment, you just stare at him, searching his face for the usual smugness, the mask of indifference he wears so well. But it’s not there. Instead, there’s something else, something gentler, and it stirs something inside you that you’ve been trying to suppress for some time now.

You sigh, feeling the fight drain out of you as the weight of the day catches up. “It’s stupid, Nathan. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t rush you. “Try me.”

You absentmindedly play with your napkin as you decide to rip the bandaid off. “I spilled coffee on my bunny.”

“You spilled coffee on your bunny,” he repeats slowly, as if trying to understand.

“Yeah.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like you don’t have other vibr–”

You roll your eyes, secretly amused by his thought process. “It’s not a fucking vibrator.”

“Okay, but unless you’ve been secretly building an AI rabbit, I don’t–”

“It’s a plushie.”

“A plushie.”

“Yeah, my bunny Cinnamon. I’ve had him since I was fourteen and he’s been with me through school and my whole adult life and through everything. I’ve always taken care of him, making sure he doesn’t get dirty, and today I spilled my stupid fucking coffee that I don’t even like ‘cause you buy these stupid beans no normal human would ever like, and I spilled it on him and it soaked into his fur, and now he’s ruined ‘cause I’m a clumsy fucking loser who can’t even take care of an inanimate object.”

You finish your rant, raising an eyebrow. “Happy?”

Nathan looks at you with a furrowed brow, clearly taken aback. For a moment, you think he’s going to laugh, and you hold his gaze, ready for the ridicule you’re sure is coming.

But he doesn’t laugh. He just stares at you, a mixture of confusion and...something else in his eyes. “Why don’t you just clean it?”

You push your chair back abruptly, the legs scraping against the floor, and stand up, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Forget it. This was stupid. I’m going to bed.”

You turn to leave, but before you can take a step, Nathan’s hand is on your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Wait.”

You stop, not turning around, not trusting yourself to face him.

“Hey,” he says, softer this time. “I’m not...I’m not making fun of you, okay? I just...didn’t expect that.”

You glance back at him, and the look on his face is so uncharacteristically sincere that you actually believe him. He looks almost...concerned. Genuinely concerned.

“It’s just a plushie,” you mutter, feeling foolish for letting him see you like this. But Nathan doesn’t let go of your arm.

“Maybe. But it obviously means something to you.” He hesitates, then adds, “Let me help.”

You stare at him, unsure of how to respond. This is new territory—Nathan offering to help with something so personal, something so seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t part of your job description, nor is it part of your usual dynamic. You’re not sure how to feel. 

“What do you mean ‘help’?”

Nathan smirks, that familiar cocky edge returning. “I could make Cardamom or whatever his name is–”

“It’s Cinnamon,” you interject, your tone flat but with a trace of amusement that you can’t quite suppress.

“–play the piano or explain particle physics to you if I wanted to,” he continues without missing a beat. “You think I can’t clean him up?”

You sigh. Can’t argue with that.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “But you can’t be too rough with him. His fur is very delicate.” The words come out more vulnerable than you intended, and you can feel the weight of what you’re entrusting him with.

“That’s why I’ve avoided washing him—I’m scared he’ll get damaged in the process. And be extra careful with his right ear. My grandma had to sew it back on a couple of times, and it’s barely hanging on.”

You pause, looking deeply into his eyes before you add, “And I know you probably think there’s no way I’d ever figure out you replaced him, but I swear I will. And I swear I’ll smother you with a pillow in your sleep if you do.”

Nathan’s smirk fades slowly, replaced by an expression that’s surprisingly serious. He nods, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that’s rare for him. “I won’t. I promise.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Then, you pull your arm from his grip, feeling the warmth of his touch linger even after you’ve stepped away. You nod towards the hallway. “I’ll go get him.”

Nathan nods, his eyes following you as you leave the kitchen. Once you’re out of sight, he exhales deeply, the tension in his shoulders releasing slightly. He pours himself another glass of wine, the liquid sloshing into the glass, and without hesitation, he chugs it down in one go.

The quiet of the night wraps around you, a stark contrast to the tension that has filled the kitchen just moments ago. The sound of your footsteps crunching on the gravel path is the only thing that breaks the silence as you start walking, letting the night sky and the crisp air clear your mind.

The stars above are faint, blurred by the ambient light of the house, but their presence is calming. You shove your hands into your pockets, trying to steady your breathing, to let the chaos in your head dissipate with each step you take.

The trees rustle softly in the wind, their branches swaying gently, and you find a rhythm in their movement, letting it guide you further away from the house, from Nathan, from everything.

As you walk, the tension in your chest begins to ease. The cool air feels like a balm on your frayed nerves, each breath you take helping to untangle the mess of emotions swirling inside you. The doubts, the worries, the unexpected tenderness of Nathan’s promise—all of it seems to drift away, carried off by the breeze.

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky. The vastness of it makes your concerns feel small, insignificant, like a tiny piece of a much larger puzzle. And yet, your feelings of inadequacy still weigh on you, lingering in the back of your mind.

The walk brings a sense of clarity, a chance to distance yourself from the intensity of your worries, your stress, your fears. You needed this—to step away, to breathe, to remind yourself of who you are outside of everything that’s been happening. The steady rhythm of your footsteps, the coolness of the air, and the quiet solitude of the night slowly bring you back to yourself.

As you step inside, the house is cloaked in a quiet stillness, the dimmed lights casting soft shadows across the sleek decor. There’s a warmth to it that you hadn’t noticed before, a subtle comfort in the way everything is arranged, each detail meticulously chosen. It feels like home. It sounds strange, even to yourself, but it does.

This is your home.

You find Nathan lounging on the couch in his sweatpants, a beer in hand, the television on but muted, the flickering images washing his features in soft, rhythmic light. There’s a stillness to him, a calm that contrasts sharply with the man you’re used to—a man of constant motion, always thinking, always creating.

The scene is oddly serene, almost peaceful, and you take a moment to just look at him, to take in the man who has become such a pivotal part of your world.

It’s strange to think about how much has changed in the past year. How this man, with all his brilliance and flaws, has shown you a life you couldn’t have dreamed of before.

Empty bottles litter the table, evidence that he’s been going at it since you left an hour ago, either lost in his thoughts or deliberately trying to drown them. It’s hard to tell with Nathan.

You sit down beside him, feeling the tension in your body ease further as you settle into the familiar proximity.

Nathan glances at you, his eyes briefly scanning your face before he wordlessly offers you the bottle. You take it, the cold glass a comforting weight in your palm, and bring it to your lips. The cool liquid slides down your throat, its familiar taste bringing a sense of comfort.

“Feeling better?” Nathan asks, his voice rough around the edges.

“Yeah,” you nod, handing him the bottle. 

You shrug off your jacket, draping it over the arm of the couch, and you catch the way Nathan’s eyes immediately track the movement. His gaze lingers on the way your tight shirt clings to your curves, the fabric accentuating every line, every contour of your body.

It’s a work of art, and Nathan knows a thing or two about art—about bodies, creating bodies, perfecting them in ways that only a mind like his can. But as he looks at you, he’s aware that no creation of his, no flawless android, could ever compare to the real thing. To you.

There’s something different in his gaze tonight, a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch. He shifts beside you, setting the bottle aside as he turns to face you more fully. “Come here,” he says, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment, you hesitate. But the pull between you is irresistible, a magnetic force that’s seemingly always been there, drawing you together. You move over, straddling his lap as his hands find their way to your back, sliding down to your ass, pulling you in until every inch of you is pressed against him.

His touch is familiar, but tonight it feels different—deliberate, meaningful, loaded with intent.

He inhales deeply, his nose tracing the delicate line of your neck, his beard tickling you, his breath warm against your skin. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but sigh softly, your hips moving instinctively against him, seeking relief from the growing heat pooling low in your belly. The hardness of his erection pressing against you only intensifies the need building inside you, the ache that demands to be satisfied.

Nathan’s hands roam your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine with a touch that’s both soothing and electrifying. When his lips find yours, the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but the hesitation doesn’t last long. The kiss deepens quickly, becoming more insistent, more demanding, making your head spin.

You’re both growing impatient quickly, the need for each other driving you to the brink. Hips bucking, teeth biting, lips sucking—you’re lost in the all-consuming sensation that is Nathan, in the desperate hunger that consumes you both. 

He grips the fabric of your shirt and pushes it up over your breasts, leaning in immediately to suck on your nipples, teasing, flicking, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, while his hands knead your flesh, pinching, groping, biting with a fervor that sends jolts of intense pleasure coursing through you. 

Unable to hold back any longer, he releases your breast with a wet pop, his breath ragged as he crashes his lips against yours again in a desperate, heated kiss. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you so close that there’s no space left between you, his need for you palpable. He holds you as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, as if letting go isn’t an option.

One hand slides up to the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin as he deepens the kiss, while the other hand is splayed across your back, pressing you tighter against him. Every moan that escapes your lips is met with a hungry response, as if your sounds are the only thing anchoring him in this moment, the only thing that matters.

You’re close, so close, but it’s not enough. Nathan wants more—needs more. He wants to have you, feel you, own you, swallow you whole. He wants to lose himself in you, to find solace in the way your bodies fit together, to forget everything else in the world except for the way you make him feel.

You feel the same, more than ready for him to fuck your brains out and make it all right. But as much as you want him, need him, you can’t ignore the way your lungs are burning for air. Unlike the perfect creations in his lab, you do need to breathe. 

You pull back slightly, your lips parting from his as you gasp for air. But when you look into Nathan’s eyes, you’re struck by what you see there—something you’ve never seen before, something that reaches out and wraps around your heart, squeezing it in a way that almost hurts.

Something you’re not sure either of you are ready to face.

“I’m, uh...I’m tired,” you mumble, breaking eye contact as you clumsily slide off his lap and tug your shirt down, the movement awkward and hurried. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, and your hands tremble slightly as you adjust your clothes, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I’m going to bed.”

Nathan lets out a deep sigh, his hands falling to his sides as he watches you retreat, the space between you growing with every step you take.

There’s a sense of resignation in his posture, a silent acknowledgment that the moment, whatever it was, is slipping away. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, as if trying to wipe away what just happened, as if trying to regain the control that he’s always prided himself on.

He reaches for his beer bottle on the table, lifting it to his lips and taking a long, slow swig. The familiar taste does little to ease the frustration gnawing at him, but it gives his hands something to do, a way to distract himself from the thoughts spinning in his mind and the persistent throb of his painfully hard cock twitching in his pants.

As he sets the bottle back down with a muted clink, movement catches the corner of his eye. Kyoko appears, her presence as silent and seamless as ever, slipping into the room like a shadow. She moves with that same fluid grace, her expression blank, her purpose clear. Nathan’s eyes flicker to her, and for a moment, his gaze lingers, examining the beautiful android.

Nathan doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to.

As you fumble with your key card, hands trembling slightly, you manage to swipe it through the reader and push the door open to the hallway. But something tugs at you, a nagging curiosity or perhaps a sense of masochism that makes you pause. You glance back over your shoulder, hesitating just long enough to let that impulse take hold. Quietly, you turn and peer around the corner.

Kyoko kneels between Nathan’s spread legs, her movements fluid and precise. Her head dips lower, and Nathan’s hands tighten on the edge of the couch, his knuckles white. His head falls back against the cushion, his eyes closing as a groan slips from his lips—low, guttural, filled with a raw need that makes your stomach twist and your clit twitch.

The heavy door hisses shut behind you as you step into the hallway, but the noise doesn’t drown out the scene you’ve just witnessed. You walk, move away from the door, but halfway to your room, you hear it—his voice, needy and rough, reverberating through the corridor.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

The words are drawn out, dripping with a mix of pleasure and arrogance. You can almost see the smirk on his lips, feel the way his eyes might flicker with satisfaction, knowing full well you can hear him. He’s doing it on purpose, pushing your buttons with calculated precision, reveling in the power it gives him—the sense that he’s back in control.

It’s only when you’re finally under the covers, staring up at the ceiling in the stillness of your room, that you allow yourself to process what just happened. The events replay in your mind, sharp and vivid, but the more you think about it, the more surreal it seems. 

Maybe you were just imagining things. What you thought you saw in his eyes…it can’t have been real. It’s easier to dismiss it, to chalk it up to your own wishful thinking rather than confront the complexity of what it might mean.

You know Nathan too well. He gets needy when he’s loaded, it’s a pattern you’ve seen countless times before.

Sometimes that neediness manifests in long, rambling monologues about the futility of human existence and the inevitability of death, his voice heavy with cynicism and a touch of despair. Other times, it manifests in something more primal, a desperate hunger for a body to fuck, a way to drown out the noise in his head, and someone to make him feel like he’s still doing something right in a world he so often views as chaotic and meaningless.

Tonight was no different, was it? Just another of his drunken nights where he needs to either pour out his soul or lose himself in the physical, grasping at anything—or anyone—to stave off the emptiness that gnaws at him when he’s left alone with his thoughts.

The idea of it being anything more feels almost ridiculous.

You wake to the smell of freshly brewed coffee sitting on your nightstand and the sight of Cinnamon, clean and dry, resting beside you on the bed. You blink, still groggy, as you reach out to touch him, half expecting it to be a dream. But he’s real, his fur soft under your fingers, the stains gone as if they were never there.

You sit up and scan him carefully, trace the little scratches on his eyes, examine the stitches on his ear, and determine that this is in fact him. You smell him, but can’t detect any detergent or other substance that Nathan could have used to clean him. 

You decide no to ask him how he did it.

A smile tugs at your lips, a warmth blooming in your chest as you hold the plushie close. Nathan actually did it. He took care of him, just like he promised. For you.

Sliding out of bed, you grab the coffee from the nightstand and head to the bathroom, savoring the warmth of the cup in your hands. As you take a sip, you’re surprised to find that it tastes better, smoother. You pause, raising an eyebrow. Did he really switch the beans? Must’ve hit a nerve when you complained about them last night. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror and sigh. The past few days have taken a toll, and it shows. Dark circles, dry skin—definitely time to stop moping and do something about it. You take another sip of the coffee, the rich, new flavor lingering pleasantly on your tongue, and as you lower the cup, something catches your eye.

Sticking to the bottom of the cup is a small, folded post-it note. You pluck it off, unfolding it with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

good as new, no need to murder me in my sleep

also, his name should be Cinnabun

he’s a bunny

You smile to yourself, carefully stick the note on the inside of your mirror cabinet, and take a moment to make yourself look halfway presentable before heading to the kitchen.

Nathan isn’t there, but the used blender and the bandages lying next to the punching bag on the deck tell you he’s already been up and about. You think of what you’re going to say to him on your way to the lab.

When you enter, you find him leaning against a glass table, a disgustingly healthy green smoothie in hand as he reads something on his tablet. He doesn’t look up when you enter, but you know he’s aware of you.

“Morning,” you say, your voice soft, tentative.

“Morning,” he replies, not looking up from the screen.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, you settle on the simplest thing, the thing that’s been on your mind since you woke up.

“Thank you, Nathan. He looks great.”

Nathan finally looks up, his gaze meeting yours. He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, though you catch the slightest tug at the corners of his lips.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his tone casual, like it’s nothing at all.

But it is something. It’s everything, really, and you can’t hold back anymore. Before you can think better of it, you close the distance between you and wrap your arms around him in a tight, impulsive hug. It’s most definitely not what you planned on doing, not at all, but it feels right.

Nathan stiffens at first, clearly not expecting the gesture, but then he puts down the smoothie and tablet, and his arms come up to return the embrace, hesitantly at first, then more firmly. It’s strange, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat against you like this, but it’s also comforting in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

You stay like that for a moment, neither of you saying anything, just holding onto each other. When you finally pull back, Nathan’s expression is unreadable, but there’s a softness in his eyes that makes your heart ache. You want to say something, but the words don’t come.

Instead, it’s Nathan who breaks the silence. “You wanna see something cool?”

You smile at him, nodding. “Sure.”

He leads you over to another table where he’s been working on Lana’s thigh muscles. The intricate work is laid out in front of you, a testament to the hours he’s poured into perfecting every detail. He points to a small, precise incision. “You see this cut? It was a centimeter deep. Now look at it.”

You lean in, examining the area closely. The wound is almost completely healed, the synthetic tissue knitting itself back together seamlessly. “It’s almost healed. Incredible,” you say, marveling at the rapid regeneration.

Nathan observes your reaction with satisfaction, but there’s a slight furrow in his brow, a sign that he’s not completely pleased with his work. “It is. But I feel like I’m hitting a wall with these new polymers I’ve been testing.”

“Yeah?” You glance up at him, curious.

“Yeah,” he continues, his gaze shifting to you. “I’ve been meaning to get your input. See if you can spot something I’ve missed.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re stunned. The acknowledgment, the unexpected validation, it takes a second to sink in. Despite your best efforts, you can’t suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. It’s small, but the warmth it brings spreads through you, impossible to hide.

All you manage is a quick nod before turning swiftly toward the disinfectant dispenser next to the door.

As you methodically disinfect your hands, the cool liquid a sharp contrast to the warmth blooming inside you, and then pull on the nitrile gloves, you’re too focused on controlling your own emotions to notice the way Nathan’s eyes are fixed on you. His gaze lingers, taking in every small movement, every detail of your response.

His thoughts are a tangled mess, caught between admiration for your skill and the quiet way you’ve earned his respect, confusion at the intensity of his own feelings, and something dangerously close to longing.

Thank you for reading! Nathan Bateman Masterlist

Tag List: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @pattwtf

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

idk i love the idea of a stoic yet secretly simpy nathan bateman being your secret admirer

not because he's shy but because you hate his guts and he finds that hot

he loves to piss you off in person and delight you from afar