#nathan bateman x fem!reader
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"Can't ignore the mistletoe" with Nathan please
I'm so sorry this took so long! <3
Is there anything you want to ask for?
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Nathan Bateman x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •
Warnings: Nathan being a dumbass, allusions to blow jobs, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!
Word Count: 727
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You’d been suspicious the second Nathan had started grinning like the Cheshire cat. Any obvious glee on his face was always a cause for slight concern, especially if you couldn’t work out the reason for his expression straight away. 
“What?” You ask, your voice calm and even as you stop in your tracks. You’re one step away from breaching the threshold of the kitchen.
He blinks once, pulling his grin back into a more reasonable smile. “What?” 
You stay looking at him, so used to this behaviour by now that you don’t even bother to roll your eyes. 
“It’s no fun if you don’t say something else.” He teases, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. 
“Good.” 
He tuts, pretending to be annoyed but you can see through his facade easily. “Come here.”
You stand firm and raise an eyebrow. 
“What?” He shrugs, stepping back to lean against the counter. 
“What?” 
He gives you a look, “You were coming in here a second ago.” 
“That was before you gave me that killer clown expression.” 
Nathan snorts, “A smile? You’re calling my smile a-”
“Yes, I am.” 
“That’s very mean,” he shakes his head, “You���ve hurt my feelings actually.” He says unconvincingly. 
“Oh, you have feelings, do you get them in the new update?” You try to say seriously but can’t even finish the sentence without smiling. 
“That was a good one,” he mock claps for you, “how long have you been working on that devastating jibe, princess?” 
You give him a playful glare as you walk into the kitchen, your previous mistrust briefly forgotten. “Fuck off Natha-” 
You yelp in surprise as he pounces on you, wrapping his strong arms around your body.
He gives you another cheeky grin and purposefully glances upwards. You inwardly groan when you follow his line of sight. There’s a sprig of mistletoe hastily suck to the ceiling above your head. 
“Can’t ignore the mistletoe.” He gives you a smarmy grin. 
“Is that real?” 
“Of course it is.” 
“Where did you get it?” 
“What’s with all the questions?” He leans a fraction forward and you pull back. There’s a small flash of emotion across his face that you can’t quite place. Panic. He freezes for half a second, his muscles relaxing as he lets you go. “I got it on the walk this morning.” He says quietly, his voice softer as he takes a small step backwards. “I just thought…”
“You want to kiss me that bad, huh?” You nudge his arm gently and he scowls.
“No.” 
“Liar.” 
He glares at you, his mouth open to retort. But he doesn’t get the chance. 
You rush forward, pressing your lips to his in a frenzy and slip your tongue inside. 
He gasps, tensing for a moment before he moans softly and kisses you back eagerly. His glasses bump against you slightly as he moves, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he presses closer.
His beard brushes against your skin, his kisses deep and warm and wanting. Needing to devour more and more of you. 
He follows you when you pull back, his eyes closed as he tries to keep his lips pressed to yours. A gulp echos in his throat as he stills himself, breathing hard. 
“I…” He starts.
“I knew you wanted to kiss me.” You tease, smirking at him and raising an eyebrow. 
To your surprise, he looks a little bashful for a moment, almost embarrassed. “Yeah.” 
You bite back a snort. “Yeah?” You press a little closer, enjoying the, for once, slowed down Nathan. You can practically see the cogs whirring behind his eyes. 
He nods, swallowing thickly as you lightly place your hand on his chest and walk him backwards until he bumps into the counter. 
“You could have just asked.” You give him a playful look and he frowns slightly in confusion, as if the thought never even occurred to him. 
You slip your hand down his chest slowly until you can toy at his waistband and the very tip of his obvious erection. “So,” you stretch out the word, “Is there anything you want to ask for?” 
Nathan smiles cheekily, “Another kiss a little lower?” 
You laugh as he presses his lips to your cheek and you slip your fingers under his clothes. 
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nathanbatemanfucker · 9 months ago
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Again
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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
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loki-hargreeves · 2 months ago
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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 🎃
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"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."
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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.
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romana-after-dark · 1 year ago
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Pushing Buttons
Darkish!Nathan Bateman x fem!reader
Masterlist : Taglist
Summary: You purposefully piss Nathan off just to get used and degraded.
Warnings and Content: Hate fucking, everything is consenual but it not really what a good dom/sub dynamic should look like hence it being in the dark blog. Rough sex, spitting, lots of talk of sweat and spit. Foot fetish, Nathan is face stomping, which means he's got his foot on readers face, and the heel goes in her mouth at one point. I refuse to write literal non con on here and feel embarrassed for a foot fetish okay. LOTS OF DEGRADING TALK, like, seriously degrading. Only a little bit of aftercare and it's not an established part of their dynamic. Mentions of ass eating. Nathan and reader just being gross.
A/N: This is not the Dark!nathan I was talking about ealier but this was kinda a warm up to get a little more of a hold of his character. I may have to watch the movie again to get a feel for his mannerism. Or maybe I should write him drunk. Anyway. This came about after a convo with @hon3yboy and she encouraged me to write this after sharing hony thots about foot on face lol. Gonna take a quick sec and promo her, everyone should check out her Werewolf!Marc series
800 Words
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You’d done it on purpose, honestly. You’d pissed Nathan off intentionally after he’d been ignoring you all day. 
He was supposed to spend the day with you, take you hiking and fuck you in some steamy spring, but instead he had spent all day in his office coding. You tried to hang out in the office with him, to get him to remember his promise but instead you just got mad when you took a peek at his coding. You didn’t understand much about coding, but you looked at his notes and figured it out.
“You’re programming her to blow you?!?!?!”
This erupted in a big fight, Nathan insisting he wasn’t programming his AI to blow him, but to suck dick in general. You didn’t believe him, or maybe you did but you were too mad to think clearly, and ripped his computer off his desk and threw it on the floor.
That’s how you ended up here, tossed on the couch like a rag doll and molded into every position Nathan wants as he hate fucked you. At the moment, he had you on your knees and braced up against the arm rest as he knelt. With his fingers in your mouth, you gagged up spit that he smeared all over your face, rubbing your eye make up on your skin.
“Open.” Nathan order, and you vaguely open your eyes and mouth to accept the glob of spit that he didn’t even try to aim on your face.
“Dirty fucking whore, always trying to piss me off just so she can get abused.” Without a doubt, that’s what you did, but you fucking loved it. Sure, this wasn’t the perfect relationship, but it wasn’t really much of a relationship. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just here. And although it was never meant to last long, you enjoyed the chaos.
Nathan pulled out, and before you could think much on it, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back before shoving your face into the couch and adjusting his own position. Standing on the couch cushion now, Nathan steadies himself by twisting one of your arms behind your back and putting the other one on the backrest for stability.
His right foot was planted directly on your face.
Nathan Bateman was barefoot most of the time. Living in a home with heated floors, he liked to “Let them bad boys breathe” It was his same justification for sleeping naked. 
Planting his foot on your face was a new level of degradation as he fucked you, his words bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. 
“Pathetic, dirty bitch, letting me step on your face, letting me shove your face in my ass.” Nathan panted over you. He was fit, but the activities you both engaged in always made him breathless, his sweat dripping down from his hairless head and onto your face. You tasted the salt, moaning as your cunt clenched around his massive length. 
Nathan laughed a cruel, mocking laugh. “That turns you on? You’re fucking disgusting, you’re so pathetic, I should just- ohhhhfuckohfuck- I should just cum inside and got let you get off, leave you rutting against the couch like a bitch in heat.” Nathan filled you up over and over again, each thrust inward making his sweaty foot shove you into the cushion. “You're desperate enough, bet I could make you hum anything just to get off. God, sofuckingtight! Shit!” His grunts grow louder, his hips more frantic and you know he’s close, and so are you.
“Bet you’re the kind of girl I could fuck right up against a dumpster, just shove your face against the filth so I don’t have to look at your fucking face-”
That did it. “NATHAN!” You scream as you cum all around him, mouth wide open so his sweaty foot slide down enough you can taste him, but you don’t care. Nothing mattered when Nathan was inside you.
Nathan was cumming, filling you up as he called you his “disgusting little cum dumpster” and spitting on you one last time. With all the moisture on your face, his foot slipped off you and Nathan fell forward, his cock brutally spearing you as you both collapsed onto the couch.
“Fucking bitch.” Nathan smacked your ass as he walked butt naked, only to stop, pause, then turn around. Returning to your fucked out body, Nathan took his discarded shirt and wiped your face off before pulling a throw blanket over you. He leaned down, pinching your face in his fingers and speaking firmly. “Sleep”
Nathan pulled on his basketball shorts, and as your eyes drifted off into dreamland, so thoroughly exhausted, blissed out and satisfied, the sounds of Nathan taking the rest of his rage out on the punching back lulled you to sleep.
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I know it's not my strongest work but I just wanted to test out some Nathan Bateman
Also, im updating my tag list so even if you commented to be on my tag list, please comment again. Before, i just had TLOU and Moon Knight, but I've been expanding so comment Oscar or Pedro characters please!
IDK whose all interested bc Nathan Bateman and its like foot fetish based lmfao so just tagging @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and @alwaysmicado who support my insanity.
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pigeonmama · 7 months ago
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These. These right here, Your Honour, are some of the finest Nathan Bateman fics in existence
Ex Machina | Nathan Bateman |  Softboywrtiting Masterlist
+ symbol indicates same timeline/world
Hard To Love - 7k
Summary: You’re Nathan’s personal assistant. He’s an insufferable bastard. Both of you have unchecked tension and feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong?
3AM - 1.8k
Summary: A rainstorm in the middle of the night is the perfect time to start confessing feelings and thoughts that have been bottled up for over a year. At least to Nathan it is.
Gravitation - 5k
Summary: Twin Flames; a single soul that is split into two bodies. You and Nathan have a connection like none other. He has an idea why, and you’re about to find out.
Surprise - 1k +
Summary: You’ve got some news for Nathan and now is as good a time as any.
Baby On Board - 1k +
Summary: You’re pregnant and due any day. Nathan is worried.
Yellow - 1k
Summary: Nathan tests a new AI robot. It doesn’t go as planned. 
Valentine - 1k
Summary: Valentine’s Day is approaching and you’d like Nathan to do something for you. Too bad he’s not good at taking hints. Or is he? 
Don’t Go - 5k
Summary: One difficult boss, one contraband cat, and a whole lot of emotional turmoil. That’s your life these days. When you leave for a few months to get things settled back home before moving into the facility officially, Nathan doesn’t cope with your absence well. Upon your return you have to deal with Nathan being moodier than ever, hiding your cat Baxter in your room, and sorting out just what your relationship with Nathan is.
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back - 3.3k
Summary: You and Nathan hit it off at a tech expo. One thing leads to another and the two of you pull a stunt, claiming you’re married. Things get out of hand, and you end up going to stay with Nathan at his home to avoid people trying to harass you about Nathan’s work. The time you spend together will allow for a real relationship to bloom.
Private Room - 2.5k (NSFW)
Summary: You meet Nathan at a company party you’re attending with your best friend. It’s lust at first sight.
Almost Lost You 5.1k 
Summary: It takes Nathan nearly dying to realize he loves you, but he needs to know you feel the same and will take some unnecessary steps to find out instead of just asking you. 
Sunflower - 1.8k
Summary: You’re the opposite of everything Nathan is, and he adores you.
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somedaylazysomeday · 11 months ago
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Winner Take All
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As a PhD student at MIT, you’re under a lot of stress. Bar trivia is your happy place. So when another student starts disrupting your winning streak, the two of you clash. But is antagonism the only thing between you?
Part One - Warnings for mentions of bars and drinking, bad language and worse jokes, general antagonism.
Part Two - Warnings for mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, bad language, references to events at the end of Ex Machina, crassness, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv, creampie.
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Troubleshooting
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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
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“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.” 
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Thank you for reading!
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writefightandflightclub · 10 months ago
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How to bring a God to his knees: Nathan Bateman x fem!reader (smutty blurb)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Nathan in a collar and leash, don’t look at me, okay?! Nathan being a sub etc. etc. oral f!receiving, orgasm denial sorta, consensual domination.
Genre: smut, no plot, SUPER short
Author’s note: what did I just say? Don’t even think about looking at me 🙈😅 (AKA, Apparently this is what happens when I get a blurb request for Nathan smut but no scenario specified!)
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You’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
Nathan “God complex” Bateman himself is on his knees for you, looking like some penitent worshipper. His neck straining against the black leather collar you’ve tightened around it. His raven black beard coated in your pearly juices, and his big, half-lidded eyes begging for more.
“Baby, you good?”
He simply looks up at you dumbly, for once no clever retort or smug smirk able to form on his pussy-plumped lips.
You let your gaze rove over his form. His smooth skin sheened in sweat from hours pleasuring you. Biceps pumped, fists clenching. His cock rock hard and ruddy. His thighs tremoring as they brace him in position.
“Aww. Sweet thing. You a little pussy-drunk?”
“Mmm hmm,” he manages, groaning next as you drag a finger through your slick folds and force the moreish taste of you over his tongue. He sucks away every drop.
“You want some more?”
“P-Please.”
You tug on his leash and he drops obediently to all fours, following you towards the couch. You spread your legs and he eyes your slick heat with a restrained yet consuming hunger, a delicious dark glint in his glazed, sub-drunk eyes.
“Come here, baby,” you purr, cradling his head and running your hand over the bristle of his buzzed hair until you reach the nape of his neck. Then, you grab hold of his collar and shove his warm, eager mouth down on to you.
“Mmm, that’s it, Nate,” you praise as his tongue shimmies meticulously through your folds, his eager undone moans -in contrast- reverberating through your core. “Make me cum again, and if you’re good, I might even let you finish, hmm?”
This is it, you think, as he buries himself in you with even greater vigour, the wet slick of his beard dragging through your folds as he gives everything he has to please you.
This is how you bring a God to his knees; and it feels so good.
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nathanbatemanfucker · 1 year ago
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In Plain Sight
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summary: for someone who’s all about AI, blanks stares and obedient droids, your likeness to them is driving him crazy.
pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader
general contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, illusions to emotionally abusive parents, nathan has low self-esteem and is avoidant af, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, fluff, angst, pining (nathan’s a simping asshole), eventual smut
AN: for the love of god please be nice to me, this is my first (and probably only) time writing for Nathan. i’ve only seen the movie once. tags will get more specific by chapter.
oscar characters masterlist
MAIN STORY (current wc: 20,412)
Docile Pyre
A Hoard of Cupids*
The Tempest
Prenups, Chess & Puppy Dog Eyes*
To Atomize*
THE CONTINUATION (current wc: 4,555)
Family Dinner (3 months post Ch:5)
Tiana (3 months post Family Dinner)
The Indoctrination of Nathan Bateman
Planted*
Little Hamlet*
STOLEN MOMENTS
Memory Lane (1.5 years post Ch:4)
The Move
HEADCANONS
Getting a pet
let me know if you’d like to be tagged (must be 18+)
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angel-of-the-moons · 1 year ago
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A Rose Under The Moon
Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: None really, chit-chat between some gal pals, some implied bi/pan reader.
A/N: Never fear, best gal Layla is here! Also the Hippo-Mama!
And I totes recommend reading the Hobby Headcanons that @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction wrote on the boys! I plan on implementing them all! (Also read all their other things, their Nathan Bateman shit is *insert Paccha meme here*) I need to read up on American football because frankly I have no clue how sports worked since I played soccer and baseball as a kid, before I write about Marc's lest I sound like some plebeian who's guessing everything lmao
Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity
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Chapter 5:
Old Friends
You were minding your own business, cleaning up the mess of tossed books that a couple was oh so kind enough to allow their child to scatter.
You hoped you'd never see them again. While they sat at the nook, sipping coffee and eating the muffins, their child was running around, causing havoc and destroying your beautiful, well-organized shop. Oh, your poor shop…
The couple weren't happy when you charged them for the books their son had ripped up and destroyed beyond salvage, the books he colored in.
Yeah, you really hoped they would never come back.
You looked at your burned hand with a frown. It had been a few days since you hurt yourself, and while painful, the burn wasn't actually that bad. Some aloe, some ice… And it started to clear up after the first day, the blisters receding quickly. You flexed your fingers and tilted your head, curiously wondering if your soulmate could feel the burns, as well. When the thought crossed your mind, you pulled up your sleeve and looked at the mark on your wrist, checking to see which moon would be full today.
The bottom right one. It had been that one a lot, lately.
The bell to the front door dinged, and you straightened up, mentally preparing yourself for the forced smile you were going to have to put on, now.
You cleared your throat and spun around, broom in hand, looking at the woman who just walked in.
She was beautiful. Her tanned skin complimenting her dark eyes and mass of wavy curls. She smiled at you, a bit more genuine.
"Oh! Hello, welcome to Here Today Books." You say politely. "Can I help you?"
"You look like you need it more, sister." She sighed, smiling sympathetically, nodding to the pile of ruined books you now had to put into recycling. Her accent was… it wasn't American, like yours. It sounded similar, but her words had some kind of twinge to them.
"Ah, yeah… a couple and their lovely child were my most recent patrons." You joke dryly.
"Ah, a little tornado, huh?" She snorted, shaking her head.
"Yep. For sure." You sigh, giving her a new, more genuine smile. "Now, were you looking for anything in particular today?"
"Oh, actually, a friend told me about this place, and I was curious." She mused.
That… took you by surprise. People actually talk about your store? Like, as in tell other people about it? This was news, for sure.
"O-oh?" You blink.
"Yeah, he said you made good muffins and tea. I'm more of a coffee fan in the morning, myself, though. Tea is more of a night thing." She chuckled.
You tilt your head at her, gears in your brain whirling.
"Are you friends with Steven Grant, by any chance?" You ask.
She laughs. "Yes! I'm Layla. Layla el Faouly." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and you, without thinking, extend your healing hand.
She shakes it gingerly, her eyes focused on the rosy skin like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"That… looks like it hurt." She said.
"Oh, this? I was just dumb and grabbed a hot pan without thinking." You said, examining your hand casually.
"Oh… Yeah, that's not good for you, y'know?" Layla joked softly.
"Yeah, not the worst pains I've ever had, trust me." You reply. "Now, uh… are you looking for a book? Or after some of the coffee? Or my muffins?"
"Oh! I think I'll just explore a bit, if that's all right with you." Layla said with a nod.
"Oh, I don't mind! If you need anything, just holler!" You wave at her as she disappears into the shelves.
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"You saw it?" Layla muttered softly to herself; or more accurately, to the giant hippo-woman clad in gold and jewels standing next to her, only visible to her eyes.
"Yes, yes I did. Didn't Marc mention that he had phantom pains in that same hand?" Taweret chuckled.
"Yeah. I mean… It could be coincidence, but…"
"You should talk to her. The poor dear looks dreadfully lonely." Taweret sighed, looking even more gargantuan as she peers at the contents of the shelves pressing down around her, her cute little ears flickering back and forth.
She picked up a book on psychology, finding it suddenly terribly interesting, her eyes widening as she scans the pages faster than a human ever could.
"I will. If we're right about our assumption, then, maybe we can… I don't know…"
"Play matchmaker?" Taweret giggles.
Layla softly smiles, not paying attention to the open book in her hands as she chuckles.
"Yeah. We can play matchmaker."
"Oh, let's just see how this plays out first, m'love?" The goddess giggled.
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Layla wanders to the front of the store, two hardback romance novels in her hands and you smile as you restock some old sci-fi novels into your discount rack.
They were the kind of romance novels with the covers reminiscent of oil paintings, the pretty ones. Not the stupid photoshopped ones that are being printed nowadays.
"Find something you like?" You chuckle.
She waves the books with a wide grin, "I've actually been looking for these copies for ages. At one of the places I was working, some jerk stole them from my locker."
"Oh gods, that is horrible!" You gasp. Why would anyone steal books?! At most, those particular novels, even new, only went for a few pounds!
"I know, right! They were autographed and everything!" Layla groaned.
You felt even more offended on her behalf. If those books were autographed and authentic, they would go for actually a decent sum for a collector online...
"That's even worse than just stealing a regular copy!" You clucked.
Layla wiggled the books in her hands. "But, hey! You have hardback copies, and in very good condition. Mine were old, beat up paperbacks!"
"Well, I'm more than happy that you found them!" You grinned widely.
Layla tilted her head to the left slightly, like she had heard something from behind her, and then she looked right at you, eyeing you up and down briefly, as if she were thinking.
You quirked an eyebrow at her in concern.
"Is everything all right?" You ask.
"Hm? Oh! Yes, yes I'm okay! I just have this... thing. The ringing in my ears?" She coughs, abashed.
"Oh! You have tinnitus? I have a booklet or two on medical things that might have something in it for you if you'd like." You chirp helpfully.
Layla put her hand up, chuckling as she declined politely. "Thank you, but no, I'll be okay. It's not constant or anything like that, it's just that I got off a plane the other day and my ears popped and haven't righted themselves yet.."
"Ooooh..." You nod in understanding. "Where'd you fly in from, if you don't mind my asking?"
She smiled. "Cairo."
"That's the accent!" You gasp in realization, pointing at her.
Layla laughed when you blushed and apologized for the outburst.
"It's fine, and yes! How'd you guess?"
"I used to have an exchange student, he would come in here and buy books for his college courses all the time! He was born and raised just outside Cairo." You chuckle.
"Ohh! Interesting." Layla hummed, looking at the books in her hands.
"Hm... you mentioned you had a menu of sorts?"
"Sure!" You lead her over to one of the nooks, and hand her the laminated mini menu you had available.
Her eyebrows raised, impressed at the various items you had available.
"Oh! This is actually nice..."
"Yep! Most of it is made to order by me, so some of it'll take a bit to bake." You grin proudly.
"Oh... well in that case, is it okay if I ask you to keep me some company? If you're not busy? I don't actually have too many friends other than Steven and his... er, brothers and my... uhhh... surrogate mom, so being able to have another woman to chit-chat with would be very welcome..."
To say you were surprised at the offer was an understatement.
"Oh! Uh, sure! I don't... I don't mind!"
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You and Layla clicked very well. You had similar tastes in things like reality TV, romance novels, even skincare routines.
But when she started talking about herself, is when it got interesting. It turns out she had been married to Marc at some point.
She was his ex-wife. The one he told you about.
"I imagine it's kind of awkward for you two, huh?" You remarked.
"Oh, me n Marc? Not at all! We're still good friends, it's just..." Layla set her coffee down, frowning as she tried to think of how to describe it.
"...After a while, whatever we had... like... the spark, I guess? It just... faded. Marc went through a bit of soul searching and after he did that, well..."
They weren't soulmates.
"Ah... I understand." You sighed.
"What about you?" She asked, a small sly smirk playing her lips.
"Oh! Uh... yeah. No. Nothing for me, I'm afraid." You chuckle awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.
"Oh? Nobody special or anything like that? Never kissed someone?"
"Well, I mean, when I was in highschool I kissed a girl on a dare." You sip your own coffee.
"A girl?" Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Yeah, to be honest I'm not sure what kind of preference I have, because I've never really been attracted to anyone before, but it was... weird. Didn't feel like everyone talked it up to be."
"Ah... so... are you waiting for your soulmate, then?" Layla asked a bit tightly.
"Yeah... I know it's stupid, but..." You say, looking down at the mug in your hands.
"Not really. Who doesn't want to meet the one person that is your other half?" She said, smiling softly in sympathy.
Her finger traced the rim of her cup idly, trying to think of the best way to go about phrasing the next question without being obvious about her suspicions.
"Do you... have any ideas of who it might be?" She finally asked.
You shake your head and shrug. "D'nno. I don't know if it's a man or a woman or... well anybody, really. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like once you meet your soulmate because each bond is different so..."
Layla wanted to scream. She wanted to facepalm, she wanted to smack her head on the table. She wanted to splash her coffee into her face.
Taweret was giggling like mad.
"Not as easy as you assumed it was going to be, eh Little One?" The goddess smiled behind her hand at Layla.
Her eyebrow twitched, knowing full well she couldn't retort without looking insane or revealing her position as Taweret's avatar.
You had to be Marc's (and possibly Steven's and Jake's) soulmate. It was all just too coincidental for her liking.
"Oh! That's... well I hope they're close by!" Layla said, forcing a very strained smile.
How could you and Marc be this thick?!
That fact alone had to mean something.
"That's everyone's hope, isn't it?" You chuckled softly, a small fond smile on your face, a glimmer of sadness in your eyes.
Layla felt sympathy for you in the moment, realizing how terribly lonely you must be feeling. And how much pain.
Especially with Marc and the others doing Khonshu's will.
Taweret seemed to pick the thought out of thin air, so in tune with Layla she could tell by the flash in her eyes what she was thinking about.
"Ohhh! That bloody old bone-head!" She huffed, her nostrils flaring as she crossed her arms, her bottom lip poking out from beneath her muzzle.
"He needs to give those poor boys a break! Especially because whatever happens to them, happens to her!" She gestured to you with her big, yet gentle hands.
Layla cleared her throat.
"Well, uh.... since I've told you about me... why don't you tell me about you? Where were you born, stuff like that?" Layla asked you, still smiling.
"Oh! Me? I'm afraid it's not very interesting." You chuckled dryly.
Layla looked outside as the rain came down in sheets. Not very appealing to walk back to the boys' flat in this weather... especially not for her hair.
"It looks like I've got time, love. Go ahead! We can have some more drinks while we chat."
You smiled a bit wider.
It was nice to have a girl-friend to talk with, again.
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When Steven had woken up, Layla was gone, and Marc and Jake left Steven quite alone in the body, letting him front entirely for the day. She'd left a note on Gus and Co's tank saying she went out for a bit for some fresh air.
Which, quite frankly, Marc said was bullshit because of the weather. Layla wouldn't go out in a monsoon and risk her hair becoming an unmanageable spongy mop that would take forever to dry, unless she was going somewhere very specific.
It was one of the things she complained about the most when they were together, something he thought was amusing. He remembered one time they got caught in a rain after their wedding, and at the hotel she was fussing and muttering under her breath as her wet curls hung over her face, desperately trying to get the dripping mass of hair to dry, glaring at herself in the mirror.
Steven sighed, and made his morning cup of tea and went about his routine. He dusted some, and decided to slip on his apron and play with some recipes he'd found online.
The apron was a bit... "dinky" as Marc had called it. Jake apparently ordered it online when he saw the slightly cartoon'd Egyptian motifs on it and left it as a present for Steven, since his favorite thing to do other than read was to cook (and he was a major Egyptophile).
When he was finished, he'd placed the extra portions in a small container in the fridge for Layla when she returned, in case she was hungry.
Then, he sat down, ate, and read a book while he played some music over the cheap sound system Marc installed.
When Layla returned, she was... dry. Remarkably dry. Her hair was still perky and everything!
She apparently bought an umbrella while she was out, placing it in the holder so no excess water dripped on the floor.
"Ah! Hey Steven." She chuckled, walking up and kissing his cheek, knocking his glasses off to the side as she did, placing her bag on the little table nearby.
"How'd you know?" Steven chuckled, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at her.
"Well, aside from the fact you're hunched over like a goblin over a book... the flat smells wonderful. You've obviously been cooking. Not Marc." She grinned.
"Ha!" Steven giggled.
Layla hummed as she set her new purchases on the table, folding the little canvas bag neatly.
Steven's eyebrows shot up when he saw the books.
"Where were you..?" He asked, clearing his throat.
"Oh, y'know... exploring. Went out for a tea..." She grinned at him out of the corner of her still ridiculously beautiful eyes.
"Visited that bookstore you 'n Marc told me about."
Steven fidgeted in his seat.
"O-oh..."
"Mhmm." She tapped her nails on the books' hard covers; she then turned around and crossed her arms, still grinning as she leaned her hips on the table.
"....Why are you looking at me like that? And where did you get that umbrella..?"
"Oh, well..." She shrugged, sighing a bit dramatically, looking elsewhere in the flat for dramatic effect.
She looked back at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Your little girlfriend who owns the bookstore. She really is a sweetheart, she let me borrow it while I'm in town."
"Bloody hell! Layla! It's not like that at all--" Steven sputtered, almost dropping the book in his hand.
She started cackling madly, walking into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.
"Ooh! What'dja make?"
Steven made a noise, burying his face in his hands as he tried to hide the faint blush that crept up his face and set up shop in the tips of his ears, knocking his glasses up to his forehead.
"Bloody hell!" He groaned into his palms.
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Chapter 6: Link
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gingersforeverbox · 1 year ago
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Hi, no one asked for this, but have some Nathan Bateman x Reader headcanons/ drabble ideas
A/n: Howdy, I know it's been a hot minute since I posted something of my own, but I've been a simp for this stupid-genius bastard for a while now, and here is just a dump of the thoughts that are bouncing around in my head about Bitchman himself :)
Fem!Reader x Nathan Bateman btw
Content warnings: Nathan for obvious canonical reasons, the good kush🍃, swearing (probably), suggestive material that is +18 (If I find a minor on my lawn I swear to all that's good that I will tell your parents/guardians that you're being inconsiderate of boundaries Ya lil gremlins), that's all I can think of for now, but let me know if I missed anything! <3
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Pretty little homemaker Reader? Yeah. Pretty little homemaker Reader who got to happily retire once they married Nathan and be a domestic, feminine person without care? Even better!
Pregnant Reader where we learn about what it’s like to be expecting with him (spoiler: he is a pain in the ass up until you have to snap at him to be considerate to the person who will give him his child, then he surprisingly gets his head out of his ass to try and be better for you and y'all's child).
Reader and Nate have to go to a gala or some shit for the first time as an official couple then there’s a bunch of questions from the press and coworkers about y'all being together, and he is basically like "Honey, I own the planet, whatever you don't want public won't be public. it's that simple, now let me show you this ice sculpture that looks like a dick if you look at it right >:)"
Stoned Nathan and Reader. She does it for fun, he insists that he’s gonna be chill, but he is such a fuckin nerd that he babbles about how scientifically interesting weed is while Reader is just like “M’kay babe, keep talkin’, you’re cute like this iloveyou” and Nathan kinda just buffers for a minute before then is high as a kite when he realizes "oh fuck this woman makes me feel things and I'm too high to try and hide it iloveyoutoo"
Nathan getting genuinely confused when Reader treats Kyoko with basic dignity despite her being an AI, and Reader basically being horrified with how he treats her and actively goes out of her way to be nice to Kyoko. Does Nathan learn to be nicer to his AI? Does he still treat them like shit and it bites him in the ass? YOU DECIDE!
Bossy!Reader who is one of BlueBook's communications experts, and he can't wrap his head around the idea of Reader, the same lady who doesn't hesitate to call one of his ideas bad-shit crazy, being the same lady who easily schmooses his business partners for him until he sees her in action at a conference they both have to attend. Nathan then realizing that he likes his organic women to be a lil fiesty.
*forewarning that this one is a little self-indulgent:* Nathan and a Psychologist reader? I would pay Money to watch those two bicker about everything. like come on, Nathan's fuckin' nuts and Reader deals with emotionally/ mentally troubled people for a living. Just imagine BlueBook deciding to assign him a psychologist since he lives in the middle of nowhere all the time, and Reader taking one look at him and being like "Oh, he's not just a narcissistic rich man, he's a narcissistic rich man with a literal god complex.... interesting :)))" then proceeding to actually help him regardless. Bbgorl wouldn't know what hit him.
That's all for now folks, as you were 😊
....psst, hey, if anyone is interested in reading something with any of these ideas I would happily see what I can do to make a lil somethin'-somethin'. Also, if you wanna take a stab at writing any of these, all I ask is that you tag me so I can get some credit and so I can see y'all's awesome work <3
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leoluved · 1 year ago
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𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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sugar daddy!nathan bateman x fem!reader summary: after dumping your cheating ex boyfriend, you move into a shitty apartment complex. only to find out your next door neighbor is none other than upcoming tech mogul & billionaire, nathan bateman. while he does nothing but belittle you, you find yourself yearning for something more than neighborly company. series warnings: eighteen+, tbh slow burn, eventual smut, each chapter will go into detail on its own warnings, smoking, drinking, mentions of infidelity, nathan's in his early twenties so, he's gonna be a judgmental piece of shit. the usual. author's note: y'all im ready nervous! this is my first series so.. no shittin on me ok? idek what this is supposed to be.. i just kind of wanted more sugar daddy nathan bateman lmfaoo
if these walls could talk / chapter one
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starryevermore · 3 years ago
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the best for you ✧ marc spector & nathan bateman
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: Heyyy. In "best for him" could you do another part or a little drabble (no pressure obviously) like they met again somehow maybe reader was in danger or maybe Marc and Layla were walking together and somehow they make eye contact, just a fleeting moment between them or Marc/reader has been miserable and the other person got over the heartbreak. It’s totally up to you thank youu - anon
pairing: marc spector x fem!reader; nathan bateman x fem!reader; marc spector x layla el-faouly
summary: things have changed, and now you’ve moved on. it’s for the best. 
word count: 1,764
warnings?: a lil angsty, not proofread
THE BEST FOR HIM (PART 1)
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Layla had asked to go to the beach. They had been working together for quite some time, a romance quickly blossoming between the two of them. Marc tried to not let the guilt eat at him. But it had just sort of happened. He never planned for it to. He never wanted to be with anyone else besides you. But she was there, and she was kind. She cared about him. It wasn’t the same as being with you, it was different. Not better, not worse. Just different. And Marc didn’t want to make the same mistakes with Layla as he had done with you. He couldn’t handle losing another love. So, if Layla wanted to go to the beach, he would make it happen. 
They were walking down the water, hands joined together, both carrying their shoes in their free hand. Layla had said something about it being nice to feel the sand between her toes, the waves tickling at their ankles as the water came in and went out. Marc didn’t care, but he wanted to make her happy. 
He hadn’t made you happy. He had hurt you. And he had lost you. 
“I’m glad we took this break,” Layla said, leaning her head against Marc’s arm. “You’re always so tense nowadays. It’s nice to see you relaxed.”
“Me too,” Marc said. 
“Still a man of many words,” she teased, bumping her hip with his. “So, I was thinking, after we get done here, we go down to this bookshop close by? It’s supposed to have some really hard to find books that I’ve been looking for.”
“Sure. Sounds fun.”
Just as Layla was about to say something else, Marc stopped dead in his tracks. Oh, he wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting this at all. 
“What’s wrong?” Layla asked. 
Marc looked away, trying to pretend he didn’t see what he saw. But, he did. And he couldn’t ignore it. “Do you remember the girlfriend I had before you? Y/N?”
“Yeah, why?” Layla paused, realizing what had spooked him. “She’s here. Isn’t she?”
“Over under the big yellow umbrella, in the pink bathing suit,” Marc said. “I-I never thought I would see her again. I hope she’s okay. Happy.”
Layla searched his eyes, trying to find something. Then, she said, “You can go talk to her if you want. If it will bring you peace of mind. I know how much you love her still, even if you pretend like you don’t think about her.”
“Layla—”
“It’s okay. She was your first love. She was there for you for so much. And with how things ended, I understand why you still care for her.” She nudged him in your direction. “Go ahead. I’m going to look for some sea shells, okay? Come find me when you’re done.”
Layla let go of his hand, walking off to find some sea shells, leaving Marc alone to sort out what he wanted to do. What he wanted to say, if he said anything at all. He wanted to run away, to leave and forget that he saw you. But…He couldn’t let this opportunity pass itself by. He didn’t know if he would ever get the opportunity to see you again. 
So, he swallowed his doubts and walked up to you. 
You were reading a book, some sort of romance novel if he had to guess based off the cover. You almost didn’t notice him, until his body cast a shadow down on you. You looked up from the look, lifting your sunglasses from being perched on your nose to resting on top of your head. An eyebrow quirked. Your eyes looked him up and down. “Well,” you said, “never thought I’d see you again.”
He tried to ignore the near-venom in your voice. You used to always speak so sweetly to him. But those days were long gone. “I’m here with Layla,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he lead with that. “Um, and I saw you, and I just wanted to say hi.”
“Well, are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Going to say hi. Because I’m really interested in my book, and I would like to get back to that. So, please, say your hi and then go on your merry little way.”
Ouch. That…That really hurt. That you would treat him with such hostility. He deserved it, definitely. He’d broken your heart. He didn’t deserve kindness, not from you. But…To be here, to hear you, to see how you looked at him, it felt like his heart was breaking all over again. 
“Hi,” he said. He cleared his throat, looking away. “I…I also wanted to see if you were okay. I-I know we didn’t end things under the best conditions and—”
Your eyes zeroed in on the gold band on his finger. “You got married?”
Marc swallowed hard. Shit. He forgot about the ring. “Uh, yeah. It wasn’t really planned. Just sorta happened.”
“Musta been quite the gal to convince you to settle down.”
Marc looked away. The guilt ate away at him, burrowing deep into his chest. When the two of you were together, Marc had been insistent that he would never marry. Didn’t see the point in it, he said. What was marriage but a piece of paper and some tax benefits? His love for you should’ve been enough. Early in the relationship, you had tried to persuade him otherwise, tell him all of the things that were great about being married. But he didn’t want to hear them. His mind was made up. So, he didn’t listen. 
And, really, truly, he hadn’t planned on marrying Layla. But he almost died—again. And Layla had been so distraught, nursing him back to health. When he regained his health, he decided he couldn’t just keep skirting around their relationship. At that point, they were a sort of friends with benefits. But now, she had been there for him, taken care of him—he wanted to marry her. 
So he did. And he didn’t think about how unfair that was to you until you were confronting him over it. 
“Yeah, uh, Layla’s great.”
“Layla? The one you were working with?” You hummed when he nodded. “She’s quite the lucky gal. Hope she knows that.”
“I’m the lucky one. To, to find love again after…I don’t deserve her. I didn’t deserve you, either.”
“No, you didn’t.” You set your book down after placing a bookmark in it. As you laid the book beside you, he, too, caught the glint of a gold band, coupled with a glittering diamond ring. “Though, I suppose I should thank you. I never would have met my husband if we hadn’t broken up.”
“Your husband.”
“Some men actually want to marry me. We’re actually on our honeymoon.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to marry you, I just—”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Marc looked behind you as a man approached the two of you. He stood just an inch, maybe two, shorter than Marc. He had a shaved head, a full beard, and nerdy-looking glasses…And he was Nathan fucking Bateman, the CEO of Blue Book. 
“Hi, honey,” you said, smiling at Nathan as he handed you a margarita. Nathan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, but kept his eyes on Marc. “Marc was just about to leave.”
“Marc,” Nathan repeated. 
“Mhm. He’s here with his wife. Just wanted to stop and say hello. Now he’s leaving.” You looked back at Marc, raising a brow, as if you were daring him to challenge you. 
“You married a fucking CEO?” Marc asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around this. He had always figured you would move on but…Marrying a billionaire was far from the life he thought you would have.  
“Like I said, some men actually want to marry me. And some men don’t know what they had until it’s gone.”
“Y/N—”
“She won’t outright say it, but I will,” Nathan interrupted. “Leave us, leave her, alone. We’re on our fucking honeymoon, and we don’t need you ruining our trip. Alright? So run back to your wife. We’re done here.”
Marc looked back at Layla, who was examining a scallop shell that she had found. He should be happy with her. He really should. But when he looked back at you, all he could think of was everything that he had missed out on. But you weren’t his anymore, and he would never get to experience life with you again. So, he swallowed what was left of his pride and said, “Don’t break her heart like I did.”
“You’re not exactly in the best position to be giving relationship advice, are you?” Natan said. 
“Can you just promise me you won’t hurt her? Just give me that, and I’ll be out of her life for good.”
“I promise. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Marc spared one more glance to you, muttering another “I’m so sorry”, before turning and rejoining Layla. 
Layla smiled when she saw him, lifting her hand to show off the sea shells she had found. 
“Those look great,” Marc said. “Great finds.”
“Thank you. You were over there a while,” Layla said. “Everything okay?”
Marc tried to not let the tears prick at his eyes, but it amounted to nothing. They were still there, threatening to spill over. “She moved on. Got married. Couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“Was she happy?”
Marc nodded. “I think so. Until I showed up, I guess. She, uh, found out we were married, and I think I hurt her all over again. I-I always told her I wasn’t the marrying type, so I guess she thinks I never wanted to marry her.” He shook his head, trying to forget about it all. “Her, uh, husband seems to be good for her, though. Seems to love her, makes her happy. Which is all I can ask for her. I only want the best for her.”
“I’m sure she knows that,” Layla said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Marc took Layla’s hand again, letting her lead him off the beach, passing you by again as they left. You didn’t even lift your head as he walked by, instead laughing at something Nathan was saying. He couldn’t remember the last time you looked so carefree, so happy. And it hurt that he wasn’t the person making you so happy. 
But he wasn’t the best for you. Not anymore. 
And he now had to live with that. 
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somedaylazysomeday · 11 months ago
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Winner Take All - Part Four
With the Estuary on the line, you and Nathan fight to win your bet.
Nathan Bateman x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI
Word Count: 3,500
Warnings: teasing, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, makeout session, sex as terms of a bet, unprotected sex, anal fingering, creampie
Previous | Masterlist
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When you had stripped down to your underwear, you turned away from Nathan. It was partially to give yourself a moment and partially to spite his intense gaze. A strategic step toward the couch to set your clothes down in a stack got you out of arm’s reach and you took a deep breath as you reached up to unfasten your bra. 
“So, who goes first?” you asked, slipping your underwear off. There was no answer as you placed it and your bra with the rest of your clothing. You turned, impatient, and sucked in a breath when you found Nathan standing just behind you. 
“Me.” 
That single word and the sound of a hand slapping onto a chess clock were the only warnings you had. Nathan pushed you backward, letting you fall heavily onto the couch behind you as you gave an indignant huff. 
Nathan was a man on a mission. Instead of taking any time with niceties, he muscled his way toward your core, forcing your legs wide around the breadth of his shoulders. He spread your folds with careful fingers, clearing the way for his lips and tongue. 
The urgency of his mouth on you was second only to the desperate grip of your fingers on his scalp. You were clinging to him, and if your hold on his head forced him tighter against you, at least you could claim it hadn’t been on purpose. 
There was so much to capture your attention: the rasp of his beard against the tender skin of your inner thighs, the oddly soothing rhythm of his hands rubbing gently at your folds, the way his eyes glinted up at you from behind his glasses… And, of course, the firm seal of his mouth against the most sensitive, nerve-dense part of your body. 
He had to have rigged the timer. It wasn’t possible that less than two minutes had passed. Nathan had always been good at oral, especially with the enthusiasm he gave it - but this was ridiculous. You weren’t in danger of coming yet, but you could already feel the pleasure starting to coalesce into something more solid.
The chime of the chess clock broke through the building pleasure, and you relaxed against the couch. Nathan used his discarded tee shirt to wipe his mouth. “I didn’t build a cooldown into our time.” 
“Of course not,” you agreed. “That would undermine the point.” 
He grinned, his teeth dramatically white against the darkness of his beard. “Forgot how quick you are to pick up on subtext, sweetheart.” 
“You may get off on the patronizing bullshit, Bateman, but I don’t,” you told him. “All you’re doing is making your own life more difficult. Sit down and I’ll get started.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nathan agreed, sauntering past with a sway in his hips. 
You reached behind yourself, slapping blindly at the chess clock to restart your time. As soon as you did, it was with great pleasure that you hooked your hands behind Nathan’s knees, taking them out from under him and leaving him falling hard onto the couch. 
Still bouncing, he gave you a look. “I see you’ve stolen my starting move. Good choice, emulating the professionals-”
Nathan’s stupid little attempt to get under your skin cut off with a little choke as you took as much of his shaft in your mouth as possible. You held him there, breathing through your nose and sinking as low as your relaxing gag reflex would allow. He was hardening against your tongue, and you swore you could feel him start to throb. 
You hummed, nothing more than a monotone vibration, but Nathan jerked and hissed a curse at the feeling. He was less enthused when you pulled away from him. “You’re never gonna win this if-” 
Ignoring his warning ended up working in everyone’s favor, especially when you only moved back far enough to blow a slow breath over his glistening length. He cursed again, louder than before. You wrapped your hand around him, using your loose fist to leisurely stroke him up and down.
You had only just started to bring your mouth into the mix - licking at his head every time it emerged from the clasp of your fingers - when the chess clock went off. Nathan let out a shuddering breath, and you liked to think you heard relief in it. You weren’t the only one getting keyed up with this little game. 
In a moment, you were back on the couch and the sound of the chess clock being reset rang through the room. This time, Nathan was directing his attention to other places. He mouthed gentle, wet kisses down your torso, working lower but never quite down to where you wanted him most. His hand wandered your most sensitive places - the curve of your ribcage as it tapered down to your waist, the delicate skin under your breasts, the place where your mound met your hip. 
It was very tame compared to how he had spent his last turn, but Nathan made up for it with the way his hands were playing between your legs. His fingers pressed in and out of you, slow but inexorable, and his thumb worked insistently against your clit. His tongue flicked against the swell of your lower belly, the wet heat of it pushing you several surprising steps closer to the edge. Nathan gave a low hum that rumbled pleasantly against your sparking nerve endings and you echoed the sound from over his head. 
The buzz of the chess clock came to you as if from a very long distance and it took a moment before you remembered what it meant. You pushed Nathan’s head and hands away, the motions slow as molasses. 
Nathan stood, pouting slightly. “Almost had you.” 
“You wish, Bateman,” you refuted. But there was no real antagonism in it, because you were focused on him. He was standing just in front of you, looking uncomfortably hard. 
One of Nathan’s hands entered your line of sight, sliding to frame his cock. You glanced up to find him smirking at you. “Distracted, sweetheart?” 
“Not at all,” you told him, lifting your chin. It didn’t hurt that the motion put you closer to him. “Just thinking of how I could help you out.” 
You reached behind him to reset the clock, blowing out a long sigh that teased along his length. Nathan played it as cool as he could, but you could see the way his thighs tensed at your proximity. He clearly expected you to do something dramatic.
And he was right. 
You sat forward on the couch, swallowing down as much of him as you could manage. With a few bobs of your head and an extra few swallows to get used to having something partially down your throat, your lips brushed against the very base of him. Your gag reflex was barely managing not to kick in, and you were briefly, silently grateful for all of the time you had spent doing this when you were hooking up on a regular basis. 
Nathan’s whole body was tense now, entirely on-edge as he balanced on what little control he still had. There were several things he enjoyed in bed, but this was a particular weakness of his. Deep-throating was his most common fantasy, but high on the list was the idea of fucking your mouth. You didn’t let him do it very often, and you had never been the instigator. 
It probably wasn’t the best sign of your character that this was when you finally welcomed him to take part in a cherished fantasy, but you pushed that thought away. You would need all of your concentration for the next part of things. 
Your fingers teased slowly around where they had been locked on the front of his thighs, working until you could grab handfuls of his round ass and pull him in. You increased the suction of your mouth at the same time, sucking greedily as he gave in and thrust into your mouth. 
The loss of control was exactly as you had remembered it, but after you got past the need to be in charge, it wasn’t as bad as you had expected. Nathan hadn’t needed any encouragement after that first thrust, and he eagerly began pumping himself into your mouth. His hands were holding you in place - one locked around your jaw while the other cradled the back of your skull to keep you where he needed you. 
You tried to participate at first, to lick and suck and stroke where you could, but Nathan’s motions were too frenetic for you to keep pace. Instead, you let him use you. Your jaw and throat were relaxed, drool dripping from your lips as your gag reflex scarcely held off. Your hands stayed on his ass, but only so you could track the pace of his thrusting. 
Nathan’s breathing was growing harsh above you, almost frantic. His hands squeezed almost to the point of pain as he pushed himself faster and faster into your mouth. He had to be getting toward the breaking point.
Your eyes were closed and you weren’t entirely sure when you’d closed them. When you managed to open them, your gaze naturally tracked to the man standing over you. Nathan was staring down at you and, when he saw you looking back up at him, he clenched his teeth so hard that a muscle in his jaw visibly twitched.
“I’m…”
The ringing of the chess clock interrupted him and you both let out a heartfelt curse. Yours was garbled by the cock in your mouth, but Nathan soon solved that problem. He tore himself free of you, hunched protectively over his red, throbbing length. Even with the wetness you’d left on him, you could see the precum beading on his tip, and you knew he had been close. Painfully so, it would seem. 
“You didn’t build a cooldown into our time,” you reminded him. 
“Shut up,” Nathan ordered, slapping his palm against the chess clock so hard that it sounded as if it would break. 
He leaned down to kiss you and your lips were already parted with surprise. It was sweet, you reflected, that after everything you had done up to that point, he still wanted to kiss you. 
And then Nathan urged you backward until you were lying flat on the couch with the weight of him pressing heavily on top of you. The next instant, his tongue was invading your mouth and he pressed his hardness between your thighs. He wasn’t trying for a kiss, he was aiming for a full-on makeout session. 
You almost had to give him credit: there weren’t many people who would kiss quite so deeply considering how you had been trying to win your competition. You weren’t immune to that, either, but the traces of yourself that you could detect in his mouth lingered with the taste of him. You found the combination oddly compelling. 
Nathan began to move on top of you. He didn’t breach your body with his, but he had pushed himself upward until the entirety of his length was lined up with the seam of your core. Pressed as tightly as he was, you could feel every bump and swell of him against you. 
And then he began to thrust. 
He didn’t seem to be fully in control of himself. The motions were jerky and rushed, Nathan rutting against you like it was all he could do to keep from spearing himself inside of you as deep as he could get. You weren’t helping things, either. Your hips lifted automatically, pressing your weeping core against him until the friction turned to something sharp and maddening. 
The grimace on his face was harsh, but it broke into a vicious smile as the head of his cock caught at the swollen nub of your clit. The way your breath caught told him everything he needed to know. Nathan lowered his head to capture your lips once more as he zeroed in on that spot and pulsed his hips there. 
You were suddenly rushing, soaring toward the edge and there was nothing you could do to stop the intensity of your reaction to him. You dug your fingernails into the muscles of Nathan’s back, but he just nipped at your bottom lip and kept going. 
The clock chimed and Nathan’s groan almost drowned out your victorious laugh. Both noises sounded noticeably shaky. 
Your hand slapped the chess clock, and you made a mental note to check later whether it had been damaged during all of this. But first, you had a competition to win and a decently strong idea on how you were going to pull it off. 
It was tricky to reposition yourselves on the couch without falling off, but you managed, maneuvering Nathan until he was lying flat beneath you. You paused for a moment to admire him - all tensed muscles under a sheen of sweat, bright eyes and teeth partially hidden by glinting glasses and a dark beard - but you were ever-conscious of the fact that you only had two minutes. 
Nathan was hard enough that you were vaguely nervous about hurting him as you positioned his length beneath you. But the noise he made when you took him in your hand was anything but pained. And when you sank down onto him, both of you let out matching groans. His was harsher while yours verged on breathless, but you both seemed a little dazed when you were finally sitting fully on him.
But there was no time to soak in the sensations. You planted your hands on his chest and took up a frantic rhythm, jolting up and over him before pushing back with all of your strength to spear him fully into yourself. The thickness of him was startling, driving the air from your lungs with the intensity of taking him in this position. 
Nathan didn’t move overly much to help you. You hadn’t expected him to, since that would be urging himself toward losing the competition, but you got the feeling it didn’t stem from a place of petty refusal. No, when you stared down at him, framed by the dark material of his couch, Nathan was staring up at you with something akin to worship in his expression. That was almost enough to make you falter. 
When the clock sounded again, Nathan didn’t even break eye contact. He reached over, reset it, and urged you on. It was your turn, and both of you were inconveniently close to orgasm. As he leaned up to kiss you once more, you smiled against his lips. You had always excelled at running out a clock. 
You didn’t stop moving altogether. It was partially to keep Nathan from rebelling entirely, but also because stopping sounded akin to death. But you did slow significantly, rocking your hips at a more leisurely pace until each stroke seemed to last an eternity.
Nathan only let that continue for so long. His hands wrapped around your hips, trying to push you back toward your previous pace. When you didn’t let that happen, he settled for holding you still while he furiously canted his hips up into you. The noise you made didn’t sound entirely human. 
“Bateman,” you groaned, trying to sound irritated. You only managed to sound pouting and desperate. “I’m on top. That means I’m in charge.” 
“Oh, does it?” Nathan asked. The glimmer in his eyes was the only warning you got before he clamped your hips against his and flipped you both around. When you were lying safely on the couch once more, Nathan was looming over you, looking greedy and triumphant. He gave an experimental stroke of his length in and out of your heat, clearly pleased with himself. “I like this rule.”
He set a jolting, bouncing pace, and it was all you could do to keep from crying out with the intensity of it. You fought every instinct you had, commanding your body to keep completely still under him to avoid pushing yourself closer to the edge. You were only moderately successful, and much less so as Nathan reached down to toy with your clit. 
“Nathan!” you chided, reaching down to grab his hand. “Stop!” 
He simply laughed, lacing your fingers together and using the combined digits to tease at your most sensitive place. 
When the clock sounded again, your thighs were trembling with the effort it took not to come around him. Nathan cursed, and you noted that his eyes were far too bright, sweat rolling down his face with how hard he was fighting to keep it together. 
You reset the clock, jaw firming with determination. If Nathan wasn’t going to take it easy on you, you weren’t going to do the same for him. And in your time together, he had shared something that he wanted very badly to try…
Nathan didn’t move to get off of you or roll over so that you were on top once more. You knew he wasn’t trying to be helpful, but that suited your plan just fine. 
He picked up his pace again, thrusting determinedly against him. You let your hands slip from his shoulders down his back, trailing further and further down until they were moving between his legs. 
Nathan’s rhythm faltered when he felt your fingertips brush against his perineum, but he valiantly kept focused on his own movements. You were unbothered by his lack of response, reaching to gather some of the wetness that had leaked from where you were joined before traveling up and back along his cheeks. 
It was tricky, trying to slip even one finger between the rounded globes of his ass. They squeezed together every time he thrust into you, and you would be lying if you said the motion wasn’t distracting… on multiple levels. 
But you wrangled your concentration, figured out the timing, and pressed your slick fingers between his taut cheeks. You didn’t try to breach the pursed ring of muscle you found there - after all, you hadn’t discussed it, and that wasn’t fair - but you pressed enough that he knew you were there. 
Nathan started to breathe fast and faster, eventually letting out a hoarse shout as he thrust into you as far as he could get. You could feel the twitch of his cock inside of you, painting your inner walls with proof that you had won. 
With your victory certain, your free hand slipped down between you and rubbed furiously at your clit. Only seconds passed before you followed Nathan, your entire body clenching and rippling with the force of your long-awaited orgasm. Even as your vision turned to stars, you were struck by the way every other sense was dominated by Nathan. 
At last you were slack and sated, Nathan lying heavy on top of you. Dimly, you recognized that the chess clock had rang a final time, but neither of you reached to reset it. There was no need. 
“Wanna buy the Estuary?” Nathan asked eventually. He lifted his head, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The frame of his glasses had been biting into your breast. “I think you’ve earned it.”
“Offer it back to Mira and Noor,” you countered. “If they refuse, we’ll talk.”
He hummed an agreement, settling against you once more. This time, he turned his head to watch you, helpfully keeping his glasses from digging into your tender skin. When he spoke again, Nathan’s voice was quiet, thoughtful: “Too bad. I wanted to know what happened with us. Sure you don’t wanna tell me anyway?” 
You huffed a laugh, looking down at him with fondness. Nathan Bateman was nothing if not persistent. 
That was when a realization struck: you were never going to change him. There was no point in trying to talk him out of it if he wanted to get back into working with artificial intelligence. You had known that from the start, of course, but you abruptly realized that you didn’t want to miss out on knowing him. 
You shook your head, swallowing against the lump that had suddenly appeared in your throat. “It actually doesn’t matter. I’ll be around more, as long as you still want me to be.” 
Nathan watched you suspiciously, his sharp gaze missing nothing. But he nodded anyway. “It’ll be good to have someone who knows enough to be impressed at my genius. I’m wasted on most people.”
“Just because they don’t like you doesn’t mean they don’t understand you,” you corrected. Nathan frowned, ticking his fingers against your bare torso. You made an outraged sound and pushed at him as he started to laugh. Despite yourself, you smiled at his antics. 
Maybe there was nothing you could do to change Nathan Bateman, but that was probably a good thing. It was enough just to be with him. If and when a time came that you had to say goodbye to Nathan, you would do so knowing that you had grabbed every moment together that you possibly could.
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Author's Note - I'm not sure whether I'll continue with these two since this is my last Fanfic February. But they were a lot of fun, so nothing is certain!
Thank you for reading!
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Note
Hear me out…. Nathan taking care of his girl when she’s going through sub-drop after an intense session
I am hearing you <3 (Also sorry this took forever!)
Sub Drop
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Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •
Warnings: swearing, Nathan being a softie, Nathan picking up reader (he doesn't care what size you are, it's HAPPENING.), typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 501
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While I fully believe that Nathan has read every single book on BDSM and knows exactly what to do when someone experiences a sub drop, I also believe that the second it happens all his knowledge goes out the window. 
Just for a minute. 
He’s so used to fucking robots that interacting with a real person who does things outside of his control (or ability to press the off switch) makes his brain go errrrrrmmmmmmmmm…
He then gets annoyed with himself for A) forgetting knowledge and B) not being helpful when you’re going through something because no matter what he pretends, he cares about you and the idea of you going through a bad time (a real bad time not a sexy-oh-no-but-not-really bad time) makes him feel helpless. 
And he does not like feeling helpless. 
Asks if he can touch you, hold you, stroke your back and press little kisses to your cheeks and neck. 
He wraps you in the softest blanket he has and refuses to do anything without you. It’s like working on a computer problem for him, he can’t stop trying to ‘fix’ it, make you feel better.
If he’s coding/working you’re on his lap, holding you against his chest while he types. 
If he’s working out, then it’s New Work Out Time, which includes carrying you around the house. It doesn’t matter what size/shape you are, he’s carrying you. Deal with it. He needs to get his reps in. No, he isn’t putting you down. No, you have no choice in this. 
If he’s cooking (for both of you) he’ll put a chair in the kitchen close to where he’s working so he can kiss your forehead every minute. 
Asks you what you want. A favourite food/drink? He’s making it for you now. A bath/shower? He’s in there with you. Cuddles? It’s already happening. Watch something? TV’s already on. Just talk? Would you like to hear about 17th century sword making processes? Don’t worry about why he’s been researching that right now.
Reassures you however he can. Despite how he likes to come across, he’s a big softie. He does not like seeing you in pain or distress. He will word vomit about how much he cares about you. (He will be a big grump if you bring this up when you feel better.)
He doesn’t like if you have a sub drop because he feels like it’s a bad reflection on him. He doesn’t blame you for it at all, just himself. Thinks he should have done things differently, taken better care, been better for you. He’s misjudged the system, made you feel bad. He has to fix this. 
When you’re better, you end up having to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. (Which he doesn’t like, because he doens’t want to make you feel like he’s putting things on you.) 
He’ll ask if you want a massage, which he has to stop after 2 minutes because he has a boner. 
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writefightandflightclub · 11 months ago
Text
Sugar
Grad student!Nathan Bateman x older!fem!reader
Author’s note: I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS CONCEPT TBH BUT DON’T WANT TO GIVE SPOILERS SO WARNINGS ARE NON-EXHAUSTIVE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK I GUESS? (As ever, minors DNI, thank you!) And I blame Oscar at MEFCC in the black polo and @nowritingonthewall’s hc of young!Nathan sneaking into tech conferences for this one. (I’m imagining him as getting towards his mid twenties here.)
Word count: just a short one!
Warnings: power / wealth imbalance, and slight warning for dub-con due to this. Sexual touching (slightly public). Infidelity. Alcohol consumption (reader). As mentioned above, warnings are non-exhaustive this time to avoid spoilers. If you do need further info, however, you are welcome to DM or send an ask.
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“Not touching the oysters?” Nathan asks in as suave a tone as he can muster. The only oyster he’s personally sampled, so far, is the oyster sauce at his favourite downtown take-out.
Your plate of extravagant buffet food is discarded next to you, however, as you pore over a stack of documents at the hotel bar, a martini in a tall, flared glass languishing in your free hand.
You whip your head towards Nathan and look him up and down; as though deciding whether he’s worth the time of day, or whether you should immediately summon security to remove him from your field of vision. You seem to find him relatively inoffensive, at least, and grant him permission to remain in your orbit; for now. You hum contemplatively. “Decided I’ve had my fill of vile sensations for today,” you announce in a cool, assured tone. “I had to fuck my husband this morning. Twice.”
Nathan emits a low whistle. As much as he tries to take it in his stride - to act like he’s accustomed to affluent, worldly, cut-throat women like you - he isn’t. Honestly, he’s barely accustomed to anyone at all lately, since he’s immersed himself entirely in getting his start-up off the ground.
You’re older. Older than him, at least. Older than any woman he’s been with so far, he can’t help but think. That, along with your candidness, is refreshing. You’re not all giggly and earnest and chaotic like the young women he’s met around campus - which sounds far less exhausting to him, if he’s honest.
He looks you up and down in return. And, yeah. Shit. He definitely wants to fuck you.
“He doesn’t get you off?” Nathan asks, crude and casual, as though he has any business asking. However, he’s found that a complete disregard for social norms can -oddly- sometimes pan out in his favour. Sometimes. Besides, on this occasion he has to risk it, or social norms would dictate that he shouldn’t approach you at all. At least not before he’s in possession of an invitation-only credit card, or, has made a hard-to-come by appointment via your PA at the very least.
You take a sip of your drink and eye him over the brim. He likes that move. Your eyes are full of deliciously dark amusement as you appraise him. He thinks you may even like what you see. Might even find him refreshing too. “Well. It’s not love - or anything else so impractical. It’s strictly a business arrangement,” you explain, as though you have been waiting for an opportunity to vent and no-one has actually bothered to ask you. “He pays for my lifestyle and I put out. And occassionally have to, you know, run his fucking company, attend boring conferences to schmooze his investors, and generally mask his total ineptitude.” You gesture around you vaguely. From the tiredness in your tone, it makes sense that you’re hiding out in this deserted hotel bar, Nathan thinks.
He knows fine well who your husband is too. A guy many, many years your senior. Obscenely rich fucker too. CEO and founder of a huge ass telecoms company, recently diversified into various markets across the tech world. The company is running an agressive acquisition policy, buying out start-ups and hoping to find something that sticks. The “next big thing”. It hasn’t succeeded yet. Projections look mediocre at best.
Nathan, who very much considers his innovation the “next big thing” - the only game in town - had tried to corner your husband at the end of his rather lacklustre panel. After all, he’d done his research. Had identified the highest value targets he could network with in attempts to drum up some investment. He is trying to bolster his sorely under-funded start-up… which, if he is honest, has barely even “started” at all. He knows the tech. The code. He’s a certified genius, for God’s sake. He was just a fool for thinking that that alone would be enough. Frustratingly for him, it’s the schmoozing and understanding of the cold realities of the business world he struggles with. He seems to rub people up the wrong way, for some reason. Probably because they’re all assholes. Or, maybe, because they view him as too young or too rough around the edges to know what he’s talking about. Or, most likely, because they’re uninspired bastards incapable of comprehending his world-changing vision. Maybe all of the above.
So much then, for the supposed merits of the free market and the idea that the best ideas will prosper. His idea is the best, and he’s floundering simply because his daddy can’t buy him his way in. Instead of a reliance on the strength of the product, networks and power and money and nepotism appear to be king in this world. And, Nathan possesses none of these advantages. Even with the buzz around him at his faculty, and his full ride scholarship at 17 for being a fucking genius.
Anyway, after a failed attempt to schmooze your asshole husband, Nathan had quickly put together that the guy didn’t have a goddamn clue. That you were the brains (and beauty, by the way) behind the operation, and he was likely little more than the funds.
Also, the guy definitely didn’t seem like he’d be a pleasant fuck, by any stretch.
He grimaces somewhat at the thought.
“That’s what they say isn’t it?” You take a breezy sip of your drink. “Fake it until you make it? They’re talking about orgasms, sweetheart, and my last performance paid for these shoes.” You kick out your appealing leg, your shins bare and smooth beneath your pencil skirt, and you briefly show off your shiny, black, red-soled heels.
They’re nice. Sexy, on you.
Nathan briefly wonders why you’re being so forthcoming with him, a complete stranger; but you don’t strike him as someone who gives a shit in the slightest what other people think. You also strike him as someone who can make people think whatever you want them to think. One day, he hopes to have as much power over a room as you do - and that’s for starters.
He slips into the bar stool beside you then, uninvited, and you scoff. “Are you even old enough to drink, baby face?”
He bristles at that, thick brows pinching and nods slowly, peeking at you from over the brim of his glasses, his own eyes now dancing with a subtle, dark amusement.
You’ve already turned away though. It frustrates him that he can’t entirely hold your attention.
“Nathan Bateman. Student, MIT.” You gesture to his name tag with a perfectly manicured finger, and without looking back up from your stack of documents.
Now, Nathan glumly reassesses his earlier conclusion. You are being forthcoming because it really doesn’t matter what he, specifically, thinks. Because you’ve already estimated that he’s the guy in the room with least influence. For now, at least. You’ll see. “Better to check. Especially before you start hitting on me.”
He swallows. “Is that what you think’s happening?” Shit. Do you want that to happen?
“Isn’t it?”
He’d make some dig about you flattering yourself. But he knows fine well it’s the most likely reason any hot-blooded guy would be sidling up to you. You’re hot and unobtainable; which makes you even hotter.
Nathan watches as you idly spin your wedding band around and around. He’s surprised you can even lift your arm with that rock attached. When he notices it, he wants to fuck you even more than he did before, but he definitely can’t afford you.
“Actually. I wanted to pick your brains on something. You seem the kinda person who knows a good idea when she sees one.” Unlike the other idiots at this conference who’ve refused to give him the time of day. Maybe he should reconsider his pitch.
You scoff, still not looking up at him. “Honey,” you deliver in a silken, condescending tone, which he is surprised to learn makes him half-hard in his pants. “I charge for that too, and I get the feeling I’m a little beyond your budget.”
“Call it corporate social responsibility then. Supporting the students.”
“Sweetheart. I pay someone else to do that sort of thing for me.”
“Okay.” He takes it in his stride. Wants to show he isn’t fazed by you, even if he is. “Then I guess I am hitting on you. Unless that’s gonna cost me.”
You finally turn back towards him. Look him up and down again as if to remind yourself exactly what you’re dealing with. You study his cheap suit and his mop of curls and his freshly grown-out beard, and he is surprised how exhilarating he finds it to be under your scope.
Your lips curl with subtle amusement, your gaze growing downright wolfish as you survey him.
Fucking unreal.
You look like could eat him up and spit him out. Or… you could swallow, he fantasises briefly, gaze dipping down to your plush mouth.
You do like what you’re seeing, don’t you? Are intrigued by him. Finally. He encounters someone with some good sense.
“What’s it like?” he delivers with a smirk, feeling a resurgence of his familiar confidence as he successfully holds your attention.
You eyeball his fit again. “What? Tailoring?”
He bristles at your dig, but again, aims to present an unbothered exterior. “No. I mean.” His palm waves through the air. “Being a sugar baby.”
You tut at him. “Why, are you interested in a position?”
He arcs a single, thick brow. “I could be.”
“I don’t think my husband’s recruiting. Unless you want a 60-hour a week unpaid internship with zero healthcare and no dental.”
“No. I mean that…” His tie feels awfully constrictive around his neck all of a sudden. This is a bold move but… you have to speculate to accumulate, right? “…I could be yours.”
You clearly weren’t expecting that. And, as much as you try to pass-off that you’re used to jumped-up, cocky little shits like him offering to be your sugar baby, he can plainly see it throws you for a moment. Still, you compose yourself beautifully in no time at all. “I already have one man who saps my time and comes in two minutes flat. What would make you any different, honey?”
Nathan offers you a lopsided smile, opting not to contain the dark, lust-blown gaze smouldering behind his lenses. What does he have to offer, exactly, in this scenario? He purses his lips while he thinks, and then he lands on it: “I’m… hot.”
You look him up and down again, conceding - with a tilt of your head - that his argument is at least halfway compelling. “Hmm. Do you imagine, though, that I struggle for offers from hot, younger men?”
“Not in the slightest. You’re gorgeous.” And rich. “But I think you can do better.”
“Better like you? What makes you so special?” You’re having fun with this. He can tell from the glow in your eyes and the curve of your appealing mouth.
He offers you his best smoulder. It isn’t hard - there’s an easy chemistry between the two of you, he thinks. “There are things I don’t give away for free either.”
“Well,” you ask, leaning in close to him and cupping his chin firmly in your hand as you dip your painted lips towards the shell of his ear. “If I was to take you up on your very generous offer… What pretty things would you want me to buy you with the money, baby boy?”
Fuck. You smell good.
You smell edible, and his suit pants definitely fit far less well than they did when he donned them this morning. In fact, they’re getting increasingly tight around his crotch as his arousal swells for you.
With a tight swallow dipping down his neck and a rare nervous sweat dampening his shirt, he twists to gather some documents out of his backpack. You scrape your nails down his beard as he turns out of reach, and fuck, you’re doing it for him.
Then, gathering his cool, entering the domain he is expert in and is sure of, he flips to the page on costings in his business plan, sliding it across the bar to you.
He gives you a moment to study the text. The list of the equipment, personnel, marketing budgets and so on he needs to realise his rather extensive ambitions. Then, he leans in to you in return as you pore over his plan. He dips his mouth until his beard is tickling the shell of your ear.
“This would be a good start… Mommy.”
As you look back at him with a dark, lust-laden stare, looking as hungry as he feels, he wonders if he might leave this conference with some start-up funds after all.
If this comes off, then… fuck. He hopes you are as ferocious in the bedroom as it strikes him you are in other areas.
Your head is angled towards him, your lips parted in mild surprise. Your gaze briefly dips to the tenting arousal between his legs, and he doesn’t even attempt to hide it.
He has no idea where this will lead; but that’s the fun, isn’t it? Nathan is rather fond of experiments.
A hard swallow dips down your neck and you cross your legs, pressing your thighs together as you take in the substantial swell of him.
You gather a smile, and your composure. “Your business plan looks impressive, Nathan.” His name sounds good in your mouth. He wonders how his cock might feel in there too.
You hand the documents back to him, and you quickly gather up your things, slinging your stack of documents under one arm. With the other, you reach out your hand, offering it to him to shake. He obliges. “I’m certain we could come to some sort of… arrangement.” You free a business card from the holder in your tote and slip it gracefully into his top pocket.
He’s a little disappointed it isn’t your hotel room key, if he’s honest. He’d love to work on his current… problem… right away. “When would you like to… discuss things further?” he asks, as you dangle the promise in front of him.
“You’ll have to make an appointment with my PA,” you dismiss with a smirk. However, you seem keen to guarantee that he does. You’ll be fun to play with, Nathan thinks. “Will you do that for me, Nathan?”
He thinks about it. Decides it’s a no-brainer. “Yes.”
To his surprise, you then reach your hand down towards his crotch, pausing before you touch him and allowing him opportunity to protest. He doesn’t. And so, you settle your palm over the aching bulge between his legs. The warmth of you bleeds through the fabric, and Nathan struggles not to react to the pressure you apply, managing to limit himself to a ragged intake of breath. His eyes flutter shut, lashes fanning against his cheek. When he opens them again, he half expects his glasses to have steamed up.
“Yes, what?” you purr, giving him an abrupt squeeze.
“Y-yes, Mommy,” he stutters, almost choking on his words, and with that, you look very satisfied indeed.
He wagers, from the expression on your face, that you’ll definitely be motivated to seal the deal.
You sweep out and Nathan watches your ass sway in that tight pencil skirt as you go.
Fucking unreal.
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