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autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 years ago

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So many of those smut prompts sound like our favorite asshole, Nathan Bateman. So let’s do smut #12 with Nathan pleeeasee.

Oh, I love writing Nathan Bateman, I do not do it very often so let me know what you think. Thank you for the request lovely. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x F! Reader

Warning: 18 + (Language, Oral F! Receiving (Explicit), Nathan Bateman)

Word Count: 2K

My Masterlist

Prompt # 12 “The food looks great, but…there’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.” - Nathan Bateman.

Seven days. It had been seven days since you’d see Nathan Bateman, and he fucking lived here. He was like a ghost, haunting the hallways while you slept, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and empty bottles of alcohol in the trash bin. Besides those small things, you wouldn’t know anyone was in the house besides yourself.

You had to get out of this house. You went to the closet and got out your brown hiking boots and changed into your fleece leggings and a sweater, tugging your rain jacket on over it. It was lightly misting outside, and you enjoyed taking deep breaths of the fresh air and the melodies of nature. The sweet coo of the birds and the snap of branches as animals scurried into their burrows.

Your backpack slung over your shoulder held a delicious picnic lunch for you to enjoy at the glacier towards the end of the trail. Fresh cut apples, with a dip made of Greek yogurt, peanut butter, and honey, a baguet piled high with prosciutto, mozzarella, and arugula, a large brownie filled with peanut M&M’s a personal favorite. It felt good to be making something just for yourself.

Cooking for Nathan usually meant green smoothies, chicken, and rice, things that would keep him trim. Although he did love your brownies. You frowned, thinking of your boss and what the past year was like living here in the wilderness, so far from civilization. After his ‘incident’ with one of his inventions nearly killing him, he’d hired you to become a housekeeper/assistant. Although he never required you to do any assistant work, unless it included dictation. But he spoke so fast he usually just turned on the text to speech anyways.

This had been the longest he’d gone without seeing you, and it concerned you greatly. If it weren’t for the empty dishes, you’d think he was dead in the lab. The thought turning your stomach sour of a world without Nathan Bateman. No, he was not ideal. He was an asshole most of the time, always needing to get the last word and prove his intelligence. You’d told him one night that it wasn’t a competition after he’d interrupted you again with some obscure fact. He’d just smirked and told you everything was.

You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him over the past week. Living so isolated and away from everyone made you depend on each other more for human interaction. Almost every night after dinner, he would sit at the counter nursing a drink and talk to you about his work. Most of it went over your head, but it was the time he took to speak to you that mattered. When you’d first arrived, he spent most of the time ignoring you unless he absolutely needed you.

You keep walking further and further down the trail smiling at the night that changed it all. You’d been on the couch in the living room, rain splattering against the windowpane, a fire warming the room—the TV showing your favorite romantic comedy, When Harry Met Sally. Nathan had come into the kitchen for another beer and was walking back to the lab when he heard moaning sounds coming from the living room. He’d quickly come to sit down next to you, pulling the blanket draped over you across his lap to share, eyes transfixed on the TV.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, looking at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, she told him that women fake orgasms sometimes, and men can’t tell. He said he could tell, so she is pretending to have an orgasm in the middle of the restaurant.”

He laughs, and it shocks you as you both turn back to the screen, watching Sally slam her hands down on the table and scream out her climax. He stayed for the entire movie, pulling the bowl of popcorn between the two of you and taking handfuls. When your hands touched both, reaching into the bowl, he froze and quickly withdrew his hand.

The touch had been eclectic, and you swore you could still feel the tingles today, the zings traveling up your arm. His commentary during the movie had you laughing harder than the movie. He watched you, eyes beaming as you snorted and were almost in tears, his smile stretched across his face. It was at that moment you’d realized you’d never seen someone more handsome in your life.

You shook your head and kept walking. It wasn’t right to have those feelings for your boss. But it was hard not to when things changed so much after that night. Movie nights became a weekly thing; he’d stayed after dinner to talk, you’d been on several hikes together, he became more. You fell in love with him, and it fucking sucked.

You reach the glacier and take a moment to appreciate the view. The sun hitting the side of the ice, making it almost appear blue to the eye. The water crashing over the bottom, the cool air brushing against your face. You sit down your pack, pull out the blanket you’d brought, the one from the couch you used to sit under with Nathan, and lay it out. Sitting in the middle and taking out your lunch containers and novel to enjoy for the few hours of fresh air you desperately needed.

“So this is where you ran off too,” Nathan’s voice surprises you from behind, and you toss the apple slice in your hand in the air with a yelp. “Jesus Nathan!” you shout, “Did you have to sneak up on me?”

“I can’t help it if your unobservant,” he chastises playfully, “What the hell are you doing out here? You never go on hikes without me.”

You look at him incredulously, “Did you forget that I haven’t seen you in seven days?!” You can’t help the way your voice cracks, and he locks his eyes on your quivering lip.

“I-I,” he never stumbles over his words, and you look at him in shock, “I’m sorry, alright?”

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly. He takes a seat beside you on the blanket and looks out over the landscape, nodding.

“Yeah, I just- I just needed to figure some things out. But,” he turns to you, “I know what I need to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

He ignores you and reaches for the container with the sandwich pulling it out, smooshing it between his hands, and pulling it in for a bite. The little bit of mayonnaise dribbles down his beard, and you reach forward without thinking to brush it off with your thumb. You keep his eyes as you move the finger to your lip and lick it off. He clears his throat and puts down the sandwich reaching for an apple slice and slipping it into the dip.

You watch his eyes close around the first heavenly bite, and you bite your lip at the look of pure ecstasy on his face. “What do you think?” you ask, grinning.

He opens his eyes and reaches for another slice and slathering it in the dip before popping the whole thing in his mouth and sucking the rest of his finger. “The food looks great, but...there’s something much more delicious I’d rather eat right now.” He turns his head to look at you, and the air is sucked from your lungs. There is a hunger growing in his russet eyes, and it’s not from your lunch.

“What- what d-do you m-mean?” now you are one stumbling over your words, and he smirks. He takes his time repacking the containers and clearing the blanket before he reaches for you. He scoots himself closer and puts both hands around the sides of your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you want to know what I had to figure out this week?” he asks quietly, and you nod, clinging to his every word. “I needed to figure out a way to tell you I want to be with you.”

“Y-you mean more than my b-boss?” you stutter.

He chuckles darkly, “Well, you can still call me sir, but not because I pay you,” he teases, and you bite your lip, chewing on it. His eyes are drawn to it, and he uses his thumb and pulls it from your teeth and down. “I want to kiss you,” he whispers deeply, “okay, Kitten?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you groan, shutting your eyes and leaning forward.

He chuckles and pulls you close, “you called,” he teased and slotted his mouth over yours, his beard brushing against your face, softer than your expected. The smell of bergamot drifting over you, the beard oil you bought him for his birthday. He licks against your bottom lip, and you open, allowing your tongues to wrestle. His hands leaving your neck and pushing your shoulder down gently so he can straddle you. His forearms braced on either side of your head, his nose brushing against yours.

His lips travel down to your neck, and his hands move over your coat, sliding the zipper down and pulling it open. His mouth presses hot wet kisses against your collarbone, and you throw your head back and moan as he kneads your breast through the sweater. “Fuck,” he whispers, moving lower and sliding past your breasts. He nips at you through the fabric, and your buck up into him. Your hands gliding over his shoulders so broad in his coat.

He hovers over you, looking into your eyes with lust blown pupils. His hand reaching towards your bottoms. You nod, and he begins shimmying them down your hips, along with your panties. He watches your pussy wet and dripping like it’s a Monet in an art museum, and he runs a thick finger between your folds.

When he hears your soft whimpers, his eyes travel up to you, and he keeps your eye contact as he dips his head forward and licks broad strokes through your cunt. His mouth latches onto your clit, and he sucks it into his mouth, causing your hips to rise. “Nathan,” you moan, “please,” you beg, and he pulls off with a pop.

“I’m just trying to enjoy this delicious picnic you packed for me Kitten, don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” He smiles as you throw your head back as he teases a finger at your entrance before sliding it inside you and curving gently. His tongue goes back to teasing your clit, sucking it, and nipping lightly, never enough to be painful.

He slowly drags his finger in and out of you, drawing out the pleasure before he adds a second finger. Your fingers slip beneath your sweater and pull on your nipple with your left hand. The right coming down to keep his head down on your clit. When he adds a third finger and begins to circle your clit with his tongue, you feel the dam break. The pleasure coursing through you is almost drowned out by the crashing water below.

He lets you ride it out until you groan and push at his head and pull him up to your lips. He tangles his tongue with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulls away with a proud smile on his face, his beard glistening in your juices. “How was that?” he asks.

You let out a laugh and smile, “Fucking amazing,” you pant attempting to catch your breath, “Are you going to fuck me, Mr. Bateman?” He sighs before rolling off you and to your side, interlacing your fingers with his own and looking at the blue sky above you.

“Eventually,” he turns his head and looks at you, “I am going to fuck you on every single square inch of that house, and then when I’m done, I’m going to do it again.” He sits up and pulls your leggings back up, and buttons them shut, making sure you’re warm. “But right now,” he reaches for you and tucks you into his side, pressing his lips on your forehead, “I am going to enjoy a day out with you. I’ve fucking missed you this week.”

You smile and reach an arm across his chest and place your head on his chest, “Oh Nathan, I really missed you too.”

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#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x Reader #Female Reader #Autumn Writes #Oscar Isaac #ex machina #Ex machina fic

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