#nathan bateman smut

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out

Minors DNI

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

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

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

(Lmk if you want more in the future)

Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse

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

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

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

You’re in his office? Bend over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did so good for me, darling…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So pretty… so pretty…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.

“Our beautiful darling…”

Basil Stitt - Lightningface

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

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

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

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

As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.

He needs you to feel good. He needs you.

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

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

“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”

Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue Jones - Sucker Punch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get up. It’s my turn.”

Duke Leto Atreides - Dune

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John pats his shoulder.

“Come, rest your head.”

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————

Thanks for reading!

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

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Again

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

oscar issac characters masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nathan, that wedding was a fortune.”

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

“The bullshit, huh?”

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

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

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

“Then why again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You already did.”

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

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

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

[alwaysmicado]

The Bunny

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

Nathan Bateman Masterlist | AO3

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

Your life with Nathan is an exercise in contradiction. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You try not to think about it too much.

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

And it annoys you how much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re devastated. 

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

And before you know it, you’re screaming. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. No, I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

“It’s a plushie.”

“A plushie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean ‘help’?”

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

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

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

You sigh. Can’t argue with that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is your home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, that’s it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The idea of it being anything more feels almost ridiculous.

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

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

You decide no to ask him how he did it.

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

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

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

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

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

also, his name should be Cinnabun

he’s a bunny

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Nathan. He looks great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile at him, nodding. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading! Nathan Bateman Masterlist

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

[milkypompon]

Pink Interface

pairing: Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

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

content: Fluff, talks of sex, period pains

wc: 1.1k

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

Ex Machina Masterlist || Main Masterlist

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least it worked. 

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

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ… are you pregnant?”

Your mouth gapes at the stupidity of his question. 

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

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

“I know what a period is!”

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

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

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

A ping catches both of your attention.

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

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

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

Equal parts genius and horny. 

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

–

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

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

“You’re stalling.”

“Am not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

[loki-hargreeves]

Smile For the Camera

filming / whipping / abo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, but you love me for it."

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

[minispidey]

I need to hear your most out of pocket HC about your fav Oscar characters that there really isn’t much evidence for but you feel in your soul is right. Can be fluff or nsfw!

For example:

I think Nathan actually likes to be topped and degraded. Do I have any evidence for this? No. Do I know in my pussy gut that I am right? Yeah 😌💅

OUT OF POCKET HCS.

OSCAR ISAAC character headcanons

Content warning: just some real filthy shit. Uses female body descriptions. Breeding kink A LOT. Mentions cheating but doesn't get cheated on.

Characters: Nathan Bateman, Marc Spector, Jonathan Levy, Steven Grant, Miguel O'Hara.

Words: a lot.

Not beta read.

Requested by: @boredzillenial

Author's Note: i wish i could've written more bUT MY BRAIN IS JUST EXPLODING. Btw, thank you for requesting! Reblogs and comments are appreciated 💅❤️

MINORS DNI

I swear. Nathan Bateman's head... you know exactly what I mean. LISTEN YOU SAID OUT OF POCKET SO HERE'S THE FANTASY: just... just grinding on it, your clit getting stimulated by his shaved head— he's not completely bald so I'm saying that if you caress his head, it'll still feel prickly.

Oh but imagine... breeding kink Nathan (tbh just in general i think all oscar characters would have a breeding kink)

Slow strokes, in and out of you. Nathan holding you still— not even in bed, he just wanted to fuck you in his office while idk doing research, but you were just standing in the corner of his office doing god knows what and he's accusing you of seducing him. And now here he was, his research forgotten and fucking you on his seat.

"Hm? When are you gonna learn your lesson that you can't just strut into my office and expect me not fuck the shit out of you?"

"N-Nathan, I wasn't even doing anything-"

"Shh... this'll be your punishment, okay?"

But at the end of it, just cuddling while he worked... but cockwarming him.

"Keep my cum in. Don't wanna waste God's seed, right sweetie?"

"Nathan, just shut up."

The moment you told him to shut up, something awakens in him.

"Slap me."

"Are you crazy?"

"Love, sweetie, honey bunny... please slap me."

Lets you ride him in your own pace for once, and he tried to stop himself from grabbing your hips and slamming you down on his cock.

"Naughty naughty..."

"Sweetie, please... fuck, you're driving me crazy here."

"Aw, don't you wanna cum in me?"

"F-Fuck..."

He fucking whimpers.

"God's seed shouldn't be wasted, right?"

"I'm never letting you be on top again..."

Marc... oh my Marc. I have a mini series coming soon for the Moon Knight boys where Reader is has such a huge crush on Steven, and becomes his girlfriend after confessing. She meets Marc when he fronted, hates him so much and wants to punch him, but he has the face and body of her boyfriend and didn't want to hurt him. Maybe like an enemies to lovers with Marc and Reader, and Steven being happy that they're getting along. Jake will come later to me idk yet.

Imagine just going to bed in one of his shirts. Drives him CRAZY and the next thing you know, your sleepiness disappears as he fucks into you, just in a brutal pace. He loves groping you, breasts, thighs and all. If you're plus-sized/ chubby, he would hold your waist and giving you a squeeze here and there as he fucks you into oblivion.

Would top a lot but he loves it when you ride him and you get overwhelmed by his size.

"Come on, just a few more inches in."

"Marc... too big..."

Size kink applies to all the Moon boys. Well, because they share a body and uses one dick.

Marc just loves pressing against you. He's pretty experimental with the positions. Aftercare with Marc is just heavenly. Bubble bath, washing your body with a loofa. But then he gets turned on again and fucks you in the bath.

You could exist and just breathe, Marc will get turned on (like Nathan tbh).

Jonathan Levy... ugh dilf. An actual one. Expect a long one (tw: mentions mira)

Usually it's the teacher-student love affair with this guy (tbh real) but seriously you can treat him better than Mira.

Something about you keeps driving him crazy to the point that Episode 4 and 5 of the show didn't happen 💅💅

He sees that you're absolutely nothing like his ex wife. And he loves the breath of fresh air. You loved all the things Mira hated about him.

Jonathan loves it when you cup his face and just stare into his eyes. Loves it when you pack him his lunch and put in notes. Brags about it a lot with his co-workers.

Just imagine being in love with him since childhood, being broken hearted when he married Mira, but one drunken night he realized he shouldn't have been chasing after Mira and turned to look at you. You finally had him.

His daughter adores you. Jonathan sees you being so good with children and he immediately goes "I want one with you."

Breeding kink dude. This guy obviously has one. He loves children. (Personally i would give him a football team because he deserves it) when you do get pregnant, he would be so caring and attentive. You're pregnant with his baby so obviously he would spoil you non stop. He would just smile at you whenever you get mood swings and start to get annoyed when he chews too loud.

Just a lot of fucking. Shower, bed, walls, even inside closets. He just adores you. He couldn't believe he was so blind not to see how much you've loved him and he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

"Jon, too tired..."

"Need you so bad, hun... just a few more, please? Wanna cum in you again..."

Mira hates you, but since you're you, you always one-up her and you two may or may not have gotten into a fight and Jonathan found you more attractive since then.

You become possessive of Jonathan whenever Mira's around, but Jonathan actually finds it really hot. Expect more than one round of sex with him on those days.

He never cheats on you even if Mira keeps pushing it. You were one of a kind, Jonathan knew how broken-hearted you would be if he did. Jonathan would purposely treat you like a lady in front of Mira, 100 times more than he usually does (which is impossible he already treats you so well)

Just... you make him a better person. You got him on a leash. He's not going anywhere.

Also he definitely loves risky sex. House filled with guests and you two are in the bathroom. He would even make you moan loudly that it'll annoy Mira who is passing by the bathroom. You enjoyed it when Mira's pissed off. You just hate her so much.

Steven oh Steven. Just imagine trying to seduce Steven, and he's just clueless and continues to ramble on about Egyptian history and all, but you're trying to fuck him.

You want him to clear his table of books and just slam you on the table to fuck you. You go back to reality and he's smiling innocently at you as he kept talking.

You just hear nothing. His voice sounded muffled to you as your eyes scanned his face and stops on his nose... his nose.

Big noses. What Doja Cat said.

"Steven."

"Yes, love?"

"I want you to fuck me right now."

Soft sex with Steven. He doesn't want any position but missionary. He loves seeing your face.

Breeding kink? Yes. You all know this by now.

Falls silent when he cums, eyes rolling to the back of his head. It feels so overwhelming but so good. Loves filling you up to the brim.

Sometimes when you leave a pair of panties out, he would fight the urge to jack off to them. He just misses you so so much.

When you come back, he would push you against the wall and attack you with kisses and hickeys.

He also buys you a matching Koala plush keychain for your keys.

Sometimes you just want him to fuck you mercilessly, just slam you around and use you. UGH IM SCREAMING.

And back to the nose thing, he definitely let you grind on his nose at some point.

"C'mon, love... wanna taste you..."

Something about him nerding out just turns you on. You would suck his dick while he's talking. Even after cumming, you don't stop. You love seeing him overstimulated.

They say home is where the heart is. But god do you love the english 💅💅💅

Did he restrain you to his bed at some point? You told him to. And it unlocked a kink.

But do you know what kink Steven would have? Worship. Take it or leave it.

Messy kisses, his light colored shirts are stained with your lipstick. He ends up with his neck filled with hickeys. His back is scarred by your nails.

Risky sex? Fucking in the museum bathroom. Steven looked so hot behind the gift shop that you couldn't help it. Steven's dad material too, talks to kids really well.

So yeah that's when your breeding kink appeared. You wanted him to get you pregnant. He would be a great father.

"Cum inside me, Stevie. Fill me up."

Loves sucking on your tit while groping the other. He wants to make eye contact with you as much as he could while he does it.

Bree- *gunshots*

This one is obvious though. He has a breeding kink and wants to get you pregnant.

Let's pretend Gabriella's alive here and he sees how good you are with her. He wants to have a bigger family with you.

"Gabby said she wants a sibling..."

Yeah. That's when you know, non stop breeding. Even when you're not even ovulating, he just fills you up. He wants to get you pregnant and see how good you look pregnant.

When you start lactating even before you give birth, he'd suck them out. He didn't want to waste good milk.

He treats you like a gentleman but at the same time you want him to slam you down and fuck you.

He's an old fashioned lover boy, romantic dinner and flowers. Gabriella has a babysitter while you two go on a date. She thinks you two are really perfect for each other. She draws you two a lot and you put them on the fridge.

"Daddy, I saw mommy kissing Spider-Man."

You two choked on your breakfast. Miguel hasn't told her yet about him being Spider-Man. He looks at you and smirks.

"Oh, did she?"

Prepare for a long night of degradation. Pulling your hair and jackhammering into you.

"Such a slut, huh?"

"Dumbass, you're Spider-Man. You can't call me a slut for kissing my husband."

He just fucks you harder. Miguel does get tired easily and lets you ride him.

Just... yes. And yes, he does bite you.

[melodygatesauthor]

Fuckin' Stupid

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader

Blurb 19 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

Nathan was fucking you over your desk. He had your right cheek against the surface, his palm pressing on your face so hard you thought you could taste blood.

“You are so fucking stupid, like seriously the dumbest employee in the whole fucking company,” he exhaled a staggered breath as his hips slammed forward painfully against you, driving your hips into the desk.

“I’m sorry sir I–”

“I’m sowwy–shut the fuck up,” he hissed. “It’s hard enough to come in something dumber than a blowup doll, I don’t wanna hear you talking t-too f-fuck!”

No matter how much he degraded you, you knew he loved the feeling every time your walls squeezed around him in response.

“You know if you were one of my androids I would’ve been done already, but your pussy is so loose I can hardly feel it s-squeezing…I can…mmm-f-fu-u-uh–”

You felt him gushing, fat dick throbbing with every spurt of hot white that painted your insides. His hand was crushing you, pushing you harder against the desk while his other hand was digging nails so deep into your flesh you were certain he broke the skin. His moans echoed through the room and without a doubt could be heard by the receptionist at the front desk.

No matter how much Nathan talked shit, he loved your cunt. At least, the fact that he always came in under three minutes each time let you know he did. He pulled out, sniffing deeply through his nose before spitting on your back and muttering how gross you looked. He mentioned something about cleaning yourself up before he left you like that, bent over the desk and dripping in his fluids.

It was no surprise later when you checked your email to see…you got a raise.

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

[midniqhtt]

nathan bateman

masterlist • oscar isaac characters • 06/24/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 the beauty of imperfection I @missdictatorme

Nathan figured having a personal assistant wouldn't hurt. He was wrong. She was a pain in the ass. Also she was so different from his robots (he no longer have because one tried to kill him). But she was also... fascinating

𑣲 influencer!reader I @/missdictatorme

𑣲 mama bear I @/missdictatorme

You have only one rule, that none of Nathan’s AI androids can interact with your newborn daughter. Nathan thinks you are too suspicious and overreacting. But what happens when one of his creations doesn't obey?

𑣲 in plain sight I @nathanbatemanfucker

for someone who’s all about AI, blanks stares and obedient droids, your likeness to them is driving him crazy. 

𑣲 shut up, kid I @hoedamn-eron

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

𑣲 bluey I @/hoedamn-eron

Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.

𑣲 ebo I @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

𑣲 piano s/o I @/my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

𑣲 assembly required I @reallyrallyauthor

Nathan Bateman is maybe the smartest man in the world. But that doesn’t mean he has the common sense that god gave a can of green beans.

𑣲 accidental kiss I @youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 fake dating I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 by definition I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

“To what extent are we culpable? If there is forethought, is it traceable  through code? At what point are humans no longer responsible for their  creations?”

𑣲 magnetic I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Now that you’ve met him in person, Nathan Bateman is everything and nothing like you’ve expected.

𑣲 rubber ducky, you're the one I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

The last time he got roped into one of these celebrity auctions, Nathan wound up spending six stupefying hours with a Kardashian, trying to explain why they couldn’t launch their own crypto, ‘K-Coin’, without plans for a public exchange. This? This is way more interesting, but just as mystifying.

𑣲 that algo is fucking scuffed part 2 I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

It’s Nathan Bateman’s business card, with all of his contact information on it. But there’s a small hand-drawn → on the bottom. You flip it over and read: Thanks for the fix. Your rate seems reasonable. Looking for a job? -NB

𑣲 the logical progression part 2 I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Maybe it was better that you didn’t meet Bateman until you were further along in your time at Blue Book. By the time you did, you were much more self-assured, knowledgeable, and far less afraid to challenge authority. You hadn’t gotten to where you were by being a shrinking violet.

𑣲 this didn't happen I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

Had you gone to the conference planning to sleep with Nathan Bateman? No. Had you? Yes. Were you regretting it? Absolutely. 

𑣲 chase and pull I @leoluved

nathan likes when you get jealous, but he gets upset when he gets a taste of his own medicine. 

𑣲 dear diary, i met an asshole I @writefightandflightclub

𑣲 uninvited I @/writefightandflightclub

Nathan attends the Met Gala, but there’s something missing. That’s you.

𑣲 post script I @leiakenobi

It took nearly a month after the company funeral for a pair of suits to show up at your door and say, “We’re here to discuss the Bateman estate.”

𑣲 almost lost you I @softboywriting

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.

𑣲 an ordinary business proposal I @freelancearsonist

𑣲 pink interference I @milkypompon

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

𑣲 doppelgänger I @brandyllyn

You’re invited to Nathan’s house after ‘the incident’ to test his new AI. A masc one this time. Of course Nathan made it in the form of the most perfect man he knows, himself.

[jayke0]

Blood warning!

You should try listening to this scene with your eyes closed... just saying..

I was giggling all while making this AODKSKCS.

[alwaysmicado]

in control

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

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

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

- - -

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s such an asshole. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not–” 

“You’re not what, hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That what you want, hm?”   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s torture. 

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

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

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

“Please, Nathan, I–”

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

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

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

“Goddamnit, Nathan, just–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nathan doesn’t like that one bit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re my favorite toy.”

- - -

[milkypompon]

pairing: Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

summary: Did you wake up in your boss' bed after a night together? Oops...

content: Fluff, morning after, talks of sex, sprinkles of smut

wc: 642

a/n: I am balls deep into Nathan Bateman... I'm rewatching Ex Machina and couldn't help but write for this pathetically genius man.

Main Masterlist

–

The bed underneath you was plush… too soft even.

You roll around in the sheets and still haven’t fallen off the single-sized mattress.

Oh, fuck. 

This was a king-sized mattress. 

And it wasn’t yours for that matter.

“You going to piss on my pillows next? C’mon, finish marking your territory.” A lilt of amusement hidden behind the gruff smirk catches you off-guard.

“I already did last night.” You throw said pillows at Nathan, he sidessteps each one. “Where’d you put my phone?”

Nathan chuckles and leans against the door frame, a towel wrapped low on his waist – freshly bathed with water droplets clinging to his chest. 

You knew that you’d be caught staring anyway, so you didn’t bother being discreet about it.

“Are you gonna take pictures to use as references for solo sessions?” He pushes up his glasses, making a show of it with his fingers. 

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, ineffectively stopping last night’s memories from seeping in. Those deliciously thick digits that plugged his cum back into your cunt, threatening to spill out to his annoyance. 

“Just give it back, Bateman. You and I got shit to do.”

Nathan pouts.

He fucking pouts.

You almost feel bad for wanting to leave but reality gave you a cold-wash of “you just slept with your boss”. 

“Quit thinking so hard, you’re gonna fry your brain.” He fishes your phone from god knows where because he certainly didn’t have pockets sewn into the towel.

“Was that between your ass cheeks?”

He tosses your phone back. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

The view is “not safe for work” to say the least. 

Your bare back is pressed against the bed, your stiffening nipples exposed to the cool air. The only thing covering you up right now was the thin sheet splayed across your pussy. (Damn rich people and their attraction to minimalism). 

But there was no point of decency now. He’d seen you on your knees and against the wall. 

There were a few places he’s yet to take you like his annoyingly neat desk that you wanted to mess up just for the sake of musing his workspace.

He said it’d be like straight out of a badly written porno. “Hot, billionaire boss fucks ditzy, sexy assistant on his desk during work hours.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure the title shouldn’t be ‘assistant finds out her boss is actually the owner of PornHub’? How the hell did you come up with it so fast?”

His sweatpants were past his knees but he was rudely interrupted by a call with the board before he could pull your panties off. 

“Alright, sir. You’ve got a long day today.” You open up the Teams app, listing off his daily meetings. 

He plucks your phone and settles your head into the crook of his neck. “I knew you’d do this, pretending like it didn’t happen.”

“I can’t believe I slept with you.”

“I know, I was there.” 

You can’t help it when the corners of your lips curl at his stupid remark.

Nathan beams at drawing out a reaction. “Oh? Is that a smile I see?”

“No, you idiot.” You’re full-on grinning now, cheesing and all.

“Quit worrying about your pretty head, babe. You’re already working full-time at the facility, no one’s gonna know what you’re doing here. Besides, my dick is just a bonus.”

“Is your dick equivalent to a bar of gold? Because I’m gonna need that extra money once I get fired.”

“Now you’re just giving me ideas. Imagine that! A golden dildo molded from my cock.” He strokes his beard. “A true Midas’ touch.” 

You crane over to him, nudging your nose against his. “I’d never survive a day in your mind.”

“Well, you made it through a night with me, so I think it’s fair game.”

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

[minispidey]

what's oral like with nathan bateman???

ORAL.

Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Author's Note: ty for requesting bestie! requests are still open so don't be shy 🙈 i cant think of a title so here.

Warnings: oral sex m!receiving and f!receiving, dirty talk, deep throat, not beta read and probably wrong grammar (english's not my first language)

Nathan positioned himself, his cock standing proudly before you as you knelt down on both knees.

This fucking dick.

"Take it." Nathan commanded, his voice a low growl "Wrap those pretty lips around my cock and show me just how much you crave it. Surrender to the pleasure of serving your God."

I mean everyone knows he has a God complex. Why not during sex too?

You obediently took his cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip as you eagerly sucked the daylights out of him.

Nathan's groans of pleasure mixed with your own muffled sounds, creating a symphony of lust and satisfaction. The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of sex, the wet sounds of your mouth sliding along his length, and the primal echoes of pleasure.

With each stroke of your mouth, Nathan's pleasure intensified, his hips subtly rocking against the sensations you were providing. You continued to worship him, taking him deeper, allowing him to guide your movements with his hands in your hair.

"You feel so fucking good, sweetheart," he murmurs "Your throat is so fucking warm, makes me wanna use it. Want me to use you as a personal fleshlight, huh? Feels just like your pussy." Nathan groans as you responded by humming around his cock.

"Take me deeper, baby. Let me use your throat like the perfect fucktoy." he squeezed your throat "You feel that? My cock's down there. Taking me like a champ."

He releases into your throat, his hand on the back of your head pushed you down further. His warm cum immediately went down your stomach. When he pulls out, your throat felt empty. It was like your throat made a perfect mold of his cock.

Nathan chuckles, helping you up and carrying you over to the bed "You were incredible, love. So fucking amazing."

"I think I need tea..." your voice croaked.

Nathan positioned himself between your legs, his hands gently parting them to grant him access to your most sensitive area. He lowered his head, his warm breath ghosting over your folds.

Nathan wasted no time diving into your pussy, licking and sucking your clit. His tongue wiggled in to ender your warm cavern, tasting you. You suddenly close your legs with his head still in between, surprising him a bit as you moaned out in pleasure.

"Nathan!" you squealed.

Nathan didn't mind. Your soft thighs felt amazing between his head, driving him crazy. Even his beard added more to the pleasure.

As he delved deeper, his tongue diving into your core, Nathan kept his eyes on you. He relished in the sight of you unraveling beneath his touch, your body arching and writhing with pleasure.

The room filled with the sounds of your moans and gasps, mingling with the wet sounds of his mouth on you. His focus was solely on your pleasure, his every movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge.

And just as you were on the edge of release, Nathan intensified his movements, his tongue flicking and lapping even faster. He wanted to push you over the edge, to watch you fall apart in his arms.

With a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, Nathan sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed with pleasure, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you rode out your climax. He continued to lap at your sensitive flesh, prolonging your pleasure until you were left breathless and trembling.

Nathan looks up at you, your sweet release was on his lips and beard.

As you slowly came down from the high, Nathan crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You could taste the remnants of your pleasure on his lips.

"You're too good to me..."

[alwaysmicado]

if I wrote down what I want this man to do to me, I'd surely end up on some sort of watchlist ...

... but I did it anyway.

My first Nathan Bateman x f!reader fic drops in a few hours. Yay!! -> masterlist

Oscar Isaac as Nathan EX MACHINA (2014) dir. Alex Garland

for @moonlight, happy birthday! 

[melodygatesauthor]

How Romantic

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader

Blurb 10 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

[jayke0]

Not finding Nathan hot used to be my pride and joy... but now that I'm gonna watch Ex Machina i can already feel the brainrot stewing AOXMSMD.

[alwaysmicado]

Fleshlight

5.2k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: pwp, D/s dynamic, vaginal fisting, object insertion, p in v (kind of), edging, pussy & face slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, soft(ish) Nathan Summary: Nathan punishes you for being a spoiled brat by edging you in various ways. A/N: I don’t have an excuse for this one...please just know that it’s not my fault. It’s his. Can be read alone or together with my other Nathan fics. Enjoy and let me know what you think! 🤍

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow, his fingers lightly tracing your naked belly. “Go on.” 

You shakily exhale, the sensation of Nathan’s touch overwhelming your already oversensitive body. Nathan knows perfectly well that every caress, every contact sends your brain into a frenzy, rendering coherent thought or speech impossible. The self-satisfied smirk on his stupid, handsome face tells you as much.

The fact that he’s stroking his cock while sitting on his heels between your spread legs isn’t helping either.

Not at all. 

“Hey,” he slaps you hard across the face when you take too long to answer him. “I’m not telling you again.”

The dark glint in his eyes and the harshness of the slap tell you that he means it. His stinging hand goes back to caressing your naked belly, moving further up to your exposed tits. 

You take a second to process the searing pain spreading across your cheek before your brain urges you to speak. “I’m sorry, it just–” Your voice catches in your throat as hot tears well up and trickle down your temples. Your whole body is trembling. “It hurts so bad.”

A sob escapes your quivering lips. They’re swollen and bruised from all the nipping and sucking Nathan’s been doing over the past hour, dried blood visible in the left corner from where he struck you particularly hard.  

Nathan chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his whole face lighting up with genuine joy at your despair. “If you think this little show of yours is gonna get you out of your punishment, you’re mistaken, baby. Now get the fuck on, or I’ll double it.”

His hand explores your left tit, caressing it, squeezing it, savoring the feeling of your warm, soft skin. 

“I don’t deserve to come because I’m a spoiled brat,” you whine as he brushes over your erect nipple, a jolt of electricity shooting through you.

“Hmm, is that so?” he asks facetiously, pinching your nipple and tugging on it so hard you cry out and yank at the cuffs binding you to Nathan’s bed, writhing in pain and ecstasy.

At this point, you could probably come from him pinching your nipple long enough.

“Yes,” you pant, your chest heaving as he’s moved on to your right tit, circling your nipple with the pad of his middle finger.

“You know, it’s funny. I hear your words, but I still don’t think you actually mean them.”

Nathan abandons his cock to reach for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, pouring a generous amount of the cold fluid onto his right hand. Your alert eyes follow each of his movements, and a whimper escapes your lips as you realize what’s coming.

“‘Cause you wouldn’t be such a whiny crybaby if you really meant what you said,” he sighs, his dark eyes studying your face with satisfaction. You’re sweaty, teary-eyed, desperate, and undeniably beautiful. 

He spreads the lube over his fingers, his palm, and the back of his hand, meticulously coating them in the slick substance. With a swift motion, he wipes his left hand on the towel beside your torso before sliding his lubed-up fingers up and down your puffy folds. Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, and a moan escapes your lips as you eagerly arch your hips, craving more of his touch.

A harsh slap on your swollen, oversensitive clit jolts your eyes back open as you cry out in agony. Overwhelming pain shoots through your body, leaving you gasping and writhing against the restraints. Desperately, you attempt to wriggle away and close your legs, but the taut ropes don’t allow you to move much at all.

They’re attached to the cuffs around your wrists and your thighs, right above your knees, connected to the headboard. You have no chance of getting away.

You’re bound, helpless, spread open—completely at Nathan’s mercy.

The stinging sensation from his slap is so painful that a fresh wave of tears streams down your temples, your attempts to stifle the pained noises leaving your lips proving futile.

“I decide how and when to touch you, slut,” Nathan purrs in a deceptively calm voice. “You understand?”

When you don’t respond quickly enough, he delivers another sharp strike to your clit, eliciting a mixture of yelps from you, blending agony and elation. Your body’s wound so tightly that if he keeps this up, he’ll make you come from his slaps alone.

“Yes,” you blurt out, tears stinging your eyes. “I understand.”

Nathan’s been edging you for what feels like an eternity—torturing you with his tongue, his fingers, his voice. Each time he’d get you close to coming, he’d stop all movement, reveling in the progressively more desperate pleas and screams falling from your lips. 

“What’s your color, baby?”

He watches your face intently as he slides three fingers inside you in one swift movement, leisurely fucking your dripping wet pussy.

“Green,” you moan, arching your back as your walls clamp down hard around Nathan’s digits. His left hand grips your thigh, his fingertips digging into your skin.

Satisfied with your answer, he pulls his fingers out of you and glides his lubed-up hand through your folds, tracing a path from your swollen clit down to your asshole. After thoroughly covering you in lube, he withdraws his hand and looks at your face. Your eyes are filled with lust, your pupils dilated, your gaze locked onto Nathan’s dark eyes.

“Mmm, I love when you look at me like that, slut,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips over your clit.

The low sounds of pleasure from your lips are sweet, but Nathan’s searching for harder sounds of ecstasy.

Holding onto your hip with his left hand, he slides his fingers back inside you, adding his pinky this time, slowly pushing all four fingers all the way in. You gasp as he stretches you, holding his fingers inside you so you can adjust to them. Encouraged by your desperate noises, he rotates his hand clockwise and counter-clockwise, feeling your muscles gradually yield and welcome the intrusion.

Your body trembles under his touch, each sensation sparking a surge of electricity that courses through you, igniting every nerve ending with a fiery intensity.

With an extra little push, the big knuckles of Nathan’s hand press against your glistening, stretched lips, your moans escalating into a squeal of ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck, Nathan!”

He holds his hand still for a moment, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort, before easing back an inch and gradually sliding back in. Your body responds with urgency, writhing against the restraints as you moan and whimper at the sensation of Nathan's knuckles disappearing inside you.

“Almost there, my filthy little whore,” he murmurs, amazed by the elasticity of your pussy. 

He squeezes more lube onto his exposed hand and maintains the slow, rhythmic in-and-out movement. After a minute, he reaches the point where all he has to do is tuck in his thumb and push, and his hand would slide in the rest of the way.

“You wanna feel my fist inside you, slut?” Nathan’s dark eyes pierce yours, the hunger you can see in them causing your pussy to clench around his fingers.

“Yes,” you let out, breathless, helpless. You’re a puddle from his touch, and all you want is for him to keep filling you, your desire for him insatiable.

After a few more pumps, he pulls his fingers out almost completely, and moves his thumb into their wet embrace. Slowly, savoring the delicious feeling of your warm cunt around his fingers, he pushes all five digits into you, past the first knuckles, past the second knuckles, holding them still for a moment, listening to your breath, to your rising sounds of ecstasy.

Nathan begins to move his hand out slightly, then in slightly, his wrist twisting subtly with each motion. With every inward push, his hand penetrates a little deeper, methodically stretching you and testing your limits. He halts with the base of his thumb resting against your opening, teasingly maneuvering his hand in and out before applying pressure once more.

Each push elicits another moan from you as his hand slips deeper, gradually stretching you open. To distract you, he pinches your clit as the base of his thumb disappears inside you. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages you as his hand slides fully into your cunt, your muscles closing around his wrist. He keeps his hand still, allowing your body to adjust to the stretch.

You moan, deep and low, trying not to move at all. Any movement touches upon his hand inside and causes a delicious pain he’s only made you feel once before. Gasping for air, you struggle to maintain your composure.

“Breathe, baby. Slowly, in and out,” Nathan coaxes, his voice a soothing contrast to the intensity of the moment.

You let your head fall back onto the soft pillow and do as instructed, focusing on slowing your breath and calming your racing heart.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “You feel so fucking good.”

Nathan’s in heaven. There is nothing in the world he could ever buy or create to equal the intoxicating rush of power he’s feeling right now. With deliberate care, he curls his fingers into a fist, and he holds you, owns you completely. In this moment, you are wholly his, lost in ecstasy, panting and whimpering as your body submits to his command.

He feels your walls tense, wrapping tightly around his fist, then relax slightly. Your face contorts in agonized bliss as he rotates his wrist, feeling the walls of your flesh rub against his hand and knuckles. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan as he begins to slowly thrust his fist in and out of you, the squelching sounds coming from your dripping hole amplifying the arousal between you both.

“I’m–I’m so full. It—shit—it feels too good, Nathan. You’re—oh fuck—you’re gonna make me come like this.” 

“Look at you,” Nathan chuckles, increasing the pace of his strokes, while his other hand pinches your clit. You yelp, feeling yourself edging closer with every movement of his fist inside your cunt.

“You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?” he says, his breathing labored. “Yeah, you are. Letting me destroy your pussy like this and enjoying it. Filthy.”

You rock your hips, your body responding eagerly to Nathan’s touch, every sensation heightened to an almost unbearable intensity. Suddenly, you feel the overwhelming urge to come, knowing you can’t hold it back much longer.

“Please, Nathan, can I please come?” you cry out, your pussy contracting around his hand, your legs trembling. “Please, I–I can’t–”

You hear his harsh voice, “No, baby. You better hold it or you’ll be in even more trouble.”

You barely comprehend what he says to you, but you can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s not going to relent. He doesn’t give you a second to rest, continuously sliding his slick hand in and out of your pussy, greedily absorbing your delicious groans.

You close your eyes as you strain every single muscle in your body, biting your lip so hard you can taste blood, doing everything in your power to resist tipping over the edge.

“Open your eyes,” Nathan’s voice penetrates your foggy mind. “Look at me.”

You have to fight to open your eyelids.

Nathan’s gaze darkens, locking onto yours, willing you to keep your focus on him. Your body is slick with sweat, chest heaving with each labored breath as you find yourself enveloped in a haze—a trance of pure ecstasy, pain, and submission.

Nathan’s eyes drift downwards to where your bodies are connected, marveling at the sight of his wrist wrapped by your eager lips. His cock is throbbing, leaking precum onto the bed, begging for release. With a sense of reverence, he holds his hand still inside of you for a few moments longer, relishing the sensation, all while studying your expression and absorbing the symphony of your blissful pain.

“Please, Nathan,” you whine, tears welling up in your eyes, spilling over, and running down your temples. Nathan’s cock twitches at the sight.

“No, baby, you’re not allowed to come,” he says calmly, his tone laced with feigned pity, even as he continues to slide his fist in and out consistently. His eyes bore into yours and you feel like he’s penetrating your soul.

“You came into the lab looking like a hooker, interrupting my work because you were bored. I explained to you that I was busy and that you’d have to wait until I was done. You were mouthy and acted like an entitled princess, so I told you to leave and that you’d be punished. This is your punishment. You’re not allowed to come for a week and during that time, I’ll edge you as much as I please.”

“I know, I know,” you stammer, your voice breaking. “I’m so–sorry, Nathan, please.”

“Not good enough, baby. You made your choice, and now you have to face the consequences like a big girl.”

Feeling your walls flutter around his fist and hearing your moans grow louder, Nathan stops all movement, keeping his hand nestled inside you, waiting patiently for the wave of ecstasy to subside.

Your pathetic whimpering only serves to fuel Nathan’s arousal further, his cock aching to finally get some relief. Deciding that you’ve been stretched enough for what he’s got planned for you, he begins the slow process of withdrawing his hand from your cunt.

“Deep breaths, baby,” he whispers, lightly brushing over your clit with his left thumb.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!” Your cries echo through the room as your tortured pussy begins again to open wide for him.

“That’s it,” Nathan murmurs, his voice a husky blend of primal satisfaction and raw desire, on the verge of coming untouched as he watches his hand slowly sliding out of his favorite place in the world, your trembling, slick lips parting reluctantly to release him.

The gentle grazing of his hand against your walls ignites waves of exquisite pain, and as his knuckles spread you open, the sensation intensifies, stretching you to your limits and amplifying the pleasure coursing through your body. 

“Please, Nathan, please, please, please,” you whimper, your pleas escaping in a desperate cascade of need. Your mind wanders, losing itself in another realm where you soar, liberated and weightless.

Nathan can feel the involuntary pressure of your body starting to push him out, but he resists the pressure to avoid a sudden exit that might cause you to faint. He needs you awake.

“Easy, baby,” he whispers, softly stimulating your clit with his thumb again.

As his hand slowly emerges from your raw, sensitive pussy, your body begins to shudder. Your abused hole is gaping, liquid flowing from its opening. Your eyes are glossy as you look at Nathan, your tongue absentmindedly licking over your chapped lips.

He sits back on his heels and lightly pets your thighs, spreading the combination of lube and your slickness across your skin. 

“Color, baby?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You take a deep breath before responding, “Green.”

“Very good,” he acknowledges with a smile, giving your clit a tap before rising from the bed. “Cause I’m not done with you.” 

He walks over to the nightstand, picks up the glass of water, and brings it to your lips. With a supportive hand, he steadies your neck, encouraging you to take a few sips.

Satisfied with your intake, he gently lowers your head back onto the pillow and sets down the glass. Then, he retrieves something from the bottom drawer of the nightstand.

His smirk worries you.

As he’s moved away from the bed, your gaze is drawn to the mirrors opposite the bed, reflecting your disheveled form. You observe your puffy, glistening folds, the wet spot on the sheets between your legs, your red eyes, your bruised and bloody lips—you’re a complete mess. A complete, happy mess. 

Nathan rounds the bed, standing in front of you with the object of his desire. It takes your hazy brain a few seconds to register what he’s holding in his hand, but when you do, your face falls, and all you can do is let out a pathetic little whimper.

No. 

He wouldn’t…right? 

Oh, who are you kidding, of course he would.

He scoffs at your shocked face as he spreads lube around the silicone fleshlight, taking his time to insert his slick fingers into the tight opening, humming in satisfaction at the sensation.

“Dumb baby,” he coos sardonically. “Did you honestly think I was gonna fuck your loose pussy after I just ruined it with my fist? I wouldn’t feel shit.”

He kneels on the bed before your spread legs again, pumping his cock slowly with his lubed-up hand. Your wide eyes follow his every movement, the desire to feel him deep inside you, to come around his cock, to have him fill you up consuming your entire being.

But you realize that none of that is going to happen. 

Instead, Nathan teases your entrance with the fleshlight, eliciting a low moan from you. He starts pushing it in slowly, only an inch or two at a time, before smoothly withdrawing it again. The sensation is quite nice, like he’s fucking you with a thick dildo, and after having his whole fist inside you, the toy glides in and out of you without much resistance.

Finally, he pushes it in until it’s fully seated inside you, leaving it there to fill you completely.

“That’s much better,” he says with a smirk as he brushes over the silicone clit and further upwards over yours a few times, then lines the tip of his cock up with the silicone lips that are beautifully framed by yours. He slides inside with one smooth thrust, groaning at the delicious feeling of the ribbed texture massaging his length. 

“Fuck me, that feels good,” Nathan moans, his cock twitching inside the fleshlight as he observes your pained expression. “Such a perfect, tight pussy.”

He leans over you, his face hovering above yours, his hands resting on the bed next to your torso.

“Do you feel that, you little slut?” he murmurs as he thrusts his hips, his balls hitting your asshole repeatedly. “Do you feel how I’m fucking this tight pussy, huh?”

When he notices tears welling up in your eyes, he crashes his lips onto yours, his tongue sliding between your lips with a fervent hunger. As you eagerly reciprocate his kiss, moaning into his mouth, you can taste yourself on his lips and beard from when he ate you out earlier, the heady flavor sending your senses reeling.

Breaking the kiss and straightening back up, Nathan firmly holds onto your thighs as he mercilessly fucks the fleshlight. His gaze never wavers as he tells you what a good little sleeve you are for his favorite pussy, how much he enjoys fucking it, or while detailing his plans to use it in your ass so you can cockwarm him all night long.

Every single word that spills from his lips has you dripping and moaning, lost in a whirlwind of desire and submission. There’s something so incredibly humiliating yet undeniably exciting about being taken by him like this. 

You love hearing his groans, you love feeling his possessive grip on your thighs, you love the feeling of his cock slamming into the fleshlight inside you—but at the same time, an increasingly big part of you is struggling with what you know is coming next.

He’s going to have an orgasm and you’re not. It’s your punishment.

The feeling of almost unbearable frustration that you know will well up within you when he fills the silicone pussy with his cum but leaves you aching is something you both crave and dread.

You’ll be all revved up with no possible release, and that’s brutal.

You try to focus on the stimulation you’re getting from the fleshlight moving inside you as Nathan keeps fucking it. And, more importantly, you try your hardest to focus on the pleasure you’re making him feel, rather than getting preoccupied with the fact that you won’t be getting any physical release.

Most of the time when edges you, you don’t have very much trouble with it, but for some reason today, it’s much more difficult for you to handle.

Nathan pulls you out of your thoughts as he moves his hands from your thighs to your tits and starts squeezing them so roughly that it’s painful. You guess that this means he’s about to come—he loves hurting you when he’s close.

Sure enough, a few strokes later he’s coming with a low groan, digging his nails deeply into your tits at the exact moment he shoots his load into the silicone pussy.

He keeps his cock buried deep inside the fleshlight for a few moments, allowing himself to empty his balls completely and catch his breath. Then, he leans back, letting his cock slide out. The sight of his cum dripping out of the fake pussy inside yours is something he wants to treasure forever.

And he can—thanks to the two 4k cameras recording everything that ever happens in his bedroom.

“Relax, baby,” you hear him say before you feel him slowly pull the fleshlight out of you. He lays it down on the towel next to you, then directs his attention to your gaping pussy. Mesmerized, he gently spreads your lips with his thumbs, his soft cock witching at the sight of your abused hole.

While Nathan’s inspecting you closely, like you’re an android he’s trying to perfect, your head is swimming with all the intense emotions you’re feeling—the deep satisfaction and pride at having pleased Nathan by enduring his punishment, the physical pain, your own frustration. 

It’s all completely overwhelming. 

You’re just grateful that, now that it’s over, you’ll have some time to calm down. Right now, you want to come desperately, and it will take you a while to get past that feeling, but you know you’ll be able to manage it eventually.

That’s why you’re so shocked by the sudden sensation of Nathan’s right hand between your legs, rubbing, while his left hand wanders up to your tits, squeezing them alternately. 

You moan and close your eyes, lost in the ecstatic feeling of his touch. He’s drawing tight circles on your clit, knowing exactly how you like to be touched, and it feels incredible.

But only half of your brain is overcome with pleasure. The other half is in full-on panic mode. You already know for a fact he isn’t going to let you come, so this is just another round of torture for his sadistic amusement.

His fingers feel so painfully good on you, far too good. He keeps alternating between squeezing your tits and digging his nails into them with his hand, intensifying the sensation of his fingers rubbing your swollen clit.

With how sensitive you already feel from him eating you out, edging you, fisting you and kind-of-fucking you, it’s only a matter of minutes before you’ll be getting close again.

You’re usually pretty good at coping with the pain of repeated denial, but right now, you feel like your level of frustration goes past your ability to handle it. The thought of reaching the precipice again, getting so close that another second would bring you to the orgasm you want so badly, is just too much to bear.

You can’t do it without losing your mind. There’s no way.

“No, no, no, please, Nathan, I can’t…Not again, please,” you plead, genuine panic evident in your strained voice.

Nathan slows the movement of his fingers on your clit, raising his head to meet your eyes with intense focus.

“Look at me, concentrate on me, baby,” you hear him say in a stern yet calm voice. “Do you trust me?”

You bite your lip hard, close your eyes with a deep exhale, then open them again. “Yes,” you choke out, your throat tight as you struggle to focus on his words. Your heart races, pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest.

“Listen to me,” Nathan commands. “I want you to calm down and relax, do you understand?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice strained.

“This isn’t up for debate. I want it, it will please me. You belong to me, your body belongs to me, and I will use it how I see fit. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Nathan,” you repeat weakly.

He returns his attention to your pussy, skillfully stimulating your clit. His eyes never leave yours as he relishes the pained expression on your face. “You’re doing great, baby. Keep breathing and stay focused on me.”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe, involuntarily rocking your hips as Nathan, yet again, brings you closer and closer to your high with every precise movement of his fingers.  

“I’m gonna come soon,” you pant, your voice tinged with hope and desperation, wishing he would relent before it becomes too overwhelming.

“Very good. But I’m not going to stop until you’re right on the edge.”

“Okay,” is all you can get out, resigned to your fate.

It only takes another minute. You feel the orgasm building inside you, right there, ready to wash over you in just another second. You feel a tiny, nagging impulse to lie, to tell him it’s come on so fast you couldn’t stop him in time. But you know if you did that, you’d feel so guilty you wouldn’t even be able to enjoy the orgasm.

So, instead, you yell, “Stop!”

He does, sitting back on his heels, hands off your body. 

You yank at the restraints securing your wrists and legs, writhing and screaming at the torturous feeling of your imminent orgasm being taken from you so cruelly. Your clit burns and pulsates, and your sore pussy clenches around nothing in a vain attempt to bring you to completion.

You take deep breaths, attempting to steady yourself. Your chest is heaving and your body’s trembling uncontrollably. Whimpers and sobs escape you as you bury your face into the pillow, eyes tightly shut. 

Your orgasm was so fucking close, and having it ripped away by a man whose smirk you could see through tear-filled eyes has you ready to punch a wall…or claw his eyes out.

You feel a very unsubmissive urge to tell Nathan he’s a bastard for doing this to you. He knows damn well how hard edging is on you, so why the hell is he putting you through this? Just because you wanted to spend more time with him? It’s not fair.

He’s already untied both of your legs and let them down gently, making sure you slowly stretch them for the first time in over an hour. He kneels beside your torso, releasing you from the cuffs around your right, then your left wrist. He watches your face intently, savoring your tears and the pained sobs escaping your swollen lips.

If you weren’t sore, he’d fuck you right now. You’re so beautiful when you’re hurting.

You turn onto your left side, away from Nathan, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You’re scared by how angry you are at him and want to feel as small as possible because it makes you feel safe.

Nathan lies on his side behind you, drawing the covers over your trembling body. Propping his head up on his hand, he places his palm on your shoulder, stroking your arm gently. Your muscles tense at his touch, conflicted emotions swirling within.

“You wanna come, baby?” he coos, a hint of sadistic amusement in his voice.

What the fuck do you think?

You don’t say anything, weak sniffles occasionally breaking your silence.

Nathan sighs deeply but decides to let your non-response slide. He’s pushed you a lot today, and as he observes your fragile state, he’s prepared to cut you some slack. 

“Tell me why I’m not letting you.” He puts a soft kiss on your damp shoulder blade, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

“Because my pain makes you happy,” you say, your voice strained.

“Yeah, well, that’s a given,” Nathan says with a hint of amusement. “But seriously, I want you to tell me why I’m not letting you come.”

You’re biting your tongue so hard to refrain from saying something you’ll regret, acutely aware that your frustration is clouding your ability to find the part of your mind where the right answer Nathan’s looking for is located.  

He gives you a moment to gather yourself, confident you’ll be able to overcome your anger.

Eventually, you relent. “I don’t deserve to come because I’m a spoiled brat,” you murmur into your pillow. “I–I lashed out at you today because I felt neglected and that wasn’t the way to go about it. I need to be punished for that and I trust you to make the right decision about what that punishment should look like.”

Nathan listens attentively, his expression softening as he hears your words. “That’s exactly right, baby,” he says gently, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your shoulder blade and neck. “See? Even a dumb little toy like you gets it eventually.”

He sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Come here,” he murmurs, motioning for you to lay on him. Meeting his gaze for a second, you obediently nestle your head on his warm skin, your left arm draped over his torso.

He allows you a moment to calm down, gently scratching your scalp, the rhythmic beat of his heart relaxing you. You savor the fleeting intimacy, fully aware that he’ll soon ask you to leave as he has an important meeting scheduled in half an hour.

Your ears perk up when his low voice breaks the silence, his chest vibrating with each word. “I know edging is hard for you, and I’m glad to hear you understand why things need to be this way. I’m proud of you.”

You nuzzle your head against his chest, an overwhelming feeling of warmth spreading through you. Nathan’s proud of you. No orgasm in the world could ever compare to the feeling of hearing those words from him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you today,” you murmur.

“Apology accepted,” he says, his tone sincere. “Now, go to the bathroom and take a shower. Dinner’s ready in twenty minutes and I bought that stupid Dune movie you won’t shut up about.”

You lift your head and stare at him in disbelief, convinced that your brain—or Nathan—is playing a trick on you. You’re so confused.

“But what about the meet–”

He raises an eyebrow. “If your ass is not out of this bed in the next ten seconds, I’m tying you up again, and I promise you won’t like what I’ll do to you then.”

You can’t hold back the dopey grin that spreads across your face as you pull back the covers and scurry to the bathroom as fast as your weak legs will allow. 

Nathan watches with an imperceptible smile as your silhouette disappears behind the automatic door.

– – –

Thanks for reading!! 🤍 -> Nathan masterlist || main masterlist