#nathan bateman/reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midgardian-witch · 4 months

Text

Cruel To Be Kind (Of A Dick)

[Part 1] | Part 2 | [Part 3]

Nathan's dick gets put in a cage and you love to see him suffer (a little bit).

ships: Nathan Bateman/afab!Reader

word count: 4.6k

AO3

Everything seemed fine for the first few days of Nathan's punishment. The biggest reaction you had gotten from him so far was during what you’d simply call cleanup. He grumbled and moped as you’ve taken off the cock cage every morning and evening for hygiene purposes.

“Fuck,” he curses as you hold his cock while it’s still encased in that shiny, silver cage you had picked out for him, “Can you be quick? It’s weird enough you’re watching me do this.” You force down a smile as you watch his cock trying to swell with interest, eager for your touch, yet constricted by the metal surrounding it. Instead you roll your eyes at him. “This is so I can make sure you actually wash yourself and don’t use this time to secretly get off without permission.”

He looks at you nonplussed, as if it's absolutely ludicrous to even assume he would use these few minutes to sneak in a wank. But you know him. Nathan is the most opportunistic person you know, if you give him a finger he will take your whole arm. If you give him five minutes alone he'll try to get off at least three times. You would not give him the opportunity for that.

You return his look, holding his gaze until he rolls his eyes with an offended grunt and turns his head away. You slide to your knees to carefully unlock the cage and pull it off of Nathan's cock. After making sure that he hadn't suffered any injuries or damage to his member you grab a wet washcloth and get to work, choosing to do the cleaning yourself this time, just to mess with Nathan. As soon as the cloth meets his skin Nathan flinches. "Fucking hell," he curses and you look up at him with worry, fearing you had missed something during your inspection. "Couldn't you use warm water? It's fucking freezing." You did, in a way. You specifically used lukewarm water, not hot enough to irritate and not cold enough to give a shock to his system. The grumpy look on his face combined with that almost pout is just too adorable not to make you smile. “My poor baby boy! Is the water too cold for you?” you coo at him, fully aware of his hands clenched into fists at his side. His eyes narrow and the angry stare he gives you makes your grin even wider.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

His eyes widen slightly at your offer. He hadn't felt your lips anywhere near his cock in days. You can almost hear the gears in his head turning before Nathan gives you a short, almost dismissive nod, desperately trying to seem unaffected. You click your tongue at him in displeasure, “Use your words, Nathan.” Instead of following your request he grumbles something unintelligible into his well-groomed beard, his eyes darting around the bathroom looking at anything but you. Grumpy little brat. You repeat his name in a stern voice, his back straightening at your harsh tone. “Fuck- yes,” he responds, sounding annoyed.

You decide to let this one go for now and lean forward, your face just a few inches away from his groin. With mischief in your eyes you look up at him through your lashes before you place feather-light kisses to Nathan’s soft member. He chokes off a gasp to hide his reaction but it’s no use as his cock twitching against your lips is a dead giveaway. With each kiss to his now slowly growing erection you linger a little longer, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin. His breathing is getting heavier, his hands twitching with the need to touch you, to hold your head right where he wants it. When you stop your torturous teasing Nathan looks down at you with pupils blown wide. Eyes locked with his, you drag your tongue languidly over his quivering cock in one broad stroke. A groan rips through him and he bucks against you.

You lean back and shake your head disapprovingly. "You really have no self-control. No wonder I have to keep you locked up, otherwise you might try and fuck anything that is even vaguely hole-shaped like a horny teenager," you scold him. Of course you're not even a little angry at him but you've figured out long ago that Nathan enjoys a little humiliation and you're happy to provide.

Nathan bites his lip, straining to keep his moans under control, eyes screwed shut in concentration. You've half a mind to slap his cock to torture him even further but you fear he might cum instantly.

"Speaking of which: time to put your pretty little cock under lock again," you continue cheerfully. You rise from your knees and press a chaste kiss to Nathan's lips. His eyes flutter open and you recognize the hazy look in them immediately. You hadn't expected him to drop into subspace just from this. He wasn't too far gone but it nonetheless surprised you. Maybe the cage did have more of an effect on him than Nathan led on.

You reach out and cup his cheek with your hand. "How do you feel, baby? You good?" you keep your voice soft, none of the earlier teasing and humiliation present in your tone. He nods slowly, blinking a few times, trying to rid himself of the brainfog, to leave the shallow end of subspace that you had brought him to. Your thumb is stroking along his beard, that small touch helping him ground himself more than he could explain even with his impressive intellect.

Nathan tilts his head towards your hand, his lips grazing your wrist. "I'm good. Sorry, that was…" he trails off, words failing him.

"No need to be sorry. Please remember you can always safeword when it gets too much."

"I know. It wasn't too much," he grumbles softly, his characteristic arrogance slowly returning. You chuckle in response and shake your head. "Alright then. Let me clean your cock and put the cage back on. Then you can go take a shower. I'll even leave you alone for that."

You take the now less than lukewarm washcloth and run it carefully over his dick. Nathan flinches from the cold but the look he's giving you is much less angry compared to the first time. His erection quickly fades until he is fully flaccid again. With ease you put his cage back on, his cock and balls once again trapped in shiny metal.

With a quick kiss to his cheek you leave Nathan to clean the rest of himself. And that was that.

Otherwise he didn't show much of a reaction to wearing a cock cage. If you didn’t know, if you weren’t the one with a key dangling on a chain around your neck, then you wouldn’t be able to guess in a million years that Nathan Bateman - one of the smartest and most egocentric men alive - had is beloved dick tucked and locked away in a metal cage.

It’s starting to get on your nerves.

Since this is a punishment you had hoped for more of a reaction. For Nathan to beg and plead for you to take off the cage, to shorten his sentence and forgive him. But of course Nathan wouldn't give you that satisfaction. He'd grumble and mope for a bit but otherwise act like nothing was amiss. That damn bastard.

He's lucky you enjoy working to get a reaction out of him (and to make him work for your reaction in turn). Those seven days would not go by just like that. You had other plans. To hit Nathan where it really hurts him: his ego.

You leave him in relative peace until the very last day of his punishment. Of course you still tease him during the two times a day you wash his dick so he can't jerk off. You don't stop touching him throughout the day either, grabbing his ass or pinching his nipples through his clothes. It always elicits a response, a yelp or a moan followed by Nathan looking at you grumpily but never saying much. You're almost disappointed that he doesn't even curse at you. But alas you do still have your grand finale planned.

So on the evening of his last day in a cock cage (for this punishment at least) you take advantage of Nathan's workaholic nature. It's late, the sun had already gone down hours ago. So while he is busy typing away on his computer you quietly slink away - as unnoticed as possible when there are security cameras everywhere. You know exactly where each and every camera is placed so it's not too difficult for you to stay in the blind spots as you make your way to the bedroom.

Your shared bedroom is a weird yet comfortable mix of Nathan's more spartan decor and your own personal flair. You walk straight towards the bed, kneeling down to pull out a sleek yet massive looking box from underneath. The box is barely keeping the huge amount of toys you keep inside. Dildos, vibrators, plugs and more in various shapes, sizes and colors greet you as you pop open the lid.

You take a moment to consider which toys will be your accomplices in Nathan's destruction. Carefully you pick out a beautiful, sleek dildo in your favorite color. It's a smaller model, thinner than Nathan's cock but almost as long. It's a comfortable size for what you had planned. You throw the silicone toy on the bed, together with a small bottle of lube, before looking through the box again.

Under the colorful array of sexual delights you pull out a neon pink anal plug, a long yet bulbous thing and your favorite to use on Nathan. The shiny pink gem, a real gemstone, not one of those plastic ones (Nathan insisted on it since if he was 'going to be plugged up like a slut he might as well be an expensive one’), glitters under the artificial lights. You should have added the plug to his jewelry for this week's punishment. Ah well, next time. You put the plug back into the box to be used at a later date and close it. With a gentle shove the toy box is once again hidden under the bed.

Time to get ready.

A quick shower in the ensuite bathroom and a mental pep talk later you sit down in the middle of the huge bed. Under the fluorescent lights it feels like a huge spotlight is directed right at you. The sterile, artificial light used to bother you when you started living with Nathan, but now you find a strange comfort in them as you spread your legs just enough to easily access your cunt. As you tentatively slide two fingers between your pussylips, slick is already gathering at your fingertips. Just thinking about your plans for Nathan tonight has you wet with excitement.

You curse under your breath as you gather your slick and spread it over your cunt up to your clit, rubbing gentle circles over the sensitive nub. With your other hand you blindly grab the dildo next to you. You grab the lube and spread it generously over the silicone toy. The bottle of lube is quickly forgotten when you raise your hips, making space to place the dildo under you and line it up with your entrance. Taking your time you sink down on the silicone toy, a drawn out moan falling from your lips with every inch. As you bottom out you take a moment to collect yourself, getting used to the stretch of the toy inside you. After a few deep breaths the show begins.

You slowly grind down on the dildo, one hand on your clit while the other plays with your nipples. You don't hold back your moans, showing your pleasure freely to your invisible audience, soon an audience of one if everything works out like you had planned. Your anticipation gets overshadowed by the sensation of your hands on your most sensitive spots, teasing just enough to keep you aroused but not exhaust yourself right away. There wasn't exactly a planned time frame here so you had a thin line to balance on.

It was exactly the moment you had lost yourself to your own pleasure, not noticing anything outside of your own body. Not the sound of a door opening, of footsteps approaching the bed or of knees hitting the floor. It's only when you feel the mattress dip slightly that you open your eyes that you hadn't even noticed slipped shut, that you see Nathan kneeling on the floor, just about to climb onto the bed.

"Hello baby," you coo breathlessly, not stopping your self-pleasure. His eyes shoot up immediately and you can see the pained, almost angry look in his eyes, his brows furrowed like your mere existence personally offends him. "What the fuck is this?" he grumbles, gesturing towards you. "You're the genius; what does it look like?" you counter.

"You're riding a dildo."

"Very good. You're so perceptive!"

"Why?"

You halt your motions, looking down at him, head tilted slightly. "Well, I can't use your cock, can I?"

His face hits the mattress with a pained groan. You only make out a muffled "And whose fault is that?" that leaves you laughing, delighted by his suffering.

"Yours, baby. You know I don't punish you without reason," you reply with only a slight bit of condescension in your tone, "Besides, you've been handling this way better than I expected. I almost got the impression you like having your cock locked up like this." Nathan lifts his head up from the mattress, desperately trying to keep eye contact with you and not fixate on the spot where you're impaling yourself on a dildo. You watch as his gaze flickers between your face and your cunt. His tongue flicks over his lips nervously like he is getting away with something he shouldn't do, only feeling guilty if he gets caught. You're not sure if he heard you, too distracted by your shameless display, or if he simply ignores your words. Under the glare of the artificial lights you swear you can see drool gathering at the corners of his mouth. The slick, lurid sound of the dildo moving in and out of your dripping cunt fills the air as you slowly get back into your prefered rhythm, unbothered by Nathan's presence.

"I can do better than that," he mumbles suddenly as he comes closer, close enough to smell your arousal. You roll your hips with a soft moan and look at him, eyebrow raised, asking him to elaborate. "Yeah…well, first of all: I am much bigger than that thing and second," he swallows hard, some drool already stuck in his beard, "Second, you know I can make you cum harder than that piece of silicone ever could, baby." You hum in agreement, your lips pulled into a smug grin. "Hmm, that's true. Too bad your cock is out of the picture until tomorrow at the least," you tease, your hands exploring your own body, pinching and caressing wherever they please. A disgruntled sound presses its way out between Nathan's lips before his eyes flick back to your face, "Let me eat you out then or finger you. Ride my face. I can rim you. Anything." He crawls onto the bed and over to you, slow enough for you to stop him but you don't.

"Please baby," he whispers, kneeling on the bed in front of you and leaning forward close enough to kiss you. "What was that?" you reply in a soft, yet warning tone. His mouth hangs open, shallow breaths fanning against your lips as he looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please Mommy," he corrects. You smile warmly at him, your hand gently cradling the back of his head as you pull him even closer. "Good boy,” you whisper against his lips, “Kiss me." He obeys and closes the gap between you. The kiss is messy, Nathan's mouth devouring yours hungrily. Gently you pull him away from you but he stretches his neck, leaning forward, unwilling to part from you. "That's enough, baby. Let's put your mouth to better use," you propose and Nathan licks his lips eagerly in response.

You let yourself fall backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress and your legs spreading wide, the dildo still halfway inside your cunt. Nathan reaches out towards the toy but hesitates. "Can I?" he asks politely, his fingers skimming over the flat base of the dildo. "Go ahead." Carefully he pulls the dildo out of your cunt, the silicone toy slipping out of your dripping hole easily. Nathan takes a moment, scrutinizing the dildo in his hands before throwing it across the room like it offended him personally. “Careful, baby, that’s one of my favorites. Or do you want to buy me a new dildo after this?” you joke teasingly as you watch the silicone toy land somewhere beside a bookshelf. “I’ll get you all the toys you want,” Nathan growls as he rubs his cheek against your thigh, breathing in your heady scent, “Anything you want if you let me eat you out. Fuck, I need your pussy so bad.”

You look down at Nathan crouched between your legs, begging for your cunt. Your tongue flicks across your lips as you grin. “So you just want to eat me out? You don't want to beg me to unlock your cage so you can fuck me, hm? To prove to me how much better your cock is than my toys?”

Nathan rests his forehead against your thigh, cursing under his breath. “It's just a few more hours until your punishment is over, baby. It's perfectly fine if you can't take it anymore,” you continue, deliberately poking and prodding away at his pride. If there is one thing Nathan can't refuse it's a challenge to his ego.

“I can do it,” he mumbles, “Just a few more hours.” Nathan swallows hard and looks up at you with pupils blown wide with lust, desire burning in his eyes.

“So, can I?” he asks again, licking his lips, “Please, can I eat you out? Or you can fuck my face. Any way you want it! I just- fuck- I need your pussy.”

Nathan already sounds wrecked. Just the thought of having him pussy-drunk with his face buried between your legs makes your whole body tingle with anticipation.

You hum thoughtfully, only mulling it over for dramatic effect, before you reply, “Well, if you're begging for it so nicely how could I refuse?” You pull your knees closer towards your body, the soles of your feet flat against the mattress, giving Nathan ample space to get comfortable between your thighs. “Go for it, baby. Make Mommy feel good,” you encourage him sweetly. Your seductive tone draws him in like you're a siren and he is lost at sea. And you both know how eager he is to drown in you.

His hands hold your thighs open and he leans down to your cunt. His beard prickles against your naked core as his lips and tongue swipe over your slick folds and clit. As soon as Nathan gets a taste of your sweet juices a hungry growl leaves his lips. He hadn't gotten to taste you since his punishment started and it has turned him ravenous. Nathan eats you out like a starved man, tongue sliding between your folds, lips wrapped around your engorged clit and sucking on it like it's candy. You grab his shaved head, barely finding purchase, and run your nails over his scalp. “That's it, baby. Fuck- you're doing so well. So good for me.” Your praise goes right to his head; he moans into your cunt, the vibrations adding another layer of stimulation to your sensitive core. Nathan drives his tongue into you, his nose rubbing deliciously against your clit. His slurping noises are obscene as he makes a feast out of your pussy.

Normally it might have been embarrassing how quickly he brings you closer to your orgasm but Nathan hadn't been the only chaste one in the past week. Your thighs tremble with each stroke of his tongue. “I’m close. Keep going, baby. Doing so good,” you moan, your nails digging almost painfully into his scalp as you push him deeper into your cunt. He answers something you can’t understand, too muffled by his tongue lapping at your clit. You can feel your orgasm building, your peak approaching faster and faster, your broken moans filling the air. As you come undone, your thighs reflexively squeeze down on Nathan’s head, pinning him in place. You ride out your orgasm, humping his face until the friction is almost too much, the scratch of his beard tingling against your wetness.

Once your breathing has evened out you open your legs again and gently pull Nathan away from your cunt. He whines in protest, eager to stay between your thighs and bury his face in your pussy again, to keep tasting your essence. “It’s enough, baby. Up!” you order, your voice missing its usual edge right after your orgasm. Nathan looks up at you, eyes glassy and face drenched in your juices. “Please Mommy. Want more. Wanna- fuck- wanna stay. Love your pussy, Mommy,” he babbles, drunk on your pussy.

It’s endearing in a way and you would be happy to keep him there and warm your cunt but after a week of chastity for the both of you you already feel close to overstimulation. “No, baby. That’s enough for now,” you refuse, feeling a little guilty. You watch as his eyes start to water a little. “Did- did I fuck up? Didn’t I do good? I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sor-” “You were perfect, baby. Such a good boy for Mommy. You did nothing wrong,” you reassure him quickly. He doesn’t look like he believes you. You pull him up so you are face to face. A string of apologies keeps bubbling up in his throat but you silence him with a tender kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue as he opens his mouth for you obediently. You explore his mouth until you feel him calm down. As you part he looks at you with a dreamy look in his eyes, his earlier worries seemingly already forgotten. “You’re my good boy. So good for me. You made Mommy come so good, baby, “ you praise him, every sentence accentuated by a soft kiss to his face. Nathan beams at you, soaking up your praise eagerly.

“My pussy is too sensitive right now,” you explain, now that he is calm and listening, “But we can do something else. We still have time until I unlock you.” As you reach for his caged cock for emphasis you notice pre-cum dripping from the tip, his cock swollen painfully, looking like it might burst out of its metal trappings. A choked off whine escapes his throat when your fingers graze his length. “Does it hurt, baby? We can take it off if it hurts-” Nathan shakes his head violently. “No, please! Don’t take it off. Hurts good. Want it.” You raise an eyebrow, concern written all over your face. “Are you sure?” He nods. “Hurts good, Mommy. Want it to hurt. Feels so good. Makes me- oh,” he’s cut off by a moan bubbling up as you gently rub the parts of his cock that are spilling out of its cage. “Keep talking. How does it make you feel?” “Like I’m y-yours,” he admits quietly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck like he’s ashamed of it. You can’t help but smile and lean down to press another tender kiss to his lips. “You are mine. My good boy.” He nods, rubbing his face against your cheek like a cat. “Yes Mommy, I’m yours. All yours.”

You stay like this for a while, you basking in the afterglow of your orgasm and Nathan blissfully staying in subspace, cuddling on your way-too-big bed until you both nod off. Before you drift off to sleep you think about all the other things you could have done with Nathan: peg him, let him keep a butt plug in or maybe even some good old CBT. But, as you look at your lover already snoring up a storm, his face pressed into your tits, you decide that there is a time for that later. Nathan wasn’t going to stay this good for long.

When you open your eyes the next morning Nathan is staring at you from the other side of the bed. “Finally you’re awake. I thought you might sleep through the whole fucking day,” he grumbles. You yawn and stretch, ignoring his grumpiness. “Good morning to you too, baby. I slept great! Thank you for asking,” you answer him in a deadpan tone. Nathan rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah yeah, good morning. I slept, too. Now get that thing off my dick!” You watch him thrust his hips in the air for emphasis and you struggle not to laugh. “Eager, are we?” you say with a grin as you turn towards him. “Get. That thing. OFF. Of my dick!” You shake your head, giggling, and sit up next to him. The key to the cage dangles between your breasts. His eyes follow the small metal key, transfixed. As you look at him, ready to make another quip, it dies on your tongue. Nathan looks conflicted, like he doesn't know if he really wants you to unlock the cock cage or not. “You know, I enjoyed this a lot. I might use this as a punishment again.” His eyes flicker up to your face, a hopeful look in his gaze before he shakes it off. “Can you quit stalling?” “Calm down. So impatient,” you shush him, your fingers playing with the key, “Just relax. You’ve been so good. Don’t ruin it.”

You lean forward with the key in hand and slowly insert it into the lock. With one turn of your hand and a resounding click the lock falls open. Carefully you pull the cage off of his cock and put it to the side. “There we go. All done.” Nathan breathes a sigh of relief and looks down at his dick. “Fucking unreal,” he mumbles, reaching for his length but hesitating. He looks up at you questioningly. You smile in response, “You can touch yourself, baby.”

As soon as the words leave your lips his hand wraps around his cock. He gives it a few cursory tucks and curses. “That’s it,” you coo, “Keep going. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? You can come whenever you want.” His cock swells quickly, his hand stroking and squeezing at a rapid pace. You’re worried he’s going to hurt himself, the way his face is scrunched up you’re not sure if he is feeling pleasure or pain or maybe both. His cock is hard and heavy in his hand and you watch with bated breath how pre-cum keeps oozing out with every twitch of his length. “You’re doing so good, baby. Come for me.” Nathan nods furiously. “Yes. Fuck- thank you thank you thank y-” With a groan he cums, his seed spilling all over his hand.

It takes a moment before he blinks at you, breathing heavily. “Fuck, that was-” “Good?” “Fucking amazing, actually.” You laugh and lean over him. “I’m glad you’ve had your fun but we’re not done yet.” Nathan’s brow furrows in confusion. You place a feather-light kiss on his lips and hum. “I still want to get my mouth on your cock, baby. You can come for me again, can’t you?” A sly grin spreads across his lips. “What do you think?” he answers cockily. You raise an eyebrow and look at him sternly. “What was that?” Nathan bites his lip as you settle on top of him.

“Yes Mommy.”

“Good boy.”

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman/reader #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman fanfic #fran-writes

53 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictionalnbcyoa · 1 year

Text

It'll Be Fun

Notes: This is the first post of the Nathan Bateman Choose Your Own Adventure for the Youvebeenlivingfictional 5k Follower Celebration! Just a heads up about a couple of things:

All CYOA paths are complete. If you hit the gif that says it's the end, it means that it's the end.

There is one (1) spicy chapter within one of the paths. If you cannot see the chapter, you need to update your content settings. Find the instructions to do that here.

This is not beta-read. As always.

The links to other paths are at the bottom of posts

If there are any broken links, please let me know!

Warnings: Cursing; angst; fluff

Summary: You’ve heard stories about how Bateman…Operates. You’ve only met him in person once, shortly after you’d been hired as Chief Knowledge Officer. It had been brief, perfunctory: Hi, how are you, happy to be here, love it, thanks for the money, enjoy your plane and helicopter ride back to your fucking remote, subterranean, in-fucking-sane facility you billionaire hermit whackadoo—

You had an idea of what this would be like, of course, but the reality is…Absolutely insane. You’re tired, you’re sweaty, and you are so, so happy that you fucking packed light. You shift your bag on your shoulder, glancing around. Follow the river. Follow the fucking river? You’re not a goddamn girl scout. You pull in a deep breath, then let out a relieved sigh as you finally spot the house…Up a rather steep incline. Son of a bitch.

You puff out an irritated breath as you bend forward a touch, resting your hands on your knees.

“Ohhhkay. Okay,” You mutter, straightening. Fuck, you hate team building. Hell, you hate it even more when it’s in such limited quantities of people—this way, there's nowhere to hide, you're easily missed. It’s barely half the C-suite: just you, Bateman, the CFO and the CMO.

It’ll be fun.

Bateman had slurred that across the phone on a status nearly two months ago. It’ll be fun.

The CFO and CMO had signed on enthusiastically; you’d been a little more hesitant to speak up, but had reluctantly agreed—and been met by an cheery, Yeaaah! from Bateman. Maybe that should’ve spurred you to be just a touch more excited, but you’ve heard stories about how Bateman…Operates. You’ve only met him in person once, shortly after you’d been hired as Chief Knowledge Officer. It had been brief, perfunctory: Hi, how are you, happy to be here, love it, thanks for the money, enjoy your plane and helicopter ride back to your fucking remote, subterranean, in-fucking-sane facility you billionaire hermit whackadoo—

Beyond that, you’ve hardly interacted with him outside of meetings, briefings, emails, what have you. You do a good job. You get your shit done. He doesn’t call you out because you've never given him a reason to.

You huff softly as you begin a long hike up the fairly steep incline. Alright. Pace yourself. No need to fuck your knees or ankles or anything up right before you meet your boss—

You wince as your foot slips, your knee skimming against a sharp rock. You groan, looking down and eyeing the throbbing spot. It hasn’t torn your leggings, but you’re willing to bet the skin’s a little torn under there. Damnit. You push on, righting your footing. Come on. Arrive in one piece. You don’t want the fricking sun to go down before you get there, and you really don’t want them to have to come looking for you.

(Though if you’re being honest, you’re not sure that Bateman would go out of his way to send out the search party. You can see the article on Wired now—BlueBook Chief Knowledge Officer Gets Eaten By Bear On the Way to Corporate Weekend Retreat. Said Bateman, “She knew she’d have a hike through challenging terrain. She should’ve brought her bear repellent. Frankly, we can’t tolerate that kind of narrow-minded unpreparedness at BlueBook. We’re already looking to hire her replacement. Our front-runner has climbed Everest.”)

You snort to yourself at the thought. You can practically hear Bateman saying it—with that damnable smug curl to his lips; you can see his hand drawing out of his pocket to adjust his glasses; to pass his hand over his closely shaved head, his palm loosing a rasping little shush against his cropped hair; his shoulder shrugging dismissively before he impatiently waves the reporter on to their next question. Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t put it past him. You’re only useful to Nathan as long as you suit his needs. You’re certain that if your visions for the company didn’t align with his, if you didn’t fall in line with what he wants for BlueBook, he’d drop you without a second thought.

It would only be right, of course. It’s his company, not yours.

You come to another stop once you reach the top of the hill, bracing your hands on your lower back and giving it a bit of a stretch. Fuck. You need a shower. A long, hot shower. You straighten up, and are set to go full steam ahead to Bateman’s when you hear your name called. You go still, dread trickling into your chest, your eyes squeezing shut. Maybe you can pretend you didn’t hear him?

But you’re not on some crowded city street, or office hall, and you’ve stilled for too long. You turn, slapping on a smile at the sight of the CFO, William Ellis, at the bottom of the steep hill. You force a smile, raising a hand to wave. You’re fully intent on turning back around and heading toward the house, but he calls out, “Mind giving me a hand with my bags?”

Yes, you do mind. You’re not a fucking bellhop. You don’t want to help him with his bags—you don’t even want to be here. You want to stomp back to that field and camp out until that helicopter comes back to take you home.

Instead, you turn around, measuring and bracing your steps as you trudge back down the hill.

“Damn good luck running into you.”

It's the third time he says it, though he’s run out of breath more and more as he did. Ellis is a short, stout Englishman. His typically fair, clear skin is ruddy and red from exertion. It probably doesn’t help that his voice seems to come from his nose, and is pushed out of the narrow purse of his lips with his rarefied Oxbridge snobbishness. “Sure,” Is all you offer now. The first time, you’d said Isn’t it; the second, you’d chuckled lightly, offered, Guess so. Maybe if your responses become monosyllabic, he wouldn’t bother. You shift your bag on your shoulder, moving Ellis’ duffle bag from one hand to the other as you deftly avoided the rock that you’d slipped on before.

“Nice of Bateman to have us along,” He adds.

“Yep.”

“Don’t get to see much of the old sport these days.”

The Old Sport. Christ. This man is one off-white jacket, gin rickey, and Dead Man’s float away from being an F. Scott Fitzgerald character.

“Well, that’ll happen,” Is all you offered in turn. You fight the urge to drop William’s duffel on the doorstep as you approached the house. Instead, you still, watching William approach and draw his phone out to check the instructions.

“Now let’s see…” He mutters. “The instructions did say that the…Keycard pad was around here…Somewhere…”

“William Ellis.”

You glance over as a robotic voice draws your attention to a keypad. It's just another moment before it instructs:

“Please approach the console and face the screen.”

William wanders closer, eyes still set on his phone. You bite your lip, choking down a laugh as a light flashes, taking a picture of the top of William’s head.

“Take your keycard.”

You step closer as William took his, and the same robotic voice said your name. You step in front of the camera, forcing your face into a neutral expression.

“You ought to smile a bit,” William chuckles. You tighten your hands on the straps of his duffel as irritation pulses through you. You have half a mind to drop this duffel bag right on his foot—knowing full well that his work and personal laptops are in here. Instead, you reach out, taking the card from the slot.

“You may now enter the residence.”

William doesn’t hold the door open for you. He doesn’t even gesture for you to be the first one in. You’ve already had enough of this man’s shit—and you haven’t even seen Bateman, or the CMO. You don’t want to see them in this state anyway. The CMO, Dan Marshall, is one of your better workplace friends. And Bateman—well. Either way, you’re not sure you’re ready to see him yet, for all of the hell he’s already put you through with this little hike.

“So? Shall we?” William nods down the hall.

Shall you?

Go With William to Find Nathan and Dan

Go Off On Your Own and Find Your Room

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #BlueBook Chief Knowledge Officer Gets Eaten By Bear On the Way to Corporate Weekend Retreat #Base Post

169 notes · View notes

apesarecuul · 28 days

Text

Fic idea under the cut Idk I’m ranting

Dave York x Reader x Nathan Bateman

Dave York x Nathan Bateman x Reader

Dave was hired to take out Bateman. For the first time in a long time Dave has to actually do a deep dive. It takes him weeks to do something that would usually take him two days at most but finally he finds it. At this point he’s not killing Bateman for the money. He’s killing him because who the fuck lives by themselves on an island? Then again his isolation made it harder for Dave to find him so maybe it served its purpose. He’s eventually able to pack a duffle bag and start heading towards the island. (Which he had to cash in a favor for. Another reason he wants to kill Bateman) he tries to stay calm but every step he takes isn’t going the way it’s supposed to. The CEO of Asshole corp has decided to build most of the mansion underground the only entrance being what looked like a sauna which took him forever to find. The information he was given didn’t mention that the Bateman had created his own security measures. Which meant it took Dave twice as long to actually get inside. He almost gets spotted by a camera on the corner. It’s safe to say Dave is pissed. Pissed isn’t good for completing a task you need absolute focus for. Unfortunately for Dave, Nathan’s a paranoid curious ass and the entire island is littered with cameras. Nathan spots him in one of the monitors before Dave is fully down the stairs. Nathan is seconds away from putting the home on lockdown. What stops him is the fact that his stupid lovely little assistant is prancing around his kitchen making dinner. If he puts the home on locked down then you’re locked in with a stranger who he assumes is there to kill him. Nathan fights with himself. He should protect himself first. He can’t lock you in with a killer. Dave pauses at the sight of a pretty thing like you in Bateman kitchen. Nathan was supposed to live alone. Dave falters as you bend over to reach into the freezer, your skirt riding up exposing your boyshort panties. His eyes widen as he feels blood rush south. Now was absolutely not the time. Nathan notices it too. He clinches his fists. He’s begun to panic now.

Not a fic obviously but I had to get it out there.

#dave york x reader #nathan bateman/reader #fic ideas #possible dead dove

7 notes · View notes

dumbgothbunny · 2 years

Text

Bless @loki-hargreeves for my nathan asks. I smoked some weed and wrote up some shit

Okay but Nathan keeps a cage for bunny reader- but he orders a bigger one, and he lets his sweet bunny personalize it all to her liking. It’s lavender colored, a soft pastel. Pastel blue and pink fairy lights and iridescent sheer fabric are interwoven through the bars. Instead of a hard flooring there’s pillows and plush fuax fur blankets. You’ve got a few of Nathan’s shirts and a pair of his boxers (you’d stolen them from his clothes pile- you can’t help it he just- smells so nice) all nice and built up It’s your perfect little space. Just for you.

Nathan buys you a Polaroid camera. You begged and begged and he told you he could get something better, but you insisted the girls in the videos you watched had them and they were so cute. It’s pastel blue. He even took care in buying you colorful trimmed film packs. You’ve got a few pinned up in your crate- photos of you and Nathan hung with care.

At first you try to sleep there, but you don’t last a night. The first night you’re with him there’s a big scary storm and you’re so badly frightened that you pass out as a giant bolt of lightening flashes and thunder rattles the house. Nathan luckily is there to catch you. He sighs and takes you to his room. He pets your ears as you come too, shaking his head. “Such a scared little bunny.”

He totally lets you cling to him all night, his fingertips gently stroking the patches of fur along your sides and underboob. Sometimes when the thunder is loud you flinch, making him coo to you.

The stormy season isn’t letting up- he decides to try something with you. He’s got you straddling his lap, hands on his chest. “Just open up bunny. Like we kiss.” You nod, doing as he says. “Now when I inhale this in your mouth take a deep breath and hold it.

You cough and sneeze and it’s so cute. He does it a few more times, tears rolling down your cheeks from coughing. And then you’re relaxed- the storm no longer bothering you. However Nathan discovers that weed not only makes you silly, but also very horny. He’s not had sex with you, but he has been cuddling and petting and kissing you. He’s slowly teaching you things, and finding out things about himself along the way.

Nathan can be sweet- but he’s still Nathan. He gets angry when you act out- he will punish you and he will take it seriously. He has a quick temper, especially when working.

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman could fist my asshole in half #bunny!reader #nathan bateman/reader #nathan/reader #oscar issac #ex machina

95 notes · View notes

thedarkcoven · 8 months

Text

Sorry, it was taking so damn long. I still don't know whats going on with Tumblr. It's not bringing up the other editor for me and it keeps telling me it cant save drafts or post them even when I export it from something else. I hope you're able to read it and I hope you like it <3 ^w^ Again sorry it took so long and I had to post it elsewhere !! @lunar-ghoulie

#thedarkcoven #thedarkcoven writing #nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman.reader #nathan bateman/reader #nathan bateman request #thedarkcoven 1000 follower celebration #thedarkcoven 1000 follower requests #thedarkcoven ghoulie request

7 notes · View notes

the-witheredroses · 5 months

Text

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.)

3K notes · View notes

lizispunkk · 7 months

Text

#miguel o’hara blurbs #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #nathan bateman x reader #orestes x reader #poe dameron x reader #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

1K notes · View notes

eyelessfaces · 9 months

Text

wake up babe user eyelessfaces dropped a new oscar isaac characters alignment chart

1K notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 10 months

Text

Three Years Masterlist

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only

Summary: He’s shorter than you thought he’d be.

Nathan Bateman isn’t unattractive, or short, even, he’s just…Shorter.

Of all of the things that you thought you’d feel about Nathan Bateman’s visit, surprised wasn’t what you thought would be first. Shit-scared, sure. Insanely nervous, absolutely. Surprised by his height? Not on your list.

You glance over at Jenn to find her tipping her chin up, slapping on her I Should Be On the Cover of Forbes smile. It’s the smile that’s brought every other investor on board. It’s the smile that’s brought on every single team member in the company. Now, you can only hope that it’ll bring Nathan Bateman into her coffers.

Proposal

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

Year One (II)

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #Three Years

209 notes · View notes

midgardian-witch · 8 months

Note

casings by ethel cain has so much nathan angst potential😵‍💫

I absolutely agree, anon!

I did want to write a little smth inspired by that. Not sure I managed to get the angst across as much as I would have liked but at this point I've been working too long at this and if I keep editing it will only get worse 😅

(Not) Good Enough

relationships: Nathan Bateman/Reader, Nathan Bateman/his fuckbots

AO3

"F-fuck. You're so tight. You’re fucking milking me."

This was a terrible idea from the start. You should have never opened those live feeds.

Nathan always went to bed extremely late, usually stuck working on the latest update for something BlueBook related or something for his latest personal project. Meanwhile you were lying in bed, unable to sleep. So you crawled over to Nathan's desk, because of course that workaholic would keep a desk in his bedroom, and logged into his computer.

And then you opened the live feeds.

Knowing it is one thing but seeing it with your own eyes? That hurt more than a dagger through the heart.

While you were lying in bed waiting for Nathan to join you, he was busy bending his latest android in two and ramming his dick into her synthetic pussy.

The sight would have been hot at some point, earlier into or even before your relationship. Now it just reminds you that you're not enough, never enough.

You need a certain type of confidence when you're in a relationship with Nathan Bateman. It's not easy when the man you love is building androids in his basement that look like either supermodels or pornstars. And then fucks them into oblivion for their test run.

(Ok, not his basement. His remote research facility in the middle of nowhere that he built himself and in which you both live in. Small difference.)

And it’s a certain type of cruelty when the man you love tells you not to worry, that he loves you, that you are all he needs and wants, and then he leaves to fuck his android with bigger boobs, a bigger ass and clearer skin a few rooms down.

You had discussed it beforehand, of course. Him fucking his androids was no secret even before you got together.

"They aren't human, more like a sex toy really," or so was his reasoning.

You knew what you were getting into. But it chips away at you slowly nonetheless. And while you know that you shouldn't compare yourself to the perfect little robots Nathan builds you can't stop yourself.

It's exhausting having to fight your own thoughts.

You've tried your best to be a good partner, to support him in any way you can, to please him with everything you have. You stopped counting the times you've snuck under his desk to suck his cock, to keep it warm for him while he works. Of course an android doesn't walk away from that with aching knees and a hurting jaw. No, they are perfect. And you're not.

You've tried to talk to Nathan about your growing fears, your doubts and anxiety. In his Nathan-ness he tries his best to reassure you:

"Do you really think I would keep you around if I didn't need or want you here?"

Nathan Bateman; truly a man of tact, empathy and emotional intelligence. You used to enjoy the snarky banter with him, to tease him until he finally showed even an ounce of emotion, of affection. Now it's just another thing that leaves you drained and unsatisfied.

With the perfectly pitched moans of his newly developed fuckbot as your background music you can feel yourself go numb. You're trapped, the sounds and sights of Nathan pounding into this nameless female figure looping over and over again.

With a start you wake up from your nightmare. You haven't heard from Nathan at all since you left. Instead your own mind doesn't let you rest even if the man you used to love doesn't care about you enough to look for you.

You still mourn your relationship, or at least how your relationship could have been. If you would have been more understanding, if he would have listened more. The what ifs are no comfort as you cry yourself to sleep at night.

At this point you're sure there is something wrong with you, to cry over a man like Nathan. But at least he can't see you like this. And he will never know the heartache he caused.

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman/reader #ask answered #ex machina #fran-writes #ethel cain anon

70 notes · View notes

spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight

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

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

general contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, illusions to emotionally abusive parents, nathan has low self-esteem and is avoidant af, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, fluff, angst, pining (nathan’s a simping asshole), eventual smut

AN: for the love of god please be nice to me, this is my first (and probably only) time writing for Nathan. i’ve only seen the movie once. tags will get more specific by chapter.

oscar characters masterlist

MAIN STORY (current wc: 20,412)

Docile Pyre

A Hoard of Cupids*

The Tempest

Prenups, Chess & Puppy Dog Eyes*

To Atomize*

THE CONTINUATION (current wc: 4,555)

Family Dinner (3 months post Ch:5)

Tiana (3 months post Family Dinner)

The Indoctrination of Nathan Bateman

Planted*

Little Hamlet*

STOLEN MOMENTS

Memory Lane (1.5 years post Ch:4)

The Move

HEADCANONS

Getting a pet

let me know if you’d like to be tagged (must be 18+)

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #not sfw #arson writes #in plain sight

458 notes · View notes

apesarecuul · 22 days

Text

I’ll try my hand at actually committing to write a full length fan fic tmmr. Wish me luck y’all. Might be bad. Going to be based off of this post. Might take a while.

Update: this shit is hard as fuck. I have an even bigger amount of respect for fan fic writers. Not sure when this will be ready to be an official draft. I had to file a report about something recently so there’s definitely going to be a pause in this.

#fanfic #maybe #nathan bateman #dave york #nathan bateman/reader #dave york/reader

2 notes · View notes

dumbgothbunny · 2 years

Text

@lovely-cryptid made the point that bunnies play dead when they’re scared and all I can think about is Nathan Bateman with a Bunny Hybrid reader (maybe he’s gifted to her by one of his colleague who is working on hybrid genetics) and him trying to take care of her. Once he returns home (let’s say he was told all of this while at conference for blue book) she’s there in a big crate and she’s terrified. he scares her at first so she plays dead in her crate or in his arms when he tries to take her out (it’s the size a human can barley comfortably sit in) he’s like “you’re obviously breathing.” 😂

I like the idea with him and a bunny reader idk 🫣

#bunny!reader #nathan bateman #Nathan Bateman/reader #Oscar Isaac #oscar issac/reader

47 notes · View notes

alwaysmicado · 3 months

Text

predator & prey

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

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

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

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

“Time to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Nathan only ever wears them for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

Your time is up. He’s coming for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do not stop.

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

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

He’s on you – you’re free.

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

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

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

Go on, act like you don’t want it.

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

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

What a sick girl you are.

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

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

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

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

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

Your fate is sealed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nathan’s cock is so fucking hard it hurts.

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

It’s beautiful. Chaotic. Intimidating. Soothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only he hadn’t underestimated you.

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

It all happens so fast.

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

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

Oh, what have you done, little bunny?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re flying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poor little bunny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit, that’s it. Fuck. Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep pressure on it, okay?”

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

“Can you walk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not physically at least.

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

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

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

– – –

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

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

He is trying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it too much? Did I do some–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at yourself.”

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

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

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

Sweet release. You can already taste it.

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, how about a bath?”

– – –

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s breathtaking.

“Pretty amazing, huh?”

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

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

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Hm?”

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

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

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

“Hmm.”

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

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

– – –

Thank you for reading 🖤 ➝ check out my masterlist

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

299 notes · View notes