#sorry i love the idea that he has creepy little spider lashes

[doctor-loboto]

stereotypical "Loboto never got lobotomized and works for the psychonauts" AU, he's a really powerful psychic but is also SUPER neurodivergent and only does astral projection missions because he's so emotionally sensitive, otherwise he lives his best life as the resident dentist and maxillofacial surgeon at the Motherlobe (he was basically raised in a really well-funded psychiatric hospital/halfway house for psychic children and has consistently had a dentistry interest, so dental school was a goal he could work towards)

[writefightandflightclub]

Wicked Game (Nathan Bateman x reader)

Summary: Interning for an eccentric billionaire certainly makes for some unusual moments. On this occasion, you are woken by Nathan blasting Wicked Game (listen to the song for the vibe) in the middle of the night. You’re just doing your best, honestly, not to fall in love with him. It should be an easy task, but there’s something about this sexy, robot-fucking oddball giving you a dancing lesson that has you wanting to go all-in. 

Author’s note: this is a very quick one inspired by an ask from @spider-starry​ about Nathan teaching reader to dance. I went for mildly creepy rather than cute vibes, idk (Nathan is odd but captivating, after all). But I wanted to (try and) recapture just a little of the vibe from the original dance scene. 

Warnings: TEEN. Potential spoiler from the movie. Blood, injury, mention of prior wound and scars, swearing, mentions of alcohol. Mild sex reference. Shirtless Nathan is a warning. Nathan is a warning in himself. Dancing. 

GIF: @cracked​

The noise. That god awful noise. What is it?

Your hand reaches out from beneath your duvet to flick on the lamp, and you peel one eye open at a time, groaning softly beneath the blanket before peeling that down from your eyes too.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

Is it...? No, it can’t be.

You had learned to expect the unexpected, while interning with Nathan, but this? This takes the biscuit.

Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game is blaring through the speakers in your bedroom at the ungodly hour of - you squint at your phone by your bedside- 2 am.

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)

You peel the blanket down a little further and slam your fists down to your sides in aggravation, the assault on your senses an unwelcome departure from slumber.

“Nathan fucking Bateman,” you curse under your breath, lying there huffing and sighing, your body as stiff and tense as a board as you let the song play out.

It finally ends and you burrow back into your pillow, and yet, Chris Isaak seems to have other ideas; the song just starts up all over again.

You listen to it three times through. Text him “Nathan!” three times to no avail. And then, you finally chuck off the duvet and track out through the darkness, as intrepid as you are angry,  into the main living space.

He’s probably drunk again, but honestly, you brace yourself because you never quite know what you’re going to walk in on where Nathan is concerned.

The sight which befalls you is surreal, and a little creepy, to say the least.

Nathan is arm-in-arm with Kyoko, shirtless and barefoot. The robot is dressed in a little slip set. At first, your reaction is to shield your eyes, in case he’s banging her - or, about to.

At second glance, you realise that he’s... dancing?!

This is some next-level aloof billionaire eccentricity, right here. 

Nathan is sweeping Kyoko around the floor, in an oddly impressive display of grace and footwork, his strong arms and muscled torso poised and proud as he easily manipulates her around the floor. The whole “dance floor” is bathed in a red, softly pulsing light, which only emphasises the contours of him. 

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you

You fully intend to interrupt so that you can simply get him to turn it down and clamber back to bed, and yet, you are somewhat captivated. By the bizarreness of the situation, as well as the movement of him, lithe and powerful and -dare you say it- majestic. By the intensity in his dark, focused stare. The way he moves is seductive, sensual, enthralling, and you can’t help but watch him from the shadows. 

“Wanna dance?” he says with his back to you, meaning he already saw you a good minute ago and didn’t let on. What’s more, he says it so casually, as if any of this could be considered normal. (The billionaire you live with in an underground house has perfected an AI / human dance routine to Wicked Game, and he’s asking you to join him at 2 am? Yes, exactly what you expected from your summer, naturally) .

Clearly, Nathan saw you standing there ogling. Oh, brilliant. Like you needed to provide him with any further evidence that you’re attracted to him.

You shake those thoughts out of your head as Nathan dips Kyoko with one arm, in a move that looks far too well-rehearsed, and try to remember why you’re stood there in your pajamas in the first place.

All you can muster is to flap your hands next to your ears and yell “the noise!” over the music, as the song loops all over again.

“Sorry. Not used to having people around. Forgot the speakers hook up to your room.”

That’s an unlikely oversight for a man so detail oriented, you reckon. 

“Wanna dance?” he asks again, with far too much normalcy. “Tear up the dance floor with me?”

“Why?” you ask, realising he has already succeeded in distracting you -miraculously quickly- and that you’re longer on track to berate him for the noise.

“Kyoko’s too good. You’ll make mistakes,” Nathan says plainly, releasing Kyoko’s grip and rubbing her arm, whispering to her to step aside. Then, he extends the frame of his arms in your direction, as if he might cradle you against his shirtless body next. 

In case you were wondering how you differ from Kyoko, the blood pumping around your body at the sight of him like that certainly serves as a reminder, that you are very much human, and that his body can affect yours it ways it never can hers. 

What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you 

Maybe this is a dream. You certainly feel like you’re sleepwalking, as your feet travel towards him of their own accord, and the red light and the deep, slurring croon of the music give everything an other-worldly feel. 

“Are you drunk?” you ask as his arms slot around you.

“No more than usual,” he answers, positioning you closer to him, tucking you into him and his arms forming a perfect, sturdy frame around you. You’ve never been this close to him, and quite frankly, it’s a little more intoxicating than you bargained for. “Are you?” he asks as you practically swoon against him, losing your footing already.

“No,” you say bashfully. “I just can’t dance.”

He ticks up a satisfied eyebrow, beginning to sway you gently against him to help you feel the rhythm. “Good. Routine’s getting a little samey with Kyoko. I like new variables in the equation.”

The proximity is making you nervous, but you wouldn’t move away from him for the life of you. Plus, despite his eccentricities, and somewhat intimidating, cool demeanor, Nathan somehow manages to put you at ease. Perhaps the surrealism of the situation helps with that too. You can almost pretend it isn’t happening. 

“So, when the chorus kicks in, you shimmy your hips like this,” he says, gyrating his hips expertly against you.

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)

“Oops,” you apologise, stepping on his toes already and fumbling your footwork. You are tripping over your own thoughts as well as your feet, and to be honest, you think you can be forgiven, as this hot man presses up against you. 

“That’s okay,” he smiles - not softly, but like a hyena-  an improvident glint in his eyes. “Then you spin...” he says, coaching you through the moves... “and... pose.”

You move through the steps with trepidation, and when you’ve rotated through the spin, twirling beneath the fingers of his raised hand he tugs you back into his chest. 

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)

“How’s this?” you ask, self-consciously winding your hips in time, as his hand slips subtly further down your back. 

“Good, honey,” Nathan praises, and you think you might burst into flames. 

With you

You can’t help but trace your gaze languidly over his chest. Over his muscles. Over his smoothness. Over the deep, ridged scar where -or so you hear- one of his AIs stabbed him in the chest last year. You have to resist reaching out to smooth your fingers over it. In fact, you have to resist reaching out with your lips to kiss it better, so help you.

This song, this atmosphere, his body heat, are making it difficult for you to keep your... urges in check. 

His bare skin is warm and solid beneath your hand. His eyes are intense and boring into you, all long lashes and deep dark brown beneath his glasses. His eyes are the colour of earth, and there is more than you can fathom buried in their depths. The way he’s looking at you makes you want to dig. To get to the bottom of him, but you feel like you could fall so deep into the pit of him and still never solve him. 

Even in this moment, you fall a little deeper. Deep enough that you might not be able to clamber back out. 

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

Then, he dips you, like he did Kyoko, his broad hand firmly supporting the arch of your back as your arm clings to his neck, his other arm tugging up your thigh to wrap around his waist. His lips hover just inches from yours, that hot, muscled body over you leaving you breathless. You can feel the latent potential of him as his muscles ripple to hold you in position.

You gulp and look up at him, completely helpless in the face of your desire now. Your desire is as red as the glow cast throughout the room. If he kissed you now, you’d be done for. Hell, you already feel done for. The bare flesh of your thigh is pressed against him, skin-on-skin, and he’s warm and taut and feels powerful up against you.

“You always look so cute ‘n’ smell so good when you go to bed?” Nathan asks casually as he holds you, and the realisation that you’re sexy-ballroom-dancing with your shirtless, robot-fucker of a boss while wearing skimpy sleepwear suddenly dawns on you. (Yes; more of Exactly How You Imagined Your Summer Going.). 

Your lips part and you expel a small, involuntary whimper. Of desire, of tension, of nervousness. 

The scenario appears to dawn on Nathan around the same time too, his throat bobbing around a hard swallow as that little noise you just made registers, his lips parting and his pink tongue skimming out to whet his plush lips.

“Different to dancing with a robot?” you ask, trying desperately to puncture the sexual tension before you fall all the way into his eyes, and, instead, your voice comes out far more fucking wanton and husky than you’ve ever heard it. You are nothing but breath and lust in his arms as his eyes tell you that yes, you’re different. That you make him feel... different.

But you both hold back, even though Nathan’s eyes are practically teeth, devouring you. 

I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

In a final attempt to re-calibrate and hoist yourself out of this pit, you launch your body to standing of your own volition, and your face collides spectacularly with Nathan’s.

“Ow,” you each say at the same time, your forehead having smashed against Nathan’s nose and lip as you rose up a little too eagerly. 

Red appears. 

Well, that’s one way to divert attention away from your burgeoning desire, you suppose.

“Shit! Nathan, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your hands flying to your face in regret. “Are you okay?” you fuss, but he simply looks down at his hand in surprise -no, more like... neutral interest- when it comes away from his face red. And then he... smiles.

“You’re bleeding,” you say in shock, wondering if he still hasn’t registered that fact properly, but Nathan simply grins more widely at you, like a hyena after a kill. 

He grins at you with red-stained teeth, and he’s at once grotesque and captivating.

“Shit. They tell me robots are dangerous,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “ and here I am ballroom dancing with a human and bleeding all over the fucking floor.” 

He’s still smiling, and for some bizarre reason, you begin to smile along with him. As if any of this is normal. 

“What’s so fucking funny?” you ask him, searching his intriguing eyes. 

You never did like normal anyway. 

He simply smiles lopsidedly, blood still coating his lips. “Kyoko’s never done that.”

Something tells you he likes the new variable in his equation. 

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Nobody loves no one.

Nathan grabs your hand, and you think he might about to ask you another question.

He opens his red mouth and sucks in a breath.