Research and Development

by DittyWrites

Summary:

Alone in your lab as you work on the success of your latest project, you find yourself trapped by none other than Doctor Otto Octavius, alias Doc Ock, who seeks your work for his own ends. Confronted by such a threat, you are quick to find that there is more to the man that you could have anticipated and it leads you down an avenue that you're not certain will be easy to come back from.

Notes:

This is my first ever foray into writing for Marvel (Venom movie aside) and it turns out all I needed was the modern renaissance of newfound appreciation for Spider Man 2 Doc Ock and his glorious tits. I apologise for nothing, except to my friend Liam who absolutely knew this was coming despite my denials that I would not write Doc Ock smut.

Please enjoy and, as always, comments and kudos are loved and appreciated xx

Chapter 1: Part 1: Research and Development

One of the few benefits of agreeing to take the late shift was the ability to bend the rules of the lab to allow yourself a small snack without having to traipse to the staffroom. The chemical formulas which were flitting through the brightened screen before you were easy to ignore as you focus on popping another piece of fruit into your mouth.

The new metal polymers which you had created and placed in development were designed to have a tensile strength which was over a thousand times more potent than steel. The only problem that remained was preparing the copyright for the materials in the name of Oscorp, hence you had agreed to take the late shift and ensure that all the necessary information was encrypted and downloaded onto the secure servers.

Wiping the edge of your fingers on your jeans, you pause to adjust the hem of the thin, dark t-shirt which you had thrown on early in the morning. Completing the ensemble was a Oscorp-issued lab coat which all members of staff had to wear while working within the lab and the starchy fabric was comfortable against your skin as you lounged in your preferred seat before your workstation.

The flashing red of the clock to the side of your desk alerts you to the fact that it had just passed 2am and you stretch your arms overhead as you glanc up at the recently broken security camera. The fix was scheduled for the morning but that was long after your shift would end so you had designated it as a problem for someone else. The security turnover was scheduled for 3am but Davis was on tonight and it was common knowledge that he preferred to be home at 2am and would often leave early.

Besides, no one was foolish enough to try to steal from Oscorp.

A steady beeping from the monitor catches your attention as your gaze flicks back to the screen. The downloads were complete, and everything was now officially contained on a small memory disk which could be filed away in the depths of the most secure Oscorp basements, stored in locations which even you had no knowledge of.

Plucking the disk free of the computer, you place it into a protective case as an easy grin spreads its way across your lips. Satisfaction and pride swell in your gut as you address the small disk like an old friend.

“Not too bad, if I do say so myself.”

“I have to agree,” a looming voice called out from the darkened space at the back of the lab and you whirl around in open surprise to find that you are not alone as the voice continues, “and I can take it from here.”

The figure is slow to move but as two metal appendages break free of the darkness, they are quickly followed by another pair as they work in tandem to move the figure suspended between them. A sensation of pure panic jolts down your spine as you are confronted by the visage of former scientist and current super-criminal, Dr. Otto Octavious; better known as Doc Ock as the papers had long since dubbed him.

The metal of his tentacles glint in the low light of the lab and his dark slacks and black vest-top were mostly covered by a thick leather coat which was a little familiar as you had seen it many times on the evening news as the figure battled Spider Man and threw cars across streets as though they were little more than tennis balls.

Covering his eyes were the dark glasses which also featured as part of regular costume, rumoured to be necessary to protect his sensitive eyes from too much light, and his hands were also covered by leather gloves which hid his skin from view as he held out an expectant palm.

Your mouth hangs agape, too caught off guard to even yell, but adrenaline is quick to kick in as you snatch up the coffee mug from your desk and launch it in his direction. The throw is strong, but his tentacles are faster as one snaps forward to bat the mug away, sending it off to the side where it collides with the wall and smashes into tiny pieces with a resounding crack.

Undeterred, you pick up two of the trashy detective novels which you had been reading earlier in the day and proceed to throw those as well. The result is much the same as they are knocked away with little effort and a smirk curls at his lips at the admittedly pathetic efforts as his head tilts slightly.

“Come now, is such violence necessary.”

The realisation that you were physically powerless was like a wash of cold water and the stun lasts only a moment before you bolt. The exit is located to your right and your body breaks into an open sprint, breath coming in short bursts as the sound of metallic scraping alerts you to his movements behind you. Trying to flag down any security would be useless but if you could make it to the parking lot then you at least stood a chance of being able to escape using your car.

However, those dreams were cut short as a sudden grip around your ankle catches you mid-sprint and sends you clattering to the ground. The floor was hard beneath your body and the breath catches in your lungs as your chest takes the brunt of the force. Before you can even think, the grip on your ankle tightens and you glance back in time to see the tentacle before it pulls up and you find yourself hoisted suddenly into the air.

A short yelp escapes your lips as you are suspended in the air and your heart quickens as you find yourself brought face to face with Doctor Octopus himself. Even upside down, you can sense the amusement rolling off him in waves as he dangles you like a toy.

“Now, will you behave?”

The disorientation of your position is uncomfortable as the blood starts to rush to your head and creates a soft pounding which seems to mimic the beat of your heart. A tickle at your chin alerts you to the fact that your t-shirt has succumbed to gravity and is pooling around your armpits, exposing the black bra which you had elected to wear that morning.

Despite the roaring in your ears, a mild flush graces your cheeks as you struggle to move your weighted arms to pull it back down to cover yourself.

To your surprise, his lips purse for a moment and his head seems to tilt away from your body for a moment to allow you to fix yourself and you swear you catch a hint of embarrassment on his features as the tentacle lowers you to the ground. The move is slow and ensures that you have time to right your body as it is deposited on the flooring once more.

“I want the schematics for the metal polymer this department has been working on,” his voice is low and assured as his tentacles also lower him to the ground to allow him to stand on his own feet, “and access to the servers.”

Raising yourself to your feet, your legs are shaky for a moment before you steady yourself.

“I can’t access the servers.” You lie.

Moving quicker than you could have anticipated, his two upper tentacles snap forward and you gasp as they wrap around your upper arms to pin you into place. The coolness of the metal is clear, even through the fabrics of your t-shirt and lab coat and you shiver as you hope he buys your lies.

“You’re lying.” He states. “Oscorp would not allow an employee to work alone in such conditions without having certain accesses. There are protocols.”

“Oscor-”

“I created some of those protocols.” His tone lost some of its amusement and took on an almost chastising quality as he reminds you of who he was before his fall into criminality. “Surely a pretty young lady such as yourself remembers her training.”

The compliment did not go unnoticed and, despite your apprehension, you could not help the slight warmth that colours you at the words. Stuck before him, he stood a good few inches higher and his presence was almost overwhelming as the strength of his visibly thick body and clear confidence spoke of the power he held in this little exchange.

“Give me the codes.”

“I can’t. I’ll lose my job.”

A frown mars his face for a moment before it settles into a contemplative look.

“Loyal.” He nods, “I can appreciate that. But foolish. If you don’t give me the codes then I will take the disk and destroy everything else.”

“No!” The exclamation left your lips before you could stop it and his brow raises in response, “If I tell you the codes, will you leave my work alone?”

“So, you will betray Oscorp and give up the company to protect your work?”

Even through his dark glasses, you can feel the pierce of his stare and you meet his hidden gaze with a strange confidence.

“Yes.”

A soft hum escapes his lips as he contemplates your answer.

“Interesting. The codes?”

With only a little regret, you give him the codes and passwords necessary for him to access the server and watch with fascination as his two lower tentacles act independently of his body as they quickly type in the information necessary and start their own download.

His attention is still focused on you, and you squirm under his assessment until he finally speaks again.

“Your assistance in this matter is appreciated.”

“Go to hell.”

The retort is out before you can really consider it and regret washes through you at the easy disrespect, but it extinguishes quickly as he unleashes a soft laugh. The tentacles around your arm seem to loosen slightly as he ran a hand through his shock of brown hair, further messing up the loose strands.

“You’re spirited but foolish. Any sensible person would be cowering in fear, knowing who I am and what I have done. What I can do.”

His tone is conversational and, as the warmth of his voice washes over you, you can’t help your wandering mind as your eyes flit over his body. The leather jacket has fallen open more with his movements and it reveals his thick body; including the slight paunch of his gut as it sits over his waistband of his slacks. His tank top is covering the majority of his chest, but you can see the beginnings of his sparse chest hair as it pokes out from atop the dark material.

The roundness of his face is almost jovial as you flick your eyes across his jaw, focusing on his lips for a moment before pushing your eyes up. You wish his glasses were off so that you could see his expression, but your eyes continue up as they rove over the thick brown hair which sits messily atop his head with only the slightest flecks of grey peppering through it to show his age.

A frantic beeping from your workstation catches your attention and you pull your eyes from him with an embarrassed blink as you resign yourself to admitting that, yeah, he cut an attractive figure. The ease with which he was carrying himself plus the sheer masculine energy which was rolling off him in waves gave his figure an allure which was undeniable.

Focusing on his tentacles, you watch as they pack the information stolen from the computer, plus some documents which you had not seen them retrieving into a small, brown briefcase which would make their transportation much simpler. As much as you were still apprehensive, there was an echo of pride in your thoughts as you consider the fact that your work had been designated important enough to have warranted a theft from a known super-criminal.

Having gathered what he came for, a sense of uncertainty seemed to creep in the space between you as you remain in place, still pinned by his tentacles as he turns his head slightly to ensure that all of his newly acquired information is tucked away safely before turning back to you.

“Now,” one gloved hand came to rest on his hip as the other tapped at his exposed throat in a thoughtful gesture, “what is to be done with you?”

The fear which had been lurking below your bravado came back full force as you realise that if he chose to kill you then there was absolutely nothing which you could do to stop him. Your heart thuds in your chest as he moves closer to your position and the fingers which were tapping at his throat move to slip his sunglasses up, pushing them into his hairline and further displacing his hair.

His eyes were a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair, and you found yourself unable to look away from them and the shockingly human warmth which was reflected within. They were stunning and that, combined with the uncertainty of the situation, made your breath hitch.

A gloved hand came to rest on your chin as it grips the skin there gently to tilt your head towards him as he contemplates his next move.

Maybe it was the soft leather of the glove or maybe it was the remnants of your earlier appreciation of his physical state, either way, the soft moan which escapes from your lips as he moves your head is utterly indisputable.

Surprise colours his face as his hand drops from your chin and fire flashes across your face as you tactfully avoid his gaze, instead finding interest in your shoes and how clean the floor looks beneath them. Embarrassment claws at your senses, and you wiggle against the tentacles which are still wrapped around your upper arms.

The heat curling in your gut betrays you and you bite at your lower lip to keep it from happening again.

His fingers again find their way to your chin and your head is tilted up until you can meet his expression. His face is now only a few inches from your own and there is a distinctly confused look in his eyes as his head cocks to the side, questioning your intentions. For lack of a better term, it was almost cute how uncertain he appeared to be and it was enough to encourage you to throw caution to the wind.

Screw it, you whisper within your mind as you push your head forward and close the gap between you, pressing your lips against his own and feeling the slight dryness there. It’s barely a kiss and yet he pulls back like your lips had scorched him and understanding alights in his eyes as he takes in the interest which must be reflected within your own.

You have the grace to look apologetic, but your verbal apology is cut off as you watch his shock slip into uncertainty for only a moment before his composure slips back into place like a mask as heat springs into his dark eyes and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, I see.” He mutters and his gaze pierces your own as his gloved hands slip free of his pockets to curve around your hips, “You really are foolish.”

Any retort you could have made was cut off by the sudden assault of his lips upon your own as he took charge of your little exchange. His kiss is intense, the faint taste of smoke becoming clear against your tongue as he devoured you, and your groan is swallowed by him as his hands tighten against your hips and pull your body flush against him.

The heat of his body is immediate and consuming as the limited movement of your arms, the upper half still held in place by his tentacles, only allows you to slip your arms across his chest and press against the softness there as you grip his tank top in your hands.

With no effort at all, he continues your kiss as he pushes your body back until your upper half collides with the firmness of a nearby wall. The metal which had been wrapped around your arms releases you for only a moment before opening once again and planting themselves in the wall below your armpits, giving you a slight area to rest your arms as you continue to explore his covered chest.

With the new freedom, you move one of your hands up to loop one around the back of his head as your fingers delve into the surprising softness of his hair, pulling at some of the strands loosely as you rub your chest against his own.

He grunts slightly within your mouth as you tug at his hair, and he pulls free of your enough to nip at the side of your jaw as his chapped lips move down the side of your neck. Your hip is pressing against his groin, and you smile at the obvious hardness that you can feel confined there even you give a low whine as he kisses a particularly sensitive spot on the join between your neck and shoulder.

Your whine increases in volume as the warmth of his hands make themselves known against your bare stomach as he slips his hands up your t-shirt. Releasing his hair, you place your hand atop his and slip it up further so that his palm was resting over your right breast and you sigh as he takes the hint and tightens his grip, caressing the skin there in a none-too-soft grasp.

Following your lead, he continues to grope at your chest, and you moan in appreciation as your hands drop to the waistband of your jeans, fingers moving frantically as they struggle for a moment before releasing the button. Shuffling free of them, you can feel the growing wetness between your legs as your movements cause your thighs to rub together deliciously and the slight friction makes you bold as you slip your hands forward.

Ghosting across the prominent bulge at his groin, you feel his grip tighten almost painfully as he rolls your nipple between his calloused fingers but it is quick to pass as you unlatch his slacks and bring your hands back to his chest. Mimicking his movements, you pull at his tank top until it is freed from its tucked-in position and quickly delve your hands under the fabric.

His skin is hot below your touch and the roundness of his gut is soft beneath your fingertips as you stretch your hands up to his chest. The sparse chest hair tickles your fingers as your palms brush across his nipples and press at his chest, the skin soft and malleable below your grip as his teeth nip at your neck gently.

“Touch me.” You breath out, the words carrying across the near-silence of the lab and he grunts his acknowledgement as one of his hands disappears from your hips and places itself on your inner thigh.

Biting your lower lip, you hum out in appreciation as his hand lifts higher until the knuckles are brushing against the thin fabric of your panties and you cannot help but push down against him, encouraging him as he feels the willing moisture there.

“You’re certainly something, pet.” He growls out and the sudden change in tone makes fresh arousal spike through your gut as you curl your fingers into the soft skin of his chest again, nails no doubt leaving small crescent-shaped marks below the tank top as he continues, “It’s been a while.”

Not entirely certain if he’s speaking to you or himself, your musings are cut short as he slips two fingers past your panties are strokes a line across your slit before thrusting one finger within you. A squeal speaks past your lips, and he hesitates as his head removes itself from your neck to look you in the face once again, but his examination is interrupted as you catch his lips in your own as you grind your sex into his hand.

His fingers were thick and the stretch of them as he inserted a second one within your soaked core took your breath away. The pleasure from his ministrations was delightful and your body jerks in position every time his thumb grazes over your clit, the sensitive nub sending bolts of almost painful arousal through you as his fingers work themselves into a pleasant rhythm.

The tentacles below your armpits never waiver in their support and you find yourself clutching onto one of them as your other hand pulls at the fabric of his tank top with little care for the material as it is bunched beneath your grip.

Your orgasm catches you off-guard as his rhythm picks up pace quickly and his thumb comes to rest atop your aching clit as it rubs small circles around the sensitive nub. You cover your guttural groans by biting into the side of your hand as you press down into his talented hand, his digits slick with your arousal as you allow yourself to enjoy the waves of pleasure which were making your legs tremble as you rest your weight on his tentacles.

Relaxing your breathing, a sense of determination grips you as you meet his eyes and see the open lust which was affecting the warmth there, stoking it into pure heat. Stretching your hands down, you slip one hand within his slacks and past the waistband of his underwear. His pubic hair brushes your hand as you wrap your fingers around his hard length, pulling it free of its confines.

His gasp is offset by a heavy grunt as you run your hand along his cock, and glancing down, you are not too surprised to see that the thickness of his body extends to all parts of him. While not the longest you had even seen, it counted among the thickest and your mouth waters as you can imagine how it is going to feel.

“I want you to fuck me,” the words are muttered but certain as you stroke him with one hand, spreading the small bead of pre-cum at his tip to make your movements smoother, “and I want you to do it right here.”

His breathing is as hard as your own as he bucks slightly into your willing hand and his voice is hoarse as he responds.

“Very needy, pet, but as you wish.”

One of his tentacles springs to life and he issues a soft chuckle at your flinch, but the tentacle does little more than dip into the rear pockets of his leather jacket and pull free something that looks suspiciously like his wallet. It is hard to make out in the dim light of the room, but his hand disappears from your core as it holds out an expectant palm and the tentacle drops something small within it.

Glancing at his hand, you cannot help your look of surprise as you take in the condom wrapper which now lay in his palm. Bringing it quickly to his teeth, he rips the package open and pulls free the contents as you release him for long enough to allow him to roll it over his hard length.

Using his mild distraction, you take this opportunity to hook your fingers within your panties and pull them down past your thighs, allowing them to fall to the floor as you step out of the thin cotton.

You choose to view it as a thoughtful gesture and, even through your lustful haze, you feel a little foolish for having not even considered such things since he was a man like any other.

Well, almost.

His hands were quick to return to your waist as he lifts you from the ground slightly. The sudden show of physicality makes your breath catch in your throat and you groan in appreciation as you wrap your legs around his thick body; the tentacles giving your arms somewhere to balance your weight as you shudder in anticipation.

“Do it.” You groan, teasing his tip with your core as you push down to meet him.

Not needing to be told twice, he has the audacity to even give you a small, almost imperceptible wink as he tightens his grip of your hips and slams into you, the force of his thrust burying him fully as you unleash a small scream at the sudden onslaught.

It is everything you thought it would be and more as his thick length stretches you in the most delicious way, adding only a hint of discomfort to your pleasure as he starts to build up a rhythm within you. Each stroke sets your sense alight as he seems to brush your the most sensitive spots with no effort and your fingers curl against the leather of his coat as you pull him flush against your covered chest.

Despite the speed and quick rhythm of his thrusts, there is a gentleness there which surprises you as his hands are firm against your body but not punishing as you push back to meet his snapping hips. Your core is already sensitive from his talented fingers, and it doesn’t take much to bring you close to the edge again as the muscles in your legs flex and your fingers claw against him with a desperate edge.

His breathing is coming in short, sharp bursts as he continues to bury himself within you and he is vocal in his enjoyment as low grunts and moans spill from his lips; every sound making more pleasure swim through you at his obvious enjoyment of your body. A thin sheet of sweat is covering his forehead and you can smell the scent of sex and sweat in the air, only tinged by the leather of his coat.

The trembling of your thighs increases as you approach your peak and incoherent pleas spill from your lips as the tight band of arousal which had been building with your core snaps as you come. Heels digging into his lower back, you force him forward an inch as your head jerks forward to catch his lips in your own once again. The spasming of your walls around him as you devour his mouth seems to be enough to push him over the edge and he pushes himself in fully, his hands gripping tightly onto your hips as he pins you in position.

You can feel his cock twitch within you but his release is captured by the condom even as you squeeze around him, pulling him deeper as you ride out your orgasm around his thick length. Beneath your grip you can feel his body shuddering and whatever noises he was making are caught by your lips as your heels force his body flush against your own.

Remaining that way for a solid moment, you pull away to allow him to catch his breath as you struggle to control your own. Head swimming, you shake it slightly to right yourself as a satisfied smile crawls it way onto your lips and you unhook your legs from his waist and drop them steadily to the floor.

His movements were slow as one of his tentacles extended behind his body, moving towards your workstation as they deftly clutched something within their pincers and brought it before your eyes.

It was a box of tissues.

Plucking the box from the tentacle, you pry free a handful of tissues and use them to wipe at the mess between your legs as the man who inspired it carefully removed the condom from his own wilting length. His fingers reach out to pluck free a tissue as he tucked himself back within his slacks and deposited the used condom within the soft tissue, deftly wrapping it up before dropping it in a nearby wastepaper bin which was bolted down by the wall.

Your used tissues follow his own and as you move to bend down and pick up your panties and jeans, the tentacles below your armpits pull free of their position and the unexpected move makes you stumble forward. His hands are quick to grasp at your upper arms, keeping you from falling on your face but the sensation of his hands over the area where his tentacles had earlier gripped you made a low hiss of pain escape your throat.

“Did we hurt you?” His tone is hoarser than earlier but there is a sincerity in the words that makes you quick to refute his question.

“No.” You lie, “I just bruise easily.”

Even through the post-coital flush of his cheeks, you can see the disbelief which is playing in his eyes, but he accepts your answer for what it is.

“Hrm,” he made a noise in his throat, “regardless, this was an unexpected encounter. I appreciate both your help and,” he pauses to consider his words as you pull your jeans back on, “your time this evening. But I am curious what you will tell those who come to investigate my crime.”

“The truth.” Running a hand through the mess that was once your styled hair, you fix him with a challenging gaze which you can see spark fresh amusement in his expression, “That you appeared, held me captive while you stole what you needed and left. I have no idea how you gained the codes since you already had them.”

His laugh rings out across the quiet lab and there is genuine mirth in his tone as he took a step away from your position; all four of his tentacles following suit as they curl behind their master in a practised formation.

“You are good; not only were you able to create these wonderful metal polymers that I will be testing out within my own work, but you were able to distract a known criminal long enough to survive his madness.”

The praise was freely offered, and you accept it with pride.

Criminal or not, Doctor Otto Octavius was one of the leading scientific minds of his generation and his appreciation of brilliance had preceded him long before his descent into criminality.

“Maybe our paths will cross again.”

Having moved away from you as he spoke, he again offers a sly wink before pulling his dark glasses back over his eyes and disappearing into the shadows at the back of the lab, no doubt using the door there for a swift exit.

Now alone in the lab once more, an overwhelming flood of emotions ricocheted through you as you replay the events of the evening in your mind. Surprisingly, regret was not amongst them even as you press your thighs together and feel the pleasant ache that remained there.

Eyes dipping to the basket which held the evidence of your clandestine meeting with a wanted super-criminal, you make a quick note to carry the garbage out yourself to prevent any strange discoveries by whoever was landed with the morning shift.

Maybe our paths will cross again.

Standing in the silence of the lab and still enjoying the post-orgasmic glow that you had not experiences for a while, you truly hoped so.

Chapter 2: *Author Question*

I'm currently plotting out a very nsfw second part to this fic and I am curious on a few things and this seems like the best place to ask:

1) Do folk actually want a Part 2 or would y'all be happier leaving it where it is?

2) Is there anything specific you would like to see in a second part if you had the option? It will be nsfw as hell so keep that in mind.

2) Would people prefer a second part to have a simple happy ending or something more angsty? I was considering leaving it at a happy ending and tacking on the angst as like...a little addition if that makes sense? The ending will be the same so really I'm just asking about the angsty addition.

Thank you all xx

Chapter 3: Part 2: Cause and Effect

Notes:

As always, comments and kudos are loved and appreciated and I attempted to take as much feedback from part 1 as I could xx

The clink of your keys as you pull them from your bag is surprisingly grating and you grip them tightly to prevent any further noise. Work had been long and the thought of having the next two days off, combined with the knowledge that you had left your heating on earlier in the day, was like a blanket of comfort as you consider just how warm and inviting your apartment will be. Dinner had been finished earlier during your shift so all that remained now was a quick shower and maybe a night-cap to help the approaching sleep go down that much sweeter.

Opening your door, you close it behind you quietly and drop your keys into the nearby bowl as you shuffle free of your jacket. The apartment was silent, and it causes a frown to make thin lines across your forehead as you once again consider making a trip down to the pound and picking up a kitten. Just so you could have some company and something to look forward to coming home to.

The silence was a little deafening at times.

Humming along to some catchy pop tune which had been playing on the radio as you drove home, you step into the kitchen and immediately turn to open the fridge. Plucking free a half-eaten chocolate bar you had been saving for now, you clutch it to the thin fabric of your shirt with a smile as you turn back to face your kitchen table.

The soft thump of the bar as it slips free of your grasp and hits the floor goes unnoticed due to the volume of your yelp; your body physically jumping from the floor as you realise you are not alone in the small room.

Sitting at your kitchen table as though he belonged there was Dr. Otto Octavius; former scientist, wanted criminal, and leading figure of your inappropriate thoughts since your unexpected rendezvous in the Oscorp labs.

“Hello, pet.”

Heart thumping in your chest due to the sheer scale of your shock, you are barely able to squeak out a vague acknowledgement as you clutch as your chest with a clawed hand.

It had been just under a month since your tryst after his robbery of the lab and you had dedicated more time than was necessary to thinking about both the event and the man. A little research on your part had given you a greater insight into his history and you could not attempt to deny the slight jolt in your body every time his name appeared on the news or as part of some sensationalised Daily Bugle headline.

“Apologies for the fright.” Visibly holding back an amused smirk, he tapped his fingers on the cheap wood of your kitchen table, “It wasn’t intentional.”

“How did you get in here?”

Thinking of your door, you blurt out the question. Nothing had been out of place and you did not keep a spare key anywhere near your apartment entrance.

One of his metal arms springs to life, moving suddenly from behind his body and gesturing towards the window which decorated the wall behind him. The latch had broken on that window months ago but given that you lived four stories up in the building, it had not been a priority to fix since the chance of anyone getting in seemed extremely unlikely.

Or so you thought.

“Are you here to rob me? I don’t keep any of my work at home.”

The words spill from your lips before you can stop them and you bite at your lower lip as you try to keep your breathing under check.

“Do you see me as a common thief?”

His voice is harsh, and it makes you flinch. As much as you wanted to believe that he was not here to harm you, it was difficult to ignore his history of violence and you feel a fresh spike of fear in your chest.

Registering your flinch, his expression softens slightly and he covers the awkward pause by laying his hand flat against the kitchen table.

“Just finishing work?” His tone shifts to something almost conversational, and everything is so surreal that you simply answer him as though he were an old friend as your mind works itself into overdrive.

“Yeah, it was a long shift.” Unable to help yourself throwing the extra information out, you continue, “After you, uhh, “you pause, “robbed the lab, I was offered sessions with psychological services to ensure I was fit to return to work so I had to fill out some extra paperwork before I clocked out.”

“Oscorp does put on a good show of loyalty to its employees.”

“They also gave me a bonus since my compliance was said to have saved the company money and resources.” At the word compliance, you allow a slight lilt to enter your tone so that your meaning was clear.

He chuckles openly at that and you can see the white of his teeth as he tilts his head back. He remains silent afterwards though and, in the quiet that follows, you have to ask the million dollar question.

“So, why are you here?”

From his lack of open threat and the fact that he seems jovial enough, you can gather that he is probably not here in any criminal capacity and that knowledge makes the tension in your body loosen just a little. As you await his answer, you allow your eyes to rove over his comfortable form.

He looks just as handsome as ever.

A familiar heavy, leather coat is covering most of his body with the only real difference between his clothing the last time you saw him and now being the changed colour of his undervest; having swapped out the black for a bottle green which was so dark that it could be mistaken for black if it were not for the good lighting of your kitchen. His seated position is commanding as he takes up the room he needs, and you can see the slight hangover of his stomach at it spills over his dark slacks.

His hair is laying messily atop his head and his goggles are missing from their usual position amongst the thick hair. The brown of his eyes seems to shine in the light of the kitchen as he fixes you with a contemplative look and you break your shared gaze as a flicker of arousal curls in your lower stomach. Moving your eyes down, at the corner of his mouth there is a slight cut to the bottom lip, and you quickly rifle through your memory to see if you can recall any recent news of an altercation he may have been involved in.

His face takes on a slight reddish hue as he answers your question.

“I require somewhere to hide out for the evening.” He confesses and you swear you can hear a touch of embarrassment colouring the words, “My usual space is,” he pauses as he seems to be choosing his words carefully, “compromised and this is the closest address I could think of that may be willing to house me.”

“How did you even get this address?” The question is out before you can stop it once again.

“I took it from the Oscorp database when I took your research.”

“Why?”

“I was not sure if you could be trusted and after,” another pause on his part, “what happened, I wanted to make sure that I would not be painted as a different type of monster.”

It was an honest answer and the truth of it made a slight sadness twist in your gut as you realise his concerns. Smiling to cover the sensation, you drop your hands into the pockets of your skirt instead.

“I kept to my side of the story and if you promise not to bring any trouble to my rented apartment then you can spend the night.” Stopping for a moment to let your words sink in, you turn your back to him as you twist to face your cupboards with an emboldened attitude, “And, for the record, I don’t regret what happened and I stand by my decision.”

Avoiding his gaze as you feel it piercing into the back of your head, you reach into one of the high cupboards and pull free two glass tumblers before placing them gently on the table. Checking one of the lower cupboards, you lament your lack of available drinks.

“I have a quarter bottle of vodka or a half bottle of whisky,” you call over your shoulder as you palm both, “which would you rather?”

“The whisky?”

“Glenfiddich single-malt,” you answer as you squint at the label, “eighteen years.”

“That.”

Quickly pouring out a generous measure into one of the tumblers, you push it towards him with your knuckles.

“Ice?”

In lieu of an answer, the tentacle closest to the table darted forward to pick up the small glass and its sudden movement made the bottle of whisky in your grasp slosh dangerously as you flinched away from it. Moving swiftly, the tentacle brought the glass to his lips and he took a tempered sip with an appreciative hum.

“Not necessary.” He tilted his head towards you in gratitude, “Thank you.”

Pouring yourself a sliver of vodka, you top it off with some lemonade and take a quick gulp.

Dutch courage.

It always worked like a charm.

“Will you join me?”

His question is unexpected, and it pulls you from your thoughts as the stiff drink burns its way down your throat. Not seeing -or at least not willing to acknowledge- the danger, you jump in place for a moment as another tentacle comes to rest on the wooden back of the chair closest to you as it is shifts it free of the table for you to sit.

“Thanks.” Taking the seat, your glass taps against the wooden table as you place it down gently and continue to speak, “So how is my research doing?”

The metal arm that pulled your chair free flexes in the corner of your sight and you turn to face it more clearly.

“The metal polymers fused to them beautifully,” pride coloured his tone as his gaze followed your own to his exposed metal appendage, “and increased their physical strength and durability considerably. I am working on extending their capabilities using new, experimental techniques.”

“Techniques you would be willing to share?”

“If I told you,” his smirk was open as he inclined his glass in your direction, “then I would have to stop you from sharing my secrets and neither of us want that.”

Unsure how seriously to take that threat, you ignore the gnawing sense that you were entering into dangerous territory by inclining your own glass in return.

x-x-x-x-x

The flow of conversation between you both was relatively good-natured as you discussed aspects of work and the developing scientific world which you both were keen to see come to fruition. You found yourself brushing over his mentions of criminality with a surprising lack of moral outrage but that was an acknowledgment which you were willing to save analysis for later.

Perhaps it was the discussion or maybe it was the whisky, but as the conversation progressed Otto grew steadily more animated before your eyes. Subtle smirks grew into open laughter that crinkled the corners of his eyes with lines and even his tentacles had relaxed into an almost dormant state as they swooped low to the floor.

As he speaks, the day catches up with you and you politely cover a yawn with the back of your hand so as not to interrupt him. However, the move does not go unnoticed, and he pauses his discussion.

“Am I boring you?”

Caught off-guard by the sudden accusation, you splutter for a moment before catching the amused challenge in his eyes.

“No, but it’s been a long day.” You confess with a shrug, “I should head off to bed soon.”

At the mention of your bed, the elephant in the room which had been remaining dormant until this point sprang to life as you are forced to consider where exactly you plan to house the wanted super-criminal who is now looking at you in a way that suggests the same idea is fresh in his thoughts.

“The living room sofa will suffice for me,” an unexpectedly chivalrous offer that makes your eyes lock onto his own, “and I will keep these things from causing any unnecessary damage.” He inclines to his metal appendages with a slight head tilt.

Clearing your throat as you sink the last of your drink, you hold his eye as you take a steadying breath and make your choice.

“The bed is more comfortable.”

The words are quiet, but they may as well have been screamed for the way that they charge the tension within the room as his lip quirks at the corner and he moves quicker than you could have anticipated. Standing from his seated position, he closes the gap and, in a reversal of your first encounter, takes the initiative as he pulls you towards him.

His lips are insistent on your own and you meet him equally as you press your body against his, enjoying the residual taste of whisky which coats your tongue. It is over as quickly as it begins, and you pull away with a deep exhale as you meet his heated glance. Running your hands along the lapel of his leather coat, your words are breathy.

“Give me five minutes and meet me in the bedroom. Make yourself comfortable.”

Twisting in position, you walk away from him with a confident gait as you hear his heavy footfalls disappear in the opposite direction as he follows your instructions. Your bathroom light is off as you step inside, and you switch it on quickly.

A wet washcloth is your best bet and you run it under the tap for a moment before drawing it across your face and sighing as the cool water clears your thoughts. Wringing it out, you quickly follow up by freshening up your body and quickly reapplying some roll-on deodorant.

A quick check down your top reminds you of the simple cotton underwear set you had thrown on before work and you are momentarily pleased by the choice of colour as the red stands out beautifully against your skin.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you take a deep breath and flick the light off as you exit the bathroom. Your shirt and skirt feel hot against your skin as you consider the events ahead and you pause at the bedroom door for a moment before stepping through.

He is seated at the edge of your bed and his eyes fix on you immediately. A ghostly sensation of embarrassment creeps along your spine and you feel like a young teen again, sneaking a boy back to the house and hoping that he likes your bedroom, but you shake the feeling off as you focus on the very real man who is giving you his full attention.

His heavy jacket has been removed and you can see it folded neatly over the chair in the corner of the room. The lack of jacket exposes his deep green undervest and, as you move to his side of the bed, you can see his shoes are also off and neatly placed beside the jacket.

As you move towards him, he stands and his metal arms seem to flex for a moment before folding in towards his body to allow him the greatest access to you as his hands come to rest on the waistband of your skirt. Matching his movements, you place your hands on the belt which is holding up his dark slacks.

“I like this skirt.” He mutters, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine, “Is this what you wear to work?”

Seeing the opportunity, you take it.

“Not normally, no.” You whisper back, pressing up on the balls of your feet to plant the confession into his ear, “But a strange thing happened recently, and a very dangerous man left me hoping that he might show up again. So, I wanted to dress for the occasion, just in case he came back.”

Growling at your words, he pulls the bottom of your shirt free so he can run his hands across your stomach and your breath hitches as his thick fingers ghost along your hips.

“I suppose I should say thanks for not killing me that night in the lab.”

His lips, which had been trailing the most delightful kisses down your neck, pause as he pulls his head back to give you a heated yet questioning look. However, it is quick to slip into surprise as you press harshly against his rounded stomach, forcing him to move backwards against the bed and take a seat.

Your hands fumble messily against his belt as you move to live out a fantasy that has been playing out in your head since your first encounter. In those nights where you found relief in your hands as they moved frantically against your heated core, the image of him above you as you took him in your welcoming mouth had spurred you on to satisfaction and the fantasy becoming reality made your core wet against the cotton of your panties.

His hands rest atop your own as he smoothly unclips his belt and unzips his slacks; moving his hands away to allow you to delve your own within his boxers and free his rapidly hardening cock as it strains against the fabric there.

You had forgotten just how thick he was and you wrap your hands around the base of his cock as you dip your head forward; just catching the tip against your lips as you open your mouth and push down. A heavy groan of open pleasure is your reward, and it spurs you on as you dig the fingertips of your free hand into the covered flesh of his thigh.

A soft gasp escapes from your lips as one of his heavy hands comes to rest on the back of your head, pressing you further down on his cock and you allow it to guide you as you hollow your cheeks and accept him further. Moving your tongue, you suck him in deep and his voice is strained as he speaks again.

“It’s been a long time, pet.”

At the clear arousal in his tone, you feel a fresh flood of lust course through you and it makes you groan around his cock. However, you pull free of him in surprise as two of his metal tentacles wrap around your waist as you kneel, essentially keeping you in place as his hand tightens almost painfully around your hair.

“Apologies,” he grunts as you look up at him and his eyes are wild with lust as a lock of his dark hair falls over his forehead, “they often respond without being asked.”

“It looks like they want to me continue,” you respond, running a hand along one of the metal arms with an almost suggestive ease, “is that what you want, Otto?” You purr his name with clear intent, and it makes the corner of his eye twitch as his body betrays him by pressing towards you.

Opening your mouth once again, you swallow him down in one smooth move and the effort makes the corner of your eyes water but its worth it as a strangled moan graces your ears. His hand slips from your head to the base of your neck and his fingers are warm as they massage the skin there with an agitated pressure. He is close, you can tell, and you rub your thighs together in anticipation as you await the rewards of your efforts.

With a pointed swirl of your tongue along the sensitive head, you inhale sharply as you find your body being pulled away from his as his metal arms remove you from your kneeling position and place you back on your feet.

Confused, you barely have time to open your mouth before his lips are on your own once again and you know he can taste himself on your tongue as he devours you with an almost frenzied edge as his hands press against your chest roughly. His tentacles are still wrapped around your waist as they follow their master’s subconscious desires.

Pulling away, his finger runs along your lip and you can feel the slight puffiness of them as you part them willingly.

“My turn, pet.” He growls and the hoarseness of his voice sends a bolt of arousal down your spine as you shiver in place.

A squeal of surprise breaks free from your lips as you are lifted from the ground with ease by his metal arms as they place you overhead and drop you gently to the bed; your back bouncing off the springs as you release a girlish giggle.

The bed dips as his impressive weight kneels over you and his metal arms release you to allow his fingers to dip within the buttons of your shirt. With a quick movement, he pulls the fabric to one side and the force is enough to send the small plastic buttons snapping across the room and falling carelessly to the carpet as he exposes your red bra.

Humming appreciatively at the sight, he puts his hands on your skirt waistband once again and you lift your ass from the bed to allow him to slip the fabric down past your knees and feet before throwing it carelessly off the side of the bed.

Now covered by little more than your underwear set and ripped shirt, a blush graces your cheeks as you lick at your lips. The faint taste of your vodka and something that was uniquely him invades your senses and you stretch your arms overhead as you press your chest out to him in open invitation.

Sitting up, you pull the bra free of your body and drop it beside you.

One of his metal arms is quick to spring to life and pick it up as he continues to focus on your freshly exposed chest with open delight. Another arm opens your bedside drawer and drops the bra within, but it is slow to retract as it plucks free a small piece of dark fabric.

Above you, Otto hums as the arm brings the piece of fabric to his attention and he opens his palm to accept it. His brow cocks in surprise as he takes in the small, dark blindfold and he allows it to hang off the tip of his fingers as he fixes you with an aroused stare.

“What’s this? Hmm?”

Ignoring the flash of fresh heat across your skin as one of your little secrets was exposed, you run a hand gently across your chest, pausing to play with your nipple, as you give a casual shrug.

“You can use it if you want?”

His head snaps down at you fully as your offer hangs in the air but he is quick to cover his lapse in control as he smirks.

“Would you trust me to use it?”

It was a valid question, but you were far too aroused to care about the potential consequences.

“Could I stop you if you wanted to?”

His body moves quickly as he presses down on top of you and the overwhelming sensation of him makes you groan as your heated skin is trapped against his warmth.

Placing the blindfold against your forehead, you tilt your head up to allow him to secure at the back and he places a surprisingly soft kiss against your lips as he pulls it down.

The world falls into darkness as the fabric of the blindfold removes one of your senses and it makes your other senses heighten as you strain your hearing to listen for his movements. The pressure of him atop you disappears as he pulls away and your breath catches in your throat as you await his next move.

You jump as his lips make themselves known against your navel and you give an appreciative moan as he makes a trail of kisses down your abdomen. As he reaches the sensitive skin between your hips and groin, you shift in position as it tickles.

A sharp yelp of surprise breaks free of your lips as your wrists and ankles are suddenly pinned into place by a cool metal which you immediately identify as his excess arms. The pressure is firm but not painful as you wiggle your extremities against them, unable to do more than wiggle your fingers and toes as they are held in place.

Anxiety and list swirl in your gut at the obvious show of dominance and it takes the breath from you as you realise how truly vulnerable you had allowed yourself to be.

No sight.

No movement.

At the mercy of a man who was one of the most recognised super-criminals to exist within your lifetime.

“I don’t think they want you to move.” He says and you can hear the amusement in his tone as it colours the obvious arousal there, “They want you to stay and take what I’m going to give. Perhaps they recognise that you helped to give them more strength?”

His body shifts once more, and your hips buck slightly as his warm breath makes itself known on your inner thigh. The wetness between your legs must be visible as you hear a faint huff of amusement as his fingers trail along the soft skin of your thighs as they travel up to hook within the band of your panties.

The metal around your ankles leaves for a moment as he pulls your panties free of your ass and down past your knees and ankles. Once free, you do not hear where he throws them but your attention is elsewhere as your ankles are again locked against the bed by his metal arms as they spread your legs slightly.

His mouth is gentle as it licks and sucks at the sensitive skin of your thighs and its maddening as he is so close to your aching core without providing any relief and your lips grunt your displeasure as you attempt to move your body as much as possible to force him closer to your sex.

He seems to pick up on your desperation and he takes pity as a salacious moan escapes your chest as the stubble of his chin brushes against you as he licks a slow line down your slit. After having no stimulation, it is almost too much as you give another broken moan as you rock your hips against his mouth to encourage him.

For your enthusiasm, he rewards you with vigour as he makes an excited attack on your core; licking, sucking, and teasing as he alternates between your clit and entrance as he makes his mark. Clawing your fingers against the metal pinning you in place, you writhe your back against the bed as frenzied grunts spill from your lips. The blindfold was doing its job and every sensation seemed to elevate as he devours you.

He was unrelenting as he continued his ministrations and, despite trying to avoid it, a part of you imagines that his poor wife was probably a very happy woman before her passing. The metal arms seem to flex around your body as they keep the pressure from growing too heavy on your soft skin and the tension within your body is steadily growing as you are unable to escape his frantic movements.

His lips graze your clit as his wide tongue flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves and it is just what you need as the band of arousal that is making your breath come in short bursts snaps. Squeezing your eyes shut despite the blindfold, you buck your hips into his mouth as you come, grinding against him as harshly as possible as he tasted everything you had to offer.

Your fingernails are carving crescents into your palms as you ride of the aftershocks of your orgasm and his presence disappears from your groin as the weight of the bed shifts. A sudden brightness alerts you to the fact that the blindfold has been removed and you squint your eyes as his face appears before your own.

His lips catch your own once more and, as if he is returning the favour, you can taste yourself on his tongue and it draws a comfortable moan from you as the metal arms pull free of your limbs.

Using his own hands, Otto wraps them around your waist and picks you up in a show of physicality that makes you smirk as he pulls you over and places you at the edge of the bed in a seated position.

As he stands free of the bed, his hand moves smoothly along his visibly hard cock and you can see the small bead of pre-cum as it is spread by his fingers. His free hand dips within the pocket of his discarded coat and pulls out a familiar brand of condom as he rips the packaging open with his teeth and rolls it over his cock.

“So, they like to play?” You purr, eyeing up his metal arms as they float despondently behind his body. At some point while you were blindfolded, his slacks must had been discarded and his dark boxers are pooled around his ankles as he steps free of them.

His vest remains on but as it wraps around his rounded body, it does little to hide anything, and you flash a heated grin at him as you take in his exposed state.

“Apparently,” he matches your grin with a smirk of his own, “but that is news to me as much as you. They are not usually this,” he pauses, “responsive.”

“Can they do anything else?”

“They are advanced structures,” his voice is buttery as he places a hand below your jaw to tilt your head up to meet him, “combined with one of the most advanced artificial intelligence programs in the world. They can do a lot of things.”

“Not what I was asking, and you know it.” You mutter, ignoring his smirk.

He looks thoughtful for a moment as one of his arms springs to life and the three metal spokes that make up the hand open enough to wrap around your breast. Your breath hitches in apprehension but aside from a firm squeeze there is no further action until-

“Oh!” You exclaim as the tentacle bursts to life in a vibrating motion, sending strong pulses through your chest and making you squirm against the duvet, “Oh…” The sensations are strong, and you quirk a brow in his direction as he shrugs.

Leaning down, his hands are firm against your shoulders as they push you back against the bed and you follow his unspoken commands as you lay flat. Stepping forward, he stands between your legs as you raise them from the floor and wrap them gently around his waist, keeping your thighs as spread as possible to ensure he had all the access he needed.

His fingers are insistent as they tease a gentle line down your slit, mimicking the movements his tongue had made earlier, and they slip inside you with ease as you are still slick from your earlier orgasm. Sighing as you enjoy the sensation of the fingers, their thickness familiar and just as delicious as you remember, you groan gently as you rock your hips into his hand.

“You ready?” His words are husky, rough with anticipation, and you place a hand atop the metal arm which is still pressed atop your chest.

“Yes!” You grunt, wrapping your free hand around his wrist and bringing it to lay flat against your hip, “I’ve waited long enough.”

Running his fingers through his hair, his lips pull back into a grin as he lines himself up against your entrance and pushes in without any preamble. The sudden fullness draws a short scream of pleasure from your throat as you are filled and your fingers claw into the soft skin of his wrist as it grips you to keep you in place.

Clenching around him, the friction of his movements sets your nerves alight, and you blink as you admire the look of sheer concentration on his face as his dark eyes hold a pinpoint focus on your expression while he sets a quick pace within you. His hair has fallen from its place with a few locks brushing his forehead as he exerts himself, and a thin sheen of sweat is visible as his thick body snaps against your own.

The attention from such a dangerous yet brilliant man is intoxicating, and you push your hips down to meet his every thrust as he buries himself within you fully. As he moves, his growls and grunts grow more frantic, and you match them with your own as you whine and grip at the metal arm which is keeping you still as it continues to send pleasant vibrations through your sensitive chest.

His hand comes to rest over your mouth as it breaks free of your hip, and you can taste your own releases against the fingers as well as the faintest hint of tobacco. Moaning around the fingers, you nip at the pad of his thumb as he stretches you out.

“I’m close,” you cry out, arousal making your words strangled, “fuck me, I’m so close. Keep going.”

At the cursing, he gives a low grunt, and you swear his thrusts become more punishing as the heels of your feet dig into the soft flesh of his lower back, still covered by his vest. It pushes you over the edge and your vision whites out at the edges as you reach your peak, garbled pleas and grunts fall from your lips as you desperately clench around him.

The added friction seems to be enough for him also and it is only as the highs of your orgasm begin to wane that you feel him twitch within you as he also reaches his release. The metal arm against your chest tightens to the point where the pain catches your breath in your throat, but it loosens up quickly as he collapses back against his remaining metal arms as they form a support for him to lean against.

The deep breathing of you both as you catch your breath and wits again is the only sound in the room aside from the slight creak of his metal arms as they move to prop him up fully. Tilting your head to the side, you break the silence by spreading an arm across the open bed to your side.

“The bed is more comfortable by the way,” you repeat your earlier words with a small smile, “that wasn’t just a line to get you in here.”

You are not sure where the uncertainty in his expression stems from but whatever internal battle is going on inside his mind concludes as he gives a hum of consent and pushes off his arms to instead lay himself out on the bed. His vest remains the only clothing between you both and you take a moment to lament having to wash your sheets in the morning.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a thick arm as it comes to rest over your chest, pulling you closer as your body is moved flush against his own. He is on his front, his tentacles floating in the air above the bed without any real movement and you focus on them as he makes himself comfortable against your body.

Your last meeting did not allow for it, but he seems to be a cuddler and the sheer absurdity of the whole thing makes your chest move as you hold back a giggle.

“What is so funny?” His voice is low, and his dark eyes are sated but as sharp as ever as he roves them across your face.

Busted.

“I’m just thinking about how they say that doing something once is a mistake and twice is a hobby. I’m wondering if this applies.”

His chuckle rumbles his chest against your side, and you can tell he is amused by the thought process.

“I will be gone by tomorrow,” speaking slowly, his words are certain and only slightly regretful as he seems very content with his current position, “and you can make that decision by yourself.”

“You can stay for breakfast if you want?” The offer even catches you off guard as you make it, “I am not due back in work for two days.”

He nods and you can see his tongue moving within his mouth and he contemplates his options.

“Perhaps I will. I am in no rush to return to my current project until certain elements have been corrected.” Talking more to himself, he turns his attention to you once again as he smirks, “But, you are correct, that is twice now that you have let a wanted criminal into your bed. Maybe I should be the one who is concerned?”

“It’s an achievement that I don’t plan to include on my CV, if I’m to be honest with you, Doctor Octavius.” You mutter, pressing your smile against his shoulder, and his laugh is open and honest as he matches your smile for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence.

(+ Small Addition)

A rough sound draws you from your dreamless sleep and as your eyes snap open and begin to adjust to the darkness of the room, you turn to face the heavy figure to your side. Still planted on his front, his tentacles are no longer settled as they sweep through the air in short, jerky movements; not enough to be dangerous or cause damage but enough that you squint to see what the problem is.

Otto is asleep but his rest is far from relaxed as a pained expression graces his face, his eyes moving frantically behind his eyes as whatever is tormenting him seems to be causing him some distress.

“Otto?” You whisper quietly, letting the words carry themselves in the small space between you as you shake him gently with your hand, “You’re dreaming.”

His eyes do not open but a vague sense of consciousness comes to him and from behind closed lids he breathes out his answer.

“S’okay, Rosie. M’fine.”

A deep sense of sadness grips at your chest as whatever awareness he has leaves him and he falls silent once again; lost to memories better left unspoken about.

You knew the story, had read the reports and news articles when the accident had happened. His work had killed his wife and in the bliss of unconsciousness, he still dreams of her.

Alive and well and sharing his bed.

Despite his crimes and history, you had seen glimpses of the man he was before the accident, and it causes an ache in your heart. Not of jealousy, or disappointment, but a genuine sadness for his experiences and the loss of such a brilliant man to the madness and grief that is consuming him.

Closing your eyes once again, you focus your thoughts on breakfast and allow the sinking comfort of your pillow to pull you back to sleep once more.

Chapter 4: Random Snippets & Drabbles

Summary:

Until I get the next part fully planned out and written up, I thought I would post all the little snippets and drabbles that I've written for tumblr/discord. Please pay attention to the title for each one because that will act as the warning for the small piece of content below.

Notes:

As always, thank you for all your support and kudos/comments absolutely make my day. The power of the sun (my good feelings) in the palm of your hand (your comments) 🤣 xx

Doc Ock/Reader - Smoke

"That cigar is a disgusting habit," carding your fingers through his thick hair, your words are an open purr as his thumb and forefinger delicately hold his cigar in place to prevent it from catching against your skin, "you should quit." 

A wolfish grin twists the corners of his lips up as he exales and the sudden plume of smoke catches you by surprise as it envelopes your face, each sense overwhelmed for a moment by the strong and utterly acrid scent, before dissipating into nothing. 

At your reaction, a chuckle reverberates through his chest and the rumble of it makes you smirk despite yourself; the heated mirth in his deep brown eyes instantly strangling the small spark of irritation which his actions had caused. 

"It's a guilty pleasure," his reply is low, the syllables dissolving into little more than a intimate mutter as he slings an arm around your lower back to pin you in place against his wide lap, "I think I'm entitled to at least one." 

"Otto," shifting your weight against his crotch, the slight stutter of the cigar as he inhaled sharply did not go unnoticed as you pressed against his half-hard length, "you're a wanted super criminal. Everything you do is a guilty pleasure."

 

Doc Ock/Reader - Mirrors

Eyes dropping from the long mirror which lay overhead to fall on his broad shoulders, a pained grunt pulls from your throat as one of his metal arms lock around your neck and force your gaze skywards. 

"Remember, pet," each word is punctuated by a thrust which steals the breath away from you as you clench desperately around him and his tone is firm yet amused as he keeps you pinned in place with no effort, "keep your eyes on the mirror. Destruction without witness is a waste and I want you to see your ruin." 

Swallowing around the metal pressing against your throat gently, the sheer voyeuristic nature of the act makes a shiver break along your skin once more as you allow him to ravage your willing flesh.

 

Doc Ock/Reader - Pegging

"Otto, please ride me." 

Placing one hand along the harness of the strap that is fixed to your hips, you use your free hand to roll your breast softly; gasping as he moves quickly to take the task into his own grip, kneading the flesh there between his fingers with practiced care. 

The weight of the bed shifts as he moves to kneel by your side with a soft grunt and you can feel the hesitancy rolling off him in waves. A low growl passes his lips as you snake a hand around his hard length, swirling your thumb across his sensitive head to encourage him as you smile at him wickedly. 

"You know how to balance your weight," you purr, stroking him languidly as you speak, "so ride me and earn your reward." 

A full-bodied shudder grips him as he follows your soft commands and the warm weight of him makes you hum in contentment with its familiarity as his knees spread to clutch against your hips and balance his weight. He is quick to line himself up and you take a moment to touch the head of the strap to ensure that enough lube is present there to ensure a seamless go of it. 

From your earlier fingers and his own eagerness, it does not take too much effort for him to sink down fully on the small strap and the action makes you both groan; his laced with pure pleasure as he was deliciously filled by every inch of what you had to offer and yours with satisfaction as you watch the growing flush on his expressive face.

 

Doc Ock/Reader - Pinwheel

"Do you really want to test me?" Wrists trapped between the surprising warmth of one of his metallic arms, the challenge in your expression is clear even as you push your exposed chest out towards him; arcing your back from the soft sheets of the bed to tempt him into action. 

"What kind of scientist could I claim to be if I did not follow a very strict method of hypotheses and experimentation?" 

His naked form towers over you as he stands to the side of the bed, visibly hard and meeting your challenge with the roguish wink of a man who knew he held the power to do as he wished and was in rush to meet any demand. 

"For example," plucking one of the small implements which was held deftly between the pincers of one of his free metal arms, he holds the small spiked wheel in the space between you, "this little device here is often used to test nerve reactions in those who have sustained burns." 

Pressing the tip of the wheel to your collarbone, he allows you to feel the sharp points as they push almost threateningly against your soft skin. 

"My hypothesis is that, by the time I'm finished with this little tool, you'll be screaming my name for all of New York to hear." 

Before you can answer that, he rolls the wheel across your collarbone and it travels across the unprotected skin without meeting any resistance and you gasp at the sensation. The pressure is not hard enough to break the skin but with enough emphasis to ensure that every point is felt as it makes tiny divots.
The sensation of the wheel is painful for only a split second before lessening to leave a pleasant tingling in its wake which makes you squirm against the sheets as you claw your fingers against the metal pinning you in place. 

"Otto!" Your gasp is strained, his name dissolving into a moan as one of his gloved hands come to rest atop the tingling flesh; groping your breast to manipulate the sensation there in a way which makes your brain go fuzzy as he alternates between ghosting his hands along the sensitive skin and tugging it almost painfully. 

"Yes?" His gaze is piercing with a familiar focus, eyes darkening with open arousal, as he draws his attention back to your expression. 

Fluttering your eyes with a soft moan as the wheel moves dangerously close to your nipple, you answer him. 

"More."

 

Doc Ock/Reader - Voyeurism (ft. Dr. Connors)

"You're so good for Dr Connors, pet. Look at him, he's little more than a beast as he ruts into you." 

His hand clasps around your chin, the cool leather providing a little comfort against the heated skin as he tilts you head to force you to look up at him. The fire of his gaze is intoxicating and it pairs with a particularly brutal thrust from Dr. Connors that draws a strangled moan from your lips. 

Eyes dropping back to the thick bulge that was mere inches from your lips, he must have caught the interest in your movements as he dropped to a heavy knee before you and placed the pad of his thumb against your lips. 

"Is one monster not enough?" He muttered in a lilted tone that was as mocking as it was hoarse, "What makes you think that I would allow you to touch me after seeing how easy it was to get you to spread your legs for a disgusting beast?" 

The pace of the good doctor as he moves within you is almost inhumane and you can do little but scramble your fingers against the metal arms pinning you into place. Every nerve seems alight and a fresh grunt of pained pleasure shoots through you as Otto lowers his gloved hands to your chest, catching your nipples between the leather in a savage pinch that makes you clench around the cock driving you to ruin. 

"Otto..." you yelp, unable to say much more due to the lack of cognitive thought still accessible through the haze of sensation. 

Another pinch draws a guttural sound from your throat as he tuts softly above you. 

"Have you forgotten your manners so soon, sweetheart? Whatever happened to 'Sir'? You wanted this and now you act like a brat after I arrange it for you?"

Once again dropping to his knee, he brings his lips to your ear and the growl of his words sends a shiver down your spine as his close presence makes your breath come in short bursts. 

"Maybe we'll ask Dr. Connors if he wants to sample one of the other delightful parts of your body that I was planning to save for myself? We can see if that helps to fix that poor attitude."

Notes:

These are all little bits and bobs but if there's any that really really take ur fancy then let me know and I might expand them into a bigger oneshot xx

Chapter 5: Part 3: Crime and Punishment

Notes:

Back on my bullshit, lads. This chapter was a labour of love over the holiday break lmaooo. It moves into a slightly spicier territory for our illustrious doctor and female reader so i hope you all enjoy.

As always, kudos and comments are love and appreciated xx

Of the many adjustments which have quickly been put into place concerning your life goals and long-term planning, having to factor in a questionable ongoing fling with a noted supervillain was not a consideration which you really had given too much potential to. Rather, it was something which you were actively trying to disregard as you made a point of continuing with a normal routine of work and leisure.

Ignorance was bliss and the desire to enjoy that bliss for as long as possible was almost as great as motivator as spite.

However, in the week which had passed since his glossed-over break in at your apartment, new developments had forced such considerations into very stark focus. Having shared a robust breakfast of bacon and overcooked eggs served with some casual discussion, Otto had politely excused himself from your apartment with a scrawled mobile number being thrust into your hands by one of his metal hands as he disappeared through your doorway into the early morning.

No expectations had been set and life had continued as normal until, surprisingly, he had been first to contact you.

It started with an innocent question, its focus being on the research which he had stolen from you, but it was enough to break the silence and you had responded quickly with the information he required. His style of text, much like himself, was sharp and to the point with small quirks of humour breaking through as he loosened up to the conversation as it progressed from work to more social discussions.

Rather, it had loosened up enough that you quickly found yourself with an invitation to visit one of his hidden workspaces late one evening when your work schedule allowed it. It had been phrased as an opportunity to engage with your research again but there was a playful heat within the text which you found difficult to ignore, and you had accepted the invitation quickly; ensuring to mention that you had no further plans for the night and could spend all the time necessary.

The abandoned rental space in which he had set up home, buried deep within the industrial district of the city, was nothing overly special to look at. The scent of oil and metal was strong in the air as his various creations and equations were strung up around the reduced space like criminals, simply biding their time for further interrogation. Furniture was limited to a heavy wooden desk with a leather chair, and a frayed yet clean looking sofa which seemed to function as a bed as much as a seating area.

The low hum of a fridge as it lay by the wooden desk was a constant source of subtle noise but despite how threadbare the overall area seemed to be, there was a cosy sort of quality to it that you could appreciate.

Almost three hours had passed since your arrival and in that time you had been lovingly reunited with your metal polymer research as you poured over the considerable changes he had made to the equations. Some of them were brilliant; showing a genuine understanding of the project at its core and taking some concepts which you had toyed with beyond anything you could have developed personally.

Otto, for his sins, had been nothing but respectful since your arrival despite his enthusiasm over his work.

The workspace was small enough to not require any tour or explanation and he had been quick to offer you a drink. However, his options were limited and the glass of water still sat, half-filled and off to the side to prevent it from spilling on any of the presented work.

Three hours of time spent together, and he had barely laid as much as a finger on you since your arrival. Not that the expectation was there for him to sweep you off your feet, but in your two previous encounters he had not exactly been slow at making his move.

The closest he had come to any physical contact was his metal arms politely taking your coat from your body as he laid it neatly over the sofa. Aside from that, he seemed content to allow you to engage with your work as he engaged with his own; his body taking residence in the large leather chair which sat before his desk to allow you to use one of the nearby stools.

It was not that he was ignoring you, but you could tell that his focus was fully centred on the work before him as his brow furrowed in consideration with every small mark that the pencil within his metal arms made on the paper. His work was important to him and you could respect that, however, you knew as well as anyone that all work and no play was no way for anyone to live.

A wicked idea alights in your mind as you decide that enough time had been spent on work for the moment and it was time for some play.

Moving to stand before him, you dip below the paper he is studying intently as you drop yourself into his lap in one swift movement, ensuring that your legs are wrapped around his own as you steady yourself on his thick body.

The scent of leather is strong as you run your fingers over the lapels of his overcoat, the fabric marked and frayed in parts due to its almost constant use, and you unleash a soft sigh as the movement gets very little reaction from him as he takes in your sudden appearance.

Having taken the best seat in the house, the biggest response he gives you is a questioning hum as he draws his attention from the indecipherable equations which had been his main focus for the last half hour for only a moment.

“Yes?” So low that it seemed to come from his chest rather than his throat, his question was simple yet you could see the amusement playing behind his eyes as he quickly worked out your intent.

“Just taking a small break,” shuffling your groin against his, you can see the corner of his mouth twitch at the sensation, “and I thought you might like to join me.”

His lap was wide enough to make for comfortable sitting and your feet were precariously balanced on the floor as you focus on keeping a deliberate pressure on his thighs while your fingers tease around his clothing with a playful edge. The intent was his attention and, despite his best efforts to ignore you, the slight stiffness growing within his groin as you rub against him betrayed his interest.

“I am close to solving this calculation,” he confessed, brown eyes flicking back to the paper, “so give me a little more time.”

The slight sound of his pencil scratchings as one of his metal arms fixed the mathematics which was beyond your own impressive understanding was the only sound in the room aside from the slight hum of your own throat as you ignored his words. Hooking a finger under the goggles which had been pushed back into his thick hair, you pull them free of his head slightly before allowing them to snap back against his skin.

Flinching at the unexpected move, his expression shows irritation as his eyes lock on to your own but even through the annoyance there is a definite heat there which makes your gut clench.

“Stop that,” he mutters, pushing your hand away from his head with two firm fingers, “you’re acting like a child.”

Ignoring his words once again, your hands immediately jump back to the goggles as you pluck them from his hair and drop them behind his head; the goggles falling to the floor with a weak thud as they disappear fully from sight and connect with the floor.

All the while you hold his eye without fear as the corners of your mouth tilt up into a teasing smirk.

“Oh, I see.” His voice raises slightly as he nods at the obvious challenge, his fingers clamping over your wrists as he pulls your hands to his clothed chest, “You don’t think that I have better things to be doing with my time than giving you my attention?”

“You invited me here and I can’t imagine it was just to watch me look at my old research. You’ve been focused on these papers for too long,” you answer, circling your hips against his groin as your clothed core brushes against him, “and I think you need a break.”

“I need a break?” The question is full of disbelief, “Are you sure it’s me who has the needs here? I’m not the one behaving like a cat in heat.” His words have a slight mocking edge and a shudder trails down your spine as he continues with a knowing smirk, “Say you want my attention,” he pauses, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want your attention.”

His thumbs are rubbing soft circles against your wrists and the small piece of contact is welcome as his metal arms float in the open space behind his back.

“I can’t take time away from my work just to play,” his tone is low and conspiratorial and a slight disappointment tugs at your navel until he follows up with a gruff, “but I suppose I could spare some time to teach a small lesson. Something,” he pauses, “educational.”

“What makes you think I want to learn a lesson?”

“I have given it some thought, and I think you like receiving lessons,” his words are confident as he fixes you with a heated gaze that pins you in place, “and I also think that, given your reactions to my arms restraining you and that little stunt with the blindfold, you’re not as innocent as you would have me believe.”

Cocking a brow at him as he sends a small wink your way, the words send a thrill of arousal through your chest as his hands tighten once again around your wrists. He was correct in that your tastes were known to run a little spicier than some at times and, given his history, you were not too surprised to find that he was willing to indulge.

“So, if you want to act like a desperate brat, then you can be treated like a brat.”

His grip leaves you and instead he pushes you from him gently, allowing you to stand on your own two feet as he remains seated before you.

“Strip.”

A single word but his tone borders no argument, and you quickly hook your fingers within the waistband of your jeans and slip them free of your hips, allowing the fabric to fall to floor and expose your panties to his heated gaze. The air of the room is warm and you stand with your hands placed delicately against your thighs, a picture of submission as you await his next instruction.

You know that tone and your mind flits to the last time it had been used as the memories of your blindfold and being pinned into place by his metal arms continue to flash through your thoughts. The appearance of these more dominant qualities absolutely promised an interesting time and you held a deep suspicion that he could possess a mean streak a mile wide when properly antagonised.

Delightful.

And something to remember.

Crooking two of his fingers towards you, he inclines you to come closer and you comply but as you reach his knees a gasp escapes you as two of his metal arms clamp around your shoulders and pull you forward. Unable to prevent yourself from tripping, you fall forward but find your descent stopped by his hands as he uses both his metal and human arms to place you across his knee; your chest hanging just loose of his legs while your lower half remained splayed in the air and open to his whims.

A low moan escapes you as your hands and feet are immediately locked into place, hands pinned against the legs of the chair and feet pinned to the floor, by his metal arms. Not able to move aside from a slight wriggle of your body, a sense of apprehension fuses with the arousal in your gut as you realise what he has in store for you.

Act like a brat, be treated like a brat.

You only hoped that he would use his hands.

Beneath your stomach, you can feel the hardness of his cock as it remained trapped within his slacks and the sensation makes you smirk into the open air. The rush of blood as your head remains tilted towards the ground makes your breath come quickly until it catches as the cool leather of his gloves makes itself known against the fabric of your panties.

“You look beautiful like this,” he grunts, using both hands to slip your panties free of your ass as a flush of colour graces your cheeks, “all splayed out and ready to be taught a lesson. Again, so quick to spread your legs for me. Like a whore. Did you imagine this being your fate when I first appeared in your lab that night?”

Arousal unlike anything you had felt previously nipped at your senses as he falls into his role within your little game with ease. It was intoxicating and the prospect of what he had planned made your head swim.

“No, but then I was also afraid you would kill me.” You mutter, but the final sound is cut off by a grunt as the pad of one of his fingers dips between your folds, testing the wetness there and giving you some much needed stimulation, “Now, I’m yours.”

“Mine, huh? My little whore.” He growls, “Hmm, I like that. So, here’s the lesson you need to learn. I can’t have you distracting me from my work, so I think a little discipline is in order. I was thinking of twenty strikes but since I liked that little comment, I think I will lower it to fifteen. If you take them all like a good girl then we’ll see about a reward. Understand?”

“Yes.”

An unexpected smack against your upper thighs draws a short yelp of surprise from you as he strikes you with his gloved palm.

“Do I really need to remind you of your manners, pet?”

“Yes, sir?” You add the title with the reverence it deserves as you try to avoid further punishment, only a little questioning leaking into your tone as you work out what he is asking of you.

“Much better.” He announces, pleased at the obvious submission, “Are you ready?”

In lieu of an answer, you raise your ass slightly which gets you a familiar rumble of a chuckle in response.

The first hit catches you off guard as he provides no warning before the connection, the cool leather of his glove is immediately offset by the residual tingle of sensation as he ghosts his hand across your ass.

“Count them,” he demands, “so I know you are paying attention.”

“One.” You breathe out in response, “That was one.”

“Good girl.” He mutters, the words almost like a purr as he lays his free hand on the small of your back to steady you.

Settling into a slow rhythm, his every strike is followed by a long pause as he waits for you to call out the number in the quiet of his workspace. The length of the pause also seems tactfully drawn out to ensure the added benefit of keeping every smack fresh as the initial sting from the previous hit is fading by the time the new one rains down.

The leather of the gloves ensures a solid crack of noise as it connects with the flesh but even as he reaches his third smack, you can feel that he is pulling his strength somewhat as the hit is strong enough to ensure a solid contact but not enough to cause any real damage.

“Louder.”

“Four!” Raising your voice as the fourth hit makes you press against his thighs; you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs with every passing moment. Arousal is tight in your gut and the small flashes of discomfort do nothing but add to the sensations making your breath come in short bursts.

The next smack draws a long sigh from your lips after you call the number, and your focus is once again captured by the hardness you can feel against your sides as he shuffles against you to reposition himself for easier access to your ass, his hand raising once again.

“Six!” You call out, the rising warmth on your assaulted flesh making you wriggle in position for only a moment before settling down once again.

Flinching in surprise as the cool leather of his glove trails along your slit, you raise your ass a little higher but the move proved unnecessary as the metal arms restraining your legs moves them apart to spread your thighs and give him the easy access he needs. His fingers are gentle as they glide across your core, feeling the wetness there with obvious satisfaction as he teases you.

“It’s not a very good lesson in discipline if you enjoy it too much.” He mutters, voice laced with faux irritation as he thrusts a gloved finger within you, the suddenness of being filled catching your breath as your stomach tenses against his legs.

“Maybe you’re just a very good teacher?” You chirp back, clenching desperately around the finger which is creating the most delightful thrums of pleasure as he explores you leisurely.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He warns.

The finger is pulled free but immediately replaced by two as he thrusts them within you unceremoniously. The slickness of your juices providing them no resistance and you unleash a strangled gasp at the unexpected stretch and interesting sensation of the leather as it rubs within you in the most delightful way.

So lost in the pleasurable feelings, the next smack catches you off guard as he uses his free hand to deliver it.

“Seven.”

The pain of the strike makes you clench around his fingers as your ankles strain against the metal keeping you held in place. With every clench, the gloved pads of his gloves brush against your walls and you cannot stop your hips from rocking in place as they strive to keep the sensation going.

The next five smacks are delivered swiftly and each one draws a series of soft grunts and yelps from you as you writhe in place, unable to do much more as his metal arms keep you secured without mercy. The heat in your ass has built to a constant buzz and you can feel the heat radiating from it with every added hit but the discomfort is offset by the flashes of pure pleasure from within your core as he continues to stimulate you without pause.

Another strike receives another short yelp from your throat as you count.

“Thirteen.”

“You’re doing so well,” his words were barely more than a mumble and you could feel the vibration of his speech through his body as you pressed against his legs, “and you’re so wet for me.”

As he speaks, he pulls his fingers free to run them along your slit once again, tactfully brushing against your clit for only a moment as your legs buck in place, before placing his open palm on your ass.

You can feel your own juices coating his fingers which lay against your skin as you answer him.

“Only for you, sir.”

“So tight too,” he purrs, “I can feel you trying to pull me in deeper; trying to take more than I’m willingly giving you. I don’t think you’re learning the lesson you should be, pet.”

“Mayb-”

“Shh,” he cuts your words off with a sharp hush as his hand presses at the back of your head gently, “be quiet. I don’t want to hear any more from you unless it’s to count. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Let’s continue.”

The hand on your head disappears and you unleash a guttural grunt as you are once again filled by two of his fingers. The stretch makes you grin as he immediately sets back to work curling the digits within you as his free hand descends once more.

“Fourteen.”

The heat in your ass is approaching true pain as it flares with the penultimate hit and the sting of it takes your breath away as you prepare for the final strike. The band of arousal within your gut is drawing dangerously close to snapping as the mixed sensations of pleasure and pain make your head swim and your toes curl against the hardwood floor.

“Fifteen.”

The strain in your voice is audible as you rock your hips against his thighs, desperately trying to encourage him to finish you off as you count off the final hit, but a whine of disappointment escapes you as the fingers within you pull free and are replaced by a frustrating emptiness.

“You took that very nicely,” his hand rests on the buzzing warmth of your ass as he praises you, “but now we have a fresh problem. You see, as much as you accepted your lesson well, I am not certain that you have earned any sort of reward. What do you think?”

“You’re right, sir.” Playing into the game, you speak with a coquettish lilt, “But I can think of one way to earn my reward. I can feel how upset my actions have made you, since I have distracted you from your work, and I would appreciate the opportunity to fix it. You can make me swallow more than just my pride.”

At the obvious double-entendre and word play, a gruff chuckle escapes him, and his metal arms are quick to break free of your body as he flexes his knees to encourage you to move. Slipping quickly off his lap, you instead kneel between his spread legs and you gasp softly as the balls of your feet make contact with your burning ass.

The shift of his metal arms is slow, two of them making an almost serpentine movement as they push your hands behind your back and pin them to the base of your spine. You offer no resistance, and they lock in place, keeping your hands fully restricted and your head vulnerable to his wishes. A short gasp escapes you as a third arm makes itself known against your core, the metal sliding between your legs and pressing against your heated flesh gently as it seems to hum in place.

It was maddening; the slight vibrations enough to provide a constant stimulation to your aching core but they were so subtle that it would not be enough to give any real relief. Rubbing yourself against the metal provided a much better friction and you did so subtly, not wanting to give the game away too much and have him remove the arm.

His hands were quick to unzip his fly, fingers trembling only slightly as he freed his stiff length from his slacks. The pubic hair at the base of his cock was dark and neatly curled, much like the hair on his head, and your mouth waters as you take in the sight of his hard length as it juts free in the open space. As thick as the man himself, the stretch of it on the two occasions he had fucked you never failed to take your breath away until you had adjusted fully to it.

A visible bead of pre-cum decorates his head and you shuffle your knees against the floor as you dip your head forward, stretching your lips around the sensitive head as a loud groan rings out from above your head. Accepting him into your mouth, his taste is familiar and you moan around his length as you lean further forward, using your tongue to snake the first two inches of him past your lips.

“Christ, sweetheart,” pushing forward, you have no choice but to swallow around him as he sinks himself deeper into your mouth, “I forgot how good you were at that.”

The praise makes a blush rise on your cheeks and you rub soft circles with your hips as you grind lightly on his metal arm, the wetness there making the movements easy as you wriggle around. At your slight shuffle, one of his hands comes to rest heavily on the back of your head in warning; a clear reminder that the control was his and that your focus would be better found on the task at hand.

He pushes deeper and you have to keep control of your breathing as you hollow your cheeks to accept him, his hand on the back of your head making any escape possible as he pumps into your mouth with great restraint on his part. The girth of him makes your jaw ache but you power through the mild discomfort as you tilt your eyes up to meet him, savouring the mild look of adoration on his face as he stares down at you.

“Beautiful.” He mutters and you can imagine how you must look at the moment; your eyes glassy and desperate to please him, fully willing to follow his commands to do so.

Pulling back enough to swirl the length of your tongue along his sensitive head, a strained moan rings out overhead and you grunt in response as it encourages you to build up your pace as you bob your head along his cock. The arm beneath your core seems to match your increased speed as the soft thrum seems to grow a little stronger and you grind down on it more roughly.

His vocalisations grow more erratic as he growls and moans his way through your ministrations, his hips bucking off the chair slightly as he thrusts within your mouth, and you can tell that he is almost there. Continuing to pleasure yourself on the warm metal of his arm, you dip your head down suddenly on his cock to accept the majority of his length without warning and the sudden move is enough to push him over the edge.

The cock within your mouth swells for a moment as he gasps loudly and, true to your earlier promise, you focus on ensuring that you swallow down everything he has to offer. The intoxication of his soft grunts makes you hum around his cock, attempting to draw out every sweet sound from him that you can.

Throwing a few soft kisses to the end of his cock as he pulls free, you relax back against the metal arm between your legs as you watch him tuck his glistening cock away in his slacks. A flush of colour is plastered across his cheeks and you can see his chest moving rapidly as he fights to catch his breath.

Before you can make a smart comment, a strangled noise of surprise escapes you as the metal arms release your arms and instead pick you up by the waist to deposit you back into his lap. His legs are spread slightly and he uses his hands to ensure that your legs are placed over his, ensuring that he could keep your legs spread without too much effort.

“Well done, pet.” He grunts, placing one hand on your hip as the other dips into the empty space below your core, “I think that performance has definitely earned a reward.”

Running the hard edge of his knuckle along your folds, you grunt as you push down on his hand. The pressure is fantastic and you greedily shift around until the knuckle pulls back. The two fingers which had been teasing you throughout your lesson were quick to return as they forced their way within you once again.

His pace is methodical and unrelenting as he curls his fingers within you, brushing spots that send bolts of pleasure buzzing through your core to draw sweet whimpers from you lips as you steady your hands on his shoulders. So close to the edge, his dark eyes seem to have deepened a shade as he holds your gaze, watching you come undone by his own hand.

The gloved pad of his thumb comes to rest atop your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with a gentle pressure which makes your knees lock into place and your teeth bite into your lip. It feels divine and the added sensation is just enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm hits and you hear him grunt as your fingers dig painfully into his shoulders.

As you ride out the waves of pleasure on his willing fingers, the build-up of tension seems to make your peak last longer than you could have imagined and the movement of his thumb as he continues to stroke you forces the sensations to thrive. Mewls of pleasure escape your throat as you coil your body around him, wringing out every feeling as you chase your pleasure.

It is not until you regain your breath properly that he pulls free of you and your left hand is quick to release his body and wrap around the glove that is slick with your juices. Bringing it to your mouth, you accept the two fingers past your lips as you suck at them greedily, putting on a show of running your tongue along the fine stitching as you taste yourself.

Grunting his approval, his voice is decidedly hoarse as he acknowledges your efforts.

“You certainly are something, pet.”

The scent of sex is high in the air and you breathe it in for only a moment before one of his metal arms snaps into action and makes you jump in place slightly. Following the arm with your gaze, you watch as it picks up a small bottle of what appears to be hand lotion from corner of his desk before depositing it in his outstretched glove.

Bringing his free hand to his mouth, his teeth are quick to pull free the leather glove before repeating the process with the other hand, swapping the lotion to do so.

“Can I see your wrists?” The question is subdued, much less pointed that his previous tone, and you present both wrists to his gaze. Red markings surround the skin of both, the result of your pulling against the metal, but such marks would easily disappear within hours.

The lid of the lotion opens with a soft click as he squirts a little of the white liquid in his hands, rubbing it together for a moment to warm it up, before wrapping his hands around your wrists and rubbing the red skin there gently.

It is a sweet gesture and one which makes you sigh softly as you enjoy the touch; the scent of musky violets tickling your nose as the perfume from the lotion becomes detectable. His skin is rough in patches beneath the gloves and you can feel some light scarring on the pad of his left pointer finger as it moves over your pulse point.

“That feels nice.” You breathe out, tactfully ignoring the sticky mess between your thighs as you try to avoid spreading it on his slacks as much as possible, “Thank you.”

“No,” he refutes quickly, “I should be thanking you. That little,” he pauses for a moment, “game was quite something. I don’t think I’ve done anything like that since college or maybe since-”

His words trailed off with his thoughts and you allow him the privacy of his considerations.

Dropping his hands from your wrists, he reapplies some lotion to his palms and he fixes you with a gentle stare as his metal arms wave softly in the open space behind him.

“I hope I didn’t truly hurt you,” regret touches at his tone and you shift closer at the insinuation, “despite my words, it wasn’t my intention.”

“Nothing I wasn’t able to handle,” you answer and you moan in your throat as his hands press your body up enough to allow him to lay his palms on your ass, “and I pushed you into it. So, any faults would be mine.”

His palms move slowly across your heated flesh, rubbing the lotion into the skin marked by his own hands with something bordering on reverence as he keeps his movements as gentle as possible. The lotion feels warm against your skin and your hands splay out across his chest as you allow him all the free access he needs.

This, more so than anything to come before it, makes you feel off-kilter as you recognise the kindness in the act and the fact that such a thing was quite unnecessary. Not that you were keeping track, but this was the second incidence of him craving physical contact after intimacy and the stark difference of that little fact compared to how ruthless and cruel the media were quick to paint him as made a slight sadness creep into your chest.

It was hard to think that this man, so witty and brilliant and with such moments of softness in his intimacies, spent his days steeped in a criminality which you could barely fathom.

“How do you feel?” His voice breaks into your thoughts as his hands move free of your ass to rest across the base of your spine, keeping you pinned against his body as he enjoyed the warmth you were providing.

“Sated,” giving him a small smirk, you are quick to follow up with a more robust answer, “but also a little hungry. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Considering your words, he is silent for a moment before responding.

“Hmm, if you don’t object to returning to the entrance of this building to collect food from a driver then you are free to order something here.” One hand slips free of your back to wave carelessly at the nearby sofa, “There are a few menus tucked by the side of the sofa that will deliver here.”

Glancing over at the sofa, the thought of moving from this position is untenable and you dip your head into the side of his neck as you relax fully against his body.

“Yeah, maybe later.”

BONUS: This beautiful piece of art from rawmehn (go follow them on twitter) which captures the vibe of this scene perfectly.

Chapter 6: Random Snippets and Drabbles #2

Notes:

Apologies for the delay on the next part! My job is riding my ass very hard at the moment and trying to get stuff written is a nightmare. I do have it all planned though so please forgive me. In the meantime, have these assorted Otto/Reader drabbles which I have accumulated over on tumblr.

As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated xx

Prompt - "You heard me. Take. It Off."

“Even from here you look ridiculous,” Otto’s strong voice carries easily as he enters your shared bedroom and takes stock of the overly large leather coat which is draped over your shoulders, “so take my coat off. It needs washed.”

“Oh,” humming deep in your throat, you keep your back to him, “this is your coat? I didn’t realise.”

His huff of laughter is soft but his voice is firm as he reiterates his demand, “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Twisting your body around to give the full effect of your outfit, you can hear his sharp intake of air and his mouth drops open almost comically as the heat of his gaze rakes over your naked skin which is only barely covered by his jacket.

“I was using it to try out a new look,” you muse with a coquettish wink as the warmth of the fabric makes you smirk, “what do you think?”

The jacket smells of him, of his colonge and the undertones of his natural musk, and you inhale deeply as you take in the scent as it mixes with the leather.

For a man his size, he sure knew how to move quickly and you barely have time to blink before he’s got you within his grasp. Two metal arms make their presence known behind your waist, pushing you forward roughly to ensure that your naked frame is pressed against his thick body.

“I think you’re a minx who needs to learn to not touch other people’s things.”

His hands are quick to slip within the coat, ghosting past your hips as his fingers dig into the uncovered flesh of your ass; again forcing your body even tighter against his as the soft cotton of his vest brushes against your chest.

Placing your arms around his neck, you give him a moments notice before pulling your weight up and wrapping your legs around his hips, forcing him to support your ass with his knee as his arms lock around your waist.

“The whole point of this outfit was to encourage touching, Dr. Octavius. Not to dissuade it.” You mutter into his ear, “Besides, with what I have in mind, you might want to save the washing for another hour or two.”

“An hour or two?” His left brow quirked at the optimism and you grin in response.

“Only if you can keep it up for that long.”

 

Prompt - "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

The thin sheet tucked neatly beneath your neck does little to hide your naked frame from his gaze and you did not miss the way his eyes dropped to your chest as you gave an exaggerated inhale and exhale to shift the fabric.

Shrugging, you answer him with a vague smile.

“Is there a reason you aren’t?”

“Nice deflection,” he tips his head in your direction as his hands sink deeper within his pockets, “so what’s going on?”

“You’ve been working since noon.”

A smear of something black and viscous, oil probably, is spread across his forehead and a faint metallic scent makes your nose crinkle.

“I’ll have lunch soon.” His sigh is deep and the placating nature of it makes your forehead crease with a soft frown.

“Otto,” you speak with some accusation, “it’s past dinner time.”

A low hum escapes him, “That would explain why I’m so hungry.”

Seeing the opportunity as you release one of your hands from the blanket to reach for the bedside cabinet, you pick up a large bowl of fresh fruit and place it invitingly on the sheet by your side. Taking great care to ensure that your upper half remains covered, your hand dips within the bowl and plucks free a strawberry.

The fruit is vibrant and you run it along your lips for a second before taking a small bite, the action garnering a soft moan from you as the sweetness fills your mouth, and his openly hungry gaze as he watches you eat doesn’t slip by your notice.

Sitting upright, you allow the sheet to fall from your upper half, exposing your chest fully as you unleash the final stage of your seduction attempt, as you run a finger along the rim of the bowl in open invitation.

“It’s delicious,” you purr, enjoying the way which his eyes snap down to your chest and seem loathe to leave, “come to bed and ill let you try some.”

A smirk of victory curls your lips as he drops to one knee to begin hastily unlacing his shoes, preparing to join you on the bed, and you throw open the sheet for him with a salacious wink.

“Bon appetite.”

 

Prompt - "I'm pregnant."

There was never a pleasant way to open a conversation with ‘we need to talk’ and you could feel the immediate tension within the room as you shuffled over to perch on the sofa while he elected to remain standing.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was terse but the concern woven through it was undeniable as his eyes roved over your body, seeking out any damages.

Even the actuators, twitching in position, seemed to respond to the tension as you inhaled deeply.

“Nothing wrong,” you soothe as your hands wring themselves against your lap, “it’s technically good news.”

Holding his eye, you deliver the news in one fell swoop.

“I’m pregnant.”

Two things immediately became clear to you.

The first was that not asking him to take a seat was a massive oversight on your part as he appeared to sway for a moment, several mixed emotions flashing through his expression, before shock won out as his body folded like a paper bag, sending him to the floor as you gasp in surprise.

The second was that his arms appeared to retain their sentience even when he was rendered unconscious, a fact that you were unaware of, as they moved quickly enough to support his thick body and prevent it from colliding with the floor too harshly.

They remained in place, providing a softer cushion than the floor as you stood from the sofa and approached his fallen frame. One of the metal arms slipped out from beneath his legs to look at you with its robotic gaze.

“I think that went well.” You mutter, holding out a palm to allow the actuator to lay on it, “I hope. I might need your help to relax him after he wakes up from his little stress nap.”

 

Prompt - Attention (ft. Norman Osborn)

The unyielding strength of the actuators is clear against your wrists and ankles as you give a pathetic wriggle against their tightened grip. Your fingers scrape across the metal gently but they show no signs of loosening as they hold you firm in a standing position. A slight breeze whistles along your naked flesh as you are left on display and exposed; vulnerable to the wishes of the two men whose eyes are roving over you like a prized trophy.

A sudden heat is pressing against your back and you can feel Otto’s hardness, pinned between his body and your ass, as he purrs in your ear.

“Are you ready, pet?”

“If she’s not then I don’t mind warming her up for a while,” Norman’s silky voice is laced with heated amusement as he stands before you, looking like a cat who finally had the canary between his claws, “I like my toys to be malleable.”

His suggestion cutting your own answer off, Norman’s hand is firm against your chin as he pulls your head forward to meet his own. His mouth dips forward, catching your lower lip between his sharp teeth for a soft bite, before pulling away lazily.

“Is that what you want?” His fingers kneading into the soft skin of your shoulders, Otto massages the tension there with a practised ease as he speaks, “Do you need some more warming up, pet?”

Groaning as his fingers manipulate a particular sweet spot between your shoulder blades, the groan is quick to slip into a pained grunt as Norman takes the slip in attention to wind his hands around your exposed chest and squeeze roughly.

“Oh my god…” You mutter unsure which pair of hands you want to lean into more as the dual sensation of pain and pleasure makes your teeth chew at your lip and thighs rub together.

Hands slipping lower, Otto concentrates his sweet ministrations on your upper back while pressing his lips against the nape of your neck and you rub your ass against him in open encouragement.

Norman, having apparently noticed the movement, gives you a wolfish wink before catching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers; tugging at them none too gently as he forces your attention back to him.

“We’re waiting for your answer, sweetheart.”

Chapter 7: Valentine's Day Special (Otto Solo Fun)

Notes:

I know you've been enjoying the exploits of our dear reader and Otto, so here is a little unexpected treat of what Otto gets up to when the reader is off on her own adventures.

This was a request made over on tumblr that I was MORE than happy to fulfil.

As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated xx

Quick, laboured breaths and the unmistakable sound of skin-on-skin were the only noises to break the silence of the small bedroom as Otto enjoyed the small break in his work to take some pleasure in his own hand.

His fingers gliding smoothly over his hard length, the small dollop of lube he had added to the mix was allowing him to set a frantic pace without compromising too much of the delightful skin friction that was making his chest shudder with every stroke.

Fully nude as he lounged like a king on the reinforced bed, a reinforcement which had proven to be necessary due to the heavy weight of his metal arms, the heat of the room was offset by a steady breeze which danced along his skin from the opened window.

His cock felt heavy and hot within his hand and his thick digits moved along the familiar girth; every stroke making the tight band of arousal in his groin clench as he neared his peak. Almost there, he ran his fingers along the head of his cock for a short moment to maximise the sensation before pulling his hand away just before he came.

Unleashing a soft whine as he gripped the fingers of one hand within the sheets to resist the urge to finish himself fully, Otto settled his other hand on his thigh as he groped the skin there roughly.

A loud grunt of surprise escaped his chest as his hands were suddenly wrenched free of his body and pinned to the wall above his head; his ankles each simultaneously being trapped within the grip of an actuator which kept his legs spread and his knees unable to close.

“W-what are you doing? Stop this.”

His panicked tones lacing themselves with his frustrations as his pleasurable ministrations were once again forced to cease, he could feel the heavy frown of his features as he stared down the remaining actuator which was bobbing before his face.

“Let go of me.”

The metal arm appeared to tilt for a moment before the faintest whisper of a negative response flitted through his mind. Even through the haze of lust and mild panic, a sense that he was to relax knocked at his consciousness and he realised that the AI was influencing him in an entirely new manner.

Within his mind, the whispering reassurances and demands of compliance were enough to settle his spine as he rested against the headboard once more. His actuators had never harmed him before and a confidence whistled through his resolve that they would have no reason to start now.

“Okay.” He muttered, giving a wholly unnecessary verbal response to the situation as he released the struggle of his ankles and wrists.

The whirr of the actuator as it sprang to life, vibrating in the air before him, made his stomach inhale sharply as the metal approached his bare chest, pausing for just a moment before brushing against his peaked nipple.

Arousal surged through him as the strong vibration made his left nipple tingle with pleasure before swiftly moving on to the right.

“Hrrrm…”

His grunt was rough, barely audible and raw with his arousal, as the sensations in his chest went straight to his cock and from his vantage point he could see the small beads of pre-cum which escaped him as his cock twitched against the warm skin of his lower stomach.

A sense of pleasure which was not fully his own washed through his mind and surprise lurched through him as he felt the AI of his arms taking satisfaction in his reactions.

Emboldened, the actuator dipped lower to press itself gently against the base of his cock and the intensity of the sensation, giving his previous edgings, drew a gasp from his throat as he slammed his head back against the headboard.

A slight pain rippled through his scalp as his hair was caught in place drew a inhale from him as his fingers scraped against the metal of the actuator pinning them above his head.

Bucking his hips against the vibrations, a groan spilled from his lips as the metal moved up his cock, drawing dangerously close to the ultra-sensitive line where the shaft met the cockhead. His toes curling against the sheets, a series of garbled moans and curses broke free of him as the metal applied a feather-light touch to the area, allowing the vibrations to do the work while an almost cruel level of intense pleasure radiated from the area.

Seemingly pleased by the reaction, the actuator divided its attention between the underside of his shaft and the sensitive head; each movement drawing him closer to the edge as a thin sheen of sweat made his forehead feel damp. His pulling against his restraints was utterly futile and the added intoxication of being helpless against his own creation made his head swim as pride tinged the unyielding arousal.

The delicate edging which he had been enjoying prior to this development had left his cock overly sensitive to begin with and the tell-tale tightening of his groin as it prepared for his release approached more quickly than he would have liked.

Biting his lower lip as he grunted out his climax, the band of arousal snapped and turned his thoughts to mush as the pleasure overwhelmed any other sense; his ankles and wrists clawing at the metal binding them as his hips bucked into the air, every thrust making the contact with the actuator stronger.

His eyes clenched shut, a wetness made itself known on his stomach above the metal girdle as he came all over his gut. Below his cock, the tops of his inner thighs pressed together roughly as he continued to ride out his orgasm.

The ongoing stimualtion, now painful in its intensity, roiled through him as the actuator refused to let up its torments of his sensitive cock. Every vibration felt amplified as his cock brushed against its own release as it twitched against his lower stomach, unable to escape the onslaught.

His thighs bucked off the bed as they sought some relief from the overstimulation but his restraints prevented any true reprieve as his whines grew more vocal, desperation making them sound pathetic even to his own ears.

After what felt like an eternity, the vibrations stopped just as suddenly as they had come and Otto unleashed a soft moan as the tension within his body was finally allowed to relax. His ankles felt tight within the actuator due to his attempts to free his legs and he could vaguely make out the freshly-reddened skin at the sides of the metal.

His hands were released without warning and he quickly dropped them to his stomach, resting the wrists atop the metal girdle which supported his actuators. One hand moved lower to brush against his overly-sensitive cock and the slight movement was enough to make his body jerk in place.

Suspended in the space around his body, the actuators had a definite air of satisfaction around them as they viewed their master with a sightless gaze.

“Let’s not make a habit of this.”

Glancing to the sideboard as he spoke in a low tone, Otto jumped as his cigar was presented before his face before he could blink and, in another moment, it had been lit and was held delicately between his teeth.

Taking a deep draw, he held the welcome smoke within his lungs before exhaling deeply, his thoughts utterly occupied by this latest development in his wayward AI as excitement and shame churned a torrid mixture in his chest.

Chapter 8: Summer Special: Predicament Bondage

Your eyes are locked on to the back of Otto's head as he sits only a few feet before you and continues to ignore the keening noises which are emitting from your lips with every passing moment. His hands are hidden but you can hear the tinkering of metal as the sound washes over you just like the cool breeze of his workshop.

As bare as they day you were born, the cool air makes your nipples peak and you press your back against the wall to keep your balance. Supporting you, locking around your wrists and ankles to ensure that you are unable to move more than a few inches up and down, are his actuators and the metal is surprisingly warm as it pins you in place.

The predicament of your situation is this; either you hold the position which he has lovingly pinned you into, or you suffer the consequences of your failure to obey him by subjecting yourself to an unrelenting torment which he will not interfere with. The torment in question being a mounted and wickedly placed vibrator which is humming along at a rapid pace, the very tip of it only just ghosting along your slickened slit if you keep your body suspended on your toes.

It's not an easy task and every slight slip on your part forces a fresh wave of overstimulation to encompass your clit as it pressed down on the staunch vibrations; the sensation so sudden and overwhelming that it makes your body jerk on panic with every hint on contact. Sweat makes your back uncomfortable as it tickles down the skin and you can feel the unbearable ache in your feet as you force yourself to remain in the unnatural position.

However, it was a losing battle.

Unable to support your weight any longer, your feet drop to the floor and the insatiable buzz of the vibrator mashes itself between your folds; hitting your most sensitive point with a laser focus and the sheer intensity of it makes your mind white-out for a second as the strong vibrations take your breath from your lungs.

"Fuck! Otto!" You cry out, unable to prevent the outburst as you quickly step back up onto the balls of your feet, giving yourself a brief respite as the edge of the vibrator just whispered along the edges of your soaked sex. "Please, just fuck me."

Turning his head over his shoulder at your words, his thick brow cocks for a moment as he takes in the sweat-touched appearance of your skin and the obvious flush which you can feel plasted across your cheeks. The heave of your breasts catches his attention for a second but he is quick to refocus on your desperate gaze as he shakes his head softly.

"That kind of language isn't allowed, pet. You know that." He feigns disappointment but you can see the open arousal in his brown eyes and the clear tension in his bared arms as they clutch the wrench between them. "So if that's how you want to act then I'll ask them to stop playing nice."

Obeying their masters unspoken command as you splutter out a panicked and garbled response to his heated words, the actuators loosen their grip on you for a split second; forcing your body to drop slightly before once again pinning you to the wall.

Feet now planted firmly on the ground, there is nowhere to go to escape the waves of torturous pleasure which are cascading from your core to each of your struggling limbs.

So close the edge, the fresh onslaught to your clit is enough to push you over and you scream out your release, fingers scrambling against the metal of the actuators with a frantic grip as your eyes squeeze shut to prevent the tears there from obscuring your vision.

Whined pleas and wicked screams break free of your lips in equal measure as your orgasm is prolonged by the vibrations, the sensations an agonising mixture of pleasure which bordered on pain as you strain against your merciless bondage.

It isn't until several minutes later, when his thick arms wrap around your waist to lower you gently to the ground, that you realise the vibrator has powered down. 

An overstimulated mess, you cling to the soft roundness of his gut as he grips you gently, his deep brown gaze swimming with pleasure as he drinks in the looseness of your limbs and the smile which his soft touch brings.

"You did so well, pet." He soothes, guiding you over to his work chair so that he can deposit you in his lap; releasing a soft exhale as you brush his clothed erection with your thigh as you mold yourself to his warm frame. "My perfect little star."

Chapter 9: Public Sex (5 Sentence Fic)

The harsh stone of the wall as it collides with your back makes you grunt in place as his hands delve up your skirt, fingers hooking within the waistband of your panties with an almost desperate edge as his metal arms cage you in place.

"Otto," you growl but the words are not nearly as threatening as you would like, instead coming across as an invitation than a warning as you press your hands against his covered chest, "what if someone sees us?"

"Then I'll take their eyes." He replies, tone full of teasing beneath the very real lust which has set his dark gaze ablaze as he drinks in the very sight of you.

Any response is quickly cut off by a low moan which is stifled by your knuckles as his thick fingers rub along your slit, the growing wetness there making his movements slicker with every stroke.

"Are you ready, pet," his words are pure arousal in your ear as he guides your hands to the clear tent in his slacks, "to be fucked in this filthy alley where anyone could stumble onto us?"

Chapter 10: Hostage (5 Sentence Fic)

You can imagine how it looks.

You, breathless and obviously flushed with a outfit in utter disarray, being swung limply in the air by Doc Ock, noted supervillian with a tenuous view on morality and acceptable actions.

"Help me, he's holding me hostage!" You cry out, beating clenched fists against the metallic arms as your vision blurs with unshed tears.

"What are you doing?" Otto asks as he watches your antics; lips barely moving as he speaks quietly from the very corner of his mouth with vague amusement.

"Well, I can hardly tell them we're fucking!" You hiss back, covering the retort by dropping your head into your hands in a show of faux-distress.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Sinister Sex