#Doc Ock x reader

[eloisyw8]

💗 ?

[strange-mage]

Painted this a while ago

Doc Ock is just...

...

Yeah

[amphibiahawks321]

M!Reader : .....Olivia you are doing this whether you like it or not!

Olivia : But it's almost done!

M!Reader : .....

M!Reader : love you said that a week ago... Also I'm pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags!

[Shows Y/N trying to drag her out of the lab but Olivia uses her tentacles to stay put]

M!Reader : You're going to take a rest! We can do this all day because I know you wouldn't land a hand on me!

Olivia : Sweetness, OVER MY FLESHY BOD–

[Cut to Olivia curled up in a blanket clinging onto Y/N from behind]

M!Reader : over your body indeed...

[verysmolnerd]

Being the spouse of a Supervillain

You're the only person who he won't hurt. Why would he? You've been at his beck and call since he couldn't remember when.

However, you feel that you're walking on eggshells at times when the actuators have control of his psyche.

He keeps urging you to move on, that there was no place for you here; in the rickety old building you've shared since he bought the place. He honestly doesn't want to see you have a close encounter with the reaper again.

That being, you stay put, that the man you married is still in there. The shadows of his smile is hidden behind that snarky smirk. Some of the -rarest- most quiet nights, are spent on the torn up couch. It's almost like nothing changed at all.

You put your life on pause for a moment, you didn't go into work at all for weeks. You knew there would be questions, there always would be.

When you do come into work, you were given reduced hours because your boss wanted you to mourn the man you once knew, you refrained from answering any of those prying your personal life for issues. You normally report them within a few days, and then they're working in a whole different complex.

Even if the actuators are permanently a part of him, it's still Otto. His habits are still there, no matter what he tries to tell you.

You've also noticed that the arms still respect their creator to some extent, they never lay a finger on you. If they grab you, they are slow and patient never brutal.

One time you had gotten bruised from the pressure that the arms gave when they placed you away from the project. They soon fell limp while Otto had the nastiest look on his face. He never looked at you when he was like this.

He is always a gentleman to you, through layers of frowning.

The actuators only want his project done, therefore your Otto is just their puppet. However, they see you as a distraction until the beings of machine realize that Otto is human.

So, there isn't long lunch breaks together as you're used to before this mess. However, he eats in silence; in fear of the actuators lashing out on you for just seemingly wanting shreds of your life with him before.

You don't comment on his encounters with Spider-Man, you know all too well that the superhero gets bad press on the regular. Not to mention, Otto- sorry, you end up correcting yourself when the actuators are in control- Ock isn't entirely fond of him.

You knew exactly when Otto was too tired to fight the AI influence, because there have been consecutive all nighters the closer the reactor gets to being completed.

The times when the actuators keep him glued to the desk are when you try to get him clothing and alter them to accommodate the four tentacles protruding from his lower back.

There was one night that you consider was very special within the past few months that his magnum opus welded themselves to his back.

He had found some of his old outfits that weren't destroyed, and pressed down any urges from the arms.

"May this broken man take you out on a date?" You were near tears as you accepted.

He brought you to the top of a building with a makeshift table. It reminded you of your first dinner with him back in college.

He tells you that he's going to find a way to remove the arms and start anew. He wanted you to buy an apartment and to bring him to it on a specific day.

Considering that he's fighting for his life to look like the man you knew and loved -although you've reassured him multiple times that you still love him- you agree in a heartbeat. Happy that you'll both have a semblance of what life was before this.

The day to pick him up from the docks comes and you find no sight of him or the shambles of your house. It's all deep in the river below.

You can't recall how long you stayed there, but you had to live on. Live, that's what he always wanted you to do.

It's very hard at first, but life goes on.

One night -you can't quite remember what day it was specifically- you got a knock on the door.

You open it a little and it's Otto, with a small smile, holding a bunch of flowers.

Tears are brought to your eyes as he walks in, "I had a feeling that you'd buy the one we got back then." Any snakiness left him when he realized that you thought he was dead.

He promises to explain everything, but tonight he holds you as long as you needed it.... you ended up holding him hostage in your bedroom until the next morning. Even then, you don't let him out of your sight for a while.

He then explains in terms that you both can understand -because he finds himself not believing anything of it even after he's here. He was brought to another world just like this one where he was given a new component that prevented the arms from taking him over.

So, he starts the rejuvenation process, and does the community work to get back into society. He's stayed off nuclear fusion snd stuck strictly to advanced robotics.

However, you both still stayed at that apartment you first owned with him years ago. Never wanting to live on the water again.

There was one day where he brought you all over town, he brought you to so many places you visited together in your past. He had to be careful of the press patrolling for him since he returned. A former supervillain and a scientific powerhouse? That get's the press moving all over the place.

He then brought you where it all started, and proposed to you again. "I stand before you as a changed man, I love you so much. Will you marry me one more time?"

How could you say no?

It seems that you still have to alter his new clothes, but you don't mind considering how much more appreciative since he doesn't go around shirtless anymore.

He's cautious when using the actuators, only having them clean up and not touch you. Until you reassure him multiple times that you are fine with it... a few months later he's using them to trap you in his embrace.

You have him back, a second chance, and neither of you are going to screw it up.

[wycroftie]

Some fan art for an absolutely GOATED fanfic by the lovely @rancid-zinnia-onthepatio <3 (You tentacle my fancy)

I am frothing at the mouth I can’t wait until more chapters come out :33333

[plush4bunny]

⚠️: version of Comic!Otto Octavius with his actuators for the same Doc Ock x reader fanfic that @chrism02 wrote called "Wish list"

scene from the fic: "His hand stops midair as he was bringing his glass of whiskey to his pink lips. He puts it back down and tilts his head, enough so his eyes can go up and down your figure. You flush because his gaze seems to linger as he roams over you, paying special attention to your face.

He turns properly and gives you a charming smile that makes you pause. You never saw your enemy smile like this."

[noforkingclue]

(doc ock anon) Hmmm how about: You’re in a shitty marriage to some contemptuous prick high-ish up at Oscorp. He’s not necessarily “nobody” but not exactly a “somebody”. He is a strategic choice and conveniently everything even the old Otto would have hated. One night, Doc Ock reappears after months of absence and breaks into your home to shake down your husband for access to something or other from Oscorp.

Of course anon! Hope you like the fic :)

Title: Leverage

Warnings: dark fic

“Oliver? What’s going on?”

Otto cocked his head to the side, noting the panicked look on your husband’s face. He’ll admit, he wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there that night. He had heard that you were going on a business trip and would be away for a week. Clearly that intel was wrong (in that case his source would have to be punished) or the trip had been cancelled last minute.

Either way, he now had leverage against this pathetic waste of skin.

You slowly walked into Oliver’s office, pulling your dressing gown tightly around you. You had only walked a couple of steps in when you saw Otto. You froze and just as your flight or fight instincts kicked in, a metal claw curled around your arm. You let out a shriek as you were roughly pulled towards him.

“Let her go!” cried Oliver

However, Otto just slammed him against a wall, a metal claw around his neck. You were lifted off the ground and you hit the arm. This did nothing but amused Otto.

“Now then,” he said, “I think this,” he shook you violently, “might make you more… cooperative.”

“Look, I already told you-” Oliver began

“Then find a way,” Otto said quietly, although that didn’t detract from the danger in the words, “or your precious little wife will suffer the consequences.”

“What? She has nothing to do-”

“She does now.”

You let out a shriek as you were hoisted high into the air. You shut your eyes tightly as you hung helplessly above New York. You wished the Spiderman would come and save you but that would come with the risk of Doc Ock dropping you. You didn’t know if Spiderman would be able to catch you in time. However, it seemed the Doc Ock had no intention of letting you go. If anything his grip on your tightened when he left your flat. Your arms curled around his metal arm tightly and you let out a small whimper. You didn’t see the small smile that Otto gave at the action.

“We’re here.”

You let out a yelp as you were suddenly let go. You were expected to fall through the air but you only dropped a short way. You opened your eyes a crack and pulled your legs up against your chest. It looked like you were in some kind of loft. You could imagine that it must’ve cost a hell of a lot of money and that he bought it before he was…

Well…

Before his accident.

“Where am I?” you asked quietly

“That isn’t important.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“You’re safe.”

“Why should I believe-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. A metal claw pinned you to the floor by your throat. Doc Ock stood over you and looked you up and down. Originally you were just meant to be collateral. To make sure that your waste for space husband did exactly what he was told. But now, well, now he had you stretched under him and at his mercy. Your thin dressing gown left hardly anything to the imagination.

Oh yes, the two of you were going to get to know each other very well.

And maybe he won’t give you back afterwards.

[andromedas-pearl]

Trying my hand at Otto fluff. Hope y'all like it! 💜

Little Reminders

This is Pre-Incident Otto for context.

Even a meticulous man like Octavius can overlook a few things every once in a blue moon. When it happens, it leaves him pondering the oversight for hours if you don't reel him back from the whirlwind of thoughts he has for the day.

Why did he forget certain things that seemed so obvious? So clear as day? Was it because of his preoccupation with finally completing his magnum opus of a machine?

Or did all of his late night tinkering finally catch up to him? He'd be damned if he told you were right. As much as you mean to him, he's not giving you bragging rights. He'll never hear the end of it.

But he loves it when you come in the check on him. The way you gently rubbed his shoulders as he hunched over his desk on the verge of progress. Your soft hands gliding up and down the fabric of his lab coat on rough days were heaven.

But there were days where you meant business. The faint yet chiding taps on his back were your way of making sure his posture was straighter, and he'd indulge your request to appease you and your insistence on sitting up.

It was done in good faith, though. Otherwise, you'd be hearing him lament about aches in his back and neck for the next few hours.

When he forgets to come down for dinner, he always finds a plate of his favorite meals and endearing notes to enjoy it, on his desk.

He'll smile at them, save them in their own little folder, and then thank you for being a darling with an appreciative kiss before resuming his work. He was so caught up on the reactor that time just got away from him.

When Otto does finally have downtime, your efforts to make sure he doesn't neglect himself and his needs don't go unrewarded.

In the wee hours of the morning, he shuffles off to bed to join you, eventually. Pressing a small kiss on your forehead and briefly catching the scent of your soft hair, before wrapping his arm around your side and whispering hopes of sweet dreams and a bid goodnight.

During the day, Otto's brain goes a mile a minute, trying to get everything accomplished. But in the evening, he'll never have to be reminded to wish his darling goodnight. That's one thing he'll never forget.

[heliosynchronisity]

i see ppl looking thru my cy/doc ock stuff 👀

i was just looking thru my sketches uploading stuff to toyhouse and while seeing my pile of self insert/doc ock stuff is a LITTLE post-drunk-blackout horrifying... at the same time... i was right. So ima compile them all into one post for ur viewing pleasure for u ock freaks uwu

so here's all my cyber and doc ock doodles I made between 2022 and 2023 :] and roughly in chonologiccal order

tbh i do still often think of these guys, if i have some time i may draw them soon and even attempt to work on the fic. but no promises. I'm finally out of my art funk and i dont wanna overwhelm myself haha.

So for now, enjoy the trip down memory lane ^_^

[so-very-small]

it's not that difficult | doc ock x shrunken!reader part two

[link to part one]

[ao3 link]

Summary: It's been a week since you shrunk down in front of Otto. One week in a bird cage, of being a lab rat, and you decide it's time to escape. Of course it won't be that easy.

a/n: this was written at the request of @miniemew! it's a continuation of my previous Otto x tiny fic, and it was a blast to write. reader is gender neutral, and this goes heavy on the fearplay. that said, I hope y'all enjoy!

The past week has been a strange mix of awful and mundane.

And the open bird cage before you seems almost more like a test than a blessing.

Tests. That's what the past week has been. Otto had swept you away, into some dingy apartment that looked far too normal to belong to a supervillain. Still stuck at the unimpressive height of two inches tall, there was nothing you could do when he dropped you in a bird cage before vanishing. Despite his intense curiosity, the man had other things on his plate, evidently. He was gone for most of the nights and mornings, but in the evenings, he always had a few minutes to spare for you.

For studying you, more accurately.

Checking your vitals, measuring your height, maybe an endurance test on a hamster wheel - which was now more annoying rather than outright embarrassing. On one occasion he had drawn some blood with a needle that seemed too tiny to exist. Whatever data he had gleaned from you was carefully recorded in a notebook, before he returned you to the bird cage.

(To be fair, it actually is a pretty nice bird cage.)

It's silver, the sturdy bars just thick enough that you can't bend them out of the way, and spaced too close together to even think about slipping through. The metal bottom is covered with some fabric, an old shirt if you had to guess, which actually was quite comfortable to sleep on. The entire set up is suspended over his desk, with a relatively large door that latches tightly from the outside.

Except, this time, he hadn't quite latched it all the way.

Otto's gone right now, and it's night. If his pattern over the past week continues, he'll be gone for a few more hours at least. It takes a world of courage to even cross the bird cage over to the door, anxiety blooming in your chest. The latch was usually unreachable, but with it barely in its slot, it could spring free if you jiggle it just right. The fall to the desk would be survivable - Otto had sussed out that your shrinking had left you with some enhanced durability. From there you'd just have to find somewhere to hide, until your body finally decided to return to its normal height.

(It's as good a plan as any.)

(And frankly, it was the only plan you had. So, may as well.)

Taking in a shaky breath, you carefully take hold of the door, giving it a slow, tedious push up and out. The latch slips loose of its hold, and the door to the cage swings open with an audible creak. You cringe at the sound, eyes immediately flying up to scan over the messy office, as if Otto would conjure out of the shadows at the faintest noise. You stay perched at the door for a moment, listening carefully. There's absolutely no response - no movement, no distant sounds from further in the apartment.

After gauging the safety for a second, you decide to proceed. You jump down onto the desk, not giving yourself time to overthink it. The desk is chaos, loose wires and stray bolts scattered about, almost every surface covered with some form of scribbled down notes or blueprints. Organization is evidently not Otto's strong suit, and it takes a minute to navigate around pencils and bolts to the back of the desk. There's a small gap where it meets the wall, the cord from the desk lamp falling down to the ground behind it.

You don't really have time to weigh the small range of options you have right now, so you decide the cord is as good a move to get to the floor as any. It's just big enough to hold onto like a rope, and you carefully work on climbing down from the desk, ignoring the massive drop beneath you. With enhanced durability you wouldn't die from it, but it still wouldn't be pleasant. You'd scaled even higher climbs in your home before, but under less dire circumstances. The fear that Otto might return soundly trumps any anxiety over climbing down the cord.

You make it to the dusty floor soon enough, pausing for just a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is positively drumming in your chest, the sharp buzz of adrenaline running under your skin. You only rest for a second, though, before continuing onward, not wanting to linger any more than necessary.

The apartment was more of a workspace than an actual home, something you notice while navigating over and around the multitude of mechanical parts on the floor. It takes a minute to get your bearings, trying to find the door beyond all the scattered clutter, but you eventually find it. Out the office, down the hall, out the front door, and you'd be home free.

Escape is the only thing you have on your mind, as you swiftly creep through the messy workspace. It doesn't take too long to reach the door, the gap underneath is just big enough to squeeze through, out into the hall. The carpet fibers come up to your knees, making walking just a touch more challenging, but that's one of the last things on your mind right now. Turning right, you see the looming front door in the distance, like a beacon of hope. You immediately begin jogging towards it, a small buzzing bit of excitement starting to grow in your chest. Relief washes over you as escape gets closer and closer.

A heavy crash breaks the stillness in the air, and you immediately run into something sharp and hot. You stumble back like a bug bouncing off a windshield, falling to the ground. In front of you is an actuator, the massive claw clenching down into the carpeted ground, just a few sparse inches away from you. The actuator flexes slightly, metal whirring softly as you hear a soft chuckle behind and far above you. Paralyzed in place, the warmth of excitement immediately shifting into chilling dread, it takes everything you have to look over your shoulder.

Otto stands behind you, with a soft smile on his lips that only he could make look sinister. He lifts a hand, waving his fingers at you lightly like you were just an acquaintance at a grocery store, and not a captive in the middle of an escape attempt. You have to tilt your head all the way back to even get a glimpse of his dark eyes, the sharp curiosity in them sending another pang of fear down your spine.

The actuator rises up, causing you to whip your head back towards it, half prepared for the thing to snatch you up in its claw. It doesn't, though, instead it pulls back further and retreats behind Otto.

He looks down at you expectantly.

"Try again."

You stare at him for a moment and only just a moment, before scrambling to your feet and sprinting like your life depends on it. The drag of the carpet fibers slows you down a little, and you fully ignore it, intent on putting as much distance between you and the looming villain as you possibly can.

(But... that's what he wants, isn't it?)

(A chase.)

Heart pounding furiously in your chest, you zoom down the hallway, lungs nearly bursting from exertion. Over the rush of the wind in your ears you can't hear a single sound behind you, and you don't dare turn back to look. You make it to the very end of the hall before you hear the first footstep crash down behind you.

The living room is far less cluttered than the office, leaving nothing to hide behind, no last resort. The carpet transitioned into hardwood, making running just a touch easier. You stay focused on the sliver of light from under the front door, and not the sound of Otto casually following you, covering more distance in one footstep than you did in ten seconds.

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you find Otto practically on top of you. He'd closed the gap in no time, with that same awful smirk on his lips. The actuators are poised behind them, all their glowing eyes are trained on you. Otto's hands are carefully folded in front of him - making no move to grab you even as your speed slows down in the slightest.

(He's toying with you.)

(And the outcome of this was likely predetermined long ago.)

Without warning, a heavy boot slams down in front of you. You stumble, the small quake of his foot hitting the wooden floor being enough to knock you off your feet. The boot's angled carefully, just far enough to miss you. It's practically bus sized, utterly dwarfing your minuscule frame.

You stay still for only a moment, frozen with the icy fear that floods your veins. A distant chuckle rumbles overhead like thunder.

"Last chance," Otto says, from far, far above.

Despite the overwhelming futility, you scramble to your feet, quickly looping around the shoe in your path. It doesn't move, thank god, and you continue sprinting to the front door. Every bone in your body is screaming out for rest, but you don't dare stop.

The gap underneath the door gets closer and closer, as close as the booming footsteps behind you do. A foot away, ten inches, five, almost there .

And then Otto slams an actuator down, the tremor of his metal claw on the ground knocking you straight off of your feet once more. You hit the floorboards hard, heart pounding sent into overdrive as you catch sight of the looming claw in front of you.

Scrambling upright again, you shuffle backwards from it. The claw darts up, pointed prongs of metal now directly facing you. There'd be no way to run past it without running into it, so you dart to the right, further into the living room. There's practically no energy left in your body at all, lungs and limbs burning from exertion, and you don't dare stop. The overwhelming sound of creaking metal follows you, and there's a harsh yank on the back of your shirt as you're swept off the ground by the actuator.

You struggle, although the grip it has on the back of your shirt makes it far too tight to slip out of. Fingers scrambling up, you hook them between the collar of the shirt and your neck, trying to ease up some of the pressure.

Something eclipses the light overhead, and you barely have time to process the giant hand in your vision before it swallows you up. Otto snatches you in a tight fist, arms pinned immobile to your sides. He raises you up to his eye level, at a speed that makes the whole world swirl around you, vertigo in overdrive. His sharp brown eyes light up once you're in sight, a crinkle around the corners giving away his excitement.

Despite the overwhelming helplessness, you struggle, attempting in vain to loosen the hold of his fingers wrapped around you. His hand didn't budge a centimeter, if anything his grip tightened in the slightest amount, just enough to knock a little air out of your lungs. Otto doesn't say a word, he merely turns to the sofa in the living room, quickly crossing over to take a seat. A notebook is perched on the coffee table, and he flips to a half-filled page with his free hand, quickly writing something down.

"Was... was this a test?" You sputter out, half convinced the man would ignore you entirely. Your voice is strained, still unable to get a proper lungful of air with his fingers around you, but his brown eyes do flit to you for a moment.

Otto lowers his fist to the table, loosening it and roughly dropping you onto the coffee table. You land on top of a stack of sticky notes, and you don't dare move. Even if you wanted to attempt to run again, you're far too exhausted to even try. You let yourself collapse, still trying to catch your breath.

"Of course," Otto answers, not looking up from the page he was still scrawling on.

He eventually glances at you, leaning in slightly closer. Otto fills your entire vision, his looming for making you feel like you were in the front row of a movie theater. A little bit of brown hair fell into those dark eyes, which flicked down as he carefully took your form in.

"I wanted to see how fast you could run," he says, smiling once more. His voice is polite and even, as if he didn't just admit to terrifying you on purpose. He turns back down to his notes, still jotting a few things down. "Obviously, your functions are affected when I monitor you closely for tests. I wanted something a little less structured than a hamster wheel."

He finishes writing, carefully setting down his pen on the table. His eyes snap back to you, looking at your face carefully. You're still breathless and sore, trying to gather yourself mentally and physically from the escape attempt, and you feel absolutely pinned under his gaze.

"You couldn't really have thought you were going to escape?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"I... I kinda did, yeah," you reply. You'd never snapped at him, never raised your voice, but the adrenaline still buzzing in your system and the absolute fury and exhaustion you feel can't help but spill out a little into your tone. "Even if I got caught, I had to try."

Otto nods, surprisingly accepting your answer with ease. He leans back on the sofa slightly, actuators draping over the back of it. His eyes are unwavering, still pointedly trained on you.

"Admirable, if not reckless," he says, "I must say though, you're far safer with me than you would be out there. I can't imagine what Oscorp would do if they got their grubby hands on you."

Pushing yourself up from the sticky notes, you rise to your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite how correct he probably was, that wasn’t his call to make.

"Can't be worse than a goddamn hamster wheel," you mutter. Despite keeping your voice low, Otto does catch it, and he laughs brightly. He almost seems harmless for a second.

"I can assure you, my dear, they would not be as kind as me. I'm curious, but I do not intend to do you any harm. Other scientists, well, their methods of discovery aren't always so kind towards their specimens."

You narrow your eyes at the man, trying to gauge if you should believe him. There was no doubt that Oscorp would have been a nightmare if they had found you, and in all honesty, living at the apartment wasn't going to work out long term. You didn't need confirmation that the world outside was dangerous, but you still wonder how honest he was really being.

"You won't hurt me, but you'll keep me in a bird cage for a week?"

Otto shrugs, unbothered by the accusation.

"Can’t risk you running off and hurting yourself," he says.

He leans in once more, slowly bringing a hand down in front of you. The same one that snatched you up earlier. You look at it warily, waiting for it to grab you in a fist, pinch the back of your shirt and dangle you, but he doesn't. He simply lays it level with the sticky notes, right in front of you. You can feel the heat off of his skin, see the shift of his muscles as he waits.

"May I?"

(He'd never asked if he could hold you before.)

(You can see his fingers twitch in impatience, and decide not to push his kindness too far.)

You gingerly step onto the man's calloused palm, feeling his muscles and tendons twitch underneath you. It's a little hard to keep your balance, but he brings his thumb up, something for you to brace your hands on as he raises his palm to his face. It's far closer than when he was looming over the table, all the minuscule details on his face magnified.

"As far as I'm aware of, you're the only one like you in existence," he says. He lowered his voice for you, the usually brash and proud tone now just a quiet whisper. It was still overwhelming regardless. "I wouldn't allow harm to come your way, that would entirely deprive me of figuring you out. I am still just a physicist at heart, dear, you cannot expect me to not be fascinated by a person who can change their bodily mass on a whim."

You can feel the heat coming off his hand, the shift of his thumb under your palms. From this close, every time he exhales it ruffles your hair in the slightest. His eyes are a mix of a dozen brown shades, still locked firmly on you, and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"It's not on a whim," you correct.

(If it was on a whim, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.)

"But it could be," Otto says, "Someday."

With that, he rises to his feet. The thumb you're holding onto gently pushing you back, knocking you off your feet and pressing you into his other fingers, coming to rest around your waist like a makeshift seat belt. A small noise of protest escapes your lips, ignored as Otto takes up his notes and walks back to the office.

(It takes him just a few seconds.)

(All the agonizing minutes you had spent running, trying to cross that distance, and he closes it in just a few seconds.)

Otto enters the office, quickly reaching the desk and taking a seat. You half expect him to immediately return you to the bird cage. He doesn't, though, fingers shifting you slightly in his palm, so he can rest his elbow on the desk, leaving you sitting in his hand at eye level. His thumb stays locked over you, like a heavy weighted blanket in your lap.

(You don't think you could get it to budge, even if you tried.)

"You honestly know less about your shrinking than I do, and I've barely begun to scratch the surface," Otto says. He speaks with a certainty that's just a little grating. "Your powers are incredibly unstable now, but there's no indication that it will always be that way. And even so, I still want to know how it works, what makes you tick."

He looks down at you, with that familiar glint in his eyes. It's positively piercing.

"And I can promise I'll be less invasive than any other scientist you meet who wants the same thing."

Looking up at the man, you can't help but believe him. Your work at Oscorp had been brief enough to not see anything too awful, but you knew that the company had a dark underbelly. Otto, at the very least, wouldn't be killing you anytime soon. You can see on his face he's expecting a response, and you shrug.

"It's not like I have a choice, is it?"

Otto chuckled humorlessly, the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Clever little thing, aren't you?"

With that, his other hand sweeps in, two large fingers gently pinching around your chest and back. It knocks the wind out of you slightly, but his grip is careful, holding you just tight enough that you wouldn't slip from his grasp. He lifts you from his other palm, gently setting you on the desk. His warm fingers stay in place until you're balanced on your feet, and then he pulls away gently.

That clinical curiosity never once leaves his eyes. He glances behind you, searching for something amid the mess of his desk. When he reaches out for it, his arm arches over you, eclipsing the light overhead. His bicep practically becomes your entire sky, and in a second it's gone, once he grabbed the ruler behind you.

"Stand straight, my dear," he says.

You know the drill well enough, you stand up just a bit straighter as you feel the ruler fall into place behind your back. It presses flush against you, the cold plastic sending a chill down your spine. Otto leans in closer, dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the tiny numbers marking your height. His eyebrows raise, evidently a little surprised before he leans back in his chair, the ruler clattering down onto the table.

"You gained half an inch," he says, and you can't tell how he feels about that. There's a clinical edge to his tone, covering any real emotion.

You can't quite even tell how you feel about that. Half an inch was fairly inconsequential to regular sized folk, but it was everything to you. Things had seemed a touch smaller than before, but you didn't think you had grown that much. This was the longest you'd been tiny, and knowing you were growing back - if incredibly slowly - was something of a relief.

"Huh," you can't help but say out loud, showcasing a little of your surprise. Otto quirks up an eyebrow.

"You didn't notice?" he asks, with a small tilt of his head.

You shrug, slouching a little now that you don't have to hold yourself up.

"Everything is big at this scale, there wasn't much of a visual change," you say, "It's all still overwhelming."

Otto nods, and you can see the gears in his head turning once more. It's always obvious when he's thinking hard about something - leaning in, eyes narrowed, something intense in his face. It makes you feel like a bug under a microscope, fully on display, analyzed at every angle.

"Interesting," he comments. "I imagine at a certain point it's hard to gauge anything's size accurately, like estimating building dimensions just by viewing them. I don't blame you for not noticing."

(It's kind of a little surprising how well he gets it.)

"And you also said you grow back instantaneously, correct? This isn't typical, is it?"

You take a second before nodding, thinking back of all the times you had shrunk alone in your apartment. Most of the time you'd fall asleep tiny, and wake up normal sized - it was rare you were actually awake for growing back. The few times you had, you had only short bursts, and those were generally exhausting enough to knock you out regardless.

"I'm usually asleep for it," you say, "I just wake up at my usual height. I'm always pretty sore after."

Otto chuckles.

"I'm not surprised. I can't imagine your physical form changing that much, that rapidly, would be a comfortable feeling. If you do wind up having discomfort with growing back, I can give you something for the pain."

You don't reply instantly. You merely look up at the man, trying to read into his expression, figure out what's beyond the clinical curiosity on his face. He seems passive, detached, and then he expresses concern in the same breath. It's a little confusing, and you're tired of being confused.

"So, what's your deal?"

Otto raises his eyebrows, evidently not expecting the pointed question. He doesn't speak, but merely looks at you expectantly, tilting his head slightly as he waits for you to clarify.

"So you want to figure me out like a science project, I get that," you say, and you try not to think about if it's stupid to speak so candidly to a giant supervillain, "But why be nice to me?"

Otto's expression remains blank, and he leans in closer. Both his hands come up to rest on the desk, one on either side of you, palms pressed down onto the flat surface. His long fingers make you feel fully surrounded on all sides, that feeling only increasing when his face stops just a few relative feet from yours. His brown eyes lock onto you, and when he speaks, the breath from his lips ruffles your hair like the wind.

"You think I'm being nice to you?"

You swallow thickly, nervously looking up at the man. You resist the urge to stagger backwards - any distance you could put between the two of you, he could close in a fraction of the time. This close to his face, you can see every little imperfection in his skin, every single fleck in his eyes. It makes you forget what you're saying, for just a moment.

"I-I mean, you said yourself you're being kinder than other scientists," you say, voice coming out just a bit more timid than you'd have liked it to, "And if you really didn't care, you wouldn't worry about the pain from growing. It... I just..."

You pause, tilting your gaze down to the desk. The fake wooden swirls in the wood seem positively fascinating, much more easier to look at than the giant face in front of you. You can still feel the heat off his hands, the pressure of his gaze still on you.

"I'm sorry," you say after a second, "I'm... this is weird, I've never been kidnapped before, I'm still adjusting."

Otto stares at you for a moment more, before chuckling lightly. You hear the low noise intimately, the exhale gently brushing over your skin. He draws back, his face and one of his hands retreating to give you some breathing room.

"Ultimately when I figure out your powers, you'll have figured them out as well. At that point, you'll either escape and be clever enough to utilize said powers to evade me, and that will be the end of it. Or, you could stay and help me."

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you look up at the man. There's nothing but sincerity in his features, something almost as surprising as his words.

"Help you?"

"Someone who can change their size at will could be quite an asset to my work. I'm more than capable of most things, but the actuators don't lend themselves to subtlety well. I think I could get some use out of someone who can be a touch more discreet when the situation calls for it."

He wanted you.... to become a supervillain?

That's honestly not what you expected.

"So... you're being nice to me so I'll help you break the law?"

Otto shrugged.

"To put it simply, I suppose."

In all honesty, it isn't that bad of an idea. You'd heard the stories of Doc Ock, you knew he was terrifying, but he wasn't the worst as far as supervillains went.

"I'm... I'm not a killer, or anything."

Otto leaned back in his chair, and he carefully drummed his fingers on the desk. Each tap sent a small shake through the wood, reverberating through your tiny frame. With the hand so close it was almost overwhelming, seeing fingers twice as tall as you are moving so swiftly, and it's all you can do to try to not look unnerved by it.

"I'm hardly one myself, dear. The actuators do the dirty work, it's not something I'd expect of you." He pauses his tapping, thinking for a moment before continuing. "The media likes to highlight my more... uncontrolled moments. My real plan is actually nothing evil at all, it's simply a device that would create unlimited clean energy. Were you to help me, I'd just need your assistance in getting some parts, materials, that sort of thing."

He seems like he's being genuine.

There's no hint of a lie in those eyes, and while you know this man is dangerous, he's no less dangerous than everything else is at this size. Even if you didn't wind up helping him down the line - his thought on you escaping when you can control your powers was a good idea, actually - it'd be smart to play along.

His hand next to you rises up, carefully and slowly. His fingers approach you, and you try not to flinch back. It's almost like watching a bus directly come at you, the size and speed overwhelming, but you can tell his every motion is meticulous. Extending his pointer finger, he gently presses it to your back. Moving it down in almost a petting motion, a small smile flits over his lips.

"However, that's not a topic of conversation until we get a better grasp on your abilities," he says, "When you're useful enough to be an asset, we'll talk then. But for now-"

"Bird cage?" you interrupt, unable to keep back a small sigh.

Otto smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling up. The rest of his fingers dart forward, carefully flexing around your frame and scooping you up once more. You tumble back into the digits, quickly held in place by his thumb as he brings you back up to eye level.

"Oh, I thought we were beyond that?" he says, "Friends, and all that."

Otto stands to his feet, further making your head spin as you're shot up relative stories by the movement. Your hands come up to brace on his thumb, well aware the loose grip he holds you in is the only thing saving you from a long fall to the ground below. Otto raises his free hand, tugging back his leather jacket. The hand holding you drifts towards the inner pocket, and your eyes widen at the sight.

"Hey!" you yell out, because you don't necessarily want to be in a bird cage, but you definitely don't want to be in his pocket right now either. Otto doesn't respond, instead he tugs the pocket open, and drops you inside.

You tumble down roughly into the cloth, and it takes a second to scramble upright. Looking up you can see a sliver of light from the opening of the pocket, swiftly extinguished when he drops his coat back against his chest. It's warm, especially pressed right up against him, held in place by the thick leather of the coat.

"There’s a few things I need to attend to tonight,” he says, and you can feel every word shake through your bones, “Thanks for the company, my dear.”

Letting out a sigh, you relax back into the pocket, letting the warmth of him wash over you. Everything shifted slightly as he started walking, and you shut your eyes. Accompanied by the booming sound of his heartbeat and your exhaustion, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

[eloisyw8]

inspo

[delicatepurity]

Now what if I told you I wrote my first fic for Halloween…. Because I did!!

Sorry if it’s bad… I just really wanna get my work out so criticism is appreciated!

Anyways here’s a Halloween fic with Doc Ock!

Halloween Angel

~ Fem!reader, suggestive language, creeper hitting on reader >:(, reader has shitty friends, drunk reader..

The endless sea of toxic alcoholic fumes and half naked bodies drowned you as a terrifying realization yanked you by the back of your hair. Oh wait, that was some girl who was dancing. But you did realize, your friends ditched you. There you stood, trying to keep your balance as the beat of the song rumbled the floor like an earthquake. You came with a group of friends, and none of them were to be seen. You reached a point of carelessness as you pushed aside people to reach the exit. Like a light at the end of the very long tunnel. The gateways of heaven inching closer to you the more you fought the half naked bodies clashing against each other.

Like a suction cup releasing a loud pop! You were set free. Now the chilly garbage winds of New York curled around your body. The smell of gas has never been more comforting. You decided it was futile to even try and look for them further. You knew they weren't at the club, and there was no chance in hell that you would wander through mysterious streets you didn't know on halloween night. So you carried on from the direction you came, and tried your hardest to remember your way home.

You weren't drunk drunk, just a bit tipsy. That's all! But you definitely weren't drunk enough to forget all that has happened today. The constant back handed comments like “You know my costume wouldn't look good on you!” or some other bullshit. And how you couldn't forget that they all had matching costumes. And you were left out. You guessed it was the age old tale of, “you weren't added to the group chat sweetie!” Man you needed some new friends. You seethed in frustration as you continued down the sidewalk. Faint music slowly disappeared as your thoughts muffled it further. And thankfully you were too consumed in frustration to not notice the side glances and whistles from across the street.

The graze of this man's shoulder against yours could have made you hurl all the contents in your stomach.

“Watch out!” He snarled. But you continued on, trying your hardest to make it home as quickly as possible. Yet this man just would not stop.

“Hey, trying to ignore me?” You rolled your eyes and clutched your purse as he caught up to you.

“C’mon sweetheart. Be a nice little angel and-” His voice was cut off by a thud. You both looked over to the dim eerie alley way. Like a flaming ball in the night sky a flashing red light appeared in the darkness. Another lit up, and soon 4 scarlet red orbs were gunning the both of you down.

Metal whirring revealed a glistening claw extending from the alley. It inched closer to his face, reaching the tip of his sweating nose. A giant man stepped out from the darkness, like a demon rising out of the ashes. The man's presence alone scared off the other. He ran off to the other side of the street, squealing like a pig as he scurried along. You leaned back to look at your savior in all of his glory. His head nodded down to you, his ruffled mane curled a bit over his dark frames. His aura was familiar, like it gave you a heightened sense. But you just couldn't find the answer. And in a burst of confidence you blurted out,

“Nice costume.”

A look of confusion washed over Doc's face. He saw it all go down and immediately began gambling options on how to handle him. Too bad he ran before he could act. And although the idea of you not running or screaming was surprising enough, but now you made it clear that you didn't know it was him. But he also knew that by the way you were walking that you were intoxicated. He contemplated for a moment. Would him making it apparent of his identity skew her view on him? Should he just say something, or go along with it? He decided the latter was the best option. He didn't need any more attention drawn to him tonight.

“Thank you sweetheart. Yours is exceptional.” He responded, scanning your body up and down. Your face heated up at the compliment. And that decadent pet name could have made you swoon.

“Thank you. And what are those?” You asked, pointing at the actuator that still held its place in the air.

“They’re uh, puppets. If you will..” The bead of sweat rolled over his eyebrow as he cringed at how blatant his lying was. And what was more astonishing was how you believed every word he said. Swallowing the sugary spoonfuls of lies he fed you so graciously. You hummed and smiled at him.

“Super cool! Mine isn’t as good.” You said looking down at the pearly white heels you wore. You sported a flowy white dress, wings strapped to your back, and a halo headband to emulate an angel. And despite the fact that not only was it a simple costume, there should be at least 20 other women in a 5 mile radius with the exact same thing on. Hell, you even ran into one at the club. But nevertheless you could tell he was still looking you over, even if he had those dark menacing shades on.

“I'm so sorry! I haven't thanked you for, uh, saving me.” He only nodded in response. You both stood there, awkwardly taking in the silence of the street.

“Would you like to walk with me?” You asked. Now normally you would have thanked the scary man and quickly run home, but you weren't thinking straight and if you were being 100% honest with yourself, this man was terrifyingly attractive. Well at least the parts you could make out since it was dark out. And he just did a nice service for you so, how bad could he be?

How funny is it when your keys don't work? When you just can't find the correct one that fits into the slot. It is insanely funny, because you are laughing harder and harder as you stumble with your gigantic collection of keys and keychains. Even he’s laughing at how ridiculous you’re being. Man that alcohol was getting to you. Finally one goes into the lock and you open your door with a wide swing. You lead him into your house without a lick of hesitancy. And as nonchalant as you were about it, he was radiating with anxiety. The fact that you didn't know you were bringing a well known criminal into your house was scary, even for him.

“Welcome home!” You exclaimed, tossing your purse onto the kitchen counter.

“Nice place.” He said, sitting down on the couch. You replied with a sweet “thank you!” and looked at him. You two had a nice conversation as you walked together, but over time it became so freeing that you had no issue taking him inside. Not that you two would do anything!..

“I'm curious. Do you normally bring strangers home?” He asked with a sly smirk. One that made you laugh a bit nervously.

“I did bring you in here didn't I..”

“Yes, you did.” Silence hit the both of you again as now you were swimming in waves of consciousness and ignorance to it all.

“Well you seemed nice. If you were going to hurt me you would've done so sooner.” You said in response. He accepted your answer and crossed his legs, leaning back into the soft cushion with a huff.

“Do you want something to eat?” You asked, feeling a bit hungry. He nodded and watched as you disappeared into the kitchen. Your wired halo bouncing as you scurried along. He made sure to keep the actuators relaxed and low to the floor so as to not be suspicious. But their constant nagging and questions almost made him implode. He studied your living room, looking at all the cheap halloween decor you had. He found it humorous that you decorated a small NY apartment for seemingly no one but yourself. Or at least that's what he assumed since you hadn’t mentioned any roommate, and you certainly weren't having a party or you wouldn't have been at that club. He heard a slam come from the kitchen and the sound of a microwave.

“I'm making popcorn, is that ok?” You asked, sitting down beside him on the couch.

“That's alright with me.” He replied plainly. His husky voice seemed to linger in the air like a spirit haunting you. Suddenly your mind became very cluttered. More cluttered than usual. The room felt a bit humid, you could even feel the ends of your hair frizzing up. Playing with the cheap press ons you had and relishing in the sound of the cry glue cracking just to keep you preoccupied. And his gaze was undeniably dense. His presence alone took up the room, now you even thought you could smell him. Sizzling butter, how strange?

“Something wrong sweetheart?” He broke you out of your trance.

“No! It’s quiet in here isn't it? I should play something on the tv.” You swiftly grasped at the remote and switched on the tv to some mindless channel.

“Some friends you have, huh.” You turned to him holding a picture frame that laid against the small coffee table you had beside the sofa.

“I mean they’re good. Sometimes.” You admitted. You had already explained to him the events that night and he was pleasantly understanding.

“Why do you hang around them? Surely you deserve better.” He placed the picture down and gave it a disgusted look. Almost like the picture frame itself was foul and tainted.

“Well they showed me the ropes around NYC when I first moved here. I couldn't just ditch them after that. Besides, you can be my friend now.” I smiled at him. He cocked his head in amusement and gave a small, almost unnoticeable, nod.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

You jumped as the alarm to the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished. You couldn't form a coherent reply so you stood and ran to get the food. Your face felt as heated as the piping hot bag you plucked from the microwave. Opening it up and feeling the smoking heat blow onto you and inhaling that buttery popcorn was refreshing. You pour it into a bowl and return back to the couch.

“Here! Would you want to watch a movie?” You asked switching the channels to find the station that played classic halloween movies. He reached in the bowl and snagged a couple kernels. You noticed his sleeve being a bit tattered. You actually noticed a couple things about his costume. How insanely real it was, his clothes being dirtied from nature and not forced makeup. His costume resembled more casual clothes. Like items picked from the back of a closet. And his shining metallic puppets, the warmth of the sunset tinted lamp reflected off of them. Giving them a halo glow. You almost noticed how your costume was an actual costume, and his wasn't.

“Staring an awful lot isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He said.

“Uhm. May I ask, who are you supposed to be dressed as?” He sat in silence, his boot tapping on the floor bouncing his leg continued, and he stared straight ahead, not sparing you a passing glance.

“Think a comic book character.”

“Ohhh! That makes sense!” You exclaimed. No wonder you were so confused! Silly you being anxious and worrying, he's just a huge nerd! You relaxed back into the couch, enjoying the slasher film on screen. You reminisced for a second on your childhood. How you used to like comics but they were long gone and replaced by Japanese manga and romance books. You almost wondered what happened to those comics of yours.

“And you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Oh cmon, you know what I am.” Undeniably you were an angel, you felt a bit confused as to why he had asked. But you brushed it off as just his nature. How he always seemed to make a sly comment at you or a joke you had no rebuttal to.

Your breath hitched as his knee bumped against yours. You never even noticed how he slowly inched his way closer to you on the couch. And now that you noticed the proximity between you, you felt nervous again.

“Such a sweet thing, you. An angel represents how kind and naive you are.” His gloved hand ran through strands of your hair and twirled it around his finger. You could feel the goosebumps litter through your body as you tried to respond to him. He just had this power to shut you down and turn your brain to mush. Mush that he could toy with like putty.

“I.. Your costume is cool too.” God you were awkward. And how you hated when he laughed at that. You couldn't tell if it was out of pity, or mocking. Either way you wanted to disappear into dust and fall between the crevices of the couch. The very same plush couch that indented as he leaned in closer to you. His fingers slid along your back, tickling your baby hairs that rested on your neck, and placed his hand on your shoulder. Giving it a soft squeeze that paralyzed your entire being.

“You shouldn't drink so much alone, little angel. And you most certainly shouldn't bring men home. Men you do not know.” His words were stern, like bricks pummeling down onto you. And in a common situation you would already know this. But your now slightly drunken state just has you giggle.

“Im sorry sir. I should have asked for your name.” You said. At the word sir he stiffened and dropped the smirk.

“You wanna play games?” You laughed at that. Turning your head to hide away your flushed face. He hummed and reclined into the seat.

Admiring him was an understatement. It was more like ogling but, you weren't a slime. It’s just that his appearance made you drool. Sure his costume was a bit questionable, his overall ambiance was breathtakingly ravishing. And you were most certain that the alcohol was carrying you tonight because without it you'd be a fumbling mess. After placing the bowl down you slightly leaned closer to him now, bringing your finger to his bare chest. He jolted at the contact, now it felt as if you were in control. The lion tamer trying to get a trick out of its pet.

“So, what do you do for work?” You asked, slowly raking your finger up his plush stomach. He even had a metal corset on him, fashionable!

He grunted, “A scientist.”

“Ooo, in what?” You cooed. Now placing your palm on his sizzling skin.

“Nuclear physics.” His voice wavered, your hand coursing him to give in more than he already has. He knew he should've left when you suggested you walk together. He knew he should’ve rejected the idea of him going into your home. But you were too addicting, and it was all becoming too much for him.

You peered up at him, the alcohol and butter radiating off of you. His hand drew up to your chin, holding it in place ever so gently. The room felt like gravity ceased to exist and that time held no value. His face was inches from yours, the tips of your noses faintly pressed together.

“I think it's time you go to bed, little angel.” The room felt heavy once more and every single thing came crashing down.

“What?” He let go of your chin and stood up, almost knocking you back into the couch.

“I have to head home.” He said already heading towards the door.

“No! Wait!” You snagged his arm, tugging at the thick leather sleeve.

“When will I see you again?” Your vision was almost fuzzy, contorting his silhouette into that of a dark figure lurking in places it doesn't belong in.

“Check the channels.” He responded and opened the door. You looked back at the tv, a scene of a girl's intestines splatting onto the camera played.

“But..” The click of the door signaled his departure. Now your living room was full of the perfume that clung onto your dress. And he disappeared so quickly, like he was sure of himself. And little did you know that he was fighting every thought that told him to go back to you-To his angel.

[verysmolnerd]

Dating Pre!Accident Otto Hcs

When this man says he got lucky with love, he MEANS it.

He grew up in an environment that wasn't entirely supportive of him, so to have someone at his beck and call is a completely new experience for him. It takes a bit for him to come out of his shell.

Don't be mistaken by him being flustered, he normally oozes out confidence, but love is a whole different ball park for him. That being, you get to see a whole new side of him.

He's extremely professional at work, but behind closed doors anything goes (wink wonk)

Hugging at work? *gasp* How scandalous!

Regardless, his colleagues and assistants know about you. They're glad that you drag him from his office when he starts to work at the ungodly hours of the night and morning.

That does go both ways too, he's hoisted you over his shoulder when you glued yourself to your desk.

He's a sucker for physical contact, the second you sit on the couch he's already got you in his trap. He's already put on an awful movie on screen and you're trapped in his arms for and indefinite embrace.

On the rare days where you both don't have to work, he's taking you on walks all throughout Central Park or some museum's special exhibit.

He LOVES museums. One time he dragged you to Washington DC to visit all the Smithsonian's. Even with sore legs, he was so interested that it might as well been overwhelming. You had to sit down on a bench for awhile, but you were an active listener to his entire experience.

He may be a man of science, but he's known to have interests of other kinds. If he finds intrigue in a subject that you know quite well, it makes it all the more better.

He loves a good info dump, any subject that you have recently hopped on; you won't be the only one on board.

Turns out, he's also quite the fan of mystery novels.

The bookshelf in his loft over the lab is full of physics textbooks he's had since college, books written by colleagues, and an impressive collection of Agatha Christie novels.

He leaves the novels all over the place, dog-eared on the kitchen island or buried under mail. Sometimes he's a bit helpless, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

When he starts to work on his lifelong project, his magnum opus, you are there every step of the way.

He shows you the progress every single day; and you're astounded every single time. Any progress made, big or small, meant the same to you. He is amazing.

You got lucky with love.

You are his, always. As you watch him put on his metal harness, watching him get ready to show off a manmade sun off to the world.

[wycroftie]

Should I start writing fanfic/hcs? Give me ideas perhaps.. idk…..

[crabonfire]

Can we please get a TSSM Otto X Reader where both are extremely touch starved and Otto has no idea how to react at first because reader just wants to touch him any way possible like hand holding, cuddling, hugs, knee touching, all kinds of physical affection😂 In the end of course he is gonna love it💚

TSSM Otto x Touch starved reader!

AWWWJAHHAHA this is cute! I'm pretty touch starved myself so I can relate :)

character: tssm pre octofication! otto octavius

note: this one's silly, a little cute, maybe even a little goofy

warning: none :)!

♡Otto Octavius♡

• Honestly, I like to think he's also pretty touch starved. He never got much luck in love as a teen and throughout his life, he felt jealous when he'd see people hugging or kissing. He wished that was him.

So when you two start to date and he realizes how much you hug, kiss, cling on to him...he feels a bit honored.

• First of all, happy. Of course. Second of all, he's nervous as hell! Nobodies ever shown this much love to him at all.

• One of the first times you show him this affection is during some of your very first dates.

"Otto! It's nice to see you again."

"Ah, yes. I-its nice to see-"

He stops himself when he feels you hug him tightly. He feels like he's gonna burst. That was so sudden!

• You'd always hold his hand, or lock your arm with his, and when you do he'd always have such a shy expression on his face. Anytime people walk by they'd comment on how much of a cute couple you are, even before you guys made it official.

• His favorite thing that you'd do tho is when it's late and he finally comes home after hours and hours of work. He sees you asleep, and if he ever accidentally wakes you up, you'd simply smile at him and kiss him, pulling him in and holding him, going back to sleep like nothing happened.

He finds it the cutest thing to wake up to your arms wrapped around his chest in the morning, snoring on his shoulder with the tightest grip so that you can't let him go.

• Honestly this trait of yours has made him less shy over time, and feeling how honest you are about it he's quite honest about his own touch starved nature. He loves when you cup his cheeks or kiss him all over, or blow onto his hand while it's cold...he's become a romantic just for you 😭

• For a long time, he'll be a blushing stuttering mess with your antics, but after that, honestly, he lives for your affection. He loves how touch starved you are. It's cute.

♡♡♡

I think this is kind of boring IM SORRY IF IT WAS I just woke up after a nap and I saw a new short request I could do HAHA anyway YAYYYY otto ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*

[plush4bunny]

"His hand stops midair as he was bringing his glass of whiskey to his pink lips. He puts it back down and tilts his head, enough so his eyes can go up and down your figure. You flush because his gaze seems to linger as he roams over you, paying special attention to your face.

He turns properly and gives you a charming smile that makes you pause. You never saw your enemy smile like this."

- scene from @chrism02's 1st chapter for their cheeky Comic!Otto Octavius x reader fanfic called "Wish list"