Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Who the hell is ordering pizza to some abandoned warehouse on the harbor?”

“Probably some stoners.”

You glance at your friend’s phone screen displaying the address for delivery on Google Maps. “It’s only one pizza, though,” you point out. “I’d imagine a bunch of potheads would want more for the munchies or whatever.”

“Whatever indeed,” your friend says flatly. “Y/N, you think you can take care of this one? It’s for a ‘Cope R.’ I’ll pay you back.”

“Sure.” You take your friend’s phone and set off on your route. You and your friends all worked as DoorDash drivers together, kind of like The Babysitter’s Club. You always enjoyed seeing what colorful characters you would meet on your deliveries. The fact that this individual instructed the pizza to be left at the door only intrigued you more.

You park your moped in front of what can barely be called a building anymore, fallen apart and half-sunken into the Hudson. You carefully walk across the splintered dock, contemplating where “the door” would be to leave the order. After standing in place for a moment, you shrug and gently set down the cardboard box near the front of the warehouse, away from the water. You tick off on your friend’s phone that the order was completed, and as you walk back to your vehicle, you hear the sounds of movement behind you. But, when you turn around, there’s no one to be seen. You let out a slight noise of interest and continue back to your moped.

“Oh, hey! I got the warehouse stoners!”

A few days had passed since your drive out to the waterlogged hideout, and it would seem that your mysterious customer was back for more. Something about “Cope R.” had enticed you; you couldn’t explain why, but you needed to meet them.

“Could I… take that delivery?” you hesitantly ask.

“What, you got a crush or something?”

“No!” you snap back with hot cheeks. “I haven’t even seen them in person yet. I dunno, I just… I just kinda wanna know what they’re up to in there. It didn’t look like a very comfortable hangout.”

“Drug addicts are weird, Y/N,” your friend says, passing off their phone to you. “Just stay safe.”

“Why are you so hung up on that?” you rhetorically ask as you head out to pick up the order.

This time, Mx. R. has ordered a bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, and a chocolate milkshake. Damn, they had good taste. You return to the destroyed warehouse and once again carefully step over splintered wood to approach the entrance. You set down the paper bag and disposable plastic cup, praying they wouldn’t get wet. You walk away, hear a rustle, and curse yourself once more for missing the person who’d grabbed the order.

You look down at your phone, glancing back at your friends, hopeful that you were hiding your racing heart. You’d finally gotten an order from Cope R., after days of your mind wandering back to them. You can’t put it into words, but you’ve just been enraptured by this anonymous individual. Thankfully, you’d been delivering for a few hours, so no one would question you if you ended your session here. You silently head outside and zip away.

You’ve picked up the order (a chicken sandwich with curly fries) and have it safely in your bag as you motor down the road; you’ve memorized the route to the abandoned warehouse by now. You park, remove your helmet and stride toward the warehouse. You walk closer to the building than you had previously, peering inside through the demolished facade. The front portion had collapsed into the river at an angle, and you tilt your head accordingly.

Inside, you can see some wooden crates stacked here and there, but they look pristine compared to the dilapidated state of the building. As you look around, you’re suddenly and violently yanked into the air by some unseen force.

“AAAAHH-! HOLY SHIT!” you shriek, clutching your paper bag close to your chest. You’re whipped around, turned face to face with a tall man (though you’re higher in the air than him) scowling at you. He looks to be in a bad way, hair mangled, eyes tired, and generally battered and bruised.

After the initial shock, you’re finally able to register what had grabbed you - a mechanical, snakelike appendage protruding from the man’s back, alongside three others like it. Three dangerous-looking claws ready to tear you to pieces.

“Oh my god…” you mumble between panting breaths. “You’re Dr. Octavius.”

Chapter Text

You stare into the eyes of Otto Octavius; the latest “supervillain” plastered all over the news. Although he glares at you, there’s a softness in his features, as if a fragment of him doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I’m… I’m your Dasher,” you manage to sputter out. You slowly hold out the bag, hoping you didn’t crush its contents too badly. Another one of the arms reaches out and takes it, handing it to Otto.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, glancing away from you. “Let them go.” You’re about to ask what he means when the arm suspending you in the air gently lowers you to the ground. It takes a moment to process all that had just happened.

“Are those… Artificial intelligence?” you ask after hesitating a moment.

Otto looks up from removing the packaging on his sandwich. “Yes,” he responds with stiff politeness. You know you’ve completed your job, and yet your feet are firmly rooted to the ground. Your mind is flooded with a thousand things you want to say to the doctor.

“I heard what happened to you.” You pause. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you still here?” Otto flatly asks, sitting on a wooden crate, occupied with his food. You can feel your cheeks heat up.

“I- I dunno… I just…” You trail off with a sigh. “I guess just, having to deliver to such a weird location, and not knowing who was placing the orders. It all got me too curious.”

“Well, now you know. So leave.” Otto still doesn’t look at you. “And don’t go telling anyone that I’m here.” One of the arms snakes through the air to look at you, but somehow, it seems more curious than malicious. That doesn’t stop you from inching away from it, though.

“I- I won’t. But… I’m not leaving just yet, either,” you choke out, steeling your nerves. Otto tilts his head to look at you, resigned to the fact that he won’t be getting rid of you that easily.

“Fine. So what are you going to do, call the police? Take some pictures? Have a good laugh at the man who got in over his head and paid the price?” The arms coil around him as if giving a cold, mechanical hug.

“I already said I wasn’t going to reveal your location,” you firmly retort. You hesitantly move closer towards Otto. He pops a curly fry into his mouth. “I just- God, I know it’s stupid, but… I feel like you could use a friend.”

“What makes you think that?” Otto replies, almost offended, yet with the sense that he already knows the answer.

“You’ve… You’ve lost everything,” you say cautiously. “Your experiment ended in tragedy. Everyone in New York thinks you’re a monster.” Your voice wavers. Saying it all out loud makes your sympathy for this man overflow, manifesting itself in tears. You can hear a quiet sniffle come from Otto, followed by silence.

“Her death will not have been in vain,” he says in a low growl.

“Her-? ...Oh.” You press your lips together, remembering hearing on the news that Octavius’ wife had died during his presentation. Otto rises to his feet and further as he walks on the lower two of the mechanical arms. It’s a rather unsettling sight.

“If that damn Spider-Man hadn’t interfered, I know it would have stabilized.” Spider-Man. Another public figure the media loved to twist around. You fear that anything you’d say to Otto would only anger him further, and the wheels turn in your mind. You follow him over to what appears to be a ramshackle, makeshift lab.

“How does it work? The, uh, energy source?” you quietly ask. Otto turns to you, looking confused. He takes a moment to process what you said.

“It’s powered by tritium, an exceedingly rare hydrogen isotope,” Otto explains, tinkering with some sort of mechanical piece on his table. “I needed an immense amount of funds to rebuild the reactor from scratch.” Dr. Octavius had recently robbed a bank, causing mass hysteria. Now you knew why. The incident had also earned the doctor the nickname “Doctor Octopus,” what with the robotic tentacles. The news sites always loved hamming up these “superheroes” and “supervillains.”

“I think that’s cool, trying to make clean energy.” You sit down on a nearby crate. The silence is painful, even with the sounds of engineering at work. “I… haven’t even told you my name yet,” you say, laughing nervously. “It’s y/n.”

“I know. It tells you the name of the person that’s delivering your order.” Your face turns red, and you look away from Otto.

“Oh. Right.”

“My name’s Otto.”

“Yeah. I know from the... news and... stuff.” You fidget a bit with your hands. “Is, uh, there anything you might need help with?”

“I can’t imagine why you would want to help a criminal.”

“Otto, I-” You stop yourself. “Dr. Octavius. I don’t see you as some petty criminal. I can see that you’re a human being who’s in a lot of pain.” You pause, deliberating your next words. “I want to be there for you.” God, why were you talking to this man as if he were an old friend? Octavius goes quiet for a moment.

“I need to rebuild the reactor,” he says, gritting his teeth. “I need to finish what I started.” You can hear his voice breaking. You stand up and hesitantly walk closer to him.

“That’s fine,” you say gently. “But you also need someone by your side. And by some… god-granted twist of fate, it looks like that’s me.”

Otto stops working. The arms rear up, seemingly looking at him. He begins to sniff, trying desperately to keep the cork on his bottled emotions. The bottle breaks, and he buries his face in his hands, sobbing.

“What have I done with myself?” he weeps. You recoil away from him, feeling horribly responsible. Tears begin to well up in your own eyes.

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You sit down next to Otto at the workbench and carefully place a hand on his shoulder. He collapses into you with an embrace, tears continuing to spill from his eyes. Your heart skips a beat, and you pause before wrapping your arms around him, flinching at the metal apparatus embedded in his back.

You both let your tears fall down, leaning into each other’s touch. Otto’s body was warm, perfectly built for an embrace. What? What were you thinking?! You barely knew this man, and yet… it felt so natural to be around him. No, stop it! You gently let go of Otto, but caress his arm.

“I can’t begin to imagine how you must be feeling,” you say, though you feel it’s a weak attempt at sympathy. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I just need another human being,” Otto confesses, wiping his eyes. “It hasn’t even been that long, but… God, every day feels like an eternity.”

You look down at Otto’s hands, simultaneously weathered and gentle. You softly take hold of one. “I’ll be your human.” An arm curves around to look at you, the claw tilting to the side like a curious child. It makes you smile.

Just then, you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Heart rate spiking, you withdraw your phone to see a text from your friend.

Where ARE you? I thought you said you were finishing your shift, you get stuck somewhere?

“Shit, god, fuck, I gotta go,” you stammer, stuffing your phone away. “I don’t want to leave you, but, my friends are getting worried, and I just…” You trail off a bit, not knowing how to continue.

“It’s alright, y/n,” Otto says with a bittersweet smile. “I understand you have your own life to attend to.”

“I’ll come back soon, though. Tomorrow? Maybe? I don’t know.” You begin to make your way out of the homemade lab, but quickly turn back around. “Oh! Let me give you my phone number, if you ever need any more deliveries or whatever.”

“You don’t need to do that.” But you’ve already started writing your number on an old receipt.

“You want to stay undercover, and I promise your secret’s safe with me.” You place the scrap paper in front of Otto. “I’ll be seeing you, Dr. Octavius.”

“Otto is fine.”

“Right. Otto.”

Otto smiles softly at you while one of the arms seems to wave goodbye. You feel it’d be rude not to return the gesture, so you wave back. You let out a contented sigh as you return to your moped. While strapping on your helmet, it hits you that you just gave your number to a man you felt rather attracted to. You let your head fall onto the handlebars with a frustrated groan.

Chapter Text

“ You’re thinking about them. ”

“An astute observation,” Otto replies curtly. 

“ We like them. They value your intellect and your work. ”

Otto sighs and rises from his seat, walking away to retrieve more parts for his reactor. “I’m sure they were just trying to be polite.”

“ Even so, they did not fear you like all those other simple minds. We must talk with them more.”

“We are running a bit low on food,” Otto mutters, glancing at his stash of chips and other snack foods. “Do you really think I should ask for help?”

“ In ordinary circumstances, no. But this is different. They admire you and could prove to be a valuable asset.”

Otto says nothing but grabs his (stolen) phone and types out a message to you.

Meanwhile, you’re hanging out with your friends - chatting and binge-watching TV.

“Why can’t we know anything about him?” your friend pesters. “If you’ve started dating a celebrity, we wanna know.”

“First of all, we are not dating. Second, he’s not… exactly a celebrity. But he still needs to keep a low profile, so can we just drop it?” You take another handful of popcorn when you feel a vibration come from your phone.

Hello, y/n. It’s Otto. I’d appreciate it if you could come over and bring some snack foods with you; my supply is running a bit low. Thanks.

-Otto

Jesus Christ, the man texted like an email. You laugh a bit to yourself before responding.

Sure thing lmao. Be there soon

“Gotta go, guys. Sorry.” You put your phone in your pocket as you stand up.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your new boyfriend, would it?”

“Bye, guys.”

After a brief shopping trip, you arrive at Otto’s “home.” You lug the plastic bags out of your delivery box and make your way down the dock. Your instinct is to call out “honey, I’m home” as a joke, but you stop yourself.

“Otto? It’s me, I brought stuff!” You can hear the metallic din of the robotic arms as Otto comes over. 

“Thank you very much,” he says, giving you a small smile as he takes the bags. “Wow, what’s all in here?”

“Oh, I got plenty of stuff! Baby carrots, freeze-dried apples, peanut butter, pretzel sticks, chocolate bars. I thought about getting some drinks, but I wasn’t sure if I could fit them on my moped.”

“This… This is too much,” Otto says with nervous laughter. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Mmm, I feel like I do,” you say with a cheeky smile. You walk further into the warehouse, getting a good look at the work-in-progress reactor. “You’re really coming along on this, huh?”

Otto sets the groceries in an empty wooden crate and follows after you. “I suppose so.” 

“Is there anything I could help with?”

“You- want to help me build a nuclear reactor, the original of which was a blazing failure?” he responds, voice rising in intensity. The arms entwine around him, and you swear it looks like he’s listening to them. “No. No, I’m not a failure. It would have stabilized, and it will stabilize.”

You go quiet for a moment and sit down on the cracked floor. You worry your question will sound foolish, but you spit it out anyway. “Do the arms… talk to you?”

“They do,” Otto confirms. “It was… strange at first, to say the least. It was as if four voices spoke together in my mind. They’re helping me to achieve my goals.” One of the arms winds around Otto’s like a pet snake as he speaks. He smiles wistfully at it, softening at its touch. “They’ve been my companions through this mess. Sad, isn’t it?”

You do feel pity for Otto, but you don’t think he’s a sad individual. At least not in that way. “No. I think it’s kind of sweet, actually. You know, like, you created them, and now they’re giving back to you.”

Otto laughs dryly. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. You know, I’ve given them names, too.”

“Really?” you ask, eyes lighting up. “That’s cute.”

Otto lets out another one of those husky laughs. “They’re a bit silly, to be honest. There’s Harry, Larry, Flo, and Moe.” Each of the tentacles gives a wave as Otto says their names, and you can’t help but smile.

“I like that.” You stand up and walk a bit closer to Otto. “Could I…?” You point at one of the arms - Flo, according to Otto. “I guess, could I take a look?”

Otto and Flo seem to look at each other, and Flo nods her metaphorical head. “She trusts you,” Otto says as the arm slinks toward you. “Just be gentle.”

You hold the claw in one hand and grace your fingers along every detail in the other. Tenderly tracing the grooves and joints, you realize how intricate and beautiful the machinery is. The claw slowly closes around your hand, and heat rises in your chest. Your heart beats in your ears as you savor this surprisingly intimate moment. The whole world stands still as you caress Otto Octavius’ hand. But… it’s not really his hand. Is it? It’s not even a hand . Even if it were, should you really be holding it? You withdraw your fingers from the claw’s grasp. 

“They’re beautiful,” you say, smiling a bit awkwardly.

Otto makes a slight noise of amusement. “You don’t need to patronize me.”

“No, they really are! It’s an amazing work of engineering.”

“Amazing and deadly. I have to keep them in check.” A moment of silence. “We keep each other in check.” 

You wished you could hear what the tentacles were saying. “I bet you could use them for all sorts of things. Like… handling hazardous materials, safely detonating bombs, getting that thing off the top shelf.” You giggle at your joke and look up to Otto for feedback. He poorly holds back a smirk.

“I suppose your mind is less hyper-focused than mine. I never considered other applications for the rig.”

“Well, I’m happy to offer an outsider’s perspective.” You and Otto smile at each other for a moment before you go over to his box of groceries. “You hungry? I say it’s time for a snack break.”

Otto smiles. “Rosie would have liked you. She was always on my case about eating junk food or just not eating at all.” He walks up next to you and looks inside the plastic grocery bags. You can feel the heat off of his body, and you take a step to the side. You avert your eyes from Otto, trying not to dwell upon this Rosie. But… you should be dwelling upon it. The man had lost his wife, for God’s sake. That ought to be deterring you from having affections. “Sorry, did I put a damper on the mood?” Otto says to break the silence, smiling a bit sadly.

“Um, no, no! I’m sorry for feeling awkward.” You sheepishly look down.

“It’s alright,” Otto responds, pulling out a bag of dried fruit. “I- probably shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.” He takes a deep breath as he sits down and opens the bag. You quietly take a snack-sized bag of baby carrots and sit across from him. You certainly don’t want to pry, but you worry that changing the topic of conversation would be too awkward. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say, even though you know you’d already expressed the sentiment. Otto lowers his head and focuses on eating. 

“Thank you. I think you’re the first person who’s said that.”

God, that did it. You feel your stomach drop, and your nose begins to heat up. You sniffle a few times, praying you don’t start crying. Unfortunately for you, a pair of tears sneak their way out of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I feel like I’m always making things about me when it’s other people that are suffering.” You crunch on another carrot, trying to focus on something else.

“No, it’s okay,” Otto says in a tone of sympathy you hadn’t heard from him before. “It shows that you care a lot, and I appreciate that.” Before you know it, Otto is sitting next to you, a tentacle gently wrapped around your waist. “You were right. I do need someone with me.” He gives another one of those sad, beautiful smiles, which you return.

“We can’t let all our meetings lead to us crying,” you say, laughing. Otto laughs with you.

“I think I needed a few good cries.” An arm rears up to face him, and he listens intently, frowning. “I believe that I’ll work better if I’m not weighed down by bottled-up emotions.”

You nod. “Such emotional maturity,” you say with a smile, and Otto chuckles. You’ve both finished your snacks by now, and you offer to take Otto’s wrapper. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stick around for a little while, see if I can help out a bit.”

“That’d be nice. I enjoy your company.”

You can feel your cheeks flush, and you smile shyly. Otto pats your shoulder as he stands up, sending another rush of heat through your body. Fuck, you are down bad .

Chapter Text

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” 

It’s been a few weeks since you first met Otto, and your meetings have become rather regular as of late. He would send a message requesting a particular food or other supply, and you’d swiftly arrive with the delivery. Eventually, you started showing up without any reason, and Otto didn’t seem to mind at all. You still liked to bring a few presents, though.

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine, y/n. It doesn’t matter to me when you decide to come over.” Otto walks over to you - on the lower pair of tentacles - and looks inside your plastic shopping bag. “Christmas lights?” he asks with an amused smile. 

“Yep! I figured you could use some comforting touches around here.” You take out the string of lights, as well as a purple stuffed octopus. “I saw this and thought of you, so I just had to buy it,” you say, grinning. Otto laughs.

“That’s rather cheeky of you.”

“Well, it’s all part of my cheerful nature. You know, my personality test says I’m ‘optimistic and positive,’ and I ‘tend to see the best in others.’”

“I’d say that personality test was quite accurate.” Otto smiles warmly at you with a glint of sadness in his eyes. “Anything else in your bag of tricks?” He pulls out a box of snack cakes and chuckles. “I can’t keep eating all this junk food,” he says, immediately contradicting himself as he opens the package. 

“Oh, sure you can. It’s just all about having a nice, balanced diet. As long as you have a bunch of different foods, you’re good to go.”

Otto smiles and wordlessly offers you the second cream-filled cake in the wrapper. Your heart skips a beat, and your cheeks flush as you stare into his warm, tired eyes. You silently accept the cake, glancing away from him as you realize how long you’d been staring. You move your gaze to the reactor that Otto has been building; it looked nearly complete.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be until it’s ready?” you wonder aloud. 

“Well, the structure itself is just about finished. I just need the tritium to power it.”

“Hmm, well, how-slash-where did you get it in the first place?” you ask, taking a seat. Otto sits near you.

“Oscorp provided the funds and materials. Though I doubt Harry would want to help after all the destruction I’ve caused,” he says, laughing dryly.

Harry Osborn, eh? Local rich kid loaded with daddy’s money. What can you offer a guy that can get anything? 

“Do you know of anything you could use to persuade him? You know, not in a ‘you do this or I’ll do this’ way, but in a ‘you do this for me, and I’ll do this for you’ way,” you say, laughing a bit. Otto thinks for a moment.

“The kid isn’t exactly fond of Spider-Man. Word is he killed Harry’s father.”

You had heard that rumor. It just didn’t seem like the guy would straight-up murder someone, even if that someone was a smug millionaire. Regardless of the truth, Osborn definitely seemed to hate friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

“Well, something involved with Spider-Man, I guess.” You laugh a bit at your nebulous idea. “I dunno, I kinda like the guy, but…” You trail off, shrugging. 

“But what?”

You aren’t quite sure what to say. What is causing you to let Spidey get thrown under the bus? You feel your cheeks start to heat up again. “I guess… If it’ll help you, then it’s okay? Ugh, that sounds bad.” You look away from Otto, scrunching your shoulders. Even if you can’t see him, you know he’s looking at you. Must be all those arms amplifying the feeling. 

“You really care about this, don’t you?” You can hear the sad smile in Otto’s voice. 

“I care about you !” you blurt out, whipping back to face him. “I care about you and your well-being, and I want you to succeed!” You can feel tears start to prick your eyes, and you quickly wipe them away. “Just forget it. Forget I said anything. I don’t want to make things weird.”

One of the mechanical arms slithers around your shoulder, and Otto scoots closer, nestling up against you. “You know what, y/n? I care about you too. You’ve done so much for me, and I feel like I’ve barely shown my gratitude. Is there anything I can do for you ?”

“ A kiss ,” your mind immediately says, but you stop yourself before your mouth can say it. “I- I don’t know,” you say, laughing nervously. “Umm…”

“I know you’ve mentioned not having enough room to carry things on your bike. Maybe I could make a… sidecar or something.” 

“Oh, you don’t-”

“I insist.” God, his smile is so beautiful. 

“Al-alright!” You can’t help but laugh a bit giddily. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“Well, you’ve been really sweet to me. You deserve a proper thank-you.”

You don’t even hesitate - you gently hold Otto’s hand and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths, listening to Otto’s own breathing and the soft whirr of his mechanical arms. You can feel as Otto rests his head on yours, the pseudopods holding you close. 

“This is so nice,” you hum.

“I love having you here.” Love . The word radiates through your mind, warmth spreading from your chest. You can feel as the hairs on your arms stand on end. You don’t know what to do. You carefully slip away from Otto’s embrace, giving him an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Well, I’ll bring in the bike so you can like, measure it, or whatever.”

“Of course.” You and Otto both stand up. “Did you want to stay while I work on it for you?”

“Um, no, no, that’s alright,” you stammer, putting your hands up. “I can just like, call an Uber or something.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“Sure, sure.” You scamper out of the warehouse to retrieve your moped, your mind a raging hurricane of thoughts. 

He said the “L” word. He may not have said them all in a row, but he said those three immortal words. Fuck, what did it mean? Did he love you? Your train of thought screeches to a halt as you suddenly find yourself back in the lab, carrying in your bike. Your brain must have gone on autopilot while bringing it in. 

“Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, y/n. This should be fun, like shop class in high school,” Otto says with a chuckle. You laugh along awkwardly.

“I’ll, uh, see you later then, I guess.” You pull out your phone to set up an Uber ride.

“Be seeing you.” Otto gives you one last warm smile before you wave goodbye.

Chapter Text

I’ve finished working on your bike. Come by whenever you get a chance.

    -Otto

You smile as you read the message on your phone and quickly send out a request for an Uber. You’ll just go close to Otto’s workshop, not all the way; you don’t want to reveal his location. Before the car arrives, you grab the bedding set you’d bought the other day and hold onto it while you wait. 

After a short car ride, you hop out, wait a moment for the car to leave, then look around for good measure to make sure no one is around before heading off to meet Otto. 

“Otto? I got your text! And I brought a little something extra,” you call out. You can see your moped in the middle of the lab as Otto waves to you.

“What do you have there?”

“Oh! It’s just some sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. I figured you’d want a comfortable place to sleep.” You smile softly at Otto, but your expression falls as his does. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just- I hadn’t really thought about that. Sleep wasn’t exactly on the top of my priority list with the machine in front.” You notice the creases around his eyes as he smiles sadly at you. “Thank you very much, y/n.”

“Aw, it’s no problem!” You hand the bedding set off to Otto before checking out your new sidecar. It’s rather basic, making you think of a high school shop project. But you can tell it was built with love. Love. The word reverberates through your mind again. “This looks really nice!” you say, deflecting from your own thoughts.

“Thank you. I took my time with it.” Otto walks over next to you, a tentacle curling around to look at your face. “Did you notice this?” he asks, pointing to a small infinity symbol welded into the side. “That’s my logo,” he says proudly.

“Oh, that’s so sweet! I didn’t know you had one,” you say with a giggle.

“Mhm. I chose it to represent the infinite possibilities of science. But it also looks like two O’s for Otto Octavius.” He grins, and you admire every crease around his smile.

“I love it.” You keep finding yourself coming back to that word. You take a deep breath - in through the nose and out through the mouth. “So, how are things coming along with getting your fuel, um, tritium was it?”

“Well, I paid a visit to Harry. We agreed that if I brought him Spider-Man, he’d give me the tritium. That was good advice; he agreed with minimal persuasion.”

“Well, that’s- that’s good.” You smile, but Otto can tell it’s fake. “Hey, it’s- it’s all in the name of science, right?”

“Yes. I’ve poured so much into this project. The only real crime would be to abandon it.” The way Otto speaks sends a chill down your spine. But god, he looked so beautiful when he was serious about something. 

“I- I really hope it works. I’m-I’m sure it will.” You look at Otto as he stares off into space, looking towards his reactor. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

“I have my doubts, too, sometimes,” he says, tone softening. “But I know it will work.” He almost seemed like a different person when he talked about the fusion reactor. 

You slowly approach Otto and take his hand, sending a rush of warmth through your body. You look up into his eyes, noting the different flecks of color in his irises. You breathe in his scent - leather, metal, cigar smoke. You soon realize that you’re facing each other, the air around you both hanging still. You lean in a bit closer.

“If you’d like to kiss me now, I wouldn’t mind that.” That startles you.

“What?!” You stumble backward. “No, no, I-I couldn’t! I can’t! This is- this is wrong, it’s- it’s not right!” you stammer.

Otto’s expression falls, his brow creasing. “I’m- I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry for being presumptuous”

“No! It’s- I…” You close your eyes tight, hanging your head low. “I want to,” you say just above a whisper. “But it feels wrong. I guess I just hoped that if I kept it inside, it would go away.”

Otto comes forward and takes your hand. “I once told a young person like you that you can’t keep something as complicated as love stored up inside or it’ll eat you alive. And I will tell you that I think you’re a very sweet, attractive person.”

“But… You just lost your wife… I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You avert your gaze from Otto. After a moment, he speaks up again.

“My Rosie wouldn’t want me to be alone. I don’t think she’d mind if I found another person to love.” 

By now, you’ve run out of arguments. You put your hand on Otto’s waist. You tilt your head up and lean in, closing your eyes. As your lips touch his, you feel fireworks in your heart, and you lean in more, putting your hands on his cheeks. You can feel a mechanical arm gently wrap around your waist, holding you close. You never want to let go of this embrace.

You eventually do pull back, and start to giggle out of a bit of euphoria. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” you admit with a grin.

Otto chuckles, and you can feel it reverberating in his chest. “I’m glad you’ve gotten to fulfill your wish”

Chapter Text

You feel a pit in your stomach as you stare at the TV screen - news footage of “Doctor Octopus” and Spider-Man fighting atop a train car. This was your fault. You had told Otto to use Spider-Man as a bargaining chip.

“I gotta go,” you mutter as you stand up and grab your bag. By now, your friends have gotten a clue as to who your “mystery friend” was.

“Y/n, I’m not letting you go after him.” Your friend stands behind you, and you pause for a moment but continue out the door.

“Y/n!” You hear them call after you, but you just speed up down the hall.

Night falls as you race across the city, trying your best to get to Otto’s makeshift lab as fast as you can. Every red light, every traffic jam sends your heart racing.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at Otto’s warehouse, which looks even more sunken in than before. You squint as an enormous bright light shines from within. You park your bike and rush in.

“Otto!” you call out as you run inside.

“Y/n, you’re here!” Otto turns around and quickly approaches you, holding your hands. “Look at it!” he exclaims. You look up at the reactor, which is fully active and aglow with a miniature sun. Otto pulls you closer, showing you a blue light built into the reactor. “This ‘arc reactor allows me to stabilize my machine,” he explains. “Y/n, it works. It really works.” You stare at him in stunned silence for a moment before speaking up.

“Where- where did you get this thing? Did Oscorp have it? And- and what about Spider-Man?” Otto’s expression falls when you mention Spider-Man.

“We fought. I handed him off to Osborn and obtained the tritium I needed; then, I returned here. But Peter-” He stops himself. “Spider-Man followed me, and we fought again. He begged me to stop the machine, and then… And then, all of a sudden, I was somewhere else.”

“...What do you mean, ‘somewhere else?’”

“It was an entirely different world, a parallel New York City. There was another Spider-Man, a completely different one to who we know here. But still a brilliant young man. He managed to fix my inhibitor chip.” Otto shows you the chip implanted in the back of his neck. He goes on and on about this “other universe” he visited, the people he met, the things he saw.

You just stare up at Otto, his eyes wide with wonder. His disposition seems entirely changed from when you last saw him, but it’s still Otto, of course.

“I’m… happy for you?” you manage to say, laughing awkwardly. “I’m not really sure what to say.” You don’t entirely believe what Otto’s saying, but clearly, this “arc reactor” had to come from somewhere.

“I do realize this sounds unbelievable. I’m not entirely sure how it all happened myself. But I’m here now.” He takes hold of your hands once more, and you feel a warmth spread from your chest. You suppose it doesn’t matter what happened in the past couple of hours; Otto is happy, and that makes you happy.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You pull Otto into an embrace, and the tentacles hug you back. You then look around the empty warehouse. “So, uh, Spider-Man must have left, huh? Darn, I would have loved to meet him,” you say with a laugh. Otto chuckles in return.

“Maybe you will someday. I’m sure you’d get along wonderfully.”

You smile up at Otto and lean in close before closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his. Your heart was set ablaze, just as Otto’s reactor burned bright next to you. In this moment, everything was perfect.