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dethelk · 3 months ago

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Community Gardens

Otto Octavius x Reader; Alternate Universe - Magic Summary: The heat of summer reaches a muggy boiling point. Lets make some magic. >:) Chpt 8: canicule

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[click here for the fic on ao3] Fair warning: if you've enjoyed this fic until the 7th chapter and don't care for smut, I tried to end that chapter well enough that it could be the end if you so wish it. That said, most of this chapter has been done for a long time and is half the reason I wrote this whole thing lol.

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It seems like he has been giving you all the tedious work in the garden; weeding that somehow never finished, removing pests (there is a lean rabbit you’d taken to calling Norman that is constantly eluding you, though to be frank it seems pretty unhinged for a rabbit so the attempts have been halfhearted at best), harvesting the veggies at the EXACT time he wanted despite never telling you when that time was. It was an opportunity to shut off your overactive thoughts, and instead focus your brain on the physical tasks before you.

Days like this though, the work was more than exhausting. You’d been at this since early morning (stopping for a break now and then) and while it was warm at that time, it was nothing compared to the suffocating heat of the late afternoon. Humidity had glued clothes and skin together, the sticky cloth of your long skirt already gathered up to knee-height and put in a loose knot in an attempt to get some relief. Scandalous! Barely working to cool you off!

God, this weather almost made the air seem like water. Any deep breath nearly suffocating. The basket to your left sat undisturbed for about five minutes now, you’d been harvesting for this week’s market sales but instead sat crouched and sweating. You weren’t too enthused with going to town to begin with. While the folks in the market were oddly pleasant now, you feared the heat would dissolve the fragile treaty. Breaking your unfocused stare at a beet top, you moved to wipe the rolling sweat with a forearm before it hit your eyes. The disgusting feeling of wet on wet jerked your arm back, earning a glare at the offending skin. Mud. The combination of sweat, dirt, and pressure had resulted in streaking a nasty mud mixture across your face and arm. “OKAY.” Springing to your feet, you tossed a trowel into the large basket with disgust. “Fuck this, I’m done.”

With the weight of the hefty basket balanced precariously on your hip, you made the trek across the garden. Struggling only a little bit, the humidity swelling the wood in place, you yanked open the thick side door leading to the cool kitchen. Otto was hunched over his work next to the sink, the world tuned out in favor of whatever the new brilliant thing was. You briskly passed him, turned on the faucet and dipped a tea towel into the flowing cool water. This sweat needed to be GONE. Or at the very least, the dirt needed to be. The sweet relief felt from briefly running the rag over your heated face elicited a soft groan. At this moment, heaven is a wet towel. Crossing the room, you earned a turn of his head when setting the heavy basket down on the opposing counter with a loud thud. His mildly inquisitive look prompted you to explain your presence (though there really was no need to, nerves sometimes still fueled interactions with him).

“It’s too hot out to work anymore. I figured I’d take a break and then head to the market.” You spoke with a sigh, dragging the cool fabric across your throat. He simply stared at you in return, eyes locked to the movement of your hand. With a start he seemed to finally register your words.

“Ah, that's fine.” He quickly turned back to his work, was that a flush on his cheeks? “Find me later when you get back, I would appreciate your help trying to translate the chicken scratch some fool wrote for a spell’s ingredient listing.” With that he hunched back over his work. Lost to the outside world yet again. It was a peaceful silence, though after a few moments you noticed the actuators seemed antsy. Curiously one of the upper actuators made its way over to you, sliding a cool embrace around your shoulders. You knew he had been trying to tamper with the base spell of the actuators off and on again, apparently the latest change was an attempt at alleviating some of the heat they gave off. Shuddering at the sudden but welcome temperature change, you opened your mouth to thank Otto for the cooling relief but continued movement clamped it back shut. Almost lazily the actuator wound around your torso, careful to avoid the tender areas of your back, leaving goosebumps along each spot it graced. It seemed to fidget around the hem of your shirt, raising it slightly and eliciting a sharp intake of air when it brushed the bare skin on the small of your back.

The little part of your brain that stored logic seemed to be out on break. Unsteady breaths left you instead of questioning words. Its also possible you just didn’t really care why this was happening, the bliss of cool metal a convincing enough explanation.

So focused on the one actuator, you hadn’t noticed a second one had made its way over until it slid around your calf like a vine. Up it continued to climb, the fabric of your long skirt following along. You spared it a curious glance, the careful movements squeezing around the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Both arms snaked upwards, the lower one seemed to have less wholesome intentions than you initially thought. On its way to your other leg, it wound around to slot against your core before continuing its trek. The action had you tilting your head back with a soft sigh, the first actuator took advantage of this position to settle in its chosen place.

“What on EARTH are you two doing over there!!” Otto nearly shouted, the movement of the two rambunctious actuators finally pulling his attention away. All very much the energy of when a cat is chewing something loudly in the other room. He slammed his pen down and whipped around to look at what could possibly be that much more enthralling to his metal limbs. Lips parted to continue voicing his annoyance, but no words came. While yes, the actuators could run wild with his thoughts at times, he never dreamed they would do something like this.

He froze in place, taking in the debauched sight before him. One of his creations delicately gripping your waist, curling higher to rest around your throat. The other with your legs held tight, skirt hiked up by the claw to allow the arm better access to press against your groin. A statement ran through his mind immediately: Those should be my hands. Your eyes opened at the sudden stillness of the actuators, pointed to the ceiling from the angle one held your neck at. Quickly they began to slither away, as if they touched a hot coal. A broken moan was drawn out as the lower actuator slid roughly through your legs. When the brief haze left your brain, a soft whine escaped your lungs as you realized your eyes had settled to meet Otto’s heated gaze.

There was a deafening silence, interrupted by your soft panting and the ruffle of setting clothes right. Probably should talk about what just happened? That would be the wise route. You always take the wise route (this is a lie).

“Are you alright?” A hand rose up and over his mouth, dragging across in apprehension. You gave a shaky thumbs up, averting his eyes.

“I uh…” you pressed a hand to your throat in an attempt to hold down embarrassment. Watching his eyes, they hungrily followed the curve of your fingers and a delightful shiver ran through you. “I have to get to the market now, before they close up.” The words rushed out and you followed suit, grabbing up the almost forgotten basket and fleeing to your room. The sticky heat you felt earlier was nothing compared to the fire running through your veins now.

Once hidden away, you all but threw the basket down on your dresser. Taking a moment to calm your breathing before looking in the attached mirror. Somehow, you looked both like you’d just crawled out of bed and ran a marathon at the same time. Red face, rumpled clothes, sweat slicking your hair at odd angles. What a mess. A change of clothes may help.

Maybe.

Probably not.

With a frustrated huff you pawed through a dresser drawer to pull out a loose fitting top and short cut pants. The tights could suck an egg, bare legs were the least of the problems the townsfolk had with you. It was annoying work to disrobe, still having to be careful of your back and all. Almost as equally annoying was putting on the clothes, just the friction of putting on pants caused a dull throb of arousal to flare up with a pitiful gasp. Honestly, you’d never noticed how touch starved you had become. Much like a bird landing on a broken branch being the final push to plummet the limb to the harsh ground below, apparently that little scene was enough very easily set you off. Oh well, time to cram down emotions and sell vegetables!

The vegetable selling didn’t take much time, unfortunately. Beyond chatting with the few merchants that you were on good terms with, there was really no reason to be in town any longer than absolutely needed. So you decided sit by the cool waters of the lake for a bit.

To avoid problems.

Like mature and emotionally healthy people do.

Lovely as the surrounding nature is, there are only so many things you can do before frustration creeps back up your spine. Perhaps pacing up and down the lakeside is not a fruitful activity. Moving on from that leads to about the five failed attempts to skip a stone across the water. Leaning down to pick up failure number six, you spy a small slightly translucent gray rock. Upon picking it up, you’re delighted when the sunlight causes a bright flash of blue-green to bounce across the surface. Pocketing it, you decide to head home. Maybe Otto would know what gemstone this could be? It would at least be a possible distraction if he attempts to talk about earlier.

You’re really not sure why you’re so apprehensive about the aftermath of this morning. Other than the dread of possible rejection trickling through your mind. And ruining the cozy life you had. Okay so you’re very sure about the reason why you’ve been puttering around a lake instead of talking through your feelings.

As much as you’d like to continue the puttering right on to your room, you were told to seek out Otto when you got home. Not in the kitchen, not in the lab. You stopped briefly in the living area to set the market profits on an end table, pulling the somehow forgotten gem from your pocket along with the cash. Making the short trek to the only other possible location he could be in the home, you fiddled with the pebble, catching light along the iridescent sides as you went. Much like a bird, you were distracted by the shiny object enough to forgo knocking on the shut door to his bedroom.

“Hey, I’m back. I found a neat rock at the lake. Also, what was that paper you were talking abou—” Mid-sentence you finally look up from the pebble in your hand to see a very flustered Otto.

Oh. Right. Doors are usually closed for a reason.

Fire and ice coursed through you as you processed the situation.

“I AM. SO SORRY.” Yet there you still stood, door handle held in a white knuckled grip, eyes glued to the breathless man before you. And what a sight. Hair messy and eyes unfocused. His shirt was pushed open haphazardly, as if he was in a rush to be free of it. Pants unbuttoned to relieve some of the pressure that still seemed to be straining against the soft fabric of his briefs. One of his hands was frozen in place above the tented fabric. “I, uh, I thought you’d still be working.”

“I suppose I am, in a way.” You realized with a start that your gaze was still very locked on his crotch, head snapping up at the words. Though embarrassment was still faintly in the air between you, his eyes seemed to take on a determined gleam. “Currently, I’m testing a theory you helped me develop this morning.” “Oh?” Breathless, your fingers flexed on the handle as your palm grew clammy with nerves. “What theory may that be?”

“That you and I have been precariously dangling on the edge of something.” An actuator slid past Otto to give you a small nudge forward. It was the last push needed to send you over the cliff of uncertainty.

“You know, I do love to watch you work.”

Finally letting go of the door handle, you abandoned the anchor to float your way across the small distance from the entry to where he sat. You sank to the floor, situating into a comfortable position before resting your head on Otto’s inner thigh, the action drawing out a shuddering breath from him. Looking though lidded eyes at your warm expression, a hand came down to tangle through the locks of your hair splayed over his leg.

“You look exceptionally handsome nestled between my thighs.” He spoke with a rumble, thoroughly enjoying the gasp that came from giving an experimental tug to your hair.

“It’s a very fine frame.” You ran your hand up his opposing leg, stopping at the hip only to lightly drag your nails back downwards. “Well, go on then. Don’t mind me.” How you were this composed right now, you had absolutely no idea. In an effort to calm just a bit, you began to trace small circles with your thumb where it rested on his leg.

He seemed to be in one of his standstills again, too many thoughts rushing in at once. Too many options. The fingers of his free hand twitched as you leaned into the one wrapped up in your hair. Slowly, as if not to spook him, you took hold of his wrist and directed the unoccupied hand back to the position it held when you entered the room. You turned your head slightly, giving a soft kiss to his inner thigh before nuzzling in to take in the view. To your absolute delight he let out a low groan, that being the final thing to move him into action.

It was one thing to think of you while taking care of himself, the task he initially set out to do in your momentary absence, it was a whole other level of intimacy to see you gazing up at him as he did so.

Tentatively, Otto gave a short stroke through his briefs, just enough of a touch to find a moment of respite before dragging his hand upwards. He hooked his thumb into the waistband, hurriedly tugging his cock free of the all too tight confines. You let out a soft whine, mouth watering at the sight of him: heavy and leaking already.

You didn’t even notice Otto’s outstretched hand in front of your face until he tapped your chin.

“Spit.” Without thought you obeyed, quickly spitting into his palm. “Good, always so helpful.” With the added wetness, he began fucking his hand in earnest. The slick sound went right to your gut. With a huff you made to relieve your own tension, only for an actuator to still your hand. “I can be helpful as well, you know.”

The claw made its way around your hips, nudging your legs apart while another joined to slink in the newly formed space. Warmth spread between your thighs with every small movement. Silently thankful for the pants you were wearing, both providing a delicious friction from the actuator and a small shield from the direct contact that may just turn you to dust. Still though, the heat transferred straight to your veins.

“Why’d you alter the temperature on them already?” You’re rather shocked at still having the ability to form coherent thoughts.

“The cooling variant dulled the feeling in them to nothing,” he shakily replied, “bit of a-ah-- hazard as you saw this afternoon.” You eagerly rutted on the smooth metal as he spoke, at the stronger contact Otto bucked his hips and let out a moan that traveled up your spine. “And I wouldn’t be able to feel how soaked you are for us right now.”

You groaned in response, hands traveling along his legs and gripping the fabric of his pants tightly.

So enamored by the situation, you failed to notice the rest of the actuators closing in. All at once they took their spots, quickly gathering your hands behind your back and winding around your torso to keep any movement from occurring. Bit of a problem, this. As you had been rapidly approaching your peak.

“Please,” you whined, head dropping in frustration to rest on his hip. Near open mouthed panting at the combination of light touches from the actuators and the unwavering sound of movement next to your ear. “Pleasepleaseplease….” The angle of your head muffled the rushed words but the weak “Sir?” that followed was clear enough to shoot straight to Otto ears.

God, if only you knew how grateful he was that you had dropped that formality quickly. Hearing you call him ‘Sir’ was a problem, as soon as the word passed your lips he had all sorts of distracting thoughts. Like how he could put those lips to better use.

“If you want something, I expect you to look at me.” He said firmly, satisfaction gracing his features when your head quickly snapped up.

“So sweet for me. And you listen so well,” he lifted the hand that had been slowly stroking his cock, bringing two fingers to brush along your lips. Without a second thought they were in your mouth, with you greedily lapping up the precum that coated them. “What are you pleading for?”

You groaned around his fingers.

He gave a wicked smile in return.

“Didn’t quite catch that, sorry.” He began slowly pumping his slicked fingers past your lips, gathering the pooling spit you couldn’t swallow. When you attempted to answer him, he simply fucked his fingers into your mouth harder. “Did you want to come? Is that it?” You gave as much of a nod as you could, eyes on the verge of frustrated tears. “Go ahead.”

As quickly as the words left him, your hips were released and the actuator between your thighs began moving against you with a renewed vigor. The moans you let out were still muffled by his fingers, traveling up through his hand like an electric shock. It didn’t take long for it to hit you, the pleasure coursing through you like a river.

Otto finally removed his fingers from your mouth with a soft pop, and you would have whined at the loss if you didn’t immediately replace them with his cock. If your mind wasn’t glazed over, you might have been embarrassed at the amount of drool that had pooled out. It was being put to good use at least. Almost too eagerly you swallowed around him. One hand firmly grasping his leg to hold you steady, while the other worked on what you couldn’t fit. He wanted to savor this, he really did, but it was too much. Otto came with a moan that could have belonged in a brothel. You swallowed what you could before you had to come up for air, lapping up the rest lazily while looking up at him with tired but blissful eyes. Once cleaned up to your satisfaction, you gave his cock a small kiss goodbye before tucking it back away in his briefs.

You were reminded of the actuators presence as they began moving again. With a small squeak of surprise, they lifted you and very gently peeled your dampened pants away to clean you up. You greeted a clean pair of your own underwear with a quirked eyebrow, oddly specific item of clothing for Otto to have on hand in his own room. Upon turning your gaze to him, all Otto could give as explanation was a bashful shrug. You chuckled as the actuators set you back down.

“My knees hurt….so much now,” you muttered after finally gaining breath again.

Otto rose to his feet, careful to not knock you over, and offered a hand to help you up. Gratefully, as you didn’t trust any joints in your legs to behave, you accepted it. You both stood for a moment, not sure what to say but still keeping your hands softly in each other’s grasp.

He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, you let out possibly the loudest yawn that had ever graced your ears. “Sleepy?” He asked, barely holding back a chuckle. With a quick nod in the affirmative, he led you both to his plush bed. You froze for a moment, unsure of yourself in the aftermath until he pulled you to lay down next to him with a weak tug.

“I think I have some sort of feeling for you.” you murmured into his chest, barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The steady thrum of Otto’s heart seemed to pause a beat at your confirmation.

“A good feeling, I hope.”

Words caught in your throat, too many things you wanted to say at once. So instead, you shifted upwards and slowly moved to kiss him. There was no hesitation from Otto in returning the kiss, giving a heated promise of more with tiny nip to your lower lip.

Flushed, you settled back to rest on his plush pillow of chest. A content sigh escaped as Otto began to lightly play with the hair above the nape of your neck. You drifted into sleep; calm, safe, and possibly the happiest you’ve ever felt.

#otto octavius #doc ock #magic!ock au #dethwrites #ITS OVER FOLKS

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dethelk · 3 months ago

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Community Gardens

Otto Octavius x Reader; Alternate Universe - Magic Summary: The aftermath of a burning flame. Though weak, new growth emerges. Chpt 7: seedling

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[click here for the fic on ao3]

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Dewy grass caressed your legs, a gentle breeze bringing the soft sound of nature out of the thick surrounding forest, a roaring crackle of burning wood joined the summer melody. A numbing lightness flowed through you. Relaxation? Taking in the circumstances leading to this moment, it was more likely to be shock. You would have much preferred the blaze ahead to be a campfire, rather than your home.

The visiting group of townsfolk had broke your window and threw a lit oil lamp in quickly after. Whatever accelerator was used did its job well, with your home being as small as it was. Though certainly it was helped by the frenzied blast you put in the wall in attempts to escape. The wildly unstable spell dancing hand in hand with the fire to burn hot and fast.

Otto charged past where you sat in the road’s grassy shoulder, so focused on the flame and smoke that was your house. You took in a sharp wheezing inhale at his arrival, leading to a small coughing fit from additional smoke to already irritated lungs. Thankfully, the sound was the only reason he stopped short of heading into the destruction.

Like a shot he was at your slumped form, hands hovering just out of reach as he took in the state of you. Your arms were crossed, clinging something he couldn’t quite make out tightly to your chest.

Trembling.

Eyes unfocused.

Hair burned scalp short on one side. The damage leading his eyes to, oh….

Oh god, your back.

The severity of the burn along your skin made him dizzy, it was a wonder you were even conscious.

As quickly and tenderly as he could, he took you in his arms and lifted you up. You needed medical attention immediately, the kind that he was unfortunately familiar with. The trek back home was made as fast as possible. Careful not to agitate the burns, he brought you through the house to where his first-aid kit resided in his bedroom. From the looks of it there was no lingering magic damage, a small miracle. At least tending to these burns would be less complicated than the ones he was graced with when fusing with the actuators.

He made his way over to sit on the armchair in the corner of the room, actuators darting this way and that to gather supplies. Gently setting you on the floor, he pried the item from your hold. That damned book. He had the urge to throw it, but instead handed it off to a claw that set it on a bedside table. Now free to move, he draped your arms over his knee to gain better access to the burns. With your weight safely resting against his leg, he took an opened glass jar from another claw. Scooping the contents out, he applied the salve along your back. Otto tried to quietly speak a pain relieving spell as he worked, but it could only do so much. Muffled sobs coming from you had his hand clumsy and tongue stuttering over familiar words. After what seemed like years, he finished with the salve and moved on to bandage the wounds.

His touch was tender and firm, both scared to hurt you any further and blanketed with a rage that you had been hurt at all. The tremble of his hands matched your own, traveling through the bandage when he wound it around your torso.

The shock of the night had finally faded away, leaving in it’s wake the weight of the situation resting heavy on your shoulders as stone. You were so tired.

“Hey,” you began, grimacing at how weak your cracked voice sounded. A short pause as you didn’t really have anything to say, the attempted conversation was more of an effort to stay conscious. “We’ll match now.” Yikes.

The words brought another heavy silence. Another pass of bandage.

“That isn’t a good thing, Dear.” He scoffed finally, the ire directed at the situation rather than you. Otto closed off the bandage, satisfied your burns were covered thoroughly. The salve would greatly accelerate healing of skin, with the cost being delayed nerve regeneration and severe scarring. The recovery would be long, and admittedly painful, but at least free from worry of an infection or worse. With a sigh he moved to help you up. “Lets get you to bed so you can rest.”

Slowly you ambled to his large bed, your arms gently supported by Otto. The actuators hovered near, unsure of how to help the situation but ready if needed. Pain was washing through the exhaustion, chipping away at you like a rock along the shoreline. Once situated on your stomach, Otto left you to clean the mess of supplies littered around the bedroom. Rigidly he packed away items handed to him by actuators, near slamming the bin upon a dresser when done.

You felt like your were watching him step around broken glass, breath held for the moment he lost balance. Jaw set and eyes dark, he moved to the door grabbing his cloak along the way. Panic jolted you from a half-sleep daze, he was one move away from a jagged edge.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, leaning up on one elbow to get a better look at him. He froze at the doorway, foot moving back, though still not looking your way. You held him by a string, terrified what would happen if the taut line broke. “Don’t leave, please.”

Turning to meet your gaze, you saw as his resolve left with an exhale. A small nod. He fidgeted with his cloak before draping it over the chair. You sank back into the covers, holding a tentative hand out to him like a child would with a feral cat. Crossing the room back towards the bed, to your great relief, he took hold of your hand. His thumb ran across your knuckles briefly before he let go to situate next to you on the bed. His bed, you thought dully in the back of your mind. That was something for a more alert you to react to.

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Recovery was indeed slow going, luckily Otto was able to help with the physical damage. At the end of each night you retired to his bedroom where he would check the progress of the healing and apply medication as you decompressed. Some days were better than others and you would haul yourself up to burrow under the covers of your own bedroom, ignoring the odd chest ache. On the bad days Otto would wordlessly guide you to the nearby bed, keeping your hand in his until your breathing finally slowed.

Lately there was a distracting itch just under your skin. The second it was thought about, the day was lost to that unachievable scratch. Unfortunately, today you were attempting to study a spell when the itch flitted through your brain as you turned a page of the heavy book.

On threat of death you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what that first paragraph contained. Despite having read it multiple times. For several minutes.

With a frustrated grunt you stopped reading just long enough to stretch your arms to the ceiling, lulling your head to the side to glance at the thin curtains on Otto’s kitchen windows as they fluttered softly from the night breeze.

Once again you directed your attention to the words waiting patiently on the page before you. Perhaps you’d been pushing too hard, but the other option was being alone with your thoughts. And by god, did you not want to allow yourself to think.

Contents of the chapter were long forgotten: harnessing the power of elements. The words of the page slipped through your lips as you tried to brute force concentration. At the last utterance of the paragraph a faint buzz flashed though you alongside a flash of light in your peripheral vision.

The damn curtains were on fire.

How absentminded does one have to be to speak a spell outright, you were lucky it wasn’t something worse. That was the last coherent thought you had before falling back out of your chair to scramble away, taking a glass of water to the floor in your wake. The glass shattering could hardly be heard through the hammering sound of your heartbeat. You must have called for Otto at some point, as he rushed into the room to quickly extinguish the flame before it spread. Lightheaded, you grabbed for him as he leaned down to check on you.

“Can you handle walking for a moment? Let’s get you out of this smoke.”

With a nod, he lead you out of the house and into the garden. Sitting next to each other (and with the actuators hovering around like guard dogs), your panic seemed to quell slowly. Otto was in no rush, which was good as it took about a half hour for the attack to finally subside.

“Sorry,” you sniffed, avoiding his expression by looking up at the night sky instead.

“Ah, I’ve been meaning to redecorate the kitchen anyways.”

You nudged his shoulder with a strangled laugh, resting your head against it as he cradled your head. “They can’t hurt you,” Otto said, almost a whisper. It was an almost eerie matter-of-fact statement rather than a promise. “I’ve got you.”

Unsure of what to say you just hummed in agreement, enjoying the calm as he stroked your hair. As stars twinkled in and out, you knew he would always be there for you.

#otto octavius #doc ock #magic!ock au #dethwrites

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