All Tied Up
Pairing: Doc Ock/Female reader
Summary: The reader gets kidnapped regularly by Doc Ock, and suspects he has a thing for her. Things get more heated than expected when she confronts him about it.
!! NSFW, minors do not interact, 18+ ONLY !!
It wasn’t the first time that you’d been kidnapped by Doctor Octopus. It happened frequently enough that you didn’t even bother to scream or struggle anymore. You’d hear him coming, stop what you were doing and sigh, and just wait.
Once you stopped trying to escape, he no longer bothered keeping you wrapped up in one of the metal tentacles while at his lab. You used to bolt for the nearest exit, but now when he released you, you’d sit on the spinning stool that was never in the same place twice. It made a horrible screeching sound when it turned, that you were sure annoyed him.
Which was how you found yourself one afternoon, spinning yourself 180 degrees one way, and then back the other way. You watch idly as he sets up his trap for Spider-Man. After one particularly loud screech, he turns to you, exasperated.
“Will you stop making that awful racket? Come over here.” You hop off the stool, crossing the room to where he is. He grabs you by the shoulders, turning you so your back is against the chain-link fence that lines one wall. As he bends to secure your feet to the fence, a question nags at you.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.” Came the response from beneath you.
“Why do you always kidnap me?” Now he stands to face you.
“Because Spider-Man always comes to rescue you.” He says this like it should be obvious.
“Spider-Man would rescue any hostage, I mean why me specifically?” He shrugs and avoids your eyes. Your arms are pinned above your head as he begins to tie them to the fence as well. You’re annoyed by his lack of response.
“You want to know what I think?” You ask.
“I think it’s because you’re sweet on me, Otto Octavius.” Again he ignores you, and refuses to look at your face.
“You know there’s better ways to ask someone on a date.”
The last knot is tied, and now he looks at you, curiously.
“And would you have said yes? To me?” The tentacles rise up behind him, as if to remind you of who he is.
Two of the tentacles slam into the fence above your head. Otto leans close, eyes level with you.
That makes you mad, you don’t like being accused of lying.
“Why don’t you come here and find out then?” You dare him.
You think for a second that maybe you misjudged him, and severely embarrassed yourself in the process. Then his hand cups your chin, and he slowly leans closer to you, waiting for your bluff. When it doesn’t come he presses his lips to yours, softly, tentatively at first. And then you kiss him back eagerly, and he kisses you rougher, almost aggressively.
When he breaks away you chase the kiss, but he’s out of reach and you’re unable to move closer. The hand cupping your chin tightens, and the other is at your waist, popping the button on your jeans.
“What if I don’t call Spider-Man?” He asks you, holding your face so you have to look at him. “What if instead I kept you here, tied up, and had a little fun with you?”
Previously, besides the kidnapping, Otto had been nothing but polite to you. You knew this threat was empty, and that he was trying to scare you, still thinking you might be bluffing.
“What would you say to that?” You watch as his jaw clenches.
“I’d say, hurry up and touch me already.” You grind your hips against the hand that had been toying with the now loose waistband of your pants. A nasty smile appears on his face, and that hand comes up to cup your cheek. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, and when you open your mouth he slips two fingers inside.
Your lips close around his fingers, swirling your tongue around them until they’re wet. You don’t bother telling him it’s unnecessary for what he was about to do, he’d discover that in a few seconds. He pulls his fingers out, and his hand slips into your panties. It’s a little difficult with your thighs pressed together the way they are, but he manages to wiggle his fingers in between your lower lips. He hums approvingly when he discovers the slick pooling there.
“How long have you been thinking about this kitten?” His voice is low and sultry, and he drags a line of your wetness up to your clit. His thumb presses against the sensitive nub, and slips one thick finger into you.
“I think about this quite a lot, actually.” It was true, Otto had a certain charm to him that you found irresistible, and he had been the subject of your late night fantasies more than once.
“Is that so?” One eyebrow arcs above his sunglasses, his thumb starts to rub circles around your clit. “Which part do you think about? Being tied up? Or me?”
He laughs at that, and another finger slips inside you. They curl inward as his thumb presses on your clit again, and the combined pressure makes you moan. You lean your head back against the fence, and he takes the opportunity to latch onto you. He kisses his way down your neck, sliding the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, pressing his lips to as much of your bare skin as he can.
His fingers work inside you, fast sometimes and other times agonizingly slow. It doesn’t take long until you feel the muscles in your body start to tighten. He feels it too, and pulls back to look at you. You can’t see his eyes with the sunglasses on, but you can feel them bore into you nonetheless. He’s watching the way your chest heaves, the way your lips part when you moan, your eyelids fluttering shut as your climax builds.
Your back starts to arch away from the fence, and you’re close, so close. Anticipation coils in your stomach, and then all at once the stimulation stops. The fingers come out, and his hand leaves your underwear altogether.
Your eyes flash open, and you watch as he puts a finger in his mouth. One at a time he sucks your wetness off his fingers, never once looking away from you. Your pussy throbs with the lack of release, and you squirm uselessly against your restraints.
“Otto, please.” You practically beg. His lips curl up into a smile, and both his hands slip under your shirt to palm your breasts.
“Please what?” He asks, as he lightly squeezes one of your tits. “What do you want kitten?”
“I want you to make me come.” His hands slide out from under your shirt, one coming up to cup your cheek and the other sliding down to just the band of your underwear. He kisses you slowly, softly, making you wait. The one hand makes its way back into your panties, teasing you.
You whine impatiently, and he chooses that moment to suddenly plunge his fingers back inside you. You gasp, and a breathy “yes” falls from your lips, eyes fluttering shut again. He grips your chin once more.
“Look at me.” He releases your chin when your eyes open, and pushes the glasses up to rest on his head. This is the first time you’ve seen him without the glasses, and your eyes meet a pair of deep brown ones that seem to bore right into your soul.
Something about it strikes you as intimate, and it sends you over the edge. All the muscles in your body clench as your orgasm hits you, and you know he can feel them tighten around his fingers. A moan from deep within your throat works it’s way out, sounding almost like a groan instead.
Your vision starts to go black as it hits its peak, and then it’s over. You’re left shaking and panting, never once did you break eye contact. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away and smiling at you.
“That’s my girl.” His fingers slip out of you. For a moment you think he’s going to untie you, and let you show him a good time. Instead your jeans are zipped up and rebuttoned, your shirt adjusted back into place. He steps away from you, and walks across the room to an old fashioned telephone hanging on a wall. He holds the receiver to his ear and dials a number.
“Good afternoon, this is Doctor Octopus. Get word to Spider-Man that I’ll be waiting for him at this address.” He rattles off the address while your brain struggles to catch up to what just happened. “Oh and, be sure to tell him that I have the usual hostage. I expect him within the hour.”
He hangs up the receiver, and crosses to a table littered with parts and devices, none of them look like they go together. He starts fiddling with one of them, turning his back to you.
“Aren’t you going to let me down?”
“And why would I do that?” He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You gape at him.
“Because-“ Your eyes flick to the phone and back to him. “Because Spider-Man is on his way. You can’t leave me like this.”
“Can’t I?” He gives you a smirk and turns back to his work. You struggle against the restraints, face burning. He can’t really mean to leave you like this when Spider-Man was on his way there. Your struggling rattles the fence you’re tied to, drawing his attention.
“Don’t worry kitten, I’ll come find you later tonight. Then we’ll have some real fun.”
He pushes the sunglasses back down over his eyes, and you wonder just how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.
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