Doctor Octopus x Reader - Hello, (Y/N).

"Feed her poetry."

I faced the front door as we were set back on the ground. The home was modest and small. The window planters were sprouting flowers. I recognized them as pansies, one of the few flowers that can withstand the current temperature. Glancing around, I hadn't noticed Otto calling out to me. "Are you coming?"

I jumped slightly as I met his gaze. Peter gave me another smug smile. I almost threw a snowball at him. Moe snapped the tips of its claws almost as if it was waiting happily for me. "Y-Yes, sorry." I sputtered. As I approached the door, I started to remove my coat.

Otto sighed before he mumbled. "I told you, you don't have to apologize." He patted my back reassuringly. It was a habit of mine to apologize. My mantra had not at all seemed to improve my confidence. I didn't want to accidentally disrespect someone like him. Then again, he didn't seem to be the prissy rich person type. I followed him and Peter as they walked to the kitchen. There was a small dining table in the middle of the room. The kitchen was homey, the whole house was. I started to feel the effects of the heating. I tugged at my shirt collar while Otto was busy gathering his utensils. Peter was already moving to sit in the only wooden chair.

I walked over to sit next to him in a cushioned seat. Peter looked caught off guard by my sudden presence next to him as I walked over awfully quiet. "I need to talk to you--well--ask you something." I whispered. He peeked over toward the nearby kitchen area.

"What?" He whispered back. I clenched my hands together.

With a deep inhale, I continued. "You successfully flirted before, at times, right?"

"I guess."

"How did you do it?"

His brow raised. "Why do you ask?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I think you know why, Peter." He slightly shook his head while attempting to appear innocent. "I know you know. Don't play around with me." I looked over at the kitchen to make sure Otto wasn't listening in. I saw the arms chopping green onions while he was cutting ... chicken? I couldn't tell. "Help me here."

Peter leaned back slightly. He finally replied after rubbing his face with his hands. "Well, Dr. Octavius gave me some advice."

I leaned in loser. "He did? What did he say?"

"He said feed a woman poetry. So, I don't know if that works for," Peter glanced over again before continuing, "someone like him."

"What do you mean? What--because he's a man?" The kid looked a little taken aback.

"N-No--I just. I don't know what I was saying."

I thought about what Otto's advice to Peter was. If you recite poetry good enough, it might work on anyone. The thing is, I literally knew no poems. No poems that would be romantic enough, anyway. I rubbed my temples. Peter leaned in again.

"You like Dr. Octavius?"

My face flushed again. As it basically had been for the past few hours. "Don't say anything. I don't even know if he knows."

Peter raised his brow again before he scoffed. "He knows."

I covered my face, trying not to curl into a fetal position and hide under the table. "How do you know?" I asked through my hands.

"He offered you his coat. I've seen how he looks at you when you act ... well--like this."

He gestured at me with his hands. Every time that gruffy old man smiled at me, I had to fight the urge to giggle and kick my feet. Peter wasn't helping in enabling my hope that Otto liked me back. In any way. "God, man, don't fuck with my feelings." I whispered. Peter rolled his eyes.

"I'm not. Just compliment him and see how he reacts. He tends to fluster over flattery of any kind."

"I can tell."

I desperately tried to think of a poem of some kind that would work. However, I was at a loss. Poetry would likely have to wait until later, anyway. Compliments will do for now. I just have to trigger my immaculate charisma. I had the impression that I could easily flirt with him until he reciprocated. Something as small as a grin would knock me off my attempt at humoring him.

We overheard the sizzling of oil in a pan. Peter asked what Otto was making, only to be answered with "it's a surprise." I prayed it wasn't something I wouldn't like. Knowing me, I'd probably just say it's good anyway. It was hard to identify what this surprise was, considering the actuators were in the way. All I had was my sense of smell. Chicken was the only thing I could identify, that and some kind of sauce.

I decided to look around the room to distract myself. Sable brown walls encircled the entire space. Vines were hanging down from one of them. There were bookshelves upon bookshelves. An aged white dish rack shelf sat right beside the counter. Glass bottles of all kinds were displayed on the glass racks above the counter. A red lantern-ish chandelier hung above the kitchen area. On the other side of the room, there was a large window. I could see some of the snow start to fall. The table underneath the window was also filled with books and baubles. I couldn't tell what the hell I was looking at some of the time. The whole room was a weird mix of styles. At least it wasn't frighteningly shiny and pristine. Those rooms have always made me feel insecure. I wasn't exactly rich, after all. If Otto was obvious about it, I'd probably have to eat him.

The whole situation felt bizarre. It was our second meeting and I was in his house. Well, with someone else. Still, I'll take what I can get.

There was an empty fireplace. I wondered if one of us should light it to heat up the place a bit more. Totally not because it makes the atmosphere more romantic. Fuck, why did Peter have to be here? I kept forgetting that it would be strange to exploit a scenario when a some guy was there in the middle of it. He was quiet for a bit, so I forgot he was there a couple of times. I started shivering again, but I wasn't cold. Peter chuckled at me. After I punched him in the arm, he muttered "ow." Attracting a man like Otto would prove difficult if I kept reacting like a school girl. But, I couldn't help myself.

Peter and I jumped when Otto exclaimed. "It's done!"