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animecinnamonroll99 · 2 months

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Octane x FEM! Reader part 17

So sorry about the long delay. Life kinda got in the way after a bout of writer's block. Should I start a tag list for those who are really invested in this?

A bit angsty but it resolves itself!

Masterlist

After about three hours of helping Ramya I headed back to the compound. The weather was nice and cool after the rain the night prior and I used it as an opportunity to think things over a little more clearly. Tavi has always been a man of action over words and seeing as he’s not the biggest fan of any emotion unless it's the joy from his adrenaline rushes, it could have been his way of telling me that things were over.

As I walked into the compound everyone’s attention fell onto me and it started to make me feel a little uncomfortable. “What’s up?” I hesitantly asked. There was a collective pause as everyone looked at each other and seemed to come to the same conclusion. After a few more moments of silence there was a general murmur of 'nothing' before everyone went back to what they were doing before I walked in. Giving my head a shake I head off to my room in the complex for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

As hours, days and several games passed, Tavi seemed to have been avoiding me as much as possible. When we're placed on the same team he only talked to me when he needed to and without any of his normal banter. The drastic change didn't go unnoticed by fans and media alike and they were all asking the same question, 'what happened to Apex's speediest couple.'

There happened to be a duo game today and I was hoping and praying that I got anyone, but Tavi. At this point I'd gladly trade him for Caustic if I could, or listen to Revenant talk about how many different ways he would kill me if I failed to help him win a game, but alas the odds weren't in my favor as the list of partners popped up.

Today's game also happened to be a charity game where everyone got to pay to pick a theme. Which just so happened to be 'beach day'. Walking over to my dresser I start digging through the bathing suits I have when a knock sounds at my door before it opens. I turn to come face to face with Loba in a striking red bikini and a matching sheer tied cover across her hips.

"Hello beautiful, I decided you need my help getting back at lover boy after what happened." She stated as she walked over and hip checked me away from the drawer I was previously digging through. "Me, I need to get back at Tavi? Are we sure this isn't to take your mind off your failing relationship with Valk?" I question as Loba pulls out bikinis and one piece alike shaking her head at each one before chucking it to a random corner. Instead of answering me she finishes going through the drawer and produces a pair of black side corset bikini bottoms with a scrunched but and a black bikini top with green fishnet on the cups and extra long strings that wrap around the torso. "Wear this with some strappy black sandals." Is all she says before exiting my room, still avoiding my questions.

Getting on the dropship half an hour later I'm greeted by wolf whistles from the majority of the male population. I just roll my eyes and head over to Fuse and Bloodhound. "Think you can run in those flip flops Walter?" I question, to which he replies with a full bellied laugh. "If I need ta run I'll ditch the shoes." He replies and Hound shakes their head in dismay. Giving them a once over I realized that they decided to sport a full body surf suit.

Drop ship reached its destination: 'King's Canyon'. The metallic female voice announced above us as a holographic map appeared in the center of the drop ship. My wrist gear lights up as my earpiece buzzes to life with Octane's voice "let's land over here." I glanced down to see that he decided on the Market. "Sure, just don't die too quick," I ok and walk towards one of the pads that'll lower for the jump.

Seconds later I'm soaring down to the building and taking notice of the 6 other teams that land nearby. Hitting the ground running I'm quick to grab the first gun I see. A Mozambique and a CAR thinking fast, I rush up the steps in front of me and into the room on my left. In the room I find a set of syringes and a shield battery. Walking in a bit further I spot a Sentinel which I'm quick to swap for the Mozambique. Just as I get ready to leave the room Tavi’s voice is in my ears again, "enemy trap here." A quick glance tells me it's right outside the corner of my room, just before the stairs. "Thanks." I say before the line goes dead.

Sighing I walk out the other door and right into an enemy. The guy is stalky at best with no real discernible features due to the strange mask he wore. "Enemy attacking." I just barely shout into my coms before the guy lifts me off the ground by my neck. I grapple around trying to get my hands on one of my guns while simultaneously trying to land a kick on the male so he'll drop me. A rapid succession of fire and the guy drops me and falls down to shield himself with the knock down.

Before I can register what happened I'm dragged back into the room I just left so I can regain my breath. I stand up just in time to see Tavi’s green trunks and bare back as he ducks out the door and back into the fights happening all around us. It's been months and he's still this cold to me? I don't think there's a chance to save any of this. I think to myself as I head back into the fray just in time to save him from getting a Mastiff shot to the back from Caustic.

After the fighting finished off in Market we quickly moved to rotate to Pit in a quick succession of fights and little to no talking. Taking cover in the building near Pit we take a moment to breathe as I look at the feed. "Four squads left." I inform Octane, only to be met yet again with silence. At this point I can't hold it anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I shouted, causing Tavi to jolt and spin so he was facing me. "We have one little fucking fight and you just up and leave me. No explanation, no chances to make things right, nothing. You left me in the damn rain to find my own way back all because you couldn't take what I was saying. Pathetic for the man who chooses to risk his life for people's entertainment-" Octane held up his hands and started to try and speak up "-no you've had your chance to speak, to try and make things right. This is my time to speak and you're going to stand there and fucking listen-" my rant gets cut off by a siren and bombs. Needing to get the anger out in a more constructive way (and to hide my frustrated tears) I rushed out of the building and into the fray.

I open fire at Gibraltar, my vision red and blood list rushing through my veins, I failed to hear Octane's warning or notice Rampart approaching with Sheila at the ready. The next thing I knew everything was black.

Waking up I find myself in the medbay on the ship. I groaned and let my head fall back onto the pillow just as the door to the room opened. “Chica?” his familiar voice called out to me. I know that he knows I’m awake, but I honestly don’t feel like talking to him at the moment. “Go away Octavio.” I state as I turn onto my side facing away from the door. “Back to the first name, damn you must be really hurt.” in that sentence something inside me just snaps. Sitting up I turn and glare at the green haired devil “Hurt?” I questioned, “Hurt you say, I must be hurt?” I rhetorically asked again. “It’s not like my boyfriend had left me in a park absolutely confused as to if he broke up with me or not, all because he couldn’t stand what I was saying. Or could it be that AFTER all of that he gave me the cold shoulder for MONTHS with no reason, nothing, not even telling me if he just needed space for a while to sort things out. So, yeah, maybe just maybe I AM HURTING LIKE HELL.” I ranted. During the outburst I had unknowingly gotten up from the bed and stalked Tavi into a corner. Before either one of us could say something further, Ajay walked into the room. “I was just coming in to check up on (y/n), but since you’re here O we also need ta talk.” Ajay interjected into the tensed silence.

As Ajay talked to Tavi, she checked out my injuries that were having some difficulties healing after the match. I just tuned them out wondering if the woman wrapping my torso with clean dressings will still be talking to the guy I’m avoiding for me to run back to my room or take him away with her so, I didn’t have to continue the inevitable conversation pertaining to the current strain in whatever relationship we have. I was silently praying to Bloodhound's old gods all the while. Once Ajay was finished with me, she stated that I had to stay in medbay until we got back to the compound.

Once Ajay was gone I kept my eyes pointedly on my lap. “We really need to talk this out since you seem to be all in your head about it.” Before I could snap back Octane pushed forward not giving me an opportunity, “I know I stranded you there, but it was only momentarily. You were gone before I came back for you. Yes i didn't like what you were saying, was it the truth,” he shrugs noncommittally “maybe, I don't know for sure. Pops hasn't been answering any questions I ask about that night. When I got back to the compound everyone was telling me to give you space and that you'd come to me when you were ready. I wanted to apologize, completely out of character I know. I've been trying to figure out who I can trust and how much I can give back in return. What I learned is that I don't like fighting with you, nor do I like being able to talk to you or hold you. Do you think you could forgive me for my foolishness?” I decided to sit there and truly think over what Tavi said before replying, “I think it'll take more than just this and that we'll have to reestablish our trust in each other, eventually yes i think i can.”

#octane x reader #apex legends #octavio silva #love story #octane #gibraltar #ajay che #bloodhound #bathing suit

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laracrofted · 1 year

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fic rec tag

Rules: Recommend us 3 of YOUR fics: 1 that is "most popular" and 2 that are "hidden gems!" Then tag some folks.

since I only just started posting fics, I am going to cheat a little bit and only do one of each. thank you to @anniesocsandgeneralstore for the tag!

most popular: we're run inside out from the cold

fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

complete / 1 of 1 / 2379

pairings: jake seresin x fem!reader (jake pov, no y/n)

warnings: fluff, swearing, just kissing, smut is implied only but jake has some impure thoughts so… minors dni

synopsis: jake takes his girlfriend home for christmas. (or i realized jake seresin will never chop down a christmas tree for me while making this mood board and had to soothe the ache somehow.)

i did not plan to write this at all, but i was feeling festive and melancholic for a cozy winter night, and here we are!

hidden gem: baby, i'm high octane

fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

WIP / 2 of 6 / 14,073

pairings: jake seresin x original female character, minor bradley bradshaw x original female character (and i do mean that, not a love triangle)

warnings: language, existential dread, alcohol consumption, slutty (affectionate) rooster, lovestruck hangman, eventual smut in later chapters (minors dni), set post-movie

synopsis: charlie blackwood's documentary filmmaker niece takes a contract on north island to have her existential crisis in peace and a cocky naval aviator can't seem to leave her alone.

nora... my avoidant attachment and existential crisis angel... and pining, irritating jake... time to listen to the archer and work on the third chapter of this...

no pressure tags: @t-nd-rfoot @theharddeck (i'd say i want fic recs but i think i've read everything you've ever posted lol) and anyone else who wants to join in!

#fic rec tag #fic: baby i'm high octane #fic: we could run inside out from the cold

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shortythescreen · 4 years

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come over chapter 3: the party.

Warning(s): Dysfunctional family dynamics, Octavio’s parents being assholes, misuse of stim, kind of abrupt ending, fem reader, NSFT/18+.

Relationship(s): Octane/ Female Reader.

Author’s Notes: Last chapter you guys! Thank you so much for sticking with me through this. I’ve had so much fun writing come over and hope to write for Octane again soon <3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

The rest of your ride to Psamathe is smooth. You and Octavio sip at that Aguardiente but about a half an hour before you two are due to arrive, you make him put it away. He protests, trying to tell you that in order to deal with his parents, you were going to need to be at least kind of buzzed. You two stash the drink anyway, drinking water all the way over, and Octavio eyes you up in the silence that follows.

Octavio probably could’ve given you head right after you finished with him but you were insistent about not looking sex ruffled – which would be a lot harder to hide with your hair fucked up, and that dress you’re wearing.

This is technically a job for you. He bats the thought away, trying to tell himself you came out as a friend. As your ship lands, though, and you lug your giant camera tote he told you that you didn’t need to bring out of the ship…

It’s not discouraging. There’s nothing to be discouraged about.

Which is what Octavio tells himself as you two approach his childhood home.

You react like most people do to the sight of where he grew up: your jaw drops, your eyes widen, and you take the time to look the manor up and down. Ma always complained she’d wanted a bigger mansion. Considering she and Pa had only had him, that had never made a lot of sense to Octavio. Their room was empty most of the time, let alone all the other ones that he or the housekeepers didn’t occupy.

“Holy shit,” you mumble to him and he offers you the crook of his elbow. You turn your head to look at him and blanch. Octavio stares at you, foot beginning to tap impatiently. “What are you doing?”

“Offering you my arm. You’re my plus one. This is what rich people do, amiga,” he tells you. He distinctly leaves out the fact that he had etiquette training from the time he could walk until he was thirteen and purposefully jumped off the top of the stairs mid-lesson. His arm was broken, and he was in a sling which meant he didn’t have to go through which spoon was the right one again.

“I forget you’re a rich person,” you say.

“Makes one of us. Take the arm, mami, c’mon, let’s get this over with.”

You raise an eyebrow at him but slide your hand into the crook of his elbow anyway. You two stroll up to the way too big, double doors of the mansion and a large man Octavio doesn’t recognize opens one of them.

Inside the foyer, there’s a line of men in black suits, clearly some kind of security detail. Your heels click across the porcelain floors and when he chances a sideways glance at you, he sees that you’re unable to flush your face of the awe written across it – the vaulted ceilings and the crystal chandelier glittering in your eyes. You turn your head, looking up at the portrait of him, and ma, and pa, and he tugs your arm a little closer, trying to take your attention off of the grim looking little boy he didn’t see himself in.

He turns his gaze ahead and instantly his arms tense. Mami stands in the threshold of the ballroom, eyes stabbing through his.

Last he’d seen her, she’d had the beginnings of grays at her temples. Predictably, she’s dyed it back to its original brown, and stands with her back poised straight, hands folded in front of her. When you two are close enough, her pinkened lips pull upwards, into a smile that shows her teeth but doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Mijito,” she says, opening her arms. She wraps them around him, and they press their cheeks together in a brief kiss. “This is your photographer?”

“Si mami,” he murmurs, using the hand you don’t have captive to gesture your way. He tells Mami your name and how every piece of media that’s come out of Apex’s headquarters has been yours. “She’s incredible at what she does.”

“I should hope so. We expect nothing but the best,” says Mami.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Silva,” you say, offering your hand out. Mami’s smile doesn’t fade but if it didn’t reach her eyes before, it definitely doesn’t now, anger flaring in them.

“Ms. Silva, cariña,” croons Mami, and Octavio cringes away from the way her voices oozes, thickened by sweetness she doesn’t truly have. “I divorced from Octavio’s father a long time ago.”

“Oh, I-” you begin, probably going to apologize for information he hadn’t given you. Octavio doesn’t want you to do that. As a matter of fact, he kind of wants his mom to apologize for looking at you so coldly when she hadn’t publicized her and Pa’s divorce to begin with. Octavio jumps in, cutting you off.

“She didn’t know, ma, back off,” he bites. Ma’s blazing eyes turn on him and he glares back. Before she can say more, Octavio is hauling you into the ballroom.

“She can set up in the corner, near the bay windows!” Ma calls after him in Spanish and Octavio’s nostrils flare. He doesn’t feel like playing translator for someone who speaks English just fine tonight, but he has a feeling she’s going to rope him back in, make him play the dutiful son just for talking back. The bar’s already set up and kitchen staff are putting out a long buffet table of food. In the corner that Ma said you could set up in, there’s a long drape rolled out with Silva Pharms logo all over it – in bright, stim green.

“Oc,” you say, catching his attention as you two pull up to where you’ll be stationed for a majority of the evening. The hand on the inside of his elbow squeezes and he turns his head to look at you, at the little furrow between your brows, at your other hand moving around to squeeze his. “Hey, it’s okay. Some people don’t like to even think about being married to someone they divorced. I get that.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” mutters Octavio. “She was a lot meaner than she seemed.”

“Well, I didn’t notice. So, it’s fine,” you say. Your hand encompasses his and he watches your tote fall to the crook of your elbow instead of your shoulder. You don’t try to adjust it though, focused on him, and that makes his shoulder relax as much as it makes his pulse rapid. “It’s okay, Oc, seriously. We just got here. No one’s here yet. Help me set up and then we’ll grab some food before your parents’ guests arrive, okay?”

That… Sounds like a good plan. Octavio tries to shake the nervous energy from his limbs, remind himself that at least you’re here, but he can’t quite get rid of it. He feels like a dog backed into a corner by handlers with sticks but instead of beating him, none of them are moving.

To take his mind off it, he rapidly puts together your camera. You scold him several times, reminding him to be careful with your equipment.

“Octavio, you have to screw that in, not push it-”

“I knew that!”

“You did not!”

Octavio only cackles when you tell him the right way to set up your camera, but he does do it the way you tell him to. Once your camera is put together and placed on its little trifold, you and Octavio meander over to the buffet.

Whoever Ma hired to cater (because Ma always does all the organizing for these things; Pa just shows up) likes colorful dishes, bright blue and reds staring up at you two. There’s some leviathan meat in the corner that Octavio will definitely getting his hands on before the night is over, cooked medium rare with some kind of garlic and herb butter spread over it, the juice pooling in the plate beneath. More important than that though is finding the chicharron that Octavio knows is here.

It only takes him a minute to pull up the rind, with large, square knots of pork along it. He grins at you, coming closer, the meat recklessly flopping with every step.

“You gotta try this,” he says as you bend over the other edge, eyeballing what he’s pretty sure is some kind of cheesecake, placed just beneath the chocolate fountain. You twist around with an empty plate, hovering it just beneath the chicharron before it can drip onto the floor.

“You need a plate,” you reply and Octavio snickers. Despite your words, you lean in, biting the edge of one of the protruding cubes of pork. You sigh at the taste and Octavio grins, showing all his teeth. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, baby!”

You and Octavio eat before the guests arrive and as people begin to filter into the ballroom, you take your place at the corner where you’ll be taking pictures. Octavio isn’t too far away, pacing the big, empty space just beside the tarp with all the Silva Pharm logos. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until someone he doesn’t recognize comes up to him, laughing about how Octane can never sit still, huh?

Octavio smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he agrees. That’s one of the things he’s always hated about these stupid fundraisers or events or whatever the hell this thing is. He usually doesn’t know half the people there, or even a quarter, and they all walk up to him like they know him. Even more so now that he’s made Octane.

“Octavio,” someone says, and he glances up to see his Ma fast approaching. She doesn’t look angry, though. Maybe a little annoyed but Octavio has learned that she always looks like that, one side of her mouth pulled up a little further than the other, brows low on her face. At least, she always looks that way around him. “Come and say hello, the photographer isn’t going anywhere.”

Octavio sputters, though Ma places her hand on the inside of his elbow and without thinking, Octavio bends his arm to meet her. Octavio doesn’t think a lot anyway, but it feels like a low blow to use you to make his brain work a little less. He glances back at you, standing with your back straight, waiting for someone to come get their photo op. You smile at him. He smirks back.

It makes sense that mostly old people invest in a pharmaceutical company but that doesn’t mean Octavio doesn’t find them totally, completely boring. They talk about things like their most recent vacations, or something silly their butlers did, and Ma laughs along, placing a hand over her chest as though these stories are the funniest things she’s ever heard.

Maybe they are. Octavio wouldn’t know. He stopped finding the staff’s misfortune funny around the time Señora Luz told Pa she was pregnant, and she suddenly didn’t have a job anymore. He wasn’t allowed to open the door for her either.

Ajay’s parents approach and Mami greets them warmly, pulling them into big hugs and giving them kisses on each cheek. On principle alone, Octavio is a little less familiar, waving their way, and they all laugh about how they’d never known him to be shy.

They didn’t know the first thing about him anyway.

“Oh, but where is his blazer?” Ajay’s mom asks and Octavio grunts. Ma turns her cold eyes back to him, calculatingly sizing him up. She must not have noticed when he walked in that he wasn’t wearing one. He’d almost gotten away with it, too.

“It’s so hot in here, don’t you think?” Ma smoothly covers and Octavio taps his fingers soundlessly against his thigh. He’ll hear about it later.

Octavio finds himself getting restless. His fingers itch and his toes curl in his overpriced shoes. He wants to run. Maybe even turn and jump out the bay window. Or go out back and see if Ma still has horses on this property or if she finally got sick of the memories of Pa in these halls.

He glances your way, finding you hunched over your camera. The couple at the other end of it smiles and you snap three shots, back to back. He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them, but you’d know if the angles were different, or if one had flash and another didn’t. When they walk off, you stand upright and catch his eye.

Your wink sends a powerful burst of something through his chest. It makes his blood pump faster but also makes his shoulders relax and fuck. He’s so, totally fucked. You’re the one thing keeping him from doing something stupid. Which means he’s fucked.

“Mijo,” he hears, though this time it isn’t Ma, and Octavio curses to himself. Yeah. He’s fucked.

He turns, not bothering to paste on a smile. If nothing else, amongst themselves, the Silva’s aren’t fake. Ma is busy with the Ches and a group of people that like to laugh at other people’s expense. Octavio hasn’t seen his Pa in awhile but he looks just like Octavio remembers – his thick eyebrows are trimmed, arched like he’d spent way too much time having someone do them, his dark hair graying at the edges. Unlike Ma, he doesn’t dye it though, claiming the silver makes him look more refined, that his most recent wife likes him gray. He’s surprised she’s not clinging to his arm, in something way too tight and tiny that would piss Ma off if she saw it.

“Where’s Gloria?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. Gloria’s young, grossly so, closer to Octavio in age than Pa. She’s nice, though, and last Octavio heard, she and Pa’s marriage was going swimmingly.

“Who knows?” Pa asks back and Octavio subtly rolls his eyes. Leave it to Pa not to know where his wife is. He doesn’t outright berate her though, which means they must still be together, so she’s somewhere around here. Octavio should say hi. He’d be happier to see her than Pa, or Ma. “You look nice tonight, hijo. Thank you for bringing a photographer – you know your Mama won’t let anyone I hire work.”

Octavio does not know that and doesn’t really care to, but he nods along anyway. His eyes keep flickering over to you, eager to go make stupid faces in the background of your pictures or tickle your sides so that you lose focus.

“Ah, I see,” Papa says. Irritated, Octavio turns his gaze back to him.

“You see what?” He asks.

“You’re fucking her?” Papa asks and Octavio feels his shoulders jump up to his ears. His whole body braces, like he’s about to jam stim into his thigh, like he’s about to take off in the middle of a firefight.

“What the fuck, papa?” He hisses back, not even realizing they’ve switched to Spanish until a second after he’s speaking it. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

“C’mon, son, you wouldn’t be the first one to fuck the help,” sniffs Papa, and the way he says help makes Octavio bristle all over. “It’s okay. She’s cute!”

“That’s none of your business,” seethes Octavio, practically baring his teeth. “Don’t compare her to Luz. This is different.”

“Luz? I wasn’t talking about Luz,” says Papa. Then, his eyes narrow, and he looks a little bit more hostile, stepping into Octavio’s space. “What do you mean different? Octavio, did you get her pregnant? You know we can’t afford that kind of a scandal-”

“Oc!” You suddenly chime from his right and he and Papa both jump. He spins to face you and you look at him, bug eyed, hands risen like you’re trying to declare a cease fire. “-Tane. Octane. Buddy. Some people are asking you for a photo-op… Am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“No, no, not at all, sweetheart,” Papa says, moving forward to introduce himself. Somehow, it’s worse than Mami not doing it at all, especially with the sweet smile you give him as you shake hands. “Go, Octane. The people want you. Here, take a vial with you, get into character.”

Pa hands him a vial of stim and Octavio’s fingers close tightly around it, knuckles white with frustration. You jam your hand into the crook of Octavio’s arm and drag him away. He’s still fuming, hot all over with his rage, and you move a little closer to him as you guys stroll across the ballroom.

“You okay? That looked kind of heated,” you say, and Octavio looks down at you, doing his best not to fixate all that fury on you.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s-it’s fine- did someone really want a photo-op or did you just sneak me out?” He asks, realizing that you must’ve seen that something was going on between he and his papa. The sheepish smile that tugs your lips confirms it. Octavio laughs, trying not to bend at the waist so he can keep walking. “Bad girl.”

“Sorry,” you say, but Octavio kind of wants to kiss you for it, “but I can keep you for a little while with that photo-op thing. These people won’t turn it down.”

Okay, yeah, Octavio really wants to kiss you. Not only did you save him from an exchange with pa (about you, but he pushes that part to the back of his mind), you’re now offering to keep him from him indefinitely.

“You’re the best,” murmurs Octavio. His lips barely brush your ear and he doesn’t miss the little stutter of your breath. Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to repay you for earlier on the ride back to the Apex City.

Octavio lines up and that really seems to get people wanting to come over for pictures. Two old men he doesn’t recognize give him a cigar and he wedges it and the stim vial between his teeth, pointing at the camera with two of them. When a woman walks up, he dips her low, cackling while she swoons. More people come and Octavio makes stupid faces at the camera, even getting one old timer to throw up horns with him. You make the shoot fun and for once, he thinks he might have to pat Ajay on the back. Or apologize for lying. Maybe both.

“Mijito,” Octavio hears in the middle of another picture with two women. One has her hands on his chest, her leg swept up, and the other presses against his back while he holds up his arms in some silly superman pose. He peers over the head of the one in front of him, seeing not only Mami, but Pa standing at the very edge of the tarp. Fuck.

The picture’s taken and you lift yourself from behind the camera, glancing between him and his parents. He shoos away the two women, who thank him for the time and then swarm you to get a look at the picture. You fumble with your camera, clearly preoccupied with making sure his mami doesn’t bite his head off. With no other option, your gaze turns to the photos, and Octavio tries his best to keep his chin held high as he walks over to his parents.

“Your papa has told me something interesting,” says Mami first. Octavio’s jaw clenches and whatever tension he’d been accumulating earlier returns full force. The urge to run or fight hits him hard but he stands his ground. “Is that photographer pregnant?”

“No,” groans Octavio, reaching up to scrub at his face. “God, what is wrong with you two? Why is it if I look at someone you have to tell me to not get them pregnant? Or assume I will?”

“You haven’t been responsible with anything else. Why would we expect you to be responsible with sex?” Mami demands. If he weren’t already seething, Octavio might be embarrassed at this conversation. He is, though.

“I was responsible with Navi. And with every other pet you got me. And with my stim. I’m here, aren’t I?” He growls out and Mami holds up a finger instantly, drawing a little closer to try and hide the look she’s giving him.

“Don’t speak to your mother that way.” Pa says and Octavio whips his head to look at him, instead of his mother’s icy glare.

“What way? I’m just telling her the truth. I’m here when I didn’t want to be. I brought you guys a photographer,” growls Octavio.

“For no one else’s benefit but your own,” hisses Mami, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t do something like this without an ulterior motive. Does she have something on you Octavio? Is that why you brought her here?”

“No! She’s a good photographer and I needed someone other than you two here!” Octavio snaps, the words rolling off like venom and Mami’s chin tilts down, eyes flashing.

“Oh, of course, bringing a chew toy to a PR event must make you feel so much better,” Mami scoffs. He reaches up, pushing a hand through his brightly colored mohawk, nostrils flaring.

“Don’t talk about her like that,”

“I’ll talk about whoever I want however I want, and-”

“Not her!”

“God, you are just like your father, Octavio. We cannot afford to have you in trouble with the Games, and certainly not for some-”

“Ma, I’m not doing this with you. I’m here, I’m promoting Silva, and unless you want me to leave, you will not speak about her the way I know you were just about to. You will not.” Octavio outright barks and this seems to draw the attention of those strolling by them. Mami’s face slackens, her eyes flashing. In them, in the clench of her jaw, the curl of her fist, he sees something. Something like recognition.

He doesn’t care, too busy fuming about the fact they’re even having this stupid fucking argument. Octavio barely notices Pa, standing off to the side, looking as useless as he always does when he and Mami argue, or the short, porky man that hurries up to Mami’s left.

“Excuse me, Señora Silva,” the butler says, cutting their staring contest short. “There’s something requiring your attention in the kitchen. A wine shipment hasn’t arrived?”

“Hijo de gran puta,” snarls Mami, throwing her hands up. She turns away from his glower and it feels good to have won one of those standoffs. Even if it was technically a foul. Mami stomps into the distance and that leaves Octavio and Pa.

“Son, you know it’s not a good idea to-” begins Pa, but Octavio doesn’t let him finish. He hates when he does things that remind him of Mami but he turns away from him anyway, looking out at the rest of the ballroom as though he’d just gotten into an argument with everyone in it. He wants to run. He wants to jam the stim into his thigh and carry himself all the way back to the ship port, maybe roll in some mud to get this stupid crisp button up dirty. He wants to-

“Hey,” your voice chimes gently. He feels your fingers on his cheek and you turn his head, making him look at you. Your face is soft, and vulnerable, and open, and he’s so fucked. “C’mon. Show me to the bathroom.”

Octavio snorts. He offers you his elbow, but you don’t take it, instead interlocking your fingers and pulling him towards the exit. He notices your camera is still set up on the way out, but you’ve draped something over it to signify your booth is closed for a little while. Realizing he’s supposed to be taking you somewhere, Octavio pulls you up the stairs, down the hall, and into one of the many rooms of his childhood.

Being the son of preoccupied billionaires with too much on their plates to bother handling a rambunctious little boy, Octavio had a lot of rooms growing up. He had a game room, and a homework room (which was supposed to function as an office, when he got old enough to take over some of Silva Pharms mountains of paperwork). This room was always his favorite though. He slept in it most nights and even when he moved out, he hadn’t changed anything about it.

The full-sized mattress in the corner has racecar sheets. Octavio can’t drive for shit, but he always liked to watch old movies when it was common for everyone to use cars. The noises of engines rumbling with motor oil, of rubber on pavement… When he was a little boy, he told Luz he wanted to be a race car driver when he grew up. She laughed but on every holiday from then on out, she bought him a model race car.

All of them are lined up on the very top of a shelf, which has a bright red racing strip painted down the side. He’s got posters of old Nascar drivers on the wall, people who have been dead for centuries but who got to do super cool, fun things. Who sometimes even wrecked their cars.

“Hope you didn’t actually need the bathroom,” mutters Octavio, locking the bedroom door.

“What if I did?” You ask. He looks over his shoulder at you, checking to see if you’re serious, only to see you lounging on the edge of his mattress, peering around the room.

“Your room’s really cute,” you say, and Octavio snorts as he joins you, collapsing onto his old bed. It was way too big for him as a little kid, and even now as a young man, his slight frame doesn’t take up much of the larger beds offered to him. “Who even likes cars anymore? No one drives them.”

“We have a Bugatti in the garage.”

“Of course you do.” You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the party downstairs just barely reaching you. “So… you wanna talk about it?”

Not really. Talking about it means telling you what it was that got him and his parents into an argument in the first place. “My parents are just… The worst.”

“I got that.” You say. He glances your way, appraising you, and you hold your hands up. “Hey, we call them like we see them here.”

“They just, um.” Octavio frowns. Should he tell you? He feels like he shouldn’t. “My dad kind of saw me looking at you and asked if we were fucking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you says anything, unsure of how to proceed. Octavio’s knee begins to jiggle, and he huffs out a big breath, dragging a hand down his face.

“I told him it was none of his business, so I guess he decided to tell my mom. Which was… What that was about,” explains Octavio, waving his hand noncommittally. “They thought you were pregnant.”

“Ouch,” you say, and Octavio giggles. He peers over at you and you’re smiling, eyes soft, shining in the low light from his stupid race car lamp. Your make up has smudged a little, the vermillion on your lips mostly gone after you two had your share of food. Yet he can still see the remnants of it, especially as he sees the little upwards curve of your lips.

Fuck.

Without thinking, Octavio reaches up, hand cupping the back of your neck so he can haul you into a kiss, trying to take the remnants of that pretty red you’d been wearing. You go willingly, matching his vigor, his speed, and that’s one of the things he loves about you. One of the things that’s been driving him crazy, keeping him up until ungodly hours as he tries to figure how someone could affect him this way. You always keep up, even if you’re not ready to run into the line of fire.

You rest your hand on his chest, tilting your head, and Octavio instantly wedges his tongue between your lips. You part them readily and you still kind of taste like whatever chocolatey something or other you’d gotten your hands on earlier. His other hand settles on your hip, and he wants to pull you on top so badly, wants you to scream so loudly that they know what’s going on downstairs. He wants you to look at him like you just were but maybe forever.

He wants to tell you. He wants to tell you what he said to you that night, what’s had him so bugged out. The thought alone feels like a rush.

You pull away from him pressing kisses across the taut flesh of his jaw. He sighs, head moving away, and your teeth clink against the black studs he has in his ear lobes. His blood pumps in his veins, the hand on your neck gliding down the length of your spine.

“Te adoro,” he murmurs between kisses. You pause, pulling away to meet his eyes. Your hair tickles his cheeks and he reaches up, tucking it behind your ear. “Eres en mi vida todo mi tesoro.”

“What?”

“Quiero decirte. Pero tengo miedo,” continues Octavio, fingers slipping into your hair. He tugs you down, catching your lower lip between his teeth, and you shudder in his grasp. You’re half on top of him, your body hot, your mouth swollen, and he wants. “No quiero perderte.”

“Oc, I don’t understand,” you breathe. Rather than telling you, though, he kisses you hard, lips moving across yours, and you melt into his arms.

“Jesús,” groans Octavio as his hand slides beneath the high cut on the side of your dress. He grabs at your panties, trying to yank them down your thighs. The twist of your torso to lean over him makes it hard. “Get those things off.”

“What did you say?” You huff out, though you obediently rise, dragging your panties down.

Rather than answering you, Octavio grabs you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. He doesn’t stop you at his cock, though, half hard and tightening his pants. Instead, he helps you up, hooking your legs beneath his shoulders, your thighs on either side of his head and you whine, burying your fingers into his soft hair as you realize what he’s doing.

His hands travel up your naked thighs, to your ass, gripping it tightly. He looks up at you, at the dark look in your eyes as you pull the fabric of your dress aside, spreading your legs wider, clit even closer to his mouth. He huffs a breath against your cunt, damp but not wet, and his cock demands that he rectifies that right now.

With no further warning, Octavio’s mouth finds the shape of your cunt, molding against it, wetly kissing the pretty pink flesh. You quietly gasp, fingers wrinkling your dress, and he swipes at your slit with gentle flicks of his tongue, letting the musky taste of you linger on his lips.

That doesn’t feel right, though, not for the urgency at which he feels the need to move, so he flattens his tongue, sliding it through your slickening folds and up to your clit, slowly peeking out. The minute he feels it, firm and juicy and wet beneath his tongue, he sucks it between his lips.

The unhinged moan you let out is only emphasized by how you tighten your grip on his hair. You try to spread your legs further and Octavio fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your ass. Octavio helps you fuck your clit against his tongue, using his grip to make you grind against him, and the moan that leaves you sends a painful jolt to his dick.

His eyes flutter briefly open and if he wasn’t hard before, he is now, Dios. Your hair frames your warmed face beautifully, mouth open to heave in desperate little pants. Your clit is needy, twitching against his tongue, and your hands are fisted into the fabric of your dress, partly for leverage and partly to give him access to you.

His tongue slips down to your hole, the tip of it pushing, pressing it apart to gather up even more of your taste. You shudder above him, trying to roll your hips forward, and Octavio quickly takes the hint. His tongue moves back up to your clit, flicking back and forth, moving swiftly, and he feels your thighs tense, ass cheeks clenching in his hands.

“Oh, Oc, don’t stop,” you whimper, and he sucks as you thrust forward, uncaring of the way his chin drips with you. He’s going to smell like pussy. “God, right there, right there, Octavio, yes, yes, yesyesyes-”

You cum with a noiseless gush and Octavio groans at the sensation of your juice trailing down his chin. He doesn’t care that you slacken in his grip, that he’s momentarily suffocated by your cunt, just wants you to grind against his face as much as you can, try to ride out that orgasm you just had. You shudder, pushing at his head. Octavio pulls away, letting you scoot back down the length of him. The second he can reach you he kisses you, open mouthed and dirty, letting you taste the salty cum on his lips.

“Fuck.”

“Si, I’m trying,” he says, pressing your hips against his slacks. The noise that leaves you is half laugh, half moan, your clit hypersensitive against the fabric. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yes,” you say, “please, yes. Yes, let’s fuck.”

“Yes, good, okay,” Octavio babbles. He taps your ass with two fingers. As you roll off, he undoes his belt, tossing it to the side. He unzips his pants, thumbs hooking into the waistband, only to find you reaching down to help him. He raises his eyebrows up at you and you smirk, seemingly having caught your second wind. “Si?”

“Si?” You taunt, reaching down to tug his pants down. You only pull them just enough that his cock can spring out, erect from eating you out, and you sigh at the sight of it.

He grins, trying to scoot his pants down a little more, only to pause at the sensation of something cool in his pocket. You climb on top of him, parting your dress again, and he watches you carefully.

With one hand, Octavio rolls that sweetheart neckline down your shoulders, to your elbows. It puts you in an odd position, unable to move your hands, but your tits fall out and, fuck, if that isn’t the sexiest shit he’s seen.

“I’m gonna ride you.”

“Oh, I thought you were sleeping.”

You snort. Unable to move your arms, your dress caught around your biceps, Octavio has to reach down to position his dick beneath your wet cunt. It opens beautifully for him as he drags the blunt tip along your lips, drenched with your earlier orgasm, and when it bumps your clit you jolt. Finally, gratefully, he finds your hole, and without further teasing, you sink all the way down onto him.

Your mouth falls open and you both groan in unison. Octavio’s thighs clench, trembling, because it’s only been a few hours since he’s cum and he’s not sure how much it will take for him to do it again. You feel so good, though, your pussy pulling him in.

“God, Oc,” you groan, falling forward, and your hands find purchase on his firm abdomen, tits squishing together as your index fingers touch. Before he can say something back, you’re moving, breasts jiggling with every bounce of your hips.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whines, tips of his fingers digging into your thigh, and he’s pretty sure you can feel his pulse thumping through his dick. He bucks up into you, making your tits bounce harder, and you gasp as the tip of his cock thumps against something that feels different than the rest. “God, there?”

“There,” you moan back. As your eyes flutter shut, he slowly, carefully, pulls the neon green vial from his pocket. You’re lost in your own bliss, only sliding halfway up his cock. He waits, waits for your eyes to flutter open and when you finally look at him again, eyes heady and dark with lust, he jams the stim into his thighs.

Your jaw falls open, eyes widening as his veins bulge green, eyes brightening. He grins, wolfish, heart pounding. In the games, the stim makes him want to run, to shoot something. Now, all it does is make him eager to fuck you harder, faster, faster, faster.

The vial rolls out of his hand and he seizes your hips, holding you in place. You whine, desperate and he’s quick to oblige you. He thrusts up, cock disappearing and reappearing in a blur, tirelessly fucking you from the bottom, his thighs tensing at the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock.

The soft hair around his cock is already slick with you, worsening as he fucked into you with all the energy he saves for the ring, saves for when he’s Octane. Your chin drops against your chest, and he devours you with his eyes. He catches the way your teeth sink painfully into your lower lip and something primal comes over him, an animalism for your noises to overpower the ones from the party downstairs.

One of his hands shoots to your stomach, thumb blurring down to your clit. He fondles the hard, wet nub, and groans at the sensation of your pussy muscles clenching hard around his throbbing cock.

You borderline scream, trying your best to smother it with a scramble of your hand. It doesn’t help, the noise choppy with every powerful thrust of his hips into your cherry red cunt.

“Oh! Octavio! Oc!” You cry, the fingers of your opposite hand digging into his button up, grasping for purchase. He doesn’t know whether you lose your balance or just can’t keep yourself upright, but you plummet into his chest. He doesn’t flinch, just uses the angle to fuck you down the length of him, panting into your ear. Your pussy makes wet noises as he pounds you down onto his cock, tongue flickering out over your ear.

“What did you say?” You suddenly whine. It startles him and his rhythm stutters with his surprise, breath hitching in his throat. He holds it until he’s lightheaded, staring past your head at the ceiling. You weakly grind against his cock and he realizes he’s practically stopped moving, body only moving because of the stim being force through his veins like adrenaline.

“Oc,” you huff out, turning to press your brow against his throat. He can feel his pulse hammering in his jugular and he can’t tell if it’s because of the stim or because of you. “Please.”

Octavio abruptly sits up beneath you. His hands wrap tight around your waist, lips placing wet, open mouthed kisses along your collarbones.

“Te amo,” he murmurs into your skin, lowly, like maybe you won’t hear him if he speaks quietly enough. Recognition flashes in your face. The arms of your dress slide back up your shoulders as you suddenly wrap your arms around his shoulders You use him for leverage to lift yourself up and down his cock, your wet cunt squeezing, hugging. Sloppy noises make their way out and he vaguely recognizes that his pants are going to be ruined.

“Say it so I can understand you,” you demand and he’s helpless, a slave to your desires, every sweet roll of your hips sending bolts of lightening through his gut. He grunts, fingers digging into your lower back.

“Fuck,” he hisses and you twist your head, biting into his throat. He moans, the noise low, strangled, drawn out as you continue to raise and drop your hips, only moving part way up his dick as you do. “Fuck, fuck, baby, porfa, I need-”

“Say it!” You gasp, the friction of his pubic bone against your clit sending you into a frenzy, making you use your grip on his shoulders to raise yourself up higher, until only the tip is inside. Your thighs work to keep you up but you slam back down and Octavio shudders.

“I love you,” he finally whispers, and you turn your head into his hair, wailing near his ear. He whimpers at the noise, trying to roll up. In this position, though, he’s at your mercy, and you fuck yourself onto him once, twice, three more times until you’re shaking into a wetter, softer orgasm.

He hisses at the sensation, at how your cunt clutches him, trying to keep him inside even as you continue to drag your body along his dick. He presses his face to the space between your breasts, smelling your sweat, and your perfume, and he pulls you all the way down so you’re sitting on the very base of his cock, rocking you along it. Almost there, right there, yes, mierda, so good…

“Fuck,” he hisses out loud as he cums. It’s weaker than the one in the ship, little spurts gushing out of him instead of erupting. He keeps his forehead on your chest, catching his breath, your cheek resting on top of his head as you do the same.

“So…” you say, softly, and your voice is hoarse, even though you hadn’t been doing a whole lot of noise making. Shame flushes through Octavio, the last of the stim ebbing from his system. He’ll need to get his dialysis machine to wash away the shreds of it but he can’t focus on that, can’t focus on anything but what he said to you.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m,” he says, grabbing your hips, trying to push you off. You clutch him tighter and your fingers cup his chin. You bring his gaze up to yours and his breath hitches at the way you look at him, at that soft, gentle look that he wanted you to give him forever.

“I love you too.” You say. The world freezes. The noise from downstairs fogs out of his ears, the wet, sticky sensation of you on top of him gone as he stares up at you. You, who has been here for him this whole night, who started off as a hook up.

He moves quicker than lightening, quicker than he’s ever moved, yanking you into a kiss. Your lips move together, hurried, passionate, making up for all the time he didn’t know. He pulls away, lips making a wet, popping sound.

“I could listen to you say that all day,” he huffs out. You giggle and he holds you tightly to his chest for a long, perfect minute, your fingers carding through his short hair.

Octavio hurtles back onto the bed, arms flopping above his head and you snort, still sitting in his lap, his dick inside of you. You don’t seem in a hurry to get it out though. Octavio strokes your thigh. “I really wish you would’ve told me that before this. I could’ve come as your girlfriend.”

Octavio’s lips twitch up in a little smile and he reaches up, placing a hand on your cheek. You make a face at the sweat there, but you don’t move away, your eyes a little softer, a little more open than he’s seen them before.

“You could’ve told me. Ever thought of that, chica?” Octavio asks. He throws his head back, laughing when you lean away from him, climbing off his lap to flop next to him in bed. You loop an arm around his shoulders, interlocking your fingers and nestling against the one closer to you.

“You’re insufferable,” you say, and he kisses the top of your head, humming.

“You love me.”

“I do. I do.”

#octane/reader #octavio silva/reader #octane x reader #octavio silva x reader #apex octane #apex legends octane #apex legends #apex lemons #apex imagines #nsft #lemon #shorty writes #female reader

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sinsofbeauty · 2 years

Note

Hii! Could I request an revenant one-shot where female!reader (or gender neutral!) has a crush on them and gets jealous when someone else flirts/ or praises his skills? I would love to see how the killer robot would act in this situation (taking in account revenant also feels something)

Jealousy is a bitch

Fandom: Apex Legends

Pairing: Revenant x Fem! Reader

Requested: Yes XD

Warnings: Jealousy, Profanity

Overview: Within the request

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you and everyone enjoys! Feel free to send in more :D

Today’s match was somewhat decent, not the most exciting you would have expected. Stormpoint was a really big arena, and unlike the others, if you don’t land hot it could take a while for you to find another squad. The most you and your teammate Bloodhound had done was take out Gibby and Octane, as well as kill a few prowlers along the way. You both made it to the top three, but didn’t win since you were both cursed with purple evo shields. Though you weren’t that happy about not winning, you didn’t complain due to coming in at #3. The squad who did win though, was Mad Maggie and that simulacrum Revenant.

“The fight vas plentiful vhile it lasted.” Bloodhound spoke as you both walked in the dropship. “Though I am not ready for the interviews.”

You weren’t a big fan of interviews either, and you agreed with Hound on that part. There were always annoying reporters and writers asking about the match when it was visible to the public eye to see, and stupid questions that make your brain melt. But of course it was part of being a legend. Your nose scrunched, but Bloodhound patted your shoulder in reassurance.

“Don’t vorry you’ll do great. I need to go vind Valter Fitzroy, but I will find you bevore we go inside.”

You nodded, and Bloodhound left swiftly. It seemed like it was something urgent, though you knew they would take care of it. You then heard Maggie’s voice around the corner just as you leaned your back against a wall, ears perking up at the mention of your so called ‘crush’. At this point, you didn’t bother pushing yourself off the wall and walking away. No, you wanted to hear what the simulacrum had to say.

“For a simulacrum, you ain’t half bad.”

“Is that a compliment, or are you just trying to get along?“ The voice of the red bot was slick with mischief as always, nothing too out of the ordinary.

“I ain’t that nice. You’re gonna need a lot more than that to befriend Mad Maggie.” She responded.

The conversation went on about the match, them going back and forth on how good they did. Compliments were thrown out to each other like bullets, and it had you a little on edge. You could feel your face heat up and your chest tighten with jealousy, but you continued to listen in on their conversation.

“You still owe me for saving your ass out there skinsuit. Don’t think I didn’t forget.”

“Ha! There’d be a bullet in your head before I owe you squat, sim.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge, but it’ll take a lot to beat something like me~.”

You didn’t notice Maggie had walked away, since you were standing there with your arms crossed all irritated. It wasn’t long before you huffed, the frustration clearly escaping from your slightly flared nostrils. The dropship had just landed, it’s insides shaking and buzzing down as it made contact with the ground. It wasn’t long after, that the door whirred open, and legends began strolling out. You could feel like your face was heated, but didn’t bother to make any note of it due to the fact that no one seemed to point it out. Interviews were just a few buildings away as the legends walked and prepared themselves to be presented in front of reporters as well as flashing lights of cameras. You were about to make your way out of the dropship, though you were stopped and pulled to the side by slender mechanical fingers.

“Why such a down face? Red with what, jealousy~?”

Your eyes widened with slight shock, though it made your face glow more red with embarrassment. “How did you know I was listening?” You asked with a small mumble.

“It isn’t hard to hear you with those snorts and angry growls of yours,” Revenant responded with an amused huff. “Even though she didn’t hear them, you gotta remember, I’m not a skin suit like you.”

You still didn’t bother looking at him, your eyes stayed on the ground. Revenant, even though he turned you to face him, still waited for you to say something. When you didn’t he chuckled, and not long after grabbed your jaw.

“I didn’t hear yes or a no. So I’m gonna make a wild guess,” The simulacrum squeeze your cheeks and made you look at him. “You’re jealous of a big bad wolf like me getting praised by someone other than you.”

“No I’m not! I mean..so what if I am? It’s not like you didn’t reject them you ass-“

You were cut off by his fingers tightening, and him taunting you with an “ah ah ah.” As awful as he could be, you still somehow succumbed under his grasp. It made you whine, and not only that but it had you listen without any thoughts bothering you. Damn this bastard.

“If I was still a skin suit I would kiss you instead of this to shut you up.” He said deeply. “Are you still jealous little girl? Because you’re the only one I’m willing to still live for. Remember?”

You shook your head knowing immediately, and he let go of your jaw that he had his firm grip on. You rubbed it slightly, but it didn’t bother you. You were flustered from his comment. Not only that but he has never admitted something like this to you before. Yeah, maybe he glossed over it one or two times, but it was nothing serious.

“Now hurry up. I don’t need anybody eavesdropping on our conversation.”

Revenant had walked past you with a small glance, but you followed behind. You grumbled to yourself because in the end, Revenant was probably right. The two of you already know that both exchange the same feelings for each other. Although, you knew for a damn fact that he probably loved to see you riled up. If he heard you then he definitely kept fueling the fire just to see yo ur reaction. What a bitch. It wasn’t long before you both caught up with the others. You immediately walked across the room to Loba and Kairi, who were waving you over.

“There you are beautiful. What took you so long?” Loba asked with a bit of curiosity.

You blinked a couple of times but responded with, “Revenant just wanted to gloat to me about the match, nothing too serious.”

“Ugh you’re better with keeping the demonios name out of your mouth, he has no business dealing with a wonderful woman like you.”

Kairi giggled when she heard Loba talking to you, coming up from behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey don’t use up all your compliments, you won’t have any more left to give~.” Well that comment was directed towards Loba, she then turned to you and said, “We’re going out to drinks tonight if you wanna join us. Wouldn’t mind having a third person on board.”

You thought about it and didn’t think that there would be a problem since you didn’t have any plans later that day. “I’ll consider it. I don’t have any plans at the moment but you never know, something might come up.” You responded to her with a smile.

“Cool. Hope to see you there princess.”

“Princess?” Loba said with the raise of her brow and a smirk on her face. Kairi smiled wide at that, and smoothly made her way off of you and towards Loba, who had slowly been pulled away by a couple if fans and reporters.

You shrugged your shoulders and turned around, only to be face-to-face with cold metal and a deadly stare. You froze, looking up at the murder bot who seem to be glaring at you from above. “What?” You asked.

“So it’s a game you’re playing?” He said tilting his head to the side.

“What game?” You asked confused, but soon came to realize what he meant.

“Playing stupid huh? Fine, but don’t think you’re going with them tonight. You’re going to have a tough time with me, Princess~.”

#revenant apex #revenant x reader #revenant #apex legends fanfic #apex legends x reader #apex legends #apex revenant

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captain039 · 3 years

Text

Bathe in the hunt

Bloodhound x reader

Warnings: Smut! Fingering, female receiving, oral, light swearing, game gore, semi-public smut. 18+, kinky xD

We don’t spectate in this version xD

You were on edge and watching every move the robot made. Revenant scared you, there wasn’t a doubt about that. You felt sort of safe with Lifeline by your side. She scoffed and waved her shock sticks at him in annoyance. He would snarl anytime she spoke actually anytime one of you spoke.

“Ugh” Lifelines voice came over and you glanced to her. Revenant was towering over her and you let a warning shot off right by his face.

“Go away” you glared even though your heart pounded. He growled and disappeared outside making you sigh in relief.

You frowned though hearing footsteps thanks to your enhanced hearing, you looked behind you but found no source. It also stopped when you looked making you sigh and glare.

“Someone’s behind us-“ you heard an animalistic growl and froze.

“Bloodhounds behind us” you corrected as two other pairs of footsteps joined.

“Very quickly running towards us” you said a little more panicked as you tried to find the hunter. You spotted Wraith and Bangalore but no Bloodhound. Revenant and Lifeline were cornered by the other two. You had a good advantage through the window as you shot at them. That is till a cool blade met your throat. Your back went a little straighter as you gulped looking to the axe.

“Hound” you muttered dropping your gun on the floor. You stood up as they pressed the axe a little closer to your skin. You were backed into them as they hit the wall. You gulped hearing their pants behind the mask, no doubt their eyes glowed red.

“I really-“ they hushed you and you gulped again.

“Vertu kyrr” they said in their mother tongue. This really wasn’t the time to be overheating and have your heart pounding, they really were about to slaughter you. You heard Revenant complain about being downed before he got finished. Lifeline was next as she called for your help, but you couldn’t do anything. Frozen in place, a blade against your throat, legs shaky. Lifeline was gone also and you waited for the end but it never came.

“I will catch up Felagis” they said as you heard Wraith and Bangalore through their comms.

“Why are you not killing me?” You asked as they let their blade fall.

“Hound?!” You added after you were met with silence.

“Please just-“ you froze as their hands wrapped around your waist and they pulled you down. A team was going past, you hadn’t heard them.

“Mate ya hearing things” Fuse sighed.

“I swear it amigo!” Octane fought.

“Bloody hell, it’s all them chemicals ya idiot” Fuse was very much done with Octane as they both left.

You let out a small breath you didn’t know you were holding. But this position made you tense. You had your back against the hunters chest, you had let your legs stretch out in front of you, their hand on your mouth and one arm around your waist. They’re grip loosened and you could finally breathe normally as their hand slipped.

“Hound what’s going on?” You asked softly leaning your head back so you could try and see them. Their grip tightened again

“ég saknaði þín” their voice was quiet but you still didn’t understand their native tongue.

“I still don’t understand you hound” you chuckled softly as a hand gently cupped your throat. You gulped thinking now they were going to choke you to death. Though in the back of your mind your legs tingled and your heart pounded against your chest in anticipation. Your stomach clenched a little and heat moved to where it shouldn’t in this situation.

“I can smell your æsingur” they said and you flushed wondering what the hell æsingur meant.

Their hand snaked past down your stomach and to your waist band. Your cheeks no doubt went bright red as you realised that the situation was in fact happening.

“Hound-“ you said grabbing their hand.

“Where in the middle of a game” you muttered but your grip wasn’t tight, they could easily shake you off.

“And?” They finally spoke in English and your thighs tensed. You let their hand go slowly resting it back on the ground beside you only to find they stretched their leg out.

You gripped the strong flesh when a cool glove met with your heat. Your back arched slightly and you forgot to breath momentarily.

“Anda elskan” they said softly. Their hand that was on your neck had moved to stay around your waist. The other in between your folds feeling up and down. Your legs had moved wider apart by themselves, you leant back against their shoulder as they gathered your natural wetness before sliding a finger in. You hummed slightly mindful to be silent and trying to focus your hearing on any footsteps that may come.

It was hard to focus at the painfully slow pace they were teasing you at. You let out a small whimper not trusting your voice to speak your mind. They snarled softly and you flushed knowing they were in charge here and you did not have any right to tell them what to do.

The leather felt strange but nice inside your walls, they only kept one finger going in and out before stopping. You took a quick breath before they pressed their fingers to your clit and rubbed. Your leg twitched slightly and you flushed at the effect they had on your body. You arched back into them as they gained speed you tried to control your breathing but failed as it came out in short puffs. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you let your hand clench their thigh and the other fist on the floor. The snarled softly again sensing you were close. Your stomach tightened as you let out a small sound as you came. You had held your breath for a while as they rode you out, gently rubbing against your sensitive nub. You panted out loudly remembering to breathe. Your body went to jelly, you let your weight fall onto them and sighed. They hummed gently against you one arm still around you tightly while they other moved from your pants. You saw their glove glistening and blushed looking away.

“Are you ok Elskan?” They said softly and you nodded.

“Definitely- I’m- I’m ok” you said processing what happened. Your cheeks burned and you felt like jelly.

“I need a minute” you mumbled and you heard them chuckle lightly. You smacked their thigh gently a smile creeping across your lips also.

You slowly lifted your top half off Bloodhound and sighed. They shuffled behind you, standing up and offering a hand to you. You looked at the hand, it didn’t glisten thankfully. You grabbed it and let them pull you upwards.

“I must return to my Felagis” they said handing you your gun.

“May you hunt well Elskan” they said and you stopped them. They looked to you through their mask before leaning it against your forehead. You closed your eyes and smiled before they finally left.

You huffed seeing as now you were alone, with no team, thanks to their team. You grumbled softly thinking about payback despite your flush and pounding heart.

#x reader #fanfic #bloodhound x reader #bloodhound apex legends #bloodhound

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dontbethatguy20 · 3 years

Note

I saw requests were open! Bit nervous to ask cause not anonymous but that's okay!! Might make this itty bitty simple buuuuut could I get Octane x female reader? maybe the reader gets worried about him easily and sorta overprotective especially during the games and he finds it adorable? Fluff and angst maybe? Sure hope that makes sense, if it doesn't feel free to pm me or ignore!! Thank you for the opportunity tho I'll love whatever you make!!💕

I love this, it's adorable (:

As we all know octane has a crazy life. But dispite the fact he's never dies, your still get worried about him. With all his stunts you worn him about how dangerous it is and all his response is " don't worry, I got this". You would be persistent because you're worried about him. Sometimes he'll boop your nose, smile, and say "you're adorible when you're worried." And usually you'll sigh in defeat. When he said he was going to the Apex Games you argued otherwise and he just listened because he thought it was adorable how much you worry and care for him.

(I know it's short, but I hope you like it)

#apex x reader #apex legends x reader #octane #octane x reader #apex #legends #apex legends #Apex #Apex Legends

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amourlyns · 2 years

Text

⠀ 「 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 」

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ You haven’t talked in so long, you thought he’d put you in the past by now

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Octavio 〞Octane 〞Silva + fem!reader

✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀Part two of one ➜ masterlist

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ Suggestive commentary Alcohol Vomiting

⠀ ★ ⠀ | ITS BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE YOU’VE seen Octane and yes, you have been counting the days. surprise, surprise! how the hell can he waltz into your life again and ghost you after? God. He’s infuriating

So, instead of texting him back like any normal person would you decided to go clubbing, clubbing at the very club his fans said he would go to actually— you were going to confront this man, whether or not he likes it.

It was odd y’know? the club he decided to show up at was the very same club you met him in, it must’ve been a coincidence— but you couldn’t help but reminisce let’s not for get that reminiscing got you in this predicament in the first place.

You push through crowds of dancing bodies, there’s nothing but weed, drugs and sweat. All of octanes favorite things another thing was you his stem. The air is thick heavy with intoxication, the smell seems to haze your mind. The smell of tequila floods your nostrils— good gods these people could drink. But hey, this is the party scene of Solace in what would you expect?

Time goes by fast— somehow you ended up taking a few shots, because who can say no to such persuasive party goers? one turned to two and two turned to five. By now you were drunk, damn that tequila was strong! A kind fellow lead you towards the couches, urging that you’d take a few moments to rest and collect your thoughts. Words slur but he can tell you mean well as you say 〞 thank you. 〞

You ended up passing out, about four hours passed and it was three fourty two a.m, the party was still going on for some reason and despite this you still haven’t found Octane, and to add on to that your head was pounding. You take a few seconds to close your eyes but the caving of the seat to your side causes you to open them slightly, gazing at the stranger who decided to sit right besides you.

Fuck!

❛ Damn chica, didn’t think you’d still have that party animal in you. What are you even doing here? ❜ something about his loud, obnoxious voice wasn’t mixing too well with your excruciating headache, it’s funny because he gives you some medication for the pain, along with some water. He reads you like a book. All he does is smirk, watching you that same look again from two weeks ago. That adoration

You take the medication, making no intention to talk to the legend, instead you stand up making a b—line to the nearest exit. Octane is still sat down, watching you with a small smirk.. What is he laughing at? Oh— fuck.

You must’ve stood up too fast, the world starts spinning again and you run to the nearest toilet. Thankfully, you still remember the layout of the club like the back of your hand. He follows you, holding back your hair as you vomit. A gloved hand rests against your stomach, drawing soothing circles on heated skin.

You whisper a small thanks, wiping off the remaining residue from the corner of your mouth. A small shiver runs down your spine at the touch, you respond with pushing back the daredevil. A frustrated huff escapes your lips as you gaze at his dopey smile.. why did he mess around with you like this? coming here was a horrible idea!! You should’ve left hours ago—

❛ What’s with the long face? And, that hurt my feelings by the way, I held back your hair!! ❜ Octavio utters, now you feel even dumber and sorta pissed? Why is he such a dumbass? ❛ I came here to find your ass because you wouldn’t answer any of my texts! Who the hell kisses someone like that and just leave like that Octavio—? stop running away from me dammit. ❜

It all just slips out, all those feelings you had bottled up for the past two weeks. His expression softens, brows furrow and lips contort into a pout. Is he sorry?.. He doesn’t say a word when he leads you out the bathroom.

Octane is always on the go, you could hardly keep up with this pace, he’s dodging and weaving party goers and you’re stumbling over your feet! He really was on a mission wasn’t he?..

You ended up at your place, he offered you a ride and you couldn’t find it in you to say no to him Tavi opens the door for you as stumble in, he follows your tail soon after, a firm grip is on your waist. He steadies you to a halt, you’re confused at first— what did he want? But then he holds you, carrying you bridal style to your bed. He lays you down placing a small kiss on your forehead.. just like that one night

❛ Fuck chica.. you know I’m not good with words— so just let me talk for a second ok? Un momento. ❜ you couldn’t even process what he was saying to you, the only thing that caught your attention was the way held you, must’ve been serious about this— And he was you could see it in his expression, the way he searches your face for any displeasure… he was sweet.

❛ I got scared ok?! I didn’t know what to do or say, so I left. it’s what I’m best at aye? What do you think these legs are for bebecita!.. ❜ a pointed look. ❛ Right, right bad joke—sorry not sorry. Mierda, I wasn’t expecting to see you at the party tonight and Che would’ve told me to fix my mistake and talk to so now I’m here. In your bed. Talking to you. I texted you up that night because I missed your face, your voice.. tú eras el paquete completo, mamá. ❜

He felt like this the whole time..? why didn’t he— you’re stopped before you can finish your mental rant. Octavio kisses you, and damn he’s good you almost forgot how good he was you kiss back with the same amount of vigor, this was good right? You both got the happy ending you wanted.

❛ I missed you. ❜

❛ Me too tavi. ❜ now that answered your question.

#「 ★ 」 [𝐌] 𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗬𝗡𝗘 ➜ writes ™#spirithub #x fem!reader #x reader #x female reader #apex legends #apex #apex octane #octane x female reader #apex legends octavio silva #apex octavio silva #octane x reader #octavio silva

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justheretop0st · 2 years

Text

Problem Solver

There she sat at the back of the bar. Sipping her drink and watching the crowd. She’d been a frequent flyer in the bar and knew how to read others. A noncommittal man or women trying to hook up. A closeted man. Sometimes the stray women. Couples who were way to into each other. And sometimes couples who were just toxic.

She tried to stay out of those conflicts, but the better part of her always seemed to step in. Otherwise, she ate and slept and drank in this bar. Waiting for her next call.

Most times, it came to her. She had just ordered another round and was people watching when she noticed a man in a long trench coat enter. He caught the attention of others, but they lost interest as he went straight to the bar.

Just another lost soul looking to drown his worries and depression. But she didn’t see that, no. She saw a man looking for her. So she sat up a little taller in her seat and her feet that were kicked up, fell to the floor.

First impressions were always important.

Once the bartender directed the man to her, her eyes followed him. A rather nervous looking man, but it was a nerve racking thing to be speaking with her.

He simply nodded at her as he took a seat across from her. She returned the favor as she leaned onto the table, waiting for him to give her any information.

Instead, he reached into his coat and held a small tablet. He turned it on and turned it to her. Which was a shadowed figure of another man. What a pain, but not unreasonable. Guess the boss had something big planned.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“No, you’ve got a problem.” How rude of him to assume she’d take his job. He didn’t even tell her how much he’d pay her. Wether she took a job or not was up to the pay. Always.

“No, we do sweetheart. You’ve a problem of leaving behind evidence. While I’ve got a problem with my son. It’s only his little girlfriend. Take care of business, and I’ll not send you off to die.”

She was confused. Evidence? “Surely you’re mistaken old-man. I’ve never done anything wrong.”

“Oh you’re sure about that now?” The screen changed into a recording of her assassinating multiple high profile targets. She’d always done her homework. How had she missed this?

“Oh now you’re interested I’m sure. But don’t worry, I haven’t been stalking you. You just happened to have killed multiple of my, business companions. I always do my homework sweetheart. It’s why I’ve never been betrayed. Now-

My sons girlfriend, She’s been horribly guiding him away from the family business for to long. You know what to do.” With a snap of his fingers, the man sitting indrint of her reached into his coat again and pulled out a small business card. On it had the name of the unfortunate woman. Her eyes widened.

“Your son is-“ A loud slam of a desk or table behind the screen caused her mouth to snap shut.

“Yes. Well, please do make haste with it. Octavio wouldn’t think twice if it happened as a result of his foolish games. Once it’s done, I’ll transfer all I have on you. Goodbye.”

She didn’t have a chance to ask anything else. She just sat there watching the man put the tablet back into his coat and walk away. The bartender came to bring her drink, and knew best to not ask her anything. The card was crumpled in her hand. She knew what she had to do.

Octavio Silva. Octane. No hard feelings. No strings attached. She’s just a problem solver, of the worst kind.

#Apex Legends #Octanes father #octanes grandfather #Torres Silva #Octavio Silva #octane x female girlfriend #assassin!reader #apex

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waywardodysseys · 4 years

Text

Revelation - Oneshot

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings: SMUT, oral receiving (m & f), unprotected sex (wrap it up), violence, blood, cussing

Requested?: Yes from this ask - I have a Javier request reader is DEA but secretly also a cleaner, someone secretly sent down to kill Escobar & his cartel no one knows. She's partnered with Peña & Steve & she ok with violence & everything needed to be done to work there. She's more of a no emotions type & has a fwb relationship with Javi, he eventually wants more. One day she's working on her own & takes a bullet to the shoulder, no big deal for her, she gets it taken care of but hides it. Javi finds out from an informant & storms her apartment where he eventually confesses. She's stunned not good with emotions, but decides to give it a try. NSFW?

Author’s note: enjoy!

~ ~ ~

You knock on Javi’s door. Seconds later Javi’s door opens and you are on him like bark on a tree.

Javi kisses you back just as feverishly and deeply, one hand closes the door behind you.

You’re already fumbling at his button down top and as soon as it’s unbuttoned you fumble at the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Y/N,” Javi pants when he pulls away from your soft mouth.

“Javi,” you’re just as breathless.

Your hands travel up his stomach and chest. Your hands reach his shoulders and push the shirt off him. You bite your lip and moan.

“It’s been a few stress filled days Javi,” you say as you grab his hand and you walk towards his bedroom. “I need release.”

Javi pulls you back to him and wraps his arms around you. His hands travel under your shirt and finds your skin – warm, soft. He lifts it up and over your head.

He leans down and nuzzles your neck as he walks you backwards towards his bedroom. His fingers find your bra, unhooks it and pulls it off you. His hands reach back around and palm your breasts, his thumbs rub your nipples.

“Fuck Javi,” you moan.

Javi pushes you further into his room and up against the bed. He pushes you down onto the mattress then kisses you from your neck, down through the valley between your breasts. He stops to flick each nipple with his tongue.

You moan and arch your back. Your fingers weave through his soft brown hair as he continues traveling down your stomach.

Javi undoes your jeans and pulls them along with your underwear off your body and tosses them aside. He then kneels in front of your legs and opens them. He dips his head and licks your folds.

“Javi,” you moan out as your grab the sheets on the bed.

Javi opens your folds and his tongue finds your clit. He begins circling the sensitive nub with the tongue he knows you enjoy.

You moan loudly and your fingers grasp the sheets tighter. Javi knows his tongue on you will give you your first release of the night.

“Fu—Javi,” you moan out as your orgasm builds inside of you.

Javi keeps his tongue against your clit, moving it faster with each moan he hears escaping from you. He knows you’re close when you run your fingers through his hair.

You thread your fingers through Javi’s hair as your orgasm peaks inside of you. You pull lightly on his hair as your other hand grasps the sheets on the bed.

“Javi,” you moan, “yes.” You hold onto the last syllable of the word.

Fuck, is all you think as the aftershocks of your orgasm roll through your body.

Javi stands and pushes his jeans down, kicks them off to the corner. He kneels on the bed and kisses his way up your stomach and chest. He flicks your nipples with his tongue.

“Need more?” Javi asks.

“Yes,” you say as your hands travel down his back and reach around his front.

Your fingers find his cock. It’s hard, thick. You think about Javi’s cock often. Think about how it feels, how it tastes.

You push Javi onto his back and straddle him. You need his cock inside of your mouth.

You lean down and nip at his neck. Your tongue flicks out and licks his skin.

Javi sucks in a breath, “Y/N.”

You kiss your way down his chest and stomach. When you reach his cock, you place a hand on the base and engulf his cock in one motion. You moan inwardly as your tongue swirls around his cock, sweeping back and forth. You move your head up and down, your tongue swirls around the tip, tasting his pre-cum.

Javi hisses as your mouth engulfs his cock. He uses his hands to brush your Y/H/C hair out of your face. He wants to look at you as you suck him. “Fuck Y/N.”

You look up at Javi with your Y/E/C eyes as you bob your head up and down. Your saliva lathering his cock.

Javi tightens his grip on your hair as his own orgasm builds inside of him. “Fu—mmm—fu—please Y/N!”

You release his cock and kiss your way back up his stomach and chest, straddling him. You reach down and find his cock as he places his hands on your hips.

You sink slowly onto his cock, moaning loudly.

“Fuck,” Javi hisses. He wasn’t one for letting women ride him when it came to sex. He preferred a woman on her hands and knees and him fucking her from behind. But with you, it was different. He enjoyed watching you ride him, enjoyed watching you arch your back and bite your lip as you rolled your hips and rode him.

You roll your hips as you splay your hands on Javi’s chest. “God, Javi.”

He thrusts up into your hot, wet pussy. Enjoying the way your pussy clenches around him tight like a glove. His hands travel up your sides, palm your breasts, his thumbs flick over the buds.

Javi sits up and places his mouth against your neck. Nipping and biting at your skin. His arms wrap around you, holding you close. He keeps his thrusts in sync with the roll of your hips.

“Javi,” you plead as you loop your arms around his neck and your fingers lace through his hair.

Your second orgasm is building inside of you and with Javi’s hard, quick thrusts he’s making your orgasm crest faster.

Javi’s own orgasm is reaching the edge and he needs to kiss you. Javi cups your cheek and brings your mouth down on his. He keeps his fingers in your hair, keeping your head down so your mouths are fused together.

You lick at Javi’s lips and he lets you in. Your tongues dancing together makes your orgasm roll through your body. Your fingers apply pressure to Javi’s skull as you arch your back making you pull away from Javi’s mouth.

“Javi,” you moan lightly as the rolling of your hips slow.

Javi feels your pussy clench against his cock and he thrusts up into your depths once, then twice. He explodes inside of you emptying himself inside of you.

“Y/N,” Javi growls as he captures your mouth with his and cups your cheek.

Mine, is all he thinks as he pulls you back with him and you fall on top of him when he lies back against the bed.

You sigh contently as you nuzzle Javi’s neck and remove yourself from atop his body.

“Release enough for you?” Javi asks as he lights a cigarette.

“Yes,” you say as you sit up against the headboard and watch Javi put on his jeans, covering his fine ass.

You and Peña have been friends with benefits since you arrived in Colombia a couple of years ago. You work with him and Murphy down at the embassy. You’re D.E.A. too but they had no idea you were sent down here to take out Escobar.

You’re a cleaner – someone who takes out special marks. Only the main boss knew the true reason you were here, and she kept it a secret from Peña and Murphy. You were thankful Peña didn’t know why you were truly in Colombia, if he did, who knows how’d he react.

Javi turns and faces you. “Want some dinner?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Javi raises his eyebrows as he puffs on his cigarette. “You sure?”

You get out of the bed. You begin picking up your clothes and putting them back on. “I’m sure Javi. I need to go do a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You reply.

Javi walks around the bed and stops you before you put your bra back on. He cups your cheek, strokes your soft skin. “You should eat something.”

Your taken back by his gesture. Javi was never one for gestures, or insisting you stay for dinner. You aren’t one for gestures either.

Javi and you decided this was going to be a strictly friends with benefits relationship. No strings attached, and surely no dinners. Javi could still fuck who he pleased, and so could you.

You raise your eyebrows and put your t-shirt on. “I’m fine Javi. Thanks, but no.”

“Please, Y/N.” Javi whispers as he drops his hand and inhales his cigarette.

You aren’t going to get involved. “No.”

Javi watches as you walk out of his bedroom, hears quietness then hears the front door open and close. He wanted more with you, needed more. Javi wanted a relationship with you.

Shortly after you two had first screwed each other a couple of times, you agreed to be friends with benefits. Both being there for one another in terms of sexual release. Then as time progressed Javi began to realize he wanted more, needed more. You became the only woman he slept with. The only woman who mattered to him.

-------

Javi watches as Carrillo pulls the trigger and the kid falls to the ground. He’s not sure what to think of the man anymore. Him and Carrillo were, are, after the same person – Escobar. And now he’s resorting to killing children.

Javi finds you at your apartment later the same night.

He takes you roughly from behind, pounding into you quickly and harshly. He pulls you up against him and wraps his arms around you. Fucking you senseless.

“Javi,” you moan.

Javi growls and cums inside of you.

Minutes later you watch him light a cigarette and pull on his jeans.

“What happened?” You ask with a light voice.

He looks at you then inhales on his cigarette. He’s quiet.

“Javi,” your voice moves down an octane. “Tell me.”

“Carrillo shot a kid. Point blank.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“He’s trying to make a point.”

“He’s a fucking monster now Javi.” You’re upset. “You just let him do it?”

“I couldn’t stop him Y/N. He’s on a power trip. He wants Escobar, I want Escobar.”

You’re quiet. Your mind races. You know you need to step up your game. You had to find that sonofabitch before they did.

Javi remains with you for the rest of the night. You don’t mind it; you know he needs another person around.

In the morning you let him have another round of sex, you know he needs it. Knows he needs to release his stress and frustrations the same way you use him to release yours with him through sex.

-------

You watch as Escobar raises his gun and points it at Carrillo.

“Look at me!” Escobar shouts.

Carrillo is spewing up blood as he raises his eyes to look at his killer, to look at the man who’s going to defeat him.

You swallow, holding your position. You hear the gunshot and close your eyes for a brief second. You open them and watch Escobar lower his weapon.

Escobar and his men walk away, leaving Carrillo’s dead body in the middle of carnage and chaos.

You’re thankful Murphy and Peña aren’t here yet you know they will be out for revenge. Mainly Peña, and the Search Bloc. After tonight the game kicks up another notch.

-------

You’re watching from across the street as Escobar, Limón, and La Quica walk into the church. They are meeting Maritza. You recognized her from meeting her with Peña a few days ago. She was the one who gave the info to Javier about being an escape goat for Limón to use her as a passenger when in turn she was helping Limón move Escobar from one place to another.

You approach the side of the church and quietly open a door and walk in.

You hear Escobar’s voice; you see Limón and La Quica.

Escobar hands over a duffel bag. Maritza looks inside. Her eyes swell with tears as Escobar turns and walks away.

“I told you I get you a way out.” Limón says.

“You made me lie,” Maritza cries.

Limón frowns and shrugs, “it was the only way.”

As Limón turns you come from behind your hiding spot. You pull the trigger, shooting towards Limón and Escobar’s retreating figure. Maritza sees your weapon, ducks and runs.

La Quica sees you and pulls his gun. He fires his weapon immediately.

The bullet pierces your shoulder and sends a sting of pain through your body. You feel blood pouring out of your wound as you grasp your shoulder trying to take cover, so you don’t get hit again. More gunfire ensues between you, La Quica and Limón.

“She’s down,” La Quica huffs.

“What makes you say that?” Limón questions.

“I saw her bleed. She won’t last long,” La Quica hiss. “Let’s go!”

You listen as their footsteps recede from the church. You take off your jacket and wrap it around your shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding because it’s flowing out of you nonstop.

You hustle out of the church quickly and into the alleyway, making your way towards one of the hospitals. Deciding to walk because you don’t need a taxi driver asking millions of questions about why you are bleeding.

A nurse walks up to you once you approach the entrance of a nearby hospital. She sees the bloodied jacket, your bloody hands. “Miss?”

“Gun,” you’re breathless, “gunshot wound.”

The nurse rushes you further into the hospital and into the emergency room.

You’re oblivious to the world as the pain finally consumes you, giving into the darkness.

-------

Peña sits at his desk, typing at the typewriter. Murphy’s quiet as he sits across from him. Both men smoking cigarettes, the smoke filling their area. The whole office is somber after the unexpected ambush and Carrillo’s death.

The phone on Peña’s desk rings, breaking through the silence.

“What?” Peña drawls after answering it.

“Hey, it’s me.” Peña’s informant says on the line.

“What?” Peña’s impatient. He doesn’t have time for this, and he hasn’t seen you in days.

“I have info on Y/N.”

Peña stands up, his chair scrapes against the floor. “Tell me now!”

“No. Meet me at our usual place. I’ll tell you there.”

Peña hangs up the phone and grabs his jacket.

“Peña!” Murphy stammers out loudly.

Peña turns around and looks at Murphy. “I’m meeting with an informant.”

“Should I go too?” Murphy asks.

“No. He’ll only talk to me.” Peña retorts.

Murphy frowns and nods. He returns his gaze to the paperwork on his desk.

Both Murphy and Peña have been on edge since Carrillo’s death. Peña especially because he hasn’t seen you since the afternoon before the ambush on Carrillo and the Search Bloc.

“Alright then,” Peña says as he turns and begins to head out.

Peña hops into his car and drives to usual place where he meets with this informant.

Peña walks into the quaint, dark bar. He left his badge in the car, but his gun is tucked into the waistband of his jeans in the back. His eyes rollover the crowd. People are quiet, don’t pay him any attention as he begins weaving his way through the place. He spots his informant and takes a seat.

“Peña.”

“Don Berna.” Peña doesn’t want to waste any time. “Tell me what you know.”

“After the ambush, Y/N went after La Quica and Limón,” Don Berna informs him between bites of food.

“Fuck Berna. I don’t have all night!” Peña hisses.

Don Berna looks over at Peña. “She took a bullet. Kept it to herself.”

Peña is livid. “What the fuck? How do you know?”

“Her and I,” Berna pauses, “are kind of after the same thing. Get rid of Escobar. Like you and the D-E-A.”

Peña doesn’t understand what Berna is implying but grounds out, “you’ve seen her? Recently?” He hasn’t seen you! Yet here sits Don Berna telling Javier he’s seen you.

Why?, Javier’s mind screams.

Berna nods. “I saw her yesterday. She looked, uh, she looked exhausted. Someone ran into her and she cringed in pain and double over. Next, she was bleeding and I had to take her to the hospital,” Berna shrugs, “told me she got shot. She said no one knows.”

Peña pushes himself up from the chair and storms out of the bar. He drives hurriedly, not giving a care in the world, towards your apartment.

He climbs the outside steps and walks into your building. He pounds loudly on the door.

“Y/N!” Peña nearly shouts.

You open your door in a rush, “for fuck’s sake Javier, keep it down!”

Javier storms into your apartment and faces you as you close the door. “Why the fuck didn’t you let me know you got shot!?”

“Because I didn’t need you having the reaction you are having right now in the middle of a hospital!”

“You’re a part of the team Y/N! Wouldn’t you have thought it wise to let us know you got a bullet!?”

“You didn’t need to know Javi. I took care of it! I can handle myself!”

“I care about you!” Javier huffs.

You swallow and look down at the floor. You don’t know what to say. You aren’t good with emotions. It’s why you agreed to be friends with benefits with Javi. You didn’t want, you didn’t need any attachments while you were down here.

You thought you’d get rid of Escobar soon after you arrived, but he kept getting away therefore you had to extend your time in the country. And Javier was the only outlet for your frustrations regarding everything – work, life in general, not getting Escobar sooner.

Javier looks at you. Takes in your crossed arms, your eyes are focused on the floor – not him. “Did you hear me?”

You raise your Y/E/C eyes and look at him. Your voice is but a whisper when you say, “I heard you Javi.”

Javi closes the distance between the two of you. He cups your cheek, strokes your soft skin. “You’ve been the only woman I’ve been sleeping with for months. You are the only woman who matters to me. I’ve wanted something more with you for a long time Y/N.” He pauses. “I know you’ve only wanted the sex. No strings attached, no emotions. But for me, things changed months ago when Escobar was finally in La Catedral and I wanted to focus on me and you, but you still wanted the sex.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me this sooner? Is that why you kept asking me to stay for dinner or breakfast?”

Javi places his lips lightly against yours. He pulls away and brushes his thumb over your lips. “I should’ve told you sooner. And yes, it’s why I asked you to stay for dinner, for breakfast. I wanted to talk to you about things and life – outside of work, outside of the bedroom.”

You look into Javi’s coffee colored eyes. You see the sincerity in the them, the trust in them, the love he has for you in them. Maybe you should take the leap, take the chance.

“I will try Javi. For you I will try.”

Javier smiles and pulls you up against him. He brushes his mouth against yours as his fingers weave through your Y/H/C hair.

You give into his kiss, into him. You begin walking him backwards to your bedroom.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you’d seen him, and you wanted him.

You push Javier’s jacket off him. Your fingers unbutton his shirt then your hands move up his stomach and chest. Your hands reach his shoulders and push the shirt off him.

Javier moans as your hands touch his skin. He’s missed your hands, your mouth. Most importantly he’s missed you.

“Y/N,” Javi whispers.

“Javi,” you whisper back as you reach into his jeans and find his cock hard.

Javi hisses at your hand around his cock. His fingers fumble at his jeans, trying to unbutton and unzip them. He pushes them down over his hips as you kneel on the floor.

You swirl your tongue around the tip and engulf his cock slowly.

“Fu—mmm,” Javi moans as he brushes your hair away from your face and sees you looking up at him. “Fuck, Y/N.”

You moan against his cock as you take him deep into your mouth, his cock hits the back of your throat. You reach up and squeeze his balls.

“Yes,” Javi pants as his orgasm builds inside of him.

You move your head up and down slowly, your tongue swirling around his length as you lather it with your saliva.

You release his cock from your mouth and stand slowly as your hands travel up his stomach and chest.

Javi kicks off his jeans as he reaches for your shirt and takes it off you. He sees the bandage and kisses it. He’s gentle as he takes off your bra, making sure the strap doesn’t graze the bandage and cause you any pain.

He pulls you up against him and wraps an arm around you as he leans down and nuzzles your neck. “Y/N. If you’re ever hurt again, I want to be the first to know.”

You nod as his hands travel slowly down your back.

Javi falls back on the bed, bringing you with him. He slowly kisses you as he pushes you onto your back. He moves his mouth across your jawline, down your neck, over your chest and down your stomach. He stands for a moment and removes your pants. He tosses them aside as he uses a hand to open your legs.

He lowers himself between your legs as his fingers touch your folds lightly.

“Javi, please,” you whisper.

Javi opens your folds and licks his tongue up and finds your clit. His tongue begins circling it slowly then moves it rapidly against your clit.

Your hands grasp the covers under your body as your own orgasm begins building inside of you. You missed Javi and his tongue, his cock. You yearned for Javi on a nearly daily basis since you had begun the friends with benefits situation. And now he was yours.

Your hand reaches for his hair and your orgasm crashes inside of you.

“Javier,” you moan as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm moving through your body.

Javi pulls away from your pussy and kneels between your legs. He strokes his cock against your folds and watches as you bite your lip and arch your back.

“Please Javier,” you whisper. “I missed you.”

Javi smiles down at you and slowly sinks his cock into your tight pussy. “I missed you too Y/N.”

He lets his cock soak in your wetness, your tightness, your warmth. He never wants to let you go. He enjoys how your slick your pussy feels around his hard cock. Yes, he never wants to let you go.

You look up at Javi and reach up to nuzzle his neck. You lick his skin and laugh lightly when he sucks in a breath.

“Y/N,” Javi moans.

“Javier, I do enjoy your cock but I’m not fragile. Fuck me.”

Mine!, Javi thinks as he brushes his mouth against yours and begins thrusting in out of you slowly then picks up the pace.

Your fingers begin digging into his back as your second orgasm begins to build inside of you. You wrap your legs around Javi as you roll your hips up to meet his quick thrusts.

Javier moans as his orgasm builds inside of him again. He fuses his mouth with yours as he thrusts into you and explodes, emptying himself inside of you.

“Y/N,” Javier growls as he cums.

“Javier,” you pant as your own orgasm explodes and sends waves through your body.

Javier thrusts a couple of more times, relishing how your pussy milks his cock as you cum with him inside of you.

He removes his mouth from yours and nuzzles your neck.

Javier’s mustache is sending more pleasurable sensations through your body. You moan and run your fingers up and down Javi’s back, you thread your fingers through his brown hair as you take on his body weight.

“Y/N,” Javier whispers seconds later.

You hum and look into those coffee colored eyes of his.

“We’re no longer friends with benefits. We’re together. It’s you and me.”

You sigh contently, “yes Javier. It’s you and me.”

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @jokersdoll, @knight-of-heart44, @pascalisthepunkest, @mandadl0rian

#revelation oneshot #oneshot #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #anon request #javier peña #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena #smut

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wroteclassicaly · 4 years

Text

Dibs

A/N: Heeeeeeeey, loves! I’m back and pretty proud of this one! It’s a two part story, this obviously being the first part. Smut will be in the next one. I’ve wanted to write this idea since I came up with it the night of the season premiere.

Reader is plus size in this one. She is also Chef Bertie’s daughter. There’s some major self-esteem issues and some self-bashing in this one, so be warned. I hope ya’ll enjoy! Lemme know what you think? :)

P.S. I’ve changed a few things around to fit the reader in. Dialogue, mostly. It’s not that much of a change though, so don’t worry.

Also, I can’t seem to get my taglist to work right, so I don’t tag anyone. I’m sorry. :(

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x Female reader

Word count: 2,691

Warnings: Explicit language, references to smut and virginity, self-esteem issues, poor body image issues

Looking forward to something during the summer months wasn't usually your forte, but this season seemed to be taking drastic approaching turns already. You'd been coerced into coming help your mom work the kitchen of Camp Redwood. Massacres and legends galore, bugs and snakes touring your housing. Sounded so fun to you. Your mom didn't want to leave you at your home alone, so you hesitantly agreed to get away from the dangers in Los Angeles and help out at the camp with her.

The drive up you imagined all sorts of various and vile scenarios. Woods and stories caught your imagination and refused to leave without a searing tongue lashed haunting. Your mom had assured you things would be okay this time around, that she wouldn't let anything happen to you, but it still felt so unsettling to be surrounded by nothing but dirt and trees and a large body of midnight fresh water. For your mom, however, you opted for the positive side of things, and sucked it up. You met with the eccentric and eerie Margaret, hovering closely to any exits you could think about, then escaped to the cabin you would be sharing with your mother to put your things away.

Margaret had informed you and your mom that a group of counselor volunteers would be arriving in the afternoon, leaving your stomach to tumble into the anxiety founded pits it always was. You hated much social interaction, even living in one of the world's largest cities. You avoided leisure activities and parties that were too high octane. You cared only about the peace and quiet, a few close friends, your books, and your music. You were grateful you had been permitted to bring along some albums and your record player, because without it, you could not function.

Setting out your music, you had tasked yourself out to sweep and mop the dining hall and kitchen. Covered in sweat and grime, hair pulled back into a messy mopped bun, the entire area became brand new once more. So much so that you had to stand and admire, the enriching draped melodies from Stevie Wonder casting a serene, echoing production to highlight your hard work. You hadn't noticed until Margaret jabbed a nail into your tank top clad shoulder, causing you to nearly deck her in the face with your broom handle. She raised a manicured brow, annoyance perched on her poker faced features, asking you to come meet the newest additions to the staff, as they would be arriving soon and you still had to bring food into the kitchen pantry.

Reluctantly, you followed your camp leader out into your new life for the next few months.

~*~

Present day: The First Night

Your insides feel as if they have all been twisted together like licorice, coolness spreading through your veins, erecting goosebumps all across your flesh. You self-consciously grip your noticeable stomach, already prepared for an array of flashy and skimpy clothed girls to accompany muscular, tight fitted guys. You don't fit in. Not being more than overweight, but what doctors seemed to call obese, with a swell to your face and the rest of you in places all around your thick form. In this day and age, not many girls your size are praised or celebrated in music and on television.

Sure, there were a few, but the movies you have seen are the overweight girl being an extra, a classmate, the bestfriend, the loner, the reject, or the propping joke. Fat is funny in LA, you aren't stupid. And no matter how far you run from it, you'd have to face scrutiny, even here. Your thinking is pregnant with triplets on this one, as you don't even bat a blink walking out with the Carrie White's mother - Margaret White -esque Camp owner, to meet everyone. Worn sneakers and boots from different brand names dusted in California soil is what you see before meeting the eyes of a very petite brunette.

That's the first counselor that smacks your self-esteem straight into the pits of hell. And the blonde girl near her in the colorful and tight outfit? Yeah, you want to find a hole and dig it twelve feet under. Six feet for your humiliation, adding on an additional six for your fat ass body. You want to run, but, yeah, right.

If you don't speak then you will look stupid, more so than you do now, covered in perspiration and dirt smudges. Margaret makes an introduction that collides right into you stepping behind your mom, getting an eyeful of the two handsome guys with the girls, reaching for a crate of eggs, attempting to look busy as to bay the awkward pause. Everyone says a few brisk words of greeting, those male counselors snickering. Why did you come here? The risks back home are far more tempting right about now.

Your nose catches the scent first, the sound of the person's shoes hitting ground second. Clad in this overly musky scent that seems to glide itself across the air, a rapturous, creamy silk-like voice hits the atmosphere and flips you head over ass.

"Dibs."

Your mom is snapping back with her wit, shoving her crate into his hands and moving away from his speechless face to leave you visible. Standing still, your box seemingly heavy, body light, you can't but help yourself to a heaping serving of observation. His pants are tan, or white, belt tightly securing those defined hips, his sneakers stretched over long feet (don't they say long feet mean... okay then, holy fuck), and sea-foam green muscle tank that leaves nothing to the imagination, except how much leverage you'd have to straddle his chest...

"And this is Y/N. She's joining us with her mother, whom is Chef Bertie. She won't be bunking with the ladies, however. But I still expect of all you to get along and make her feel apart of things, as she will also be partaking in counselor duties for the summer." Margaret's voice interjects, right smack into your looking into this guy's angelically crafted face.

You can't see what color his eyes are over his designer frames, just blue hued glimpses reflected off California sunshine. His plump lips are wet with amusement and surprise at your reveal, jaw sharp and alert, so arching and shaped it can cut through glass. There's a small cross dangling from his left ear, his hair is frosted at the top. He looks like some guitarist that has actual angel wings. His arms are steady, hands big.

You can swear there's a saxophone player somewhere playing a soundtrack for this very moment. You kind of, no, record SCRATCH that, you definitely need to find a seat somewhere and pour a glass of ice water over your head. For a fleeting moment you think you might need to attempt Olympic running towards the infirmary, cause this is some sort of General Hospital soap opera scene. You can't stop yourself from how you do react though. Biting your upper lip, eyes dashing mad all across his body, you're engulfed in more than the summer California heat.

You see the metal of his silver cross earring catch the light, and you know that even God himself can't help you now. Looking at this man in the blue shirt, you feel as if you've committed a lifetime of the most blood deep sins. You feel the need to ask Margaret to save you in the lake, some prayer needing to happen before you feel anymore guilt for objectifying this stranger. What feels like never-ending hours is merely a minute at most, making you look even more awkward and ignorant. Margaret does save you this time, introducing each counselor, the sensual blue eyed boy called Xavier Plympton, to your amusement, then with a seemingly arrogant grin on her peach painted lips, demands you take Xavier and the other two attractive male counselors - Ray and Chet, to finish carrying the crates of fruit and eggs to the kitchen pantry.

A dying 'hi' towards the friendly faces of the group is all you muster, rolling a shoulder back to the truck for the boys to take the hint. Xavier already has his share from what your mom gave him, so it's quick work for the other two. You don't talk, don't look at any of them on the way into the large dining area and back into the kitchen where your mom is hard at work. All the guys pile beside you, so you figure that now is the time to find your damn voice box and activate its fucking switch.

"You can just leave the stuff here, guys. Some of the other staff is in charge of stocking it anyways. They're real particular on everything, you know? We appreciate your help!" You ramble on, eyes widening when you spot Xavier - shades now clipped to his collar - smirking at you, pearly whites gleaming tauntingly.

Everyone, yourself included, all discard your food onto the chipped wooden counter. You fold your hands into fists on its hard surface, knuckles pressing together, lips pinched tight, feeling this tickle attack you from the tips of your toes and back, leaving you absolutely parched and winded both.

"So you're the Chef's daughter, huh?" Ray is the first to speak to you.

You turn to his direction to see him leaning a few feet beside you, propped against the end of the countertop by his elbow. His smile is genuine, calm, excited even.

He must really have wanted to be here this summer.

"Yeah." Is your proud response. Your mom is a hard worker with a zero tolerance policy for bullshit or dumbasses, so you're very proud to call yourself her child.

"Kind of a given you'd be here with her, right? That's cool. Most kids wouldn't volunteer their time to help their Mama at some sweaty ass camp in the middle of nowhere. You even gettin' anything in return from this?" Ray questions again.

Your body warms a little, not used to this duration of a conversation, let alone by someone this cute, this cool, who seems nice enough. You find yourself softening towards his presence, friendly and open in your answers.

"She'll share whatever she makes with me, so it's a win win. I have to clean the camp, so I'll also pull in my own money, then we put it all together. Living in LA is fucking expensive."

"Wait-" Chet cuts in. "You still live with your mom? Aren't you in your twenties or some shit? Don't you have any plans back home?"

Yup, there it is.

You were expecting some sort of snide commentary from at least someone in this group. You're unsure how to answer. It's not that your lifestyle is something you're ashamed of, it's just that you're beyond sick and tired at the ridicule it brings. Your mood is deflated, head bowing a little at Chet's laughter. Maybe it's not malicious, but to you, it isn't funny either.

"At least she didn't blow a chunk of cash on condoms and cheap ass cologne to impress Brooke. No one likes a cocky counselor, Chet." Sounds to your left.

Ray snorts into his hand, easing back at Xavier's biting remark. Your jaw becomes unhinged with a loud giggle that makes Xavier lick his tongue across the top edge of his teeth. He's super focused on you, sharing this knowing that eases and unsettles you all at once. Ray and Chet begin a bicker at Chet's expense, Xavier continuing to watch you in a similar fashion as you were observing him earlier. The floor feels like lava under your feet, your legs jello.

"Better get back outside, kids. Boss lady will be getting impatient." Your mom's helper speaks to you from the kitchen.

You give him a nod, trance broken. Moving one foot in front of the other is hard, but you get it right, breezing past Xavier and the rest, right back into the summer heat wave.

~*~

After the conversation your mom directed over her history with this Camp and her current decision to return, Margaret invited you to tour the grounds again with everyone else after formal introductions were completed. You weren't going to disagree, not with the possibility of sneaking looks in Xavier's way, hearing the things that came from his perfect mouth. You're fucking sickening, like some dingbat ditz on a sugar high that's having an affair with lust. The whole tour was boring and subpar, but worth it to see Xavier in action. Margaret stops everyone outside the cabin with, in your opinion, the finest views, to preach her rules onto everyone.

You're cringing, already choking on heaps of unshed laughter and snorts. Everyone but Brooke seems to be amused. Brooke seems the most like you, so it's a comfort. Xavier has his debate locked and gone, metaphoric smoke trailing behind of his tongue, following his words like a steaming mug of honey-hot tea. After his fist bump with Ray he makes sure to give a nodding little grin your way.

A bashful smile colors your mouth.

"Y/N is true to her pure body, to herself, to the Lord. She hasn't polluted it with the perversions of today, have you, sweetheart?" Margaret's voice is that bucket of ice water you could've used earlier.

You have to grab onto the other side of the doorway to keep it together, your heartbeat in your throat. How in the fuck does she know what you do, or for that damned matter, if you've done anyone before? The entirety of everyone's attention is on you now. Your eyes are sharp on Margaret's, her joy apparent. You see right through her bullshit.

She can read people, and she's just used that to her very public advantage.

Whatever. Fuck her.

"I don't know how you’d know about my personal life, or why it matters towards the situation of a damned summer camp, Miss Booth." You snap, cheeks hot with anger, neck flushed with adrenaline.

Her head twitches as if she's some robotic experiment in a lab, but she catches herself, a plastered on smile melting back into place. "Damned is the farthest thing from the grounds on which this Camp sits, Y/N. And as for your earlier inquiry? I have known your mother for half of my adult life, so that means I also know you."

You're in place, still stunned. How does knowing your mom have anything to do with Margaret knowing you're a virgin? It's not something your mom would broadcast to anyone. Luckily, it's a dropped topic. You're given looks you expect, especially by Chet and Montana. Ray and Brooke, who stops to turn around and give a compassionate smile, are the more sympathetic and understanding.

That leaves... him. You're petrified to turn and see his cliché reaction. He doesn't say anything, not at first, only moving past you. But when stops, a partial pivot, there's an almost relieved expression on his face. The breeze picks up a little, making you brush a lock of escaped hair from your messy style.

The grass and dirt crunches under his weight as he approaches you, stopping a decent distance. You can't breathe, can't comprehend anything out of this shared airspace. The wind has the little cross swaying against his lobe, his lips are plump, the blue in his eyes darkening to the shadows of the summer shade. There's rain on the air. It's going to rain tonight.

"You know I teach at an exercise studio in Los Angeles, Y/N? I'm good at helping people learn."

So he's baiting me to come to his gym with my fat body? Prolong the shame?

You want to further scold yourself for thinking he'd be anything but a shallow Hollywood hottie. Typical.

Before the tears even make themselves form, Xavier is moving closer. You don't stop him, don't take the out his slow and respectful pace is giving you. He's tilting in a little more so that wisp of frosted hair brushes your nose, his breath warm and minty.

"A virgin, huh? I guess it works out that I'm a teacher."

#xavier plympton #xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton x you #ahs fanfiction #ahs fic #xavier plympton fic #xavier plympton fanfiction #ahs #ahsfx #american horror story #ahs9 #ahs: 1984 #ahs 1984 #kristenwrites #ahs 1984 fanfic #ahs 1984 fanfiction #american horror story fanfiction

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no-thoughts-only-apex · 4 years

Text

Basic stuff YOU need to know!

Hey! I'm Blue and I run this blog! I'm now an adult! Yay! I have a job, so requests might be a little bit slow! My pronouns are they/them!

Some stuff about me!

My favourite characters to play are Lifeline, Wattson, and Mirage!

Lore wise, my favourite characters are Mirage, Revenant and Octane!

My favourite colour is gold

I'm learning how to draw!! Rip my skateboarding dreams

I love flowers and will talk about them for hours!!

My favourite band is TV girl right now!

Here's some of my rules and requesting info!

If you don't say the reader is male/female, I'll default to they/them pronouns or try to make it as ambiguous as possible!

I'll write for any character with (nearly) any headcanon for them as long as it's inappropriate! Characters can be a super big comfort to people, and I'm in no place to judge anyone about it!

Please don't start discourse on my posts about it!

I do headcanons, drabbles or short fics! I'll default to headcanons if left unspecified!

I won't do caustic x any of the legends! It makes me uncomfortable because of the larger age gap, but I am 100% okay with doing platonic headcanons of him and the legends, or caustic x reader stuff! While the large gap makes me uncomfortable, I don't hate anyone who ships caustic with anyone! If that makes you uncomfortable in anyway, you can leave!

I also won't do Loba x Revenant!

Nsfw requests are now accepted!! Minors dni with those posts!!

Please don't interact with this blog if you're pro-ship, a transcum/transmed/any variation, pro-map/nomap/any variation, ddlg/any variation, anti BLM, or any of the usual criteria! If I'm missing something important, please let me know!

I think that's all i have to say! Happy requesting! :D

#rules #blue blabs

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shortythescreen · 4 years

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come over chapter 2: the invitation.

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, fem reader, dysfunctional family dynamics, semi public sex.

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.

Summary: Octavio’s family is having an event for their donors. He’d really rather not go but you’d make it a lot more bearable.

Author’s Notes: I LLIIIIIVEEEEEEE. It took forever to get here y’all but here it is! Part 2 of Come Over! It was originally like, 10k words so I split it into two. Which means Part 3 is already written and I’ll just wait to see how this does before I put it out.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

Octavio doesn’t avoid his family.

He doesn’t! He really doesn’t. Seven chances out of ten, he picks up the phone when his mama calls, and if he doesn’t it’s probably because he’s in the arena. Or out. Whatever.

He’s sent his papa text messages during every major holiday he isn’t there for. Not that he isn’t there for a lot of them! He’s hasn’t missed El Dia de los Reyes in. Ever. Even if he didn’t show up for his parents’ New Year’s Eve party days prior. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, he’s just a busy guy. Busy guys don’t have time to go to every social event their billionaire parents host.

That’s what he’s trying to tell his mama.

“Mami, I’m busy with the games-” he tries, pressing his fingers to his temples, for once grateful that his mama doesn’t know how to operate the video camera function on her tablet. Otherwise, she’d see the twist of his lip as he speaks. He kinda thinks she might still be able to hear it, considering Elliot is skirting him as he walks through the common room, trying to distance himself from the hostility in his voice.

“Octavio, ya.” She bites and the tone of her voice seals his lips shut. Fuck. How’s that even fair? “The next game isn’t until Monday. You can be back on planet by Sunday night if you leave tomorrow.”

“Ma, I can’t,” Octavio tries, but his mama cuts him off.

“Yes, you can! Octavio Jose, you use Silva Pharmaceuticals for the games. This party is to celebrate all the donors that give us the resources to create the stim you use. You will come to this party, shake hands, jump hoops and do whatever these people want, or we will revoke your supply. Do you understand me?”

Octavio’s nostrils flare, his leg jiggling as he pushes his teeth against his tongue piercing. The stretch of metal against his muscle is half painful, but he ignores the ache in favor of clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Do you hear me-”

“Yes, ma, I’ll be there, bye.” And with that, Octavio taps the pad in front of him, effectively ending the call. He’ll get some messages later about hanging up on her, but he doesn’t care. All he wants to do right now is put his head through the fucking table next to the tablet.

“That, uh, sounded pretty heated,” Elliot says and Octavio snorts, turning pinched green eyes up to his fellow legend. He’s holding out a water bottle, clutching another in his opposite hand, and Octavio snatches it from his hand, not even bothering to grumble a thank you as he guzzles half of it. “Whoa! Easy!”

“I have to go to a party this weekend,” Octavio bites, ignoring the way that Elliot’s lips stitch shut, like his did when mama told him ya. Elliot hums, sipping more cautiously at his own water.

“Wow, what a predac- p-perdim- that kinda sounds like a dumb reason to be upset,” Elliot drops the sarcasm as he fumbles over the word and Octavio barks a laugh.

“Compadre, I wish it was,” he grits, pressing the flat of his palm against his still jiggling knee. It keeps moving. “My parents are hosting some stupid thank you donor thing.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad,” Elliot says, hopping over the edge of the couch to settle beside Octavio. He throws his boots up, resting them on the coffee table in front of him, the slide of the front door accompanied by some more footfalls. “You’ve thanked Silva Pharm on camera before.”

“It’s not the same,” Octavio grunts. Donors lived for Octane. They lived for his thrill seeking and heart stopping shows. They loved his tattoo and his catch phrases and wanted him to keep it up.

His parents didn’t want Octane. They wanted Octavio. And not even the real Octavio – the one they’d always wanted him to be. The one who was content being a dutiful son. The one who didn’t blow off his own legs with a grenade. The one who didn’t renounce his position as the heir to Silva Pharm.

“My mom said she’ll revoke my supply of stim if I don’t go,” he tells Elliot, who sucks in air through his teeth.

“Ooh, yikes. Guess you don’t have a choice, huh?” Elliot says. Octavio grimaces, now sipping at his water, hand still trying to placate his jittering leg.

“No he don’t. He knew that when his mama called,” a voice says and Octavio glances over, catching Ajay at the fridge on the edge of the common room. She’s pulled out a flavorless yogurt and busies herself scraping it into a bowl.

Ajay has been talking to him little by little, but they haven’t talked about the- incident. Of him lying. He lied to her. He regrets it most days. Right now, he really does, because he could really use her advice.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad!” Elliot says and Octavio sniffs, looking down at the coffee table to avoid Ajay’s eyes as she flops onto the couch across from them. She, too, kick her feet up onto the coffee table, slouching into the cushions.

“Maybe,” Octavio says, not moping into his water.

Silence passes between the three long enough for it to begin to feel stiff. Ajay breaks it with a loud sigh, and his eyes turn up, finding her staring at him.

“What?” He asks.

“Do ya parents still need a photographer?” She asks instead of answering him. Octavio blanches, sitting upright, and his leg stops in its insistent shaking, the click of his metal foot ceasing abruptly.

“What?” He asks again and Ajay blusters her lips, stuffing a spoonful of yogurt between her cheeks.

“Ya parents never let you bring a plus one ‘cause you always bring some so’n’so,” Ajay says and before Octavio protests, she continues, “shut up, yes ya do. If they still need a photographer, bring ours. She’s ya friend, right? She’ll make it more bearable, and she’s official, so ya parents won’t say nutin’.”

Octavio swallows, holding Ajay’s stare. She always seems so critical – like she knows what he’s thinking even when he doesn’t think he’s thinking at all. He wonders if she can tell how he’s been around you recently – if she’s noticed how you show up at his house late at night.

“Plus, she’s totally hot,” Elliot remarks and Octavio bristles and, oh yeah, Ajay notices. Her face remains neutral, but she thumps her foot against Elliot, who whines as the coffee table rattles beneath them.

“I’ll think about it,” he mutters, turning back to his water.

-----

It’s probably a bad idea for Octavio to invite you to his parents’ party.

After his… realization, he’s sort of been avoiding you. Not directly because Octavio doesn’t directly avoid- anything, really. He doesn’t avoid things. He’s not avoiding you. You guys just haven’t had sex since he said te amo into your throat. That’s all.

He’s not totally avoiding you, though. He still sends you shitty memes and you still tell him to let you work. He even brought you lunch the other day because your dumbass forgets to eat. Which is why he’s carrying over some empanadas to your studio.

Apex spared no expense for someone who was going to be key to their marketing. Your studio has vaulted ceilings and the pristine, white walls and tarps are constantly lit by either the natural light of the sun or the way too tall studio lights.

You seem concerned with neither, hunched in front of the triple monitors posed in front of your shooting area. He’s pretty sure that’s a picture of Bloodhound you’re editing.

“Hey,” he says, and you jump, your rolling chair skittering back as you dazedly blink up. Your eyes pinch as you squint, clearly perturbed from looking away from the screen after however long you’d been staring.

“Jesus! Fucking say something next time, Oc, you scared me!” You say and Octavio snickers, lips curling into a devious grin against his will.

“C’mon, amiga, you should’ve heard me coming,” he says, tapping his metal foot on the black tile. You huff, turning back to your computer.

“Shut up. What do you want?” You ask, leaning a little closer to the screen, despite having already zoomed in pretty damn far on Artur. Octavio grabs the chair at your left that you usually reserve for when your bosses come to visit, then flops down. The wheels careen him a little away, but he grabs the edge of your desk and pulls himself up.

“You need to eat, muchacha,” he says, holding up the brown paper bag. You purse your lips, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, you take the bag from him, then move away from your computer.

You lean back in your seat, kicking your legs up onto his lap. Instinctively, Octavio reaches down, grabbing the edges of your feet to keep them in place on his thighs. He thumbs at the edge of your shoe and his nostrils flare. Damn it.

“Thanks,” you say, the crinkle of the bag the only sound for a little. Octavio rests an elbow on the edge of your desk, turning to look at what you’d been doing to Artur. He can see your notes at the top of the screen, scrawled with some digital pen: no alterations to the bird – it would be disrespectful to Houn-

“What’s the matter with you?” You ask, startling Octavio out of his reading. He turns his head to face you, your cheek bulged as you chew.

“What do you mean what’s the matter with me?” He asks back and you roll your eyes, swallowing hard.

“You’re never this quiet,” you say and Octavio huffs, turning to face the screen once again, his leg beginning to bounce in anticipation.

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, stop moving.”

“I’m not a fucking—a fucking—joda, what’s that word?”

“What word?”

“You know, for the- for the thing. When you put your feet up. Reposapíes.”

“What, like an ottoman?”

“No, fuck. I mean, yes, but that’s not the word I was thinking of.”

“A footrest?”

“Eso! Yes! Fuck you, I’m not a footrest.”

You press your lips together and silence passes between you for a moment. Then you snort, shoulders folding in. You raise your brows at him, and he sighs, chuckling through a groan, leaning back in his own seat to drag his hand down his face.

“Kinda lost steam there,” you say, and he squeezes the tips of your toes, half in warning, and you giggle. Your expression softens and you nudge his stomach with the toe of your shoe, tickling at the edge of where a sensor exists in his abdomen. “C’mon, Oc, what’s going on? You can talk to me…”

He knows he can. Octavio has vented to you about lots of things before. He’s vented to you about Anita, back before she started to cut him a little bit of slack. He’s vented to you about his phantom pains, on the days that he wakes up and forgets that he doesn’t really have legs anymore. He’s even vented to you about his parents before – about how his father has never quite accepted the man he’s become and how his mom is like an ice sculpture. Beautiful from a distance, but cold, and quick to melt under heat.

Still, with the… incident, he’s hesitant. He feels like he’s digging himself a deeper hole than he should. But he’s here. On Ajay’s advice. Ajay’s always known what’s best, in a way. At least, it seems that way.

“I have to go to some stupid donor function for Silva Pharmaceuticals or my parents are gonna revoke my stim,” Octavio blurts and he sees your expression soften a little, the edges of your brows drooping, your lips half pursing, and he hates, hates the loud LUBB-DUPP in his ears.

“That fucking sucks,” you tell him and he half snorts.

“Si, I know… But you would make it less sucky,” he says, “you… wanna come? I always have a plus one but my ma doesn’t like when I bring just anybody.”

“And your fuck buddy isn’t just anybody?” You deadpan, raising a brow, and Octavio hums, tugging at the toe of your shoe on his lap.

“You’re a professional photographer,” he reminds you. “It would only be for a night. Less than twelve hours. Fourteen if you include ride time to Psamathe.”

“Oh, Oc…”

“Mami, please? Please. My parents would pay you for the shots. There’s gonna be tons of booze.” He tries.

“Octavio-”

“You don’t even have to talk to anyone but me!” He insists.

“Oc-”

“I hate these things. We can get a hotel right after and you can ride my face right up until I have to be back for the game-”

“Yes! Yes, Octavio!” You cry, reaching over and grabbing his shoulders, your body bending awkwardly, tummy crinkling the empanada bag in your lap. You shake him a little. “Yes, I will come with you, Jesus Christ. I was gonna say yes to begin with!”

“Why didn’t you just come out and say that then?” He huffs, though the tension drains out of his shoulders and he smiles at you, lips pulling up further at one corner. His chest expands with breath, like a weight has been lifted.

“I was trying but you don’t shut the fuck up.” You mutter, shoving his shoulders and he throws his head back, laughing into the vaulted ceiling of your studio.

-----

The week comes and goes within the blink of an eye and Octavio is… Definitely not ready to go to this stupid event. He’s texted you a little more throughout the week, telling you the kind of attire that’s expected at these dumb functions and reminding you that you don’t have to bring any crazy equipment with you.

He calls mama at the last minute, of course, telling her that he’s bringing on a photographer who expects to be paid in full for her services. She’s huffy about it but mostly seems glad someone will be capturing the event from the perspective of the Silva family – though why she kept his pa’s name after the divorce, he’ll never know. Anyway, it’s not like they can’t afford to pay you.

Octavio wears the black tie he knows his mama will hound him not for wearing but he refuses to put the blazer on. Instead, he’ll just carry it, black fabric hanging off his forearm. The sleeves of his white button up are rolled up to his elbows and even though mama could make a big stink, he’d remind her he could have showed up in what he wore in the games – including the Jade Tiger outfit.

It might have been a little too intimate to pick you up. The thought of knocking on your door at an appropriate hour, of being in his monkey suit and offering you his arm, made this feel more like it was a date and not just a favor. Instead, Octavio ordered you a cab and now, he’s waiting for you just outside the entrance of Ship’s Landing.

He’s tapping away on his phone, playing a racing game that he’s definitely going to beat Makoa’s score in. His tongue pokes out and he leans a little closer, glancing up only when he hears the whistle of vehicles going by, hoping to catch sight of your cab.

It’s in the middle of a jump that requires all his attention, a taxi stops right in front of him and the door opens. Octavio glances up, looking back down at his game, only to stop and look back up again, this time lowering his phone to get a better look.

His heart must be running a relay, must be trying to get a lead with a grenade, because the second he sees you, all he can hear is that loud noise again. Like an explosion of movement through his arteries and veins, his heart desperately trying to pick up with the adrenaline in his system. For once, it isn’t a fight, or an explosion, or a race that causes it, though. It’s you.

It’s you, struggling to get some huge camera tote out of the taxi while in high heels (he told you that you just had to bring a camera, damn it). It’s you, wearing a shade of vermillion that matches the fabric of your dress that hugs your figure. It’s you, with the off the shoulder, sweetheart neckline, and Octavio is surprised he can still recall anything about fashion. He’s kind of kicking himself for it too, because he can’t stop thinking of how much of a sweetheart that cut is, how easy it would be to slide it down your chest.

Octavio’s chest constricts, pupils blown wide as he imagines those heels digging into his ass as he fucks you, the sharp pinch of them spurring him faster, harder. It would be so easy to push you back into the cab, pay the driver a little extra to keep quiet while he shucks the dress up to your hips and sucks on your clit until you’re crying.

You guys should skip this. As a matter of fact, he should pay the cab driver to take you guys home so he can rip that dress off you. So, he doesn’t have to see you glide around in it, taking pictures, laughing and holding glasses of chardonnay at some stupid promotional party he doesn’t give a flying fuck about it.

“Oc?” Your voice snaps him from his reverie and Octavio realizes you’re staring at him, lips pursed, half waving to get his attention. “Can you shut the door?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathes, moving forward to shut the cab door. “You… look really good.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, smirking his way, and the rare little dance of mischief that glitters in your eyes makes his heart constrict. Fuck, he’s in so much trouble. This was a bad idea. Why did Ajay tell him to do this?

“We should skip this thing,” he tells you, waggling his brows, and you purse your lips at him.

“And get your stim revoked?” Right. He’d forgotten. Which is saying something, a voice in his head that sounds very much like Che says. He bats her away.

“Shut up, I know,” he mumbles and you two walk towards the ship his mama had ordered to take you to Psamathe. It has the Silva Pharmaceuticals logo on the side and he waves away the driver who stands with his arms folded at the passenger doors.

Octavio opens the trunk, taking your camera tote and laying it down in the backseat. You fuss at him, telling him that you can hold it in your lap and that this extravagant looking ship definitely has the space for you to hold your camera. He waves you off, telling you that you’re going to be in the ship for two hours, and you don’t need to be holding the bag in your lap the whole time.

After that, you two set off, towards his home planet. The ship his ma ordered is, of course, top of the line. The interior is plush, and over cushioned, with a tiny little bar on the opposite side of the long seats. You gaze around in wonder, squinting at the compartment at the top of the ship that he knows contains a disco ball.

“Jeez, your family pulled out all the stops, huh?” You ask and he snorts, scooting towards the edge of the seat and grabbing a bottle of Aguardiente his knows his pa keeps stashed for when he has to ride with ma to events.

“Gotta show up in style,” he mumbles, grabbing one of the little cups stacked on top of a fancy looking cupholder. “Would look bad if I came in just a cab.”

He feels your gaze burning on the side of his face and he holds out the first glass of liquor to you. When he looks in your direction, you shake your head, and Octavio shrugs, taking the first shot with a loud ‘aa’ sound afterwards and a little clench of his teeth. Coño, that shit’s strong.

“You’re really stressed about this,” you conclude, and Octavio turns to look at you again. Your hands rest idly in your lap and your eyes seem to look right through him, finding all the little weak spots, the little internal ticks that made him say that stupid thing into your neck.

“I am,” he says, “you can help me de-stress, if you want, chica.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, masking his discomfort at how easily you read him with a little laugh. To Octavio’s surprise, you reach over, placing a hand on his thigh, and his eyes meet yours with dark intent.

“Yeah,” you say, then lean in, and kiss him. His heart constricts in his chest and he hate, hate, hates Ajay right now.

At the same time, he loves her. Thinks that he should thank her, should apologize and thank her, because you’re kissing him slowly, lips warming him with every gentle slide. Your chin tucks a little closer to your chest as you bow your head, just enough to catch his lower lip between his teeth. He sighs, squirming at the gentle scrape, the distracting buzz of your hand creeping closer to the space between his thighs.

“If we fuck, can you manage not to get cum on this dress?” You ask him as you pull away and his dick throbs at the thought of fucking you.

“Absolutamente, mami,” he mutters, hands creeping out to grab at your hips. He wants to pull you on top of him, pull whatever panties you’re wearing to the side. Watch his dick disappear inside you. Watch you throw your head back while he pulls down that sweetheart neckline-

“I don’t believe that,” you grumble but you’re pushing him down onto the long seat. Octavio lands with a thump and he’s kind of thankful he doesn’t have much hair. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, watching you make your way down his body. You don’t stop to place gentle kisses on his stomach, or any of that other fluffy bullshit that makes his stomach flutter, and he’s grateful and disappointed all at the same time.

You wrangle his belt open, the button of his pants and his fly following. You only scoot his waistband down enough to reveal his boxer briefs and the choked off sound that leaves him as you fenagle his dick out of the small gap in them is embarrassing.

“Shit, mami, you don’t have to, we can wait,” he says, even though his fingers are already tangling in your hair. Impatient. You smirk up at him.

“I don’t think you can,” you reply, before you drag your tongue up the underside of him. He gasps, like the air has been punched from his lungs, hypersensitive from weeks of having not been touched. You let saliva pool in your mouth, then stick your tongue out, watching it drip down. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva, and a dark spot forms at the base where he’s poking out of his boxer-briefs.

“Baby,” he whines and now his hand has tightened, trying desperately to push you where he wants you. Your licks and kisses are good, but not enough, not for how hard he is, for how he wants to fuck into your throat.

You only smirk, dragging the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head. His hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a little groan. Octavio is always so vocal, so willing to tell you what he wants and what he doesn’t. Right now, what he wants is for you to take it, suck his dick until his eyes cross and he cums down your throat.

“I’m working on it,” you reply, and he definitely hadn’t realized he said that out loud. Oh well. You finally, finally, gracias a Dios, take the tip of him into your mouth. You place your puckered lips over the very tip, tongue poking the salty slit, and Octavio’s mouth falls open. Yours does a moment later and your cheeks hollow as you make your down the length of him.

“Puuuutamadre! Baby! Fuck!” Octavio gasps and he’s thankful to be riding in such a large ship because he’s certain if he kept it up, the driver would definitely know what was going on. He also kind of doesn’t give a fuck, hips trembling with the effort to not fuck your throat. You bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of him, and fuck, your eyes are closed, like you’re enjoying this.

You have the audacity, in all of this, to drag the tip of your finger around the base of him. He’s so close to being fully buried inside you. You push yourself, making wet noises that go straight to his dick as your lips finally touch the opening of his underwear. Then, the tip of your wet finger prods his rosebud, and that’s all it takes for Octavio to cum.

Toe curling, jaw dropping orgasm. That’s all he can think of when you finally get him to cum, the mere tease of your finger inside somewhere so intimate making his thighs clench. He shudders out, fist clenched tightly in your hair, trying to keep you down and still respect if you need to come up for air, but, coño, do you make it hard to keep that split train of thought going. He feels you swallow, throat folding around his cock, and the motion itself makes him whimper, for once overstimmed.

You slowly pull away, lips swollen and wet and red, sitting back on your knees with a shit eating grin. Octavio is catching his breath, trying desperately to slow his racing heart which, for once, isn’t caused by stim stabbed into his thigh. You gently massage his thighs and, Jesus, he really wishes you wouldn’t do shit like that.

“You good?” You murmur and the husky edge of your voice makes his spine tingle. He nods, slowing his breath to normal.

“I forgot how good you are at giving head,” he tells you and you snort as he looks around. When he doesn’t spy a handtowel, or something that isn’t a napkin that won’t stick to his dick, he gives up, tucking it away with your drool still on it. He adjusts his fly, slowly sitting up, muscles more relaxed than they’ve been in the week since he’d gotten that phone call.

“I expect you to return the favor on the flight home,” you say and he grins, for the moment distracted from the impending doom of his parents.

#apex legends #octane/reader #octane x reader #octane/you #apex imagines #apex lemons #octane x you #fem reader #nsft #lemon #lime?#whatever there's some spicy shit in here #if ur not 18 don't enter lmao #shorty writes #female reader

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