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raracha · 7 days ago

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Ab Voce Ad Rem (Silco×gn!Reader)

Before a deal with potential partners from abroad who happen to only speak your native language, Silco asks you to serve as an interpreter. But there's a twist.

Word count: 2,7K

Tags: NSFW, established relationship, kinda henchman!reader if ya squint, dirty talk, non consensual voyeurism (?), no pronounces and gendered genitals mentioned

P.s.: based on my own two year old prompt also this is self indulgent bc I need to give my translation degree some justice

"You know how much I hate it!" You exclaim, settling on a poorly cushioned settee with familiarity allowed to so few under Silco's employ. Limbs sprawl out on the red velvet, an exasperated sigh followed by a groan escapes your lips before you tilt your head up to look at him, masterfully pretending to be hard at work with his mismatched gaze focused intently on the dissaray of papers strewn before him on the desk. Asshole.

"Indeed. I also happen to know how fortunate I am to have someone as... linguistically skilled as you by my side, my dear." He finally breaks the tense silence without looking up at you, his voice slightly hoarser and deeper than usual, a testament to how much time had passed since he last parted his lips to utter a sound. To ask you to be his oral translator for a deal to come. "I assure you - it will not be as tedious as you dread it to be. I simply aim to corroborate that our interests align with those of our... potential business partners."

The words roll of his tongue lacking the usual sting and strictness he employs whenever he wants to make sure he is not just heard, but understood. Thoroughly so.

Instead, the deep velvet of his voice seems to soften, smoothing all the sharp angles out as he adresses you, his little dove, his confidant. His lover.

But his tender tone and insistent reassurance serve a poor job soothing your blooming anxiety. The prospect of performing the role of an interpreter during a business deal, where someone as well spoken and quick witted as Silco will undoubtedly lead the conversation, using intricate proverbs and slithering the words you've never heard before into his speech, doesn't excite you. Well,it does. But not in a good way.

You shuffle in your seat, making the settee groan in protest under your shifting weight as you move to rise to your feet, arms reaching out above your head as you stretch your whole body. A pleasant feeling of your muscles growing taut and the tiny gas bubbles crackling in-between your joints presents itself as a good-enough distraction from the thoughts concerning your new task at hand. Your top rides up, exposing the slightest of slivers of your belly, a sight you know Silco would appreciate, before you arms flail back to your sides and you catch him staring, shamelessly so. Of course. You giggle and stride over to his desk, feeling the cold metal of it's rimmed edge press against the back of your thighs before you hoist yourself up to sit fully on top of the work surface, your ass landing right beside the papers he's been pretending to be so engrossed in.

"You were drooling there, mister boss," your hand reaches out to pluck a pen from his hand, meeting zero resistance from his side. "If you plan on staring at me like this while I'm hard at work, doing insane mental gymnastics to translate words from one language to another, and on top of that make sure that the denseheads you're doing business with can comprehend it... well, it'll be a challenge."

The man let's out a low chuckle and looks up at you at last, scooting his chair closer to where you've perched yourself so comfortably, now free hands coming up to rest on your thighs and parting them slightly to settle in-between.

"When have you ever shied away from a challenge, my sweet?" he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, thin lips lingering on the heated skin as he continues to speak. "You know I don't employ weaklings... and you... you are a far cry from one."

Silco's fingers draw intricate patterns on your thighs, causing the hairs there to stand up and adorn the usually smooth skin with small bumps, a clear testament to how much your body enjoys his gentle ministrations. You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back and puffing your chest out, eager to be even closer to him.

"Silver tongue..." you whisper, unable to hold back a quivering, breathy laugh. "At least tell me more about what you plan on talking about, so I could prepare... you owe me that much, don't you?"

A soft hum echoes through the warm thick air of his office, charged with the combined scent of his vices, cologne and your perfume. A sound of his lips pressing a wet kiss against the skin of your neck follows soon after.

"And ruin such a lovely surprise?" Silco asks, in a mockingly sweet tone so uncharacteristic of him. "No, my dear. You're on your own here. Besides..."

The long fingers skillfully wriggle his pen out of your loosened grip, having utilised his affectionate nature to dull your senses and rightfully take his belonging back. Silco chuckles once more as he scoots away, your pathetic whines of protest caused by the sudden loss of both a writing utensil and his proximity serving to amuse him to no end. "By dignifying your request, I would risk sharing confidential information. And that is a fairly unfortunate issue to deal with. Terrible for the business."

The teal, healthy eye crinklesat the corner as Silco smiles at you, having repositioned his chair to where it was situated right before you had decided to make yourself feel at home in the confines of his workspace. His gaze lingers on you for a few more moments before he schools his expression back into the mask of a kingpin everyone fears and respects, cold and unyielding. Silco tilts the pen in his hand, poising the ink stained tip right above a piece of parchment littered with various numbers and names. He nods towards the door without lifting his gaze, a clear gesture for you to take your leave.

"Move along, dove. Prepare well. They will arrive in no time."

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

"Господа, Силко безмерно благодарен вам за изьявленное вами желание сотрудничать с его... корпорацией.¹" You repeat the words Silco had uttered moments prior, your gaze flickering down to the notes you've made as you listened to him speak, then up to the men sitting on two ridiculously small chairs poised before a coffee table and the settee you and Silco were currently occupying. He doesn't look your way, not even once, his mismatched eyes set exclusively on the men in front of him. A pair of sketchy looking men to be precise, one buff and bald with a ridiculous curled moustache, and the other scrawny and neurotic, tar black hair parted in the middle and bathed in unfathomable amounts of pomade.

The bald guy tenses his jaw as he leans forward, meaty elbows resting on his knees.

"Да, да, на здоровье, папаша. Ты лучше расскажи ка нам об условиях, а?²"He says in a deep baritone, a teasing edge adorning the condescending words. "Мы не будем рисковать шкурами за мизерный процент и паль. Товар должен быть отменным, а прибыль - ну, ты сам знаешь. Видать давно тут варишься³."

You clear your throat and poke the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue as you write down the man's words, so crude and foolish had Silco understood them the guy would've already been laying in the gutter with his throat slit. But you'll let Silco in on all the details later, no need to ruin a potentially good deal by personal disputes. You turn to Silco, your tongue peeking out to wet your dry lips before you speak.

"Our guests here would like to know more about the terms of the deal, sir. They say they don't want to risk their lives for small profits, or fail their clients by selling bad quality products."

Silco takes in your words, languidly leaning against the back of the settee, one leg thrown over the other as he keeps his gaze focused solely on his potential business partners still. A quiet hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he digests what he had heard from you and what he had managed to gather himself from observing the bald ones tone and body language, deft fingers reaching into an intricately ornated cigar case and pulling out a fresh one. The sound of a lighter flickering open is followed by a soft hiss of burning tobacco as Silco lights the cigar up and takes his first drag, the rich scent lacing the stuffy air with it's uniquely pungent fragrance. He exhales the smoke through his nose as he leans forward, one natural brow arched up as it's drawn twin remains straight.

"I don't believe I have given you reason to doubt my professionalism in the field. Ask those who had ever had the opportunity of working with me - if the likes of you would even be allowed to step a foot near them." He can't hold back a sneer as he says the last part, as arrogant as ever. Silco takes another drag from his cigar, unceremoniously exhaling the thick smoke in the direction of the men. "Do your job well and get twenty percent of the profits. You either accept MY terms, agree to aid me in allocating my product beyond the borders of your fair homeland and get well rewarded for it, or you take your leave. There is no paucity of people willing to perform your potential duties for a far lesser price."

Your pencil scribbles furiously against the paper as you rush to put down the main points of Silco's lengthy reply. A shaky exhales escapes your lips as you pull back to look at the foreigners, poor semblance of a polite smile gracing your features.

"Силко уверяет, что у вас нет причин сомневаться в его профессионализме. Он готов отдавать вам двадцать процентов от прибыли и если вы не согласитесь с его условиями, то он найдёт других желающих помочь в распространении его товара на территории вашего государства.⁴"

The bald man crinkles his nose and furrows his brows, clearly angered at the nonchalant and dismissive response from the kingpin. His mouth curves in dissatisfaction and he bares his teeth as he prepares to snark back before his comrade beats him to it.

"А договориться н-никак нельзя? Двадцать процентов это мало для нас.⁵" The scrawny man asks in a shaky voice, a well pronounced Adam's apple bulging against the skin of his frail neck as he swallows nervously.

The question is repeated to Silco by you in a language he understands, to which he doesn't reply immediately. Instead, he rolls his eyes and leans even further back against the couch, taking another lazy drag from his cigar, as if completely unaware of the presence of two strangers sitting right in front of him. This is getting boring, too much hassle and too much sass to deal with. Not all the pawns he's willing to put onto his board are as peculiar as those two - having the nerve to come to him, bargain and act like they're the ones doing him a favour? Truly a pair of fools, but bold ones, Silco will give them that. They'll go far. Just not in association with him.

The man turns to look at you at last, a semblance of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes meet yours. Silco slightly tilts his head and takes in your wound up state, how a pencil is gripped tightly in your fingers as you await for his response, how eager you are to write it down and transmit it into a language he'll never bother himself with learning. What a sight. His beloved dove so hard at work, so desirous to please him. How fortunate he is to have you, indeed.

Silco's gaze hardens once more as he spares the men an indifferent, almost bored glance. One final drag and the cigar is discarded, the glowing ember distinguished as he presses the tip against the bottom of a ceramic ashtray settled on the coffee table. He has to draw some amusement from the dire situation. And he will.

"Tell those imbeciles that once they leave, I'll take you." He almost growls as he says that, yet his voice remains even. "Right on the desk. Finish what we started earlier."

Your eyes widen enough to the point of almost bulging out of your sockets. The pencil in your hand cracks as your grip on it tightens and you barely hold back a surprised yelp at his sudden admission.

You catch the men looking at you in confusion, not having the slightest idea of what your boss had just said, and you intend to keep it that way.

"С- Силко говорит, что поднять процент не представляется возможным...⁶"

You come up with a sloppy lie, hoping they'll take it. And judging by their expressions, clearly weirded out by your sudden flustered state, they didn't.

But Silco seemed to care very little about the fact.

"First, I'll spread those beautiful thighs of yours and bury my face in between them, use my lips and tongue, make the sweet needy sounds I've come to adore to spill from your lips," he continues, looking the men straight in the eyes as he describes the filth you two will indulge in once the visitors are out the door. But the tone of his voice and the way he holds himself up serve to deceive the oblivious audience, making it seem as if he's still rambling about the stupid deal that was doomed to fail from the very start. "And once I've brought you to the brink of pleasure, I'll take you. Bury myself to the hilt, make you moan and cry out my name, loud enough to be heard through the tasteless music coming from below."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, squeezing your thighs together as you vividly picture his promise to you, counting seconds until it's fulfilled. There's no need to take any more notes now, your mind is focused on a completely different topic. You look up at the men once again, sensing how their confusion had heightened.

"Че он говорит?⁷" The bald one asks you after a long pause, the earlier anger in his voice now replaced with bewilderment. "Всё таки накидывать не будет?⁸"

Your lips part as you exhale shakily, moving your head from side to side.

"Н-нет, не будет...⁹"

"А че он ещё сказал? Долго же моросил.¹⁰"

A snicker falls from your lips as you steal a quick glance at Silco, as stoic as ever, as if he's not currently in the process of arousing you to the point of madness. In front of strangers, nonetheless.

"Либо двадцать процентов, либо выметайтесь отсюда...¹¹" you almost whine out, unable to control the words spilling from your lips as your whole body throbs and pulses, the heady feeling of feverish heat enveloping you, suffocating you. You are practically hallucinating the sensation of Silco's touch, of his hands groping and caressing you, of his eager mouth and tongue probing and tasting, licking and sucking, making you feel like you've ascended, known pleasures too great to be considered earthly.

The harshness of your breathy statement causes the men to falter and exchange confused glances.

"Tell them I'll finish inside you, too. Claim you as mine, completely and utterly. And I'll remained sheathed inside you until I grow aroused once more," Silco suddenly chimes in once more, a smug smirk adorning his scarred face, the mismatched gaze flickering with mischief. "Can you guess what will happen next, my sweet?"

"You'll fuck me again..." you whisper, paying no mind to the baffled audience now.

His smirk widens.

"Good dove."

Silco's expression shifts as focuses his attention on the visitors for a fragment of a second, his expression stone cold as waves his hand towards the exit, the gesture clear enough to be understood despite the language barrier. The men scurry to their feet and leave the office, exchanging murmurs and curses on their way out.

Once the door closes behind them with a prominent click, you all but pounce on the man beside you, lips hungrily crushing against his as you hurry to straddle his lap. He responds to your desire with equal fervor, groaning into the kiss at the feeling of your ass grinding against him and your trembling hands struggling to untie the intricate knot of his tie. Silco's hands come to rest on your hips as he brings you closer and he let's out a soft chuckle at your sloppy eagerness. You pull back, just enough to have the tip of your nose brush against his, your hot breathing mingling with his.

"You're the worst."

Silco chuckles once more.

"Yet here you are."

1. Gentlemen, Silco is immensely grateful for your expressed desire to cooperate with his... corporation.

TRANSLATIONS:

Title translation: "From Words to Action"

2. Yeah, yeah, you're welcome, pops. You better tell us about the terms, eh?

3. We won't risk our hides for a poor percentage and shitty wares. The product must be excellent, and the profit - well, you know. You've been here a long time.

4. Silco assures you that you have no reason to doubt his professionalism. He is ready to give you twenty percent of the profit and if you do not agree with his terms, he will find others willing to help in the distribution of his goods on the territory of your state.

5. Can't we make a deal? Twenty percent is not enough for us.

6. S- Silco says that it is not possible to raise the percentage.....

7. What is he saying?

8. He won't throw some more on?

9. N-no, he won't.

10. What else did he say? He's been yapping for a long time.

11. Either accept twenty percent, or get the hell out of here ...

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raracha · 9 days ago

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TRYING TO TAKE YOU HOME WHEN YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THEM. ft. dan heng, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, and sunday.

sfw. f!reader. in which the hsr men try their best to convince you that they really are your boyfriend and not a complete stranger trying to take you back home after a long night out.

cw for implied alcohol consumption. not mentioned otherwise — just the silly scenario where reader seemingly doesn’t recognize them upon first glance. prompt from anon on prev blog! fem!reader for all.

— DAN HENG.

He wonders if this was truly the best course of action.

“Give me back my jacket, you jerk...” your words come out slurred, barely mustering the strength needed to keep your hold on his sleeve as you trail behind him down the street.

His jacket — he'd usually correct you — but he doesn't this time, lest you eventually come to the conclusion that the mentioned jacket isn't even yours and therefore holds no importance.

“Soon. The agreement we settled on was that if you don't make a scene, I'll give it back.”

It sounds like a threat.

And if someone were to spot him now, this would certainly paint his image in a light that he would much rather not be perceived in, if given the choice.

He knows this all too well — apparent from the nervous sweat collecting along his temples and the frequent clearing of his throat whenever your grip begins to loosen, but you seem to only giggle at the statement now, eagerly nodding along.

“Really? You pinkie promise, stranger? I'll be reaaall quiet then.”

“Yes,” his brows furrow — from either stress or a sense of urgency that you don't seem to have, “I give you my word. So, please, keep your voice down and follow me.”

You respond with a cheerful hum before eventually falling silent again, the street quiet aside from the patter of your clumsy footsteps following closely behind his own.

Though it’s short-lived, much to Dan Heng’s misery.

Only about a minute or two goes by until you start to tug on his sleeve, and his heart nearly stops beating in his chest. Perhaps you’ve already realized. Or perhaps you’ve pegged him as a dangerous type of guy — which wouldn’t surprise him, given the circumstances.

“Hey…” you tug once more, even harder now, and then stop walking entirely — shifting your weight backwards to avoid being pulled straight into him.

Uh oh.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

“I'm sleepy.”

“You.. you want to sleep,” He repeats, still uncertain — his words coming off a bit too similar to that of a question. “Right now?”

You nod, hands coming to rub at your eyes, as if doing so could wipe away the sudden wave of drowsiness that has overtaken you. Though, your efforts prove to be futile in the end, with each blink becoming slower than the last.

“Yes,” you murmur, “Here. I'm going to nap … and then .. and then I need to find my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. A part of him is relieved you remember, at least. Perhaps the other critical piece of information will find its way back to you soon as well.

Your eyes flutter back open when something familiar is draped across your shoulders. “Don't sleep here.”

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

— JING YUAN.

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

It makes sense as soon as you turn to glare at him. While he’s rather certain he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a look, another part of him — his heart, skips a happy beat over how adorable you look, even if you’re not smiling at him like usual.

“I see,” Jing Yuan continues again, only a moment later, taking a seat beside you (and choosing to ignore the way you make the conscious effort to scoot an inch away from him). Sassily so, he might add, similar to the way you so endearingly turn your body away from him and puff your cheek out when he’s teased you just a bit too much for your liking.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

“Ah, how admirable he must be. You have no need for worry — I would never dream of wielding such a weapon.”

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

“This boyfriend of yours,” he speaks again, holding back a chuckle when you dramatically sigh at the sound of his voice once again, “surely he wouldn’t mind someone like myself keeping you company until he returns, wouldn’t you think?”

“I have grown quite curious. Perhaps he would allow me to see this impressive weapon for myself.”

— MYDEI.

“Actually, you’re rather comfy, stranger.”

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

“I’ve told you before. I’m no stranger.” The singular arm currently holding your thighs to his chest tightens, and you only giggle against his back, arms freely dangling beneath you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You’ve been surprisingly cooperative. In fact, he thinks he should make a mental note to remind you about being less trusting of strangers tomorrow — because .. surely, it should not have been so easy to convince you that he could simply carry you to your ‘boyfriend.’

Even now, when he’s seemingly been reduced to nothing aside from a mere stranger, you’re as inviting and friendly to him as ever — mumbling something about his strength, followed by a worried “Hey but — let me know if you get tired or anything, okay?”

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

“Say…” you start, drawing patterns along his back with a finger, as if nervous about his response. “Do you think Mydei’s worried?”

“I don’t want to worry him,” he lets you continue, eyes shifting back to the path ahead of him. “What do you think, strong stranger? He won’t be mad, right? Or sad, maybe?”

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

— PHAINON.

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

“‘Oh?’ Well, someone doesn’t sound very excited to see me.”

The stranger decides to approach you anyway, taking a seat on the tiles beside you before letting out an exhale himself, back of his head coming to lightly rest against the wall. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

“Your boyfriend? How strange.” The confusion starts to leave his face the longer he looks at you — lips curling ever so slightly at the idea that suddenly comes to mind.

“He must be cruel … to leave you here all by yourself.”

He almost slips and calls you cute when you stick an arm out to weakly jab a finger into his shoulder, turning your head to the side again to mutter a “Hey. He’s not cruel.”

Truly too cute — the way your eyes have narrowed into something resembling a glare — the same one you always give him whenever you scold him for being too careless. Though, it tends to fade as soon as it comes, replaced with soft kisses against the crown of his head as you lull him back to sleep.

“Aw,” He’s smiling now, “You’re certain he’s not cruel?”

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

The way his eyes begin to soften at your (unintentional) affection most definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you, he’s sure, nor the way his hand twitches — wanting nothing but to extend in your direction to pull you in for a hug. Though, luckily enough for him, you’ve settled on resting your head in the comfort of your own arms again, oblivious to the lovesick one seated beside you.

“I’ll make sure to tell him again … when I see him. So let me be, you weird stranger.”

— SUNDAY.

If someone happened to be wondering whether a halovian’s wings flap awkwardly when rendered completely speechless — this would be their golden opportunity to witness it firsthand.

“M-my apologies,” his wings flutter again, then a third time when your hand only tightens around his wrist, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. “Please excuse me. I was only checking for your temperature, since you seem to be rather…”

“No.” You don’t let go. In fact, you hold onto him as if you’ve just now captured a crook attempting to steal March’s snacks.

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

“No.”

“…”

“I… I see.” The nervous flutter of his wings shifts to something more sheepish — one wing moving to cover his mouth, as if deep in thought. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, for even someone such as himself is left dumbfounded by your current behavior. “Then.. is there anything you’d like for me to help with? Someone like March may be better suited for..”

“My boyfriend…” he falls silent as soon as you speak, noting the softness of your words now — barely above a hushed whisper (though the familiarity has him quickly perking up in response). “I want my boyfriend.”

His head tilts at this. Subtly. Truly confused — and even more so when your brows furrow only a second later, followed by a tug on his wrist. “I want my boyfriend.”

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

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raracha · 15 days ago

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15 break up sex?

Like You Still Love Me - Silco Smut

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: office/desk sex, gender neutral anatomy with the exception of "cunt", no pronouns for reader, silco pov, p in v/a sex, porn with a little bit of plot, cheating

Next Part || Masterlist || AO3 Link

no beta !

Silco is not one prone to “bad decisions”, but it should be obvious that a relationship with his employee was a terrible idea.

The breakup was messy and problematic, sending an array of tense situations his way. Between awkward meetings to discuss finance and import status and the occasional glare, the most apt description was uncomfortable.

However, the current situation is far from uncomfortable–physically that is. Buried deep inside your cunt? Pulling you back into his every thrust? Definitely not as uncomfortable as it could be.

Despite your compromising position, you still find it in you to glare at Silco over your shoulder as he fucks you from behind, poorly masking your impending climax.

“Couldn’t get off without me?” he taunts, watching the rage on your face slowly crank up. “You always did wonders for my ego.”

You grit your teeth. “Don’t let it get to your head, you aren’t the only dick I’ve had this week.”

“Come again?”

Without his knowledge, Silco’s fingers tighten their grip on your waist, hips snapping harder into you. If the “o” of your mouth is anything to go off of, he would say you almost did come again.

“I. Fucked. Someone. Else.”

“Who?”

As if it wasn’t already, Silco’s blood pressure is spiking at your spiteful silence, watching you grin to yourself.

“Who did you fuck?” Silco grits out, taking hold of your hair and pulling hard. When did ‘splitting up’ mean fucking someone else within days.

You look over your shoulder, making a show of how exposed your throat is with the way Silco pulls your hair back.

“The lovely sheriff of Piltover.”

Red, all Silco sees is red. Red and the brutal, carnal need to dominate–to take back what’s his. Silco abandons his hold on your hair to grab both wrists and pin them behind your back, forcing your front against the hard surface of the desk with a dull thunk. Your low moan is not the sound Silco wants to hear but it spurs him on nonetheless as he drills into your backside with relentless fervor.

“Mmmnnn he has a big dick too,” you groan, boots scrambling on the floor as you try to find purchase, “I think you– ah!– have competition, Sil.”

You’re getting close to your release, clenching tight around him in frequent throbs, stuttered cries of his name tumbling from your lips alongside your cruel story telling.

“And he came inside.”

Silco’s hand comes down hard on your ass and you cry out again.

“You think you can get rid of my claim on you that easily?” he hisses, slowing his pace to settle on something harder and more brutal that has your climax fading away. Your hedonistic whine confirms this. “I’m not a man you can just forget.”

“I know!” You yelp, squirming against his hold on you, walls still clamping down on Silco’s cock as you adapt to his changes and get close again.

“If you know then why did you do it?” Silco’s voice is ragged, your tightness becoming too much to handle as you tumble off the peak of your orgasm, going rigid in the throes of your pleasure. Silco is not far behind, finding it hard to even thrust into you with how fiercely your body takes him, not wanting to let go as he throbs out his release inside of you.

Bated breaths fill the thick office air, the smell of sweat and sex an odor Silco will have to remedy with a few smokes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks again, throat dry and hoarse with the visceral groans he had bitten back whilst filling you up.

When he releases your hands they fall limpishly to your sides and you make no attempt to get up or even look at Silco. The shame is evident in your shaky voice.

“So you would fuck me like you still loved me.”

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raracha · 20 days ago

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do you have any silco x reader fic recs? both on ao3 and tumblr?

Oh boy do I.

I have zero time for reading these days (sob sob) so I'm sadly not at all familiar with any new fics post S2 being aired. But let me lay before you a sumptuous feast; lovingly prepared by the old guard of the Silco fucker society.

Reader's responsibility applies - please check tags etc etc..

Flawless - @a-gal-with-taste

An apt title, for Gal's writing is, indeed, flawless. Silco x Sex Worker!Reader. Absolutely brutal and beautiful - to me, Gal is the Angela Carter of the Silco fandom.

Here be Dragons // Hic Sunt Dracones - @sherwood-forests

This will always be one of my top recommends for a Silco x Reader fic. It's unlike anything else that I've seen in the fandom, and it reminds me of one of my favourite books Uprooted by Naomi Novik. Gives me the cosy feels.

Penance - @astudyincontrasts

Hands down the hottest, sexiest Silco fic in my opinion. If you enjoyed Fleabag or want to bang that priest from Midnight Mass then you need to get on this fic ASAP. To this day I cannot set foot in a church without getting horny. Thanks Study.

Secret Ingredient - @sweatandwoe

This is the Silco fic that made me want to write my own. DWM exists because of Sweaty. Domestic romance and drama of the absolute best kind.

Come Morning - @chickenparm

Parm has so many Silco fics and they are all incredible and required reading for the fandom. But I've chosen this one because it's so incredibly real and human, and will rip your heart to shreds.

Swapped - @silcoitus

I love seeing my blorbos in Situations™ and this is one hell of a Situation™ to find oneself in. Fun, funny, and full of tension. I get the pleasure of beta-reading this one, and I always have the best time squawking at Coi in the comments bar on google docs.

Go, Team! - @vasiktomis

This is actually Marcus x Reader x Silco and it's fucking genius. Vas is a genius and a pervert and I love them and they're my role model. Everyone absolutely has the right not to engage with content that they're not interested in but also if you don't read this fic then you're a coward.

Bend But Not Break - @constantfragmentation

This is a Jane Eyre retelling in the form of a Silco x Reader fic. Yeah that's right. Regency Silco. Emotional constipation cranked up to the max and coats with tails? Yes please. Ensure that you're near a fainting couch whilst reading because you will swoon.

Art in the Heart - @juniper-sunny

Juni was out here giving Young Revolutionary Silco his time in the spotlight long before he was ever animated. If you're a new to the fandom and have come here specifically because of young Silco then AITH is required reading. Head over to Juni's you'll be fed good.

To The Depths - @cognacandlilac

Full disclosure, I haven't actually had the chance to read this fic yet. But it has been on my TBR for an embarrassingly long time and every time I see a snippet I'm like "hot damn I need to get on this pronto" because I just know I'm going to be totally obsessed and consumed by it.

I've only picked one fic for each of the above but I would honestly recommend just tearing through the entirety of their fic lists because there are some absolute masterpieces in there. This is also far from an extensive list - there are so many incredible writers in the fandom and I'm so sorry for anyone I've missed off. I say this with my whole heart - the Silco fandom is easily one of the most talented and skilled corners of the internet. We may be fairly small in numbers compared to other characters/fandoms, but by God the art and stories we have are platinum quality.

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