#silco arcane fic

[gingernut1314]

Bit of Friendly Banter ch. 6

Summary: Everyone is hanging out at The Last Drop when unwelcomed guests show up baring bad news that only continues to spark tensions between the Undercity and Piltover.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevkia, young reader, young Benzo, young Felicia, pre-Sheriff Grayson, baby Viktor, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, unrequited love, fear of rejection/ruining friendship, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 4.1K

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“You should choose that one.” You spoke from where you leaned against Silco's back, reaching over his shoulder to tap at the cards in his hand. Silco hummed around his cigarette, smoke puffing from between his thin lips as he ran his fingertips over the worn cards. 

His fingers hovered over the one you had pointed at, seeming as if he was going to choose it, but they grabbed for the card next to it, placing it gently on the table’s surface. Sevika scowled at the card, nearly biting her blunt in half. 

“If you wanted to play,” Silco started, pulling his cigarette from his mouth to offer it to you. You took it, fingertips brushing as you did and sending your nerves standing on end. “You should have done so.” 

“And lose more coin? I’m okay.” You huffed, fitting the cigarette between your lips and pulling the thick, nicotine-riddled smoke into your lungs. Silco’s lips pulled in amusement, seafoam eyes watching as Nadia’s husband, Nikolai, slowly pulled a card from the selection in his hand. 

Nikolai was as equally tall, lanky, and pale as Nadia. His eyes, a near-black brown, were framed by deep bags that made him look as if he never slept. It was something Nadia confirmed, having told you many times of her husband's unhealthy habit of staying up well past his bedtime to finish working on a sculpture for some Piltie snob. 

You turned your gaze slightly to spot his wife over by the jukebox, their equally as tall, lanky, and pale son, Viktor, on her hip. Viktor looked like a mini copy of Nikolai, with his sharp cheekbones, nose, and mane of brown hair. Nadia’s genres had stood no chance against her husbands, except for one. His eyes, which were that same bright, burnt gold color.

The six-year-old watched the jukebox's arm come to life after the choosing of a new song, those eyes watching closely as if taking down notes on how it worked.

Probably was taking mental notes, the damn smart kid. 

You were still waiting on him to build you that mini-fridge to put in the small-ass apartment Sevika and you shared. 

“We could have played a non-betting game.” Silco reached for the cigarette still between your lips. You let him grab it, the fleeting feel of his skin against your lips sending your brain buzzing more than any drink or smoke or drug could ever hope to achieve. 

“Yeah right.” Silco’s eyes turned onto you then, watching your lips as you blew the remaining smoke from your lungs. You felt your skin burn at the attention. “Like Sevika would let us.” He chuckled. 

“Oh I’m sure we could convince her…might have to bet her though.” You chuckled at how true he was. Sevika was very betting originated. If there was a gamble to be had you were sure to find her in the middle of it.

“Hey,” Sevika hissed from her place directly across from you two. “How about you two stop eye fucking and take your turn, weasel.” Your skin burned in something other than Silco’s attention. 

“You’re quite the piss poor loser.” Silco smoothly said. He leaned back in his chair, a cocky look on his face.

“The game has ended?” Nikolai asked, his confused voice sporting the same accent as his wife, both having run away from their war-torn homeland years ago.

“No.” Sevika snapped. Nikolai’s lips formed a small ‘O’, eyes turning right back to the cards in his hands, which lay at different skewed angles. “I’m not losing this time, asshole.” She bit once more at Silco who gave her an unbelieving smirk. 

“Maybe if you wish on it hard enough.” Silco shrugged. Sevika went to open her mouth again but was cut off by a low groan from the other player at the table.

“I only agreed to take Benzo's spot because you two promised me it would be a friendly game.” Felicia, dark blue-haired and stunningly beautiful, said. You watched her place her cards face down on the table, replacing them with her half-drank cocktail, which she playfully smirked behind. 

You had disliked Felicia as soon as you laid eyes on her three years ago. 

It was a dislike you knew was irrational. One that truly had no backing to it but one you held regardless. 

And it didn’t help that everyone else in your group adored her. 

She was fun and beautiful. She knew how to talk to people in a way that left them hanging off her every word. She worked in the mines with Vander, Silco, and Benzo, so she understood the struggle of that life and had instantly been as taken with the idea of Zaun as you all had been. 

And, worst of all, she was a flirt. 

A huge flirt. 

“She’d flirt with the damn wind if it rustled a bit of paper in her direction.” Sevika had chuckled to you once. 

Yeah, Felicia would definitely flirt with Janna if the Winds showed her face around her and it was just another thing that pissed you off. 

Felicia flirted with Sevika. With Benzo, Vander, and even Nadia and Nikolai, the couple growing all flustered and blushy each time. 

She flirted with Silco too. 

And Silco flirted back. 

It was expected. Silco was just as much a flirt as Felicia. Maybe she liked the game just as much as Silco. Maybe that’s why they got along so well.

Whatever it was you hated it. 

“It’s just a bit of friendly banter.” Silco matched her playful smirk. Felicia pulled forward, getting close to Silco but not close enough to peek at his cards. You watched her hold her free hand out and wiggle her fingers in his direction. Silco handed her the cigarette without any hesitation. 

You watched their fingers brush. 

Watched their fingers linger.

“You promise?” She asked, bringing the cigarette to her lips. 

“Pinky promise.” She laughed at Silco, smoke puffing from her lungs. 

“Oh yeah?” Silco reached his hand back out, raising his pinky for her to take. You saw her muscles move as she started to reach back for Silco and that’s when you shoved off Silco’s back. Silco grunted as his ribs hit the edge of the table a little harder than you had intended. 

“The hel--What was that for?” Silco gruffed at you. Though you had been “cured” of your struggle to understand other’s emotions, you still struggled with understanding and controlling your own. 

Mainly, you struggled to not show every little thing you felt on your face. 

And right now you were pissed.

“What’s the matter with you?” Silco watched you narrowly, definitely taking notice of your change in mood.

“Nothing.” You practically grit out. “Getting a drink.” Sevika was chuckling at your outburst. Chuckles that grew into a bellow when you snatched Silco’s box of cigarettes, pulled a fresh one out, and stormed off.

You weaved around tables full of laughing patrons of The Last Drop, making it to the bar where a few people lent, waiting for their drink. 

Benzo was behind the bar tonight, helping Vander mix drinks up, which he was doing for a trio of men you now stood beside. One of which had decided to lean in closer to you. 

“Can I buy ya--” 

“No.” You hardly let him finish his sentence, not in the mood to deal with it.

“Oh come on. We can take a shot--” You snapped to bore your smoldering gaze into him. 

“I’ll give you to the count of three before I break your nose.” The man narrowed his gaze down on you, not getting the hint that you really would. 

Benzo handed the men their drinks, ushering them away before you could release your brewing anger upon him. 

“Uh oh. Somethin’ awoke the slumberin’ sea beast.” Benzo spoke, a smirk on his lips.

“Just get me a drink, Benzo.” You huffed, turning your pissed-off gaze onto him. 

“Didn’t we jus’ see the beast a week ago?” He asked, still finding your mood all too amusing. “Silco again?” You reached behind the bar to snag the box of matches you knew Vander kept there.

They did see the “beast” as Benzo called your anger. Last week when Silco had been flirting with a girl in this very bar. Flirting with some random person when it had meant to be a night you two hung out together. 

You’d just let your anger about that go three days ago. 

“Not everything is about Silco, asshole.” You bit, shoving the cigarette between your lips and flicking the match against the ridged side of the box, letting the fire bring the butt of the cigarette to a smolder. You inhaled deeply, willing the heavy smoke to cloud your mind and help you forget about the person Benzo knew you were pissed at. 

“Want’d he do this time?” Benzo pushed. 

“I’m gonna slap that damn smirk off your face if don’t shut the hell up.” You hissed loud enough it caught Vander’s attention. Benzo had just opened his mouth to continue when he came over, clapping Benzo on the shoulder. 

“How ‘bout you go take care of those two down there for me, yeah?” He instructed with a too-kind smile.

“Careful, Vander. This one's got teeth tonight.” He laughed before going to do as Vander asked. Vander watched him go before turning to look at you, a knowing gleam in his eyes. 

“Ya got teeth tonight?” You took another deep drag, fixing Vander with your burning gaze. 

“Razor sharp.” You spoke on an exhale of smoke. 

“Ah, I see.” He mused, beginning to scoop ice into a shaker. You two stood in silence for a long moment as you watched Vander work. You could tell he was making something sweet but held a hidden bite within it. A perfect drink, in your opinion. 

The muscles in Vander’s arms flexed the slightest bit as he shook the liquids together before straining it into a cup. He placed a little decorative flower on top before presenting it to you. You gratefully took the glass from him, exhaling yet another drag of smoke before taking a sip. 

Just how you liked it. Sweet but strong. 

“So what’s got you baring your fangs tonight, sweetheart?” He asked, lending his hands on the bar before him. You swallowed sharply. 

“Nothing. I just needed a drink.” Vander gave a known nod, thumb tapping lightly against the wooden bartop. His eyes turned from you to look towards the table full of his friends who had resumed their game. 

“Those two are just having a laugh.” You knew you were being foolish. Being unfairly angry at him, but you truly did not need to be reminded.

“I know.” You bit. Vander gave another small nod. 

“Why haven’t you talked with him yet?” You snapped your eyes up at Vander. He suggested you talk to Silco many times before about how you feel. Suggested it last week too. And every time you gave him a simple, bullshitted answer as to why you wouldn’t.

“Busy.” Vander leveled you with a look that almost made you squirm. 

“Life’s busy. How it goes. Doesn’t mean you can keep using it as an excuse.” 

“I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Well, then, don’t” He pushed off the bar top, taking his matches with him. “Can I let you in on a little bit of a secret though?” You watched him carefully as he grabbed for his metal pipe. “Felicia’s set her sights on a new guy we work with. Connol. She’s never quite enjoyed someone as much as I’ve seen her enjoy that one. Silco’s never been that to her in the slightest.”  

“Doesn’t mean she hasn’t been that for him.” You murmured before you could stop yourself. Vander gave you a small smile, lighting his pipe and taking a pull from it. 

“Like I said, sweetheart. It’s just for a laugh.” You opened your mouth to say something more, but the doors to The Last Drop Swung open and all noise ceased. 

You spun around, finding a large group of enforcers marching in, armor gleaming and masks looking devilish in the dim light. 

People around the bar stood, readying for a fight if needed. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sevika grab hold of Nikolai, keeping him from rushing across the bar towards Nadia, who holding onto Viktor tightly. They both watched each other, fear and panic clear in their eyes for the other. 

Vander had just begun rounding the bar when someone pressed their side against your own. You knew instantly who it was, not needing to look up to find Silco standing there. 

“How can I help you?” Vander asked, breaking the silence that had washed over his bar. The leading enforcer grabbed for their mask, pulling it off to reveal Sergent Grayson, who steadied Vander with a near-pitying gaze.

“Forgive me for the intrusion.” She began, voice smooth yet carried a rasp to it. “Do you own this establishment?” Vander gave her a nod, bringing his pipe to his lips. Grayson held her hand out, another, still masked, enforcer rushed forward to place a roll of paper in her gloved hand. “The council has made a few changes you should be aware of.” A murmur rose among the crowd as she passed the paper to Vander. 

He took it, fire sparking in his eyes. A deep fire he very rarely let show as such. 

Vander was the peacekeeper. The one who kept relationships within your group of friends stable. The one you would turn to if you needed advice or someone who would listen. The one who stopped the group and even others outside of it from blindly attacking when there was other ways to solve a problem. 

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry as you all were. Just as bloodthirsty for the rights you all deserved. 

He was the true slumbering beast. 

A wolf kept chained back until nothing and no one could stop it from bursting to life. 

You’d only ever seen the wolf twice. Once when they announced the mines reopening, and the second time when his father had been killed by an enforcer. 

And you saw that wolf again, pacing restlessly back and further looking for the right moment to strike.

“They’re still hungry for more, huh?” Vander mused, breaking the seal on the paper and unrolling it. 

“I have just come as a messenger. Please read it over. The changes will be enacted within the week.” She gave him one last, pitying smile before pulling her mask back into her face. 

As the enforcers left, people hissed and cursed them. Spit on them. 

Grayson seemed to feel the tension growing between her enforcers and the people within the bar and hung back, watching her officers and snapping at them if they got too close to an Undercitian as they left. 

As soon as the last of her enforcers left, she followed after, letting the door swing shut behind her and washing the bar in deathly silence once more. 

Dread. 

Hopelessness. 

Anger. 

Those were the things that hung heavy in the air as everyone watched Vander read over the paper, the edges getting crushed between his fingers the longer he did. 

Nikolai was the first to move, all but sprinting over to Nadia who held fearful tears in her eyes and was edger to be wrapped up in her husband's arms. 

Silco was the second to move, rushing to his brother’s side to peer at the paper he’d been given. His bared teeth were telling enough of what bullshit was written there. 

The next to move was Felicia, who made her way over to the jukebox. She pressed a few buttons before it whirled to life, an upbeat song beginning to play which she let carry her back through the crowd of patrons. 

“You heard her. We don’t need to worry about it just this moment.” She smiled brightly their way, trying to further distract them. 

“Fuck that. How dare they come in here and--” It was the guy who had tried to hit on you earlier, but Felicia grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him sharply away from his chair. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Come on. Vander will let us know what's up later.” She began to sway with the music again, pulling the guy closer and closer. “I wanna dance. And I wanna dance with you, handsome.” She purred up at him. The guy opened and closed his mouth like a fish, glancing back to his friends who had seemed to forget about the events that had just happened and were beginning to grin like goofy kids. 

And just like that, the room filled with voices and the clicking of glasses once more as if snapped from a daze. 

Vander too, seemed to be snapped back from the unfair reality thrust into his hands. A reality he shoved into his back pocket to be forgotten for now. 

And once more you found you couldn’t stand Felicia. 

You were grateful for her, yes. Happy she had been able to lift everyone's spirits but you wished you could do that. Wished you had the same playful way with people she so effortlessly showcased and used to her advantage. 

When she found you watching, she flashed you a charming smile and a playful wink. A smile that could never possibly hope to fully hide the same angry look in her eyes. The same anger you and everyone else felt every day--felt even more now. You gave her a steady nod back before she twirled away. 

Seaform eyes were the next to find your gaze. Eyes that rushed towards you in seconds. 

Silco grabbed hold of your hand and led you through The Last Drop. Past Nadia and her family, who Vander had found and was now speaking lively to Viktor, who shyly peeked up at him. Past Benzo who was heading back behind the bar and a few people who followed, edger for a drink. 

He dragged you up step after step into the upper levels of the place he called home. You passed a door that led to Vander’s office, a place you once made home within when Silco found out you had been living in a cave, though now that you had moved out, Vander had moved in. You passed by Silco and Benzo’s shared room and past the broom closest before making it to the ladder at the end of the hall. 

Silco let go of your hand only so he could climb, throwing the hatch open and disappearing up onto the roof. You quickly followed, finding him standing there waiting for you. As soon as you were securely up, he shut the hatch and rushed towards the roof edge to look over the streets below. 

You came up to his side, brushing your shoulder against his as you quickly spotted the horde of enforcers marching through the night.

“They are closing the distillery,” He spoke after watching the enforcers enter a diner that was open 24/7. One of you and Silco’s favorite spots to hit up after a long night of drinking. You pressed closer to him as your dread grew. “And the brew house. Deemed them “not up to code”.” 

“Fuck.” You hissed, “Mean’s we’re only gonna be able to get our drink from Piltover.” Silco nodded, eyes finding yours once more. 

“And you know how they love their taxes.” He said in utter disgust. “We can’t take this lying down. It may just be alcohol but what is stopping them from deeming our docks “not up to code”? Our water sources? We won’t survive it.” 

You thought of Felicia then. Of how she had so quickly swooped in and calmed everyone's rage for the night. Because what could they do then? Nothing. 

They needed a plan. Something solid that might possibly stand a chance against Piltover.

“We need to take action and we need to do it--” You cut Silco off with a simple grab of his hands and a soft smile. 

“Let's have a smoke, okay?” He started saying your name but you pressed a finger to your lips, shushing him. “I agree…but we’ll discuss it all tomorrow. We won’t take it lying down. We’ll fight,” Silco’s lips thinned as he listened to you, hands holding yours tighter. “But it's a nice night out. I want to smoke with you.” He watched you for a long moment, looking like he might try to keep talking of action but he gave you a nod. 

“Please.” He breathed. You guided him to sit down on the ledge, one leg dangling off either side. You watched him pull his box of cigarettes and lighter out from his pocket, a cigarette extended towards you as he placed one between his lips. 

His gaze never once left yours as he lit both cigarettes, the light dancing within his eyes in a physical showing of his burning desire for freedom. A desire you felt too--ached more for when you were around him.

You two sat in easy silence for a while, watching each other and only looking away when the enforcers came marching back out of the 24/7 diner. You watched them disappear into the night before Silco’s foot tapping your own caught your attention once more. 

“Why were you so pissed early?” He asked on an exhale of smoke. You did the opposite, filling your lungs with the heavy, warm smoke so you could prolong an answer. 

“Wasn’t.” Silco gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe you one bit. You shrugged. “Really.” 

“Really?” He repeated. You nodded on a popping yep. “Well, I really find that hard to believe. I could see your blood boiling.” 

“My blood was very much at a normal boil.” You pulled in more fogging smoke. 

“I think that’s something you should have checked out. Your boiling blood.” You kicked his foot only for him to quickly kick it back. “Just tell me. Was it something I did?” 

“Just talk to him. Tell him what you're feeling.” Vander’s past words rang through your mind. 

Tell him your feelings. 

It couldn’t be that hard. You certainly weren’t busy right now. It would be a perfect time to do it. 

But the longer you looked over his face, the longer you thought about how he never looked at you how he looked at other girls, had you pushing those thoughts way down. 

“Sevkia pissed me off.” You lied. Well, it was partially true. You hated how she always found ways to try to embarrass and upset you when she herself was pissed off during a game.

So you went that route. 

Silco watched you for a moment, all-seeing eyes all but digging into the depth of your soul to figure out if that was the true reason. 

You willed yourself to believe it. To make him believe you believed it. 

“About what she said about us?” You nodded, taking another drag. 

“It was stupid. She says stupid shit all the time, need to not get so worked up over it.” Silco took another drag himself, something heaving growing in his eyes. A heaviness you couldn’t quite figure out. 

“You’re right. She’s awfully stupid.” He joked. You kicked his foot again and he kicked you right back. “Why do I feel like that’s not really why you were upset? You shoved me remember? Not Sevkia.” You gave an overly loud groan. 

“What is this? If I wanted to get interrogated, I’d go find those bucket heads.” Silco shook his head at your dramatics. 

“I’m not interrogating you.” He huffed, giving your foot another swift kick which you, just as swiftly, dealt back. “You just…used to talk more freely with me. Told me exactly why and how I had pissed you off.” His voice came out a bit softer then. A softness that pulled at your heart in a way you hadn’t expected it to. 

You missed that too…but you couldn’t go around telling him you were--were jealous of the people he flirted with. Whether that be play or real flirting. It would ruin everything between you two. 

You two were friends. 

Strictly.

And you had to keep it that way. Because not only would it throw a wrench in your friendship, but you would only become another conquest in his game. 

You didn’t want to just be another girl as stupid and cliche as you felt thinking it. You wanted him to want you fully, just as you wanted him. 

“Didn’t give a shit about my shitty social skills back then. No one was safe.” Silco chuckled at this, a look in his eyes like he was remembering back to the beginning days of your friendship. 

“You still have pretty shitty social skills.” You gave a gasp, kicking his foot a little harder at that. He kicked you just as hard back.

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𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐:𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝!𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘 𝚇 𝙾𝙲

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𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 2 𝙰𝙲𝚃 2

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒, 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊, 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚙, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜.

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The slow, familiar music that started playing on the jukebox filled Ramanti's ears, causing a small smile to pull on her lips. Her green eyes fell over to her boyfriend, then her close friend who was cleaning a cup, but they quickly fell down to her sketch again.

"What's the occasion?" Vander asked, looking over at Felicia who was slowly starting to sway with her hands on the edges of the old jukebox.

"Hmm." She hummed first. "Can't a lady just be in the mood for a familiar song?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of Vander's mouth when he heard the blue haired woman speak, a chuckle was heard and he swung the cloth over his shoulder. "Not this lady, and not this song."

"Leave the woman alone, Vander." Ramanti laughed out, glancing over he shoulder to look at Felicia, who was now taking her time to walk over to the bar with her arms moving in time with the music. "Good music is good music."

Vander was smiling down at himself at Felicia's dancing, while Silco was focused on his writing. Gods, it was rough to wonder what was going through that min, he couldn't seem to turn off politics and business even when the four of them were meant to be relaxing.

Felicia's dancing ceased when she got close to the bar, her arms dropping so she could lean them against the counter, a hand holding the drink that Vander poured for the four of them.

"Tonight a hare-brained scheme these two bozos," The grey eyed woman looked up at her bartender friend, Silco had paused in his writing and Ramanti's head tilted up to smile over at the two men. ",cooked up to turn a dank crank in the earth into a thriving, healthy community, became a reality."

Vander and Felicia's glasses clung against each other's, while Silco didn't move with his and the sketching woman was left to hold her glass up to the air.

"Tonight, eh?" Vander questioned. "You hear that Bozo 2? We made it, we're done."

"Oh, you're sadly mistaken." Silco said, picking up his drink he had from before Vander's pouring of the alcoholic beverage, motioning it around while he held it. "I'm Bozo 1."

"A night of revelations." Vander responded before downing his drink.

Ramanti chuckled faintly to herself, stuck staring at the red liquid in her glass, swirling it around as she moved her wrist. "He fooled me."

Silco and Felicia held their drinks to one another, the blue haired woman only staring at hers, similar to Ramanti, as Vander placed his empty glass on the counter and as Silco drank his beverage.

"I'm knocked up." Felicia said rather suddenly, her glass now placed on the counter as well, her words causing the other three to completely growing silent.

The three shared quick glances with one another as Felicia's gaze was fixated on the bar counter, her chin resting on her palm. Vander was quick to change her alcoholic beverage with an orange juice, sticking a straw in the cup before Felicia moved to pull it closer to her.

“Well, shit.” Ramanti breathed out, a surprised, breathless laugh escaping her lips.

"A girl." She simply spoke, taking the straw and bringing it to her mouth.

"How do you know." Vander questioned, his arms crossed over the counter, pushing his weight purely on his arms.

Felicia shrugged after taking her sip of juice, "Wasn't really part of my plan, but guess that's everything when you're living week to week."

Silco closed his book, grabbing his glass that Vander poured him and walked closer towards Vander and Felicia. Ramanti scooted up from her place sitting on top of the counter, manoeuvring so that she didn't knock off anything that was already placed on top of it.

“What did Connol say?” Vander pressed, his hand grasping what would have been Felicia’s drink.

“I haven’t told him.” She paused for a moment, taking a small breath before continuing. “Working up the nerve.”

“Ah, so we’re the favourites?” Ramanti asked with a grin, crossing her legs and leaning both elbows on each of her knees. “Does that mean one of us are the Godparents?”

Felicia rolled her eyes at her old friend’s jokes, scoffing quietly and waving Ramanti off with a wave of the hand. Silco’s hand lightly moved up and patted the redhead’s knees, a mock at comforting the light and silent dismissal.

She rested her head on her palm again, she almost looked… defeated. “I don’t know anything about kids, I get sweaty being alone with one.”

“Hey, you’re going to be a great mother.” Vander reassured, his gaze never faltering from Felicia’s face.

“Shut up, I’m not ready for that” through her rude tone, there was a hint of playfulness in her words, a small smile subtly pulling at her lips.

She started swirling her orange juice with the straw she was given, starting to rant. “I started trying to come up with a name, then it hits me that this one word is a division she’s going to live with her whole life.”

“I can’t protect her from all the shit down here and work out how to be a parent at the same time.” She removed her hand from the straw, crossing her arms over the counter and looking up and Vander again, smirking. “Then I realised, I don’t have to.”

“Huh, why’s that?” Vander questioned.

“Because the second I told you, I put you on the hook.” Felicia wandered, glancing over at Silco, moving to rest her chin on the back of her finger. “You two are going to figure this Zaun thing out.”

She pointed her index finger at Vander, then at Silco.“I don’t care if you have to carve it out the bedrock, covered in blisters.”

“You not allowed to fail anymore. For her. For me.”

“What’s the point if we can’t raise an ankle biter or two?” Vander asked rhetorically, glancing over at Silco, eyes wondering to Ramanti with a suggestive grin.

“Shove it, Vander.” The redhead quickly said, but gave a small nod to Felicia. “Trust these two knuckleheads to sort out Zaun, though.”

“To Zaun then.” Silco said after chuckling, holding his drink to the other three.“Blisters and bedrock.”

“Blisters and bedrock.” Vander and Ramanti said in unison, all four clinking their drinks together.

There was a moment of silence again, the song died out when it finished and the four sipped from each of their cups.

Then, Vander spoke up.“I’ve always liked the name Violet.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was starting to get late, even for the undercity’s slums. The lights at The Last Drop were slowly getting turned off and Vander was starting to make subtle jabs at the three others to get them to leave soon.

Ramanti had news to share too, but she needed a good moment and she wasn’t about to let her friends be the first ones to know instead of her own boyfriend. She wondered if she should tell Vander at the same time, Silco and Vander were like brothers and they were a package deal.

Vander could already tell something was wrong, Ramanti was starting to get antsy ever since Felicia revealed she was pregnant.

“Silco.” Ramanti called out eventually, he was packing up his stuff.

Vander’s eyes glanced up when he heard his friend’s name, curiously gauging what was going on. The skinner brunette looked up and over to his partner, a quizzical look on his face.

“Can we talk?” She asked, her voice quieter than before, but when Silco motioned as if to say ‘we are now’, Ramanti glanced at Vander then back at Silco. “Alone?”

There was a flash look of concern on Silco's face, his eyes lingered on Vander's for a moment as if to question if he knew what was going on - even though Silco knew that the odds of Vander knowing what you wanted to talk about was slim - and the man was met with a simple shrug of the larger man's shoulders.

Silco turned back to his love, he was almost hesitant to answer. Almost. "Okay."

The two went to a more private area, they both stilled in the location and Ramanti's hands found Silco's, wrapping her long fingers around his palms. However, the action only caused the taller man's brow to furrow, he was looking down at their hands, noticing how the curly haired woman's grasp tightened around his hands.

"What's going on?" He asked, though, the question subconsciously came out as more of a demand, like he was commanding her to tell him what was going on, what caused her to act like this.

"Silco," She started softly, a certain type of smile on her face that would usually warm Silco's heart to the core with one glance. "My dear."

"You're being sentimental." He observed quietly, one his hands parting from her smaller ones to cup her cheek delicately, his thumb slowly caressing her skin. "And you're stalling."

"I am." She confirmed with a small laugh, her gaze falling.

However, her eyes didn't linger on the ground for long, Silco was quick to make her look back up. "Why?"

"I need to tell you something." Ramanti spoke, her voice so faint that Silco struggled to hear it.

A quick laugh escaped his lips. "Well, that much I gathered."

There was stillness once more between the two lovers, Silco didn't like it one bit.

"Tell me." He requested softly, the few times he honestly let his voice drop down to the level of calmness, reserved only for Ramanti.

Ramanti took a deep breath, she was sure if she wasn't having the closeness of Silco's hand on her, she wouldn't be able to tell him outright. Hell, she was wondering if she was able to do it without downing several shots of anything she could get her hands on.

"I'm knocked up too." She blurted out swiftly, she couldn't help but keep her eyes fixated on her boyfriend's, trying to gauge out his reaction.

Unfortunately for Ramanti, Silco was completely and utterly frozen. If she had decided to take a step back, Silco's hand would have been suspended in mid-air where he would have been previously holding her cheek.

"Silco." She called, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "Silco, did you hear me?"

"I heard you." He confirmed with an unnatural silent-like octave. "I heard you."

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to look at me like a lost puppy?" The woman questioned, forcing an amused laugh out of her mouth to try and cover up the nerves that pooled in the bottom of her stomach.

"You're pregnant." He muttered softly, his eyes falling down to Ramanti's stomach. before finding her eyes again.

He had a blank expression on his face, but it swift to uplift into a bright grin. His arms quick to embrace the smaller woman as disbelieving laughter bubbled out of him, beyond his control.

"Bloody-" Ramanti squealed out when she felt Silco overcome with such happiness, but she, too, ended up in a fit of laughter soon after he started to pepper her face with kisses.

“You’re pregnant.” He repeated, both of his hands holding on each side of Ramanti’s face. There was this stupid grin on his face, one that only encouraged the redhead’s smile to widen.

“Yes, I am.” She whispered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Masterlist

[sevikaskittygf]

nsfw sevika headcannons.

author's note - this is really short sorry but hi i'm making a comeback.

--------------------------------------------

- def into choking. she loves seeing you claw at her arm, loves seeing your eyes get all glassy eyed from how stupid she's making you on her cock.

- she loves marking, seeing bites she littered on your body from the night before gets her all hot and bothered. "who did that to you, bunny?" , she always asks you the next morning, thinking it's so cute how flustered you get.

- she can't get enough of manhandling, especially if you're on the heavier side. it's such an ego boost when she's able to pick you up and throw you around, hauling you into any position she'd like.

- face fucking is a must. she'll make you look at her while she grinds her clit up on your tongue, her juices spreading all over your face. or she'll force you to go all the way on her dick, sevika will swear up and down that she can feel the way throat constricts when she shoves her strap all the way down your throat, relishing in the way you gag, making some of the prettiest sounds she's ever been blessed to hear.

- show!sevika would probably be too afraid to do anything in public for the sake of your safety, but modern!sevika's favorite thing is to fuck you in the most public of places. fingering you on trains, eating you out in a resturant's bathroom stall, sometimes, she loves to use those long distance vibrators whenever you're out alone.

uhhh that's all i have sorry :3

[the-darklings]

FOR YOUR ARCANE PROMPTS LIST POOKIE: "hands under your lover's clothes" w/Silco??? perhaps?? perchance?? PLS PLS POOKIE, MY GLORIOUS QUEEN, MY EVERYTHING <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ silco x gn!reader, complicated relationship, a little angst, no spoilers for s2, cat & mouse dynamic but who is who? wc: 768

“It’s dangerous playing games with a patient man.”

“Are you? Patient?”

Silco’s mouth flutters into what could pass for a fleeting smile. It’s a rare expression on him, an ease that is seldom seen in the years since he left Vander’s side. Nowadays, he is nothing like the fresh-faced youth so desperate to fix the world you first met.

“More so than many, I’d reckon,” he replies placidly, watching you with idle interest. You lean on his oak wood desk, the rough grain of the wood warm beneath your fingers as you skim over his notes and ledgers. His meticulous nature is evident in the way he organised everything about the Shimmer trade. It’s almost irritating. “You are here for a reason.”

The gentle accusation falls on deaf ears.

“I was just saying hello,” you drawl, your voice low, swinging your attention his way. Silco’s scoff is a low, throaty sound, barely audible, but filled with disdain. 

You’re not sure when it started, you and him. If it was survival or a desire for a better life that drove you both from the start. You wanted freedom and independence and then he took the Undercity, and, in a way, you too. Since then, you’ve existed in his sphere, enjoying his favour. Flaunt it without making it obvious, slipping past the cracks of his rules. 

He appears so collected on his chair, a king on his throne in truth, but his immaculate clothes are wrinkled, buttons undone, and his Adam’s apple bobs when you touch his tie. You know better than to go near his throat. The last time you did, fingers eager and teeth nipping at the taut flesh there, he jerked back as if shocked. Terror and rage had overcome him, twisting you on his bed, still tangled in each other, before you could turn back your instincts. When his hands closed around your throat in response, you didn’t fight him off, and maybe it was that above all else that made Silco snap out of his spell.

No, instead, you slip your hand past the unbuttoned shirt, tracing over his sharp collarbone. Silco rests his cheek lightly on his hand, watching you through a narrowed eyed stare. Daring you, yes, but also curious. The heavy scarring on his face never bothered you. You didn’t lack scars of your own, but this… 

You slip forward, knee resting on the chair between his parted legs, hand slipping lower, to rest over his thudding heart. 

“Hello.” Your lips shape the word before you breathe them against his lips again. Your free hand cups his face and the hard beat of his heart echoes against your palm. 

The kiss is gentle, more civilised than either of you are used to, a sweetness that lingers even though it’s not what either of you normally craves, but when he doesn’t pull away, a secret thrill shoots up your spine. His deep inhale fills your ears, the heat of his lips imprinting on yours. A deep, rumbling sound vibrates through his chest when you deepen the kiss, your fingers moving in gentle circles over his skin. 

With a viper’s swiftness, Silco snaps his hand behind your head when you break the kiss, keeping you close. Nose to nose, your breaths mingle. You can’t quite tell what lingers in his burning gaze, one icy blue, another molten gold. 

“Are you hoping to endear yourself to me?” he asks, knowing and throaty. “A foolish play.”

“I won’t say that,” you say, breathless. “And if I was… well, I think you’re holding up just fine.”

Licking your lips, you pull back, grinning at him. He hasn’t moved, his knuckles returning to his cheek. Nonchalant, except for the heavy weight with which he still examines you. Silco won’t indulge you in admitting you do this because you’re the only one he can rely on in this shitty, twisted world of yours. You support his vision, you’ve always believed it, even when you were younger. 

Adjusting your dishevelled clothes, you look over at him once more. Not so crisp and orderly for once. Satisfaction nestles in your gut at the observation that the usually perfectly groomed and dressed man—this infamous crime lord—is a mess in the dim light of his office. Undone. Caught. Even if predatory hunger reflects in that golden hue. 

You wag your fingers in a playful wave. “It’s dangerous playing games with patient people, love, haven’t you heard?”

[ace-of-zaun]

Kiss Me More. Pt. 1

silco x f!reader - 4.1k words - SFW

summary: “Whatever, all I’m saying is, I can teach you how to kiss,” Silco insists, before adding just a little too nonchalantly, “You know, if you want to.”

cw: first kiss, practice kissing, mild angst, fluff, jealous silco, first love, falling in love, friends to lovers, soft silco my beloved, young silco

-

You can always tell if Silco is home by the level of carnage that your living room is currently exuding. 

Honestly, it’s like the boy arrives home from work, stands smack-bang in the middle of the room, and shakes off all his belongings like a dog caught in the rain. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he did exactly that.

Vander, on the other hand, is at least a little bit more tidy. A little bit less chaotic. 

For example, you can tell that Vander isn’t home right now because his shoes aren’t lined up neatly next to the door (unless, of course, he’s come home barefoot which has happened before).

But, you know for a fact that Silco is home because his backpack is currently strewn across the sofa, his coat is somehow hanging off the lamp, and his shoes are leading an obvious trail through the room; one behind the other, like some abstract art of an invisible man walking. 

Oh, and also because you can hear him loudly cooking dinner in the kitchen. 

“Sil, I’m home!” you call out, toeing your shoes off and pushing them up against the wall by the front door with your feet.

“Hey! Just making us something to eat!” he shouts back.

Setting down your bag next to your shoes, you allow yourself to drop just as heavily onto the sofa, only pausing once to chuck Silco’s bag over the back of it, just so you can laugh at him when he can’t find it later.

A long day at work means you’re that kind of tired where you can’t quite tell whether it’s your muscles that are aching or your bones themselves. 

You’re completely still - head resting back, eyes glazed at the ceiling… for approximately two seconds before you realise your foot is tapping anxiously against the floor. It’s not long before your whole leg is jiggling, nervous energy building up until-

“Hey, Silco?” 

“Yeah?” he calls back, still in the kitchen. 

“How do people know how to kiss? Like how are you supposed to know what to do?” you ask, both still shouting somewhat to hear one another. 

There’s a pause. Then an incredulous-

“What?”

You’re not quite sure if Silco didn’t understand the question or whether he just didn’t hear you properly, so you ignore him until he finally pops his head around the open doorway of the kitchen to look at you.

His jet hair is mussed and a little wavy, probably from running his hand through it too much, and there’s a little streak of coal dust on his jaw. The thought of getting up and gently wiping it away for him flits through your mind but is forgotten entirely when he clears his throat, startling you back to his expectant expression. 

“I said, what do you think is the proper way to kiss someone? You know, so it feels… uh, good and stuff?”

Silco screws up his face in confusion.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You huff a breath of annoyance and tiredly run a hand through your hair.

“It’s just…” you begin, trailing off as embarrassment begins to heat your cheeks. But it’s only Silco. You’ve known each other for forever, so you power through in hopes of getting the answers you want. 

“It’s just that I’ve never kissed anybody before and I don’t want to mess it up.”

You’d been asked out on your very first proper date today and out of all the things you’re nervous about, kissing is, without a doubt, at the very top of that list. 

So what if people might think you’re a late bloomer - you’ve just never gotten round to it before! You’ve been far too busy working your arse off to make sure you and the boys could keep the home you’d all worked so hard to afford, let alone keep putting food on the table.

Plus, growing up and living with two ridiculous boys of your own had put you off wanting to spend time with any more for a good number of your teenage years (seriously, do all their bedrooms smell that bad?)

But today a boy you’d met a few times in the shop you worked in had asked you out on a date.

And maybe it was because he’d looked at you in a way that no-one else ever had before (in a way that made you feel like the only girl on Runeterra), or maybe it was because you felt like it was high-time you started thinking of yourself for once, but whatever the motive, you’d said yes.

Which had promptly led you to this current dilemma: One, what if he wants to kiss me? And two, how do I kiss?

Hoping Silco had heard some tricks from some of his friends at the mine, you thought he’d at least respond with some useful advice. You’re decidedly not expecting him to gawp at you like he used to do at the fish in the Undercity’s scuffed aquarium (also known as, sneaking into the underground factories at night to see the big glass windows lining the river). 

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” 

A jerk of your head up to stare at him… 

He has?

“Wait, you’ve already had your first kiss?” you squeak, hopelessly trying to keep the wobble out of your voice.

He’s definitely never talked about having his first kiss before. Why wouldn't he tell you something like that? (And why is thinking about all of this making you feel so uneasy?)

Silco pushes off the doorway he’s leaning on and crosses into the living room, choosing to perch on the arm of the sofa next to you. He’s still holding a spatula in his hand, which you would have normally teased him for if you weren’t so caught up having a crisis over Silco’s apparent love life. 

“Yeah, when I was like, thirteen,” he answers flippantly, as if it’s common knowledge. Old news. Last week’s gossip. 

“What?”

You’re aghast. Stranded out in an ocean with no lifeboat.

There’s this weird feeling bubbling up inside of you and for some reason your brain is hissing the word jealousjealousjealous like a wretched, little goblin, but you’re not jealous, you have no reason to be jealous. 

Gods, it’s not like you and Silco even like each other, you’re best friends, always have been, always will be. 

“With who?” you demand, crossing your arms across your chest and then promptly uncrossing them when you feel ridiculous. 

“Gods, I don’t remember, it was ages ago,” he says, pure indifference just oozing from him. 

“Wow,” you exclaim flatly, your sarcasm nearly reaching slow-clapping levels at his gross attitude. “Woooow.” 

“What? I’m supposed to remember every single kiss I’ve ever had?” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. 

You think you might have pulled a kidney. Or maybe your ribs have come loose. 

There’s been more than one kiss? Too many to remember or even bother to keep count? 

You can’t help but fall silent, staring at the ground as a sick, uneasy feeling spreads through you at a rate you can’t even hope to control. 

Oblivious as ever, Silco doesn’t even notice your internal spiral. 

“Wait, why do you want to know how to kiss? Who are you planning on kissing?” he all but demands, concern creeping into his tone.

It’s matched by the frown that paints his features when you finally drag your gaze back up to his face. 

“Seven,” you tell him before mumbling shyly, more to yourself than to him. “And I don’t know for sure if we’re gonna kiss.” 

Now it’s Silco’s turn to blanch. 

“Who?”

“You know, that boy who comes into the shop sometimes,” you huff in annoyance. 

Janna, he never listens to you.

His reaction is to grimace and you’re not entirely sure why it warrants such a visceral reaction. 

“I thought you found him annoying,” he points out (rather unhelpfully, if you do say so yourself).

Okay, technically, you had said that. At first you’d found his hovering a bit stifling, especially when you were trying to work. But now that he’d asked you out, you think he can’t be all that bad. 

“Well, yeah, at first, but he’s kinda sweet when you get to know him,” you explain, unable to hold back the little smile that crosses your lips when you think about the moment he’d gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. It was probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. 

Beside you, Silco pretends to gag loudly. He’s gross. 

You’re just about to punch his leg as hard as you can in retaliation, but the exact moment you do, he reaches up to nervously push a hand through his hair. Except, he’s forgotten that he’s still holding the spatula, so instead he comically smacks himself in the face with it. 

Silco jolts backwards briefly before looking down at the utensil in his hand and you can just see the moment he remembers the food-

“Shit!”

He scrambles off the sofa and back into the kitchen, almost slipping on one of his own shoes in the process. 

“Idiot,” you mumble under your breath when he finally disappears from your line of sight. 

You cross your arms and slump back against the sofa, half in denial of the pout you know you’re sporting. That bone tiredness has been swiftly replaced with a strange, confusing feeling that you cannot for the life of you put a name to. 

Why would Silco care about who you go on a date with? If anything, you thought he’d be happy that you’re finally putting yourself out there. You know, exploring, having fun - something that isn’t just working and sleeping and yelling at Silco when he steals your tweezers. 

The sounds from the kitchen all cease in abrupt succession, silence ringing out when he finally steps back into the living room. 

His arms hang down awkwardly by his sides and he avoids eye contact with you, choosing instead to stare at the stain on the wall by the door. 

“Burnt it,” he announces sheepishly.

“Siiiiil,” you groan dramatically, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling as your arms drop heavily down against your thighs. “We can barely afford food as it is!”

“Oh, be quiet,” he hushes with a sneer. “I’ll give it to Vander when he gets back home and I’ll make us something else in a minute.”

Vander had been doing extra shifts in a pub most evenings, just to make sure you guys stayed in the green and didn’t lose the apartment or miss any unnecessary meals. Honestly, you have no idea how he does it after working all day in the mines. 

You roll your eyes at Silco but can’t find it in yourself to be truly mad. 

Instead of starting dinner again like he said he would, Silco carefully sits next to you on the sofa. You can tell he’s staring at you but you ignore him, keeping your gaze fixed on the window, eyes unfocused enough that all the neon lights blend together in a colourful swirl. 

It’s quiet for a little bit, bar the usual noise of the apartment building and Silco noisily fiddling with a clasp on his shirt, before he abruptly says out of the blue-

“You know, if you’re worried about not knowing how to kiss, you could always practise on me.”

A beat. Then you slowly tip your head sideways to look at him.

“What?”

“Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect,” he begins, making brief eye contact before darting away like he’s been caught. “And if you want to impress this Six guy-”

“Seven."

“Whatever, all I’m saying is, I can teach you how to kiss,” Silco insists, before adding just a little too nonchalantly, “You know, if you want to.”

If you weren’t so tired, you might have laughed at him. Or smacked him up the head. 

But you must really be exhausted because you do neither of those things, instead squinting at him as the cogs turn sluggishly in your brain.

He’s not… wrong, per se. Practising would make you feel more prepared for it if it happens on your date. 

“I mean, I guess so,” you admit to him slowly. 

You shift your body to the side and really, properly consider him for the first time, trying to imagine yourself kissing Silco. 

And just like that, your stomach erupts into butterflies and you suddenly have no idea what to do with your hands. (Funny, you didn’t feel like this earlier when you thought about kissing Seven…)

To his credit, Silco allows you to consider his offer in silence as you try to figure out what you want to do.

You can’t really argue with his logic. It would be good to know what you’re doing beforehand so you can impress Seven, or at the very least avoid embarrassing yourself.

And Silco is safe. You’ve known him practically your whole life and he’s never truly let you down yet. 

The more you think about it, the more it feels like a good idea. (And it seems to pass you by that by kissing Silco as a practice for your first kiss, Silco himself will be your first kiss…)

You shift your body to face him a bit more, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah,” you say with a croak, before clearing your throat and speaking again just a little more confidently. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks, searching your expression for any sign of hesitance. 

But you’re not hesitant. A little nervous, sure, but this is new, it’s normal to be nervous. 

You throw him a big smile hoping he understands. 

"Yep!" 

Silco offers you one of the softest smiles you’ve ever seen from him and it makes your chest feel all fluttery and nice. 

Then, he slides closer to you and gently takes your cheek in his hand. 

“What, l-like, right now?” you stutter, eyes nervously darting up to meet his. 

Silco freezes and his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“I mean, there’s no time like the present, right?” he says, waiting for your confirmation before moving any further. 

He just caught you off-guard, that’s all. It’s not everyday you kiss your best friend as practice for when you kiss your first ever boyfriend. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

You take roughly five seconds to fully prepare yourself - yes, this is actually going to happen - before shifting yourself to face him properly. 

“Okay. Ready now?” he asks, unable to hide the little smile working its way onto his lips. 

“Yep, ready,” you confirm, smiling back up at him as your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest.

Silco leans down slowly, his hand still gently cupping your face, and your eyes close instinctively, suddenly giddy as his nose brushes your cheek.

Then, he closes the gap and presses his lips to yours.

For a second or two, you just get used to the feeling of him. How his lips are somehow dry and soft at the same time. How he tastes of peppermint gum laced faintly with cigarette smoke, even though you’ve told him repeatedly that he should stop and who the hell’s he trying to impress anyway?

You only just have the presence of mind to purse your own lips against his when he pulls back from you (and you force yourself to ignore the disappointment of that being it).

Luckily for you, that is not it. 

“Okay, not bad, now I need you to move with me,” he says, licking his lips and pushing back his hair only for it to flop back to the exact same spot.

Huh?  

“Move… with you?” you ask as if you’re in a daze. 

“Yeah, like, move your head and lips a bit more. Just follow my lead,” he explains confidently, almost indifferently. “And you can use your hands if you want.”

“What?” 

Okay, you’re baffled now. What do hands have to do with kissing?

“You could put them around my shoulders, or… or in my hair,” Silco tells you, briefly avoiding eye contact as he mumbles out the latter. 

The bashful way he says it makes you think that’s what he prefers. 

“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to take it all in. "Move my head and lips, use my hands. Got it." 

This time you're the one to move closer to him, leaning up to place your hand along his jaw.

Silco joins you halfway, meeting your lips once more with a slow, chaste peck before he dives back in for more, this time a little bit deeper. 

He tilts his head a little and oh wow, that feels even better. 

You try to heed his advice, this time actively moving your lips against his. Silco must notice the change because he kisses you even harder, pressing forward until you sway back with the motion. 

A hand snakes around the nape of your neck, pulling you back to him and you think your heart swoops in your chest as he does. That same hand travels lightly down your spine, fingertips dancing along the back of your shirt, bringing out the most delightful shiver.

Fuck, you get it now.

Your own hands trail up from his jaw and slide smoothly into his hair, until your fingers accidentally get caught on a little knot in the strands, causing a rough little tug against his scalp.

And Silco groans, travelling from the back of his throat into your lips and it makes you jump back in surprise.

But he doesn’t let you go far, one hand darting to the back of your head to keep you close.

His lips brush against yours as you both breathe heavily, neither one of you wanting to move away. 

“Do you want to stop?” he says, voice husky and low.

A half second to catch your breath before a vehement- 

“No.”

And then he’s right back at it, kissing you even harder. Even more urgently. 

Now, his hands snake into your hair, tugging gently until you gasp at the pleasurable sensation spreading through you. 

Silco takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you’re immediately overwhelmed by the heat that floods your body. 

It feels like your hands have a mind of their own because without even telling them to, they’re suddenly gripping at Silco’s shoulders, then his cheeks, and then yanking the short hairs at the back of his head. 

The noise Silco makes this time can only be described as a moan, low and throaty, and just when you think you couldn’t feel any hotter, Silco grabs your waist with both hands and pulls you towards his lap. 

You straddle one of his thighs, knees pressing into the sofa, hovering slightly above him as you continue to kiss, an ache building within you every passing moment. 

Gods, what is this feeling? You swear you’ve never felt like this before, like you could keep kissing him forever. 

But you don’t because suddenly Silco’s hand moves up the back of your shirt to land on the small of your back, and the feeling of his hot skin on yours makes you squirm in his grasp, breaking your kiss once and for all.

You lean back to stare at him, jaw slack. 

Did that really all just happen? Did you really just kiss your best friend and like it so badly that you want to do it again?

You’re both breathless, chests heaving like you’ve just run a marathon. And while your jaw may be slack, Silco’s is actually slightly agape, his eyes half-lidded as he stares at you. 

Heart racing, it takes you a few seconds to realise that you have no idea what he’s thinking right now. 

You’ve never seen him look like this before and you’re a bit scared to know what that means. It’s like he’s never seen you before. 

Of course, that’s when the panic starts to set in because, what if you’ve upset him? What if you’ve ruined everything? 

Physically unable to stand the thought, you begin to clamber up from where you’re still straddling his thigh when his hands instinctively dart out to grab your waist, keeping you in place above him. 

You look down in shock and only then does he let you go, almost as quickly as he’d latched on.

Dropping down heavily onto the sofa, you make an attempt to get your breath back, but don’t quite manage to calm your racing heart as you stare at the floor, hands curled around the edge of the cushion below you. 

Usually, round about now, Silco would say something witty, or make fun of you, but instead he’s eerily silent, avoiding eye contact like it’s the plague. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

Fuck, you can’t take it anymore. 

“Well, uh, thanks for the lesson,” you say awkwardly, shuffling off the couch and standing up. 

You need to go for a shower or maybe scream into your pillow for a bit. But Silco stops you in your tracks, grabbing your hand before you can barely take a step. 

“I don’t think you should go on your date,” he blurts out, the first thing he’s said in nearly a whole minute. 

Your head swivels to look down at him. 

“What? Why?”

Silco dares to look at you for a scant second before his eyes dart away like he’s embarrassed. He drops your hand, clasping his hands together as if your touch burned him. 

“Uh, ‘cause I need your help putting that shelf up.” 

He nods to the piece of wood currently lying up against the wall across the room, where it’s been for the last six months. 

“And someone needs to be here in case our parcel gets delivered,” he continues. You think he might be trying to look casual, but honestly, the way he keeps running his hands through his hair makes him look more insane by the second. 

You’re so distracted by it, you forget to point out that you haven’t even told him what day you were planning to go on your date. 

“Silco,” you huff, frustrated. “Vander can help you with the shelf and Mrs Oliver can take the parcel if no-one is in.”

You’ve never seen the old lady next door leave the apartment once in your entire time living here. 

“I still think you should stay in,” Silco insists. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air. “Putting up a shelf and taking in a parcel doesn’t take a whole evening!”

His whole body language shifts as he changes tack. 

“Where’s he taking you anyway?” 

“I don’t know, he said it’s a surprise.”

Silco’s response is immediate. 

“That sounds really dodgy,” he exaggerates. “Maybe I should come with you just to be safe.”  

Okay, maybe that’s what this is all about. Maybe he’s just being overprotective and trying to look out for you. You can deal with that. 

“Silco, I’ll be fine, I know how to look after myself,” you try to reassure him. 

“Yeah, but I don’t like the thought of you going somewhere I don’t know with a complete stranger. It’ll be safer if I come as a chaperone, I know how to handle things,” he tries to say wisely. It comes across a little bit smug.  

“You can’t even cook dinner without burning it to a crisp,” you point out. 

“It isn’t burnt to a crisp,” he hisses. “And that was your fault anyway for distracting me.”

Alright, that’s it. 

You put your hands on the back of the sofa and lean over him slowly, Silco mirrors the action as he leans back with you, his eyes widening as his hand clutch the sides of his trousers until his knuckles turn bone white. 

Your voice drops, low and (hopefully) threatening.

“Silco. I don’t care what you say, I’m going on my date. Alone,” you say defiantly. There’s a brief pause where you realise that statement is nonsensical, so you add, “With Seven.”

His awestruck expression melts into a scowl, but you don’t wait for his rebuttal, pushing yourself off the sofa back and straightening up, ready to walk out the room. 

“Where are you going?” Silco calls, slightly breathless for some reason.

“For a shower,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I used up all the hot water,” he says back. 

You’re far too frustrated to think of a reply so instead you just huff and stomp out of the room, leaving him to stare after you, as you wonder what the hell just happened.

[ink-and-dagger]

Remember in Drink With Me Chapter 9 when they get hammered and Silco smiles at Astrid?

Yeah. That’s the one.

🖤

[dontyoufeelitangel]

When I first saw the mural, I thought they were celebrating Jinx’s explosions on topside. That the explosions were a sign of rebellion and destruction towards topside, and that’s why they were included in the mural. That this mural was a sign of victory for Zaun.

But those “explosions” weren’t explosions at all. It was gas and smog. They represent not violence or destruction, but freedom. Freedom is also noted from the doves flying and Jinx’s holding up her right fist. The gas in the mural is so important because it was literally was the only thing keeping the people of the under city from breathing. Jinx is the reason that clean/breathable air was brought back to Zaun.

And because of that courageous act, they put her on a mural, with Vander. Zaunites think so highly of Jinx that they put her on a mural with the last person they felt freedom with, Vander.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Shared

You catch Silco's eye at The Last Drop, but he isn't the only one interested in you.

Silco x fem!reader x Sevika

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Clubs, predator/prey vibes, sex, interrupted sex, minor voyeurism, threesomes, anal fingering, double penetration, anal sex, sex toy use.

Masterlist

---

You were on a bed, sandwiched between two warm bodies. You were trying to stay afloat in the wash of touches, your body stretching in ways it never had before. With the all-encompassing sensations, you were struggling to remember exactly how you had gotten to this point. 

You hadn’t been drugged or anything. That much needed to be said, especially somewhere like The Last Drop. But no, the fuzziness of the evening had started from the first time you had caught the Shimmer-glowing eye of Silco himself, and you were drunk on everything that had happened since.

Catching Silco’s attention wasn’t something you had set out to do. Just the thought would have made you dizzy with nervousness and intimidation. Those weren’t emotions you had very often. Growing up in the deepest shadows cast by Piltover had left you with the distinct impression that there was no further you could sink. 

And there were always predators in the deep. 

When you had first noticed that mismatched gaze fixed on you, you had put on your best blank expression. Every Undercity resident worth their air knew that Silco wasn’t someone to fuck with. And if he had decided that he didn’t like the look of you, it would be better to leave The Last Drop before he had a chance to kick you out personally. 

Admittedly, he would be more likely to send his second-in-command, Sevika, to get rid of you. That didn’t make it any more pleasant, though she was easily as attractive as he was - just with a different sort of danger. 

In any case, you lost sight of him after that, though you couldn’t help but scan the crowds regularly for a sight of that glowing eye. Every time you didn’t see it, you relaxed a little more, though you couldn’t help recognizing that there was a part of yourself that rode a wave of disappointment. 

Silco was known for being dangerous, but he was also undeniably handsome. That trim body and sharp fashion sense were paired with the keenest wit the Undercity had seen in decades, and he used it to his best advantage. Silco could take apart his enemies with a few well-placed words and a single command to his army of followers. 

And he fucked.

Very few people could claim the distinction of having been with the Eye of Zaun, but everyone seemed to have a story about the time their friend’s older sibling’s cousin had spent a few glorious hours in the chem-baron’s company. 

You would be willing to dismiss those stories as urban legends, a simple desire to make Silco’s power personal by having it exercised over you directly, but the stories all shared a few too many details. Firstly, they almost always started with someone catching Silco’s eye in The Last Drop. 

Second, he was always very much in charge. It wasn’t something you would struggle to believe. If Silco was going to hook up with a stranger, it was only smart to make sure he was in control of the situation, if only to keep from being double-crossed. 

Third, the person was never contacted again after their initial encounter with Silco. If they met him somewhere else, he was cool and indifferent toward them. It was clear that he was interested in short-term pleasure, not long-term commitment. 

There were a few other factors that featured in most stories, but they weren’t entirely consistent and you didn’t count them. For instance, a lot of stories had Sevika involved, but not all of them. Some listed favorite positions or toys that were used, but those reports were so varied as to be pointless. 

Overall, you considered the stories a fascinating look at how folklore supported shadowy figures in the Undercity. It was an interesting way to pass your time, even if it felt a bit voyeuristic. But you were simply interested in a major Undercity player, and found the pursuit of trends in stories a good indicator of that. You were watching solely as an academic exercise, not from any personal interest. 

That was why you had regularly chosen to drink at the Drop for the past few months. The only reason.

Still, despite the stories - nay, Silco’s sexual exploits had reached the level of legend - you hadn’t expected to actually make eye contact with Silco himself. Even then, your tipsy-but-watchful demeanor hadn’t been enough to see him a second time. 

Perhaps it had been a fluke. You weren’t stupid enough to think it had been anyone other than Silco, but you were also willing to concede that he probably observed the goings-on of The Last Drop. It wasn’t impossible that he had been watching the crowd at the same moment that you had been looking around. Still, there was something about the way his gaze had slowly slid away from yours that made you think he had been watching you for a while.

And you had to consider the tingling feeling of being watched, dancing invisible fingertips between your shoulder blades.

But you hadn’t seen Silco again. Not until you had gone to the bar. The bartender had slid you a drink before you had even ordered, directing you to a hallway that led from one side of the room. There, you found a staircase, and the door at the top had been unlocked…

When you opened the door and stepped into the darkened room beyond, Silco had been inside. You couldn’t claim to be completely surprised - who else would have a bedroom in The Last Drop? 

You also weren’t stupid enough to believe that the room was actually where Silco slept. No, the bed was ridiculously big and the shelves against the walls held a variety of lascivious-looking toys. This was clearly where Silco hooked up with people from his club. 

That, at least, ended up being correct. Silco had shared a drink with you, telling you bluntly that he was interested in fucking you that night. He asked if you were interested in that, too. Your immediate and resounding ‘yes’ was embarrassing, but he only gave a small smirk and told you to finish your drink while you discussed preferences and limits. 

When that was settled, you found yourself on that giant mattress, flat on your back under him as he ravaged your mouth. He explored you thoroughly, taking control so casually and naturally that it only seemed to make sense. 

And then he was inside of you, pushing himself deep as you arched your back and cried out for him. Your voice was loud in the room - too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was thick and hot, and you could feel him throbbing. Or maybe you were the one throbbing, your inner muscles working around him as your body tried to decide whether to pull him deeper or push him out of you entirely. 

Just as you were beginning to relax around and under him, a loud bang made you jump. You couldn’t see much from under the canopy of Silco’s body, but you managed to spy that the door was now open. More importantly, someone was standing inside. 

“Scoop told me to come find you- Oh.” 

The voice was low and rough, so much so that it took a moment for you to realize that it was female. And there was only one person you could think of who wouldn’t be apologizing profusely by this point: Sevika. 

To your mingled surprise and embarrassment, Sevika stepped around the bed until she could see you more clearly past Silco’s shielding body. Her lips curved into a sardonic smirk as her dark eyes wandered over every bit of you visible in your current position. 

“Nice going, boss,” Sevika congratulated lowly. “If you didn’t wreck that pretty pussy, I was gonna do it myself.”

Your breath caught at that, the muscles of your core fluttering at the unexpected filth. 

Silco rolled his hips, pressing further into you and driving a gasp from your lungs. “Mmm, she liked that. And, as it happens, I’ve already started working on ruining her.”

“Everything I’ve seen so far seems pretty tame,” Sevika said with a scoff. “I think you’re losing your touch. Maybe you should let an expert take over.” 

Silco bared his teeth, holding your hips tight against his to keep himself buried deep as he rolled. When you were on top, still laying with your chest pressed to his, Silco raised his eyebrows at Sevika. “I am the expert here. If you don’t believe me, perhaps you should see for yourself.” 

Sevika grinned, teeth flashing brightly in her smile. Her lightning-quick wink was the last thing you saw before she stepped out of view once more. 

When you would have turned your head to keep her in view, Silco gripped your chin and held it steady to press a kiss to your lips. When he let you pull away, he murmured, “Pay attention. You’ll hurt my pride.” 

The feeling of his chest rubbing against your stiffened nipples made your eagerness surge, but the sharp gasp was pulled from you by a different sensation: fingertips running upward along one side of your entrance, trailing around where Silco’s length had you spread wide around him. You couldn’t help a squirming shiver when that touch traveled up and between your cheeks. 

“Sensitive little thing, isn’t she?” Sevika asked, a warm chuckle rumbling through her voice.

“If you could feel her the way I can, you would not need to ask.” Silco punctuated it with a pulse of his hips that made you gasp and cling to him. 

Normally, this was not your kind of thing. You preferred to be an active partner in your sexual encounters, and the fact that most of the comments being tossed around were pointedly not directed toward you should have made you nervous. Probably would have in any other situation, if you were being honest. 

But you felt exposed like this, knowing someone was watching. Someone who had plainly stated that she was also interested in your body. That, combined with the knowledge of how dangerous both of them were, kept you calm as they spoke around you rather than including you in the conversation. You felt as if you were slowly turning into a pile of flesh and nerves, able to do nothing but limply receive the pleasure you were offered. 

Somehow, it was working for you.

“But you have yet to tell me,” Silco continued, giving another lazy thrust that made you squirm down onto him more firmly. “How does she look?” 

“Needy. Hot. Desperate. Sexy,” Sevika said with a hum. Her attention was still between your legs as she scattered adjectives through the conversation. She played idly with you and - if you were to guess from his low growl - with Silco as well. Her fingers pulled you wider, as if testing how far your folds would spread. “The only way she’ll look better is dripping with cum, too fucked-out to move.”

You were listening intently to her, but a sound in the room made it hard to focus. It was only when they both chuckled that you realized the sound was a whine, coming from between your own parted lips.

“I can think of something else that may be better still,” Silco mused. His voice sounded teasing, but he didn’t continue. The silence felt heavy, weighed down with expectation and more than a hint of anticipation. 

Silco’s hand smoothed over your temple, making you twitch with surprise. You glanced up to find him watching you. “What do you think, pet? Shall we invite Sevika to join us?” 

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t want to risk trying and failing to speak, so you settled for a fervent nod. Silco’s lips curled as he glanced behind you. There was a knowing light glowing in his mismatched eyes, but they were aimed at Sevika, not you. 

“Where do you want me?” Even Sevika’s low voice and brusque tone couldn’t disguise her interest. There was a stab of satisfaction in your gut - you may have been needy, but she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to seem. 

"Hmm…" Silco drawled, tracing circles on your skin that made you shiver. "If we truly want to ruin her, there would seem to be an obvious choice." 

His touch lifted your chin once more, pulling your touch-drunk gaze toward his. With that orange eye burning deep into your mind and soul, Silco asked, "Shall Sevika and I share you? Take you at the same time?" 

You nodded again, but Silco stared harder. "And has your lovely rear ever taken anything before?" 

Feeling inexplicably disappointed in yourself and your past sexual partners, you slowly shook your head. 

"And would you like to try?" 

Your eyes snapped back to Silco's face, core throbbing. "Yes, I would." 

Silco's lips curled into a pleased and slightly predatory smile. 

Behind you, Sevika barked a laugh. "She can still speak." The chill of metal fingers against the side of your face made your eyes flutter closed. "We'll fix that." 

"Get harnessed," Silco ordered, and Sevika's artificial touch disappeared from you. "Use the smallest toy. I want her ruined, not destroyed." 

Even as your body gave a throb, clearly of the opinion that it wouldn't mind either way, Sevika said, "I’ll get ready. You keep doing what you were doing."

Silco took her at her word. He started slow, guiding your hips up and down on his length. When you had found the right combination of movements on your part and the right amount of Silco thrusting into you from below, your pace naturally built back to where it had been before. 

The sound of your panting breaths filled the room, pairing chaotically with the sounds of sex. You had almost forgotten about Sevika entirely in the sprint toward your impending orgasm. But Silco stopped you with a steady press of fingers against your hips, his attention moving to something behind you. When he gave an approving smile, you glanced back as well. 

Sevika was standing behind you, baring more skin than you could remember seeing her display. Her muscular arms were on full show, leading up to broad, strong shoulders. She was wearing a black breastband, but it could hardly contain the rounded swells of her breasts and your mouth watered at the idea of seeing them without any cover at all. Her abdomen was taut, a hint of muscle definition casting shadows on the flat expanse of her stomach. There was a suggestion of a rounded lower belly that made you itch to touch Sevika’s dusky skin, but that bit of softness was covered by a pair of black, form-fitting boxers. 

When your eyes finally fell between Sevika’s legs, you could see that the boxers doubled as a harness. The toy held in place by the boxers was also black, and you struggled to pick out its edges against the darkness of the background. Sevika helped you - perhaps inadvertently - as she worked the short shaft, coating it with shining lube. 

You watched her fist the toy, laying a thick coat of slippery gel over the surface. Your mouth was dry, but you did your best to pretend that you weren’t utterly entranced by the sight. 

Silco gave a rumbling laugh, and it buzzed pleasantly through you. “Like what you see, pet? Do you think you can take her?” 

Sevika smirked at you, hand spreading open between the toy and the boxers so you could see it more clearly. It was… smaller than expected. 

“That’s it?” you asked, cringing at yourself a moment later. 

Sevika laughed out loud. “For your first time? It’s plenty, trust me. Anything bigger and we really would destroy you.” 

You smiled back, but Silco was already moving on. “Sevika is going to prepare you. I want your eyes on me.” 

When you turned back to face the man beneath you, Silco nodded slowly. “One moment.” 

Silco’s hands were firm around your hips. He used the leverage of them to spear himself as far into you as he could get, pressing deep and deeper until there wasn’t a fraction of space between your pelvis and his. Your mouth had fallen open somewhere along the line as you dealt with the flood of sensations, but he wasn’t done. 

His palms slid up either side of your spine, pulling you forward until you were lying flat against him again, your breasts crushed to his chest and his length shifting oddly inside of you. You weren’t sure what look you were wearing when you stared down at him from inches away, but the pupil of Silco’s green eye was blown wide and you thought you would drown in the darkness of it. 

Sevika’s touch made you jump just a bit, but it was enough to pull you free of the trap in Silco’s gaze. She must have been touching you with her metal arm, since her hand was cool and firm against you. She found the place where your spine met your ass, the spot where the sway of your spine rose past your tailbone and into the swell of your hips. 

When her hand was on that anchoring spot, Sevika pressed down. It wasn’t painful, even with the unyielding metal of her replacement arm. However, it did lock you in place against Silco, holding you steady even when you tried to squirm at the feeling of him inside of you. 

The feeling of warm, slippery fingers came a moment later - hardly a surprise, even as a gasp fought to escape you. That touch traveled closer and closer to the center of your ass, working its way toward that secret place hidden between your lower cheeks. 

She quickly found your rear entrance and pressed a finger against it. You made an inhuman sound at the firm touch even as you fought to wiggle your hips closer. When her hand on you and Silco’s anchoring grip made that impossible, you settled for arching your back to give her better access. 

Sevika laughed, and the sound warmed your face. “Responsive. I like her already.” 

“Just wait,” Silco told her lazily. “She’s the best I’ve had in some time. Not overly chatty, either.” 

“Just the way you like ‘em,” Sevika remarked. Her fingers playing against the small of your back made you shudder - or perhaps that was the way her other hand was poised and ready to breach you. When Sevika spoke again, her voice was closer to you, as if she had leaned in. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some sounds outta you either way.” 

Somehow, you managed a halfway sexy laugh. "Promises, promises." 

A firm slap to your ass took your breath away. It was a good spank, but it also forced you further into Silco's cock and ground your clit against his pelvis. 

"Sevika," Silco's voice lashed lowly through the room. "Enough teasing." 

As if to prove his own point, Silco used his grip on your hips to pull you up off of him and slam you back down. The suddenness of it made it all the more intense, and you started riding him without any further prompting.

"We'll start you off slowly," Silco said, offering a nod past you. 

A cool drop of liquid landed just above the crack of your ass, sliding slowly downward. The first drop was followed by another and another, until the slippery gel had started working its way down to your heated core. 

Searching fingers slipped between your cheeks and you tensed reflexively. Sevika's voice was low and close as she said, "Relax."

That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not with her touching what she was getting ready to, but you made an effort anyway. The tension drained slowly from your muscles, and you were so focused that you hadn't noticed the way Silco had stopped moving again.

His hands traveled upward to splay across your back once more, holding you steady as one of Sevika's fingers found your rear entrance and began to press against it. 

Your vision seemed to dim. Not from the sensation itself - though that was certainly a source of interest - but because you were concentrating so hard on the way it felt that you weren’t fully using your eyes anymore. Beyond a vague recognition that Silco was watching you closely, all of your focus was on something you couldn’t see. 

With the lube that was coating you, Sevika’s finger provided almost no friction. If not for the press of her knuckles against the softness of your cheeks, you would hardly know what she was doing. Her finger was equally slick (you suspected it had been coated with a fresh sheen of lubrication), but far more noticeable with the way it pressed against you. 

Your entrance braced against the intrusion, fighting to keep it out. As the pressure increased against you, you drew tighter and tighter. Silco made a surprised noise at the way your inner muscles squeezed around him. It was quiet, but just enough to distract you. You relaxed as you glanced at Silco, and that was all it took for Sevika’s finger to breach you. 

Naturally, you tensed. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Not uncomfortable, but different in a way that stole your focus. That ring of muscle seemed to stretch impossibly wide around the invader, and that feeling only grew as more and more of her finger sank into you. 

“You’re a fool not to take her ass yourself,” Sevika informed Silco. “She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Perhaps I consider the privilege a reward for your excellent work,” Silco countered. “Besides, she is strangling my cock now. I think this will prove pleasurable for both of us. And even more so for our lovely guest.” 

Sevika hummed in agreement, the fingers of her free hand dancing over the small of your back. “If she can walk after this, we haven’t done enough.” 

With a twisting motion, Sevika curled her finger all the way into you, stopping only when her knuckles were pressing against the cheeks of your ass. The noise you made was short and sharp, an audible expression of your pleasure. 

“Are her eyes crossing yet?” Sevika asked. 

Silco caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, carefully turning your face from side to side. “I do not believe so, but we have plenty of time. Sevika will keep her finger in you, pet, while we resume our activities. I want you used to taking something in two places at once before we start in earnest.” 

It wasn’t a question - no part of it had been, but you nodded anyway. Silco grabbed your hips again, guiding you in a new rhythm. He stayed deep inside of you, his tip never quite leaving your core even as he thrust. You picked up the pattern and started to follow it eagerly. There was a different dimension to the pleasure with something in your ass. 

Sevika followed your movements with her hand, keeping her finger buried in you. It spurred you on, adding spice to every thrust as you adjusted to being stretched in two places. 

A warmth at your back warned that Sevika was leaning in again. “Let’s take him apart.”

Your movements stuttered when her finger started to move inside of you, but she didn’t start to fuck you with it. Instead, she curled the digit, timing each curl perfectly to catch Silco’s tip at every thrust.

Silco’s brows furrowed, a harsh curse leaving him. He picked up speed when yours faltered, holding the rhythm even when you were completely distracted by the feeling of Sevika pressing against the thin wall that separated her from Silco. 

At last - and long after your brain had melted entirely - Silco seemed to have had enough. With his chipped teeth bared, he hissed, “Sevika. Take her.” 

The abrupt feeling of Sevika’s finger sliding from you made you gasp. She and Silco both chuckled, though Silco’s voice sounded a little strained. 

“Ready?” Sevika asked, ducking forward so you could see her without straining your neck. Her eyes seemed even darker, excitement sharpening her features. You could only nod in silent agreement. 

Her hands pressed you forward against Silco’s chest once more. You felt them travel down slowly, teasing where you and the chem baron were joined. Her touch dipped briefly lower and Silco cursed again. “Focus, Sevika.” 

As if enticing her to do exactly that, Silco grabbed as much of your ass as he could possibly hold, spreading your cheeks wide as your face went hot. Sevika’s hastily stifled groan eased your embarrassment, but your breathing had picked up and you were fighting not to push back toward her. 

A metal hand against the base of your spine drew your attention from your own eagerness for a moment. “Keep relaxed for me,” Sevika urged. 

It was an impossible thing to ask, but you did your best as she placed the tip of her toy against your ass. You felt your eyes widen as she started to push into you. 

You had seen the toy. It was small, almost laughably so. But now, it felt immense against your rear entrance. As it started to spear into you, it seemed to stretch you impossibly wide. The intrusion burned slightly, even with the generous amounts of lube that coated both you and the toy, and you would have shifted away from it if Silco weren’t holding you so tightly. 

Your mouth opened, ready to call things off and walk away, but there was a slight popping sensation that made you jolt. “Head’s in.” 

Sevika’s explanation answered your unasked question, but you couldn’t acknowledge her verbally. The steady slide of the toy into you was smooth and inevitable, your body letting it in with minimal struggle. 

The firm press of her boxer-clad hips against your ass made you jump again, but Sevika’s hands smoothed down your sides. “Doin’ good for me, pretty girl. We’re gonna stay like this for a minute.” 

You nodded, agreeing to yet another thing that hadn’t truly been a question. Slowly, Silco urged you to sit upright on him. You winced at the feeling of being stretched in two places, but it wasn’t painful. Silco wasn’t a small man and it was always odd to move this way with someone inside of you. Sevika’s toy was small, but it was odd and different enough to make you double-check every sensation to see whether it was good or bad. 

Sevika started things, gently massaging your breasts from behind. Her touch was gentle but insistent, bringing your body back to eagerness. Silco joined in soon afterward, focusing his attention between your legs. His nimble fingers teased your folds around where he was speared and further back, but most of his attention was fixed on your clit. 

Your lips parted as your breathing picked up. Silco and Sevika’s motions synced up, and Sevika’s fingers rolled your nipple just as Silco gave your clit a firm rub. You moaned aloud, head tipping forward in time to see a smirk spread over Silco’s face. 

“It sounds as if our pet is ready to be fucked,” he remarked conversationally to Sevika. “Shall we?” 

“Hmm…” Sevika hedged, rolling her hips against your ass as she thought. The motion knocked you off-balance, pushing you forward along Silco’s cock and spearing you back onto both of them when you corrected your position. You let out a plaintive sound. “How can I resist when she sounds like that?”

“Are you ready?” Silco asked, grabbing your chin once more. 

That grip kept you from nodding. With your three functional brain cells, you managed, “Yes. Please.”

“Please,” Sevika repeated, amused. “You don’t have to beg. Yet.” 

And then they started to move. The first few thrusts were disjoined, leaving you tossed back and forth between them like a toy boat in a storm. But they found a devastating rhythm soon enough. Silco pumped in and out of you, using his length to best advantage. Sevika had less of a shaft to work with, but she focused her energy on giving a little swivel of her hips with every stroke. The combination was lethal. 

It seemed that you had just started when your body tightened. Tension was screaming through every muscle, warning that you were only moments away from utterly imploding. 

“I- I’m–” you stammered, someone taking the words from your lips before you could get any further than a single word into your warning. 

“We know,” Silco said, smugness written across his face. 

“Surprised you made it this long,” Sevika agreed. 

You decided that the best revenge would be to come. Your body wasn’t waiting for permission from your brain, but the timing was great - no sooner had you made your decision than every muscle in your body locked down. 

Colors burst behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm you’d ever had roared through you. You had always imagined going through a hex-gate would be like that: an all-encompassing experience that robbed you of every sense until you were through. Of course, if the hex-gates felt anywhere near as amazing as it did to come on Silco and Sevika’s cocks, you would understand the exorbitant prices for passage. 

If not for Silco’s hands on your hips and Sevika’s arms around your torso, you would have stopped moving entirely, other than to collapse forward. Somehow, they kept you upright, even when they edged you toward overstimulation. 

Silco let out a low, wordless growl as he fucked up into you hard for a thrust, then two. When he was buried as far into you as he could possibly get, he came. The condom he wore kept you from feeling its heat, but his staccato pounding pushed you into a strong aftershock. 

He was almost pretty like that, you reflected, watching Silco writhe beneath you. Fierce, of course, and always imposing, but somehow pretty. Maybe it was the way his eyes flashed, or how his face narrowed even more with the intensity of his pleasure. Or maybe it was the way his jaw dropped, a helpless sound of pleasure leaving him even as his brow crinkled with irritation at his own vulnerability. 

Eventually, Silco lay slack on the bed, watching you and Sevika as his cock slowly softened inside of you. You were still pushed forward and back on him, moving slightly with Sevika’s thrusts. It felt inappropriate somehow, having your ass fucked while you were watched by the man you had started the night with. But Silco seemed unbothered, tracing lazy circles against your hips as he held you still to receive Sevika’s thrusts. 

You could come again this way, you decided idly. Anal was a slower build to orgasm than you were used to, but it was certainly more powerful when it got there. 

“Close yet?” Silco asked eventually. It could have sounded impatient or jealous, but his tone was nothing more than curious. 

“Close,” Sevika confirmed. “It’s a smaller hilt than I would have wanted.” 

“Did you choose the one that vibrates?” 

You couldn’t see Sevika’s expression, but there was something close to glee in her voice as she said, “Forgot about that, but yeah.” 

“Allow me,” Silco offered valiantly. He reached to grab something from a nearby table, and then you were too busy writhing to worry about what he was holding. 

Sevika’s toy buzzed violently in your ass, and you were choking on air at the unexpected sensation. You could only squirm with the surprise of it, but when you had regained some control of your muscles, your instincts hijacked your brain. The only thing you could do was lean forward onto hands you had planted against Silco’s chest, pulling away and thrusting yourself back onto Sevika’s toy as quickly as you could manage. 

Between your sudden eagerness and Sevika’s continued thrusting, the toy pulled free of and punched back in far more often than it had up to that point. A small, almost silent part of you recognized that the ache would be fierce the next day, but that concern was overwhelmed by the vast majority of you that insisted this was necessary. You needed to come again. If you didn’t, you would die. 

At last, Sevika gave a sharp, staccato cry and buried her face in your neck. The flexing of her hips buried the toy as far inside of you as it could get. The buzzing brought you to a small but powerful second orgasm. You reveled in every second of it, even as Silco turned off the toy’s vibrations and soreness immediately set in. 

Sevika pulled out of you, and the resulting motion of your hips allowed Silco to slide free as well. You collapsed on the surface of the bed, your fall cushioned by blankets and the arms of the two strangers you’d had sex with.

They started a low conversation above you as you throbbed and basked in the afterglow. Either they were speaking too quietly for you to hear or your brain wasn’t quite capable of processing speech yet. Either way, you were largely left to your own thoughts. 

You hadn’t watched Sevika come. That was the only part of the experience you regretted. Silco was beautiful when he came, and you were willing to bet that Sevika had been the same. Unfortunately, she had been behind you and there were no mirrors that you could see. You felt cheated, almost, robbed of the chance to see a strong, stunning woman brought to her knees with pleasure from your body. 

But you couldn’t truly complain. The rest of the night had been incredible. Silco truly deserved to have so many people talking about his talents in the bedroom. If he had orchestrated the whole scenario - and you strongly suspected that he had - he was both a master manipulator and someone with a keen need for pleasure. 

Yes, if you were only going to get one chance at this, you were satisfied in how things had played out. And you had been with both Silco and Sevika! Two of the most dangerous people in the Undercity had let you share their bed, and they had cared enough about your pleasure to be sure that you came twice. 

Now, you had your own story to share… but you didn’t think you would. This felt like something to keep quiet and close, to treasure for the rest of your life. And, of course, to get off to when you were feeling particularly lonely or needy. 

“Is she wrecked enough for your tastes?” 

Silco’s quiet question was the first thing you had understood in quite some time, and you realized with a start that he was talking about you.

“Mmhmm,” Sevika hummed, sounding wickedly satisfied. “Look at her.” 

Since they were sitting at the right angle to be staring at your sensitive core, you didn’t bother to keep your eyes open. You were tempted to be shy, but sleep was calling louder and louder. They had made a mess of you, after all. They could look at that mess if they liked. 

“I would like to try her mouth next time,” Silco added, almost absently. 

Sevika let out a short laugh. “Works for me. I wanna bury my tongue in that pussy until she’s sobbing.” 

“We’ll have to do this again soon,” Silco agreed. 

You could hardly believe your ears, but even your excitement couldn’t keep you awake. You faded into soft and filthy dreams, the words ‘next time’ echoing in your ears as you went.

---

Author's Note - The reader character does and says a lot less than I'm used to writing, so my apologies for that. Honestly, this was fueled by scraps of a weird dream after I had too much wine one night. My excuse is that it was a very overwhelming dream for an ace-spectrum writer, so I just got it all down on paper as soon as I could!

Thanks for reading!

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter two

Chapter warnings: sexual tension, manipulation, threatening, angst, drinking, smoking, mentions of age gap relationship, reader is a brothel owner, probably ooc Sevika, reader being uncomfortable with unwanted sexual attention (not from Sevika)

Sevika sits back on Silco’s plush couch with a cigarette between her lips and a grim, expectant look on her face. Her robotic arm cradles a crystal glass filled to the brim with bourbon, the good kind that Silco had to have extracted from Piltover and only offers her when he wants to soften the blow of an oncoming conversation. 

“I heard about your run in with the Madame yesterday” Silco speaks slowly and with narrowed eyes as he lights his cigar, analysing her every move and reaction with the intent of finding out the cause of her actions

Sevika wills herself not to bristle at the mention of you, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a deep swig of the bourbon, using the burning sensation of the liquid to excuse her long silence.

“Nothing I couldn't handle” Sevika answers nonchalantly, hoping that Silco would drop the subject so she could leave and beat whoever ratted on her to a fucking pulp.

“Heard that you stopped young Peter from attacking the Madame while she was vulnerable” Silco states calmly with a arched brow as he blows out the smoke from his cigar 

“I did” Sevika admits as her mind quickly comes up with a satisfactory excuse to appease him “I assumed you wouldn’t want us to lose the chance for a partnership over something unimportant”

“A sign of disrespect to you is a direct disrespect to me when you're out representing my business” Silco shoots back with an unimpressed expression, not particularly happy about his second in commands excuses “seems pretty important to me, considering you’ve never tolerated it before”

Sevika stays silent as her hand grips her drink before she takes another large gulp, knowing she’d been caught out. Her eyes flick up to Silcos as his gaze bores into the side of her skull.

Silco lets out a sigh as he massages his temple with two fingers, leaning back in his chair with a clear look of annoyance at the situation. 

“I understand you and the Madame had a….. Friendship before she took over Emeralds brothel” Silco speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully

“Friendship” Sevika thinks to herself as she internally scoffs “if that's what he wants to call it”

“But i didn't make you my number two because of your affection for others” Silco continues with a sarcastic tone “i did it because of your ruthlessness and loyalty to Zaun, your loyalty to me as your boss and your friend”

Sevika stubs her cigarette out in the Jinx personalised ashtray on Silco’s coffee table, choosing to stay silent and accept her scolding.

“She’s denied our men entry and use of her brothel, refused my congratulations for her new title as Madame, refused my various invitations to meetings to discuss business partnerships and now disrespecting my people in people” Silco lists off with an irritated expression “She can’t keep disrespecting the chain of command without consequence, she needs to be leashed”

“I know, sir” Sevika breathed out through a defeated sigh, she knew he was right. She had been excusing your actions for a long time now, protecting you subtly from the shadows because of the guilt that weighed heavily on her heart and prevented her from sleeping at night. 

Silco lets out a deep sigh as he leans back and smokes his cigar with a concentrated face before blowing out the smoke and tilting his head in an almost curious manner.

“Maybe it's best if I handle this one and pay the new madame a visit” Silco suggests almost experimentally “if its too much-”

“I’ll handle it” Sevika speaks up quickly and firmly, eager to ensure that Silco stays separate from you “I’ll talk to her, warn her against doing anything else”

“It won’t be too much?” Silco asks almost condescendingly, testing to see how far he could push her until she snaps

“No, sir” Sevika speaks through gritted teeth as she downs her drink and stands, wanting to escape the conversation desperately “I’ll visit her at her brothel and give her a warning”

Silco looks at her with observant eyes and an arched brow before sighing and waving his hand to dismiss her from his scolding. Sevika doesn't waste her time in taking up his offer as she quickly makes her way to the door.

“Very well” Silco agrees in an almost bored tone as he watches her leave “see that it's handled”

Sevika only lets out a breath as the door closes behind her, leaving her standing alone outside Silco’s office. An exhausted look takes place on her face as her eyes wander to the small couch beside the office door, intended for people to wait on until Silco could see them. 

Her eyes move onto the empty other side of the door, the image forcing memories to worm their way to the front of her mind. She scoffs and sighs before shaking her head and beginning her journey to your brothel, trying to tamper the slight excitement in her bones at the prospect of talking to you.

——————————-past———————————

Sevika’s mind had been stuck on you and your oddly charming self since that night at the bar. She’d even gone as far as frequenting it more often in an attempt to spot you again. Unfortunately you’d managed to slip through her fingers as it seemed she couldn't find you anywhere.

Which is why she felt so confused at finding you waiting outside her boss’s office, leaning against the wall facing the door casually. You looked much more polished this time, cleaner without the muck covering your face and your hair tied back in an updo manner instead of being frazzled around your head. You were dressed differently too, your clothing much less casual and slightly more revealing but quite youthful compared to the dirty rags you were wearthat night at the bar. 

“What are you doing here all dressed up?” she asks as she leans on the wall next to you, attempting to spook you slightly but you simply turn your head and look up at her.

“Thought I’d see you somewhere around here” you state calmly as you look up at her and lock your eyes with hers

“Astute observation” Sevika scoffs out with a sarcastic tone “why are you here?”

“Madame Emerald has a meeting with Silco today and asked me to come with her” you answer as you nod your head in the direction of the office to show that the two were already in there.

“You're working for Emerald today?” Sevika asks and you nod “that why you're dressed like that?”

“Madame likes to make sure I look presentable” you say with a shrug, a hint of a fond smile on your lips.

“Presentable huh?” Sevika asks as her eyes travel up and down your body “she got you working the floor like that?”

“I don’t do brothel work” you point out, the smile dropping from your face “i told you that”

“Kid, you don’t think I actually believe that do you?” Sevika asks with a smug tone and a disbelieving expression

You don’t reply to her prodding and teasing, simply rolling your eyes and scoffing. This only spurs Sevika on as she leans closer to your face so that you can feel her hot breath on your cheek.

“What, no reply?” She continues to tease with a raised brow and a mocking tone “and i thought you were all clever and confident?”

“Your men are coming” you state challengingly as you pick up the sounds of clumsy footsteps “do you really want them to see you like this with me?”

Sevika rolls her eyes with a scoff as she takes a step back from you, creating some distance between the two of you.

Sure enough, two of Silco’s men come stumbling around the corner seconds later and passing the two of you. They slow down slightly at the sight of you, smirks and crude whispers exchanged between the two of them as they approach you.

You look away with a slightly uncomfortable look on your face, crossing your arms around yourself almost in an attempt to self soothe and make yourself disappear. This seemingly pleases the two men who let out cruel laughs at your reaction.

They quickly shut up though, when sevika is spotted next to you with an absolutely deadly glare. She steps slightly in front of you as they get closer, her poncho dangling just in front of your hand as you feel tempted to grab the soft fabric.

The two men trip over themselves as they scurry away as quickly as possible. Sevika scoffs and rolls her as she returns to her previous position next to you against the wall.

“Fucking idiots” she mumbles her breath with a sigh

“They’re yours and Silco’s men” you point out, slightly surprised at her harsh words.

“So?” Sevika scoffs out with an obvious tone “Stupid’s stupid no matter what side they’re on”

You let out a chuckle at her blunt words,covering your smiling mouth with your palm to quieten down your giggles. Sevika can’t help her lips quirking up at the sound of your almost heavenly laugh, letting out her own huff of amusement before it dies down to a comfortable silence.

“How long until they finish up?” Sevika asks with a nod in the office's direction.

“Probably another ten minutes?” you guess before tilting your head curiously “shouldn’t you be in there, for protection and stuff?”

“Silco doesn’t need a babysitter, sweetheart” Sevika replies with a scoff “i'm sure he can handle himself against emerald just fine on his own”

“____” you correct her with your name “your people could get the wrong impression if they hear you calling me sweetheart”

Sevika steps in front of you, her robotic arm resting on the wall next to your head and effectively caging you in. Her face leans in closely as she smirks.

“Why would I care what impression they get?” Sevika asks obviously in a low tone

“Because flirting with me hardly makes you look loyal to Silco” you point out with a scoff “i’m one of his rivals assistants after all”

“What does it matter to Silco what I do in my free time?” Sevika asks suggestively

“Doing me is off limits” you state firmly, your hand going to her shoulder with the intention of pushing her away

“Says who?” Sevika asks with a low chuckle 

“Many, many people” you reply as your hand slides up from her shoulder to cup her cheek almost teasingly, unable to deny yourself from wanting to touch her.

“And who’s got the balls to tell me your off limits?” She asks with an amused scoff.

“Madame Emerald and Silco for one” you point out with an amused smile at her determination “unless they miraculously stop hating each other and make a business deal out of nowhere”

“Your infuriating” Sevika sighs out, smirk dropping at the reminder

“Yep” you answer back with a small laugh

“You're a brat, y’know that?” she asks with a huff as she leans in closer.

You're unable to resist as your eyes flutter closed in anticipation before snapping open suddenly and pulling your head back at the sound of talking and footsteps from the other side of the office door.

“They’re coming” you warn quickly with slight panic on your face

“Just my luck” Sevika grumbles out with a sigh before pulling away and creating distance between the two of you by standing next to you.

Madame Emerald exits the office with a foul look, clearly unhappy with the meeting's conclusion. She’s dressed in her usual elaborate emerald green outfit and makeup covering her ageing face, an outfit befitting someone with the title of madame.

She quickly makes her way towards you, a fond smile taking place on her lips at the sight of you as she notices some stray hairs and almost childishly tucks them behind your ears before patting your head affectionately

At the sight of Sevika, a frown takes over her expression as she shoots her an extremely unfriendly glare. She doesn’t even bother to acknowledge her more than that as she takes off down the hallway and calls for you to follow.

You gift Sevika one last smile when Silco isn't looking before following Madame Emerald obediently. Sevika watches your figure disappear down the hallway with an irritated expression, she can’t help but feel like you’ve slipped through her fingers once again.

There's always next time, she supposes.

—————————-present—————————-

You can't help but let out a sigh at the unwanted memories worm their way back into the front of your mind, wanting nothing more than to focus on the paperwork sitting in front of you.

“Everything okay Madame?” you hear from beside you

You let out another sigh before nodding and reminding yourself to keep stone faced, you could let everything out later but right now you were Madame Obsidian and not ‘____’

“Everythings fine, Ginger” you say calmly with a nod to the muscular, red haired woman “just…. Thinking”

Ginger simply gives you a nod and an understanding look before the older woman's face turns slightly awkward.

“More of Silco’s men came to the brothel earlier, offered a bag of coins each if we let them in” she speaks carefully, tiptoeing around the uncomfortable subject “I really think we should start letting them back in-”

“No” you cut her with a firm rejection “none of Silco’s people are allowed on the premises, thats final”

“But without their profit then we could go into debt-” she attempts to reason with you, but you cut her off once again

“No” you repeat firmly, a slight bit of vulnerability cracking into your voice “I won't allow it, i won't have anyone who works for that man near my girls”

Ginger's face softens with understanding at your words, how protective you are of your workers despite most of them being older than you yourself. The older woman just sighs and nods.

“Understood madame, i’ll leave you to your work” she says as she heads to the door, stopping herself before leaving fully and speaking in a quiet tone “she’d be proud of you, madame”

You can't stop the tears that flow down your cheeks and wet the paperwork underneath you as soon as the door swings shut. Small sobs barely muffled by your palm and your hand threading through the hair on your scalp and pulling harsh enough to burn, finally letting out the emotions you’d been hiding all day.

[kanskje-kaffe]

“You’re not ugly,” said Viktor. “Although, I am used to physical deformity. But mine are much easier to hide. May I?”  Silco looked up in confusion, which seemed to be permission enough. Viktor held up a hand in front of the scarred side of Silco’s face, closing one eye so he could only see the unblemished right half. Silco blinked, strangely self-conscious. He felt like an insect about to be pinned.  “You’re not actually very old, are you?” asked Viktor, still holding up his hand.

One of my favorite scenes from Anoint With Affliction by @withercrown, a stunning Vilco fic that everyone should read

[gingernut1314]

Don't Jinx It ch. 5

Summary: Silco comes to visit you at work to let you know he has a surprise to show you.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, Nadia is Viktor's mom, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, pre-Sheriff Grayson, reader using water manipulation, unrequited love, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, The Gray)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: so I'm still SCREAMING over those Vander flashbacks and Silco--SILCO my loveeee. So we're giving Silco long hair as per canon eheheeheh its perfect. Also we're aged up a bit now so lots of fun! I hope you all enjoy!

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Act 2: 

Four Years Later

For the past year or so the same small batch of enforcers visited at your Boss’ diner-shop. A batch of enforcers you were convinced your boss only let in cause she had made friends with their Sergent. A one Ms. Sergeant Grayson. 

You, Nadia, and Sevika watched Grayson and Boss laugh together in the booth they occupied, chatting with each other like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

“I still don’t get it.” Sevika gruffed, slicing into a gray-scaled fish you two had helped catch that morning. “Boss hates enforcers. Spits on their shiny gold badges any time she spots one, but she’s all but eating out of the palm of that one's hand.” 

“They’re fucking.” You chimed in from where you leaned against the counter watching the spectacle unfold before you. “They have to be fucking. That’s the reason.” 

“So vulgar.” Nadia shook her head at you two, nose wrinkled at your words. “Maybe Boss has just made a friend in her. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, no. You’re right.” Sevika started, beginning to slice the pink flesh of the fish into tiny strips. “Boss definitely’s been in her. That’s for sure.” You laughed while Nadia huffed. 

“You two are barbarians.” You flipped around, snatching a bit of sliced fish Sevika had just cut. You grabbed for a second slice before you had even shoved the first into your mouth, the woman chopping her knife all too close to your fingers in her way of telling you to knock it off. 

“You know we can’t help it, Nadia.” You mumbled around chews, the fish nearly melting on your tongue. You offered the second slice to Nadia who took it gently. 

“Unfortunately, I do know.” She huffed, taking a small bite from the bit of fish. 

“You coming to hang out with us tonight?” You asked Nadia hopefully. 

“Forgive me.” You gave a dramatic groan Sevika mimicked. “Nikolai and I are taking Viktor to spy on the newest…eh…flying…ship?” You quirked a brow at her as she bit another near-mouse-sized bite from her slice of fish. 

“Airship?” 

“Yes!” She beamed at you, “I prefer to keep my eyes on the earth and my paints but you know how my boy is.” You nodded, peaking a glance at the fish Sevika was still cutting up. 

“He still gonna build me that mini-fridge?” You joked, slyly inching your fingers closer and closer to the bits of fish. Nadia chuckled at your words. 

“I think in the near future, yes. He’s slowly beginning to toy with bigg--” You yelped when Sevika snatched hold of your wrist and yanked you closer. 

“You keep being a little seagull and Boss’ girlfriend is gonna have none.” You smirked up at her. 

“You think that’s it? They're together together?” Sevika gave you a long roll of her eyes, releasing your wrist. “It’s a perfectly tragic story. Two enemies turned lovers yearning for each other despite everything.” You gave a playful gasp. “They’re forbidden lovers.” 

“You two need to stop meddling in their business. They just seem to be friends.” Nadia chimed in. 

“You’re right, Dee. Enemies to friends to lovers.” Sevika joined in once more, taking a slice of fish and tossing it your way. You caught it just as Nadia sighed deeply. “Makes it even more tragic.” You gave a mockingly mournful nod. 

“You two are insufferable.” She popped the last of her fish into her mouth before she went back to her tables. Tables you and Sevika had purposely made sure were other like Undercitians, not wishing Nadia to be near the true barbarians of the night. 

Nadia was kind. Too trusting of others and both of you feared it would only lead to an enforcer getting the wrong idea.

You and Sevika, on the other hand, had no problem letting those bucket heads know just where they could shove it. And if they needed a bit of help neither of you had any problems doing it for them.

You had just shoved your newest piece of fish into your mouth when the bell hanging above the door gave a ring. 

“Better tell him it’s not a good time before Boss kills him,” Sevika spoke, gray eyes looking to who had just walked in. Excitement shot through your chest fast at her words, knowing exactly who she had spoken them about in moments. 

You tried your best to not whip around in your search for him. You didn’t want him to actually think you were excited to see him. No…nope. Not at all.

Silco’s seafoam gaze found you instantly, a small smile tugging to his lips as he walked over. 

“You have two minutes Silco,” Boss called from her booth, her eyes not lifting once from her glass of wine, which she gave a small swirl. “Before I let this one take you back with her to Piltover.” 

“Be gone in one,” Silco responded, Boss giving a heavy sigh.

Grayson, despite her being a horrid badge-wearing oppressor, was fair. She was one of the very few enforcers, maybe even the only enforcer, who didn’t have a stick shove so far up their ass it stuck out of their mouth. 

And she chuckled at Boss, saying something only she could hear. 

“Gods--I mean their practically fucking right in front of us,” Sevika muttered so only you and the quickly approaching Silco could hear.

“What do you think?” You asked in way of greeting Silco, who pulled so close you could smell the fresh shower he had just taken. It was a smell you thoroughly enjoyed, one you wanted to grab and rub your face all over, but one you knew had a bitter backing. 

The same year you had met Silco, Piltover had reopened the mines they had promised would stay closed forever. Opened them in the promise of progress and ample jobs for all. In helping ease the “struggle of the good people” down here.

You wanted to say it was fine at first. That it gave jobs to those who might not have had one otherwise. That Piltover might be right for once, but you would only be fooling yourself. 

Working in those mines was like dancing with death herself and Piltover knew it just as well as everyone else.

You had the usual risks, cave mouths collapsing and people getting lost within the labyrinth that the mines made up, but then there was the Gray. Smoke that still leaked its way out into The Lanes from past generations, more so now thanks to the mines having reopened as such. 

And the Gray--well, the Gray was death’s lover. 

Smoke so thick you couldn’t see through it. A smog that clogged your throat and made it feel like every breath you took filled your lungs with a thousand tiny needles.

Janna, the very Winds of the Undercity, had been trying ever since its birth to rid its poisonous wrath from us. She told you the story of her first coming to the Undercity a few times over the years. She had been called here on the prayers of the people who were suffering from its oppressive choking hold. She had managed to keep it at bay. To give the people a moment's relief to breathe freely.

But ever since then, she has been struggling to try and purify the smog. 

It was a story she typically told you when she had you practice trying to purify the waters lapping at The Lanes’ jagged edges. 

And every time she had you practice, every time she told you her tale, you asked how you were supposed to do the same if she, who was a goddess, couldn’t even do it herself?

She would settle you with her glowing, unblinking gaze before instructing you to try again. 

All play no work that one…if only. 

You hated that Silco and Vander went down there, especially since there was nothing to be done for the Gray. It was something you told him many times that same year he had started work. So many times he had snapped at you to stop because it wouldn’t change a thing. 

What very little money the boys earned went right into The Last Drop to keep it standing as Piltover rose taxes and Vander’s father passed, leaving every leak and creaky floorboard to him.

So you agreed to stop bothering him with your worries…though it did nothing to keep you from doing so voicelessly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Silco glanced their way, the two seeming to have grown even closer in the two seconds you had taken your eyes off them. “Seems a perfectly typical interaction between officer and civilian.” His eyes found yours own more, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help but look over every feature you could get away with looking at. Took in his nicely sharp features, his thinly soft-looking lips, and the shaggy hair he was allowed to grow out. Hair he planned on growing out so long he could braid it and gods did you agree. 

No longer was he the scraggly and bony teen you had first met. No, he had grown rather handsome. 

Painfully so. 

A beauty you struggled to think past most days.

And just as you knew how handsome he had grown, so had the rest of the Undercity. Women and men alike were drawn in by his looks and his smooth talk. 

His all-seeing and ever-calculating eyes only grew sharper. Eyes he used to see just how to make a girl grow ever the more flustered and fidgety under it. Eyes he used to track and log just what they liked to hear from him. 

He had become quite the playboy, capturing the hearts of many but never holding onto them for long. 

You think it has grown into a game to him. A game to see how many he can draw in and claim. See how many he can break in the same breath. 

You think sometimes he tries to play the game with you…and oh do you wish to play, but you knew he never truly meant the looks and the playful words he sent your way. 

You two were…friends. 

Strictly. 

Even when it disappointed you greatly. 

“Nah, they’re screwing.” Sevika huffed, reeling you back in from Silco’s charming looks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, backing slightly away only for your hips to hit the counter. His eyes quickly tracked your movements. Movements he did the opposite of and stepped closer one more. 

“You get off work at seven.” He matter of factly told you. 

“What? Do you keep my schedule pinned to your wall or something?” Silco all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“I have something to show you.” Curiosity sparked at your heart and you instantly leaned closer despite knowing you should keep far away for your own heart's sake. 

“Ooo…what is it?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” You nodded quickly. Surprises were great but you found yourself impatience. Silco teasingly smirked your way. “Never.” And just like that he pulled away, leaving you feeling as if you had been tossed around by a riptide. “I’ll be back at seven.” He called to you as he headed back for the door. 

You swallowed sharply.

“Yeah. Okay.” You called back. 

You watched him give Nadia a small wave goodbye, the woman more than edger to do the same, before he was back out the door like he never was there in the first place. 

Sevika huffed at you, gaining your attention once more. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” You watched her sharply as she plated the beautifully cut fish on an equally as beautiful plate. She fixed you with an all-too-teasing gaze. “You two are just as bad. No…no. Worse. You’re worse.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as she passed you the plate to take over to the Boss and Sergent Grayson. 

“What do you mean?” Sevika all but ignored you, looking back over the diner.

“Dee, it’s worse right?” Sevika called to Nadia who was carrying a stack of dirty plates back to the kitchen. 

“Much worse.” She agreed as she passed. Before you could snap at the two for an answer, Boss called your name sounding not pleased. 

“This is not over.” You huffed Sevika’s way who only smirked back at you. 

“Sure, guppy. Sure.” 

You spent the rest of your shift cursing yourself for not having packed a better change of clothes. You had planned on being able to head home to change into something a little more nice before you went to The Last Drop, but Silco’s surprise threw a big wrench in your plans.

Not that you were complaining. Not truly.

You would pick hanging out with Silco over a nicer pair of clothes any day.

You found Silco waiting outside for you just as he had said, messing around with one of his daggers. He perked up instantly when you emerged, dagger put away as you came to his side.

“So…you want to tell me now?” You asked, only for Silco to lean downward so that he was looking directly into your eyes. You felt your heart give another damning flutter in your chest. 

“Tsk, tsk.” He smirked, “Impatient thing aren’t we?”

“This just something you're figuring out?” Silco gave a small, amused huff of air from his nose. Those seafoam eyes danced over your face, not helping the restless movement in your chest.

“Come,” He gestured with his head for you to follow. “It’s not too far away.”

“As soon as I drop Nadia off I’m getting drunk, ya hear you two!” Sevika called as you began following after Silco. 

“Won’t take long,” Silco called back to her. 

“Better not.” She shouted, “I’m itching to beat you at cribbage tonight.” 

“Want to bet on that outcome?” Silco glanced back to the woman, eyes bright in the promise of competition. 

Your two friends were unchallengeable at any card game they played. Their smarts and trickery were not something to go up against lighty.

When the two played against each other, the game always was a close one. One point could determine the winner.

And between the two…you would bet on Silco to win. He was the only person in all of the Undercity you had known to ever beat Sevika and beat her he did every time. 

Sevika, of course, never admitted it.

“Nah, 'cause I know I’m winning. No need to jinx it all to hell on a damn bet.” She called back as she started off with Nadia. 

“If she wishes to win that bad all she needs to do is play against you.” You sharply shoved Silco away who only gave a chuckle. 

“You’re an asshole.” You huffed, pulling the strap of your patched-up bag further up your shoulder. “I can play cards.” 

“You can play Go Fish.” 

“Hell yeah I can play Go Fish! I’m the best damn Go Fish player in all of The Undercity. No--The Undercity and Piltover.” You threw your arms out dramatically as you turned on your heel to face Silco as you walked backward. “In the entirety of Runterra.” Silco quirked an amused brow at you.

“Oh really? The whole world?” You gave a humming nod. “Well then, Go Fish World Champion, we’ll play tonight.” 

“And I’ll beat you.” You knew you wouldn’t. Even in the only card game you had mastered, Silco was still the best at it. 

“Want to bet on it?” You turned on your heel once more to face away from him. 

“Nope. Sevkia’s right. Betting beforehand is only going to jinx it.” You once more adjusted the strap of your bag.

“Jinxes are just a fiction.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe…but what if they're not? Huh? What are you gonna do then?” You asked, craning your head to look back at Silco who was watching you closely, an easy smile on his thin lips that you couldn’t help but mimic. 

“Then I guess I’ll face it head-on.” He quickened his pace a bit to come back to your side. “Let me carry your bag for you.” He offered his hand out for the item. 

“You trying to steal from me?” You asked in mock concern. 

“Oh yes. I want your dirty work clothes and sea shells.” You shrugged. 

“You're right. The sea shells would be worth stealing.” You pulled the tote from your shoulder and handed it to Silco, who slung it over his. “Got a pocket watch in there too.” 

“Oh? And where did that come from?” He asked, pulling at the edge of the bag to look for said watch.

“Those enforcers were so generous. Just gave it to me out of the goodness of their heart.” Silco let the bag fall back against his side. 

“How kind of them.” He huffed. “Why your boss feeds them is beyond me.” You gave a sharp nod. 

“Agreed. That’s why we think there is something else going on. Boss kills enforcers on the spot typically.” Silco shook his head, eyes turning away from you as a deep anger filled them. 

“Shiny things are nice,” Silco started, seemingly changing the topic.

“Very nice.” You agreed once more. 

“But it’s not worth putting you at risk.” Concern. He was concerned for you and was telling you that. 

You couldn’t help that damn fluttering again.

“I thought we agreed a long time ago not to do this.” Silco’s hardened eyes glanced back down at you, seafoam softening at their edge the longer he watched you. 

“Do what?” 

“Oh please be careful. Oh, I’m so scared for you. Oh, those big bad enforcers are going to catch you. Oh please be safe.” Silco gave you a dramatic eye roll at your mockery.

“Please. I’m hardly saying any of that.” You gave him just as dramatic an eye roll back. 

“Really? Then what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying--” Silco’s gaze flickered quickly over your face before looking away once more. “That if you steal from them enough your boss will find out.” 

“Still kinda feel like you're worried about me.” You felt Silco’s hand on your arm only for it to shove you away. A wicked cackle pulled from your throat. 

“Look whose being the asshole now.” Silco gruffed. 

Silco led you down another street, through an alleyway, climbed down a steep stairway that seemed to go on forever, and right back down another street before coming to a small, hardly used bridge. 

You knew you were right on the border of the Promenade Level, where your boss’ diner-shop was located, and the Enthresol Level which was where The Last Drop beat at the heart of the city. 

You had taken this route a few times in the past. Only ever with Silco, so you were familiar with it, but why you two were taking this roundabout way to the bar was what nagged at your curiosity when you could have just walked back with Sevkia. 

“What are you--” Silco pressed a thin finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet before heading for the metal ladder built into the side of the bridge. 

You followed close behind, the bite of cold metal digging into your palms. Silco hopped onto the grated platform, rusted bits of metal having created holes here and there within its flooring, before turning to offer you his hand. 

You took it, even though you knew you didn’t need his help, but you knew you needed to be able to feel his skin against yours. Chill skin that was covered in tiny scars and callouses that always made you feel like it was just the two of you in that moment.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you over the platform and you couldn’t help the growing warmth that his hand was creating in you. A warmth that rushed up your arm and all over your body. Warmth that made that damning flutter grow near pounding. 

You made it all the way to the other side of the platform and that's when you heard it.

It was soft at first. A sound you almost didn’t believe you were truly hearing until you were standing before the source, staring at the bundle of twigs, string, fur, and hair nestled between a rounded design in the arch of the bridge. 

“Oh…Silco…” You breathed, watching the small, featherless baby birds chirping and chirping for their mother, little bulging bellies no doubt starving. 

“Fantastic aren’t they?” You nodded, holding his hand a little tighter. 

“How--they shouldn’t be able to live down here.” Your voice was quiet to keep from startling the babies, but also in disbelief. 

Quiet in a growing dread that they probably wouldn’t make it for very long. 

“Yes…yes, it’s quite strange.” Silco spoke just as softly as you. “I saw their mother and followed her down here. Found these sweet ones.” You felt his hand hold yours just as tightly back. “But this means it can really happen.” You turned away from the miracle before you to look up at him. 

Silco’s seafoam eyes were already watching you.

And you knew that look in his eyes. A look he only got when talking about one thing. 

“Zaun.” He nodded, that hopeful gleam in his eyes burning with passion. It was a dream you all let burn deep within your bellies. A dream you all spoke of often. Spoke of enough you all had given such an outlandish wish a name. 

You turned to look back at the babies, who still had yet to stop begging for food. 

“But what if…those plants don’t even live near the bridge.” You thought of the rooftop you two had first encountered each other on. A roof where someone had been trying to grow tomatoes, though those tomatoes had withered and died before they could even yield a ripe crop.

“We’ll come visit them. Maybe we can help keep them going.” You nodded, even though your negative side nagged at you that it wouldn’t matter. That these sweet babies would wither and die before they had even sported their first feathers. 

As if reading your mind, Silco grabbed your other hand, turning you to face him. To bare his determination for Zuan down onto you. 

“It will happen.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself it would. You nodded again.

“I believe it. We’ll make it happen.” But that look didn’t fade from his eyes. A look that mixed with something else that told you something was upsetting him. Something outside of the typical truths of your lives you lived down here in the filth. “What--did something happen?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I--” He hesitated himself. It had taken Silco a long time to fully be able to open up to you. Friends you may be, he kept his true feelings, deep dark ones, hidden behind a high wall. And though he more freely spoke with you on such topics now, you knew it was still a struggle. That, even though the wall had created a door for you to peek inside, the door wasn’t always unlocked.

“A mine shaft caved in this morning.” It was all he had to say for you to understand what had happened. For you to know why he had followed the bird down here. Why he had come to visit you at work. Why he had voiced his worry for you. 

Because he’d seen death today. 

More death that only Piltover could be blamed for and Zaun was Silco’s--no, everyone’s last bit of hope for things to get better.

You silently pulled him closer. Silently pulled your hands from his only so you could wrap them around his waist and hold him tight. And Silco silently let you hug him, when typically such affection was slapped away. 

Silco snaked his hands around your own waist, pulling you flush against his thin, yet strong body. You felt his breath against your neck as he buried his face there, warming your skin nicely.

You two stood like that for a long moment. Long enough that the babies stopped chirping, thinking you two had turned statue. 

“I have an idea.” You murmured, giving him one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Typically you would curse yourself for ending such a moment. A moment you so rarely got but you wanted to try and lift his spirits, if just for a moment. 

Silco watched you carefully as you reached into your bag, which you didn’t bother pulling from his shoulder. You rummaged around for a little bit, making all the random trinkets you carried in it clink together until you pulled out one of the larger shells and your canteen, which you had learned to always carry with you for easy access to water. 

“What are you doing?” He asked to which you tossed him a playful smirk.

“And ruin the surprise? Never.” He huffed in amusement at your repeat of his words from earlier that night. 

He watched you carefully as you found a level spot on the bridge to place the shell, before unscrewing the canteen. With little effort, you reached for the water with your magic, pulling a fist-sized droplet of water out. 

Silco eyes shimmered in fascination, pulling so close his shoulder was pressed against yours. You once more savored the touch, turning yourself so you could peek unstrained glances up at his seafoam eyes here and there as you worked. 

“For their mama. And for these three when they grow up.” You said. Silco glanced down at you as you let the droplet of water fill the shell. “And because it’s magic water.” You gave your fingers a little wiggle at the word magic that further tugged a smile to Silco’s lips. “It’ll never run dry… hopefully.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Silco observed.

“Yep. I’ll be able to create tsunamis next, just you watch.” Silco’s easy smile came back in full then. A smile that brightened his eyes and stirred those damned flutters right back up in your chest. 

“I will.” Silence fell between the two of you, now filled with the returned chirping of the babies. A silence that thickened and made your eyes flicker downward to his lips, which you wanted to feel so so badly against your own. “Thank you…for all that.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth down sharply. 

“Yep--” You gave your throat a little clearing as you turned away from Silco, knowing the longer you looked at his handsome features the more you were going to be drawn in. “Yep. No problem.” You recapped the canteen and all but shoved it into Silco’s arms. 

“Alright, I need a drink.” You announced, making your way towards the ladder and begging your heart to stop beating so loudly. “I’m kinda feelin’ like I might want to bet you about that win now.” Silco laughed, his footsteps sounding as he followed after you.

“I thought you said betting beforehand would only jinx it.” You shrugged, throwing him a mischievous little look. 

“I think I’ll just face it head-on, like you said. I’m feeling lucky.”

Previous | Next

[space-blue]

Being right years in advance with the long hair, man bun young Silco theories is the most gratifying thing out of the flashbacks for me.

If you want a short fic (with art!!) where Silco cuts his hair because Vander used it to grab him, may I recommend The Monster Within?

And if you're feeling adventuurous, you can explore the matching Vander POV, one of my best one shots in my humblr opinion, The Monster Without

[nausicaaandhermouth]

The Revolutionist

masterlist

pre-canon!silco x gn!reader [2.5k] [AO3]

cw: implied/referenced suicidal ideation, implied/referenced depression

summary: at a particularly melancholy night that drives you to the heights, you meet a stranger in the shadows who coaxes you from the edge.

tags: pre-canon, sexual(?) tension, depression, suicidal ideation, undercity, smoking

a/n girl iono what this is, but here's to my first one shot (clinks glass) idk why i'm nervous (btw requests & taglist are open if you're interested)

From this dizzying height, the Undercity unfurls below. A tapestry of ethereal greens and golds, luminescence piercing through the murky haze—stark silhouettes of buildings jut upwards, defiant sentinels of black and grey amidst the swirling miasma. Its signature sickly green fog blankets the metropolis; coils around structures and seeps into every crevice, a suffocating embrace.

Your feet graze over the edge, toes curling over where solid ground gives way to a yawning abyss. The boundary between life and oblivion is razor-thin here. One small shift, imbalance, and gravity would claim you.

The wind whispers seductive promises of flight, tugging at your clothes, daring you to test the limits—it’s a heady mix of terror and exhilaration.

The precipice beckons, a siren call you’ve never heeded this far before. Each step tracked each loss that then etched into your very bones. First, it was your father, consumed by the blight. Almost expected. It was a degradation the Undercity-born was familiar with. Then, your sister, life snuffed out by an enforcer’s merciless fist. The brutes. Now, your mother, long adrift in her own ocean of grief. You’d become little more than ghosts haunting the same halls, the world’s greed carving an insurmountable chasm between you.

Logic screams that your presence here is madness. The need for comfort, for solace only another soul can provide, wars against reality. You long to bridge the gap, find someone’s warmth, spit out the bitter poison fed by the relentless suffering.

If not today, then tomorrow, or the day after—the world will take again. This grim lottery where Death deals the cards. Will it be the fist of an enforcer or the invisible killers that saturate every breath?

Are you really contemplating this?

“Bit dangerous, don’t you think?” a voice, velvet and silk, cuts blade-like through your contemplation.

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up. A jolt of surprise sends you teetering forward. Heart pounding, you stumble back from the edge.

Whirling around, you fix the intruder with a glare. His dark silhouette materialised a few feet away like some spectral apparition, leaning against the roof with an infuriating nonchalance. A cigar dangled between his fingers, wisp of smoke curling around his face.

His eyes, half-moons of disinterest, survey you with the casual indifference of someone observing an insect. It makes a look that makes your spine straighten, your earlier melancholy rapidly morphing into irritation.

“Sort of the point,” you spit back, words tasting of bitterness and bravado. You slide a step away, creating further distance between you and him. The roof suddenly feels too small. Who is he? What does he want? And more importantly, how dare he interrupt your affair with oblivion?

He responds with a half-shrug, somehow making it an eloquent gesture of his impassivity. Drawing a deep breath from his cigar, he exhales a cloud of smoke that hangs in the air like a tangible manifestation of your growing annoyance.

Your mind races and falters. Is he really just going to stand there? Not that you want to be stopped, but his nonchalance was… unsettling? A highly irregular response to finding someone conversing with non-existence. Though, the idea was not novel—a common fate for many under dwellers.

You turn back to face the sprawling cityscape, trying to ignore the insidious tendrils of smoke that start coiling around your senses. The question burns in your mind: What is he doing here? This moment was supposed to be yours alone. You hadn’t anticipated a witness for your last moments.

Unable to resist, you shoot him another glare, only to find him utterly disinterested in your turmoil. He’s busy scraping something off the underside of his boot, as if the grime of the city is more worthy of his attention than your life-or-death deliberation.

Frustration boils over, and your words escape you before you can stop them. “Are you just going to stand there?” the question cuts through the silence and he looks up, meeting you gaze with those half-drooped eyes.

His face remains a mask of calm, thoroughly unaffected by your hostility. It’s a further irritant how much your obvious displeasure slides off him.

“You want me to catch you, or something?” he drawls, tone a perfect blend of sarcasm and boredom that makes your blood even hotter.

His words hang between, a challenge and a dismissal all at once.

“What are you doing here?” you strike back, impatience sharpening your words.

He takes another languid drag from his cigar, smoke veiling his face. “What—can I not be?” his voice carries a hint of amusement as he pushes off from the wall. Each step towards you is a study in fluid grace, soft and languid. “Like you, I can appreciate Zaun’s skyline. Seems we just have a point of preference,”

He halts a few feet away, gaze drawn to the cityscape below. The proximity allows you to truly observe him for the first time, the details etching themselves into your memory with startling clarity.

His eyes, a stormy blue, almost grey when drenched behind mist. They’re set in a face that could have been chiselled from marble—all sharp angles and clean lines, giving him an almost shark-like profile. Long, dark hair is gathered into a careless bun at the nape of his neck, rebellious strands escaping to frame his face, softening the harsh edges ever so slightly.

A spark of gallows humour flickers to life within you, at last a defiant flame against the dark. “Ah,” you nod, wariness still evident in the tension of your shoulders while a sardonic smile curls your lips. “Planning a dive, too, are you?”

A huff escapes him—a sound that might charitably be called laughter, but falls short of genuine mirth.

Suddenly, the name snaps you back to reality. Zaun. The word carries with it its reputation and weight. So few people use the name that it stands more so for people that had “rebel” ideas rather than what it was created for. Your eyes narrow. “You’re one of those… revolutionists, huh?”

He turns to you, face still angled downward, but his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that momentarily catches your air. You fumble for composure, scraping together the dregs of your wit.

“Nation of Zaun, children, brothers, sisters,” you intone, bobbing your head in mock-solemn gesture as you attempt to recall the group’s motto. The words taste foreign on your tongue, like reciting a prayer to a god you’ve never believed in.

His brow shifts slightly. “Is that mockery?” the question hangs, but not accusatory, rather tinged with a gentle curiosity that catches you off guard.

You shrug. “Sure is an idea,” you mutter, words running away before you can fully process them. You’ve never given it much thought before, too entrenched in the sorrow that’s dogged your family’s steps like perpetually wet shoes, leaving its trail of misery.

This time, he turns to face you fully, his complete attention zeroing in on you. It halts you momentarily, but you push through, averting your gaze as you continue.

“Idealistic. Hard-headed,” you pause, then look up to meet his eyes, your own gaze hardening. “Unrealistic,”

His head tilts slightly, reminiscent of a predator assessing its prey. “You don’t agree with us?”

You exhale sharply, a sound caught between a laugh and a sigh. The revolutionary ideals tumble around you head like a well-worn shopping list. Independence, rid of topside’s clutches, own leadership, own government. “No, I do,” you admit, surprising yourself. Your brows furrow, grappling with the contradiction between your words and your earlier mockery. “Just ballsy, I suppose. It’s never been done, uncharted waters and all that,”

He nods, absorbing your perspective with a thoughtfulness that makes something in you quiver as if in surrender. You find yourself studying his eyes, that stormy blue-grey gaze that seems to hold secrets of their own. They flicker with an inner light as he searches for his response, and you're struck by the intensity of his conviction.

“Then how are we ever to find new land?” he says finally, his voice low and resolute. The simple statement carries an undercurrent of determination that sends a shiver down your back.

“We seem to be surviving fine,” you say, your words dripping with trying humour, a brittle shield.

His response isn't the sad attempt at laughter. Instead, his brow quirks upward, a subtle gesture that feels like a probe into your very secrets. “Then what drove you here?”

You're caught off-balance. How did he read you so easily, peeling back your layers in mere moments? Your gaze darts away, then back to his piercing eyes, discomfort radiating from every pore. “That’s hardly your concern,” you attempt a smile, but it's a weak thing.

“But I can bet it’s one of the following,” he drawls, taking a long, deliberate drag from his cigar. The smoke curls around him like a living thing as he continues. “Lung blight from working in factories, lung blight from working in the mines, or a stray enforcer who got a little too… harsh,” the smoke drifts and drowns you both, swarming your heads in a little bubble.

You inhale, feeling the intoxicating tendrils crawl up into your head, a silent song of temporary escape. Your eyes fix on his cigar, mesmerised. Does it fuel his poetic responses and that maddeningly indifferent stare? You wonder, your hands rising of their own accord, reaching to pluck the cigar from his grasp.

You rest it between your lips, inhaling deeply. The acrid smoke fills your lungs, a familiar burn that grounds you in this surreal moment. With practised ease, you exhale, your tongue crafting perfect smoke rings that float lazily between you. They dissipate against his face, a ghostly caress that lingers.

Your lips twitch, suppressing a smile as his eyes bore into yours. Is he entertained? Infuriated? His face remains an impassive mask, giving nothing away.

“Been trying to learn that,” he says, gaze flickering between the cigar in your hand and your eyes. There's a hint of something else in his voice.

You shrug, aiming for nonchalance. You hope your demeanour mirrors his earlier bored facade. “It’s all the tongue,”

His eyebrow arches slightly. “Is that so?” he murmurs. “And here I thought it was about control,”

You take another drag, letting the smoke curl around your lips before speaking. “Control is part of it,” you concede, voice low. “But flexibility is key,”

He reaches for the cigar, fingers brushing yours as he takes it. “Show me,” he challenges, eyes never leaving yours.

You lean in, forcing your gaze to fixate on the smoke and its origin. Nothing else. “It’s all about the right pressure,” you pause, your breath a ghost drifting from you, as if absorbed by him. “Too much, and it falls apart. Too little, nothing happens at all,”

He inhales deeply, eyes latched onto yours, then attempts a ring. It’s clumsy, dissolving almost instantly. “Pitiful,” he huffs, frustration and amusement colouring him.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Close,”

As if instinctively, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be kind,”

Is that a dare? Your brows twitch in brief process. You take the cigar back. “Relax your lips, circular,” your eyes fall to his mouth, mimicking yours subconsciously. “Bend your tongue down. Tip on the bottom of your mouth,”

“Mhm,” he hums.

You demonstrate, creating a perfect ring that quivers over his shoulder.

“I see,” he mutters, watching, mesmerised. Whether by the ring or your mouth, you don’t want to know.

Nodding, a slow smile spreads your lips. “Delicate,” you raise the cigar his way.

He takes it with his lips, hooking his fingers around and taking a long drag.

You find yourself captivated by his attempts at smoke rings. As he inhales, his eyes close, a moment of quiet concentration. They flutter open to witness his handiwork—thin, frail rings that dissipate quickly in the air. The corner of his mouth twitches, a hint of a smile breaking through his stoic facade.

He tries again a few times, clearly taken by this newfound skill. His presence has shifted, no longer infuriating but almost... playful.

Emboldened, you gather your courage and circle back to his earlier question. "All of the above," you say, your words herding his attention back to you. Your voice is steady, but there's an undercurrent of pain you couldn't quite strap back. “My dad worked in the mines, and my sister... she got in with the wrong crowd. Crossed some enforcers on the wrong day.”

His eyes soften, a wordless apology that's more than enough. You've never been one for overly expressed sympathies anyway.

“And mom's been showing…” your voice trails off as your mind drifts to your mother's face, the image of her becoming more gaunt with each passing month etched painfully in your memory. It's a familiar process, one you've seen play out in countless Undercity families. Someone's mother or father always showing signs of the blight. Now it's your turn to watch it unfold in your own home. “Declining,” you finish, the word heavy on your tongue.

The light atmosphere dissipates, replaced by a shared understanding of the Undercity's—no, Zaun's harsh realities. You stand there, smoke curling between you.

“It’s never easy, is it?” he says softly, words simple but sincere. He takes another drag of the cigar then offers it back to you. "But we endure," the tone seems to challenge your earlier actions—asking, are you still thinking about it?

You accept the cigar, fingers brushing his. With a long drag, you let the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. "Guess it's just what we Zaunites do, right?" you take a step away from the edge, nearing his side.

An amused smile finally tugs at his lips.

He was a stranger mere moments ago, and yet here you are, mixing tastes and sharing ideologies. Names seem almost irrelevant. Still, you offer yours, falling from your lips like a confession.

He repeats it, sounding entirely new as his voice wore each letter in that silk tone, escaping his mouth alongside whispers of smoke.

“Silco,” he gives back, the name igniting a spark of recognition that raises your brows as you return his cigar.

The name echoes in your mind, often whispered in the same breath as 'Vander'—the two faces of the revolution. The muscle and the voice of a movement that promised to reshape Zaun's future.

“Mm,” you murmur, your eyes tracing the contours of his face with newfound interest, drinking him in. Each line, each shadow takes on new significance as you piece together the man behind the name. “Not just a revolutionist. The revolutionist,”

A short laugh escapes him, a rare sound that seems to surprise even him. He brings the cigar to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a burning in his gaze that pins you in place, making you acutely aware of every breath.

He takes a deep drag, the ember glowing bright in the dim light of Zaun's eternal twilight. As he exhales, your attention is drawn inexorably to his mouth.

A more practised smoke ring emerges, expanding and drifting between you. It's a marked improvement from his earlier attempts, a physical manifestation of how quickly he learns, adapts. You find yourself wondering what other skills he might possess.

[kokoch4nel]

can we talk about what if this pretty, psychopath mf was in arcane?

[silcoitus]

WAT IF srry caps wat if reader/y/n has to seduce someone for a mission (she works for silco) but silco yknow is jealous (also srry I put she it can be gn) love ya.

-JL

Thank you for this request, JL! This was fun to write. Also if Hoskel sounds ooc, it's cause I didn't care enough about him to do more research on him lmaoooooo

Honeypot

Rating: Explicit—Minors DNI

Word count: 3.2k

Beta reader: @medic-simp

Tags: silco x f!reader, jealous silco, possessive silco, sevika, councilor hoskel, rough sex, penis in vagina sex, left open for a second part because i can’t help myself apparently,

It's been decided that you will seduce Councilor Hoskel in order to give Sevika and her team enough time to secure an important document from inside his estate. The only complication? Your boyfriend Silco is not enthused about the idea of watching you flirt with another man.

Read on AO3

A/N: In classic me fashion, I left an opening for a second part. Gotta go on the opera "date" to finish the mission!

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

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[ace-of-zaun]

It’s Because:

Silco x gn!reader - 1k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, pining, denial of feelings, falling in love, brief mentions of death, injury, and trauma, happy ending

summary: Silco is not in love. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this before, i hope it works!! (it really hurt to type as well but my physio told me i had to.) inspired by the song i’m not in love by 10cc

Silco is not in love.

Unequivocally, categorically not in love. 

He doesn’t even know what love is when he meets you as a jaded, starving teenager, too busy trying to make ends meet to even think about something as trivial as love. But he does know that the easy way you smile when you meet his eyes makes his day just that little bit brighter. 

He’s not in love when he spots you a few years later, standing quietly amongst the meagre crowd in the bar, listening to his rallying speech of change and independence. Although, the spark in your eyes as you watch him is like a match to the burning in his chest, and for once in his life, it makes him feel alive. 

Silco isn’t in love when he accompanies you on mission after mission, learning to trust one another as he watches your back and you watch his in return, securing resources, and medicine, and meals for the starving children of his city. It’s just the adrenaline from the sprint back home, as you both narrowly escape the Enforcer’s clutches, that sets his heart racing to the dozen.

He can’t be in love when he watches you from across the bar, laughing, and singing, and dancing along to the jukebox, unaware of how effortlessly you light up the room. And so what if deep down he wants to join you and bathe in that light, soaking you in until you're his? It’s not like it means anything anyway. 

There’s no such thing as love on his birthday when he refuses to tell anyone the significance of the day, instead scowling down at yet another shipping manifest. Except, when you hand him a cupcake and kiss his cheek as you walk through the bar on your way to the market, he hopes the red of his ears and the longing expression isn’t too noticeable. 

Love isn’t present on the night you cry in his arms, heaving sobs that wrack your body as you mourn those lost in the fight, yet more casualties in this never ending fight for freedom. It’s simply the right thing to do when he lulls you to sleep, shushing your cries until your breathing slowly evens and your heart beats sync up with his. 

Silco tells himself he isn’t in love when you sit side by side, legs dangling off the little bridge that crosses the river as he gifts you a starburst necklace that once was his mother’s. And it certainly doesn’t mean anything when you gaze up at him with the softest smile, intertwining your fingers with his while you gently rest your head on his shoulder. 

He is not in love the day you stand with him in the little alcove across the street from the bar, sheltering from the rain that drips down to form galaxies of puddles along the square floor. You’re up on your tip-toes, his arm is around your waist, and when your nose bumps against his, his heart beats so loud he’s sure you can hear it-

But then his brother is suddenly there, pulling him away from you as he insists he goes for a walk with him, and Silco makes the worst decision of his life and agrees. 

In thunder and rain, Silco knows that love ends in nothing but betrayal when he is forced to disappear, body pulsing with pain, mind in tatters. He’s hurting, and angry, and beyond scared. But weaved in between it all, he thinks of you and pictures the way you looked and felt beneath his fingertips, and thinks that maybe it’s not all bad. 

There’s no time to think of love when, years later, he finally gets his revenge and reclaims his bar, his home; a second chance at raising the city his people deserve. Though, it’s almost like serendipity when he happens to take a break from arranging his schedule to look through the window down into the square, and there you are, standing in the middle of the street silently watching his workers carry in new furniture. 

He isn’t in love when he runs down to you, nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, pushing through the doors until you’re right there in front of him, the only place he truly feels safe. But when you don’t scream or slap him or curse him for leaving you, instead striding across the distance to throw your arms around him in a tight embrace, he forces himself to choke back his tears and allows yours to soak into his shoulder instead. 

Silco continues to remind himself that he’s not in love in the coming months, while you sit beside him day after day, helping him put his plans into motion, listening to every word, every worry, every whisper. Really, who can even tell that his heart skips a beat when he spots that you’re still wearing his mother’s necklace, still so mirandous even after all this time?

He’s not in love the evening you sit atop the bar, laughing as you retell a story from your youth, caught delightfully off-guard when he can’t help but surge forward, capturing your lips while his hands cup your heated cheeks. It’s just one of those things, he supposes, to finally feel content standing between your legs, your own lips pressed in a smile against his, in a way that kick starts his once dead heart. 

But now, nearly two decades after he’d first laid eyes on you as a naïve boy, he lays next to you in bed and watches you sleep peacefully, tangled in the sheets the same way you’ve weaved yourself into his heart. And in the quiet lull of the night, he runs his fingers over a shiny, jewelled ring, custom-forged to match his mother’s necklace that still rests around your neck. 

He thinks of easy mornings and four-word questions, and for the first time in his life, allows himself to simply feel. 

Maybe, just maybe, Silco is in love.