#silco arcane fic

[gingernut1314]

Turkey and Cheese ch. 2

Summary: On the run from enforcers, you collide straight into someone in your rush. Someone whose seafoam eyes take your breath away and all you want to do is spend a little bit more time with him.

Content: female reader x Silco, pre-season 1 arcane, first meeting, gendered terms, reader has water manipulation powers, young Silco, young reader, you share a stolen sandwich with Silco, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: They characters will age up, but the plan I have set up is reader meets Silco and the others when they are all still teens so there is only going to be like...one or two more chapters as teens and then we're getting aged up. I hope you all enjoy!!

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You got too much joy picking on the Enforcers that hang around the bridge that separated the shining city of Piltover and the not-so-bright Undercity. You stole their lunches and their coin, called them every name under the sun, and threw rocks at them from dark corners. 

It pissed them the fuck off making it prime entertainment for you.

Your guardian, Janna, disapproved of your shenanigans. The lectures were too long whenever you were caught. Lectures about reasonability and grace and blah, blah, blah . 

So, to avoid such mind-numbing lectures, you waited until Janna disappeared for days on end to let chaos ensue.

And this fog-heavy day was one of those days.

Your stomach growled, clenching and twisting in hunger as you knelt on top of one of the run-down tenement houses near the bridge. You watched four Enforcers walk out of the broader toll house, switching posts with the other four Enforcers standing before the bridge. 

You had been watching them for most of the night, counting and double counting how many Enforcers were on duty. You counted nine in total, which was one less than there had been last time you’d done this. 

Someone must be sick or had been fired or, maybe, they were dead. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter one bit to you. All you cared about now was earning a few coins and getting a homemade meal from someone's spouse for a late dinner.

You rushed into action after one last scan of the area, before rushing across the roofs. When you came to the end of this line of tenements, you hopped down onto the fire escape below, a small grunt escaping your lips before starting down the rusting stairs. 

Once on the ground, you yanked your hood up and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, trying to keep a low profile as you walked the short distance across the recently redone cobblestoned road. You disappeared into the large shadows the street lamps cast, walking along the smooth wall of the tollhouse.

“Beth just got accepted into that fancy college she wanted.” A gruff voice filtered out from a small, open window. 

“Well, shit--” Was the last of that conversation you heard as you climbed up a ladder around the back of the building. 

You stayed crouched low as you made way to the vent in the center of the roof. You had used this vent for years, but, as you quietly pulled the metal covering off and lowered yourself into the vent system, found it might be one of your last times. 

You were getting too big to fit in the vent.

This was a child's game, as unfortunate as it was to admit, and at the ripe age of fourteen, you were no child anymore. 

“We’ve been saving up--” And blah, blah, blaaahhhh . 

Enforcers rarely had anything exciting to talk about. It was always about someone's family or about whatever game they had gone to watch. It had nearly sent you into tears as you crawled through the vents. 

Where was the excitement? The danger? 

Didn’t Encforcer beat Undercityians up for fun? 

You finally made it to the vent in the locker room area. It was bland and hardly fit hardly enough lockers for every enforcer stationed here, but to you, it was a gold mine. 

You opened the vent, placing it slowly on the other side of the vent shaft, and hopped into the room, hitting the ground on near-silent feet and a held-in grunt. You waited a few seconds to see if anyone had heard you before starting on opening each locker and taking as many coin potches as you could find. The only good thing the last locker had to offer was a piece of gum instantly shoved into your mouth. 

Just as you opened the fridge and grabbed someone's paper bag lunch, the door opened. 

Your blood went cold. You've been caught one too many times over the years, but each time it happened it never helped ease your nerves. 

A younger-looking Enforcer saw you instantly, his eyes narrowing in something like confusion. You didn’t recognize this Enforcer from past interactions, so you assumed he was new. 

“Hey! Who the hell are you?” 

“No one.” You pulled on the most innocent look you could muster, hiding the lunch behind your back. “I think I might have taken a wrong turn.” 

“A wrong--” The Enforcer then saw the open and ransacked lockers. It clicked then, what had happened here right under his nose. 

Before the Enforcer had time to speak, you pushed past him into the small hallway. 

“Hey!” He shouted after you but you were already booking it into the office area where six enforcers sat. They noticed you almost instantly, rising from their seats in the blink of an eye. One tried to grab you, but you twisted out of his way and dodged another on-coming man. 

The front door open with a bang and all but threw yourself into the street, your gum falling from your mouth in the process. 

“Grab her!” One of the enforcers shouted, singling the four others standing before the bridge. Those four were too far away to do any grabbing, so you didn’t feel the need to be worried about them. 

You ran downwards, toward the looming city you called home. As you ran closer and closer, the air seemed to get thicker--��dirtier than that of the air by the bridge. This wasn’t anything new to you, your throat and lungs taking less than a second to adjust to the polluted air. 

The continuous shouting from behind let you know that the Enforcers were still hot on your tail. You would either lose them eventually in this maze of run-down buildings and streets or they would give up, finding they didn’t want to venture as far into the city as you were going to take them. 

Time would only tell which it would be, so you pushed yourself harder. 

You made the first sharp turn into a familiar alleyway, an enforcer that had been getting too close to you tripping and falling into a couple of barrels full of fish. You gave a sharp laugh, looking over your shoulder to watch that scene unfold in your utter glee.

And just as you made to turn back around, you collided into something solid and bony.

You and the person you’d just hit at full speed went tumbling to the ground, each giving own round of curses. 

A pair of blue-green eyes halted your escape. A pair of eyes that took your breath away…well, maybe it had been from the impact but your breath was differently stolen and these eyes--eyes like seafoam weren’t helping.

The blue-green eyes were attached to a thin, sharp face covered in skin that looked like it hardly got out in the sun. 

Though everyone down here always had that “hardly seen the sun” look about them. 

This guy was very attractive. Too attractive some might say. 

So attractive it almost had you forgetting about the four enforcers running after you. 

 The blue-green eyes narrowed up at you, completely pissed off. 

“Get the hell off--” 

 “She’s in there!” The enforcer that had just fallen into fish guts shouted to his coworkers. The boy’s eyes widened and he looked past you to find what you already knew was coming into the alley. 

“Do you have a canteen?” The boy snapped back to you, anger written clear on his face. 

“What? No--” You gave him an eye roll. 

Who didn't carry a water canteen with them? 

Well…you didn’t, but that was beside the point. 

“A flask?” You tried again.

“You ran into me and brought enforcers with you and you're asking me if I have a--” He gave a startled sort of sound as you began patting him down. You’d grown tired of his rambling. You found a flask in his jacket in an inner pocket and gave a little sound of triumph. 

“Thank you!” You sweetly spoke, pushing yourself off the guy who looked so bewildered by you it was cute . You turned your attention back onto the four enforcers blocking the exit. 

“Thought you could get away with it this time, girl .” One of them hissed through his mask. You recognized this man to be Rufus, an Enforcer that had been stationed on the bridge the longest. 

“But whatever did I do, sir? ” He gave a growl, taking a step forward that was meant to be threatening. 

“Give it back and we’ll forget this ever happened.” You knew that was a lie. As soon as you got close enough, they’d grab you and throw you in jail. 

“Promise?” Rufus was growing impatient, you could see it in his brown, tired eyes.

“ Promise .” He grit out. This made you smile. 

“Alright, mister.” You pulled the flask out from behind your back then. “Catch!” And the flask was tossed Rufus’s way. 

You let your magic flow through your veins and felt for the water in the alcohol. 

Rufus caught the flask with ease. He looked from it to you. 

“What is--” With great effort, you made the little bit of water in the alcohol explode. The flask broke into pieces, shooting up into his eyes. He gave a scream and that was your queue to leave. 

You snapped around, finding the boy standing there, shock on his face. He had a lean build and was very, very tall. It just added to his overall attractiveness. 

Focus!  

“Time to go!” You swiped the fallen lunch off the ground and grabbed for the boy in one go, pulling him further down the alley.

It only took the boy a moment to regain his right mind and in a split second, he was the one pulling you along.

You followed the boy, climbing up on top of the dumper closest to the broken fire escape. You let go of his arm so he could launch himself at the escape, slamming into the railing with a bang. Once he was over the rusting railing, you were quick to jump and slam into the escape.

The boy grabbed your wrist once your two feet were safely on the other side of the railing before continuing to drag you up stair after stair until you made it to the roof, which someone had been trying to grow some kind of plants on. Just with a quick glance at the spotting plant, you could tell it wasn’t going very well. 

Shouting from the enforcers below had you wiggling out of the boy's grip and looking over the edge, finding one had climbed up onto the dumpster while the others looked defeated. 

“If it's any consolation, you’ll be feeding a poor underling for a day or so.” You shouted down to them, waving the bag mockingly.

“Don’t think this is over, girl!” Rufus spat. You only gave him a cheeky smile. 

“Tell your wife she makes the best turkey and cheese sandwiches. I’ve been looking forward to it all month.” Rufus gave a growl before storming out of the alley. Slowly, the other enforcers followed after him, throwing you dirty looks as they left.  

The boy grabbed you then, whipping you around to face him. 

You weren’t always the best at figuring out how people were feeling, mainly thanks to being raised by a seemingly emotionless wind spirit, but you could tell in a moment this guy was angry. 

“If this is about your flask, I’m--” The guy was quick to not let you finish. 

“What the hell were you thinking, bringing enforcers to the Lanes?” He snapped. You merely gave him a very slow blink.

“I’m fully prepared to buy you a new one.” You finished, earning a frustrated growl from the guy. 

You liked what he had going on--this uptight, angry, authoritative thing. You liked it so much it made you want to tease him to no end. 

“Why I’m trying to get a child to see reason--” 

“Whoa there.” You held a hand up, further cutting him off. “You’re like--what, a year older than me?” He narrowed his seafoam blue eyes at you once more.

“You can’t be older than twelve.” 

“Nope! Fourteen.” The guy rolled his eyes.

“A child.” 

“Alright, mister-high-and-mighty. How old are you then?” 

“It hardly matters.” Your mouth fell open in disbelief, but before you could nag him anymore, he continued. “You realize they will be back.” You pulled out of the guy's grip again and began walking across the roof. 

To your surprise, the boy followed. 

“The reason I pick on those buffoons at the bridge is because I know their threats are empty.” You opened the brown paper bag and rummaged around until you found a foil-wrapped sandwich your stomach had been growling to get a bite out of. “Especially Rufus.” You took one of the halves out and extended it to the boy. “Want some? It’s the good stuff.” He looked it over for a moment, eyes still narrowed. 

You could tell he didn’t want to take it from you, not when he still looked so annoyed at you…so you gave it a little wiggle that pulled a sigh from his mouth. 

“Thank you.” He took it from you, his eyes finally softening. His fingers brushed the tiniest bit against yours, but it was enough to send sparks running through your every last nerve. 

You watched the boy as he took a bite from the sandwich. Watched as his eyes widened the slightest bit. It was so slight most wouldn’t have noticed, but you had been watching him too intently. 

“Right? It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” You gave him a bright smile. One you rarely ever gave--one that was genuine --before chomping down into your own half.

You hopped up on the edge of the roof, which overlooked the whole of the Lanes. From up here, you could spot the tops of the highest buildings and the smoke billowing up from the mines beneath the city. Smoke that danced and twirled upward, illuminating the lights shining from across the city. In the day, the smoke would cast the sky in murky shades of gray, depending on how bright the sun was shining. 

It was quite beautiful, despite its run-down and polluted nature. 

It was still your home. 

“I didn’t mean to bring the enforcers here…but maybe I gave someone the chance to get across that golden bridge--for them to seek their fortune or a fresh start.” You looked back to the boy who had jumped up onto the edge with you. He turned his gaze towards you, scanning you over with seemingly all-seeing eyes. Eyes that made your skin seem to burn.

“Is that what you want?” The question shocked you.

In The Lanes, most didn’t get too close to one another. Not unless they had to. It was a very lonely world, but you endured.

“No,” You scoffingly said. You wouldn’t even last a day over there. You were too wild, too much a part of the Undercity. You gave the boy a look over of your own, though much less all-seeing as his had been. 

“What about you?” You cautiously asked. Though you didn’t at all mind sharing things about yourself, you didn’t know how this guy was. All you knew is you enjoyed his company….and you didn’t want to be alone all over again quite yet. 

“No,” He replayed, looking back over the city. “There’s too much potential here.” 

You liked that. You liked that a lot . 

You took another big bite from your sandwich, letting the night air fill the quiet between you two. 

You swallowed, glancing back over him as you worked up the courage to speak again. 

And once that small bit of courage was wrestled up, you told him your name.

The boy turned his eyes back on you, his longish brown hair blowing slightly in the breeze. He seemed to hesitate too for a moment.

“Silco.” He spoke before finishing off his half of the sandwich. 

You liked his name. You liked it almost as much as you liked his face. 

“How did you manage to make my flask to explode?” You smirked, turning away from the boy, Silco , once more. 

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” Silco gave a laugh. It was a tiny huffing one, but a laugh nonetheless. 

You liked his laugh. You liked more than his name and face.

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[chappellroansdreamgirl]

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

[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.

[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!

[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

[space-blue]

THE FINAL CHAPTER IS OUT!

FIC COMPLETE AT 42 CHAPTER, 107K WORDS!

(ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ It's overrrrrrrr !!!

This final chapter features Powder, Sevika, Silco, Vi POVs, as well as an epilogue in Viktor POV and the art done for me by the lovely @wishfulsketching Sorry for the long wait (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Much love to my fantastic beta across this monster of a fic, @spicedrobot, and also @skierunner for pitching in.

[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.

[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

Join my taglist!

[kokoch4nel]

can we talk about what if this pretty, psychopath mf was in arcane?

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

If you are a fan of Silco, Vander, or Arcane in general, you seriously have to see this video by Phenrir Mailoki, English in cc. It goes through how the betrayal may have played out, with incredible writing and beautiful drawings! I was blown away!

[gingernut1314]

The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist

Content: Female reader x Slico, pre-Arcane season 1, will go into season 1 but much later, canon typical descriptions of violence, reader has water manipulation powers, sex (further warning in individual part), drugs, smoking, several ocs (threeish), unrequited love, friends to lovers, more to come as I keep writing

A/N: since season 2 came out I was reminded that I had some bits and pieces of this story I made while watching season 1 and thought, hey, now is a good time as any to put them out there into the world. I wanted to write for the characters pre-season 1 cause how fun would it be to write for all their interactions before everything went to complete shit? It's so much fun and thus this fic was born lol. I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to Arcane Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Guide:

⏳ = Coming Soon ✔️ = Competed 🖋️= Ongoing 🧨 = NSFW

Setlist:

Blood//Water

Love and War

Living in the Shadows

Snakes

On And On

The Water's Cold Embrace:

Act 1:

ᡣ𐭩 Chapter 1: The Winds of the Undercity {1.2K}

ᡣ𐭩 Chapter 2: Turkey and Cheese {2.7K}

ᡣ𐭩 Chapter 3: Sack of Potatoes {2.9K}

ᡣ𐭩 Chapter 4: ... ⏳

Act 2: ⏳

Extras/Out of order parts: ⏳

[starsinmylatte]

Hiiii I just recently discovered your blog and omg your writing is so good?? Damn I’m impressed

Idk if you’re taking requests, if not just take this as a general ask, but I’m obsessed with the idea of Silco and a reader who is like a mother to Jinx after I read that “soft” (i think that was the name?) fic… and I was wondering, how do you think it would get to that point? Surely it must’ve been hard for Silco to accept that this woman would just come into the last drop demanding to see his little devil of a daughter and taking care of her… enemies to lovers much? Anyway… just wanted to hear what are your thoughts in how they would come around to become a couple

Ooooh, thank you so much for reaching out, my darling anon!! I appreciate your sweet compliment so much. It made me smile so much during my crappy week 💜

I’d love to write a longer piece about this (and I absolutely will), so I’ll just leave you with a few thoughts for now!

Here's a link to the Soft fic mentioned in the ask! (it is absolutely NSFW, be warned) If you'd like to be added to my taglist for when I post the full thing, click here

Pairing: Silco x fem!reader

Warnings: None, really. This is SFW with the barest hint of suggestive content at the end

At some point, Silco realizes that he either needs to eliminate everyone from Jinx's past life or he needs to use them to connect with her. This strange, incredibly vexing woman is the strongest link to Jinx's past that she still has.

I'm sure that Jinx has a very hard time in the first few weeks after Silco's takeover. It's a struggle to get her to eat, bathe, and just generally take care of herself. She opens up to Silco some, but to his immense frustration that damned woman just keeps showing up and Jinx instantly calms for her.

Silco still has that choice to make. He can forbid the woman from returning (which she's very unlikely to agree to without force), outright get rid of her, or he can just accept her help and try to manage her involvement in Jinx's life.

I think Silco mulls it over quite a bit, especially when Jinx inevitably shuts him out, and he can't connect with her in any way. Killing the woman would be relatively simple, and maybe Jinx could move past the devastating loss, but he can't stop thinking about how his new daughter curls up in her arms.

Silco tells himself he's just being practical, and maybe he is, but the softness with which the woman holds Jinx is the first small chip in his armor towards her.

She does annoy the hell out of him, though, as the only person who can seemingly defy the most feared kingpin in the undercity. He also finds this more attractive than he'd care to admit, which makes him even more sour about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, the woman continues to just show up unannounced to The Last Drop. In an attempt to gain some form of control, Silco finally just snaps and tells her to come on two specific days of the week. Jinx cheers, the woman smiles at him, and Silco instantly realizes that was probably her plan all along. Damnit.

Continuing on with the soup idea from the fic, I think she and Jinx bake together a lot. Silco may have a hard time getting Jinx to eat at every other time, but the little girl absolutely devours anything the woman makes her.

She always leaves out a plate for Silco, which he doesn't eat after that first night. The first reason is because he's petty and still doesn't want to like the woman, and the second is because Jinx will eat the leftovers.

Sevika absolutely loves her, and so do the rest of Silco's staff because the woman has bribed gifted them all with homemade food. They all know her as a woman with a heart of gold who is fiercely protective of Jinx. She's not a threat Silco couldn't handle if he had to, but Sevika does derive some secret pleasure from how badly the incredibly lovely woman vexes her boss.

The first time Silco loses his temper at her in front of Jinx, the little girl cries, and the woman immediately brandishes a rolling pin at him. The sight makes Jinx break out into a small fit of giggles, and Silco just freezes and walks away, muttering under his breath.

Silco can't stop thinking about her, which frustrates him to no end. She's kind but will stand up to a drug kingpin with a fucking rolling pin, she loves his daughter like her own, and she's annoyingly good at cooking. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she stayed.....

I absolutely do think the more Silco realizes he actually likes the woman, the nastier he behaves towards her. He finds some way to rationalize it, but the truth is that he's trying to manufacture a reason to hate her.

I think it all comes to a breaking point one night after the woman puts Jinx to bed. Maybe the woman tries to make some gesture of goodwill towards Silco before she leaves, but he lashes out at her. It starts a yelling match between the two, and they start getting closer together as the argument grows more heated.......

And this is where I'll leave you ;)

[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. 

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty Six

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,700

Warnings: Threats, references to past relationship, mentions of past drugging and assault, breaking and entering, fingering, unprotected sex, intercrural sex, drug mentions.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You had a good view of the Rise from the window of your office. 

Ronid’s apartment complex had been finished slightly behind schedule - to be expected, really. You had managed to be out for a casual walk in a deeply hooded cloak when the opening ceremony was going on, and you had easily spotted Arunn in the group standing behind Ronid. He was slightly to Ronid’s right, joined by Jazper and a few of the other Undercity business owners. Arunn was the one to accept the scissors when Ronid was finished cutting the ceremonial ribbon.

The casual nature of their interaction told you everything you needed to know: Arunn had found a place at the Rise. He was helping Ronid just as he had helped you, and was just as highly depended-upon there. 

You had made accidental eye contact with Jazper as he glanced out into the crowd. Jazper simply offered a sad smile and a shallow nod in your direction before he turned his attention back to Ronid’s speech. 

There were nearly fifty Undercity residents working in and around the Rise. Ronid had employed them as receptionists, groundskeepers, cleaning staff, managers… Cipanni’s electrician friend had sent two of his apprentices to work together on maintaining the apartment building’s power grid and make general repairs. He was always willing to come down and check up on them, but he didn’t have to make many trips. 

Jazper had told you all of this, of course. Arunn had said he didn’t want to have further contact with you, and you were determined to respect his wishes. And despite Jazper’s insistence that he couldn’t continue to speak with you, he found ways to keep you informed. 

Any time you saw the upper floors of the Rise, your mind turned to the state of the Undercity. And since those floors were within easy sight distance, you thought of the Undercity often. 

The Council had never started another Committee. You had been hopeful that they would soften their initial extreme reaction and agree to give the Undercity some sort of representation. But they had never swayed in their opinion and, as the months steadily passed by, you lost hope that it would ever happen. 

But the last time you spoke, Jazper had told you that there were more investors lining up to develop the Undercity. They reached out to him to find out about the business climate and learn more about the types of permits they would need. 

Jazper had meetings set up with a few of these would-be developers over the following weeks. He had promised to emphasize that the current trend of business in the Undercity was intensely focused on corporate social responsibility. If they seemed to have a bigger interest in turning a profit than helping the people, Jazper would urge them to look elsewhere. 

It was wonderful that you could continue to be part of the Undercity’s continued growth, but it hurt that you had to do so from the outside.

Patients still flooded into the Haven for help with their Shimmer addictions. If anything, the number of patients had increased in the past few months. When you asked a few people why they had chosen to come in then, they had told you that the Undercity was opening up. They had a chance to build better lives, and the first step was breaking their dependence on Shimmer. 

HexTech’s donations had kept you afloat, but they weren’t enough to cover everything. Your grant applications weren’t accepted at nearly the rate they had been before your ties to Silco had been made public, but they also weren’t automatically denied anymore. The refusals you got were because of details you had missed or a flood of worthy applications, not because of Silco. And the grants you did win helped fill in the gaps around what HexTech gave you. 

Most importantly, there hadn’t been another break-in. The patients could feel safe at the Haven, and that could only help them recover faster. 

Of course, break-ins didn’t have to be violent to be disconcerting. 

“Hey,” Fletcher called, drawing your attention. He was perched at the top of the stairs while you worked in the kitchen, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s waiting for you in your office.” 

With that ominous warning, you took a second glance at Fletcher’s face. The lines of his expression were deep and taut, his posture rigid. He was scared. 

You put down the bowl of ingredients you had been mixing, briefly rinsing your hands before you started for the stairs. “Thanks for letting me know, Fletcher. Can you take over for me while I’m gone? This shouldn’t take long.” 

Fletcher made a strangled sound, but nodded. You continued to your office as quickly as possible without running. If Silco was back, you hoped to handle him without a lot of fuss. You had told him exactly what you thought of his proposal for a resumed deal the last time he came to the Haven uninvited, but Silco was nothing if not persistent…

“I told you-” you started as you pushed the door open, but the eyes that met yours weren’t a mismatched green and orange. Instead, they were a brown that managed to be cold and piercing. “Sevika.” 

She didn’t bother answering aloud, offering only a curt nod in reply to your greeting. You stepped inside and closed the door behind yourself, feeling rather like you were closing yourself in a cage with a dangerous animal. 

But the Undercity was all about appearances. You kept your chin high and your face unworried as you circled the office to sit behind your desk. When you were seated, hands folded on the desk in front of you, you addressed Sevika directly. “What can I do for you?” 

“Accept Silco’s offer.” 

You gaped at that for half a second before you recovered enough to shake your head. “Direct as ever. But no, I can’t do that.” 

Sevika stared at you grimly, a muscle twitching in her jaw. 

You met her stare evenly, trying to look as casual as someone speaking to a friend over a hot drink. “Anything else?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I-” You sighed lightly, pushing it through your nose to keep the sound to a minimum. “My reputation has suffered badly enough for having a known association with Silco. If it ever…” 

You paused, remembering at the last second who you were speaking to. Sevika was nothing if not loyal to Silco, so showing your weak spots was not the best way to go about things. “If anyone realized that I had willingly continued that association with him even after all of the repercussions, it would ruin what little reputation I have left.” 

“So that’s it?” Sevika asked, sounding thoroughly disgusted. “You’re going to throw everything away for your reputation?” 

“No, I threw away my reputation for everything Silco offered,” you corrected. “Now I’m just trying to make things right. That means going about things the right way. Which also means not accepting any more deals from your boss.” 

“He’s making everyone miserable,” Sevika bit out, clearly unhappy with your reasoning. “He’s been in a shit mood since you kicked him out of here - the first time - and you’re not doing any better than you were before you decided to give all the work to someone else.” 

“That’s not what happened,” you snapped. 

“Really?” she asked, giving you a knowing smirk. “Because it sure looks like you saw a way to pass all of this place’s problems along to Piltover while you sat around and told everyone that you’re an expert.” 

You ground your teeth. “Not that you care, but that isn’t fair. Maybe I shouldn’t have believed Piltover when they said that they wanted to work on fixing things. But it’s not like I was going to shut the Haven down. I had plans for who would take over the daily operation, grant applications I was going to write so the doors could stay open, and connections to make sure the Undercity’s opportunities kept growing. I was never going to abandon this place-” 

“No, but you were going to abandon Silco.” 

That made you blink in stunned silence for far too long. “Abandon? Silco? That’s putting too much on our relationship. That makes it sound like he cares-” 

“He does,” Sevika interrupted again. “Haven’t you been listening? Nothing affects him this way, especially when it’s something that doesn’t impact his business or his family. But he’s pissed, and he’s been pissed since you cut him off.” 

“Charming,” you managed, weakly rolling your eyes. “But I can’t live my life based on what Silco wants.” 

“And what about what you want?” she asked. “I saw the way you were when Silco was drugged.” 

“You mean when I agreed to protect him at great risk to myself and my business?” you asked, doing your best to push away the sick fear that washed over you at the mention of it. “I’m sure I looked upset, but that doesn’t mean I care about Silco.” 

Sevika snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

You sighed. “I don’t think this conversation is going to go anywhere. Is there something else you want from me? Because I’m not changing my mind about taking Silco up on his offer to resume our deal.” 

She watched you for a long moment, dark eyes studying your every feature. Eventually, though, she sighed and stood up. “I know you aren’t stupid enough to think he’s going to let this go without a fight. Even if you won’t admit it, everyone knows that you and Silco care about each other. You don’t get that scared without something behind it.” 

“Whatever we might have had is behind us,” you insisted, following her to the doorway of your office. “Thank you for coming, though. I know Silco appreciates having someone to look out for him.” 

“For your sake, I hope you’re right about things being in the past,” Sevika said, and it sounded like a warning. “Otherwise, denying him isn’t going to make him happy.” 

There didn’t seem to be a good response to that, so you bit your tongue and silently closed the door behind her.

The conversation with Sevika had you on-edge for the next few days. Every knock on the door made your heart stutter, you flinched every time someone called your name, and footsteps on the street behind you made your own steps quicken. 

You didn’t think Silco would attack you, but Sevika was right: Silco didn’t let go of the things he considered ‘his’. Not easily and never without a fight. He was more likely to damage something he couldn’t have than let someone else enjoy it. 

The thought made you pause, chest feeling tight. If you even gave the appearance of forming another connection with someone - sexual or romantic - you had no doubt that Silco would reappear with plenty to say about it. 

You didn’t hate the idea. And you hated that you didn’t hate it. 

Did you have feelings for Silco? You didn’t think so… but what if you were so deep into denial that you couldn’t tell any longer? You despised doubting yourself like this, but Sevika had made some excellent points. You couldn’t remember being as scared as you had been when she had shown up at your doorstep with a drugged and bloodied Silco in tow. 

Not when you realized Silco actually had released information about your business ties. Not when Piltover canceled the task force. Not even when Arunn had left and all of your grants had dried up. 

You pulled up short in your pacing, swearing as loudly as you could without drawing unwelcome attention. Laid out like that, there was only one conclusion you could draw:

You had feelings for Silco. 

Maybe not love. Not anything so pure or straightforward, but there was something there. There had to be. Otherwise, you would have rejoiced at the idea that Silco may die. You would take advantage of this situation as a clean break. You would never look back, and you certainly wouldn’t be aching to resume your deal with him. You wouldn’t long for something more…

With that disconcerting realization, you shut off the lights in your office and retreated to your room. There was nothing to do from here but go to bed and hope that things would resume some semblance of normalcy tomorrow. 

Falling asleep seemed to take an eternity, but when you finally managed to slip into blissful unconsciousness, you found that your brain still wouldn’t stop. You turned onto your side for what was easily the tenth time, sighing lightly as you tried to fall back into whatever semblance of sleep you had managed. 

The bed dipped behind you, an arm slipping around your waist at almost the same instant. You squeaked in alarm, but your recognized the voice that shushed you. Besides, with the dim orange light bathing the covers ahead of you, there was little doubt who it was. 

“Did you miss me so desperately, pet?” 

The smooth purr of Silco’s almost made you shiver, but you managed to fight it off. “Never. Why are you here?” 

Silco gave an amused chuckle. “Sharp words, yet I notice you haven’t moved away from me. Perhaps you do not hate me as fiercely as you claim to.”

“I never hated you,” you disagreed, almost smiling when Silco made a wordless sound of skepticism. “Though I got pretty close when you ruined my job.” 

“Let us talk of more pleasant things,” Silco demurred. “Sevika tells me that she came to visit you today. She had an… interesting theory about your reaction when I was drugged. I remember little of that day, so you will have to tell me if there is any truth to it.” 

“I would prefer not to discuss that day.” You were glad you hadn’t turned to face him directly. Silco had always been disconcertingly good at reading your expression, and you didn’t want to know what he would find written across your face.

Unaware of your internal worries, Silco paused. “Because you find me a loathsome, power-hungry despot who craves to rule Zaun with an iron grasp? Or is there another reason?” 

“That isn’t fair,” you objected. “I may have been uncomplimentary, but I never said any of that.” 

“Can you tell me that you did not think it?” Silco pressed, smirking when you stayed silent. “In that case, perhaps we should speak of more pleasant things. Or nothing at all.” 

Your sleep-addled mind believed that he meant to leave, and your heart rebelled at the idea. You had an instant to berate yourself - just because you loved him didn’t mean you could lose all sense of rationality - but that train of thought was derailed when Silco’s lips descended on the curve of your neck. 

The wordless moan escaped before you could even try to hold it back. Silco hummed approvingly. “That’s it, pet. I missed you, too. Missed this.” 

Even as he murmured low praises in your ear, Silco’s hand wandered downward until he could cup your breast in his hand. His thumb found your nipple easily even through the bedsheets and the cotton of the shirt you were wearing. Apparently, it wasn’t enough for him, since his hand dipped inside both barriers in an instant. 

Silco’s touch was just as addictive as it always had been, sweet and necessary and so damn good that you found yourself growing more obsessed with it by the moment. 

“I cannot tell, pet,” Silco said lazily, pausing to nip at the soft curve of your jaw. “Do you want this? Want me? Perhaps I should stop…”

“No, Silco!” Your hand rose to clamp over the back of his, holding him in place. “Keep going. I need you.” 

His laugh was low and a little mean. “Precisely what I hoped you would say.”

The hand still disappeared from under yours, leaving your breast feeling cold and neglected. When Silco’s fingers wormed their way under the thin barrier of your pajama pants and the panties you had already soaked, you were able to forgive the loss. 

He parted your folds with easy familiarity, fingertips dipping just inside of your entrance before dragging your wetness up to draw circles against your clit. You groaned, hips bucking toward the delicate touch. It had been so long since you had been touched by any hands but your own…

“Silco,” you moaned, clinging to the arm he had hooked over you. 

Silco growled something unintelligible in response, scooting closer to your back. He didn’t stop until he was close enough for you to feel how affected he had been by your reactions. You pressed your ass back against him, smiling when he ground himself against the curve of your rear. 

“You’re ready for me, pet,” Silco murmured in your ear, an edge of desperation gilding his tone. “Aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping when he plunged two fingers deep into your heat. You writhed as he spread and scissored them inside of you, testing to see whether you had been telling the truth. 

Your body accepted him easily, greeting him with a rush of slickness that eased his movements and made them feel utterly heavenly to you. He gave a dark chuckle, nipping at your earlobe as you gasped and bucked back against him. 

“My lovely little philanthropist,” he purred. “I’m pleased to know that you’ve grown no less perfect in the time we spent apart.” 

“You still like to talk,” you replied, earning another laugh. 

Your groan nearly drowned him out as we pulled his fingers free of you. The only thing that kept you from whining outright was that his hands dipped behind you. The clinking of a belt being undone was clear, followed by the sound of someone hastily undressing. 

Silco grabbed your thigh, tugging your leg backward and over his hip. You shuddered as the movement exposed your scorching core to the coolness of the room, then again as you felt the head of Silco’s cock notch into you. 

You ground your hips down and into him just as he surged forward and up into you. The result was a thrust that took him nearly hilt-deep inside of you with a suddenness that knocked both of you off-balance. Silco shouted in surprise while you gave a higher cry, loud enough that you worried it would be heard outside of the room. 

And then, you stopped caring about that, because Silco gripped your hips and took up a steady rhythm. 

Your position didn’t give you much room to counterthrust in response to Silco’s movements, and something told you that he had planned it that way. But you did your best, grinding back and inching forward in reaction to whatever he was doing, and squeezing him with the muscles of your core wherever he bottomed out inside of you. 

His heavy breaths panted from behind you as you stared blindly at the light filtering past the closed curtains of your window. Every scrap of your attention was focused on what was happening inside of you, as the coil of your release wound tighter and tighter. There was only so long you could last before you would explode into orgasm, and you were determined to bring Silco with you. 

You reached back over your own thigh to sink your nails into Silco’s asscheek, craning your head back to silence his hissed complaints with a kiss. His pounding rhythm stuttered momentarily and you smiled against his lips. He nipped at you in a teasing retribution, fingertips searching out your clit at the same time. 

A few tiny circles was all it took to send you sailing over the edge, far past any hope of regaining your wits. You were grateful for Silco’s lips on yours. They helped dampen the sound of the wail your orgasm pulled from you. 

You collapsed, breathless and oversensitive as Silco continued to thrust into you. When he finally reached his own climax, he withdrew from you, closed your legs, and finished by pounding between your thighs. The warm spill of his cum over the front of your legs made you dread the prospect of getting up to change the sheets, but it was all worth it. You truly had missed Silco, and there was a peace that came from having him share your bed. 

Eventually, you and Silco regained your breath. He was tracing gentle circles on your bare shoulder and you were massaging the thigh he had wrapped over your legs. “I missed you, pet.” 

The low admission made you smile. “I missed you, too. More than I thought I would.” 

“I always knew I’d miss you.” 

The admission made you frown. Silco, being sincere? You turned over to face him directly, but a sharp knock at the door made you sit up before you could complete the motion. 

“Silco-” 

The bed was empty. Not just empty, but still partially made. When you touched it, the sheets were cool against your hand. You glanced down to check, and found that you were still fully dressed, even if your underwear was a little damp. 

The pounding against your door came again, this time accompanied by Yi’s voice. “Are you awake? I’m coming in.” 

If you hadn’t been fully awake before, the tension in Yi’s voice chased the last bit of sleep from your brain. When she opened the door and stepped inside, her face was tight with the same tension.

Your heart sank. “What’s going on?” 

“You need to see this.” 

Yi crossed to your window, pushing the curtains aside as you joined her. The street was awash with activity. People were everywhere - shouting and fighting and screaming just to scream. There was a fire growing at one end of the street that people were dancing around. The workers at the brothel it was in front of were trying to put it out by dumping water from an upper floor, but the people on the ground threw rocks and trash every time the workers appeared at a window. 

“What happened?” you asked eventually, watching the carnage with horror. 

Yi’s lips were pressed into a firm line. “Silco leaked Shimmer back into the Lanes."

---

Author's Note -

I kept forgetting to mention this in previous chapters, but this is officially a post-Arcane season one AU. With Arcane season two getting ready to drop, I can't guarantee that any of the future chapters will be canon-compliant. But that's okay, we can just make our own canon!

Anyway, Silco's such an ass, isn't he?. Even (especially) when he's not really there.

Thanks for reading! I'll see you again soon with another chapter!

[grugruel]

The Game

Pairing: Silco x f!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You and Silco like to keep things interesting by playing a game. Its your turn now, heat flares and tempers rise.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Established relationship, hints of smut, brief choking, mentioned degrading, tension? Elutions to sub!dom!silco towards the end.

I throw the doors to The Last Drop open, making my grand entrance.

Smoke billows out through the opening, it curls around my vision as it mixes with the impure air of Zaun and all heads in the club turn toward me.

An uscher of whispers rumble through the crowd and the music suddenly halts. A mans low whistle can be heard ringing out through the crowd, aswell as the consequent "ow" and "hush" as the man next to him elbows him in the side, giving him a stern look in warning.

I was off limits to everyone but one man, and that was considered common knowledge in Zaun.

I take a step inside, smiling devilishly, approving of the general public reaction.

I let the doors slam shut behind me, welcoming the familiar embrace of the murky, green tinted darkness of the club as it envelopes me. I gaze around the room, searching for him.

I am counting on him to be in his office already, as It was a crucial part of my plan for dramatic effect. And when married to a man like him, one couldnt help but look for him in every room you enter.

All that im met with though, is an array of mixed emotions, smiles, glances and a bunch of wide eyed men and women. The crowd was divided between those who, had they not know was good for them, would hollar and applaud my confidence or those who would be scared half to death and couldnt even dare throw a glance my way.

Most bastards, however. Had already let their slack-jawed chins hit the floor at the first sight of me, and oh . . . was I a vision to behold.

Everyone already knew who I was of course, my antics were not news to them, neither were the fact that I am wife to the infamouse Eye of Zaun.

So to explain the situation, Silco and I ha'd been playing a fun little game for some time, just to spice things up. We set two rules of outmost importance, no matter what, we had to follow them.

1. Prizes asked for must be given.

2. Revenge is always permitted.

Meaning whoever manages to outdo the others previous actions in boldness, audacity, mischief etc, wins whatever prize they desire from the other and whatever we did to challenge the other, we could always retaliate however we wanted and those asks had to be met

Usually when it was Silcos turn, he'd experiment, try something new, take me in the hall, in an alley, where anyone could see. Just for the thrill if it, because we can, because who would question him?

But as of late, work has been stressing him and hes been using me. He makes a public display out of me, showing everyone just who I belong to. A power play, of course, reinforcing his claim on me and putting on a show of his brazen nature as for Zaun not to forget who he is.

And he'd do it all with a ravenous gleam in his eye, enjoying every second of my embaressment. But god help any man who makes a remark or even looks at you the wrong way.

And since he has a reputation to uphold, an image to keep clean, being the crimeboss that he is, I had never been allowed to play our game in any type of crowded setting. He needed to be respected and more imporantly, feared. Meaning he could not be put into conpromising positions publicly. Privately was a whole nother situation.

But today, that would be coming to an end. I'd been forced to accept the situation since this whole thing came about, but he needed a reminder of who he married. Although I do not have as important of a position as him, my life did not begin when we married. I was someone before him and I am my own person still.

Blinded by love, and lust. I've let him do whatever he wants to me and although that can be a welcome notion betwix the sheets, it is not when he needs to make an example of someone, not anymore.

Sevika stood leaned against the stairrailings, watching my plan unfold, eyes wide. She sprung into action, ripping the jacket off the shoulders from the unsuspecting man next to her and rushes to cover me up.

She knows you're not the kind of woman who listens to anyone who tells you what to do, with the exception being Silco. And knowing she'd get hell from the man himself if she did anything else than try, she tries.

I reject the jacket of course, gently pushing her away from me. I clasp my hands behind me back and walk slowly towards the bar with her shadowing closely behind me in hope of hiding something from the crowd.

She lowers her head to my height, leaning closer to my ear, a shudder runs through me "He wont be happy" she snarles.

"I know" I answer nonchalantly. And a ghost of a smile flashes over her lips as she shakes her head and turns around, sighing.

I sit down on one of the stools by the bar, watching her as she makes her way upstairs. I order a whiskey and take a look around the room once again, noting all the stares.

"Cmon folks, he'll be down in a minute and you know better than to stare. Get back to it." I say in a low chuckle and they do just that, knowing the truth of my words.

Minutes later Sevika comes back down, she throws me a warning glance that tells me "not in the mood" and a new feeling begins to fester within me, uncertainty. I already knew he'd be cross when I schemed my little plan up, that was foreseen. But now?

I had no time to think of the consequences, because another set of footsteps could be heard a few paces behind her, slow and deliberate. He was already punishing me and I've yet to lay my eyes on him. My stumache flitters despite myself, longing to see how this plays out. Turbulence was to be excpected, but the rewards would be gratifying.

The crowd seems to have heard the destinctive sounds of Silcos footsteps aswell, as their attention turn toward the stairs.

Through the gloom of the lowly lit, smoke filled room, the glowing red of his cigar lights up his features, giving an earie glow to his eye. He looks mightly unimpressed, inhaling a puff of smoke his eyes scan the crowd, eventually settling on my form. Clad in nothing more than the crimson red lingerie that he bought me. He was already incredibly annoyed that you would compromise him like this, but seeing you in the set that he stressed were for his eyes only truly set him ablaze on the inside.

I swiwel the barstool so that I face him completley, the bartender slides my drink toward me and I grab it as I lean back against the bar, forearms supporting me. A pleased expressions washes over my face, this was a serious matter. But I should gloat whilst I still can.

He glares at me for a minute, the club is so silent you could hear peoples breathing, very shallow, careful breaths as they try to avoid catching his attention and possibly turning his displeasure onto themselves.

He takes in my appearance, looking me up and down. Sevika had not known the ordeal of this specific set of lingerie, so she had not conveyed its importance to him.

His patience usually wears thin, but seeing me in the lingerie he clearly told me were for him makes his blood boil.

Turbulence stirs within him, feeling incredible annoyance at your clear disobediance, but also a tinge of impatience to punish you especially since you did look brutally ravishing.

And as if his hair sences his stress, a greying strand of his magnificent hair falls over his eye. He sighs deeply, gathering himself before taking action, he catches the runaway strand by combing his free hand through his hair, placing it perfectly back with the rest.

He moves the hand holding his cigar, wafting it back and forth dismissively as he turns toward the people, adressing them "Avert you eyes ladies and gentlemen, that is my wife." he orders.

"Go ahead, leave, scram, flee." He makes a dramatic shooing gesture and announciates the last word, then taking another drag of his cigar.

He turns to Sevika "Make sure they understand that they did not see anything, then leave you too. No one is to be let in." she nods and posts herself by the door.

The people flock toward the exit, creating a bottleneck effect. Carefully, eagerly even, they follow Silcos directions reinforced by Sevika. They did not need to be told twice, they had already forcibly forgotten the incident and had no intention on stickning around to challenge his temper.

As the last of the crowd have left and the doors slam shut behind Sevika, its only the two of us left, so I stand to make my way to him.

"Stay." Silco says coldly, eyes snapping to me. A shiver runs through my body, I sit back down, crossing my legs, anticipation lining my senses as I smile at him.

We hold eachothers gaze "I missed you" I say.

"So I see" he responds, striding closer, one painstakingly slow step at a time and when hes finally close enough to touch I reach out to him, taking the lining of his tie between my fingers, softly tracing it down his chest, stopping at his vest button to undo it.

He snatches my wrist, holding it closer to him, inhaling the scent of my perfume, loving the way it mixes with the cigar smoke. He kisses my wrist before pinning it to the bar-counter behind me.

Not so easily discouraged, I lean closer to him in an atempt to steal a kiss off of those ruthless lips. I let my eyes fall shut and lean further in until I feel his breath on my skin as I've done so many times before. Heat flashes through me as I imagine the taste of him being less than a mere second away, but my expectations fall short as im met by the the savour of his cigar instead.

"Tsk tsk tsk" he shakes his head "Surely you wouldnt dream it to be this easy my dear?" His tone mocking.

I scoff in pretend defeat as I take the cigar from him, taking a drag and leaning back against the counter again. "I was only teaching you a lesson, husband." I sigh.

"Oh" he exclaims, his demeanor unclear. A mix of entertainment and frustration evidens in his voice "You're teaching me a lesson hmm?" His gaze hardens and an frustrated smile forms on his lips as he awaits my response.

"Naturally."

A gleam of irritation lights in his eye, he takes the whiskey from my hand, studying it carefully as if planning his next move. He takes a slow sip, "So.." he begins, carefully phrasing his words, "Would you like to tell me how come? Because frankly, my dear. Im at a loss here." Agitation evident in his tone.

"Truly?" I question, not sure if he actually wants me to answer that. "I love this little game of ours, it can be... Oh so thrilling" I sigh in reminiscence, thinking back to past adventurez when we've enjoyed eachothers rueful challenges.

"But I do not enjoy to be used as someones puppet, not even yours. You've turned this wonderful game of ours into a show of your power, using me. So, I wanted to teach you a lesson." I repeated myself, nonchalantly.

His gaze bores into my own, furious at your choice of handling the situation, but even more so because theres truth in your words. "I have a reputation." He spits the last word, "How will I be respected if I cannot controll my own woman?" He asks, frustrated.

I sneer, "You forget yourself Silco." Theres venom in my tone, "I may not be known as "The Industrialist" but I have a reputation of my own and it is time I reminded you of it. Zaun will not respect you more for treating me like shit, and your blatant audacity to feel bad for yourself is sickening." I state coldly, and he knows your right, yet he cannot help how your words irk him. His face burns hot with shame.

"Ive let you degrade me in front of thousands of people, just for you to earn your power." I spit back.

"But truth be told, husband. Youre not a king, nor a god, and people will understand that you cannot control me. Ive never been know as conceded woman and I believe I have made that clear today." I fix my gaze sternly on his, making sure hes understood. He glares back, nodding.

Certain hes seen my point, I ease up. Work has taken a toll on him as of late, thats not his fault, but how he chose to counteract it is.

I lean forward again, softening my gaze as I carefully stroke his scar and whisper "You might have chosen me as your bride, but I also chose you, you know."

He sighs, closing his eyes, the anger melting away from him as he remebers you when you first met, and thinks of the woman before him now. Hes loved every version of you that hes had to pleasure to know and hes been incredibly stupid to put you in such positions for his own gain, he will simply find others to make examples of. He meets your gaze again, defeated "Im afraid my dear girl, that you're right, my behavior towards you have been appaling. You win, this time." A releaved expression covers my face as I've gotten my point across.

"However," he says soflty placing both hands on either side of my face, cupping it "That wont stop me from earning my retribution, game rules." He points out, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as a hand slides one hand to the back of my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair, earning him a moan from me.

He strokes my cheek gently with the back of his free hand, then tracing his index finger along my jaw and ending it with a tap at the sharpest point under my ear, "Everything." He says concurrently with the tap.

He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear before continuing to trace his finger down my neck, following it with his gaze, he grabs my throat, squeezing lightly as he carefully yamks me closer to him, making me gasp, "Has." he punctuates, finger tapping again, this time on my artery.

He lets go of my throat an continues to trace his finger outward along my collarbone, stopping at my shoulder, "A." He taps again. Silent anticipation linger between us, as I wonder where this'll end.

He takes the crimson brastrap between his fingers, slowly sliding it off my shoulder as he traces it down to the cup, "Price." He ends, the tension between us culminating, as he taps one last time at the soft flesh of my breast.%I shiver runs along my spine, I lean into again, his lips a ghost on mine.

"Naturally" I whisper against his lips, feeling him smile.

His hands continue downward, coming to a stop at my hips, holding me in place as if I'd ever wish to be anywhere else and melting me completely with his sudden tenderness. But his grip hardens, ready to take what is his. And as much as I would love just that, I was not done and he knew it.

"But, I've yet to claim my price. Game rules." I state, he steps back, knowing that he has to abide by the rules. His eyes shift to mine, pleading and lust battling for controll. "Cruel, cruel woman" he whimpers.

One side of him is itching to do whatever he wants to you and the other begging for you to let him touch you. And you're about to make him beg for it.

[lbulldesigns]

Chat messages between Jinx and Silco

This is part of an interactive fanfiction I am currently working on, Please nobody else but @lullabyes22-blog (who will be responding as Silco) respond.

PowPowtheMeowMeow has created Chat titled "Reunion" PowPowtheMeowMeow has changed their username to JinxTheLooseCannon JinxTheLooseCannon has added Silco_The_Eye to Reunion.

JinxTheLooseCannon: The_Eye_of_Zaun?