#vander x reader fic

[whoreforsexymen]

Strong Drinks & Broken Links 🍺⛓️‍💥 CH. 1

Gray Hair & The Absence of Care

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Pronouns: GN!Reader (for now— please see this post for details)

Rating: SFW, except for strong language and consumption of alcohol (drink responsibly, people). Reader is old enough to drink, despite what Vander thinks.

Word count: 4.7k (the rest are going to be far longer, so be prepared)

Tags: Slowburn, Reader is implied to be 21+ years old, Age Gap, Heavy Use Of Language/Alcohol, Reader might be a little too angsty (I’m sorry), Tense Situations, Vander being the caring mentor type he is but in a poorly thought out way.

Notes: I don't think I've ever posted a fic on this account. So, welcome to my only outlet for the brain rotting obsession I have for this man. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT SEASON 2, OR I'LL FIGHT YOU.

((If any of you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, please lmk!! Ask box is also open for requests/suggestions/comments 🤍 feedback is always appreciated 🤍🤍))

It had been a terrible night so far.

Not only had you been shortchanged more than two-thirds of the agreed-upon pay for a job you’d completed—but that paltry sum had quickly slipped from your grasp entirely, taken by a gang of thugs.

You had to give the undercity credit—it had an uncanny ability to remain a perpetual cesspool. You’d managed to take down two of the muggers, but the third—the one who’d made off with your coin—had slipped away while you were dealing with the others. Just your luck. The payout had been pathetic to begin with, and now you were left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure. It looked like you’d be scraping the dregs of the city to find enough for your next meal, yet again. 

That is, unless you decide to drink your dinner. As well as your sorrows, in the process. The idea struck you as you neared the central bar of the undercity, still sulking as you were making your way back to the shack you called home. The Last Drop. A name that said it all. If there was any place where the undercitizens of Zaun gathered, it was here. No doubt the owner had to be the wealthiest man in the area, though that wasn’t exactly saying much in a place like this. 

You made your decision. A warm meal might be out of reach, but liquor could suffice—if you drank heavily enough, that is. Or at the very least, it might dull the sting of the night’s failures. 

The bar was an eyesore, a hulking building among the rundown structures of The Lanes. A garish neon sign blinked above the entrance, buzzing like an angry fly, casting sickly light on the grime-streaked pavement. Inside, the din of loud music and the clatter of drunken chatter spilled into the street. It was a haven for folks with any background, no matter if they sought business or pleasure within its walls. 

You pushed through the door, noting how no one even bothered to glance your way. That was how you liked it—under the radar, always out of sight, always out of the mind of untrustworthy beings. 

Then again, you didn’t trust anyone anyway.

You duck and weave through the crowd of rowdy patrons, eyes scanning the bar for a table or booth at which you could hunker down and nurse your drink in peace. Your frown deepens beneath the hood of your jacket when you come up empty-handed. Typical. No matter, though. You’d have to order at the bar anyway, regardless of where you sat.

It’s when your eyes settle in the direction of the bar that luck seems to briefly shine upon you—there’s an empty stool. Without hesitation, you make a beeline for it, not wanting some drunken fool to snag it before you could. You practically dive-bomb onto the seat, landing with a small grunt, air knocked from your lungs. After the night you’ve had, this stool feels like an oasis, despite the new absence of oxygen beneath your chest. You settle into it like it’s the only thing left in the world, clutching the seat as if someone might try to commandeer it if you let your guard down low enough.  

The realization dawns on you that, in order to get a drink, you’d have to interact with the bartender. You hold that fact in high regard with contempt. 

Chit-chat? Not tonight– or truthfully any night. You’ve never been crazy about casual conversation. The events of the evening have only soured your mood further, and the last thing you need is some eager bartender trying to make nice. Normally, you’d avoid sitting at the bar for that reason alone, yet here you are.

Thankfully, the bartender pays you no mind, his attention fully set on the patron he’s currently tending to. That is, until said patron leaves and the barman finally turns to you, his new source of focus. 

The sheer momentum with which you rolled your eyes almost knocked you out of your seat. 

“Welcome to The Last Drop. What’ll it be?” His voice is deep, and heavy, garnering a thick accent that clung to every word. 

He’s an older man, though exactly how old is hard for you to pin down. His hair’s gray, his eyes tired, the lines of age having etched themselves into his face long ago. However, there’s something youthful about him—something that makes it hard to tell whether he’s an old-looking thirty or a young-ish fifty. Frankly, you don’t care enough to continue your mental evaluation of him. Age shouldn’t matter when it comes to bartenders. They either know how to pour a decent drink, or they don’t.

You don’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Something strong.” You mutter, your voice mostly flat, but with a hint of irritation that danced along the edge.

The bartender scratches at his graying beard, his gaze thoughtful as he considers your request. You grit your teeth, hoping he won’t try to scam you by giving you something weak and overpriced, just to line his pockets with your hard-earned coin. You’d seen it happen to others, and you’d be a damned fool if you let it happen to you. 

The bartender studies your face, or at least what he can see of it beneath your hood, before his gaze shifts to the shelves beneath the counter. After a moment of deliberation, he selects a bottle with thoughtful ease, pulling the cork out with his teeth. With his free hand, he grabs a tin cup and pours in a copious amount, sliding it toward you with a swift flick of his wrist. You’d almost call it a generous decision on his part, considering the fact that you hadn’t even paid your dues first. His choice to serve you first goes a long way in easing your suspicion, at least for the moment.

You dig into your pocket, retrieving the few gold coins you’d managed to hold onto when dealing with the aforementioned thugs. They weren’t enough for one measly meal, but they were enough for a drink or two– or three, but who’s going to keep track? Certainly anyone but you. You’d only stop once your pitiful wealth ran out. Without a second thought, you toss them onto the bar top, making it unspokenly clear to the bartender that you were hoping for much more than just this one drink. You grab the cup, lifting it to your lips and downing the lot of it in one quick, greedy gulp. The warmth spreads through you almost immediately, and it feels like a small victory over the obnoxious turn your night has taken.

The bartender watches this with a faint chuckle before you slam the empty cup back down onto the counter. He takes it without a word, refills the tiny tin chalice, and begins passing it back. Without missing a beat, you grab the cup from him, draining the contents in a second gulp before he even has time to set the bottle back down. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he remarks casually, his voice low and steady as he finally reunites the bottom of the bottle with the countertop. 

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” you mutter, your eyes fixed on anything but him. The words come out flat, though there’s a weight to them. It’s more than just a refusal to talk—it’s a refusal to let anyone look too closely. You avoid eye contact like the plague. Eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul. And letting someone peer through them is a risky gamble you’ve never been apt to take.

You were clearly beyond uninterested in the beginnings of this conversation. The lack of willingness to be friendly reigning clear as you shove the tin cup towards him yet again. He grabs the empty cup and refills it once more—your third drink in under five minutes. He seems reluctant to hand it back. He maintains a grip on it as he eyes you again, this time much more thoughtful.

“Care to chat about it? Might be healthier than drownin’ yourself at the bottom of a bottle,” he offers plainly.

You give him a sidelong glance, not even trying to mask the edge in your voice. 

“Doesn’t sound like a good business strategy, encouraging your paying customers to cut back.” You fire back quickly, the sharpness of your words outpacing even your annoyance at the unwanted conversation.

The bartender chuckles again, a spark of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. There’s a glimmer of understanding in his smile—maybe he’s seen more than a few like you in this dive. Or maybe, he knows in the same fashion as you, that sometimes it’s more palatable to fill the silence with alcohol than with words.

“Fair point, but I’d prefer to keep my patrons alive. Helps me sleep at night, y’know?” The bartender shoots back, his eyes fixed on you, all too curious about what’s hidden beneath your hood. The conversation quickly turns uncomfortable, a painful reminder of why you’ve never liked bartenders—they always talk too much and ask too many personal questions. As far as you’re concerned, they should stick to the charade for the sake of their regulars, and leave all unsuspecting customers alone. 

The momentum of yet another roll of your eyes causes your head to bob ever so slightly— your hood creeping back towards the line of your hair. The new, incredibly subtle, view of your face made the barman clench the cup in his hands with rigor. 

His eyes narrow slightly, the amusement fading from his voice. 

“Where’re your parents, kid?” He asks, his voice low and in demand of an answer. 

The question hits you like a slap, and for a brief second, you find yourself caught off guard. You’re not someone who’s usually thrown by imbecilic remarks from the residents of The Lanes, but this one? It’s different. Not just the audacity of asking such a personal question, but the clear assumption of your age being made so boldly. 

Your head snaps up, and before you can stop yourself, you push your hood back, breaking your own rule about eye contact. Why? Who knows. Today has already gone off the rails, and you’re too far gone to care. The liquor’s sudden grip on your senses began to cloud your judgment, and honestly, it was far from shocking. To be fair, you had asked for something strong… Not to mention having no substantial food in your belly to dilute the potency you sought after. All in all, there was no ignoring how the liquor was starting to pummel you like a brick to the face would. 

You meet his gaze, eyes scanning his face for any sign of what he’s gunning after by asking such a question. But there’s nothing obvious behind those gloomy eyes of his. No clear motive. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to get under your skin or if he’s just another fool with a quick tongue. 

“Rotting in their graves,” you mutter, voice sharp and, in addition, spiteful. 

“Which I’m sure you’ve got one foot in, yourself, Gramps.” You make a mockery of the decades that are clearly stacked against you, hoping to push him back into his corner.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he practically snorts, running a hand over his silvery beard as he crosses his arms; resting them across his stomach with the casual authority of someone who’s seen it all. He’s not rattled by your quips—no, not in the slightest. 

“How old are you, kid?” His voice is flat now, a hint of something more serious creeping in, though you can’t figure out why. You’re even more unsure now about his intentions. Constantly expecting the worst from people was your lot in life. 

“Too young for you.” You snap back, pushing forward with your usual sharpness, trying to regain some control over this ridiculous conversation. You reach for the cup he had refilled for you, but before you can even graze it, he snatches it away, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tuts at you, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I asked how old you were.” he repeats, his voice now devoid of any amusement. 

He watches you carefully, his gaze inspecting your face as if he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know were there.

You roll your eyes, irritation growing, and narrow them at him, unwilling to back down. You can’t tell if he’s probing for something deeper, or if he’s just getting off on making you uncomfortable. Either way, you’re done playing his game.

“Why are you so curious, huh?” you scoff, leaning in and making a bold decision to double down on your irritation. “I’m just another patron here to drown in my sorrows and drink them away. Not to mention, I’m paying for the privilege.” Your words are bold, and with that same boldness, you reach across the bar and rip the cup from his grasp.

You try to bring the drink to your lips, intent on finishing it off. But just as the cup nears your mouth, the bartender’s large, rough hand slips over the opening of the cup like a solar eclipse. 

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a look that could strip paint. In that moment, something clicks in his mind. The defiance in your voice, the way you’re carrying yourself—it all reinforces his suspicion. You’re not old enough to be here. When you walked in, your hood had obscured most of your face. But now that it’s gone, he can see it clearly: you’re just a kid, trying to score some alcohol. The only thing that kept him from throwing you out on your ass, was your cadence. You looked young, and spoke carelessly, but you sounded grown. If you were in fact grown, he’d ease up. 

However, with the way you look—bloodied and bruised, no less—he’s convinced you’re in some kind of trouble. The kind of trouble he doesn’t want being drug through his bar. He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve pissed off, or what kind of people you run with. But this? This is his bar, and he’s fought too hard to maintain the fragile peace that reigns here. He won’t let you ruin that for him and his loyal patrons by dragging your poor choices in with you. 

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” he says, his voice no longer playful but flat and serious. “Either tell me your age, or you’re cut off.”

The room seems to hush around you. The muffled chatter of patrons behind you fades as the bartender’s tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. It’s a quiet threat now, the kind that lets you know exactly how much leverage you have—and how little he’s willing to tolerate.

“You didn’t strike shit,” You hiss. “and I don’t need to answer to shit.” You add. 

The bartender bends over the counter, his face inches from yours. The bitter scent of smoke hangs thick on his breath, hot and rancid, and it presses against your skin like a physical weight. The damp air in the bar swirls around you, brushing your cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth that feels suffocating, as if the room itself is closing in.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have no problem lettin’ my loyal patrons cut your tongue out for us to hang above the bar.” He says fiercely. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching the eyes of the dozens of patrons who have fallen silent, their conversations and business abruptly halted. It’s clear—they’re waiting for a signal, ready to back up their beloved bartender if things escalate.

“You can call off the cavalry, Gramps. I was just leaving,” you retorted, swiping one of your coins from the counter, as if to refund yourself for the drink you’ve yet to have. You release your grip on the cup, almost slingshotting it backwards from the sheer force you two had each been bestowing upon it. 

“Sit down.” the bartender commands, his voice low and final, as you attempt to abscond. 

You don’t reply, instead moving to shoulder through the row of patrons who are standing like silent sentinels, waiting for the slightest nod from their bar’s gatekeeper. It’s not like you expected them to part, but the way not a single person dares budge makes your blood boil. The crowd might as well be a wall of stone. 

“Sit. Down.” the bartender demands again, his tone sharper this time, a razor edge cutting through the haze of the bar.

You grind your teeth, your patience wearing thin.

“I’ll take my patronage elsewhere—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, pushes you roughly back. You stumble, barely managing to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass. The sudden movement sends a rush of heat to your head, the anger spiking through your veins like fire.

You seethed at the touch, the anger burning hot in your chest, every muscle in your body coiled with frustration. But you knew better than to keep pushing your luck. Not today. Not in a situation like this, with dozens of hungry eyes watching, their hands twitching near their weapons of choice, waiting for the slightest excuse to make a move.

Biting back a torrent of curses, you forced yourself to swallow your pride, choosing to stay quiet—at least for now. It wasn’t worth the fight. You could practically feel the heat of their glares digging into your back as you turned on your heel, eyes locking once more with the bartender’s. You reclaimed your seat at the bar with deliberate flair, each movement oozing a sense of defiance and attitude. It was a performance, one you were used to. To you, it felt like you were playing the part of someone tough. But you knew, deep down, that to anyone else—especially the bartender—you probably looked like nothing more than a naive, immature idiot who didn’t know when to shut up. It wasn’t a great look, but at least it kept people from getting too close.

“I’m sat,” you muttered, voice brimming with the remnants of your irritation.

The bartender shook his head slightly, a hint of amusement creeping back into his expression. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate, the energy shifting as the crowd behind you resumed their rowdy conversations. The noise began to swell again, and for a moment, it almost felt like the bar was returning to some semblance of normalcy.

He grabbed a dirty glass from the counter, handling it with practiced ease, and pulled a rag from beneath the bar. As he began polishing the glass, he didn’t so much as glance your way. His focus was on the glass, and for a few moments, it felt like you were nothing more than a background detail to him. You could feel your impatience growing with each passing second. If he had something to say, you wished he’d just say it already. At least that way, you could get out of here—and maybe keep some of your pride intact.

The bartender continued his slow, methodical motions, running the rag around the rim of the glass with an almost exaggerated calmness. He didn’t bother to look up, yet you could feel the weight of his gaze on you through the silence.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said, his tone neutral, almost too much. “How old are you?”

You weighed your options. If you didn’t answer, you had no idea what would happen next. If you did answer, you still had no clue. It was a gamble either way.

“(Insert age here),” you muttered, the words slipping out begrudgingly, each one like a weight lifting off your chest.

The bartender scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him that made your skin crawl. Your fingers began tapping impatiently on the bar’s edge, the rhythm a soft counterpoint to the growing tension between you.

“____ years old and still so naive… You really are just a kid, eh?” His words hung in the air, his eyes still locked on the glass in front of him, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There are worse things I could be,” you shot back, your voice laced with a mix of defensiveness and defiance.

“S’pose that’s true,” he replied, finishing up his polishing with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. He set the glass down next to the others—clean, polished, and waiting to be used. With a fluid motion, he slung the rag over his shoulder, then placed one hand on his hip and the other on the edge of the counter. He shifted his weight, leaning just slightly into the bar, his posture relaxed yet somehow still imposing.

“But on the other hand,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “what you already are ain’t too good either.”

It wasn’t a threat—more of an observation, one that hung heavily in the air, like the smoke in the room. You felt the weight of it, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was a warning or just another way to mess with you. Either way, you could tell this conversation wasn’t over.

You could feel the first few bubbles of anger rising in your chest, the heat creeping up your neck as your blood threatened to boil. You’d always been quick to anger—an unfortunate side effect of your temper and stubborn streak. They were the crosses you’d carried for as long as you could remember.

You scoffed again, the sound sharp and biting, as if it were the only defense you had left. You had already rolled your eyes a dozen times tonight, but it felt like you were on the verge of an explosion.

“What’s your goal here, Gramps?” you spat, your voice dripping with sass, every word a little jab. You didn’t care to hide your bitterness. You liked to fight with words just as much as you did with your fists, and the bartender was starting to see that loud and clear.

“You got the answer you were looking for. Whether you believe me or not, you’ve already served me twice. If my age was such a concern to you, you would’ve kicked me out long before I even sat down.” Your words hung in the air once more, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

He just let out a quiet laugh, as if your logic amused him. And he didn’t bother to answer, not even in the slightest.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, and it was clear he wasn’t going to explain himself. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of an explanation. He simply leaned back, eyes flicking over to the rowdy crowd behind you.

It was infuriating.

You stayed silent for a beat, but only because you knew you’d have more to say. And damn right, you did.

“Do you do this with every new customer?” You snapped, your voice rising now, the frustration boiling over. “’Cause if you ask me, I’m not sure how this shithole’s still in business. You discourage your customers from drinking, even though this is a fucking bar, and that’s all people come here to do. You make it impossible to drink peacefully, just like you make it impossible to drink at all!”

The words spilled out like fire, each one more forceful than the last. Your temper was no longer something you were trying to hold back—it was running rampant, and it felt good to let it out, even if it was in the form of a scream. You weren’t about to let this bartender—this stubborn old man—have the upper hand. Not when it felt like he was deliberately pushing your buttons.

“So if it’s alright with you, Gramps, you got your answer, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m leaving.” You actually raise your voice purposefully this time, slamming your hands down onto the counter as you push yourself off of the stool once more. 

The bartender wasn’t fazed by your outburst. In fact, he’d dealt with feistier, louder, and much more difficult people than you—people who could out-shout you or out-punch you if they had to. He wasn’t bothered by your temper. He had raised four kids on his own, after all. He’d learned a thing or two about handling stubborn personalities, whether they were kids or grown adults who carried themselves like children. And you, in his eyes, were just another brat testing his patience.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was steady, calm, and authoritative, with an edge of finality that cut through the noise of the bar.

Before you could react, his hand shot out faster than you expected, grabbing your shoulder with an unexpected gentleness. He tugged you back into the seat with a kind of effortless force that made your breath catch in your throat.

You shot up from the bar stool in a flash, but his hold was stronger than you anticipated.

Instinct kicked in, and your own hand shot out like a snake, grabbing his wrist with a quick, almost violent motion. You shoved it off your shoulder, irritation flaring up like wildfire.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, the heat of the moment burning in your eyes.

You huffed, your fists clenching at your sides, teeth grinding. The room seemed to close in around you, but you weren’t backing down—not now, not after all of this. The tension between you and the bartender was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the weight of the crowd’s silent attention being drawn to you once more as they waited for your next move, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t have time to be.

The man let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment. 

“Look, kid—”

“By the fucking god’s, I’m not a kid!” you snapped, your eyes flashing a level of ferocity that sliced straight through him.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, his gaze cemented on you still as he took a long, steadying breath. Patience was his virtue, and he was willing to endure this sparring match for as long as it took. 

“It’s clear you’re in some kind of trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe, just maybe, instead of lashing out, you could let someone help—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your words an unpleasant interruption.

“Help? You want to help? Surely that’s the wrong word. Surely, I heard you wrong, cause, from the way I see it, you’ve done nothing except cage me in here, threaten me, and withhold what I paid for. So if it’s with any consolation, take your ‘help’ and fuck off.” 

Enough was enough. Without another word, you climbed atop the stool, bracing yourself for what came next. You steadied your balance, then launched yourself toward the crowd with calculated precision. The dismount was quick—intentional, forceful. You tucked your legs in, soaring over their heads in a perfect flip, and extended them just before hitting the ground behind them. Without pausing, you bolted for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, you made it—flying through the door and slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying crash. Finally, you were free, never to be seen within a hundred yards of this bar ever again. 

The patrons had made a half-hearted attempt to grab at you as you rushed past, but a sharp, deafening whistle from the bartender stopped them in their strides. He shook his head softly, a silent message that it wasn’t worth the chase. That it was better to let you go. If you were in trouble, it would catch up with you soon enough.

Deep down, the bartender hated seeing someone so young seal their own fate in such a way. But, in the end, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t save them all—no matter how badly he wished he could.

He couldn’t help but wonder— if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too assertive, or downright impetuous with you after all.

But it didn’t matter now. You were gone. All he could do was hope you’d survive out on those streets. 

taglist: @blogforhoes @committingcrimes-2047 @dirtandcrime @eternalgoddessofart @woozulo @lutaaaslostacc-d8 @heidiland05 @sugaaawaraaa

[motthe]

Maybe some Young! Silco fic? (Or anything that you wanna do) I already loved his older version but his Young self in The last episodes got my heart in a grip 😭💖💖 He looks so full of dreams and maybe a little silly. Maybe with a energetic/chaotic significant other!

young!silco also has me in a death grip don't worry. hope you enjoy this!!

warnings: fem!reader, violence, sexual innuendos, secondhand embarrassment for drunk rambling

“It’s doable!”

“Doable and survivable are two very different things.”

Vander knocked his head against the metal backing of his mining gloves repeatedly, aching for the two of you to come to a compromise. The light of the fungi matched the tink tink tink of his patience running thin.

Crunching footsteps had him pausing, one eye opening to find Felicia pushing her helmet up higher on her head as she stared at you and Silco just beyond, still very much squabbling. She leaned on her hip, one hand rising to rest on it as she smiled down at Vander’s hunched form.

“Are they still arguing about the gap?” she whispered.

He groaned quietly instead of answering. It was all she needed.

“I can make it!” you protested, arms gesturing to the other side of the ravine. “I’ve jumped buildings twice the distance.”

“When you’re jumping buildings you can see the ground,” Silco argued, pointing to the darkness below. “We don’t know how long a fall that is, you absolute lunatic.”

“You’ve gotta hand it to her,” Felicia chuckled, taking up camp next to Vander. “No one else would even think of jumping across.”

“She’s an adrenaline junkie,” Vander muttered. “Jumping off shit is all she thinks about.”

“Would you—just let me—damn it, Sil!”

The shuffle of boots and clothes had both of their heads turning, watching with equally amused expressions as Silco passed by with you being half carried half dragged away from the ravine. Silco didn’t pay them a glance as he went. You kept stretching back the way you came, struggling but not truly putting all your energy into it. Felicia could tell. You loved being his center of attention for as long as possible, even if it kept you away from your wild pastimes. 

The sound of a horn echoed through the caves, sending the fungi white with the sound. The work day was finished. 

“Back to the last drop, then?” Felicia hummed, standing and offering a hand to the big man. He accepted it with a soft grin, following her out. The two of them watched Silco far ahead, who was now fully carrying you in your grieved state. You kept muttering you could have made it.

“Think they’ll ever get together?” she hummed, nudging Vander.

“Wish they would,” he sighed. “It was annoying years ago, now its just pitiful.”

She laughed, waving a hand at you when you pulled your head up from Silco’s shoulder to eye them. “Well, she’ll never do it. She’s convinced herself he’s too focused on our cause to ever settle down.”

“Some days I think the same thing,” Vander said, introspective when she glanced up at him, “others, I catch him looking at her. He doesn’t open up, barely does around us, but…”

“Disappears around her, yeah?” She smiled at him and he mirrored her, nodding.

Later that night, the Last Drop was bustling with the newest record added to the box. You’re dancing over chairs, running across the edge of the pool tables as people chant your name. Someone tossed a mug through the air and you caught it, swallowing the contents down and cheering with the rest before continuing on with dancing. 

Silco watched from his bar seat. He had cruel timing, turning his eyes back to his notebook when you pulled yourself away from the crowd to glance at him. To you, he was lost in his own world, but really he fell into yours quite easily. You were distracting. He perked up at the sound of your voice without meaning to, knew the outline of your body in his periphery. Abrasive and chaotic. You’re too much, too loud.

Too perfect for someone as withdrawn and stiff as him.

“Oh, heaven help me,” Vander grumbled, both hands on the bar as he stared at the scene. Silco paused to raise an eyebrow at him. “She just downed three shots in one.”

“How many does that make it now?” he questioned.

“Eight.”

Both of their heads dropped, knowing how the night would be going.

“All right, I give!” Felcia slammed a hand on the bar as she walked up, panting. “I can’t keep up with her. Gods. Where does she get the energy?”

Vander passed her a drink as Silco shrugged, music blaring all around them. Felicia scowled when she noticed his journal. 

“Oh, c’mon, Silco. Let loose for a bit!” she shouted over the din of the bar, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If I did that, nothing would ever get done around here,” he returned, smirking as she rolled her eyes. 

The counter shook under them, the second bang of Vander’s fist sending both of them on high alert. Two meant trouble. 

Felicia spun around, Silco turned in his seat. There by the record player you were backed against the wall by a man, one arm caging you in while his fingers pinched your chin. The cold look in your eyes had a shiver streaking down Silco's spine. You were a storm like this and he’d been lost to it for years. 

The man said something that made you scoff, batting his hand away and sliding to get out from under him. As his hand grabbed your upper arm Silco realized he was no longer sitting. Even across the room he could read your lips.

“Last chance. Beat it,” you warned.

The man laughed and tugged you closer, it sent your knee right between his legs. When he bent over, Silco heard the crack as your fist met the man’s jaw. He hit the ground, dead weight. 

Fuck, he thought, hands curling into fists at his side. You were perfect.

You stumbled back a few steps. It seemed those shots had soaked in. You were cradling your hand as yells broke out, slow to turn as a couple of goons stood from a table nearby.

“Great,” Felicia puffed, pushing off the bar, “he had lackeys.”

Vander shouted as they ran at you, Silco was halfway to you when you dodged the first swing, putting you straight into the path of another. Your back hit the record player, a scratch disrupting the music. The entire bar turned, regulars rushing forward without second thought and jumping the goons. 

Silco went straight to you, mindful of the chair Felicia was brandishing overhead as she flew into the meat of the fight. 

“Let me see,” he said, sliding a hand under your jaw and tilting your head back. You were hunching, still holding that hand of yours to your chest. 

“Hey, Sil,” you slurred, grinning and wincing. Your lower lip was busted, the right side of your face already beginning to swell from the jaw up. “Can you believe that guy? Down in one hit, hah!”

“Still have all your teeth?” he asked, wiping the blood trailing from the corner of your mouth. 

“What? You want me to open wide for you?”

He ticked a brow, scowling through the heat that flashed through his stomach. 

“Come on, let’s get ice on that,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around you. You hummed happily, falling into his side. Even as drunk as you were, your feet barely stumbled as he led you to the basement door. He nodded to Vander who already had the same idea, coming around the back of the bar to pass him an ice pack and a clean rag. He thanked him.

“Take care of her,” Vander said, rubbing a hand over your back. You tossed the big man a smile before he returned to his station.

“Keep that on there,” Silco said to you, heart aching as you hissed at the touch of it. 

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, hand brushing his. He made sure you kept it pressed to your cheek before opening the door and helping you in first, careful of the stairs as he closed it behind him. The sounds of fighting and the skipping music was muffled as he led you into the bowels of the Last Drop, setting you down gently on the couch.

He reached for your hand, frowning when you turned away from him. 

“Let me see,” he said.

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, curling into the couch.

“I’d like to see that for myself,” he pushed, fingers gentle as they smoothed over your wrist. Your furrowed brow relaxed a bit, watery eyes trailing to him. “Let me see,” he asked again, softer.

You sighed, the weight of your arm settling into his palm as he moved to sit next to you. You hand shook in both of his, the skin of your knuckles ripped open and gushing red. When he attempted to move your pointer and middle fingers you whimpered, head falling into his shoulder.

He apologized, pulling one hand away to reach into his jacket. “It’s sprained. I’ll need to wrap it.”

“Sweet Sil,” you sighed, your good cheek rubbing against his shoulder as you brought your knees up, “always prepared for the worst.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t constantly getting into trouble,” he hummed, pulling out a roll of bandages and beginning his work. You curled into him as he cleaned you up, tensing when he secured your bruised digits. As he tied the bandages off around your wrist, he sighed, holding your hand in his, thumb running over your skin. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffed.

He turned his head, a breath punched from his lungs as he saw tears slipping down your cheeks. The ice pack laid abandoned in your lap. 

“What are you apologizing for?” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“I always make a mess,” you whispered, little gasps slipping. Each one was a bullet to his chest. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry. “I always annoy you.”

“No,” he murmured, arms stretching over you to pull you into his lap, “no, you don’t annoy me, pet.”

“Yes, I do,” you sobbed. “I get into t-trouble when I-when I just want you to look at me.”

Oh, Gods help him. He knew this was the alcohol talking but the hopeful flame in his heart was burning into a torch. He needed to calm you down and get you to bed. 

“I’m looking,” he said, lips grazing your forehead as he rubbed your back. “You don’t have to try so hard. I’m always looking.”

You sniffed and he grabbed the bloody rag, nudging the cleanest corner towards you to blow your nose. He chuckled when you groaned, curling deeper into his chest.

“Too drunk for this,” you mumbled. “Stupid shots.”

“Stupid shots, indeed,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let's get you some water and go to bed.”

You whined, hiding your face in his neck. “Wanna stay here. M’warm.”

He sighed, settling into the couch. Eventually you would nod off. He’d carry you into bed, then.

“Hair’s nice.”

“What?” he chuckled, trying to look down at you, but it was impossible with you smushed up against him.

“Your hair,” you said, lips moving against his neck. “I like it when it’s bun. Hair frames your face nice. S’handsome.”

You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, he thought, holding back his laughter. You were never going to live this down and he wasn’t nearly nice enough to not tease you about this for the rest of your life. 

“Face hurts,” you sighed. He rubbed your calf, shushing you.

“Sleep, pet,” he murmured against your forehead. 

“You’ll stay?” you asked.

“I’ll stay,” he promised.

[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

[zevrra]

thinking about (s1)vander today…how he probably loves cuddling. especially in the mornings when he first wakes up, still half asleep, grumbling a ‘good morning’ while pulling you into his arms even tighter.

or how he probably loves it even more when you wake him up with morning head. pulling him out of whatever dream he was having, just to find you under the covers, kissing down his stomach. following his happy trail like a guide to what you truly desire. he’d lovingly place a large hand on the top of your head, caressing you gently as you strip him of his boxers and get a full view of his morning wood. listening to him groan the second your hand wraps around his thick shaft. you press kisses into the angry red tip, glancing up through your lashes at the disheveled man.

“just couldn’t wait, huh?” he’d grumble but not as a complaint; he would never complain about this. not when your mouth replaces your hand and wraps around the head of his cöck. not when you looked so pretty doing it too. he’d simply pull your hair back and watch with an intense gaze as you did what you wanted.

oh and how he fucking loves it when you get all messy and sloppy with your blöwjöbs. turns him on to no extent when you make sweet, pitiful noises while gagging along his shaft. spit dripping down your chin as tears cling to your cheeks. he’d grunt and groan softly at your handiwork, never taking his gaze off of you. all it does is feed the fire burning in his lower abdomen.

[gingernut1314]

The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist

Content: Female reader x Slico, pre-Arcane season 1, will go into season 1 but much later, young Silco, Vander, Sevika, Felicia, Connol, & baby Viktor, Vi, Powder, Viktor's parents, canon typical descriptions of violence & death, reader has water manipulation powers, sex (further warning in individual part), drugs, smoking, revolution, unrequited love...or is it???, friends to lovers, slow burn, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia/Connol)

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 🖋️= Ongoing 🧨 = NSFW

Setlist: (Full Playlist)

Blood//Water

Love and War

Living in the Shadows

Snakes

Mermaids

The Angry River

Start a War

The Water's Cold Embrace: 🖋️

Prologue:

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

Act 1:

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 2: Turkey and Cheese {2.7K}

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 3: Sack of Potatoes {2.9K}

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 4: Just a Bedtime Story {3.7K}

Act 2:

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 5: Don't Jinx It {4.5K}

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 6: Bit of Friendly Banter {4.1K}

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 7: The Water's Embrace {5.9K}

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 8: Head On {7.6K}

Act 3:

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 9: Like Seahorses Do ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 10: .... ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 11: ... ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 12: ... ⏳

Act 4:

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 13: Wailing Sea Witch ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 14: .... ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 15: ... ⏳

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 16: ⏳

Epilogue:

ᥫ᭡ Chapter 17: The Waters of Zuan⏳

[local-crying-boy]

🅂🄸🄻🄲🄾

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𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖, 𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕟

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝!𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎/𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘, 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝!!! 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 2 𝙰𝙲𝚃 2

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚘𝚙, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>>, 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘, 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>> 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚌𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 359

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The faint, familiar sound of a certain song echoed throughout The Last Drop, the stillness of the room having shifted into a more light-hearted one with the music that was now playing.

There was a small laugh from Vander, who had been cleaning up the bar, a small shake of his head once he had realised what song was playing, again. Silco didn't have much of a reaction, apart from the subtle uplift of his lips, however, it had mostly been hidden from the fact that he was looking down at his notebook. Whereas, you had become so fond of the song that you couldn't help but leisurely swing your head side to side.

The blue haired woman was standing over at the jukebox, freely swaying her body in tune with the music. Her movements were both carefree and (almost) elegant, it could've looked like Felicia was attempting to replicate more of the sophisticated dancing in Topside, but the three of you knew she was just going with whatever she came up with in the moment.

A soft hum alongside the music blended in soon enough, Silco's eyes glancing up and over at you, who was mindlessly nodding your head along to the music - lost in your own world, no doubt.

A doting smile pulled on the man's lips, Vander noticing from his place behind the bar, as he looked over at your relaxed figure. He couldn't help it, he swore, you looked so untroubled in that mind, like the place the four of you called home wasn't such a shit-hole, like there was actually good in this hell.

The way your eyes sometimes shut when you got to a certain part in the song, or when you messed up your whole body would still until you could continue and get it right, that was when his heart was flutter in his chest.

The moment didn't last long, however, he heard the faint, amused breath from Vander, which quickly caused Silco to shake his head and keep his gaze down at his notebook in front of him, shaking his pen in his hand as if he was thinking about what he was writing.

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Masterlist

[vandersbf]

Fluffvember 15

In the firelight/candlelight // “I love you”

Tags: gn reader, reader x vander, fluff, parenting

warnings: vi has a nightmare and wakes up crying, no details about the nightmare are given.

author’s note: done with exams, which means more writing time! I’ve never shared my writing online before so i was nervy but yall have been amazing to me, thank you. :)

You wake up to the sound of crying. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” A hand is placed on your shoulder, the bed creaking as you come to. You sit up slowly, watching him grapple with a shirt, his back turned. The room is dark, and you narrow your eyes as he opens the door, letting in a crack of light. After a moment, you straighten up fully, forcing yourself to step out of bed and follow. 

Soft whispers join the crying, which has started to fade into hiccups as you near the kids’ room. The door is open an inch, and you near the frame slowly, your footsteps light on the cold floor. Vander is kneeling on the floor next to Violet’s bed, cradling her gently while she cries on his shoulder. Across the room, Powder sits with her feet tucked under her, watching her older sister with a nervous expression. She spots you, shrinking a little, and you nod towards her, reaching out an arm. She doesn’t hesitate to silently dart out of bed and to your side, and you wrap an arm around her head, softly carding your fingers through her hair. You reach down to scoop her up, turning to carry her out from the doorway and to the couch in the communal room outside. You make sure to gently shut the door behind you, muffling the noises of her big sister’s wails. 

You plop down on the couch together, and Powder burrows into your chest. “There you go.” You reach for the throw blanket, draping it over her small frame. “S alright, dear.” You whisper, tucking the coarse blanket around her. “She’ll be fine soon. Everyone has bad dreams.”

Powder falls back asleep in no time, conked out in your lap. Soon enough, Violet’s cries fade to sniffles, and then stop. A moment later, Vander steps out of the room, and you lift your head from where you’d been resting. 

“Told you not to worry ‘bout it.” He says when he sees you holding Powder.

”And I didn’t.” You keep running your hand over Powder’s back, feather light. “No worries here.” You take a deep breath before standing up slowly, making sure not to disturb the sleeping girl. You carry her back to bed and set her down, pulling the blankets back up and tucking in a stuffed animal next to her while Vander watches.

It’s only after the door is shut behind you again that he speaks. “Still. You don’t have to do all this.”

”I know what I’m signing up for, Vander.” You insist. “I have just as much of a responsibility of love to them as I do to you.”

It takes him a moment, but he cracks. “…Thank you, love.” He reaches out and touches the side of your face. “You’re smarter than I’ll ever hope to be.” He whispers, stepping forward and lining up your foreheads, so you can feel his warm skin against you. “I love you.”

”I love you too.” You reply, and it feels natural. “Carry me to bed?” You whisper, and his arms wrap around your sides, scooping you up and into the air, back towards his bedroom.

[tiyawnyana]

Hi. I saw u have requests open and i wanna request Vander x neutral reader making outtt …. maybe perhaps :] have an awesome day

Lowkey adored this- had so much fun writing for younger Vander since I've been dying to oop

A/N: i headcannon that Vander was a FLIRT when he was younger bc look at that man and tell me he doesn't know he's a hunk

Characters: Younger! Vander x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: slowish build up, making out, maybe a teensy bit ooc but honestly? No i think he was a flirt

Children DNI

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Vodka Tonic

You had met Silco down in the mines originally, you were lost and he had helped you find the rest of the group.

That same evening, he had invited you out to have drinks with he and his friends.

That's where you met sweet Felicia, with her soft voice and cute dances, and Vander.

Vander, all muscle and large and gorgeous. Smooth, deep voice, that quite honestly could lull you to sleep.

"Got yourself a buddy now, aye Silco?" He has said eyeing you for a moment.

"Found him down in my section of the mines," Silco nods, patting your back.

You nodded weakly, a slightly strained smile on your lips as you wave awkwardly.

Felicia paid it no mind, smiling all too friendly at you as you walk in behind Silco.

"What's your poison?" Vander had asked, and you quirked a brow in question.

He lifts a bottle of liquor wordlessly with a faint smirk.

"Oh! Oh- uh," you think for a moment,"Vodka tonic," you managed to murmur under his curious gaze.

He nods with that same smirk,"You're after my own heart," he had stated, turning to make the drink.

Your cheeks warmed much to your dismay before shaking your head quickly.

You attempted to make conversation, but ended up just listening to Felicia talked about, well, whatever she was talking about.

You couldn't get your eyes off of Vander.

Vander with those thick arms. Vander with his gorgeous eyes. Fuck.

Over time, your presence became a constant. You had cooled yourself down, insisting that Vander wouldn't take interest, you were Silco's friend. Therefore, Vander's friend.

Until you found yourself alone in their little apartment with none other than Vander- Felicia wasn't feeling too hot and Silco.. well, Silco just sometimes disappeared, figuring out work or other things alike.

You almost left, feeling awkward and bumbling out apologies but Vander patted your back. Kind as ever. Insisting you stay and have another one of his drinks like any other night.

"C'mon, I don't bite," he has teased with a smirk,"Hard-"

The last part was muttered as he turned around to walk over to their liquor cabinet, and you did a double take, not believe he had said it.

You let a snicker tumble out and Vander grins over at you, relieved that his joke stuck.

The night had been... surprisingly nice.

He had joined you this time, nursing his own vodka tonic as he sat beside you at their little bar.

He asked about you. Your childhood, your upbringing. Turns out you had basically grown up of opposite sides of the Lanes, just associating with different kids and teens.

Vander kept eye contact, listening with his entire being as he cracked jokes or laughed about something you said.

You had ended up entirely too drunk, leaning against the bar and blatantly flirting with him.

Your cheeks were rosy, and Vander was chuckling as you complimented his eyes.

"You're drunk," he laughs, patting your knee.

"Doesn't take away the fact that you're handsome," you drunkenly chuckled.

"I'll take you seriously when you're able to tell me sober," Vander fixes you with a teasing pointed look as he stands. He stretches, a little sliver of his lower stomach showing as his shirt lifts before he's grasping your elbow and helping you up,"You can crash here for the night, can't have ya leavin' like this."

"Oh- it's okay, I've been piss drunk and made it home," a lie,"I'm fine-"

Vander doesn't say anything besides another pointed look, not leaving you any room for argument.

You grumble beneath your breath before being dragged off to a small room with an old, worn mattress.

He's quiet and it's almost serene. Intimate, even, when Vander hands you one of his worn shirts to wear for the night.

Laying in Vanders bed- alone, wearing his shirt, gazing up the ceiling as your vision swirls about gives you ample time to fantasize about the man currently crashing on the small couch out in the living/dining/main area.

The next day, you had woke with a shock, a thumping ache in your head as you sit up with a groan.

The sound and smell of food has your stomach rumbling.

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you step out of the room to be greeted with Felicia animatedly chatting away with Vander who seems to be cooking up some breakfast- eggs and bacon?

Felicia must have heard you, eyebrow raised as she turns before smiling in delight as she calls your name with a side hug.

"I'm sorry- feeling a little sick-ish, didn't want to give ya any illness," she suddenly smirks as she eyes the shirt you're wearing,"Nice shirt."

You look down in confusion before the memories of the night before rush to the surface, a hot blush of embarrassment covering your cheeks.

"Oh- um," you clear your throat before grinning sheepishly,"Thanks."

You watch Felicia wander into Vander's view and smirk at him as if she knows something.

You idly stand there for a moment before deciding to sit, feeling woozy.

You lean forward, elbows on your knees as you rub at your temples while willing yourself not to dart out of the small apartment.

Vander wanders over, old socks coming into view as he places a plate of breakfast on the small table.

He crouches before you as you lean back in surprise,"Got a headache, aye?"

He's there- unbelievably kind eyes peering at you as he hands you a glass of water.

"Yeah," you murmur, taking the glass with a thankful albeit awkward smile.

He stands, going back to the food and asks Felicia if she wants any before she's declining with a smirk, taking her leave.

After a moment, Vander comes back, pulling a small stool up to sit across from you with his plate in hand. It's almost comical, the stool is so small beneath him and the plate looks equally small.

"Food will help," he hands you a fork.

You take it, nodding in thanks as you begin to eat quietly.

You find your gaze trailing over to him as you both eat, quickly averting them when he looks back at you.

He carefully takes the plate from your hands when you're done, going back to the sink to clean them off.

You're moving to the bedroom to fetch your shirt, carefully folding Vanders as you step back out.

"I'm.. gonna go," you murmur awkwardly,"Got a shift down at the mines at noon."

Vander swings his rag up onto his shoulder after drying his hands, turning to look at you and leaning against the sink.

He eyes you for a moment, taking in your awkward fidgeting as you hold his shirt.

"Please don't... feel awkward about last night," he reassures carefully,"You were drunk. We can.. chalk it up to that."

You swallow thickly, nodding in embarrassment.

Taking your leave was even more awkward, somehow; placing his shirt down on the small table before nearly darting out, as if your tail were between your legs.

A week passes. Silco grows annoyed with you as you respectfully decline his invites to Vanders and his place.

You throw yourself into work, working longer hours until you hit a pipe, a burst of the grey shooting straight into your lungs.

You're dragged out of the mines, told you're to rest and take a few days, much to your dismay.

Silco hears of it, meeting you on the surface and scolding you.

On the second day of rest, Silco finds you at your dingy apartment, dragging you out and ignoring your groans and before you know it, you're at a bar.

The Last Drop.

You don't recognize it, finding it brand new and nearly empty, save for Felicia and Vander who converse at the back of the building by the bar.

"Hey!" Felicia waves to you both with a grin, patting your arm with a softer smile,"I heard what happened in the mines, I'm glad you're okay!"

Vander looks over at you, surprised to see you after a little over a week of nothing.

You're sheepish under his gaze, embarrassment written on your face.

"Glad you're alright," he says softly.

Felicia talks about her job, groaning about her sector of the mines while cooing about her spouse. Silco remains quiet as usual, writing into his journal and sipping the whiskey Vander had poured for him.

Wordlessly, Vander places a glass in front of you. Vodka tonic.

"Thank you-" you manage to say genuinely.

He smiles and nods at you, turning back to listen to Felicia.

After a little while of nursing your drink, Felicia yawns, stretching her arms above her head before side eyeing you, then Vander.

"Silco- can you walk me down to the Lanes? Connol works later at the mines tonight," she murmurs with a pointed look.

Silco looks at her in confusion before something dawns on him, nodding as he downs his drink and closes his journal.

Felicia kisses you on the cheek, bidding a Goodnight as she leaves with Silco.

You open your mouth, preparing to leave too- until another glass is placed in front of you.

It's not a vodka tonic, much to your surprise.

You look up at Vander in confusion, shock wracking your belly as he leans closer to you from across the bar.

"Try it," he nods to the drink.

You hesitate before shrugging, surprised at the taste- warm and light, a drink you're unfamiliar with.

"That's my favorite drink," Vander murmurs, eyeing you carefully.

You raise a brow,"Thought vodka tonics were your favorite."

Vander smirks slightly,"They're... good, but not my favorite."

You hum in response and he continues before you can say anything.

"Said it was my favorite to connect with you," he says that softer, turning to grab another glass and pours himself a cup, ending up with a vodka tonic.

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion,"wh- huh? Why?"

He fixes his gaze on you again then walks around the side of the bar to sit on the stool beside you.

His thigh brushes against yours as he settles in, resting his elbows on the bartop.

He sighs, shrugs, lifting his drinks and sipping it as he side eyes you.

Your cheeks warm, a feeling of almost hope bubbling up beneath the surface. You don't dare say anything.

"I told you- that night- that I'll take you seriously if you tell me sober," he murmurs, eyes locked onto his glass.

You clear your throat,"Yeah- I remember.."

He only gives you a narrowed look as he turns to face you. His thighs frame yours as he turns you in the stool to face him.

"Well?" He smirks.

You narrow your gaze in disbelief.

Curse Vander and his kind eyes, his gorgeous face and large hands that now hold a soft grip over your knee.

You swallow thickly, cheeks reddening.

"I- uh.." you struggle to speak, laughing in surprise,"Wha-at is happening-?"

Vander just gazes at you wordlessly, a faint smirk on his lips.

You're unable to speak- wishing you could form the words that you know you said when drunk-

Luckily, it seems Vander understands your trouble.

Suddenly, he's lifting his hand towards your face. You flinch slightly, and you don't miss the hesitation in his eyes but he licks his lower lip as he gently cups your cheek.

"Easy," he murmurs as he carefully tugs you closer, free hand taking your clenched one off your thigh and thumbing your fist open, thumb rubbing your palm soothingly.

"Vander-"

"Tell me to stop," he locks his eyes on yours, waiting.

You don't say anything, your eyes flicking down to his mouth before trailing back up to his eyes.

He smirks. Then leans in, slotting his lips over yours.

This kiss is awkward, initially. You're stiff, surprised and still in complete disbelief.

Vander pulls back to look at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and lidded gaze.

He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. His palm moves down from your cheek to the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your pulse point and that smirk returns as he feels your heartrate.

"You alright?" He murmurs, gaze flicking back down to your lips.

You lick them, nodding quickly before moving closer, nose brushing against his as you begin to breathe the same air.

He chuckles and fuck, it's attractive, but he finally presses his lips against yours again.

You sigh into him, nerves rattling into your bones but he feels good.

Vander leads the kiss, gentle and sweet, typical.

His thumb moves to your jaw, pressing slightly to silently tell you- open up.

You listen- mouth opening just enough for him to press his tongue in.

"Nnh-" you hum softly, shivers rolling down your spine as his tongue tangles with yours.

You're almost squirming in the barstool. Free hand clenched into a fist perched on your thigh, other in Vanders grasp. Spine straightening then slouching.

Vander sighs into you, turning your head slightly to kiss you deeper. A low moan escapes your mouth and you almost pull back out of embarrassment but he hums a 'no,' refusing to stop kissing you.

You lean closer, unclenching your free hand and placing it on his thigh.

He releases your hand, now carefully gripping your thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth higher up. A tingle blossoms in your belly- dozens of butterflies spawning in as Vander groans into your mouth, panting softly. He pulls back for a split second, just to tilt your head the other way and he's back to pressing his tongue into your mouth.

You inch closer, hand rising up on his thigh with a surprised moan as he nips your lower lip-

Suddenly the barstool wobbles and you yelp, pulling back from the kiss and he grasps your elbow, stabilizing you.

You gaze at him- your lips tingling and breathing slightly ragged. You manage a soft laugh, tilting your head forward and leaning against his shoulder to cover your blush.

He cups the side of your neck, urging you back with a fond smile.

"Want to crash here tonight?" He asks softly, gaze lingering on your eyes.

You peer up at him before returning his soft smile with a nod,"I'd like that."

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

A/N: yippeeee!!! Lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list :)

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Fourteen

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, death threats (?)

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Fourteen:

You peeled your eyelids open. They felt practically glued shut as you eased Allison off of your lap- you felt feverishly hot, clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you got up to take a much-needed shower. 

Allison woke up too, blinking. She looked fully rested. Regretting your lack of sleep, you disappeared into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

By the time you were done Allison had disappeared from the office and a man was sweeping up the glass from the carpet. You nodded at him as you put your hand on the doorknob, opening the door to reveal a veil of golden beaded strings.

“Leave even a single piece and I’ll cut your head off,” you said casually as you stepped through the curtain. He looked up at you nervously.

“Yes, Madam.”

You entered the lobby. You stepped out of the large, curved entrance you had for your office, turning around to see the rosy, warm, inviting interior before walking across the lush carpet of the front lobby, going for the stairs. The door opened and the familiar heavy frame of Sevika walked in. 

“[name],” she said breathlessly, stepping forward towards you. “Silco told me about the deal. The-“

You walked straight past her.

You could feel her eyes burning onto your back as you stalked up the stairs, not sparing her another glance. Reaching the landing you leaned against the railing, taking a peek downstairs. You could just see the edge of Sevika’s boot, before she moved past the foot of the stairs to duck into a hallway. Another pair of feet followed her.

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off of your leaning position, going down the hallway. You eventually reached the room you’d put Allison and her friend in, rapping your knuckles twice on the door.

The door opened to reveal the little girl, hair straight and black and dark. She looked up at you, shadows under her eyes, and panic flitted across her face.

“Madam,” she said quickly.

You didn’t bother with greetings or formalities. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

She looked at you, as if she was wondering which answer would get her head chopped off and which answer would get her a pat on the back. You continued:

“I don’t like little girls who lie.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted.

“Why not?”

“Sleep terrors.” You stepped into her room as she opened the door a little wider.

The place was sparse, with two bunk beds, a light and a rug. There was a tiny sack dumped in the corner, very few belongings spilling onto the hard wood.

You clicked your tongue, hands behind your back as you slowly turned, surveying the room. At least the beds were made, you noticed. The children were neat.

“What do you need?”

The girl looked up at you nervously. “Wh-what?”

“A shelf,” you remarked, looking at the empty space on the walls. “Would you like a desk? Can you read or write?”

She nodded silently. 

“After I get you the basic components, this room is free for you to personalise as you wish.” With a twirl of your hand, you produced a small pin in between your fingers. “I need you measured for some new clothes too.” You crouched down to her level. “After that, you do whatever you want as long as you don’t get yourself in trouble. We give our people freedom here.”

“Does this place have a name?”

You stared at her sallow face, taken off guard by the question, then brushed aside her hair. “I’m not sure yet. All these years, and we’ve never had a name.” People usually called it the brothel. What did you have in mind?”

“The House.”

You laughed. “It’s quite boring for someplace as glamorous as this, don’t you think?” You eased the pin into her hair. “Here. This pin will mark you as a member of, er… this place.”

She ghosted her little fingers over it. “The Haven.”

You licked your lips, turning the name over in your head. “That’s… where did you learn a word like that?”

“I met a girl who told me about this place. She said it was a haven for people who were running away. I never knew what it meant.”

You hummed, then straightened up. “That’s a great name.”

“Thank you,” she said bashfully, shuffling her feet. Without another word you left through the door, hurrying down the stairs and back to your office.

You had barely made it to the beads before you heard your name again. You groaned, turning around to face Sevika. 

“What do you want?”

“Five favours, huh?”

“I’ll call on you five times, and you will do whatever I tell you to without question.”

She laughed. “Or what? What if I don’t?” She took a step towards you. “You think you can just make me?”

You shrugged, clasping your hands together, the image of piety. “If you want to kill Donna, be my guest.”

She froze. “What?”

“What?” You batted your lashes at her innocently, beginning to circle her. She turned, eyes tracking your every move. “Is there something wrong?”

“What do you mean, kill Donna,” she hissed. You stopped walking, and turned to look at her abruptly.

“I mean, if you don’t follow the rules of the deal, Donna dies. It’s simple, really.”

You could see her clench her jaw. “Well, I wasn’t planning on disobeying anyways.”

“I’m sure you weren’t.” Your voice was smooth.

“I was just testing to see your reaction.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a good person, [name]?”

You smiled thinly. “That’s far too much credit than what’s due. What ever gave you that idea?”

She stared at you disbelievingly. “You take in people in need. What else is there to say?”

You raised a finger. “One could say I exploit people in need. Sure, I exploit them with a strict moral code, but I’m using them nonetheless. It’s purely transactional. I know they need me, and I take advantage of it.” You shrugged. “Don’t go getting excited, now.”

“[name], if anything happens to Donna…” Sevika’s voice was a growl. You crossed your arms, sweeping a languid hand over your chin.

“Well, her performance has been quite lacklustre lately…” you snickered at her expression.

“I’ll fucking kill you with my own two hands.”

“I doubt you’d want to suffer the consequences of that.” Your eyes flicked to her cloaked shoulder. “No one would like it if you killed me with your one, single hand.”

Sevika stared at you, breathing heavily. Agitated. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Anything to get a rise out of my adversaries-“

She grabbed your shoulder, fingertips digging into your skin. You clicked your tongue, irritated.

“Ah- ah- ah. Don’t go assaulting me,” you gasped, scandalised. You drew your face close to hers, grinning. She scowled at you. Your eyes flicked to the corner.

There were about ten people standing in the corner, completely frozen from whatever they were doing. They all stared at Sevika unblinkingly. A silent warning.

“That’s creepy,” she muttered.

“I know,” you said gleefully. She released your shoulder and you stumbled back. 

“Since when are we your adversaries?” She snarled. “We just struck a successful deal, for fucks sake. On amicable terms.”

I threw a knife at your boss. What part of that is amicable?

You scowled. “He will never be able to consider me an ally after the way he did me wrong, understood?” You stormed forward, jabbing a finger into her chest. “On my dead body will I help you sewer rats for anything that doesn’t involve my gain.”

“And what’s your gain?” Sevika whispered, voice scathing. You smiled widely, eyes glinting.

“His loss.”

-

“We need to expand.”

There was a map rolled out across the dark wood of your desk. You tapped a carefully manicured finger onto a specific spot in the undercity. Donna leaned over, inspecting the map with her sharp eyes. You drew slow circles on the spot and tapped it again. Allison was sitting on the sofa, watching you both with childlike interest.

“There’s too many people seeking asylum. We don’t have enough space.” You waved your hand to the ceiling. “Despite this place being massive, we need more.”

Donna propped herself up on her elbows, eyes tracing the river drawn on the map. “What’s that place?” She looked at where your finger was touching.

“It’s an old property that just got abandoned. Used to be a factory. The owner died to enforcers after he refused to give it up.”

“Why’d they make him give it up?”

“No idea. Probably because it wasn’t ’up to code,’ what they always say.” You bent over the table, eyes glinting. “They just don’t want Zaun to progress. To get more powerful.” Your voice was a dangerous hiss.

“How would one factory change that?”

Your eyes went from narrowed to normal and your muscles relaxed. “You’d be surprised.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “The enforcers just left after they finished moving all the stuff out yesterday night. The place is up for grabs.”

“Who’s to say we’ll get there on time? Before anyone else does?”

“I am,” you said firmly. “Send a team out, now, and set up something there. Spray our insignia on the front so no one dares to take it.”

So that was the plan. Take the factory, occupy it, and set it up. Of course you’d still run operations from the brothel- the Haven- but you could have it used as accommodation and more.

Donna was looking up at you with something akin to admiration in her eyes. You gave her a small, thin smile. You quite liked the girl.

You really hoped Sevika wouldn’t make you have to kill her.

[committingcrimes-2047]

I'm thinking about Vander x reader- im thinking about a story where they are maybe childhood friends and then they end up fighting on the bridge together but get separated and no one knows where Reader is so they assume theyre dead only for them to show up a year later.

Imagine Reader showing up at the last drop as its closing and Vander has his back to them and tells them that hes about to close up shop and they just sit down and maybe ask for a super specific thing that they always used to order and he like turns around and realises its them and it goes from there.

I know people are in agony with the new season so I thought I might as well throw some silly little ideas out into the wild. Please tag me if anyone writes this- not because its my idea but because im desperate for more Vander please and thank you.

[xoxo-honeyy]

wake-up call

^ he's such a scrumptious dilf, jus' wanna eat him up

summary: you wake up to strange noises coming from the bathroom and decide to go investigate. when you open the door, you find vander in a very compromising position...

warnings: afab reader, unprotected vaginal sex (don't be silly wrap your willy), cuddle fucking, dom!vander, sub!reader, tried very hard not to describe readers looks (implied chubby reader? kind of), somewhat of a size kink? (blink and you'll miss), male masturbation, use of pet names (princess, love), cockwarming, barely proofread, reader walks vander like a dog, smut that ends in fluff. reader is a stressed out mama, porn with little plot, please let me know if I've missed anything!

author's note: so i wanted to write a somno fic with vander but i didn't really know how to go about it so here's this mess that i don't know what to do with! this is also crossposted on ao3 at xoxo_honey!

wc: 1.6k

It had been a long day at work. Fights needed to be broken up, various repairs had to be made, and one of the beer taps broke which made business go a lot slower than usual. All of this caused Vander to come home a lot later than he usually did which put him in a bad mood.

All day while he was at work, Vander couldn't stop thinking about you. your soft touch. The way your plush body slotted perfectly against his. How you curled up against him this morning when he tried to get out of bed. the way your tight cunt wrapped around his cock so perfectly the night before, drowning him in orgasmic bliss. And all day he was trying desperately to force those thoughts away to avoid any awkward boner situations with his customers. but, towards the end of the night, his nasty thoughts came back in full force and flooded his head with a lust-filled haze. 

So when he got home, Vander already had two strikes against him. He was grumpy and sporting a half-hard cock. 

He unlocked the front door and closed it behind him. He quietly crept past the kids' room and made his way into your shared bed where you were snoring softly. 

Today hasn't been much better for you either. It was your day off of work so you decided to take the kids around the undercity and entertain them with the various light shows and firework displays. What a terrible idea. Not only were all of the children extremely giddy to spend the day with you, but they also made pancakes loaded with sugar and syrup to get them extra hyper. 

So, your day consisted of carting four restless, sugar-high kids around the Undercity, but you were also running on little to no sleep thanks to Vander and his outrageous libido.

When it was time to get back to your dingy little apartment, the five of you were exhausted and decided to go to bed early. 

Unlucky for you, a horny and cranky Vander had just laid down right next to you. The neon lights shone in through the moth-eaten curtains of your bedroom and cast a dim glow over your sleeping form, outlining the plump curve of your breasts and highlighting the gorgeous planes of your face. Which really wasn't helping Vanders...situation at all.

Deciding that he needed to relieve himself before getting a good night's sleep, Vander moved to get back up from the comfort of your shared bed and made his way to the bathroom. 

It had been a while since he needed to jerk off. Trying to remember how exactly he used to do it before you came along, his mind started to wander to different pictures of you. Vander could only remember your lips wrapped around the base of his cock while his tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat making you gag and moan around him.

Fuck.

The soft clinking of his belt becoming undone filled the muggy air of the cramped bathroom. Vander moved his pants and boxer down so they hung low on his waist, exposing just enough so his girthy dick was able to spring free from its confines. 

He spit on the palm of his large hand and wrapped it around his shaft, slowly moving it up and down. The rough calluses on his palm only served as a reminder of your soft one stroking his cock, finding different ways to tease him and make him cum. he moved his hand back up his penis and made contact with his leaking tip. His thumb moved back and forth over the slit and more pre-cum spilled down his length.

No longer able to control the noises coming out of his mouth, Vander bit down on a wad of his shirt. But this only helped stifle the sounds to a certain extent.

Down the hall in your bedroom, you were awakened out of your stupor because of strange noises coming from the bathroom. worried that one of the kids was sick, or god forbid, there was an intruder in the house, you decided to get out of bed and go investigate.

As you made your way down the hall, the noises became clearer and they were similar to the noises you heard during previous nights. You immediately knew who was in the bathroom.

You opened the door and found Vander hunched over with his hard cock in his fist, with his balled-up shirt in his mouth. 

Now Vander had three strikes against him. He got caught and was still horny, but his bad mood lessened upon seeing your beautiful face. 

Immediately Vander moved to pull his pants up while fumbling over his words trying to come up with an adequate explanation as to what exactly he was doing. 

You quickly cut him off, "What are you doing?" a slight smirk played at your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing.

"M sorry princess, didn't mean to wake you." He avoided the question.

Stepping closer to him you responded in a soft, sultry, whisper, "That's not what I asked."

Stopping his actions, you took his erect tip into your hands and started stroking him. Repeating the same motions he was doing just moments before. He immediately let out a guttural moan and you stopped your teasing movements. 

You turned your back to him and walked out of the bathroom knowing full well he was hot on your trail. 

The two of you made it into your bed and laid down, but Vander was confused, "What are you doing love?" 

Not responding, you simply pulled down your cotton pajama shorts along with your thin panties with a noticeable damp spot in the center and rolled over so your back was pressed up against his broad chest.

"'M tired Vander." You explained, "Don't feel like doing anything." 

But there was an underlying message that Vander had not yet caught onto.

You gave him a moment to think, and when his eyes brightened, you knew he had figured it out. 

Slowly, Vander moved impossibly closer to you and moved two of his thick fingers to your heat. the digits moved at a tantalizing pace, up and down your folds to work you up for his girthy cock. Your slick was dripping around his fingers and when he pushed one in, it came out soaking.

Letting out a whimper, you started to rut your hips against his hands in hopes to relieve the ache in your core. 

Vander only chuckled and whispered, "All you gotta do is ask princess. I don't know what you want if you don't tell me."

Broken words tumbled from your lips, "Please, wan' your cock."

"Where do you want it? your mouth?" He responded knowing full well exactly where you wanted it.

You couldn't wait anymore, "Want it 'n my pussy."

Deciding that you had enough, Vander finally gave you what you wanted. He slipped his hefty dick into your tight, wet heat. Each time you had sex, it took you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of him because he was just so big. the two of you sighed a breath of relief, hours of wanting and lust-filled brains had rendered you both into horny teenagers. Vander's large arms wrapped around your waist so he was holding you firm into his body. The embrace pouring love and protectiveness through your very being.

After you had gotten re-used to his impressive girth, Vander started to lightly thrust in and out of your core. His movements were more akin to grinding than thrusting but he was too tired to fully complete his movements. His hand moved down to your red, needy clit and started rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. 

As a small form of punishment, Vander lightly slapped your swollen clit a number of times until tears formed in your eyes. stopping the harsh movement, he started gently tugging at your button until breathy moans fell from your lips. 

The added movement of his fingers combined with his dick repeatedly hitting your cervix, you felt your stomach clenching and your thighs shaking, a sign of your impending orgasm. Letting out a series of high-pitched moans you shoved your face into the pillow and bit down on it. 

Vander's hips faltered and the hand that was tugging at your clit started lightly quivering. He was also close. revived with newfound energy to finish the two of you off, Vander's thrusts became more powerful. The sound of skin slapping reverberated around the room.

Suddenly your mind went blank, the only feeling you were capable of discerning was pleasure as your orgasm rolled over you and took over your entire nervous system.

Sensing that Vander was at the precipice of his imminent orgasm, you decided to help him out by meeting his harsh thrusts by grinding your hips back onto his, overstimulation be damned.

It was all too much for him. The clenching of your cunt, the way you wrapped so perfectly around his cock, the feeling of your soft body safe in his arms. His seed spilled into you filling you up with warm, gooey liquid, the familiar sensation was oddly comforting. 

You removed the pillow case from your teeth and took in lungfuls of the cool night air. Vander massaged your waist and hips to get rid of any potential bruising and whispered into your sweaty skin, "Maybe I should wake you up like that more often."

Laughter bubbled up your throat and reached Vander's ears.

"M extra tired now." You sighed, thinking of all the things you had to get done in the morning.

Vander, already knowing the amount of work you had piled on your desk suggested, "Why don't you take the day off tomorrow? The six of us could have a spa day or something?"

Leaning your head against his sweaty chest you closed your eyes and smiled, "Yeah, I think I'd like that."

hope you guys liked this, i had sm fun writing it! this is also cross-posted on ao3 at xoxo_honey, the link is in my pinned post!

[whoreforsexymen]

I hate you all.

Jkjk. Yall are weird though.

[cerisahh]

why are there barely any vander fics???

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

sevika and her kitty gf! ^.^

author's note - uhhh this kinda sucks but i have better shit coming i promise!!!!

content warnings - fluff mostly, mentions of death i think??? or mentions of violence- MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE!!!!!

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

- in my head, nekos can like pick and choose whether they want to be in cat-form or hybrid form, and that's kinda what happened when you two met.

- it was an especially bad day for sevika, another one of jinx's plans had failed which had meant silco had thrusted the responsibility of cleaning up his daughter's mess on his #2 . it was exhausting, having to care for a child she hadn't even signed up for. she had longed for a connection that wasn't about power or obligation, just pure domesticity.

- a group of drunks was messing around with you in an alleyway, throwing rocks at you and such, usually sevika would walk on with her night. but something stopped her from doing that this time and she scared the group off with her presence rather quickly.

- you nuzzled your face against her leg, rubbing on it repeatedly as the prettiest purrs came out of your mouth, she let you stay like that for a while until she decided to continue her walk back home.

- but everytime she turned around, she would see you curiously follow her around, your ears perked up and your paws never planted that much on the ground.

- she tried scolding you, yelling at you, trying to get you purposefully lost in dark places. but she eventually caved and let you follow her. "one night only."

- she didn't know what to feed you so she cooked you salmon because it's common knowledge that cats like fish.

- she let you roam around the house, gritting her teeth everytime she had to reprimand you each time your paw almost "slipped" and broke something. but at least you were smart enough to not repeat the same mistake twice. you listened well, she'll give you that.

- at some point, she found herself in bed with a kitty sleeping snuggly on her chest, her upper body vibrating as the creature was purring happily atop of the feared woman, your tail tickling sevika's buff arms every now and again.

- she'd never admit it to anyone but she melted when she saw you like that, having imprinted on her already.

- you could understand her surprise when sevika expected to see a furry friend perched on top of her chest and woke up next to a random woman with the same fluffy ears as the cat she couldn't find anywhere else in her home.

- after you had explained to her what you were and your abilities, she had felt way better than she had when she thought a random woman came into her house.

- you had offered her something no one else ever had. if she had provided you with a place to stay, you would provide her with some type of companionship.

- she was hesitant and hadn't believed you could offer her anything she hadn't already had. but she agreed, half out of amusement and half out of thinking this was a gift from the universe somehow.

- you'd always be waiting at the door in cat-form for her when it was time for her to come home. at first you'd take the initiative and lay down in her lap. curling yourself up in a comfy ball, spreading your paws out on sevika's thighs.

- after a while of getting used to this sevika would pick you up herself and situate you somewhere close to her, you two would usually stay there for the remainder of the night.

- when you're in hybrid form and cuddling, she loves to stroke your tail while you're on top of her. she'll call you a pretty kitty as you purr into the crook of her neck.

- whenever you two get into an argument, you immediately go into cat-form and walk off somewhere else when you've had enough, something sevika both loves and hates.

- wouldn't it be so funny if sevika had started bringing you around to the last drop with her while she's gambling. it was unheard of before but no one was going to question sevika. but then some guy cursed at you or something for getting too close to him while you were wandering around and then she had to beat some guy's ass over her cat.

- loves when you put your head in her lap and she can give your ears a good scratch.

- when she's had a really terrible day, you'll lay down on her chest and plant little kitten kisses all over her skin.

[vieoeil-riae]

has anybody written about silco and vander specifically as warwick, or wtv the hell werewolf thing he had going on, fucking nasty yet????? asking for myself

[gingernut1314]

The Water's Embrace ch. 7

Summary: You and Silco talk about recent events happening within your friend group before one simple act has everything exploding in your faces.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, silco POV, fear of rejection/ruining friendship, rejection, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 5.9K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae

A/N: So.....that series finale.....how we feeling about it? I'm feeling unwell SOB. Anywayy here is the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy!!

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Three years later

“Felicia’s pregnant!” You gaped at Silco from where he sat on the edge of the small pool of water you swam in. It was a pool located in the cave you once called home, though nothing but a rotting, makeshift bed remained of that past. Even Janna had left this place.

You had noticed she hadn’t been around much for a year. A long time for her to be away at sea…if she was even out at sea at all. 

To say her disappearance didn’t worry you would be a lie. She may be an emotionless wind spirit but she was still the thing that had raised you. You still found love for her in your heart. 

You ducked under the surface of the inky black waters, swimming forward till you popped up at the edge of the pool. Silco unbent his legs from his chest only to criss cross them, making it easier to lean closer to you and your utter shock. 

“Shocking, right?” Silco's seafoam eyes tracked you as you placed your arms on the stone floor beside him. 

“Shocking is quite the understatement.” You let your feet kick aimlessly through the waters, enjoying the feel against your skin. It’d been too long since you’d been swimming like this. “She--with who? Connol?” Silco nodded. 

“It would seem.”

“Damn… damn .” Silco nodded in agreement. “What--I mean--I’m happy for her.” Silco raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you?” He teased. 

“ Yes .” You huffed back. “I’m just…worried.” Silco again nodded.

“Yes…as am I.” You scooted closer to him then. “She made us promise to make Zaun a reality for her child.” 

“And it will become reality.” You confirmed only for Silco to sigh deeply. 

“It’s been years .” He murmured. “We’ve continued to let Piltover stomp all over us. We are no closer to freedom let alone Zuan.” 

“You’re giving up?” Silco leveled you with a fierce look. 

“Hardly. I’m just tired of waiting and waiting for the “right moment”.” You hesitated before placing your hand on his knee, rubbing your thumb over the fabric. Silco’s eyes tracked the touch before they found yours again.

“I know we’ve all been patient for a long while, but I think we need to be patient a bit longer. Especially now that Felicia is expecting.” Your mind went down a dark train of thought. Of the reality that pregnancies down here so rarely made it to full term. To the reality that, even if her child was born safe and sound, it could kill her. To the reality of just how little food there truly was to go around and how babies were such fragile things that had a tendency to die before they reached the age of one. “We don’t want to stress her more than I’m sure she is now.” 

Silco nodded, eyes darkening in those very same thoughts you had just had. He placed his hand over yours, turning it so that it would rest in his palm. 

“Do you--” Silco began but seemed to think better of it. You gave his hand a squeeze, pulling yourself further on land to peer more closely into his eyes. 

“Do I…? Come on, don’t hold back on me now.” Silco looked over your face slowly. A slowness he had been doing a lot more recently. Not that you minded. You quite liked his attention but it still didn’t help you in your mission to keep your feelings for him smothered. 

“Do you wish for children?” You blinked up at him. And blinked again. And again.

“Me? Have…a kid?” Silco shrugged. 

“Just curious. We’ve never talked about such things before.” A pinkish hue began to spread over his cheeks. A pinkish color you had missed seeing on him. 

“Well, I’ve never really thought about it before. I…really didn’t think I’d make it this far in my life.” Silco smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand in a comforting manner that had you fluttering your feet in the water a bit more. “And not to mention I would be a horrid mother.” Silco scoffed. 

“Hardly. You are great with kids.” 

“What kids have you seen me interact with?” 

“Those kids you helped get away from those enforcers.” You thought back to that day which had happened a year ago. All because a few of them had stolen something for some Topside douchebag. It seemed to give those enforcers some grand idea to not only ruin a perfectly nice day, but to invade the stream and connecting lake kids went to swim around in and use unnecessary force to find the little thieves. 

You had been working when it started. Had only showed up because you had been… called there by some tug you still didn’t know what it was. Some tug that felt too much like magic. You’d gotten there just in time to find enforcers trying to drown some of them, others getting dragged away and beaten up, and others trembling in fear looking like they were praying to some god that you knew wouldn’t show up to help them.

You just assumed it had something to do with your magic and their connection to the waters the enforcers were using to try to harm the children with, so you stepped in and ended it.

Of course, you didn’t tell any of your friends that.

Not even Silco, who knew of your magic and who you practically told everything to. 

You just told them you had left work early because you were feeling unwell and stumbled upon the scene by accident. 

You tried to call out to Janna afterward to see if she knew what that--that calling had been but she had never shown and was nowhere to be found. It was then you first figured out she was missing. Had been missing for a while before.

“They don’t count.” You quickly said.

“Why?”

“Because I hardly even spoke to them,” A lie. They had tried to talk your ear off afterward about your magic, but Silco didn’t need to know that. “And because I said so.” Silco huffed.

“Fine. It doesn’t matter because I’ve seen you interact with Viktor and you do so very well.” You chuckled, a smile blooming at the thought of that kid. 

“Viktor is a sweet thing. Only reason I’m good with him. Most kids are like you and I were. Bad-mouthed little ankle biters.” A smile pulled at Silco’s lips. 

“I suppose you're right.” You both huffed and chuckled at the thought of your younger years. 

“What about you?” You asked as your amusement died out. “Do you want a kid?” Silco fell quiet for a long while. You saw a thousand and one thoughts rush behind his seafoam eyes. 

“You have.” You beamed, pulling your hand from his only so you could plant it on the ground, pulling yourself further upward, now at eye level with the very much blushing Silco. “Oh tell me about it, pretty please.” Silco almost seemed to lean away from your eagerness, eyes scanning and scanning over your face as if he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“There’s--nothing to tell.” You rolled your eyes on a groan. 

“I told you what my opinion on the matter was.” 

“Your opinion was hardly a true answer.” You huffed. 

“Fine. No. I don’t think I will have kids. There. Now tell me what you’ve thought of.” A heaviness filled his eyes. A heaviness you’d also been seeing him show more and more often. Always when watching you. Always when you said something to him. You thought maybe you had upset him somehow but he was always quick to speak and shove the look away. 

“I’ve just thought about it since Felicia’s going to have her own.”

“And…?” You egged him on. 

“And I don’t think it could ever become a reality.” You watched him closely. Watched that heaviness flicker through his eyes again.

What was he thinking about? What was he feeling to make his eyes look like that?

“But you would want one? In an ideal world. In Zaun?” Silco watched you just as closely back.  

“I…suppose.” You grinned up at him, legs kicking upward and making the water splash about. 

“I think you would be a good father.” Silco rolled his eyes. 

“Are you just saying that because I said it about you?” You shook your head. 

“Nope. You also are good with Viktor.” Silco gave a small huff in amusement. 

“Well, Viktor is the ideal child. Very sweet. Doesn’t steal flasks from random strangers off the street and explode them before their very eyes.” Your grin only grew wider as he spoke of your very first meeting. 

“Well, I also don’t think he would beat other children up and then refuse help for his boo-boos.” Silco narrowed his eyes, leaning ever closer to you. 

“I didn’t get any boo-boos and I won those fights fair and square.” 

“And I did go through all that trouble to replace your flask with a much nicer one.” You responded, bringing a finger up to tap at the flask which sat in a pocket on the inside lining of his jacket. 

“It is very nice.” You smirked. 

“You’re very welcome.” Silco gave another small laugh, lips relaxing into an easy smile. His seafoam eyes started up their scanning of your face all over again. A scan that made your heart beat painfully against the cage you had trapped it in to ward it against whatever deeper feelings you had for him. 

Your breath lodged itself in your throat when he brought his hand up to brush away a droplet of water from your cheek. And then to do it again closer to your lips. 

You--you didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know whether to pull even closer so that your noses might brush or jump back into the inky waters to disappear from view. 

But what you did know is you liked the touch. You wanted it to keep going on and on despite your struggle to fight back your feelings. 

Silco said your name softly in question and you thought shit was this--was he going to lean in closer?

“Are you…are you human?” The question took you off guard. Made quickly reel back all those feelings you had stupidly let slip from your iron hold of them. 

“What kind of a question is that?” You huffed, letting your body dip back into the waters, your hands the only thing still holding you to the surface. “Of course I am.” But Silco continued to watch you too carefully. “Why did you even ask me that?”

“Because…you feel different somehow.” Silco shrugged like you weren’t talking about the one topic you avoided speaking of like the plague.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Silco sighed your name.

“I’m serious. Magic is rare.” 

“You know I don’t like talking about it.” You fully let go of the pool edge then, making to disappear like you had first thought until Silco’s hand shot downward, grabbing hold of your wrist. The action nearly had your heart stopping in your chest.

“You once told me you trusted me enough to tell me those things. That you wanted me to know.” That pink cross over his cheeks once more, burning brighter than before. “It's…just me.” 

Even when you wished to forget about your feelings for him, even when you wished to not talk of your magic, you knew you couldn’t deny him. 

Not ever. 

It was a flaw. Something that should have been corrected a long time ago but was left to fester and grow within you like a fungus. 

“I…know I was born. Only humans are born, right?”

“Magic is mysterious.” You huffed. 

“You don’t need to tell me that.” You thought of Janna. Of all the things she had told you in your youth. 

You thought of that calling . Of how those kids had been praying for help before you had arrived. 

“Maybe…maybe I am but I’m…not?” Silco blinked at you, looking just as confused as you felt. “You remember I told you how my guardian found me, yes?” Silco nodded. 

“When you were small. In the water.” You nodded back at him.

“She’s…well she’s not human.” Silco's eyes sparked at this. 

“Truly?” 

“Annoyingly so. Her “human” body isn’t even human. It’s more elven and even then you can tell she’s other.” Silco gently pulled you back towards the edge of the pool as you spoke and you let him without any fuss. “She spends most of her time as The Winds. She’s old. Came here when The Gray first came to be.” 

“Winds… your guardian is--she’s real?” Of course, he knew of Janna. Most miners did. She uses most of her energy trying to keep them safe from the choking smog that seeped through the tunnels they were forced to work in; it was only natural for them to appreciate her, even when some didn’t believe.

“Yes, but she’s a lot more irritating than you all give her credit for.” Silco chuckled then. 

“She took you in because of your magic?” You nodded. 

“She says our magic was what led her to me. I don’t know much else besides that.” You answered, worrying your lip between your teeth. “You said I feel different? Like in a bad way?” 

“What? No. Like--other. Like…you’ve always given me the feel of the sea, even when I’ve never been sailing out on it. Like if I were to close my eyes right now, you might melt into the very waters you are in.” He paused for a moment, eyes flickering over your features once more. Something like…worry? Nervousness growing at what he was about to say. “When you hold me, I feel as if I am in the water's embrace.” 

“And…is that a bad feeling? Feeling like water has hold of you--like it might drag you under?” You asked, voice coming out low as if scared of the answer. 

“No. Never.” He spoke quickly. “I find…peace.” Your heart beat just a bit faster then.

“You don’t let me hug you often. How can I believe you?” You asked, partially teasing so that you could try to regain some semblance of control over yourself. You thought, almost hoped , he would tease you back, but what you hadn’t expected was him to stand and begin pulling his jacket off. “W-what are you doing?” Your eyes flew wide as he kicked his shoes off, leaving him in his patched-up socks. 

Your eyes only grew wider when he pulled his shirt off. The first grayish-white layer came off, followed quickly by his bright red shirt, giving you a full view of that thin, yet undoubtedly strong body he typically kept hidden beneath it all. 

You weren’t completely unfamiliar with seeing him shirtless. You had once lived at The Last Drop and the boys had a tendency to sleep in nothing but their boxers. 

But it didn’t matter because you hadn’t seen him in such a way in years . And you couldn’t help yourself as you looked over every inch of exposed skin. Drank in every scar, bruise, and lean plain he was made up of. Drank in that blush that grew richer and spread down the sides of his neck.

Couldn’t help but feel yourself grow restless at the sight of him.  

“Silco, what are--what are you doing? ” You repeated, not knowing what else to say in that moment. 

“I can’t swim.” And before you could ask another question or shout at him to stop, he was cannonballing into your pool. You panicked at his warning, diving instantly after him. 

It didn’t take you long to find him, your magic helping you feel for him in the darkness. You quickly grabbed and yanked him back to the surface, where he gave a gasp for air. 

“What the fuck!” You hissed, struggling a bit to keep both of you above the surface. To ease the struggle you commanded the waters to flow beneath him to keep him up. But he didn’t seem at all bothered by this, because the sound of his laughter filled your ears. 

Laugher that had your annoyance dissipating nearly all at once.

“Since when can you not swim?” You shouted as you began to swim him across the small pool till your feet found the sandy bottom in the shallows. You watched him move a bit of his long hair that had fallen out of his bun behind his ear as he found his footing. 

A loose bit of hair your fingers itched in their want to move for him.

“Since forever.” He spoke between his dying laughter. 

“Well get ready 'cause I’m going to teach you. Ridiculous.” You huffed with a playful shake of your head. You knew he was stubborn and hesitant to ask for anything for himself but this was something you could have taught him a long time ago. 

You had taught Sevika to swim so she wouldn’t be so nervous to sail on your Boss’ ship. Taught Vander and even helped teach Viktor, despite his leg. 

Swimming was essential. It could make the difference between life and death. Especially since your friend group was always messing around on the docks. 

You went to pull your arm away from where you had it wrapped around his waist, but Silco grabbed your forearm, stopping you. Your skin began to burn so hot you thought it might evaporate the water clinging to it. 

“If you insist.” His voice came out softer than you would have thought it would. 

Why was--you were again confused. 

Confused about him jumping into your pool and about why he was trying to be so…so close to you all of a sudden. 

“Yeah. I do.” You playfully snapped back. Silco’s lips pulled into an easy smile, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your skin that was making your brain buzz loudly . Making you feel all fidgety on the inside. 

Making you suddenly remember he was shirtless. That you were practically shirtless except for the ratty sports bra you typically wore to swim. 

“But…why?” Silco’s seafoam eyes glanced towards your lips as you spoke. 

“To show you.” He simply said. Words that only further confused you. 

“I--show me what?” Silco chuckled, bringing his other hand up to brush more water off your cheek. To hold it. To make your mind switch off and leave you only able to think about him touching your face and arm. At how close he was. 

“To show you that I don’t think anything about you is a bad thing.” Your lips parted on the slightest shuddering inhale. “That I would willingly slip away in your waters because I would be surrounded by you. Because it's you.” 

“Silco--I--” You didn’t know what to say. What to do . Could hardly even think past the pounding in your ears. Not when he was coming closer . 

How was he getting that close? 

Why ? 

“I don’t--I don’t know what to say to that.” You managed to breathe out, eyes flickering from his thin lips to his seafoam eyes which were full of that--that heavy look again. 

A look that, now that you were so close, made you think it was longing . 

Longing for--for you?

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wish.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth back, only for your lips to all but gasp back open when you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours. 

“What…what are you doing?” You whispered, fingertips digging lightly into the skin of his side as if to ground yourself. To make sure that this was real. That this wasn’t some messed up dream. 

“Showing you.” He whispered right back, breath ghosting over your lips. 

He inched closer ever slowly. So slow as if to give you a moment to say something more. To push him away. To stop him. 

Lips brush against your lips, sending a shock through your spine. A tingling warmth that stuck to your lips and pressed closer till he was kissing you. 

This…this was happening. 

It was finally happening after years of pining after him. After dreaming of this very moment.

It was-- intoxicating . 

Driving you to seek more to sate that drug-like addiction his lips were poured into you. A rough yet gentle hand moved over your skin to find rest on your back. A hand that guided you ever closer . 

And yet--yet even though you finally had it, your brain began shouting at you. 

Why?

Why now? 

Why when he had never once tried before? 

Why on some random Wednesday? 

Why when just last Wednesday you had seen him with another girl? A girl Benzo had laughingly congratulated him on finally winning over. 

Why when he had been pining after someone else?

Why, why, why?

You shoved abruptly away, water sloshing at your legs as if to try and soothe your hurt. 

“Are--” Silco started, breath heavy on his lips from the recent lack of it. “Are you alright?” He sounded almost--nervous. Anxious as you continued to place distance between you and him. 

Game . 

He likes to play the game. You’ve seen it multiple times before. 

He’s bored. He got bored and wanted a challenge. Or maybe he thought he could win the game against you easily? 

You didn’t want to play. Not when you truly had feelings for him. Not when playing would only get your feelings hurt.

Your eyes burned as you started out of the water, grabbing for your bag which held your overlayers. 

“I should get back.” You somehow managed to get out past your tightening throat.

“Back? Get back where?” The sound of the water moving alerted you to Silco’s exiting the pool. You quickly tugged the dress you had packed on over your soaked skin and clothes. 

“I--uh--Sevika. She’s waiting for me.” You pressed your fingers into your right eyelid, trying to rub away that burning. 

“Sevika--wait a moment.” But you didn’t wait. You slung your tote over your shoulder and started for the cave mouth. “Wait--” Silco grabbed your wrist in his hand, fingers feeling even colder thanks to the chill air and their dampness from the water. “I--are you not going to look at me?” You ran your free hand over your mouth to keep him from hearing your elevated and shaky breath. “I didn’t mean--I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just--well I thought…” His voice died out then, leaving his words hanging in the air. 

“It’s okay.” You schooled your face as best you could into that of its normal easy-going features before you turned to face him. His face was in that same calm it usually sat but his eyes--his eyes were raging like a stormy sea. So many emotions flashing through those eyes you could hardly even pick up on one of them. 

“No. No, it’s not. I--I overstepped. I can see I’ve upset you.” You shook your head, all but yanking a smile to your lips. 

“It’s okay. Really. I just--I have to get going.” Silco watched you for a moment longer. A moment when that heaviness returned to wrestle with the rest of those emotions in his eyes. 

“I--why do I feel like you are?” He asked softly. And just as softly you pulled your wrist from his hand. A hand whose fingers dragged along your own as if to weakly try to keep you there. 

“I’m fine.” You held your hand to your chest as if his touch had burned you. As if to keep your heart shielded. “I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Silco watched you as you began to back away again. 

“Okay.” You gave him one last, all too forced smile before rushing from the cave. A rush that grew into a run as your eyes blurred and your mind screamed at you for letting him get so close. Screamed at you for being such a coward.

Silco stood in that dank cave for a while. Just staring at the exit which you had rushed out of. Just thinking and thinking and thinking about what had gone wrong? About why the hell he had tried to kiss you in the first place when you didn’t want to. 

He thought you wanted to. He thought he finally saw that you might want to…with him . 

He was wrong. 

Very much wrong and now he had upset you. 

Very much so. 

Silco pulled his clothes back on and made his way out of your childhood home. 

Why had he done that?

It was so stupid. So, so stu--

Gods but he had wanted to. Had wanted to ever since you had saved him from that gang on the docks when you were teens. Had wanted to ever since you had told him you wouldn’t tell Vander of his failure and meant it. 

He’d chased many girls before. Had caught many of them too, but you-- you …he didn’t want to chase them like he wanted to chase you. You who he would risk drowning in the sea if it meant he could be by your side. 

But…you didn’t want that. Obviously, you didn’t want that. He was just trying to figure out why he had been so stupid in his thinking you might want to chase him back.

The Last Drop was rather packed for a Wednesday night. Though, he guessed it made sense, wanting to have a little fun and drink your sorrows away when cave-ins had started to become more frequent. When enforcers were marching through the streets looking for blood anywhere they could get it. 

Silco glanced towards the table he and his friends usually occupied and instantly regarded doing so. Regretted it because Sevika sat there, blunt between her lips as she smirked triumphantly at an easy win against Connol and Felicia. 

You were nowhere in sight. He scanned over the entirety of the bar to make sure of it. 

“Did she come find you?” Silco couldn’t have stopped his feet and mouth from moving even if he had wanted to. Sevika hardly glanced up at him as Connol began to deal out more cards for a new game. 

“Who?” A frustrated hiss shot from Silco’s grit teeth at Sevika’s words, hand all but slamming down on the table before her. Sevika blinked slowly at this. Blink slowly, leaning back in her seat to look at him near bored.

“Who else would I be looking for?” Sevika pulled her blunt from her lips, blowing a line of smoke into his face he only narrowed his gaze at. 

“I don’t know, Silco. You go lookin’ around for lots of girls.” Silco gruffed, pulling away from the table. 

You hadn’t come to find her. You would be by her side trying and failing to win the game if you had. 

He couldn’t help the small hurt that flashed through his chest at the lie you had given him. At your…your rejection of him. 

His eyes snagged on Felicia then, who was giving Silco an almost knowing smile. Caught on her pink painted fingernails running through Connol’s short cropped hair. 

A small touch. One Silco ached to feel from you. 

“You okay?” Felicia asked, pulling Silco from his hurt-filled thoughts. 

“I’m fine.” Felicia hummed, looking like she didn’t believe him at all.

“You two got into a fight huh?” Silco narrowed his eyes down at his friend. 

“Hardly.” She gave another hum, keeping that amused disbelief plastered on her face.

“Really? She is the only one who gets you all fussy like this.” Normally, Silco would laugh and play along but--but not now. Not tonight. 

“Keep your nose out of it. It’s none of your concern.” Silco snapped too harshly. A harshness Felicia only shrugged at but one that pulled Connol’s rust-colored eyes to look up at him. 

“No need to take it out on Felicia, yeah?” He spoke calmly. A calm that carried a very loud warning to back off within it.

“You heard the guy. Nothing to take out. She’s not bothering him. He’s unbothered.” Sevika chimed in, only making Silco’s mood worse. Felicia rolled her eyes, patting Connol’s shoulder as she started to stand. 

“Let’s talk, Silco.” Felicia nodded towards the bar.

“There is nothing to talk about.” He tried to keep the bite from his voice, but it slashed through his words regardless. “There was no fight. There was nothing. Nothing--” 

You came through the doors then, dripping water everywhere. More water than you had left the cave with.

He knew instantly you must have run to the docks and dove into the waters there. 

“Here we go,” Sevika muttered, only adding fuel to the fire burning in Silco’s belly. 

You caught sight of him and almost paled . Like you thought he wouldn’t be here. Of course, he would be here. He lived here. 

“Go for a swim?” Silco couldn’t stop the words from spilling from his lips as you came closer. 

“Uh--yeah.” You spoke as you came to a stop before him and the table. 

“You said you needed to go find Sevika.” You glanced Sevika’s way like she might give you an answer. An answer Silco knew she wouldn’t provide just by the sound of her shuffling cards. 

“I can’t go swim?” 

“You had just come from a swim.” He could see your frustration beginning to boil in your eyes. Could see he was toeing a very dangerous line and he knew he shouldn’t be this--this hurt. Knew he was only lashing out to lash out but he just couldn’t stop himself. 

Why couldn’t he stop? 

Why couldn’t he just walk away ?

“What does it matter to you?” You quickly questioned back. 

“It matters because you lied .” He responded just as fast. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m not in the mood for this.” You huffed, but Silco wasn’t done. 

“If you lied about such a simple thing as going to see a friend, then how do I know you aren’t lying about other things?” Stop . He needed to stop but his hurt was too strong. Was awakening his anger which he had been trying to keep under control ever since he was a kid.

“What--” You have a huff in your own anger. “If I lied then you lied.” 

“There was no lie.” You watched him for a long moment. A moment that had your own hurt flash through your eyes. A hurt he had seen flashing through them when you had left earlier. 

“I am not in the mood for your game, Silco. Never have been.” You all but hissed at him. Game? What game? He didn’t know what you were talking about. “But there are plenty here that might want to give it a go.” Silco pulled closer so that he could lean down to catch your eyes fully. 

He thought of your lips. Of how soft they had felt against his. How they held a bit of salt from the waters you both had just swam through. How you had kissed him back .

Why had you kissed him back? Why did you run away?

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You bore your dagger-sharp anger right back into his eyes. 

“It means go find someone to fuck and leave me be.” Silco felt those daggers skewer right through him at your words. 

“Maybe I will.” Again that hurt flashed through your eyes. Hurt you quickly masked with anger. 

“Go do it then.” You shot back. 

“Fine.” Silco shrugged. 

“Fine.” You mimicked. Neither of you moved. Not until Vander’s voice filled the space between you.

“What’s goin’ on you two?” You were the first to look away. He watched your eyes shift when they fell onto Vander. Soften.

Oh , it made his blood boil. Made his fists clenched so tight his fingernails dug into his palms.

“I was just leaving.” You pulled a half smile to your lips that had Vander sighing.

“You just got here, sweethea--”

“Don’t call her that.” Silco snapped before he could even think. Vander turned his cool, gray eyes onto him then, a frown pulling deeply at his lips.

A finger was shoved into Silco’s chest, a small pain blooming there. It was you and you looked very much over his poor behavior. 

“He can call me whatever the fuck he wants to call me.” You bit, pressing your finger harder into him. “You don’t get any say in that.” 

“Oh yes, I--”

“ Enough ,” Vander commanded, cutting Silco off from saying anything further. “What the hell’s got you two like this now?” 

“Nothing!” You and Silco both hissed. You both turned to find the other's eye again. 

Hurt . That’s all he saw in your eyes. 

Gods Silco was an ass. Gods Silco had messed up. 

“Nothing happened.” You spoke in a too- quiet voice. Said it like you were speaking directly to Silco. Your finger fell away from his chest then. He wanted to grab your wrist to keep it there, but his body couldn’t seem to move. “I just came to say hi. I’m…busy.” Vander sighed through his nose at your words, but nodded. 

“Alright, sweetheart.” The nickname had always grated at Silco’s nerves, but it shredded at them tonight. 

Silco watched you walk back through the bar. Watched you slam open the doors and let them slam shut behind you. 

He almost ran after you. He should have run after you but…he was still too angry. Too hurt. Too stubborn .

Felicia gave Connol another loving pat on the shoulder before rushing after you herself, not sparing him a single glance as she left. Sevika grumbled at this, throwing the cards back into the table. 

“What happened?” Vander asked again, voice more stern then it had been with you around. Silco waved him off. 

“You heard her. Nothing.” He made to walk past Vander to head to his room, but his brother grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. 

“You two butt heads a lot. Enough I can see this was different.” Silco yanked his arm from Vander’s hold on a scoff.

“Leave out of it.” 

“You made a move on her?” Silco leveled Vander with a look that had made many before turn tails and beat it. But not him. Not his brother. 

The worst part was that Vander had always hit the nail on the head when it came to Silco’s feelings for you. 

“Just talk to her. Tell her what you're feeling . ” Vander had told Silco many many times over the span of time they’d known you. Silco had always brushed his brother off. Always denied his feelings for you. But Vander was no fool. He knew. 

“Nothing happened.” Silco insisted, though his voice having lost a bit of its bite was a sure give away that something did . 

“I hope to the gods you meant it. She’s our family . Not someone you can have your fun with and leave.” He let go of Silco’s arm then. 

He wanted to hiss sharp words at his brother. Wanted to use the man as his own personal punching bag, but Silco’s feet were moving before they even caught up with his brain. 

They brought him up the stairs, down the small hallways, and up onto the roof where he fit a cigarette between his lips and watched as you marched off back through the dark streets. 

His lips itched to call out for you to come and have a smoke with him. To come sit with him and talk about anything . 

But again, he didn’t. Just watched and willed the heavy smoke filling his lungs to ease the onslaught of thoughts and feelings rushing through him.

Nothing.

There has always been nothing.

Though it didn’t hurt any less, knowing he could never have you.

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