#silco/reader insert

[somedaylazysomeday]

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

Silco x fem!reader x Sevika

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,900

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

And there were always predators in the deep. 

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

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

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

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

And he fucked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow, it was working for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And would you like to try?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are her eyes crossing yet?” Sevika asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you choose the one that vibrates?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is she wrecked enough for your tastes?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2024 #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane silco #arcane sevika #silco #sevika #silco x reader #silco x you #sevika x reader #sevika x you #silco x reader x sevika #silco x you x sevika #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #lemon #spicy #not suitable for minors #minors dni

[silcoitus]

WAT IF srry caps wat if reader/y/n has to seduce someone for a mission (she works for silco) but silco yknow is jealous (also srry I put she it can be gn) love ya.

-JL

Thank you for this request, JL! This was fun to write. Also if Hoskel sounds ooc, it's cause I didn't care enough about him to do more research on him lmaoooooo

Honeypot

Rating: Explicit—Minors DNI

Word count: 3.2k

Beta reader: @medic-simp

Tags: silco x f!reader, jealous silco, possessive silco, sevika, councilor hoskel, rough sex, penis in vagina sex, left open for a second part because i can’t help myself apparently,

It's been decided that you will seduce Councilor Hoskel in order to give Sevika and her team enough time to secure an important document from inside his estate. The only complication? Your boyfriend Silco is not enthused about the idea of watching you flirt with another man.

Read on AO3

A/N: In classic me fashion, I left an opening for a second part. Gotta go on the opera "date" to finish the mission!

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

Join my taglist!

#silcoitus #silcoitus writing #silco #silco x reader #silco smut #silco simp #silco x you #silco fic #arcane silco #silco arcane #silco fanfic #x reader #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader x #silcoitus answers

[imaginesbymk]

Arcane Preference

HOW THEY ARGUE & MAKE UP WITH YOU

Characters: Silco, Viktor, Jinx, Vi, Jayce Talis, Vander & Sevika.

Request: “what are arcane characters like after a discussion (*argument) with your reader. who would apologize first, how would they handle it.thanks” — @supermegapauselouca

Tags: i guess troubled relationships? 

A/N: espero que vc goste! likes/reblogs/feedback greatly appreciated!! (SO SORRY FOR THE LONG HIATUS i seriously blame my anxiety and depression)

update: I FORGOT VANDER UGH brb

support me on ko-fi & feel free to commission me!

—SILCO one thing’s for sure, if you two will argue, silco will always stick with his thoughts. he has more power, and his vision for zaun often scares you because of what could happen when war ensues. silco would never threaten you, but if you ever did something to sabotage his vision, you’d imagine the worst and eventually avoid further arguments with him. when he realizes that it’s not only his work that terrifies you, but also himself. you two have a one-on-one heartfelt talk, assuring that he’ll get hurt first before you do.

—VIKTOR you and viktor could be arguing over the littlest things, like him staying up too late in the lab, or the lack of attention and time he has for you. you learn that viktor has a low frustration tolerance and he’ll snap at you if you try to pursue the argument. you notice the realization and guilt hit him and you see it in his eyes and face, and he’ll apologize in a low voice and take it out on himself when the self-blame hits. 

—JINX jinx is never gonna admit that she’s wrong, so it’s just straight up gaslighting and lack of communication when you two argue. it would take her a while to finally open up to you because she destroys everything she sees, and one of you eventually apologizes. most of the time, it’s you apologizing for misunderstanding her, or her apologizing when she directly (or indirectly) hurts you. jinx cares and does not ever want to hurt you, but her actions and intrusive thoughts stop her from mending the damages she causes.

—VI you two will argue over everything. most of the time it’s for the sake of your own safety, and vi would never forgive herself if you ever got hurt and she couldn’t protect you in time. plus, vi is very sharp and tough as nails so her way of running things in zaun would not be to your liking due to the conditions and conflicts. vi always apologizes, though, and you two have to stick together if the two of you want to live and defeat silco.

— JAYCE TALIS jayce is pretty ambitious but yet so stubborn, so when you confront him on how he’s running council, he takes it very personally and looks down on you, thinking that you don’t know what you’re talking about and how you don’t know how politics work in piltover. jayce is the one who approaches you alone when he’s defeated and stuck in the situation he’s in. he admits that you were right, and asks for your help.

– SEVIKA you and sevika constantly bicker. she’s very verbal in the arguments, and insists that what she does is right, even if silco thinks otherwise. though you almost never see her soft or vulnerable side, you really want sevika to be responsible of her actions and what she says to avoid getting killed. she apologizes to you at the bar and offers you a drink. she knows she can’t focus without the thought of you getting hurt by silco, any zaun rival gangs or piltover enforcers.

#arcane preference #arcane x reader #arcane imagines #arcane league of legends #arcane #silco x reader #viktor x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #jayce talis x reader #vander x reader #sevika x reader #reader insert #preference

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Jinx x femreader whos timid but total sweetheart to her. Always paitent and supportive to her and tries to help calm her when she's expirencing a episode.

(Hey! Sure I can! Here, Enjoy!)

Reserved For Jinx

Jinx didn’t really get you

When she first met you she didn’t even really notice you

You were quiet, not confident and got scared and jumped a lot when someone would try talking to you

You didn’t have a lot of courage

Which was why you usually just helped with making things along with Jinx sometimes for missions

But after you and Jinx started dating that was a different story

She really liked it though! You were really kind, sweet and supportive to her!

It was kind of the first time she actually loved someone like she loved you

And let me tell you she loved it so freaking much

She was kind of nervous, which she never was, when thinking about you when you first saw an episode of hers

But you helped her so much during it

You held her the entire time she cried, even if she sobs and gripped onto your arms enough to bleed

She didn’t even see you falter as you whispered over and over “I love you” and “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” to her

After it was over she felt bad because she had hurt you

But you just kept reassuring her it wasn’t her fault and that it was okay

I think that was the moment Jinx actually figured out that you wanted to be with her 

Forever

And she clung to you ever since

Even if she did before she kicked it up like ten notches

She is also very smug she is the only one who gets to see you being nice to her

Will constantly blabber about you to Silco

The man gets tired of it once or twice

But he is happy you’re good to Jinx

Just keep it up and you’re all good!

#jinx arcane x reader #jinx arcane #arcane jinx x reader #jinx x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane reader #arcane reader insert #arcane jinx #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco arcane

[desertrose244]

Hi, uh, yeah I really liked Silco ever since my first watch but here I am - 2 years late to the Silco Simp Stampede. I don't even know where my resurfaced Arcane brainrot came from, but now I'm adding a third villain to my list T_T

PS: The braid and the prosthetic are already from a fic - I'll give it a post soon : )

#silco x reader #silco arcane #arcane oc #self insert #sevika #THIS FANDOM IS DEAD #((ABSOLUTE AGONY)) #WHY AM I COMING BACK #I HATE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS #I know I posted the oc drawing before but I touched it up and it was too embarrassing to keep up

[insult-2-injury]

The Coat Stays On

Happy (late) Birthday @averagecrastinator!! Thank you for being my pal. I simply adore you, so here's some smut! <3

NSFW | MDNI! | 3.8k words | Silco x F!Reader | Soft-ish Silco | Established Relationship | Fingering | Oral | P in V sex | Coat Kink | Fluff | d/s vibes |

AO3 Link

“Sorry, I’m late,” you say hurriedly as you respond to Silco’s quiet invitation by using your shoulder to ram into his office, your arms busy with a large, tattered wicker laundry basket, “But your laundry service is garbage and unreliable and I had to do it myself.”

“Had to?”

His good eyebrow cocks but he simply watches impassively as you rush in, steadfastly ignoring him, and the pen in his hand stills in its work.

“They never do get the blood out. At least not entirely. And it’s basic stuff, really.” You tumble through your words like mad, a bad habit of yours when you’re overworked and tired- never a particularly fruitful combination for someone who prides themselves on a smart mouth. “It’s like they don’t even know who they work for.”

You stand at the center of the room. “I mean a little hydrogen peroxide and some cold water and they were brand new. And what the fuck did you do, anyway, lop someone’s head off? It was messy.”

“I hardly believe you want the grisly details,” he says, but his gaze is latched onto the wide brim of your collar with a hawklike curiosity. “Anyhow, it sounds to me as if you may have taken on an unnecessary project.”

His tone is sharp and you know exactly what he’s not-so-subtly scolding you for: you always take on too much at once, placing the weight of problems that aren’t yours onto your own shoulders. And your worst crime? He was the one you complained to about it.

But who is he to be upset? Your unapologetic competence is what had him falling for you in the first place. You just did things better.

You scowl and practically toss the basket on the rose-colored chaise, feeling too stubborn today to concede, so you stay quiet.

Silco has that assessing tint to his eyes, trailing down the front of your form, now unobstructed, discerning the overcoat of his that hung just slightly too big off your frame, the shoulders wide, the cuffs of the sleeves reaching down to your knuckles. He’s unmoving, his beautifully mismatched gaze finally raising in question.

“Oh. Yeah. Didn’t have room in the basket so I just threw it on, I can’t believe you wear this thing everywhere, it’s heavy-”

“Did you walk the city wearing that?”

Your breath hitches at the muted strain in his voice, and if you weren’t so highly attuned to the covert undertones of his velvet voice, you’d think he was angry with you. There’s certainly a touch of it, a worried, disappointed bite to his words at the possibility of you having put yourself in danger, but there’s something else there, too, just a tad breathless.

You push on, taking on an air of indifference.

“Only for the short walk from my place,” you say, and with a coy grin, “I wore it with great pride.”

Silco’s gaze darkens at your cheek, depths growing hot amidst the calm sea of his teal eye.

“You should really be more careful, darling.“

His eyes track the movement of the hot shiver that runs down your spine at the purred double entendre, the tiny uptick of his lips tipping his hand, allowing you to see the pleasure he takes in throwing you off guard.

“How long have we been seeing each other, Silco?” you say, savoring the way his eye twitches before you turn to your task.

“Long enough for you to know better than to bother me while I’m working.”

You laugh.

“Awfully rude.”

“Was it? I’m dreadfully sorry.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs affectionately at your lips at just how unapologetic he sounds, and you chance a look, finding both eyes glittering across your figure again, goosebumps erupting across your skin in their wake.

His gaze, darkly delighted, meets yours before the pen begins to move once more and Silco returns to his work.

He’s busy today. And that’s fine.

You pull the coat tighter across yourself, cheek falling onto the soft crimson collar, allowing the comforting scent of fresh laundry to fill your lungs, and along with it, the subtle, fond smell of cinnamon and smoke. 

Sighing softly, you grab a white undershirt from the top of the basket, somehow maintaining an unbothered facade as you begin to fold his clothes with practiced ease, placing each gently on the taut, velvet fabric of the chaise.

As much as you enjoy playfully griping at him, you always find yourself wanting to freeze these little domestic moments in time, these sweet, comfortable silences.

You attempt to roll up the gold-trimmed sleeves of his coat, trying to bunch them up at the elbow and frown when they just fall again, impeding your progress. Annoyed, you pop at the buttons of his coat.

“Leave it on,” he snaps suddenly.

You freeze, hands stilling over the second button, and you wait, something devious and excited pirouetting across your chest, a thread of tension now in the air you feel you can reach out and pluck if you so desire.

But he says nothing more.

You’re certain of two things now: one, that Silco quite fancies the sight of you wrapped up in his coat, and two, that you’re going to exploit every second of it.

You move almost stiffly, reaching down to tidy your progress, smoothing your palms across the rich fabric of each of his folded dress shirts gently, terribly slow, as if handling a delicate baby bird, knowing full well he’s watching your actions closely.

You fix the top button of his coat and swipe your hands down it, walking unhurriedly toward his desk, his bladed eyes following you intelligently. You fiddle with the string on the lamp at the corner, knitting your brows together as if deep in thought.

The tips of your fingers trail across the piles of books littered across the surface, examining the titles as if you haven’t hundreds of times already, as if you’re even fractionally interested in the inner, infrastructural workings of Zaun. 

You trail the pads of your fingers across the dappled surface before your gaze meets his under the crowns of your eyelashes.

“Silco?”

He hardly reacts, two fingers propping against his temple, the other resting easily on the opposite armrest.

You move around the desk and his thighs part automatically to allow you between, a reflexive, practiced motion. Your palms drop to warm the tops of his legs, thumbs massaging his inner knee affectionately.

“How was your day?” you ask, tone light as a feather, and he looks unimpressed, but you can see, as your gaze drops, the fabric tightening at the front of his pants, the way his skin jumps beneath your teasing touch.

“Hm?”

You lean forward and your hands follow in kind, smoothing up his legs, until your nose is inches from his and your thumbs brush the sensitive, clothed junction between hip and thigh.

Silco remains silent, making no move to touch you, but his eyes are brimming with hard promise as he takes you in up close, tongue pushing against the back of his teeth in thought. With a deceptive gentleness that has heat pooling like liquid gold between your legs, he threads one set of long fingers through your hair, coming to a cradle at the back of your head. Your eyes flutter closed, 

“Won’t you kneel for me, sweetheart?”

The rare submissiveness Silco manages to pull out of you never ceases to stun, and his hand remains as you sink readily to your knees, allowing yourself a tender moment to slump against him as he cards through soft strands, tugging delicately through tangles, massaging your scalp. Your cheek rubs coarse fabric as you turn to place a tender kiss to his inner knee, gaze half-lidded as you now peer up at him.

His lax grip tenses into a rigid fist and he holds you there for what feels an eternity, your neck craning backward uncomfortably as he keeps you just on the precipice of real pain, taking in the breathless sight of you knelt there before him, practically whining, that wicked, villainous coat of his pooling around your form. He exhales something ragged before hinging forward, the chair creaking as he closes the distance, devastatingly slow.

“Didn’t I tell you I was working?”

Your voice strains from your position.

“Mmm. Can’t remember.”

You skim your hands once again toward that delicious hardness, gritting your teeth as your hand manages to graze the column of pulsing heat, all while Silco maintains his steely grip, forcing you to reach like a child would a toy on a too tall shelf.

He eyes your struggle for a moment.

“Crimson and gold rather suits you, dear.”

“My two favorite colors,” you say, noting the way his cock twitches under your flat palm. “I’d wear them every day if I could.”

You pant up at him and his eyes flicker across your form, almost as if he can’t decide what to focus on, pupils blowing out wide with every word you speak next.

“I want to wear them everywhere. I don’t care who sees me wear your coat. I don’t care if people know about us, or about the danger of it all. I want everyone-” A sharp moan is torn from your throat as his fingers tighten slightly in your hair, but you continue, breath fanning the loose strands on his forehead that had escaped their careful style. “I want the entire Undercity to know I’m with the Eye of Zaun. That he’s mine.”

Silco snatches your upper arms, hoists you up as if you weigh nothing at all, and your back greets the cool, curling iron of his office window just as his mouth finds yours, pressing punishingly forward.

“Such a tease,” he hisses against your lips, hands holding your face firmly in place so he can devour you, tongue expertly rolling, licking into the cavern of your mouth, chest rumbling almost in frustration as he can’t seem to get enough of you.

“Why you love me-” You barely manage to stutter the words out before he’s back, his hips flexing against yours, sending a pang of delicious heat to your core.

Your hands grip into his vest, pulling him flush against you.

“Maybe so,” he breaks away, eyes wild, enamored by the red wreath of his coat collar encircling your head. The rough pad of his thumb finds your plump lower lip and folds it down.

“Unbutton,” he says, voice rough with command.

“Ask nicely.”

“And here I thought you knew me so well. Unbutton.”

You capture his thumb lightly between your teeth, tongue swirling once before you release. “You first.”

 There’s a ruthless twitch of his scarred lip before he tilts forward to drag the blade of his nose across the delicate shell of your ear, warm breath tickling your neck.

“You drape yourself in my bloodied threads only to hide what lies underneath?” His low, coarse voice drops even further into a throaty pitch that travels straight between your legs. “I don’t think so, darling. Un-button.”

He knows he wins this game every time.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you do as he commands, intentionally slowing your movements, normally nimble fingers working at the top button for a long while as he murmurs praises into your ear. He nips at your jaw and you hardly hasten, a heady power washing over you as he pulls back, rapt, to watch you reveal the simple green dress beneath.

Long, sinful fingers play at the hem of the fabric, mid-thigh, before hitching onto the coat, traveling upward teasingly, his thumbs extending to stroke across your collarbone when he reaches it.

”You are striking,” he says, gentle sincerity padding his tone.

A twinkling warmth flares inside your chest and you catch onto his lips in another searing kiss as his grip on the coat moves downward and his thumbs brush alongside. Your mouth pauses on his, and you feel his curling, diabolical grin as he purposefully circles the sensitive skin of your breasts, eliciting a small whine out of you before he relents, dragging digits across the stiff, clothed peaks and quickly inhaling the gasp that follows.

Silco brings his hands around to your back, squeezing the soft flesh there and tugs you further into him, his cock an impossibly hard pressure against your lower belly.

As much as you’d like to take charge, command it was time he unbutton now, you’re too impatient, hands darting out to release him, but before you can he snatches hold of your wrists and drags them upward, placing them on an iron wrought bar, a part of the windows swirling, industrial design.

“Hands to yourself tonight, dear,” he says, folding your fingers carefully around the cold metal above.

“What is it, you wanna fuck me up against the window like this?”

Your intent is to lure, to shatter that patience of his, as stiff and iron as the rail you cling to, but your voice is undeniably ragged with want, and he hears every shuddering hitch of breath.

“In time,” he says simply. His breath fans across your cheek and his hands ghost down to your bare thighs, using ungodly long fingers to drag the hem of your dress up until your panties are exposed.

“But first,” he drags two fingers through the crease between your thighs, pausing to press into the soaking wetness collecting through the fabric covering your pulsing core. You may like to push at every turn, but you bow now to his command, gripping your fingers tighter around the bar above, nails digging into your palms. “I wanted to see just how hot it makes you, wearing my clothes like this.”

You thrash and release a pathetic, broken cry as he flips his wrist upward, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

He hums.

“I did have my suspicions.”

“Judging by the tent in your pants,” you gasp once you catch your breath, “I’m not entirely alone in this.”

He chuckles darkly, moving your panties to the side so he can dip two fingers into your drenched heat, alternating between brushing touches to your entrance and lazy circles around your aching bud as he observes your reactions to him.

You’re in distress, pushing your hips desperately to grind against his hand, but he stays in a relaxed rhythm, keeping his touches featherlight.

You groan in frustration and it’s only when your head thunks against the glass in submission when he pushes in just barely, and you clench around what little he offers, just one knuckle deep.

“Wearing it, does it make you feel powerful?”

Your answer is a clenched jaw.

Silco’s lips twitch and his fingers begin to pull out.

“Yes, yes, yes. It does. It does,” you whine and his lips find the delicate skin of your neck, pressing a tender kiss to your pounding pulse point.

“Makes me feel,” your brows knit together, eyes falling closed as he presses those two fingers into you approvingly, starting out an excruciatingly slow rhythm. “Makes me feel-”

His forehead presses against yours as he plunges deeper and swipes your clit with a rough digit, your words cutting short in a strangled cry.

“What’s that?”

Oh, he is such an ass sometimes. You fight through the thick cloud of lust and open your eyes, staring dazedly at the space between his brows.

“Makes me feel good. S-strong, even. In con-control. Ngh.”

He’s pumping faster now, thumbing that bundle of nerves with fervor and sending you into a near delirium at the pleasure of it all. Your arms tremble from the grip you maintain on the bar above you, everything in you wanting to run fingers through his hair, but knowing he’s always made your patience worth the while. His forehead pushes further into yours and it’s like he wants to fuse his body entirely with yours.

You continue.

“Like I’m about to get f-fucked by the most powerful man in the Undercity.”

“Stay still for me, darling,” he says, beginning a slow descent down your body, and you brace yourself in realization, legs trembling at the sight of the Eye of Zaun coming to a kneel before you, hooked thumbs dragging your panties down to your ankles as he does.

“Oh, you really are a wicked thing. Knew exactly what you were doing walking in here wearing this,” he says as he works you, his bladed nose pressing into the skin just above your clit, sending little puffs of air across the sensitive nub as he speaks. “My clever, beautiful girl. And so good to me. So. Good.” He emphasizes with a particularly devastating hook of his fingers that has you seeing stars, a shockwave of pleasure stoking the fires of an incoming climax. 

Your voice is hoarse and pleading as he increases pace, as you approach release.

“I want to touch you.”

“You won’t,” he instructs simply and you stifle a sob.

Which turns into a choked hiccup as Silco burrows forward, tongue sliding impossibly hot and wet between the folds of your cunt, circling lazily around your clit before lapping at your weeping entrance, pushing the muscle as far as he can inside you.

You’re a moaning mess of writhing limbs, arms trembling uncontrollably, legs valiantly fighting the urge to squeeze his head between them, sweat beading at your brow as your climax approaches.

Silco drags the heat from your entrance to round your bud again before replacing his tongue with three fingers this time, pumping out a perfect, curling rhythm. 

“Cum, sweetheart,” you hear him say through the blinding hot tension.

Your eyes squeeze shut and his soft lips find your clit and with a gentle suck and the teasing fluttering of his tongue, you shatter.

You don’t have control over the way you cry out, shoving back against the glass behind you with the overwhelming intensity, or the way your hands fall from the bar to bury in his hair, how you reactively grind against his face. But he never minds, a hum of pleasure vibrating from his throat as he pulls every last drop of pleasure from you.

The last whimpers wrench from your throat and before the dots in your vision even fade, you’re stumbling mad, stomping in an effort to rid yourself of the panties around your ankles, kicking off your shoes as well.

Silco stands unhurriedly, holding your gaze as he licks the remnants of your release from his fingers.

“I believe I said no touching.”

You mumble under your breath, legs jello as you grab the armrests of his chair, dragging it to the window.

“What is it exactly that you’re-”

“I love you,” you cut him off, railroading his surprised form until you’re shoving him into the waiting chair, crawling on top of him, your thighs spreading wide, bare pussy cold to the air, coat settling over his covered thighs. “I love you.”

You grab the lapels of his coat and pull him into a kiss, deep and savoring, tasting the bitter tang of yourself on his lips. He relaxes into your touch and you tighten your thighs around him, cradle his face, press further into his mouth and your chest tightens as it always does, at the knowledge that you’re the only one who can do this. The only touch that can make the King of Zaun melt as he does now, arms encircling your waist, grinding you against his front.

“I’m yours,” you say, working at the stubborn buttons of his pants and he doesn’t stop you this time, his eyes moving savagely across your face, hands working alongside your wriggling hips to untangle the dress from under your legs.

“I’m yours,” you repeat, taking him into your hand and pressing your forehead to his, stroking him once, twice.

“And I yours.” 

His voice is gravel, tattered and ancient and released from the most primal depths of his chest.

You curve forward, allowing him a view over your shoulder of his Kingdom, the one he rules with an iron fist, you by his side. You kiss along his bladed jaw, before your mouth presses hotly to his ear, hardly able to catch your breath through the desperate, fresh bout of arousal that’s sunk its claws into you.

“Fuck me. I’m yours.”

A groan, short and harsh, is released from his chest in a rattling exhale at your words, his jaw dropping open just slightly as you move your hips against him. His hands roam every inch of your body, traveling up and down your spine, tracing the outline of your breasts, before falling to your hips.

He pulls you further into him, your face pressing softly against the cushion of the chair, and you know him, you know the heady power he feels with you clasped in his arms like this, looking out over the city he built from the ground up. Reaching down, you grasp his cock to align him with your entrance before lowering yourself down slowly.

“I want them to know,” you whisper, “It’s time they know.”

A growl tears from between his teeth and you hiss, and he is pensive no longer, hand snatching the back of your neck to pull you out from where you hide. He snaps his hips upward, filling you to the hilt, and watches a divine pleasure cross your face as you cry out, loud and sharp.

“Let them know, then.”

And you don’t hold back, allowing him to hear every yelp, every tattered moan that he unleashes from you as he fucks up into you. 

“Janna, you’re perfect,” he grits, one hand gripping your hip, the other encircling your throat lightly, holding you there so he can spectate. “Perfect.”

And it becomes almost a breathless, brutal chant as he pumps his desperate need for you into your pussy like he’s in a close race for first place.

A second release is torn from you as you ride him, rising up swiftly enough that your jaw drops in surprise, noiseless as you’re crushed by powerful waves of bliss. You spasm around him, legs quaking like fury and it isn’t long before he reaches his own peak with a jagged groan, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he slams you down to the hilt, spilling himself inside you as you claw at the front of his shirt.

You don’t know how long you sit there boneless, slumped against him as he softens inside you, his hand carding through your hair again, dampened with sweat. Closing your eyes, you mumble lazily into his ear.

“Hey.”

You not so much see but feel the tired, amused smirk on his face as he answers.

“Hm?”

“Can every day be laundry day?”

<3 <3 <3

If you liked this piece, please check out my other works! My master list is here. I survive off your reblogs and comments, and I would love to hear what you think! AO3 Link if you want to toss me some kudos there!

Thank you @x-amount-verbs for tolerating my chaotic timelines and helping me edit super last minute, as always (be honest, you wouldn't have me any other way).

This was taking a different, less dommy turn before my brain derailed and started a mad sprint toward what I know best. So, Cras, I hope I delivered a healthy amount of 'domesticity' and if I didn't, well I just hope I delivered something. Happy birthday, darling!

Stay unhinged,

Sulty <3

#silco x reader #silco #silco x you #arcane #silco arcane #reader insert #mdni #smut #silco x f!reader #sinday

[speuradair]

Drunk Silco, Viktor Headcanons

Request: “hcs for how silco & viktor act drunk?👀”

While sober Silco is still passionate about everything he cares about, whether it be his work to gain control and independence for Zaun or his beloved partner, he’s still quite stiff and cold about it

Not that he doesn’t want to be openly passionate, he just shows it in a different way than most people

From an outsider’s perspective he may even seem dismissive of his partner, though in actuality he’s the farthest from it

He just shows his care and affection in his own way that might only make sense to him and his partner

However

When he’s drunk, any sense of restraint or decorum just escapes him

He becomes so openly affectionate towards his partner than it’s almost sickeningly sweet

Drunk Silco gives Gomez Addams vibes

Passionate, Affectionate, traditionally romantic

openly simping for his partner

will spontaneously pull you into him and kiss up your arm while telling you how you take his breath away before wanting you to dance with him

surprisingly good at dancing too despite being completely wasted

Silco can never focus on work after he’s been drinking, because he just doesn’t want to

He wants to have you in his arms, his fingers in your hair, and your arms around his torso

You’re already on his mind 24/7 but when he’s drunk he can’t resist the urge to focus solely on you anymore

Silco knows how sentimental he gets when he drinks a lot so he doesn’t have more than a drink or two unless you two are completely alone

It’s not that he’s ashamed of his feelings for you, he just prefers to keep that side of him reserved for you and you alone

He’s so rigid when sober, pls just let him cling to you while he’s drunk bc you’re all he can think about

Viktor actually finds drinking to be pretty enjoyable

he doesn’t overdo it or anything, just enough to lessen his chronic pain

he wants to be responsible with it of course, and he also finds that drinking too much stops him from being able to competently work

he doesn’t get fully drunk very often, usually just a bit tipsy

but when he does get drunk, he becomes an absolute puppy of a man

Viktor is affectionate in general, not having any reserves when it comes to wrapping an arm around your waist or giving you a soft forehead kiss

so when he’s actually drunk he’s all over you

he not only wants to endlessly express how much he adores you, he wants your constant reassurance and praise of how much you love him too

almost always ends up lying with his head in your lap, looking up at you with these lovesick puppy eyes that are only ever given to you

please play with his hair or caress his cheek while he does, it’ll make him openly giddy

on a different note though, Viktor has a tendency to get a bit chaotic as well

he’ll have all of these ‘scientific breakthroughs’ and ‘brilliant discoveries’ that are actually him just explaining already understood scientific concepts

he’s frantically scribbling something on a chalkboard while babbling

“so what if instead of being an invisible force, it’s actually a bending of space, that’s why bigger objects have a greater pull- this is incredible, this could change everything!”

“Baby, that’s just the Theory of Relativity. Einstein already proposed that.”

“… what?”

“You’re very smart for coming to that conclusion on your own though!”

just support him, he’ll figure things out i swear

he really is a genius, just

not so much when he’s drunk

#arcane #league of legends #viktor #silco #x reader #headcanons #self insert #fanfic #imagine #maidhc writes

[a-gal-with-taste]

Flu-Season (Oneshot)

Summary: You stayed with him, partially because you know the stubborn man would mount an escape-attempt the moment someone looked away, regardless how close he came to hacking out his lungs.

You also stayed, because you loved the fool.

Tags: Sickfic, banter, humor, established relationship, young!Silco, pre-canon, cuddling, Silco X GN!Reader, 1067 Word-Count

A/N: Quick-gift for a sick-friend, everyone is legally obligated to write @ink-and-dagger get-well card, and this is mine

There was something to be said about the stubbornness of man.

It was unshakable. Undaunted, rivelless, much to your chagrin, and ceaseless annoyance.

"Sit down," You commanded, lowly and eyes narrowed into blazing-slits, not so different from the deadly-edge of blades pulled from fires. "Sit. Down."

Taunting you silently, Silco braces his palms harder against the surface beneath him and raises an unimpressed brow when your tightly pursed-lips go bloodless. He swivels, enough to let his legs dangle over the cots-edge with a glint in his pale eyes, that is as-much rebellious, as it is feverish.

Opening his mouth, you expect he wants to make a grand-speech to christen his revolt against your order.

Instead, he bursts into a coughing fit.

"Idiot." 

Another harsh length of coughing, when the Son of Zaun tries to deny the accusation.

"Dumbass," You chided tiredly, walking forward with one hand releasing the thickest blanket you found to push back on his shoulder, unsympathetic to the familiar coughs, and unaffected by the insulted-look he gave you when you nudged him again. "Hey, no one told you two to take a dive in the river-"

"It was that, or arrest," He insists in a rasp, looking at you incredulously. "Would you rather be dealing with Enforcers for our release?"

"Honestly, I'm debating whether or not to turn you in myself, let them handle you."

"Such loyalty, darling," He said with an eyeroll, apparently using the last of his strength to perform it. The next push had him bouncing back onto the bed, an action that left his sweaty dark-locks in a damp halo around his head, and a drawn-out whine slipping from his mouth.

Smothered quickly, when you tossed the comforter over his body and face.

"Yeah, loyal enough to assure the rebellion doesn't end in a cough and a whimper," You sigh, allowing him to settle, albeit grumpily, before you give his body another firm push. Deeper into the already-thin mattress, and further to the side. “I’m also loyal enough to make sure you don’t go-running. Scoot.”

“I wouldn’t run-”

“You’ve tried to escape. Six times now.”

“Because this is humiliating. Uncalled-for. A blight on my reputation-!”

The very instant he tried to raise his voice, in response to rising ire and indignation at the insult of being tended to, he burst into another coughing fit that you watched flatly. Such dramatics had become the norm in the last couple days, as a dip into the cold-waters of Pilt had transformed a simple annoying cold into a full-fledged bout of flu, that seemed to strike at the Son of Zaun with a vengeance. 

The fourth-time he tried to sneak out on patrol, shivering, sweating, wheezing, and looking so-absolutely pathetic, that you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

But you stopped sympathizing at the third-attempt to leave his bed. 

“Save your breath. Move over.”

Silco possessed a glower that would send most Pilties quivering in their boots and heels, but the slight pout to his lips, paired with his huddled-position under the comforter, made it difficult to take him even remotely seriously. Thankfully, he realized this for himself, and wasted only a short uncoughing sigh before shifting, relieving some room onto the mattress for you to sit down on.

“Your immunity is preposterous. How are you not sick?”

“Too smart to get sick. You, however, jumped into a river.”

“Again. It was that or an arrest.”

You doubted that was the only two options, but it mattered little at this point. Nudging off one boot, toeing off the second, you soon reclined back on-top of the comforter with a lingering sigh. “Keep-on telling yourself that, champ,” You murmured, reaching over to pat the top of his head, patronizing despite the deepening-scowl it earned you.

When you tried to pull your hand away, a weak, but steady set of fingers locked around your wrist, thumb tapping out a thoughtful beat on your pulse as your eyes slipped closed, basking in the near-domesticality after a day of playing the role of two.

As much as you could.

Despite your efforts, no one could replace the headache, the whiny-baby, the absolute buffoon that was the man who was supposed to be resting beside you.

The very same man who didn’t know how to shut up and save his breath, evident by his croak, “You don’t have to stay with me.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Opening your eyes, you tilted your head until your cheek rested on the mattress, eyes finding his hazy, thoughtful and quickly-tiring green gaze. “And besides that, besides how infuriating you are, I want to stay with you.”

Because, stubborn as he is, only Janna-knows what the fool would attempt to do without a guard to watch over him to quash any escape attempt.

You also loved him. 

As if reading your mind, those green-eyes slipped closed as a faint, resigned smile bloomed onto his face, coaxed out by your hand lowering to cup at a fever-heated cheek. “So sweet to me.”

“You don’t deserve it,” You assured him, half-joking. “Not after jumping into a river.”

“Vander jumped too.”

“So maybe I should go cuddle-up with him then-” The threat, again only half of a joke, was thwarted-immediately by Silco turning over over, enveloping you in body and comforter as his arms pulled tight around you, squeezing when you grunted out his name in surprise.

“Don’t you dare,” He murmured, pressing you tighter against him when you shifted to get comfortable. It wasn’t all-that difficult, even if the fever from his body was quickly-seeping into the thicker layers of comforter and clothes, you found it easy to grow comforted in the man’s arms as his rasping breathes evened-out.

A good thing, because even as exhaustion wore him down into rest, the strength in his arms never-faded - you imagined you would be here a while. The thought made you sigh, but also smile wearily, as hand traveled up to smooth the dark-ink of his hair back, murmuring affectionately about how gross and sweaty it was to the now-napping man.

It was indeed, very gross, but nonetheless, you did not leave him.

Partially because you imagined the stubborn fool would still attempt a retreat upon awakening, despite clearly lacking the strength to make it anywhere beyond the room.

And also, because you loved him. As stubborn, gross, and idiotic as he was.

And even after a week after he was back on his feet, it was your turn to start coughing.

#silco #arcane #silco x reader #arcane silco #young silco #reader insert #gender neutral reader #arcane fic #silco fic #sickfic

[ursawastricked]

The Glimmering Pearl

Silco x f!reader Moulin Rouge inspired fan fiction

The Dens Delight, a nightclub, one tucked between the undercut of Zaun and its sister city of Piltover, is the secret delight of the rich and poor of Runeterra. The call of loud swing music, the smell of cheap booze, and the warmth of the dens dancers draw in crowds by the hundreds every night, in attempts to lure them into spending.

You call this place home, it loves you like its daughter, and you take comfort knowing that the people love you just as much. That doesn't change that tonight,,you meet him. The eye of Zayn, the kingpin of the undercut,,and he might just be your ticket out of here.

warnings for fic: Drinking, lewd behavior, night club activity in general

word count: 3,289

total wordcont: 3,289

Silco found little joy in places like this. Despite The Drop's atmosphere of bright lights, loud music, drugs, thugs, and alcohol all surrounding him in most of his day to day life, he at least had the luxury of it being muted beneath his office. It didn't bite him like it did here. The sickeningly intense stretch of “rose” perfume stung his nose, and the booze sprinkled about on the floor and patrons stung the rest of his senses as he fought his way through the sea of under city patrons that flocked to places such as this when they needed to feel worth something.

Perhaps it wasn't his scene, but for Finn it was like home ground, which would be the only reason Silco had crawled here to begin with. With him he dragged some extra hands, but found that they too had quickly been washed away in a sea of drunkards, or pulled away by half clothes workers, each one's skirt a differnt brightly colored pattern to draw the attention of whomever had money to spend.

That is what made this place so aggravating. It wasn't like the brothels, those at least held some class in Silcos opinion. At places like Babbettes, attention was requested, then provided, it wasn't demanded, it did not result from a sudden “mis-step” that landed a women lewdly in your lap, or sneaking hands of a pretty face taking inappropriate hold on someone to weasel them into spending hard earned coin. He didn't worry about randomly spilling cheap beer on his silk vest, nor did he have to worry about them then offering to take it off for him. Simply put, he wasn't having fun. He wasn't enjoying the festivity filled floor below, packed not only with thousands of Pilties, desperate for depravity despite them sharing the house with Aunties who too had ventured here for that reason. He less enjoyed that now as he finally found sanctuary in a box seat above, that he could see Sevika, sitting back in a plush armchair, a lady hiking up her peacock colored skirt in his muscles lap, and as she would put it “Having friendly conversation”.

He grumbled lightly, offering a light from Finn as he sat finally. He accepted the silent offer, tucking a cigar between his lips and allowing the flames to lick at the end of the expense tobacco roll. He closed his eyes, another failed attempt to drown out the numbing sound of the ballroom below, as he inhaled a thick cloud of smog into his lungs. He held it for a moment of ease, letting it burn his throat and maybe even seer away the dreadful taste of whatever that wicked bartender considered ‘top shelf brandy’, before he willed himself to exhale the black smoke and let it ribbon away into the ceiling above. His good eye followed its path lazily, finding it curling around a collection of ropes and scaffolding tucked above the box seats and further toward what appeared to be the old placement of a chandelier. He wondered what monster had decided removing such a piece would make this palace look better, clearly a chandelier would vastly improve the facade of class in a place like this, but who was he to judge interior design. He was sure the random placement of ropes and wood made for a much better design choice, not to mention against an old classically crafted glass ceiling. Indeed, why would a chandelier be a valuable piece to keep. 

 His discomfort was quickly caught by Finn, who smirked at the rare entermainted of an uncomfortable and out of control Silco,“Is it too much for you, old man?" he taunted, flicking closed his lighter before snapping it open again, keeping in time with the current music. “I suppose after so many years, the sound of fun can be too much to bear.” he continued, leaning over the ledge and watching as workers danced about with unknowing citizens, unaware of how much each of those stolen kisses would cost them. “Perhaps you, Finn, confuse mindless noise for entertainment..” Silco snarled back, low, controlled. He tapped the ashes of his cigar into a provided bowl on the small table they were given.Finn only offered him a chuckle in response, shrugging off the large gold coat he had worn as he approched and placed himself into the opposite chair of Silco. “Mindless noise? Do you not hear the laughter? The singing of the entertainers?’ “The drunken howls, the croud whistles at the passing waitress, the belch of vomiting patrons…” Silco added bitterly, taking another deep breath of his chosen grounding tool tonight. Finn only stared back, aggravated quickly by the negativity. But to Silco, truth came in positives and negatives, if one side was to be ignored, then you were missing the picture. In this case, missing the picture of a loud, over decorated, overrated, and overly fancy club, one that looked pretty to hide the shady work it openly offered. The two watched each other's expression for a long moment, as two predators would in a territorial competition, who could remain standing their ground longer. But it was Finn who broke the silence first, rolling his hand over the table as he reached for his empty glass and held it up in signal to the standing by server. “I must admit, I had hoped for at least a little down time with you, Silco. Perhaps a meeting that doesn't require a rehearsed debate over the constant work and stress of running our little empire,” he began, maintaining their locked gaze as the server approached and poured a generous amount of amber liquid into Finn's waiting glass. He gestured for Silco to have his glass filled as well, before dragging it to his lips and letting it pass over his tongue during the pause in speaking.

“My empire..you still find yourself in the habit of forgetting where you come from. Where I came from.” Silco sneered, not given the courtesy of a glance to the server as they filled his glass and retreated back behind the curtain.

“Again with the age debate, ‘remember our lives before’, ‘the mines from which we came’, It is always your age that defends your power Silco..and I had just told you, I had hoped for down time with you.” Finn reminded him, placing down his glass with a soft ‘tink’.

Silco rolled his eyes slowly, taking his own glass and leaning back in the seat he had. He felt much more at ease then he would like to admit when the liquor passed his scared lip and spread over his tongue. He was elated to taste actual brandy, not the gasoline he had been fed not thirty minutes ago when he had first arrived. The flavor was rich, a velvety, warm taste, the whispers of the imported fruits it was made with still ghosted into each drop as he swallowed and let the liquid warm his belly, further drawing him into a more comforting position in this prison he found himself in. Embarrassingly enough, it had tamed him enough to cease the fight against Finn and just relax into his seat.

“Besides, the show tonight is one I think is best enjoyed when you have only her to focus on.” Finn cooed, reclining and gazing off into the crowd below. Silco took another blissful sip, considering the words Finn had said without much worry. Yes, this place was well known for its exotic performances, dancers, singers, usually half clothed like the rest of them. But now, with a drink in his hands, smoke in his lungs, and the sound of music slowing down, he welcomed whatever performance was interesting enough to catch Finn's attention as often as it seemed too. Let the show begin,

“Im sure.” he hummed, in reply, closing his eyes and clutching to the comfort of good brandy and an expensive cigar.

Another thirty minutes passed, Sevika arriving back beside Silco, dragging along the peacock lady and sitting her comfortably on her knee as she resumed her guard over the kingpin. He offered her a nod of acknowledgment, earning a satisfied nod back from her, enough of one that he had noticed the smudge of lipstick across her cheek and further down her neck.

He lifted his glass back to his lips before he saw the light dim, and following it immediately was the hush of the loud music, the hush of patrons and the awful howls of laughing girls. He followed all their gaze, to the lowering figure from the ceiling. Above the world, like a bird descending, a swing lowered just level with the box seats where the eye of zaun had found himself. Perched on the seat was a figure, one he had not quite expected. You. You sat above the crowd, your eyes closed tentatively as you held tight to the ropes connected to your seat. You held your breath, still finding your breath a bit constricted by the tight costume they had pulled you into tonight. It was a torturous thing, tight, stiff with what must have been a thousand false pearls, expertly patterned to trace your figure and accentuate your curves. You cross your legs expertly, earning a whistle from below and giving you a little boost of confidence. You straighten your back, take in a deep breath and start your usual performance.The silence breaks with a silk like voice, one Silco didn't expect as the swing slowly sways, and allows for the limited light to shimmer off the pearls stitched to your costume. His gaze locked first onto the tall black heel you wore, but slowly trailed up long legs, to the start of your costume just above your hip, and dragging slowly to your shoulders. But what broke the facade of his disinterest was when you suddenly dip your head back, catching his gaze in yours and revealing the face behind the vision he had been blessed with, as you reached out a hand toward the booth, and the swing slowly began to swing, descending down into the crowd below. His heart raced at the limited eye contact, and he found himself now like Finn, leaned closer to the edge of the box, chasing you to keep your figure in his sights as the music swelled slowly around the hall, reaching its peak when your heel clicked too the floor and you stood at the center of it all. The center of a once chaotic hell scape, had ceased and created a pool from which this divine thing could fully shine, and he was enraptured. This was entertainment indeed. Especially as your voice rang through the sound and your feet followed a practiced little prance around the crowd grabbing playfully at random from time to time and dragging them into your next little move before abandoning them in favor of another. You held the entire hall in the palm of your hand, those not too awestruck to speak offering your whistles, howls, and the occasional help in the song. You chuckle as you allow for a lucky customer to dip your weight, teasingly snatching his cap and placing it on your head for safe keeping. You leave his head spinning and Silco finds a light smile on his scarred lip as you step away, leaving everyone around you chasing your touch, one he imagined was heavenly based on how the other visitors clamored for a chance at it. He rested his glass against his lips as you retreated back to your swing, standing on it with a tight grip on the flimsy ropes before it lifted you again in the air. “Quite the show isn't it, Silco?” Finn murrmered on, stealing a peak at how Silco had become so focused after spitting so much distaine for this place earlier. Silco chuckled lightly, feeling just as relaxed as Finn insisted he be tonight, humming a quick “mhm”, and inhaling a deep breath of smoke. You smiled teasingly at the patrons that flooded where you once stood moments ago, spreading your stance a little for balance as you began to lean back and let the swing move carefree above them, using enough force so that the trajectory of it had began to circle and allow you a to give those in the boxes a bit of a closer look as you. Janna, this always felt so good, yes the height was a little frightening, but the way the people flocked to you, around you, starved for any glimmer of your attention, you felt like a god among them. But as always, the best part of a performance was engaging the audience, and you had been looking out all night for people to play with. About an hour ago you had been doing one final walk around before being dressed, when your eyes caught something particularly interesting moving through the club. A familiar Burgundy colored coat that swept over the dance floor and up the stairs into Finn's box. He was a regular, one you had a few run-ins with in the past, the occasional dance, invitations to his bed after a paid for “chat”, all of which you had politely declined. It wasn't in your best interest to leave the club with patrons after all, you were higher class then that, The Glimmering Pearl of the undercity. But this not so mystery guest, he was more your interest tonight. A ‘big catch’ as your den mother would put it. So you pulled your swing back, aiming directly for that box, and swinging back and propelling yourself toward the balcony. You hooked your legs over the lip of the ledge, sitting yourself nice and pretty in front of a very startled Eye of Zaun. He stared, dumfounded, the snicker of his accompanying crowd. How delightful, the king of the undercity, positively flustered at your sudden appearance. You could swear there was a hint of pink appearing across his skin, through it could just be the lights. You offer him a sly smile, tilting your head and kicking a foot up to rest the tip of your heel just under his jawline. He stared forward, completely enchanted as the satin of your shoe dragged against his skin, causing him to involuntarily lean forward into it. His eyes met yours finally, half lidded, hazey with a building desire as your heel was now placed on his shoulder. It was an easy transition to slip off the ledge slightly, and push more of your weight into his chair as you rested your one leg other his shoulder and leaned close enough to truly see if it was the lighting that resulted in that exquisite rosey color in his cheeks..it was to your excitement, not a trick of the light.  “Good evening, I do hope I didn’t startle you” You hummed, drawing your hand to your chest dramatically, feigning apologetic.Silcos good eye caught the movement effortlessly, taking a moment to admire how the lace of your gloves looked against your skin tone. Only then did he flick his mismatched gaze to yours, ignoring that his face was warmer then he would have liked. You looked into the infamous gaze, finding yourself a bit frozen when the burning orb of his bad eye focused itself on you, a gaze that had often resulted in the blood-spill of maybe thousands. It made you nervous, but quickly you tried to psyche yourself back up, back to flirting, maybe earn a little favor from the royal head of the undercity. “I can’t say I mind,” he replied, training his gaze on you before putting his half finished cigar to his cracked lip, maintaining eye contact as he took a long inhale. Despite your expertise in this, the game of flirtation, you held your breath. It was caught in your throat like you were preparing for something that wasn't coming, and you weren't able to hide it before he had seen it. The roll in his  mouth escaped its hold, and you failed to keep your eyes seedy, as they had now locked on his mouth. Silco cracked a half smirk, titling his head back to exhale the long cloud of smog from his lungs. It was an offered opening, one you hastily took to breath and return to your usual practice routine. You were able to bring back your coy smile, and bring your hands to his tie. You played with it between your fingers, as you expected it was fine silk. With a little smirk, you went with your usual game, loosening it before pulling it away from his throat. You waved it in front of his face,“I expect that back Madame,” he hummed, catching Finn's far too satisfied smirk in the corner of his eye. You giggle lightly, “Well,” as you drag the fabric over your chest, causing Silco to squirm lightly in his seat beneath you. Far more in your element now that you had an in, you tuck the scarf into your cleavage and push your weight back onto the ledge, “I expect i will be seeing you again then.” You tease, watching the hint of challenge in his good eye as you turn and give Finn a fast wink of acknowlagment, waving a little goodbye before you were back on your swing, being pulled back by gravity far away from the Eye of Zaun. As you vanish and drag the warmth in his lap away, Silco gives a disappointed sigh, watching you fly off with his scarf..He breathed in the last breath of his dying cigar before tapping it out in the ashtray. To his left, he can see Finn's stupid smirk still plastered on his artifical jaw.

“How much did it cost you?” Silco asked, refusing to give him anymore for the question, he didn't plan to disrupt his viewing experience just to address a constant thorn in his side. “Not a single coin.” Finn purred, leaning forward to follow you in time with Silco. Silcos raised his eyebrows lightly, trying to hide it, fruitlessly. It wasn't a feeling he would have admitted too, the burning feeling igniting deep in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, the top of the flames licking at his heart. You land again on the ground floor, enveloped almost immediately by the crowd of waiting fans, allowing light touches, lifts, and dips as you make your way to the stage. You strut, trying to keep up your sultry energy, lips softly pursed, eyes lidded, but you struggle as you fight away the growing heat in your cheeks, you try to convince yourself it's all the action. As you huff in a deep breath, tiptoeing up the stairs and clicking your heels loudly on the stage with a loud hollar into the crowd. Silco feels a hum deep in his chest as the sound echoes into him, and his pupils dilate. You give a few playful steps back, up the further stage steps into the feather like bed at the back with a deep call of your final verse. You lay down your weight, flirtatiously flicking your leg over. “MMMwah!” You call, with a dramatic kiss thrown into the crowd. You pull out your stolen scarf from your cleavage, waving it playfully toward Silco, whom you are pleased to see, just as focused as before. You feel the burn in your cheeks win, just as the curtains flutter closed in front of you, and you feel the heat finally reach you, the heat of that single burning eye that now knows about you. Your way out of here.

Yippie! my first big fic!

I really enjoyed working on this one, and I hope to write a part two if it goes well. 

If you enjoy for would like more please lmk, I'm finding for pretty Silco content 

#silco x you #silco x reader #silco x oc #arcane silco #silco x f!reader #silcoarcane #silco fanfic #arcane #arcane x you #arcane x reader #arcane series #arcane self insert #arcane oc #arcane fanfic #arcane fandom #arcane x reader fic #silco x reader fic #silco x female reader #silco x gn!reader

[floreshouse]

Something to Tinker With ; part one

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Reader (SFW)

Series Synopsis: The day you returned to Piltover with Ekko’s damaged hoverboard, you didn't expect to cross paths with a certain scientist who, unbeknownst to you, had his eyes on you since day one.

Important Context:

There will be eventual NSFW.

The story takes place a couple of months after Act One. Jinx would still be 11 and Hextech wouldnt yet be developed to its full capacity.

Warnings: pining, awkward situation, reader has a strained relationship w/ her dad, jayce being a doofus

Word Count: 2.3k

The pitter-patter of the rain made you more anxious about the time. Professor Heimerdinger was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, and you were starting to worry about his whereabouts. 

Today had been a long day, with visiting Ekko and passing by an ugly incident between the enforcers and a couple of drunk men just as you were leaving the Undercity. 

You emerged into Piltover with a smashed hoverboard in hand and a promise of finding someone to fix it as you headed for Heimerdinger’s office like you did every Thursday at five.

But now it was 5:32, the clock was ticking, and there was still no sign of the professor. You had nearly fallen on your face while sprinting all the way to his office due to your new shoes and their stupid shoelaces that didn't seem to understand that a knot was meant to remain tied; all this for nothing since he was not here, and, had you know this, you would have taken your sweet time while enjoying the view of the academy grounds.

Posted footsteps echoed behind the door, and a well-known high-pitched voice emerged from the hallway, seemingly in a vivid conversation. The door flew open and in walked the professor, who happened to be accompanied by who you thought must have been a student.

“Yes, my boy, this is a great opportunity to expand your areas of knowledge” The door closed behind them, and only then you noticed the cane that was supporting the guy’s body. “Here I hold many inventions and I would be happy to give you a challenge. What type of machine would you be interested in?”

Viktor was about to answer him when he noticed they were not the only ones in the room. Heimerdinger raised a confused brow at the lack of an answer and turned around, meeting your gaze. His face morphed from confusion to surprise and realization.

“Miss Y/N! I apologize greatly, I seemed to have gotten carried away with Viktor here.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you shook your head in embarrassment.

“Don't worry about it, professor.” Your eyes met the young man who shied away from your stare, leaning on his cane uncomfortably. “Time flies here in your office.”

Heimerdinger turned towards Viktor, whose expression was hard to read, or at least to you since the professor chuckled as he looked between both of you with a knowing look.

“Viktor I would like to present you to Miss Y/N. She studies in the literature department of the school” You waved at him shyly and he returned the gesture. “Y/N was born in the Undercity just like you; she is my informant and one of the brightest minds in the academy, I'm sure you guys would enjoy each other’s company.”

Your gaze shifted toward your feet, unused to the praise you were receiving at the moment. Your hands squeezed what was left of Ekko’s hoverboard as Viktor’s stare pierced your soul.

“Viktor is here in search of a device to tinker with” The professor explained “He’s a great inventor and is working along with Mr. Talis on a personal project that I believe will change the world.”

Your eyes brightened in recognition having known Jayce from a project not so long ago. You shifted your gaze towards Viktor once again, though he seemed more interested in the device you were holding in your lap; it was hard to ignore it due to its design and it being nearly the size of a small shelf.

You spoke before he could even ask.

“It's a prototype of a hoverboard. The kid I babysit crashed it and I promised to get it fixed” You smiled at the memory of little Ekko’s anger towards himself for letting it get broken; he had been building it with one of his friends for so long and this was the first one that actually worked but, just like that, in a couple of minutes, it was gone. “Is this something you would be interested in tinkering with?”

Viktor made his way towards you, muttering a quiet ‘May I hold it?’ and you realized it was the first time you had heard him talk. His accent was rich and alluring, and you longed to be able to listen to it again.

You nodded, shifting in your seat as he crouched slightly. A weight was lifted from your thighs as Viktor clumsily sat next to you on the small couch, grabbing Ekko’s invention. His eyes assessed it meticulously; the object glowed in a bright green and you learned the bad way that if you touched it in the wrong places, the electricity would zap you.

“How exactly did this kid crash it?” He held it up against the light coming from the window. A small piece shattered due to the movements, and the remaining objects fell on his lap, along with a big golden screw that caught his attention. “It looks new, but I believe it must have been quite the accident for it to end up this way.”

You chuckled under your breath explaining that it was indeed, quite the crash. Viktor shifted in his seat, making the screw roll towards his inner thigh, about to fall between his legs. You watched as if it was in slow motion, and before you could think about how inappropriate this action might seem, your hand landed on his crotch, holding the screw.

Before he could even process the movement, you held the object towards him, looking anywhere but his face. He grabbed it hesitantly, eyes wide, but after a few seconds he seemed to register the touch and his cheeks were covered in a cloud of pink dust. Your eyes finally landed on Professor Heimerdinger, terrified of the prospect of him having seen the awkward interaction. Still, relief filled your body when you turned and he seemed more preoccupied with chuckling at his Poro, who had managed to fall face-first on a stack of papers waiting to get graded.

An overwhelming feeling hit you right in the chest, clawing at your throat and begging you to please leave the embarrassing situation.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Viktor.” Heimerdinger looked up to see you were already standing up, flattening the wrinkles on your skirt “I'm very sorry, Professor, but I have to leave soon if I don't want to be late for work; today we had the inauguration of a new drink and I believe the café is hectic according to my boss”

“Oh yes, Miss Y/N, duty calls.” The Yordle smiled understandingly “Perhaps tomorrow I might stop by to discuss some trivial matters. I would also like to try that Pumpkin drink you've been offering since last week.”

You chuckled nervously as you headed towards the door, not without petting the small Poro that hovered around your feet. You had always thought he was a risk of tripping but never said anything for Heimerdinger’s sake.

You spared a glance towards Viktor, who was still sitting on the couch, the hoverboard no longer resting in his hands, but on his lap, and the golden screw being flicked between his nimble fingers. “I hope you find enough of a challenge with this… Invention, Viktor”

His lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “I'm sure I will, Miss Y/N.” 

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

“I mean- Everything would be okay if Bonnard had the balls to apologize to Fi. She would have forgiven him! But he just had to be a hissy-pissy man.” Koa, bless his soul, had been droning on and on about the fighting match that his neighbors next door had been having the night before.

Ever since you had met him, you reveled in his ability to talk shit while making the most intricate drinks in the house with no mistakes.

You had tried that once; talking while making a Cocado-Crisp Frappuccino, and it ended up with two failed attempts and an angry customer. 

You put your apron on and looked around to see the café twice as full as you had expected; your manager, Sao, had told you that it had been this way since morning and that they had to order an emergency delivery since they had been running out of product.

You knew for a fact that this place had always been one to be hectic; you had many regulars who came daily for their fill, along with the classic coffee addicts that stopped by and ended up staying the whole day; having a twenty-four-hour library café was a dream place for students in the Academy, and it just happened to be stationed right in the campus.

Today, though, there was a monumental amount of people coming in and out; the line was so big that if you looked at the establishment from the outside, you would be able to see people on the sidewalk waiting for their turn.

“But anyway, what can you expect from a guy who is only living off of daddy’s money.” Koa rolled his eyes as he scribbled a name on the cup before turning to you. “So, how’d it go in the Undercity? Did you run into your dad’s new kid?”

You glared playfully at the redhead “You know I don't go near that part of town.” you cut a piece of cake and placed it on the microwave “In all honesty, I don't even know what the girl looks like. The only thing I heard is that she drives him crazy.”

“You know, he might be looking to replace you with her.” Viper’s voice startled both of you, causing you to let out a small shriek. 

“You know it might be true though” Koa agreed, handing you an order for a Mocha. “He went crazy looking for you and now, all of a sudden, he adopted a weird little girl he found on the streets. It adds up; he loses a kid and replaces it with another.”

“Okay, now you are making it sound like children are some sort of toy.”

“Wait that's not what I meant!” He complained “I'm just saying; she might be his way of coping after losing you”

You blinked a couple of times, assessing the information, and then moved on.

“You guys might be on to something, not gonna lie” You poured the drink on a cup and put it over the counter next to a Cafe Au Lait, though before you were able to go back, you noticed that the cake you had heated up was still there, waiting to get picked up. “Koa, who ordered the lemon cake?”

He frowned as he looked through the names written down on the long list of orders. “Talis. It was actually ordered to go with the Au Lait and the Mocha”

“Oh that must be Jayce then,” You said. You grabbed a small box meant for the pastries and put the cake inside and placed both coffees in a cardboard cup holder “Lemon cake, Cafe Au Lait, and Mocha to go for Jayce Talis.”

You rang the bell as you placed the order on the counter once again. Soon, a tall guy emerged from the sea of people holding his receipt up high. He nearly tripped on the way to the counter but he managed to get there in one piece.

“Oh hi Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here.” His eyes lit up before receiving his food “This place is amazing, what are you guys celebrating?”

Jayce was one of the brightest students in the academy, you were sure of it, but one thing you knew for sure after working alongside him on a Literature project, was that he hardly paid attention to his surroundings.

“Well, it's a new drink that the owners have launched” you explained “It's actually not a big deal, just boba, but with all the advertising people must have thought it was a new technological advance of some sort.”

“I wish drinks were part of technology; that way I would be good at them” He took a sip of his Mocha “Damn, I think this is the best Mocha I've ever had.”

“I'm grateful you feel that way; I made it myself” Viper handed you a coffee and you placed it on the counter for it to get picked up. “You don't strike me as a type to get a Cafe Au Lait, who is the lucky girl?”

Jayce seemed to choke on his drink, a deep laugh vibrating through his entire body. “It's actually for my lab partner, his name is Viktor. He's working on fixing some sort of device he brought into the lab. He has been very protective over it; I've barely even seen it and I'm not even allowed to touch it.”

“It's a hoverboard, actually” The boy stared at you in utter confusion. You would have laughed, but your professionalism kept your calm demeanor. “I met Viktor today; Heimerdinger introduced us. Long story short, he wanted something to tinker with and I gave him the hoverboard so he could fix it. He said he wanted a challenge and the thingy seemed interesting enough.”

“OH” Jayce’s eyes were blown wide and his jaw fell open dramatically. “You-” He looked in your direction as if he recognized you from somewhere but didn't know exactly where. You gave him a few seconds to pull himself together and watched him struggle to get the words out when the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together in his brain. “Well- It's getting late and these drinks won't be warm if I don't hurry. Bye Y/N, have a good day, and a good life. Bye, goodnight! Bye, see you later, goodbye.”

You watched him struggle to leave the place as fast as the sea of people allowed him to do so, before looking back at you from the door, waving goodbye, and scurrying past a young couple.

An old lady stepped forward grabbing the coffee you had placed on the counter. “That sure was an odd little fella,” she said, before putting her receipt in your hand and waddling away.

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[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Nineteen

Another event, another fancy outfit, and a surprise.

Silco x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 4,800

Warnings: Ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, references to poverty, mentions of pollution and addiction, mentions of alcohol, fingering, unprotected sex, intercrural sex

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

There were many parts about running a charitable outreach that surprised you. From the sheer amount of paperwork to the fact that too many donations could be a bad thing, this life was full of unexpected twists. 

The twist that occupied your mind the most at the current moment was how you were expected to have outfits for formal occasions. A lot of your life was spent doing dirty work or cleaning up messes - literal and figurative. That didn’t translate well to high heels and tailored outfits. 

But special occasions required appropriate outfits, and the grand opening of Jazper’s apartment complex was a very special occasion indeed.

The complex - one Jazper had named Stonesea - was beautiful. You had toured the apartments and found them spacious and well-designed. There were rooms for meetings and community gatherings both inside the building and out, on screened-in balconies overlooking the Lanes. 

The massive structure was built in a square, surrounding a protected courtyard. Jazper had explained that he brought in a botanist from Piltover to design the courtyard's gardens. They had worked together to curate a selection of plants that purified the air and dirt without requiring a lot of sunlight. 

The majority of the day’s celebration was to take place in that courtyard. At the moment, the crowd was standing outside of Stonesea, waiting for Jazper to cut the ribbon bound across the front entrance. But when everyone did enter, the courtyard was stocked and staffed, ready to serve a light lunch to all invitees and new residents. 

At first, you had been wary, concerned that the people there would close themselves away and become a shut-in society, frightened of the Undercity outside. But Jazper had considered that as well. One day a week, on a rotating day, local shop owners would be invited into the courtyard for a small specialty market. Or on days when the air was clean, they could hold the market on the street outside. 

Not every apartment had been filled, but the building was rapidly working toward full occupancy. Many of the residents were people who had either been through the Haven or knew people who had been. All of them were aware that there was a zero-tolerance policy toward Shimmer possession or use inside Stonesea. 

You and Jazper both knew that the Shimmer ban was unlikely to be enforced. There wasn’t much he could do about a resident using Shimmer, not unless they damaged the property or harmed another resident. But it was the appearance of the ban that was the most important. 

A year ago, openly refusing to allow anyone to use Shimmer on the property would be seen as an act of outright aggression against Silco. Stonesea would have been avoided by anyone with half a brain, fearing the repercussions that the chem baron would bring down on Jazper and his business. 

The Undercity was changing, though. You had to admit that Silco had played the game masterfully. Most of the work had been done by you and others like you, but he was seen as indulging the small neighborhood around the Haven, and even people who worked for him thought Silco only let you continue your work because the futility of it amused him. 

In any case, residents seemed to take their promise to avoid Shimmer seriously. And that, more than anything, gave you hope. If enough people made a pact to keep Stonesea Shimmer-free, it would reduce the chances of anyone bringing the drug in. If there were enough people who decided to keep Shimmer use out of the neighborhood, maybe it could stand even without Silco’s manipulation of the drug market. 

Not that you had any plans of ending your deal. No, Silco had dropped several hints that your deal would not be broken without bloodshed and death. That probably should have bothered you more, but all you could really think about was that you had an excuse to keep being around him. 

And that bothered you. 

You let yourself be distracted from your snarled thoughts by a technician walking across the front of Stonesea and testing the microphone that had been set up there. Electronics tended to suffer in the Undercity’s atmosphere, but it seemed to be working when he beckoned across the space. 

Jazper half-jogged over to the microphone and was met with a smattering of applause. You cheered as loud as you could, and were rewarded with a beaming smile from him. “Hello, everyone! Thanks for coming to the grand opening of Stonesea. I’ve had the pleasure of opening several buildings, but this is the first one I’ve made in– in this area.” 

You grimaced at the slip - Piltover architects, like anything else from Piltover - weren’t especially welcomed in the Undercity. But no one seemed to take offense, letting Jazper continue his speech. 

“I hope to bring comforts and useful amenities to the people who choose to make Stonesea their home,” Jazper continued. “And I hope to be as helpful to the neighborhood as you all have been to me. I will proudly say that this is the most excited I’ve been about an apartment complex since my first one. I can’t wait to show you all what we’ve been working on.” 

Jazper accepted an oversized pair of scissors from the same technician who had set up the microphone. “Welcome to Stonesea.” 

He sliced through the ribbon in a decisive snip, gesturing people inside before the halves had fluttered to a rest against the sides of the entranceway. The technician scarcely managed to snatch the microphone and stand out of the way before people began to pour into the building. 

You let the rest of the crowd go first. You had seen Stonesea in various stages of being built and finished, so it only seemed right to let other people see it before you did. When you trailed in at the back of the group, you couldn’t help but smile. The courtyard looked stunning, of course. It always did. The air felt fresher, though you were mostly certain that was a trick of the mind. 

No, you couldn’t help melting a bit at the reaction of the Undercity residents. The crowd had been made up of local business owners and a few of Jazper’s associates, but it also held a considerable number of ordinary people. Some of them were the future Stonesea residents, but others had heard the promise of a free lunch or were simply curious. They stared around in open-mouthed awe, more than one stroking the leaves of the foliage with something approaching reverence. 

Jazper told you that Stonesea was designed at roughly the same level of decoration as his Piltover apartment complexes were, just with different materials to lower cost and protect against the dangerous air of the Lanes. But as far as the residents were concerned, it could be the finest place they had ever been, on par with a Piltover mansion. 

It reminded you what you were working toward, and you were filled with a quiet contentment as you wandered around talking to people. 

When Jazper tapped you on the shoulder, you turned around and immediately offered your beaming congratulations. “It’s perfect, Jazper! I’ve already heard half a dozen people talk about applying to live here. With the amenities and the rent cap, you’ve built the perfect place for the Lanes.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” Jazper said, offering a playful half-bow. “But maybe you should save some of those congratulations for yourself. Or at least for both of us.” 

“I’m… sorry?” you asked, at a loss for what that could mean. 

“If you’ll follow me to the Innovation meeting room?” Jazper requested, holding out an arm as he indicated for you to lead the way. 

Fortunately, you knew Stonesea’s layout well enough to do exactly that. You arrived at the meeting room in record time - your eagerness to know what Jazper had meant made you walk even faster than usual. 

When you were in the room with the door closed behind you, Jazper turned to you with boyish excitement. “Do you know where you’re standing right now?” 

You tilted your head slightly. “The Innovation meeting room.” 

“No! Well, yes, but the important thing is what will be happening here in only a month.” Jazper’s eyes sparkled as you leaned in as if to encourage him. “In one month, Stonesea will host the very first meeting of the Undercity Innovation Committee, right here in the Innovation room.” 

“The Undercity Innovation Committee?” you repeated slowly, trying to guess at the purpose behind the too-pleasant name. “What is that?” 

“That is a group of like-minded business owners who are finally becoming aware of the untapped market of the Undercity,” Jazper told you. “Limited to those who have businesses or organizations in the Undercity and operate them with an eye toward improving the lives of Undercity citizens.” 

“Those will be small meetings,” you said with a smirk. It disappeared when Jazper’s grin widened. “Unless-?” 

“Yes!” Jazper was positively beaming. “After seeing how fast Stonesea filled and the tax breaks the city gave us for building here, I have a few colleagues who have bought buildings in the Lanes. They’re all set to break ground on new businesses within the next month.” 

Your jaw was starting to ache with the breadth of your smile. “That’s- Jazper, that’s incredible! What kind of businesses?” 

“They span a few different industries,” he explained. “One will be a grocer, hiring people for shipping, transport, and store staffing. There will be another apartment complex mirroring Stonesea’s business model, which will offer housing and train staff. A mechanic’s shop, looking to train a group of apprentices on repairing most common appliances and sending them to fix things across both cities-” 

You laughed loudly enough to interrupt Jazper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “That will be… I can’t even begin to think about how many lives that will change. Jazper! I don’t want to get too eager, but it’s starting to feel like we can really do this! We can change the Undercity!” 

“I know,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m trying not to get excited too soon, but it finally seems like we’re getting somewhere. It’s exciting! And, of course, everyone wants for you to be part of the Undercity Innovation Committee.” 

“Me?” you asked, trying to blink away the tears that rose. “The Haven isn’t a business, not really…” 

“But it’s what started all of this,” Jazper countered. “Having proof that there were some Undercity citizens not addicted to Shimmer was what gave me the confidence to start working on Stonesea. If anyone deserves a place on the committee, it’s you.” 

You nodded shakily, not trusting your voice enough to say anything aloud. Jazper seemed to understand, offering a sympathetic smile and nodding toward the door. “Come on, let's go enjoy the party.” 

And you did, eating and chatting and basking in the growing feeling of community until you had to leave. Unfortunately, your next meeting with Silco had fallen on that day. 

If you were being honest, that made you slightly nervous. If you and Jazper could sense the tide turning against a Shimmer-obsessed society, surely Silco could, too. He had told you openly that his funding came from sources other than Shimmer sales, but you suspected that he couldn't be happy about the changes. 

Still, he would be even less happy if you missed your appointment, so you made your way to The Last Drop in the early afternoon. The building was as empty as you had expected it to be, and you went directly upstairs to Silco's office. 

“Hello, pet,” was the greeting you received. Other than the nickname, it was as mildly pleasant as you would have expected with any business associate, and it put you more at ease.

“Hello,” you greeted in return. After a moment observing his desk, you asked, “Paperwork?” 

Silco glanced from you to the haphazard scatter of papers across his desk. A wry look crossed his face. “Indeed. It is never ending, as you well know.” 

You nodded in commiseration, though you were seized by a sense of strangeness. You and Silco did many things together, but exchanging pleasantries was not among them. 

“Fortunately, I have far more pleasant activities with which to distract myself,” Silco said, replacing his pen in its holder. “You're looking well, my little philanthropist. Special occasion?” 

You had changed out of your celebration outfit, but he could apparently still see the care you had taken with your appearance that morning. You lifted one shoulder in a shrug you hoped came off as carefree. “Just trying something different.” 

He gave an enigmatic hum at that, but didn't reply. Instead, he swiveled in his chair, looking up at the window behind his desk. “Join me.” 

It was a request rather than an order, and that enticed you to comply from sheer curiosity. When you got to the window, standing beside his chair, you didn’t see anything you hadn’t expected to. The street outside held a few people, but not many. The neon signs across the way were unlit, and the gray stone of the Undercity stretched away in every direction. 

But the look on Silco’s face was almost blissful, so you looked again. 

The people on the street weren’t rushing nervously, they were greeting each other and falling into occasional conversations. The signs were dark because the sky was lighter than it typically was, murky sunlight illuminating the Lanes. From The Last Drop, you could see a lot of the surrounding neighborhood and were struck by the idea of Silco’s watchful eye keeping guard on his people. 

“It’s wonderful,” you admitted, surprised that you honestly thought it was. 

“It is,” Silco agreed. “I wish everyone could see Zaun as I do. As we do. I well remember our conversation about it being unfinished. We have far to travel if we are to build the Zaun our people deserve, but I believe it is important to appreciate the wonderful moments.”

“Our people?” you repeated before you could fight the question back. 

Silco gave you a sidelong look, seeming more than a little amused by your question. “Yes, our people. Do you think I have missed the work you have done for Zaun?” 

Guilt twisted in your stomach. “I don’t-”

“And I am hardly the only one to see it,” Silco interrupted. “Is that not why Jazper invited you to the grand opening of his venture?” 

“Stonesea is close to the Haven,” you pointed out. “It would be awkward if he didn’t invite me.” 

“Perhaps,” he agreed, shifting his weight. That tiny motion closed the gap between you, pressing his arm against yours. “But he shared the news of Zaun’s upcoming growth with you. Surely that implies more than a professional courtesy.” 

You turned to him, eyebrows flying upward. “You know?” 

Silco smiled. “Of course. I know every important development in Zaun, and especially those that impact this neighborhood. Did you think I would overlook it?” 

“I- You never-” You took a quick breath the reset your snarled thoughts. “I was unaware you were so well-informed.”

He chuckled. “Then your subtlety was an attempt to hide the new businesses coming to the Lanes? My dear, you are vastly entertaining when you underestimate me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yet I consistently underestimate your ego.” 

“Mmm, foolish,” Silco agreed, leaning over to nose along the line of your jaw. It made you shiver, but he only pressed closer. “An ego fit for a king. You would do well to keep up.” 

Your mouth opened and you started to ask how he meant it - was Silco telling you to remember that his ego was a force to be reckoned with, or did he want you to grow a similar ego? - but his lips pressed to the side of your neck, followed by the sharp sting of his teeth. With your mouth already open, you had no hope of containing the gasp that escaped you. 

Silco’s mouth stayed on your neck even as he began to nudge you, guiding you steadily toward the window. You went willingly enough, letting his pose you with your hands braced against the window - one on the frame and the other on the window itself. When he had you where he wanted you, he turned his attention to other things, stripping you of your clothing with quick, efficient movements. 

“Look at it, pet,” Silco purred in your ear. He pressed himself to your back, and you could feel every bit of him against your bare curves. His hands slipped around you, one cradling your breast while the other worked steadily down your stomach and toward your mound. “Look at Zaun. We have far to go, but look what we have built so far.” 

“I’m not sure-” 

That was as far as you got before Silco’s fingers delved between your legs, parting your folds and stroking between them with steady, inexorable motions. You gaped at the window, staring blankly at the street beyond the glass panes as your world narrowed to one of feelings rather than sight. 

“No matter,” Silco continued. “I am certain enough for the both of us.” 

You had lost the thread of the conversation, but you didn’t mind - especially when one of Silco’s long fingers steadily worked its way inside of you. His thumb strummed at your clit, his other hand playing between your breasts as you tried to guess at where the sensations would stem from next. It was difficult, which kept you poised on the edge of uncertainty. All you could do was feel. 

There was no way to track the passing time, but you were grinding against Silco’s hand by the time he finally drew away from you. If he had told you that you were dripping onto the floor, you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

You whined as his hands disappeared from you entirely. Silco tutted behind you. “Patience, lovely, patience. Take in the wonders of Zaun from your vantage point while you wait. I will not be long.”

The glass panes of the window were fogged, outlining the shape of your palm and spread fingers. “Silco, please. Whatever you’re doing, hurry.” 

“‘Whatever I am doing’,” Silco repeated, tone full of teasing that you were too keyed-up to appreciate. “With minor effort, I am certain you could work out what I am doing.”

It was true - you could hear the rustle of clothing and myriad other sounds of a person getting undressed. “I was commenting on how long it’s taking. Even you don’t have that many buttons on your clothes.” 

Silco chuckled. “Untrue. I have articles of clothing with more fastenings than you could imagine. I simply did not realize that ease of access would be such a vital part of choosing my outfit for the day.” 

“Never-” You had to stop and swallow before your tongue would cooperate enough to form words. “Never thought I would be able to accuse you of not planning ahead.”

Silco hummed at that. “You must rob me of my ability to think clearly.” 

You would have rolled your eyes at the overly complimentary nature of that comment, but Silco plastered himself against your back. His pelvis pressed flush against your ass. You could feel his length pressing against you, perfectly aligned with you.

Whatever he said, it was obvious that Silco was the one who kept you from thinking clearly, not the other way around. 

You canted your hips and pressed yourself backward toward him. With the angle you had chosen, he could feel every drop that his earlier ministrations had wreaked on you. 

Silco's jaw clenched - you could hear his teeth clicking together beside your ear. You grinned as you amended your earlier opinion - maybe you and Silco wrecked each other's concentration. That made you feel better, even if it seemed bad for the safety of the Undercity. 

“Are you ready, pet?” Silco asked, his voice filled with more grit than you could remember hearing it hold. 

You laughed, glancing back over your shoulder to find him looking almost irritated. “Are you serious? Can you not feel the answer?” 

“My good manners are wasted on you,” Silco lamented. 

Your mouth was opening around a sarcastic reply when Silco pulled his hips back the slightest bit. The small movement notched the head of him at your entrance, and he thrust forward in the next second. He rammed into you at top speed, not giving you any chance of adjusting to the intrusion. 

With your lips already parted, you had no chance of holding back the desperate sound that he pushed out of you. It bounced off the window, echoing back loud and strangely flat. You could clearly hear Silco’s chuckle, likely because he was standing with the sharp point of his chin hooked over your shoulder. 

“Good girl, letting me hear you so clearly,” he commented. “I think we can keep it going, hmm?” 

The instant his hands closed around your hips, Silco was pushing further into you. Your stance widened, both to keep your balance and to give him better access to you. It would have been easier to lean forward into the window - that would have left him plenty of space. But with the way his grip was biting into your skin, you had a feeling he wasn’t going to let you go that far. 

A cruel little punch of his hips made him bottom out inside of you, and you felt the length of him buried in your heat so deeply that you would almost swear he was a part of you. 

You gasped, pulling one hand away from the window grame. Your intention had been to place it against your lower belly, to see if you could feel him from outside of your body. Before you could pull away from the frame, Silco’s hand lashed out, grabbing yours and pressing it back where it had been.

“Stay still,” he ordered, voice like velvet. “You are utter perfection here, like this.” 

You nodded, but he didn’t move his hand. Instead, it stayed covering yours as he began to move. That first time he withdrew from the depths of you sent shivers over your entire body, and your eyes fluttered shut with the feeling. 

“I know, pet - it is overwhelming.” Silco kissed the side of your neck, the quick flash of his tongue against your skin making you suck in a breath. “Yet I cannot help but admire the view.” 

You managed to open your eyes just enough to see the window in front of you beyond the reflections of Silco’s office. It was an enthralling view…. But you also realized that the gray light falling through the glass panes illuminated your body, gilding it enough to be visible from Silco’s perspective. 

Even as you watched, Silco moved his hand from your hip, stroking it downward from between your breasts to the apex of your thighs. He parted you deftly as you watched breathlessly in the reflection of the scene. He found your clit with ease, giving it a leisurely stroke as your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder.

When those fingers left you, they simply drifted backward to tease along your folds. The stimulation there was nice, but the pleasure was muted and tickling. It was only when you shifted your weight unhappily that you realized Silco was teasing the base of his own cock. 

The selfishness of that should have irritated you - or at least exasperated you - but you found it intensely compelling instead. To be used for his pleasure was a humbling thing, but you found that your walls gripped him a little tighter. 

Silco hissed at the contraction of your body around him. “Are you close, dearest?” 

You thought about that for a moment. You were, in fact, so you nodded, leaving the rest of the explanation to fade into the recesses of your pleasure-soaked brain. 

“Good.” Silco’s voice was slightly unsteady, and you didn’t think it was due only to the harsh desperation of his thrusting. “Let’s get you over the edge.” 

His fingertips teased back up, traveling over folds and tracing the lips of you until he found that utterly devastating cluster of nerves. Rather than continue his teasing, Silco stroked your clit mercilessly. You were left gasping and twisting in his arms, sobbing out your pleasure before you even knew that your orgasm was getting closer. 

Silco continued to push in and out of you, his fingers toying with your clit until you were standing slack in his arms. When he did release you, it was only to alter your stance until your feet were closer together. A few strokes in your sensitive channel, then he withdrew with a sharp groan. 

It took a moment to process what he was doing, but you eventually caught on - Silco was pressing his throbbing length in the scant gap he had created between your thighs. 

He fucked into that tight space furiously, tipping you forward with it. Your hands against the window and his arm looped around your waist were the only things keeping you standing when he grunted, thrusting forward with all of his strength. 

Hot cum dripped down your inner thighs a moment later, and you could only be grateful that Silco had removed your pants entirely instead of leaving them to shackle your ankles. 

You slumped against the window, uncaring at the moment that you were naked as you stood watching the not-empty street. You had long since noticed that everyone was too scared of Silco to stare up at his window, so there was a reasonable chance for privacy. In any case, there were good odds that you wouldn’t make it anywhere else in the office. Even the thick slide of Silco’s softening cock out from between your thighs left your knees trembling. 

“Give me a moment to catch my breath and I’ll help you clean up.” 

The offer made you feel a little better - at least you weren’t the only one who had been affected by your session. 

By the time your heart rate and breathing had slowed to a normal pace, a soft handkerchief was smoothing wetness from the insides of your thighs. You were still facing away from Silco, which was the only reason you managed to force the question from your lips: 

“How much of that did you mean?” 

Silco didn’t ask you to elaborate. Instead, the silence turned thoughtful as he wiped the last traces of himself from your skin. “I’ve never considered myself royalty. A leader of Zaun, perhaps, but nothing so authoritarian as a king.” 

“Glad to hear it.” You glanced around, quickly locating your clothes in a neat little stack. 

With a chuckle, Silco asked, “And what does that mean, pet? You think I would be a poor king?” 

“I don’t think Zaun needs a king.” You stopped short, startled at how natural that had felt to say. When had you started thinking of the Undercity as ‘Zaun’? Or was that true at all? It could have been a slip after hearing Silco say it so often. More importantly, when did you start thinking about what would be best for a potential country that didn’t yet exist - that might never exist?

Silco hummed understandingly. “And that is why I believe you could also be another leader for Zaun. You have shown a remarkable understanding for what she needs.” 

“I don’t agree with that,” you told him, dressing yourself with motions that felt stiff and unnatural. 

“Perhaps not,” he conceded, “but that doesn’t mean it is untrue. You care for Zaun - it is evident in how you care for her people at their most desperate. In our first session, you argued with a dangerous man to help a random addict living on the street. If I am not mistaken, you offered him your own lunch.” 

“Maybe I just knew I didn’t like you.” You tossed the insult out with bated breath, but Silco only smirked. 

“You had not yet seen me. You simply could not bear the idea of leaving someone homeless and helpless, at the mercy of the streets.” His smirk softened into something that was almost a smile. “Do not be offended, pet. It was a sign of your dedication to the people of Zaun, proven later when you made a deal with me on their behalf.” 

It wasn’t quite an accurate portrayal of events, but you didn’t want to argue with him. Not when he was implying that your meeting and eventual deal had been on purpose. Besides, you were fully dressed and had other places to be. 

Well, you didn’t, but you would find or invent them. 

“Speaking of our deal,” you redirected, “I’ll see you in two weeks.” 

“Of course, pet,” Silco agreed, inclining his head. “As always, I look forward to it.”

---

Author's Note - And we're back! Thank you all for your patience during my Fanfic February hiatus.

Good news: I reread this story from the beginning and was able to plot out the rest of it. I know myself well enough not to reveal my estimate of how many chapters are left because then I'll write dramatically too much and mess up my count. Suffice it to say that we still have plenty of story left, but I hope to post a chapter a month until it's over. No more hiatuses.

As always, I would adore your feedback. Thank you for reading and I'll see you next month!

#good intentions #good intentions fic #arcane netflix #arcane 2021 #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader #silco x you #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fic #lemon #spicy #not suitable for minors

[silcoitus]

Business Affairs

Rating: Explicit—Minors DNI

Silco x f!reader, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Light Dom/sub, Dom Silco, Dirty Talk, degradation kink, No Aftercare

Beta readers: none

Word count: 1.7k

Your and Silco's attention is otherwise occupied during a Chembaron assembly. He's quick to make your thoughts a reality.

Read on AO3

A/N: This all came about just because I wanted to use the dialogue line “Is this how we should conduct the next meeting? With me inside you?”

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @sirenofzaun @blissfulip @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

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[immortalbumblebee]

Chapter 16: Iron Shackles

Whoops! I forgot to post for a few months again...super long chapter this time, tho! Masterlist

As bright neon cast through your window and into your closed eyes, you couldn’t help but grumble. A truly rude awakening, only worsened as the early-winter cold seeped through your blankets and into your bones, your still-sleeping mind mourning the peaceful slumber you'd been experiencing just moments ago. But there was still hope; a nearby heat source, just to your side. You turned and curled into the warm body next to you, nuzzling your nose into the crook of the person’s neck. In response, a low growl is emitted from the body. “You’re cold…”

“And you’re nice and warm…” You ignored his complaints, tightening your arm around Vander as you cuddled in closer under your patchwork quilt. Your naked bodies seemed to meld together, you sapping his excess warmth in an attempt to fend off the creeping chill. However, as your mind continued to slowly wake up, you remembered that if the neon lights had found their way into your window, that meant it was nearing dusk, and dusk meant that Benzo and Silco would be home soon from work.

Just a couple of moments longer…

Vander’s breathing regulated once more, a low snore coming from his partially open lips, and you giggled a little to yourself at the sound. Feeling his chest rise and fall under you, your fingers began to run up and down his pectorals, combing through his chest hair as you blindly traced the area where you knew one of his tattoos (a hound skull) lay. Even though he needed a shower from your earlier activities, his natural pleasant scent of musk and smoke made you content. A reminder of him. As you placed a small kiss on his jawline, his arm instinctively tightened its hold around you. Damn this man.

After another selfish moment of indulging yourself with cuddles, you began to rouse your body. Your muscles ached as they were hit with the wave of cold, and your joints complained as you moved to stand. Stretching, you tried your best to ease the stiffness and aching feelings, and you thankfully got a couple of ‘pops’ from your joints, but much of the soreness remained. The thrills of adulthood, you supposed.

“Nice bum.” You could hear Vander’s smile even before looking back at him. He patted the spot next to him, the old grey sheets just as much patchwork as the quilt atop it. “You should bring it back here.”

Picking up what you knew to be his shirt, you handed it to him. “We need to get up. You need a shower and I need to start on dinner before Benzo and Silco get home.” You emphasize the guy’s names, hopefully reminding him why there was a certain need for urgency. But he just rolls onto his back, propping his arms under his head.

“You could always join me in the shower..? Save on water and all that, plus you get all this glorious body heat you love so much?” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes. To add insult to injury, you noticed the way he tensed his muscles, showing off the pure muscle that lay under that calloused, tanned skin. Emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders, the bulk of his biceps, his pectorals, his abs. The trick worked for a moment, feeling a familiar heat rise into your ears as your eyes remained trapped on his torso, tracing over every line and scar with detail. But as he began to flex his pecs, bouncing them one at a time, you shook your head in exasperation and began rifling through your drawers trying to find a clean pair of underwear and a semi-clean sports bra. Vander laughed loudly, filling the room with the warmness of his laughter.

“I can’t promise anything fancy for dinner tonight, but I figure we’ll get more food afterwards when we get post-fight drinks anyways.” You explain as you search, ignoring your lover’s immaturity. “Benzo’s got the bill tonight, it’s his turn.”

“Oi. Pretty, naked lady.”

Looking over your shoulder, you find Vander looking back at you. He still hasn’t put on his shirt, but he has crawled over to the other side of the bed so he’s now sitting closer to you, feet planted on your cluttered floor. He’s got an eyebrow raised, and your motions still as you fully turn to face him. His eyes don’t leave yours. “I love you.”

Damn this man, indeed. Damn him and the butterflies he sets free in your stomach.

Taking the single step it takes to get from your dresser to your bed, you sidle back up into Vander’s heat. He welcomes you happily, hands enveloping your waist and lightly pulling you into him. You cup either side of his jaw. This time his eyes do leave yours, taking just a fraction of a second to scan down your body. But they’re back up, holding your gaze before you can say anything. You lean down ever so slightly to take his lips into yours, and you feel his hands tighten around you. It’s a soft kiss, tender; just a simple close-mouthed kiss, but you try ever so hard to press all your feelings into it.

As you pull away, you press one more little peck to his lips. “I love you too.”

He seems content with this, grey eyes sparkling against the neon from outside. “I think some of your clothes are in one of the baskets in the hall.” Kissing him quickly one more time, you thank him before rushing out your door to rifle through the several baskets of forgotten and unfolded, but clean laundry. Amid your digging around, you come across two solid boxing gloves; black, patched in a few places but more evident was the distinct painting of a brown hound on each mitt.

“Oi, Van.” You peek back into your room to see Vander finally standing, stretching. You raise your hands, showing him the mitts and his face immediately breaks out into a toothy grin.

“There they are!!!” He exclaims, speed-walking over and taking the mitts into his own hands. He feels over the worn leather like he’s worshipping them, thumb tracing over the hound printing, matching his tattoo, as if he’s greeting an old friend. Those gloves had been a gift from Mikael on his eighteenth birthday when Vander’s father finally came around and approved of the fights as a way of making more money outside of the mines. “I’ve been looking for these for weeks! Thought someone had pinched them at the ring.”

“They could use some care.” You point to a new rip in one of the seams, your eyes carefully taking note of the gloves. You’d seen them a thousand times over the years, even watched him do repairs on them in the past. But for some reason, there and now, seeing them…your mind began to turn with ideas. “You know…you wouldn’t need to sew them nearly as much if they were metal. Could do some serious damage too, instead of padding your punches. Maybe some cast iron or titanium, y’know, something solid. Something to use in a real fight."

Vander’s eyes only look up for a moment, still intensely focused on the gloves in his hands as he begins to slide them on, stretching his fingers to see that they still fit as perfectly as ever. They do. “Metal’d hurt my hands more, wouldn’t it?”

Your mind is still in engineering mode before you finally turn your attention back to the basket of clothes.

You’ve barely been able to put on some clothes and start throwing together some food when the guys shamble into your shared home, feet heavy against the creaking hardwood floors but chatting casually amongst each other.

“We’re home!” Benzo calls, louder than he needs to.

“How was work?” You ask, barely looking up from the canned peas you were trying to open. They looked exhausted, both with dark circles weighing down their faces. Both had been working the mines today, so were already in fairly tattered clothes, but also displayed the new signs of a long day’s worth of hard work. A thick layer of grime, sweat, and coal dust coated their entire bodies.

Silco grumbled as he kicked off his boots, the thick rubber soles falling to the floor with a loud ‘thunk’. “Fucking awful, as per usual down in that shithole.” He continues on one of his normal tirades about the mines. The dirtbag supervisors, the shitty conditions, the kids sent there who are forced to work just as the three of them had. Benzo only hummed in agreement as he took off his own work shirt and sat at the dinner table, exhaustion evident in his face. But when a rasping cough left Benzo's chest, the sick sound of years' worth of smoke and chemicals exiting his lungs, there was a long pause. Cautious hesitation as the tell-tale miner's cough lingered like a bad omen in the apartment. But after a moment, the three friends resumed casually, trying to ignore the heavy feelings that seemed to consume all their hearts.

“When’s the next mine shift you’ve got, anyways Silco?” You ask, voice cracking ever so slightly. Benzo notices, and sends you a look but you can’t tell if it’s out of guilt, shame or apology.

“Day after tomorrow.” He shrugs, mind obviously only half-interested in the conversation as he shies away from the room. His eyes refuse to meet Benzo, who now only stares down at the wood grain of the table. “I’ve got a messenger shift in the morning, then I’ve got that job at the docks again.”

“Right…” You nod, just as absent-mindedly.

Just as you’re finishing up your concoction of stew, putting together anything in the pantry that would work, Vander stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped securely around his waist. Water droplets fall from his soft brown curls, rolling over his cheekbones before falling onto his broad, exposed chest.

“You two look like shit.” Vander’s booming voice laughed. “As per usual.”

“Yeah, laugh it up, big guy.” Silco rolled his eyes, reaching into their shared room to grab his own towel. “See how you look after your fight tonight.”

Benzo drudgingly reaches into his pocket, pulling out his notebook and flipping open to the most recent page. “Speaking of, I checked in today, the odds tonight are in Vander’s favour for his fight, but for Min's…”

“She’s fighting Sevika, who’s two weight classes above her. Not to mention she, like, never wins against her.” Silco noted. “So yeah, I can believe that the bets against her are, to say, not great.”

You feel a small wave of anxiety hit you. “Thanks for the vote of confidence…”

“That’s the point of the underdog, ain’t it?” Vander asks, crossing the apartment to slide in next to you just as you begin spooning bowls. He grabs a bowl from your hands, fingers lingering for just a millisecond longer than needed as they meet. “Coming out on top, despite the odds, and racking in that good money.”

The feeling that swelled up in your chest was nothing short of exhilarating. All but buzzing, and you couldn’t even try to hide the grin that began to break out onto your lips, even with Silco and Benzo around. Memories of your past, long nights of fights where Vander would reprimand you for taking risks and fighting above your class, all feeling just a little farther away now. Now fueled by new-found confidence, your shoulders squared as you quickly filled three other bowls. “It’s still important to side with caution, though.” You nod. “Fight smart, play to my strengths.”

“Atta girl.” He applauds, winking at you before walking away. In your excitement, you don’t notice the cold, bitter look in Silco’s eyes before he ducks into the bathroom but you do hear him shut the door harder than needed, the rusted hinge popping slightly at the force. His reaction catches Vander’s attention more than yours though, and his eyes still on the door for a moment. You set a bowl in front of Benzo, who had been all but ignorant of the conversation, looking over his notebook still.

“I’ve got word on a job top-side in two nights time, could be a decent payout.” He explained, rubbing his face tiredly. You take his book out of his hands, pocketing it as you hand him a spoon instead.

“Benz, you’re exhausted.” You explain. “Quit working for two seconds and eat dinner before we have to drag your ugly mug to see the doc, aye?” For a moment, he looks like he’s about to fight you on this, but he eventually sighs and nods, grabbing the spoon.

***

The chime of the bell is a shrill sound, screeching over the cheers from the audience. They all sounded faded to you as you raised your fists again, ignoring the pulsing pain emanating from your right ass cheek. The dreaded score floating around stubbornly in your mind.

Sevika: 1

Minerva: 0

Your eyes hardened on the woman in front of you, her smirk showing off her crooked teeth. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was tied in a loose ponytail with strands falling out to her face.

“It's no fun fighting you without your magic, Minerva!” She called out. “Like fighting half a woman.”

You huffed out an empty laugh, hopping up on the balls of your feet. “What can I say, you could use the handicap advantage.”

Her smirk deepens, and she steadies for a moment. Tell-tale sign. She pauses, crouches, then explodes; lunging herself at you with her left arm curling upwards in a scythe-like motion. You side-step her body, using the height difference to your advantage as you duck under her arm only to bounce back up on the other side. She stops short, heavier momentum making her slower as she whirls around back at you. Same move, a swing of her arm, you sidestep and duck. But she’s not dumb, she knows you’re evasive manouvers and her hand opens over you. Before you have time to react, she’s grabbed your face and is throwing you back into the ropes.

Crap.

You bounce off the rubber barriers, trying to steady yourself you turn on your heel. But the loss of balance throws off your normally very fluid motions. You're distracted. She sees this, it’s what she banks on, and she’s already lunging. This time, her punch lands, and next thing you know your already-crooked nose flashes with pain as it directly connects with her padded fists.

Ouch

You don’t quite lose balance but are just barely able to duck under her. She pulls back again, but you're able to slide under her and dodge to the other side of the ring. You can already feel the damage to your cartilage, the smarting only barely dulled by your adrenaline as the familiar coppery scent of blood fills your nose. You’re definitely going to have a black eye in the morning. Sevika uses the moment to right herself too, straightening her shoulders as she faces you again. You stare at her dead-on.

Think Minerva. What is her body language saying?

She swarms you again, using her size to trap you into the corner. But your fist goes up before she meets you, swinging up and connecting square with her jaw. It’s not a dead-on hit, but it’s enough to throw off her heavy-fighter attack and provides just enough time to swing out of her way, behind her so you land an elbow to her left kidney. She stumbles forward, and you speed back towards her as her back faces you. Grappling her shoulder, you manage to land a couple more hits before she steadies herself enough to shove you off. She throws you like you weigh next to nothing, but she’s been stunned so you manage to catch yourself and fall only a couple of feet away. You land, semi-steadily, on your knee as your hand slides back to catch your fall. A drop of blood falls from your nose and onto the ring below, the surface already covered in several layers of dried crimson.

One of Sevika’s knees gives out, probably from the jab to her kidney, and she needs to steady herself before she can do anything else. But once she’s facing you again, you’re pushing off on the ball of your foot and slamming your knee into the front of her face. There's a definite 'crack' from her nose, and you feel something shift under your knee just as she crumples down to the floor.

The ref is running in to separate the two of you, but you’re already backing off, letting him count. 1…2…3…She’s still down.

His whistle blows. The round is over.

Your point.

You’re howling in victory, fist up in the air as the audience reacts. Mostly in loud groans, unhappy patrons who bet against you. Their loss, you’re making fucking bank tonight.

Set aside from the groans are the cries of excitement, and you make out your boys’ faces in the back. Benzo and Vander are howling in cheers, as is Niya who’s got one of Benzo’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. Even Silco’s giving you a round of applause. Next to him, you spot Skye and Narco, with little Violet in her father’s arms. She's got a pair of fluffy earmuffs over her ears, poking out from the mop of bright pink hair. When you meet eyes with the young girl, she cheers louder, arms up in the air and the biggest, cutest smile on her face.

Oh yeah, you think, this fight is yours.

After a few minutes of rest time, the ref is calling for the next round and you immediately turn to face Sevika again. She’s already standing, tightening the wrist of her gloves with her teeth. She doesn’t look mad, or even disappointed. In fact, she’s smiling.

“Lucky shot, islander.” She barks to you. It’s tough talk, but you see the adrenaline in her eyes. You two have been sparring for years, two of the most well-known female fighters in the Underground's league despite being of completely different weight classes and specializations. She was just as loyal to the revolution as you were, had been to just as many rallies, and had even once started a small strike in the mines a couple of years ago; you were friends. She knew this was a victory for you, and she was proud of you. “Let’s see you try that again without dodging like a pussy this time, yeah?”

You wipe at your nose, smearing the partially dried blood onto your hand wrappings. “Depends, you going to stop fighting like a rhino and actually switch it up on me?”

She chuckles, but only for a moment. She lunges faster this time, which surprises you. But you’re too hyped up on adrenaline and courage from your win, you stay your ground and ball your fists. You try for another uppercut. Wrong choice. She latches onto your arm, grabbing ahold of it from under her and immediately throwing you to the ground.

Okay, not your smartest moment.

You try and scramble up, try and get the floor back under your feet, but she’s on you before you can. Straddling your chest, fists already coming down. She cracks your face, connecting to your cheekbone. Another, the other side, this time your jaw. Your mind is already getting a little dizzy, but you manage to buck your hips up, knocking her off balance just enough to squeeze your knees out from under her and tucking them into your chest. Balls of your feet to her chest, kick, push. It takes a couple tries, but she’s eventually knocked off you and you spring back, a little wobbly, onto your feet. Thankfully, it takes her longer to stand than it takes you, and you're able to deliver your kneecap swiftly to her nose. She dodges, making you hit her temple instead. Less effective, but still disorients her a little. But it also knocks you off balance, your mind still reeling from her last attack, and you have to stumble before you can right yourself properly. She stands back up.

“Very sloppy, ‘nerva!” She calls, still smirking but this time not out of kindness. “Here I thought you were the smart one.”

You brush off the insult, it’s mostly for show anyway, and plant your feet more firmly in place. Let’s try this again, shall we?

She’s too close to properly lunge at you, but her fist still comes down in that arching strike. You swing your arm out, momentum stopping her attack if just barely. She’s taller than you, but you’re still able to hook your arm around hers, pinning it to your side as you punch back up, this time your uppercut actually landing. She steps back, but your firm footing keeps you both right there. You hit her again, this time a hook to her eye, then another. Landing hits as fast as you can before elbowing her in the jaw and letting go of her arm. She stumbles back, suddenly falling victim to her own gravity and the force of your hit. She’s holding her jaw, which will likely bruise quite well. You look forward to poking that bruise later tonight at the bar.

“Better for you, Sev?” You chime over the screaming crowd. Your head is still ringing, and that tangy copper aroma is thick in your nose and mouth. But you’re still standing. You go to lunge at her this time, maybe even jump at her if you can get the leverage. But something’s wrong. Something changes in the air.

A familiar vibration, your magic picking up on a metallic thrum. Thick, deep, like a low bass note. It doesn’t belong here, it’s not like any of the metal vibrations you feel around the Underground. But you know that you’ve worked on it in the past, you know its inner workings. You’ve felt it move under your touch.

On the factory floor.

When you fight enforcers.

Their muskets.

It clicks in your mind. Exactly what Morichi’s factory produced, exactly what the metal you were working with was being used for.

And you could feel them around you. Like mosquitoes.

Your mouth is calling out before your mind is even aware your lips are moving.

“Enforcers!”

It’s too late. They’re already storming into the building, the doors of the arena slamming open. A small army of enforcers, fully armed, swarm into the space. Their guns are out, pointing around the once-cheering crowds. People begin to scream, many people running every which way towards various exits. Other people, including you, Sevika, and the guys are running up towards the guards. Vander’s already got one, slamming his bare fist into the guy’s metal mask hard enough that with a loud ‘thwunk’, the guy collapses. Similar to Sevika, who hops the ropes to slam her full bodyweight onto one enforcer in particular, grabbing another one to slam his head into the exterior wall of the ring. You’re about to hop down yourself when a flash of pink catches your eye, and you zero in on one enforcer in particular who has his gun pointed straight at Narco, who’s shielding his wife and daughter, bare-fisted and staring the officer down.

You don’t even think twice. Dashing toward them, hand out, you latch your magic onto that Enforcer’s gun and snatch it over to you. The moment it lands into your hands your over the ropes and down next to Narco, slamming the butt of the rifle straight into the Enforcer’s shoulder. Red fills the corners of your vision as you use your free hand to latch onto the guy’s chest plate, lifting him with ease and flinging him across the room like a ragdoll. You shove the gun into Narco’s empty hands, grabbing hold of another officer’s nearby, grabbing the firearm for yourself. You’re about to aim it when the air shatters like glass, a shot rings through the arena. Immediately, the entire space goes from pure mayhem to dead silent, enough to hear your own heart beating, thudding like it wanted to spring out of your chest.

The whole room freezes as Captain Grayson walks in through the busted door, pistol held high with a thin trail of smoke emitting out of the barrel.

You could drown in the silence of that room it was so heavy. The whole world seemed to stand still as all eyes fell on the female chief, not a single soul of the Underground even dared to breathe as she lowered her gun and holstered it. Then she spoke, her voice projected loud enough that it seemed to echo like the bullet from her gun.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Fissures,” She announces, “apologies for the interruption.” Her eyes are searching, scanning the crowds. Your eyes dart to your friends, Silco’s got a knife held up against the throat of the Enforcer he has pinned up against the stands, and Vander’s got one under each arm, and another under his boot. But Benzo’s openly holding his side as he stands at the receiving end of one of the damned metal barrels. You’re too busy focusing on them, and on that frequency that the metal guns give off, that you don’t even notice when Grayson’s eyes land on you. She points. 

“Her.”

One of the Enforcers behind you grabs your arm, making you drop the gun. Immediately, you fight back, landing your elbow to his helm. But it only knocks him back an inch. You turn and grab his chest plate like you had the other guy, but before you can throw him, one of his comrades manages to swat you, pushing you onto the floor, barely being able to catch yourself on your hands. You hear a couple of people shout out your name before you feel a heavy metal leg pressing down onto your back, pinning you to the ground. They move, straddling your body and catching your hands, pinning them uncomfortably behind you. You can’t move them. No hands, no magic. Shit.

“Let me g-!” You scream, but the person on top of you grabs your head and slams it into the hard concrete. The world gets a lot more dizzy.

“Minerva, you’re being arrested for the physical assault and attempted murder of Officer Grant Thompson-” “Who?!” You’re ignored, and you feel the cold metal of handcuffs being shackled onto your wrists. “You will be taken into police custody until an official preliminary decision is made by the council…” He goes on for a while, but your mind is spinning too quickly to listen to him clearly. Heavy boots walk towards you, and you’re barely able to strain your eyes up enough to see Grayson towering up over you. She hands something to the man on top of you, it looks like a roll of thick tape.

“Wrap her hands. She can’t be able to move them.”

The officer only pulls you up once your hands are completely mummified in the thick, sticky material. Even if your head was clear enough for you to focus on your magic, your hands were literally stuck together. Around you, everyone; Vander, Benzo, Silco, even Sevika, Narco, and Skye. All of them are held at gunpoint as they try and wrestle towards you. Violet’s crying out in loud sobs. Your eyes meet Vander’s, and you swear you’ve never seen his eyes so full of rage. You want to call out to him, but Grayson’s hands grab your jaw and force your head to face her.

“I promised you there would be consequences to your actions.”

You can’t think of what to say. Your head hurts too much. So you spit on her boots, a giant glob of saliva and blood. She stares down at it, apathetically, then waves her hand. The man tightly holding your cuffs pushes you towards the door. You try and fight back, stumbling up to him with a snarl, but he lands a firm right hook to your face, which sends you collapsing onto the ground. Distantly, you hear Vander’s voice call out to you again.

Too bad you couldn’t have dodged him like Sevika.

You’re forced to your feet again, and this time all but carried out the door. You can't move enough to fight back and aren't really even sure which direction you're heading. Everything is so woozy... As you descend into the darkness of the night, you hear Grayson’s voice address the crowds once more.

“Apologies again for the interruption. You all have a good night.

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane league of legends #vander arcane #vander x reader #Vander x OC #arcane vi #arcane silco #arcane vander #arcane benzo #arcane sevika #young silco #young benzo #young vander #oc fanfic #original character #reader insert

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hey! This is the Anon who requested the intimidating s/o a while back. I was wondering if you could do a part 2 with jinx’s s/o also being overprotective and tries to help her during her breakdowns. Like, s/o just death glares anyone who talks shit into shutting up, but always sticks by jinx during her meltdowns and gives her cuddles later? I understand if you don’t do this. Anyway, keep up the good work and Congrats on 200. You deserve it!

(Hi! Thank you for the compliment and thank you for returning and so sorry for the delay but her ya go! Enjoy!)

Jinx x Intimidating S/o

Oh.

Jinx freaking loves you so much

She will rile someone up and to the point they wanna attack her

She enjoys the fear in their eyes when they see you standing behind them with a glare satan would be scared of

She will just laugh and hug you and just be so smug as the one in front of her scurries away

Oh, Jinx loves it so much

And if you shut someone the hell up when they’re talking about her?

Her heart is full dude

She feels so happy that you love her enough to stand up for her

Jinx never had anyone to really do that for her except for Silco

So she will enjoy every second that it lasts

And she was pretty hesitant for when you would ever see an “episode” of hers if you call them

She never meant for it to happen when it did

She just started going and didn’t even remember

She just remembered being held by you, in your lap as she kept repeating over and over

“Don’t go. It was a mistake, I didn’t mean to. I wanted to help.”

Over and over like a broken record

She started off loud before they turned into whispers and sobs like a child

Also during it. She grabbed onto your arm so hard her nails cut you and you started bleeding

You didn’t even notice 

You stayed with her until she had tired herself out from crying so much 

She had fallen asleep and the next day saw the marks on you

She felt so bad

She avoided you for a while

Saying “She hurt you.” to herself, even when Mylo would attack her for it

She didn’t want to have to see you after she did that to you

She only started coming around when you came t her yourself

With a lot of reassurance, and slow progress, you helped her become the way she was with you once again

She just was a lot more careful if she hurt you

She also loves cuddling 100%

She is a very, very much affectionate person all around

She likes sitting with you and stealing your body warmth for herself

Don’t complain or she’ll do it even more

#jinx arcane x reader #jinx arcane #arcane jinx x reader #arcane jinx #jinx league of legends #jinx lol #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco arcane #arcane reader #arcane reader insert

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

POV: He looks at you during a terribly BOOORING meeting… [ click for better graphics ]

@popoisatan happy birthday

Have a Silco!

#Silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #reader insert #viewer insert #animation #silco league of legends #league of legends #league of legend art #league of legend

[insult-2-injury]

Rematch

Silco x Fem!Reader- NSFW! | MDNI

Warnings: Manhandling, Pretty rough sex, knives, BAMF reader, Fluffy at the End Though :)

I'm not sure what happened but I started this as a short project and then it turned into 5.8k words. I couldn't tell you what went wrong and this will happen again.

This fic was inspired by this amazing and sexy artwork by @wildragon

Link to artwork!

He’s found you.

You know it the second he prowls past the door of the frigid room you huddle inside, smoke trailing down the hallway from the tip of his cigar, the smell of it wrapping you in a taunting familiarity. He’s prolonging it, the search, pulling your nerves taut until you vibrate with a dreadful anticipation.

You wait.

He never misses. Never has. Never latches his bloodhound nose onto a scent and loses his way. He knows you’re in here, tucked back into the shadows.

But your senses are keen, too, and the cigar stench hasn’t faded quite so quickly as you would have wanted.

So, this was it, you think to yourself. The finale.

You know he’s out there, lying in wait. And he knows you know.

You rise, wincing when your knees crack from the prolonged position. No sound from outside, even to your finely tuned ears. Not so much as a breath, no fabric rustling from a position adjustment.  Light-footed, you creep your way forward, walking your fingers across the hilt of the knife in your belt, trailing them over the jagged embedded gemstones, worn from his touch and yours.

It was about time you give it back.

Your aim is precise, a sharp whistle puncturing the air from the sheer speed of the weapon as it crosses the doors threshold and embeds into the wall in the hallway, hilt wavering only slightly from impact.

You step to the side and let out a startled breath.

The dreadful fluorescent lighting in the hallway is terribly bright, but the reflection in the knife’s gleam is radiant.

Two eyes stare back at you through the blade, one orange, one a shocking familiar teal widening with something akin to surprise at the sight of his knife before settling into a predatory, furious state.

He’s blocking the entrance in an instant and you trot several steps back, stomach dropping as you prepare yourself for what’s to come.

He stands with his head bowed, slightly hunched, looking all the more like a starved lion, barely restrained from pouncing on his waiting supper.

Your gaze rips away from his scorching eyes and lands on his arms- burgundy striped sleeves rolled up his wiry forearms, one hand propped against the stone wall, the other hanging loose by his side, a shocking amount of blood dripping down from his elbow, down the knobs of his fingers and to the floor.

The cigar hanging loosely from his lips twitches as he gives you something adjacent to a sneer, although there’s little humor in it when paired with the fury outlining every other feature of his face.

“Silco.”

His face doesn’t change, but the hand on the wall clenches into a tight fist, dragging forward, a track of glistening red succeeding the movement.

He takes a step forward and you rear back, knowing how terrified you appear.

Another twitch of his lips, this one taunting, something wild kindling in his eyes as he takes you in, eyes flitting across your worried brows, your heaving chest as you try to quell your pounding heart.

Silco slowly presses into the room, wordless.

“Do- do you remember this place?” you stutter, stumbling your feet over the ratty gym mats littering the floor.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he expertly rolls his cigar over to one side of his mouth.

“You’ll find there’s little I don’t remember.”

His voice is grittier than before, cold and snakelike, and you’re reminded of the time that has elapsed since you’d last spoken.

Your gulp is loud in the stone room, echoing off the walls, providing soundtrack to your dance.

How long have you been playing this game now, half a year? Foiling plans, pulling strings from behind the scenes, going so far as to murder his people. You’d wanted him suffering, you’d wanted him angry, matching him move for move, and now it had culminated in this single moment, where you stand, toes curling over the edge of a dangerous precipice.

“Yes, I remember,” he hums. “What a fitting place you chose to die.”

“I don’t intend to die here.”

He lunges and you burst forward in a mad dash for the exit, but the world predictably spins, and stars splash across the borders of your vision as you’re thrust forward into the wall, one arm twisted behind your back painfully. Your other hand clings uselessly to his thigh, digging into the fabric there as you pant.

Smoke stings the inside of your nostrils and your cheek presses against the chilled stone as you stare wide-eyed at his hand crushing the cigar into the wall right before your nose. Your gaze dips as it falls abandoned to the ground and you gasp when the knife sinks into the wall instead with a sharp thud.

“I had my suspicions it was you from the very start. All your meddling. Making things difficult.” He hisses, pressing you painfully into the wall for emphasis. “Oh, you were always so good at being difficult, weren’t you? Forcing me to bloody my hands just to find you. I do hope you think you’re clever.”

“Please,” you whimper, as pathetic as you can muster. “Don’t hurt me.”

Silco’s tone is ragged, seething as he shoves his nose against your temple, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks each clipped word harshly into it.

“Cut. The. Act.”

You crane your neck but are unable to catch his eye. It’s near impossible to quit the incessant quake that has your muscles rattling against his, but the translation changes drastically as you allow your features to fall into the barely restrained fury just beneath the surface.

“Get off me.”

You attempt to slam your foot down on his insole, but there’s little space for it.

“There she is. Our little actress. Tell me, how’s Vander?” he purrs, a bitter self-satisfaction suffusing his tone. “Do you have him all wrapped around your finger now that I’m gone?”

Something bubbles up inside as you hurriedly turn to press your forehead against the wall, your chest heaving with ill-timed emotion.

Your hand is torn away from the fabric of his pants as he releases the arm behind your back, spins you around, and pins you against the wall again, his bony fingers latching onto your wrists now, blood smearing across the palms of your hands that now frame the space on either side of your head.

And he finds the remnants of laughter on your lips.

“You think I’m working with Vander? I knew you’d changed, Silco. But I didn’t think you’d be stupider.”

You not only hear but feel the rumble in his chest this time.

The vise that tightens painfully around your wrists speaks multitudes as you squirm.

“Careful now, darling,” his face tilts forward tauntingly, lips twitching into a cruel sneer, eyes brimming with lethal promise. “I am a changed man, after all.”

You study him with a daggered glare. Those painful scars you’ve seen only from afar until now. Janna, he used to be so expressive, in his own peculiar way- now so carefully withholding, impassive. But it didn’t take much searching to discern that dark edge clouding his features, steeping into that teal eye.

And that’s the color you remember, hovering above you, taunting, pinning you time and time again to these very gym mats during combat practice, you screeching and clawing like a mad cat beneath him.

All those times he’d bested you, humiliated you in front of the other Children of Zaun. But you’d keep coming back each day, a glutton for punishment, wanting to win so badly, recklessly throwing the first punch, spurred on by that smirk of his, sometimes even taking to the shadows, lying in wait for him to prowl past.

You’d never been one to make friends easily. Still weren’t. You weren’t an easy pill to swallow, but nor was he, and maybe that was what had him allowing your reckless assaults, what had him searching you out after a while, intent on putting you in your place. And oh, how he loved putting people in their place.

But you never stayed put. It wasn’t in your nature.

And that fact alone had pushed the two of you into something you couldn’t quite call a friendship- the tumultuous, spiteful waters too full of a strange tension to be defined as such.

Then he’d disappeared.

“I thought you were dead. For months,” you spit accusingly.

His eyes search yours for a drawn-out moment.

“Perhaps I did die.” He hungrily laps up your outrage as he trails one bloody hand down to your neck, encircling it lightly. “Perhaps you’ve done yourself a great disservice, drawing me into the open like this.”

“Easy really. You never did like a loose end.”

Your derisive laugh is cut off by a single warning squeeze to your throat and you close your eyes against the swell of heat that accompanies it.

You hedge your bets on Silco not killing you, not yet at least.

He is a changed man, yes, but the foundation he’s built upon is still the same. He is the same Silco who hungers for answers like a man perpetually starved- whose immovable, unrelenting nature calls to your own hurricane-like one.

There is still something there of the man you’d become so infatuated with.

At least you hope.

“And what were you hoping to achieve- running about, interfering, engaging in such senseless violence?” he croons.

You open your eyes, steadying yourself in order to dish out an outrageous eyeroll.

“They betrayed you anyhow, the ones I killed,” you say, sounding a little too proud of yourself, and not really answering his question at all. “Dropped you like a hot skillet as soon as money talk started. They would have offed you eventually. With the proper motivation.”

“Mm, out there doing me favors, then,” he mutters, looking unperturbed, thumb brushing lightly across your pulse, as if he isn’t surprised in the least that he has traitors among him. “Such a conniving thing.”

Your lips form a tight line, eyes falling shut again in frustration. He doesn’t get it.

“Look at me,” he commands, voice fatally soft, and you steadfastly disobey, scrunching your nose to emphasize just how little you were willing to relinquish. But your eyes pop wide open on instinct as soon as the hand wrapping a wet necklace around your throat squeezes and holds.

The slight upturn of Silco’s lips is minute, but primitive, nonetheless.

As much as common sense would have you clawing at your desperately contracting windpipe, you fist your free hand tightly in his shirt instead, trying to maintain a challenging glare even as your jaw drops open with unsuccessful breaths.

Even as something ancient and unbidden coils hotly in your abdomen.

“Be that as it may, you’ve pushed me far past the boundaries of my extensive patience.”

He releases abruptly and you reel forward as you greedily heave in oxygen, coughing and sputtering, the crown of your head pressing into his sternum as he allows you to catch your breath.

And as the shooting stars recede from your periphery, you tilt your head up and sneer.

“Good.”

You despise the dark amusement on his face.

“Should’ve just let them kill you,” you spit, reddening face inches from his, wanting, no needing a reaction.

And Silco’s face is unreadable.

“So, that’s why you’re here then? To kill me?” Two hands prop themselves beside your ears as he leans in. “Oh, you’re so close, keep trying.”

“I’m not here to kill you.”

You make as if to close the distance, nose stopping inches from his, a savage smile playing about your lips.

“But I will get what I came here for.”

A single exhale betrays him and the stone next to your head scrapes as his nails subtly dig in. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his gaze flits to your mouth.

“And what would that be?”

“I want a fucking rematch.”

You use the hand fisted in his shirt to propel the other into the unsuspecting softness of his chest.

With a startled grunt, he stumbles backward a half step, eyes narrowing as in one move, you yank the dagger from the wall and narrowly duck to avoid his outstretched arm, crossing to the other side of the room.

After a long, nerve-wracking beat, Silco turns to you, an almost dizzying energy radiating off him as he levels you with a look that contains the same unrestrained fire he prowled in with.

“With my own dagger? Oh, I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

His hawklike gaze catches the cold shudder that walks down your spine before his eyes catch yours again, something dangerously excited igniting there.

All those times he’d bested you, pinned you right here on these mats, his half-hard length pressing into the space between your legs, eyes wild as you utilized anger to shrink from your desire- to run away.

He’s frustrated. And furious, so furious. But you’re sure, absolutely sure now, that he’s taking just as twisted of a delight in this as you are. It has you setting your jaw, twirling the blade tauntingly across your palm.

Your eyes fall to his bloodied hands, staining a dark crimson as they dry.

“To be fair, I did try to give it back.”

“Oh, there’s nothing fair about you.”

His own blade materializes seemingly out of thin air, hilt tossed about in his palm, black and orange in color.

How fitting.

He waits for you to lunge, and you do with a centering growl, keeping low, arm swinging in a sideways arc just as his does, forcing you to switch up, instead sliding into his booted feet as if sweeping in for a home run. He stumbles and you barely manage to regain your balance before darting out of the way of his blade.

“Still overeager, I see,” Silco pants, eyes tracking your form, circling you like a vulture, voice pitching strangely.

“Still a beanpole, I see,” you retort, flying at him again, as if determined to prove his point.

And you begin a vicious dance, meeting in the middle again and again. You leap out of the way of his attacks, clever and dexterous, using practiced history to anticipate his movements.

“I do, by the way” you say, managing to catch him off guard with a brutal kick to the stomach, “Think I’m clever.”

Silco hisses, but latches onto your ankle, yanking you forward.

“Do you?” he grits.

You spin mid-air, yelping as your full body weight smacks the mat, and you succeed in donkey kicking him away.

“I do,” you sputter, leaping back to your feet. “I mean Janna, how long have you been letting me run circles around you?”

Something dark and merciless casts a shadow over both orange and teal, his pupils dilating as his tongue presses into his teeth in calculation. His gaze trails unhurriedly down your body, as if capturing this moment of hubris, memorizing it.

And he exhales a soft grunt, focus narrowing back on the widening of your eyes as he cocks his head and this time, he’s the first to lunge.

You defend, spring back time and time again, blocking each of his relentless jabs, desperation pushing you to swing at him hard but he surprises you, a fist enclosing your wrist to jar you, pull you off kilter.

You twirl, side-step to correct, switch the knife to your other hand just in time to have it end up trapped between his arm and your side as he yanks you into his chest, arm encircling your mid-back.

Your bewildered gaze takes a moment to adjust to your new position- his knife poised delicately against your throat, face hovering directly over yours.

“Long enough,” he answers in a tattered voice, and your eyes flutter as his breath tickles the sweat-dampened hairs on your forehead.

The two of you are flushed, panting, and with the way he fastens you against him, your lower abdomen flush against an unmistakable hardness, his knife driving your upper body backward, you have to arch uncomfortably into him just to maintain eye contact.

In his gaze there is a hunger that shocks, overwhelms you in its intensity.

“Do you work for anyone?” he asks.

You try to make your weapon anything but useless at your side, wrenching your wrist, grazing the side of his thigh.

“I can still make it hurt,” you snarl, eyes pinning his with a cold glare as you try and muster something up out of that ever-flowing well of anger in your chest.

You use your free hand to attempt to grate your nails across any visible skin, because however self-assured he looks, the fight isn’t over.

Silco’s response is to lower his center hold to wrap around your waist, forcing you to grip tightly to the fabric of his shoulder just to keep from falling back.

His searing look demands an answer.

“Here and there-”

The knife digs in lightly.

“No,” you choke. “I don’t have a job.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t kn-“

The knife drives you further back and you let out a tight, teeth-gritting squawk of frustration, the discomfort of craning your neck enough that you finally drop your head back, relaxing into his firm grip, the two of you standing in an awkward, uncomfortable mimicry of a ballroom dip.

“Because I’m- I was too busy trying to figure out what the fuck happened to you.” The words are cast from your mouth and into the open air like tiny, poisonous arrows. “I knew you wouldn’t have just up and left like they said. I searched everywhere- ate, slept, and breathed you, only to find out you were still alive…”

Pause.

“And you decided to make my life harder for it?”

Your cackling laugh sounds deranged from your position.

“Among other things. You deserved every-”

You choke on a gasp as Silco rolls his hips methodically slow, the ridge of his cock catching your clit and drawing his impressive length upward, wrenching an embarrassing, high-pitched moan from your throat as your fingers dig into his shirt.

This isn’t how it-

The knife in your hand clatters to the floor as he rolls against you again, rendering you speechless.

“Maddening. You are maddening.” His tone is so low, so ragged, it must be born from the deepest, most primal part of him. “You know, I used to spend hours concocting ways to get you to shut up.”

He abandons his own knife, sheathing it at his side, splaying his hands to drag up your spine, until one long-fingered hand clasps around the back of your neck.

You stare dazedly as he lifts you, blinking half-lidded as you drink them in, those carefully impassive features that you think you can see right through. You press your face gently into his neck, teasing along the hinge of his jaw, and you hate how well you fit, the way his knife-bladed nose buries perfectly into your hair, the gentleness contrasting his next clipped words.

“Shoving my cock down your throat to silence your incessant screeching. Fucking you back into those shadows where you thought you hid so well. Suffo-“

Silco’s words stutter into the crown of your head as you lick a long, salty stripe across his pulse point and his hand draws up to fist in your hair, pulling back so he can look at you.

“Suffocating you until those pretty eyes rolled back.”

Your hands fall to his hips to run down his sides, up again to pull him flush against you. His free hand follows suit, kneading into your ass as he hunches over you just slightly in order to track his middle and index down, applying a perfect, dragging pressure once, twice over the crotch of your pants before trailing back up to cup your soft flesh.

“Always such an angry thing,” he says almost reverently as you try and fail to stifle a whine, “Now look at you. So soft.”

Silco, one hand still kneading into your hair, steps back to make room for the other as it travels down your front.

It’s not practiced fear nor rage that you tremble from this time, it’s raw desire that has you shaking like a leaf as he slides his palm between your pants and underwear.

It’s been so long, you realize, since you’ve been touched, even held, that at the first swipe of his fingers across your clit, you cry out, wobbling, eyes screwing shut at the explosive sensation.

“I think,” he croons down at you, and his voice is so deceptively soft as he works you, “What you needed all along was for someone to just touch you.”

You can’t lose sight, won’t lose sight.

Even as he leans down to your ear.

“For me to touch you, hm?”

He drags tight circles around your aching bud and your knuckles crack as your hand unfists his shirt, smoothing down the rough material of his vest.

You nearly sob as the pressure builds sharply, and it’s almost humiliating how fast he’s able to bring you to that precipice.

“Pl-ease,” you pant, tilting your head up, moaning through your teeth. “I’m g-onna-”

His mouth is so close to yours, breath uneven, labored as he quickens his pace, his wild eyes mapping the pleasure as it tracks across your face.

“You can cum, darling.”

Your eyes flutter closed, and everything gets tighter, and tighter.

“I w-“ Seconds away, you’re seconds away from that cliff. “I w-“

The hand in your hair finds its way to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“I win.“

And just as you cross the point of no return, you clumsily press the pointed end of his dagger into his upper back just enough that he’s able to identify it before tossing it to the side to clatter to the floor.

He could have killed you. But he didn’t. You could have killed him. But you didn’t.

The shock, the black that blows out the teal of his eye at the realization is enough to push you over the edge and you’re sinking your nails into his arm, clawing red, angry trails across his skin in desperation as your back bows and your knees buckle.

The punishing grip in your hair only heightens the domino effect and to Silco’s credit, he doesn’t stop working you, lowering you slowly to the ground as you writhe against him, a long, high-pitched whine freeing itself from your throat.

Light explodes behind your eyelids and you fall forward, curling in on yourself as your pussy clenches around nothing.

You blink stars out of your eyes as you peer down.

Silco is on his knees and you straddle his lap, his hard length nestled between the apex of your thighs. Through the dull ringing in your ears, you hear his sputtering.

And you hardly realize that your forehead presses against his until you’re jarred aggressively, two hands sliding up your sides to rid you of your shirt, your bra, tossing them furiously to the side.

He’s spitting acid.

“I should have killed you. The moment I discovered it was you.”

He grabs the back of your head, pulls you into a violent kiss, and a tidal wave of sensation has the world crashing back in and before you know it, your hands are eagerly twisted into the textured strands of his hair, hips grinding into his.

A familiar rumble of anger rocks through his chest and he yanks your hair back, runs one hand down your collarbone to cup one breast roughly.

“Desperate for more, already?” You squeal when he twists your nipple hard. “Do you really think after that little display you deserve anything I have to offer?”

“I think I deserve something.”

One of your hands falls to the strain in his pants and you run your palm along it, deriving a sick satisfaction from the way his abdomen tightens, his teeth grind.

He tilts forward, mouth enveloping one of your pebbling nipples and your gasp ratchets into a vulgar moan as his tongue flutters around the stiff peak, the sensation arcing its way directly between your legs, the heat too much. Too fast.

The hand not fondling him caresses the back of his head, unsure whether to pull him in or push him away as his teeth graze the sensitive skin and he sucks, pulling out of you a keening cry.

He moves to the other breast, lavishing it with similar attentions like a man starved, nipping sharply when you grow selfish, when your hand stops working at him.

You need him. You need more.

“Please.”

“Hm?”

“Please,” you snip impatiently, “You want me to beg, right? Isn’t that your thing?”

Silco releases your hair and you spring forward, nipping lightly at his bottom lip, working on his pants.

“I’m quite aware of your neediness already.”

“Asshole.”

He snatches your jaw in an iron grip and you maintain his fiery gaze with a determined glare as you thumb the complex buttons of his pants. Something oddly soft irons out the crease between his brow before you’ve take him into your palm much faster than anticipated, and he releases a shattered growl.

The speed at which he strikes you down is astonishing and you blink twice, confused, at your sudden view of the ceiling. Silco looms in your lower periphery, his adept hands making quick work of your pants, yanking them off, tossing them to the side. Your eye draws to the twitching length lying solid, inviting against his inner thigh and he meets your hungry gaze with one of his own.

You sit up, intent to pounce.

“Lay back down,” he commands harshly, and you ignore, sitting back on your haunches.

“No.”

Silco lurches forward as you spider back but he’s faster, and you let out an indignant screech as he snatches your ankles, yanking you toward him, your skin making an outrageous noise as it squeaks across the leather mat.

“If you want to make things difficult,” he growls, length grazing your thigh as he immobilizes your squirming form, folding your knees outward, spreading you lewdly to observe the glistening wetness between your legs. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“I’m more than happy to oblige,” you mock in a comically low voice and he smacks your thigh hard. You wriggle to try and aim a pathetic kick at his chest and with barely curbed aggravation he drags himself between your legs, propping himself over you.

Silco slides himself across your slick folds, catching at your entrance. Your body betrays you as you release a strangled moan. His arms quake just slightly, head dropping with a shuddered breath at the feel of your soaking heat, strands of his hair falling out of his careful style to tickle your neck.

He bounces back quicker than you do, grasping himself, dragging the swollen head of his cock torturously up and down your slit, studying you callously as you writhe beneath, punishment for your cheekiness.

“Fucker,” you spit and his lips twitch almost fondly. He drops his head to your sweat damp neck.

“I’ve been nice thus far,” he croons into the juncture of your jaw. “Can’t you try? To be nice?”

“I swear to Janna, put me on top if you can’t do this right. I’ve waited years for this, and it’s going to be done my way.”

“Unfortunately, that’s no longer in the cards after you held a knife to my back.”

“Served you right!” you yell.

He murmurs a quiet “Careful,” into your ear before he removes himself from your neck, sitting back on his haunches, positioning himself.

“I think you just want something to be upset about.”

“I do-oh“

Your lips freeze in an ‘oh’ as his hips begin a slow inch forward and you’re both made speechless. He pauses, and you don’t know whether it’s for you or him, his teal eye shutting tightly as if to anchor himself.

Silco is solid and so achingly hard inside you, and he stretches you painfully. But it’s exquisite. And he’s too slow, trying to savor it, you think, the moment. But he’s not answering your whining pleas and you’re squirming to grab his attention. Impatient.

Your legs wrap around his thighs, and you cross your ankles. You smile devilishly with the satisfaction of watching his eye shoot back open in realization before you thrust him the rest of the way inside.

His mouth falls open as a jagged, echoing groan is punched out of him, his fingers digging excruciatingly hard into the muscles of your inner thigh as his hips are pressed flush with yours.

You cry out at the sudden fullness, clawing uselessly at the mat. Oh, it’s excruciating. Wonderfully so. And you want him- no, need him to do something besides clutch into your skin, tower over you as if deciding which part of you to stab into first. And in a bid for a reaction out of the man, you clench around him, hard.

He hisses through his teeth.

“M-move.”

“Oh,” Silco breathes, his voice full of deadly promise, chest heaving with unbridled fury, only fueled by the wild lust eclipsing both eyes. “You make me mad.”

Fingers dig further into your thigh as he violently spreads your legs apart, crawling forward until his face is right above your panting one, shoulders pressing you into a curled position, knees spread impossibly wide.

Breathing is suddenly no longer a course of action as, without warning, his palm clamps down on your throat and squeezes, rendering you completely prone beneath him as you have no choice but to take it as he fucks into you mercilessly.

Deep, quick-fire thrusts nail hidden spots inside you that have mini fireworks exploding behind your eyelids.

Your chest burns and your body doesn’t know what sensation to focus on, what reality to latch onto, mind going completely and blissfully haywire as neurons seem to fire haphazardly. You grasp onto his arm like a lifeline, pleasure recycling over and over again as you convulse beneath him.

“You make me furious.”

There’s a rumbling, a purr, emitting from low in his chest, vibrating into your own, like a growling predator just emerged from its den. It feeds you, challenges you.

You fight to maintain the angry eye contact as you’re jostled, and he lets up, allowing you a few choked breaths before grasping your throat again.

He wrenches your head to the side, and his breath is a hot pant against your ear as he seethes, each syllable accompanied by the sound of his hips meetings yours in an obscene slap.

“Incorrigible. Never learned to behave. So rude. So impatient.”

The beginnings of another orgasm tingle across your sweat soaked skin as a rubber band stretches across your lower belly. Your hands latch onto his where they clasp around your throat, tightening his hold there.

Silco groans at the gesture, and suddenly he’s everywhere, heated words whispering into your neck, your cheekbones, your temple.

“You love it, don’t you? Me shutting you up like this. Should’ve done this ages ago. Given you the attention you so desperately begged for. With all your silly little tantrums.”

You don’t hear the rest.

It’s less of a crackling explosion, this one, more of a gentle, rolling thunderstorm as that band snaps. Except you’re completely fixed, held down entirely by Silco- can’t arch your back, can’t stretch your legs, you can’t even cry out- just have to lie there and take what he’s given you, a wild pressure renting out every hollow in your trembling body until he offers you an outlet by releasing your throat, a throaty wail resonating obscenely across the stone walls.

You suck in air, cough it back out, can hardly get a grip on yourself as pleasure ripples back and forth like you’re being steamrolled by it.

And you hardly know where you are, eyes squeezed shut, tiny whimpers accompanying every exhale, your thighs quivering uncontrollably, Silco still inside you, still impossibly hard, although not moving. You can sense he’s propped above you, can feel his eyes as they dart across your trembling features, watching as you work through the terribly powerful bliss.

And then all is still.

You crack open your eyes, fix them on the ceiling, blinking languidly, studying and counting the criss-crossing wooden slats like you’d just awoken from a deep slumber.

A calloused hand slides its way under the back of your neck, another wraps your mid-back and you allow yourself to be pulled up and into Silco lap, your arms wrapping the back of his neck automatically, nose burying itself in his neck.

It’s a complete contradiction, the way he rocks up into you now, slowly, like you’re something to be savored. And you ram your forehead into his shoulder, biting into the fabric of his vest as you try not to jolt with each wet slide of him inside your sensitive walls.

You keep your eyes closed for a moment just to listen to his soft grunts as he wrecks you again with gentle but thorough thrusts, each movement pushing a small, unrestrained whine from your lips as he fills you perfectly.

Silco puffs a laugh and you realize dazedly you’ve been muttering out loud.

“Perfect,” you rasp again, unashamed.

He tugs you backward and you surrender your position on his shoulder with a whine that he swallows, pressing his lips to yours and forging ahead with his expert tongue when you gasp at the newness of it, the tenderness.

He reaches a hand down between your bodies and you shake your head, lips breaking from his.

“I ca-I can’t. Too sensitive.”

“Shhh,” he croons gently before his thumb finds your aching bud.

You jump at the electric arc of sensation, yelp as his other hand grabs a hold of your hip, holding you steady as he increases his pace, beginning to chase his own release.

He’s already close, he has to be.

 Silco swallows every tattered moan, every soft squeal that he pulls out of you with the expert roll of his thumb.

Your body writhes, contorts as he fucks up into you.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you murmur, almost panicking against his mouth and you can feel the smirking stretch of his lips.

And it slams into you again, a third orgasm rising so sharply you feel like you’ve just flown off the edge of a cliff with no ground in sight. You let out a long, anguished whine into his mouth and you’re clawing at him as one set of fingers continue to work you through it, the others threading your hair to better inhale your cries.

Your arms can hardly summon the energy to hold yourself upright, and you just slump onto his shoulder, spasming around him, drenching his cock as you cry out his name in a torn voice that draws his own release forth, pulsing in tandem as his hips stutter, spilling his load into you with a ragged groan.

Your fingers find his hair, shakily brushing through the soft strands, and you try to quell the aching emotion in your chest that has tears springing to your eyes, has you pressing yourself further into his shoulder to hide.

“I missed you,” you say. It’s all you can say, really.

A hand draws hesitantly down your spine, kneading each vertebrae, as if to ensure you were still there. Real.

“You’re not the only one,” he murmurs, and there's a long pause before he turns, dropping his chin gently to the top of your head, “Whose been waiting.”

<3 <3 <3

Hi, I hope you enjoyed! Sorry I was a day late with this one. It's 3am and my only hope at this point is that this story makes a modicum of sense. Thank you for reading, I love you all! Here's the AO3 Link if you'd rather read on there!

Stay unhinged!

Love, Sulty <3

@of-the-argonath

#silco #silco x reader #silco x you #silco arcane #arcane #reader insert #silco fic #sulty writes