#silco x female reader

[linesfromzaun]

Palms (Silco x Gen!Reader)

Rating: G

Tags: fluff, INNOCENT HAND COMPARING (u nasties 😤), cuddling, Smoking Silco, playing with Silco’s hands :’0)

A/N: I overworked myself today at work and needed some Silco fluff. Shout out to @purpurniymstitel for her post here, I haven’t stopped thinking about this because I need him spiritually, carnally, and physically, I am depraved 😔💔

“Darling, I’ve noticed something quite interesting,” Silco exhales the cigar smoke as he talks. You both are relaxing on the red sofa in his office, he sits upright, slightly reclined. You’re draped across his lap, looking up into the decorated rafters.

“And what’s that, hm?” You give an amused smile to match the tone of your voice. Silco holds his free hand up, fingers pointing to the ceiling.

“Place your hand against mine.” You feel a schoolgirl blush creep across your cheeks. You’ve known Silco for a while now, yet you’ve only recently become an item. You place your palm against his, and he lines his fingers up with yours. “I’ve noticed your hands are alarmingly small.”

“Alarmingly? What, like a bad thing?” You giggle as he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Not a bad thing, however I think it would be rather difficult to live with such small hands. How do you wield a dagger?” You huff in feigned annoyance and lace your fingers around his.

“Same as you, have you ever thought about the fact that you might just have really large hands? Your hands are double the size of mine.” You pull the hand that hold yours closer, and begin moving around his fingers lightly.

“Perhaps you just have very tiny hands. It seems to me my hands would be normal size for a man my height.” You give a sarcastic “mhm” and his laughter rumbles in his chest. You continue playing with his hand. Seeing how far they naturally spread out, placing his fingers in different positions. You try to sneak what it would look like if Silco gave the bird and his fingers stiffen. “Are you seriously trying to get me to flip someone off?”

“Just yourself.” You laugh at his blank expression and kiss his knuckles. He holds your fingers in the palm of his hand, swiping his thumb across the little knuckles. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” His thumb caresses your skin once more. His lips lifting into a gentle smile.

“I should buy you a ring, your hands are very adorable.” Oh, he made you melt. He always had the sweetest things to say about you in the safety of privacy. “I’m thinking gold, a little blue or red gem. Simple, but with a statement.”

“Already trying to claim me as yours, I see.” Silco chuckles and his lips press against the skin of your fingers.

“Can’t have anyone getting ideas about you, now can I?” You laugh as he snubs out his cigar in the ash tray, and his now freed arm pulls you into him.

“I suppose not, oh how you woo me, Eye of Zaun.” A kiss on your lips has you humming, the taste of spiced tobacco has you dizzy in love.

“It’s a natural talent, something I pride myself in. Especially since I have you to call mine.” You’re pulled to rest against his chest, and he joins you in lying down on the couch. You both sigh as he pulls the blanket over you both. His hand previously holding yours cards in your hair, the other rubs soothingly along your back.

“I wish we could stay like this forever, just block out the world. Have it just be us and Jinx.” A chaste kiss is pressed to your temple and his nose rests against your skin, feeling his breath breeze against you.

“Me too, my dove, me too.”

[angelltheninth]

Divine Desire

Pairing: Silco x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjobs, dirty talk, office sex, chair sex, Shimmer use, dominant Silco

Word count: 1.5k

Ao3

A/N: Time for Silco smut!

As soon as you entered Silco's office you took a look around and above, scanning the room for Jinx. As grown up as she might be you really don't want to expose her to anything you're planning on doing with her dad right now. Once you confirmed that the coast was clear you clicked the door and locked it behind you.

Silco, sitting back in his chair, with a cigar in one hand and a paper in the other craned his head, looked at you from the corner of the paper and arched an eyebrow in mild confusion, "May I help you darling?"

You grinned, walking towards him with a deliberate sway of your hips, "Depends."

A small smile pulled on the corner of his lips, "On what?"

"On how much time you've got." You leaned down, your lip inches from his and pushed on his chest to make room for yourself between him and his desk.

"For you? All the time you want." He lets the papers fall on the desk, reaching down to pet your head as he takes a drag of his cigar before putting it out, "What prompted this? Did I leave you unsatisfied this morning?"

"Not at all. You did such a good job with me that you left me no time to take care of you." You remembered the way he dismissed your offer when he realized what time it was. It was only natural that you wanted to return the favor, "What kind of future wife would I be if I didn't give you everything that you give to me?" You pushed your knee onto the chair and between Silco's legs, against his groin.

He hissed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I can see why you'd think so, but you already gave me more than I could ask for. You don't need to-" His next words became a strained moan as he watched you get down on your knees and start to unbuckle his belt.

"I don't need to. I want to. Don't you?" You could see by the lust expressed in his eyes, and the subtle but definitely there throbbing of his dick when you palmed at it through his underwear, that he more than wanted it. "How do you want me then? Tell me." You offered yourself to him fully, ready to do whatever he asked. It felt nice, to be able to let go when you're usually trying to rein in the patrons of the Last Drop.

"You can start by putting that mouth to a good use." The shift in his tone and expression was almost chilling, it would be if you didn't know him so well. From warmth and comfort to cold, hard and commanding. "After all, I'd be very rude for me to refuse when you went out of your way to do this for me."

You smile up at him, your eyes half hooded and dark as you take his cock out, wrapping your hand around the base and pumping upwards slowly, gradually getting him to full hardness while never breaking eye contact with him. His hands grip the hand rests when you lick along the length, coming up the tip and giving it a small, brief suck.

You kept your tongue on his cock, alternating between licking and flicking at the tip. Silco groaned, his hand guiding your head further down, not all the way but enough for a good part of his length to be enveloped in wet warmth of your mouth.

With your hand you worked him up and down while keeping most of your attention on the cockhead, licking up any pre that made it's way onto your tongue.

Even though it was a little awkward with just one hand you managed to unbutton your pants and slip your hand into your panties. It didn't leave you much room to move but it was more than enough to get you worked up, to get you ready for him.

"You say you're doing this for me, but you want it just as much don't you?" You hummed in agreement, slowly bobbing your head, making sure to suck hard on the tip whenever you pulled up. "Well I certainly appreciate the honesty darling. Just for that I'll give you my cum in two holes." Just him saying that made more of his cum flow, smearing on your tongue, "Lean your head back and keep your mouth open."

With a tiny noise of complaint you pulled away, licking the tip one more time for good measure. His eyes found yours, a hand joining yours as you jerked him off until his climax sent white hot cum across your tongue and face. You opened and closes your mouth for a second to lick it up but more kept coming.

"I can never get enough of seeing covered in my cum. You wear it so beautifully." His thumb pressed against the corner of your lips, wiping the cum and pushing it inside your mouth. You latched into his finger immediately, sucking hard and fast, bobbing your head faster than when you sucked his dick.

"I can wear it in other places too." Just showed him your slick fingers. Silco smirked and leaned in, mimicking you, suck your fingers free of your cum, spreading your fingers in a V shape with his tongue and licking in between them.

"You can indeed. Why don't we see how well." He pulls you up, tugging your shirt upwards to press little, almost ticklish kisses across your stomach while his hands pull your pants and panties down, thumbs and fingers pressing into your hips and easing you into his lap. His mouth goes upwards to your neck, your cheek, your mouth. "Shimmer?" He offers as he reaches for a vile of glowing purple liquid stashed away in the stacks of paper and books littering his desk.

You looked at the vile and placed it between the two of you, "We can share." Silco chuckled. Of course, he loved sharing with you, especially when you told him your preferred method of doing so.

While he fidgeted with the cap in the vile you eased yourself on his dick, sighing from the pleasant stretch of your cunt, bending your knees around his sides. He was just about to take a sip when you bottomed out on him, "Don't make me drop this all over my shoes or I'll make you lick it off."

"Doesn't sound bad to me." As a show of that you rolled your hips right as he tried to drink the Shimmer again. You could barely stifle a laugh when he sighed, "It's fun to mess with you sometimes, I can't help myself." You shrugged and this time held totally still, even as Silco kept glancing over at you while he leaned his head back and emptied the vile into his mouth.

The vile was dropped after that, clanking onto the floor as he cupped your face and brought you in for a kiss. Greedily you drank the Shimmer he shared with you, feeling it coursing through your body like fire and thunder. You held onto each other as you felt the inevitable hit shake you to your cores, with Silco drilling his hips into yours to dull the pain.

Your head spun as he gripped your ass tight, further driving you downwards to slam onto his cock. You held onto his shoulders, shaking with both pleasure from him ramming himself inside you at increasingly rapid speed and from the dull but still persistence ache of the Shimmer running through you.

"Very good sweetheart, you're doing so good. Just a little more, I want to feel you, fuck, hold on to me." Silco grunted and heaved you both forward, pushing you on your back on his desk, filling the room with sounds of your combined moans. With one last thrust he went still, then rigid on top of you as he let his cum flow into your cunt, filling you up. Your own climax came only moments after, crashing and blending in with Silco's.

"Shit. Should have thought this through. I don't think I can pull out right now." All of his unread papers were right under you. "Fuck."

You cupped his face and laughed at the frown forming on his face, "Never a dull moment with you is there?"

"I certainly hope not." He leaned back in a gave you a slew of little kisses on your neck, jaw, all the way up to your forehead where his lips lingered., "I think I needed this to clear my head." Well with everything seemingly going wrong out of nowhere all of a sudden you're really not surprised.

A minute goes by in silence, with the two of you exchanging soft touches, looks and kisses.

"Are you two done being gross in there?!" Jinx's voiced pierced through the bubble of comfort you've built like a knife, "Seriously I need my blueprints!"

You sighed while Silco only laughed, "Your daughter is an odd one."

"She'll be your daughter too someday soon. Better get used to it. Now let's make ourselves presentable before she decides to blast through the door. Again." No one ever said that marrying Silco wouldn't come with it's own kind of craziness, but that only reaffirmed what you already knew. Never a dull moment with that man.

[cursedwoman1859]

Careful What You Wish For (Silco/F!Reader/Finn)

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 4.7k

Content: Threesome (MFM); oral sex (M recieving); PiV, light D/s; rough sex; humiliation; genital piercings. No beta we die like finns dignity

Summary: Finn steps out of line at a meeting and Silco enlists your help in reminding him of his place.

AO3 Link

-

Chem baron assemblies weren’t the worst part of your job as Silco’s assistant, but they were up there.

It should have been fascinating, getting to sit in on Zaun’s equivalent of the council meetings. Every person in the room with you controlled their own little slice of the Undercity with an iron fist – whether that meant the chem trade, body mods, brothels, or webs of spies and informants who could find out anything about anybody for the right price. But more often than not, meetings devolved into petty squabbling over territory and who owed what to whom – and you had to sit there and take minutes through all of it.

Your only consolation was that Silco made it clear he hated these meetings as much as you did.

Today’s assembly had dragged on longer than usual, and you were relieved to be packing up at last. You just had to finish the notes you were making, and then you’d be free. A few of the chem barons had already left, though Silco was still hashing out the details of a Shimmer production deal with Renni. Sevika was leaning against the door by the elevator, looking bored out of her mind, and you were about to go over to her when a shadow fell across your notebook.

“I haven’t noticed you here before,” a familiar voice said, and you looked up with your brows already raised. Finn was one of the newer chem barons, and you had to wonder whether his affected swagger and bold fashion choices were compensation for the fact that he had inherited his position and everybody knew it.

“I’m always here. I’m Silco’s assistant.”

“I know,” said Finn, leaning on the edge of your desk, caging you in, “but I never noticed you.”

The desk you used was in a corner of the room, and Finn was blocking the only exit. You sighed, finishing what you’d been writing and capping your pen. You were not in the mood for this, but you plastered a polite smile on your face regardless. “Then I’m doing my job well, aren’t I?”

Not to be deterred, Finn only leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low purr. “I wouldn’t shove you in a corner and make you take notes all day, is all I’m saying. Nah, if you worked for me, I’d have you sat right next to me where everyone can see, and I’d—”

“I like my corner, thank you,” you said curtly before Finn could finish that thought, snapping your leather-bound notebook closed. It had been a gift from Silco, and the black cover bore a bright pink doodle of his insignia, courtesy of Jinx. “I like my job, too.” You glanced over at your boss. He was still talking with Renni, leaned back in his seat with a cigar smoking steadily in his hand and smoke drifting out from his lips as he spoke, but as if he could sense you looking at him his gaze flicked over to you, just for the briefest second. That relieved some of the tightness in your throat. Finn could be as pushy as he liked, and you could handle him, but Silco or Sevika would step in if you needed someone with a little more sway to scare Finn off.

It wasn’t yourself you were afraid for.

“Okay,” Finn said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. His eyes raked over you, and you realised that from this angle he probably had a pretty good view down the front of your blouse. “But you’re done working now, right? How about you come with me and I’ll show you how I’d appreciate having someone like you with the Slickjaws. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You stood abruptly, but Finn still didn’t back off. If anything, he only leaned closer while you packed your things away, and his too-heavy cologne made your nose twitch. “Thanks, Finn, but I’m not interested.”

Finn only drew himself taller, tilting his head as he gazed down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. The top one, anyway. “Fine, you wanna be like that, I get it. You’re a classy lady, I can see that. Guess that’s why you like working for Silco so much. I’ll take you to dinner first.”

You glanced back at Silco, and your throat tightened when your eyes met his. Renni was reading over some contract with her own assistant, but he was no longer paying attention. You wondered how long he’d been watching, letting Finn dig his own grave. The other chem baron was a dumbass, but he probably didn’t deserve whatever was coming if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Finn, I told you I’m not interested. Now please let me go home.” You tilted your chin up and put as much steel into your voice as you could.

But Finn wasn’t going to be deterred by your words. “Alone?” he said, leaning down into your space, his arm on the desk still caging you in.

“Yeah, alone,” you said, your patience wearing out. Fuck it. It wasn’t like Silco was going to punish you for giving as good as you got. Especially not to Finn. “Now let me pass or I’ll screw your jaw shut.”

To your dismay, Finn only laughed, his sleek curtain of hair swaying as he tipped his head back. “Oh, she bites! I knew you had some fire in there somewhere. I like them feisty.”

Of course he does. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling the weight of your brass knuckles in your pocket. Another gift from Silco – he’d wanted you to be able to protect yourself, even if you weren’t much of a fighter, and he’d reasoned that it would be hard for an assailant to take them and use them against you, so you’d have time to run. You’d never actually used them, and trying them out on Finn would definitely be taking it too far, but they were a comforting presence in your pocket nonetheless.

But a sharp call of your name cut across the lame response you’d been about to give, and relief made your shoulders sag. Silco was shrugging on his coat, his business with Renni concluded (and not to the other chem baron’s favour, judging by the sour expression on her face). “Come. We’re leaving.”

At last Finn stepped aside, his eyes roving over you one last time as you passed. “You know where to find me when the old man gives you a day off, baby.”

Ugh. “Keep dreaming, Finn,” you muttered as you hurried over to where Silco and Sevika were waiting by the elevator, and you didn’t miss the glare your boss shot Finn before he turned on his heel and stalked through the ornate doors of the assembly room.

“Please tell me you weren’t flirting with Finn,” Sevika said once the elevator was rumbling down to street level.

You glanced at Silco before you responded. He was quiet, his mismatched gaze fixed on something in the distance, and you could almost see the plans formulating behind his eyes like clouds gathering before a storm. “No way,” you said to Sevika. “He was just trying his luck. I bet kissing him is like licking a brass doorknob.”

That made Sevika chuckle, and you thought even Silco’s lips twitched up for a second, but it could have just been the lights from outside shifting as the elevator descended. He said nothing on the way down, but you could tell he wasn’t happy. You couldn’t begin to guess what he was planning, but the thought that Finn would soon be feeling the wrath of the Eye of Zaun was more exciting than it should have been.

-

A few days later, you had your answer.

Silco called you to his office towards the end of the day, when the bar downstairs was starting to empty and the sliver of sky you could see from the street was lightening, dawn turning the neon haze that bathed the city sickly green like a healing bruise. Zaun’s nocturnal schedule was one thing you’d always loved about it compared with Piltover. It gave everything that happened in the undercity an air of vice, and when you entered Silco’s office to find him already watching you with sharp eyes that felt like they could peel back every layer of your clothing, you knew your evening was about to get a lot more interesting.

“How do you feel about staying a little late tonight?” Silco said as you approached his desk. He turned his chair to the side, and that was all the signal you needed to round the desk and sink down into his lap.

“Need me to reorganise your filing cabinets again?” you said with an arch of your brows.

Silco took a cigar from the ashtray, and he didn’t need to ask you to light it for him. “Not quite. I’ve invited Finn here to discuss the territory dispute he was having with the Vyx. Tell me, do you truly find him so repulsive?”

“I…” You trailed off, wondering where this was going, but Silco’s ever-schooled expression gave you no hints. “Not repulsive, no. Just irritating.”

“And if I were to ask you to help him remember his place after the Assembly, what would you say?”

Ah. So this was where the other shoe dropped. For Finn, at least. The slow, almost absentminded circles Silco was drawing on your inner thigh (to the extent that Silco did anything absentmindedly) gave you a pretty good idea of what kind of plans Silco had made for the chem baron. “I suppose I could tolerate it for the sake of teaching him a lesson,” you said, keeping your voice light.

A slow, predatory smile spread across Silco’s features, and you shuddered. You’d been on the receiving end of that expression more than once. “Good girl. Now, go sit at your desk and look busy. You’ll know when I’m ready for you.”

-

When Finn arrived, you played the part of the quiet, unassuming assistant with practiced ease. You met him at the bar and led him upstairs, laughing off the flirtatious comments he made and putting a little extra sway into your hips for good measure. You fetched coffee and sat at your desk in the corner of the office, making yourself invisible as you let the scratching of your pen fill the gaps in the two chem barons’ conversation.

If Finn sensed anything was different, he gave no sign of it, sitting casually on Silco’s couch with one foot propped on his other knee, fidgeting with his lighter as he spoke. It was a wonder he ever got to light anything with it after wasting all the fuel.

You watched him from under your lashes as you worked. He wasn’t bad looking, really, just a little…over the top. If he noticed you watching, he wisely didn’t acknowledge it in front of Silco.

It was a little late for him to suddenly get some common sense, but you appreciated the effort anyway.

“There’s one more matter we need to discuss.” The chill that had crept into Silco’s voice made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. “Your transgression at the last chem baron assembly.” You heard his chair creak as he leaned back, but you didn’t dare look over at him.

“My—this is about her?” Finn said, his eyes finding you for the first time.

You could almost hear the unimpressed arch of Silco’s eyebrow in his voice. “My assistant made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in you, professionally or otherwise, yet you continued to pursue her, never once considering if perhaps there was a reason for her disinterest. One might even think you were trying to poach my staff from right under my nose. This was a grave insult towards both of us, Finn.”

For a second Finn’s mouth hung open as his eyes flitted between the two of you. You put your pen down, resting your chin on your hand as you watched the younger chem baron flounder. “I wasn’t—Silco, I would never try to take your staff from you. I just asked her out for a drink, that’s all, I swear.”

“I know,” Silco said, his voice deceptively light, and Finn’s whole body went rigid as he stood up and rounded his desk, but Silco only leaned on the other side, his arms folded as he looked down at Finn. “Just a moment of weakness, the temptation becoming too much for you, right? I’ll admit she can be something of a distraction.” He sighed, letting his words hang in the air, and you caught the exact moment Finn understood the implication, the suggestion that you weren’t just an assistant. By this point his eyes were so wide you would have laughed at the expression if you weren’t distracted by the heat already pooling low in your belly at what you knew was coming. Silco kept his eyes fixed on Finn as he held his hand out, long fingers crooked invitingly. “Come here, darling.”

You rose from your seat slowly, hardly daring to look at Silco as you came to stand between him and Finn. You already knew all the details of Silco’s plan, but you also knew that if you had a chance to dwell on what you were about to do, you’d lose your nerve. And you really didn’t want to back out now.

Finn’s metallic jaw hung loose as Silco’s hands trailed up your arms to the collar of your blouse, deft fingers undoing the buttons one by one. “You know, perhaps this situation is my fault,” he said as he pulled your blouse off your shoulders and tossed it aside. Next came your skirt, and you stepped out of your shoes and socks so you were stood there in only your undergarments. “Perhaps I haven’t been valuing your fantastic work ethic enough, Finn.” He punctuated that sentence by roughly unlacing your bra and tossing that aside too, so your tits bounced free. Your panties soon followed, another victim of the small knife Silco always kept up his sleeve.

Finn’s knuckles were now white, his hands clenched on his knees.

“Maybe it’s time I showed you how much I appreciate your contributions to the cause.”

Your nipples hardened to stiff, pebbled peaks, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the cool air in the office or Silco’s voice sliding against your ear like satin.

“Fortunately for you, she’s had something of a change of heart. Haven’t you, sweetheart? Would you like to help me remind Finn exactly where he stands in our enterprise?”

You nodded, then hissed as he pinched your nipples in warning. “Yes, sir,” you said quickly.

Finn’s eyes flicked between you and Silco, and you could see his mind reeling, searching for the catch. You could hardly blame him – though he made no move to leave, and his tight pants were doing absolutely nothing to hide his interest.

“Sure,” he said, shrugging in a way that was probably supposed to look nonchalant but would fool absolutely no-one. He glanced towards the door. “We could just—”

“Oh, no,” Silco said, nudging you towards the couch. “I think my office is perfectly sufficient.”

You knelt on the couch next to Finn, your hands braced on his thighs as he slowly shifted to face you. You wondered if he was even conscious of the movement. You glanced up at him, noted the slight flush on his cheeks. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and you could see the exact moment he thought, fuck it. He gave a short, jerky nod and you took that as your cue to free his cock from his jeans. You took him in your hand, already half-hard, but then you stopped, your eyebrows raising as you saw the three piercings near the bottom of his shaft, on the underside. They were gold barbells capped with large, heavy diamonds, and you wondered if they’d come before or after the jaw.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle a bit of ice, baby?” Finn purred.

“It won’t be a problem,” Silco answered for you. You glanced over your shoulder to find him leaning on the edge of his desk, watching with feigned boredom, though the heat in the depths of his corrupted eye gave him away. “She’s quite capable. Continue.”

You spat into your palm and worked your hand over the head of Finn’s cock. It didn’t take long to coax him to full hardness. When you glanced up at him, you could see he was doing his best to keep his expression schooled (which shouldn’t have been hard for him, given that half his face was metal). His fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch you but thought better of it. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as he seemed.

The couch dipped under you as Silco knelt behind you, and Finn looked up in alarm. “I never said you’d have her all to yourself,” your boss said over your shoulder.For a moment you were sure Finn would object, but he only chuckled, though his laughter was strained. “So that’s the deal with you two.”

“Yes, Finn, that is the deal,” Silco said, and your stomach twisted in anticipation as his hand fisted in your hair. “You got there eventually.”

“Come on, old man,” Finn said, some of his earlier bravado finding its way back into his voice. “You’re the last chem-baron I’d think would be fucking his assistant.”

“I suppose I’m full of surprises,” Silco said dryly, tapping a spot on your back, and you obediently put both hands behind your back so that Silco could pin them in place, your balance now completely dependent on him.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear and his voice soft enough for only you to hear. “Still okay with this, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what is our signal? Do you remember?”

“Tap your leg with my foot twice for a breather, three times to stop,” you recited.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and then he was pushing your head down.

For a few moments he only held your head at the tip of Finn’s cock, letting you take your time teasing the tip with your tongue. When you glanced up, your eyes met Finn’s, and you thought you heard him curse under his breath. Then you had to break eye contact as Silco forced your head lower, guiding Finn into your throat as you ran your tongue over the underside of his shaft, earning yourself a shaky, measured exhale that suggested it was taking all of Finn’s willpower not to start fucking your throat at his own pace.

Then Silco was pulling you back up, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water, though it was just the right kind of pain that sent flashes of heat along your spine. The heat between your thighs had solidified into a persistent, heavy ache, and you hoped Silco wasn’t planning for this to end with you simply sucking Finn's cock– and it wouldn’t, if the growing hardness you could feel pressing into your ass was any indication.

You took a breath while you could, before Silco pushed your head back down, this time far enough for you to give the first piercing an experimental flick with your tongue as it passed your lips, which made Finn’s breath stutter and his cock twitch in your throat.

There wasn’t time for such indulgences after that. Once you’d adjusted to Finn’s size and figured out how to avoid catching the stupid diamonds on your incisors, Silco set a more brutal pace that made Finn curse through gritted teeth as your head bobbed on his cock, though it was never more than you could handle. Silco knew exactly how much you could take, and he knew how to toe the line without pushing you over it, seemingly having some sixth sense for the moment your vision started to darken from lack of air. Your jaw ached and tears pricked at your eyes from the pain in your scalp, surely ruining your eyeliner, but not once did you consider tapping out. 

Silco let go of your hands, but you kept them clasped behind your back anyway. The vicelike grip he’d had on them had made his point clear enough; your every movement was to be at his command, your obedience complete. The sound of buttons popping was barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth on Finn’s length, but it still sent shivers of anticipation along your every nerve. You bit back a desperate whine when you felt Silco slowly draw his cock through your heat, coating himself in the wetness that had gathered there.

“Look at me, Finn,” Silco said, his voice like velvet, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as he sank into you, though the pressure of being filled at last did nothing to soothe the ache in your core. You risked a cheeky thrust of your hips backwards, urging him deeper, which earned you a warning tug on your scalp. You couldn’t see whether Finn obeyed, but he must have, because Silco continued, “This could have been you right now. Had you kept your head down, done your damn job and kept the money coming in, perhaps I would have seen fit to reward you properly.” He drew himself almost fully out of you before thrusting back in to the base, your groan of pleasure muffled by Finn’s cock. Silco had forced you to take him so deep your nose was pressed to his groin, and your mind felt fuzzy, but you still had enough wit to think to yourself, liar. Silco might be willing to allow Finn to indulge in your mouth, but he had an ulterior motive. Anything else was about as likely as a Shimmerhead sharing his fix. “But no,” he continued, his voice sliding into a low, dangerous hiss that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. “You had to poke your head up above your station. You had to get cocky. You had to try to claim what isn’t yours. I want you to remember this next time you think of stepping out of line.” His voice was as measured as ever, his tone bordering on disinterest, but you knew better. You heard the gravelly bedrock beneath the silken surface. He’s close. “Remember who built this nation. Who gave you your own little fiefdoms where you can live like kings, instead of street dogs tearing each other apart over scraps. And remember how easily I can tear you down, just as swiftly as I raised you up.”

As if to illustrate his point, he pulled your head up so you released Finn’s cock and your spluttering gasps filled the quiet, occasionally dissolving into desperate whimpers as Silco fucked you, just a little slower than he knew you liked, the bastard.

When you risked another glance up at Finn, you could see the cogs turning behind his lust-clouded eyes, even as he subconsciously angled his hips up towards your waiting mouth.

“All right, I overstepped,” he gritted out. “I already said I was sorry.” You thought you caught a please whispered under his breath, or maybe it was just the blood rushing in your ears.

Silco gave a low hm of consideration but pushed your head back down regardless, and you obediently opened your mouth to take Finn into your throat once more. This time the pace Silco set was more intense, and you had to fight off your gag reflex as Finn shuddered beneath you.

“Everything you have, everything you are, exists because I allow it. Both of you,” he said, driving into you faster, your tits bouncing obscenely with the force of it. “But look at her, you’re grateful, aren’t you darling?”

You gave a choked moan around Finn’s cock, and Silco chuckled, the sound rich and smoky and tipping you dangerously close to a peak you weren’t sure you had permission to reach. “That’s it,” he said, fingers finding their way to your clit as if to reward your obedience. “Always so well behaved. You could stand to learn a few things, Finn.”

The tight, quick circles Silco was drawing on your clit were enough to send you careening into your orgasm, permission be damned. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you clenched around Silco’s cock, waves of pleasure radiating from your core to the tips of your toes, and the force of it soon pulled Silco down with you, though the only thing that gave him away was the stutter in the rhythm of his hips and the tightening of his hand in your hair.

He pulled out of you and quickly tucked himself away, pulling you off Finn once again. You panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm skittered along your nerves, a string of drool connecting you to the tip of Finn’s dick. “If you want to finish,” Silco said, “you can start by apologising to my assistant.”

“Fuck,” Finn snapped when you gave a taunting little lick to his head when he took his time answering. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean – I shoulda left you alone when you said. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it was just flirting.”

“Acceptable?” Silco leaned down to speak softly into your ear again, and you shivered in pleasure at the attention.

You looked up at Finn through your lashes. His sleek hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, and his gold eyes had a wildness to them you’d never seen before, like he was balancing on the edge of a building and you were the one holding him up, and he didn’t know if you were about to save him or let him fall.

It occurred to you that you could say no. One word from you, and Silco would send Finn scuttling out of here with balls as blue as Hex-crystals.

That was probably what Silco would have done, if it were up to him. Fortunately for Finn, you weren’t so cruel. Your throat was raw and the words wouldn’t come, so you just nodded. It was enough.

“Very well.” Silco released your hair and sat back against the couch. “You may finish, Finn.”

“In her mouth?” he said as you swirled your tongue around his head once more, this time able to use your hands as well, sparing your abused throat.

There was a click and fizz of a lighter, and you could picture very well the withering glare that Silco had to be aiming over your head. “Well, if you ruin my couch I’ll have you gutted alive. So yes, come in her mouth.”

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked, and that was all it took. Finn came with a growl he barely stifled, boldly grabbing your hair and holding you in place as he fucked your throat, spilling over your tongue again and again as you swallowed it down. You were relieved when you could finally release him, giving one last flick of your tongue to his tip, making him hiss. It was only fair, you thought, considering the ache in your jaw.

“Get out,” Silco said quietly from behind you. “And never pull something like this again. Next time I will not be so lenient.”

Finn said nothing, only tucked himself into his pants and ducked out the door, his usual swagger gone. You weren’t fooled, though. You knew the look of a man who’d just had the best orgasm of his life.

Sighing, you flopped back on the couch, your head landing in Silco’s lap as your eyes fluttered shut in contentment.

“Was that too much?” Silco asked softly. He stroked a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight compared to the iron grip he’d just had on your scalp.

You shook your head, breathing in the cloud of smoke he let drift down over you. “But you’re buying me a wig if I wake up bald tomorrow.”

He chuckled, the rich, dark sound curling out from his lips and settling over you much like the smoke had, sending heat curling in your belly once more. “Deal.” 

[findmeinthelake]

Golden Mirror

Silco X Reader fic <3 (gender neutral)

Rating: G

TW: Injury/slight gore Contains mostly fluff/tension <3

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be safe.

It was supposed to be secure.

But no.

Of course it went like this.

No one like you is allowed nice things.

Not for a minute.

You screamed, clawing at the mercenary that was sent to kill you.

It’s okay. This was expected. That’s what he said.

You knew the risks.

The cold blade slashed at your face, cutting deep and cutting fast. It burned, tingling as whatever substance was on the knife sunk into your skin. 

You thought you screamed before, but this was a new type of pain. A searing sensation that ran across your cheek, using your veins to spread the awful concoction across your body.

And the screams grew louder.

Were they yours? Or were they from the mercenary? 

A buzzing sound clouded your head, black filling your eyes as the blue dots danced around. 

Is dying supposed to hurt? Or is it oddly comforting like he says?

This was more confusing than comforting.

Everything begins to spin, around and around, jumbling your brain. The screams fade into shouts, and the searing pain is masked with a strange soreness.

Your hands hurt.

— — ( • ) — — 

“Wake up.”

You groggily opened your eyes, the green hue of the room too bright. It was weird. How did you get here?

He walks over. 

What’s his name?

Silco. How could you forget?

“You took a nasty beating.” He murmurs, waving the doctor, whom you barely remember, out of the room. “Hit your pretty little head.” He smirked.

You groaned, rubbing at your temple. 

“I thought I was-”

“Dead?” He hummed, looking over his shoulder at you. “Mm. Strange, isn’t it?” Silco paused, grabbing his syringe and injecting shimmer into his scarred pupil. “It feels out of body- like you are floating.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, your vision coming back to you.

Ah, yes. You were at work.

At home.

Silco walked over, tilting your chin up. “Singed isn’t the best doctor, but he is a genius.” He spoke, examining your face. He roughly handled it, his hands a comforting soft compared to your calloused face. 

“How bad is it?” You ask, wanting to see a mirror. Everything felt normal, so, it must’ve been numbed. 

He pulled the gold mirror from his desk. It was the one he stared at so many times while applying his makeup to conceal his horrible scarring. 

You looked. 

It was a gash from the side of your head to your nose, an ugly mark on your face. 

“I’m no stranger to facial scars.” He spoke, his demeanor growing softer than you’d ever seen it. Usually he was a stone cold man. “I’m biased, of course, but you don’t look bad.”

“You don’t look bad” Of course it was a half assed compliment.

With a nod, you accepted it. You knew the risks.

He traced his fingers along the mended wound. “I did the stitches.” He smiled, admiring his own work. “Singed handled the whole, well, chemistry.”

“Thank you.” You muttered, feeling the bumpy stitches. 

Why was he more talkative today?

He stared at you, a blank expression on his face. 

“Just remember to put ointment on it.” He muttered, walking away, pinching the bridge of his nose and scolding himself.

You slid off the couch, looking after him before he left the room.

Strange.

[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 

[honey-tongued-devil]

Did you miss me?

(Not gonna lie, @dad-dumpster did one (1) fanart were Silco was eating, with his nose dripping, and it altered my brain chemistry forever )

[aikoiya]

Yan!Silco x Yan!Fem!Assassin Reader Who Absolutely Adores Him

Inspired by @sunshine-for-serotonin's "Silco with an S/O who genuinely adores him."

---

Yandere Silco with Fem!Assassin Reader who absolutely adores Silco & dotes on him, being very affectionate with both him & Jinx.

Not obtrusively or overly saccharinely so or in any way that would imply that he has weakness. At least, not in public anyway. Rather, she's careful to behave in ways that show him as being powerful & in charge while making her appear weak. Will often discretely place her hand on his shoulder or arm & give him a light squeeze to show she's there when she notices that he needs reassurance.

She looks delicate & defenseless, the Industrialist's cute little arm candy. Often compared to a porcelain doll. But was in reality trained from birth to be an assassin like Black Widow, just without the operation to remove her womb.

Silco had been one of the clients her handler took, & the instant he saw her standing there, he knew that she had to be his. So, after she completed the hit, (it took nary a day & there was no evidence or witnesses) Silco later comes back, kills her handler, & takes her for himself.

The first real affection she'd ever gotten in her life was from Silco & she was instantly addicted to it. She's desperate to keep him loving her.

Is always wearing hair sticks that are actually needles that she uses like daggers. Will gladly kill anyone who threatens Silco or Jinx.

Has Spiderman levels of parkour & freerunning skills. With Assassin's Creed levels of stealth.

Knows ballet due to having been taught at a young age as ballet teaches absolute body control.

Has a great deal of knowledge in toxicology & toxinology as a result of her profession & actually very much enjoys making her own poisons.

Despite her short & sweet outside, she's a regular hellcat in a fight. Literally. Absolutely vicious, yet cold as ice. Fights with poison-laced nails or her hair sticks. Moves like a cat too. Cannot be caught unless taken completely by surprise. Will literally rip a man's ear off with her teeth!

Also knows her way around a sniper rifle or crossbow when necessary, but prefers her knives & nails.

Has intimate knowledge of all the body's weak points & can kill you faster than you can blink. Quick & without ceremony. They won't even realize that they're dead before they're facedown in their own blood.

Is secretly Silco's second to last line of defense, his goons being his first, Sevika being the next, then there's Reader, & finally Silco himself.

Frankly, she terrifies Sevika.

—

She always takes note of when Silco is overworked, stressed, hasn't eaten, is insecure, or just has a headache & goes out of her way to pamper him in ways that help him relax & feel better.

Scalp massages for headaches. Easy to eat & mess-less, yet delicious & healthy sandwiches when he's working. Or full delicious meals (namely his favorites) to coax him away from work for a moment for a small break. Refilling his coffee when it's low (always done just how he likes it).

She didn't initially know how to cook, but was determined to be of service to Silco as best she could as that was all she'd ever known. So, she began reading cook books & learning all she could from Silco's minions who actually know how. (Who are too scared of the boss killing them to deny her requests.)

Back massages after being hunched over in a chair all day, getting all the knots out. Body worship with whispered adoration & praise when insecure (which doesn't happen often, but it does happen on occasion), especially in the places that he's most insecure about. Specifically, the scarred side of his face. She is decidedly not scared of his scars & actually finds him devilishly handsome, even rogueish without his cover up.

Holding him tight when he has nightmares. Rubbing circles into his back & whispering that she was there into his ear.

When he's struggling with something, she makes herself available to him emotionally. Always willing to talk things out, but if he doesn't want to talk about it, she'll just sit there quietly with him, holding his hand as he processes his emotions. Just letting him know that she's there.

Baths where she washes his hair & back, massaging his scalp & back thoroughly. If he's working too late into the night & there is no deadline for the work, she'll coax him away with promises of sex by either getting up behind him & sucking/kissing his neck, whispering in his ear all the dirty things she'll do to him or what she wants him to do to her or walks in wearing a trench before letting it fall to show lingerie underneath. (As an assassin, she's had to seduce both men & women at times in order to get close to them & kill them. Though, Silco was the first person that she's ever actually wanted to be with in such a capacity. Thus, he means quite a lot to her.)

Doesn't mind wearing sexy little numbers or roleplaying for him because she figures that if she does this for him, then he's obligated to indulge her in her kinks later. (It took a lot of trial & error for her to learn what all she enjoyed. Pegging is always fun, though it took a while for Silco to be okay with giving her so much control. She actually got a magical tattoo over her womb that creates a solid magic phallus that she can actually feel through for one of her missions before Silco. -Don't ask.- It also took her a while to understand that she was allowed to ask for things from him too as she'd never been in anything even resembling an equal relationship. All her experience was as a slave who did what she was told.)

For more on the magic strap, go here:

If he needs her to top, she does so (a switch by nature & a service top who's default is gentle & reverent unless he urges her to be rougher, then will go as hard as he wants; in such a situation, she is either a top, whether via riding or pegging, or as a power bottom). Doesn't mind it if he decides that he needs her to cockwarm him while he finishes work. Will just embrace him & relax against his chest as she places soft, sweet kisses to his neck & shoulder as he finishes his paperwork. Is more than okay with indulging in his kinks so long as they aren't absolutely disgusting (which, luckily, none of them are). Is even willing to indulge in knifeplay or choking or play the part of a dominitrix (bdsm, dom/sub, bondage, degridation, whipping, ect) so long as it doesn't go too far. The last thing she wants is to legitimately harm him, but also understands that some people get a kick outta pain.

Reader often helps organize Silco's paperwork when there's too much of it by order of importance & urgency, while grouping together duplicates or multiples with the same basic issues (letting him know about them before throwing the extras away just in case she missed something) & complaints. As well as condensing reports. Just overall streamlining things for him. (She started doing all of this on her own just to help him however she could.)

---

In this situation, I could see Darling sitting on Silco's lap during meetings with a book, even in Chem-Baron meetings. Sorry, that's simply her seat now. You're just gonna have to deal with it.

She is tremendously intelligent, a mistress of Hellstromism (reading a person's thoughts via observing their facial ticks & body language), interrogation, & torture, & when she wants to make an observation in a meeting that no one else seems to have really considered or some other frankly enlightening contribution to the conversation or even the fact that one of the other Barons was hiding something, she'll lean up & whisper it into Silco's ear rather than alerting the rest of the Barons. But even in those situations, she doesn't divert her attention away from either Silco or the book in her hands even while quietly observing everyone in the room.

Only really noticeably looks at the other members of those meetings to glare at them in a way that makes them feel like insects.

She also quickly notices when Silco begins to get frustrated in these meetings & in those moments, gently kisses his cheek or jaw or temple while she caresses the other cheek. Never shying away from his scar.

It never fails to calm him down & ground him.

Always wears a steampunk dress that matches his suit in color scheme to Chem-Baron meetings & can always be seen wearing a leather choker with a gold heart & Silco's signature engraved into the metal.

It all sends a clear message. One that very loudly says, 'I'm Silco's. Do not touch under pain of death a/o dismemberment.'

She has this thing about reciprocal ownership & also has a tattoo of Silco's signature over her heart. If Silco has one of hers over his own heart, is absolutely ecstatic about it.

If he calls her 'his,' will confirm with 'yours' before asking 'mine?' If he reciprocates, confirming that 'yes, he's hers too,' then she'll practically croon into his kiss.

Also likes it when Silco uses possessive pet names such as 'my kitten' or 'my treasure' or 'my pet' or 'my pearl' or 'my doll' or even 'my queen' for her & she tends to use them for him herself. Things like, 'my king' or 'my love' or 'my darling.'

There's definitely a lot of co-dependency going on in this relationship.

Adores Jinx & enjoys listening to her babble on about her inventions. Eager to give her own input when appropriate. Seems to know how to handle the girl in a way that even Silco really doesn't at times. Is very kind, calm, & motherly with the girl. Has big mom energy.

Helps Silco to administer his medicine whenever Jinx is busy. Holds him close when he seizes from the pain, nuzzling & kissing his throat.

Will also seamlessly step into his spot of ruthless business owner when he needs a break. Is normally sweet & demure, but it's like a switch is flipped & she becomes this cold, calculating queenpin. Still seems sweet, but in a passive-aggressive way, her edges suddenly far sharper & unusually threatening for a woman her size. She can actually handle most anything that Zaun or Piltover can throw at her with steel in her bones, she just prefers her life as Silco's cute little housewife.

Just very dedicated to taking care of her man & their daughter, making sure they're both happy & healthy. (Which includes helping Jinx come to terms with her past trauma & become a well-adjusted individual. As well as how to value people as more than toys to be played with until they're broken, then thrown away.)

Loves Jinx dearly, but quickly takes on the role of 'responsible parent' because it becomes very obvious, very quickly that Silco is very soft on the girl & literally lets her get away with murder. So, Reader takes on the dubious duty of being Mrs. Tough Love, in charge of real serious talk. Never oversteps the line, but definitely nudges it. Is really serious about this role & often reads parenting books. Is careful to never be cruel about it.

Also teaches Jinx how to fight both hand-to-hand, with a knife, or brass knuckles just in case she's ever without her guns or bombs. Gifted her with a pair of fingerless shooting gloves with metal knuckle studs. Would rip apart anyone who hurt the girl with her bare hands.

If anyone ever tries to kidnap Reader & hold her for ransom against Silco, she'll, 9 times out of 10, end up walking back home on her own covered in her captor's blood before the kingpin even has the chance to do anything, as though she hadn't just committed a massacre. Might even end up meeting up with him as he's searching for her. Always brings back a trophy, which tends to be something her captor held dear that's also small enough to carry with her.

Gifts it to Silco as an apology for having been stolen from him.

---

Reader is innately a non-materialistic person & most things she wants tend to have some sort of utility or purpose, whether for herself or for her family. She's used to living a very spartan lifestyle, so it takes time for her to begin indulging in things. Even then, most superfluous things she becomes interested in will either help her to help Silco, is really something that Silco will like (such as lingerie), or reminds her of Silco or Jinx in some way.

She does have a fascination with stealth weapons & jewelry that have a utilitarian use. Things like her hair stick weapons or shoes with blades in the heels or earrings that function as 2-way radios or charm bracelets with charms she can remove & throw to the ground & they turn out to be smoke bombs or flash bangs or a bracelet that unfolds into a wrist-mounted mini-crossbow. Things like that.

Has also begun to learn pharmacology & various other medical studies for fear of her new family getting hurt or becoming ill.

Is quickly becoming skilled in biochemistry, pharmacology, pharmacognosy, & alchemy as a result. (Revived Silco after Jinx shot him at the end of season 1.)

Has discovered that she enjoys gardening & cultivates plants that are useful for poison making, alchemy, medicine, or cooking.

Is an immaculate strategist & has a natural inclination for noticing cause & effect. As such, she has a tendency to see the long-term consequences of Silco's plans when he simply doesn't see the full scope at times. Such as the long-term consequences that Shimmer will have on Zaun & its people, as well as Zaun's incoming economic collapse should the city not find any other products to trade besides Shimmer.

As such, she alerts him to those consequences without making him feel like she's criticizing or degrading him.

Because of this, she recommended that he hire people to scour Runeterra for phytoremedial & cave-dwelling plants, including crops, to try & alleviate this oversight.

She & Silco enjoy playing chess. In the beginning, Reader would let him win until he noticed & requested that she no longer do so. She then began crushing him at the game. This resulted in Silco slowly becoming more skilled over time until they became pretty even skillwise. Now, the outcome is pretty even between Silco, Reader, & tie.

---

It's just been brought to my attention that the Reader in this is kinda yandere herself &, honestly, they're right.

I suppose that Silco & Reader's relationship in this is supposed to be a lot like salt. In that salt is a benign compound made by combining 2 toxic elements, sodium (Na) & chloride (Cl). Don't know which represents which, but c'est la vie!

In this way, their combined yandere-ness sort of cancels each other out? Or, at least, that's what I'm going for here.

---

How would Silco's react to all of this do ya'll think?

Anyone who wants to tackle this is more than welcome to!

Just be sure to tag or link me!

[a-gal-with-taste]

Standoff (Oneshot)

Summary: There's a deadlock, between you and the reigning Eye of Zaun. Neither dare to acknowledge it amongst the others in-power, and you're more than content to leave lingering glances, coy shared-words and secret desires to yourself... until, you get a message, asking for a meeting at midnight. The Eye knows all too well, that you won't refuse the summons. And you know him well-enough, to know exactly what this summons is about.

Wordcount: 1.5K

Warnings: SFW. Chembaron!Reader, tension, confrontation, unorthodox Zaunite politics mentioned, romance, first-kisses

"I don't think anyone knows me better than you."

"So... what? You think means I care about you?"

Tilting his head, Silco hums in consideration. Such a thought puts you more on-edge than ever, and you subtly step to the side, further from him. The long table, gleaming despite smogged moonlight from above, acts as your only shield...

And you know how ineffective it was. You knew, the moment the Eye of Zaun decided to, the table would amount to a pesky amount of nothing, and the distance between you would close.

You weren't sure what would happen when it did. You're mind, and heart, were both still debating if you wanted to know.

"Care, tolerate..." The man brought his gloves flat onto the surface of the table, but didn't lean closer. Perhaps he waited for you to close the distance, even by such a tiny increment as leaning - if he was, Silco was to wait for a long, long time. You didn't dare to move an inch. "I'm not so blinded by idealism, that I imagine you enjoy the fact you think of me in such few words - or others."

"Maybe I don't think of you."

"Maybe honesty suits you far more than lying."

The scowl you give him doesn't earn a single reaction from him - you chose to think that the muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth as just a trick of moonlight - but you catch Silco's eyes flickering down to the hand you're balling up into a fist. "Maybe," He starts again. "As frustratingly bad you are at lying, you're far more frustrated with speaking the truth. Particularly one you already know to be true."

"There's several truths in this situation, Silco. Let's start with the most important," A brief, sweeping gesture around the environment you've found yourself in, before you say the obvious in a dry tone. "This is hardly a welcoming atmosphere for one of your Chem-Barons."

"I'll make a note for candlelight the next time we meet in the night," Silco assures you, a now-crooked look on thin lips that has something inside of you warming, and twisting. His head follows suit with the theme of slanting, his head tilting, and gaze sliding down to observe your body-language as he speaks in low tones.

"You weren't ordered to come here, if you didn't think you were walking into a welcoming atmosphere."

"I don't follow your orders," You snap back, and Silco shrugs. Conceding to that point, but he offers another, one that you can't so easily refute.

"You didn't have to come. Why did you?"

You don't have to answer that - you said it yourself, you don't follow his orders, and just you came, doesn't mean there's any requirement to stay.

Pivoting sharply, coat snapping with a flourish... it takes you less than five steps to realize that Silco is matching in your strides. Step by step, pace equal, as he slowly, methodically drags his fingers along the surface of the table, nearly tracing the outwardly designs.

They stop, the instant that you do.

"Why did you come?... Don't bother," He says, tone still mild, nearly pleasant, even as he shakes his head, a flash of chipped-white teeth showing when your mouth audibly closes at his dismissal of the lie he spotted building on your lips. "Don't bother, trying to lie. You're amusingly bad at it... and I already have my answer."

"Do you now?" Straightening, you curl your fingers into your hand flat on the table. The urge to tap them in impatience, boredom is strong, but he would easily be able to see your fingers shaking if you did. The Eye of Zaun misses very little, after all.

Raising you chin, you still keep your tone flat, "Don't leave me in suspense, then."

This time, Silco brings both hands flat onto the table, leaning close. The darkness of the room, even contrasted in moonlight in the Chembaron Chamber, leaves him largely coated in shadow...

For a heartbeat, all you can focus on in is dark swirl of red, flamed with intensity, smoldering at his words, "You're too much like myself, you see... we both understand each other too well. The moment the offer was made, the note written and passed from my subordinate to yours, I knew you would end up here," A pause, then he smiles. Smiles... it's something you have you glance away from before that warm, twisting thing inside you spreads throughout. "Just as you knew my offer was genuine-"

"A work-offer, Silco," You say, sharp enough to cut him off, before he says more than you're prepared for. "This is buisness, and it needs to stay buisness. I don't know what this all is-"

"You do know."

"Stop-"

"I'm hardly blind, and it's mutual," Like the cat that tired of the mouse, Silco grew tired with the endless circling of this conversation, of constant denials and knowing smirks. Expression flat, while yours it's open with surprise, shock, even, the Eye continues with a firmness in his voice to punctuate every syllable of his words, "It is mutual. Whether you chose to believe that is up to you, but never have I lied to you... it would be counterproductive to start here, now."

The rationalization is what brings you back. The realization that he's correct - that you know him enough to know he speaks the truth, is enough to make you waver. Enough to make you stop glancing towards the door, enough to make you stop pre-working on erasing this interaction from your mind...

Enough, for just a moment, for you to hope.

But you are still a buisness woman. A Chem-Baroness, smart, tactical, fierce and know all-to-well what the stakes are in this game of Zaun. What Silco's offering isn't just personal - both of you know the impact this will have, not just on the spectrum of relationships, but politics, buisness...

And you know, as much as Silco is looking at you, eyes cracked open enough to tell you that he's willing and wanting to see you as more, that at the end of the day, you are a Baron. And he is King.

"... I don't want to be a pawn for you." You decide, firmly. "Regardless whether our relationship would... continue in the buisness-aspect, I'm not foolish to believe I wouldn't be an piece on the board for you."

Silco hums, while also fixing you with a look of knowing that's becoming increasing familiar, and irritating. "Nor am I foolish enough to think you wouldn't do the same with me. We're of an opportunistic breed, my dear... and I'm sure anyone would enjoy having the Eye in their back-pocket."

"Or in their bed?"

The challange - the coy, almost flirtatious challange - makes his remaining eye widen, to the point it almost rivals the lidless one. Then, your smirk gives him a reason to turn, and take one step along the side of the table.

This time, you don't match it. Don't extend the stalemate any further than it needed to. Allowing him to grow closer, turning to watch his approach, until he's only seats away from you - at his head of the table.

"Depends on where opportunity leads us first," He muses in a murmur that's almost soft - it's enough to make you shudder. Combined with the fact that moonlight is dimmed enough on that side of the room, that all you can see of him is a darker silhouette and a glowing-red gaze, a genuine shiver rolls pleasantly up your spine as he says your name.

That's all he has to say, really. Because the action of his hand, gloved, fingers loose and coaxing in their silent invitation as he raises it towards you, says far more.

The subtle, eager twitch of his fingers when you take your first step, says even more than words ever could. Towards him, not to the door like you had thought you would the moment you walked in here.

"... I'm remaining a Baron. This doesn't change my profession."

"Would never dream of it."

"No interference. Your support is... appreciated, but I can handle myself."

"I have no doubts... I know of your capabilities."

"Then you'll know you're a dead-man walking, if you ever try to use this against me," You say, low and sweetly as you step into the shadows with him. Your hand placed into his, and Silco's fingers curl around your hand - the grip isn't biting, but you know you don't have a prayer of getting free.

You know you don't want to. And Silco smiles, a warming thing, that tells you that he knows to.

Maybe you both know each other too well.

"I know, darling," The purr rumbles - In front of you, echoing around you, and against you, as you're slowly pulled flush against Silco's chest.

It's warm, in comparison to the chill of the grand table of the Chembaron Assembly hall, that pressed into the small of your spine as Silco slowly backs you into it. Caging you to it, both hands beside you... You're made to lean back over the table with every inch he closes, until all that's left is one, single inch between you.

"Believe me," He murmurs, breath hot, and spiced with the remains of his last cigar. "I know."

At that, your eyes flutter half-closed, and you close that pesky inch of distance, to begin to know how it feels to kiss the Eye of Zaun.

[Taglist: @sweatandwoe @mazikomo @ironandglass @bb-8 @syx-00 @lackofhonor @soullessbody @ellhd-imagination @wanna-plan-world-domination @bloodmoon-bites @sengawolf @thereading-nook @zillahvathek @my-awakened-ghost @agoutighost @shuttlelauncher81 @stabmemaybe @rosmariner @intpthinkinginquiet @atalldrinkofcaprisun @ladykatakuri @littledollll @betasuppe @of-the-argonath @dropssofjupitter @gooseberries88 @yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy @aboveasphodel @marina-and-the-memes @masterjedilenaaa @foppishish @dad-dumpster @nyx2021 @beef-bakery @jennithejester @the-lake-is-calling @ariaud]

[vinciwolf]

Art Appreciation

Arcane Silco x fem!Reader

Synopsis: this is a continuation of this post from @astudyincontrasts​

Warnings: Explicit, nsfw, mishandling of paint, MDNI

Word Count: 1,863

A/N: I highly recommend checking out "Blasphemia" by Eliran Kantor (their Instagram). Don’t forget to reblog! 

Today you wore a skirt and simple blouse under a heavy coat to mask your Piltover status as you rode the shaky elevator into the bowels of the Undercity.

Your nostrils flared to calm the racing wallop against your ribcage when you thought of your client’s recent letter for your presence.

It wasn’t intended to be this way at all, not that you were complaining. You indifferently suggested to attend a viewing of an old painting that had built a reputation for its audacious nudity, or so you had heard, but never in your wildest thoughts did you believe The Eye to be interesting in acrylic erotica after he had made it very clear that he preferred more physical interactions instead.

Remembrance of the desecrated bathroom counter made your legs wane and tongue lap forward along the dryness of your lip before the ding from the elevator signaled the doors to slide open into a neon lit world.

.

.

. 

Walking up the lavish staircase to the pillared museum entrance felt like a marathon runner beating inside your chest, not from the exercise, but from the way Silco, again, never let his hand falter away from the small of your back, as if to lead you like he did the other time you both were here.

When inside however, his demeanor changed to a more collective stance, hands swinging behind his coattail in his regular poised manner – leaving you to mentally pout at the absence of his palm along your lower spine. 

Everything he did had purpose, and today he wasn’t going to give you an inch until he decided when. Suddenly, your coat felt too tight so you removed it for some oxygen and gave it to the coat attendant at the entranceway.

As you approached closer to the area that housed the painting of interest, both sets of footsteps stopped when you saw a sign that stated:

Viewing closed for the evening. Gallery under maintenance. Sorry for the inconvenience.

You tsked and rolled your eyes as you looked around annoyed before your neck turned back to Silco standing a little too close to the tape blocking off the section under care.

“Well?” Silco inquired with a straight look, an eyebrow raised, and the edge of his mouth pointing up just a bit at his subtle request to misbehave.

A single index finger lifted the tape, giving you the quick decision – looking around briefly – to bend over and sneak under it, your client also slipping past the cautionary tape behind you.

Passing by rows of artwork littering the vast hallways, you finally found the room with the erotic painting.

On entering the spacious gallery, there were multiple buckets of paint and tarps that lined the floor. Carefully maneuvering past the mess and the ladders where the walls would be made anew with a fresh coat of paint, some of the walls already finished, you and Silco approached the canvas of both your curiosity.

It was a small painting, maybe no larger than a twelve-by-twelve canvas, but the subject matter helped gravitate the eye and amplify the piece across the room.

Your eyes widened; heart galloped.

The woman was leaned over a table, her head craning backwards over the edge, hair drooping and tangled, while her jaw was slack and eyebrows stitched together. Her expression was a mix of pain and pleasure and one could only imagine the noises she cried from that open mouth. The source of her pleasure had your blood flushing to your groin, making your throat bob from how the painting left you desiring the same pain this woman was experiencing.

A man’s torso could be seen, but his head was cut off at the edge of the canvas. His waist spread the woman’s thighs apart. Despite the fact that his groin could not be seen, any viewer concluded what he was ploughing into this woman, beckoning such an expression from her.

An ache pulsated between your legs when your mind drifted into a filthy flashback of you hunched over and stuffed full over a bathroom sink.

The aftermath dripped onto your skirt while eating your meal across from the man who left you to soak in the mess he made of you, leaving a trail on your belongings you had to scrub out the next morning before it stained.

Your world tilted from the flush in your cheeks.

Walking to calm your beating pulse, you tried to brush the skin of your thighs together to ease the pool of moisture that had gathered along your slit.

Then a wave of shock hooked you by surprise when a hard tug of your elbow pulled you face-to-face with the man responsible for your mess below.

“Having to walk away?” Silco’s cool voice breathed against your cheek then next to the rim of your ear, sending another buzz through your nerves.

Your throat hitched from the deathly close proximity, flaring the heat already overtaking your limbs just as your knees didn’t feel like working.

Then it finally clicked together why Silco drew away this evening. He was collecting data, observant as ever, desiring to witness your undiluted reaction for his own curious amusement. Now he had what he needed.

“It’s what makes this painting so infamous. For some viewers to have an… adverse reaction to such a lude sight of a woman being fucked senseless,” he puffed directly along your neck, “Oh, I did my research, lovely. Now I know why you wanted to inspect this one out,” and smiled when you desperately clung to his shoulders for support from the unbearable spike of arousal being driven deeper into your body.

“Do you want me to take you again,” he teased his breath on the length of your throat this time.

“Do you want me to have you crying like that whore in the canvas?”

A bated whimper ghosted Silco’s hair, hands shaking from the tight grip on his coat, as you bore the fatigue of your edgy limbs anticipating his next indulgence on your body.

His eyes locked with yours when he moved a hair’s length away from the apple of your cheek before tilting his chin, lips brushing, your breath hitched, and palmed the nape of your neck.

Your whole body buckled when his mouth crashed into yours, foot taking a step back, all the while your skin hummed with electricity about to combust into a thousand nuclear explosions.

The pace of the kiss was rough and breathless. Tongues swirled exchanging saliva, his lapping the inside of your cheek and swallowing your moans with every consumption of your mouth.

A hand glided to the side of your hip and had you pacing backwards until you collided with the museum wall. You were too occupied to notice the sticky substance pinning your shirt to its barrier as white paint coated your backside.

Releasing your mouth with a pop and navigating himself, nose dragging along your skin, to claim a piece of your neck, you braced the wall with a hand, the other clutching raven locks, when long fingers split through your nether lips and harshly indented your pulsating nub making you churn and pant from the fireworks cramping your inner thighs.

Fingers scratched the wall having you gasp audibly when you could feel liquid sticking to the tips and your palm. Peeling your hand away and examining the white now pressed into the print of your palm, you tapped Silco’ head and called his name to get his attention.

He peered up, hair disheveled, face looking so sexy from his lust-filled haze, as you showed him the mess on your hand.

“The wall its—”

“If that is of more concern then we can leave now to wash up,” he chided flatly then leaned into the lobe of your ear and growled, “or I can fuck you against this wall and make a mess so the workers tomorrow know a slut ruined their hard work.”

Coat was shed and thudded on the ground while legs spread apart with the hoist of your body onto a lean waist. Your skirt was lifted by large fingers above your belly as you undid the buttons to Silco’s silk shirt. It parted open for you to explore the expanse of his bare chest, eyes wandering to the now split trousers below revealing trimmed bush encircling a hard cock resting on the visible skin of your stomach.

Your hole clenched in excitement when you realized you could relive the fullness you felt the day of the bathroom incident.

Silco took his cock in hand, pulling hips away from yours momentary, and gradually, your mind going faint, fed the length inside until it disappeared completely into your cunt.

The white mess on your palm splatter across the clothed space between Silco’s shoulder blades when he thrusted hard once which knocked the hasty breath from your lungs. Then he began a merciless pace up into you that had you crying desperately at the ceiling.

The paint on the wall smeared your clothes clinging to the wet barrier as your body was being shoved up and down wickedly fast, ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ panting down the curve of your shoulder which made you spin even more, hole clinging tight to the penetration below.

Then, to stay true to the canvass, Silco shoved you onto the tarped ground now scrunching under your weight, crashing a bucket forward and causing a splash of white to leak across the unprotected marble floor.

His haunches were used to lift your rear off the tarp and get a better handle on your hips, fingers indenting the soft flesh as he railed your cunt, having your breasts bounce inside your bra from the brute force of being hammered just like the woman mutely echoing your cries on the wall.

You tipped your head back, hands loosely on the ground, as echoes of your keening flooded the gallery in time with every thrust against your bottom, legs swaying.

Every grunt-filled plow of his cock had you wailing. Silco got his wish to see you disheveled underneath him and you got your wish to be spread like a whore, walls painted filthily with the thick brush of the cruel artist that wielded it inside you.

You pinched yourself around Silco harder as the fire snapped in your lower half.

Silco’s curled forward and stood on his knees, pinching your body, penetration sputtered as he vocally released himself in thick ropes. Vision blurred, your mouth dropping open in a wide oval with one last tapered moan, as your cunt was filled up.

Relaxing back down onto his calves, the man above you stretched his neck up to the ceiling and huffed down his fill of well needed air.

His shirt was drenched at the armpits and collar while his rolling stomach glistened with a sheen of sweat, a few drops crawling down the space of his chest. Then he peered down and took in the blissfully disgraced sight laid below, cock still shoved inside pussy.

“Was that what you imagined in the painting?” he exhaled.

You were too spent, so a brief nod would have to do.

[linesfromzaun]

Seeing this between your thighs……..

ANYWAYS

[angelltheninth]

Quaking with Lust

Pairing: Silco x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, reunion sex, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, making out, rough oral sex, hair-pulling (for Reader), degrading nicknames but in an affectionate way (slut, whore)

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: This was a commissioned fic. Silco smut is always a lot of fun to write.

You sat in the living room, counting down the minutes until Silco would be home. You were so excited to see him after he'd taken several day to take care of Shimmer supply issue. Such things were becoming few and far between with Sevika's help but you still knew you'd miss him whenever he would leave.

The door to the house opened, followed by the familiar thump of his shoes. You raced off the couch and into the narrow hallway to see him in the middle of taking off his signature coat. "Aren't you a nice welcome gift." The corner of his lips twitched upward as you walked up and enveloped him into a tight hug.

"Took you long enough. How was the trip?" You mumbled the question into his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around your frame.

"Mostly uneventful. It's getting tedious repeating myself all the time. Usually I'd have your pretty face and voice to calm me down afterwards."

"I could have told you that much." You gave him a brief kiss on his scarred face, the pressure just enough to make him lean towards you for more.

He turned his head to return the kiss, aiming for your cheek but catching your lips. Not he minded, he missed the feeling of yours soft lips pressing against his. Not just your lips either. His hand was on the back of your neck quickly, preventing you from moving away even if you wanted to as he deepened the kiss, his tongue massaging yours.

"Jinx here?" He asked quickly breaking the kiss and looking past the hallway.

"Not tonight. Important explosion experiments as she put it. Which works out very well for us." You tugged on his tightly fitting collar, fingers working on undoing the buttons of his vest.

"For now. Until Sevika comes barging in with-" You silenced him with a firm kiss, which he returned immediately. One of his grabbed at your hip the other already lowering your pants, "No panties darling? How bold of you."

If you wore them they'd only get ruined, shame to waste them especially when a lot of your underwear was hand-picked by Silco.

"Did you behave while I was away?" He cooed against your lips, "You didn't touch yourself did you?"

"N-No. And it torture. I've been waiting for you to touch me all this time. So please." You clenched your legs around his hand as his fingers come into contact with your pussy, coated with your arousal. "Please make me come, I've been such a good- ah!" He was already finger deep before you even got the words out.

"You're right. You've been such a good slut. Patiently waiting for me to claim what's mine." Silco pulled back to see your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glossy and lips swollen and parted, "Aren't you needy? Your cunt's gripping me so tightly, it's making it hard for me to move. Do you want me to fuck you properly or not?"

"It's your fault for ordering me to wait." You moaned as you bucked your hips into his hand, your arousal dripping onto the floor. "Maybe if you did your job properly and fucked my when I asked you to we wouldn't have this problem."

His eyes narrowed at you, eye shining a fiery orange color, "Maybe you need a reminder of whose in charge around here. If I have to fuck the discipline into you I will." Silco pushed another finger into your cunt, his eyes unable to leave your flushed face. "A slut like you needs to be fucked well every once in a while."

"Once in a while? Try all the damn time." You whimpered, helpless against his thrusts, "If you're gonna call me a slut then fuck me like one."

Silco chuckled, low and dangerous as his eyes darkened with lust, "As you wish then." His words, his threat barely registered in your brain before you felt his hand moving in and out in furious, wild, yet purposeful thrusts.

"Fuck, that's so good. You're amazing at this." You whimpered, breathing against his neck, "So good. Gods I need more!" You rolled your hips against his palm, feeling the vanishing pressure against your clit. Silco hummed at your words, as eager as ever to make you come. "Yes! There, there! I'm gonna come, just keep fucking my-! Silco, fuck!" You stammered, the wave of your orgasm crashing over you, throwing your senses into overdrive. Silco didn't slow down, but kissed his way down your neck, slowly leaving beautiful little marks on your skin.

"So pretty when you come my darling." His tongue licked over the hollow of your throat, "I'd like to see it again. Can you go again?" He already knew you can just by the way your walls twitched and spasmed around his fingers.

"Hang on. Need to take care of this first." Your hand cupped his bulge, your knees already lowering to the floor, hands back on his torso to undo his shirt fully. Expertly you unbuckled his belt, planting kisses on his trousers, the outline of his cock twitching more with every kiss. Once his pants are down you repeated the same over his underwear.

Silco sighed in relief, his eyes half closed as he ran his clean hand through your hair. The tug came as a surprise, you hissed in pain as you felt yourself be pulled away from his cock. He looked down at you with a scolding expression.

"Did I say you could have my cock?" His tone was flat yet commanding, stern, "No. Little whores like you should do as they're told and only as they're told."

"You need me to beg?"

"Not at all. I need you wait and take what I give you." Your mouth opens easily for his slick fingers, "Easy. You're so easy when you're horny." He spreads the leftovers of your orgasm along your tongue, the pads of his fingers pressing along the muscle, "Let me see you suck." He didn't even need to order you. The taste of yourself in his fingers made your pussy clench around nothing, your clit twitch in need.

Your mouth closed around his long fingers, Silco's other hand grabbed you by the chin and keeping your head still. His fingers moved rapidly in and out, cutting of your moans as soon as they tore from your lungs.

Through teary eyes you still managed to pull his underwear down and rub your thumb, a feather like touch compared to what you usually do to him in his office. "Greedy little-" Silco lets out a growl when you form a circle around his broad head with your your hand, turning your wrist to spread his cum around. "You want this dick so badly?"

"I do." You admitted as he ripped his wet fingers out of your mouth, "I kept thinking about it, about you all the time while you were away. Please. I can't take it anymore. Silco." You whined his name and looked up at him with pleading eyes that you knew were his weakness.

"You vixen. You know I'll you anything you want when you look at me like that." His hand lowered and squeezed around your throat just enough to make you gasp, "You could ask me to go to war with Piltover and I would. Are you aware just how much power I'm allowing you to have over me? They even started to question me, bunch of fools." His grip tightened, fingers back in your mouth, making you choke on the ferocity of him, "And here you are. All that power and what do you do with it? You beg to be fucked, hit, crempied, tied up, used. Don't even try to deny it."

"All of it." You choke out around his fingers, "I want all of it."

"And do you know what that makes you? Go on say it? What are you?" He hisses as he asks.

You know exactly what he wants to hear, you've played this game before, you know how he likes it, how you love it, "I'm a greedy slut that needs to be punished."

"Right you are darling." He gave you a satisfied smirk before he let you go and pulled his pants back up, "Come get your punishment then." All he needed to do was hook his fingers toward him for you to follow like a puppy.

You didn't take your eyes off him for a moment, drinking him in like he might disappear. The sound of the bedroom door frightened you out of your haze. Step after step you followed him inside.

"Make yourself comfortable." Code for take your clothes off and spread your legs. You wasted no time doing exactly that. Your hands gripped the soft sheets as you sat in the middle of the bed, your face even more flushed then before, your legs spread open for Silco's eyes.

He had a clear view of your glistening pussy clenching desperately around nothing, your clit twitching and pulsing, needing to be touched. Not a moment went by when he wasn't looking at you, not even when he was taking his clothes off. This was too much of a routine for him to need to look anywhere else but your beautiful, sexy body.

Silco moved towards you, coming to kneel before you, looking down at you, at how your clit twitched from the attention of his gaze.

"I've neglected you a little over the past week." He spoke as he tapped on your clit with his index finger, "Don't worry, I'll give you all the attention you desire. You've earned it. Been a good girl for me haven't you?"

"Yeah." You breathed out, your hips shaking as he continued to absentmindedly tap at your clit, "So why do you keep teasing me?"

"All good things to those who wait sweetheart." Silco's finger pressed against your clit hard. You let out a nearly broken moan, "Good point. You've waited long enough. I'm not that cruel of a man. To a select few that is." With hooded eyes you watched Silco slide down on the bed, time seeming to slow as his lips approach where you need them most. The first flick of his tongue over your folds was enough to send you into a lustful frenzy.

You bucked them up into his mouth as soon as your felt his lips wrap around your clit. Both your hands tugged and pulled in his hair as his tongue was pushed deep inside of you, his nose brushing against your clit as he moved his head back and forth.

"You taste so sweet, I feel like I haven't had you in so long." He cooed while still licking in out at a steady rhythm. You moaned, your head turned against the pillow as you tried to keep your legs from squeezing his head. "Are you gonna be a good girl and beg or do I have to fuck that out of you too?"

"Fuck. Give it to me. Please, all this time all I wanted was your cock. I've been so good. Please, oh, please Silco!" The string of words left your mouth with zero shame. And why would you be ashamed of the truth? You aren't, not with the promise of his hard cock filling you up.

You whimpered at the loss of his tongue, only for it to trail away into a moan when the broad, swollen tip of his cock teased against your opening. Silco's eyes closed in bliss when his cock was welcomed back in your cunt by your velvety walls. Squeezing, tightening and pulsing around his length, stimulated from earlier, biting your lip was all you could do to keep yourself from coming.

"Don't hold back on my account. I know how badly your slutty hole missed my cock. Let go, give me your everything, haven't earned at least that already?" Shit. You wanted to make it last, yet Silco's eyes, his voice, his hands rubbing your sides, his cock in your pussy, the stretch and the pounding so familiar, you couldn't hold back against him.

Your hips launched off the bed, Silco's grip being the only thing keeping you grounded, or as grounded as he could have given how mercilessly he was hammering his cock into your gushing hole. Warm, sweaty flesh slapped against one another, Silco's eyebrows frowning as sweat began to run down his forehead. You didn't have to ask for this. Other things? Yeah, he loved to hear you beg. But his cum shoot deep into your shaking womb? He'll give you that no questions asked.

The sound of your name was the only thing that left his mouth for the next minute as he fucked his seed into you, making a complete mess of the bed in the process.

When he was done and spent he collapsed onto your chest, his breathing heavy, both of you slick from sweat and other fluids. "Does that make up for my absence darling?" He laughed out.

"Almost."

"Almost?" Silco hunched up on his elbows, "What more do you want?"

"A kiss." You answered with a bright smile.

"Ah." He smiled back just as big, "That I can do." His lips were soft on yours, pressing against them to soothe.

"Welcome home darling." You whispered, kissing him again and again, neither of you able to stop until you were absolutely sure you left no spot unkissed.

[zoeykallus]

Arcane - Little Flower 35 - The Weight Of A Decision

Silco x female!reader

Warning: Tension /Angsty

__________

Author's Comment:

There are decisions that are never easy. The reader must make one of these decisions. Silco doesn't necessarily make things easier at first.

The next chapter will be the last one for this story.

__________

What Happened Before:

Little Flower (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 2 - Safe And Sound

Little Flower Part 3 - Cupidos (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 4 - Before You Killed Me (Violence 18+)

Little Flower Part 5 - Carried By Our Desolation (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 6 - The Morning After (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 7 - Love And War (Smut 18+

Little Flower Part 8 - Who We Really Are (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 9 - What We Deserve

Little Flower Part 10 - Liar

LittleFlower part 11 - Curiosity Killed The Cat

Little Flower Part 12 - Blood Bath (18+ Violence)

Little Flower Part 13 - Aftermath (18+ Smut)

Little Flower Part 14 - Backlash

Little Flower Part 15.1 - The Punishment Of Our Sins

Little Flower Part 15.2 - The Punishment Of Our Sins (18+)

Little Flower Part 16 - South Of Heaven

Little Flower Part 17 - A Turn Of Events (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 18 - A Bond Without A Future

Little Flower Part 19 - Tick Tock (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 20 - Wedding Night (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 21 - Back In Town

Little Flower Part 22 - Stressed Out (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 23 - Calm Moments

Little Flower Part 24 - Smoke And Fire (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 25 - Filth (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 26 - Sweet Comfort Of Love

Little Flower Part 27 - Stupid Ideas

Little Flower Part 28 - To Raise A Hand

Little Flower Part 29 - Stand Your Ground

Little Flower Part 30 - Never Again

Little Flower Part 31 - Everything You Want (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 32 - A Long Night (Smut 18 +)

Little Flower Part 33 - Influence

Little Flower Part 34 - Revelations

Part 35 - The Weight Of A Decision

To your discomfort, Silco had not talked to you about the mysterious topic that Sevika wanted to discuss with him alone. You hadn't really asked him, nor pressed him about it. There were still things you thought maybe you were better off not knowing.

However, Silco was acting differently than usual, more somber, more thoughtful, distracted. The day of the meeting with Talis had arrived and you were sitting next to Silco in a chair behind his desk, closer to the action this time, Silco had insisted.

You didn't know what this meant, but you didn't question it either, at least not verbally.

Silco looked at you and said, "You are my partner, your place is at my side," as if he had heard the unspoken question in your mind.

You were about to say something in reply, but at the same moment there was a knock at the door and Silco asked the guest to come in.

Talis entered the room, followed by what seemed to be a bodyguard and a small gaunt man carrying a briefcase. Talis, as always, carried his youthful energy, in front of him, his own charm. He smiled cautiously and nodded to both of you. You returned the gesture, but Silco remained motionless in his chair.

"Please" said the eye of Zaun "Come closer, sit down".

Talis did as he was told and sat down in the visitor's chair, the two men with him, remained standing behind him.

Sevika stood leaning against the windowsill to the left behind you.

Talis looked around, his gaze moving from you to Sevika and then to Silco.

"I assume Sevika has already spoken to you," he spoke to Silco.

Your husband nodded and said, "I'm in the picture".

Talis looked at you, "Then I assume you are also in the picture".

You blinked and tried to meet his scrutinizing gaze.

"I wasn't enlightened, no" you said a little pressed.

Talis frowned in surprise.

"I must admit that surprises me," he said, turning to Silco, "Is there any particular reason for that?"

Talis suspected that Silco didn't want to share his power under any circumstances, that he hadn't told you yet was anything but a good sign in his eyes.

Silco sighed and replied, "I haven't known about it for long, to be honest I don't really know what to make of it myself, so I haven't talked to her about it yet."

Talis said, "Don't you think she should have found out about it anyway?"

Silco's gaze fixed Talis seriously as he said, "She'll find out soon enough."

You straightened up in your chair and cleared your throat.

"It would be really nice if we could stop talking about me like I'm not present. Either you enlighten me now, or I will no longer take part in this meeting" you said seriously in a firm voice "Then you can beat around the bush as much as you like for all I care."

Sevika behind you smiled contentedly, she liked that you were no longer such a sneak.

Talis smiled and said apologetically "It was not my intention to be disrespectful, you are right of course. The reason I am here today is for the most part you."

You held your breath for a moment and suppressed the impulse to look questioningly at Silco. A heartbeat or two later, though, you had yourself back in control and said, "I see. So what exactly is this about?"

"About you getting a seat on the Piltover Council, with Silco as your advisor."

Many things became clear to you at once. Silco was upset that he was left out, that he would not be the one sitting in the council, he would be "only" an advisor. He didn't like sharing his power, not at all, not even with you, you realized, and that was unpleasantly sobering.

"Hmm, now I know why I wasn't told about it," you said quietly, casting a somber look at Silco, who suddenly seemed to grow a little smaller in his chair.

You sighed and said, "I may have always held back, but I'm not stupid. The choice fell on me because my face is presentable in Piltover, no negative things are associated with me so far, neither in Zaun nor in the upper town. I don't know much about politics, I've never been very interested in it, that's well known, that's why Silco shall act as my advisor".

Talis nodded: "That's right, I knew you were smart".

"Stop sucking up," you grumbled in a bad mood, but your anger wasn't really directed at him, but at Silco.

Talis cleared his throat awkwardly and remained silent. All of a sudden you were the person in the room who everyone was listening to and whose decision was important.

You looked at Silco and said, "You don't like being the second line, that's why you didn't tell me. You don't want to be behind me, you want to be in the center of attention."

Silco awkwardly adjusted his tie and avoided your gaze, but finally looked at you and said harshly, "I didn't know what to make of it, yes, I admit that, but I don't harbor any jealousy towards you."

"You think it's true, you want it to be true, but it's not, I can see it clearly in your face and I don't think it would work out in the long run."

Talis asked uncertainly, "Does that mean you're turning down the council position?"

"No, I haven't decided yet, I'm still weighing the risks" you returned "I don't want to ruin my marriage over this decision. We've already had our difficulties to work on and I don't know how much my husband loves me, if it's enough to carry this decision with me should I agree"

Talis looked from one to the other and was silent for a moment.

Silco looked at you in surprise, seeming a little sad and overwhelmed at the same time.

Talis said seriously, "Well, no matter what you decide, there is still something we need to discuss".

"And that is?" you asked.

"Jinx, her attack on the Piltover courthouse has shaken up and shocked the population, it cannot go unpunished."

"I will not turn my daughter in," Silco said directly.

You reached under the table for his hand and he immediately squeezed it gently and gratefully.

"Jinx made a mistake, she... has problems, she needs help, imprisonment will neither improve nor solve those problems, what happened is not really her fault" you said "Jinx will not be turned over. If that is a condition that would be attached to this agreement, then we can end the conversation immediately."

Talis sighed and said, "No, it's not a requirement, but something has to be done. In any case, it looks better if the problem is tackled than if we try to sweep it under the rug."

You looked at Silco and said, "He's not entirely wrong. What happened is not so easy to ignore"

Silco stiffened and let go of your hand again.

"What exactly does that mean?" he asked harshly.

"Just that we should think about how we're going to deal with it" you said calmly.

Silco sighed, grabbed your hand again and said. "I already have. I want to get her professional help, therapy, so to speak. It won't be easy and I hate to admit it, but you were right when you said that the way she grew up with me was not healthy for her."

Surprised, you looked at him, but you smiled, proud that he no longer wanted to be blind to Jinx's problems.

Talis said, "Well that would be a start. We need to make sure this never happens again or Zaun will lose its place on the council much faster than it opened up."

You nodded in agreement, that was understandable.

"What about the decision," Talis finally asked "Do you need some more time or can we go over the papers and sign?"

You looked at Silco who gently squeezed your hand and said "It's fine. Whatever you decide, I've got your back."

You took a deep breath and said, "Zaun needs an advocate, we've lived in the shadow of the upper city long enough. Once I have read the papers and found them to be in order, I would agree to the offer"

You could see Talis breathe a sigh of relief and finally wave the little man with the briefcase over to him.

The papers were in order as far as you could tell, all that was required of you was to act to the best of your ability in the best interests of both cities and to uphold the integrity of the council.

When you had signed the papers, Talis said: "Tomorrow evening a meeting is scheduled, together with a small ceremony in which the admission of the representative of Zaun is to be celebrated. If you agree, a small delegation of security guards will pick you and Silco up two hours before."

You nodded, looked again at Silco who also nodded and said, "We will be ready".

@puffball-lover554

@sparrow-rise

@mikariell95

@mywckdmind

@zaunsin

@livin-sarahs-dream

@jennrosefx

@tangytastyflatboard

@waddles2020

@jinns-arcane-feverdream

@wokensiren

@ellhd-imagination

@arrlaauud

@fuzzy-panda

[ever-darling]

The Dangers of Business - Ch. 1

Silco x Fem!reader| Explicit NSFW | 18+

Romance (?) | Smut | Immediate Attraction | Ballsy Tattoo Artist Reader

Read on Ao3

100% thought I already posted this on here but apparently I didn't, so here ya go.

Without much thought about it, you call out to him as he reaches for the door. “Silco.” He drops his hand and glances at you with his good eye. “Thank you,” you say softly. You can tell it catches him off guard even though he has no visible reaction. He puzzles over the sentiment before he asks, “For what, exactly?” You hadn’t thought that far ahead, so you cover up your own carelessness with a huff. “For not killing me, I guess.” “Killing you isn’t off the table should you disobey the terms of our agreement.”

Or, in which you put your foot in your mouth and still somehow get laid.

Chapter 1

You really should have known not to indulge the whims of an impetuous teenaged girl you’ve never met, but almost as soon as she plops herself down across from you and leans over the table with a wide smile and electric, blue eyes filled with awe, she pretty much has you wrapped around her little finger. There’s something about this kid that flashes “DANGER” in big, red letters across your brain. You really should have listened to them. Only problem is, she’s so studiously engrossed in the menagerie of tattoos that adorn your arms and neck that a deep-seated amusement pushes away any ill omens that might have saved you.

“See something you like?” you ask, a wry smile pulling at your lips.

She scrunches up her freckled nose. “Not really into older women.”

Your bark of laughter seems to surprise her - almost like she's not used to anyone laughing with (or at?) her. She eyes you, unsure.

“I meant the ink, kid,” you manage.

“Oh.” She snorts and clasps her hands together. “In that case, I think I need a closer look.”

Nevermind the fact that you’re in the middle of a late lunch, apparently. If it wasn’t your day off, you’d shoo her away, but what would be the harm in letting her get a closer look at your art? She’s just admiring what’s meant to be admired, after all. So, with one arm held out to the girl, you attempt to finish your sandwich without losing all of the contents in your lap.

The girl gasps and jumps up on the table with the nimble reflexes of a cat to tug your offered arm close in an astonishingly firm grip. As she studies your many years of work, you take the opportunity to study her as well.

She can’t be older than fourteen or fifteen - still in that awkward stage on the way from puberty to adulthood. Her blue, braided hair looks like it would hang right around her knees. It didn’t seem to get in the way as she leapt onto the table, though. Impressive.

You eye a couple of guns holstered to her belt with steadily increasing interest. The guns aren’t surprising in and of themselves, but what is surprising is the quality of them, considering her age. You didn’t get your hands on gear like that until you were halfway through your twenties. And, well, you weren’t exactly content to scrape by with the shit pay in the mines back then.

“Where’d you get this one?” the girl asks, pointing to one of your favorites on your forearm. You smile as you remember the painstaking hours you’d spent designing it. 

Your inspiration was an old, Ionian painting of a mystical fox that you’d found on one of your raids Topside. You’d lost it some years ago in a fire that was started by Enforcers, but you still have its memory every time you look at the black fox on your arm running through sunset-colored clouds.

“I did that one myself,” you say.

The girl turns her wide eyes to you. “You did? Just this one?”

“Nope, I did almost all of them.”

She gasps and tugs you closer, the brunt of the force punching your gut straight into the edge of the table. You try not to wheeze.

“You’re the artist? Perfect!” She turns your arm over to look at the rest of the tattoo. “Oh, he’ll be so surprised. And it’ll look so pretty.” She looks up. “How much?”

Given that you’re only just managing to breathe again, you followed exactly none of that. “How much what?”

She jabs a finger at the clouds. “How much for this? On me?”

“Oh, uh…” you glance down at the detailing on the clouds. You may be proud of that one, but you can sure as hell do better now. “Depends on how big you want it and the detailing and color.”

The girl releases your arm and you sink back on the bench with a wince. She flops back, crosses her legs, and scrunches up her face again. Only a moment passes before she leans forward, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“I want them in different sizes. ALL over.”

You tilt your head. “I’m gonna need some more than that or you won’t be happy with it.”

“Ugh,” the girl rolls her eyes and her entire body follows the motion. “So much work.”

“That does tend to be how tattoos go.”

She pouts. “Got any paper?”

You’re about to say no when you spot your unused napkin. With a grin, you hold it up to her.

You don’t really expect her to take it, but she snatches it from you and pulls out two crayons: one blue and one pink. Definitely a theme of colors on this one. She uses the pink to sketch a crude drawing that only vaguely resembles a person, but she clarifies that it’s her with long, blue braids. You quickly finish your lunch and wipe your hands on your pants, watching as the kid adds blue sort-of clouds on various parts of the figure’s upper body and arms.

When she’s finished, she holds it up with a wide grin. “Like that!”

You raise your brows as you take the napkin. “Do you have any tattoos now?”

“Nope!”

You huff, another amused smile pulling at your lips. “That’s a lot of ink for your first time, kid. Maybe you should think on it a while.”

“I want that,” she points at the napkin with a spark of impatience in her eyes. “Can you do it or not?”

“Yeah, kid, I can do it. It’ll take a while to design, though, and probably multiple sessions.”

“Blah, blah, whatever. You’ve got until Wednesday.”

You blink up at her, caught somewhere between scorn and disbelief. “I’ve already got clients coming in on Wednesday, I can’t just-”

The girl grabs a pouch and plops it in front of you. It jingles enticingly when it lands.

“That enough to get you to shut up and do it?”

Well. You shouldn’t be surprised the girl is packing, given her gear, but you are. A big chunk of coins is a very good argument, but all the same…

You prop your elbow up on the table. “That’s not gonna cover the ink. Just the design and-”

“Holy hell,” the girl groans and flops to her back with an arm draping dramatically over her forehead. “How can I get you to stop talking?”

“Alright, fine.” You cross your arms. “Come in after hours on Wednesday. But if you want these, you’re going to have to sit through at least three sessions spread out over multiple weeks.”

The girl peeks at you from under her arm, scowling. “Why?”

“Because if you get it all at once, you’re gonna fuck up the healing process - and you’ll have to be wrapped in plastic for a long time, which is going to interfere with firing those pretty guns of yours. That means no target practice and no antagonizing Enforcers.”

She sits up. “What if I do all of that anyway?”

“If you want to waste your money, be my guest. I ain’t your mum. But if you want them to turn out well, you’re gonna have to be patient.”

She holds your no-nonsense stare with a petulant pout for so long that you wonder if she’ll pick someplace else to get her ink. There must be something about you she likes, though, because she can’t hold back a bright, child-like laugh.

“Alright,” she says and holds her hand out. “You win.”

You return her smile and take her hand. Something devilishly mischievous flashes in her eyes and you second-guess your decision to even acknowledge the girl, but in a blink, she’s up and saluting you as she walks away.

“See ya Wednesday, Ink Lady!”

“Hold up, kid,” you call. “You don’t even know where my studio is!”

“The name’s Jinx - and yes, I do!”

Then she disappears into the crowd.

You sit there for a while, contemplating the entire interaction with a strange mix of confusion, amusement, and maybe a touch of nervousness, but not before you tuck the pouch of hexes into your pocket. Can’t have anyone getting any ideas.

The plans you made for the night fade into unimportance as you stare at the napkin, mind whirling with the possibilities. Even though Jinx only wants clouds, you have to make sure they work together with her… energy.

So, instead of meeting your old pals for a wild night of drinking and poker, you go home, napkin in hand, and start brainstorming.

---

When Wednesday rolls around, you find yourself dreading the day before you even get out of bed. Not because you aren’t excited to see Jinx - quite the opposite, really. 

The clients you have ahead of you are much more, well, boring. And grumpy. They don’t pay as well, either.

You had expected Jinx’s bribe to be bronze and copper hexes - maybe a silver or two in there somewhere - but instead, every single one of the hexes were gold. It was a miracle you didn’t pass out when you saw it. She gave you enough for two sessions at least… No need to tell her that, though. If she’s comfortable enough to throw that kinda coin around, who are you to argue?

The day drags on slowly and terribly with clients that are, at best, apathetic. You start to worry that you won’t have the energy for Jinx, but as soon as you finish your last client of the day, you get a blessed second wind. You’re ready for Jinx when she comes in.

“Hellooooo Ink Lady!” she shouts as she bursts through the door with a dazzling grin.

“Hey, Jinx,” you smile back and hold up your notebook with the final designs. “What do you think?”

Jinx bounds over, grabs the notebook, and gasps. She spins around, her braids narrowly missing a couple slaps to your face.

“They’re perfect!” She holds the notebook up beside her face and points at one of the clouds. “I want this one,” she turns around and points over her shoulder to her shoulder blade. “Right here.”

She’s wearing a slightly more concealing top than when you first met her, you realize. It’s still cropped, but it’ll cover the tattoo, if that’s what she wants. You wonder for a moment if she’s hiding it from anyone in particular, but in this job - hell, in this city - you’ve learned that the less you know, the better.

“Take a seat over there, then,” you motion toward a padded, adjustable bench that’s configured as a chair. She does so with an excited skip, plopping down backwards and propping herself on her arms like she’s a regular. Once you’re sure you have the shade of blue that she wants, you get to work.

Jinx is calm the whole time; she doesn’t so much as flinch. The first tattoo only takes you an hour. She’s so happy with that one that she requests another one on the opposite side - smaller and a little lower.

By the time you’re done, you’re both grinning from ear-to-ear. Her, because she’s so happy with the result. You, because she won’t stop gushing about it (and okay, maybe also because she pays you twice the amount you would normally charge without even asking how much you want).

“You’re the best, Ink Lady,” she says on her way out.

Over the next couple of months, you repeat the routine with the same results. Every time Jinx comes in, she’s added another piece of clothing to cover the part of her skin she wants tattooed. It’s a little disappointing not to see your work out on display, but you figure she’ll get around to it eventually. When you ask her about it at the start of your third session, she just says, “I wanna surprise him!”

Usually that’s code for ‘I’m not allowed to get these but I’m doing it anyway,’ so you opt not to press the matter and hope that whoever receives this surprise doesn’t come for your head. Dangers of business, you suppose.

---

You think you’re in the clear once you approach your last session with her, but a few days before the appointment, an unexpected visitor drops by. The bell at the front of your shop jingles as you’re working on an intricate design on a client’s lower back.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” you say, not wanting to stop in the middle of your current stroke.

The voice that responds is positively dripping with power and quiet, self-assured confidence. “I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to being kept waiting.”

Your client jerks backwards, destroying the line you were working on. You curse as he tries to get out of the chair only to fall over his own feet and take some of your tools with him to the ground. 

Fists ready to deck the idiot who caused this, you face the door - but as soon as you do, the words die on your tongue. You’ve never actually seen him in person but there is no mistaking who he is.

His eyes are just as striking in their dichotomy as the rumors say. His features, just as sharp. His aura - that magnetic pull that inexplicably surrounds him - just as intimidating. Everything about him is almost exactly as you’ve heard, save one. The rumors grossly underestimate how attractive this man is. How positively saturated in sex appeal he is. You might just be content to frame his image and stare at it until you waste away to nothing.

King of the Lanes. Eye of Zaun. Leader of the chem-barons. Liberator of the Undercity.

Silco.

Your client scrambles to his feet and tries to make a run for it, snapping you back to attention. You latch onto your client’s wrist with your nails digging into his skin just shy of drawing blood.

“I finished half your tattoo,” you say coldly. “You’re not leaving until you pay for it.”

Your words seem to surprise everyone there - even you. After all, why should you be concerned with money when you’re probably about to die?

Rather than argue or count the proper amount, the man shoves his hand into his pocket, grabs a handful of coins, and throws it onto the ground. Then he wrenches his arm free and books it, probably never to return. The irritation of a lost client overrides your sense of self-preservation and you turn fiery eyes to your unexpected guest.

“Is there something I can help you with, Silco?”

His gaze remains unreadable aside from an underlying anger toward you that can’t possibly be justified.

You haven’t done anything to interfere with him or the barons - you pay your dues on time and without complaint. In fact, it’s no secret that you support Silco’s endeavors. You just don’t have the influence or resources that could help the cause directly and your fighting days are long behind you. Can’t make a living off of art with broken fingers.

Silco makes a gesture over his shoulder and two goons that you hadn’t noticed at the door take up posts outside, leaving you and the kingpin alone. That is probably a very bad sign, especially with the way he’s glaring at you and your heartbeat is picking up pace with more than just fear, but you distract yourself by picking up your tools and let the familiar motions of disinfecting them soothe you. Silco watches you for a long, heavy moment before he speaks again with that sinful voice.

“Are you always so flippant when confronted with a situation that overtly spells out the possibility of your death?”

You look up from taking apart your tattoo gun. “Perhaps if you tell me what I’ve done to put myself in this deadly situation, I’d be less inclined to be so flippant.”

Oh, he doesn’t like that. His good eye narrows and his mouth pinches at the corners and you know it should scare you but it doesn’t. And the fact that it doesn’t is what actually scares you. Because if you’re not scared of him and his temper, then you’re a fucking fool.

Silco prowls forward and grabs your wrist to hold it up. “Perhaps this jogs your memory?”

You resist the urge to free yourself and instead glance at your arm. Does he mean your fox tattoo? Surely he couldn’t have tracked you down because of an old painting…

Then it dawns on you. The endless amounts of coin, the tiptoeing around who she was hiding the tattoos from. Your lips part and you look up at the kingpin in a new light. Throughout everything he’s done, all of the sacrifices he’s made… he’s also a father. You breathe out her name as though saying it too loud would disturb the quiet that often settles over the hour just before dawn.

“Jinx.”

His tone turns patronizing as he tightens his grip - not painfully, but in a warning. “Clever girl. Perhaps you’d like to explain to me why you let a child waltz in off the street to get tattooed without supervision?”

“Child?” you frown. Even despite you calling her a kid all the time, child seems far too juvenile a word for her. “Jinx is practically a grown woman. Plenty old enough to get a tattoo if she wants.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

“Last I checked, there are no age restrictions on tattoos in Zaun.”

“You went behind my back for months,” he snarls and tightens his hold even further. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

You place your free hand on your hip, thoroughly unimpressed with his rather unoriginal display of fatherly protectiveness, or whatever. It’s neither the first nor last time you’ve seen it.

“Are you saying you came all the way here to yell at me because you’re brassed that Jinx has been hiding this from you? How the fuck is that my fault?”

“You should have known-”

“I can’t read minds, Silco!”

He snaps his mouth shut and glares down at you with barely-contained fury. Both at you for your interruption and, you think, at himself for losing even just a shred of his control. Now his grip is painful, but you hardly notice.

You continue evenly, “She didn’t mention that she wasn’t allowed to get tattoos - or even that she had a father. Not that it would have made a difference.”

Silco pulls you forward so that only an inch of space is left between you, forcing you to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

“So you admit it.”

“Admit what?” You try to pull your arm from his hold, but he doesn’t budge. “That I’ll give anyone a tattoo so long as they’re in their right mind and have the coin? Yeah. I've had kids in here younger than Jinx - the only difference is that she’s your daughter.”

As soon as it’s out of your mouth you wish you can take it back. Not because it isn’t true, but because it’s an accusation you’ve just spit at the most dangerous and powerful man in Zaun - and he isn’t well-known for being merciful. Far from your finest moment. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to take it back, and Silco is probably too stubborn to let you try. His anger becomes dark and cold - and that much more arousing terrifying.

“You really haven’t a care for your own life, have you?” he asks, voice sickly sweet. “I would suggest you refrain from any further insolence and take a seat.”

A small part of you wants to ignore the order, but you recognize this as the last strand of Silco’s patience, so once he lets go of you, you sink down in your chair with your chin up to keep your eyes locked with his. Obedience you can do but you will not be broken by it - not for a grievance as petty as this. Silco turns his attention away from you to instead study your workspace with mild disinterest.

“How many more tattoos have you promised her?”

The question catches you off-guard. You frown. “We only have one more session.”

“That’s not what I asked, is it?” he snaps and leans over you, forcing your gaze even higher. “Try again. How many tattoos have you promised her?”

You swallow and try (unsuccessfully) to ignore how his position reveals another tantalizing inch of his neck. Shit. You need to focus.

“I’m not sure,” you say as you drag your eyes up to meet his. (Which he definitely notices, gods be damned). “She requests a different number every session.”

He searches your eyes for something specific and you hope you don’t reveal anything that’ll get your hand chopped off. You aren’t sure whether or not he finds what he’s looking for when he finally straightens and saunters around you until he’s out of your field of vision. As much as you want to keep your eyes on him, something tells you it’s in your best interests to stay still.

“I will allow you to have a final session with Jinx under certain conditions,” he says. He moves again but it’s only by the sound of his voice that you realize he’s moving closer. “First, you will not mention my relation to Jinx to anyone. I will know if you do.”

You refrain from pointing out that he wouldn’t need to worry about that if he hadn’t stormed into your place of business like a petulant child, and instead say, “Wouldn't dream of it, Sir.”

Silco places his hands on the back of your chair and a thrum of energy moves through you as it shifts under his weight. You grip your pants in clenched fists to keep your hands from visibly trembling.

“As soon as the session is over, you will not speak to or even look at Jinx without my express permission. Is that clear?”

“What if she comes to me fir-”

Silco tugs the chair back and hisses directly into your ear, “Is that clear?”

You can’t help the shiver or the goosebumps or the way your eyelids flutter when his breath touches your bare skin, but you try your damndest to answer evenly.

“Yes, Sir.”

It comes out almost as a whisper and you hold your breath with dread. Did he notice? If he did, he doesn’t react. In fact, he leans even closer so that his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, almost too soft to feel.

“Very good,” he purrs. “And since I am benevolently letting you walk away with your life and all of your fingers intact, you owe me one favor for every tattoo you gave her without my permission.”

Janna.

You try to swallow but your mouth goes dry. Is he doing this on purpose? Surely not. But - he can’t be blind to the effect this is having on you, can he?

“What sort of favors?” you ask, miraculously avoiding the desperate whine you feared would leave your mouth.

Silco backs away and says, “All in good time, my dear.”

Then, without so much as a glance in your direction as he passes, he leaves.

You stare after him for what could be hours, trying to ignore how empty the shop now feels without him commanding the space. Trying not to contemplate how his voice trailed sweet as honey through the air.

Eventually, you have enough presence of mind to lock up the parlor and go home. There will be no more work for you tonight. Even if your other clients do show up, which you doubt considering how fast the rumor mill moves in this part of the city, you know you won’t be able to concentrate.

That night, you fall asleep to the memory of his breath on your neck and his lips on your skin. It’s deplorable, how thoroughly he’s managed to consume your entire frame of mind. The thought alone of the ease with which he’d done so is what keeps you from using the memory to bring yourself some pleasure - and all you get for your reward is a sleepless night of sexual frustration the likes of which you’ve never before endured for anyone, let alone a fucking mob boss whom you’d never met until today.

It’s not until you wake the next morning with the sound of his voice still on your mind that you realize the hopeless position you’ve found yourself in.

You are (or you hope to be) well and truly fucked.

---

The day of your final session with Jinx is marked by an utter lack of motivation on the opposite spectrum as it had been on the first. You don’t want to even contemplate interacting with any of your clients, let alone sitting down to tattoo them, but without a distraction you fear you’ll simply run away and risk being killed on sight by any of Silco’s goons. So you go to work and take a dizzying spin on the roller coaster of “Please, Janna, let this torture end” and “Oh fuck, the time is moving too quickly and I could literally die the moment Jinx walks in.”

It’s so bad that before your last client leaves, you ask her for a couple of smokes, which she gives happily. You haven’t felt the need to alleviate your stress this way in years, but the combination of debilitating arousal and consuming fear at the thought of seeing Silco again… It’s with desperate abandon that you inhale all three of those cigarettes out back before you go inside to face the most dangerous test of your life. What you don’t expect is him to be waiting there already.

He stands to the side of the furniture-separated lobby, eyes roaming over the numerous photos of your past works decorating the wall and very pointedly not acknowledging you. Jinx is nowhere in sight. Has he changed his mind?

“Do you always show up late to appointments with your clients?” Silco asks smoothly and shifts to study another photo. You glance at the clock over the door with a scowl. Late by less than two minutes.

“Do you always materialize at the place of business of your supporters just to antagonize them with ridiculous questions?” you ask as you go to the sink to wash your hands. It might be better not to respond with your usual snark, but it’s either that or ask him to fuck you - there is no in between right now. Damn him. And damn your fucking gutter-brain.

“You’re a supporter now?” he trills. “I would have called you compliant, at best.”

Oh, you’ll give him compliant in every sense of the word if he just -

You turn around with a hand on your hip. “Where is Jinx?”

“Ah, now you’re concerned with your appointment,” he looks over his shoulder at you with his brow raised. You don’t dignify that with an answer.

He turns away from you again, his hands clasped behind his back. Your gaze traces his figure from the imposing collar of his coat down to his fingers as he picks at his nails absently. Something about him seems… different. Unsure isn’t quite the right word, but it comes close. You wait with baited breath until he finally speaks again - at the wall rather than to you.

“Jinx won’t be coming today.”

“Oh.” Your stomach drops. As much as you dreaded giving her another tattoo with the newfound knowledge that she’s Silco’s daughter, you have grown rather fond of her. “You’ve changed your mind, then?”

Silco sighs through his nose and once again faces you.

“No, she is… indisposed at the moment. She insisted I come to you so that you didn’t think she forgot.”

Your first thought is that you have no idea what to do with this information, considering whose mouth it’s coming from. He has hundreds of employees he could have sent in his stead, but here he is. Your second thought is, 

“Is she okay?”

Silco doesn’t respond right away but you see his calculations come to some sort of positive conclusion as his eyes soften the barest amount.

“She will be,” he says. Then, as if he realizes he gave too much away, he straightens and turns toward the door. “When she is able, she will come to you to reschedule.”

After a slight pause, in which you think he might have something else to say though he keeps it to himself, he strides toward the door. The whole interaction strikes you as pleasantly strange but somehow it feels incomplete. Without much thought about it, you call out to him as he reaches for the door.

“Silco.”

He drops his hand and glances at you with his good eye.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

You can tell it catches him off guard even though he has no visible reaction. He puzzles over the sentiment before he asks, “For what, exactly?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, so you cover up your own carelessness with a huff. “For not killing me, I guess.”

“Killing you isn’t off the table should you disobey the terms of our agreement.”

As if it could be called that. But he gave the threat with a glimmer of amusement that hasn’t yet faded from his eyes. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to see it, but something about it emboldens you. With leftover effects from your hungry devouring of those cigarettes, your inhibitions fall away.

“Well, if I do something to bring about my death at your hands, the least you can do is fuck me first.”

Shit, you said that out loud. It’s the second time in as many conversations with him that you wish you could eat your words or otherwise shrivel up and poof out of existence. You’re barely able to stop yourself before you apologize and it’s a miracle you can stand your ground as Silco stares at you with such carefully crafted neutrality that he must be hiding something. He clasps his hands behind his back and slowly turns toward you once again. The way his head tilts oh-so-slightly makes you feel like a mouse caught in a cat’s claws - and it thrills you. Terrifies you. All of it and more at once.

He stands there silently, staring at you until you’re sure your ears are red, but you don’t back down. It’s far too late for that. You don’t know how much time passes before the corners of his lips turn up into what is maybe a smirk.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, voice dark and dangerous and full of promise.

You’re unable to even form a coherent thought, let alone respond. Either he notices this and decides to give you some mercy or he loses patience in his little game, but he leaves without another word.

With both anticipation and a little dread, you realize tonight will be the first in a series of very long nights imagining just what he might do to you if you’re at his mercy. It’s probably unhealthy, but since when did you ever care about something like that? In this city, it’s take what you want or deal with the leftovers.

In this case, you refuse to deal with the leftovers. Even if doing so will earn you nothing but a gaping wound torn by the jaws of a beast - you’re not going to let such an immediate attraction slip through your grasp. You hope it doesn’t lead you to a painful death, but it’s not like you’re ever safe from such a thing in this city with your profession drawing people in all forms of perilous - from the righteous revolutionaries to the dirty scoundrels, it's all the same in the end.

It’s all just the dangers of business.

[ghoulofatook]

Angle of Approach - an Arcane/The Expanse Au - part one

Dedicated to, @of-the-argonath because they are 🎵 SIMPLY THE BEST 🎵 Tag List: @angxlictexrs @insomniac-silco-maniac

Silco in space x female medtech reader. You do not need to have seen/read The Expanse for this fic to make sense, IT'S SILCO IN SPACE! . This AU features Arcane characters blended into the The Expanse Universe (of course they are all belters). IT'S SILCO IN SPACE! ✨️

TW: Silco is a jerk, power imbalance, power dynamics, humiliation, exposure, drug use, medical procedures, syringes, drug administration.

Angle of Approach

The sublime vision of space stretches all around the tiny ship, making it seem like nothing more than an inconsequential grain of sand in the grand scheme of the endless pool of stars. Brilliant gaseous nebulas and brightly twinkling distant suns watch over the little vessel as it makes its way past, not unlike a lone ant crawling through the desolate and inhospitable desert.

A gentle orange light slowly begins to glow, dim and faint, like the first breath of a sunrise, through one tiny window.

“Good morning, the time is zero four hundred hours Earth Standard Time” You hear the serene female AI voice as it gently beckons you awake.

“We are on approach to our destination, Ceres Station. Estimated time of arrival, three days and seven hours.” The state of the art artificial intelligence m0113 adds helpfully.

Stirring from your slumber, you lay there in place with your eyes still sealed closed for a moment, breathing slowly and deeply.

You bend a heavy arm up to wipe your face and it creaks at the elbow and shoulder joints, long left unused while your body lay motionless, carefully preserved and monitored within in your stasis pod for the last six months while you slept, undreaming.

Your eyes feel crusty and dry under your hands but rubbing your face helps you slowly wake up, slitting your eyes open to a gentle warm orange glow specifically designed to help your body feel more awake.

You lay there taking a few deep breaths, extending your awareness around your limbs, slowly stretching and testing to be certain that your meat suit was in working order after being on the shelf for so long.

Sitting up was always the tricky part.

You take it as slowly as you can, using your arms to support yourself while pushing gently into an upright position. The vertigo still came hard and fast though and the nausea trailed in, hot on its heels.

You twist over just in time to heave a mouthful of acidic bile over the edge of the cryo pod. Panting with the effort and feeling the burn lacing your throat.

“Please take a moment to gather yourself before attempting to stand up” The AI suggests.

“Thanks.” You rasp dryly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You hear the door of your tiny quarters chime a soft alert that someone was about to enter. The automatic door whooshes gently open and you listen as footsteps curl slowly around the floor behind you.

“Ah, slow to rise I see.” Comes a deep smokey voice from behind you.

“Yes Sir” A flicker of annoyance courses through you that someone would breech the sanctity of your cryo recovery. Everyone knew it was a rough and deeply vulnerable process. It was cultural taboo to greet someone this soon after being thawed.

Your irritation is immediately given away by your quickened heartbeat and spike in cortisol levels displayed on the monitors overhead. So you promptly slip off the monitoring halo from your forehead while trying to keep your skull as still as possible, not willing to set off another vertigo attack.

You sit up a bit more and try to turn your head, painfully slowly. The orange light had slowly brightened during the time you had woken to light the room. More and more clearly, illuminating a tall, lean man before you.

Your bleary eyes clock his rank first, ornate gold wings adorning either side of his suit collar and your brows furrow in trepidation.

“Captain?” You acknowledge, gaze finally slipping up to his face, eyes widening slightly at the shocking scar carved from his lip up over his left eye to the forehead. Where the damaged eye should have been white, it was dark wet black, like a void. The Iris a burning orange ember that almost seemed as though it might be lit from within. It was in sharp contrast to his other undamaged eye, white and cold blue, now watching your reaction closely and slowly narrowing in displeasure.

You steel yourself, disappointed that you let yourself flinch at his disfigurement so obviously, right to his face. Way to impress the new boss.

He turns to pace towards the other side of the room, near your baggage stow and desk area.

“Normally I’d give my crew members more privacy during their reanimation protocols but I’m afraid I’m in need of your professional assistance sooner than intended.”

With your interest now piqued you sit up too quickly and the nausea slams your vision across through a nauseating repetition of planet rocking torture. The world seems to be shaking violently and you hurl another mouthful of bile over the opposite edge of the pod. Body contorting violently with the effort as you heave a few more wretched mouthfuls of burning vomit on to the floor.

“Hmm” he hums in disappointment at your display, striding around, carefully avoiding your most recent deposit as he opens a cupboard near the head of the stasis pod.

“Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo” he pronounces.

“Top of the class” you mumble from where you hunch, frozen in fear of moving your head and setting off another attack.

He was correctly describing your condition, a lucky percentage of spacers enjoyed the side effect as a direct result of cryostasis. Being inanimate for so long caused small calcium carbonate crystals to dislodge from a part of the inner ear and be suspended in the fluid that would normally maintain your equilibrium and balance. So then when you move, the tiny crystals sloshing around causes hell.

“My brother used to suffer from BPPV on defrost” he explains, digging through the thaw kit within. You hear a gentle clink as he loads a vial into an injector.

“Hold still.” You startle slightly at the purring voice suddenly so close to your ear, letting your shoulders go slack to show your compliance. He carefully slides your hair off your neck leaving tingling trails of awareness where the warmth of his fingertips had grazed over the sensitive skin.

Your thoughts on the intrusion are interrupted by a sharp sting as the syringe presses into the skin of your neck and a dose of Phytoprochlorperazine rushes into your system, drawing a cool, grateful exhale from you as it flows across your body in a cool wave.

“Give that a few minutes.” He advises, resting the injector gun carefully back in its cupboard.

“You trying to steal my job?” you jest, hired on as the ships medical technician you barely expected the captain himself to be administering your medical treatment.

You slowly chance a look up to catch his reaction, catching a momentary small, taught smirk.

“I don’t think I have the correct temperament” He confesses, seeming more like a private joke with himself. Folding his arms behind is back he strides lazily back around the pod.

“Your bedside manner could use some work.” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

His head whips that fiery gaze back on you, eyes narrowing coldly, better reign in your smartass comments.

“Noted, I’ll leave you to your own devices in future.” He quips back, taking a seat at your desk pulling a small box from his inner coat pocket and laying it out before him.

“I need some assistance with this when you’re ready please.” The way he words it is polite but his tone is scathing and you feel it rasp your nerves.

“Copy that, Sir” You acknowledge, swinging your legs slowly over the edge of the bed and trying to stand up in one smooth movement. Despite the medication, it’s too much, too fast. Your vision darkens and your head spins. You feel yourself slipping downwards but it feels dreamlike till you collide with the cold metal floor sheeting.

Blinking a few times in your collapsed heap, you push yourself up, tilting your head to see him, unbothered, watching you with an impatient scowl. The expression implied wordlessly that you were inconveniencing him by collapsing so dramatically.

“Did you lie about your qualifications?” He spits, as if you were failing a job interview.

Too bad you were deep in the outer rings now, approaching the Kuiper belt. A bit late to fire you.

“No Sir, I’m just not used to being so rudely awakened.” You jab back in frustration. Headache pulsing through your temples and zinging behind your eyes.

He scowls down, not moving a muscle to help you as you push yourself back up to standing. You take a few heavy steps with stiff legs as blood rushes around your lower limbs in a sensation like pins and needles. You lean your weight heavily on the table across from him with one hand panting slightly with the effort of your exhausted, stiff body.

“Now, what can I do for you today?” You ask in your best customer service voice with matching dead eyed smile.

He shoots you another dark look before his eyes flick down and you follow his gaze to the ornate wooden box, inlaid with shell and brass in a beautiful, complex design. His hands move surprisingly elegantly as his spidery fingers purposefully lift the lid, withdrawing two peculiar small brass contraptions. Your watch inquisitively as he pushes them together with a gentle click of some hidden mechanism before placing down what now looks like it could be a small gun or a strange type of syringe.

You inhale a gasp as he withdraws a glowing purple vial of shimmer and loads it into the back of the contraption, twisting it into place.

Your eyes, wide with shock, flick up to meet him smirking playfully at you.

Shimmer was a highly illegal and heavily regulated substance in the belt. If any was found on the ship it could result in horrible legal consequences and a record that would ground you from legitimate spacer work for life.

“This” he explains, rotating it carefully in his hand as if to display it. “Is the only thing that treats the infection in my eye.” It glows ominously and you suddenly feel like taking this assignment was a huge mistake.

“I need you to use this device, to inject it directly through my pupil, into the vitreous humor.” He explains, holding the device out for you to take.

You stare at it dumbly as it lay in the hand of your captain, as if to spite you. Panic seizes you and your mind races through the potential consequences of this simple request. This could cost you your career as a medical technician if it was to be revealed you’d administered shimmer to any patient, under any circumstances. The UN medical board had a hard no tolerance policy on the substance. Despite it definitely having some medical value under the right circumstances, shimmer had become a horrible street drug, and with its stained reputation it had foregone any chance of reputable use in legitimate medical science.

“Well?” He says calmly, but you feel the urgency of your long hesitation bearing down on you. It wasn’t an option to refuse the captain, who had hand picked you from a selection of candidates for this admittedly lucrative and cushy assignment. If he left a bad review on your file, it would marr your reputation just as badly. You were screwed either way.

He knew it too, the bastard had you perfectly cornered between a rock and a hard place.

Your eyes flick back up to his and they bore into you with the weighty expectation of a man who was used to wielding his command. His field of authority seemed to wash over you, bending you to his will and superior rank.

“Understood, Sir” you whisper hoarsely, reaching slowly for the contraption.

His smirk is deeper this time, wrinkling the edges of his blue eye in victory over your resigned submission.

The only betrayal of your annoyance is a single exhale through your nose as you walk to his side to administer the dose.

“Don’t sulk, it’s entirely unprofessional.” He chides and you shoot him a flash of fiery annoyance that he seems to thrive on receiving.

You flinch when his hand brushes your own suddenly, once again surprising you with his intrusive, gentle touch. You watch carefully as he explains the mechanism within the contraption and how to fire the plunger.

You nod your affirmation and lift the device towards him before he grabs your arm to still you with a pointed look.

“Understood, Sir.” You confirm through gritted teeth.

So he was going to be one of those Captains. Spectacular.

“Continue” he says, leaning back in the chair so his head was tilted back, giving you an easy shot.

The anxiety coursing through you as step in closer to seek out the correct angle of approach is entirely too distracting. You try for a moment before conceding that you need to be even closer to do this properly. Trying to maintain professional conduct and ignore the warmth of his side pressed against you as you finally find the right angle, setting the device in place and pulling the trigger.

The spring loaded syringe delves at speed, deep into his eye and barely half a second later he lurches forward violently, pushing you backwards against the desk in what seem to be throes of violent agony.

Oh no, this can’t be right, you must have done it wrong, your heart is pounding in your chest.

Leaning against the desk knee to knee with the captain, you gawk in blatant awe of his anguish as he writhes, clenching his teeth with his thin lips drawn back in a savage snarl. Like a wolf you think to yourself. Noting how the wayward strands of hair that had dislodged themselves from his rigid, swept back hairstyle, added to his wildness.

Slowly the hard breathing is less and less, and his muscles begrudgingly unwind from their seizing to relax over his bony frame.

With a final sigh he finally leans back into the chair, reaching into his suit for a handkerchief that he uses to dab at the thin trickle of purple liquid that had slid from the injection sight.

He sweeps a look towards you and you suddenly realise your proximity, registering your own discomfort at having both your knees interlocked with his and extract yourself carefully to the other side of the desk before he can regain his composure fully.

“How often…” You trail off as he pockets the handkerchief and sets his spidery hands to work dismantling the savage contraption.

“Once daily if I’m to fend off the progression of the bacteria successfully.” He answers smoothly, sweeping a hand up through his hair, setting it back in place.

“Did I-“

“You did it perfectly, the side effects are quite… dramatic unfortunately but that was not your doing, I assure you.” He waves a hand at you as if to dismiss you.

You’re not sure how to proceed for a moment, but you’re too rattled by the experience to argue the point that this was your quarters. So you dip your head in awkward show of respect and trail through the side entrance to your medical bay, closing the door behind you.

You catch your reflection in the glass of one of the medical storage fridges and your heart drops down into your gut.

Groggy and discombobulated as you were from cryostasis, you’d completely forgotten that you were only wearing a small white crop singlet and white underwear.

Diving towards the cabinet containing the medical gowns you rustled up some decency and pulled one on with shame fuelled haste before flopping, mortified, onto the soft lounge bay built into the side of the room.

Your first day was not going as intended.

✨

—-

Thank you for reading. <3

[honey-tongued-devil]

Hi!! Could I ask for “Look at me.  Breathe, there you go.” From the prompt list (I believe it’s number 8) with either Sevika or Silco? Bonus points if y/n is having a anxiety attack (as someone who suffers from them). I’d love to see that caring side!

↞“Look at me. Breathe, there you go.”↠

Freaking gold for my Silco brainrot. I’m sorry if it’s short and it’s not perfect, but even today I had an exam (but I wanted to adhere to one-prompt-a-day). This one is special, you can literally hear Silco in the last part... Because I added the audio! It is a paid cameo from @madmizchyf The requests are open, send me a prompt either at your choice or from one of the two lists, specifying with which character you want it!

↠Word count: 860 ↠No use of "y/n", gender neutral reader (no pronouns for the reader) ↠List: hurt/comfort (n.8"Look at me. Breathe, here you are." ) ↠Pairing: Silco x gn!reader (not explicitly Romantic, it’s okay for anyone who needs to hear the Kingpin console them) ↠Tw: Description of a Panic Attack

↠If you have any requests, ask the devil.↞

The lights are too strong.

You feel them as if they are piercing your skull, intense, with colors so saturated that pinch an indefinite point in your behind your nose, getting you a growing start of a terrifying sense of nausea. It’s inside your head, it makes your brain itch until it hurts just to keep your eyes open. 

And the music is no less, it fills that place making it even more asphyxiating: you feel it in your intestines, it goes back to tightening your stomach in a vise, fondling your diaphragm making it tremble to the rhythm of the bass, and enveloping possessive lungs. 

You can’t breathe at all.

There is not a glimmer of air in that prison of flesh and excess, not a single inch of space between the crowd dancing drunk, screaming, letting the unnatural lights illuminate their faces deformed by adrenaline and only-god-knows-what substance.

The room around you starts to spin, your fingers tremble, and you find yourself sinking fingernails and fingertips into your own flesh in order to maintain control, remain conscious, aware that hell will not spare you if you fall to the ground.

You sweat.

You lift your eyes to the ceiling in desperate search of the familiar handrail while with such a slowness that makes you go crazy a drop of sweat runs an invisible path from the forehead to the tip of the nose.

You are struggling, you are struggling like an animal that clings to life to keep control, and as soon as the slightest space between people’s bodies on the dancing opens up you shoot, pushing people away without looking back.

You don’t have time, you’re suffocating, you’re dying. Cross the space that separates you from the office of the Eye of Zaun with the impetuosity and despair of a man who after spending forty days in the desert sees an oasis for the first time.

You don’t knock, don’t have enough strength to do it, just open the door wide and close it behind you quickly, trying to push away the noises, the light, the smell of alcohol, the screams, the smoke, the intermittent darkness, the bodies that crush against each other.

Your body is heavy and you can’t resist gravity anymore, falling to the ground: knees clenched to the chest, the door behind your back as the only support, shield against the world that rages mercilessly out there, voracious, ravenous.

The only thing you are trying to find with your gaze is Silco, but tears make it difficult to focus on the elements of the room, and you perceive only a blurred silhouette approaching, accompanied by the ticking of the boots.

You try to raise your arms, no matter how pathetic that gesture may be, you need comfort, a safe place to take refuge, and that man’s chest tastes like safety, like home.

But your arms don’t respond.

You just want to cry louder, open your mouth wide and scream, but the air is thin and your body remains motionless, silent in letting tears run through your cheeks. 

As long as man’s thumbs do not gather them in a delicate caress, a light contact like the morning breeze but strong like a hurricane. His is a delicate gesture, he lifts your face just enough to make you meet his two-tone eyes -a combination of sidereal ice and fire of the deepest meanders of hell.

"Look at me. Breathe, there you go."

He takes a deep breath, then a second, slow, until almost instinctively you begin to imitate him, filling the lungs with air all the way; only then he leaves your face sitting in turn with his back against the door; with one arm he wraps your shoulders as he places the other under his knees, picking you up to hold you in his arms, in an almost religious silence.

You breathe deeply, the smell of his cologne is mixed with that of cigars in a mixture so familiar that you finally get back in control, first little by little, then all of a sudden.

And you start crying.

It is more a liberating cry than a desperate one, the arms of the man that seem to isolate you from the chaotic and evil world allow you to be fragile, to cry in that place where if you show weak hyenas and vultures are ready to pluck you to the bones. 

And he staysquiet.

His fingers gently caress your head, moving behind your ears some tufts in a gesture affectionate and respectful: he is waiting for you to be completely vented, he is waiting that all the anger, fear, anxiety you carry inside you have found a way to manifest themselves, without forcing you to suppress emotions, and you cannot help but hold onto him even more.

"I know sometimes your mind is unquiet, but it’s okay, it will be okay. Nothing is either as good or as bad as it seems at the time. Breathe..."

Your heart tightens in a vise as his lips rest on one of your temples, letting them touch your skin in a caress when they open to talk.

"breathe."

[flower-of-zaun]

Silco Smoot Commission Done!

This was SO MUCH FUN TO DO! I love doing pieces like this, as I’ve been getting more and more into the adult side of art. I love Silco’s expression, I love how FAT I made his dick, I love the joy in their faces! It’s like a dreams come true!

Minors Do Not Interact or Follow

(1 Spot is now open for commissions, DM for info)

Please check out my latest post!