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ghostchems · 2 months

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thief - silco x female!reader

desperate for shimmer, you steal some from the last drop and make your escape

me less than an hour ago:

tags: first time writing silco! let me know what ye think. PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS: drug addiction, drug abuse, shimmer, shimmer abuse, p in v sex, fingering, silco is a bad man and reader is v desperate but also kinda into it? 2.2k words. ao3 link.

The pavement thuds beneath your feet, running like your life depended on getting away. You’ve stolen something, something so small it couldn’t possibly be missed, right? Your hand grips it so tight, afraid that if you can’t feel the smooth glass it will somehow disappear from your fingertips. Small pieces of rubble start to get into the holes in your shoes which leads to you slowing your run to a steady jog and then peeling off into the next alleyway. You are panting, trying to catch your breath as you slither deeper into the dimly lit street. A success. It was a success. You were surprised by how easy it was. You slipped into The Last Drop at peak business hours (12am) and mingled within the crowd, pickpocketing one of the servers of a “shimmer shot”. You hung around for about fifteen more minutes and then peeled out of there.

You only took enough to give yourself a little push. The withdrawal symptoms have been intensifying over the last few day, to the point that this small instance of thievery seems justified. Money is tight. You’d buy some if you could. What is the harm of taking some from the largest producer in the lanes? They wouldn’t miss one small vial. They probably don’t even know it’s gone. You open your hand to look at it, the purple liquid glowing in the darkness of the alleyway. A shattered breath leaves your lips, feeling the familiar shaking in your hand and the buzz in your head. You could take it right now, swallow it down in one gulp, instead of saving it for when you get home. It would give you more energy for the remaining trek, wouldn’t it? You’re too trapped in your thoughts to notice him emerge from the shadows.

“Give that here, girl.” There’s an edge to Silco’s voice but also an air of exasperation. You’re wrenched from your thoughts only to meet his mismatched glare, one eye cool blue and the other black with a fiery orange iris. The Eye of Zaun. Your breath catches in your throat, your hand immediately closing around the purple vial.

“This is mine.” You’re not convincing anyone.

“You think I don’t recognize my own product?” Cold and unamused. Silco steps closer to you, his orange iris fixated on you as he holds his hand out. “Hand. It. Over.”

“Please. It’s so small. I… I went through a lot to get it.” You are sputtering, the idea of the vial being ripped from you almost bringing you to tears. He can see it in your eyes — you’re addicted. Addicted to his drug. An opportunity has presented itself to him, should he be in the mood to take it. Silco says nothing, his hand still outstretched to you. You give a strained whine and hand it over, your hand shaking as you drop it into his palm. “Be thankful I am letting you off with a warning, girl.” He hisses, closing his hand around the vial.

“Wait.” Your hand latches onto his coat, a bold move but you don’t want him to leave. Silco’s face twists in annoyance but he stays silent, even as you close the distance between the two of you. A last ditch, desperate effort. Your hand feels the soft material of his jacket lapel under your fingers. Silco’s jaw tightens, his mismatched glare boring into your face. You exhale, drifting your fingertips to the collar of his shirt and stroking where it meets his neck. He doesn’t stop you, which makes you push the boundaries further, touching his neck and then his jaw. Silco has seen this many times before but… but it’s been a while since he’s let himself indulge. He’s a busy man — ensuring the successful distribution of shimmer hidden beneath legitimate business dealings all while trying to raise a daughter. Your desperation is so delicious to him in this moment, his lips twitching into a barely perceivable smirk. You chew on your lower lip as your hand creeps further up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. He hasn’t shooed you away yet, much to your surprise. You wonder why but the thought is clouded by your extreme awareness of the vial of shimmer in his hand, so close to you now. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you raise yourself up on your tippy toes in order to reach him. You lean in, the tips of your noses touching before you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“P-please, Silco.” You’re begging now, your lips against his, feeling his soft breath start to pick up. You tilt your head and kiss him again, starting off with light, sensuous pecks before licking into his mouth, tasting the smoke on his tongue. Silco’s mouth drops open further, allowing you more access, his tongue curiously working against yours but letting you lead. Your spare hand moves up his chest then closes around his hand that holds the vial. All you have to do is work it out of his hand or make out with him enough to make him not care anymore. Easy, right? You embellish a moan into the kiss and then drag your teeth along his bottom lip.

Silco’s arm shoots out and seizes you by the neck, driving you back into a nearby wall. Your fingertips brush against the vial just as you’re thrown backwards, your hands moving to clutch at his arms. Air depletes from your lungs while you gasp, your eyes bulging from their sockets. Silco is strangling you, squeezing the air from your body but his face is cold, indifferent. He lifts the vial so that it’s in your view, secure between two fingers. Your grip on his arm loosens and your eyes fall to the shimmer, once again within your grasp. He tilts his head, watching your reaction to it — expecting nothing short of you reaching out to grab it yourself.

“All that trouble for the smallest amount — not even enough to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay for long.” Silco hums and starts to unscrew the cap of the vial with his fingers. *You must need it.” He brings the vial just short of your lips, your breath catching in your throat. Your mouth waters from how close it is, practically able to taste it on your tongue. A groan rumbles up his chest and he loosens his grip on your neck and slips his hand behind your head, fingers knotting in your hair. He tilts the vial up, the shimmer flowing steadily down your throat. You’re barely able to swallow it down before Silco’s mouth is crushed against yours, the vial shattering on the ground as his hand moves to squeeze your butt. It feels like he’s devouring you, losing yourself in him and the shimmer that explodes in your system. Your body lurches forward with a shriek, your nerves firing on all cylinders but he keeps you caged against the wall with his strong arms.

“Turn around.” He demands in a low growl against your lips. You find yourself doing as you’re told without thinking twice, clumsily moving your body while your head feels like it’s floating off of your shoulders. Even from the small amount your vision is already blurred and your limbs are loose, disconnected from the orders your brain is giving. Silco grows impatient, his large hands grab you by the shoulders and forces your chest against the wall, a shiver running through him at just how pliable you are beneath his fingers. You groan, your head spinning from the sudden movement, lolling to lean back on his shoulder. His breath is hot in the shell of your ear as his hands start to tug at your waistband, fingertips brush along the sensitive skin on your hip giving you goosebumps. Your face flushes, heat spreading through you as you start to fully comprehend that how badly he must want you. You arch your back into him and you can feel him already half hard against the curve of your ass.

His cock pulses at the movement, a low grunt in your ear as he starts to work your pants down. A slender finger strokes along your slick folds, earning quiet whimpers from you. Each stroke applies more pressure than the last until his finger is deep inside you, massaging at your inner walls. You can’t help but moan, the shimmer heightening some senses yet dulling others at the same time but you know that this feels unbelievably good. Silco slips two more fingers in, easing you open to prepare you for his throbbing cock, giving a satisfied groan by how receptive you are.

“An obedient little whore, willing to do anything for a taste.” He hisses in your ear while he removes his fingers from you, his other hand working down his slacks. You feel how wet you are, your juices running down the insides of your thighs. Silco gives himself three quick strokes, spreading your slick along his shaft. You try to angle yourself as he lines up with your entrance, raising yourself up on your tippy toes and keeping your front press against the wall. “Good girl.” He hums right as he plunges himself inside you, your walls stretching around him to adjust to his size. You curse under your breath, the only coherent sounds you’re able to make. Silco manages a few strong pumps before he falls out with an annoyed grunt, fingers digging into your hips and pushing you further against the wall. The head of his cock presses against your entrance but when he thrusts, it slips and runs along your wet lips. You whine and grind against him, seeking out his touch so desperately. The shimmer amplifies it and she feels everything, from each throb to the veins on the understand to his neat pubic hair that brushes her with each thrust.

A strangled growl rips from his throat and he hooks his arm underneath one of your legs and raises it to pin it against the wall. You’re fully exposed to him now, spread apart and vulnerable — but you don’t care, you’re committed and into it now. You’ve stolen from the Eye of Zaun only for him to let you off with a quick fuck, presumably as a warning. Silco positions himself again and fucks into you with a sharp breath, holding still as he presses his nose against your ear. His hips snap again and your mouth drops open, a deep moan tumbling out of it. He fills you so perfectly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your head spin and your muscles contract. You push back against each of his hungry thrusts, his thighs slapping against your ass loud enough that it echoes down the alleyway. Silco’s hand finds it’s way to your hair and pulls at it, twisting your head to face him.

He wants to see you. He wants to see the purple in your eyes, how heavy your eyelids must be by now, and how clenched your jaw must be. You meet his gaze and he sees most of what he’s looking for but your jaw is looking slack, relaxed even. Silco pounds into you once more and holds himself still, a huff leaving his lips as he watches your eyes flutter, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. You are so ripe for the taking that he can’t hold back, he has to chase it, to break you down in his arms and spill his poison inside you. His thrusts become frenzied, so deep and reckless that you can hardly see straight. Your eyes squeeze shut and you give another quiet moan, nails digging into the cement wall. He watches as the immense pleasure twists your face, making him growl and press his forehead hard against yours, feeling his sharp breaths on your lips. Silco doesn’t kiss you but he keeps his eyes on yours, the gentle lull of his teal eye and the combative danger of his orange one, both of which have a small tint of purple from your blurred vision. Two more thrusts and he’s there, flooding you with his cum as you feel his shattered breath on your face.

He slinks away, leaving you quivering against the wall, dropping your knee so your feet are on the ground. There’s nothing left for you to focus on, nothing more for you to feel and you start to spiral, your head leaning into the cement wall. Is he gone? It’s all too much. You’re head spins and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself as a shiver downs your spine. Just as you’re about to sink to the ground, you feel his warm breath against your neck. Silco slips something into your jacket pocket.

“For your troubles.”

You’re not sure how much times has passed since the words filled your ears. When you turn around he’s gone, but you feel like the rush is finally wearing off. You shamefully pull your pants back up, your gaze darting around with the realization that anyone could have seen. The same rubble in your shoe stabs into the balls of. your feet. You lean against the wall, still dazed when your hand settles in your pocket.

You pull out another vial of shimmer and you’re left with the same dilemma.

Take it now? Or at home?

#silco x reader #silco arcane #silco x you #arcane silco #arcane silco x reader #silco arcane x reader #silco #what the heck else can i tag this as

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randoimago · 1 year

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SPOILER WARNING for Arcane in this request:

This idea just popped into my head. How would Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn and Silco react to their S/O accidentally discovering that, for some reason, they're completely immune to Shimmer? As in their S/O doesn't feel any side effects, they can't become addicted to it, they don't become "enhanced", but they also can't be healed by it either. S/O can just drink Shimmer and it'll just not do anything to them.

A little "blessing and a curse" situation, if you will; S/O can't be harmed by Shimmer, but if there's an emergency & S/O is mortally wounded, Shimmer won't be able to heal them.

(Also am I the only one who thinks that shimmer is uncannily similar to oxycontin? Both were designed to kill pain, both are highly addictive, both of them flooded the streets in the same way, and in both cases, the people that made them are morally questionable, for lack of a better term.)

S/O Immune to Shimmer

Fandom: Arcane

Characters: Caitlyn, Jinx, Silco, Vi

Type of Request: Headcanons

Notes: Here you go!!

Caitlyn

She hates the stuff. It's caused so many lives to be destroyed. So many people have been hurt because of the poison.

She's afraid when you're on a job and a container of it explodes next to you.

Caitlyn fears the worse before hearing that the only damage you have is of the explosion.

She has so many questions that she's not going to ask because she's just happy that you're going to be okay.

Jinx

Probably trying to see what bombs or weapons she can make with the crap while you're around. She asked you to stay back just in case.

Except her gun is jammed and she's messing with it to try to fix it. You move closer to make sure Jinx stays alright and that's when the shimmer explodes.

It's a small vial but it's enough to cause you and Jinx to shout in surprise. Jinx has already dealt with Shimmer so it doesn't do much to her, she's more focused on you.

But all you're doing is coughing and waving the smoke away. You're not hurt at all, just have some watery eyes. Jinx is relieved and gives a big grin, "Well, back to the drawing board!"

Silco

You're hurt and bad. He's taking you to the one person he knows that could make you better. He wants to object when shimmer is the option considering what it does to people.

But Silco is selfish. He asks for the procedure to still be done. For you to be fixed because he can't lose you.

Except it doesn't work. The shimmer doesn't work. He's confused, why aren't you okay?

It ends up being a very long waiting game. Your body is bandaged and taken care of as much as can be done without the use of Shimmer. He's scared and not leaving your side the whole time he waits.

Vi has seen how much Shimmer has ruined but also how powerful it's made others. She can't help but hold a vial of it she confiscated and wonder. Would she be able to save everyone she couldn't if she used it?

And you're with her while she's contemplating and talking her down. She's annoyed because she wasn't going to do it, despite the temptation and it leads to an argument.

You both don't know what happened in the midst of fighting but the vial breaks.

Vi goes to get you out of the way as she shields her face from it. She's coughing and trying to catch her breath and you're just standing there without any negative effects. She promises not to touch the stuff after that.

#arcane spoilers #arcane x reader #arcane jinx x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane caitlyn x reader #arcane silco x reader #silco x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader

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astudyincontrasts · 2 years

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The Baron’s Daughter

Regency!Silco x Fem!Reader NSFW

A very belated birthday gift for the sweetest, most patient @thesaltybuns ! Thank you for being such a darling, special part of this fandom 🖤 Here’s a little three part regency AU fic to celebrate you and all your beautiful art. I’ll be dropping a chapter a day for the next three days. Cameo appearances by Sevika and Singed, and some familiar henchmen too.

Tags: No Y/N, regency themes, arranged marriage, canon typical violence, blood, illness, virgin reader, longing, slight angst, smutty funtimes in later chapter sshhh

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

Addendum 1

You’d never laid eyes on Silco until your wedding.

You’d hoped, entertained the notion for weeks after your father had broke the news of the marriage arrangement to you, that the man might come calling to meet you, or at least to set eyes upon his bride to be. At first you’d wishfully thought perhaps there might be a bit of wooing. Flowers, maybe, shy conversation. The days passed and the silly romance of that childish idea faded into a more sober hope that maybe you’d at least get a staid parlor introduction over tea.

The date of the wedding had crept closer and closer and soon you found yourself simply hoping perhaps he might swing by after a hunt to see your father and perchance you’d catch him briefly.

More days, more nothing.

Not a letter, not a single bridal gift. Nothing.

The first time you clapped eyes on him was the walk up to the altar on your father’s arm. Silco stood impassively up beside the minister, waiting, sharp profile aloof and set of his thin mouth severe. He did not turn to watch you walk toward him, and indeed, the dark patch covering his left eye prevented any manner of peripheral observation of your slow procession toward him. But instead of turning toward you, he simply pivoted to face the minister. Hands laced behind his back unmoving save for a slight, impatient tick of fore and middle gloved fingers in counter time to the bridal march the organ played.

He wordlessly accepted your hand when your father offered it, and let it drop the second custom no longer demanded it be held aloft.

Your father was a wealthy land baron with three sons, and you the only daughter and youngest. You’d known quite well for most of your life that your marriage would not be a thing of heady romance, but rather a ploy to build the family name, or coffers - or both. Silco was of no name at all, an industrialist, or so you’d heard, with wealth condensing so rapidly under his hand that there were rumors against its legitimacy and origins. Rumors of his origins too, but those you’d learned less about.

He repeated the vows quietly, did not spare you a glance as you watched the mismatched halves of his face curiously. Badly scarred across nearly the whole left side of his face, yet not unhandsome. The eye that refused to look at you was a soft teal, tired in its set, or else exceptionally disinterested, but not unintelligent. No, everything about the man beside you plighting his troth spoke of a resounding and almost menacing level of clever intelligence and hunger.

Far too nervous repeating your own vows back to him, eyes upon the minister as you followed his lead, to sneak another glance at Silco and see if he even deigned to watch you.

You held your own hand up yourself for his ring, no cradling touch under your palm, no hand to hold yours after the gold band slid over your knuckle.

The kiss he offered you upon the steps of the church after the ceremony was a dryly perfunctory peck on the cheek through your veil that he’d never sought to lift.

The touch of it burned softly on your skin as you sat alone during the wedding breakfast, your new bridegroom too busy talking business with other men in attendance, your father now included, to be seated at the head table beside you for a first meal together.

The coach ride back to his home was one of solitude as well. He’d not even helped you into the carriage, leaving it to your lady mother and father to see you up into the carriage and off to your new life with kisses and smiles and the unsubtle subtlety of whispered well wishes for the night to come. Silco meanwhile, had mounted his horse, preferring to ride rather than be confined to the boredom of a carriage with a new bride he’d not said one word to directly, and seemed impatient to be away, as if the whole day had been little more than a tiresome strain on his precious time.

Still, you caught his eye through the window as the carriage door closed and swore there was a flash of something there in that cool oceanic gaze that was not calculating, nor boredly irritated. No, instead it felt almost pitying? Or apologetic. It was there and gone too fast to track as he turned and wheeled his horse to the road with spurs dug in.

Mr. Silco’s holdings were not the same as your father’s large estate, though the house was no mean thing. It lay in the city though, not on a large land holding. And not in a particularly fine part of town… old, though it was no slum, simply one of those parts of town that had fallen to disrepair over the years and was now only slowly becoming reclaimed. The house was a large manor, oddly arranged on the point of a triangular city block so that its main doors sat directly on the point and the house was pressed on both sides by streets as it expanded outward, promising a strange array of rooms and architecture.

The household staff proved to be as odd as the home itself. A sinister lot; the valets all lumberingly massive brutes or else unhealthily skinny and slovenly looking wraiths, with no discernable butler among them. No ladies maid for you, though there were a few other women on the staff, looking just as rough and roguish as the men, as if they’d all found their way in from the lanes and never raised to service.

You were shown in by one of their lot and left in the hallway to watch your luggage carried inside, ignored as thoroughly as if you were one of the trunks or else a piece of new furniture no one quite knew where to place yet. Standing there, gloves in your hands, the kidskin wringing in slow tightening twists between nervous fingers, you waited, and let attention wander to the house itself.

Large, dark, but not unwelcoming. Rich, deep woods and wine-drenched colored fabrics interspersed with faded jeweltones that lent the candlelight a deeper warmth. The whole place had an air of slight elderly shabbiness to it, most recently plastered over with the wealth and slightly ostentatious air of rich trappings. The parquet floor was worn, varnish faded along the paths taken by many feet. High above you a soot darkened mural splayed across the foyer ceiling and beckoned back into the great halls.

You followed it, neck craning, stepping blindly out of the way of the staff as they ignored your presence. Let the artwork lead you on. The collections on the walls were an odd assortment, clearly acquired from a variety of estates and former owners, not a single portrait bearing any familial relation to your new husband.

One by one you explored the rooms; parlors and sitting rooms, a large formal dining room and a largely vacant and disused music room. A library conjoined with a comfortable study, and further back doubtless there were the kitchens and staff rooms. A billiard and games room jutted off the study, looking very well and frequently used indeed. The only room downstairs save for the dining room that had a fire lit.

He found you there, as you placed a hand upon one of the white ivory balls upon the billiard table and rolled it gingerly from side to side.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting.”

The sound of his voice made you jump, had you spinning to find him standing in the doorway, divested of his hat, gloves and overcoat from the ride. Clearly he’d not been in such a hurry to find you that he hadn’t found time to make himself comfortable. His smile was thin, taut, nothing of mirth living in the shape of it.

Silhouetted in the doorframe in shirtsleeves and waistcoat he cut a strikingly lean figure. Sharp set of shoulders and posture one of petulant authority, waist and hips narrow and legs long. He was a beautiful, sharp-edged slice of a man, and your words stuck in your throat as his hand slid from where it had rested upon the outside of the doorframe as he stepped inside.

You’d later come to learn that pace of his, the unhurried luxuriant roll of it, a stalking manner of walk that purred quiet power and intent.

“I see you’ve found your way around.” Quiet pitched velvet gravel in his tone that would have been flat save for the elegance with which he spoke and the slight touches of dark humor every now and again that caught his inflection.

“I’m sorry, I was tired of waiting and in the way.”

“Don’t be. This is your home now, I suppose.” He drew the ivory ball you’d lifted your hand from toward himself and spun it off across the table to clack lightly into the gathering of red balls at the far corner of the green felt. “You’re free to go where you like, though I ask you stay out of my office on the second floor. All the bedrooms are up there as well, I expect you’ll want to rest, if you’d like me to show you.”

Not tired in the least, but it seemed the agreeable thing to do, not to mention it felt as if you might have to find your own way to your new bedroom later if you declined the offer.

“Yes, please.”

He hummed something of approval and turned, let you follow him out of the room and back toward the hallways.

“Have you lived here long?” You asked, trailing in his wake.

“Not very. It belonged to an… an old acquaintance of mine previously, though.”

“I see.” You very much did not see. “Why did he decide to leave?”

“He died.” The reply was cold, matter-of-fact, and laced with something darker beneath its chill civility.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

That got you to hold your tongue, unsure what to think, and rather too alarmed to pry further. Silco led you up the stairs, taking a candelabra from one of the waiting servants to climb up into the stretching shadows as the late afternoon began its slide into evening. He pointed out his office as you passed it, left many of the other rooms unexplained, and showed you straight to the bedroom, opening the door for you and stepping aside. The trunks had been brought up but left unpacked, and a paltry fire was lit in the small fireplace with a singular candle left beside the bed. The room was well appointed, comfortable and large but held the air of a room only recently divested of dust and not very thoroughly at that, air stale.

Silco set the candelabra down upon the bureau just inside the door.

“Dinner is served at eight. You may join me, if you like.”

It was such an odd thing to say. Why wouldn’t you join your husband to dine on your wedding night, or any other night? You paused within, beside your luggage, and turned to stare questioningly at him. He seemed to take no note of the strangeness of his offer, continuing.

“Breakfast will be brought up to you in the mornings, lunch and tea are your own affair. Speak with the servants if you need anything otherwise. We keep late hours in this house, but none of that should disturb or concern you.”

“Did you wan-”

“You’ve settling in to do.” His already fleeting attention upon you slid to your things as he cut you off in your attempted offer that he stay and you get to know each other a little. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The door shut behind him with a soft click of finality that brooked no argument, leaving you alone in the gathering dark.

Eight o’clock was ages away, and it gave you time to both rest and unpack the majority of your things, to finish airing out the room with open windows and arrange things how you liked. In the end you were grateful to do it yourself since no other distractions existed to numb your growing unease and nervousness. Not to mention it did make you feel a bit more at home; to be left to make the space what you wished rather than beholden to the stiff formality of a ladies maid to tut her tongue and sigh as you bade her move things about or fix them.

By the time the little clock on the mantle had chimed eight you were rested, had re-dressed from the road for dinner, and were eager to see him again, to finally share a meal. You thought to find him already waiting in the dining room, but instead the space was empty. Room lit and table laid, food upon it. You were grateful the place settings were not at an informal opposite ends of the table but rather beside one another. His at the head and yours at his right hand.

It was closer than customary for two dining alone, but if he wished to have you in a seat where he could more easily see you it felt like an improvement over all the little ways you’d gone overlooked recently. You waited by your chair, waited long enough you were beginning to worry he didn’t actually plan to join you.

It was a quarter after until he strolled in, back in a smartly brushed coat, no longer the informality of shirtsleeves. He seemed surprised to find you standing there, waiting, but came to pull out your chair for you.

“You could have begun without me.” He pushed the chair carefully beneath you before assuming his own seat, reproach mild.

“I didn’t like to be rude, sir.” You replied quietly, holding forth your wine glass that he might fill it after his own.

He smiled thinly and poured the lovely rich claret nearly to the brim of your cup. Far too much. You’d have a headache later if you weren’t careful.

“Silco.” He corrected you, even if your deference seemed to please him, “We rarely stand on precedent in this house. I daresay you’ll find things a touch more relaxed around here than what you might be used to.”

You repressed the urge to remark that you already had found that to be the case and instead helped yourself to the nearest plate before offering it to him.

“I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.” You attempted, hollow politeness a bastion you’d been raised and trained to so thoroughly it was now second nature.

Silco breathed a dry, near silent little laugh as he carved the slice of cold ham on his plate into bite sized pieces, the fine dark brow over his teal eye quirking upward a touch.

“If you say so. The best I can offer is that no one here will bother you.”

You gazed at him in silent confusion. Half the things he said seemed to have a meaning only known unto him, and the other other half seemed to intimate some manner of sinister underpinning he had no intention of elaborating on. No one will bother you? Why should anyone bother you in your own home?

The meaning became a touch clearer later, after the remainder of the dinner had passed in an ever-increasing weight of silence, and you’d gone up to ready for bed after he excused himself to the study for a smoke and brandy. After you’d dressed yourself for your wedding night in the most comely nightgown you owned; a nearly sheer confection of a thing that your mother had gifted you, no doubt eager that you might get to the business of making her grandbabies and no delay. After you’d blown out a few candles to leave merely a romantically gloomy glow in the room, and sat perched upon the bench at the foot of the bed nervously awaiting him. After those nerves hit their crescendo and began the slow slide toward first concern and then down into disappointment as the hours ticked by, and disappointment subsided into exhaustion when you finally climbed into bed alone and blew out the guttering last stub of a candle.

No one will bother you. Not even your husband. Not even on your wedding night.

It felt mortifying the next morning, to lie there alone and pretend to be asleep as one of the household lit the fireplace, and later brought your breakfast tray. Unable to even look the servants in the face, a bride gone unwanted.

By the time you rose, had some tea and toast and dressed, you’d talked yourself into at least three excuses for why he hadn’t joined you, and lined up a few more in the wings for good measure. Perhaps he’d been tired, perhaps all the ever important business of his had pulled him away, perhaps he’d simply thought you deserved a better rest after a long day and a big change of circumstance.

So many excellent little reasons to hand to explain away his disinterest in you. And each of them fell away one by one with every subsequent night you were left to climb into bed alone after sharing a near silent supper with Silco.

You tried to uphold conversation on your end, and to his slim credit he was never dismissive or rude to your attempts. You simply struggled to meet him on common ground, as the whole of his focus and every day seemed to be swallowed by his work, which you knew precious little of. Asking after it did nothing to help, as that one topic he did refuse to discuss with you, gently but firmly shutting down any inquiry more prying than how his day had gone. He did not seem the kind of man to speak frivolity to and you were well out of gossip with not a single scrap of mail from any family or acquaintance for the first full week. And so after a few days of faltering attempts you both fell into a measured silence broken only occasionally by polite demands.

And he was always polite with you.

For all his assurance that first night that his house stood on no grounds of formality he never came to dinner in a state of undress, never seemed unsober, always pulled out your chair and served you before himself, made sure your cup was full and begged your pardon if he had to leave before you had finished. He never swore, even on days when his mood seemed black as a thundercloud and you hardly dared speak to him for the severity of his expression.

He never laid a hand upon you either. Not in anger, nor in affection.

And so with nothing else to do, you settled into learning of him, slowly. Gathered scraps of his story to yourself like sifting tiny flecks of gold from the silt of a riverbed. Tales of his past that you could glean from the servants, the fact he had a ward you had yet to meet, a young girl as inherited, it seemed, as the house you lived in, from that late acquaintance of his. Rumors of what he did for the very lucrative living he made abound, and the sound of them scared you off chasing down the truth too hard.

He became enigma; puzzling, frustrating center of your little world.

And his refusal to share your bed the most frustrating thing of all.

You supposed you ought to be grateful, that perhaps any young woman ought to be grateful not to be put upon to share herself with someone who by all reason was a total stranger… but. But you wanted him. In those silent hours every night before sleep took you, you’d come to realize quite profoundly how badly you really did want him, and not just in the manner of fulfilling some marital piety but because of the way the sound of his voice made your skin warm, because of how the shape of him and the way he moved pleased you so deeply to watch. How gazing at his face over the dinner table made your fingertips burn soft fire at the desire to touch, to trace his profile and pull his collar open, to run along the sharp thin shelf of his lower lip.

More than all this the yearning to be touched trumped all.

Those elegant, fastidious hands of his and their constant, easy motions an almost embarrassingly obvious distraction of yours, feeding the coals of quiet fantasies you would have been smart not to entertain. Yet you could not help yourself, and those lonesome nights began to turn from disappointment to frustration as surely as the green on summer leaves rioted into fall color.

By the third week you’d begun to resort to little wiles to see if you could not entice his affections. You laced the tops of your corsets tighter, chose dresses with the lowest possible cut of neckline so that you were all but spilling from them in generous offer. With nothing but time on your hands you could dote upon your appearance, every curl perfectly coiled, every tendril of hair laid just so in softness against your skin where it fell artfully from the piled intricacy of whatever style you could manage without the aid of a ladies maid. Scent chosen carefully, cheeks pinched to a soft flush, lips made pretty and plush with a softening beeswax balm, every little detail that could possibly catch his eye put on full display each evening.

And beyond the superficial, you had taken to exploring the house more, haunting its hallways, refusing to be relegated to just your bedroom, the ladies parlor, and the dining room on evenings.

One night, when you could not take the silence of your room another second, you had shrugged on a shawl and padded out of your room with a candle, determined to ransack the library for some form of diverting literature, perhaps even find a book worth discussing with Silco over your singular shared meal.

The rest of the house was dark and silent in the late hour, even the light from under the door of his forbidden office was out. The worn parquet and elderly oriental carpeting felt delicious under bare feet in a riot of sensation, and the chill of the night was just enough to feel soothing but not biting. Such a surprise then, to find a few candles already lit in the study, and just off of it, the billiard room a spill of bright light.

Curious, you set your candle down on the desk of the study and wandered toward the games room to find Silco within alone, bent over the billiard table with a cue in hand, lining up a shot. A glass of whiskey sat upon one edge of the table and a freshly lit cigar lay in an ashtray along the side table, smoke rising like heavy incense in a lazy, wavering line that plumed outward at its zenith.

He glanced up in surprise as you darkened the doorway and you, in turn, froze.

That black eyepatch of his was off.

You’d imagined all manner of thing beneath it in the few weeks you’d been here; a gaping dark socket, a milky white dead eye, perhaps nothing but a stretch of skin where the lid had been sewn shut… even perhaps just a normal eye incapable of sight and so ever distractingly off center or lolling wildly that he kept covered in an effort to maintain his precious air of irreproachable dignity.

Never in all your wildest imaginings had you thought to encounter the lidless, black sclera orb that gazed back at you with its hot glowing coal of an iris. It stared through you unblinking, watching your mouth part open and shock rush your features in spite of yourself.

Silco straightened, and almost immediately dug a hand deep into one pocket of his breeches for the eyepatch he’d removed.

“No. No, please.” You rushed a step or two in, the fraughtness of his desire to cover himself upsetting.

He paused and turned the contrast of cool teal and hot orange-red back upon you distrustfully.

“Please don’t.” Your tone softened from that initial pleading, and he slid his hand from his pocket empty.

“If you insist.” It was not pitiable, his tone, nor terribly harsh. Simply that cold, slightly clench-jawed habitual tenor.

Lips rolled inward as you fought to settle attention either upon him or the billiard table, unable to pick a focus. He was back in shirtsleeves, cravat gone this time and high, stiff collar open to reveal the lean column of his throat, sleeves rolled to just below his elbow, forearms corded muscle and sinew. He was a terrible beauty, made more terrible by that demonic half gaze that did nothing to ruin the attractive lines of his scarred face.

“Playing alone?” You asked, timidly grasping at conversational straws.

“Practice.” He explained flatly, “Makes perfect, or so they say.”

The smile you offered him was gentle in its curve as you turned to step to the cue rack, and selected one carefully to match your height and reach. His unscarred brow quirked upward.

“Care for an actual game?” You asked, examining the tip of the cue to avoid his quizzical and slightly scoffing gaze.

“You play?” Not bothering to keep the slight hint of incredulity from his voice, he set the table with its three balls back to start position and watched you grin.

“I’ve three elder brothers, Mr. Silco. If they desired to play doubles I was often called upon to fill the fourth. They regretted teaching me, in the end. Didn’t much like being showed up in a game ladies aren’t supposed to play.”

That earned you the first honest little laugh from him you’d ever had and it bubbled up against the bottom of your heart with delighted pride.

“Then by all means.” He stepped back and gestured to the table in a slight sweep of those long fingers you found so entrancing, “Ladies first.”

It was a fine game. He spared you not at all, pulling no shots, and you paid him the same respect, even if you could feel the vacillation between his delight and frustration as you steadily pulled ahead in points. Won match after match until he at last admitted defeat, tossing his cue upon the table in exasperation, but ultimately awarded you a polite quiet applause as well.

Glowing with pride, you reached into the corner pocket to retrieve your last shot, only to still as his fingers closed warmly over your wrist above where you hand lay buried in the latticed leather pocket of the table. A glance upward found him terribly close before you, yet you could not tear attention away from his touch, from the soft circle of a stroke his thumb made absently on the tender skin of your inner wrist.

That slow building ache that had begun weeks ago doubled in size and weight within, stealing strength from knees and breath from your throat.

You’d been conscious of him throughout the game, of his occasional nearness, of how he’d bent over your lean once, to judge a shot you were lining up for himself, of his gaze from across the table as your bend at the waist no doubt offered a lovely view down the neckline of your nightgown. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t watched him in the same manner as he took his shots. But this, this was wonderfully and intentionally close, and that blessed contact sparking warm fire that tingled up your arm and tickled in the crook of your elbow.

“To the victor goes the spoils.” He murmured quietly, and for a breathless second you’d thought perhaps you might’ve won the favor of a kiss. Face tilted upward and you nearly committed the embarrassment of offering a slight pursing of lips… when his hand left the grip of your wrist to dig into the hip pocket of his waistcoat and set two guineas upon the green felt.

Your incredulous gaze ticked from the coins to his countenance and back again as your hand withdrew from the corner pocket, the ball you had been retrieving well forgotten.

“I… I don’t want your money.” Voice touched by a bit more of your offense than you’d meant to show. It ruined your sweetness and you berated yourself for it even as you wrestled with his actions.

Silco, for his part, looked only mildly displeased, but not offended.

“Whyever not?”

Unable to help the way your brows furrowed in consternation as you looked up at him, you struggled with your composure, heat flooding your face far too obviously. So easy to fluster, so quick to temper, a foible you’d managed to keep well hidden with practice and hard lessons at the hands of your governesses, but unbreakable in the end.

“It was enough to play for the pleasure of your company. Sir.” Eyes ticked between his mismatched ones trained down upon you as something suspiciously close to surprise touched the usual stone of his expression. “If you had won, what would I have had to offer you?”

“What indeed.” He murmured after half a beat, turning your pink flush red, “I’m sure we could have come to an equitable arrangement.”

You were just opening your mouth as your brain struggled mightily with the notion he might have been keen to take you to bed had you just let him win, a sinking feeling that perhaps you’d wounded his pride and tricked yourself out of the very thing you longed for, with your inability to play anything but fair, when all of a sudden he cut the knees right out from under you.

“Perhaps a week in which you did not pester me for details of my work, or that I did not get reports of you bribing the servants for stories of my past?”

No sooner had he warmed your heart than he saw fit to punch it straight from your chest.

The pool cue in your hand slammed against the felted flagstone table with a resounding crack of a whip. It only made him smile, the villain.

“Why take a wife if all you desired was to be left alone?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, hot and angry as that horrible eye of his.

Silco’s smile turned cruel, the frequently hidden teeth of his showing slightly, too large for the rest of his finer, more aquiline features, and the front pair chipped as if he’d been beaten badly in a brawl at some point in his past.

“Because neither my happiness nor your own came into the question of the union, my dear. Only your father’s gain. Not that I lost anything in the bargain. Far from it. What's a quiet meal at the end of the day weighted against one more business partner tied to my plans?”

You were breathing hard, world a sickly tilt and heart hammering in your ears as he pressed the tips of fingers to the softness under your chin to keep your face full upon himself mercilessly. And something about the way your anger melted into an undeniable ache of mourning at the sudden cold wash of the reality he sluiced over you seemed to give him pause. You could feel the sting of tears welling against your lower lashes, and the bite of nails within the clench of fists trembling at your sides. No need to try to wrench your face from the plinth of his fingers, the press of them eased and dropped on their own as his pleasure in hurting you faltered.

It was enough of an out to allow you to spin and take to your heels.

He caught you at your bedroom door, startled you by stopping your shove of it closed behind yourself, unaware he was even on your tail, let alone so close behind, far too lost in your own misery and whirling thoughts to have heard him behind you.

“Wait.” It was sharper than anything he’d ever said to you, the closest he’d come to a demand, and instead of pushing the door spitefully against him as was your first inclination, you paused, stopped, and released the pressure on your side of the door, stepping back as you fought tears valiantly, unwilling to give him any satisfaction in seeing you cry.

Far from looking hungry to cause you more harm, he seemed almost contrite, uncomfortable in what he’d done and even moreso in what was so clearly a role he was unfamiliar with as penitent. Your shawl that you’d forgotten in your rush to leave the billiard room was clenched in his hand. He hesitated awkwardly in its offer to you and you couldn’t find it within yourself to take pity upon him and relieve him of that burden, wrapping arms around yourself as you took another step away.

His arm dropped at your failure to reciprocate and accept the scrap of clothing back, his gaze upon you unreadable, but touched at its very edges with perhaps the closest a cold hearted creature such as himself could come to regret. He opened the shawl between both hands and stepped forward, draped it over your lifted and bunched shoulders and let it wrap warmly around you, hands smoothing its fabric over your upper arms in a touch that had one of the tears clinging to your lower lids shiver and drip free, before the contact fell away, hands tucked safely behind his back once more.

“Why were you downstairs so late tonight?” He asked quietly, eyes carefully avoiding the misery of your expression as they ticked up and down the rest of you, “In such a pretty little nightgown.”

The compliment shocked you after his cruelty, and had you wondering if he wasn’t baiting you into another row, or perhaps just offering you a backhanded nicety to condescend. You hated having to second guess the singular compliment he’d ever offered you. Hated where the promise of the night had led. You were suddenly very tired, tired straight down to the bone with dashed hopes and a bleak future stretched long and terrifying before you.

“I just wanted to find a book to read.” You admitted weakly, voice failing you with a soft crack. Unable to lift eyes from the floor between your bare toes and his boots, you simply closed them wearily. “Something to read and share with you.”

He didn’t make a perceptible sound, but the air in the room shifted. A moment later you heard his boots on the floor and opened eyes to find him disappearing out the open door. Shoulders slumped as you buried your face in your hands, fighting the ragged lump of a sob lodged in your chest, only to hear him clear his throat a moment later and look up to find him back, a book held out between you both.

“This has long been a favorite of mine. If it's reading you want, there’s a better selection on my office shelves than the ones downstairs. Simply ask.”

You reached out and took the novel from him, eyes straying from its worn and well loved cover to his face. For a second he looked as if he would say more, but ultimately turned away.

“Stay?”

You don’t know why you asked it, why you kept on wanting someone so hateful to keep your company, but you did. In spite of all of it, you did. So badly.

“I think I’ve imposed enough on your good graces for the evening.” He refused, but gently, and lingering in your doorway with his back turned, paused and fished those two guineas out of his pocket once more to lay them on the dresser.

The breath you drew at the return of the spiteful little coins was shivering.

“I don’t want your prize.”

He hummed a little noncommittal rebuttal of a noise, tinged with mirthless humor.

“Take it anyhow.”

He shut the door behind himself, leaving you clinging to that paltry excuse of an apology, leaving you to climb into bed alone again and curl around the gift of the book clutched to your chest. To come to grips with the chill reality of your situation and to curse your father through bitter, silent tears.

His only daughter’s happiness was never going to be any match for your father’s greed and business acumen. He smelled blood in the water surrounding Silco’s dealings and so he came swimming to join the feast, eager to use you to tie himself to the next big investment. Nary a thought or care for where that might have left you.

#silcoxreader #silco #arcane #regency silco #regency au #silco x f!reader #arcane silco x reader #silco fic #arcane fic #silco x reader #silco arcane #gift fic

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to do a platonic jinx and silco with a autistic fem reader? Has trouble with communucation and socialization, a bit clumsy, but is otherwise very loyal and sweet to them both and one of the few people who not only can keep up with jinx intelligence wise but actually understand her. Silco and jinx one day overhear one of silco's goon straight up call her an "idiot freak" or something really horrible not knowing she's more than just that kid that hangs around jinx all the time but is pretty much family.

(hello! I however, do not write autistic readers because I do not have autism or know anyone who does and I don't want to be insensitive for anything about that so I cannot do that so sorry. But anyways, enjoy!)

Little Dysfunctional Family

Jinx

Jinx was ways happy to have you

Even if you had your quirks

She wasn't always the best with communication either

She was also accident prone, now and then when she was a certain someone

She didn't like socializing, she hated it

She didn't like being around fake ass goons who thought kissing up to her would get them on Silcos good side

It got tiring

So, having you, and knowing your love and being with her was genuine??

Made everything else matter absolutely jack shit

She treats you like a sibling, maybe if your younger, like a little kid sibling she never had

She will be very protective and loving

She doesn't want anything to happen to you

Or for anything, or anyone to take you away

She doesn't think she can handle that

So she does whatever it means to keep you happy and very loved

As long as you love her the same

It's a great deal, really

She is very happy you're able to connect with her on so many different levels

Especially when you help her when she has freak outs

You understand why she has them, and how she is the way she is

But you never judged her about it

Or really questioned it, you were just you, and you were there for her

And she will always love you for that

And that you're able to keep up with her highly energetic ways is amazing

And how you can make gadgets and go on and on for hours on end with her

She loves

She never had someone like that before, so now that she does

She doesn't wanna let it go and doesn't want anything to change

So to hear someone talk shit about you??

You??

The amazing one, her fucking sibling, like they're nothing??

Oh boy

When Jinx is mad, she is mad

There are no limits

She will do whatever the hell she pleases to them

She'll toy with them for a little tho lmao

She'll be asking

"Why do ya think that?? Wow, what else do you think?"

Acting coy, a fake pleasant and charming smile on her face while she is seething inside

Then she'll just bust out

"Well, funny you say that about, y'know, my best friend."

She'd be giggling while the goon is terrified

Everybody knows

don't fuck with Jinx

She's a firecracker is under the protection and love of the Eye of Zaun

So, safe to say

That goon is GONE

never to be seen again

Oh well, cuts your losses

Jinx will then rant to you about it and be telling you how wrong the goon is

She'll also probably tell you bits of what he said, and make it out like he tried attacking her to justify what she did

But it's okay!

Who can be mad at this amazing girl?

Silco

He is the Eye of Zaun, man

He may not show it or say it very often, but he cares deeply about you and Jinx

He's had you guys for so long, he forgot what it was like without you both

He didn't care that you didn't very function well with socializing and communicating

To him, you were perfect

Because you were you

He wasn't good with that stuff either, like Jinx

That's what makes you all an amazing little family

A family that protects one another from anything

You all were basically molded with the same skills, some lacking in some departments, but we'll enough to appreciate one another

Even if it's not said every day

You knew it, Jinx knew it, and so did Silco

So, he wants to keep you and Jinx happy

He wants you guys to be taken care of

He also appreciated that you can connect with Jinx on a level he can not

Intelligence wise and her personality in general

Not many can keep up with the blue haired wonder

So, it's very much appreciated that you keep her alive while also indulging in her activities

He will not let anyone talk shit about you

Did you see how he acted when Sevika tried to call Jinx a problem??

Well, he'd act sorta like that

If the goon kept going on about you and saying shit

He's be silently pissed as they keep running their fucking mouth

If they even get the chance

He may not kill them per se

But they will be traumatized, no doubt

If they go far enough, he'd probably send Sevika on their ass

He would not stand for it

He would also, probably call them into his office and play a physiological game

He'd threaten them no doubt

And you and Jinx are giggling up in the rafters having the time of your lives watching this absolute jackass almost piss himself

Anyway, Silco would not let any asshole try and run all over you

He taught you better than to let that happen

He also will take care of it for you

It's his way of showing fatherly love

It's not perfect, but it's the way that he knows he can show it without screwing up

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year

Text

Jinx x fem! Reader - Tick tock

A/n: I had some much fun with this request, I took some creative liberties but I had an idea and I just couldn't get it out of my head! Enjoy!

Request: Hey! Can I request a jinx x reader who were childhood friends but Jinx thought she died so in a fight with Jinx reader's mask is knocked off, jinx recognizes her and takes her?

Warnings: death, violence, swearing, ptsd, jinx being jinx, cannon? I don't know her, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pronouns used: she/her, you/your] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romantic!) jinx x reader, (platonic/parental!) silco x reader, (platonic!) ekko x reader]

1 week ago

The Firelights were swarming her, and Violet and that stupid enforcer.

But she would kill them, she would make them pay for ever trying to attack her and her sister.

They were like bugs, fluttering around on tiny wings without care but to annoy her. She brought some down, but flies have always been hard to catch.

A slash across her leg as she screams in pain and repeatedly hits the foolish firelight who hit her. Again, and again.

The raven mask breaks off the firelight's face and-

You.

The smoke bomb erupts from behind her and instinctively she latches onto you as she cries out for Vi. Her sister, they took her, she left- No! They took her!

She left her again.

"Jinx, let me go!" You hissed at her as you struggled in her grip and attempt to back away from her.

"You're supposed to be dead!" She counters back hugging you close to her chest as manic sobs leave her throat. "Why did you leave me?" Jinx finds herself uttering those words all over again but this time without a cry, or a harsh gut-wrenching scream. Just with a broken voice beaten through the horrors of the undercity.

"The Firelights saved me, but I was in a coma for a long time. By the time I had waken up you had already moved on as much as you could with your life. You were healing." You mutter the last three words with a kindness she only knew from you.

She didn't need to know that wasn't the whole truth.

Jinx shakes her head and with her light pink and baby blue polished nails, she cups your face, her fingernails digging into the cheeks of your skin.

"You're never leaving me."

Gripping your hands on her arms as you nodded your head, not erratically like her, but calm - eerily calm.

"Never again."

5 years ago

Jinx as always was all over the place, that was just her personality, crazy as a bug but with the intelligence of the best inventors of Piltover. Probably better. Just the way you liked her, though you would like her even if she wasn't bat-shit crazy.

Where Jinx was messy, you made up for it with your preciseness, with your black suits and room put all together nicely. You appeared to be the opposite of Jinx, yet you both had more in common then anyone would ever think.

"Birds of a feather, flock together."

Even at fourteen years old, the world was already starting recognize you as the daughters of Silco.

They would never be ready for you.

6 months ago

"Y/n!" Jinx screamed at you, trying to warn you of the upcoming drop as you, Jinx, and Silco were leaping from the rooftops. As your dad decided to teach the two of you another lesson.

Yet it was too late, and your foot slipped as you threw your head back in laughter, and your body tumbled down to the hard, grim-ridden ground.

You didn't even get to finish your laugh.

It will never escape you, the irony of the situation. According to statics Jinx was the one who was the most likely to fall, hell even Silco had more of a chance of falling off the rooftops than you. Even with all your perfectness you still slipped from that roof.

Jinx went to jump down after you as Silco held her back she hit, yelled, and kicked him until exhaustion over took her. Although Silco held on all throughout the battle because he wasn't going to go and lose another daughter.

When they left, with a sobbing Jinx in tow a green light hovered over top of you as a brave firelight snatched you from the ground. Your faint pulse beating underneath his fingers.

8 years ago

"Y/n!" Powder called out for you.

"Powder?" You question her from your spot in your "nest" as Vander liked to call your special spot in the room.

She plops down on top of your lap with eyes full of tears she refused to shed lest she be called a baby by Mylo or Claggor.

"What's wrong Bug?" You ask her with her nickname that no one else was allowed to use. One time Violet tried and you knocked her in the jaw, you were on cleaning duty for a week after that.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around her, bringing her into a hug.

A smile is brought onto her face as she shakily replies. "Mylo said I was a jinx again Toots." She says your nickname back with a frown on her face when she speaks about her perpetrator.

Narrowing your eyes at the door as if Mylo would come through at that instant.

"I'll kill him." You growled and squeezed Powder gently in your arms.

Giggling, Powder shook her head. You always went for violence first, it was almost concerning for Vander and Vi as they were the only ones that could've distinguished that in the Lanes never thinking twice about violence made you dangerous. They wanted you safe, but they didn't want you to be dangerous to be so.

Despite this, Powder never went against your nature, and you never babied her but thought of her as a real person. A real friend, as an equal.

Not that the two of you knew that, you were both only eleven!

"Mylo is still one of us." She states snuggling into your arms. "You can use one of my glitter bombs though!"

7 years ago

Sure you had felt bad when you hadn't come back to Vander, but as a twelve year old you thought you knew the in and outs of everything. The secrets of the world. As you had willingly stayed with Silco when Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder were forced to leave you behind on a supply run gone bad.

The only person you truly missed was Powder, but you knew even through your childish jealousy that she would never leave Violet.

"Y/n." Silco called out to you, as your sharpened your new knives that he had gifted you.

"Yes?" You replied, placing your daggers on the table and jumped from your seat to meet up with the industrialist and a blue haired girl trailing behind him.

"I would like you to meet Jinx." He says, a bit nervously hoping that you - someone who is like a daughter to him would like the girl he had ultimately decided to take in as well.

He stepped to the side and-

Her.

"Bug?" You inquire confused, your mask that you had been wearing for a year had broken. She was back to you, you both were finally home.

5 days ago

"Bug, you have to let me go." You sigh as jinx wrapped her arms further around you and narrowed her eyes down at you.

"No! You'll leave, and I'll never get to tell you-" She chokes on a sob.

Your own eyes filled with tears, Jinx was the only person who could enlist such strong reactions from you. You wanted to hate it, but you would hate her in return if you did, and you could never hate your Bug.

Closing your eyes you realize what was truly going through her mind.

"I'm yours Jinx." You open your eyes to find her intense blue ones staring right back at you.

"I've always been yours."

Jinx blinked a couple of times before smiling her soft smile only few have seen. That even less deserve.

"Me to Toots."

1 day ago

"Thank you councilor for meeting up with me today" You examined your nails as if they weren't ugly and torn apart from where you lived. To this Councilor, it probably made you look unaffected by the contents of this meeting.

"I've seen to be meeting up with you people a lot." He says, obviously stressed.

His name was Jayce Talis, a new councilor and the easiest to manipulate considering Councilor Medarda did it pretty well. Also if he didn't want him and his friends to go down.

"Tell me councilor, what do you think the council will do when they figured out you gave a person of Zaun a hexstone."

You took out the stone from your pocket and let it fall around in your hands.

"What would happen to councilor Medarda for supporting? What would happen to your partner, in perhaps more ways then one; your dear Viktor? Would they send him back to the undercity?"

What could you say? You had done your research and those two inventors have been fueling the tension for years. Hopefully this would be enough to scare the two together.

You slowly let the news sink in and as he girts his teeth and curled his fists and finally the defender of Piltover gave in.

"What do you want." Talis raised his voice in fury.

"Clear Jinx's name." You stated as if it were so simple.

"The council won't just "let up" and clear her name without reason!"

You had a crooked grin on your face.

"Would a corrupt enforcer do it?"

3 years ago

Jinx's bomb exploded in the background as you calmly walked up to the cowering Pilte who had betrayed your father (Silco) and didn't transport the shimmer he was supposed to.

"Please..." He begged for his life, tears brimming his eyes as you flicked out a knife from the inside of your sleeve.

You looked at the man with a deadpan expression on your face, what a pathetic piece of garbage.

Some small little giggles could be heard coming from behind the Pilte causing you to smirk. As you turned around and started walking away you heard the grateful pleas of the man until there was another explosion behind you.

Jinx leaped up beside you and leaned her head against your shoulder as you gazed upon the sunset. It was a good sunset you had to admit, but it couldn't beat the ones in Zaun. You guys just had a far better view then them.

"Silco's going to pissed!" Jinx laughs and laced your hands together.

You shook your head as she swung your hands back and forward.

"I already took care of the idiot's affairs, father already knows."

"You're so formal!" She jumps in front of you, and jabs you in the ribs. "Lighten up Toots!"

Smiling at her, you take her face into your hands.

"That's your job Bug."

2 days ago

"Dad?" You questioned as you came into his office with your girlfriend beside you.

She hadn't left your side ever since she had taken you back from the Firelights clutches. It was a bit much and put a damper in your plans, (also there was the fact that you knew the ultimatum the idiot councilor had given Silco.)

Also you didn't know if you still deserved to call him the title you had given him years ago.

"Y/n?" His voice echoed around the room in disbelief before he was up and pulled up you into a hug.

Yes, there was always more to do but you had reunited with your father and now girlfriend.

You were home.

Present time

Jinx laid on your lap as you braided her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Zaun was finally free.

3 months ago

"Y/n, you can't just kill people because you want to!" Ekko seethed at you, furious as you played with a dagger.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself off of the tree. "And I already told you Ekko, I do what I want when you hurt Jinx!" You snarled.

Ekko sighed, this wasn't the first time he's had this conversation with you. You're a force to be reckoned with, he should have expected you to be, you were one of the half's of the daughters of Silco for crying out loud!

You were also the same as when you were young.

Although you were usually calm when you had this repeated conversation, Ekko knew when he could physically see you getting more angry every time, this time though you were nearly furious, he had to make a different deal with you.

"Okay Y/n, I'll make you a deal." He started officially picking at your interests, but he couldn't be quite sure so it made him slightly nervous. He did this thing where he would fiddle with his hands when he was nervous, he's done the same thing since he was a boy.

How has everything stayed the same yet it changed so much simultaneously?

"It's not possible for us not to harm Jinx, she's a constant around us and it isn't working."

You nearly wanted to snap at him, hurting Jinx had never been an option in your mind.

Your eyes flashed dangerously, but you waited still, to hear the rest of his bargain.

Ekko usually had more tricks up his sleeve then the other children in the past, it would be a useful skill to still have. For your sanity, and his life you hope he did.

"But I will personally make sure nobody kills Jinx, or fatally injures her and I will get you one of those stones from Piltover."

Blinking a few times you curled your hands together and as you did, Ekko took a few frantic steps back,

Ekko had made you enraged, because this is an offer you can't refuse.

So you calmed yourself and coolly placed your hand out for Ekko to shake as if you were the one to propose the deal in the first place.

Ekko hadn't given you freedom, but he had given you something to destroy Piltover. To clear Jinx's name.

A deal.

Words 2286

-thedelusionreaderbitch

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aerynwrites · 1 year

Text

Ruined

Vampire!Silco x Fem!Reader

Arcane Halloweek: Day 4 - Monster AU

A/N: I have been so excitedly sitting on this one shot for days now and I’m so happy to finally share with y’all. Also…I just Just of made up my own vampire rules so just ignore that lol. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 4k

not beta read - apologies for any and all grammatical/spelling errors.

You should have known this was a stupid idea.

You should have known your mistake and consequent solution would come back to bite you in the ass. Just like every other time you try to go out of your way to appease everyone. Yet, here you are, suffering the consequences because some fucking assholes decided to jump you and the caravan on your way back to the Last Drop.

Sevika, Ran and the other goon with you had made quick work of most of them, their superhuman speed making them efficient in their jobs. However, a few of the thieves managed to get away with almost half of the supply.

The blood supply that keeps Silco from having to roam the lanes in search of food.

You can’t help but kick yourself, as you remember the damning words you uttered to Sevika in the aftermath when she asked what you were going to do. What you were going to tell the boss.

I’ll take care of it.

You might be one of the few humans in Silco’s employ, but you’re good at you’re job and you’re loyal - two things that lead to the right hand woman taking you at your word. Plus, it’s not like you lied.

You are taking care of it.

You’re just trying to take care of it with Silco being none the wiser. As far as he knows the pickup went off without a hitch, his blood supply being unaffected. If only due to some late night visits to Singed for blood draws to replace the missing product.

It felt like a great idea at the time - a simple, easy way to ensure the boss has what he needs without any needed stress. Except as the days wear on, everything starts to catch up with you.

Reports seem to pile up, your focus shifted as eyes droop with each written line. Thirum having to shake you awake at the bar when you drifted off mid conversation, brows furrowed in confusion. Your head pounds almost every morning, eyes foggy as they try to focus on the world around you. And on top of all of that, you’re fucking exhausted almost constantly. Arms and legs move slower, you can never seem to get fully warm.

And if Silco’s sidelong glances or frustrated sighs when he has to repeat himself for the hundredth time, say anything…He’s starting to notice that something is off.

A faint call of your name pulls you from your thoughts, bringing you back to the bustling bar of the Last Drop as a large hand settles on your shoulder. You turn and come face to face with Sevika, who’s looking at you with that all too familiar frustrated scowl.

“Didn’t you hear me the first dozen times I called your name?” she asks, casting a glance at your barely touched drink.

You shake your head, gesturing around you lazily, fatigue already setting in. “It’s loud.” you offer lamely, smirking when she rolls her eyes.

“Boss wants to see you.”

You sigh, “I already gave him my reports-”

Sevika cuts you off, practically hauling you off the barstool. “Now. And he didn’t seem keen on waiting.”

The tone of her voice is sobering, pushing your fatigue to the side as you look towards the stairs. You don’t offer Sevika any response other than a wary glance as you make your way to Silco’s office.

The stairs creak beneath your feet as you make the journey until you are outside the familiar door. Raising a hand to knock, your knuckles don’t even meet the surface before the familiar drawl of Silco’s voice stops you.

“Come in.”

Entering without hesitation, the door closes behind you as you make your way into the room, stopping just behind the chairs in front of his ornate desk. His chair is facing away from you, the smoke curling delicately over the top the only indication he’s sitting in it.

You clear your throat softly. “You…wanted to see me, sir?”

The chair turns to face you smoothly, teal and orange gaze settling on you as he takes a deep drag from the cigar at his lips before snuffing it out in an ashtray on his desk. His eyes never leave yours as he exhales slowly, the smoke enveloping you in a distinctive spicy aroma.

He must see the way your nose scrunches at the smell, never being one for cigars or the way they smell, a detail he’s picked up on in your years of service.

“A distinct smell, is it not?” His voice is like silk as it leaves his lips.

Brows furrowed at the random line of questioning, you nod slowly.

Taking a deep breath, he picks up the cigar once more, twirling it between long fingers as he studies it. “A distinct taste too,” he continues, “each cigar tastes different than the last. Some have a certain headiness about them while others are more delicate - sweeter, even.”

You shake your head, heart thumping nervously in your chest as you lose any idea of why you were called up here. “Boss, I don’t understand-”

“Blood is the same in that sense,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls open the top drawer in his desk, procuring something before placing it on the desktop. “Everyone’s blood tastes different. Not a single one is alike. Which is why-” he taps the object on the desk twice, “I know this shipment of blood is different from the rest.”

Your eyes fall to the desk and you feel your stomach drop through the floor. It’s a blood bag, just like the same ones that typically come in the shipments. But the only difference is the slight difference in the labels. You tried your best to replicate the labels on the typical bags, but you couldn’t perfect them.

This is one of the fillers you slipped in. It’s your blood that’s been emptied from that bag, and you can only hope he hasn’t connected the dots.

“If there’s an issue with the product I can talk to the supplier and see if they’ve made any changes,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you anticipated.

Silco regard’s you for a moment, before he slowly gets to his feet, eyes never leaving yours as he rounds the desk, that oh-so-familiar saunter sending a chill down your spine.

“Were there issues with the shipment?” He asks plainly, getting closer to you with each calculated step. “Because there are just a few too many coincidences for me to dismiss.”

He’s in front of you now, a mere foot away as he looks down at you, orange iris blazing as he starts a slow circle around you.

“The shipment was delayed, then the product differs vastly from those in the past, and at the same time as all of these discrepancies are occurring, one of my best employees starts to decline in health and their duties…”

You can’t find it in yourself to move as he stalks behind your back, breath fanning over your ear until he pauses just over your left shoulder.

The one thing that you could never seem to get used to with vampire’s, despite spending most of your time with them, was their lack of warmth. You almost expect to feel heat seeping into your back through your thin shirt, but all you feel is bone shilling coolness as he leans forward, lips brushing against your shoulder as he speaks.

“I have a theory,” he whispers, lips trialing ever so slowly upwards to rest just over your jugular, “and I'd like a chance to prove it.”

The faint scratch of unnaturally sharp canines against the delicate skin of your neck, makes your voice waver as you speak. “W-whatever you need.”

He chuckles darkly, and you feel ashamed of the excitement that shoots through you.

“Be careful what you so willingly offer.”

Before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your wrist, spinning you until you are pressed up against the edge of the desk, trapped between Silco and the hardwood behind you. But that isn’t what sucks the break from your lungs.

No - it’s the glint of steel in the fading light of his office that has your breath leaving you in anxious pants.

This is it. You think, eyes instinctively clenching shut. He’s going to kill me for lying to him, for trying to cover up my mistake, for breaking his trust-

A sharp gasp leaves you as a stinging pain erupts across your fingertip. Eyes fly open only to see Silco tossing his knife onto the desk behind you as his dual colored gaze falls to the hand held between you.

Your hand. With one finger extended and a delicate pearl of blood bubbling to the surface. It feels as if you aren’t even breathing as he takes the digit into his mouth, tongue laving at the small wound. Contrary to what you imagined, his mouth is warm and tongue slick as it moves to collect every scrap of blood from your finger.

After what feels like an eternity but is probably just a mere moment, he pulls back licking his bottom lip thoughtfully before fixing his gaze back on you. He fixes you with that wicked smirk, the one that always makes your knees weak.

“It seems I was right,” he says simply. “I had a feeling something happened with the shipment, and in an effort to correct the accident, you filled the gaps with your own…supply.”

You go to speak, but Silco cuts you off just as you take a breath, leaning down ever closer to you, your noses brushing gently as he speaks. “I could taste the difference immediately. The regular supplier most likely supplements the blood with nutrients and other things and it makes it taste…bland, medicinal…” he trails down lower, nosing at your jaw, “lackluster.”

“But yours…” His breath makes your skin prickle and you can’t stop the shiver as he dips lower, lips brushing the spot just below your ear. “Your’s is different. Brighter, more vibrant, sweeter…” his words melt over your skin like warm honey, and you can’t find it in you to care when your hands come up and grip his arms for purchase as he continues.

“I had an idea of what you were doing right from the beginning, and as I kept drinking, kept tasting you, well…I couldn’t help but wonder what it tastes like directly from the source.”

As if to emphasize his point, he runs his tongue over the delicate skin above your jugular, and the words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

“You can. I’d…I’d let you.”

The confession is a broken, desperate thing, but he must enjoy it if his bemused chuckle is anything to go by. You want nothing more than for him to do it, to take what you've been willingly giving him for days now. But to your confusion, and slight disappointment, he pulls away, eyes roaming your face.

“I know you would,” he reveals, lips ticking upward in that smirk once more at your shocked expression. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. The way your heart speeds up in my presence, your stuttered breaths, dilated pupils…”

He pulls even further away then, reaching up to pull your hands away from him with a gentle grip, a drastic contrast to the delirious way he’s teasing you.

“As much as I desire to accept your offer…you’re weak,” he deapans, letting your arms fall to your sides once more. “This plan of yours has left you barely able to function, let alone let me feed from you.”

He sidesteps you gracefully, rounding the desk as you turn to follow his movements until he is back in the same position he was earlier. Sat in his chair with all the power in the world as he pulls a new cigar from inside his desk, snips the end off and lights it with calculated precision.

His eyes fall from you down to the scattered papers on his desk as he takes a deep inhale from the cigar before letting it out once more.

“Take the next few days to yourself. I expect you to be at full capacity before the next shipment.”

His words are a clear dismissal, and you have to stop yourself from physically reeling from the whiplash the last several moments have given you. But you don’t stay to ask questions, instead taking it for what it is.

The door to Silco’s office clicks shut behind you as you exit into the hallway, and your brain can only seem to focus on one thing.

What the fuck do you do now?

───── 𖥸 ─────

It’s been weeks since the shipment incident, and just about the same amount of time since your moment with Silco in his office, and his words haven’t stopped ringing in your head.

As much as I desire to accept your offer…

Sure the offer had been made in the moment but…you meant it. Years spent pining after your vampire boss had left you thinking about the idea more than once, and…

He didn’t outright refuse you. He just…deferred it to a later date.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself as you’ve tried to find a way to bring it up again in a casual way.

Initially you weren’t ever going to speak about it again - in fact, once you returned to work you had planned to pretend that the whole fiasco never happened. The new shipment came in without a hitch so things went back to normal.

…almost…

You have your energy back and you’re back to your old self, no longer missing meetings or dozing off at the bar. But Silco…something is different since you’ve come back from your mandatory recovery leave.

Your meetings with him to go over reports feel more…intimate. Before, you typically stood a few feet from the desk, rattling off numbers and important details while he looked at the papers. But now, it’s vastly different.

Now he invites you so sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk as you go over the reports. Oftentimes standing to pour you both a drink - another new addition - before taking his place in the empty seat beside you.

The first time it happened, it caught you off guard, stalling your speech as you looked over at the kingpin of the undercity who only lazily gestured at you to continue.

Once you gathered yourself again you had indeed continued, but you didn’t miss the way he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and leaving very little space between you as he read over the parchment in your hands.

Each time he’s so close you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and the spice of cigars on his breath when he mutters a question. And you swear a few times you even heard him take a deep breath just a little too close to be coincidental.

You also noticed that the blood supply is lasting him longer than usual, which means he’s either finding a supply elsewhere or just not using it.

Maybe he was so used to mine…he doesn’t like the taste of the other stuff now…

The thought is fleeting, and you try to shove it down before it takes root, but you can’t. It’s the only thing you can think about as you slowly ascend the stairs to Silco’s office, nerves alight with anxiety as you finally stand in front of the door.

What if he doesn’t want it? What if he laughs I’m your face and calls you out for the foolish child you feel like? What if-

“Quit lingering at the door like a wraith. Either come in or get back to work.”

The all too familiar voice meets your ears through the thick wood for the door, and you can’t stop the warmth that floods your cheeks.

The door is unlocked so you walk in easily, letting it click shut behind you as you step further into the room. Your eyes fall immediately to the man who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

He stands in front of the large window behind his desk, the light casting his office in a green hue and making him nothing but a silhouette against the backdrop.

Instinctively you shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket, trying to hide the way they shake as your nerves get the better of you.

Finally, Silco turns to face you, his orange eye bright and glowing against the darkness of his silhouette. It makes you shiver for an entirely other reason and that alone seems to give you the little courage you need to approach the desk.

His features make themselves out as you come closer, the light not distorting them as much, and you’re able to see the way he raises a brow just as he lowers a cigar from his lips. He makes a point to blow the smoke away from you, and you silently appreciate the small gesture, licking your lips as you try to find the words you want to say.

However, Silco beats you to it, voice smooth as he speaks.

“If you have something to say…say it.” He says bluntly, eyes locked onto you.

So he knows. Or…at least has an idea.

Pulling your hands from your pockets, you clasp them in front of you, trying to appear more confident than you feel.

“I just noticed that the new supply might not be up to your…standards. And I just - wanted to let you know that my…my offer is still on the table.”

Your last words come out in a whisper, confidence slipping away from you the longer you hold Silco’s unrelenting gaze.

The suggestion sounds pathetic when you say it out loud, and you’re ready to take it all back to tuck tail and run when a chuckle meets your ears.

It’s the same as the ones he gave you last time, dark, humorless - but not cruel or demeaning. Just like he’s privy to a joke you don’t understand, an irony you can’t fully comprehend.

And as he stalks from behind the desk, snuffing out his cigar on the way, you find that your eyes never leave him. Not even when he comes to stand almost toe to toe with you, that damn cologne tickling your nose and making your eyes flutter as he leans in closer.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering me?” He asks, voice genuine, as if he truly wants you to rethink your precious gift.

But you have thought about it. Thought about the possibilities, what could go wrong, and what could go so mind-nubmingly right.

You just hope this will fall under the latter.

You give him a small but firm nod, voice not wavering as you speak. “I do. And…It’s yours. I-If you want it.”

The breath of air he releases is one of relief, you can practically feel the way he sags into your space, nosing your jaw as hands ghost up your sides.

“Oh, my dear…” Breath fans over your ear sending shivers down your spine. “You have no idea how much I’ve craved it.”

You don’t know what you were expecting. Part of you was expecting him to take you right there, teeth plunging into your neck unceremoniously to drink directly from the source like he wanted. Part of you maybe expected him to be a touch softer, walking you through it before sharp canines pierce delicate skin.

But you never expected a kiss.

Never expected cool lips pressed against yours with a ferocity only intimate lovers possess. Never expected the feeling of his tongue running across the seam of your lips or granting him access as easily as you draw breath.

He hums lowly into you, and you can feel the vibrations from within his chest as he wraps strong arms around you to pull you impossibly closer against him. Fingers press greedily into your sides as he guides you backwards and you don’t even have the wherewithal to wonder where he’s taking you.

Only when he turns you both with incredible grace and sinks down onto the plush velvet of the sofa does it register, and by then you’re already in his lap and too far gone to care.

He breaks the kiss as soon as you slide onto his legs, thighs straddling his own as lips trail from your mouth to your cheek, then lower.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?” He husks, voice like broken gravel as he nips at the edge of your jaw, those impossibly sharp fangs scratching teasingly.

“You’ve ruined me. You gave me a taste and it’s made everything else taste like the toxins swimming in the river Pilt.” He’s at your neck now, teasing, nipping, tongue laving out to soothe the little bites. “Bitter, acidic, bland-“ he takes a deep inhale as he nuzzles into you, and you can feel the way his lashes flutter against your skin. “Nothing like this, like the divine ichor that seems to run through your veins-“

“Silco, please.”

Those two words. The utterance of his name and the way you beg so sweetly are his undoing. They are enough to snap the thin little thread of control he still had and allows him to finally take what he’s so desperately wanted for longer than he can remember.

The pain is both as intense and yet, lesser than you had thought it to be. It’s a piercing, searing heat that flows from your neck to your fingertips where they grasp for purchase in his fine silk vest. Yet the ecstasy that courses through you moments after is enough to overwhelm all else.

It’s…strange. But it feels good. With each languid pull, each pass of his tongue over your skin, the way his arms tighten around you, crushing you to him as he feasts - it all makes the heat in your belly burn brighter.

He groans against you as he drinks, pressing harder against you as if that will somehow make the blood come forth faster, nose digging into your shoulder as one hand comes up to tangle in your hair as you nuzzle into his own neck.

It feels like an eternity when he practically rips himself from you with a grunt of effort. Pressing one last kiss the delicate skin which stops the gentle flow of crimson. You were just beginning to feel the telltale signs of fatigue, sleep tugging gently at your eyes when cool hands come up to cradle your face.

You’re pulled from your place on his shoulder gently, and brought up only so caring eyes can look you over. The teal iris, the one so many seem to overlook, is eclipsed by the black of his pupil, hunger still present in his gaze.

There’s still the faintest hint of red on his lips, one corner darker than the rest - and you can’t help but reach up to wipe at it. It’s the first time you’ve truly touched him throughout all this, the first time he’s ever let you touch him. So, you try to commit it to memory. The way the scars marring his upper lip feel beneath your thumb as you wipe gently at the blood left there.

Without thought, his tongue peaks out to wipe up the excess, brushing against the pad of your finger before retreating once more as he reaches up to take your hand in his own.

You’re momentarily struck by the gentleness of his actions, the way his brow seems to draw together in concern. Which is why you can’t fathom why the words spill from your lips.

“So, was it better directly from the source?” You ask, voice soft and bringing a rare half smile to the man’s lips.

He nods. “As I said,” he begins, leaning in so lips ghost over your own, and you can almost taste the metallic tang on his breath.

“You’ve ruined me.”

#arcanehalloweek22 #silco x reader #arcane silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco #arcane

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piggycyberwarrior · 1 year

Text

how would the arcane caracters react if you cry in an argument //HC

Summary: how would the arcane caracters react if you cry in an argument?

Includes: Ekko, Silco

a/n: No proof read, have fun reading and dont be shy requesting, I love request.

Ekko:

Well, it happened in a bad argument

You had a fight because he didn't seem to understand that he should take care of himself and that you were worried about him.

"Don't you understand?" he was almost shouting "I am the leader of the Firelights! I can't play it safe while my allies risk their lives and die in battle! I don't have time for this!"

"I'm just worried about you, Ekko. If you would just be a little more carefu-" "If you wouldn't be so childish, we wouldn't be arguing right now!" "You know that's not true!"

“oh fuck off! You just don't want me to go because you don't want me to be out with the others!”

"What are you talking about! I don't care about that. I just don't want you to die!" Now you were desperately screaming with thick tears running down your cheek and leaving red streaks on your face

He wouldn't listen to you. He just pushed you away and didn't seem to care about your feelings. But you did care about him. Just the thought that he would die someday on a mission turned your stomach in an unpleasant way.

your suppressed sobs filled the now silent room

only now he seemed to notice your tears- his eyes widened slightly

"Shit, Firefly I-I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean to make you cry. Shit. Forgive me.

The boy stuttered in panic as he tried to gently wipe your tears from your face.

"I'm sorry, I really am." he whispered as he spread little kisses all over your face. little 'I love you's' after each kiss

you scrunched your nose and mumbled "I just don't want you to get hurt. I know what you do is important, but every time you leave, I'm afraid you won't come back. That's scares me.

“’m sorry, Firefly.” he said after he kissed you on the nose.

"I try to be more careful. It's just that as a leader, I can't play it safe. Everyone relies on me."

"I know," you sighed as you pressed your face into his chest.

"Come on I'll make it up to you." he said with a smile as he picked you up and threw you on the bed.

you shrieked when he did that. "Here comes the tickle monster! Gaaahhh!!!"

A few hours later you two were lying in bed. Legs tangled together. Your head was on his chest.

"Babe?" asked Ekko since you two hadn't talked in a while. "Mmm, Noodle Doodle?" he chuckled.

Slowly he turned to you till you were facing each other. His breath over your lips.

A quick kiss- "I love you, Y/n" "Mhm, I love me too." he pinched your side. "Ouch, I'm kidding! I love you too big baby."

Silco:

He's a busy man, everybody knows that.

so it was clear that he missed dates or couldn't spend as much time with you as he did sitting at his desk writing papers

but sometimes it looked like he liked the paperwork more than he liked you

And when he missed your anniversary, something inside you burst. And before you knew it, razor-sharp words flew between the two of you.

"I'm just saying you should spend a little more time with me! Hell, you even missed our anniversary!"

"It's just a day like any other! Don't be so resentful. I just have to work a lot not like you! Why do you think I am where I am right now!"

"I don't want you to give up all your work! I just want maybe one hour with my boyfriend! It would be enough if you would sleep in my room, but hell you always fall asleep on your desk!" you said with a raised voice.

it was too much for you. Couldn't he understand? Couldn't he sacrifice even a few minutes for you, was that too much to ask? angry tears pooling in your eyes

he straightened up, trying to strengthen his dominance.

"Fine!" you snorted, walking past him. If he didn't want your company, you wouldn't bother him. Silco sighed, "Y/n-" too late, because you slammed the door to his office and ran into your room.

Hours passed. Silco was not looking for you. It was better that way. You looked terrible. Red eyes, a runny nose, tousled hair and a damn headache.

At some point Sevika came to look for you.

"you look like shit." "Mhm" "Ok what happened?" "Nothing." "I'll talk to him."

she went to him and told him no matter what kind of fight you had, you should end it and that it bothers everyone

silco just sighed and stroked his hair back.

Sevika was right, he knew that. He himself noticed how his thoughts drifted to you, his concentration dwindled.

He let himself sink back into his chair. It did not help. He has to talk to you.

You were lying under your thick blanket when a firm knock broke the silence

The door was opened and Silco entered the darkness of your room

"Y/n-" "What do you want?" you said somewhat briskly with a hoarse voice from all the crying.

Your back turned to him

He sat down on your bed, his weight made the mattress dip a bit

"Love, look at me” you turned around

His breath caught a little when he saw your red eyes. Had it really affected you that much? When he thought about it, he had really acted a bit coldly.

He exhaled a deep puff of air and put his cold hand on your puffy face

"I'm sorry darling. I didn't pay attention to your feelings and reacted coldly. That was childish of me. I know how much that means to you. and i hope i can make it up to you for the missed anniversary”

"Even if it's just a day like any other?" you said with a raised brow

“I'm sorry I said that, I didn't mean it" he whispered and pressed a kiss on your forehead

"Mhmmmmm you have to make it up to me with 100- no 1000 kisses. And I want cuddles." you command in a childish demanor

“Everything you want darling.”

#ekko x reader angst/fluff #silco x reader angst fluff #leauge of legends imagine #leauge of legends writing #arcane ekko x reader #arcane silco x reader #arcane angst to fluff #arcane crying in an argument

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

Text

Ride (NSFW)

Summary: Silco asks, and who are you to deny him the ride of a lifetime? You're sure to enjoy yourself as well.

Warnings: NSFW|MDNI. Late Sinday. Established-relationship, feral Zaunite revolutionaries, teasing, banter, face-sitting, oral (F receiving)

Your hands curled tighter with his own, fingers interlocked while your thumb strokes along his hand. "You're sure?"

Green-blue eyes roll upwards, but the smirk on his face remains, even with his dry tone, "Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't, sweetheart. Didn't think this would be something you have second-thoughts on," Silco's eyes return to your face, both going hooded as he murmurs heatedly with a devious grin playing at his lips, "Wouldn't be the most terrible way to go. Certainly better than an Enforcer boot or bullet... my own glimpse of heaven, before I die and go to hell-"

"Oh, shut up," You scoff, releasing one hand to glide it up towards his hair, laying loose on the pillow he's propped his head on. A hum rumbles from his chest where you sit (pleasant in more ways than one) but you find more joy in watching those pale greens flutter at the feel of your nails gliding and scratching lightly at the young man's scalp. "Or I might just let you suffocate."

It was meant to be a tease, but Silco opens his eyes, and looks hungry. "Promise?"

It's enough to make your breath catch, and that's enough to make his grin grow while his hand raises. A firm smack to the meat of your thigh has you jerking, and a quick release on his hair before you brace on the headboard.

The shit-eating grin on his face from the faint handprint he'd left on your thigh, fades into a fully-focused honing of his gaze as you wiggle your way up, knees soon braced on either shoulder. "If this does end up killing you," You point out, pausing to reach down and brush the long dark hairs out of his face, earning a hum of acknowledgment but, much to your blushing chagrin, his eyes stayed on your already glistening slit not inches from his face. "- then you're not allowed to haunt me for it."

"I would never. I'll be far busy telling my fellow deceased all about the wonderful last ride I had."

Grinning toothily, Silco looks back up at your eyes while his hand come up to cup your ass. Ignoring your squeak of surprise at a harsh squeeze, he raises a dark brow pointedly while you give him the extra second to take a breath, before easing yourself up, forward, and than down-

"Oh."

Oh, indeed.

It's very much not the first time Silco's tongue has curled into your folds so immediately, but it's one of the firsts that has you almost releasing the headboard at the sensation alone. Nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass as a low groan ripples through you, as his tongue slowly swipes and probes at your heated flesh, making a collection of the dripping fluids already gathering there.

"Fuck." You breathe out hoarsely as the bastard purposefully shifts his head between your already shaking thighs, his long, evilly-arched nose perfect to torment your clit with slow grinds as he flattens his tongue against your entrance.

And stills.

Stops entirely, and besides the tightening of the grip on your rump - no doubt leaving bruises - Silco grows so frozen, that after the initial frustration and burst of indignation at his halt, you grow worried.

Shit, did you suffocate him? You reach down with one hand, digits still trembling as it bunches loosely in the long-dark head of hair between your legs, but it's intercepted by his hand reaching up to grasp yours, giving it a squeeze. One that still proves he's still among the living, and as per earlier discussion, it was still all-green.

Relieved, you glance down with a sigh, catching his hooded, mirthful and... awaiting gaze? Confusion filled you, when the effort to shift back only succeeded in making his grip on you tighten, and Silco’s expectant brow only raised higher. What did he...?

Then his bright cyan eyes flicked up, pointedly looking unimpressed at the way your hand still holds the headboard.

Oh.

There’s still a slight hesitance as you uncurl your fingers from the anchor keeping you from fully resting atop of his face, but the moment your weight drops, you quickly forget about your earlier concern when Silco’s tongue curls into you, as if in reward.

Another swear as the pure-evil that is his nose grinds lovingly against your clit, and despite working to keep still and simply accept this pleasure, you can’t resist bucking forward when he does it a second time.

Silco doesn’t need to do it a third time.

Perhaps that was his plan all along, to give you only enough that it made you seek for more yourself, and seek, you do.

Hips roll as you sigh and whimper at the waves pleasure that feed into your desire to chase release as you use Silco’s tongue, mouth and nose to achieve it. Your hand squeezes his tightly, where fingers still remained intertwined against the mattress, while your now free-hand comes up to ghost over your chest.

A groan rumbles through your folds as Silco’s name works out of you in a moan, pulled from you as he obscenely slurps at the juices that are all but dripping from you. Panting as you cup yourself, thumb and forefinger teasing at a stiffened nipple, your back arches as you let out a small cry to the ceiling with the feel of his lips encircling around your clit to suck.

It’s in earnest now, that you give into Silco’s earlier request and ride out your pleasure. Panting, moaning and wantonly rolling your hips over his face as your pussy is all but devoured like it’s a delicacy.

The sounds he makes, and the way his death-grip on your ass doesn’t cease for a second in order to keep you more or less in place, it very well could be.

Eyes snap shut with your jaw snapping open at the sudden coming of your orgasm, crashing through your nerves when you feel the chipped edges of his teeth scrapping gently against your clit. It sends you over the edge near instantly, nails biting deep enough into his hand to leave behind cresent-marks from your nails, while you let out near-sobs of Silco's name in jumbled syllables as he suckles your clit through your climax.

You ride in earnest as long as you can stand it, letting the orgasm push and pull through your senses in slowing waves, before you're panting and reaching up to grab the headboard again. Skin already flushed, you feel more than a little mortified and embarrassingly pleased when Silco tries to follow your escape of sensation, tongue broadly collecting the dripping from your slit before you're kneeling too-far above him on shaky knees, causing him to flop his head back onto the pillow beneath him with a sigh.

A loud, panting and wet-sounding sigh, one that nearly make you choke on a laugh. Until you looked down and saw his face.

Blissful, as ridiculous as it was. This man had a blissful expression on his face, half soaked and grinning lips reddened and abused by his ordeal, like he really did find a glimpse of heaven, in the midst of pure sin.

His breath caught, after a moment with your thighs quivering above him, Silco cracks open his eyes, tongue snaking out to catch remnants of you surrounding his mouth and chin. A breath of his name at the sight, almost stunned, but he only smirks wider, tip of his tongue prodding at a canine as he gazes up at you.

And still looking a bit hungry.

"Wouldn't be a problem to ask for another ride... sweetheart?"

#silco x reader #silco #arcane #arcane fanfic #mdni #arcane silco #league of legends arcane #writing #lol arcane silco #arcane silco x reader #young silco

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justgrey · 1 year

Note

Loving your stuff. Jinx and sister reader (and maybe some silco too) who makes a minor mistake during a job and has a hysterical panic attack thinking silco's going to punish her and then disown her. And silco is both horrified even at the idea and silently livid at whoever hurt her bad enough to make her so afraid. While jinx is all protective mode

Excellent request, thank you for sending this one in!

Jinx x Sister Reader - Headcannons of Reader Having a Panic Attack (Platonic)

(This does include Silco x Daughter Reader I just thought that Jinx x Sister Reader would work better as the title of this. Also it's been a while since I've experienced a panic attack so this is going off of my memory, correct me if it's a bad representation please!)

Warnings : Panic attacks, swearing

You would've probably been doing something like what Jinx was doing the first time we see her as a young adult. Guarding cargo, watching for the Firelights, that sort of thing.

The minor mistake in those situations would've been letting Jinx distract you which lead to the Firelights sneaking in and either destroying or stealing a majority of the things you were supposed to be protecting.

For the first time in a while, you felt stupid that you let your sister take your attention away from where you were supposed to be watching.

Then realisation hit you like a bus.

Silco, the man who saved you from abandonment and loneliness, might throw you out again because you fucked up.

At that thought, your heart felt like it tightened and you felt your palms get sweaty. It felt like your heart was going at the speed of a bullet. Though Jinx only noticed your breathing starting to speed up.

She'd call your name a few times before watching you collapse and hug yourself, tears falling from your eyes as dispair fell over you. It was like you were frozen in that position and it was terrifying.

Jinx acted quickly and ran through the dirty streets of the undercity with her barely conscious sister. Her worry worsening every second you acted like this.

She'd totally bust the door of The Last Drop down before running up the stairs to Silco's office, the people who were previously laughing and drinking completely silent at the sight of her.

When you get there, it doesn't matter if Silco's in an important meeting. She does not give a fuck and busts that door down too.

Silco looks the two of you up and down before his eyes fall to your face as Jinx explains that you just collapsed out of nowhere after the job went bad.

He'd freak the fuck out internally but would regulate his worry and get up calmly before walking over and grabbing you from Jinx and laying you down on the couch and demanding that Jinx monitor your condition while he finds a suitable doctor to treat whatever this is.

After a while, you get better and a doctor Silco found tells him that you had experienced a panic attack before leaving the three of you alone.

Jinx would ask why you were so stressed to the point of a panic attack and when you explain that you just didn't want Silco to drop you for failing, Silco is heartbroken. But when you tell them that it's happened before, they are both indeed, livid.

Silco would set a bounty on whoever made you feel that way. He wants them alive but wouldn't mind if somebody did the job for him.

Jinx is just angry but instead of destroying something, she understands that you need to be consoled and that destruction could come later. She sits down with you and wraps her arm around you if you allow her to and explains that you are perfect and that the guy you worked with before Silco and Jinx is an idiot to let go of you and your potential.

She is also a little sad that she was the one that distracted you from your task and would offer to take you out for your favourite food later as a way to apologise.

Silco can't help but be a little disapointed in himself. How could he let you, his daughter, think that he would do such a horrible thing? He wouldn't trade you and Jinx for the world.

Jinx would later take you out to blow some stuff up in an attempt to make you feel better.

Silco would leave small gifts for the two of you to let you know that he cares for you more than you could've ever imagined.

He would also lighten your work load if he felt like it's a little too much for you.

They basically just become a lot more aware of you and how your mind works so they can help you improve in a way that isn't damaging :)

#jinx x reader #arcane jinx x reader #arcane x reader #silco x reader #arcane silco x reader #silco #jinx #arcane jinx #arcane silco #platonic #platonic jinx #arcane

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aviidus · 2 years

Photo

Oh dear, that would be quite unfortunate wouldn’t it, @chickenparm.

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ghostchems · 3 months

Text

masterlist

ONGOING

infernal | nsfw | parts: one/two/three/four | ao3 link

papa emeritus iii x fem reader Terzo is serving a death sentence. It isn’t like he had much of a choice. He remembers the game night clearly. The typical arguments and accusations of cheating had subsided and it was a rare moment of fun and relaxation with his brothers. The next thing he remembers is waking up on a gurney and gasping for air. They told him his brothers were dead. They told him they had removed his head for a photoshoot and then reattached it again. They gave him a choice: die now or take their money and never speak to them again.

the devil’s damsel | nsfw: non-con | parts: one/two/three/four | ao3 link

papa emeritus ii x fem reader after one mistake, you end up in the belly of the beast

cemetery stroll | nsfw | parts: one/two | ao3 link

papa emeritus ii x fem reader a creature interrupts your evening walk through the abbey cemetery.

bad idea right? | nsfw | parts: one/two | ao3 link

raphael x fem tav your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain

COMPLETED

*the titles link to the tumblr post. ao3 links included for all! for fics with multiple parts, i linked the last part bc i am lazy :) there are no tumblr links for burn with me because its an ~ao3 exclusive~ (i stopped consistently posting the chapters on tumblr the longer it went dhdjsjsj)

papa emeritus iii

cirice | nsfw | ao3 link

you are searching for inspiration at the site of a local urban legend but something beckons to you

kazoo comfort | sfw | ao3 link

you take a break from your daily duties to clear your head when you run into a cozy-looking retired papa

the rose | sfw | ao3 link

terzo reminisces about simpler times

upiór | nsfw | ao3 link

upiór (n.) - a person cursed before death, a person who died suddenly, or someone whose corpse was desecrated

the wedding guest | nsfw | ao3 link

you have just gotten over a break-up and attend a wedding of a friend alone. a man with face paint distracts you from the festivities

the cardinal’s cure | nsfw | ao3 link

cardinal terzo notices you seem a bit stressed and he has perfect solution

gloves | nsfw | ao3 link

you are the resident glove maker at the abbey and cardinal terzo comes to you with a curious request.

you drive me (crazy) | nsfw | ao3 link

the prompt: Now that Terzo has retired he has to take driving lessons because Imperator won't let any of the ghouls drive him around anymore. Reader is hired to teach him but what happens when love (or just sex) gets in the way of his lessons?

a man after midnight | nsfw | ao3 link

the prompt: looking at the mirror but the reflection isn't. looking. at. you.

the phantom touch | nsfw | ao3 link

when copia is gone, the phantom comes out to play.

the dressing room | nsfw | ao3 link

the last show of the popestar tour has concluded with Papa being dragged off stage. your task is to keep him occupied in his dressing room

smoke break | sfw | ao3 link

you find solace and a private place to smoke when you are caught by the new papa.

cardinal copia

burn with me | nsfw | ao3 link

It’s been a long time since Copia has been able to play with his food.

restroom detour | nsfw | ao3 link

you're out with your friends at the new local hot spot: the pinnacle lounge. a trip to find the bathroom has you stumbling into something not for your eyes.

road rage | nsfw | ao3 link

as copia's assistant, you've found a nonconventional way to keep your boss calm.

oops | nsfw | ao3 link

copia makes a mistake while summoning a new ghoul.

upiór | nsfw | ao3 link

upiór (n.) - a person cursed before death, a person who died suddenly, or someone whose corpse was desecrated.

devotion | nsfw | ao3 link

the cardinal™️ doesn’t feel that you’ve been a good little sinner lately.

boys suck | nsfw | ao3 link

dracopia with the prompts: that gut feeling something is following you & having blood smeared all over you

the cream in cardinal copia's coffee | nsfw | ao3 link

you are blessed with the task of making the new cardinal his coffee each morning and on your first day, you forget the evaporated milk.

papa emeritus iv

the sads | sfw | ao3 link

you've fallen behind on your classes at the ministry because of an episode of the sads.

somethin’ spooky | nsfw | ao3 link

you've secured an invite to an exclusive party at a satanic church only to end up being underwhelmed by the lack of "spooky".

have some sympathy and some taste | nsfw | ao3 link

you become charmed by a spooky live performance at a bar you wandered into.

wrong place, right time | nsfw | ao3 link

you work at a local concert venue, specializing in requests from the music acts. one request and one warning slips your mind.

on leather wings | nsfw | ao3 link

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

papa emeritus ii

la bella luna | nsfw | ao3 link

after a disappointing evening, you run into a mysterious man on the street.

mary goore

baptized in blood | nsfw | ao3 link

you will never forget the day Mary Goore rolled into town.

silco

thief | nsfw| ao3 link

desperate for shimmer, you steal some from the last drop and make your escape

#chems corner #sorry for taking the small break fellas #i got strangely overwhelmed and upset about the state of tumblr lolol #but i'm back now!#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copie x reader #popia x reader #terzo x reader #secondo x reader #bg3 raphael x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #mary goore x reader #silco x reader #arcane silco x reader #silco arcane x reader

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sihakadan · 1 year

Note

i saw “It’s getting crowded. Here, hold my hand.” and i immediately thought of being one of silco's guards and the man is so touch starved he forgets to let go after lmao

Y'all really, really like Mr. Rat Man. But, aight, I like the prompt. I'm also really sorry for taking longer than usual. My kiddo had a rough week of testing so I was helping her buffer. Also it's Thanksgiving week and I am already tired from the amount of socializing I will be doing.

SFW, this is a sacred blog (it is not, it is full of sins and I am not sorry) and proofreading is for people who sleep 8 hrs a night and have a work/life balance.

Your boss made you so nervous.

Not because he was a powerful man with the undercity under his thumb or because he controlled the production of shimmer. Man, his crazy kid didn't even scare you as much as you thought she would.

Oh no, he made you nervous because he would just disappear. Always without warning and whenever you looked away for one second too many. Sevika almost had your ass a couple times.

But now, he had slipped away while on the way to a meeting, on your watch. You couldn't even begin to think about what Sevika would do if she found out.

You knew which way he was going, where he would be going and would be eventually. Heading that way, you noticed that there was more people than usual on the streets tonight, with lots of dancing and loud debauchery. Was it a holiday and you missed it on your calendar?

Out of the corner of your eye you caught the familiar hair and popped collar of your boss, standing by a street artist painting the neon lights. Panting from all the panic and searching, you came up next to him, giving him an exasperated look.

Silco dragged on his cigar and motioned to the painter and his creation. "Fascinating, isn't it?" His blue eye looking over you before going back to the painter. "To see what is in front of you and just make it come together, using nothing but skill and a few tools."

"Yes it is." You really did agree, but there were lots of people and he had to get to that meeting. "Sir, please, we need to go. They're waiting."

"Let them wait." He continued to watch, seeming uninterested in moving from his spot. "Do you like art?"

It was getting harder and harder to keep you eyes on him and the crowd, but now he wanted you to look at the painting some more. "I like it enough." You moved closer to him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Just enough?" He gave you a side look. "I've seen you watch Jinx with her work and admire the tattoos of the patrons of The Last Drop."

Yes, he had you there. You enjoyed looking at artistic works, of many varieties. "Well, yes, I do-" Someone bumped into you and in turn, you bumped into Silco. He didn't seemed fazed by it however and hummed as you caught yourself, growling in annoyance.

You turned, almost snarling. "Hey! Watch it!" Sniffing, you straightened up and apologized to Silco. "Looks like the streets are full of idiots." And you could very well lose him again. "Here-" You held out your hand to him. "It's getting crowded, take my hand so I don't lose you again."

He almost seemed impressed that you would be so forward with him, but also how you held his eye contact as you did it. "Very well." His gloved hand took yours and even though there was cloth between, you could still feel the heat coming from his hand.

Leading him through the crowded streets, you felt his grip become firm and it almost felt like he was trying to shield you from the people, not the other way around. In fact, he was almost pressed up against your side, taking a few shoulder bumps instead of you.

As you neared the building that was your destination, you thought that Silco may let go, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't as he opened the door for you both and as you both entered the elevator.

You tried to keep your cool, but you could hear your heart beat in your ears and your skin heating up.

"Does it bother you?" He asked, his voice low and by your ear.

Inhaling deeply so you could collect yourself, you turned your head and made eye contact once again with him. The scent of aftershave and cigar wafted over you. "Not at all." The voice that left you was soft, almost airy. The heat in your cheeks intensified.

"Hm." Silco ran his eyes over your face, studying you before standing up straight and looking forward again. "Interesting."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, the doors opened and he stepped out, taking you with him. The door to the meeting room just right there.

His gloved hand slipped from yours and you could feel yourself almost reach out again, but you balled your fingers into your palm, the nails biting skin. "Be good and wait for me here. I wish to discuss things with you later. A proposal of sorts, one that benefits us both." He said, lighting another cigar.

You knew him long enough to understand what that lingo meant and you felt a smirk spread on your lips, making a mischievous chuckle. "I look forward to the benefits."

#arcane netflix #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #arcane silco x reader

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inari-zaheer · 2 years

Note

I’m not sure if you do requests so if you don’t then don’t mind this lol 😻

How do you think Silco would be with a S/o who has adhd

Thank you for the request!

Silco With a Reader Who Has ADHD

Pairing:Silco x Reader

TW:None

———————��—————

Silco is never one to turn his back on mental health and such, so expect him to do everything in his will to help you

He would never get mad at you, no matter how distracted you got or if you messed something up

He is a busy man, but would keep a diary with your daily activities and would keep reminding you of them throughout the day

No matter who he had a meeting with, he'd let you pace around his office and specially if you liked fidgeting with his clothes, you and Jinx were the only ones that he allowed to do so

Althought he would not trust you to do field assignments he would let you help him with files, always trying to help you on concentrating and using it as a kind of exercise

Again, never getting mad if you messed something up and having the patience to correct your mistake and praise you when you managed to complete a file by yourself

If you had some special object that helped you concentrate he'd immediately get you a buch and leave one on each room so you could have them if you needed

He'd never let anyone talk shit about you, just tell him what happened and on the next day he have you on his lap playing with your hair while he calmly explains what he had Sevika doing with said person

If you needed to take medicine he'd ask to the best doctors that his money could afford to help with your treatment

If you ever mixed the subjects while talking with him, you don’t know how, but he always knew about everything you talked and made questions to let you know he was listening and was interested

If you ended up frustrated at the end of the day he would bring the diary and show you all the things you did saying that even if it wasn’t much he still loved and was pround of you for your little accomplishments

#arcane x reader #silco x reader #silco imagine #arcane fanfic #Silco #arcane silco #arcane #arcane imagine #arcane silco x reader

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aerynwrites · 2 years

Text

Afterlife

Silco x Fem!Reader

A/N: I’ve had this idea for months now and had a few spare moments today to bust out a little drabble. I hope you all enjoy and as usual, comments/reblogs are very very appreciated! I love to read what you guys think 🥰

Word Count: 857

*Sorry for any errors I edited this myself so may have missed some things*

Silco never thought much about the afterlife. Never pondered much if there was one or if it was all just empty black space when one meets their end.

Even if there is one, he’s certain he would not be permitted through the golden gates.

Not after everything he’s done.

Yet…as he sits here - blood dripping from his lips, soaking his clothes and his daughter crying at his feet…

He silently hopes there is a life after death.

He knows he’s going to die. He can feel the life seeping out of him like liquid from a spilled glass.

His skin is cold. It hurts to take in a breath and speak what he knows will be his final words. Trying in vain to comfort the last living person that he cares for.

He hopes there’s an afterlife, not only so he can see Jinx again someday…but maybe - if there is in fact a life after death - he will see you soon.

You.

The love of his life.

Taken from him just a few short years ago when a rogue chembaron thought he could use you as leverage against him.

Once again his work had ruined a beautiful thing.

The pain in death isn’t what he thought it would be.

Maybe it's the adrenaline.

Or maybe it’s the dying urge to comfort his daughter in his last moments.

The girl you both raised together. The girl who’s tears soak through his trousers as she begs for forgiveness that’s already been given.

“I never would have given you to them. Not for anything.” He can feel it now. The end finally closing in around him.

“Don’t cry…” he mumbles, using the last of his breath to reassure her. “You’re perfect.”

The end is what hurts worse. And no, not the physical pain from the bullets that tore through him.

But the pain of leaving his child alone, not knowing what will happen.

That fear and pain is the last thing he feels as the last of his life leaves him and everything is black.

For a moment there’s nothing. It’s as if he blinked out of existence for an undetermined amount of time until a soft pinprick of light permeates the inky blackness.

His name - airy and far away - echoes around the empty space.

Is he alive? It’s the only thing he can think as the light gets brighter, and the voice louder.

Pure shock washes through him as the voice calls out to him again, the light now almost blinding and he finds himself pushing away the hope that swells in his chest.

Until finally his entire world explodes in a brilliant white light and there’s no doubt whose calling out to him.

A hand - your hand - reaches out from the wall of light that still blinds him.

Immediately he slides his hand into your own, choking on so many built up emotions at the familiar softness of your palm against his.

“Wh-what’s happening?” He asks, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light until you appear fully in front of him.

You’re just as beautiful as the day he lost you, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out for you.

Your cheek is soft beneath his fingers, your smile wide as you step closer to him, eyes sparkling.

“I’ve been waiting,” You say simply, a sad smile overtaking your happy one. “But I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

His fingers thread through your hair before trailing down your neck to rest against your shoulder.

“This isn’t real.” He murmurs, eyes trailing over your form. “This is a terrible dream before I die, isn’t it? Some sick joke being played on me for all the evil I’ve done.”

He clutches you tightly, pulling you into his chest with arms wound snugly around you. Afraid that if he lets go he won’t ever see you again.

You laugh against him, your lips brushing his neck as you speak.

“It’s not a trick,” you assure him, pulling away just enough you can look into his eyes. “Gods, I missed you so much, Sil.”

Silco has only cried once. And that was the day you left him.

And now that you’re here before him again, he feels the unfamiliar sting of tears burning at his eyes.

“I never…I never thought I’d see you again.” He says honestly, still in awe that you’re here before him.

You smile.

“Well you’re here. And now we have eternity together.”

“Eternity?”

You nod, before you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

He turns to kiss you properly, but stops short when his mind calls back to the person he left behind.

“And Jinx?”

Another sad smile. “We’ll wait for her. Just like I waited for you.”

Silco can’t wait any longer. You’ve both waited long enough.

His lips meet yours in passionate kiss, drinking each other in after so many years apart.

Silco didn’t believe it before…but he’s never been more happy to be wrong.

He has you back - and one day Jinx will be here too.

Then, you’ll be a family again.

Just like it’s meant to be.

#arcane silco x reader #silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco #arcane #arcane league of legends

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vinciwolf · 2 years

Text

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.

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