#silco x gn!reader

[ace-of-zaun]

It’s Because:

Silco x gn!reader - 1k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, pining, denial of feelings, falling in love, brief mentions of death, injury, and trauma, happy ending

summary: Silco is not in love. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this before, i hope it works!! (it really hurt to type as well but my physio told me i had to.) inspired by the song i’m not in love by 10cc

Silco is not in love.

Unequivocally, categorically not in love. 

He doesn’t even know what love is when he meets you as a jaded, starving teenager, too busy trying to make ends meet to even think about something as trivial as love. But he does know that the easy way you smile when you meet his eyes makes his day just that little bit brighter. 

He’s not in love when he spots you a few years later, standing quietly amongst the meagre crowd in the bar, listening to his rallying speech of change and independence. Although, the spark in your eyes as you watch him is like a match to the burning in his chest, and for once in his life, it makes him feel alive. 

Silco isn’t in love when he accompanies you on mission after mission, learning to trust one another as he watches your back and you watch his in return, securing resources, and medicine, and meals for the starving children of his city. It’s just the adrenaline from the sprint back home, as you both narrowly escape the Enforcer’s clutches, that sets his heart racing to the dozen.

He can’t be in love when he watches you from across the bar, laughing, and singing, and dancing along to the jukebox, unaware of how effortlessly you light up the room. And so what if deep down he wants to join you and bathe in that light, soaking you in until you're his? It’s not like it means anything anyway. 

There’s no such thing as love on his birthday when he refuses to tell anyone the significance of the day, instead scowling down at yet another shipping manifest. Except, when you hand him a cupcake and kiss his cheek as you walk through the bar on your way to the market, he hopes the red of his ears and the longing expression isn’t too noticeable. 

Love isn’t present on the night you cry in his arms, heaving sobs that wrack your body as you mourn those lost in the fight, yet more casualties in this never ending fight for freedom. It’s simply the right thing to do when he lulls you to sleep, shushing your cries until your breathing slowly evens and your heart beats sync up with his. 

Silco tells himself he isn’t in love when you sit side by side, legs dangling off the little bridge that crosses the river as he gifts you a starburst necklace that once was his mother’s. And it certainly doesn’t mean anything when you gaze up at him with the softest smile, intertwining your fingers with his while you gently rest your head on his shoulder. 

He is not in love the day you stand with him in the little alcove across the street from the bar, sheltering from the rain that drips down to form galaxies of puddles along the square floor. You’re up on your tip-toes, his arm is around your waist, and when your nose bumps against his, his heart beats so loud he’s sure you can hear it-

But then his brother is suddenly there, pulling him away from you as he insists he goes for a walk with him, and Silco makes the worst decision of his life and agrees. 

In thunder and rain, Silco knows that love ends in nothing but betrayal when he is forced to disappear, body pulsing with pain, mind in tatters. He’s hurting, and angry, and beyond scared. But weaved in between it all, he thinks of you and pictures the way you looked and felt beneath his fingertips, and thinks that maybe it’s not all bad. 

There’s no time to think of love when, years later, he finally gets his revenge and reclaims his bar, his home; a second chance at raising the city his people deserve. Though, it’s almost like serendipity when he happens to take a break from arranging his schedule to look through the window down into the square, and there you are, standing in the middle of the street silently watching his workers carry in new furniture. 

He isn’t in love when he runs down to you, nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, pushing through the doors until you’re right there in front of him, the only place he truly feels safe. But when you don’t scream or slap him or curse him for leaving you, instead striding across the distance to throw your arms around him in a tight embrace, he forces himself to choke back his tears and allows yours to soak into his shoulder instead. 

Silco continues to remind himself that he’s not in love in the coming months, while you sit beside him day after day, helping him put his plans into motion, listening to every word, every worry, every whisper. Really, who can even tell that his heart skips a beat when he spots that you’re still wearing his mother’s necklace, still so mirandous even after all this time?

He’s not in love the evening you sit atop the bar, laughing as you retell a story from your youth, caught delightfully off-guard when he can’t help but surge forward, capturing your lips while his hands cup your heated cheeks. It’s just one of those things, he supposes, to finally feel content standing between your legs, your own lips pressed in a smile against his, in a way that kick starts his once dead heart. 

But now, nearly two decades after he’d first laid eyes on you as a naïve boy, he lays next to you in bed and watches you sleep peacefully, tangled in the sheets the same way you’ve weaved yourself into his heart. And in the quiet lull of the night, he runs his fingers over a shiny, jewelled ring, custom-forged to match his mother’s necklace that still rests around your neck. 

He thinks of easy mornings and four-word questions, and for the first time in his life, allows himself to simply feel. 

Maybe, just maybe, Silco is in love. 

#silco x reader #silco x you #silco x gn!reader #silco x f!reader #silco x m!reader #silco #silco fic #silco arcane #one shot

[ughthisisntright]

Hello There ! 👋😊

May I ask you a humble request ? 🙏

NSFW Silco seducing and fucking Finn's girlfriend please 🙈

YES. THIS. THIIIIIIS. I made reader gender neutral - I was on autopilot and wrote it like that!

NSFW below the cut!

You felt the watchful gaze of Silco as Finn berates you in front of the entire society of chembarons. You had little to do with the operation, with the cause, but Finn still loved to assert his power over you. Something he'd been doing since the very beginning. You loved him. sure, but there was something eating away at you that made you want to... rebel.

As the man huffed away to join the rest of the chembarons, you were left with an uneasy feeling in your gut. The way he made you feel - small, unimportant, a burden - it was not an easy pill to swallow that your boyfriend was as cruel as he was. It seemed that being part of a covert operation to bring forth the greater good was not something he was suited for. And it angered you.

And still as you ruminated over the horrible display of toxic masculinity, that feeling of Silco's eyes on you burned your skin. You turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze. He wasn't even listening to the meeting. He didn't care what Finn had to say. He would never care again.

-

When the meeting concluded, and Finn tossed his coat at you before leaving, you sank into an empty chair. The room was empty, the rest of the more important people going to finalize plans for another shimmer plant, and all that was left was you and this stupid fucking coat. You gripped it in your smaller hands, wishing beyond anything that you would be able to tear it into pieces and cast it into the River Pilt.

You screamed in agony before slamming the coat onto the table. It felt good, but not good enough. And before you could even allow yourself the joy of letting some of that go, you heard clapping behind you.

Turning, you laid eyes on Silco. So the room wasn't empty. He stalked toward you with a smirk on his face. The older man always carried himself with such bravado, such confidence, not unlike Finn. But there was a key difference between the two: Experience.

Silco was successful long before the chembarons came together. Independently achieving goals left and right before any of them had even had the chance to taste Topside. Long before Finn was even born.

And here he was, stalking toward you like it was nothing. You watched him come closer, clasping his hands behind his back, and looking you over.

"Quite impressive the way you stand your ground in the face of something like that. Are you quite alright?" His low voice reverberated off the walls of the room, as large as it was, and you could feel it in your bones.

"Well," you began, trying to find your words. "I'm fine, but... That's him I guess."

"Regardless, it was quite the sight to see. I don't exactly know what the cause was for that kind of reaction, but it seems if I know Finn enough, it was likely his fault." A smirk lifted his features as he gave what you assumed to be his version of comfort. A smirk to which you responded with a small smile of your own.

"That's very kind of you to say," you admit softly.

-

And that was how you found yourself bent over the table - on top of Finn's elaborate coat - in the meeting room. The same meeting room where Finn had berated you earlier, the same meeting room where the meeting between the society of chembarons had taken place, and the same place where Silco - of all people - had given you comfort.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. You didn't exactly expect him to be as large as he was, but you also thought you'd seen all you'd ever get with Finn. And now, with his hands around your waist and his hips against the swell of your ass, you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time this kind of meeting would occur between the two of you.

Heavy breathing and grunts behind gritted teeth sounded out from behind you as harsh snaps of hips shook your entire being. You could feel the hard edge of the wood digging into your flesh as you were pounded into the surface of the table like a thing to be used. And you were loving every second of it.

At the height of your ecstasy, when Silco was growling the filthiest things in your ear, you heard the sound of the heavy door being opened. Your eyes opened and you caught sight of your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Ex-boyfriend, that is. It's a fair trade-off for this kind of lust.

#silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco fanfic #lol silco #silco imagine #silco simp #netflix arcane #laura love's 100 followers blurb party #silco x gn reader #gn reader #arcane silco #arcane netflix #arcane #arcane league of legends #silco fanfiction #silco x you #silco x gn!reader #silco x reader smut #arcane smut #silco/gn reader #silco/you #silco/reader #silco/reader smut #silco/gn reader smut

[findmeinthelake]

Golden Mirror

Silco X Reader fic <3 (gender neutral)

Rating: G

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

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be safe.

It was supposed to be secure.

But no.

Of course it went like this.

No one like you is allowed nice things.

Not for a minute.

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

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

You knew the risks.

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

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

And the screams grew louder.

Were they yours? Or were they from the mercenary? 

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

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

This was more confusing than comforting.

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

Your hands hurt.

— — ( • ) — — 

“Wake up.”

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

He walks over. 

What’s his name?

Silco. How could you forget?

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

You groaned, rubbing at your temple. 

“I thought I was-”

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

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

Ah, yes. You were at work.

At home.

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

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

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

You looked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was he more talkative today?

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

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

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

Strange.

#silco #silco arcane #arcane fanfic #fanfic #silco x reader #silco x you #gn reader #silco x male reader #silco x gn!reader #silco x female reader #fluff #silco fluff #tension #silco canonically applies makeup #silco takes a while to warm up to people

[ursawastricked]

The Glimmering Pearl

Silco x f!reader Moulin Rouge inspired fan fiction

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

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

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

word count: 3,289

total wordcont: 3,289

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yippie! my first big fic!

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

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

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

[x-amount-verbs]

Silco teaching you pool from behind...with his arms around you... whispering instructions very close onto your ear that you feel every breath he takes, feel every small motion of his head right next to yours...and the feeling of his chest against your back...and he pulls out the good ole "good girl" when you get it right...and he doesn't immediately pull away after...and then when you look at him his face is in the perfect position for a lil kith-

[this isn’t all of that, cause I don’t know enough about pool, and am in the middle of some other stuff but uh— in the meantime; here, anon, have fun] [inspired by this piece by @angelqueen13art ]

Corner Pocket (silco x gn!reader, sfw)

“This is completely unnecessary,” you argue, feeling the heat spreading across your chest and up your neck.

Silco’s expression is infuriatingly demure apart from the sly hook to his lips, eyes downcast as he chalks the cue. All he offers is a mockingly consoling hum.

“I know how to shoot,” you point out.

“—People,” he finishes for you.

“-Which I would argue are more important than balls.”

He glances up, brow cocked as he lets you consider your words, and you scowl as the heat works its way across your cheeks.

“Not like that,” you mutter, shifting restlessly. His soft huff of laughter makes your ears burn. Hopefully he can’t tell.

As he moves into your space, you find yourself tensing up, going still, breath caught in your chest.

“Consider it a lesson.” That smoky drawl buzzes in the air between you as he offers the cue. As soon as you take it, his other hand brushes your back, making you jump. Eyes never break from yours, and he only keeps that knowing smirk as he slides his touch from the small of your back to the curve of your waist, a gentle pressure instructing you to turn.

The look you shoot him is as warning as it is wary. But you obey.

Silco’s body pressing up behind you, conforming to yours, is incredibly distracting from the so-called ‘lesson.’

Your words are a low indignant mumble. “…I don’t need you to-”

One hand presses you down, the other sliding along your arm to find your grip on the cue, putting your body into the shape he wants as he covers it.

Cheeks burn as a foot nudges your legs further apart. A tug low in your gut has your toes curling in your boots.

Silco adjusts your arms into the proper position. “Humor me,” he murmurs against your ear, close enough that each close-mouthed ‘m’ feels like a kiss.

#silco #silco arcane #arcane imagines #silco x reader #silco x gn!reader #silco x gender neutral reader #silco/reader #x-amount-writes #drabble #this would be longer but I’m working on the multichap lol

[zkyfall]

For the 5 sentence prompt: Silco realizing he’s in love with reader while they’re having sex?

Send me a HC and I'll write 5 sentences about it 💖

Awww this one was adorable, thank you for the prompt, juniper! Kinda proud of this one, no lie. 😙

NSFW clearly, Silco x GN!Reader

“Ouch, fuck! Stop, stop!” you yelp as searing agony shoots through you. 

Silco freezes mid-thrust and pulls back until he’s not touching you at all, save for the barest touch of his hand on your shoulder, “what’s wrong?” 

“Fuck, fuck, I got a cramp,” you groan and curl your body around your throbbing calf. 

Tears of pain blur your vision but when the Eye of Zaun scoffs and commands you to straighten out your leg, your shoulders start to shake with barely restrained laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

Strong, impatient fingers brush your hands aside and dig into the aching muscle, massaging it, and you can barely hear him curse you under his breath, “You idiot . . . I thought I hurt you.”

#silco x gn!reader #silco x reader #arcane silco #run on sentences are the name of the game bby #ask box

[a-gal-with-taste]

Merciless (Kinktober Day 14)

Torture; that's what this was. You weren't sure why you were surprised.

508 WC | Silco X GN!Reader

Orgasm-Denial, edging, teasing, dom/sub, manhanding, fingering, desk sex

The Eye of Zaun was not known to give into begging, into pleas. You knew this -  most of the Undercity was already aware, that the man known for having not a single-speck of mercy in his body, was not likely to suddenly gain one, several years into his unofficial reign over the Underground.

Still, you couldn't help but beg him anyways.

"Please."

Silence. And even worst, stillness.

"Silco," You voice cracking on his name, the sound of which causes your toes, and trapped-fingers to curl, every muscle quivering in the unbearable quiet, and even more heartaching stillness that had become of the man. "Silco, please."

The only response was a brief, involuntary twitch of his fingers - the one bringing your trapped wrists clamped-tight together at the small of your back, and the ones stuffed inside you. It was enough to make a weak, barely audible keen burst from your lips, and enough for a chuckle to slip out between his own, quiet and cool.

Not prone to mercy. Still, you begged anyways, unable to turn to catch his expression as his own thighs pinned you against the desk, leaving you bent, forward-facing, and entirely at his mercy.

Which, as established, Silco possessed none. So you were left in a merciless environment, one evident by the fact that he was far too content to taunt, to tease, than he was to tip you over the edge.

Torture, that's what it was.

You weren't sure why you were surprised.

Another flex of his fingers within you, draws out a choked-babbling from your lips in time with him pressing harshly, but all-too-briefly against your inner-walls. You press your face down to the desk, panting heavily, no doubt staining the papers that remain with your salivation of ecstasy, and tears of torment - the fact that they mingle in time, with the sensations of equal pleasure, a cruel coincidence.

And the fact that you have no idea when they ever plan to stop, is a coincidence as well.

Lips, scarred and uneven, press against the base of your spine, just below your neck, in time with a distinct, reaching-curl that strikes so perfectly inside of you, that the ragged, broken moan is almost as loud as the shriek of his name that follows, when his fingers halt there so insufferably soon, afterwards.

"Say please again," He murmurs against your spine, his voice traveling the entire length of it; dreadful and pleasant, as the owner is. "Say it."

It's not said, it's damn-near croaked out. Weak and pliant, desperate, and pathetic as can be. It vocalizes the absolutely, longstanding want your body requires, needs at this point. The desire that every atom, even muscle, every breath in your body that has been denied, over, and over, over and over-again...

You need it.

"Silco, please."

There's a smile along your skin. Scarred, and uneven... and, as you're about to experience yet-again with even slower, more careful ministrations of his fingers than ever before, a smile that is utterly, and totally unmerciful.

#silco #silco x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #arcane #arcane x reader #mdni #18+ #silco x gn!reader #arcane silco

[ace-of-zaun]

Don't Go (One-shot):

young!silco x gn!reader - 3.6k words - SFW 

cw: angst, fluff, breakup conversations, happy ending, reconciliation, arguments, silco struggling with his emotions, little bit possessive, soft silco, suggestive ending (this one is pretty angsty but don’t worry, it all works out in the end!)

summary: Silco, your long time boyfriend, does something you’d begged him not to, so you regretfully decide that you need a break from him. Silco has other plans. 

You didn't want to go. Not really. 

But after Vander’s revelation, you felt like you had no choice. 

Silco had been all fired up the night before, ranting and raving about his latest (and quite frankly terrible) plan of breaking into the Sheriff’s office Topside to gain information about any upcoming raids in your neighbourhood. 

The surprise Enforcer raids had been hitting businesses across Zaun at random, an M.O of storming in and ransacking each place with no clear means or motive, and definitely without any warning. 

Understandably then, Vander, Silco, and you had been particularly concerned that a raid would hit The Last Drop any day now, and despite every effort to hide anything that could give you away, there was a real fear that your revolutionary group would be discovered and brutally dismantled. 

But the idea of breaking into the Sheriff’s office of all places was beyond dangerous and to your frustration, you just couldn’t get Silco to listen to reason.

You’d pleaded with him not to do something so risky. You’d tried to calm down, told him to just wait until you could all discuss it together as a group and come up with a plan that wasn’t so grandiose, and in your view, completely and utterly stupid. 

Eventually, Silco had gotten frustrated and rolled his eyes, grumbling that he wouldn’t go as he’d slunk off downstairs to no doubt drink the night away in the bar. 

This morning you’d woken with him fast asleep by the side of you in bed and, assuming he’d wasted the evening drinking himself dry, you thought nothing of it until later this afternoon when you’d found out the truth from Vander. 

Silco had gone Topside to scout out the building that housed the Sheriff’s office. 

Vander had desperately tried to reassure you that Silco wouldn’t have done anything stupid but it had done absolutely nothing to douse the flames of anger and hurt spreading through you. 

The damage was done. 

Now, salty tears finally drying on your cheeks, you stand in your shared bedroom packing your belongings into the rucksack laid out on your bed. 

Silco is still out running errands so there's a note placed carefully on the desk in your bedroom. It's not ideal, but it's for the best. 

However cowardly it makes you feel to reduce your breakup to a measly note, you're too emotionally drained to even think about having another argument with him.

You just can’t deal with it right now. 

Planning to stay with a friend until you found somewhere you could afford by yourself, you convince yourself that if he truly wants you back, if he truly wants to fix things, he’ll come and find you.

You’ve already packed the easy things, like most of your clothes and your toiletries from the bathroom. The real challenge now it would seem is the more sentimental items, like the pile of gifts currently lined up on the bed that you’d received from Silco over the years. 

The little toy poro he'd scrimped and saved to buy you for your birthday that one year. Or the matching sunglasses he'd stolen as a little souvenir from your third date. 

As you stare down at the gifts on the bed wondering if you’ll have enough room to bring them all, the door opens behind you.

You freeze, knowing exactly who it is before he’s even spoken. 

"There you are," Silco announces, his voice clearly tired but still laced with a hint of relief. "Vander said you were-" 

He cuts himself off as he undoubtedly takes in the state of the bedroom before speaking again in a tone of pure shock. 

"What are you doing?" 

You can’t bring yourself to answer so instead busy yourself with shoving all of the gifts into your bag before he can see them. 

"No," he breathes out from the doorway as it dawns on him. 

It sends a horrible pang of hurt ringing in your chest, only made worse when he pleadingly says your name.

"Please don't do this." 

"I have to, Silco," you sigh, trying to keep your heart as closed off as you can. It hurts enough as it is without you letting your emotions run wild. 

"You don't,” he says. “You don't have to." 

You stop answering because you can tell this particular line of conversation will just go in circles. 

Behind you, he shuts the door with a click and it irritates you into shoving more into the bag, no longer caring about being neat or if you should leave anything behind. 

"Is this because of what happened last week? I already told you that wasn't my fault," Silco continues when you don’t respond or turn to face him. 

He's referring to the incident where he almost got shot after taunting some enforcers for no good reason.

Truth be told, that incident had absolutely terrified you, but it was just one of the many reasons why you couldn’t keep doing this. 

"No, it isn't because of that," you say flatly. 

"Then why?" 

You finally turn to look at him, the first time since he’d left the bar this morning. (He looks gorgeous and like he's on the verge of heartbreak and you hate that you still love him despite it all.) 

"Where did you go last night?" you ask flatly, looking him square in the eyes.

As expected his expression instantly turns stony, but after years of learning and reading his tells, you can see the twitches of regret in his eyes. 

A few beats of silence pass and you know he’s too stubborn to admit it out loud. 

Your response is quiet. Resigned. 

"That's why."

Turning back round to face the bed, you begin to shove down all your belongings as far down into the bag as they can go, making sure you have enough room for the last bits that you know are in the wardrobe. 

"Look, I'm sorry for doing it behind your back, but I had to go," he starts, and it feels like the beginning of the heated argument that you were so desperately hoping to avoid.

Your cool facade broken, you whirl round to face him straight on, built-up ire finally pouring out of you in reams. 

"No, you didn't have to go! You went because you wanted to and you went even though I asked you- no, begged you not to," you yell at him.

He flinches minutely at the sudden raise in volume, but keeps his own voice calm and steady when he crafts his response. 

"You don't understand, this is important," he emphasises. "They cannot find out what we’re doing to fight against them, not when we’re this close to finally having the lives we deserve, that all of us deserve.”

It takes all your strength not to give in to his words and continue the argument with an incredulous scoff.

As if you don’t know all that. As if you didn’t spend your days fighting for Zaun as well. 

As if you didn’t fight every second for him. 

You shut it down immediately, twisting back round to face the bed. 

"I'm not doing this," you say blankly. 

"What?" he replies, clearly stunned. 

"I'm not arguing with you, Silco. I'm leaving." 

It breaks your heart to say it, but in this moment, you see no other way forward. Not if he’s going to keep on like this. 

Silco says nothing as you pack away the rest of your belongings into your bag, briefly recalling that you still have a few last bits in the wardrobe. You're almost certain that his anger is charging up in the silence, readying himself to launch into a whole speech about how wrong you are.

But when he does speak again, the sound of his choked-up voice feels like a shot directly to your heart.  

"You can't leave." 

Your heart sinks into your stomach and everything within you practically screams to cross the room and hug him, but you know that if you even look at him you’ll end up changing your mind. So, you move over to the wardrobe instead and pull open the doors to ensure he’s not in your line of sight. 

Silco says your name in that horribly soft timbre he only uses when he’s desperate and even though it pretty much tears you apart to ignore him, you focus on pulling the rest of your clothes from the closet.

He speaks your name again, this time even more desperately and you suddenly find yourself biting back tears. 

Fuck, why did he have to come home early? Why couldn't you just have some time to grieve by yourself? 

"Silco, it's over," you bite out, just wanting this horrible situation to be done with so you can work on healing. 

Finally moving into the room, you hear his footsteps creak on the old wooden floorboards behind you. 

You brace yourself for him to take your hand or wrap his arms around you but to your confusion, his footsteps halt in the centre of the room and you hear an unexpected rustling sound instead. 

Spinning around, you find Silco holding your backpack upside down in the air, emptying the contents back onto the bed with vigorous shakes. Your belongings drop onto the sheets in a crumpled mess, undoing all your work to get them all into the rucksack. 

Silco glares at the bag with tight-lipped hatred, as if it’s the reason you’re leaving, the longer strands of his hair falling down and bouncing with each rough movement of his arms. 

You stare at him in disbelief, your jaw slack until you find the words to confront him.  

"What the fuck, Silco? Put them back!"

He grips the bag even tighter. 

"No." 

And just like that, your astonishment slides into anger. 

"Silco," you warn, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Put. Them. Back." 

"Not if it means you'll stay," he replies obstinately. 

He continues to shake the bag but, ever the impatient boy, gets too frustrated and decides to drop the bag onto the bed. Rapidly taking out handfuls of your belongings until the backpack is empty, he then throws it at the wall furthest from you with a grunt. 

Silco’s gaze slides to look at you from across the room and you both stare at each other breathlessly, chests borderline heaving. 

A clear challenge. 

Unfortunately for Silco, you can be stubborn too. 

Without another word, you reach into the wardrobe and pull out his backpack, moving over to the other side of the bed to restart your packing. 

This time, Silco rushes around the bed to you and tries to grab your hand, but you pull it away, taking a step back. 

"Just stop-" 

"Please don't leave me," he pleads in the most heartbreaking, riven timbre you’ve ever heard him speak in and your heart wrenches. 

He sounds like the little boy you’d met all that time ago in those dark mines, the one who was so desperate to no longer be alone. 

"I'll do anything, I can't do this without you," he begs. 

"Do what without me?" 

"Any of it," he blurts out, running a distressed hand through his hair. "Some days, the only thing that gets me through the day is knowing that you'll be here when I get home."

Your insides jolt at such a vulnerable confession from such a headstrong man, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get when he suddenly drops to one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in both of his. 

Heart racing ten to the dozen, you watch in horror as he glances up at you. 

He’d better not be doing what you think he’s doing…

"Silco-" 

"I love you," he says. "I love you more than anything in the world." 

You watch as tears line his lashes and soon find yourself matching. 

Fuck, you were expecting yelling and anger, not this. 

You’ve never seen him like this before. 

"Please," he repeats and it cracks your mask in two.

Your knees give out and you let yourself sink down onto the floor with him. 

Silco immediately throws his arms around you, only just stopping you from falling back with how quickly he presses his body against yours, burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

On instinct, you wrap your arms around his frame, one hand rubbing his back whilst the other cards through his inky strands as he rocks you gently from side to side. 

Little whispers of “Don't go,” and “I need you,” are mumbled into your hair, and you’re almost certain the wetness on your neck is from those tears that had been threatening to break free. You kindly decide not to mention it. 

Eventually, you sigh and rest your forehead on his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut in a pitiful attempt to ease the difficult conversation up ahead. 

"Sil, I can't keep doing this."

He sniffles a little and pulls back to look at you but doesn’t let go. (He never lets go.)

"Doing what?" he asks, brows furrowing in that cute little way he does when he’s confused about something. 

"Watching you destroy yourself." 

"I'm not-" 

"You are, Silco, and it's hurting me," you enunciate, holding his cheeks to force his gaze on you. He needs to understand how serious you are about this. 

The horrified expression on his face instinctively causes you to brush some of his hair back tenderly while he processes your words. 

"I want a better Zaun too, but not at the cost of you sacrificing yourself," you continue, keeping your voice quiet but firm. 

He’s clearly overwhelmed, seafoam eyes so wide and trenched in deep-rooted panic. But with a lack of response to distract you, you’re forced to take notice of the pain spreading through your back and legs at the awkward sitting position you’re in. 

You shift your body, pulling away from him to situate yourself in a comfier position, but the second you loosen your arms from his thin frame, his hand desperately grip you even tighter, clutching onto you like a child to their mother’s leg. 

"No, I-"

"I'm not going anywhere, I just need to move before my legs go numb," you’re quick to reassure him. 

At this, Silco relaxes slightly, allowing you to move so your back is resting against the side of the bed. His fingers clasp onto your shirt the entire time and the very second you’re planted in a spot that doesn’t completely ruin your spine, he pulls you against him once more. 

"What- What can I do to make you stay?" he says between a harsh swallow. 

 You sigh, swiping a hand across your face tiredly. 

"I need you to stop this ridiculous crusade you're on. Or," you add when he goes to protest, "at the very least, include the rest of us in it." 

He bites the inside of his lip and entwines his fingers with yours. 

"You can't keep making reckless decisions by yourself, Sil. It affects all of us. Especially me." 

Silco keeps quiet for a few moments, so you give him time to think while his thumb rhythmically traces your knuckles back and forth. 

This can’t be easy for him. He’s pretty independent by nature (most Undercity kids are), but Silco is especially so when it comes to the fight for Zaun’s freedom. 

But if he wants you to stay, you’re going to need some compromise. 

"Okay," he eventually says, breaking the silence to gaze at you with muted hope. 

You’re not letting him off that easily. 

"Okay what?" you say expectantly. 

He sighs and suddenly he’s transformed into that petulant little boy again. 

"Okay, I'll run things by you and Vander before making any big decisions," Silco heaves, like it physically pains him to say. 

"And?" you prompt with a raised eyebrow. 

Silco stares at you with a look of disbelief, but his lip is curled in clear disgust. 

"There's no way I'm running anything by Benzo," he scoffs. "It'd be more useful talking to a brick wall." 

You slap his arm half heartedly and bite back a laugh. 

"No! I meant, are you going to stop throwing yourself into stupid situations for no reason?" 

"I knew you were still upset about last week," Silco replies, a knowing expression melting across his features. 

"Of course I'm upset about it! They almost shot you!" you fire back with indignation. 

As if you wouldn’t be horrified at the idea of your boyfriend getting seriously hurt and potentially arrested just for being an idiot. 

Silco gently combs his fingers through your hair, eyes tracing your features as that smug little smirk you secretly adore colours his lips. 

"The key word in that sentence is almost, my lovely." 

The glare you level him with is met by a crooked grin, but it’s soon wiped off his face when you jab his stomach with your elbow, ignoring the “Oof,” in favour of cuddling up to him even closer.

Silco lets out a sigh of relief and rests his head against yours whilst one hand sneaks up behind you to surreptitiously wipe his eyes dry with his sleeve. 

You allow yourself to relax for a few quiet moments, slowly calming each other down with soft touches until your breathing syncs up with the boy holding you close to his chest. 

Silco soon murmurs into your hair, hand smoothing along your waist. 

"So you'll stay?" 

"Yes, I'll stay," you reply softly, nestling into the crook of his neck. 

It’s seemingly not enough to soothe his nerves because he leans back and tilts your chin up with one finger until you meet his anxious gaze. 

"You promise?" 

"I promise, Silco." 

Relief melts through his whole body, but with it brings a cool wash of physical and emotional exhaustion that you wish you could wipe clean. 

"You know you can always talk to me, right?” you tell him gently, pinky finger delicately tracing along one eyebrow until the lines of his face relax. “I know you're always so busy trying to keep us afloat but you don't have to do it all alone. You can tell me when things are bothering you, it doesn’t make you weak or ‘less of a man’." 

He gazes at you in profound wonder before lightly cupping one side of your face with his hand. 

"I really do love you," he whispers, tenderly tracing one thumb down your cheek.

It feels like the weight of your near-breakup is lifted off your shoulders when you finally say it back. 

"I love you too, Sil." 

He leans down to kiss your head and you find yourself desperately hoping that he keeps his promise. You never want to have to go through this again. 

But for now, graced with another chance to stay with the only person you’ve ever loved, you focus on the present, needing to change the heavy atmosphere stifling the room. Your tone shifts into a light, coy thing that immediately grabs his attention. 

"You know, if you hadn't rushed in all guns blazing last night you'd have had the chance to listen to my plan for getting the info we need," you tell him. "Y'know, one that wouldn't get you thrown in Stillwater." 

Silco stares at you with a frown and you struggle to keep in the smile that threatens to break. 

"What plan?" 

"The one where I seduce a poor, unsuspecting enforcer and use a bit of good old-fashioned lip service to get what we need," you say coquettishly, batting your eyelashes at him innocently despite the clear innuendo lacing your words. 

Instantly, (brilliantly), his seafoam eyes darken with a delicious combination of jealousy and lust, sending a spark of hot desire through your body. 

"Not in a million years," he says gruffly, pulling you even closer to him. 

You twirl a playful finger through your hair. 

"I don't know, I think it's a great plan if you ask me," you reply with an air of teasing nonchalance. 

"I wouldn't let you anywhere near them,” his grip tightens on the fabric by your waist. “You're mine.”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, knowing exactly what it does to him. 

"Prove it." 

There’s a beat of electrified silence before Silco abruptly stands, pulling you up with him until you’re both on your feet.

He smoothly coils one arm around your waist, the other snaking around the nape of your neck until his lips hover tantalisingly above yours. And just when you think he’s about to finally close the gap, he pauses.

You frown, chest flooding with anxiety that you’ve done something wrong, or he’s changed his mind, or-

Silco removes the hand resting behind your head and before you can voice your concerns, he suddenly grabs the bed sheet, ripping it off the bed in a move that sends the mess of your once-packed belongings tumbling to the floor in a cacophony. 

"Silco!" you admonish him, already envisioning the amount of time and effort it would take to pick everything up and put it back in its rightful place. 

"What?” he says, like butter wouldn’t melt. “We can put it back in the morning." 

Then, he swiftly picks you up and tosses you onto the mattress, making you squeal in surprise. 

Silco kneels onto the bed and climbs until his body is hovering over yours, arms caging you in as you heat up, warmth flooding downwards in anticipation. 

"Now, I think it's time I make it up to you, sweetheart," he purrs, leaning down to hotly trace your ear with his lips. “I’m going to make sure you never want to leave this bed again.”

- A/N: don’t mind me, just casually obsessed with the idea of silco emptying out your bag to desperately stop you from leaving and then frenziedly trying to propose to you when he doesn’t know to deal with his emotions 💁‍♀️

#silco x reader #silco x you #silco x gn!reader #silco x f!reader #silco x m!reader #silco #silco fic #silco arcane #one shot

[ughthisisntright]

sub silco

oooooo this ignited something in me...

NSFW below the cut

silco masterlist

"Oh, Gods, please..." a low, gravelly whimper echoed throughout the office as a wet squelching sound could be heard. The way the voice begged was music amongst the sad sounds of the Undercity. If anyone else were to hear the little whimpers and moans inside this room they'd surely change opinions about the state of their homeland.

After all, having Silco beneath you, begging for you, whining for your touch, it was more than empowering.

"Oh, Silco," you said with an amused tone. You'd been enjoying this far too much. Or, at least, more than you'd expected to. "Look at you. Such a mess for me... Begging, whimpering, pathetic. It's such a good look on you."

"Oh, darling, you're- hah... You're far better than I imagined... Oh..." he groaned as his voice took on a new pitch you'd had yet to hear from him. You could tell he was desperate.

"You want more, love? You want me to make you feel even more pleasure?" You smirked and turned your attention to your hands. One hand was wrapped around his thick cock, pumping slowly and meticulously. Your other hand, hidden from his view, was toying with the sensitive skin of his asshole. Your fingers were deep inside him, rubbing against a particularly rubbery spot that made his noises all the more delectable.

"Beg for more, Silco," you purred as you began stroking him faster. "Beg me to let you cum."

His body responded the way you'd hoped. Writhing beneath your skilled hands as your fingers worked him open quickly and stroked his prostate with methodical movements. Sweat beaded at his hair line and you could see the way his cheeks twitched as he clenched his teeth. Surefire signs he was desperate to regain control over the situation, but there's nothing he can do now. He's simply too far gone.

Drunk off of you.

"Please, please, let me... Ah, let me cum... I-I'll be so good... Just like you are for me-!" Silco whined desperately. You lowered your head and took his quivering length in your mouth. And then, you sucked him off till you were positive he was seeing white.

#silco #silco fanfic #silco x reader #lol silco #silco arcane #silco imagine #silco simp #netflix arcane #silco x gn!reader #arcane silco #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #silco fanfiction #laura love's 100 followers blurb party

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

SFW only

Oneshots

Sacrifice Reader takes Powder's crystals and hands them over to the enforcers presenting herself as the scapegoat. Being the last kid that Vander had taken in no one would even miss her, right?

Oneshots

Vampire!Vi/Caitlyn/Jinx x gn!reader One scenario for each. When the bloodbank got robbed Caitlyn has nothing to feed on. You're more than willing to share your blood. - blood, blood sucking, petname bunny, kisses -

Oneshots

Vampire!Vi/Caitlyn/Jinx x gn!reader One scenario for each. When you realize you're being stalked by a Vampire you don't see any other way besides confronting them. - blood, blood sucking -

Oneshots

Silco x gn!reader Soft Silco as a dad hours. pure fluff

Silco x fem!reader Silco is late and his girls can't help but worry

Series

Vander x Bartender!Waitress!reader A series of little standalone fics following fem!reader and her relationship with Vander and their kids Warnings at the start of each chapter - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -

Oneshots

Vander x fem!reader When Vander wants to sacrifice himself you realize that you can't let him do it. The kids need him. The lanes need him. - angst, hurt/comfort, abduction, forced drug use, torture, character death -

Vander x fem!reader You have a panic attack, luckily Vander is there to help. - panic attack, explicit violence/gore -

Mother's Day Vander x fem!reader The kids and Vander prepare a surprise for you.

Oneshots

Vampire!Vi/Caitlyn/Jinx x gn!reader One scenario for each. You're bad at fighting and Vi hates injustice. - blood, blood sucking, Vi punches people (surprise), hand/wrist kisses) -

#the sewer writes #arcane #arcane x reader #vander x reader #reader x vander #silco x reader #fem!reader #gn!reader #vi x reader #reader x vi #jinx x reader #caitlyn x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort

[x-amount-verbs]

Sinners Stained Red

Have a snippet of something I started writing Fuck it, this is a finished piece. A drabble based on this art by @iseutz that has been languishing as a wip on my drive while I work on HH stuff.

[silco x gn!reader] [~850 words] [no use of y/n] [rated M for implied violence, but sfw] [modern au] [mob au] [sadist!silco] [sadist!reader] [tw offscreen torture (not to named characters)] [blood]

AO3 Link

He’s so fucking extra.

You snort a derisive laugh at the sight of blood-soaked hands holding a lit cigarette as Silco looks out over the common area. Up here from his high tower where he can see his people milling about between jobs. And, more importantly, they can see him.

“Ruined another shirt,” you observe, lips hooked in a smirk. “You could really stand to wear gloves, too.”

His good eye slides over to you, subtle smile hidden as he takes another drag. “Where’s the fun in that?” The murmured words curl in the air, visible as smoke.

You want to laugh. Approaching with silent steps, your eyes scan the crowd below. His people. The family. Each upturned face is noted in your mind. Those brave or stupid enough to watch their leader’s mid-interrogation smoke break. The fear, the respect, the anxiety. Your amusement is hard to hide, but you manage, voice wry. “You’re terrifying them.”

Silco hums a confirmation. Leaning on the railing of the upper floor, his red-stained hands are visible to anyone looking up— as is his unaffected demeanor. “Good.” His eyes drift almost unseeing over the crowd, managing to look completely disinterested. The words come out a quiet drawl, lips hardly moving. “Watch the one in green.”

You dutifully find the girl in the crowd, and even from here her mix of awe and terror is clear.

Silco turns, leaning back against the rail, eyes moving to you even as you keep watching. As soon as his back is turned, the girl hurriedly makes excuses to leave.

“A rat?” you guess, watching how she interacts with others as she heads for the doors.

“Mm.” The slight incline of his chin is as close as you’ll get to a nod, when he’s trying to be unreadable from afar. “Feeling the water rise. If we’re lucky, she’ll take more with her.”

You note three potential others to look into, based on shared glances or a careful hand on the back of a shoulder as she squeezes by. Maybe not all of them agents, but all may be weak links.

“Speaking of rats…” You raise a brow at Silco, then nod to his sticky forearms. “That legit, or did you just want to force people to open doors for you?”

One scarlet hand is offered for your inspection even as he takes another drag, his audience downstairs forgotten in favor of your conversation. “I don’t need an excuse for my men to open doors for me.”

His white sleeves are far from spotless, but they’re cleaner to grasp onto than his skin. Holding the fabric at his elbow, you delicately pinch his wrist between two fingers, like it’s something particularly undesirable. Far from the truth, if you’re honest; something about blood on his hands makes him even more appealing.

Spotting the useless sleeve garters, you glance up at him with a smirk from under lowered lashes. “All this classy finery, and you don’t even use them properly?”

Bloody fingers bring the cigarette to his lips, but his eyes stay on you, entertained. “I’ll have you know I always wear my clothes properly. And well.”

A short hum in your throat agrees, swaying toward him and lifting your chin. He does have impeccable style. It adds to his gravitas in every meeting, and his air of professionalism in every front.

Silco pulls back in a minuscule movement, gaze cutting sideways as he shifts just so to draw your attention to the crowd below.

Right. You give up on your subtle request, rocking back again. “Well, then you obviously need someone to ‘properly’ roll your sleeves, if you’re wearing them loose like some sort of harlot.” The jeer is sweet under your breath, too low for anyone to hear and too murmured for your lips to be easily read.

Another drag, gaze bright and sharp. “My forearms so tempting to you?”

Your fingers slide along the railing as you watch him, but you resist any sort of public display. Still. “Very much so, yes.” You grin.

His sharp breath is a laugh, through pressed lips, smoke a brief jet. He simply watches you, calculating. Then he looks back down at his people. The smart ones are minding their own business. The stupid ones look away. Only the most idiotic dare to stare back.

“How’s work?” you ask casually, sweetly.

Thin lips and sharp eyes convey that biting wit without him having to say a word. He still does. “You know, they say torture doesn’t get results, but I’d argue it’s much more entertaining than appeasement.”

“How far did you get with the interrogation?”

“Oh we got the basics of what was necessary yesterday. This is just a bit of anger management. My therapist says it’s important to find ways to vent my frustration.” His drawling tone is so dry you feel it sucking at your skin.

“Still at it?”

Silco’s eyes rake the crowd again, then he pushes off of the rail, heading for the door he’d come out of. “Was about to break out the brand, if you’d care to join?”

You grin. “How could I ever refuse?”

—

AO3 Link

[If you liked this, feel free to boost it! Or give it some love on ao3. I also monch cronch the comments left for me and grind them into meal for new stories, so maybe leave comments? Tags? If you have more mob au prompts or art, feel free to share them on here or in my inbox.

If you want a less bloody but still sadistic Silco, A Helping Hand features a more… let’s say disciplinarian form of sadism 👀

If you’re new, you can find more if my work here, if you’re interested. ❤️ -verbs]

Join the tag list for new works by commenting on this linked post. @dad-dumpster @foppishish @leave-me-alone-doctor @mazikomo

#silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #silco x gn!reader #silco x gender neutral reader #modern au #x-amount-writes #wip:sinners stained red #mob au #sinners stained red