#silco simp

You were the one soft thing in his life. The one thing that was untouched by evil, or greed, or hate. When he found you wandering alone around an entrance into the Undercity, he knew from the moment he saw you.. you were different.

You had been giving a homeless person, probably shimmer addicted and dangerous, food. And soft words. And your time. Something he never thought he’d see. Someone so gentle they would think about sewer rats like that. You’d gone so far as to sit next to them, pulling whatever you could out of your bag for them to have. “I’m sorry I don’t have more.” You had said softly, practically sending a shiver up his spine at the time. And then you had offered to bring more tomorrow.

And so, that next day he waited at that entrance. And around that same time, you came back with an extra bag full of food. Good food. Homemade. He watched as you walked along the wall, offering some to anyone who was there. And when you’d reached the entrance.. you saw him.

“Sir?” You’d asked with a soft tone. “Would you like something to eat?”

He could see you were hesitant- as you should be. You’d probably grown up being told of the dangers of the Undercity.. but here you stood, putting yourself in harms way for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Hm.” He had hummed as his eyes trailed over you. “What is it?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

As you stepped closer to him with a shy smile, you opened your bag to show him. “Oh, it’s just muffins. Nothing too special, but I thought they might help.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a blueberry muffin wrapped in tissue paper and offered it to him. He stared at your hand for a moment before tentatively taking it from you.

“I see.” He murmured quietly as his eyes meet your own. Stepping into the light, he walked closer to you and kept his gaze on yours. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He mused faintly. “This is a dangerous place, you know.”

When you saw his full face in the light you shrunk back slightly, but only for a moment. Staying still, you look right back up at him, much to his amusement. He didn’t think he remembered a time when someone hadn’t cowered under his gaze. “You don’t seem like the rest of them” you said softly as your eyes scanned over his face.

“Well aren’t you clever” he chuckled faintly. “If any other topsider was this close to my territory.. I fear we’d have a problem.” He murmurs with a small smirk. “But you pose no threat to me, little one.”

“You talk like you’re in charge..” you murmur as you take a step back, eyes glancing over his slender form.

He smirked wider at your words, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. “That’s because I am.” He muses followed by the click of his lighter.

Before he can say anything else, you suddenly pull the cigar out of his hand, leaving him stunned as he looked down at you. “Don’t you know this is bad for you?” You huff as you look up at him with a scolding look. “What kind of leader doesn’t care about his own health?”

He stares down at you completely dumbfounded. The nerve alone.. you threw him for a loop completely. Before he can think he lunges forward to try and grab the cigar, but you quickly move away, a smile forming on your lips. “Hey! No- you’re not getting this back”

Your innocence makes him sick. But your smile makes someone inside of him burn. “You are nothing but a pest” he growls as he stalks towards you.

When you realize how angry he looks you can’t help but laugh as you walk backwards. “I’m trying to save your life here” you grin cheekily as you playfully try to get away from him. Before you know it you’re halfway through the threshold into the Undercity.

When Silco realizes how close you are into the dangers of Zaun he rushes forward, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pinning you against the stone wall. His breath is heavy as he keeps you there, staring down at you as he collects himself from his anger. “Never.. go in there alone.” He says lowly, a rough growl near your ear. “Do you understand me?”

Your smile had quickly been wiped away when he grabbed you, a surprised sound slipping past your lips when he pinned you against the wall. Looking up at him, you hesitantly nodded your head, your breathing quick and face flushed. “Yes sir” you whispered breathlessly, the tension palpable.

He didn’t even know you.. but he felt protective of you. He felt like you were his. Letting go of your shirt, his eyes softened as he looked down at you and saw how your face was flushed. “Forgive me.” He murmurs faintly, his eyes locked on yours.

Gazing up at him, you couldn’t help but gently reach up to straighten his tie, eyes shifting to the collar of his shirt. His gaze follows your hands, silently watching as you fix his shirt. “You’re okay.” You murmured softly. His heart skipped a beat at your words. You could’ve said ‘it’s okay’.. but you said ‘you’re okay’. Words he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Before you can say anything else he leans forward, hands on either side of you against the wall as his lips meet yours. A small gasp leaves you as he kisses you, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. It only lasted for a few moments before he pulled away begrudgingly. “Come back tomorrow.” He whispered against your ear before he took a step back and left through the threshold, leaving you standing against the wall, his cigar and your muffin left forgotten on the ground.

That was weeks ago. Now he saw you almost daily, insisting that you kept coming back. You could’ve easily denied him- returned home and never came back. But you did. You always came back. Like a moth to a flame.

You made him feel like a teenager again, revitalizing his youth. Before you he couldn’t recall the last time he had been kissed. His scars and power always drove people away, understandably so. It took a silly little topsider like you to see the man he used to be.

Sneaking into his office after meetings, pulling him into random alleyways.. all just for a little time with him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve something like you. He just hoped you would keep coming back like always.

Every day he would wait at the threshold between Piltover and Zaun. He would walk you through the Undercity, bringing you to where he could keep you all for himself. And every day you would show up with a wide smile, just happy to see him.

He always met you around noon, but one day you decided to slip into the Undercity earlier than usual. You knew he had been working hard recently, and you wanted to surprise him. You’d woken up early just to make him a special batch of treats, hoping to cheer him up from his recent stress.

Walking into the Undercity on your own.. the one thing he’d warned you of. You were a big boy- surely you could handle yourself for one day, right? You just had to put your hood up lay low, not drawing any attention to yourself. At least.. that’s what you thought.

You always met him at noon on the dot. For the first time in weeks you weren’t here at the threshold. Silco’s foot began to tap against the pavement with anxiety rising up inside of him. Had you finally figured out the kind of man he was? Made the smart decision to leave him and the Undercity behind?

After waiting for almost an hour he throws his cigar at the ground before turning and heading back into the Undercity. Taking his usual route to his office, he glares at anyone that dares look at him. Needless to say, he was seething. You had this hold on him- and now you were gone? Just like that? He was tempted to send Sevika to find you. But he knew he would look weak.

As he walks down one alleyway in particular, his eyes trail along the different people crouched on the ground, poor and probably shimmer addicted. He scoffs in disgust when he looks over them, seeing people begging for help.. something he swore he’d never do. Before he can turn the corner he catches a glimpse of a familiar colored bag, pausing in his stride as he looks over. That was when his heart stopped.

There you stood, hand and head resting against the dirty stone as you coughed weakly, blood dripping from your mouth. Your knees looked weak, and he could see bruises on your arms starting to form. Before he could say anything, he hears a faint noise slip past your lips. And then a few clear droplets fall onto the pavement. You were crying.

Within a second though, your sadness turned to anger. Pushing off of the wall and kicking a trashcan over, you let out a choked yell. As the volume faded, it turned into a weak sob, followed by you throwing your bag into the alleyway, which made people’s heads turn.

He’d never seen you angry. He’d never seen you cry either. It had only been a few weeks, but he’d started to believe those emotions didn’t even lie within you. He was stunned into silence, his body frozen as his eyes follow your bag before looking back at where you collapsed on the ground.

“Fucking take it” you muttered hoarsely as you wipe your eye with your wrist. “Take it all.” You snap at the people eyeing your bag. “The one thing I needed for myself- you took. Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you.” you practically seethe. Even in your injured state- he could feel the anger. He understood it too. The pain of being kind in a world that doesn’t return the same sentiment.

After a few more moments he quickly steps forward, kneeling down and pulling you against him. “What did I say?” He whispers against your ear, but there’s no chastising tone in his voice. Simply guilt that he wasn’t there for you.

You sniffle weakly when you realize it’s him, letting him pull you close. Resting your head on his chest, a soft sigh leaves you. “M’sorry” you whisper weakly. “Just.. wanted to surprise you. But I messed up.”

He sighs softly as he looks over the state of you. You have a black eye and bruises on your arms.. a cut here and there. He hoists you into his arms and stands up, but as he steps away only then does he see the puddle of blood on the ground. His eyes widen and he quickly looks over you, trying to see if it was from you or not. He uses his hand to feel along your back, but only when you cry out does he realize his hand feels warm.. and wet.

Making his way through the streets as fast as he could, he made it back to the last drop, storming in where all of his usual patrons sat. When the doors slam, everyone quickly turns to see Silco standing there with you in his arms and pure rage on his face.

“If I don’t have their heads within twenty four hours” he practically growls as he looks around the room. “I’ll pull every limb from every body in this room. Go.”

Your eyesight grows dim as you feel yourself being set on the couch in his office. You look up slightly to see Sevika standing over you, grabbing a roll of bandages. When you look to the right you see straight out of the door that leads from Silco’s office into the alleyway. You’d never seen him angry. Not like this. He had someone by their collar on their knees, punching them in the face repeatedly before tossing them aside with a yell.

When Sevika turns her back you stand up on shaky legs, walking towards the door the best you can. Managing to reach the doorway, you watch as Silco kicks a trashcan, letting out a yell of frustration. You didn’t know how much time had passed.. but you felt more lightheaded by the second. “Sil?” You say weakly, wishing he would be able to relax. His head snaps around, and when he sees you standing he quickly rushes forward and holds you up.

“Sevika- I told you to watch him!” He snaps as he brings you back over to the couch. Hearing Sevika’s sigh of frustration, you feel tears start to well in your eyes- especially as the shock starts to fade, leaving you with more pain than you’d ever experienced.

When Silco sets you down on the couch and starts to step away, you quickly reach out and grab his arm with a weak yelp of pain. “D-don’t leave me” you choke out as tears start to spill down your cheeks.

He quickly turns when he feels himself pulled back, and when he sees the tears spilling from your eyes his anger starts to mold into concern. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you into his arms. He positions you so Sevika can see your back where you had a small stab wound- probably from some dirt ridden pocket knife. He seethes at the thought of some low life leaving you in that alley. Wrapping his arms around you, one arm hooked under your own, he holds you as close as he can with your face tucked against his chest and the back of the couch.

“You’re okay” he murmurs softly against your ear, his breathing starting to slow from his previous anger. “Shh, shh..” he says faintly as you cry in his arms. “I’ll never leave.” Hearing a scoff from Sevika, he shoots her a glare. He knew he looked weak- he couldn’t stand it. But the way he felt for you outweighed how others viewed him. Adjusting you slightly so Sevika can treat the wound in your back, she gestures for your shirt to be taken off. He hesitates for only a moment before helping pull your shirt off, tossing the blood stained cloth aside.

Now- you and Silco had been fooling around. But it had never gotten quite this far; shirtless, I mean. Sure, you’d made out every now and then, but he was a busy man.. curling up into him as you tried to hide your embarrassment, you tense as Sevika starts to treat the stab wound. Shaking in Silco’s arms from the pain, you can’t help but cry more. It was embarrassing.. these were two of the most powerful people in the Undercity. And here you sat, crying in front of them like a baby.

Silco could practically read your thoughts when he saw how you curled into yourself. Resting his head against your own, his breath fans out over your ear. “You.. are so strong.” He whispers faintly so only you can hear. When he senses your confusion from his words, he pulls you a little closer. “Any other spoiled Piltover brat would’ve laid down and taken it.” He murmurs softly. “But I can tell you fought. My strong little thing.” He whispers against your skin.

Sighing softly, you relax in his arms slightly. “I made you cupcakes.” You whisper faintly after a few quiet moments.

Silco’s eyebrows quirk up and he looks at Sevika for a moment before looking back down at you. “What?” He questions softly as he brushes a piece of hair off of your forehead.

Sniffing slightly as Sevika tapes down the bandage, you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you.” You whisper quietly, as if embarrassed. “Since you told me you guys don’t.. do birthdays much down here- and you’ve been working so hard.. I guess they thought my bag had money in it. When they realized it was just food they..” you trail off faintly, curling into his chest more. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Silco practically feels his heart break as he listens to your words, looking down at you in disbelief for a few moments. When your wound is patched up well enough he motions for Sevika to leave, who does accordingly. Gently using his finger to lift your chin, he looks down into your tear filled eyes. “I will burn this whole city to the ground if I have to.” He says coldly, and you can tell he meant it. “You will never feel unsafe again. Never. Do you understand me?”

Gazing up at him for a few seconds, you gently nod before tucking your head under his chin. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes before your voice reached his ears. “Maybe I should’ve listened to my parents.” You whispered faintly, your shaking tone indicating how hard it was for you to admit that.

He tensed at your words, his arms tightening around you. He felt how blood rushed through his ears at the thought- the thought of you two never meeting. “No one” he says lowly. “Will take you away from me.” He growled.

You should’ve been scared. His anger should’ve frightened you. But.. you never felt more wanted. Maybe it was problematic- or unhealthy. But you could tell he needed you. Just like you needed him. You had been overlooked your whole life. Or if you were noticed, it was for an achievement. Not for you.

When he realizes what he said, and how it may have come off.. the tension fades from his body. He hugs you closer, his lips against your hair. “Forgive me.” He whispers faintly.

“Do you love me?”

His heart stopped when your words registered, and he swore the air stood still. Sitting up to get a clear look at you, he watches how you tilt your head up towards him, your soft eyes locking on his own. “Love..” he murmurs softly, looking off to the side. “Is a tricky thing.”

Gently leaning up, your lips brush against the underside of his jaw. “I think I might love you.” You murmur softly against his skin. His heart rate quickens at your words, and you can tell how he doesn’t know how to handle it. You’d only know each other for weeks- a few months at the most. Surely stealing a few kisses here and there wasn’t enough to establish love?

“You don’t understand what love is.” He sighs quietly, resting his arm along the back of the couch and resting his mouth in his hand as he avoids your gaze.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his words, and you try your best to sit up to look at him face to face. “Who are you to tell me how I feel?”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at you. “Whatever you feel for me.. it’s not love. Infatuation, perhaps. You’re too naive.” He mutters as he rubs his forehead. It hurt him to say those words, although he’d never admit it. He did love you. That much he was sure of. But is it fair? For a man like him to love again? Let alone a little thing like you.

“You’re so full of shit.” You snap as you manage to scoot further away from him on the couch, ignoring the burning pain in your back.

He quickly looks over at you, annoyance on his face. “Excuse me?”

When you see his anger bubbling slightly, you falter for a moment. “Y-Yeah.” You stutter. “You’re- you’re not nice to anyone else” you say quickly as you try to think. “Not like you are to me. And I’ve never seen you be soft with someone. And here you are holding me-.”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, turning his back to you as he walks over to his desk and leaning over it as he looks out of the window. “It’s pathetic. Truly.” He mutters. “How a spoiled little brat from topside finds one man to hug on him, and all of a sudden it’s love” he spits as he turns to look at you. He felt his heart ripping as he spoke. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Poor little you, all touch starved and unloved.” He seethes as he pushes off of his desk, walking over to you. “You are nothing.” He says dangerously as he steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and yanking you upward, making you yelp slightly. “Nothing to me. Nothing to the world. Nothing at all.”

When he lets go of your face you quickly grab it yourself, trying to soothe the ache in your jaw. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.. his fingerprints left indented on your skin. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he spoke, and as soon as he turned away from you, you managed to stand up and grab your shirt, walking towards the door. He watched you leave, wanted desperately to reach out and apologize. But years of hatred had festered in his heart.. stopping him completely.

It was a wonder you even made it home. At least, that’s what you thought. Silco had Sevika tail you to make sure you didn’t collapse in an alleyway. But you didn’t need to know that.

Your parents were in a state when you entered the house, the both of them having dinner when they saw you standing there, battered and bloody. They immediately shacked you up in your room, calling the closest doctor to examine you.

That was four days ago. You’ve hardly left your room, deciding to stay curled up in bed, thinking about everything you did wrong. Silco had to be wrong. If you didn’t love him, why the hell did it hurt this bad to not have him around?

Meanwhile, Silco was in the same boat. He still went to the threshold every day, silently hoping you would return, coming in with violent optimism and putting him in his place, making him love you. But every day.. he stood alone. It was starting to eat him up inside. He couldn’t believe he’d done that to you. Said that to you. Touched you like that after promising you’d never be hurt again. He’d gone as far as putting out his cigars on himself. Just as a reminder of what you must’ve felt- having your heart ripped to pieces by a man who was supposed to keep you safe.

Needless to say, neither of you were taking this well. Right after you’d left that day, someone had brought him the sewer rats that had beat you. He spent the next two hours doing whatever he could to make them hurt.. taking out his own frustrations as well.

Coming up on day five of no interaction, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Putting on a cloak, he made his way into Piltover unnoticed. He knew where you lived thanks to Sevika, but when he saw the mansion your parents owned he knew he couldn’t just knock. He managed to case the house to the best of his ability, but he got lucky. He watched as you stepped out onto your small balcony connected to your room, and he knew where to find you.

Now, don’t ask about how he managed to climb up onto your balcony. Once he slid over the railing, he looked through the glass doors and found you lying in your bed, curled up into a ball under the blankets. He sighed softly when he saw how your head was hidden under the covers. He knew he must have torn your heart out. He could barely stand the thought. Managing to slip into your room silently, he rested against the wall near the balcony in case he needed to take his leave suddenly- like if your parents walked in. He pulled off his cloak and set it on your vanity before sitting in an empty chair.

What could he say to you? He knew his apologies would probably be worthless. He watched the way your body rose and fell in tandem with your soft breathing. He had never felt so alive as when watching you simply exist. Seeing you breathe, seeing you laugh.. it all reminded him of life itself. How to some.. there was good in the world.

After a few moments pass with him sitting and thinking of what to do, he suddenly hears a weak gasp. Looking up immediately, he sees you sitting up on your side with your back to him. He sees the way your body starts to rattle with sharp sobs that no doubt send shooting pain throughout your wound. You were having nightmares. And it was probably all his fault.

After a moment you turn with a wince to rest your back against the headboard, but you freeze when your eyes land on him sitting near your balcony. He saw the way your whole body tensed, and how you quickly tried to wipe your tears away so he wouldn’t see. With a heavy sigh, he gently stood and walked over to your large bed, sitting on the end of it with his back to you. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, the two of you stay quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being his tired breaths and your sniffles.

“Love is too complex of an emotion for my body to handle anymore.” His voice says quietly, but you heard him clear as day in the wide open room. “Often.. I wake up and wonder what it’s all for. Money, power.. humanity. You.. have ruined me.” He whispers faintly, his voice gravelly. “You are everything I am not. Everything I can never be again. Please.. forgive me. Forgive a damaged fool who burns up in the presence of your light.” He murmurs through tired breaths. “You deserve nothing as scarred as me. I wish I could say my flaws are only skin deep. But I’m afraid my heart is as marred as my face.”

After he speaks, his voice raw with honesty, he’s left in silence. After a few long moments, he tenses as he feels your arms slide around his waist, pulling him close as your head rests on his back. “I’m just a stupid kid- like you said” you choke out, voice raw from how much you had been crying. “And you’re so.. so much more.” You sob softly, arms tightening around him as you bury your face against his shirt. “You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re broken.” You add through tears, giving him the hug you always wished someone would give you.

Shaky breaths slip past his lips as he tries to comprehend your words. God, how he missed feeling human. Once he manages to breathe again, he gently turns onto the bed, grabbing you from behind him and pulling you to rest over his lap. Your legs hang over his thigh, still on the bed as he presses his forehead against your own, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your hips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He chokes out softly, his eyes closing as his hands rub over your clothed skin.

Sighing softly when he pulls you into his lap, you can’t help but snuggle into him with a weak yawn. Your face was red and tear stained.. you looked like you’d barely slept. “My parents will kill you if they find you here.” You chuckle weakly against his chest. “You’re not exactly the kind of guy they want me to bring home.”

With a weak smile crossing his face, he presses his lips against your forehead gently. “I would trust their judgement.” He murmurs as he gently rocks you back and forth ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily” he whispers against your hair. “You deserve better than that.”

Sighing softly, you lean up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.. well. Believe it or not, I still feel safest with you.” You murmur tiredly. With a faint sigh he gently picks you up, walking around the length of your bed and setting you down, your head resting against your pillows. Yawning gently, you snuggle into your blankets and the pile of stuffed animals next to you. “go lock the door” you order sleepily.

With a faint chuckle he follows your command, locking your bedroom door before he walks back over to where you lay in your bed. Bending down to slip off his shoes, he moves to lay underneath the covers with you, pulling you into his arms with a contented sigh. “Is this alright?” He murmurs softly.

Cuddling into his hold, you nod as your eyes start to close. “if you hear my parents just wake me up and hide under the bed.” You say faintly, melting into his arms as he keeps you warm.

It’s always the same—a heady mix of smoke, leather, and faint, bitter cologne clinging to the sheets. There’s something about the scent that grounds you, something unmistakably him. You breathe it in before even opening your eyes, curling instinctively into the warmth at your side.

Silco’s room is attached directly to his office, but it feels like a different world entirely. Where his office is all sharp edges and intimidating power, this space is muted, private—a sanctuary from the weight of the Undercity. The walls are dark, the faintest morning light filtering through thick, deep maroon drapes. A heavy oil painting hangs over the headboard—one you’ve seen him stare at longer than most men stare at their lovers. The room is quiet save for the soft hum of the ventilation system and the distant plink of dripping water from a pipe outside the window.

You’re curled into heavy, expensive sheets—not new, not pristine, but well-worn and rich with expense. The bed is large, though you both always end up tangled together in the center, no matter where you start. One of Silco’s arms is draped across your waist, the other curled beneath the pillow. His breathing is deep, steady, slow.

You shift slightly, blinking blearily as you turn to face him.

God, he’s beautiful like this.

The tension he carries like armor during the day is gone, smoothed away in sleep. His features are softer. That ruined eye of his, usually sharp and unreadable, is covered with his nighttime eyepatch, the scarred side of his face pressed into the pillow. You take in the rise and fall of his chest beneath the dark linen sheets, the tousled mess of his hair, the way his lips part slightly when he exhales. His night shirt is buttoned up just enough to leave his chest visible, dark silk matching his pale complexion wonderfully.

No matter how many times you admire his facial dramatics, or love the stern edges of his features while speaking, you’ll never quite enjoy him like you do when he sleeps.

You reach out, brushing a fingertip along the sharp edge of his jaw. He doesn’t stir.

You curl further into his side, tucking your hands close to your chest and decide to watch him a little longer, letting yourself admire him without consequence. There’s no mask here, no posture, and especially no put-together front. Just the man you love. And for now, you’re not sharing him with the demanding city.

Then, with a slow groan, Silco shifts.

“Mmmh… what time is it?” His voice is gravel, sleep-heavy, muffled against the pillow.

You smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Early. Don’t worry.”

He lets out a low, disgruntled sound, shifting forward to burrow his face into the crook of your neck, his arm pulling you closer.

He lets out a spell of air, mumbling into your shoulder, “I have to worry. There’s lots to do today—shipment schedules, enforcer patrols… Jinx’s probably already breaking something.”

“Actually,” you murmur, voice soft, teasing, “I assigned Sevika and the staff all your work today. She’s handling everything. You’re officially banned from your desk.”

That gets a twitch from him, his head lifting to scan your expression.

“You what?”

“I said,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “you’re not allowed to lift a finger today. Orders. From me.”

He goes quiet.

Then, quietly, with a sigh that carries years of exhaustion, “You’re going to get me killed, darling.”

You chuckle, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Only if you don’t relax.”

He makes a low, pleased sound, somewhere between a hum and a grumble, and nuzzles further into you like he’s trying to disappear into your skin.

“…Sevika’s going to hate this,” he murmurs.

You grin. “She already does. But she’ll live.”

He laughs then, soft and real, and you swear you feel his whole body loosen. The work is still waiting, the city still spins in chaos, but for now, in this warm, dark room that smells like smoke and sleep and him, there is peace. The city is quiet—or as quiet as Zaun ever gets—and for a precious handful of seconds, the world is perfect.

Until his bedroom door handle begins rattling off the hinges.

Silco exhales sharply through his nose.

You blink.

The handle jerks again, followed by an unmistakable voice on the other side of the door—high-pitched, breathless, and as dramatic as a thunderclap.

“Daaaad!”

Silco doesn’t move.

You stifle a laugh against his temple.

The door bangs open with no further ceremony, slamming against the wall. In tumbles a 14-year-old blur of blue pigtails and paint splattered clothes, gangly limbs tripping over themselves in excitement.

“FATHER’S DAY!” Jinx shrieks, launching herself onto the bed like a missile. “It’s father’s daaaaaay and I’ve been waiting so long and Sevika said I should wait ‘til noon but it’s almost 10 and you’re still in bed, what gives?!”

She lands half-on your legs, half-on Silco’s spine.

He groans. The sound is quiet, pained, but also, somehow, deeply endearing.

“Jinx,” he says without lifting his head, still tucked against your shoulder. His voice is gravel and silk, and he says her name like it’s laced in gold. “You’re going to dislocate something.”

She pops up like a meerkat, beaming. “Then get up! Come on! I have a whole thing planned. It might involve pancakes. No promises.”

You uncurl from Silco’s side to see her bouncing on her knees, fists curled in excitement, her eyes darting between the two of you with the delight of someone who absolutely knows she’s interrupted something sacred and does not care.

“Good morning, Jinxy,” you smile.

Silco finally lifts his head, fixing her with a single, unimpressed eye.

“I plan to spend today sleeping,” he says, utterly deadpan.

Jinx gasps, scandalized. “Sleeping?! That’s your gift? That’s it? I’m your greatest gift and you want to sleep instead of spending time with me?!”

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing.

Silco sighs through his nose, and you feel his breath tickle the side of your neck.

“I am very old,” he says, with the weariness of a man under siege. “And very tired.”

“You’re forty-two. That’s not even that old!”

“I’m aging rapidly,” he hums with humor.

You glance over just in time to see her roll her eyes with her entire soul. “Ugh, fine,” she huffs, dramatically flopping backward across both your legs like a fainting Victorian lady. “But only because you look like a corpse.”

“Thank you, little bug,” Silco murmurs, already sinking back into the pillow.

“But!” Jinx says, springing back up. “I’m going to make you breakfast. Don’t die of old age before I finish.”

She points two fingers at her eyes, then at Silco.

“I mean it.”

Then she’s off, limbs flailing, skipping toward the open door, then slamming it shut behind her. You hear her boots clomp away through the office and down the hall, accompanied by a muffled, “Sevika I need a pan!”

Silco exhales. His arm curls back around your waist, and he lets his head fall to your shoulder.

“…She’s going to burn the house down,” he murmurs.

You smile, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“At least she’s doing it for love.”

“Mmhm…”

The silence creeps back in after Jinx’s dramatic exit, though it’s less peaceful now—more like the calm after a storm, the kind where everything feels a little more ruffled.

Silco doesn’t move for a while. He keeps his head resting against your shoulder, breathing slow and steady, but you can feel that he’s awake now, truly awake. His fingertips trace faint, idle lines against your hip beneath the sheets, and after a long moment, you shift just enough to meet his uncovered eye.

“Am I expected to also get you a gift on this wondrous holiday?”

“Mmm,” he hums, eye still half-lidded, “depends.”

You smile, brushing your knuckles along the side of his face. “Depends on what?”

Silco doesn’t answer right away, so you take the opportunity to keep talking—a habit you’ve formed over the countless quiet nights in his office while he’s busy doing paperwork.

“You can have whatever you want. I could give you that new bourbon you like. The aged stuff, from Piltover. I’ve got it stashed. Or,” you murmur, curling a little closer, “a fresh cigar. That fancy one you pretended not to want at the Chem-Baron party last month.”

He lifts an eyebrow.

You lean in. “Or I could just sit on your lap in the office chair and wear nothing but your tie all day. Your call.”

That earns a low, lazy chuckle from him—a sound that vibrates in his chest and tickles across your skin. “Tempting.”

“Or I could get you a real break,” you continue, brushing your lips against his jaw. “No work, no fires to put out, no Sevika yelling in your ear. Just us. Just the bed. Just—”

Silco cuts you off with a soft inhale, his hand tightening slightly at your waist.

Then, slowly, he pulls back.

“…What?” you ask, confused as he rises from the bed in one graceful, fluid motion.

He doesn’t answer.

You sit up on one elbow, watching him.

He doesn’t look like he’s annoyed—no tightness around the mouth, no pinched brow. But he’s got that deliberate look in his eye, the one that says he’s already made a decision and is letting you catch up.

He slips his finger under the band of his eyepatch, tossing it onto the nightstand next to his half-full ashtray and random assortment of literature tomes.

“Silco?” you ask again, voice soft but curious. “Where are you going?”

He says nothing.

Instead, he saunters to the bedroom door, barefoot and shirt slightly askew, the muscles of his back moving under the thin silk like shifting shadows.

And then—click.

He flips the sliding lock.

You blink.

Your heart skips.

He turns, both eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve decided,” he says, voice low and calm, “that I do know what I want.”

His fingers drift to the first button of his sleep shirt, undoing it with slow, precise ease. “It’s not bourbon. Or cigars. Or even a morning without chaos.”

Another button.

The fabric falls open slightly, revealing the deep scar that lines his ribs — the one you’ve kissed a hundred times and will kiss again.

He begins walking back toward the bed, each step deliberate, the faintest curve tugging at one corner of his thin mouth.

“What I want,” he murmurs, climbing up onto the mattress like a predator taking his time, “is something only you can give me.”

You swallow, breath caught halfway between anticipation and awe.

Silco leans forward, sliding one hand up the side of your bare thigh to push up the fabric of your nightgown to your hip, his body warm and steady and close.

“I want you,” he finishes, voice barely above a whisper.

“Completely. And uninterrupted.”

You barely have time to react before his lips are on yours.

Silco kisses like a man who doesn’t waste time, who knows exactly where and how he wants to touch you—and right now, he wants everything. His mouth is firm, commanding, but not rushed. He tastes faintly of sleep and smoke, and when his hand slides behind your neck to pull you deeper into the kiss, the sound you make is muffled against his lips.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him tighter.

The bedsheets shift beneath you as he eases you down, pressing your back into the mattress without ever breaking the kiss. His shirt, half-unbuttoned, brushes your bare thighs as he moves over you, and you feel the heat of his body through every thin layer between you.

He draws back just far enough to look at you, eyes heavy and dark with want. His thumb grazes your cheek.

“You spoil me,” he murmurs.

You grin, breathless. “It’s Father’s Day.”

“So it is.”

His hand trails down, slow and reverent, over your throat, your chest, your stomach—like he’s memorizing you all over again. When his fingers push up further beneath the hem of your nightgown, they’re warm and unhurried, but full of promise. He lifts it slowly over your head, lips following the exposed skin with soft, dragging kisses up your navel to the valley of your breasts.

“You should take days off more often,” you whisper, threading your fingers into his coarse hair, breathless.

He hums against your skin, lips brushing just beneath your ribs.

“I fear Zaun will crumble with just today alone,” he murmurs, the words pressed low into your stomach, sending shivers racing down your spine.

When his shirt finally slips off his shoulders, you sit up just enough to help him, palms skimming over the scarred, sinewed planes of his torso. You kiss the hollow of his throat, tasting salt and skin and his faint cologne, and feel him exhale through his nose.

But Silco has a personal mission.

You are his gift, and he’s going to unwrap you as slowly as he damn well pleases.

The next second, he’s hovering over you again, braced on one arm, the other sliding between your thighs with agonizing slowness. His mouth finds your ear.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he breathes, running his long fingers over the fabric of your panties, pressing firmly down onto the sensitive nub now pulsing to life. “Don’t forget, you said I could have whatever I pleased.”

You don’t have room to argue when he’s pressing a firm kiss to your lips again, hungry groans and gasps of breath shared between you as the pad of his thumb begins to rub slow, rhythmic circles onto your clothed clit.

Those kisses travel from your lips, to the curve of your jaw, then down the column of your throat, leaving little blooming marks wherever he goes. Your nails dig into the bare expanse of his shoulders, hips grinding up into his palm, whining “Oh, God, Silco.”

He hums against your skin, every kiss down your chest and across your abdomen lighting little balls of fire through your veins. By the time his lips have reached your panty-line, his fingers are curling around the now-soaked fabric and slipping them down your thighs then off your bare legs.

You have all the grace of a trembling leaf when he slots himself between your legs, pushing your knees apart, and slowly—obnoxiously slowly—dips his face down towards the apex of your thighs. He 

“Silco-”

“Mhm?” he breathes hotly over your throbbing cunt, eyes half-lidded and flitting between it and your flushed face as he teases himself just as much as you.

“Be gentle.” 

The hunger that flashes in his dual-colored eyes is horrifying, a quiet chuckle as he digs his fingers into the meat of your legs, holding them strictly apart.

“No promises.”

You flinch when the hard bridge of his nose touches your throbbing clit as his face meets your cunt, tongue flattening against your swollen folds, but not yet dipping inside. You gasp at the sensation, hands digging into the sheets either side of your waist, the arch of your back leaving the mattress.

Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his sleep pants. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, following the trace of each lap of his tongue.

Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt fill the morning air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a exhausting rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. 

You can’t help yourself—for how much pampering Silco does to his hair, you’ll always be there to mess it up as you tangle your fingers through the strands. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right.

He releases one of your thighs, wrapping his arm around your hip to thumb circles onto your clit. Silco thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. 

“You always taste so delicious, darling.” His voice sends vibrations to your cunt that have you feeling your heartbeat fluttering in two places.

“Oh, Janna-” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, thumb swiping lewdly across the nub, walls clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so fully as his jaw shifts with every swallow of your arousal.

He relishes in how messy you are, slick now starting to gather around the corners of his mouth. His hums and groans against your cunt aren’t helping your case, hips jerking and stuttering with each bow of your back off his king-sized bed.

Your juices smearing all over his mouth and nose, he feels you clenching down on him as he ramps up the hungry movements of his mouth. He lets his tongue soak deeper, his lips suck harder, and his thumb press down just a little firmer.

After this long of being with the Eye of Zaun, a man who knows his city like the back of his hand, why would his knowledge of your sweet spots be any different?

“Just like that. Shit, I’m gonna-” your mewls echo across the room, breathless whines heavy as you dig your fingers into his scalp and pull.

Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Silco’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse on your throbbing cunt, groaning as he laps up your juices, your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth. His good eye flutters closed, the dual-colored irises rolling in his head as he laps up every drop from your orgasm, fingers digging into your thigh while his thumb presses firm against your twitching clit.

When Silco pulls away, both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the creaking and settling of pipes in The Last Drop fill the air once more. Silco looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more. His jaw, nose, and chin are glistening with your arousal, a hand snaking out from under your leg to wipe his mouth clean before he’s crawling back up towards you again.

“That was quite fast, hm?” he smirks, reaching down to untie the string of his sleep pants, the other hand placed next to your head as you pant and writhe beneath him.

“Quiet.”

You’re hungry—terribly so—so your hands wrap around his shoulders again and drag his lips down to yours, swallowing his kiss like it’s the last time you’ll ever get to. Your fingers run up into the short hairs on the back of his head, whining like a puppy who didn’t get nearly as much food as she wanted.

With one hand, Silco pushes down the hem of his sleep pants just enough to release himself, heavy cock flinging from the fabric and slapping against your stomach.

For all the thin and skinniness of Silco, his cock can’t be described with those words. He’s long, long enough to reach your belly button when he’s on top of you like this. No matter how many times you sleep with him, you’ll never get used to it, or how smug he is about it, either.

You shift on instinct, angling your hips to try and feel the length of him against you, but Silco has been enough of a tease already this morning.

“Mm, I wonder if breakfast is ready downstairs…” Silco lets off of your mouth, cheeks newly deep and flushed, but the smug expression always remains. He strokes himself in his fist, purposefully pointed away from where you’d like it to be.

You nearly slap him.

“I swear to Janna, Silco—oh.”

The breath is knocked from your lungs when your slick pools on his flushed tip, and pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, he drags his tip teasingly along your sopping folds. 

“Hngh- please, Silco. I want-” you pant into his ear, wrapping your legs around the middle of his back and pushing, praying he would just slip inside. Your needy whimpers are cut off as his hips reactively jerk in-between your swollen folds, the slick glistening on the underside of his length.

Silco could play a good tease, but he wanted this almost double as badly as you did—and his body was giving him away.

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl,” he hums, leaning down to murmur richly in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. If you were in any better condition, you would’ve stayed quiet and teased him just as bad—but right now, your cunt was aching so bad you thought you might cry.

“Want you to fuck me right now, Silco. Right now.”

“Mhm, there we go.”

It’s not another breath of a second before you feel the press of his tip to your entrance, hips shifting forward and hands planted either side of your head as he nudges himself in. 

Silco breathes your name, head dropping between his shoulders as he bullies his cock into your tight cunt. You cling to him like a madwoman, each jerk of his hips to sink himself inside further making you nails dig just as hard into his shoulders.

By the time he’s knocked his hips flush with yours, you’re both panting and moaning “Oh, Janna” like she could save you.

Silco curls in on you, arms sliding under your ribs and splaying under your shoulder blades, holding you close to his chest as he leaves wet, heated kisses across your neck and down to your chest. “I had a dream about you last night,” he whispers through pecks.

You moan out, long and loud, when his hips finally begin to pull away from yours, tugging his length from the tight grip of your cunt. “R-Really? Must’ve been a nightmare.” You huff through gritted teeth, tugging a tuft of his hair through your fingers.

Silco’s hips set a slow but deep cadence, getting the entirety of his length inside your cunt before slowly pulling back out—just to push back in again. It was terrible. “No. It was quite pleasant.”

He pulls his hips back unhurriedly, immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace, his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.

You’re about to ask why when he snaps his hips forward one good time, knocking the word from your mouth and replacing it with a groan. He speaks for you, “Dreamt you gave me a horribly messy blow under the table at a baron-meeting. Finn was rightfully fuming. Jealousy, I think.”

You get enough grounding to huff, “Well… the week is still young. Ther—hah—there’s one scheduled on Thursday, right?”

That earns you a sharp nip on the underside of your jaw, and a throaty chuckle that sends shivers all the way down to where the two of you were connected. “Don't tempt me. I’ll have it arranged before you can refuse.”

Silco quickens his languid pace, quickly adjusting the deep thrusts to a fast, mouthwatering tandem that has sharp moans leaving your lifts with every knock against your sweet spot.

He latches onto your throat, sucking dark, blooming marks into your skin that will be sure to look horrid later, but the Eye of Zaun has always had a thing for marking territory. “Sil- Oh, yeah-”

You feel wet warmth surround your right nipple, Silco’s mouth latching onto the hardened nub while the other is being twisted and pinched between his fingers. You arch into him, jerking your hips to meet each quick thrust, staring up at the ceiling with lips parted. He’s so mean, angling his cock so it knocks right against your g-spot with wet, crude slaps of skin to accompany.

Silco ghosts your name against your burning skin, popping off of your nipple with a gasp before latching onto the opposite one. Your nails run across his shoulders down to the tight muscle of his biceps, trying to tug him so impossibly closer. “Dar… Darling,” he groans, dragging his lips off of your breast and up to the underside of your jaw. “Come here.”

You don’t have a moment to question before Silco is wrapping his arms tight around your middle and dragging you upwards, holding onto you as he sits up onto his knees.

You nearly cry, the gravity of yourself and him sinking you even further down onto his cock, his tip absolutely crashing into your cervix. You groan, wrapping your arms tight when his large hands cup under your ass and hoist you up off of his length, before slamming you back down.

“Fuck!” You cry, biting deep into your bottom lip when it’s Silco’s turn to dig his nails into your skin, spreading your cheeks and bouncing you up and down his length. Your legs wrap tight around his waist, clinging to him terribly so.

The new angle has you both seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “C’mon, sweet girl, you can handle it,” he manages to hum, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Let me hear you.”

“So deep, Sil- Too deep-” you cry, scratching the back of his neck, kissing sloppily across his temple as he uses your body like a toy at his disposal. “You’re too big for your own go-ewhd-”

“So you’ve said, many times,” he hums, chuckling against your chest as he kisses your shoulder, nipping onto the skin. “Just imagine how good you feel this deep, though, darling.”

And you don’t know if it’s the overwhelming pleasure or the lighthearted jab that pushes you over the edge more, but you unhook your legs from Silco’s waist and push—slamming Silco’s back onto the ruffled sheets below and being met with a bewildered look on his face.

“You know, Silco,” you huff, spreading your knees wide to either side of his hips before you’re sinking back down into his length with a shaky breath. “I love that beautiful tongue of yours, love how smart you always sound.”

He reassesses himself, shifting his knees up to plant his feet on the mattress behind you, sliding his hands up the top of your thighs as he watches your cunt spread so deliciously down the thickness of his cock.

“But right now, I need you to shut up before I cum.”

He grins, sly and filled with deep-rooted mischief.

“Oh, really?”

Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Silco smiles with satisfaction when the thickness of his cock knocks against your sweet spots, your thighs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will. 

“I need you to cum, darling. Need you perfectly ruined—ah—for me.”

You were sure you both would be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow. Hopefully his silken tie would be high enough to cover the devastating nail marks running across his skin.

“Come on. Come on. That’s it, there you go.”

But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Silco’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So deep, even still.

You slam your hips up and down atop his, riding the Eye of Zaun like he’s some object, running your hands across his jaw, his throat, down to his chest and planting your weight on his ribs. 

“K-keep going, sweetheart. Don’t stop, please.” Silco’s grand bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the wet smacks of his skin hitting yours. 

As Silco’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to that glorious edge. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Silco, I’m- Hah-” 

He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mhm, you’ve got it, darling. I’ve got you.”

You can’t take it, not for a minute longer. You slam your hips down, burying Silco inside of your convulsing heat as far in as he could go, and grinding through your orgasm. Your moans are loud, shrill cries that have Silco wrapping his arms around your middle and holding you close as he fucks out the last of his restraint.

“Ah! Shit-” Silco grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, your whimpers as you gush around him sounding like music to his ears. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral, and it made you feel so full. 

A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper, claiming you as his. 

You do the same in your own way, biting down on Silco’s exposed neck, hard. 

Cum drips down your legs, staining his expensive bedding. 

As your highs finally dwindle from crashes to ripples, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Silco from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the heavy flush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you are so tired and euphoric.

It’s all you can do to lift your body enough for Silco to slip out of you, globs of cum dripping onto his abdomen as you fall at his side, one leg still limp across his waist.

Warm. Shallow. Tangled together in the center of the bed, limbs heavy, skin flushed, bodies still humming from everything he just gave—and took—from you.

One arm curls around your waist, the other brushes back damp strands of hair from your temple. He looks at you like you’re the only real thing in the room. Maybe in the world.

“You are…” he murmurs, voice still thick, still low with affection, “utterly devastating.”

You laugh—soft and tired, stretching slightly into the askew sheets—only for his lips to press to your collarbone, then your shoulder, then the slope of your throat. He doesn’t rush, he never does. His kisses are reverent, lingering like he wants to memorize your taste all over again. He’s just been kissing you for the last hour, but apparently that wasn’t enough.

“You ruin me,” he whispers between kisses. “And I’d thank you for it every morning.”

Your chest tightens at the way he says it—no bravado, no sharpness, just soft truth. His hand slides gently along your side, fingertips tracing the shape of your ribs like he’s still grounding himself in the fact that you’re here. That you’re his, even after all this time.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to the edge of your jaw.

You nod, still catching your breath.

Silco tucks himself back into his sleep pants, then eases himself upright, legs slipping off the side of the bed before reaching out for your hand. You let him guide you, still naked and raw with intimacy, toward the sleek bathroom tucked just off the bedroom. The light in there is warmer—softer gold from the rising sun leaking through a frosted window.

He runs the shower, adjusting the temperature with practiced care, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection: flushed cheeks, bitten lips, and the absolute smattering of bruises beginning to bloom all over your shoulders. He sees them too and smiles, chuckling darkly.

“I don’t want to hear complaint,” he says simply, running a hand over his shoulders and hissing at the sting that comes with the nail-scratches all across his upper-back. He slips out of his sleep pants.

The warmth of the water feels heavenly as he guides you under it, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. He rests his chin on your shoulder while you both stand there in the quiet steam, skin against skin, the scent of his soap and sleep and satisfaction curling in the air.

Neither of you speak much.

You don’t have to, you just wash each other like you have a million times before.

Once you’re dry and dressed—him in something dark and clean, you in one of his oversized button-down shirts and soft linen pants—he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, plants a kiss against your forehead, and the two of you finally emerge from the upstairs den.

And descend directly into absolute chaos.

The Last Drop’s kitchen is a warzone.

Flour covers the countertops in ghostly handprints and boot smudges. Pancake mix drips from the ceiling in long, slow arcs. The stove is littered with at least three pans, two of them still smoking. An empty syrup bottle lies on its side like it died in battle.

Jinx stands dead center, face streaked with powder, hair speckled with wet batter. She’s holding what might once have been a pancake on a spatula, but now resembles a charred disc of concrete.

Sevika is behind her, arms crossed, flour dusting her tank top, and a whisk somehow embedded in the claw of her mechanical arm.

They both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

Jinx grins wide. “Surprise!”

You stare for a beat. Then you laugh—full-bodied and bright, pressing a hand over your mouth as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

Silco exhales.

“…Well,” he mutters, voice bone dry. “She didn’t burn the whole building down.”

You step close, lean up, and press a warm kiss to his cheek.

“Happy Father’s Day to you, indeed.”

He tilts his head toward you, lips twitching.

And for once, for a brief, shining morning—Silco lets the world spin without worrying about anything else except the people here with him.

There’ll always be paperwork, but there won’t always be pancakes and a terrible mess to clean up after.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

๑ back to my masterlists

Silco's expression softened as he listened to her humming. It was a familiar song that echoed the anger and pain felt by many of the citizens, including himself. The anthem of the revolution, a strange choice for a song to hum during the work day.  He knew it well, having heard it many times before. He stood there quietly, listening to the tune with a mix of understanding and resignation

"You're an interesting one, you know that Y/N?", he said under his breath, his gaze still fixed on her form.

Y/N peers at him from her periphery 

“Hmm? Is that so?”

Silco smirks lightly, his gaze still fixated on her.

“You have a habit of using songs to express your thoughts and feelings, don't you? It's quite an unusual, and somewhat impressive, way to cope."

Y/N huffs and mumbles 

“There are worse coping mechanisms”

Silco chuckles at her comment, a smirk forming on his face. He nods, knowing all too well the truth in her words

"That's true, I suppose. I've seen my fair share of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this city. But I must admit, yours is certainly the most... creative I've come across. And oddly fitting, considering your... talent."

Y/N finally raises her head from her paperwork, quirking a brow and eyes narrowing toward the man. 

Silco's smirk grows slightly, a hint of playful banter in his tone 

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about, Y/N. Don't play coy now. Your uncanny ability to stay completely calm and composed, even in the most precarious of situations. I've seen you handle difficult negotiations, tight deadlines, and volatile clients, all with a level head and a smile on your face. It's impressive... and slightly unnerving."

A hum follows. 

“Well, thank you...I think.”

Silco chuckles again, leaning slightly against the desk in front of Y/N.

"It's both a compliment and a note of caution. It's remarkable how you can remain so unfazed by anything. But it also raises the question of what could break that unshakable composure, if anything at all."

Y/N, even the world at large, could see the dangerous curiosity in Silco’s eyes. The Eye of Zaun has always been a man of deadly inquiries, even to those who he trusts most. A way to test loyalty and more so, a way to test vulnerability. She could feel fear creep into her throat as she realized what was happening...an interrogation 

“Thus far boss, haven't found anything yet.”

Silco's gaze remained intently fixed on her, his expression unreadable. He watched her every subtle reaction, the way her eyes might glance away, or how her fingers might fidget slightly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he says, his tone smooth and steady, yet there's an undertone of danger "You've always been good at hiding your weaknesses, haven't you?"

She keeps her expression neutral and her tone casual despite her brain running rampant 

“One has to in this line of work–”

Silco nods, silently applauding her facade of calmness. He leans back from the desk, crossing his arms as he continues his questioning.

"True," he responds, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face, "In this city, showing weakness is a dangerous game. I've seen more than my fair share of people fall thanks to a single moment of misplaced honesty."

Silco's gaze becomes more intense as his voice drops to a lower tone

"But everyone has a breaking point, don't they? A moment where the facade slips, where the careful control is lost. Tell me, Y/N, what's yours? What would it take to break that calm facade you wear."

Y/N pauses, racking her brain for bullshit answers but none come to mind. A flurry of lyrics comes to her brain, the coping mechanism to calm herself but alas she can't voice the fears. Turning to face his intense gaze, her eyes betray nothing that is going on in her head 

“I implore you to figure that out on your own, boss.”

Silco's gaze continues to bore into her skull, his face unwavering. He leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving her as he ponders the response. A hum erupts from his throat, a soft smirk playing at the corners of his scarred lips. He can see the subtle flicker in her eyes, and the slight tightening of her jaw, indicators of the internal battle she’s fighting. He would applaud the facade if it hadn’t been one defended against him. 

 He takes a step closer, his voice low and deliberate

"Now you're just being stubborn," he says, a hint of humor in his tone "But then again, when have you ever been anything but." He pauses, his gaze still intense "You're hiding something. I can feel it in the air. Something you don't want to admit, even to yourself."

She turns back to her paperwork, softly humming 

“Like I said, you can figure it out...on your own.”

Silco lets out a huff, a mix of irritation and frustration at the continued display of nonchalance. Taking a step closer, he towers over her.

"Oh, you really think I won't find out, hm?" he asks, his voice low and almost challenging.

"I've found out everyone's secrets and weaknesses, eventually. What makes you think you're any different?

Y/N felt her heart race at his proximity, a small silent gasp leaving her lips.

“Because...you trust me. You said so yourself.”

Silco pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he processes the bullshit response. He slowly circles the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent office. His movements are slow and precise, like a prowling tiger stalking its prey. He stands behind her, his presence practically enveloping her form; pinning her between his chest and the desk.

"You're correct," he says, his voice a low rumble "I trust you far more than I've ever trusted anyone else. But trust, as you know, is a fickle thing. It can be broken, sometimes irreversibly."

Y/N’s palms start to sweat, heart pounding inside her chest. She can't admit defeat...even to him. 

“Silco, please. Just let this one be.”

Silco leans down slightly, bringing his face close to hers. The air is thick with tension as his voice drops to a soft rumble, his breath warm on her ear.

"Give me one reason, just one, why I should let this go. Why I shouldn't pry and dig until I find what it is you're hiding from me."

His tone is smooth, almost seductive, yet there's a hint of danger underneath. He is determined to uncover this secret, unwilling to back down this time.

“It’s—it’s really not that important….”

Silco's smirk widens as he notices the slight blush on her cheeks, he’s winning. Leaning in closer, his nose almost touching the base of her neck, he lets out a hum, a low and dangerous sound.

"Not important, huh? If it wasn’t important, you wouldn't be so reluctant to reveal it. I know you, Y/N. You're hiding something deep, something that even you may not fully understand."

He moves even closer, his body almost pressed against the small of her back as he whispers "Just tell me, darling. I can keep a secret."

Y/N holds back a whimper at his closeness, the way his breath tickles the sweet spot on her neck 

“Boss, please don't–”

Silco lets out a soft chuckle, his voice low and gravelly. He can feel the tension in her body, the way she’s struggling to hold back her reactions to his closeness. He moves even closer, his body now fully pressed against hers.

"Don't what, Y/N? I haven't done anything."

He leans in further, his nose now tracing along the flesh of her jawline, his breath warm against the skin.

 "All I'm asking for is honesty. Is that so hard for you?"

“Fine, okay! I’ll tell you…just promise you won’t overreact.”

He can practically feel her resistance crumbling, the way her body responds to his touch. He's enjoying every response far more than he should, but he can't help it.

"Finally," he says, his voice a low rumble "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? Go on then, tell me. Let me in, darling."

Y/N pauses, closing her eyes in a silent prayer. 

“I am in love with...you?”

Silco freezes, his eyes widening at the confession. He was expecting anything but this, the words coming out of her mouth, the honesty in her trembling voice, the revelation of love, it was all too unexpected, too dangerous, too...perfect

He steps back slightly, his eyes fixed on her as he processes her words. The room is silent except for the soft sound of the ragged breaths escaping from his mouth He continues to stare, his heart pounding in his chest, the silence between her thick and heavy with unspoken emotion.

Y/N sighs and places her head in her hands, running them through her hair in frustration. 

“See why I didn't want to tell you?”

Silco's expression remains stoic as he continues to stare at her, his mind racing. He can feel a mixture of emotions coursing through him: shock, disbelief, excitement, and...fear. He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before speaSilco

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice thick with emotion "Are you...sure? About what you said?"

Y/N nods slowly and closes her eyes in a plea for a swift end should it come.

“Yes...fuck I–I can't help it, boss. Look if you just wanna fire me, I will never see you again and we don't have to talk about this at all–”

Silco's expression softens at the words, his heart clenching at the thought of her leaving. He reaches out, his hand gently lifting her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his and silence the rambling.

"I'm not going to fire you, you stupid girl," he says, his tone both frustrated and gentle at the same time. He lets out a sigh, his eyes locked in a steely gaze. 

"How long have you felt this way?"

“I have worked for you for 3 years so I would say about...a year of that time.”

Silco's expression darkens slightly at the words, his frustration growing at the realization that she had been hiding this for so long. His fingers tighten on her chin, his hand not letting Y/N look away for even a second.

"A year..." he mutters, his voice low "You've been feeling this way for a year, and you never told me, never even hinted?"

“What was I supposed to do, admit that not only I loved my boss but the King of the Underground himself?”

Silco huffs in disbelief, his grip on her chin tightening further. His eyes are locked on her features, demanding attention, and submission.

"Yes." he says firmly "You should have told me. I can't read your damn mind, Y/N. You just expect me to know your feelings, to know what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

“I didn't want you to know! That's why I didn't tell you–”

Silco's expression hardens as he glares down. His fingers dig deeper into her chin, his touch almost too painful, waxing possessive.

"Why not? Why did you want to hide this from me? Don't you trust me?" he asks, his voice a rough growl "Because if you don't, why the hell have you been worSilco for me for the last three years?"

Y/N whimpers, his nails digging into her chin in a way that will surely leave bruises.

“I trust you I promise, I was just scared…I have seen you do worse things to people in this line of work boss.”

Silco huffs at her words, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He can't deny the truth in them, but he doesn't like being reminded of his brutal nature, especially not in this moment.

"You think I would treat you like those other people, like one of my employees?"

His voice is a low rumble filled with both anger and something else, something he can't quite name. Y/N tries to pull her chin away, the bruises forming already from his grip

“That's what I am though, your Y/N.”

Silco's grip doesn't waver as she tries to pull away. His eyes darken as he feels his control slipping, the anger and frustration boiling up within him. He leans down closer, his face inches from hers. 

"Damn it, don't do this. Don't belittle yourself and don't reduce what you are to me to just an Y/N. You know it's more than that, damn it."

Silco's eyes flicker back and forth from her lips to her eyes, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel the pull between them, the unspoken tension that's been growing over the years. He can see the desire in her eyes, the need for something more than just a business relationship, and it threatens to break him.

"Damn it, Y/N," he mutters, his voice a low, rough whisper. "Don't look at me like that."

“Like what boss?”

Silco's eyes bore into her skull as he tried to hold onto the last shred of control he had. He's been keeping his feelings locked away for so long, and the innocence, the honesty, it's breaking him down, making him weak; and he hates it, and he loves it.

"Like you want me," he growls, his voice hoarse "Like you want to kiss me."

Barely above a whisper, the Y/N voices her finality “But I do want you, always have.”

She places her lips softly on his, allowing him to push her away, denying his affection should he choose it. Silco's eyes widen in surprise as her lips touch his. The last ounce of control he had evaporates like smoke. He hesitates for a moment, the conflict between reason and desire raging within him until finally the latter wins out. With a low growl, he pulls her closer, his hands wrapping around her waist as he kisses back, fiercely and hungrily.

One hand grips her waist, the other clutches her neck to pull her closer. The kiss is messy, full of tongue and teeth. Fierce and hungry, a place where she is not in charge.

Silco's lips leave her, a whine escaping her throat at the loss, but he moves to her jaw, peppering kisses along the skin, his teeth nipping at her jawline. He can feel his self-control slipping further with each passing second. He's wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, he's not holding back. His hands explore her body, tracing over her curves, possessive and demanding.

She moans softly as his teeth nip the sweet spot on her neck, hands tangling themselves in his neatly combed hair; head dizzy with want

“Silco–”

Silco smirks as he feels her hands in his hair, his ego stoked by her need and the sound of the soft moans that break from her soft lips. He continues to kiss and bite at her neck, enjoying the way her body reacts to his touch. He lets out a low growl, his voice a rough rumble against her ear.

"Say it again," He orders, his teeth nipping at her earlobe "Say my name, darling."

"Say my name, louder, I want to hear you moan it."

The Y/N gasped as his teeth continued their assault on her neck, his possessive grip leaving a small trail of bruises on her hip

“Silco please–”

The Silco shivered at the sound of his name. It sounded like honey, a dulcet candy for only him to hear. Only she could call his name like that and he would make sure she did it for the rest of her life. He can feel himself losing control, it’s driving him further into dangerous territory. His lips continue their assault on her neck, sucking and biting, marking her as his, making her beg in a way that's so damn satisfying.

"Please what, darling?" he growls, his hands gripping her hips tighter, grinding her core against him "You have to tell me what you want."

A tug on his hair and a wave of arousal pool and paint a spot on Silco's pants. The tug effectively ends his lip's attack on Y/N’s neck. Her eyes are blown with desire and her hair is disheveled as a thin line of salvia drips from puffy lips. Her neck is marked with the purple and red emblems of his handiwork. 

“Please kiss me again.”

Silco's eyes widen at the sight below him, marked as his possession, hair disheveled, lips slick and wet, it makes his heart race, his body tense and needy. He almost laughs at the question, not believing she would think he could refuse such a request.

"You don't even have to ask," he growls, his voice low and full of desire "I'll kiss you as much as you want, darling." He pulls her closer, his lips crashing into hers fierce and dominant; his tongue seeking and demanding.

Y/N allowed his tongue to explore her mouth but soon slows down the kiss, letting the fit of passion fade and lead the way to a more slow and sensual one. One that expresses that this is more than carnal, it's an unspoken quiet desire that consumes her heart and soul. 

Silco's eyes dilate at the sudden shift in the kiss. He can feel the change in energy, the way the kiss becomes slower, more sensual, more loving. It makes his heart clench in his chest, and for a brief moment, his mind whirls with emotions he's never felt before.

He responds to the change, matching Y/N’s pace, his hand going to caress her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing over the skin. Though, he eventually pulls away, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp. The intensity of the moment, the way the kiss had changed, it had completely thrown him off guard. He gazes into Y/N’s eyes, his expression a mix of a million different things: desire, love, confusion, fear. He exhales, one hand still caressing her cheek, trying to find the words to express what he's feeling, but they all seem to get lodged in his throat. 

Y/N takes the pause to caress his cheek, tilting her head in mild confusion as to why they had stopped. Maybe he had decided he regretted it, maybe she had overwhelmed him maybe–

Silco leans into her touch, his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he relishes the feeling. He had never been touched this way, with such gentleness, such tenderness.

Y/N gives him a broken smile, while his expression is unreadable, she can sense he is struggling with something

“It's okay...you don't have to know how you feel. We can end this right here if you want.”

“No," he says, his voice rough and urgent "No, I...I don't want to end this. I just...I don't understand. These feelings, these emotions, they're all so damn new to me, I don't know how to cope with them."

He let out a frustrated huff, running his hand through his hair. Y/N let out a chuckle, sitting up in her chair and allowing him to kneel on the floor before her. Running her hands through his hair and settling them by cupping his cheek. Gazing into the eyes she has come to adore

“Then how about this. We take this one step at a time yeah?”

"One step at a time," he repeats, his voice a quiet murmur. He nods, opening his eyes to meet yours once more

"I can do that."

“We can do that”

Silco's heart lurches in his chest as Y/N says ‘we’ and he can't help the small smile that plays at the corner of his lips. The fact that she is so immediately willing to walk this path with him, to help him navigate these unfamiliar feelings and emotions, means more to him than she could know. He reaches up and covers her hand with his, holding it against his cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against the skin.

"One step at a time. Together."

The two of you aren't together. Yet. Though Silco is perfectly aware of his feelings towards you, and he trusts you as much as he thinks he is able to trust anyone at this point in his life, he is still somewhat hesitant to make a move. Both because he isn't sure about your own feelings towards him and because he doesn't really... He doesn't really do this. Date –more than a casual fuck–. Have a partner. He doesn't like stepping into the unknown; so he's got no rush.

It's still clear the relationship between you isn't exactly just friendly. There's this energy simmering below the surface; this... carefull expectancy. Rumours, too; as Silco's behaviour around you hasn't been unnoticed either. It can't be; for the second time this month, he's carrying you like a ragdoll up to his bedroom, grunting under his breath at the effort of climbing the creaky stairs with the aditional weight on his knees.

As soon as he sets you down on his bed, you start clawing your clothes off; a task amusingly difficult for your half sleeping, half drunk state. Silco tries not to watch your grumpy effort to get under the soft covers; but it's not an easy thing to do. He's hard –the first glimpse of your smooth naked skin already enough– and he's atracted to you. And you're now completely naked in his bed, twisting around so that you can sink your face into the pillow and inhale. You mumble and sigh, muscles relaxing under the covers, and Silco throbs at the knowledge that is his scent what caused that. Or a promise of a good night's rest.

You fall asleep, and Silco lingers in the bedroom picking up the disaray of your clothes from the floor and putting them into a pile to ease the headache you'll surely have tomorrow. He hovers in place when his fingers close around a black, lacy, pantie; groaning at the thought of seeing you in it. It's almost too pretty to belong to the Underground. He wonders if you only use it on special ocasions –he doubts it's comfortable to wear in any of your spy misions–; and if that's the case, why is he the only man to be lucky to see it. Perhaps you really weren't waiting for anyone else.

He's not proud of it –he doesn't feel guilty either, though, after all, you're invading his space– but he takes it. He pushes it into the safe private darkness of his pocket and leaves the room, resigned to spend the night twisting around in the sofa of his office.

The pounding headache you wake up with the next day quickly reminds you of the –admitedly– too large amount of alcohol you had ingested the night before. You groan all the way through getting dressed, frowning at not finding your underware but too tired to worry about it. You exchange a few words with Silco on your way out –relieved and gratefull that he had been considerate enough to let you crash in his private rooms once again and mortified at the same time–, and return home to shower and go about your day.

You find out all about the dissapearance of the one particular item of your clothing a few days after that. It's just another working day, and you're leaving a stack of business papers on the drawer of Silco's desk when a bunch of suspicously familiar lace calls your attention. Surprised and confused, you grab the fabric and examin it; confirming your initial suspition. It is your pantie. What the hell is Silco doing with this?

As if summoned by your thoughts, Silco chooses that exact moment to pop out of his bedroom, walking down the stairs towards his office in a dark wine red shirt that makes your mouth water. His eyes –still holding a trace of sleep–, inmediately fall upon you; eyebrow silently arching in question at your unexpected visit.

You raise up your hand to show him your discovery with an expectant pop of your hip to the side. Silco's expresion morphs from surprise to recognition to a sort of careless guiltiness. He shrugs as if this were a daily occurence –and a totally normal thing– and you can't help but laugh.

"You fuckin' sociopath" you chuckle while he approaches you. "I was wondering where the hell did my underware go".

Silco stops right in front of you and hums uncomitedly.

"You have a tendency of getting naked when drunk, it seems" he replies with a deep, calm tone.

You tilt your head to study him.

"If you liked me, you could have just told me, you know" you decide to risk it, though you hate to be vulnerable. "Surely it isn't a secret I have a crush on you by now".

Silco can't mask the sincere surprise that travels through his face quick enough. He smirks, then, a single side tug of his lips that shouldn't look that attractive –but it does–.

"I see" his eyes roam through your figure in a sugestive way with undeniable interest. "Come back to my office after work then, darling, and I shall compensate you for my cruel robbery".

The promise of a good time with this man sends a rush of excitement through your veins; and you give him a single firm nod with a victorious grin on your face.