Lost Flame | Silco (Arcane)
SUMMARY: Ten years have passed since Silco last saw you, and ever since then, you were all that plagued his mind. No matter how hard he searched, he could never find you. Until one night, you suddenly appeared in his office—in hopes to make amends, and something more.
CHAPTER CONTENT: PIV sex, Oral Sex (female receiving), Sweet and soft Silco, You know that saying? "A man who yearns earns" Confessional sex, Resolved sexual/romantic tension, Reunions, Happy Ending.
AO3 LINK: LOST FLAME | ACT 2
This is part two of @pelicaann's request! Sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy!
VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!
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And the Ear hid in the shadows.
A decade has passed since the first war between the Topside and the Undercity. A long time since the people of Zaun have lived in peace. Now, they suffered even more at the hands of a new tyrant. And what once a dream, created from the depths of the mines, was slowly molded into something else.
When the old king left the throne, the new one took it for himself, and established a reign that no other soul can defy. His word was law, his power was definite. No one can challenge him, no one can escape from him. His governance was cruel, unjust, and he only saw it fit to control those under his watch.
The old Zaun died from smoke and blood.
But then, it was reborn. Built anew.
The streets were bathed in a neon glow, casting the dark alleyways in an oppressive light. Smoke wafted through every corner, thicker now, even more suffocating than before. The people grew dependent on the new king, on what he could offer, the momentary escape from pain and weakness. They fed off of his hands like desperate animals, clawing and scraping each other, just to have a taste of his power.
They were made to believe that it was a cure, a remedy to their diseases, a chance to be stronger than their normal strength. And just like that, people became addicted to the medicine. Even when their bodies twisted and their skin began to be tainted, they still took and took and took from him for more.
It wasn't long until the new king had complete grasp over his new nation, all because of one thing.
You've seen the effects on their bodies, and how it would take over their minds.
The illusion of a cure obstructed the twisted reality of their conditions. It was never a cure, but with the toxins clouding their vision, they never realized that it was a curse all along. They weren't being treated, they were being used. Treated as rats to be tested and controlled.
And word around the grapevine, the king was looking for someone. Some say he lost a dear friend, and was now adamant of turning every tide to find them. Others gossip about a lost love, separated during the first war between Piltover and Zaun. But most believe he was searching for one person all of them knew years ago.
Silco was still looking for you.
You've changed your appearance, from your hair, even picked up on putting on make-up, and down to the way you wore your clothes. You needed to be unrecognizable, more powerful than before. Any ties to your old self were gone, and you made sure to bury the past to where it belonged.
Albeit the change, nostalgia visited you every now and then in the form of memories. Back to simpler times where you were just a barmaid helping Vander in the Last Drop. Back when your friends were still alive, and you all lived together without fear. Back when you used to walk free through the streets of the Lanes, but now unable to because of the infestation. Silco’s dogs prowled around every corner like dogs, sniffing out any threats.
Gangs and thugs were territorial over their territories. Even Enforcers knew better not to visit the Lanes alone, always travelling in packs now.
From what you’ve heard, it’s mostly the newly appointed Sheriff, Marcus, and his men coming in and out.
Not only that, you discovered he’s been working for Silco as his little lapdog.
In the years you've been hiding, you created your own organization hidden from his sight. Your own little business that ran deeper than his sovereign could reach. You knew how he operated, how he kept his little soldiers stationed everywhere to act as the extension of his Eye, so you chose a place he could never find it—and you knew for a fact he was searching for you.
But you never let him get too close.
A level so old that even maps from Piltover’s archives had forgotten it. The Entresol was a labyrinth of corroded walkways and dripping pipes, where the walls throbbed faintly with residual chemlight, glowing green and violet. Few came willingly, fewer still returned.
But down here, you found quietness. Safety. Freedom.
A small clinic built in the undergrounds that deals in medicinal aid—herbs, pain relievers, and many more. Many just think you were just a hermit healer, but in truth, every item sold was payment for silence or leverage. Some of Silco’s Shimmer addicts frequent the clinic without realizing half the things they say end up in your ledgers by morning.
You carved The Remedy out of an abandoned shimmer lab, finding the old notes from the past productions. You took the time to study all of it, trying to understand the inner workings of the drug that can help you with decoding its components. It’s how you were able to craft antidotes, with the help of some of your aides, through months of careful experiments.
A series of trial and errors lead to the production of your antidotes. To this day, it’s still not a proper cure, but it did help to lessen the urge of the victims to relapse.
Rumors started when word got around about your little business, but you had enough power now to control those rumors before it reached the Eye.
No one could say who first named you that, but you didn’t deny the title.
For those who didn’t know the whole story, they said you were part of Vander’s crew, others say you’d grown up in the Lanes with Silco himself. Those who’d seen you claimed your voice was calm as a blade laid flat, sharp enough to cut through lies. In a city built on half-truths and fumes, that made you dangerous.
Your business was never advertised. No, that would catch too much attention.
It started out as a small channel of hidden networks. Those who had been your old acquaintances quickly became your aides, the extension of your ears. There were only a few of them, but they were those whom you trusted not to be bought or bribed, and they always reported back to you once their tasks were over. All they had to do was blend in the shadows, offer an antidote to those who wanted an escape from the painful effects of Shimmer.
Your price was information.
Word of mouth became your currency, and it flowed through the city’s veins faster than Shimmer. After the first war against the Enforcers, leaving Zaun broken and bleeding, you built your sanctuary—The Remedy—deep beneath the Entresol.
You just wanted to relieve the pain from the victims permanently, and to see if the progression of your work would bear any actual results in the future. So far, the only observations you've gathered from your experiments were the victims’ limiting relapse and the decreased purple blisters on their skins. Not so bad of a progress, but it would still require more work.
The smell of antiseptic lung to the walls, fighting an eternal battle against the sweet rot of the underground air. Lanterns of dull golden light swung over your workbench, casting long, trembling shadows. It was fortunate that this place had been abandoned, meaning all of the previous materials and equipment have been left.
Only few knew the paths that led to your clinic, your aides and the Firelights.
Your relationship began by accident, a raid gone wrong in the Topside shipping docks. A nasty wound ran down his side after escaping Enforcers, and somehow he found himself within your territory. Your aides found him nearly dead, passed out against a wall, before they dragged him back to the Remedy.
With little knowledge, save for the things you’ve learned from the past of patching up others and your recent experience, you nursed him back to health until he was stable enough to survive.
Ever since then, you've been a close ally to them ever since you healed their leader, Ekko.
In return, he delivered new equipment and stocks out of gratitude. Then it became a mutual partnership. Remedies in exchange for extended protection and information of what’s happening above.
They brought you bandages, herbs, clean water, and salvaged tools. Anything that can help you better, which means you can help them better. You kept their members alive when raids turned bloody. And not just them, the victims who sought the Remedy. It was close to a friendship, born of the same purpose of survival and safety.
You admired their faith in redemption, the precision and skill in their capabilities.
It wasn’t an easy task to keep something alive in a place where everything rotted.
It was fortunate you were able to discover them, or rather your aides discovered Ekko. You knew things they couldn’t know. Enforcer movements, Shimmer shipments, deals that brokered in smoke-filled rooms. In return, they slipped you through the cracks. Their colors, green and gold, flickered through your tunnels sometimes, reflected in the chemlight. That’s when you’d know they came back with new supplies, and most importantly, seeking new information.
Rarely did you leave your clinic, except to make a visit to the Firelights’ hideout to help with their injured members.
Ekko tried to convince you numerous times to stay there with them, but you refused again and again. It was much safer to not get them involved. After all, they were good people. Not many of those have survived in the Lanes. And the only few remaining ones were Ekko’s found family.
With the help of your trusted aides, you were able to provide the Firelights appropriate information and sold them through trades or medicine. Not just the Firelights, there were other organizations who reached out to you in secret. Just as long as they're not in direct ties with Silco, you'd help them with anything you can—just as long as they paid the price.
It was unfortunate how Zaun had come to this.
The streets have become bloodthirsty, and anyone brave enough to roam the streets would need to know how to survive those ravenous beasts. There were no corners in the Lanes where Shimmer hasn't reached yet, save for Ekko's sanctuary, and you feared its overwhelming power would be too unstoppable for yours. It wouldn't be long until your supplies ran dry, and the ones you have helped would relapse until it would be too late to save them all.
But you knew you needed to do something. It's been years since you've hidden yourself, and you won't allow the dream Vander carried to wither away like the rats in dark alleyways. It won’t die the same way he did—brutal, merciless, and without a chance to be heard.
Then, the day finally came.
Another Shimmer shipment broke out. Which meant another fight between the Firelights and Silco’s men.
Much to your horror, the former dwindled immensely after a lethal ambush by the latter. Somehow, the kingpin’s dogs have sniffed their plan out, and they had anticipated their next raid before the Firelights could even realize their attack would be expected.
When you arrived at their hideout, seeing the amount of Firelights severely wounded, you decided it was finally time to act.
The Ear was done listening.
You adjusted your long skirt, taking a deep breath to calm your frayed nerves.
Just as you turned to leave, Ekko was already there leaning against the wall. A deep scowl was etched on his face, finger tapping repeatedly against his arm. You could practically feel the disapproval radiating from him, and any minute now you'd know he'll explode in a nagging rant like a ticking bomb.
“You sure you really wanna do this?” The Firelights leader finally spoke, jaw set and gaze hard. “You could get hurt, or worse. He'll find out about the Remedy and you won't come back to us.”
Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a solemn look. “I need to try, Ekko. Take a look around. Your firelights are gravely injured because of his men. Maybe this time, a conversation is what he needs to listen. Not violence.”
Ekko merely scoffed, rolling his eyes stubbornly.
“I just think it's dangerous. Not to mention, suicidal if you ask me.”
“That monster doesn't have the heart to listen. And who knows what would happen to you?”
“Just stay here with us! You don't need to go, we can–”
“Ekko,” Your voice hardened, then softened when you saw him flinch. “I’ll be fine. I know how he operates. And I’m not as harmless as you think I am.”
But he was shaking his head, still unconvinced. “It’s not that, doc. I’m just…worried something might happen to you.”
The little nickname tugged a smile on your lips.
Even when you corrected him that you weren’t actually a doctor, he became insistent on the moniker ever since you healed him the first time. However, you understood his concerns, this was a risky plan, but you needed to start gambling now. You’ve been hiding for far too long, but even when you’re not a player in the game, you’re bound to get involved one way or another.
You took a step closer to Ekko, hands coming up to cradle the young boy’s face.
For a moment, he tensed. Until he closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose.
For someone so young, he carried so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders as the Firelights leader. As their hope and anchor.
He has done so much for them, built a sanctuary where they would prosper in peace and live a comfortable life. In the months you’ve known him, you couldn’t help but feel an indescribable sense of pride. In a way a mother would to her son. You saw yourself in him, back when you were his age, filled with dreams and an unwavering faith that you’d change the world someday.
But for the past years, you’ve been doing the opposite. Hiding, listening, and never taking action besides your small work.
And now, you felt it was finally the right moment to come out into the light.
Now, the flame will finally burn again.
“I know you’re worried about me,” You smiled at him, chuckling at his nose scrunch. “But I can take care of myself, Ekko. You forgot, I grew up with Silco.”
“But he’s changed, doc.” Ekko insisted. “You don’t know how he’d act now. He’s not the same man you knew years ago.”
Your smile fell by a fraction, but you forced yourself to continue. “That may be so, but I’ve also changed. That is why I need to do this. Maybe then, I’ll make amends with the man I loved years ago.”
Ekko scoffed lightly at your words, disbelief coloring his features. “You really loved that man? After everything he’s done?”
“I loved him before everything he’s done,” You muttered, releasing his face and stepping back. “I’m not sure I still do. I care for him, as old friends would. But love? Let’s hope it won’t come back to that.”
“Then, that would be good.”
Silence enveloped the room, and you could see the array of emotions flashing across his face.
Uncertainty. Frustration. Doubt. Until finally, resignation.
Ekko stepped aside, unblocking your path, and averted his gaze to the floor as he spoke low.
“Whatever you do, just come back to us.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, and your arms were shooting out and pulling him down for a hug.
A grunt escaped him, forcefully brought down to your height. He didn’t stiffen, but he didn’t move either. Only let you hug him tighter, as though it was the last time you’d ever do, and he must’ve realized that as well. And slowly, his arms were wrapping around your back as his head dropped to your shoulder.
You sighed again, clutching him closer. “I’ll come back, little man. I promise.”
Ekko snorted as he pulled back from you. “Never heard that in a while.”
Releasing him, you pinched his cheek and grinned at his pained yelp.
“Don’t miss me too much,” You remarked teasingly. “And don’t worry too much. God, you’d have more worry lines than me if you keep that up.”
He swatted your hand away playfully, rolling his eyes again.
“Yeah, whatever. Just hold onto that promise, doc.”
“Will do. And if I don’t return, you know who to kill.”
You gave him a final hug, tighter than before, then you were walking away with one last glance over your shoulder. “See you soon, little man.”
Ekko nodded, watching you descend down the tree with his shoulders slumped. “Good luck, doc.”
Once you stepped out of the hideout, you finally released a long breath. Your nerves stirred restlessly, dread and unease pooling in your stomach. Even when you wanted to turn back and enter the hideout again, you knew nothing would change if you kept running away. The streets were being tainted as each second you stalled, and more victims will fall under his power.
You pulled your hood up and marched off with one objective in mind.
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Constantly. Consistently. Continuously.
Night after night, he tried to earn a peaceful rest. But every time he attempted to fall asleep, the images from the past haunted him. The memories of the first war, the sight of Felicia's dead body on the bridge, the toxic waters surrounding him, the blurry image of Vander standing over him from above, and the last memory of you—heartbroken and betrayed—before leaving him.
It varied every single night.
Some nights, he dreamt of Vander. The river where he almost died. The suffocating waters that filled his lungs. Those dreams always resulted in him gasping for air and clutching his neck. Then, he’d stay up all night just so he could avoid seeing it again. But there were those times where he dreamt of your silhouette. And when he wakes from those flashes, he’d force himself back to sleep just so he could return to you—even for just a second, even if it was just a dream.
He tried to remember your eyes and the brilliance shining within them.
He tried to remember your voice, clinging to the softness and warmth it brought to his senses.
He tried to remember your touch, though fleeting, it will always have him aching to feel it once again.
But most of all, he tried to forget you.
Because Silco knew, deep down, there was a chance you were gone.
Even when he truly believed you weren't, that perhaps there was hope you were still out there, he knew you'd never return.
He searched for you, ever since he finally got his revenge on Vander and took over the Lanes. He never stopped looking for you. Any sign, any traces, he didn't stop unearthing everything that could lead to your existence. But every path that could lead to you always led him to a dead end instead. Just when he picked up on something, it would vanish instantly into thin air.
Like the smoke that curled over his cigar, it was there but he'd never been able to grasp it.
Now, his only remnants of you were his dreams.
Those vile, cruel dreams.
He saw you in flashes, not even memories, more like afterimages burned into the dark behind his eyelid. The tilt of your head when you listened, the way your eyes caught the light whenever you smiled at him. The spark of laughter tearing from your chest, your beauty not even a flame can outshine. He always thought of you. Every single time. In every single place.
You were a phantom behind his shadow—untouchable and unreal.
Silco often wondered, if you had survived or never left, what would you become? Would you oppose his ideals and try to change them? Or would you join him in his endeavor as his partner and… perhaps something more?
Knowing you, you’d choose the latter.
And what’s worse, Silco feared he might give you a chance to.
Ten years have passed since he killed Vander and took over the Lanes, and still there was a void within him. Cold, dark, and empty. As time passed, his efforts to find you gradually weakened. He doesn’t even know why he’s holding on to ghosts. To someone who left him behind to die. He should be angry at you for it, but Silco can never find the strength to. After all, it was his fault to begin with. If he had never uttered those words that night, if he knew you were just on the other side of the door, he wouldn’t have said any of those things.
“I don't want her there.”
He dreamt of that as well, the words replaying on a constant loop. And each time he woke up there was guilt stuck at the back of his throat. No matter how many times he tried to swallow it down, it would never disappear. And if there was any way to go back in time and fix all of his mistakes, he would in a heartbeat.
Only in dreams and memories can he reach you. Only in passing thoughts that end up lingering. Only in every familiar yet unknown face who looked like you. Only on quiet nights in his office, the place where he made his second mistake of disregarding your worth.
When he took in Pow– Jinx into his care, he was severely reminded each time he looked at her of the fact how you always used to care for her. How the both of you used to read them to sleep, along with her sister, when Felicia and Connpol were out in the mines. And every time Silco braided her hair, he’d hear the little girl hum a soft tune under her breath, and he’d feel a knife twisting in his chest in recognition and remorse.
It was the same tune you hum when you tucked them in bed all those years ago.
When he asked where she heard that from the first time, Jinx didn’t spare him a glance. Only a dismissive shrug, and a crack in her small voice as she spoke.
“She used to sing it all the time. Don’t you remember?”
Of course, he did. He never forgot. But that was proof that even Jinx remembered you, and it pained him.
You weren't just a dream.
You were never truly gone.
Not when your presence followed him wherever he went. Not when your voice whispered in his ear at night. Not when he felt you listening from afar, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Silco was convinced the waters had truly made him insane. Because he swore he’d see you in the corner of his eye every time he wandered the Lanes. A slip of your hair, or a glimpse of your face catches his attention.
But the moment he turned to look.
Now, Jinx pretended you never existed.
And she believed you were just another figment of her imagination. Someone like Mylo and Claggor, constantly there to haunt her as well. Even when Silco tried to explain to her you were real, and you might still be alive somewhere, the seventeen year old would just scoff and roll her eyes at him.
“Keep dreaming, old man. You might be even crazier than me.”
Silco might just believe her if he spent another day trying to erase you from his mind.
After all, she was his first call when he suspected a trace. He also knew the woman was fed up with his obsession, but didn't dare to speak up about it because she knew better. That's what he liked about her. Compared to Jinx's brash comments, Sevika knew when to keep her mouth shut and only obeyed orders with an annoyed huff. Although, it was only a matter of time before she knocked some sense into him as well.
The only thing he said to her was short yet absolute.
“Tell me immediately when you find her.”
That was years ago, and until now still no word.
He should forget about you. He should pretend you never existed in the first place.
Damn Vander for introducing you to him. Damn all these bothersome thoughts and complex emotions. Damn you for tormenting him for days, months, and years And damn himself for letting you go so easily.
If there was an inkling of hope he'd see you again, he will not make the same mistake twice.
But he shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not when he had other matters to tend to. Not when he should be focusing on his work, on his nation, and not ghosts from his past.
Another chembaron meeting that ended up giving him another headache than peaceful night.
Silco had gone alone, letting Sevika stay back in the Last Drop to look after the establishment in case Jinx decided to accidentally bomb the place again with paint and confetti. It took two weeks to get rid of all the pink and blue colors off of his bar and furniture, and the seventeen year old merely commented that “It’s about time we get those washed up cushions replaced anyway!”
And now, all Silco wanted to do was sit in his office, drink a cold glass of bourbon, and maybe have a cigar as he read through another paperwork.
When the Last Drop came to view, lit green neon lights and his two men stationed at the front, Silco felt something was amiss. His guards tensed immediately as soon as he approached them. They avoided eye contact, as they always would, but this time, they turned their heads away to the sides to actively avoid looking at him. His eye caught one of them gulping and the other shifting on his feet when Silco stopped right in front of them.
“Jinx?” Silco pondered, expecting them to nod. But they shook their heads quickly, and he grew more suspicious. “Well? What is it?”
The one on the left, he didn’t bother remembering his name, glanced at his companion before regarding Silco. “You have a visitor, sir. She asked if you were around, but–”
“We told her you weren’t here,” The other finished, equally frazzled. “The little lady told us she can wait inside. She’s in there right now.”
Silco felt his headache pulsating in his head, but he forced himself to appear impassive. “And you didn’t stop her?”
“She claims to know you, boss.”
“Yeah. Told us you were old friends, and had some business with you.”
They didn’t say anything else, and Silco pushed past them to enter the building.
Immediately, his eye surveyed the area. No customers left, save for the lone figure sitting at the bar with her broad back against him.
“Sevika?” He called her, but received no response other than her shoulders stiffening.
Silco marched towards her, tugging her shoulder back to have her face him. However, she only looked past his figure. Like she saw a ghost, or someone had come back from the dead. On the counter, an empty glass sat there with its ice half-melted. And beside the glass was another glass—filled and untouched.
Silco narrowed his eye, glaring at her in question. “Sevika, what happened–”
“She’s here,” Her gaze remained distant, voice lowering into a whisper. “Silco, she’s here.”
“Who is here?” He slammed his hand on the counter, but the woman didn’t flinch. “You better tell me this instant, before I–”
Sevika finally looked at him, and Silco blinked at the horror in her eyes.
She opened her mouth, and said one word that made his heart drop.
As soon as Silco heard that, he stumbled back and felt his stomach twisting into knots.
He didn't waste anymore time.
The kingpin turned on his heel, and rushed towards the stairs.
Silco nearly tripped on his feet at the last step, but he quickly pushed himself back and continued towards his office.
He skidded to a halt in front of his door, heart racing wildly, before his hand grasped the doorknob.
But when he threw his door open, his body simply froze. His hand fell from the knob, dropping to his side. His chest tightened, unable to breathe properly. He must be dreaming. This was another cruel dream conjured by his deprived mind—another sick and twisted torture—and he was afraid he would wake up again in his room, drenched in cold sweat and guilt.
You turned around to look at him, and Silco’s cold heart ignited to flames.
“Silco,” You said his name softly, as if he deserved its tenderness. “It’s good to see you again.”
Then, you did something he would never expect.
That small knowing curve of your lips he knew from all those years ago, and he could only stare in breathless awe. That same smile that haunted his dreams, that burned beneath his eyelids just before he woke up. The same smile he longed to see once more. The same smile you always gave him when he walked alongside you to the mines, or when he caught you staring at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.
And what pained him the most was the fact you were even more beautiful than before.
As he studied you, memorizing every detail in your features, he was quickly reminded how much time has passed.
You looked older, worn from exhaustion yet so brilliantly radiant still. Like the stars he used to gaze with you on rooftops, like the rarest gem to exist in this world. Your hair changed, even the way you dressed did as well. You’ve changed, but Silco cannot stop from stepping closer to commit everything to memory—just in case it would be the last time he’d do so.
He didn’t reply. No, not yet.
He was afraid that if he did, this would all end as all his dreams of you would. Instead, he took another step forward. Just one. Then, another. He slowly closed the door behind him, yet his gaze never strayed from your face.
After all these years, after all the nights he had spent thinking and dreaming of you. After coming to every dead end to find you—
His lost flame has returned.
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It was unfair how handsome he had become, even more so than before. Even when the left side of his face was scarred, layered with ivory powder, you still found his beauty imperfectly flawless. Even when his dark hair was streaked with grey. Even when one of his eyes burned orange rather than a familiar sea-green. Even after all this time, Silco still made your heart race uncontrollably—and you hated it.
“Silco?” You called again, tilting your head. “I know this visit is unexpected. Unwarranted, even. But I really anticipated something much different than this reaction.”
He still didn’t give a response, only taking another echoing step.
In return, you stepped back.
And he followed silently.
You expected him to be furious, to shout or even demand where you have been for all these years. You expected him to have his hand around your neck, constricting your throat in revenge for leaving him. You expected him to look at you with all the hatred he had with Vander. After all, both of you left him to burn and drown. At the same time. At the same night. At the same place.
But you didn’t expect the way he was looking at you. With stunned awe, like how he always did before. And he didn’t blink, he didn’t say anything. It terrified you. You didn’t know what he was thinking right now, but you knew enough to be cautious. He was still a dangerous man, and you were in his territory now—right in his den—and there was no escape.
Steeling your nerves, you narrowed your eyes and clenched your fists.
“Say something,” Your voice hardened, but he still remained silent. Silco only stared, transfixed, lost in a trance.
You gritted your teeth, stepping back as he slowly closed the distance. He didn’t stop walking forward, and you didn’t stop walking backwards. Until you bumped against his desk, and you glanced over in panic.
Now, there was truly no escape.
You turned towards him again. “Silco, I swear. Shout at me, curse me. Ask me why I’m here. Ask me where I went. Anything! Just say something–”
In an instant, his palms—rough, cold, and trembling—were cupping your cheeks.
And the following words died in your tongue.
Silco finally breathed, face mere inches from yours. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”
You hated the fact you melted at the reverence of his voice. You hated how little guard you have, how your walls crumbled quickly the moment he held you. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re not supposed to feel warmth. You’re not supposed to feel the urge to pull him close and cry into his arms. You’re not supposed to fall even more.
You only realized right then and there, maybe you’re not supposed to be here.
“Beautiful?” You scoffed, tears building in your eyes. “Ten years since we last saw each other, that’s the first thing you say to me?”
The kingpin was unbothered by the bitter venom in your tone, his thumb stroking your cheek as if a tear had already escaped. He leaned down, until you could feel his breath mingling with yours, ghosting over your lips as he spoke again.
“After all these years, you still look as radiant as the stars.” His nose brushed against yours, his good eye flickering down to your lips. “I regret never saying it in person. I have many I wish to apologize for. So, let me finally have this chance to tell you. You’re beautiful. Then, and now. Forever, and always.”
You searched his expression, only finding honesty and most of all—
Your objective surfaced in your mind, and you pushed him gently with your hands on his chest.
“Silco, I came here to talk.”
“Good, because I'd like to–”
His lips were on yours—hard, bruising, and desperate—and you could only gasp at the intensity of it.
Silco kissed you with all the weight of the years he had missed. With all the longing sadness and restrained need, blended together in a single breath. Tilting his head to mold himself into you and cradling your face in a possessive hold. As if trying to convince himself this was real, and you wouldn't vanish again. Your control, or what’s left of it, had disappeared the moment he parted his lips and tasted yours in a pleading sweep of his tongue.
You thought to yourself, but you were already clutching his collar and pulling him closer.
But then, you met his tongue with equal fervor. And he groaned with relief. His hands travelled down, lithe arms encircling your waist to hold you tighter. Against your better judgement, your arms were around his neck as the kiss gradually deepened.
“Silco,” You managed to whisper in between kisses, and the man growled low at the sound. “We need to talk–”
He didn’t let you, only returned to your mouth.
Hungrier. Deeper. Harder.
And fuck, your knees almost gave out—you almost forgot what you wanted to talk about—just because of that little endearment. Just because of the way he uttered it so naturally, like he’s been wanting to say it for so long. You didn’t argue anymore.
How can you when he quickly devours every sound and air from your lungs?
How can you struggle against him when your own body melted under his mercy?
How can you deny yourself any longer of the suppressed desire when he himself accepted it?
Then, his hands slipped down to your thighs, and you were being lifted onto his desk before your mind could catch up to his strength. You let him in between your thighs, so easily and effortlessly, while he tugged you closer against him. You could feel the lust, pure and unadulterated, pouring from him. You could taste the desperation in his tongue, the heat radiating between your bodies.
His scent, dark and masculine, filled you with nostalgia and bittersweet comfort. It reminded you of his old journals, laced with bourbon and cigar smoke. Dangerous, but frighteningly addictive. You breathed him in greedily, taking everything you could get.
“You’re not a dream anymore,” He rasped against your jaw. “You’re not in my head anymore.”
Shaking your head, you tilted your head back as he ravished your neck. “I’m here. I’m alive, Silco.”
He hummed, licking the skin of your pulse, chuckling as it stuttered from the action.
“You are, my beloved. I always knew you were.”
“It can wait, my dear. But I can’t.”
You gasped, whimpering in slight pain as he nipped your neck and sucked. Teeth on your throat, hands slipping beneath your skirt, and his breath hot on your skin. Those calloused palms caressed your thighs, soft and reverent, before squeezing the flesh harshly. Enough for it to bruise for the next few days to come. But you could hardly care, the moment you've been wanting for so many years has finally come.
Silco returned to your lips, sighing into them as you welcomed another dizzying kiss. This time, you moved together in sync. No battle, no rush, no hurried pushes. Only him, only you, and only the sounds of your hearts beating in unison.
Then, he parted from you.
Forehead pressed on yours, Silco let out a stuttered breath. “For so many years, I have always wanted to do that.”
You sighed, opening your eyes. “To kiss me?”
His fingers teased the skin on your upper thighs, his jaw flexing against the light. “Amongst many other things, my dear.”
Somehow, that sent a flash of heat through you.
Memories of old desires, concealed fantasies tucked between your sheets, and the tension from all those years have returned. As you stared into his mismatched eyes, one made of sea-foam belonging to your Silco, and the other molten scarlet belonging to the Eye of Zaun, you realized right then and there how much you want to make up for lost time.
You kissed his jaw, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “Then, what's stopping you?”
His hands reached your hips beneath your skirt. With a rough voice next to your ear, Silco purred. “Your clothes.”
In the next moment, you were being lifted off of his desk and towards his couch.
His lips were back on yours, wilder and hungrier, moving with a kind of passion that rivaled his wrath. He set you down on the cushions, bracing himself above you. You blindly fumbled on the cravat clipped on his collar, as he hurriedly took off his coat whilst kissing you. Once the material was on the floor, you didn’t waste time unbuttoning his dress shirt. Until he stopped you before you could start.
“Patience, my love.” Silco murmured, chuckling softly at your frustrated groan. “I know, I’m a hypocrite. But that can come at another time. For now, I want to focus on you.”
He said that as he started unbuttoning your buttons, dexterous fingers worked your blouse open, until the fabric revealed your camisole. When your blouse joined his coat, his lips moved down to your neck until he was kissing the top of your breasts. You gasped when he bit your skin, then whimpered as he started to suck on the area.
He froze at the sound, his harsh breathing stopped, and for a moment he didn't move or talk.
When you opened your eyes in question, you saw him already staring at you.
And you gulped at the dark look he gave you.
“I want to take this slow,” His rough cadence dripped with warning. “But you're making it extremely difficult.”
“Difficult?” You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Not the first time. You should know that by now, Silco.”
A knowing smile twitched on his lips, and he chuckled at the memory. “Oh, yes. How could I forget? How stubborn–”
He placed a kiss on your lips, sweet and lingering.
And another on your neck where your pulse raced.
Then, another on your chest.
“And difficult you were,” His hands slipped beneath the hem of your camisole, raising the fabric up to your waist. “But even so, you were undeniably tempting. Especially when you always look so angry with me.”
Huffing, you rolled your eyes at him. “Of course you'd find me hot when I'm angry.”
He gave you a boyish smirk, and your heart ached at the familiar sight. “Why else would I constantly pick a fight with you?”
You gaped, cheeks warming. “Cheeky bastard.”
Silco raised your camisole completely, gaze flickering down to your exposed breasts.
“That's not the name you'll be calling me later, my dear.”
Then, his hot tongue was on your nipple.
And you whined at the wet sensation dancing around your skin.
He lavished your body with sensual enthusiasm. One ravenous mouth on one breast, and a greedy hand on the other. Before he switched places and did the same treatment. His free hand disappeared beneath your long skirt again, finding your embarrassingly soaked underwear.
Silco hummed at the discovery, while you wanted to let the cushions swallow you whole.
“Eager, aren't we?” He simpered, letting a finger hook into the fabric and pulling it aside. “Now, now. No need to be shy, my love. Let's remedy this, shall we?
You almost flinched at the word remedy out of panic, but calmed immediately when continued kissing your breasts and began dipping his finger along your slick folds. He teased the area in languid glides, from your entrance and up to your clit, before he drew circular patterns around that had you squirming in response.
His mouth trailed down between your breasts, to your tense stomach, careful not to trigger your sensitive sides he knew you possessed.
“So wet for me,” Silco murmured, pleased and smug about it. “Have you thought of this before, my dear?”
Nodding was all you could do, too busy gasping for air as his finger slipped and entered your walls easily.
Silco watched you in rapt attention, never straying his gaze elsewhere. “Enlighten me, darling. What have you thought of?”
Different scenes flashed.
All of which in a time when you still helped with the bar. When Silco accompanied you to the mines. When you shared glasses in the late hours of the night. Back when you two almost kissed too many times, and you always thought of scenarios of what could've happened if you two had been uninterrupted.
Scenarios containing wandering hands, mingling breaths, bodies tangled together, strewn clothes on the floor, and strangled sounds echoing around your room. Of course you used to think of those, it was hard not to when Silco was the perfect muse to your carnal fantasies. His hypnotic gaze, his deft hands, his sultry voice, and his magnetic charm all had you foolishly in love and lusting in shame.
He curled his finger slowly, tearing a shaky moan out of your throat.
“Well? I'm waiting, my dear.”
“I thought of you before. Just like this. When we were young. And– Fuck, Silco.”
You tried to formulate the right words, but they vanished from your tongue the instant he added another finger and dragged both upwards.
Until he started an unhurried rhythm that made you forget even more words.
Instead, you could only moan and whimper as his pace gradually quickened.
Meanwhile, Silco never stopped watching you with that obsessive stare. It only added to your heightening arousal, feeling its weight and intensity on you the whole time—the lust, the adoration, and the reverence all shining in his sea-green eye.
“How many nights have I imagined you like this?” Silco took the reins of the conversation, smooth and sharp at the same time. “How many days I yearned to be with you, to keep you by my side. But I was a coward. A fool who let a treasure slip from my grasp. I won't let that happen again.”
He declared all of those while planting sweet kisses on your stomach, bordering the waistband of your skirt. But what happened underneath it was far from sweet. Another finger, now three, moved inside your walls in perfect tandem. Every brush against your sensitive spot, every curl and subtle twist, every scrape of his fingertips all had your body trembling in pleasure.
You didn't notice your skirt being lifted farther up, the hem now bunched at your waist, until you felt a warm puff air hitting your clit. And you didn't even have the chance to open your eyes to see what he was doing, because you were throwing your head back as soon as his lips met your clit and deliberately sucked on the swollen bundle.
Gasping, you writhed restlessly. “Fuck, Silco. That feels– Please don't stop.”
A low growl vibrated against your core.
He didn't say anything else, only ravaged you with more ardor. His tongue pressed flat on you, licking you open before he traced your clit using the tip in purposeful strokes and possessive intent.
You didn't realize it, if you did you would've known he was spelling his name.
But that discovery flew over your head, lost in immense ecstasy.
He didn't stop even when your thighs closed in around his head, almost suffocating him. He didn't stop even when your nails scraped his scalp and tugged on his strands harshly, only groaned at the stinging pain. He didn't stop until you were gasping louder, repeating his name in desperate chants, and felt your walls clenching around his fingers.
“You’re close,” He stated lightly, but his voice turned heavy. “That’s it, darling. Don’t hold back. I’ve got you.”
His fingers sped up, his mouth sucked faster, and you released a strangled moan at the increasing heat spreading across your body and down to your center.
“Silco,” Your back arched, head thrown back on the armrest and lips parted. “Fuck, I’m– So close. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Your lungs burned, his tongue burned hotter, and the peak was just within your reach.
With another curl and another suck, he commanded. “Come for me.”
The tension in your stomach snapped. All of a sudden, white-hot pleasure washed over you in great waves. Drowning all thoughts, all your senses, in place of sensations you’ve never experienced before. Not this extreme. Not this consuming. It lingered even after the blinding light behind your eyelids faded, and you could only sob as you felt him lapping your release in vehement hunger—but not with rushed movements.
No, he devoured you slowly. Intentionally. Deeply.
Not to overwhelm you, but to savour the taste as if it was the most divine thing he has ever had. In case it would be the only time he’d ever have. Until you decided it was too much, and a mild discomfort followed behind the overstimulation. His fingers carefully slipped out, the same time he pulled his head away after you gently pushed him back.
Albeit the loss, Silco looked perfectly content.
When your eyes finally fluttered open, damp with unshed tears, you took in the obscene sight of him.
His jaw and chin were drenched in your slick release. Tousled pepper-salt strands fell over his forehead. A tongue swiped over soaked lips. And the half-lidded dazed look in his eye took your breath away.
“If I knew you could do that years ago,” You couldn’t help but grin tiredly. “I would’ve been the one to confess first.”
Something flickered in his features, but it was gone the moment it slipped through the cracks of his scars.
He recovered, giving you a small smile and a shake of his head. “We can make up for lost time, my dear. And I truly plan to commit everything I’ve failed to.”
You returned the smile, bringing your hands to his cheeks. “As long as we’ll have that talk later, Silco.”
He followed your touch, crawling over your body until his lips touched yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and you moaned at the way he kissed you. Full, warm, and so achingly sweet. When he tilted his head, pushing himself closer, you met him eagerly. His hands caressed your thighs, relishing the softness under his wandering touches.
“Are you alright, my dear?” Silco asked, briefly separating from you. “Or do you want to talk now–”
You cut him off by pulling him back, growing more frantic. “Later, my love.”
He growled into your lips, matching your impatient pace. “Later, then.”
You felt his hardness through his pants when he rolled his hips, and you grinded back to show him your desperation. He didn’t need any more command, one of his hands was already unfastening the clasps of his pants. When he was finally free, long and hard in his palm, he glided his tip along your soaked slit. Until he was thrusting his length between them, moving back and forth to coat more of your release on his cock.
Fuck, how long have you wanted to do this?
How many years, ever since you first patched him up, have you desired him like this?
Far too long. Far too painful.
And now you were both here, after waiting and longing for each other, sharing one breath and one love.
It wasn’t long until you were pleading him for more. “Silco, please. Please, I can’t wait anymore.”
The sound of your voice, soft and beautifully tempting, broke his final control.
He gathered a sharp breath, nodding once, before he took himself in hand and directed his tip to your entrance. And you could only wait on bated breath. Silco’s gaze found yours, dark yet full of assurance and comfort. You gave him a nod, cradling his face and stroking his scars. He lowered himself again, kissing you softly, just as he started to push inside and—
Both of you moaned in unison, gasping in each other’s mouth, holding each other close.
“Fuck,” You heard him curse silently, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Breath for me, my love. I won’t last if you keep squeezing me tight.”
Your heart thundered violently beneath your chest, and no doubt his own was the same. You tried to relax, diverting your attention to playing with the silky strands between your fingers as you reached up. Meanwhile, Silco was breathing heavily in your neck, and you felt him throbbing inside you the more he inched his cock inside. It seemed like he was trying to keep himself from thrusting all the way in, and luckily the discomfort didn’t last long.
When he was finally inside you, hips flushed with the back of your thighs, he let out a ragged groan that shook your core.
“Tell me when,” His voice drifted in your ear, strained yet soothing. “You feel divine, my dear. So perfect for me.”
You eventually let your arms fall around his neck, and you were rolling your hips against his to signal him to move.
Wordlessly, Silco answered you.
He started slowly, pulling back just to let you feel the hard drag of his length, before pushing back in until his tip reached that spot within you. Your toes curled when he began thrusting long and deep, burying his rough groans and strangled growls into your neck. You clung to him, moaning broken syllables of his name. He whispered yours in return, holding your thigh open to allow him to thrust deeper into you.
“I must apologize,” He rasped at your collarbone, snapping his hips upwards. “I imagined our first time somewhere more comfortable. A bed. In my room. Not here.”
You shook your head, meeting his thrusts. “Next time. We can– Fuck. We can do that next time.”
His hips stuttered at your words, but he quickly recovered to his rhythm.
There was an itch that threatened beneath your skin. Until you realized it was a crave. You wanted more. You needed more from him.
Something primal tore from his chest, triggering a sudden urge to drive himself quicker.
The change immediately had you stifling a scream that would've been heard by Sevika downstairs, but Silco was there to silence it one just before it poured off your lips, stealing the sound for himself. You kissed him back with the same intensity, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Your head swam in muddled thoughts of him, your body breaking apart in every stroke and thrust.
Silco used your hips as a leverage, holding you down in place as he picked up his pace. It wasn’t about making up for lost time now. It was about chasing the fire that used to ignite between the two of you. It was about giving into the long suppressed need, desire, and lust. The unspoken confessions, and the silent devotion.
You let him leave bruises on your neck, your hips, your throat. Everywhere he could imprint the reminder of himself on your body. Branding you to him. And in return, you held him tighter. His lips roamed across your chest, his hands went up to your waist, his hips never faltered—pounding deeper and deeper inside. You muffled your sounds against his shoulder, while he suppressed his own through gritted teeth.
When your walls began to clench around him, Silco cursed and braced one hand on the armrest above your head.
“Don’t come yet,” He instructed, but you only whimpered out of protest. “Not until I say so, my dear.”
Even now, he still denies you.
Beautifully, cruel Silco.
Still, you accepted everything. Not because you were told to, but because—somewhere twisted and hidden deep inside you—you loved him. Enough to accept his cruelty, and see it as love. Or maybe it was, because the moment you pleaded for him again, he kissed you instead of uttering another command. And when you sobbed his name, Silco’s restraint melted away.
He pressed his forehead on yours, and your lashes fluttered open to see him staring at you with open adoration and raw possession.
“Promise me you won’t leave again. Promise me you’ll stay here.”
You heard Ekko’s words at the back of your mind. Whatever you do, just come back to us. The tears finally fell from your eyes, but you forced yourself to smile up at him and nod.
“I’ll never leave you again.”
“Good. Because I won’t let you. Not when I finally have you.” Then, he kissed your tears away. “You’re mine now, my love. You always were. You always will be.”
That both broke your heart and stitched it back together again. You’ve always wanted to hear him say that, but nothing could prepare you for the reality. After all this time, he still loved you. Even time made you grow apart, fate would always lead you back to each other. You weren’t oil and water. No, you were smoke and flame. And you knew, he wouldn’t mind the blisters in his hands—just as long as he could hold you like this even when you burned too much.
Finally, he whispered those three words. That small sentence that broke you to pieces.
You shattered, coming undone as he followed after.
And the pleasure was unlike anything you felt. Much more overwhelming than the first one, but certainly not the last. Bodies pressed together, the two of you held each other as the pleasure reached its peak and you were both lost in the afterglow. No other words can describe it. It was as simple as that, he confessed what you've been longing to hear for a decade. And in return, you cradled his face in trembling hands and whispered the same words back—soft, weak, but true.
For the first time in a long while, Silco smiled.
Not only that, he laughed.
The same hoarse laugh you dreamed of so many times. The same laugh that taunted you when you got hurt. The same laugh that warmed your cheeks and made you ache to hear more. Rare as it was, you treasured every single one close to your heart.
Silco kissed you again, lingering just a second longer before he parted. “Don't make me wait again.”
You laughed as well, ignoring the soreness in your body. “You made me wait first, Silco.”
He only grinned, shaking his head in amusement.
“A fault I deeply regret, but I have all the time in the world now to atone for my sins.”
“Perhaps you should start now.”
“And who knew you would be an insatiable little thing.”
Rolling your eyes, you playfully swatted his chest and gave him a pointed look.
“Ten years, Silco.” You tugged his collar down, nose brushing against his. “You have a lot of making up to do after we talk.”
He grinned, coy and sultry, before his hips rolled again and wiped the glare on your features. Fuck, you forgot he was still inside, and still hard. Perhaps, you weren't the only one who's insatiable. And perhaps the night would run longer than you thought.
Carefully, he slipped out of you.
You were about to curse him out, but then he was turning your body over, until your front was on the cushions, and your skirt was being lifted over your propped thighs. The heat of his body returned, hovering on your back, as his cock entered inside you again in one smooth thrust.
“The talk can wait,” He whispered in your ear, rough and heavy. “I’m still not done with you.”
And something told you he won't let you go until he has you in his grasp.
The next morning, you stirred awake—too sore to move—and felt an arm around your waist. Memories of the previous night played in clear sequence, distinctly remembering how you ended up in his bed. After adjusting to the new setting, you only registered everything. Silk sheets beneath your skin, sinfully soft and tempting. A warm breath on your shoulder. Bare bodies pressed close. Legs tangled beneath dark covers. And a cool chain around your neck.
When your finger touched the pendant, you gasped softly in recognition.
Lips glided on your shoulder, raising goosebumps in its wake, and you felt Silco’s raspy voice burning your skin like an oath.
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