#silco rp

[silcohochuspat]

his gray temples make me want to do things to him that are wildly inappropriate for his age

[oceansssblue]

Pantie thief silco

🤣 here goes a little fun one.

Xx, Sky.

(Still taking silco requests, really easy rules in my profile)

PANTIE THIEF – SILCO/READER

WARNINGS: SILCO STEALING UNDERWARE LIKE A CREEP, ALCOHOL. 💖

Silco would'nt indulge anyone else like this. He would'nt allow any of his men the pleasure of getting wasted at the expense of his alcohol; and he wouldn't have the decency to take care of anyone else but you. Like Jinx, you had managed to slip undetected through his carefully constructed defenses all the way into his heart; and now, Silco finds himself carrying an armfull of a very drunk woman up the stairs towards his bedroom.

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.

THE END.

[councilorsilco]

Daughter. Daughter. Look at my daughter.

[revolution-cheri]

No it’s ok Do More Alcohool. Its good for you🙂🙂🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍

Aren't you the... from the Doctor's... cave-lab-thing? How'd you get out, hm?

She leans down and pets the waverider's head.

I don't know about good for me, but you know how it goes. What would you know about alcohol, hm?

[wuzwrngwthmypants]

@industrialist-eye (can't do side blog asks so I'm doing this here-)

"Psst! Hey, hey, hey Silco, hey! Psst! Wake up, come on, get up! Wake up, wake up!"

".........huh..... nothin'....."

"Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwake-"

[jinx-alter]

💉

It's not difficult to follow the sounds of retching to their source. What Silco finds, though, has his brows pinch firmly together. "Jinx... Is that blood?" He grabs a shoulder firmly. "What've you done?"

Jinx reeled back as Silco grabbed her shoulder. She coughed a few times, obviously disoriented and in pain. "W-wasn't my fault. I *cough* I f-fixed it." Her trembling arms hovered protectively over her midsection as if she'd been injured.

"I'm fine, swear. I'm f-fine...." She bit back another gag as the pain in her middle triggered nausea to surge again.

[abysmal-viktor]

Silco inhales short puffs as Viktor's lighter heats the foot of his cigar. Amusement tugs at the scarless edge of his lips when Viktor conspicuously lingers in his personal space, but Silco smothers it before it cracks his mask of disinterest.

Foggy? What a shame. I'd so hoped that the brightest young mind in Zaun could help me out with a little mystery the good sheriff shared.

Silco makes a small, crisp gesture with his cigar.

But I couldn't involve my daughter in this mess, so I'll settle for the second brightest. Strange case of a dose of shimmer that made it all the way up Topside, onto the scene of a burglary, and into the veins of none other than Piltover's Golden Boy. Does any of that jog your memory?

His hand settles firmly on the lid of his cigar box, the lit end of his cigar scant centimeters from Viktor's fingers.

Viktor pauses at the mention of Jayce. He takes a drag before a steady stream escapes his lips.

Hn. I can't say that it does.

Golden amber traces over Silco's cigar. Viktor can feel the warmth of its embers just at his fingertips, before he removes his hand. He bends over the desk, taps the butt of his cigarette in the Chembaron's ash tray, and stands up to wander around Silco's office. As he studies the line of books along the shelves, he says incuriously,

I'm sure he had quite a scare. I wonder how it felt for Topside's precious scientist to taste your Shimmer for the first time. Might you be worried the sheriff will turn you in for tainting the blood of such a nobleman?

Viktor turns to Silco with a masked smile, hoping the redirection of the conversation will sate the baron's curiosity.

[houndunderground]

You step down the stairs into the empty bar. It's closed, around noon, quiet. No kids in sight, jukebox silent, dust particles swirling in the beams of week light coming in from the couple windows.

You flick the lights on. A familiar figure sits at the bar, in his usual spot. He's doing paperwork, of course (you don't realize that he's been doing it in pitch black just a second ago), twirling with a strand of his hair. He doesn't look up.

Oh. Hello, love.

@revolution-cheri

Vander, moments ago, had been dreaming of fire. Even as he steps toward the figure at the bar, he can taste the acrid stench of burning hair, can feel tongues of heat licking at the backs of his arms.

“Silco?”

He’s beautiful in all the ways Vander has forgotten with time and bitterness. His fingers are sharp and pale around his pen. His eyes—both of them, perfect and free-skies-blue—are still set on the page in front of him.

Vander reaches an unsteady hand out, half afraid he’ll wisp away like the memory of this moment almost certainly will once he wakes. But his fingers meet the soft ends of Silco’s hair and it’s like before, like he’s twenty-six again; hopeful and brave and scared and proud and trusting.

“Sweetheart,” Vander breathes. “You’re here.”