Perfect Even - Tumblr Posts

Hiya I bloody love your writing. I was wondering wether you could write one where reader threatens silco with a knife and he likes it a bit too much

ooooooh I very much like this! Thank you, anon!

And as a reminder, my inbox is always open for silco/reader requests! With the caveat that my timing is entirely unpredictable. (Vampire anon, I swear I will fulfill that request. It's just taking me forever.)

Red-handed

AO3 link

Word count: 2.1k

Beta reader: @deny-the-issue

Tags: silco x f!reader, young Silco, smut, pervy Silco, peeping Silco, thinking-with-his-cock Silco, mutual masturbation, sassy reader,

It’s not something he’s ever done.

But you drove him to do this.

No, maybe not intentionally. But with your lingering presence in the Sons of Zaun’s base of operations, Silco finds he cannot focus.

Every meeting you attend, every mission you escort, Silco cannot get your form out of his mind. Your plush lips, your intoxicating laugh. The way your cheeks blush when you’ve had just one too many drinks at the bar. Ever since you joined the crew, Silco finds himself tongue-tied and unable to withhold his usually calm and aloof demeanor, as if his brain has short-circuited and you are the fuse with too much power, with no hope of controlling the magnitude of your effect in sight. 

You drove him to do this.

It’s the only way.

The only way for him to get over you.

He continues to tell himself this—knowing full well that it’s all a lie—as he scales the side of your apartment building, ocean-green eyes affixed to the window that he knows leads to your bedroom. Once, twice, his hands almost lose their grip on the harsh, rough brick wall, palms sweaty from nervous excitement.

And, oh, what glee! When he finds your bedroom window cracked open and you nowhere to be found. Long fingers tuck under the wooden edge, slowly—painstakingly—opening the window just enough to allow himself through. By some miracle, it doesn’t make a sound, and he’s able to crouch through undetected. But then—

Footsteps.

Your footsteps.

And they’re walking toward the door to this very room.

Silco’s eyes dart around for somewhere to hide, head whipping around. He’s so overcome with panic that he doesn’t notice his hair tie falling from his head to land on the floor, unraveling his messy hair to rest along his sharp cheekbones.

Not enough room under the bed. Wait! There!

He silently leaps into your closet through the small gap in the door, heart hammering in his chest. With one hand pressed to his mouth to quiet his frantic breathing, he looks through the slats of the door to see you emerge from the hallway. 

You’re dressed in nothing but a towel, its soft green fabric wrapped around your middle. Your head is covered by the matching towel you use to dry off your hair, chin tucked as you make your way through your room.

Silco’s eyes scan down your body, his throat bobbing when he sees how high the hem of the towel sits on your thighs and the way your skin glistens from remnants of your shower. He can feel the front of his pants strain as blood rushes to his navel. Green eyes wide, he watches with bated breath, heart an unsustainable rhythm as he realizes what your next move will be.

His eyes dart around him, surrounded by your clothes. The clothes that you’ll be wanting to change into very soon.

Fuck fuck fuck!

Maybe he can hide behind some of the hanging garments, but the closet is so small, there’s no room to maneuver. Internally, he bangs his head against the wall, chiding himself for his idiotic plan.

He clearly had thought this through with the wrong head.

Perhaps he just makes a break for it. If he runs quickly enough, he can dart out toward the front door and sprint like his life depended on it. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to tell who it was.

But the thought of leaving you to deal with the trauma of an unknown stalker twists a dagger into his chest. You don’t deserve to have your safe space violated in such a way.

So why did you do this in the first place?

Silco’s nails dig into his palm as he clenches his fist together at his side.

Stupid stupid stupid!

His self-flagellation is cut short when he hears your footsteps pause abruptly. Looking through the slats, Silco finds you with your second towel draped around your shoulders, your chin tucked, and your gaze affixed on the single black hair tie on the hardwood floor.

Free-hand shoots up to the base of his head to find his low ponytail undone, his long hair now hanging almost to his shoulders.

Fuck!

You pull your towel tighter around yourself before bending down, delicate fingers reaching out for the mystery item. It’s certainly not one of yours. Silco’s fully aware of your penchant for all things green in your wardrobe, your hair accessories no exception. 

Straightening up, you roll the hair tie between your thumb and forefinger, looking at it curiously before looking around the bedroom.

To Silco’s surprise, you don’t look scared.

You simply look confused.

He watches your face as you run through all the possibilities until finally realization paints your features. Then, with the precision of an apex predator, your eyes land on the closet door.

Silco squeezes his eyes shut, his body giving into the third possible reflex of fight, flight, or freeze. His ears pick up the sound of creaking wood as your steps approach his position.

The door opens and Silco feels something cool underneath his chin.

“Silco,” you hum with more amusement than anger.

Eyes still shut, Silco raises his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t look. I haven’t seen anything.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I came to see you.”

You scoff.

“Did the front door elude you?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come.

There’s no way out of this. It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of working eyes what he came here to do. He waits for your wrath, eyelids starting to hurt from how tightly he’s holding them closed. The seconds pass in silence and he’s acutely aware of the cold metal resting against his skin, tucked under his chin.

“Open your eyes,” you instruct, annoyance in your tone.

He does and confirms his suspicion, gaze falling on your outstretched arm that leads to the knife you hold in your hand at his throat. Something about you holding him in such a vulnerable position sends warmth to his belly, rekindling the leftover arousal from earlier. Silco winces, unable to stop his body’s reaction to the predicament he’s found himself in.

Your eyes narrow at his expression, only for them to slowly drift down to the front panel of his pants and the growing tent he’s pitching there.

One of your eyebrows ticks upward.

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty obvious what you came here for,” you hum, amused.

“I’m sorry,” he grovels, finally finding his voice. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your pupils dilate slightly at the confession.

“I thought maybe if… if I did this, it would…” His throat bobs as he struggles to continue. “It would help me get over you. And I can get back to working like I used to.”

You consider him for a moment, your blade still pressed to his skin with the slightest amount of pressure. After a few seconds of thought, you slowly pull the knife away. Silco lets out a short sigh of relief.

“Then do it,” you say, tossing the knife onto your vanity with a loud clang. “Do whatever it is you were planning to do.”

Silco’s eyes widen and the instruction sends even more blood to rush between his legs. 

“What?”

You take a few steps back before sitting down on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs. The towel hikes up at the movement and Silco is unable to stop the reflex of his eyes darting to the dark shadow under the hem of your towel.

“Do it,” you repeat. “Unless you were planning on just watching and then jerking off once you got home.”

Silco’s mouth falls open as he steps out of the closet.

“I was not going to—”

“Mmmm,” you hum, unconvinced, tilting your head toward his growing erection. “Your current state would say otherwise.”

His mouth gapes like a fish, unable to counter your flawless argument.

You lean back on the bed, hands resting behind you as you uncross your legs.

“I’m not letting you leave until you do, Silco.” 

You spread your legs.

“So come on. This is your one chance.”

Green eyes dart between yours, searching.

Surely, this is a trap.

His gaze flicks to the vanity with your knife and back to the bed.

She’s got something else planned.

But then you’re pulling open your towel and letting it fall around you, your sex on full display. Your chest is covered by the towel draped around your shoulders, but Silco can see a peek of the bottom curve of your breasts and it’s the final nail in the coffin.

“I’m waiting,” you taunt.

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

Silco lets out a long sigh as he takes himself in his hand, eyes never leaving you. You sit up a bit straighter, your chest pushing forward as your lips curl into a mischievous grin.

With one experimental stroke, Silco holds back a grunt deep from the back of his throat. You nod in silent instruction and he continues, his fingers wrapped tightly around his cock as he focuses his efforts on his reddened head.

Satisfied, you pull the last remaining bit of cover off you, discarding the towel at your shoulder to fall onto the hardwood, revealing your breasts and your nipples, hardened from the chill air.

And maybe even from…?

The thought of you getting turned on by Silco’s display sends a surge of pleasure through him and he’s unable to contain the hushed groan from leaving his lips. He’s certain he can’t take much more of this, but then you’re bringing your hand to the apex of your legs, fingers moving with purpose as you touch yourself.

Involuntarily, Silco takes a step forward, aiming to close the distance between your bodies. 

You raise your free hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling in warning as you shake your head.

“Look,” you whisper as you swipe a curious circle into your clit, eliciting a small, perfect little gasp from your lips. “Don’t touch.”

Cock in hand, standing across from your naked body, Silco can’t help but wonder how he ended up here. How the gods had blessed him with the most ideal of outcomes. As his pace gets faster and his grip gets tighter, he wonders why he didn’t do this much sooner.

The sounds of you pleasuring yourself—from the slick sounds of your fingers to your soft whimpers and moans—send Silco barreling toward his climax. Eyes locked, your chests both heave as your breathing grows more broken. As both of your speeds continue to pick up, a familiar blush blossoms on your cheeks as you start to crest your peak.

You’re the first to break, your wails reaching unholy heights as you ride out your orgasm. Silco watches in awe as your face twists in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. The image of you coming undone is all it takes to unleash Silco’s release, a groan at his throat as he comes all over his hand, some of it spilling onto the hardwood floor below.

Breaths broken, hearts pounding, you both recover from your highs—you slumped down on your bed as Silco takes a step back to rest against the closet door. 

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your labored breathing.

The mattress groans as you sit up, eyes lingering on the form of Silco’s spent cock in his hands. Grabbing the towel beside you, you toss it to him. He catches it clumsily with his free hand, a soft “thanks” at his throat.

“As lovely as that was, Silco,” you say rising to your feet, “I need you to get the fuck out of my apartment.”

You smirk, taking a step forward.

“I have a date tonight.”

Something green and ugly bubbles up within Silco’s chest, rising to contort his face into an expression of disgust.

“Is someone jealous?” you add.

He replies with a smirk of his own, the brain cells that had eluded him for weeks now finally returning.

“Why should I be? When you’ve already given the main attraction away,” he says, motioning to your naked form.

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, bringing up a hand—the hand you had used to pleasure yourself—to stroke a line from his temple down his cheek to his chin. “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

You pop your finger into your mouth, licking yourself clean with a pop. Silco’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, pupils dilating. Then, with the precarious confidence of his afterglow, he wraps his free hand around your middle, pulling your body flush with his.

“Is there anything I can do to make you cancel your date?”

Your head tilts curiously.

“Perhaps. What’s the refractory period on that?” you ask, hand pointing to Silco’s spent cock.

“Not very long,” he hums. “And that’s not what I would be using.”

One of your eyebrows ticks upward, your lips curling into a grin.

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

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Some headcanons for chenya plz!

𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤, 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕣! 𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥! ♡︎

Sure thing, traveler! I’ll whip this up for you in no time at all! Oh- do pardon the cat puns I have for you! Haha!

𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖…

Che’nya - Nya! Nya! (Head Canons)

Like many cats, Che’nya occasionally eats grass or other household plants, unfortunately RSA’s flower garden has become victim to him.

Che’nya has an addiction to climbing in cardboard boxes and napping in them, the size of the box matters not to him, if he fits he sits.

You know how most cats raise their bums in the air when you scratch their lower back where their tail is? Yes, he does that too and will purr happily if you scratch there.

Chases laser pointers, because of this they have practically been banned within RSA after he nearly destroyed parts of the hallway with his “attacks”.

Che’nya has a scratching post in his room for purrsonal reasons.

As much as it annoys his dorm mates, he has brought them “gifts” in the middle of the night. He has done so to Riddle, he left him an army of hedgehogs all over his room one night while he was fast asleep.

Che’nya has used his unique magic of disappearing against Trey whenever he bakes, tarts, pies, cookies and more have been stolen and taken back to RSA. Unfortunately, Riddle beheaded the wrong culprits because of a certain feline friend (Poor Ace and Deuce…)

Despite being incredibly smart, he is rather lazy and would prefur a catnap in the middle of class, he has been scolded many times for this.

Plays with random balls of yarn and those rubber band balls.

Keep catnip away from him at all costs! He can and will become higher than a hot air balloon… 2 am “zoomies” can and will happen if he gets ahold of it.

Like many cats, put him in front of a 10 hour loop of bird videos and he will sit there for hours.

When he was little he tried to fight the “cat in the mirror”, it was not very successful.

He sleeps with a stuffed mousie, every kitty needs a kitty toy, right?

“Gravity Tests” random objects…

Every frame from my favorite gif on the entire internet:

Pick a favorite! (If that’s even possible.)