Serenity X Endymion

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Sway Chapter 4

Silco x Fem!Reader 2.3k words- Mature (but not explicit) 

There was a voice, a distant voice in your mind screaming. Screaming for you to run. You suppose it was the voice of reason but it was growing fainter by the moment especially as you focused on the sensation of your hand in Silco’s. His long fingers playfully tracing imaginary circles on your skin. 

That voice said this was bad for you. That voice said this was dangerous. But who could hear a voice like that over the horns that filled the room with such delectable energy, casting a spell on all its inhabitants--yourself included.Even if you could hear it, its warnings were wasted-- you had no intention of listening. You wanted that voice to know that you were dangerous too, even if Silco hadn’t figured that out just yet. Where’s the harm in a little fun?

Silco placed his free hand on your whiskey of truce. 

“May I?” He asked, indicating your empty glass. The heat of your earlier disagreement had somehow transformed Silco into the perfect gentleman, so much so you half expected him to pull a rabbit out of hat. You didn’t buy his act for a second but wouldn’t stop you from enjoying playing it to its conclusion. 

“You may.” You replied, flashing the smile that had opened every door for you. Silco’s hand disappeared from yours to fill your glass. You suppressed the urge to pout from the loss of contact and immediately heard that internal voice chiding you for feeling that at all. But all that faded away when Silco handed you your drink and raised his own newly refreshed glass to cheers you. 

Glasses clinked and the taste of whiskey danced on your tongue but your senses were lost entirely to the feeling of gazing unblinkingly into Silco’s eyes as you both drink deeply trying to match the burn of the drink to the burn you feel rising within you.

“Allow me to re-introduce myself. I’m Silco.” 

Remy’s words echoed through your mind. He’s a big fish. So this is sink or swim.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Silco. I’m Irene.”

“It’s impossible to not know who you are in the Undercity. You’re all anyone talks about.” Silco responded lightly, raising his glass to your accomplishment. You made no such move, something Silco immediately took notice of. 

“You really don’t know, do you?” his eyes searched your features for the answer you were unwilling to give. Out of your depth and you hated it.

“Well congratulations, they adore you. Everyone who walks in this place seems to leave a convert. I’m going to have to start holding my meetings here just to get anything done. ” The bitterness and sarcasm in his voice obscured the compliment but filled in the pieces. 

So that’s what he was doing here. You had recognized several of the faces at his table, they were regulars.

“Clearly not everyone’s impressed…” You trailed off for him to get the hint to which he didn’t miss a beat. 

“According to you I ‘enjoyed the show of my life’ tonight.” He teased. Perhaps it was the whiskey but he seemed rather human, not at all the big bad crime boss you had prepared for. There was undeniable power, danger and appeal rolling off of him but you felt rather disarmed at his effortless banter. There was still heat in it but it was the kind that made you notice how soft his hair looked and how much you’d like to run your fingers through it.

“Well that I know for sure. You might not be impressed but you certainly enjoyed it.” You laughed in between flirty glances.

“You’re rather confident. What makes you so sure of yourself?” Silco’s eyes resumed that uninterested look his handsome features wore so well.

You had had far too much whiskey. That was the only explanation for what happened next. 

Your eyes lingered on him as your smile changed minutely in ways only he could notice, foot beginning to travel up the inside of his leg from where it remained extended on your side of the booth. The fabric of his pants creating delightful friction against the slow drag of your heel. Your eyes studied his, noting the way he tensed beneath your movements with the realization of your destination. You leaned over the table a little more as if to confide in him, allowing for a better view of your cleavage as you started up his thigh. 

Silco doesn’t look at you, a repeat of this evening's events, which is why the heavy sigh and tremble of his leg stops you in tracks just short of your destination. It was only from this close study that you could notice the tension throughout his body, as though he was showing a great deal of restraint. Whether that was to stop him from throwing you down on the table and stangling or fucking you remained unclear. But it was far too late to tread lightly.

“You do.” you replied in hushed tones only he could hear. “Let’s just say I notice when I’m appreciated.” The edge to your smile giving away your meaning.

His eyes snap back to yours revealing an intensity and undeniable hunger roiling within. 

“Don’t flatter yourself-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You interject, cutting him off with your infamous charm, eyes still locked on his, intensity breathing like flames in your silence. You could have lived your entire life inside that delicious moment, savoring the seduction of uncertainty and anticipation.

“You’re mistaken.” Silco’s cold and careful tone told you that this was an instruction to drop it, breaking your reverie. But heedless of this warning you continued.

“It would be impossible to mistake something of that…caliber.”  You retorted. 

A smirk made its way across Silco’s face, abandoning the severity of his last remark, no doubt flattered. But you needn’t flatter him at all when the truth was somehow more complimentary. It was what had made your moment together so sweet-- the knowledge that despite all his postering you still had quite the effect on him. That feeling had wound itself inside you and sent your own heat to complimentary places. An understanding forming between the two of you now much like earlier in the evening.

“For all the trouble you’ve caused me, it’s good to know that this evening wasn’t completely miserable for you.”  You said through light laughter as he studied your features like an animal stalking his prey.

The caress that trailed across your ankle came as a surprise, nearly breaking your facade as his long fingers moved absently up your leg, his eyes still focused on you.

“Tell me, do I have to worry about a jealous boyfriend after tonight’s performance?”

“I don’t do boyfriends.”

“Girlfriend, partner,-- whomever.”

“I don’t really do those either.” You clarified finding sudden fascination in the whiskey dancing in your glass. 

“And why is that?” Silco’s hand stilled on your calf, his eyes waiting for yours. 

You didn’t know if this was part of the game or not. It was startling how easy it was to slip into something else entirely with the way he was looking at you. You knew you had him. This should be a couple of well placed batts of your eyelashes away from your own personal victory but it didn’t feel that way. You hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. You hadn’t exaggerated. But for all the times you’d done this before, this dance was undeniably different and that gave way to an uncertainty, a longing. A weakness you knew was far better hidden than discovered.

“I don’t date people I meet at the club, it’s a personal rule.” You said, your eyes finally meeting that mismatched gaze that could make you melt. In fact, it may have already.

He waited for you to go on but you didn’t, suddenly feeling cold like a draft had breezed in. 

“I’m glad to know I won’t be incurring the wrath of a jealous lover then.” Silco said resuming drawing languid shapes on your leg. You let out an easy laugh at both his wit and his action, lifting your glass in a toast.

He spared me. He saw my vulnerability, his opening and he didn’t take it. He could have pushed me but he didn’t. A trap? Perhaps, but it only added to the irresistible intrigue.

“You're safe. I don’t date people from the club and since I practically live here, there’s no jealous lovers to worry about.”

“That’s a shame.” He retorted with a smirk.

“What can I say? I like to keep things professional.” The irony of your words weren’t lost on either of you.

“This evening's little display is what you consider to be professional?” Silco chuckled, appraising you.

“Mmhmm,” You pulled him closer as if to tell him a secret. “You should see me when I'm being unprofessional.” You said with a wink.

Silco raised a curious eyebrow but his eyes spoke of something more; calculating, methodical, and entirely alluring. 

“What about you?” You interjected to keep yourself from getting lost in those eyes. “Do I have a target on my back after this evening's performance?”

This time he was the one reaching for his answers at the bottom of a whiskey glass. 

“No,” he said with an amused exhale, “I don’t have the features, temperament, or interest necessary to be a lover.”

His words were cavalier enough but they struck at a spot between your ribs, casting you back into your reverie. His long fingers trailed up and down the smooth skin of your leg in a delicious caress. Your leg tugged his chair closer to your seat around the side of the table. The upward curve of his lips indicated his enjoyment of your little game but no such surprise. No, the surprise came when you reached for his face, however subtle it may have been. A sharp look buried in practiced indifference as he focused his gaze on something you couldn’t see. Your fingers could nearly feel the heat of his skin when his hand closed harshly around your wrist. His eyes shifted to yours causing your breath to catch in your chest. 

There he was. The terrifying crime lord you had heard such disturbing rumors about. All of the sudden you believed everything you had heard about him as his eyes fixed you with a look so sharp and cold it froze your blood. You blinked, taken aback by this sudden change and his grip on your arm.

“I--I’m sorry. That was unforgivably rude of me.” You said quietly avoiding his eyes. Avoiding that look. He released you with a disinterested toss of your hand, leaving your skin burning from where he held it. Silco returned his hand to his lap where your legs still laid draped over him, no doubt seeing this as the end of your little game. But it wasn’t. Not for you, anyway.

Perhaps this had become something more. You couldn’t help but study him, as he took his whiskey and looked anywhere else but at you. Your eyes raked over him, finding yourself fully enthralled by him; fascinated and curious by his cold mystery.  Your fingers gave his a soft squeeze and his gaze snapped back to you with a sharp confusion. An easy smile lingered on your lips, however gentle and out of place, as you held his gaze unafraid. 

“May I?” you asked, quietly. You dare not move an inch before he gave you an answer but as the silence dragged on no answer came. A no would have been fast. His brow furrowed, tension finding its way into each of his muscles until finally he gave a small, nearly imperceptible nod.

Silco didn’t look at you as your fingers gently traced the scars on his face, fingertips finding their way into his hair as your thumb caressed his impossible high cheekbones. You could feel the stories these lines told; pain, sorrow, loss, and something more that was just out of reach. Silco relaxed minutely under your touch, a change so small you wondered if he even noticed. You traced your fingers down his scar until it stopped at the corner of his mouth and noticed your thoughts had drifted to planting a kiss there. An urge you were able to suppress while you were lost in your reverie. Perhaps one Silco had picked up on as he was now watching you as your touch lingered on his lips.

“I can’t speak for temperament or interest,” You whispered, “But you certainly have the features of a lover.” 

A small smile spread over Silco’s sharp features as his hand slowly made its way up your thigh, causing you to sigh under the delight of his touch.

“Is that so? Well, then I suppose there is only the small matter of your rule,” His voice dark and rich as he slid his fingers under your chin, “We wouldn’t want you to break your own rule, now would we?”

You could feel his warm breath on your face and the heat it sent throughout your body. Silco’s thumb softly caressed your bottom lip and you couldn’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear Cyrano,” You whispered and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

Sliding your legs off his lap you stood to go, stopping to whisper something directly into his ear.

“But I do hope I have made you a convert.” Your smile making its way into your voice as your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 

Straightening up before you make your way back to your dressing room, you cast one final glance to find him dripping in your mutual heat with that devilish smirk on his lips. 

“Keep the bottle.” You say over your shoulder with a wink, leaving him to drink his whiskey alone. 

As you weaved your way through the club you could feel the sensation of his eyes on you. Only once you’d made it safely back to the privacy of your dressing room, could you admit to yourself how much you’d enjoyed that sensation and how much you longed for that sensation to return.

by  軒轅純 GCYW

art republished with artist’s permission  

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