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Practice & Patience Part 2
[Explicit] AO3
Part 1
Silco x f!reader, soft Silco, Smut, virgin!reader, insecure reader, first time, cunnilingus, hand job, blow job, first time blow job, masturbation
Word count: 4k
You and Silco continue to explore a series of firsts.
You had just come for the very first time.
You had just gone through a few firsts actually. Each one more amazing than the last, all culminating in you coming on Silco's practiced fingers.
As you sit on the edge of Silco's bed, naked, you feel a little different. Like the provocative songs you would hear playing at The Last Drop—their bass line a thumping, pulsing beat as their lyrics spoke of ecstasy and hedonistic pleasure—made just a little more sense. You understand now why someone would want to chase that high, why they'd put themselves in a vulnerable position with another person.
You turn to the man that brought you to your euphoria, warmth still blushing your cheeks, and see him in a new light. While you had always seen Silco as an attractive man, now he was downright irresistible.
You bring your lips to his, smiling against him when you feel him jump a little at your touch, surprised by your sudden, eager display. But it doesn't take long for him to recover, his tongue pressing past the part of your lips to claim yours as his own.
Between kisses, you speak with shallow breaths.
“I want— mmm— I want to make you feel— as good as you made me feel.”
He hums, his chest rumbling into your back.
“Is that so?” he teases.
You nod enthusiastically as you turn your torso to better kiss him. His arms wrap around you, pulling you down onto the bed. You're more than willing to follow, allowing him to situate you over him, your pelvis pressing against his naked erection.
You shift above him to straddle him when his hands grip your hips, pausing your movements with an uncharacteristically unsure call of your name.
“Let's slow down,” he says, something unfamiliar lacing his words. Is it panic? “We don't need to do that right away.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. Your voice comes out as a whisper.
“Do you not want to?”
He props himself up on his elbows, chest heaving as he regains his breath.
“Of course I want to.” He sits up fully, bringing both his hands to cradle your face. You can smell yourself on one of them and you’re not quite sure if you like it or not. But then Silco's voice pulls your attention back to him. “But there are a lot of things we can do between what we just did and that.”
Oh.
You blink, suddenly feeling foolish.
“Of… of course,” you reply, trying to hide how dejected you feel.
“Hey,” he coos, dual-toned eyes swimming as they look back and forth between your two eyes. “I want you. I do. But I also want you to enjoy each first.”
He presses his lips to your forehead.
“There's no rush. We'll get there, I swear it.”
“You… do want me?”
He nods.
“You're not… grossed out by me?”
“What?” His face twists, almost insulted by your words. “Why would I be?”
Your hand wraps around Silco's wrist, pulling it away from your face. Your heart rate ticks up and it's not from arousal, but from nerves building back up again.
“You don't— But I—” you take a deep breath before continuing. “You're not turned off by… my smell down there?”
Silco blinks.
You take his stunned expression as confirmation.
“I'm sorry! I should've washed better! But I'm also pretty sure I shouldn't wash like that down there, but, I don't know, maybe I could've used perfume or something—”
Silco lets out a bark of laughter. It's an unfamiliar sound and its timing in your moment of panic sends a dagger to your chest. As he laughs, he says your name over and over.
“My dear, that's what you're worried about? The smell?”
“Yes!” indignation rising behind your ribs. Your afterglow is long gone, replaced with frigid regret.
“Smells happen during sex,” he offers. “And let me show you just how ‘turned off’ I am by yours.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him bring his hand—the one that had so thoroughly pleasured you—up to his face. He locks eyes with you, opens his mouth, and licks a line from his palm up to the tips of his middle and ring fingers. Your eyes widen at the display and he continues further, opening his mouth enough to push both fingers in. He wraps his lips around the digits and makes a show of sucking off every last bit of your juices from his fingers, releasing them with a pop.
You're both confused and a little aroused.
That is definitely a first.
“You, my dove…” He licks his lips. “Taste of nectar from the gods.”
You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder. “Stop it!”
“It's true,” he insists, bringing his lips to your ear, his breath hot on your skin as his nose presses to your temple. “Here.” He pulls back, bringing his clean hand up to cradle your face. “Taste for yourself.”
Your eyes narrow, then immediately widen when he crashes his lips into yours. You've no choice but to taste the lingering arousal that's left on his mouth, on his tongue.
That's what I taste like?
Neither good nor bad. A flavor you cannot pinpoint, one you've never tasted before.
As Silco presses his tongue into your mouth, heat pools in your belly. Something about you both giving and taking freely of your juices making you weak in the knees.
When finally Silco pulls away, he does so with a smirk.
“See?” He wipes the side of his lips with the pad of this thumb before kissing it clean. “You're delectable.”
Your walls clench around nothing.
“And if you'll allow me one day,” he purrs, his free arm wrapping around your waist. “I'd like to sample it from the source.”
Your eyes lock with his and watch as his dual-toned gaze wanders down your body, settling on your sex.
Heat rushes back into your cheeks. The mental image of Silco's face buried between your legs sends warmth to your core, equal parts embarrassment and curiosity.
Your throat bobs. Silco's eyes lift at the sound, studying your face.
“To…” You take in a deep inhale, letting it out as a shaky exhale. “Today could be that day.”
Scarred lips, slightly parted, twitch upward. Then—
A sweet sting of pain as Silco's hands dig into your waist—half pulling, half pushing—as he twists, reorienting your world in the blink of an eye until you find yourself on your back, staring up at his ceiling, a gasp pushed out your throat at the sudden change.
Silco's on top of you.
Silco is naked on top of you.
And you're naked underneath him.
Your nipples harden at the realization.
Toned forearms cage in your head as his hands grip the sheets on either side of you. He looks down at you with a predatory hunger. And as he lowers himself onto you, bringing his mouth to kiss and suck the tender skin of your neck, you melt into his touch, content to be devoured as his prey.
He uses every bit of his mouth as he trails it against your form: his tongue lapping at the beads of sweat on your skin, his lips sucking bruises to blossom all over you, his teeth dragging against you, sending chills up your spine.
He works his way down your neck, across your collarbone, settling on your breast to once again wrap his lips around your hardened bud. You quiver under his ministrations, powerless.
You watch as he slowly lowers himself further, his nose now pressing into your navel. Lips parted, your breaths come out shallow as your heart hammers behind your ribs.
Lower and lower he goes, his hands smoothing down your thighs as he does. Then, long fingers hook under your knees and yank, pulling your ass to the edge of the bed.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as Silco sink down to his knees, his face level with your glistening core. His hands are warm as they rest on either of your knees and you part them further, waiting with bated breath.
Ocean green and volcanic orange eyes lock with yours.
His voice is low, a purring Chemtank engine. His breath is hot against your skin and your walls clench at the sensation.
“You won't regret this.” He licks his lips. “I promise.”
His tongue, hot and flat, glides through your folds, making your hips buck into his face, your hands clenching the sheets on either side of you.
“Fuck!” You cry out at the sensation, somehow even better than his fingers.
You feel his hands on your legs, draping your knees over his shoulders as he swipes his tongue against your core again, sending another wave of pleasure to course through your veins.
He continues to lap at you, his enjoyment evident by the way he hums in delight against your folds, as if he's enjoying a 5-star meal. Then—
His lips purse, wrap around your clit, and suck.
“Ah!”
One hand flies up to tangle your fingers into his hair, your hips chasing his mouth, silently begging for more.
And he is more than happy to oblige.
Unconsciously, you start to grind yourself against him, rocking your hips with every movement of his tongue, every suck of his lips. You're certain you'll burst into a thousand pieces with the way your blood burns under your skin, a fire raging within you.
A familiar sensation as you feel your pleasure building, rising to unsustainable heights. Your legs shake and you feel tingling in the soles of your feet, your toes clenched as Silco laps at you like a man starved. Higher and higher, your arousal builds until—
Silco presses two fingers into you.
And you immediately break.
A long, wanton wail of his name rushes past your lips as your clit throbs in his mouth, your walls pulsing around his practiced fingers. He pumps his digits into you, guiding you through your release that seems to go on for forever, coursing through your veins, lighting every synapse to send wild flashes of color behind your eyes.
Chest heaving, you pant through your climax, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness and release. If your first orgasm was a thunderstorm, this one is a tsunami, bowling over everything you've ever known, wiping clean your previous definitions of “pleasure.” It's torrential and relentless, leaving nothing in its wake but utter destruction.
How can you ever go back?
You're forever changed.
The timeline of your life is fractured in two, a divide separating the whole of your human experience into two separate segments: before this moment and everything after.
When finally your climax calms, Silco's movements stilling and your hips returning back down to the bed, you're acutely aware of the thunderous beating of your heart. It pounds behind the cage of your ribs, struggling to keep up.
Your hands come up to shield your face, reddened from arousal and exhaustion.
And you laugh.
A small giggle at first, but then it morphs into an earnest laugh, pulling your lips up into a wide smile and shaking your shoulders with each exhale. You're barely aware of Silco wiping his mouth clean and crawling back on top of you, watching.
When you open your eyes to see him looking down at you with a curious expression, you laugh even harder.
His lips curl into a smile, slightly unsure as he's not in on the joke. His hands wrap around your wrists, beckoning you to pull them away, to show him your face.
“What's so funny?” He hums.
“I waited—” you laugh almost derisively. Not at Silco, but at yourself. “So long to do any of this.”
Silco's face softens as he listens.
“And…”
You're at a loss for words.
Perhaps this is what it means to be fuckdrunk.
You look up at your lover, mouth moving but no sounds coming out as years of frustration, longing, and anxiety come to a sudden end.
“Why?” You whisper. “Why did I wait so long?”
His eyebrows curl inwards at that. Bending down, he cradles your face in his hands, holding you steady to stare up at him.
“You did what was best for you. You did it in your own time.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, mismatched eyes tracing over your face.
“You didn't buckle to any external pressures or settle for something that you would come to regret.”
He smiles down softly at you and you return it, warmth in your chest.
“And I find that admirable.”
Your heart skips a beat at the declaration.
“You do?”
He nods, his thumb a steady rhythm on your cheek as he swipes it back and forth.
“You amaze me.”
You feel so overcome, a mix of the heady orgasm you’re still recovering from and Silco’s tender, wonderful words. A familiar sting forms behind your eyes and you reach out for him, hands cradling his jaw as you bring your lips to his, your eyes squeezed tight. He hums into the kiss, bringing one hand to the back of your head.
He’s been so good to you. So patient. So gentle. You want nothing more than to show your gratitude, your appreciation.
As he deepens the kiss, you bring your hands down to his shoulders before trailing them down to feel his chest. At the delicate touch of your fingertips, you feel his muscles tense and relax. Lips locked and eyes shut, you paint yourself a picture of Silco’s body using your hands, exploring every inch of scarred skin, nails dragging along his sternum, palm splaying against his abs. There’s a small tickle against your hand as you feel the trail of hair that leads from his belly button down to his shaft and you follow the trail down with purpose, dominant hand reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.
He breaks off the kiss at your touch, his mouth hanging open as you squeeze.
“Not too hard, darling,” he gasps, one hand quick to find yours.
“But— but don’t guys like it when it’s… tight?”
He chuckles, his good eye opening to look at you.
“Yes, but…” His hand wraps around yours, guiding you. “Here, like this.”
His fingers squeezing around your hand, he tugs upward, gliding your hand up to his reddened head before slowly smoothing it down again. It’s a steady rhythm with not too much pressure, focusing on his sensitive tip. After a few more strokes, he releases his grasp on your hand, bringing it back up to clench the sheets by your head. His good eye flutters closed as he savors your touch, his chest rising and falling with each heady breath.
“Yes, just like that…” he whispers. He lets out a particularly deep exhale and you can feel the full body shiver as it courses through him. “Oh, it’s been so long,” he sighs.
You continue to work him, eyes searching his face for approval.
“You… like that?” You ask meekly.
His good eye opens, but it’s half-lidded, heavy with want. “Very much so,” he all but growls.
That sends a sweet thrill up your spine and warmth to the apex of your legs. You watch with parted lips in awe, taking in Silco’s expression. It’s one you’ve never seen before. A level of relaxation, of pleasure, you’ve never witnessed. You don’t dare blink, not wanting to miss a single second of such a precious moment.
But then, your wrist starts to cramp, the angle of your position awkward, the pace of your strokes slowing. Silco takes note and starts to lower himself, turning so he’s resting on his side next to you. Wordlessly, you follow, turning in tandem with him, holding his erection all the while. And soon, your positions are reversed with Silco on his back and you hovering above him. You adjust your grip on him, eyes wide as you get your first real up-close look at his cock.
“Enjoying the view?”
Your eyes flick up to see Silco smirking down at you.
“I…” Your words falter. “I just…I want to make you feel good—”
“You are—”
“But I don’t know if I can… handle all of you.”
“We don’t have to do that yet.” He lets out a soft groan when your hand squeezes just a little harder. “Just this is…” He never finishes his sentence, instead opting to hum out his approval.
You try to experiment with your strokes, hand gliding down his entire length and back up. He seems to enjoy it by the way his head falls back onto the bed, his good eye closed. Then, an idea pops into your head. You switch hands briefly before bringing your dominant hand up to your mouth, spitting into it. Then, you swap back, bringing your now wet palm to his length.
“Gods, yes,” he whispers to no one in particular, his hips chasing the movement of your hand. “You learn quickly.”
Blush rises to your cheeks at the praise and you suddenly feel the need to make him do it again. To sing your praises, to tell you how good you’re doing.
So you do the best thing you can think of.
Lowering yourself, you bring your lips to the head of his cock, planting a sweet kiss to it, your eyes all the while on Silco’s face. You see the moment his good eye flicks open, his eyebrows lifting to his hairline as he stares down at you. His mouth hangs open as he looks at you in equal parts awe and determination. There’s a fire behind both eyes; it laps at your skin, making you burn all over.
He lets out a soft chuckle, low and dark.
“Oh, darling.” He brings one hand up to softly run through your hair. “I cannot tell you how many times I have pictured you just like this.”
Your walls clench around nothing.
Eyes locked with his, you part your lips and wrap them around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt as you swipe your tongue along him. When his hips buck at the sensation, you do it again. Slowly but surely, you learn how to listen and to look for his nonverbal signs of approval. The way he holds back a moan, the way he squeezes his good eye shut. Hand still wrapped around his base, you hollow your cheeks and do an experimental suck. The groan that forces its way out of Silco’s throat is enough to tell you to keep going.
Then, remembering the movement of Silco’s hand as he was guiding you before, you try to bob your head, just enough to rub against his sensitive tip. His fingers dig into your hair and you whimper, the slight sting of pain in your scalp sending lightning to your core.
You continue to work him, mindful of your teeth, but you can feel an ache growing in your jaw. You try to power through, determined to make him come the same way he had made you. But your wrist is getting tired and you feel like you’re reaching your limit. Without realizing it, your pace slows again. Finally, you give up, pulling your mouth off him as you shake your head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m not good at this.”
Silco takes a few seconds to recover, his good eye still shut. “You were doing wonderful—”
“But I can’t make you come.”
“It’s okay; it just takes practice, darling.”
He props himself up on his elbows to look at you.
Your heart sinks, feeling like a failure. Like you're keeping him from experiencing something that should come so naturally. Like you're holding him back from a better partner who knows what they're doing.
You're pulled from your thoughts when you feel his hand cup your chin, willing you to look at him.
“Remember what I said? I want you and I want you as you are. That includes this. You're perfect as you are.”
You shake your head, unwilling to accept that.
“I'm not. I can't even make you—”
“Shhhh…” he gently places the pad of his forefinger against your lips. “Don't give up just yet.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“There are still ways you can help me.”
You feel movement below you and look down to see Silco reaching for his cock. You release your hold on it as he takes it, stroking himself. The sight of it has your eyes widening, unable to look away from it. Slowly, you lift your eyes, scanning his body as he continues to pump his fist. The small trail of hair at his navel with peeks of gray, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach twitches at a particularly good stroke. Your eyes continue their journey upward to find his lips slightly parted, tendrils of his hair matted to his forehead.
How is he so…
Your eyes lock with his.
So beautiful and so hot at the same time?
“Kiss me,” he says, fire burning in his gaze.
And you obey.
Leaning down, you bring your lips to his, your tongue quick to explore the inside of his mouth. He hums into the kiss, his free hand finding a place to settle at the base of your head, fingertips tangling into your hair. Your hands find his shoulders, digging into him with your nails, pulling a purr of a hum from his throat.
You wonder what other sounds you can get out of him.
Hands trail down his chest, forefinger and thumb wrapping around a nipple and squeezing. His hips jump and his mouth falls open at the touch, followed quickly by a soft growl.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice rumbling like a Chemtank engine.
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.
“I liked it; I thought you might, too.”
The hand at your neck slides down your front and he answers with a pinch of his own to your hardened bud. You gasp out, giggling.
“Can’t say anyone’s ever tried it till now,” he muses, the pace of his strokes getting a little faster. “Do it again,” he growls.
“I’ll do you one better.”
You lean forward, trailing a line of kisses from his neck down to his chest. He hums at the touch and, without looking, you can tell that he’s pushed his head back into the bed, his good eye fluttering closed. You wrap your front teeth around his nipple and bite down gently, quickly rewarded with another twitch of his hips.
The hand at his cock is going impossibly fast now, his chest heaving as his breaths leave him in quick, short puffs, his hips rocking all the while.
You could be wrong—given you’ve never done this before—but you’re pretty sure he’s getting close to his orgasm.
Biting down on your bottom lip, you try to think of something to send him over the edge. A lightbulb goes off in your mind and you bring your lips up to his ear, teeth a quick nibble at his lobe. You’re met with a satisfying low groan and Silco’s rumbling words.
“Oh, she’s so eager to please, isn’t she?”
“Just for you,” you whisper, finding confidence in yourself you’ve never had before. “Only for you, Silco.”
At that, he lets out a low moan. You straighten up just in time to see the reddened head of his cock shoot ropes of his cum onto his stomach, his fist continuing to pump as he rides out his high. Unblinking, you watch Silco come undone underneath you, eyes drinking in every last bit of his pleasure. You feel a strange sense of pride bubble up within you, as well as a deep, deep urge to see it all over again.
As he starts to catch his breath, you swing your leg around and off him, eyes casting to the bathroom door for a towel. Just as you’re about to jump off the bed, Silco’s hand wraps around your wrist.
“Stay,” he says, voice broken as if from just waking up. “Stay with me.”
He brings an arm up in invitation and you nestle next to him, your pelvis pressed to his hip as you rest your head on his chest. He pulls you closer before bringing his lips to the crown of your head and planting a tender, breathless kiss there. You lay together, listening to his heartbeat, first a thunderous drumming but soon a soothing rhythm.
Exhaustion overtakes you.
And you both fall asleep.
A/N: I find it hilarious that I couldn't put anything above the Read More because the first line mentions coming lolol Think reader's getting the hang of it hehe There's still plenty left for these two lovebirds to explore, so I'm sure at one point when the desire strikes, I will write another installment.
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