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syluslnd · 5 months ago

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howdy, hope you’re well!! love your work and saw reqs were open…

if you haven’t done this yet, how abt sylus finding out reader/MC has voice + praise kinks ?

sylus finding out that you have a voice and praise kink

it had been a normal day-or at least, you thought it had been. You were sitting on the couch in Sylus's room, idly flipping through a book while Sylus worked nearby, his presence filling the space with that quiet intensity he always carried. His deep, calm voice had been drifting in and out of your mind as he spoke to someone on his comm device earlier and you had tried-really tried—not to let it get to you.

But his voice always had this effect on you, sending a shiver down your spine every time he spoke in that low, commanding tone.

Worse still, was when he praised you, offering those casual compliments that left you struggling to breathe. His praise mixed with that voice-well, it did things to you.

Apparently, you hadn't hidden it as well as you thought.

Out of nowhere, Sylus's voice cut through the silence, bringing your thoughts to a halt.

"You've been staring at me, sweetie" he said, his tone laced with amusement, though his back was still to you. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Your heart leaped into your throat and you quickly turned your gaze back to your book, trying to act casual. "I-I wasn't staring” you stammered, though your face was already heating up.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending another wave of heat through you. He turned slowly, giving you that sharp, knowing look that always made you feel like he could see right through you. "Lying doesn't suit you, kitten" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he moved toward you.

You felt the air shift, the atmosphere growing heavier as he approached. Before you could say anything else, Sylus knelt in front of you, his eyes dark and curious. He reached out, gently tilting your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You're blushing” he observed, his lips curling into a smirk. "Now, why's that?"

Your throat went dry as you searched for an excuse, anything to throw him off. But Sylus's intense gaze held you in place, making it impossible to form a coherent thought. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper. "I've noticed something, kitten. You react to my voice." His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch soft but deliberate. "Is that what's been on your mind?"

Your breath caught and you felt your pulse quicken. You opened your mouth to deny it but nothing came out. Sylus's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he continued. "Or is it the way I praise you? You like it when I tell you how good you are for me, don't you?"

Your heart pounded and you couldn't help the way your body tensed at his words. His voice had taken on that teasing, dangerous edge that always left you flustered and overwhelmed. He knew. He definitely knew.

Sylus chuckled darkly, leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered “Is this what gets you off, sweetie? My voice? My praise?" His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the tension building inside you as his words sunk in.

You couldn't respond, too caught up in the way his voice wrapped around you like a command, like something you couldn't resist. He pulled back slightly, watching you closely, his fingers still resting under your chin. "I can feel it, you know" he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "You're trembling and all I did was talk. Imagine if I really tried."

Your cheeks burned and you squirmed under his gaze, unable to escape the intensity of his presence. Sylus's smirk never faltered and he shifted, leaning back on his heels, eyes still locked on you. "Go on, kitten” he said softly, his voice silky smooth.

"Tell me the truth. You like this, don't you? You want me to keep talking, keep praising you."

His words sent a jolt through you and you couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. Sylus's smirk widened at the sound, his eyes darkening with satisfaction.

"That's what I thought" he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He shifted closer again, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "Do you like hearing how good you are for me? How much I enjoy watching you fall apart under my voice?"

You nodded weakly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you struggled to keep yourself together. Sylus's fingers brushed your cheek again, trailing down to your neck, his touch light but electrifying. "Such a good kitten" he whispered, his voice deep and smooth. "Always so eager to please me."

The words sent a shockwave through your body and you couldn't stop the way you arched toward him, desperate for more.

Sylus grinned, clearly pleased with how easily you were unraveling under his teasing.

"I could keep going all night, sweetie" he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw.

"But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you like it."

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as you finally admitted, "I... I love it, Sylus. Your voice... your praise... it drives me crazy."

His eyes lit up with triumph, and he let out a low chuckle. "Good girl" he purred, his breath hot against your skin. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Sylus leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours as he smirked. "Let's see just how much you can take."

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you

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thequeenofcurses · 25 days ago

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Dancing in the Moonlight

Happy Birthday, Rafayel!

summary: you're undercover at a grand masquerade ball to retrieve a powerful protocore, only to cross paths with a certain fish man. but under the moonlit sky, amidst the crashing waves, duty blurs with desire as he finally confesses: he doesn’t want you to be just his bodyguard. mc x rafayel (smut!) wk: 3.5k

Captain Jenna's voice crackled through the comms over the loud music coming from the mansion. “We need that protocore, and if the rumors are true, an aether core is hidden somewhere in that mansion. Get in, find it, and get out. Keep a low profile.”

You adjust the sleek mask over your face, your black gown cascading in shimmering waves as you step into the grand ballroom. Your intricate gown reeks of power and status, the perfect attire for a mission full of elite guests. It took the captain and you twenty minutes just to get you in the dress.

The mansion is alive with grandeur, its towering marble columns and gilded walls reflecting the warm glow of chandeliers. A full orchestra plays a lively waltz, the music weaving through the chatter and laughter of masked guests swirling across the polished floor. The scent of expensive wine and polished marble is thick in the air. You force a smile, engaging in small talk with nobles and scholars of Linkon, your mind sharp despite the facade of indulgence.

Slipping away unnoticed is an art you have perfected. Down a dimly lit corridor, away from the revelry, you begin your search, scanning walls for hidden compartments, bookshelves for misplaced gaps — until a familiar voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You're not exactly blending in, Miss Bodyguard.”

You gasp, turning sharply. The first thing you notice is his porcelain white mask. The mask itself was a masterpiece of quiet opulence. It’s lined with small delicate snowy pearls, its contours like dewdrops on a spider’s web. The mask was held in place by a thin satin ribbon, disappearing into the tousled waves of his dark violet hair. It was a thing of beauty, understated yet captivating—like him. It curved seamlessly over his face, covering his eyes and the bridge of his nose, leaving only his lips and jaw exposed.

Rafayel leans against the doorframe, gently pulling his mask off. He raises an eyebrow, mask in hand, his sharp gaze flickering with amusement. His aura just radiates effortless elegance and that’s when you finally heed his attire.

He is dressed in a jacket, a gem of deep indigo, shimmered like the sky at dusk, embroidered with silver filigree that caught the light with every slow breath he took. The fabric looking impossibly smooth. Beneath it, a sheer white shirt lay like the whisper of moonlight against his skin, delicate stripes of lavender and silver running down its length, almost translucent under the glow of the chandeliers.

At his throat, a tie of the same celestial blue hung loosely, fastened by an intricate metal pin, like an insect frozen in time, its wings spread as if caught mid-flight. The tie’s ends cascaded down, barely touching the high waist of his black trousers, which clung to his frame with a precision only bespoke tailoring could achieve. Twin rows of golden buttons lined his hips.

There was an air of untouchable grace about him, like a figure painted in oil on one of his canvas’, too ethereal to be real. And yet, beneath the fine embroidery and silk, there was a pulse of something more. Power. Mystery.

The usual silly and unserious Rafayel had the aura of someone who demanded attention, even in a mansion filled with the most elite citizens of Linkon.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice low.

“Your location said you were in the ocean. I thought you were drowning, again,” he laughs. “Just kidding! I’m displaying my newest art pieces, as requested. And you?” His smirk deepens. “Let me guess, you're not just here for the wine and waltzes.”

You hesitate, but Rafayel is sharper than most. With a resigned sigh, you admit, “There’s a protocore here. Possibly an aether core. I need to find it.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Then you’re in luck. Some of my pieces here contain protocore fragments. I can help.”

You glance down at your watch. 19:25. “We only have until 20:30 ‘til extraction,” you remarked. “Lead the way.”

Together, you weave through the mansion, moving like shadows against the flickering candlelight. Rafayel walks with an easy confidence, nodding to familiar faces, drawing attention away from your deliberate movements.

The low hum of conversation from distant halls masks the sound of your quickened footsteps as you slip past the velvet ropes sectioning off the restricted areas.

You press against cold stone walls when passing guards patrol too close, heart pounding against your ribs.

“I think we’re close,” Rafayel reported as his device pings. “Let’s check this next room.”

Inside a lavishly decorated study, the protocore gleams beneath a glass case, its surface pulsating faintly with energy. You exchange a look with Rafayel, no words needed. While you work on the security panel, he keeps watch by the door, arms folded, looking every bit like the careless aristocrat who belongs here. The lock clicks open with a soft beep, and you carefully lift the core, feeling the thrumming power beneath your fingertips.

“This is it!” You whisper-shout. You pull up your hunter watch to send the confirmation to Captain Jenna. You turn to Rafayel to show him the glowing core. “Thank you, for your help– ”

Just as he was about to comment on it, an earsplitting alarm shatters the quiet.

The hallway is suddenly alive with motion. “Secure the package. Lock everything down!” Several different voices bark orders, and the glow of lanterns spills into the dim passageways.

“Time to go,” Rafayel says, already moving. With no time to think, Rafayel grabs your wrist and pulls you into a run. You slide the core into a hidden pocket in your dress amidst your hurried sprint. Your heels clack against the floor, breath coming fast as you both duck through an open terrace door. You run, your hurried footsteps lost beneath the distant crash of ocean waves, until you reach the secluded garden balcony overlooking the dark, rippling sea.

The night air is sharp against your heated skin as you race down the stone path, the scent of saltwater growing stronger. The ocean stretches wide and endless before you, moonlight reflecting off its dark surface in chalky ripples. Behind you, the distant echoes of pursuit grow fainter beneath the rhythmic crash of the waves.

“I think,” you pant, nearly out of breath. “I think we lost them.”

The party is still alive behind you, faint melodies of a waltz drifting through the cool night air. Still breathing heavily, you turn to Rafayel, his expression unreadable under the moonlight.

"We should go before they notice – "

“Dance with me.” His voice is soft but insistent, his hand already reaching for yours.

You blink, turning your head in confusion. “Now?”

“Now,” he confirms, pulling you close. “You should embrace the moonlight, and bask in the sun. That's when you'll truly be yourself.”

The tension that has simmered between you for too long finally reaches its breaking point. His touch is firm yet careful, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist as you sway in rhythm with the distant music. The moonlight paints silver streaks in his lavender hair, his gaze locked onto yours, dark and burning. The soft music drifts through the garden as you sway together.

You both move in sync with the faint music and the sound of the ocean waves underneath the balcony. His hand caresses your waist, and you move closer to him until there's barely any distance between you.

“I don’t think I want this to be just another one of your missions,” Rafayel murmurs, his lips dangerously close. “I don’t want you to just be my bodyguard.”

Your breath hitches. “Then what do you want me to be?”

His answer comes in the form of a kiss, slow at first, savoring, before deepening into something more desperate, more consuming. His hands tighten around you as he presses you against the stone railing, the cool night air clashing with the heat between you.

“Y/n,” he whispers, voice rough with need. It’s the complete opposite of the usual carefree Rafayel you’ve grown to love working for. When he gives you that look with his bluish-pink eyes, you know neither of you will be leaving that balcony anytime soon.

His lips touch yours again, and the world stops spinning.

The only things that exist are the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pressure of his tongue against yours, and the sweet scent of his artsy cologne. He tastes like the finest wine, his touch like silk as he pulls you closer.

As the music fades into the distant echo of a memory, his hand finds the small of your back, the other gently cupping the nape of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. He pulls back for a moment, a question in his cotton candy eyes. You answer with another kiss, and this time, he doesn't hold back.

He kisses you again and you let him. His touch is so light, like he's holding a rare, fragile flower in his hands. You run your hands over his smooth shoulders, pulling him closer until there's no space between you, feeling his breath catch in his throat as you pull back.

You tilt your head back to gaze into his eyes, his breathing labored as he pulls you back to him, kissing your neck and jaw, breathing in your scent as if you were a breath of fresh air.

You press a kiss to his lips, biting his lower one softly, eliciting a deep groan from him. Rafayel pushes you back until your back hits the stone railing, the metal railing cold against your skin. You run your fingers through his hair as his hand trails down your body to the slit of your dress.

“Rafayel,” you say softly.

He pauses, pulling back.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask softly.

“Very sure.”

He kisses you again, hard and needy, and you lose yourself in the kiss. You can feel his hands on the small of your back, pulling your body against his, and the heat of him is enough to make you want to melt into a puddle right then and there.

You pull back to catch your breath, but he kisses your neck. Your knees feel like jelly, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest as you try to find your bearings.

He kisses you again, and your knees almost give out. “Rafayel,” you breathe.

You can feel his hardness against you. You bite your lip as you pull him towards you by his shirt collar. You press yourself against him and he groans. His hands roam over your body as he kisses you again.

“I want you so bad, silly girl,” he whispers into your ear. He presses himself against you and you gasp.

“You have me, Rafayel” you murmur. “All of me.”

He pulls you to him, leading you to a nearby bench. You sit down and he pulls off his jacket then unbuttons his shirt, revealing his sculpted body. You let out a soft gasp and he chuckles.

He sits down next to you and takes your hand in his. “You're so beautiful.”

“So are you.” You reply with a smile.

“Oh, did you think I meant you? I was talking about myself, cutie,” he acknowledges in a joking tone.

You giggle, shaking your head and he kisses you again, slow and deep. He puts his hand on the small of your back and pulls you closer to him. He tastes sweet and you wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. His skin is soft and you feel yourself getting more turned on. He puts his hands on your waist and pulls you on top of him, kissing you passionately.

His hands start to roam, sliding up the slit of your dress and your breathing quickens. You start kissing his neck and he groans softly, his fingers brushing against your underwear.

Unfortunately, due to how intricate and tight the dress hugs your body, there's no way either of you could take it off before your 18:30 time limit. Damn.

You sit back up and Rafayel takes this opportunity to slide your dress open at the slit again, exposing your lacy underwear. His hands moving up your thighs, touching you through your panties. You throw your head back and let out a soft moan.

He kisses your neck and his hands slide over your hips, pulling you down. You move so you're straddling him, but facing forward. You lean back into his chest while he resumes his venture exploring your body. His hands continue to slide under your dress, pushing it open as much as he can without ripping the tight fabric.

You feel him growing hard underneath you and you teasingly grind in his lap. You finally sit up, only for him to slide down his trousers and boxers in one pull. You take his length into your hand, stroking it slowly. Judging by it's look and feel alone, he must be at least seven inches.

Rafayel closes his eyes, groaning as you gently massage him. His hands move to your hips, fingers brushing against your underwear. He slides your underwear aside and you feel the tip of his finger slide into you, pushing in slowly until it's completely buried.

“Nghn,” you softly gasp out.

He pulls you towards him, slowly moving his finger in and out of you. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as he continues to touch you, his breathing growing more ragged.

He curls his finger inside you, pressing against a soft spot and you moan again, your voice coming out as a gasp. You grind in his lap, feeling him grow harder. He moves his finger faster, touching that spot inside you again.

“Rafayel,” you murmur, grinding faster. You're overwhelmed by his touch. You start to breathe heavier, and you grip his arms, feeling your legs get weak. You feel a knot begin to form inside you. He pulls his finger out of you and you feel a sharp twinge of disappointment. But you don't have time to complain before he holds onto your hips, lifts you up and edges his hard cock into you.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasp. It's just his

He moves you slowly at first, but you want more. You move faster and he groans in your ear, moving you faster. You gasp as he goes deeper, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, gasping for air.

Rafayel's hands move to your breasts, massaging them through your dress. His cock feels incredible inside you, hitting the right spots every time you move. He continues to hold onto you, moving you faster. You feel that knot inside you starting to tighten up again, and you grip onto him, feeling your body starting to shake.

“God, Rafayel, don't stop,” you whine, gasping for breath. You feel his hands grab your hips and he holds you in place, grinding up into you slowly. The pleasure is almost too much to handle. Your whole body feels like it's on fire, and you cry out again while he begins to move faster and faster.

“I’ll make sure you won’t be able to forget this,” he whispers. “Even if you wanted to.”

The waves of the nearby ocean and the music coming from the mansion drown out the sounds of Rafayel's cock pounding into you from below. You feel your insides tightening more and more with every thrust, and your breathing comes out in short gasps.

“Rafayel!” you sob as your back arches, your head falling back onto his shoulder once more. You're drowning in pleasure, every part of you is screaming for him.

He continues to thrust into you, hitting that sweet spot inside you again and again and again. Your voice comes out as a broken gasp and you can barely form words. He grabs your hips, holding you in place.

You squeeze him tight as you cum, the pleasure consuming you. He groans as he continues to thrust, feeling your walls squeeze around his cock. The waves of pleasure make you shake and you involuntarily scream out his name over and over again. You have to cover your mouth before mansion security possibly hears you.

You come down from your high, only to feel that knot start to tighten up again. You let out a moan as Rafayel continues to move faster, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You're going to cum again, and you can tell by the way he's moaning in your ear that he's close too.

“Cutie, come again,” he murmurs. “I want you to come with me.”

He snakes one of his arms around you and rubs your clit, pressing down on that sensitive nub of yours while he fucks up into you. It doesn't take him long before you're melting like a puddle in his arms, your pussy squelching with your wetness.

“Rafayel, I'm going to -- nghn,” you wail one last time as you feel the inside of you explode. Your legs begin to give out, and Rafayel holds you close, letting you ride out your orgasm.

“I possess a life force that is everlasting, so my blood will forever flow, just like the unending sea, cutie.”

“What–" before you could process what the fish man said, his hips jerk and he groans, cumming deep inside you. His tip makes out with your cervix and his "magical life force" overflows your womb. You muffle your moan, squeezing around his cock. He grinds into you as his orgasm subsides, but you still feel him throbbing inside you.

“Wow, you could very well be my soulmate,” he mutters quietly. You're still breathing too hard to hear him over your own noises.

You let out a soft whimper and he gently lifts you up off his cock. It was quite the feat considering he was still fully hard. You're still so sensitive, and the sudden lack of stimulation makes you squirm. He places you down on the bench and pulls up his pants. Then, he sits next to you and takes your hand in his. You still have some time before extraction, but you feel completely worn out, and you know Rafayel isn't any different.

“So, how was it?” he asks, his eyes soft.

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It was amazing. I think I just experienced the most intense orgasm of my life.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, squeezing your hand. “I'm talking about your mission, silly girl. But I am glad I was able to satisfy you, cutie. Although,” he teases, his lips touching your ear, “if you want to experience that again, I'd be happy to oblige.”

You roll your eyes with a smile and you can feel the warmth of his body as he hugs you close. You sigh contentedly as you bask in the moonlight with the artist who is no longer your boss.

You let out a small yawn. “I think my legs have turned to jelly,” you mutter.

Rafayel brings his hand forward, igniting a small flame on his fingertips. He guides the heat to your legs and slowly rubs them up and down your thighs. Within moments, everywhere his flame touched, you felt instant relief.

“How's that cutie?” he asks.

“That feels amazing,” you murmur. “Can you keep doing that?”

He kisses your cheek and resumes the gentle massage. The world seems to slow down until all you hear is the faint music from the ballroom and the waves crashing below the balcony. Your eyelids grow heavy as you focus on the warmth of his hand against your skin.

You glance down at your hunter's watch checking the time. 20:20. Rafayel's eyes lock with yours in understanding. He stands, retrieving his jacket, then turns to give you a hand. “You've got time for one more song?”

The question was rhetorical, yet you answered it anyway. “Of course.”

You take his hand and turn into him as he sways you to the music. You feel completely at peace, swaying to the music like the tide ebbing and flowing on the ocean shores. Rafayel leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a deep and slow kiss. The warm glow of the moonlight and the gentle notes of the violins make your heart sing. You've never felt this way before, and you feel like you never want this feeling to end.

a/n this might be a shocker since it's my first ever lads fic, but I don't even like rafayel. sorry! 😭 but ngl, writing this fic, just might turn me into a rafa girly. hope you rafayel fans out there enjoy this. happy birthday to our fishy man <3

<- masterlist | lads masterlist ->

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ejsuperstar · 3 months ago

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Minecraft skin comm for Wolf Obsessor!

#digital art #minecraft skin #minecraft skin commission #minecraft #why have all my mc skin comms been furries /lh

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hunterbunter3000 · 2 years ago

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I love the first meeting between Kruger and Sweetheart. How about the first meeting between Sweetheart and Alejandro and Rudy 👀

I'm so glad you liked it! ♡ this one is a bit longer I think than the last one

Warnings: blood, violence, gore, details of weapons, very tiny cod gun lore in there (if you notice it, I love you)

When Alejandro and Rodolfo met Sweetheart, they didn't think she would look like that. They thought that a person with the name 'Sweetheart' would be a medic, or maybe an assistant. Not a strikingly tall woman who looks like she can stomp your head in and go shopping for new shoes at the same time.

'It's nice to finally meet you both' she said to them, her regal like voice ringing in Rudy's ears. He had to stop himself from trembling. Alejandro grinned at her, telling her the same. 'It's nice to meet you as well, ma'am. I've heard alot about you.'

Of course he has. Her capitan and sergeant squawked non-stop about her when they met up with Los Vaqueros for the mission. She's well liked around her unit.

She's kind.

She's funny.

Thoughtful.

Playful.

Beautiful.

All good words complimented the woman with great expectations. The expectations were met tenfold to Alejandro.

You're staring too long at her. Snap out of it.

He walked Ghost, Soap and Sweetheart to the car they were taking for the travel, opening the door for Sweetheart. She chuckled at that. 'Such a gentleman.' She said. Alejandro's chest bursts with pride. 'Have to make a good first impression, estimado.' He says with such a flirty undertone, the other three men frown at him.

Don't step out of line, Alejandro. The outcome won't be good.

Her team followed suit in other cars. Rudy was the driver, fingers flexing on the steering wheel out of nerves. He wanted to pull over. He felt too lightheaded from her sweet scent swirling in the cramped car. Wanting to caress her arms while resting on her bosom, melting into her warm touch as they lay next to a fire. His fantasy took over his reality for too long as they already made it to their destination. Rudy breathes out when he gets out the car. He feels warm hand on his shoulder.

Sweetheart.

"You okay?" She asks, concern written on her face. Her beautiful, pretty face. And pretty lips.

He clears his throat. "I'm alright, flor-- I mean- ma'am! I- I meant ma'am." His cheeks flush with embarrassment as she giggles.

Such a pretty smile.

Alejandro was listening, unintentionally but there anyway.

Such a pretty laugh.

The day swirled into a blur, the soldiers already in the works of war. Bullets going off, bodies falling down, and Sweetheart carrying her weight. Alejandro and Rodolfo can't lie when they see Sweetheart actually fighting her way through the enemies like they were butter. Weilding a Remington 870 MCS breaching with 10" barrel, she goes ahead of them and blasts the heads off like balloons. She called it her 'fallen angel' when she was cleaning it at the base.

The blood splatters on her smooth skin, the sharp narrowing of her dark, focused eyes and her black curls now unraveled; she looks more like a warrior than a soldier. As she moves like a raging spirit in the wind, the bodies fall one by one in a mutilated mess.

"Mierda..." Rudy mumbles, hand covering his mouth. Her team seems to be used to this, staying behind and letting her do her thing with awestruck eyes.

She walks in their blood, mocking their loss as she stands over the terrified target.

"Target secured." She lowly says in the comms, picking up the stunned target by the collar like a wet cat. She walks by her team and other units, some stumbling back to get out of her way. Rudy and Alejandro part like the Red Sea, eyes glued on her figure. She's so much more, way much more than being kind and playful.

She's ruthless.

She's intimidating.

Skilled.

Scary.

Beautiful.

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