Omg!! Do you know how long i’ve been waiting for a chance to request Link x reader stuff hehdjdjdueugd can I request Link x fem! Reader where its before a relationship and so its head cannons of Link with a crush/pinning?
Botw - Link { Silent Crush }
◇ How did it even start? He wasn't even sure himself before it was too late, the first time when seeing how your hair shined under the moonlight and sweet smile along with a soft feminine nature yet being capable to fight if needed right by his side. Allowing his admiration to only further bloom.
◇ Link was the silent type who wouldn't out right ever annouce his feelings, but showing with helping you around with smaller tasks and a smile. The care showing but never outright said.
◇ In every room you both were in, his eyes wound find you, watching you with content and admiration. From you simply doing some small mindless tasks to full on quest.
◇ It would be a lie to say he didn't blush after every physical contact which he always tried to stay for even if just a moment longer, tips of his elf ears softening to a light pink and a jumping heart.
◇ Giving you small and quiet compliments would feel more intimate then most others, his voice was gentle like the wind and warm like a breeze in the summer. He's never seen you as weaker, an equal and if someone ever questioned it his brows would frown with a nasty glare making them silent.
◇ Sidon would help Link even figure it out, making some silly banter while watching his friend watching you with love in his baby blue eyes, getting a brotherly smack on the shoulder from the shark himself.
◇ Would make extra food for you to make sure you'd be eating enough and getting the rest you needed, often taking the first night watch and at times he'd simply watch you. Not in a creepy way but rather more in a 'How could I get this lucky, to even find someone like her?'
◇ Keeping you out of harm ways was his one and only priority, if he knew you'd get hurt simply because he wasn't able to save you it would haunt for longer then ever admitted. Often pushing you behind him with one hand and another already pulling out the sword with a stern expression.
◇ The first time seeing you dressed up with a flowey dress which suited your frame like a glove making him notice how much more he liked you, watching you in every state and now? Dressed up. He was more speechless then usually.
◇ It took months for the confidence to built up enough for him to confess with a small handful of flowers, and shock that you felt the same as he had never noticed how your eyes soften at him everytime as well.
°~°
A/n: Gurl where have you been?? Ive been waiting months for loz requests 🫶🏼 (P.s: I would also be open to do Sidon if anyone is interested)
it’s hard to find a husband as the butcher’s daughter.
the girls at your school smelled of flowers and goat soap. lithe, not muscled in their forearms for slicing and draining the blood from butchered cows. neither have they seen a chicken run without their head, a pig hung from the ceiling, the cries of a gentle hateno cow when its life is taken for its meat. their eyes are so trusting, even when light fades from their souls' windows.
you were young when you began shadowing your father.
"i got this broom custom-made for you, little one," papa said. "it's your special broom for helping me clean."
you know the witch charges a high price for those brooms. a mop of similar height leans on the wall next to it, likely made by your father.
"will i be cleaning the cow blood?" you asked.
the smile on your father's face flattened. "yes, darling. the chickens, too. now, come."
it started by just watching, the mop gripped tightly in your hands. chickens ran until they dropped. you dodged, their claws still sharp even in death as there was no time for their bodies to decay. your father's swing was strong.
"so they may have a quick ending," papa had said.
you nodded.
"i'm sorry, my darling," your father stoops to your height. "but i have to start you early, or it'll be too hard when you're older."
it was still hard. you no longer smelled of lavender and goat milk. the metallic tang of blood stuck to your skin. the girls were nice, but you saw how they snuck glances at you, hands cupped to their curved red lips. every night, you scrubbed and scrubbed, but blood stuck to you, in smell and between the lines of your skin and under your nails.
it got harder when you got older.
the girls in your village were getting married off. squeals of handmade rings, silver shoved into your face with declarations of it being custom-made by that famous blacksmith. you don't know him? well, you would soon. one of the girls had even handed you a bar of soap.
"it's so deep-cleaning, made by mother." the bar of soap suddenly weighed like a brick. "free trial. she said you should give it a try."
some of their bellies began to swell. the idea of pregnancy made you queasy, tales of morning sickness and swollen feet and tearing during birth were too scary, but there was an empty spot just beneath your sternum. an ache. sometimes, your hand twitched.
you wondered why, until you were looking out the window, and it twitched as a couple walked by. then it twitched again when you saw an older couple, then a newly-wedded wife and husband, then again at a couple bickering by the fruitstand. your hand needed to be held, but there was nothing warm to hold other than the freshly butchered body of a mother pig.
the shop's bell shocks you.
“you are the backbone to people’s survival.”
you drop the cut of hateno cow into its wrapping. it slaps when it make its landing, blood pooling where it sits. "but the king still insists he is watchful of my father. we're the first to be blamed if there's a breakout."
he won't leave you alone, this annoying boy.
"that's true." he rubs his neck awkwardly. good. the more awkward you make him feel, the quicker he'll leave. "oh, could i also get a flank of hateno beef?"
you look up from the wrapping. the boy always had a bow and sword strapped to his back.
"can't you hunt this all yourself?"
the boy shrugs sheepishly, a shy smile stretching his lips. "it's easier to buy sometimes. all that clean up and preparation."
"sometimes," he begins with a upward swing of his voice, "i'm just really hungry and need food now."
you almost smile. it's easier to breathe.
"who are you again?" you reach through the counter, grasping the hateno beef.
"just a bard, my lady."
"really? you're not very good with words."
"no, probably clumsy," he admits with a laugh, "but i'm good with the flute! and ocarina."
you frown. the royal family made the ocarina famous. "that is an important instrument."
"aye." he smiles. then, his eyes switch. the silly boy almost looks calculated. "would you like to hear it?"
something sweeps over you. something grey. something with a heavy grip that holds your free will hostage. your hand twitches. "i'm at work."
"then another time." his voice is gentle. bards are supposed to be emotionally in-tune; feel his crowd, match his story with their feelings. are you just a crowd to him?
"what is your name, bard?" you slide his meats towards him.
he stands a little taller, but he's not so tall. "link, my lady."
Imagine going to a cosplay con with your f/o and everyone is so jealous that you're dating such an attractive person but little do they know it's THE character and not just a cosplay. Also you get to run around in cute little outfits with your f/o like WHATT!!!
contains: yandere link (botw/totk) x reader, nothing too explicit, but still 18+, ise-kaid reader but it kinda just starts when you’re already in hyrule, link is slowly becoming more irrational
part one
part two
part three ⇦ ｙｏｕ ａｒｅ ｈｅｒｅ
part four
part five
word count: ~1300
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“There’s an inn about a four hour walk away - we’ll spend the night there… there’s lots of wild horses nearby,” he says. He’s still more focused on getting his breathing under control. You… you’re safe. And you agreed to not just walk away again, on a whim. Internally, he’s beaming with happiness. You promised him, even! You have to like him, even love him. You’re so, so… understanding.
“I will catch us a horse and tame it, then buy the proper equipment so that we can both ride on it. It’ll make our travels safer and more efficient.” he says in what he hopes sounds like a stable tone.
Inside, he’s anything but feeling stable… he wants to jump around and kiss all over your face. A horse! He’s getting you and him a horse.
You will sit behind him, close behind him, pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, like he’s your only lifeline. He should be. He wants you to name the horse, he decides.
This is just like his fantasy… maybe you can keep the horse until he builds you a home… and he’ll build a proper stable for the horse, and a big outside area for it.
He imagines you standing next to a big, imposing, yet gentle horse, brushing its mane and tail, and delicately braiding it… perhaps you’d braid flowers into it…
The idea of flowers braided into the horses’ tail and mane makes him think of a wedding. Your wedding… you, marrying him… Him picking you up and placing you onto the horse and riding into the sunset with you as his spouse. Where would you spend your honeymoon?
“A horse? You can just… catch a wild one?” you sound intrigued. You’re interested in his abilities! He has to catch a horse that you’ll like. He nods.
“Yes… they like to gallop around the plains near the inn that we’ll be staying in. I’ll catch one for us… Do you have any preferences when it comes to fur?”
You shake your head ‘no’. He smiles. “I hope you can come up with a good name for our horse.“
“Alright!” you respond. Goddess, he loves your enthusiasm. You’re always so nice to him, so appreciative - you make him feel complete. He feels like a devoted follower, blessed by the deity that you ought to be.
“We’ll follow a common path to the inn, alright?” he explains, hoping to reassure you. You’re his divine deity - the least he can do is keep you safe.
⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️
You’ve been walking for about two hours now - a little less than half of today’s trip. You’re glad that you’re rather used to walking places… one of the perks of living in the city.
Your companion doesn’t seem too interested in talking. You’ve tried to strike up a few conversations, but he’s just quickly answered whatever question you started it with with a short answer. Maybe he just doesn’t like to talk with you?
You know that you’re an outsider here - perhaps the only things he wants to discuss are simply not understood by you, and he doesn’t feel like explaining? At least he trusts you that you can come up with a name for the horse he’s planning on catching.
You wonder how that’ll go… What horse will he choose? You think about naming options. You think that naming it after a food could be cute - maybe Cookie, or Cheese, or something silly like that? Then again, maybe the silent hero walking next to you wouldn’t appreciate such silliness.
You try to think of other names that you know. You know of a few horses, owned by friends, back home - Spirit and Merlin are the only names you can remember. You’re not sure if they’ll work… What if the horse ends up having an entirely different character than something that a name like ‘Merlin‘ might suggest?
You end up deciding on choosing three names that might work, and then leaving it up to Link to decide on a final name. After all, he seems to have more experience with horses than you, perhaps?
“L-link?” you ask in a nervous voice.
“Yes?” he responds, in the same focused and get-to-the-point way that he’s used since you started walking. In general, you feel that he seems… different than before, ever since the foraging thing this morning.
“Uh, about the horse's name.”
“Yes?”
“So, I’ve come up with three different names. I thought that you could choose one of them.”
“Yes.”
He stares up at you, looking intently.
You try to gauge how he’ll react to your suggestions - you tried to use a silly name, a more intimidating name and a name that could also work for any other type of being.
You clear your throat a little. “I came up with Cheese, Lightning or Tauro.”
He looks happy enough with ‘Cheese’ and ‘Lightning’, but when you say Tauro, his eyes seem to narrow. If he hadn’t basically saved your life multiple times by now, it would’ve probably scared you pretty badly. It still makes you uncomfortable, however.
But with the blink of an eye, his expression is back to normal. Attentive blue eyes look up at you. He just looks and sounds curious now as he inquires, “What’s Tauro mean? Have you ever met someone with that name?”
“Oh, I just thought it sounded kinda cool-“ you start.
Link interrupts you, however: “So you’ve never met anyone before who has that name?”
“Uh, no?,” you answer, confused, “Should I have?”
“Goddess, no!” He sounds like he was just burned. He clears his throat. “I mean… it’s an okay name, but…”
You swallow and hum. “W-we don’t have to name it Tauro.”
As you say the name again, a look of pain and anger temporarily creeps onto Link’s face. He quickly smiles again however, and you wonder if you just didn’t see his face properly. He basically saved you, you doubt that he would ever hurt you. You feel a little guilty for even assuming that.
“I like ‘Lightning‘.“ Link informs you, and you feel relieved that the Tauro “discussion“ is over.
You nod. “Our horse will be named ‘Lightning‘, then.“ you say and smile at him, hoping that he isn‘t still secretly mad at you.
⚔️⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ⋆ ❁ ⋆ ⋆ ✩°｡⋆ ⚔️
Our horse! You said our horse. As in, owned by both of you. Together!
If Link hadn‘t been practising how to regulate his facial expressions since he was ten, he‘d be smiling from ear to ear. The warm feeling in his chest is growing stronger.
The Tauro thing still nags at him a little, but he is certain that you don‘t know just why that name caused him such upset. Surely you don‘t know Tauro. It‘s a common enough name.
Link‘s throat goes dry at the thought of you knowing him. He‘ll have to make sure that he never introduces you two.
Link‘s throat resembles the Gerudo dessert during noon as he imagines your voice, friendly and all - “Tauro! That‘s a great name! I almost named my horse that.“
Goddess, that can‘t happen. Tauro would be horrible for you. You deserve someone who actually knows you, actually cares!
That idiot could never give you what you want. But you‘re still so naive when it comes to his world. Link decides that he has to keep you both apart, at any cost.
Actually, it‘s probably best if he keeps you separate from most people your age. You‘ve only known him since you arrived here, through whatever cosmic means. That‘s a sign! A sign from Hylia. If the Goddess can choose him as the hero of the wilds, then she can choose his partner.
And you‘re very lucky that you met him first. He‘s protected you since he first found you, cold and alone in the Hebra mountains.
Dogma (HolyKnight!Link x Priestess!Reader) Temple!AU SMUT
(a/n) my first bullet point fic!! honestly i wasn't sure if i should stick to the usual fic format or try this out, but i decided to try something new. if you want to see a more fleshed out story, just lmk! and i'm sorry if it's a bittt rougher than usual. i haven't written anything in months so LOL
cw: afab!curvy!reader, link is just a MASSIVE horn dog, corruption kink, m!masturbating, mentioned penetration, mentioned fingering, mentioned oral, very sacrilegious acts lol, also this was written in like an hour so beware askjdlkfd, 18+ mdni
wc: 954
♤♢ ~~ ♡♧
hailing from a renowned lineage of knights, it was only expected that Link would be carted off to serve as one in the service of the Goddess the moment he was old enough to hold a sword
several grueling years of intense physical training, coupled with long days spent discussing everything from defense strategies, history, mathematics, and the tenets of the temple, tempered his mind and spirit to be balanced, disciplined, and pure
all of his efforts culminated on the steps of the temple one sunny afternoon at his knighting ceremony
he swore an oath to serve Her Divinity with truth, justice, and loyalty. to protect the defenseless, bless the less fortunate, and harbor those in need of refuge
you arrived in the weeks shortly after he swore his oath, and right off the bat bro's self-control and all of the purity dogma pounded into his head was PUT TO THE TEST
a mere priestess-in-training, you were placed under a more knowledgeable sister to learn how to best serve your Goddess
the garments used for practitioners-in-training were shorter than the robes reserved for those whose hearts thrummed with purity and spirits proved unyielding to the faith
watching you walk into the temple for the first time, the golden hem hugging your mid-thighs and gilded bangles tinkling from your wrists and ankles, made him choke on his spit
a nudge here and a whisper there was all it took to learn your name and the reason for your special appointment
typically, priestesses were offered to the temple from a young age to begin their training
a miracle, prophesied through dreams that could only have stemmed from the Divine, had saved your little hamlet in the corner of the kingdom
once word had spread to the ears of the temple, an individual with such a strong connection to Her Divinity was practically impossible to ignore
and so, under the direction of High Priest Rhoam, you were transported from your humble hometown to the slot right across the room from him
both clergy and knights gathered in the temple for evening assembly
a holy time to strengthen your bonds with the Goddess, offering heartfelt prayers and renewing oaths of devotion to the Divine and those She protects
but by the gods, if this wasn't the most sacrilegious evening of the hylian's LIFE
you were undoubtedly beautiful, the silky white robes doing little to hide your soft, supple hips, or the little pudge that muffined the lace garter worn by the temple's priestesses
doe eyes flitted between the wall and floor, clearly unused to the new environment you were dropped into
shaky fingers fidgeted with the golden lace that trimmed your robe, lightly jingling the metal bands that cuffed your wrists
he centered his breathing and focused his thoughts on Her Grace, but witnessing your thighs clench and shiver from an ill-timed draft crippled his quickly compromising defenses
it was wrong, he knew it was wrong
but on the rare nights when it was just him in the usually stuffy barracks, Hylia forgive him
the way he moaned your name with heated fervor, confessing all the wrongs he wanted to commit with your body
how he fantasized rolling your clit, puffed with need, in between his calloused fingertips. watching your heaven-bound eyes roll into the back of your head as you chanted his name like a prayer
sinking his hands into your pudge and watching the fair skin purple and blot with sin
burying his nose in your folds like it was his personal holy text, worshipping the ambrosia you would so willingly grace your loyal devotee
Hylia, he was filthy
decrepit
twisted for wanting to tarnish one of Her Divinity's daughters
but it just felt so good, so devilishly delicious imagining your plush walls choke his cock
how he'd hold your gaze as he slowly bottomed out
the whimpers and pleas he'd swallow with a kiss as he rolled his full length into you once, twice, thrice
he imagined how luxurious you would feel while he kneaded your softness, the shadows that would dance across your body as the moon peeked at utter depravity from his window
he had to stop
he must stop
how dare he lust after you? how dare he disrespect you with such abhorrent desires?
oh, but how sweet would you taste once he's had you coming once, twice, thrice?
what sort of masterpiece would you paint on his sheets once he got you squirting and shaking?
could you please, pretty please crush his skull with those chubby thighs of yours as he got his fill of you?
if only he could drown in you, be baptized in your essence and purified from the inside out
if only he could slip a finger or two in your puckering hole and pump at a beat resembling his heart
how his fingers ached to feel your wetness caving around him
how he'd worship and coo at your blissed out expressions, fucked too stupid to form a single thought
how long could you last with such sinful ministrations being performed on you?
how many rounds would it take before your sobs and his moans deafened the Goddess's voice?
Hylia, give him strength
Hylia, grant him forgiveness
Most Divine, do not eschew mercy from this wretched's soul
but gods, he needed you
he needed you
he needed you writhing under him, breathless and whining
he needed you mounted on his face, fucking his mouth until you both saw stars
he needed you leaned over the altar, whispering vows of devotion not to the goddess you both swore to serve, but to each other
a promise to love and cherish, sealed by the most blasphemous acts
Reader can’t sleep | Link x fem!reader. Sfw. Pure fluff and comfort. Wc: 985
If you didn’t come to bed by a certain hour, Link got angsty.
You didn’t know what to label this affliction. Some sort of mate separation anxiety? It was so cute, and in its own way flattering, that the only thing capable of spooking the Hero of Hyrule was a bed half-empty (and frogs).
And normally you would be in bed at an appropriate hour, in your typical position: Link spooning you from behind, his arm draped over your waist while his split ends tickling your arm reminded you to cut them the next time you got the chance.
But a random knot of nerves in your stomach kept you from bed. Instead, as dawn approached and dyed the horizon pink, you busied yourself with minute chores around the house; wiping the counters; swiping the ashes from underneath Hylia’s statue in the blessing room; contemplating engaging with a brand new cake recipe—that would inevitably settle you with more dishes to clean—
when Link turned the lamp on in the living room, providing illumination to your reverie.
“What are you doing?” he asked softly.
You shrugged. “Puttering.”
Link tilted his head with furrowed brows.
“I don’t want to have another nightmare,” You elaborated softly.
Realization dawned on Link’s face, but you didn’t see it; you went on in spite of him, having already preoccupied yourself with preparing a breakfast that could hardly be qualified for only two people—or considered breakfast (more like dawnfast). Steam from one pot tickled your nose as well as trafficking the scent of the strew into the air. Vegetables sizzled and jostled in a nearby skillet.
He understood. Link had more than his fair share of nightmares. There were nights where his dreams fixed into jumbled knots of past and present. An event a hundred years ago that still felt two days away. Malice and gloom stuck and filthied his clothes, burned his nose and made him sick.
He was better at hiding his startled nights than you—until recently when, only a few nights ago, Link had suffered a nightmare where Ganon struck his blade into your heart and you spat blood on his cheek. He had woken—tore himself from the nightmare almost from sheer will—and had subsequently woken you, and after he’d given you the brief details you had kissed him back to sleep.
He understood perfectly. But why wouldn’t you let him do the same to you?
He came to you and tugged on your sleeve. “C’mon.”
“What?” You murmured, but Link was already gently ushering you from the living room and toward the bedroom.
“I’m gonna help you sleep.”
“It’s not a big deal! I’m not even tired!” But the moment you met Link’s eye, you knew it was a lie; he knew it and so did you; your eyes drooped and a yawn was already rising in your throat, ready to escape any second. “A little lost sleep isn’t gonna kill me—”
“It’s not about that,” Link interjected. “Sleep’s important. I want you to be healthy.”
You tutted. At Link’s tapping on your shoulder, you bent your leg at the edge of the bed and climbed in. You suddenly saw yourself in third person—look at you, insisting on insomnia and fighting sleep like a colicky baby. Link was right even if you didn’t want him to be.
He stood at the bed’s edge as you laid on your side, one leg tucked into the sheet while the other remained atop the sheets. You sighed as you maneuvered the pillow around the curve of your neck.
“Happy?”
“Not yet.” Link came around and climbed into bed with you. Immediately, his arm roped around your mid-section, allowing him to pull closer and snuggle into your back. Now, thoroughly spooning you, he concluded with, “Now, I am.”
“Well, that’s what’s most important,” You said flatly. You could feel Link’s hand slip underneath your pillow and the sensation brought you an ineffable sense of security. “You know, I’m cooking, so I can’t just crawl back into bed and —”
“I’ll finish whatever you’re cooking once you’re alseep.”
“You’ll eat it all you mean.”
“I know you don’t want to have nightmares,” Link said, his chin now grazing the exposed cliff of your shoulder. “But like this, you won’t. I promise.”
You huffed at the sweetness and naivety of his conviction. “What makes you so sure?”
“You probably had a bad dream because we had our backs to each other and you felt all alone,” Link said. “I’m sure that’s it.”
You really were a baby. What, did you need to be swaddled too?
“That’s …” But you were running out of steam to oppose the love of your life on this—especially as he held you like this.
Link’s warmth was seeping through to you, making you relaxed—drowsy. Your eyelids dragged as you fought to keep your eyes open, focusing them on a candle up on a dresser that had long since lost its flame in the approaching dawn.
Link simply hushed you before leaving gentle kisses against your shoulder and neck. And it felt so long since he had held you like this—even if it had only been a few days, or hours … whatever the case, it had been too long …
Before you knew it, you were asleep. Link brushed his nose against the back of your head, your hair tickling its bridge. He gave a few more experimental kisses to your neck and shoulder to confirm you were, in fact, asleep and would not jolt awake at a second’s notice.
The smell of food wafted in the air. That food could be breakfast if he slipped away from you now to tend to it but, snuggled up against you, Link reserved to stay where he was. Just a few more minutes …
[ Solarpunk and Skyward Sword Crossover / SS!Link x Reader ]
After waking up on this strange, floating island, you realized you were alone. It didn’t bother you at first, maybe because you had no recollection of ever having company.
But then it started small. Speaking to yourself to fill the deafening silence, wishing for help with crafting, and making your cabin too big for one person. And then the fear set in.
You were alone.
There was no one here except you and that damn chicken.
You continued living on despite the longing for another. You built your cabin, though too big, and made yourself a farm of raspberries and cotton. You taught yourself how to sew and how to fish. You established a routine and… and life got pretty boring after that.
You noticed other sky islands in the distance and couldn’t help but wonder if maybe someone resided on them. Were they alone too? Did they wish for company?
…
You hoped they did.
————————————
Recourses seemed to never end. Sticks and stones would always appear on the ground overnight, even when you swore you already grabbed them. Trees were always growing and the iron deposit seemed to never run low.
Though, it seems that raspberries and cotton don’t regrow once you harvest them, which you find really stupid. All these recourses, but you’re limited to 5 raspberry bushes? Honestly, aren’t there any other food sources?
You didn’t even want to get started on how tedious gathering clean water is.
————————————
You’ve started to base your days off of the weather. At first, it didn’t matter whether it was sunny of if it was rainy, you kept your routine. But, to make the days less repetitive, your routine changed based off the weather.
On sunny days, you’d go and tend to your garden and go out to collect resources, adding them to your ever growing stash of things you’ll ‘use later’.
On rainy days, you’ll fish. All day. But you don’t fish fish. No. You fish sticks and stones and everything but fish! Oh, how you craved fish…
Today was a sunny day, you WERE tending to your garden but got distracted by a trail of smoke in the distance.
‘Had that always been there?’ You thought.
Maybe it was the small fire you saw when you first arrived (even though you don’t remember seeing a fire). You shrugged it off and finished your chores.
It was a sunny day when you hiked up towards where you first awoke, looking for more sticks. It was then that you noticed that the smoke did not come from a small fire, there was no small fire, but instead came from a hill you had never bothered to climb.
You stared at the smoke in confusion before narrowing your eyes.
Something was on your island.
You didn’t like that.
And so, you grabbed the sturdiest stick you could find (it wasn’t very sturdy) and climbed the hill. What you found was a small, crashed airship. When had that happened?
You approached the suspicious aircraft and peered inside. There wasn’t much, maybe some scraps you could use-
“Hello.”
You let out the most high pitched, horrified scream you ever scrumpt and whipped around.
In front of you stood a man with his hand awkwardly raised in a wave. He was a beautiful man, you’d say (not that you have anything to compare him to). His dirty blond hair perfectly framed his face, and his deep blue eyes stared right through you.
(You’d say they look like murky waters, but you’ve never seen such a thing.)
The man smiled a waved once more, thinking you didn’t see him at first. But you saw him, of course you saw him! You smiled brightly, as bright as the sun behind you, and laughed.
Another person! Company!
You weren’t alone anymore!
You were excited to show him your farm of cotton and raspberries, your house too big for you but perfect for two. You’d teach him how to craft and how to sew and how to-
“Hello.” You spoke softly, a joyous smile on your face.
“Hello.” He responded back, a gentler smile on his.
Tags: Slight Angst, Fluff, Smut, Apple Picking, Link's Metal Arm, Teasing, Link Uses Sign Language, Clit Play, Fingering, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Cunnilingus
Word Count: Around 1000
Written For: @fourseasonsbingo @smutceptember2025
Squares/Prompts Filled: Card B: Apple Picking for Four Seasons Bingo | Day 24 - Teasing for Smutceptember 2025
Dividers By: @/saradika-graphics
A/N: I'm sorry this is so short and I'm also sorry if it's terrible. I feel absolutely awful today. Thank you to anyone who reads. ❤️
The orchard stretched quietly in the late afternoon light, a perfect scattering of trees heavy with ripe fruit. You had come for apples, golden ones, their sheen catching like treasure in the sun, but your basket was still mostly empty. Link had been patient, shadowing you with his usual watchfulness, plucking fruit from branches too high for you to reach.
But it wasn’t the apples that held your focus.
Every time his arm moved, your eyes betrayed you. That glowing prosthetic shimmered faintly in the sunlight, the greenish-blue light pulsing beneath the metal. The claw-tipped fingers opened and closed with effortless grace, black nails catching on the skin of fruit, careful not to pierce. They looked dangerous, yet he was gentle, and you couldn’t stop imagining them against you.
Link glanced back. He caught you.
The glow lit his cheekbones, the sharp line of his jaw. His blue eyes, steady and unreadable, slid from your face to your basket and back again. Then, slowly, he tilted his head. A silent question.
You flushed hot, clutching an apple in your hand too tightly. You couldn’t even shape the words.
He stepped closer, close enough that the faint hum of his prosthetic made the hair on your arms stand on end. His flesh hand came up, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up to his. The other, the one you couldn’t stop staring at, hovered, the runes glowing faintly as his fingers twitched.
His brows lifted slightly, and with a single, precise gesture he signed:
You’re distracted.
Your breath stuttered. You swallowed hard, heat rising in your cheeks as your gaze darted from his eyes to the arm that burned in your thoughts. He watched your face, your struggle, then gave the faintest curve of a smirk.
That arm moved. The metallic fingers ghosted along your throat, not quite touching, but hovering. The sensation alone made you tremble. You tilted your head back instinctively, chasing it, but he pulled away just enough to deny you.
Your whimper broke the orchard’s hush.
He didn’t need words. His look said everything; he knew what you wanted.
Link bent lower, his mouth brushing yours in a fleeting, teasing kiss, but his prosthetic resumed teasing you. The claws traced your collarbone with agonizing slowness, their edges cold at first, then warming against your skin as though absorbing your heat. He never pressed hard, just enough to leave sparks behind.
The basket slipped from your grip. Apples rolled into the grass. You didn’t care.
His flesh hand steadied your hip, guiding you back against the tree’s rough bark, holding you still while the other explored. That strange glow flickered brighter as he dragged the tips down your chest, across the swell of your breast, pausing to circle your nipple through the fabric of your tunic until it tightened.
Your knees buckled.
Link’s eyes caught yours again, burning, unreadable...a challenge. He signed one word with the faintest movement of his fingers:
More?
You nodded desperately.
He rewarded you with another kiss, deeper this time, stealing the air from your lungs. His metal hand slid lower, teasing at the hem of your tunic, metallic nails scraping lightly over your stomach until your whole body tensed.
But he didn’t give you what you wanted.
Instead, he lingered there, claw-tipped fingers tracing idle patterns over your skin. His silence, his restraint, only made the ache worse.
The bark of the apple tree dug into your back, grounding you even as every nerve in your body sparked. Link’s flesh hand pinned you easily by the hip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, while his prosthetic continued its merciless, exploration.
The faint hum of it was maddening. Each metallic finger traced over the edge of your tunic, then retreated, then returned. Your breath came shallow, chest rising against him, your lips parting in soft whimpers you couldn’t hold back.
He tilted his head at the sound. His blue eyes, sharp and steady, flickered down to where his glowing fingertips hovered. Then, slowly, he dragged a single claw down the slope of your stomach, stopping just at the waistband of your trousers. The glow illuminated your skin, a halo that only made you ache more.
You gasped, arching up toward it. He stilled.
His gaze lifted to yours, intense, questioning. With his free hand, he signed one word against your hip, the movement so subtle you almost missed it:
Beg.
Heat exploded through you.
“Link…” your voice cracked on his name, shame and want tangled in your throat. “Please.”
A small twitch of his mouth, not a smile, but close. His metal hand pressed lower, finally slipping beneath the waistband, and you cried out softly at the cool touch of metal against the burning heat between your thighs.
But he didn’t go where you needed him.
He traced circles against your inner thigh, claw-tips dragging light paths that made your muscles twitch helplessly. When you tried to rock your hips, he pulled back, forcing you still again. His silence was brutal, every look he gave you saying: not until I decide you deserve it.
You were trembling, thighs parting for him, your panties soaked. The glow from his arm lit every inch of you, exposing just how wet you were, and his eyes darkened when he noticed.
Your cheeks burned. “I can’t take it, please, I need you,” you gasped, voice breaking.
That finally earned you mercy.
His claws ghosted higher, the cold tips slipping beneath your panties and brushing your clit. He held you down firmly with his flesh hand, keeping you from escaping his control, while one glowing finger slid through your slick, gathering it, showing you just how wet you’d gotten for him.
He held his hand up between you for a moment, letting the glow highlight your arousal shining on his metal fingers, and his eyes locked to yours again as he knelt in front of you.
One finger, glowing faintly, slid just beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging lightly over your slick heat, teasing the very tip of your clit with the tip of his claw. You gasped, hips jerking, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to chase more of that touch, begging silently with every movement of your body.
He tilted his head, watching you writhe, letting the glow of his arm illuminate every inch of your dampened skin. He pressed slightly harder, slipping the finger inside you and curling it slowly, teasing at that sensitive spot that made your back arch and your legs tremble.
And then, without warning, his lips brushed along the inside of your thigh, warm and wet, contrasting with the glow of the metal inside you. You shivered violently, hips pressing forward, moaning his name, begging without words.
His tongue traced small circles, teasing your clit before moving lower, flicking lightly at your entrance that ached for him. He pumped his glowing fingers in perfect sync with his mouth, curling and pressing just right, driving you wild with desire.
You were shaking, slick coating both his fingers and his lips. Your hands fisted in his hair, needing him to stop teasing and finally let you cum. He groaned, tongue flicking faster over your clit as he added a second finger and pumped them harder.
Your moans were needy, your body quivering as waves of pleasure tore through you.
He didn’t pull back. He held you through it as slick coated his claws and your thighs alike. He stayed with you, unyielding, letting the aftershocks ripple through your muscles while his glowing fingers twitched inside you, eliciting small aftershocks that left you gasping.
Finally, he eased back slightly, leaving you utterly undone in his arms. His flesh hand still rested at your hip, holding you close, while the glowing prosthetic glinted with your cum. And though he didn’t speak, the intensity in his gaze told you he wasn't done with you.
