Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.
But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.
One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.
"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.
Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.
"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."
He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.
Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.
Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.
byrne the dueling spirit
One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.
Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.
And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.
Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.
"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.
But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."
Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.
You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.
But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.
tauro the scholar
Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.
Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.
"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"
Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.
A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.
"That's what it's supposed to feel like."
He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.
It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.
Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.
"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"
link the hero
Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.
Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?
That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.
And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.
"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....
"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."
Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.
"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."
Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.
For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.
The first time Tauro stumbled upon you was literally whilst you were draped across the dirty floor of a Zonai cave. Like a victorian maiden, you lay unconscious on the dark floors; Tauro nearly stepped on you if it weren’t for the lamp he carries on explorations. (Not that you’d mind him stepping on you.)
You were out cold, dust and dirt smeared onto your face, a journal mid-hand. You seemed to be doing some research of your own, a satchel by your side, and an unfortunately spilled bottle of water.
Quickly, Tauro checked for your heartbeat, pulling back the collar of your shirt to gently place his fingers on your pulse point. It was slow, but steady. You were breathing; he could hear your tiny puffs within the vast silence of the cave.
Tauro has heard of numerous adventures gone wrong, a few of his own fellow researchers falling victim to such emergencies. Lack of water, getting lost, or undernourishment were common. He took his voyage safety very seriously.
First, warmth. A cold cave like this would no doubt be miserable for someone your size. He unwraps the sky-blue jacket from his lower waist, carefully kneeling down and draping the cloth over your body. Hurriedly, he scoops you up into his arms, shuddering at the feeling of your ice-cold skin.
For a split second, he can’t help but stare a little at your face. You’re an explorer, just like him, no doubt. Pretty, too. He can’t wait to ask you of your studies once you’re safe and well. The man tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, further immersing himself in you.
After shoving your journal and pen into one of his spare pockets, and slinging your satchel over his shoulder, Tauro hurries out of the cave, jogging to retrace his steps back to sunlight. He sighs in relief when he steps out into the open sun, feeling warmth melt the chill of the cave away.
Your face is so pale, so ghastly it makes him wonder how long you were left in the cave. Any longer, and you could’ve been dead.
Through his shaggy locks, Tauro spots a tree rested by a cliff of rocks. Perfect; a nice place to rest and heal. He beelines towards the tree, cautiously peering around the area for any sign of a threat. Thankfully, there isn’t any, leaving Tauro to gingerly set you down on the ground once more. Kneeling down, he balls up the jacket, fixing it up to be a makeshift pillow for you to lay upon.
Thank Hylia for Tauro’s numerous pockets, fit to hold both water and rations. His friends tease him for having so many pockets, but he just thinks they won’t be as prepared when needed be. He pulls out a strip of jerky, re-buttoning his vest pocket closed. Gently, he reaches out to feel your hand, searching for any sign of warmth in you.
Your hand is so soft, small compared to himself. How did you manage to voyage so deep into the cave alone? Explorer’s determination, he supposes. Tauro almost seems to forget that he’s supposed to be searching for your recovery, and instead starts kneading the palm of your hand with his fingers.
With the feeling of your fingers being played with, Tauro spots your eyelids flutter. As if you’ve burned him, he retreats his hand from yours, pretending like he wasn’t even touching you in the first place.
He watches the color slowly return to your face, and takes it upon himself to try to wake you up. A big hand tenderly rubs the side of your arm, hoping to wake you for food and water.
Unexpectedly, your eyes instantly flutter open, similarly to a possessed doll. You see sunlight dimmed by trees, the blinding blue sky above you. You feel laid down, lightly feeling the grass beneath you with your fingers.
Your eyes stay shut, but you croak to speak. You hear faint shuffling beside you, a sign of a person.
“Where am I?“ You ask.
Surprisingly, you hear nothing. But you do feel another few rubs on the side of your arm. The hand is big, rough from what you assume to be some kind of work.
Finally, you decide to open your eyes. It takes you a moment to get fully adjusted to the light, but you do eventually.
You see no eyes, but you do see hair. You do see a vest, chestnut skin, comically large goggles. A man, no doubt. A handsome one too. With squinted eyes, you can see his deadpan expression, and you can feel his arm try to ease you to sit up. You obey, working with him to rest yourself against the rough bark of the tree behind you.
You watch as the man unscrews a cap from a flask, and you can hear the faint swish of water. It makes you unbelievably thirsty. In a blur, the man kneels further closer to you, tilting your jaw forward with the most caring of touches. He shows you the flask, and you open your mouth a little, allowing him to tilt the flask. Gradually, you paw and grab at the bottle, insistive that you could drink water independently. (You can’t even grasp the flask properly.)
After a few drinks, you take your fill of water, Tauro absentmindedly stroking the corner of your jaw with his thumb. It shouldn’t make you flush, especially in your condition, but he manages to somehow bring even more color to your cheeks.
You feel like the water has washed away some of your fatigue, and you allow yourself to further inspect your savior. He’s really big, you feel like, but the way he cares for you is cute. Maybe you should pass out in caves more often.
You almost frown when Tauro recoils his hand from your jaw, but you then realize he’s giving you food, which makes you happier. He (attractively, might I add,) tears a piece of jerky with his teeth, pressing it closer to your mouth. Weakly, you fumble the piece between your fingers, pressing it into your mouth to slowly chew on.
“Atta’ girl.“
His voice is exactly what you expected it to be, its embarrassing how much that motivated you alone to eat your food.
“It’s good.“ You added, feeling around for pieces stuck in your teeth with your tongue.
He tears you another, and you take it, chewing it up in slight hopes he’ll encourage you again.
“I found you passed out in the cave.“ He mutters, and you flush a little in embarrassment.
"Sorry-” you chuckle. “I just really wanted to log down the scripts. I’m trying to decode them.”
Intrigue sparks in Tauro, and before he can even think, words string out of his mouth like music.
“My team and I have been researching as well. As of now, we’ve been linking the scriptures to some of our own slabs that we’ve found.”
His outburst is passionate, and you’re surprised at the hearing of a full on team by his side. It’s like he’s trying to hold back excitement, but it’s bursting at the seams. He must be very dedicated, and you assume he may be possibly working with Kakariko researchers. They’re known to be passionate of their work.
Tauro doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. He’s radiating with impulse.
“Won’t you like to come take a visit at my lab later? I can show you our findings. There’s so much to uncover...“
You realize that he has a gentle hand on your forearm. There’s a faint smile on his mouth, and you can’t help but want to peek through his shaggy fringe. What color would his eyes be? Does he have just as much of a kind smile with his hair pushed away?
He’s cute... really cute.
“Name?“ You ask. He passes you another piece of jerky.
“Tauro. It’s Tauro.“
You finish chewing, and you can feel his gaze on you.
Hello! I don't know if you write for the more obscure characters in Botw/Totk but I figured I'd ask just in case ☺️ Could you please write something about Tauro, Purah, Sidon and Zelda dating a Sheikah s/o who's chronically ill/disabled? It'd be great if you could make them specifically have weak bones and be really short too, and they're often upset how people keep babying them because they might fracture or break something. But if you want to keep it more open-ended that's fine too!
Thank you so so much, you're probably my favorite Zelda blog on Tumblr! Your writing and ideas are always like *chefs kiss* 😘! Have a good day and drink lots of water!
Whenever people tell me I'm their favorite anything it literally shocks me because there are SO many fantastic zelda fic blogs on here that I feel are vastly superior - but I thank you nonetheless! 🥰
I'll write for pretty much any character - I just keep romance and nsfw content for adults. So I'd be happy to!
Tauro, as well-mannered and good-natured he is, is amongst the mass where he needs to be reminded that while you are disabled, you aren't incapable of doing normal things. He tries his best to remember that, but his rambunctious and steadfast nature leads him to be righteous and helpful, even when it's not needed. Plus given his height, he always just assumes that people tend to need help to reach things in tall places if he's ever around.
He does try his best to be sensitive to your needs and wants, however, tapping his hand to his chest when he catches himself doing too much. Instead, he makes an effort to remind himself to wait for you to ask him should you need anything. Very affectionate, otherwise - he enjoys making you smile and wrapping his big ol' bear arms around you (albeit, he's careful not to actually squeeze you too hard because he does NOT know his own strength) and is very attentive on the days that you specifically don't feel well and your body leaves you in a weaker state than normal.
Purah, being the research fanatic and accomplished scientist that she is, is already aware and well read on your illness. That, however, has never stopped her from being absolutely smitten with you. Where she is boisterous and outlandish, there is a careful resilience to you that she keeps close to her heart. She sees your frustration often with the townsfolk who treat you with unnecessary delicacy, and while she understands the "good-intent", she feels as you do: chronic illness should not beget differential treatment. When you express your frustrations, she's an open ear always. Purah is never one to explain why the people of your community act this way that leans in their favor, but rather why their attitudes should not portray you under a fragile light when you are anything but. She empathizes with you greatly, knowing exactly what it's like for your own people to treat you like you're something you're not (her experiences with de-aging left quite the mark), but she assures you that you've always got her on your side.
“I’ve never much like everyone else…and neither have you,” Purah muses, tapping her recorder in her hand. She lifts her glasses, her crimson eyes blazing in your direction with admiration and sincerity, “I guess that makes us a cut above the rest, now doesn’t it?”
Sidon is about as bubbly with you as you can imagine. That sharp smile completely alight when you're with him. His height difference compared to yours doesn't bother him considering he towers greatly over just about everyone he meets, so as long as you don’t care (which he secretly hopes you don’t!) then all is well. When he learns about your chronic illness, he’s at first admittedly worried, but he sees how much you value your independence and doesn’t push you to do less than anything you’re up for. Sidon, having learned his healing capabilities from Mipha, will actually offer to “bathe” with you whenever you’re not feeling especially strong, letting the softness of his magically imbued water immerse your body and take any pain or pressure off of your form for a while and bring you some ease. You don’t take him up on it often, half because you don’t feel it’s always necessary, and half because you don’t want to impose - though of course Sidon would refute you ever being an imposition upon him. He chooses his words very carefully, making sure to give you the impression that he’s willing to do whatever you need should you need something from him, but without overstepping and making you feel incapable.
“You’ll never be without, my darling,” Sidon whispers, taking your hand, those slit-pupiled eyes softening as he brushes back a lock of your silver-white hair, “But I will never claim to know you better than yourself.”
Zelda has always been a ball of curiosity, that’s one of the things you love about her. She has an awfully curious mind, so when you explain to her about your chronic illness for the first time, she of course asks you a lot of questions. You laugh thinking about back then, how she felt terrible for borderline prying into your life though she wanted to know everything about you at that time. You remember assuring her that it was fine, and it made you incredibly grateful that Impa had introduced you before she stepped down - it allowed you two to get close. The times that you’ve gone to town together, Zelda takes notice of how people tend to treat you akin to porcelain: delicate, fragile, some even giving off the impression that you’re a lost cause because of your Sheikah heritage. Combined with your stature (with Zelda herself being on the shorter side of an average Hylian’s height), it’s enough to infuriate you both. You two tend to bounce off of one another: shes sticks up for you when you feel like someone’s unnecessarily babying you, and you put your two cents in whenever someone is overly cautious and hovering due to her status, even after proving herself beyond capable. Ultimately she too understands your plight of people looking at you differently because of who are you or what they know about you. She recants the days when her father treated her as helpless and small, hyper focused on keeping her in line rather than letting her be her own person. She takes your hand, intertwining fingers with yours and lending you a genuine smile.
“But we are not weak. We are not frail or easily broken. I am not defined entirely by my title,” Zelda kisses the top of your hand before gently covering it with her other in an endearing move, “And you are not defined by your illness.”
Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.
But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.
One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.
"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.
Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.
"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."
He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.
Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.
Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.
byrne the dueling spirit
One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.
Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.
And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.
Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.
"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.
But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."
Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.
You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.
But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.
tauro the scholar
Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.
Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.
"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"
Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.
A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.
"That's what it's supposed to feel like."
He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.
It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.
Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.
"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"
link the hero
Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.
Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?
That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.
And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.
"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....
"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."
Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.
"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."
Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.
For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.
“drink some water, you’re not looking too hot out here.” “you’re seriously making a pun. right now?” “that was unintentional.”
I feel like this could be a good one for tauro?
A/n: This is perfect for Tauro and I’m very sorry this took me so long!
You never did think it could get this hot in Kakariko Village, it felt like you were stuck in a sauna though while you were hot you were more concerned for your lover Tauro.
Fanning yourself you walked over to the man, his form was hunched over inspecting something you couldn’t see. Tilting your head you sunk your teeth in your lip getting distracted. It was hard to remain focus when you had someone like Tauro in front of you.
Though it was the crinkle in his brow followed by the sudden in take of breath that brought you back to reality. Stepping forward you placed your hand on his shoulder, the heat was radiating off of him.
Puffing out your cheeks you placed your hand on his shoulder hoping to get his attention. “Tauro.Drink some water, you’re not looking to hot out here.”
Snorting, Tauro flexed his hand looking you up and down as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re seriously making a pun. Right now?”
Blinking, you turned your had away crossing your arms over your chest, it suddenly felt way too hot now. “That….was unintentional.”
Laughing, Tauro stood to his full height drawing you in for a hug.
I was thinking about tauro and okay what if like before he joined the zonai research his s/o (reader) was super affectionate but after he joined they started to pull away a bit or just not be as affectionate and he's like "did I do something wrong?" And either reader would be like "no I just know how much you care for this research so I didn't want to be a distraction/ hindrance" or "yep everything is fine". Also if that man has an s/o there is literally no way he isn't littered with hickies like c'mon look at him. Anyways thank you if you read this far. I love your writing. Keep up the good work!
I love this so much!! It just fits him perfectly too.
I fully believe that if his S/O would go down the route of down playing their feelings then I feel like he might know what was wrong.
That he would make sure they feel loved and cherished, he wouldn’t want his work to take up time with someone he loves.
And if it were the “I didn’t want to distract you” he would disagree and tell the reader her they were never s distraction.
Also facts! You can not change my mind that this boy isn’t covered in hickes and makes by his S/O and you know he proudly shows them off.
“These are done by the one I love”
Side note: thank you! You’re very sweet and I love it when people enjoy my work 🥰. I wouldn’t have this blog if it weren’t for all of you
