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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 year

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Breath of the Sky Ch 10 (SS meets BotW)

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE :D :D :D

Okay okay, I'm not... entirely happy with this chapter but I'm not unhappy with it, either. It's just kind of awkwardly paced, I feel like, but if I kept going it would take a century to get this sucker out and probably even longer to read it. So here we are.

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing husband/chosen hero is.

(AO3 link)

Chapter 10: A King's Request

Something made a strange noise, pulling her from the inky darkness she'd slipped into. Light. There was light. Taking a slow, deep breath, Zelda furrowed her brow a little as the light pierced through her eyelids, casting an amber glow in front of her eyes.

Amber.

Her eyes opened in an instant. But she wasn’t drained and collapsing into Link’s arms in the Temple of Hylia. She was…

Ah. That’s right.

Zelda shifted, feeling the cotton sheet scratch her bare skin. She was a little chilly, but not uncomfortable, though she did shuffle under the heavy blankets a bit more, pushing some disheveled hair out of her face. She stretched briefly, feeling her blood flow through her body, and glanced to the other side of the bed. Link was snuggled under the blanket all the way to his nose, his fluffy dirty blonde hair barely visible. Zelda smiled, her heart full.

Last night had been magical.

Slowly, she made her way over to her husband, holding him close against her for some extra warmth. Link mumbled in his sleep, turning towards her slightly. She lightly rubbed her nose against his, giggling as he scrunched his face and sniffled in response.

And then she nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a knock at the door.

Heart racing, Zelda bolted up, looked down at her less than fit-for-company appearance, and then snatched the blanket and shoved it up to her chin. Link shivered a little, rolling away from her and taking the blanket with him.

“Link!” Zelda hissed in protest as her fluffy shield was stripped away.

There was another knock at the door. “Your Grace, Hero of—”

“J-just a minute!” Zelda said, trying to sound commanding and only succeeding in sounding like a teenager caught in the midst of breaking some kind of rule.

Looking around frantically, Zelda saw a sash in one corner of the room, her dress in another, Link’s trousers lazily hanging over the chair, and accessories scattered in multiple nooks and crannies. It was a veritable puzzle that she had to piece together. She scrambled out of the bed, face flushing as she immediately went to the window to slam the curtains closed (what time was it? She felt like she'd only just fallen asleep), and then began to gather different articles of clothing.

Link continued to snore in bed. Zelda glanced at him at one point, exasperated. How could he sleep through this?!

Zelda felt something sharp and prickly dig into her heel and she hissed, hopping on one foot for a few seconds, leading to her balance being thrown off as she unceremoniously face planted onto the floor.

Snoring continued to float lazily from the bed.

“Your Grace, Great Hero, is everything all right?” the voice called from the door. It was unfamiliar, whoever it was, and that made Zelda all the more agitated.

Groaning, she pulled herself up from the floor, now shivering. “Yep! Fine! Just another minute please!”

Her foot throbbing in pain, Zelda glared down to see that the offending object that had caused the injury was her headdress from last night. Grumbling, she grabbed the cursed item and threw it onto the chair where it was less likely to cause damage. From her vantage point, though, she could see her dress, all crumpled up by the bed where Link was wrapped up at least three times over in two different blankets, his hair sticking out like he was some freshly harvested vegetable.

Zelda hastily threw the white garment over her head, growling as it fought against her desire to wear it, pulling in odd places with different layers sticking up. This fit just fine yesterday, why was this being such a pain?!

After finally managing to at least get the garment to flow freely from her head to her toes, she padded over to the door, trying to take a calming breath and slow her frantic heart rate. She smoothed her hands over her hair—which she immediately regretted because she could feel how tangled it must have looked—and cracked the door open.

And promptly felt her heart get stolen from her chest.

There was a woman in front of her, roughly around her age, with copious amounts of thick white hair tied in a half up, half down style. Her red eyes were wide, somewhat nervous but holding a fierce determination to them, and her face was stony.

But her forehead… it bore a symbol that Zelda had only seen on one other person.

Impa.

“Who are you?” Zelda asked quietly as she slowly straightened her posture, the door opening wider of its own accord.

The woman in front of her genuflected. “Your Grace, I am Impa of the Sheikah. I come to—”

The rest of her message was lost to Zelda. Impa?! How could this be Impa?! This made no sense!

Wait. Wait. The princess… her name is Zelda. The Hero’s name is Link. This woman must be a descendant or at least of the same people as Impa, then. The name is an honoring, just as the others are.

Zelda took a steadying breath as logic helped calm her whirling thoughts. She knew she had to be right. After all, this woman bore little to no resemblance to the Impa she knew apart from her eyes and the symbol.

The current dilemma, then, was that she was genuflecting, clearly expecting a reply, and Zelda had no idea what she had said beyond her name.

Zelda felt her dress push into her neck uncomfortably, and she pulled the collar down her chest a bit, swallowing. “I’m sorry, Impa, I… I didn’t… it’s nice to meet you, but what is it that you want?”

Impa slowly glanced up at the disheveled teenager and bit her lip, her cheeks blushing slightly. She quickly looked down again, as if ashamed or timid, like she bore some secret that she didn’t want revealed. Zelda grew confused, felt her dress ride up at her neck again, and yanked it irritably.

“Your Grace, I come bearing a message – a request for an audience from the king.”

The king? What could the king want at this hour of the morning? Zelda felt pretty tired, and it was still early light out; surely this could wait?

She supposed she didn’t have much right to argue, though. The king had been nothing but accommodating, and he’d thrown the most extravagant feast in her honor that she’d ever seen, past or present. Zelda sighed, running a hand down her face. Suddenly she felt both obligated and frustrated. How much longer should this farce even go on? She’d come here to find Link. That issue had been more than resolved.

But everything that she’d learned last night…

“Very well,” she said. “I just… does he want me to come right now?”

Impa glanced up again. Zelda finally realized she would remain genuflecting unless told otherwise.

Interrupting whatever the woman was about to say, Zelda hastily waved her hand upward. “Please, get up.”

Impa obeyed, straightening and standing at eye level. It made Zelda almost take a step away. The woman’s gaze was strong, though not as stern as the Impa she’d known. But the red eyes were unique, something that undeniably reminded her of the servant and friend who had guided and protected her for millennia.

“Your Grace, I believe given the situation, it is best to take your time and prepare for the audience.”

“What situation?” Zelda questioned, growing more anxious.

Impa cleared her throat uncomfortably and folded her hands behind her back, tipping her head towards Zelda.

The confusion returned, quelling her worries. “What is it?”

“Your Grace… um, you might want to check your dress.”

“My—“ another firm tug on her collar “My dress is beautiful, I don’t know who made it, but—”

“Your Grace. Check your dress.”

Zelda blinked, bewildered. Looking down, she immediately understood.

She was wearing her dress backwards.

Her cheeks burned, and she knew they likely matched the same shade of crimson as the woman’s eyes. “Ah. Uh, right. Right. I’ll just… um, please tell the king I’ll see him after breakfast and… yes. I’ll see him later.”

Impa nodded mutely, her eyes downcast as she tried to help Zelda save face.

Link snored loudly all of a sudden behind her.

“Thanks!” Zelda yelped, slamming the door in Impa’s face.

Groaning, she turned around and leaned against the door, sliding to the floor.

Well that was a great first impression.

XXX

The morning air was sharp in his lungs as he inhaled with a hiss, dodging a blow by a hair’s breadth. The creamy white trident gleamed in the sunlight, its fiery rose highlights catching his eyes before he pushed the weapon away with his shield.

“Oh! Link, are you alright? I almost hit you!” Mipha said, withdrawing a step or two.

Link hated to admit it, but Mipha was right – she had almost landed a blow that he could usually dodge easily. He wasn’t sure if she had improved her technique so substantially in her absence or if he was that distracted.

Mipha had certainly grown in her fighting prowess, but Link would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little out of sorts.

After last night’s fiasco, he’d spent the rest of the party meandering with the champions. Mipha had kept him fairly distracted and entertained, and he’d appreciated the gesture. It had mostly worked, too, but then he’d gone to bed and the anxieties he’d started to feel came up and clutched him by the throat.

Least to say, he hadn’t slept well.

Link breathed out as evenly as possible. He’d found Mipha first thing in the morning for sparring – he needed to get the energy out, he needed to feel like he could handle this blade once more.

It seemed this wasn’t helping much.

“I’m okay,” he said with a small attempt at a reassuring smile. “Let’s go again.”

But Mipha was distracted now, her gaze somewhere over Link’s shoulder. Confused and a little concerned, he turned to see what she was watching.

Several feet away in an adjacent part of the garden stood in the Hero of Myth.

Link immediately felt his mouth go dry and his body freeze. The Hero hadn’t noticed them yet, staring off somewhere, standing in profile to them. He was wearing the white undershirt and trousers from his outfit last night, substantially more dressed down in its untucked manner. His hands traced along some bushes absentmindedly, gaze distant, face cool and collected. It reminded Link eerily of himself, and he didn’t know what to make of that.

Mipha nudged him from behind. “Link, you should go talk to him. Maybe you two can spar together? Imagine what you could learn from him!”

Link felt his world practically flip upside down. He couldn’t say no; he was too choked up to say anything. He prayed Mipha would notice that he wasn’t in the mood to speak.

Mipha at least picked up on something. His dear friend turned to face him fully, her hand resting on his shoulder, the one warmth in his entire frigid body. He felt a cold sweat start to materialize on his brow, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he wanted to burst out of his skin and was going to throw up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly so as not to alert the Hero.

“How did you get this blade?”

The question had been nearly hissed, almost accusatory. Link had been agonizing over it all night. Had the Hero not believed the tale told by the bard? Had he doubted that Link was actually the bearer of the Spirit of the Hero? How could he tell Mipha that the person he was supposed to live up to thought he was a failure already?

He felt a sharp, agonizing sympathy for Zelda all of a sudden.

There was a sound in the garden up ahead, and Mipha and Link both returned their attention to the Hero.

He’d noticed them.

Link’s eyes locked with his, and his chest tightened so much he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do.

The Hero of Myth watched them carefully, eyes boring into Link’s soul. His face looked pale in the morning light, and then—

And then he coughed harshly, bending over and rushing somewhere out of sight. Link could still hear him, and Mipha, the healer that she was, immediately ran to his aid.

Was… was he getting ill? It sounded like it, and it made Link’s own stomach churn uncomfortably.

Uncertainty held him back, but a natural empathy urged him forward. Link walked stiffly to catch up with Mipha, who had already run to the Hero’s side, just out of sight around a bend. When the two came back into view, the Hero was on his knees dry heaving into a bush with Mipha kneeling beside him, hand on his back.

“I’m going to get you some water,” Mipha said, rising. She looked pleadingly at Link. “Please keep an eye on him.”

A pang of irritation and horror combined into a strange mixture of a dizzying headache that made him snap to attention and want to scream all at once. Instead, he jerked his head forward in a stiff nod. Mipha watched him a moment longer, the concern in her eyes familiar, but it did little to soothe his anxieties when she’d practically thrown him at the one person he wanted so desperately to avoid.

He supposed there was little point in avoiding him now. His father would tell him to face his fears, anyway.

Link swallowed bile and awkwardly stepped forward, unsure what exactly he should do. Considering the cold reception he’d gotten last night, he was certain the Hero of Myth wanted nothing to do with him. He tried not to think about that.

“S-sorry…”

The weak, hoarse word was barely audible over the Hero’s pants for air, but it cut through the tension in an instant. Link shifted weight between his feet, wondering what he should say or do.

He really couldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t dare. Not after last night.

But Hero or not, this person was clearly feeling horrible. Link… wished he was better equipped for this, but…

The Hero glanced over at him a moment, pale and sweaty and suddenly looking so small. His eyes shifted from Link’s face to the sword on his back, and then he squeezed them shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Goddess above…”

Link stared, completely lost. Was the Hero disgusted at the mere sight of him?

Could this morning get any worse?

“Maybe you’ll have better luck than me,” the Hero muttered, his tone deep and dark and biting. Link flinched at the remark, and the one part of his brain that wasn’t just screaming really registered the words.

The response scraped out of him before he could stop it. “What?”

Oh goddess. Oh goddess. What did I just do, shut up shut up SHUT UP—

The Hero rose, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and facing him. He looked… incredibly tired. Placing a hand on Link’s shoulder, he squeezed it for a moment, some strange expression of empathy and worry and pity and guilt at war on his face, eyes constantly flicking from Link to the Master Sword, and then the Hero stepped away, letting his hand fall.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, walking away, leaving Link reeling in the garden alone.

What... what?

Link stood there for one, two, five minutes. And then he heard Mipha approaching.

Overwhelmed and confused, he ran back into the castle before anyone could find him. He...

He needed to talk to Zelda.

XXX

Zelda had come back to an empty bedroom after washing up, eating something, and putting on her knight attire. Though it worried her that Link was already up and about without her even knowing where he’d gone, she had still promised to meet up with the king to discuss… whatever it was he needed.

This was her last day of politely going along with this charade, however. Link was better. There was literally no reason for them to stay here anymore. They… they needed to go home.

Her mind whispered words that had been spoken last night. Legends of a calamity coming over and over again. She shook her head violently.

Maybe Link had been right. Maybe it was a different problem and they attributed it to Demise.

But it wasn’t just that, was it?

The king. The princess. They’re our family. We built this place.

She wanted to stay and learn more. She really did. But they’d just disappeared in the midst of a destructive accident back home. People had to be worrying by now.

Sighing, she clenched her fists and determinedly left the room, allowing the servant Impa to guide her to the main area where the king would be waiting for her. Following a Sheikah named Impa to her destination was so bizarrely familiar and out of place all at the same time that her world was spinning.

How could things be so different and so similar all at the same time? How could things be so astounding and amazing and magical and horrifying all at once? How could this place elate her and terrify her? It was like discovering the Surface all over again. At least here she had Link… but she desperately missed Impa now.

Zelda entered the same room as last night’s festivities, the one where she’d originally met the king. He stood on the ground level awaiting her, his face serious.

Zelda watched him warily. This… didn’t look good.

“Your Grace,” he acknowledged with a deep bow as the doors closed behind her, leaving them alone. “I hope you enjoyed all Hyrule had to offer you last night.”

Zelda lingered a little too long on what had transpired last night, and a blush colored her cheeks. She cleared her throat, shaking the thoughts and feelings away. “It… it was amazing. I appreciate the effort of showing us what Hyrule grows into.”

And she truly did appreciate it. Truly. But… she had a feeling that wasn’t what this meeting was about.

“Your Grace,” the king started slowly. “I… understand that traditions vary, that legends change depending on who speaks them. We did the best we could to maintain our history over the years, but I… cannot help but think that the story we gave you last night was not quite correct.”

Zelda raised her eyebrows in surprise. Had... someone actually figured out that she truly had no idea what the hell was going on? Had the king realized that, despite her past, she was still just a knight from Skyloft? Could she finally put her past behind her?

“I… do not understand the nature of your war against the Calamity,” the king explained. “Only that you and your Hero won it. However… the words spoken of its impending return are true. A prophecy was made many years ago, while my daughter was still a child. The Calamity will come.”

There was such a finality to those words. It wasn’t a matter of if the demon king would return, but when. Zelda felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as the cold, hard realization slammed into her.

Demise was still alive.

Golden Three. How was he still alive?! How was that possible?!

Was… was the king about to ask what she thought he was about to ask?

“Hyrule needs your help, Your Grace,” King Rhoam said finally. “…Zelda needs your help.”

Her mind immediately snapped back to the prayer last night.

“Goddess Hylia, I pray you give me the strength to protect my people.”

Oh. Oh, no. What… what were they expecting of her?

“My daughter is destined to seal away the Calamity, as you once did,” the king continued, unaware of Zelda’s internal crisis. “But she… she has been… having difficulty accessing her powers. She is the key to everything, and if she fails, Hyrule will fall. I… I beg of Your Grace. Please. Help my daughter fulfill her destiny. Help her defeat the Calamity as you once did.”

What?

She… he… he wanted her to be the princess’ guide? But—but she—this was—

What was she supposed to do? Was there a seal keeping Demise at bay? Where was the Triforce?

How had he survived?!

She had no plan here, she had no knowledge, nothing. Despite the confusion, despite the fear and the wonder and the chaos of her adventure, her memories had helped her at least know what she’d needed to do. She’d had a plan in place.

She knew nothing here.

“Where is he?” she asked. “And where’s the Triforce?”

The king’s expression turned to surprise and confusion. “Your Grace?”

“Where is he sealed?” Zelda asked slowly, hating everything about this. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d thought the war was over.

She heard Link’s screams in her mind. She felt her soul being ripped out of her body.

Shaking her head subtly, she pressed on, trying to keep her voice even. “Is the seal weakening? What about the Triforce?”

Was this the true reason Link had been thrown into the future? Was this some other plan Hylia—she had put together and she just hadn’t unlocked the memory yet? She… she’d sworn it was over!

“We don’t know where he is,” the king answered, shaking his head. “And the Triforce… the Triforce is an item of myth. I understand it must have been present during your time as the legends state, but… we no longer know of its location, if it even still exists.”

Zelda felt her blood freeze. She had sacrificed everything to protect the Triforce and it… was gone?!

“The ancient Hero of ten thousand years past was able to defeat the Calamity with the assistance of the divine beasts and the princess’ divine power,” King Rhoam spoke. “The Triforce was not used then, either.”

“No!” Zelda suddenly snapped, losing her mind and her composure. “Don’t you understand?! It’s not about sealing, it’s about killing – you can’t kill him without the Triforce!”

Her words echoed in the room, screaming in her mind. Brokenly, she said, “How can it be gone?”

This… this was a nightmare.

So this was what it all amounted to? Everything she and Link had fought for had been lost?

No, she argued back defiantly, closing her eyes and shielding her face with her hands. No. It isn’t all lost. Just look at everything around you! Look at the kingdom they made, despite all the odds!

But…

Impa. The countless beings in her memories. The humans who hadn’t been able to leave the Surface. They’d all died for nothing.

Zelda fell to her knees.

So this was why those legends existed. This was why Demise came back again and again and again.

But how had he survived the first time?! What could she do to stop him?!

Why was this happening?!

“I… I didn’t think it was possible to kill such a beast.”

The king’s voice was so quiet, so unsure, so frightened. Images of people hiding behind her and seeking her aid and protection seared into her mind, and a wave of protective ferocity drove her to lower her hands and open her eyes.

“Your Grace, I…” the king stammered uncertainly, looking downcast. “I have failed you. I do not know anything of the Triforce. But I… I beg of you, please… let me take the fall, but save my people. Help my daughter.”

Zelda let out a shuddering breath, and slowly rose. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix this.

But she wasn’t going to just leave them like this.

“I’ll help,” she said quietly. “But I need you to do something for me.”

The king’s sad eyes brightened, filled with hope and eagerness. “What does Your Grace need?”

“Send knights to the place where I appeared. A lot of them,” Zelda instructed. “And guard that area so no one can access it.”

She wasn’t making the same mistake as last time, after all. Nobody was going through the Gate of Time.

Golden Three, was… was that why? Was that the reason Demise was still here, countless millennia later?

Zelda’s head was spinning. She couldn’t wrap her mind around this anymore.

“Of course,” the king acknowledged with a nod of his head. “I’ll send my finest soldiers, as will the other leaders. You will have an army of Hylians, Zora, Gerudo, Rito, and Gorons protecting it.”

Gorons? At least she knew what Gorons were.

She supposed she’d be sticking around long enough to figure out the rest of them.

How in the world was she going to explain this to Link?

Oh, Link. She knew that between the two of them he had probably been far more eager to go home. Not to mention…

The only way to defeat Demise was with his help.

But… Zelda wasn’t quite sure how this was going to work. Her entire plan had relied on the Triforce. Link had been chosen because of his unbreakable spirit – the criteria was literally that the power and allure of the Triforce wouldn’t corrupt him. Zelda had held Demise at bay, the Master Sword had guided Link, and…

The Master Sword. That knight.

This was… a mess.

“Thank you,” Zelda muttered, her mind already a million miles away from the room, spinning and confused and so utterly lost. She had no idea how she was supposed to fix this.

I guess I can start by talking to the princess.

XXX

Link was hopelessly lost.

When he’d first awoken to an empty room, he’d wandered outside. The sight of tiny birds was enticing, and it would provide a good distraction. As amazing as last night had been, it was over, and the heavy thoughts weighing on his mind were trying to return.

So naturally he’d had to run into that knight. The new Chosen Hero. The person whose life he’d probably destroyed from his own ineptitude. That had been an entire fiasco, and he was just trying to find his way back to the little house given to him and Zelda inside this large structure. He’d thought it would be easy to find his way back – this place couldn’t be that big, right?

He’d been wrong. This place was huge. He swore it was bigger than Skyloft itself.

Sighing heavily, he leaned against a stone wall as the fires crackled on the torches. He’d been up most of the night with Zelda, and it had been, well, incredible, but also now he was exhausted, he’d already gotten so overwhelmingly stressed he’d gotten ill, and he had no idea where the heck he was.

I’ve got to be close, right? He thought desperately, his head starting to ache.

Link took a fortifying breath and started to walk again. At least he’d finally adjusted to the climate. Surface Sickness could be a pain with the lingering fatigue it often brought, but he’d been down here long enough that he’d adapted. He was sure Zelda felt the same way.

Where even was Zelda? He hadn’t seen her all morning.

A familiar anxiety tried to well its way into his mind, but he shook his head. No one here was going to hurt her; he learned that much from yesterday’s celebration.

Whispers of doubts, worries, and observations started to overwhelm him, and he shook his head again. No. He wasn’t going to think about it. He would just keep moving forward like he always did. Everything was fine.

Link felt some hope spark within him as he saw a door up ahead. That had to be it, right?

Picking up his pace, he opened the door to find himself in an unfamiliar room. White and grey tiles lined the floor and were occasionally covered with red velvet carpet. The stone walls had many bookshelves lined along them aside from multiple arched windows. A desk was in the corner, a vanity on the other wall beside a large four post bed, and a massive spiraling staircase was in front of the wall opposite of him.

Link bit his lip. This wasn’t the room provided to him, so he wouldn’t find Zelda here. But he was so tired, and he couldn’t tell what time it was, but the sun was definitely still hanging heavily, slowly crawling up into the sky. His mind was a fog, trying to hide words of curses and malice in a haze that left him feeling incapable of thinking straight. A nap would do him so good; he could find Zelda when he could actually focus.

Making his way to the bed, he promptly collapsed on top of the blanket, immediately falling asleep.

XXX

Princess Zelda scribbled some notes into her research journal and then leaned back in her seat. After the festivities earlier in the night she’d buried herself in work. She was eager to talk to their esteemed guests about the guardians and the divine beasts, and she was even more eager to learn about their era. Perhaps they knew about the divine beasts? Perhaps they were the ones who had ordered their construction? It was hard to tell – the tales spoke of their development ten thousand years ago, but there were other myths of different heroes and enemies and she didn’t know how they all fit together. Organizing it all in her journal would help.

It also gave her confidence to even approach them. Her brief interaction with Hylia last night had been exhilarating, but there was still a degree of timidity involved. As for the Hero of Myth, he was somewhat of an enigma; his gentle and soft features were unassuming and kind, but his mannerisms sometimes were contradictory. He had much more confidence and boldness in him than her appointed knight; sitting on the arm of the throne so casually with his arm draped around the goddess was quite the gesture, and everyone had commented on it. Zelda wasn’t really sure what to make of him. Still, if she’d learned anything from her experiences with her friend, it was to not judge a book by its cover.

Closing her journal, the princess stood and stretched. She’d probably take a walk around the castle a bit before heading to bed. When she exiting her study, however, she jolted to realize that it was early morning light.

Oh. Oops. No wonder I’m tired.

The princess had a momentary panic as she thought about whether she had any duties to attend to in the morning. When her addled mind found none, she relaxed. Perhaps she’d have time to sleep for a few hours before she was needed. Zelda walked across the bridge between the tower and her quarters and thoughtfully made her way down the spiral stairs into her room.

And then she stopped dead in her tracks as she heard soft snoring.

Her heart racing, she slowly crept towards her bed to see… to see…

Is that the Hero?!

Princess Zelda stared, completely flabbergasted. The Hero of Myth Descended from the Sky was prone on her bed, not even under the covers, not even in sleep clothes of any sort. He looked like he’d just belly flopped onto the mattress and passed out.

Zelda looked around wildly as if she should find someone else in the room. What was—why was he—what was she supposed to do?! What was happening?!

To be in her bedroom – such an action could have someone thrown in lockup, but this was the legendary Hero, this was—this was…

Zelda just stared, her brain fried. She didn’t know what to do.

The Hero continued to snore quietly, undeterred by the princess’ anxiety.

Gulping, Zelda tiptoed closer to her bed. Perhaps… he was unwell? And he just found her room? Or perhaps he had wanted to talk to her? Oh goddess, had he been up all night waiting for her?! No, that doesn’t fit, why would he be sleeping in my bed?!

Following her initial logic, she looked him over to see if he looked ill. Although there were bags under his eyes, a testament to his heavy sleeping, nothing else seemed unusual.

Shaking her head, she reached a tentative hand out and lightly tapped the young Hero on the shoulder. Nothing. Zelda gave another, more confident tap. Still nothing.

She cleared her throat. “E-excuse me.”

The snoring continued.

Starting to grow annoyed, Zelda huffed, “Excuse me.”

The Hero shifted, just a hair, and Zelda’s confidence vanished in a heartbeat. She took a startled step away, but it was for nothing. The Hero remained asleep.

Now what?!

She debated calling a guard or even her father, but she thought better of it. It wasn’t like he was doing anything too offensive, she supposed, even if it made absolutely no sense. Should she keep trying to wake him up? He clearly was exhausted.

Zelda bit her lip. She’d lost her boldness from earlier, no longer wishing to disturb him. She… she guessed he could just stay there. But where was she going to sleep?

Looking around the room and stepping away from the bed, Zelda’s gaze fell on the comfortable red chair in the center. Well… there was that.

I don’t want to sleep in a chair, she grumbled internally, and a part of her was incensed to awaken the Hero once more.

Energized, she tried again, but poking did nothing, speaking did little more than make the man occasionally twitch, and huffing in exasperation fell upon deaf ears.

Good grief, he is a heavy sleeper!

Eventually, Zelda gave up entirely. She didn’t want to bother going to one of the many guest quarters as they were nowhere near her room – and the instant she left her room she’d likely get absconded into some matter or another. She was almost too tired to care at this point.

Resigned to her fate, the princess dragged her feet to the chair, trying to get comfortable in some awkward position, and attempted to fall asleep. Her neck started to ache at the way she had it on the arm of the chair, and she felt confined in her dress, which she didn’t dare change out of while the Hero was in the room.

Well, she supposed she could grab her nightgown and change in the study, but… she didn’t feel comfortable doing so. Besides, what would that look like if a servant came in? She would be practically indecent with a married man, the Hero of Myth, her bloody ancestor in her room.

Maybe since he was her ancestor it wouldn’t look as scandalous? Or would it be even more so? She didn’t know.

Zelda sighed irritably, but then a sound caught her attention. It wasn’t gentle snores. It sounded… it sounded like a whimper.

Stiffening, she listened and heard it again. Uncurling from her chair, she glanced in the direction of the bed to see the Hero turning, his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched in what looked to be fear or worry. Was he waking up?

The Hero continued to shift, looking uncomfortable, and Zelda realized that he was still very much asleep.

A nightmare. He was having a nightmare.

Did heroes have nightmares? What could possibly scare him?

Zelda shook her head. She should know better than to ask that now. Link was spilling with anxiety at all times with the pressure he was under. She wondered if he had nightmares too.

The Hero let out a small whine. Zelda felt her chest clench. She couldn’t just watch him like this.

Rising, Zelda slowly and hesitantly walked to the bed. The Hero was on his side now, facing away from her. His body was tense and occasionally twitched, and he was subtly curling in on himself.

He looked so incredibly vulnerable. So normal. He didn’t look like a mythical hero, or the progenitor of the royal line, or the champion who triumphed over the original Calamity.

He was just a person, like Link. Like her.

Grabbing a hold of her resolve with this thought in mind, Zelda placed both hands on his arm and gave him a hard shake.

The Hero inhaled sharply through his nose, and his body froze. His breathing, initially rising to a level of gasping, was now evening out in careful, measured inhales and exhales. Though the princess couldn’t see his eyes, she could tell he was now awake.

She cleared her throat, trying not to startle him. The mild jump that shook his entire body indicated she didn’t quite succeed.

Quickly turning onto his back, the Hero’s eyes pierced into her, his face a little pale. Zelda swallowed, her nerves returning under his deep blue gaze. She had grown used to long, silent glances from Link, but his eyes somehow seemed… she didn’t know, the lighter blue made them less mysterious maybe. This Hero’s eyes were dark, like oceans that held so much in their depths that she couldn’t see. He seemed to be analyzing her for a moment, making her skin crawl, and then his eyes softened, his body easing into a more comfortable posture.

“Hi,” he said hoarsely, and his face relaxed.

Zelda blinked, not quite expecting such a simple greeting. “Um… hello. A-are you alright?”

The Hero gave a small smile, his head tilting somewhat into the pillow, and Zelda felt her heart melt as her muscles stopped clenching quite so hard. “I’m okay. Are you?”

Zelda bit her lip. “You were having a nightmare.”

His smile faded a little, and he looked away. “It happens.”

Zelda didn’t know what to say to that. She hugged herself, unsure what to do next. The Hero sighed and glanced back at her, asking, “Is this your bed?”

Her exasperation from earlier resurfaced, and she folded her arms. “Yes, actually.”

He hummed a moment and then said, “Is this your side of the bed? Do you have a side?”

Zelda blinked. What?

“There’s plenty of room.”

Zelda blinked again, horrified. What?!

The Hero smiled and stretched, closing his eyes, and then beginning to fall back asleep.

Wait a bloody second— “Um, excuse me.”

The Hero opened his eyes.

“This is my bed.”

The Hero stared at her. “Yes?”

Clearly, there was a miscommunication going on here. Zelda felt her cheeks blush as she grew flustered. “So I sleep in it.”

The Hero twisted, looking at the other side of the bed, glanced back at her, and pat the empty space beside him, bemused.

Was he—?! “I can’t sleep with you!”

The princess didn’t quite mean for her voice to sound like a near squeak when she said that.

The Hero looked even more confused. “Why not?”

“Why not?!” Zelda spluttered, feeling her ears redden as well. “Because—because it isn’t proper!”

“Proper for what?”

Zelda stared at him, mouth agape like a fish out of water.

The Hero furrowed his brow. “A bed’s for sleeping, after all. And there’s plenty of room for you to sleep here too.”

Zelda shut her mouth with a click on her teeth. She opened it again to protest and came up with nothing.

This was… this was ridiculous. But she was running out of both nerve and energy trying to explain how this was not okay, thank you very much.

But… he looked… so confused.

Who was this guy?! This legendary Hero of Myth from the Sky was the biggest enigma Zelda had ever met, and he…

She sighed, defeated. “At least take your boots off.”

Her heart skipped a beat at commanding a legend as if he were a normal person, and then she banished the thought. He was a normal person; she was recognizing that more and more.

And he was certainly an uncultured person. Downright feral, even. Who didn’t understand basic etiquette?!

The Hero bit his lip, looking positively brow beaten. “Sorry.”

Before Zelda could say anything, he kicked off his boots, letting them fall to the side of the bed, and then he slipped under the covers with a content sigh, closing his eyes.

Zelda stared at him. Then stared some more. Then stared some more.

What just happened? Had she just chastised the ancient Hero of Myth? Had he just apologized like a child being scolded? And was he still sleeping in her bed?!

She sighed again, exhausted. There was no arguing at this point. And she was too tired to care. And…

You know what? Screw it. He’s innocent and naïve, there’s no harm to it… it can’t be that bad.

Grabbing her nightdress, she tiptoed to her study, quickly changed clothes, and then made her way back to her room. The Hero was already snoozing. She watched him a moment more, grabbed a robe and wrapped herself in it with flustered energy, and then took a deep breath and settled onto the bed as if she were lying on a bed of charcoals in Goron City.

She did have to admit this was much more comfortable than trying to sleep in that chair, though.

With that thought in mind, Zelda turned to face away from the Hero and settled into an uneasy sleep.

#breath of the sky #writing #Who knew a recurring theme in this story would be “Link snoozes peacefully while Zelda has a mental breakdown”#I sure didn't #Link sleeps where he wants #Zelda was raised on ~propriety~#in a society where Link is worried about how he's perceived and thinks that a knight and a princess can't have any kind of relationship #and in a society where Rhoam and Zelda are concerned about how they're perceived #this HAS to be a big deal to them #cultural differences woot woot #I think I gave almost everyone a mental breakdown in this chapter #they deserve it #that's what they get for holding this story hostage so much #anyway everyone's looking for Princess and it's gonna be fun when they all converge #hopefully this turned out all right #breath of the wild #skyward sword #breath of the wild link #botw link #breath of the wild zelda #botw zelda #mipha #skyward sword link #ss link #skyward sword zelda #ss zelda #king rhoam #legend of zelda

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໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ RIDE DA D!CK LIKE A CARNIVAL ! ’﹒⺡

geto, choso, gojo, toji, nanami.

જ warnings. fem! reader, riding, cowgirl / reverse, praise, degredation, shotgunning, (toji) overstim, impact play, size kink, unprotected, breeding, cőckwarming, toy usage, nípple play, mdni.

𖢺 CHOSO KAMO.

“princess, wait,” choso huffs out. he leans back, still gradually catching his breath whilst you straddled him. he swallowed thickly, dark irises staring right into yours. his gaze lingers down your body, and he lets off a soft pout at the feeling of being so buried deep into you. “i- i can go again, want you to ride me,” and then he pauses, running a hand through his hair. “oh. i mean—please. if you still have energy.”

“okay baby,” you hum, and your voice was so smooth. the way you called him your baby, it had him so weak. choso stared intently as you playfully give him a soft shove on his back. “just lie back ‘n let me ride you, yeah?”

choso’s heavily panting, he goes mute for a split second and it’s if as words was practically nonexistent for him. with a raring nod, he brings two big hands towards your hips.

“good boy,” you murmur, pressed right up against his ear. you were merely teasing. although, you felt his dick twitch eagerly inside you. choso’s fingers softly stroke against your waist, and he moans once you start to move your hips forward. he’s still so sensitive from before, just barely over the intense mess he made — and now, you were about to make an even bigger one.

“oh f-fuckkk,” he drags out. it was awfully cute, choso’s pitchy deep voice turning out to be far more whiney than he intended. you were gripping him tightly, hugging him with your walls before not even seconds go by and he throws his head back. “yeah, yeahhh. ride me like that, fuck me, fuck me good, princess. please.”

he leans back before groaning at the way your walls grip around him, hugging him so tightly. choso can’t keep his hands off of you, he runs the tips of his fingers against the edges of your waist before pouting. “harder, f-faster.”

you’d giggle, leaning in to kiss his nose. “are you rushing me, baby?”

“n-nooo,” he breathes, and he feels you gradually grinding your hips against him. you stare at choso’s face—beads of sweat race down the sides of his forehead, and he whimpers. “your hips, ‘s killing me. so good,” and he’s just rambling to you by this point. it was adorable, the way his jaw would clench or tighten. the angle you had against him made his mind spiral. his cock reached deep, hitting all the right spots to even elicit a sweet moan or two from you as well.

choso’s panting, you playfully run a finger down his bare chest and he grunts. you had an compelling rhythm, making him only want you more. he lets off a sweet whine once you lean right up to his ear, whispering a sweet, “don’t be shy, baby. you can hold my hips.”

“fuck y-your voice ‘s gonna make me cum,” he babbles, bringing his rough hands towards your waist once more. he was so cute, far sensitive from his recent release. choso was gentle with his touch but his fingers were no stranger towards your body, roaming all over your hips sensually.

the sounds your pussy made in retaliation, squelch after squelch — it rang in his ears. it drove him dizzy, his mind was in for a loop.

choso’s eyes sexily roll back, and a tiny smile presses against his lips. you watch as he removes one hand from your waist, reaching above him to hold onto the headboard. his biceps, they curled and flexed and it made you stare a bit too long.

“how’s it feel? is it good?” you’d hum, leaning in to sneak a kiss near the corner of his mouth. his lips twitch, and it's so cute.

“you always make me feel good, princess,” he huffs out, one arm wrapping around you. your rhythm . . it was purely hypnotizing, you knew just how to take him.

so much of his inches burying into you, you made sure not to bounce your hips but grind. adding just a bit of pressure—he loves when you start to get a bit sloppy. the way he’s leaning back, it was unintentionally attractive.

it doesn’t take long before choso was approaching another heavily anticipated orgasm. he felt it, and he squeezed your hips with a cute needy look in his eyes. “i-i’m gonna make a mess again,” and his breathing cutely picks up. choso pulls you closer towards him. you don’t expect for him to bring his mouth towards your chest, softly lapping his tongue against your perky nipples. “gonna, ‘m gonna cum.”

“m-make a mess for me, baby,” you moaned, making your hips slow down just a bit so he could stimulate your nipples with his tongue. “it’s okay.”

your words were so smooth, he got off to simply your tone. it was building up and up—his thigh continued to bounce. and for yet a second time, he whimpers out once he feels himself pouring inside of you. a thick stringy load, ropes and ropes of his cum filling inside of your sweet cunt.

“f-fuck,” he’d whine, and it was as if everytime choso sweared, it made him ten times cuter. you giggle, panting yourself before kissing near his nose. choso’s eyes—he could barely keep them open. “ride me,” he pauses between his words, and you watch as he leans back, bringing a hand towards between your legs to feel his mess he created inside you. “ride me again, and a-again, and again….please.”

𖢺 NANAMI KENTO.

with nanami, he prefers for you to ride him whenever — especially whenever he gets home from work. a long tiring day at work, he loves coming home to you in hopes that you’d ride all of his pent up stress away. and you certainly do, happily.

“i missed my wife,” he’d grumble, and he was so knackered. you could hear it in his voice, whenever nanami was a bit drowsy his tone would deepen a bit. he was so tender with his touch against your hips. softly tracing against your skin to make you nearly lose your mind. “and i really missed these hips.”

you sat still with nanami’s dick being stuffed deep inside of your pussy. just a single move and he’d be even deeper. the thought of that made you salivate. he knew he was big just as much as you did. always the perfect size for you, never otherwise.

“good girl. get niiiice ‘n comfortable for me, okay?” and his words went straight down between your legs, you let off a moan once you buried your face into his neck. his strong scented cologne he had on all day at work wafts against your nose.

“okay…okay,” you’d mutter, feeling his big hands make its way towards your ass. he was always so handsy, allowing his rough hands to meander and roam all over your rear. you shiver a bit, feeling the coldness of his watch band run across your skin. “s-so big, kento.”

“ah. don’t hide that pretty face from me my love,” he’d purr, making you sit upright to face him. once you start to move—he grips your waist with one hand, another cupping your face.

nanami brings you into a loving kiss the moment you start to jerk your hips forward. you moan into his mouth, skimming your tongue against his and he even grunts lowly. a smile pokes near the corner of his lips before you hear him chuckle.

he adored how weak he had you for him, your hips stutter the more he swiftly runs a finger against your waist. once he pulls away, strings of pretty spit departing — he huffs out a sweet, “are you gonna move or do i have to do all the work like usual, sweetheart?”

“s-sorry,” you’d pant, and he was merely teasing. nanami simpers at the cute pout spreading on your lips and you start to adapt to a sweet sweet rhythm. he was so thick, stretching out your walls with such ease. nanami groans, he was still in his work clothes. long black slacks of his were just lazily pulled down and he had a button up shirt. his worn out collar was covered with nothing but a few smeared marks of your lipstick. “f-fuckkk, kento.”

nanami’s breath gets caught in his throat, feeling how wisely you used your hips against him. the lights in the room were dim. a few sweetened candles lit, the perfect romantic scene.

nanami stared at you with such a look of love, a soft smirk purses on his lips before he pulls you closer towards him.

“always know how to make me feel good, my love,” he murmurs against your ear. his voice was a low rasp. nanami’s face started to get a bit flustered once you started to moan directly into his ear. “i know, i knowww,” and he was talking you through everything in that smooth rich voice. it got you ten times wetter than you already were. you didn’t even know if that was possible. “keep looking at me, sweetheart. i wanna get lost in my wife’s pretty eyes.”

your started to whine once his dick reaches a pivotal spot. so deep, you feel him expand anywhere and everywhere like it was nothing. as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you quickened your pace by a few simple thrusts. nanami returns your gaze, and he’s so in love that he can’t help but smile as you’re completely losing yourself on him.

“kento, k-kento, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you’d start to babble after a while—you felt a bit woozy, leaning into his neck to softly suck against his skin. you nipped near the inner part of his collarbone, and he lets off a low groan. nanami leans back a little, just a little… and once he feels you grind in a back and forth motion he nearly loses it. so slow, the repetitive motion made his jaw tighten. you slip out a whimper once his cock prods against your g-spot, and your hands yank onto the fabric of his shirt.

“the pretty girl’s gonna cum on me, hm?” nanami teases, feeling you spread your legs against him a little bit. he brings a kiss towards your chin before bringing both hands towards your waist again. “look at that face, so cute ‘n needy,” and he can’t help but kiss you again. as you rocked back and forth, rotating your hips in long circles . . . he starts to pant himself. you start to nibble on his tongue and he chuckles, squeezing your waist before you whimpered.

once you came, it was so powerful. a bundle of nerves coursing all through your veins—you were speechless, breaking away from his lips before wrapping your arms around nanami. he found it cute at how you came a bit earlier than usual, but nonetheless he still made sure to praise you. “what a good girl,” he mutters in a husky voice before softly caressing your ass. “my good girl.”

𖢺 GOJO SATORU.

“pft. girl pleaseee,” gojo scoffs with a snort. he was so sassy, way too sassy for even his own good. he leaned back against the chair as you straddled his lap. “you wanna ride me while i wear my blindfold? easy, knock yourself out.”

“and you can’t touch me either,” you roll your eyes at him. he snickers with an attitude, not used to people matching his cocky energy.

a pout goes on his lips before he mutters, “whatever….fine,” and it’s so cute. he loved touching you whenever you rode him, so you can just imagine how he’d act right now. gojo sits up straight, and he watches as you drag his blindfold that was half on his face—moving it right down to shield his eyes. he can practically feel you glaring at him and he grumbles. “i won’t cheat or try anything, hmph.”

“good satoru.”

“the nerve,” he grouses cutely. “shut up.”

gojo grows quiet the moment you start to align yourself, he was definitely long. long and lengthy, staggering inches that was enough to stretch you out for hours. not even a second goes by and he whines once you make him pin his arms back.

perhaps he was a bit too cocky though, because he desperately wanted to grab onto your waist whilst you rode him. his tip was leaky, dripping profusely with his own pre-cum. his breathing was slow, becoming a bit irregular once you started to gradually sink down on his length.

“aw. for the strongest, he’s got such a cute little pout.” you tease, and he lets off a choked gasp once you start to move. you’d bet money gojo was glaring at you - but his eyes were hidden away, so you’d have no idea.

that made you smile, he lets off a husky groan the moment he feels you create up a slow yet steady pace. whether he wanted to admit it or not, gojo was no match for your hips. your hips, probably the only thing he’d fight against and lose. proudly though, he loved having you on top—despite being a brat about it or not. “heh, baby, if you’re gonna fuck me, go faster would ya? ‘m gonna fall asleep at this r-rate.”

and he literally eats his words the moment you push him back against the cushion. he found you doing things like this to be so hot. your pussy had him in a chokehold, no doubt. your torso was upright and your thighs briefly moved with your movements in sync. this angle, it had his head spinning. he wanted to touch you so bad, to see your face — but he couldn’t, and it made him pout even more.

“mhm. lot better.”

“do you ever shut up?” you snicker, leaning in to kiss near the corn ever of his mouth.

“so r-rude,” he’d moan, and he had to admit he was always quite talkative. especially during intimate times like this. each time you pressed a wet kisses against his mouth, his lips would twitch. he wanted more and more, becoming entirely greedy for more of your sweet touch. he was so shoved deep inside you, you felt him reach everywhere. his dick twitched inside you in more ways than you could count. “lucky i can’t see you right now. bet you got the most s-stupidest look on your face.”

“maybe i should have taped your mouth shut too.” you roll your eyes, swaying your hips in a circular addicting motion. it made gojo moan, his thighs aching for more as you continuously went against him.

“damn, that’s—kinda kinky,” he murmurs in a low tone, huffing out a single breath. “maybe you should have.”

despite gojo putting up a pompous front, trying to act like he’s not about to cum for the umpteenth time—you kiss near his neck to make him let off a moan. “you wanna touch me so bad.”you whisper, licking near his neck to hear his breathing hitch. you’re steady with your hips, and he swallows thickly before feeling himself start to approach that familiar finish. you’re so pressed up against him, your body heat forevermore clashes against his. the moment you jerk forward for about the dozenth time, gojo whines before he ends up shooting inside your cunt.

he’s panting heavily, heaving as he trickles ropes inside of you — you moan yourself as he stays still. your hips pause and he feels the tips of his ears grow a scorching hot. “i can feel ya smiling at me,” he grumbles, his abs flexing the more huffed breaths he took. you smile, kissing underneath his chin for a final time before removing his blindfold. his hair was all messy and ruffled, and gojo’s face grows flustered. “…don’t look at me like that. i’d still top you any day.”

“okay, princess. whatever you say..”

“….”

𖢺 SUGURU GETO.

“go ahead ‘n lie back,” he murmurs in a soft smooth voice. a voice that had you soaking from underneath. your panties were still on, just barely though.

with strings lazily pulled to the side, you were propped up against geto and he has his chin softly resting on your collarbone.

“good girl,” he whispers once your back meets direct contact with his chest. by this point, you were basically cockwarming him. he stood tall and still inside you—geto groans, nipping a kiss near the inner part of your neck before uttering, “you have that toy i bought for you, angel?”

“y-yes,” you immediately reply. your voice was so shaky and soft. just a few touches from geto and you were easily stumbling over your words.

he feels you reach beside him, near the nightstand to grab the pretty pink wand he bought you as a surprise. not even wanting to waste time, you turn the switch on and with a loud buzz — it vibrates a singing tune.

“suguru,” you’d whimper out, trying to move your hips but he holds you steady in place. “can i move please?”

“you may,” he says in a low undertone. he brings a hand over you and grabs onto your wrist. you let off a moan once he holds the toy with you, bringing it between your achey clit. “spread your legs a little bit more for me. good, perfect.”

you gasp, feeling him gently rub the head of the toy against your clit whilst you were starting to grind. geto groans, feeling your left hand dig into his thigh.

“s-suguruuu,” you’d sob out, your lips cutely pursing together. he was very much thick, your thighs quivered and quavered from the sensitive stimulation. “fuck, ‘s good. turn it up a little more p-pretty please.”

he smiles, hearing you use such graceful manners like a good girl — his good girl.

geto goes through with your wish, turning the level up a single notch and you moan. sucking in a sharp breath, this position was so lewd. riding geto in reverse, it was heavily g-spot friendly. you went slow, moving your hips in the same recurrent rotation. it makes him bite his lip, his eyes flickering down towards your ass.

“so good for me,” he whispers against your ear. yet that’s when geto pulls you closer into him, biting softly near your neck. the vibrations had you trembling all in his lap, every nerve throughout your body, you felt its presence introduce itself.

geto snickers, feeling you grab onto his hand, moving the toy up and down against the entrance of your clit. in such a sensual manner too—he starts to whisper such filthy things against your ear while you’re getting off. “hear how wet you are for me, baby? so sloppy. pussy’s just talkin’ back to me. no fuckin’ manners, ‘s kinda cute.”

his words, it was so dirty.

you could barely process anything. you panted, staring right in front where a mirror was stood tall. the lewd reflection of you, you’re laid back against geto’s bare chest, slowly rotating your hips. your legs start to shake more and more from the toy’s vibration. teeth clenching, eyelids lowering, it was purely euphoric..

geto’s knees were raised just a bit to better support himself, and he brings a hand around your waist. his touch, it never failed to make you weak. he filled your pussy up with so many thick inches of his cock, his girth nearly had you drooling.

“easy, girl,” he whispers once you start to fasten your pace a bit. you were getting so close, you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. his words stirred up butterflies in your stomach, and you moan once geto moves the toy aside just to take matters into his own hands. he starts to rub against your slick entrance himself, feeling just how soaked you were, mindlessly throbbing.

if it was anything geto was good with, it was his fingers. he snickers against your ear, maneuvering sweet circles against your cunt before your thighs start to lock and tremble. by this point, you were slowing down and you whimpered, feeling a familiar feeling brew up.

milliseconds later, he coaxed an orgasm out of you like it was nothing. your body felt limp, and you cutely went back against him, pant after pant. “awww,” geto hums, and his dick remains still inside of you. geto removed his lengthy fingers, only to bring them towards your face. “open wide for me, baby. taste how much of a mess you made on me,” and without a second of hesitation, you part your lips, moving your tongue, and take his fingers right into your mouth. you moaned, making your hips start up again because you wanted more — it was salacious, tasting your sweetness all on his fingers, lapping it up. “such a messy baby. should make you clean my cock up next with that pretty tongue of yours.”

𖢺 TOJI FUSHIGURO.

with toji, he’d have you riding him whilst he’s watching some movie or tv show. it’s playing in the background, and he has to keep turning the volume up notch after notch to drown out your cute moans. “doll, y’er gonna make me miss the good part.”

you huff out a single hitched breath, wrapping your arms over him. it was your idea to ride him, he didn’t mind, not in the slightest. toji was smoking too — a perfectly rolled up blunt sticking out near the corner of his lips. toji brings a rough hand towards your head, giving you a stiff pat.

he was so big, regardless of how many countless times you took him. you could never get used to his size. his cock stretched your walls out so easily, it had you drooling for more.

his base thwacked against you the more you piston your hips, moving back and forth in a repetitive rhythm. toji’s attention was mainly focused on the movie, a raspy chortle leaving his lips from the cheesy written dialogue.

he spots you glaring at him and he smirks. “what? can’t you see i’m busy.”

“pay attention to me,” you whine, and toji only snickers at your cute needy tone. your pussy wrapped around him, a tight snug and an even more perfect fit. your rhythm was smooth, it was a perfect mixture of not too slow — yet not too fast either.

as you stared into toji’s dark eyes, his senses was severely heightened and he takes the blunt from his lips before raising a brow. “gimme a kiss.”

“eh. don’t gotta give you shit,” he mocks your tone, making a pout form in your lips. he was such an insufferable tease, his left hand spanks your ass sharply, earning out a sweet whimper from you. toji caresses it afterwards, only to spank it again. “say pretty please. go ‘head, talk to me nice, little girl.”

you cutely glare before looking down, clawing near his perfectly toned chest. “i— can i have a kiss, pretty please?”

“it’s may i, not can i.”

“toji!”

he slyly smiles, rolling his dark green eyes. “i’m just fuckin’ with you,” and he brings a hand towards your ass yet again. his touch was so smooth, tracing your curves gingerly all against your waist. “c’mere ’n open y’er mouth.” he was balls deep, buried to the hilt and he lightly groans from feeling your warmth swallow him.

you were so toasty inside, you inch closer towards his face before opening your mouth slightly. toji licks his lips briefly, his tongue dragging against his scar before he blows smoke right into your mouth. you whine again from his teasing and he smirks. “oh. the baby’s still not satisfied?”

“want a kiss,” you pout, your weight just hovering over him. he felt your rhythm slow down and he chuckles — seeing you grow frustrated with your eyebrows curling into an irritated furrow. toji grabs your chin, and he pulls you right into him. you moaned, feeling him smack your ass to start riding him again. “t-toji please.”

“such a needy baby. always wanting a kiss,” and he gives you that kiss you so desperately yearned for. you whimper in his mouth, tasting how sweet he was. he places his blunt back near his tray and you were handsy, wrapping both arms over him. he chuckles, feeling you start to rock against him, his swollen cock was so fat inside of you—you just imagined the thought of him dumping yet another sloppy load into you. toji grunts, feeling you start to suck on his tongue, he leans back against the sofa while you deepen the kiss even further.

he groans, a hand curling around your throat, softly running a finger down the middle part of your neck before he briefly pulls away. toji’s eyes were half-lidded and right before he was about to finish inside of you, he pushes you aside to stare at the movie. black end credits were rolling and he grumbles. “tch. made me miss the ending.”

“s-sorry.” you mumble, catching your breath. you clearly wanted more . . still, he was stuffing you full with thick inches of his cock. you let off a gasp once toji lightly jostled you off of him. you land with a ‘oof’ — face flat on the sofa before he brings your ass a spank.

“yeah right,” he grumbles, grabbing his blunt again to stick it right between his teeth. he sucks through the air of the joint before groaning at your teasing arch. “know one way you can make it up to me. jus’ bend over ‘n face straight just for me, girl.”

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