#copper water filters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlwiththepapatattoo · 1 year

Text

you see through me what lies beyond

Fandom: Legend of Zelda

Pairings: Ganondorf/Female Reader

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, embarrassment, some feels, messing a bit with canon

Notes: Here, have 13k words of Ganondorf smut lmao. This was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that you all enjoy! (If anyone sees any errors, feel free to point them out!)

Read on Ao3 here!

////////////////////////////////////////////

Awareness comes to you slowly, a drift of your senses waking, as though they were asleep for decades rather than a full night’s rest. Touch comes first: the sleek softness of silk sheets under your hands, against your fingertips, smooth against your bare legs. You weren’t wearing what you normally did to sleep, either: enfolding your form is what feels like a nightdress, also made of silk.

Next comes your hearing. It’s raining outside, the gentle taps of water on a glass windowpane from somewhere nearby periodically drowned by the distant rumble of thunder. The crackle of a nearby fire filters in, gentle and welcoming.

Whatever wood is in the fireplace (it can’t be a campfire, you wouldn’t be on this plush bed) is fragrant as your sense of smell returns. Other scents filter in: leather, old books, and closer to you, some sort of spice mixed with sandalwood and copper. It’s alluring, making your nostrils flare.

Your eyes flick open. There’s only a hint of firelight coming through the almost-sheer, black drapes on the gigantic four poster bed that was most certainly not your own.

You swallow thickly, your heart-rate picking up as you realize that, wherever you are, it’s not home.

Mattress creaking gently as you sit up, the strap to the nightgown you’ve been changed into slides down one shoulder, the soft touch making you shiver in your unease. You pull it back up and carefully ease yourself over to the edge of the bed, reaching one hand out and shifting one gauzy curtain to the side.

Bookcases line the walls, filled with tomes that look both recent (though not modern) and ancient. Candles flicker on nearby tables, safely away from the books. What walls aren’t covered in books have tapestries hanging, depicting what looks like a desert fortress on one, a great battle on another. A plush, dark red carpet surrounds the bed, and also the giant armchair in front of the crackling fireplace.

“Are you going to sit there all day, woman?” comes a sudden voice. You jump as you realize that there’s someone sitting in the chair. “Come here.”

The voice is low, a bass growl, commanding your attention and action all at once. Swallowing hard once more, you stand, taking a moment as your legs wobble.

“Ah, yes. Travel is hard on mortals without power. Your strength should return soon.”

“...w-where am I?” you ask, more fear in your voice than you’d like.

A soft chuckle meets your ears, and you wish you found the rumble of his voice much less attractive than you did. “I think you are smart enough to know once you see my face. Come.”

You feel goosebumps spread over your shoulders, and not just from the sudden cold stone floor under your bare feet as you step forward. Hesitantly, you approach the great armchair, standing at a distance away that you feel fairly safe from whoever’s in it. Of course, you don’t know if he has a weapon, gun or otherwise…but you’ll take what reassurance you can get right now.

You take a deep breath, then finally take your last step forward and turn to face the man in the chair. A gasp of disbelieving shock leaves your lips, your eyes wide in recognition.

A massive frame fills the chair, the man before you the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life. Legs nearly as thick as your own torso are crossed comfortably at the ankles, stretched out along the carpet to warm his bare feet in front of the fire. The glint of a gold anklet shines briefly. A core thick with strength, leads up to mountainous shoulders, biceps you don’t think your fingers would meet around, distractingly strong forearms, hands that rival dinner plates in size. One hand is closed in a fist, upon which is propped a red-bearded jaw. Your eyes roam over smirking lips, a large and dignified nose, and finally the golden eyes that pierce through yours…

Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, Bearer of the Triforce of Power, sits before you.

You know you’re gaping, mouth hanging open in shock. His smirk widens just a hair as his eyes roam your form. “It seems I was right. That shade of red is lovely on you.”

You pinch yourself hard on the arm. The pain makes you hiss, and he laughs, a soft, amused rumble that you can almost feel in your skin.

“Do you think yourself dreaming? I suppose you must. Power such as mine has no place in your world, after all.”

“Y-You…you can’t be real,” you finally gasp. “That’s not…”

“Possible? I assure you, little one, I am as real as you are.” The hand not pressed to his jaw lifts up a golden goblet, and he sips at the contents within, his golden stare not leaving yours. He licks a droplet of crimson wine from his lips before setting the drink down on an end table next to him.

You suddenly feel very vulnerable, standing before such a man in nothing but a thin silk nightgown. Your hands clench nervously in the material. “W-Why am I…w-what happened to my pajamas?”

His air turns amused, though his gaze loses little intensity. “Would you prefer I seduce you whilst you wear pink clothes with kittens on them? No, I much prefer you in something like this, something more…elegant. Sensual.”

His words feel like a lightning bolt just hit your spine, and you feel a hot blush spread over your cheeks. “W-Wait, you–what did—”

Another rumble of laughter escapes his throat. “Oh, yes, red is certainly your color.” He shifts, sitting up and bracing his forearms on his thick thighs. Muscles ripple as he moves, one half of his torso bared from his robes, the firelight playing over darkly tanned skin. “Come here.”

One huge finger points to a spot just before his feet. Your knees tremble at the thought of being so close to him, but you can’t make yourself move.

His eyes glint as you stay put, and instead of getting angry like you expected, he simply chuckles. “Stunned, are you? Not an unreasonable reaction. But I am a patient man, when I wish to be.”

“Why am I here?!” you finally blurt, before gasping and clapping your hands over your mouth.

He laughs fully now, one massive hand splaying over his stomach in his mirth. “Oh, how adorable you are! Why do you think you’re here?” He smiles, wide, delighted, a hunger in the expression that makes you swallow. “I have lived, in one form or another, for a very long time. You pick up a few secrets of the universe when you have an awareness that spans over ten thousand years.” He leans back in his chair once more, propping his bearded cheek on his fist again. “I know there are universes, dimensions, whatever you want to call them, that are not my own. I know that some of those dimensions touch mine in some small way. You know exactly who I am…and you know exactly what you want from me.”

Your face goes sheet white, and then beet red. “W-Wait, t-that’s–”

“Oh yes. I’ve felt your desire for me clear across worlds, my flustered little admirer,” he purrs. “Your overwhelming need for pleasure at my hands…” To your surprise, he huffs a little. “To put it frankly, it is very distracting. I have important plans to oversee, which I cannot be doing when every ten minutes I hear your desire for my mouth to–”

“S-STOP, STOP I GET IT!” you cry, quaking in embarrassment.

His grin is pure dark mischief. “I truly wonder if you do though.” He’s quiet a moment, just watching you stew in your mortification. You hate this, hate the fact that he’s already gotten you so riled up…

And by hate, of course, you mean love.

“You have two options,” he suddenly says, and the tone in his voice is commanding, ordering you to listen. You couldn’t not listen if you tried. “Either I send you home, right now, to live out your boring little life, never knowing what wonders I could have shown you…” He smirks, teeth flashing for a moment in the firelight, glinting off the pronounced fang of one canine. “Or…I take you. I make you mine, little one. I fuck you so thoroughly and so well that I will ruin you for other men the rest of your life. I will prove that even your persistent daydreams pale in comparison to the real thing.” His eyes flick away from you, looking into the fire, almost dismissive of you standing there, shivering in arousal. “But the choice is yours.”

He picks up his goblet again, sipping at the contents within, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s a part of you that’s almost angry at how he can be so casual after completely turning your world upside down…after giving you such a difficult choice to make on the spot.

“C-Could I…?” His eyes flick to you, the golden, expectant stare making you shiver for a moment before you take a deep breath and try again. “Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“I’d be concerned if you did not,” comes the amused answer. You blink in surprised confusion, and for the first time, a hint of anger enters his eyes. “I know, from these desires of yours, that you think me more than some one-note villain. My goal may be conquering Hyrule once and for all, and I may think nothing of the pawns I use to achieve that goal, but one thing I am not, nor will I ever be, is a rapist.” His nostrils flare in his ire, one lip curling in disgust. “I may have brought you here, but I will not force you. You are free to ask questions, and you are free to say no, without fear of violence from me.”

In spite of this bizarre situation, in spite of the man before you, you can feel your shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”

He flicks his hands dismissively at your words, before looking towards the flames once more. “Ask your questions.”

“Can…” You swallow hard. “If I say yes, is there…some sort of protection we’ll use? Can you get me pregnant?”

He chuckles, that low rumble you wish didn’t do funny things to your belly. “I have sired many children during these eons. Yes, I can get you with child, and yes, there is protection.” He opens the drawer of the end-table and draws out a small medallion on a length of soft cord. A simple golden triangle gleams in the firelight, much like his eyes do. “There’s a charm of protection on that. Wear it the entire time, and my seed will not take within you.”

He tosses it to you, and you nearly fumble it away before securing it in your grasp. Flushing, you hold it tightly to your chest. “Thank you.” You take another deep breath. “If I…say yes…what happens after? I just go home?”

“Yes…if that is what you wish.” He smirks, stretching out his long body again, and you fight to keep your eyes on his and not on the wonderful play of muscles under his skin. “As I said, magic does not belong in your world. If, after I make you mine, you find that you just cannot live without feeling my touch again…well, I cannot come to your home myself. As it is, it took a great deal of power to bring you here to begin with.”

He shakes his head, though there’s an expression on his face that’s almost...curious. As if he has an academic interest in the subject. “The way that the walls of your dimension fight my sorcery is, admittedly, fascinating. I would like to study it properly someday.”

He seems to come back to himself, his eyes focusing on you again. “After I have shown you what it will truly be like to lie with me, you may decide you wish to stay for a time. I would allow that. Truthfully, I would be amenable to having a woman at my side who is not terrified of me. How long I would want you here is still up for debate.”

You nod slowly, your mind trying to fly into the well of possibilities. But you stop it almost before it begins: you aren’t here to be his equal, his partner. You’re here to warm his bed, to stop being…a distraction.

Your eyes widen as it really hits you. You aren’t here because he saw something special in you, or because of some hidden talent. You’re here because you were so pathetically desperate for this man that it actually breached dimensions. Your eyes fill with tears as humiliation rises in your chest.

Ganondorf blinks in surprise as you look away, your shoulders beginning to shake. “I…I-I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” you say, your voice thick with barely held-back sobs. “I…never knew you really…were real, and I…never wanted to annoy you. I-I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you, before he heaves a sigh. You don’t see him move, but you hear his chair creak. Before you know it he’s swept you up into his arms. You yelp in surprise through your tears–no one’s ever picked you up like this before. “Hush,” he says, though his voice is softer and not unkind. He sits back down, setting you across his lap, and one huge hand presses to your head, forcing your cheek to rest on his chest. Were you not so upset, you’d have loved to enjoy it.

“...I think, perhaps, I have worded something wrong,” he murmurs after a minute of silence. “I am not displeased to be the recipient of your affections, little one. On the contrary, I have been planning this night for some weeks.” His fingers, warm and surprisingly soothing, stroke gently over your cheek. “I was impressed with the depths of your affection, of how strong your feelings are. For them to reach across the dimensional veils…that is no small feat. Were you born here, I could see you being a great sorceress.” You can hear the faint smile in his voice. “In fact, were you to stay, you may yet develop magic of your own. But that is neither here nor there.” He tilts your head up with a gentle finger under your chin, and a careful thumb wipes your tears away. “No more of this, hm?”

“So…” You swallow thickly. “So I’m not here just because I was…distracting you?”

He laughs softly, a gentle rumble of amusement that you almost feel more than hear, like velvet over a rockslide. “No, that is far from the only reason.” He snorts in amusement. “You know who some of my past servants have been. You must remember Zant. In comparison, your attentions would have been a breath of fresh air.”

You can’t help but laugh, and his lips twitch up faintly. He begins idly twirling a piece of your hair through his fingers, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “But I also need you to understand: beyond your affection for me, I have no idea who you are. So do not expect more feelings from me other than lust and some vague fondness. I say this not to be cruel, it is simply the truth.”

You give a hard sniff, but you nod. “Yeah, I get it. This isn’t…” Your eyes widen. “This really isn’t one of my fantasies, you’re…you’re real and here and–” He watches with a smug smirk as your blush deepens rapidly. “A-And I’m sitting on your lap oh my god.”

He laughs, a deeper, full-throated sound that makes you hide your face behind your hands. “You are adorable, all flustered like this. You turn such pretty colors so easily…”

“A-Anyway!” You know he’s grinning down at you, but you forge on with your point. “Y-Yeah, so, this is real and you’re not just pixels. You’re a real person, with agency, and I…I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t wanna do just because my thoughts were um…loud.”

The look in his eyes plainly says that you couldn’t make him do anything he wouldn’t want to anyway, but he still nods to you. “I appreciate the sentiment, and return it.” He brings the lock of hair he was still toiling with to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the strands, his golden gaze still boring into your own. He sees the way your breath hitches, and it makes a soft rumble of interest emanate from his chest. “The things I want to do to you…” he all but growls, and a candle of desire bursts to life in your lower belly.

In a flash, he’s turned you on his lap. Your back presses to his chest, the top of your head tucked up under his chin…and your legs are spread around his thighs. You gasp in surprise, at how fast that was, at how vulnerable this feels, spread wide over his closed legs, the nightgown pulling up so that most of your thighs are on display. “O-Oh, f-fuck, I–”

He chuckles darkly, lowering his head to press his bearded cheek to yours. “What a mouth you have…” he purrs, enjoying the way that you shiver at the prickle of his facial hair. “I look forward to finding out what else it is capable of…”

Your eyes slam shut as a wave of lust washes over you. His voice, the tone, the suggestive words…he was right: none of your fantasies are measuring up to the real thing, and the fun hasn’t even started yet!

One huge hand splays over your belly suddenly, the warmth of him felt easily through the thin fabric. He feels your abs jump under his touch, and a pleased grin pulls at his lips. You can feel it, feel it when he smiles against your skin.

Your body is burning already.

“You are very sensitive…” The thumb of his free hand suddenly caresses over the top of your thigh, and a gasp bursts out of your throat without permission. He’s tall enough, his frame dwarfing yours enough that he can get a full view of the front of your body, and his grin widens to see the skin of both thighs pimpled in goosebumps. To see the juts of your hardened nipples pressing against the silk they’re hidden in. “Beautiful…oh, I am going to enjoy playing with you…”

“I-I’m so…y-you feel so good,” you breathe, and then blush darkly as you realize what you said and turn your face away in embarrassment.

He chuckles deeply, lifting the hand that had touched your thigh to stroke a thumb along your jawline, making you exhale hard. Then his lips press to your neck, his nose brushing over your jaw, his beard a wonderful scrape on your skin, and the sound that bursts from your throat…it isn’t like any sound you’ve ever made in your life.

He feels you tremble on him, enjoying the way your skin flushes in arousal all the way down your chest. He presses a line of achingly slow kisses up and down the column of your throat, and with each caress of soft, warm lips your body becomes more and more impatient.

You open your mouth to beg him to do something more, but the only thing that comes out is a desperate cry as he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

You writhe on his lap, heat racing over your skin, every inch of you shivering in need at feeling his teeth in your flesh, at the almost-but-not-quite harsh pressure, at the points of his canines. They could easily break the skin…but they don’t, and the strength and control he has is just another source of arousal for you.

You can feel sweat beading in your hairline as he removes his teeth, and you shudder and whine softly as his tongue gives a lap over where he just bit. “My marks will look good on you,” he praises, caressing his nose over the side of your neck almost fondly. “I am eager to leave more…”

“P-Please,” you gasp, unaware in the haze of your pleasure that you were wriggling your hips, trying to get some sort of friction where you most need it.

“Hm. I want you to tell me if this gets painful for you.”

“W-What?”

Your legs are still spread over his thighs, your toes almost tucked behind his knees, which were pressed together this whole time. But now he pulls them apart, opening his own legs so that yours spread even wider. You gasp loudly as you feel the relatively cooler air of the room against your overheated core, against the slickness coating your underwear. He feels a shudder work its way up your spine as his legs stop.

You feel somehow even more vulnerable, the edges of the nightgown hiked up to where your legs connect to your torso. There’s a slight burn to your hips from how wide he’s spread you open, but it’s one you know will fade if you let it. You sit there shivering, panting; in all your life, you’ve never felt arousal like this before.

“How are you feeling, my beautiful one?” he rasps. You know, deep in the part of your mind that’s not completely taken with lust, that he’s affected by this too. The gravel that’s suffused his voice is evidence enough of that, even if you couldn’t feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your backside.

“Good,” you manage to gasp out. “I feel so good, everything’s so…so sensitive. I need…I-I need you…”

He nuzzles once more into your neck, making you shudder on him. “And you will have me…but not quite yet. I am going to take my time with you, take you apart piece by piece…”

His hands, his massive hands, suddenly curve over the soft skin of your thighs. His skin is calloused but warm, providing a wonderful, gentle scrape of sensation that leaves you shivering all over again. He feels your muscles jump under his touch, and he smiles once more against your neck. “I want you to tell me, lovely one, about your favorite fantasy.”

You have to fight to push through the haze of lust enough to really understand his words, and they bring a flush of embarrassment to your face. “I-I’m sure you’ve…you’ve heard it…”

“I have,” he replies agreeably, and he gives your thighs a gentle squeeze, enjoying the way you quiver at the sudden pressure. “But I want to hear it from you in person.”

You swallow thickly, trying to form words, trying to make your mouth work to tell him what he wants. But you’re too overwhelmed, too embarrassed to speak the words out loud.

He, however, has no such qualms.

“Speechless I see…hmm, well, I can understand that. It is our first time together, and you are unused to such…lust.” His hands begin to rub slowly, softly, up and down your thighs, the roughness of his callouses making you shudder and twitch. His fingertips get closer and closer to your core with each pass. “So I shall speak the words you cannot.”

“A-Ah, um, you really d-don’t have to,” you reply, your voice a quaking whisper.

He chuckles darkly, brushing the tip of his nose playfully down the shell of your ear. “And leave such a good idea to the recesses in your mind where your fantasies play? No, beautiful one, such…creativity should be shared.” His fingernails begin to gently scritch at your skin, and he feels your toes curl hard against his calves.

“I have you suspended in the air, caught up in magical binds. Your legs are spread and bent, as if squatting, your hands behind your back to push those lovely tits out for my enjoyment. You are blindfolded, but not gagged, so that I may hear each sound I drag out of you. A series of three wooden cocks are taking turns pushing deep into you, guided by magic as well. One is fully smooth, one has large bumps over its surface, and one has a set of ridges. You also have a small plug in that lovely ass, which I make shift every so often just to remind you that it’s there.”

His words come slowly, smoothly, as if reading from the morning newspaper, and listening him describing the debauchery you’ve come up with in that deep, sonorous voice is making your clit throb.

“The entire time, I watch from a nearby seat, telling you my every thought of your body and how it’s being pleasured. And once in a while I float you over to me, so that I may drink of your pleasure, and admonish you for dripping on my pants.”

The last part is said in a growl, and one huge hand suddenly cups you firmly between your legs. A cry tears from your throat at the sudden delicious force, and your hips buck toward his touch desperately, seeking any sort of friction you can get.

He laughs as he gives a gentle squeeze to your mound, a smug smile tugging his lips up as you almost gurgle at the pressure where you need it the most. “Dripping indeed…we will not be able to salvage your small-clothes, my beautiful little faucet.”

While his left hand cups you, his right begins slowly working up your body, stroking here, gripping there, until his fingers splay just under your breasts. By now, your desire has been stoked into an inferno. Your hips can’t stop rolling into his touch, though he does nothing but cup you and give a soft squeeze every so often. Your torso arches into his hand, begging without words for him to finally touch you, take your desperate body the way you need.

You’re pretty sure that you’d do whatever he asked right now, if only he’d bring you to your peak. And with a man like Ganondorf, that’s a dangerous place to be…

The hand on your chest moves, and your face flushes darkly as he tugs the hem of the silk nightgown down, baring your flesh to his hungry gaze. “Lovely…” he purrs, and he finally, finally cups his hand around your right breast.

You cry out his name as he gives a gentle squeeze, your achingly-hard nipple scraping against his palm, the feeling enough to have your words breaking free in a frantic ramble. “Yes yes yes please, Ganondorf, please I-AH!”

“Unfortunately,” he says, as if you’re not losing your mind at his touch, “my magic is not suitable for telekinesis, so your fantasy cannot come true. At least, from a magical source.” He smirks, kneading your breast in his hand. “Thankfully, there are other ways to hold you in midair.”

Quaking and whimpering in his hands, your own raise. He hadn’t said that you couldn’t touch him. So you reach behind yourself, cupping your hands eagerly around the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself to earth, to bring the frenzied need of your body down a notch. His skin is so warm under yours, and you feel his beautiful, fiery hair gently brushing over the backs of your fingers.

It works, though, your mind lifting a little from the haze of lust you’d been drowning in. You start to take slower breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. It wouldn’t do to pass out your first time with the Demon King.

He lets you, lets you get a little of your breath back…but not for long.

Two fingers suddenly press to your clothed folds, the drenched fabric pushing against your outer lips, and with a firm but teasing pressure, rise up your slit. At this angle, he only gets the barest hint of pressure over your clit before his fingers part, dragging back down to press over your entrance and then repeat the process.

All your muscles, from your toes to your fingers, clench in desperate need as your hips thrust toward his teasing touch. A broken-sounding sob is wrenched from your throat, and he growls softly as your nails dig into his neck, closing his eyes to enjoy the tiny bite of pain as his fingers continue their circuit.

Sweat drips down your spine, sticking your skin to his chest as he works your body into a frenzy. You can feel your inner-most thighs becoming absolutely drenched in your own slick, his fingers gliding easily over the ruined fabric. “I believe…you are ready for your first peak,” he purrs. “I have teased you long enough. I do not wish to be cruel…at least, not more than you can handle, anyway.”

“P-Please, please,” you gasp.

“So polite…”

His hand at your core shifts, and there’s the sudden tearing of fabric as he rips your underwear away. He chuckles darkly, teeth glinting in the firelight, as he holds up the drenched, ruined scrap of cloth to examine it. “Long enough indeed…look at me.”

That tone of voice can only be obeyed, and you turn your head, letting your eyes meet his. That golden gaze spears you, and maintaining devastating eye contact the whole time, he lifts the sodden scrap to his lips and takes a long, slow lick. You turn crimson and break the gaze to look away, but his hand leaves your breast to grip your chin, turning your face back to him. “I said, look at me, my pet,” he growls, before licking again.

You squirm on his lap, and he growls in pleasure at both your taste bursting on his tongue, and the way your ass rubs against his cock through the thin material of his pants. You suddenly hear a rather wet sounding splat as he tosses the ruined underclothes away. “Be ready,” he rasps into your ear.

And that’s all the warning you get. A giant arm wraps fully around your middle, and without any more preamble, one thick finger slides deeply into your sloppy cunt. You scream his name, and he grunts at feeling your walls clench and grip his finger. He has to fight the urge to just slam you down onto his cock now.

You’re more than slick enough for even a finger of his size to move easily, and so he pumps you, a slow but steady pace, the arm around your waist preventing you from moving overmuch. Your hips didn’t get the memo though, bucking towards the questing digit, but unable to get much friction from the way he’s clamped you down.

The next time he pulls out, two fingers press back in, stretching your walls. “FUCK!” you shout, the curse involuntary. He laughs, dark and menacing as he pumps slowly back into you, and once the last set of his knuckles press to your folds, he wiggles his fingers. You sob his name, a broken prayer to your dark god as he works your body open.

And then he stops playing.

His fingers suddenly piston in and out, a rapid pace that fills with air with the lewd squelch of your sopping walls welcoming and releasing his intrusion. His thumb presses to your clit and rubs rapid circles over the throbbing bud, and your orgasm rises so fast that you stop breathing. The pressure builds and builds in your core, an endless wind up until you feel like your body is going to break apart with its force. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing in the circle of his arm.

And then your world explodes.

Your vision bursts into white light, your hearing cuts out with a sharp whine, and your awareness of your own body has been reduced to nothing but the raging torrent of pleasure emanating from your cunt. You don’t hear it, but you can feel him growling against your back, the deep reverberation feeling more bestial than man. His fingers don’t stop, and he laughs in triumph as your walls squeeze him so hard that you squirt, your slick splattering along his hand and the floor at his feet.

You don’t know how long he keeps you flying. When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting sideways on his lap, cradled in the warmth of his arms, your face nestled into his chest. Your muscles ache softly, the sort of ache you usually only feel after a long workout…and you supposed this definitely counted. “G-Gan…?” you rasp, your throat sore from screaming.

“Ah, you’ve returned,” he says softly. One hand leaves off curling gently around your hip, and he conjures a warm cup of tea. “Here, drink. It will soothe you.”

You peel your eyes open, and your arms shake a little as you take the cup from him, tiny in his huge hands. He keeps one finger underneath it just in case, and you sip deeply, your eyes closing again as the perfectly warm liquid slides over your sore throat. Warmth seems to cling to the affected areas in your esophagus, and you realize that in short order, your throat feels completely fine. “That’s some great tea,” you murmur as you finish it.

He chuckles softly. “A favorite blend of mine, with a bit of healing potion mixed in.” The tea cup disappears, and he brushes a fond kiss over your forehead. “How do you feel now?”

You flush darkly, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips even if you wanted to. “I…I feel wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

He smirks faintly, a smugness to his lips that you very much would like to kiss away. “I would be very surprised if you have, my beautiful one.”

Your blush doesn’t abate, and for the first time since you realize you were here with Ganondorf, you speak to him as if he were…normal. “You’re going to be so smug about this, aren’t you?”

He throws his head back and laughs, a full-throated belly laugh that, despite your wanting to stay vaguely annoyed with him, has you grinning. “Oh, insufferably!” He grins, his eyes glinting in mirth as he leans down and playfully bites at your cheek. “But I do believe I’ve earned it.”

You gasp and laugh at his bite, before pausing. His face is close to yours, his breath fanning over your jaw, warm and somehow…comforting. Here you are, sitting in the lap of the main villain from one of your favorite game series…and there’s no fear. In fact, it’s very much the opposite of fear. And that worries you, a bit. Because Ganondorf has the moniker ‘The King of Evil’ for a reason.

He watches the happiness dim slightly in your eyes, and one thumb comes up to gently caress over your cheek. “Are you well?”

You try for a smile. You’re not sure how successful you are. “Oh, um…yes, I’m all right.”

He snorts, propping his bearded jaw on his fist and giving you an unimpressed look. “You are a bad liar.”

“Yeah…”

“What is wrong?”

“...nothing that I think can be fixed, Ganondorf. I think talking about it would just make you angry and me frustrated…and I don’t want this night to end on a note like that.”

His lips thin out at your answer. “That is a very diplomatic way of saying nothing at all. Perhaps instead of bedding you, I should hire you to improve public relations.”

You scowl faintly. “Maybe you should! Maybe that way…” Like you’d predicted, frustrated tears spring to your eyes, and you slide off his lap. Your legs tremble visibly, your body still recovering from the incredible orgasm he’d given you. You pad away from him, adjusting the nightgown to cover yourself once more.

You hear the chair creek as he stands, and after a moment his hands, warm and wonderful, come to rest on your shoulders. “...you are not of this world,” he rumbles down to you, thumbs gently rubbing circles at the base of your neck that you wish didn’t feel so good, “and as such I have no right to judge you for your opinion on me and what I do. If it were someone from this world, then yes, I would be angry. Furious even. But from what little I have gleaned, your world can see all sides of the story, not just what people are told in hushed whispers over meager fires.” You hear him sigh, and his tone becomes tight. “I…apologize for pushing. You did warn me, after all.”

It sounds like it takes a lot for him to say the words. Honestly, you’re faintly surprised that he apologized at all. You’re softening, you can feel it, and your lips curl into a resigned, almost amused smile at your own expense.

You turn in his hands, looking up at him and gently wrapping your own hands around his wrists. “Ganondorf…you must know that I care about you for more than what you can do for me…in bed. I do believe that your…” You fall quiet, and he can see in your eyes the uncertainty of whether or not you should continue. He gives you a gentle nudge, nodding for you to go on. You take a deep breath. “I do believe that your original goal, back in…well, I guess you’d call it the Time Era? Maybe?” You shake your head. “Shit’s complicated.”

His lips twitch at your vulgarity. “Shit is indeed complicated,” he says wryly, and you can’t help but snort a surprised laugh.

“Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to be stern!” His amused smirk widens a hair, and he mimes buttoning his lips. You huff at him, then forge on. “I think your original goal was noble. You wanted a better life for your people, wanted your sisters out of the desert that’s incredibly harsh to live in. But the Power…went to your head. You lost sight of your goal, of your people, and all you wanted was more power and to rule over everything with an iron fist, and it’s just like. What’s the point of that?” Your eyes glint, and he’s surprised to see you becoming angry. “Let’s say you take over everything, rule as a tyrant, great, congrats. What then? What was your plan? Just sit on your throne, hoard the world like a dragon, be cruel for cruelty’s sake? Wouldn’t that get boring after a while? You have everything, there’s nothing left to accomplish, you can’t tell me that would make you happy!”

He stares down at you, and there’s no emotion in his face whatsoever. It’s quiet for a long moment, before his nostrils flare and there’s an odd look to his eyes. Part of it seems to be approval, oddly enough. He seems impressed with the tenacity of your words at the very least. But the other part is a rising anger…though not, perhaps at you. “...you feel very strongly about this,” he finally murmurs.

You flush faintly, and offer him a shrug. “Yeah, I do. I grew up with this world, Ganondorf, it’s important to me. You’re…important to me.” Your blush deepens at the confession, and you hold your hands up. “A-And I know, I remember what you said earlier. But yes, I do feel strongly about this.”

He can’t help a soft, almost wry chuckle, before he snaps his fingers. On one of the tables nearby suddenly appears a small feast, an array of foods that’s already making your mouth water. “Let us eat. You need to recover your strength before we continue…if that is what you wish. As we eat, I will…explain something to you.”

With a hand on your lower back, he guides you to sit at his right hand. Before you settle down into the richly stained oak chair, he smirks at you and conjures a towel for you to sit on. You flush crimson, and he chuckles darkly, before you both sit and begin to pile food onto your plate. “Partake lightly, my beauty. Too full a stomach will be…uncomfortable for you, to say the least.”

You shiver faintly. After what he already did to you, you can only imagine…

And so you took mostly fruits and a little meat, staying away from the bread and the pastries, as much as you’d like to indulge in some carbs. You couldn’t pass up the chocolate covered strawberries though.

Once both your plates are ready, you look at him expectantly. He sighs, lounging in the huge chair, his brow furrowed with the weight of the distant past. “The problem, beautiful one, with coming from a world that only touches mine is that you do not know each reincarnation cycle. These…games of yours, did not cover everything. But how could they? They have not been out long enough to cover the length of time I have been alive in one form or another.”

He takes a sip of wine, looking down into the swirling burgundy depths. “I have won before.”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Oh yes, I have won several times. The world was mine, to rule as I see fit. The first time, yes, I ruled as the worst tyrant any timeline has ever known.” He huffs at himself. “Even I myself am quite appalled at what I was like, back in ages long since ash. Then, I was killed.

“The second time I won, I did things…better. I was a difficult king to live under, to be sure, but I was fair. If a petitioner came to me with an actual problem, then I would do my best to see the problem solved.” He smirks faintly. “Whether or not the petitioner appreciated the solution was another story.”

He pauses. “...then, once more I was killed.”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the middle distance. “...the third time that I won is my favorite out of all my lives. I took over after minimal violence, only the royal family and their honor guards were killed. Once I was in place, I began to turn the world into a paradise. Every citizen had access to clean water, healthy food, and medical care. I opened schools that were free to all citizens. I rebuilt the infrastructure that the royal family had let go for far too long. I invested in what’s most important to the long term health of a kingdom: farmers, fishermen, builders, carpenters, and the like. I built up the arts, threw festivals on holy days.” He smiles. “I was able to bring my people out of the desert, to settle in Hyrule. And the people…grew to love me. I became the beloved king that almost everyone was loyal to. They cheered, genuinely, when I passed.” To your surprise, his lips curl up in a tender smile, and his golden eyes soften, buttery warm in the candlelight. “I met my beloved, Amara. She was the woman who ran my stables, who cared for my personal warhorse when I did not have the time. She could have easily been one of my own people…we fell in love, and I made her my Queen, and she bore me several beautiful, strong children.

“Things were…perfect.”

His eyes darkened. “Then the princess and the hero were reincarnated, and I was killed once more.”

You gasp, and he glances at you, to see tears swimming in your eyes, your hands over your mouth. He sighs, reaching over and cupping a huge hand over your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear.

“It does not matter what I do, beautiful one. I may be a tyrant, or a benevolent ruler, and the cycle will complete anyway.”

The chair scrapes along the floor as you push away from the table, and Ganondorf makes a sound of surprise as you leap into his arms. He catches you, his eyes wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into hair. “It’s not fair,” you sob. “It’s not fair! You deserve happiness too! You didn’t ask for this!”

He blinks. He’s not sure how long it’s been since someone cried for him…He softens faintly, and he hugs you back, pressing his cheek to your hair. He doesn’t say anything as he closes his eyes, and he just lets himself enjoy your tight hug…and your empathy.

Your tears eventually slow, before coming to a full stop. You give a hard sniff, sitting back, Ganondorf’s hands sliding along your back to cup softly over your shoulder blades. “I-I’m sorry, I…I didn’t mean to get so upset.”

“Think nothing of it,” he murmurs, conjuring a linen handkerchief and gently wiping your face. “Yours is a tender soul.”

You give a gentle sniffle, and then a wet laugh. “I swear, I won’t cry the whole time I’m here.”

He chuckles softly as he cleans you up. “Do not make oaths you may not be able to keep, hm?”

Your eyebrow quirks up at him. “Are you saying you’re gonna make me cry more?”

His beautiful lips quirk up into a smirk. “Oftentimes after a physical release, people experience a psychological one as well. And you will be having many physical releases.”

His voice drops down into a deep purr, full of dark humor and promise, and you can feel yourself flushing darkly. “W-Well…that’s not fair.”

He laughs. “I never claimed to be.” He cocks his head as he considers your plate, how little you ate through his story. “Come, return to your seat. You have not eaten enough to regain your energy, my little lovely.”

Still blushing, you slide off his lap, and take one step to go back to your seat. But his huge hand suddenly catches your arm, and he tugs you back around. You gasp, stumbling, bracing one hand against his chest as he cups the back of your head and…kisses you.

He’s kissing you.

His perfect, beautiful lips are on yours, soft and warm and his touch is almost…tender.

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen, before fluttering shut. You make a soft sound into his lips as you begin to return the kiss. He molds your lips together, slow and sensual, even if just a tiny bit out of practice. Your hands raise, cupping over his bearded jaw, and when his thumb strokes so gently over your cheek you part your lips for a sigh.

He takes advantage immediately, his tongue stroking over your lips before dipping into your mouth. He feels you shiver hard, and he rumbles deep in his chest as his agile tongue licks against your own.

Then, he pulls away, and you’re left dazed, staring up into his face in wonder. He grins, deeply smug and satisfied, but in his eyes is the very slightest hint of gratitude.

“There. Now, you may eat.” He gently turns you around, and gives your rear end a pat to get you going. You let out a little squeak and quickly sit, your face red.

It’s quiet for a while as you and Ganondorf finish your meal. Your blush fades as he concentrates on his food and not you, and you’re left dealing with the surreal feeling of having a meal with the King of Evil. It's…bizarre, and it almost makes you want to laugh.

Then, a thought has you gasping: if The Legend of Zelda world is real, if he’s real, then what other worlds you thought were only fantasy could be real?

Unfortunately, you inhale while a piece of melon is in your mouth, and you immediately begin choking. “Hrrk!” you say eloquently. His eyes flash to you as you clutch at your throat, and his eyes widen.

“What–?!” He leans over and slaps your back, once, twice, before the melon dislodges and you’re able to swallow it.

“Gah!” You breath deeply, the air sweet into your briefly abused lungs. “T-Thank you, f-fuck…”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, but you can see he’s trying hard not to laugh. “I see that I will have to be careful with you, if you cannot even handle a piece of melon in your mouth.”

You squeak, scandalized. “Ganondorf!”

He does laugh now, a full-throated belly laugh. You protest and pout and finally pick up another bit of melon and throw it at his stupid, smug, beautiful face. It bounces off the tip of his nose and lands onto his own plate, where he looks down at it, bemused.

His golden eyes flash to yours, and you see a deep mischief flicker to life in their depths. “Oh? Does my little pet challenge me?”

“Uh…” is your reply. You quickly analyze his expression: no anger, no darkness (or at least, no more than there ever is), just…humor? “...maybe?”

He smirks, picking up a grape from the nearby bowl of them and examining it. “You will not win,” he purrs, before flicking his wrist. The grape hits you square between the eyes.

You stare at him in shock, but then a grin starts to worm it’s way across your lips. “Probably not,” you agree, reaching out and picking up a slice of cake. His eyes widen. “But it’s gonna be fun anyway!” And you throw it. It smears across his chest and a little way up his neck, and you have the urge to lick it off of him.

But maybe later, because all hell breaks loose.

The food flies, and both of your laughter bounces off the walls with it. You’re both quickly filthy, smeared in various sauces and desserts, and though he gets you far more than you get him, he doesn’t come out of the fight undecorated. The sight of a slice of banana stuck onto one of the spikes on his diadem has you laughing so hard you fall over, and he shows no mercy, taking the opportunity to drop half a pie directly down onto your face.

You splutter through the dessert, and he squats down, pushing the pie off your skin, his lips in a wide grin. “Surrender?” he asks, eyes sparkling in amusement as he wipes it from around your eyes.

“Yes! Yes, I surrender,” you giggle, licking at the cherry pie filling on your lips.

He leans down before you can get it all and kisses you deeply, suddenly, and you gasp as his tongue licks away the sweet dessert that you hadn’t gotten to yet. You moan into his mouth, opening for him and licking against his questing muscle. He growls softly, his hands cupping the sides of your head, and even upside down and covered in food his kiss is a thing of beauty.

All too soon he pulls away, his eyes darkened with desire, and he licks his lips. “Dinner is much more delicious when I eat it off of you,” he purrs, and you flush faintly.

But you surprise him, turning and rising up onto your knees to swipe your tongue over the cake and frosting smeared on his massive shoulder. “I could say the same,” you reply, your voice husky with desire.

One massive arm suddenly wraps around your waist, pressing you hard against him. His other hand cups the back of your head, and he kisses you deeply once more, devouring your lips as though he’d never eaten something so decadent in his life.

You groan loudly, kissing back, doing your best to keep up with his passion. Soon enough, he stands, bringing you with him, and begins walking. Your legs wrap around his waist for support, and he growls again, the feeling of such a dangerous sound vibrating into your chest making you whimper.

You expect to be laid down in the bed. Instead, he walks with you through a door, and you’re dropped suddenly…into a hot bath. You surface immediately, spluttering as water pours down your body, the silken nightgown immediately sodden. You hear the rustle of fabric, and when you push the wet hair out of your face, you look up to see Ganondorf standing there…completely naked.

Your jaw goes slack as your eyes drink in his body. Powerful muscle ripples along his limbs. His forearms, legs, chest, and crotch all sport a faint dusting of red hair on his darkly tanned skin. A gnarled scar rips through the center of his chest, looking at the very least rather uncomfortable. Many other scars mar his limbs, making him look, somehow, even more dangerous than he already does.

Then your eyes fix on his groin, and all the moisture in your mouth heads south.

His cock is…proportionate to his size, the head darker than the base, with two pronounced veins that run side by side on the top, along the slight upward curve. Because he’s sporting half an erection after everything that happened earlier.

You swallow thickly. Your apprehension must have shown on your face, because he chuckles softly and wraps a huge hand around himself. “There is no need for fear, my beautiful one,” he all but purrs, golden eyes glinting. “I am well versed in sex with people smaller than me. That is, after all, most of them.”

You want to laugh, but before you could he starts walking down into the tub.

The tub itself is huge, inset into the floor, made out of black marble threaded with gold. If it had been any sort of different situation, you would have taken the time to marvel at its beauty. But all your attention is on the man who walks right up you, smirking deeply.

His presence is overwhelming. You feel tiny, a speck before his mountain, and yet…the way he’s looking at you, desire beginning to burn in those golden depths once more, the appreciation of seeing the silk nightdress cling to your form…you begin to feel a little…beautiful. You’ve never been wanted before.

Not like this.

“Take that off,” he rumbles, almost growls. “I greatly enjoy it on you, but I will rip it off if I must.”

Your heart is hammering with a combination of excitement and nerves, but you quickly pull the sodden, now heavy fabric off and toss it away to land with a wet splat on the floor.

Fully naked before him for the first time, you watch as his eyes roam your form, taking their time, looking at every detail. You flush darkly under the scrutiny, your mind conjuring up all the flaws he could analyze, all the perceived imperfections in your body that you weren’t happy about, and you look away. You don’t want to watch his face fall.

A gentle finger presses to your skin, and though his touch is almost tender, his strength cannot be denied. Your face is turned back to him, and it seems like the passion in his gaze softens a bit. “You are beautiful,” he says simply. But the conviction in his tone, the matter-of-fact way he says it, like saying ‘It’s Tuesday’ or ‘the sky is blue’...he says it as fact. Your beauty was never a question for him.

You couldn’t stop your grateful smile if you tried.

He smirks faintly back, then sits down and makes a motion behind you. You turn to spy soap, shampoo, and some sort of hair oil lined up neatly, along with a washcloth. “You made a mess, my little pet,” he purrs. “It is time you cleaned it.”

Your eyes widen. Oh, to get your hands on him like this…you nod, and you bid him to lean back. He does, his eyes never leaving your face, and an amused light enters his eyes as he watches you frown at his diadem. “How do you…?”

He reaches up, and with a deft flick of his fingers (and gifting you a wonderful play of muscles in his shoulders) the diadem comes free. He sets it carefully down on the side of the tub, then looks to you expectantly.

Your surprised by what sort of difference just removing the diadem makes. He’s always regal looking, but right now, without the gold and large topaz on his brow, he seems a little more…normal. On your level. You can’t help but lean down and brush a kiss to his bare forehead.

He blinks in surprise at the affectionate little touch, but then he smiles softly, gentle creases in the corners of his beautiful eyes. Without a word he gently wraps one arm around your hips, giving you a brief squeeze, before dropping his limb and closing his eyes, clearly expecting you to get to work.

And so you do. You wet down his thick hair, working the shampoo through it, making sure that all the bits of food are gone. His fiery hair darkens to almost burgundy in the water, and your touch turns reverent. “You’re very beautiful too,” you murmur, stroking your fingers through his sudsy hair.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying the wash and scalp massage you’re giving him. You smile, enjoying the thought of bringing him some form of pleasure. His face is relaxed, any tension gone…it makes you happy.

You rinse his hair clean, then pick up the bottle of oil. You nibble your lip, never having used something like this before, but you figure it can’t be much different from conditioner. “Could you…I mean, I would like a comb to work this through your hair.”

He lifts his hand and a comb appears, sturdy but also golden. “Will this suffice?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” you reply, gently taking it from him. You spend a good deal of time making sure the oil reaches every strand, and he’s quiet, just enjoying your ministrations. “Does this get left in for a while?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re meant to wash it out immediately.

“Yes. I usually rinse it out once I am done with the rest of my wash,” he murmurs.

“Okay.” You set the comb aside, twisting the mass of his hair up and out of the way. Then you pause. “Um…what about your beard? Does that get the same treatment?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

You do so, using the shampoo and then the oil on his beard. No one you’ve been with had this kind of facial hair before. You found it quite intimate to take care of him like this, your heart thrumming in your chest.

It doesn’t help that his eyes have opened, watching you work.

Once his beard is taken care of, you grab the bar of soap and the washcloth. There’s a gentle scent to the lather, sandalwood and spices, without being overwhelming. It’s extremely pleasant, and you can’t wait to smell it on his skin. The thought makes you flush faintly, and he chuckles, curving a hand over your hip and making your blush deepen.

“What thoughts run through your mind, my beautiful one?” he rumbles, his thumb stroking over the small of your back.

“I-It’s just…this soap smells very nice,” you explain, dropping your gaze shyly as you start scrubbing the cake from his shoulder. “I-I’m just…expecting it to smell really good on you.”

“Is that so?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He makes an approving noise. “It is adorable how flustered you get over the sensual, my little one. There is no shame in such thinking–in fact, I’m pleased that you enjoy this scent. I shall keep using it, just for you.”

“Oh!” You flush, but you can’t stop the smile from curving your lips. “Thank you.” You swallow hard. “Y-You could…choose one you’d like on me, if you want.”

He smirks. “What makes you think I have not already done so?” He suddenly leans forward, pressing his nose to the hollow of your throat, and inhales deeply. “Mmm…” He lets out a rumbling purr of pleasure.

You gasp, your flesh raising in goosebumps at the touch. He hums at your touch, his other hand joining the first around your hip, gripping your curves and giving a soft squeeze. You groan, the washcloth coming to a stop on his skin, quite thoroughly distracted from your job.

His lips brush over your pulse point, once, twice, the touches leaving you trembling. Then he pulls away, eyes flashing molten in the low candlelight. “Come on now,” he purrs, a dark delight in his voice for getting you so flustered. “You have a job to do.”

Swallowing thickly, most of the moisture in your mouth having moved south, you start scrubbing him once more. The food stains slowly disappear as you cleanse his skin, and you can feel his gaze on you the entire time.

The mess finally clean, he plucks the cloth from you and shifts, sitting up more fully. His arm suddenly swipes around your waist, massive and thick, and you’re pulled onto his lap with a gasp. You feel his breath puff over the side of your neck, you feel his lips brush just under your ear, and you tremble as you sit on his massive thigh. “Your turn,” he rasps, his voice rumbling into your back.

You’re not sure you’re going to survive this.

His huge hand cups the back of your head, and he leans you down, holding you steady as your hair dips below the water. His other hand strokes through the wet strands, getting out as much of the food particles as he can. He’s…actually shockingly gentle with you, making sure he doesn’t pull too much. The feel of your head cradled in his palm…you exhale slowly, and for the first time that wasn’t because you were boneless from an orgasm, you can feel yourself fully relax.

He smiles as he feels the release of your tension. “Good girl,” he purrs softly, and you smile and close your eyes, trusting him to take care of you.

And take care of you he does. He washes your hair and gives it the same oil treatment you did for him. Then he scrubs the food from your skin, rinsing you clean, and all the while you just relax into him.

That is, until he’s finished rinsing you clean.

The oil is washed out, the suds left floating in the water, and he carries you out of the tub. You can feel his cock, fully hard against your ass as he doesn’t even bother with a towel. He just carries you into the bedroom, still dripping, and lays you down on the edge of the bed. “G-Ganondorf, we should–”

“Quiet,” he replies, his voice commanding. You fall silent as he gently pulls your legs apart, his eyes fixed on your pussy. You flush darkly, and he can feel your thigh muscles push against his hands, as if trying to close your legs. He smirks, his gaze piercing yours for a moment. “Do you seek to deny me the sight of your desire, little one?” he asks, almost laughing. “My fingers have already been inside you, have already sent your body soaring. What is left to feel so modest about?”

Your words are locked behind your embarrassment, and so you hide your face behind your hands instead.

He does laugh, now, a full-throated and husky sound that dances wonderfully over your nerves. “Very well. Hide if you wish, but that will not stop me from enjoying the fruits of your body…”

You expect him to dive right in after a statement like that, but you don’t feel anything. He just looks at you for a long moment, and though you’re hiding, you can almost feel his eyes on you.

His thumbs press to your outer lips suddenly, and you inhale sharply at the touch. Slowly, almost tenderly, he rubs them up and down, stroking the outside of your pussy and building the flames of your desire. His skin is calloused, but it feels divine on such a sensitive spot. He rubs all the way up, caressing through the soft curls of hair, then all the way back down, and as he moves up again he gently pulls your lips apart.

“Such sweet petals,” he purrs, now moving his touch to the insides of your outer lips. You gasp his name, and he sees your entrance twitch as you clench around nothing. “Your body wants to be filled with me…do not worry, my little beauty. We will get there.”

He mimics his previous motions, his thumbs rubbing up, and this time the very tips of his thumbs brush ever so gently over each side of your clit. A jolt snaps against your nerves, and you cry out, bucking up against his touch. “Lay still,” he grumbles. You try your best, settle yourself back against the wet silk underneath you as his thumbs trace their way back down.

As he draws them back up, this time you feel his skin is more slick. You’ve started leaking for him, your desire coating his thumbs and aiding in his journey, and this time his touch on your clit is less harsh and more delicious. You whimper in pleasure, your hands curling into the sheets at your side as he groans softly.

“Your nectar smells delicious, little one. Heady, but delicate. Oh, I will enjoy drinking from your spring…”

Your toes curl at his words, desire making your skin flush. He’s being almost poetic, and you wonder at it, wonder if this is how he becomes when he’s enjoying his lover. You definitely don’t mind.

But then he leans forward and flutters his tongue in your folds, and your brain shuts down any thinking at all.

This…him…is the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life. Soft, slick, thorough is his questing tongue as he laps slowly through your folds. He groans, his voice a rumble through your flesh, and your legs turn to water, your bare feet pressing to his shoulder blades. He hums at the feel and continues his slow, exquisite torture, pausing here or there to suckle on your lips, to run his nose through your damp curls. Every nerve on your cunt alights at his touch, arousal threatening to swallow you whole, and you mewl desperately, a soft, broken sound that makes his hands tighten on your thighs. You’re sure that later there will be finger-shaped bruises…but the thought simply makes you shiver.

Your hands leave the sheets, reaching down to curl through his hair, and he groans softly, giving you a sudden soft suckle onto your clit as a reward. You cry out, your hips trying to arch off the bed, but his strength isn’t to be denied, and you stay right there. Right where he wants you.

His clever tongue dips down now, pressing against your weeping entrance, lapping at your slick eagerly, greedily, as though you were the finest wine. He curls it up, firming it, pressing it into you centimeters at a time before pulling out, teasing you with what you could have but never giving you what you want. It swirls and licks and he groans and growls and you are melting.

Your clit aches for him, the pressure enough to nearly reduce you to babbling pleas. Never in your life have you felt this aroused, this desperate for someone else. “Please,” you beg, your eyes hazy with lust as you look down at the god between your legs.

His golden eyes flick to you, meeting your desire-drunk gaze, the corners crinkling in amusement…

…and then he shoves his tongue inside you as far as he can.

You shriek wordlessly, one leg kicking out, the other heel drumming on his back. His lips are firm to your flesh, nose pressing hard to your clit, and that tongue, that tongue, is writhing deep in your channel, stroking along your walls, fucking you as his fingers did earlier. He licks at your insides, drinking down your gushing slick, and all the while his nose rubs on your clit at his motions, grinding and brushing in equal measures. You can feel your orgasm lighting deep in your belly, the swirling pleasure soaring higher and higher, and you think he’ll stop, to draw out the torture but he doesn’t, he keeps going, feeling the sudden fluttering of your walls, growling and redoubling his efforts and his sounds are muffled into your cunt as the pressure begins to crack…

You come, and you come and you come and you come and he bellows into your flesh as he feels your walls squeeze hard around his tongue.

Your body is still twitching in orgasm as he pulls his tongue out of you, and he pulls you up, your legs up around his shoulders as he looms over you. His cock is suddenly nestled between your thighs, pressed tight against your drenched cunt, and his arms wrap around your legs, squeezing them gently together. He groans deeply at your body surrounding everything but his tip, and he begins to move, dragging the underside of his cock through your slick, making the glide easier.

He speeds up, his hips slapping against your ass, and you cry out as there’s a near constant drag on your throbbing clit. “There we go,” he all but growls, pressing his lips to the side of your calf muscle. “Drench me in you, get me nice and ready…” Then he huffs a laugh and snaps his fingers. You feel a bit of coolness at your throat, and he smirks. “Good thing one of us is not lust drunk…”

You flush darkly. “T-Thank you for remembering,” you murmur, curling your hand around the triangle charm that’s quickly warming from your body heat.

For a split second, his expression softens, and he nods in response.

Then he pushes your legs apart and guides his tip to your sopping entrance. The sheer size of him is so intimidating that you feel yourself tense, and he pauses. “Now, this will not do,” he rumbles, and his hands rub gently at your thighs. “You must relax for me, beautiful one. I promise, even someone of my size will not hurt as long as you stay pliable.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur, flushing darkly. “I…I’ve never had anything even half your size.”

He smirks faintly, eyes glinting down at you, spots of gold in his shadowed face. “Do not apologize for what you feel.” He looks thoughtfully down at you, then chuckles and lowers you back down to the bed. “Well, I suppose I will just have to spend more time opening your body for me.”

He shifts, laying down near the head of the huge mattress, and he reaches out, wrapping one hand around your bicep (his fingers meet around your arm, and a thrill runs through you once more at how deliciously small you feel). He pulls you up to him; you let out a slight laugh of exhilaration, and he smirks in amusement. He presses your back to his chest, his arm curled around your waist so he may cup and knead your tits, and his right hand slides down your thigh.

He pulls your leg up and tucks your foot behind his knee. You feel his fingers brush over your curls, then down over your lips, wet with your own dew. You choke on a gasp as one thick finger presses deep into your sopping heat. “Relax, little one,” he all but coos into your ear, his beard scraping wonderfully against your neck. “I have you. Trust me to take care of your body, hm?”

You shiver hard, but you take a deep breath, feeling yourself shift around his finger. You let it out slowly, and with it you work on releasing all the nervous tension in your limbs. He’s patient with you, nibbling and kissing at your ear and neck, letting you work on relaxing yourself. Only once he feels your walls are gently gripping him instead of clenching does he speak. “Good girl,” he purrs, and he makes you whimper. “Stay just like that.”

Slowly, his finger pulls out, then pushes back in. Even just his index finger is a lot, much thicker than your own. But this is quite doable, and after only a few moments he’s moving easily in you. “Here is a second. You have taken two before, little one, you will be fine.”

A second finger pushes in, and you groan deeply at the gentle stretch. He can feel your walls tense for a second, but he’s patient, and before too long you relax once more around him. “There you go…my good girl,” he praises, and you all but melt against him. “How do you feel, my beauty?”

“Really good,” you murmur, and he feels you shivering gently. “I-I feel…full.”

He hums in amusement, and you make a strangled sort of sound in the back of your throat as he suddenly wiggles his fingers in you. “Not nearly full enough…yet…”

He works you open, slowly, playing your body like an instrument he’s familiar with, knowing just how to warm up your strings to make you sing. His fingers are slow, gentle as they rock in you, and after a few minutes of this he begins to make a scissoring motion. You gasp and clutch at him, turning your head to press your face to his chest.

“Shh, I have you,” he soothes, giving your breast a gentle squeeze with his left hand. “You are doing so well for me, little one…”

The praise makes you feel all warm once again. His thumb gently rubs your clit again, making you gasp his name, hips twitching. He chuckles softly, and then, on the next thrust in, he presses his ring finger in with his middle and index.

Your heart about stops. Three of those massive digits is more than you’ve ever taken in your life. Your walls twitch and squeeze hard around his fingers. He growls, nipping down on your shoulder, his hand still for now. “So tight, my beauty…we must get you relaxed.”

All you can feel, all you can focus on, is the feeling between your legs. You’re so full, so achingly full…you pant softly, your eyes hazy as you feel your walls squeezing him, rippling gently around his fingers. He feels you trembling against him; you feel him smile against your shoulder.

Then his thumb starts rubbing over your clit, small, soft circles, and his name gets caught in your throat as you make a strangled cry and come. There was no warning, no build up–you’re so full that the sudden pressure, the sudden hard squeeze around his digits at the touch on your clit, forces you to come. You writhe against him, each squeeze of your walls around his thick fingers prolonging your orgasm, his thumb keeping you high. He’s growling softly, and as you get lost in the haze of pleasure, he pulls his fingers out and presses the tip of his cock in.

He growls something in a language you don’t recognize, but you know a curse when you hear one. And frankly, you agree: the stretch he’s giving you, even after preparing you like this, is incredible.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushes into you, inch by inch, until he bottoms out. You’re gasping his name, soft little puffs of breath, and he can feel a small bite of pain where your nails have dug into his thigh. It only makes him growl once more in approval. You feel impaled, you feel so thoroughly full of him that you don’t think you’ll ever be empty again.

“You feel…exquisite,” he rasps, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. “You have all of me you can fit, my little beauty…I knew you could do it…”

“G-Ganondorf,” you gasp again. You press one hand above where he’s filling you full, and you can feel him, feel his firmness inside you. You whimper.

“I know…do not worry, we are going to stay just like this for a little while,” he purrs, nipping playfully at your ear, at the side of your neck. “I do not want to hurt you. We must get you used to me, hm?”

You can only nod, quivering against his chest. He makes soothing sounds as you wait, his fingers stroking over your skin, almost delicate touches that serve to make you shiver and twitch around him. But you’re relaxing, melting back into his ministrations, and slowly you feel the death grip your walls have on him easing.

“There…that is much better, my lovely,” he praises. “Now, stay nice and still for me.”

Gently, he rocks his hips forward. It’s less of a thrust and more of a roll, but the drag he gets against your walls, the way you can almost feel those veins, feel the edges of his cock-head pressing and rubbing against you…curses fall from your mouth, and your hand scrabbles at his thigh.

He groans your name, slowly rocking and grinding his hips into yours, until he’s pulling out an inch and pushing back in, another inch, another, and he’s speeding up, unable to resist the pull of your body on his lust. Before too long, he’s pulling out to his tip and thrusting back in, snapping his hips, and you’re crying out, his name a prayer on your lips as the pleasure scours you from the inside out.

“Come with me,” he growls–no, commands into your ear. “You are going to come with me, lovely. Let us peak together…” His fingers find your clit once more, rubbing rapid, tight circles over the oversensitive bud.

You shriek his name, your hips jerking, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to move towards him or away. “C-Can’t, c-can’t, ‘s too much!”

“You can, and you will,” he growls, not letting up. He speeds up, both his fingers and his hips, fucking into you with barely controlled strength. “Come, little one, come with me!”

You’re helpless but to obey.

You shriek his name as you’re flung into an orgasm that once again has your vision whiting out, your hearing cutting off with a sharp whine. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing against him, as he roars at feeling your walls absolutely strangling his cock. His cum pours into you in thick waves, and you can almost feel the pulses against your walls. Your slick and his cum are fucked out of you, all but splashing over you both, and the feeling has you whining as the tail end of your orgasm begins to fade, leaving you absolutely boneless on the bed.

The only sound for long moments is the nearby gentle snapping of the fireplace, and the ragged panting from the both of you. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly softening in your walls, and when he slips out you wine softly. He chuckles, a low sound that’s still fairly breathless. “Are you…able to speak?” he asks, and you feel him shifting on the bed behind you, his massive hand curling gently over your hip.

“Mmph,” you say in response. Your limbs feel heavy, weighed down by the force of so much pleasure in your body at once.

“Are you in pain?” he asks, and you feel him shifting you, checking you over just in case.

“No,” you mumble. “Well…a bit sore…but you’re huge, so…makes sense…”

He chuckles again. “Fair enough. That will fade.” He stands, and when you peel your eyes open you’re a little gratified to see his legs wobble faintly. He notices your grin and huffs faintly. “It has been some time since I had pleasure like that, little one. Do not give me that look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, but it’s obvious you’re trying not to laugh.

He tries to look stern, but he can’t help the faint smile that breaks out anyway. “You are lucky I like you,” he replies, and pulls you up and into his arms. He walks into the bathroom, setting you back down into the hot water of his tub, and you flush as, for a moment, the water turns cloudy around you. He smirks, golden eyes glinting in amusement.

He gets you cleaned up, for which you’re grateful because your limbs are still like jelly. Once you’re clean and dry, he snaps his fingers in front of his bed, and the sheets are clean. “Handy,” you murmur, your cheek pressing to his shoulder. “Literally.”

He snorts. “Did you just seriously make a pun?”

You grin against his skin. “Maybe.”

“I am rethinking my fondness for you,” he grumbles, but he’s still gentle as he gets the both of you under the covers.

“Nah, you like me,” you chirp, already feeling sleep tugging at you.

“Hmph. Hush, my beautiful one, you need your rest.” You can hear the promise in his voice as he adds, “I am definitely not done with you…”

Too far into slumber’s pull to answer, the last thought that crosses your mind is: Good…because neither am I.

#ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #my writing

529 notes · View notes