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Entry tags:
High Hopes In Velvet Ropes
Title: High Hopes In Velvet Ropes
Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Character(s): Ghirahim, Link
Pairing(s): Ghirahim/Link
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 855
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Jealousy is a problem for Ghirahim.
Notes: So that was really going to be a oneshot, and then I guess this happened, so it's a collection of master-servant GhiraLink stories now.
Ghirahim acknowledges his faults. Some of them, anyway. He has no composure when it comes to his plans going awry, or being defeated in battle (not that that happens with anyone but Link). He indulges in battles that he enjoys to the point where he will spare strong opponents just to keep them around for another fight.
Jealousy is another problem for him.
There is no competition for Ghirahim: he is simply the best there is in terms of power, beauty, and wit. The idea that anyone would prefer anyone else's company is laughable, and yet.
There is this girl. Ghirahim doesn't know her name and he doesn't care. Apparently her occupation involves storing items for other people. He can think of no job more menial and requiring of less talent.
It is blatantly obvious that she adores Link. And why not? Link is probably the only man to have paid attention to her and her job in years. That he could almost dismiss, were it not that... Link seems to return this affection.
That will not do.
He could of course kill her, but Link would be furious with him for killing anyone in Skyloft, let alone someone he has feelings for. Angry Link tends to force him into sword form and leave him in a small box in his room for days or even weeks, and Ghirahim hates that beyond words. So no killing her yet, not unless it's a last resort.
He's still considering ways to remedy the situation when Link returns to his room. He seems pleased from whatever it was he had been doing. Ghirahim's anger flares along with his suspicion. "Welcome back, Link. Did you have a good time?"
Something about the use of his name (Ghirahim almost never uses it outside of battle or bed) and the expression on his face must tip Link off. "Uh, sure...? It was just a trip around the Bazaar."
Ghirahim crosses the space between them and grabs onto his shirt. "And who exactly did you see there?"
"Just the usual people. Ghirahim, what's gotten into you?" Link asks, trying to push Ghirahim away and not succeeding. "You don't normally get like this when I go out without you."
"Things have changed." Ghirahim lifts Link's chin to more effectively glare at him. "You've been spending far too much time with certain women, and I won't stand for my master thinking he can gallivant about with anyone he wants."
"You're jealou-"
Link doesn't get further than that because Ghirahim crushes his lips to his in a kiss meant to bruise. He bites down, drawing blood and a startled gasp from Link. When Link stops pushing at his chest, Ghirahim lets go of his shirt in order to carry him onto the bed and deposit him roughly onto it.
Ghirahim doesn't waste time. He knows Link's weak spots - his neck, his ears, the insides of his thighs - and attacks mercilessly with all tools at his disposal. This is not so unusual for him: he has never been one to go gentle on Link. He enjoys leaving Link as a wreck incapable of doing anything but squirm and moan.
When he would normally move on from foreplay, Ghirahim continues, and continues. He leaves marks all over Link's body, in places he knows Link can't cover. Not an inch of him escapes Ghirahim's tongue, and never is he given even a moment to breathe.
It must take a great deal of effort for Link to be able to get out, "Gh-Ghirahim, wait-" but once Ghirahim hears it, he pauses just long enough to ask, "You wanted something?"
"St...stop messing around..."
"Hm? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. You're going to have to be more specific." Ghirahim bites on Link's neck and feels him shudder.
Link has never been good at dirty talk, particularly under a haze of sensation. He manages a soft, "fuck..." and Ghirahim accepts that as the best he's probably going to get.
He smirks, divesting himself of his clothes deliberately slowly. "Is that what you want?"
Link nods.
"From me, and no one else?"
Link nods again more emphatically.
Preparation is quick and efficient, and Link cries out when Ghirahim drives into him. The pace is fast and the thrusts harsh, and throughout Ghirahim watches Link's face, how the pain mixes and accentuates Link's pleasure until he can't think straight or concentrate on anything else. Exactly the way Ghirahim likes it.
The only coherent word Link can seem to get out is Ghirahim's name, and he uses it over and over. He tries to meet Ghirahim's thrusts, but Ghirahim holds him still by the hips. There's nothing he needs to do but accept that he belongs to him.
With all that teasing, Ghirahim isn't surprised that Link comes almost the moment he reaches for him. His own climax is almost an afterthought.
After a minute to recover, Link reaches for Ghirahim and kisses him, almost gently. "You know there wasn't anything to be jealous over in the first place, right?"
"There won't be now." Ghirahim feels considerably better about that.
Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Character(s): Ghirahim, Link
Pairing(s): Ghirahim/Link
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 855
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Jealousy is a problem for Ghirahim.
Notes: So that was really going to be a oneshot, and then I guess this happened, so it's a collection of master-servant GhiraLink stories now.
Ghirahim acknowledges his faults. Some of them, anyway. He has no composure when it comes to his plans going awry, or being defeated in battle (not that that happens with anyone but Link). He indulges in battles that he enjoys to the point where he will spare strong opponents just to keep them around for another fight.
Jealousy is another problem for him.
There is no competition for Ghirahim: he is simply the best there is in terms of power, beauty, and wit. The idea that anyone would prefer anyone else's company is laughable, and yet.
There is this girl. Ghirahim doesn't know her name and he doesn't care. Apparently her occupation involves storing items for other people. He can think of no job more menial and requiring of less talent.
It is blatantly obvious that she adores Link. And why not? Link is probably the only man to have paid attention to her and her job in years. That he could almost dismiss, were it not that... Link seems to return this affection.
That will not do.
He could of course kill her, but Link would be furious with him for killing anyone in Skyloft, let alone someone he has feelings for. Angry Link tends to force him into sword form and leave him in a small box in his room for days or even weeks, and Ghirahim hates that beyond words. So no killing her yet, not unless it's a last resort.
He's still considering ways to remedy the situation when Link returns to his room. He seems pleased from whatever it was he had been doing. Ghirahim's anger flares along with his suspicion. "Welcome back, Link. Did you have a good time?"
Something about the use of his name (Ghirahim almost never uses it outside of battle or bed) and the expression on his face must tip Link off. "Uh, sure...? It was just a trip around the Bazaar."
Ghirahim crosses the space between them and grabs onto his shirt. "And who exactly did you see there?"
"Just the usual people. Ghirahim, what's gotten into you?" Link asks, trying to push Ghirahim away and not succeeding. "You don't normally get like this when I go out without you."
"Things have changed." Ghirahim lifts Link's chin to more effectively glare at him. "You've been spending far too much time with certain women, and I won't stand for my master thinking he can gallivant about with anyone he wants."
"You're jealou-"
Link doesn't get further than that because Ghirahim crushes his lips to his in a kiss meant to bruise. He bites down, drawing blood and a startled gasp from Link. When Link stops pushing at his chest, Ghirahim lets go of his shirt in order to carry him onto the bed and deposit him roughly onto it.
Ghirahim doesn't waste time. He knows Link's weak spots - his neck, his ears, the insides of his thighs - and attacks mercilessly with all tools at his disposal. This is not so unusual for him: he has never been one to go gentle on Link. He enjoys leaving Link as a wreck incapable of doing anything but squirm and moan.
When he would normally move on from foreplay, Ghirahim continues, and continues. He leaves marks all over Link's body, in places he knows Link can't cover. Not an inch of him escapes Ghirahim's tongue, and never is he given even a moment to breathe.
It must take a great deal of effort for Link to be able to get out, "Gh-Ghirahim, wait-" but once Ghirahim hears it, he pauses just long enough to ask, "You wanted something?"
"St...stop messing around..."
"Hm? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. You're going to have to be more specific." Ghirahim bites on Link's neck and feels him shudder.
Link has never been good at dirty talk, particularly under a haze of sensation. He manages a soft, "fuck..." and Ghirahim accepts that as the best he's probably going to get.
He smirks, divesting himself of his clothes deliberately slowly. "Is that what you want?"
Link nods.
"From me, and no one else?"
Link nods again more emphatically.
Preparation is quick and efficient, and Link cries out when Ghirahim drives into him. The pace is fast and the thrusts harsh, and throughout Ghirahim watches Link's face, how the pain mixes and accentuates Link's pleasure until he can't think straight or concentrate on anything else. Exactly the way Ghirahim likes it.
The only coherent word Link can seem to get out is Ghirahim's name, and he uses it over and over. He tries to meet Ghirahim's thrusts, but Ghirahim holds him still by the hips. There's nothing he needs to do but accept that he belongs to him.
With all that teasing, Ghirahim isn't surprised that Link comes almost the moment he reaches for him. His own climax is almost an afterthought.
After a minute to recover, Link reaches for Ghirahim and kisses him, almost gently. "You know there wasn't anything to be jealous over in the first place, right?"
"There won't be now." Ghirahim feels considerably better about that.