Robin Has Vanilla Consensual Sex with Tharja

BY : CharlesMorren
Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all)
Dragon prints: 1718
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Robin lay on his side and stared at his bedroom wall.

If there is a hell, he thought, then its bedrooms are hot. Cold would be fine. Cold bedrooms are the reason people invented extra blankets, bedpans, and slippers. Cold bedrooms can be comfortable, so long as you don't actually have to leave the bed. But in a hot bedroom, if an open window isn't enough, then your only real options as far as sleep goes involve head injury.

The bedroom window hung open, letting in the occasional useless breeze.

He heard the sheets behind him shift, and the arm slung across his midsection gripped slightly tighter. Even in normal circumstances, Tharja would probably have been awake anyway. Given the choice, she wouldn't go to sleep until well after midnight. But given that Robin was in bed now, she didn't see a choice.

She changed her grip again, and Robin felt two specific points of contact press more firmly against his back. He had given up asking questions about her wardrobe fairly early into their relationship, after a few conversations that went nowhere (“Why do you wear that?” “Because it's what I wear?”), but he was almost certain that she hadn't slept naked until they were married. Hardly something to complain about, but at the moment it was another factor in why he was still awake.

“Tharja,” he said.

There was a damp noise that Robin identified as the sound of Tharja peeling a cheek away from the back of his sweaty shirt. “Yeah?”

It was risky, but what the hell. “Do you know any hexes that could force me to go to sleep?”

Tharja was quiet for a moment. She idly ran a finger around his navel. “Hmm. Do you want to wake up tomorrow?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Then I can't help you on short notice.” She kissed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“That's okay,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It's just that if I can't get to sleep soon I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to think straight tomorrow.”

Tharja tightened her grip on his waist and rolled to the side, pulling Robin onto his back. She slid slightly down the bed and flopped over again, ending up with her chin on his stomach, looking up at him.

She stared at him plaintively. A stray ray of moonlight from the window threw her pale face into relief against her dark hair. It was always a bit strange to look at her at night, since it was the only time she didn't wear any of her gold ornaments in her hair. “Why are you so concerned about getting enough sleep tonight?” she said.

“I didn't tell you?” he said. He probably hadn't; he had gotten used to her finding out things about him on her own. “Chrom's doing some sort of military show for some of the other nobles. He's gonna be supervising drills all day.”

“And you too?” she said, gripping both of his wrists. Tharja only grudgingly accepted that Robin's job could sometimes involve him being away from her.

Robin smiled, and shook his hands free. “I only have to be around for the meet and greet and the show. Chrom's the one you should be worried about. What with the party and six or so meals he's probably going to be dealing with these people for eighteen hours straight.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Probably is,” Robin said. He reached out and started lazily stroking Tharja's hair. “I don't know if I could handle it. I don't think I'd ever want to run a country.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Tharja said, smiling slowly. She gripped his hand where it touched her hair, and rubbed the firm muscle on his forearm, and with the other began kneading his lean, solid abdominals. “I think you would make a fine figure as a king.”

During this conversation, Robin had become acutely aware that Tharja's current position, head on his stomach looking forward, brought her bare chest into contact with his crotch. Only the thin fabric of his underclothes separated the pale flesh of her round breasts from his rapidly growing erection. She was almost certainly aware of this as well, as she kept arching her back inwards, burying his clothed member between her tits and bringing her heart-shaped backside into full view.

Robin knew he was not going to get to sleep anytime soon.

“To be a king I would have to marry a queen,” Robin said. “And I could never do that, because that would mean I couldn't marry you.”

He ran a finger down the smooth groove of her spine. She shivered in response.

“Are you sure?” she said. She pushed herself forward, laying flat on his chest so she could reach his face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips close to his ear. “There are... other arrangements.”

“Oh?”

She kissed him tenderly. “If I couldn't be your wife, I would gladly be your concubine,” she said, her voice soft as silk. “The only concubine you would ever need, or want.”

Robin brought his hands down to her buttocks, and grasped firmly as they kissed. “Wouldn't that make the queen jealous?” he said teasingly as their lips parted.

Tharja smiled. “Who cares about the queen? You would never want to leave my chamber,” she said. “His Majesty Robin would not do much reigning, and would do most of it... over the top of my head.”

“That sounds like a life I could learn to like,” Robin said.

Tharja's smile grew into a grin. “I have an idea,” she said, pushing off of his chest and getting up from the bed.

Her pale skin shone like a lantern in the darkness as she walked away, giving Robin a satisfying view of her rear end. She paused as she passed a shelf, and grabbed a book off of it. With a muttered spell, the room filled with a dim gold light.

There was a folding privacy screen by the dresser at the end of the room, rarely used because Tharja didn't see the need and Robin knew she'd just look around it. Tharja opened it up to obstruct the view of the dresser from the bed, along with the closet door.

“Get naked,” she said, disappearing behind the screen.

Happy to oblige, Robin stripped off his top and bottom, letting his now rock-hard member spring free in the warm air. Feeling that something more was expected off him, he sat himself center in the bed and rearranged the pillows into a more comfortable seated position.

Behind the screen, there was the sound of drawers being ransacked and boxes being opened. Robin could hear Tharja humming to herself tunelessly. In less than a minute, which felt rather longer to him, she stepped around the side of the screen.

Tharja's normal dark mage outfit was accompanied by a number of bangles and trinkets. She had changed into these. That is to say, she had put them on, and nothing else.

The circlet once again glittered in her dark hair. Her thighs were encircled by a set of gold-colored bands, both just tight enough on her light skin to accentuate the curve of her hips. A set of bracelets dangled precariously on her wrists, glinting in the low light as she brought one finger to perch on her lips. Her neck was covered by a long yellow collar, below which her other hand was set atop a perky breast.

“Does my liege approve?” she asked huskily.

She walked slightly forward. On her waist was a thin metal chain, which shook in rhythm with her steps.

“Highly,” Robin said. “Though I'm wondering why I've never seen that chain before.”

Tharja shook her hips, and the chain bounced around her midriff. “This thing?” she said slyly. “I've been looking for a reason to wear it. There's no place for it on the outfit of a dark mage. On the concubine of His Majesty, though... it is perfect.”

She walked to the foot of the bed and stood before him. Slowly, she curled on leg upwards at an angle, stretching out her arms to balance as she posed like a flamingo. Her chest and the chain shimmied in sympathy. “And what does the king request of his favored one?” she breathed.

Robin leaned forward. He took in the sight of her balancing on one leg, her long legs shining gold with a thin layer of sweat. He smiled.

“Dance for me,” he said.

With nothing but a smirk, Tharja complied. She began twirling on the spot, hands above her head, shaking her hips as she returned to face him. Her hands traveled slowly down her body, moving from her lips to cupping her breasts, down her taut midriff until one hand reached her mound, wet with arousal. There was no music, but the jangle of her ornaments along with the slither of her bare feet on the carpet and her soft moans as she touched herself made a fitting melody.

Tharja was not a trained dancer, but she was enthusiastic, and a man with a beautiful nude woman in front of him is rarely concerned about proper footwork. Robin scarcely allowed himself to blink for fear of missing any details, and it was only with a great amount of restraint that he kept his hands off of his throbbing cock. There were some things that were better to be savored.

With a final jingle of the chain around her waist, Tharja brought her feet to a skidding stop. She placed both hands behind her head. “Was my dance pleasing to you, my king?” she said.

“Very,” Robin said. He couldn't help noticing that the enjoyment had gone more than one way. Tharja was breathing heavily, and her arousal was actively dripping onto the carpet. “I see you anticipate your reward.”

Tharja ran a hand down to her crotch, and leaned forward, her breasts dangling freely. “My reward is your next request.”

“Climb up here.” The words came from Robin's mouth without any input from the brain.

With no apparent urgency, Tharja placed both knees on the bed, and leaned forward, drawing her face level with his cock. She looked him in the eye, and exhaled deeply onto its tip, sending a fresh buzz through his spine.

“Is this close enough?” she said.

Without waiting for his response, she opened her mouth and caressed his shaft with her tongue, giving one long lick from base to tip. A river of precum was streaming out of the top, its flow only hastened by her ministrations. Still making perfect eye contact, she placed both lips upon it and drank.

She returned to his shaft, placing further kisses up and down its side in rhythm, punctuated by more delicate work with her tongue. There were moments where Robin could swear that she had wrapped it fully around its length, squeezing his manhood like a snake catching its dinner. Only after his entire length was wet with her saliva did she return to the head, where with one quick motion she took him in her mouth.

Robin groaned. Tharja's study of the blowjob had been brief but intensive, and had involved a magically-suppressed gag reflex. She could take him all the way to the root without blinking, and so she did, slowly and luxuriously as only she could. At the base, with his cock all the way down her throat, she extended her tongue out once more for extra dexterity.

She began moving again, releasing his cock with a pop and a smile, only to immediately swallow it once more. She began pumping her head up and down his length industriously, her tongue encircling his head at the peak and stimulating his balls at the bottom. Her hands reached out and began pumping his shaft whenever it was free. The stimulation was unbearable, and it wasn't long before he could feel his orgasm building.

“I'm coming,” he said breathlessly. She only quickened her pace.

She stared at him as he reached his peak, and with an exhausted roar felt himself cum. With practiced reflex she removed him from her mouth, still stroking as he sprayed his seed in thick strands all over her face and chest.

Tharja smiled, and sat back up. His ejaculation had been intense, and one of her eyes was glued shut by a stray shot. She ran a finger across her face, and inserted it into her mouth, sucking on the gathered residue. “Delicious,” she said. “And more of it than usual. My king's virility cannot be denied.”

Still breathing hard, Robin stroked the side of her head. “All thanks to you.”

“So you say.” Tharja sat up, and grabbed a handkerchief from the nightstand. She wiped off her face, but left her chest remain sullied, Robin's cum running with her own sweat in syrupy tableau. “Then let's see whether I can assist your stamina as well.”

She opened the drawer on the nightstand, withdrawing a jar containing a coarse gray powder, smelling of crushed herbs, cinnamon, and the strange acrid smell that Robin now associated with Tharja's hexwork. It was half-empty. She shook some out onto her hand, and matter-of-factly spread it in a circle on Robin's chest. A spark from a scrap of a fire tome set it to smoldering, but his chest remained unsinged. A sweet-smelling smoke filled his nostrils.

“Breathe in,” Tharja said.

Robin did so, and immediately could feel his cock hardening once more as he stared at his wife in position at his groin, her skin glistening almost as much as the jewelry she wore. She just smiled, and industriously began stroking him again.

“Shall we continue, my king?”

Robin didn't bother with words. With a grunt of effort, he reached out and grabbed her by the armpits, hauling her on top of him. Her legs straddled him, and he could feel the heat of her entrance on his groin.

With Robin's dick so close to her entrance, Tharja's pretensions evaporated. She didn't bother with more teasing, she had abandoned all concept of foreplay, all pretext of putting on a show clearly displaced by the dire need to have Robin inside of her now. She panted hungrily as she raised herself up on her knees, using one hand to guide his member inwards. Robin placed both hands on her hips to steady her, and she moaned in anticipation.

She plunged downwards, taking him in to the hilt. They gasped together at the initial stroke., and paused for a moment. Robin could feel her walls enveloping him, feel her as she squeezed inwards on him, sense every movement as she rolled her toned midsection back and forth. She made slow circuits on top of him, staring up at the ceiling with her mouth agape. She gathered speed slowly and agonizingly, until Robin lost patience and slammed upwards, bouncing Tharja along his length as she inhaled sharply.

Taking his cue, she began riding him more strongly, rebounding up and down his cock with elastic energy as he thrust higher. She arched backwards and braced herself with her hands on his legs, letting her breasts shake freely with the rhythm. Moans of pleasure seemed to squeeze out of her with every stroke, and only intermittently did she seem capable of forming complete sentences.

“Oh god- it's perfect- please- don't stop- Robin!”

She screamed his name louder than anything else. Robin didn't think he could stop even if he wanted to. The situation was in Tharja's control.

He felt the weight on his legs lift as she raised her arms above her head. The shift in balance made thrusting a bit harder, but with a bit of extra effort he maintained pace. There was no way he was going to let her down now. Her wails only grew more frenzied with every fresh stroke as she clung to her own head desperately, eyes tightly shut with concentration. It was obvious that she could not continue for much longer.

With one final scream and a shudder he could feel running all the way through her, Tharja fell forward onto his chest, coming to rest with her head on his shoulder. He could hear every ragged breath, every manic descending sigh as she came back down. She kissed his neck exhaustedly. Despite everything, her walls maintained their grip on his cock.

For a few moments, the only sound was their heavy breathing, the only sensation the warm air on their skin and the mingle of juices pressed between them. Tharja lifted her head back up and looked at him with satisfaction.

Before she had a chance to say anything, Robin bodily rolled them both over, pinning her beneath him on the bedspread. Her eyes filled with surprise and delight, and she quickly arranged herself to continue more comfortable, widening the splay of her legs to accommodate him. Robin knelt upright and resumed thrusting furiously, shaking the bed with every stroke. Tharja's incense always did its job well; he felt almost more full of energy than before.

He thrust as fast and hard as he could. Tharja writhed on the bed below him, independent from how he moved. Her hips gyrated and she brought both hands up, laying one on the bed above her and caressing one of her breasts with the other. For all the world, she looked like she was dancing again, but this time to a beat that filled her to the core. She cried out, but was beyond the point of articulation. The only sounds she could make were panting sounds of gratification, and a few more attempts at his name.

With such a spectacle before him, he could only control himself for so long. His strokes became more frantic, and with a drained shout, he pulled out of her just as he hit climax.

Tharja reached out and stroked his cock right as the first shot came out, spreading from her navel to her chin. With each additional caress he shot another. Robin closed his eyes and groaned, his balls aching with the effort of two ejaculations in a row. When he felt himself stop he looked back down, to see Tharja covered with his cum once more and wearing an expression of utter bliss.

“Wondrous,” she said quietly.


It took them a rather long time to get cleaned up. In the end they decided it would be best to just put the bedsheets off to the side in the morning, when they could be washed or probably just burned. As it was, they contented themselves by toweling off and returning to sleep on a fresh blanket. It wasn't as if they needed anything else.

And so Robin once again found himself laying on his side, staring at the wall, with his wife clutching his back.

On the whole, he was glad he wasn't a king. He had all the perks anyway.

They both slept well that night.



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