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Awkward	By : The13thStranger Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all) Views: 2021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I swear I own nothing of Fire Emblem, and make no money at all with it.

Chapter List
- 1-Awkward
- 1
A fill for the kink meme I recently did, for a crack pairing that I’m suddenly quite enamored with. Kinks were either laying claim, one wearing the other's clothes, or sexy flirting. I decided I couldn't just pick one, and tried to do them all.

*****

Natasha was... well she wasn't without flaws. Marisa wouldn't be so insensibly glassy-eyed to suggest otherwise. That wouldn't stop her from having considerable trouble coming up with legitimate flaws off the top of her head however.

"How is your wound? Are the dressings too tight?"

Some might say that she fretted like a mother hen, but Marisa took it all in stride. Hell, though she would tell nobody ever, she actually reveled in it. Growing up without anybody ever really looking after her this way, then suddenly having somebody as wonderful as the pretty cleric pampering her any rare time she found herself taking a hit was... endearing.

"It's fine."

"You are sure? You rarely mention such things, so if at all you-"

"It's fine." She 'rarely mentioned such things' because she never had a need to. She wasn't a stranger to pain, but even so, the cleric could do no better. Really, Marisa could barely feel it at this point.

"...alright..." She always looked crestfallen whenever Marisa was hurt. As if she had failed somehow. Nevermind that the swordswoman was assigned to her protection and was going to get stuck with something for her efforts. Wounds normally. Sometimes poison. One time she was petrified, easily the most unpleasant experience of her entire life.

"Don't frown that way." She would do it again every time. Even the petrification.

"You've been injured again. I am supposed to preven-"

"You're supposed to patch me up whenever I take hits for you. Which is about one in every fifty I dodge."

"I can fight as well though, so I should be wat-mmph?!" One flaw Marisa would grudgingly admit was that if anybody the cleric happened to care for got so much as pricked by a thorn under her watch, she would blame herself for a week. The silver lining here though was that Marisa had managed to find a way to cease such moods that both of them were rather fond of. (Of course she found that method after having lost perhaps a touch too much blood and was halfway delirious but that's a story for another time.)

Marisa slowly broke the kiss and pierced her eyes with something that wasn't quite as harsh as a glare, but demanded just as much attention.

"If I ever have to pick which of us gets wounded, I will step in the way every time. You're mine, and I will not see you die in ways I can easily prevent now that I have you."

Natasha, bless her (pun unintended), could do little except be lead to their shared tent. Best to strike while the iron was hot before she got the silly notion in her head to argue.

On their way back to the tent, they were stopped for a moment by that one green knight Natasha was friends with.

"Hey, sister, I finished that sat-"

"No." And they were off again, leaving poor Franz to wonder if he had offended somebody he had never met somehow.

"Marisa, that was-"

"Rude, yes" Marisa conceded as she pulled the other woman through the tent flaps. "But if we stopped, it would have taken a while to get here. I want you now."

"...then... I suppose you have me." Oh, that light dusting of an embarrassed blush. Good thing Marisa wasn't poetic, otherwise she might've spent a good hour gaping like an idiot, waxing on and off about the very sight of it.

As she was a very direct individual, she instead busied herself with removing the (thank you clergy) conveniently easy to remove robes Natasha wore, while laying her down on the bedroll. Marisa was nothing if not efficient.

It wasn't long before Natasha was mewling helplessly on her hands and knees as Marisa kissed her from behind, one hand kneading a breast just right while the other twisted dexterous fingers inside her.

It'd be simple to position her front to front, but Marisa was in a giving mood today. Natasha suddenly seized up, starting to sob quietly as her climax overtook her, and Marisa hugged her close as her body shook and quaked under sensations she was still getting used to receiving on a regular basis.

She never understood why Natasha cried whenever she finished, but learned quickly that it was thankfully nothing negative. A peculiar quirk, and little else. In this case though, those tears meant she was now well and distracted from that trifling wound.

Marisa felt her mouth tilt into a rare smile as Natasha turned around and prepared to say something, but was interrupted by that damn knight again standing in front of their tent.

"Sister, are you free now? I wanted to give yo-" Marisa didn't give much thought to the article of clothing she had grabbed and wrapped around her nudity, before she opened the tent flap to confront the annoyance.

"Is it important?" Franz couldn't stop himself from looking her body up and down quickly, though Marisa couldn't imagine why as she was quite covered.

"N-n-no, but..."

"Then come back later." Franz wasn't stupid. He could plainly connect the dots of Marisa urgently dragging Natasha off somewhere, Marisa suddenly holding Natasha's clothes around her body, and the look in Marisa's eyes that promised death if he didn't make this interruption worth it's annoyance or go away.

Franz banished (temporarily) the images of two women he happened to find very attractive having sex that were frying his brain, stuttered an apology, and left as quickly as he could.

Marisa let the flap of the tent fall closed with a sigh, and then looked down and noticed what she was wearing. Suddenly the dumbfounded reaction of the knight made much more sense. She was interrupted from her thoughts of maybe having to defend Natasha's honor later by a pair of soft arms encircling her waist.

"We really must work on how you talk to other people. Franz sounded... scared for his life, I think."

"He was asking for it." Marisa stated, leaning back into the taller woman. Natasha let the point go, evidently deciding to apologize to Franz for her lover's behavior later. Then said in a mischievous tone, (a tone that Marisa had never heard from her before now)

"I think my habit looks better on you then it does me." A habit, that's what the robe was called. Filing the information away for later, she replied,

"Impossible."

"...if you think so, we could... see how you look without it?"

It wasn't often that Marisa praised the goddess. However, Natasha asking for more sex never ever happened and might never happen again. Marisa couldn't find it in her to do anything but fervently thank the powers that were, turn around, and whisper an inch from Natasha's lips,

"Let's find out."
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