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It is an unusually warm spring day at Garreg Mach, the kind that makes clothes stick to the skin and hair frizz at the ends. Despite his upbringing in the frigid mountains of Fhirdiad, Dimitri doesn’t mind the warmth, because it means that tea time with his beloved professor will last much longer than usual.
He thanks whatever gods above are responsible for the pleasant weather, for when she sits down with him at their usual spot, the sun shines divinely off her sweat-slick skin and practically lights her mesmerizing turquoise hair on fire. He can hardly look at her without wanting to kneel at her feet and worship. How hard the wish hits him is frightening.
What’s even more frightening is how much he wants Byleth to feel the same way, mentally cursing Sylvain for putting the thought into his head in the first place.
His annoyingly persistent childhood friend has become increasingly fascinated with the (not so subtle, according to him) infatuation that Dimitri holds for the professor- so much so that he cruelly implied that Byleth returns the affection the night prior.
~
“That’s impossible!” Dimitri yelled at him while sparring. His crest got the best of him and flared with the brief anger, almost splitting his training lance into nothing but slivers of wood.
Sylvain ducked out of habit, having been the victim of the prince’s rage too many times to count.
“Oh please, don’t be so dramatic,” The redhead groaned. “I know the look of a woman’s desire more than any other man in this place. You never see it when she looks at you, Dimitri. It’s almost enough to get me all hot and bothered.”
Dimitri wasn’t able to help the flutter in his chest at the words despite his frustration with Sylvain. Could it be true? Byleth’s cool and collected affect was hard to break sometimes, but recently she had smiled at him more, causing him to have a lapse in coherent thoughts and breathing patterns. Her beauty was beyond comparison, and if he didn’t know her better, he would think she was afflicting him on purpose.
But she was also his professor, and he was the heir to the throne before anything else, which created a gap that seemed too large and deep to cross.
“You’re messing with me. Now let me work in peace.” Dimitri growled before hastily grabbing another lance. His jabs against the training dummy were hard, causing sounds of clanking metal to reverberate from wall to wall.
Sylvain muttered something inaudible, but he respected the prince’s wishes and took his leave with no objection.
Soon afternoon turned to night and every stuffed burlap sack was ripped to shreds. With nothing left to do, Dimitri returned to the dormitories. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Byleth- her smile, her eyes, her muscular legs and those lace tights that fit so snug and reveal the creamy flesh of her thighs with each movement. It was almost too much to bear, and left no room for his attention to turn elsewhere.
So much so that he didn’t even notice Sylvain and Claude at the end of the hallway, conversing so low and sharing a mischievous pair of grins.
~
“Are you well, Dimitri?” Byleth’s words snap him back from his recollection. She gives him an endearing smile that could force his heart to leap straight from his chest.
“Ah, yes, forgive me, Professor. I was miles away, but very well now that we have a chance to relax.”
The Blue Lions had been busy taking care of bandits for the church three times a week as of late. An upcoming festival became their saving grace- Rhea and Seteth were so preoccupied with the setup that they had not called for tasks away from the monastery for days. Luckily, their house wiped out all known bandits within the vicinity before then.
“Mmmm, indeed…” Byleth hums as she pours them each a cup of tea. “I was beginning to worry I’ve pushed you all too hard. I’m very relieved you get to rest.”
Dimitri takes his tea and inhales. It’s different today, not their usual chamomile, and the smell is completely unrecognizable. It’s floral with hints of sickly sweet, enough to be too sweet for even Mercedes, he reckons, but something about it draws him in.
“Nonsense, Professor,” Dimitri returns to the conversation after taking a sip. “You work the hardest out of us all. I hope you know it does not go unnoticed.”
She thanks him and gives another dazzling smile, one that causes his cheeks to flush a rose red that grows deeper when he notices her matching complexion. They begin to chat idly, simply enjoying one another’s presence as a bee buzzes by to find nourishment in the newly bloomed crimson tulips.
An idea suddenly strikes Dimitri.
“Just a moment,” He says and rises effortlessly before kneeling to meet the flowers head on. He respects the bee’s duty and takes care to pick the stem that looks close to wilting, but is still vibrant in color. He returns to Byleth’s side, hands hovering close to her ear, and clears his throat before speaking. “May I?”
Byleth looks up at him gently and nods. His fingertips brush her earlobe tentatively before tucking the loose strands of hair behind. It’s as soft as he imagined, and he realizes too late that his touch never left even after he placed the flower.
“S-sorry, Professor. I hope I am not being too forward!” Dimitri laughs nervously but makes no effort to remove his fingers.
To his surprise, Byleth leans into his touch and sighs softly.
“Please, call me by my name when it’s just the two of us.” She replies, head now resting against his middle.
Dimitri convinces himself that he must be dreaming, for their proximity is too intimate to be anything other than friendly. He’s had many dreams about his professor that start similarly- innocent cuddles by the fishing pond and subtle brushes of skin when passing each other in the halls. They are a welcome respite from his usual night terrors that leave him hollow and gasping for air.
Only they usually end when Byleth looks at him with uncontained lust…
The same look that she wears now.
Suddenly, her eyes on him are searing hot, almost dripping with need under long, pale eyelashes. Her face is flushed an even deeper scarlet than before, and her breath comes in ragged waves under a heaving bosom that threatens to spill out of her black corset top. It causes a need of his own to strain in his mind (and trousers), but he pushes down the thought of her labored breath coming from beneath him instead, trying to focus on her strange and immediate affliction.
“Prof- Byleth, are you alright? Are you overheating? Perhaps we should get you to Manuela!” Dimitri stammers, trying his hardest to stifle his thumping heart.
Byleth rises from her seat, knocking her now empty cup to the ground with a crash, to face him head-on. Her green orbs search every feature of his with a dazed, dreamy stare. She cups his cheek firmly with a calloused palm, smoothing his arches lazily.
“I’m more than alright, Dimitri,” Her words drip like velvet. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“How w-what?” Is all that Dimitri manages to get out before she cuts him off with a sloppy kiss.
If he died right then and there, all of the trauma and grief would be worth it, he thinks. The feeling of her supple lips molding into his own like they were made for one another is enough to send him straight to the heavens above. His tongue impulsively swipes across her lips, begging for entrance, and the moment she grants him, he swears that he can taste her, despite not having the ability to do so for years.
The chime of the evening bells breaks Dimitri from his trance like an alarm. He pulls back, a mix of desperation and horror intertwining within his mind, causing Byleth to pout, nose crinkled and mouth swollen adorably.
“Byleth…” Dimitri forces out breathlessly. “I cannot help but think this is a poor idea. Your position could be tarnished if someone were to see. I am not worth the risk…”
Byleth scans their surroundings and frowns. He hopes (a little less than he should, really) that his words are convincing, because even though they were in a secluded area of the courtyard, someone could very well turn a corner and spot them. Even more than that was the threat of ruining her reputation- his own be damned, but he would never allow her to suffer on his behalf- let alone in general.
She turns to look at him with the same heat as before, seemingly unbothered by his pleas. A not-so-small part of him is thrilled when her warm hands return to his face.
“You have no idea how hard it has been, Dimitri…” His name falls off her tongue like silk, low and smooth and enough to almost drive him over the edge. “How I’ve longed for you. You have helped me feel human, and I mean to do the same for you…”
Though he had never explicitly told her of his inner turmoil, her insight is too sharp to miss it. She is the only person in the world who understands him without pestering and demanding explanations- the only person to accept him exactly how he is. And although the right decision is to return her to her quarters and leave her be like a gentleman, he cannot help but feel blissfully overwhelmed with the tender way she cares for him.
Dimitri means to stop it. He should be a gentleman and wait until he graduates to make her his, like he had planned. But soon his body is filled with a heavy warmth, and his senses come alive from the smell of honeysuckle and sweat and Byleth. His vision blurs around the edges, and the courtyard seems to fade, leaving only the woman in front of him in focus. He can see every detail of her- the discoloration of her scars, the lightly dusted freckles, the bead of sweat trailing down her breast. The sight, no, the entire sensation of her presence begins to drown any remaining anxieties with a euphoric hum.
He removes the hand from his face and places a soft kiss upon the palm, reveling in the goosebumps that travel up her body in response. His sapphire eyes meet her emerald ones, finally returning the same passion that she ignited. Byleth smirks knowingly before capturing his lips once more.
“Please, Dima…” Byleth whines needily against his mouth.
It only took that little whimper for Dimitri to lose all composure and pounce on her like an animal. He swats at the objects on the table to make room for her to lie on her back, skirts ruffled up so high that he can see the beginning of her lace underthings.
“Goddess, Byleth…” Dimitri whispers before running his tongue down her neck. “You think I have no idea what longing is like? That I haven’t spent every night imagining this very moment over and over again?”
His lips find the softest part and suck hard enough to leave a bruise, yet the mental picture of her wearing his mark in public only spurs him on more. Byleth squirms underneath him, desperately trying to unclasp the fasteners of her clothes and touch him at the same time. He growls at her attempt and swiftly pins her arms over her head, causing the top button of her corset to pop off with a swoosh and land in the remaining pile of tea cakes.
“That’s my job.” He huffs before using his teeth to tear off every remaining button and leaving kisses in their place.
His free hand pulls and rips her top into shreds, revealing her large and completely bare breasts. They’re littered with faded cicatrix here and there, but they are the definition of perfection to him. The sight causes his cock to twitch as he palms one of them and kneads the soft flesh, paying close attention to the way his fingers brush her nipple. The movement draws a lewd and guttural sound from his lover.
“I, ahh…” Byleth tries to speak but loses her breath when Dimitri’s mouth replaces his fingers.
He sucks hard, as though he means to choke himself. Maybe if he weren’t so out of his mind in a lustful haze, he would be embarrassed by the way his teeth graze her most sensitive part, but her pleasant coos keep any apprehension at bay. He releases her trapped arms, and she immediately grabs a fistful of his hair when a swift hand slips under her waistband and brushes the pearl of her sex.
“Dimitri!” Byleth softly squeals. “Where did you learn to touch a woman like this?”
The prince smirks in return and turns his attention to the other breast, lazily twirling and lapping his tongue. He dips a finger deeper into her core, and is unable to stop a strangled moan when he feels a coating of slickness drip down to his wrist in thick streams.
“No one has come before you, Beloved…” Dimitri hardly recognizes his seductive voice, and the way it causes Byleth’s breath to hitch is mesmerizing. “I have waited ever so patiently to claim you, and I fully intend to take what is rightfully mine.”
He realizes then that the holy crowned prince is no longer within him. The beast that Felix doesn’t shut up about has made itself known; it smelled its prey, awakened by Byleth’s signature earthy lavender scent, and craves to devour her whole. The world around them could be burning and he would not stop the hunt until she is filled to the brim with his seed.
He isn’t too far gone, however, to remember that he is larger than the average man (particularly down there ) and has the ability to crush things with inhuman strength. He needs to take it slow- or Byleth could end up in the infirmary after all. He tentatively pushes another finger in and embraces the sensation of her tight walls before finding a steady pace that has her clawing at his scalp. With each pump he can feel her spasm and stretch, and it takes a ridiculous amount of strength to not hold her down and have his cock spread her open instead.
“Need…m-more, Dimitri…” Byleth whimpers, pulling his hair taught to the precipice of pain. “Please, take me. I am yours. I always have been…”
Dimitri’s heart threatens to fail at her words. He buries his head into her neck and inhales, trying his hardest to keep the tears welling in his eyes from falling. The reality of it all seems impossible- how could someone like her be so fond of a wretched soul? She deserves more. Someone who is full of life and not haunted by the past- someone who can promise a safe future.
As if catching onto his thoughts, Byleth forces his forehead up to rest upon hers. She beams sweetly before licking each tear that he fails to stop and kissing the tip of his nose. She looks deeply into his eyes, understanding and trust conveyed without dramatic and long proclamations. Instead, she speaks simply.
”I love you-“
Dimitri silences her. His lips crush into her own, and his fingers resume their work, quickening with each moan. The moment he adds a third, Byleth throws her head back, stifling her scream with his cloak as she rides his hand to completion. It stuns him, the way he can psychically feel her orgasm, but she takes no time collecting herself to unbuckle his trousers.
“My turn.” Byleth pants, still shaky in recovery.
With a snap she whips his belt off and throws it halfway over a rose hedge, resulting in a chuckle from the prince. Her haphazard efforts are much different from her usual cool and collected demeanor- it’s both amusing and endearing to see her so overcome with need.
An inexperienced hand suddenly grips his length, but Dimitri cannot stop his hips from bucking into her grasp anyway. Byleth gives two slow, firm pumps, milking an ooze of precum onto her fingers. Her eyes widen with wonder at the sight, and not a moment goes by until she wraps her tongue around the mess and sucks.
Dimitri feels as though he’s on fire as he watches in amazement.
Byleth spares no fluid as she licks her fingers clean, now sodden with saliva instead. She means to cup him again, and maybe in the future he would let her finish him this way, but with the threat of the fading sun and their time alone, he craves to be fully immersed within her. He grabs her hands in one fistful before bringing them up to his chest and covering them with his own, kissing her shamelessly.
”I love you, Byleth. Let me show you how much.”
Dimitri nibbles at her earlobe prior to spinning her over onto her stomach with ease. She gives a huff of displeasure, obviously wanting to continue her handwork, but it soon turns to satisfaction when the tip of his erection slides along her folds with a squelch.
“Goddess, Dima…” Byleth sighs dreamily. “You feel amazing…like you were made for me.”
He breathlessly replies that he was made for her, as though every deity that people across the land believe in came together and sewed their fates together- the only divine creed that they unanimously agreed upon. He traces a strong hand up her spine, committing to memory each scar and dimple before nudging her entrance further, drawing out a deep moan from his lover, but stops when she begins to hiss. Despite her pool of arousal, he can still feel resistance, and he mentally curses his outlandish size for causing her pain.
“We can end here, Beloved. I don’t want to hurt-“
Byleth shoves her hips back, stopping his words in their tracks, and plunges herself completely around him. Nothing could have prepared him for the way her walls consume him, muscles involuntarily clenching and relaxing in a way that could very well end his consciousness then and there. His blood sings at the contact, love flowing through his veins in place of oxygen.
It feels right. It feels like home.
Dimitri slips out only to rock into her again, this time with enough force to have her gripping the frayed tablecloth. Being both their first time, it’s a bit awkward trying to find a perfect rhythm, but as quick learners, soon it’s as though their bodies mold into one.
“Dimitri, c-come here…closer…” Byleth pleads, swatting a hand behind her to pull at his arm.
He slumps over her, practically bending her in half, and places wet kisses on every inch of her neck and face. The pace quickens, sending lewd noises to ring throughout the garden (loud enough for any passerby to hear), but the pair couldn't care less. They are in their own separate universe, tucked away under the illusion of Garreg Mach.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dimitri catches a jar of golden honey sitting at the edge of the table, threatening to spill over with each violent shake. Remembering the sight of her tasting his seed, he clutches it forcefully, causing it to shatter and leak from the cracks. The shards are not sharp enough to injure, thankfully, and he brushes them aside as casually as one would a fly. With his right hand now covered in thick honey, he uses the left to grasp her breast, steadying them both.
Two coated fingers brush Byleth’s lips.
”Open.” Dimitri orders, voice heavy with pleasure.
She complies instantly, licking each digit greedily and moaning louder than Dimitri has ever heard her. His cock rams into her sex, fully stuffed and throbbing, and his fingers mimic the action by pushing her tongue down and practically gagging her. If Byleth gave any indication of discomfort he would cease all together, but she sucks the honey clean off, rivulets dripping down her chin like drool.
Something begins to build in his loins, tender and ablaze. Her walls quiver, hinting at her own closeness, and he relishes the thought of bringing them to ecstasy simultaneously.
“Mmmm… I love y-you, love you, love…” Dimitri mumbles into her neck, words soon turning into intelligible notes and hums.
The overwhelming scent of honeysuckle and sex and sweat fills the air, and it isn’t long until everything goes white hot and he empties his seed into her, cock shoved to the hilt to ensure none of it goes to waste. Byleth convulses around him with a muffled scream as his hand stifles anything louder. Their pleasure intertwines, ebbing and flowing in the aftershocks, kissing each other with care. The sun sets behind them, basking the scene in hues of rose and gold, and it soon slips beneath the earth to trade places with the moon.
Dimitri is the first to break apart, only to wrap the cloak around his professor, enveloping her in Faerghun royal blue. His chest swells with pride and possessiveness at her appearance, and he cannot help but pull her into a tight embrace.
“Come with me to the Kingdom, Byleth,” He whispers, squeezing his arms around her midframe in hopes she won’t refuse and run. “Be my queen. There is no one else- you are all I could ever need or want.”
Byleth looks up at him blankly, and for a moment, the all too familiar lick of dread sweeps down his spine. His mind races to correct what he did wrong and how he can fix her apprehension, but she stops his spiraling with a chaste kiss on the cheek. She grins widely, and relief washes over him like a warm rain.
“You needn’t ask, but it will have to wait,” Byleth sighs as she looks down at her battered scraps of garments. “I can’t become a queen without proper clothes.”
***
Sylvain is bored. The dining hall is packed and rowdier than usual due to the upcoming festivities, but his class is spending their dinner studying for certifications. He wishes Ingrid, who is stuck on stable duties, were here. Sure, she would be studying too, but he loves bothering her more than anyone (especially when she becomes so flustered that her cheeks turn three shades darker.)
He supposes Felix will have to do as he eyes his broody friend, thinking of ways to torture him about his not-so-subtle crush on Annette. Sylvain has a thing for the obvious. What can he say?
He wonders what Dimitri and the professor are up to. It’s getting awfully late, and he prays that they are engaged in more than long, hot conversation. Though Claude ensured that the tea was indeed an aphrodisiac (and NOT a laxative), Sylvain had his suspicions, given that the Almyran prince liked to scheme within schemes.
”Love birds at one o’clock!” Claude whispers playfully, causing Sylvain to jump.
Speak of the devil.
Sylvain glances at the given direction and spots the culprits in command, unfortunately looking too normal. He chuckles.
“Seems like your little concoction didn’t work after all, so you owe me twenty gold,” Sylvain tuts and gives Claude a faux sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Mistakes happen to the best of us, but at least I’ll add some weight to my wallet after this.”
As Dimitri and Byleth make their way through the crowd, Claude gives the redhead a smirk. It takes a trained eye to notice their subtle alterations: Byleth wearing a large button-up (that certainly does not belong to her) as a dress, a crushed tulip behind her ear, and the tip of a purple mark half-hidden by her collar. Dimitri’s normally perfect hair is lopsided, small weeds are tangled in his belt, and something shiny and yellow sticks to his cape.
Wait. Is that honey?
“Our apologies for being late. We spent the evening going over some studies, I’m afraid.” Dimitri tries a little too hard to talk casually, but his voice is shaky and hoarse.
“Ah, not to worry at all! You two must have worked up an appetite. Go get your plates before the rest of the gluttonous Golden Deer show up.” Claude laughs, a playful tone dripping from his words.
Byleth eyes him suspiciously, but isn’t one to give up an offer of food. She saunters her way to the kitchens, limping a little, with the besotted prince trailing behind her. Sylvain watches, bewildered, as he realizes that Dimitri finally made a move- which confirms his loss of a bet.
“Want to tell me again how it didn’t work?” Claude gives a hearty c. “Come on, they went at it like rabbits. Now, that’ll be twenty gold in my wallet, thank you very much.”
Sylvain rolls his eyes but gives in to defeat. He rummages through his pocket and surrenders the money, mumbling something along the lines of “pleasure doing business with you.”
Dimitri returns first, and the sight of how debauched the future King of Faerghus looks is enough to turn Sylvain’s brief sour mood around.
Teasing Felix will have to wait for another time. This was going to be good.