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bardsemporium · 4 years

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The Saved King

This one was a request by @deepdarkmindobservation, who wanted to see the Summoner intervene on Dimitri’s behalf. I hope this scratches that itch.

Requests are still open! NSFW, fluff, and gen fic are welcome. OC friendly, just tell me what I need to know!

“Do your people deserve a broken King?” Líf asked, his tone suggesting the right answer to be, of course, no. Dimitri flinched at the question, his heart hurting. No, no of course they didn’t. His head ached and his eye blurred, but even so, he stood straight and held his head high. There was nothing to be gained in seeming pitiful in front of someone who saw him for the bloodied, stained beast he was.

“My people deserve the best King they can get, of course,” he said. Líf inclined his head, his strange red eyes boring into his as puffs of something blue and wispy trailed up into the night sky with his every breath. He wanted to ask what he was, but it seemed rude and was inconsequential. What mattered was that he was right.

“Then should you not step aside for one more fit? Can you even lead them the way you are?”

He had been doing fine until now, but perhaps… perhaps Líf was right on this as well. Perhaps he had no right to stand before anyone crowned as King, seeking absolution for his sins. If that were true, then what did he do? What could he do?

“I… I don’t know.”

Was freedom from his past so impossible that a phantom from a world unrelated to it had come to remind him of it? Was he really so ruined that even here, in a world far away, he was doomed to walk in its shadow?

“If you cannot answer, then the answer must be ‘no.’ No King fit for his crown would hesitate like that. We are the same, Dimitri. There are no second chances in Lífe, you must--”

“That’s enough of that.”

They turned together to see the Summoner striding towards them as quickly as their short legs could carry them. They stood between the two of them, hands on their hips as they faced down Líf with the sort of nonchalance that came with doing this sort of thing often. Líf crossed his arms and looked away, a large puff of that strange blue mist following a deep sigh.

“I know I’ve told you to be nice. Lots of folks have been through terrible things, Líf. You can’t just go around prodding at the tender bits. Now go on you, shoo! I’ll deal with you later.”

The Summoner turned towards him then, chewing on their lip in concern. Their eyes were wide and full of unspoken thoughts, and Dimitri felt a pang of guilt as he realized that he’d caused them trouble. He placed a hand over his chest and bent at the waist, his hair falling forward to obscure his face.

“Forgive me, I hadn’t meant to cause you trouble, Summoner. You didn’t need to get involved,” he said.

“It’s no trouble! Someone had to stand up to him, so it might as well be me. Don’t worry about it, really. Come on, why don’t we go have a nice cup of tea. It’ll settle the nerves.”

They took his hand and tugged, and despite the difference in their strength, he obeyed. He followed after them, a small smile finding its way across his face as they swung their joined hands between them. It was such a small, simple gesture, but it was a welcome one. It had been too long since someone had touched him so kindly. Affection stirred in his heart for them, and it was almost startling. He barely knew them, and yet they were so warm and kind.

He squeezed their hand gently, and when they squeezed back, he knew that he would go to any lengths to protect them. He wanted to see them smiling, forever.

#fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #fire emblem summoner

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bardsemporium · 4 years

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I'm bored so I'm gonna open requests for a bit. NSFW, fluff, and gen fic are all welcome.

#fire emblem #fire emblem the sacred stones #fire emblem the blazing sword #fire emblem path of radiance #fire emblem radiant dawn #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem shadows of valentia #fire emblem shadow dragon #fire emblem fates #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem heroes

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bardsemporium · 4 years

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Late Night Encounters

Just something short I ended up writing instead of working on my outline. It’s a little something for those of you that want Dimitri/Reader. This isn’t Dimileth, so please don’t tag it as such, I won’t be writing any of that.

If you want to see more things like this, let me know. This was quick and fun to write, and it let me practice using second person perspective, so I wouldn’t mind doing some more with other characters.

NSFW below the cut.

You open the door to his study and see Dimitri bent low over something, his pen scribbling furiously. You can tell by the set of his shoulders that he’s stressed and annoyed. Normally, you wouldn’t interrupt him. His work was important, and he felt it was the only way he could atone for his past. You respected that. But… it was late. It was late and Faerghus is so cold, the bed so large and lonely without him in it. He’s so engrossed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear you come closer.

Your hands find his shoulders and you squeeze and knead, marveling at the dense, corded muscle there. He tenses and relaxes when he realizes it’s you, his pen pausing in his work as you continue to work the knots from his neck.

“When are you coming to bed?” you ask. He hums and leans back in his chair, his back flexing under your hands. It’s hard to believe sometimes that you landed such a specimen–such a man!–but there he is, warm and strong under your hands.

“I can’t say, I’m afraid. I still have quite a few things that need my attention,” he says. He catches your hand in his and kisses it. “Can you not sleep?”

“Not without you there. I never can until I feel you next to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Darling. I hadn’t realized… why don’t you sit with me? I’ll finish this up and we’ll go to bed,” he says. His voice is warm and gentle. There’s no reproach or annoyance. You settle down on his lap, and his arms drape around you for a moment, his lips pressing tenderly behind your right ear. You shiver, but he resumes his work rather than acknowledge it. You lean back, resting comfortably against his broad chest. Pressed so close to him, you can feel the minute flexing of his muscles as he writes.

You could probably fall asleep here. He’s so warm, and he smells of cedar and smoke, like long nights by the fireside in the wilderness. It’s delightful and so very him. You yawn and close your eyes, enjoying the feel of him pressed against you and the sound of his breathing. He’s there. He’s real. He’s alive, and he’s safe. It is only the solidness of his manhood poking against your bottom that stops you from drifting off.

It surprises you what can get its attention. Dimitri himself doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s hardening there under you, he just keeps working. Normally he gets flustered and red faced. Right now, he’s focused. It’s been a few days since the two of you had enough time to be young and in love. In a moment of mischief, you roll your hips down against him and his quill snaps, sending ink splattering over the desk as he moves to dip it once more. It misses the document he’s working on by a hair’s breadth.

“Darling! Wh-what are you...” he trails off with a huff, his cheeks puffing out in a pout. “You can’t surprise me like that.”

“I’m sorry, Love. I suppose I forgot myself. It’s easy to do when I have such a strong, handsome man.” You press a kiss to the side of his neck, trailing your tongue up the thick, throbbing vein there. You can’t help but think of another vein, another time you felt his heartbeat thrumming under his skin. His breath hitches and you feel a fine tremor run through him. Hook, line, sinker.

“You’re incorrigible. If you wanted attention, you could have just said so Darling… I’m always willing to set a little time aside for you,” he says, shifting under you as he cleans up the mess of ink on his hand and desk.

“There’s no need for that… you can keep working and I’ll… entertain myself.” You slide from his lap onto your knees, parting his legs with commanding hands. He swallows audibly, but reaches for a fresh quill. You wait while he cuts the end on an angle and carves the nib how he likes it. You’d never want to risk hurting the man you so deeply adore. When he puts the blade aside, you lavish attention on his thighs.

They tense under your palms and he groans softly as you rub and squeeze them, working your way slowly upwards towards his groin. His pen scratches against the paper, but slowly now. He takes long pauses as you take your time with him and stops entirely when you finally untie the laces of his trousers. He lets out a soft, grateful groan as you push the fabric away and free his thick, hot cock.

“Isn’t that supposed to be important?” you ask. He hisses through clenched teeth as you trace around the tip with a single finger, watching as the string of precum stretches and snaps as you pull your hand away.

“I… can hardly focus on it with you touching me like that,” he says. His voice is a low rumble above you, and your womanhood aches at the sound of it. His voice has always done things to you. You can feel yourself already beginning to soak your underwear, and you know that he would claim you easily later.

“Well then, I guess you’ll have to put it off. It would be a shame for you to ruin your work with ink.”

You lean forward and plant a kiss against the shaft of his cock and bury your nose in the dusting of blond hair at its base. He smells more heady and sweet now. His hand rests on the back of your head and he strokes your hair in the way he always does when you pleasure him. There is little pressure, Dimitri doesn’t like to force the issue. His strength and size are reason enough, but his gentlemanly demeanor seals the deal.

You lick a long stripe up the underside of it, delighting in the way it twitches in response. Dimitri’s breathing is quicker now, but you know that you have a long way to go before he’s close. His stamina is impressive. He moans low as you smooth your hand downwards, spreading the slick fluid over his skin. You wish you’d known that you would do this, you would have brought the vial of oil you keep in your bedside table.

“Darling… please…” he whimpers and rolls his hips, his back arching beautifully. Your husband is a work of art, you think. His good eye burns into you, his pupil blown wide, his alabaster cheeks stained a pretty rose. You never were good at denying him.

You take him into your mouth, salivating at the salty, sweet taste of his skin and precum. You bob your head and hollow your cheeks, a thrill shooting through you as he moans. You peer up at him through your lashes and see him clamp his hand over his mouth to stifle the sounds. You long to reach up and take it away so you can hear him, but you both know how the help can gossip. Besides, you need your hands. You can’t quite take all of him, and he deserves to feel good all the way down.

His hips jerk as you pull away with a pop, stroking him slowly. He still has some time before he finishes. Gone are the days when Dimitri would pop off after only a few minutes. He brushes his hair back away from his face and you’re struck once again by how handsome he is. His face has filled out in peacetime. He had a haunted, hungry look to him during the war, but he’s much healthier now. He’s still haunted by the past sometimes, there are nights when he wakes screaming and thrashing, but they’re becoming less frequent. As Faerghus and Duscur heal, so does he.

He cups your cheek and you resume your worship, your tongue swirling around the tip of him. He shifts and parts his thighs, a silent request. You reach down and cup his balls gently before moving further down to press a knuckle into his perineum. He moans more loudly this time and bites down on his knuckle. Again you curse the spontaneity of this encounter. If you had the oil, you’d ease a finger or two inside him and stroke him properly. Regardless, Dimitri doesn’t seem to mind.

“Does that feel good, Dima?” you ask, trailing your tongue upwards, from root to tip.

“Goddess, yes. Please, Darling… please… I’m aching.”

You hum and lean down, taking him into your mouth once more. You take him deeply, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat. You hold him there for a moment before bobbing your head once more. Faster now that he’s close. You press and roll your knuckle into the delicate skin separating you and his prostate and he whines, his legs jerking. You watch through your lashes as his head falls back against the chair, his mouth open and his breath coming in harsh, fast pants.

You take his legs over your shoulders and he arches. His hand strokes your hair, his words become a jumbled mess of your name and swearing. You have almost no warning before he spills himself down your throat. You take him deeply once more, suck hard as he cums. Your ears are ringing. You don’t know if he screamed or if he kept himself silent, but you know that you are humming around him, enjoying the salty tang of his seed.

Finally, you ease off him. He’s whimpering and twitching, overstimulated and dazed in the aftermath of his orgasm. You lick him clean and press a kiss to the tip of his softening dick and tuck him back into his trousers. You lick away any mess left behind on your lips and rock back on your heels, satisfied with your work. He looks at you now, his eye dark and full of hunger. Wordlessly, he pushes the chair back and you squeal when he scoops you up in his arms.

“I can hardly leave you uncompensated, Darling,” is all he says as he kicks the door to his study closed behind him, his strides long and purposeful. “I hope you aren’t tired, because I find myself feeling quite invigorated.” You know that you’ll be walking funny the next morning, but it’s always worth it.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri fe #dimitri fe3h #fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem 16 #fe 16 #fe3h #lemons #dimitri/reader

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bardsemporium · 4 years

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Clarity

So in an effort to entice him to be a good boy for me and let me +10 merge him, I wrote something spicy for Dima. I wouldn’t normally cross post between here and Ao3, but I have this writing blog and I’m not using it, so it’s not hurting anything.

The character I used for this is actually part of a bigger project I’m working on. If anyone is interested in it, I might start making posts about the changes I’m making to 3H’s world here.

Lewd below the cut. If you want to avoid my spicy writing, please add the tag ‘lemons’ to your blacklist. If you want to request something, feel free.

They fell together in a tangle of limbs, and Dimitri’s hand flew up to cradle the back of her head. She landed on her back with a grunt in a cloud of dust, swearing quietly as he caught himself on his free hand, just enough to avoid crushing her under his weight. She lay panting under him, her pale cheeks flushed and sweaty, her inky fringe plastered to her forehead. Her chest heaved, her breasts brushing his chest with their every breath.

“Mitya?” she asked, her dark brows pulling down in concern.

His head drooped, and he took a deep, gulping breath as her scent—wisteria and the rainy, electric smell of magic—hit him. She felt so warm against him. She’d always been cool to the touch, but there under him, her eyes glinting in the lamplight like shards of fine blown glass, she was so very warm.

Kiss her…

He relaxed against her, shuddering at the feeling of her thighs cradling his hips. She gasped quietly, her fingers digging into his shoulders before her arm draped comfortably across the back of his neck, her thighs squeezing his waist, her skin hot as a brand against his.

“Ronnie…” he mumbled, his forehead pressing against hers. Her breath swept across his lips and smelled of lemon and that bergamot tea she was so fond of. He hadn’t liked the smell of it until then, and he hated that he couldn’t taste it.

Go ahead. Kiss her.

He jerked back as his uncle’s voice echoed in his mind. He had desired her as he did. He’d wanted her Crest, her youth, her family’s secrets. He couldn’t do this to her… did he not bring that vile man back to her mind? She’d never spoken of it, but he knew he’d coerced her in some manner at least. She blinked up at him, dazed and flushed anew. She looked beautiful… but he couldn’t let himself have such a joy.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I’m… I’m so clumsy. Here, let me help you up!” He tugged her to her feet and stepped away respectfully.

“Are you well? What was all that about?” she asked.

“Er… nothing. I think I’m just tired. I’m… going to go get cleaned up and try to take a nap. Excuse me!”

He rushed away, leaving her there in her confusion. Shame and need pumped through him, leaving him feeling hot and flustered for reasons that had nothing to do with their match. He sped down the cobbled path, past Sylvain and Felix, ignoring every friendly call or surprised question. He needed to hide for a bit. He could feel a beast of quite a different nature stirring just under his skin. His groin ached and his stomach twisted as he thought once more of Veronica and her pretty, petal pink lips. It was so easy to imagine them wrapped around his--

Stop it.

His heart fell. He had no right to think these sorts of things. He’d been horrible to her. He’d been at once possessive and cold, and now he thought he’d earned the right to want her so basely? He truly was more of a monster than first thought. Felix was right, there was no going back. His humanity was forfeit… but… even knowing that did little to help his current situation. He could feel himself—hard and hurting—straining against his trousers. He needed to get rid of the feeling if he wanted to think clearly again.

He took the stairs two at a time, rushing towards his room with a prayer that no one would stop him. It would be impossible to miss just how affected he was.

His door snapped shut behind him—harder than he meant to—and he sagged against it with a sigh. He bit down on his lip and closed his eye, trying to banish all of his lewd thoughts, but he couldn’t. They remained lodged in his mind like stubborn splinters. He couldn’t get the feeling of her heated skin and honey sweet breath out of his mind.

He whimpered as his cock twitched at the memory of her quick panting, and his skin prickled at the memory of her thighs squeezing his waist. If he searched his thoughts, the scent of her came easily. Sweet, heady, and floral, his head spun in its wake.

He kicked off his boots, shucked his shirt over his head, and stumbled towards his bed, allowing himself to fall upon his back. He groaned and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. It felt good on the left, but rubbing the right hurt so he stopped before he could do more damage to it. Her soft, ample breasts came to mind immediately as he was no longer occupied. A soft whine whistled through his clenched teeth.

He wanted to feel their weight in his hands, to feel her soft skin against his lips, to see lovebites blooming across her smooth, oleander skin as he sucked and nipped to mark her as his.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed this to end or else he would do something foolish. He reached down and tugged the laces loose, a grateful sigh breezing past his lips. He pushed the fabric away and his cock sprang free, already leaking and flushed.

What would she think of it? Would it put her off? Would she take it in her hands enthusiastically? He wrapped his hand around himself and squeezed at the base, moaning quietly at the sensation. Her hand wouldn’t be big enough to do so completely, but he knew he would prefer her touch. Her hand, though calloused and strong, was slender and long fingered—the once dainty hand of a Lady.

He considered her lips again, stroking himself from root to tip, catching the bead of precum that had gathered at the tip with his thumb, smearing it downward. She would look lovely on her knees before him, her lips red and swollen from his eager kisses as she hollowed her cheeks with a hard suck. His hips twitched, but he held himself back. There was no need to rush, she certainly wouldn’t.

He slowed his pace as he imagined a different ending to their bout. He tested the waters, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. Her arms tightened around his neck, her spine curving upwards as she turned her head to capture his mouth in a deep, needy kiss. He moaned softly, the image of them entangled in such a public place bringing him a shameful sort of excitement. His hands would wander, finding her hips in a desperate rush.

“Not here,” she would whisper, always the sensible one.

He would take her hand and haul her to her feet, and they would rush away to his bedroom together; past their friends and their knowing smiles and amused giggles. Her back would meet the door, her hips rocking against his as they kissed again and again, and then he would move them to the bed, keeping her close as he herded her backwards. She would cling to him, laughing as her back hit the mattress, his hand once again cradling the back of her head.

“I love you,” he murmured. It was the truth. It felt as though he had loved her his entire life--before then, even--though in truth, it had only been a few years; but years of yearning could turn the minutes to hours.

“I love you too,” she whispered in return.

Their clothes fell away in short order, tossed aside without care in favor of exploring one another. Her fingers trailed over his scars with affection rather than revulsion, her lips finding his scarred eyelid. He did the same for her. She gasped quietly as he moved downward, his mouth hot and wet on her throat, and then her breasts. His mouth closed around the rosy peaks, his tongue swirling and teeth scraping. He longed to taste her, but he liked to imagine that she tasted as sweet as she smelled, with a hint of salty sweat. Her sighs and shuddering gasps increased as he made his way lower.

“May I?” he asked. She smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear, her touch gentle and loving.

“Of course.”

He parted her folds with careful fingers, dragging his tongue across her tight, hot entrance before finding the prize just a little higher up. She smelled as divine as she ever did, and the headiness of sex made him lightheaded. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair as he lapped and sucked at her. Her thighs trembled as he teased her with the tip of his tongue, but he soon gave her what she needed. He drew her clit into his mouth and sucked gently, his finger sliding inside her. She was soaked and slick, her voice soft and breathy as he chased her pleasure.

He added a second finger, stretching her to prepare her for his cock. She keened softly, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her back arched, her voice pitching higher as she drew closer to the edge. She came with a moan, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. She looked thoroughly debauched, not unlike she had in the Knight’s Hall, but now only because of him.

“Mitya…” she reached for him and he lowered himself over her, kissing her deeply. If she minded the taste of herself in his mouth, she said nothing. Her thighs once again cradled his hips, but the heat was so much more intense now that they were skin to skin. “Make love to me,” she murmured, squeezing him tightly. He could feel her soaking folds against the length of his cock, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. He could never deny such an earnest request from his Lady.

Reality returned for a moment as he heard Sylvain’s door open and close. He bit down on the fleshy space between his thumb and forefinger to silence any unseemly noises and picked up the pace, his mind finding his fantasy quickly.

He eased himself inside her, helped along by just how soaked she was. It was a point of genuine pride that he could do this to her. Once settled, he waited. He would never be a brute, he would give her time to adjust to his girth. Soon she was rolling her hips against his and scraping her nails along his back. The bed jolted at the first thrust of his hips and her moan and the sound of flesh striking flesh shattered the silence. He set a lazy pace, taking his time with her. He wanted this to last.

Soon she was winding up tight once more, her walls already beginning to flutter around him. She whined and begged him to fuck her. Harder. Faster. So he obliged. Their hips met ruthlessly, his fingers pressing into her hip bones hard enough to leave bruises behind, but she uttered no complaint.

He was close. Everything in him was molten hot and tight. He whispered a warning, and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, pressing him deep inside.

“Stay,” she pleaded, arching as she came undone under him. Once again, he couldn’t deny her. He met his end with a shudder and a low moan of her name.

He spilled himself over his knuckles and stomach, his chest heaving as he rode the wave of pleasure. His mind went blissfully silent, clear for the first time since all this had begun. He had overreacted again. If she hadn’t wanted his attention, she would have said so. Veronica was not a woman easily forced into things. He smiled ruefully as he imagined the exasperated interrogation he would no doubt get later and struggled to his feet on unsteady legs. There was no reason to lounge around covered in his own seed. The quicker he got cleaned up and faced her, the better.

A knock on the door sent him scrambling to his washroom with a hissed string of curses falling from his mouth as he scrubbed away the evidence of his lusty imaginings.

“Just a minute!” he called, stepping into a clean pair of trousers, and shrugged on a clean shirt. He opened the door and his heart plummeted. Veronica stood there in all her splendor, freshly bathed and dressed in a finely tailored emerald green jacket. He knew her trousers stretched perfectly across her plump, perky rear. Just the thought of it and what he could do with her fine silk ascot was enough to get him feeling hot all over again.

“May I come in?” she asked. He swallowed and nodded, stepping aside for her. Goddess, he hoped he didn’t smell too much like sex.

“Are you well, Ronnie?” he asked.

“Perfectly, I just thought that maybe you’d like to…” she came to stand toe to toe with him, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind his ear, “finish what you started.” Her words went straight to his cock, and he shuddered in response. “Unless you’ve tired yourself out, of course.” She gave him a cheeky grin, and he felt color rise in his cheeks.

“I would… like that very much.” He would show her just how much it would take to tire him out. They would see who tapped out first.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fe #fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem 16 #fe 16 #fe 3h #lemons

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