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animasola86 · 8 months ago

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A Demonstration of Power and Support

Notes: This is a continuation of Scars and Peace and Comfort, but can be read individually.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader (with a face scar)

Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 6.3k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: He gave you confidence, you gave him a bad case of jealousy.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Size difference. Age gap. Established student/teacher relationship. Jealousy. Rough sex.

A Demonstration of Power and Support

There it was again. That giggle that made his blood boil and his trousers tighten. Looking up from his desk, he saw you laughing with the boys you shared a potion station with. You were happy, smiling, giggling, enjoying yourself, and seeing you like that should make him happy too, but it wasn't you he was glaring at, it was those boys who kept engaging with you, smirking, joking, flirting.

He knew there'd be a downside to your newly acquired confidence. Others would notice it too. And even though he was proud of you for wearing your scar with so much pride now, it pained him to see you with other men, other boys, who would look at you the same way he looked at you, and he hated them and he hated himself for not being able to control his emotions better.

He called you out by your name, the formal way he hadn't called you in so long. You stiffened immediately, the giggle dying in your throat as you turned around to him, a deep blush on your cheeks. “Focus on your potion!” he told you sternly, his gaze dark, his usual demeanour, really, but it made your stomach turn because he was never like that with you. Never, not even before you were more than student and teacher.

You lowered your head, and he saw your lips quivering. “Yes, professor,” you said docilely. “I'm sorry, professor.”

His heart broke a little when he saw you so defeated, the happiness wiped straight from your beautiful face as you returned to your cauldron, staring into it, as you forced yourself not to get too emotional over his unexpected outburst.

You even ignored the boys around you now. Despite feeling bad for calling you out publicly, he watched with grim satisfaction how his students returned to their work. There was no more giggling.

After class, he sat at his desk, sunken over essays and other papers, when he heard quiet footsteps echo through the empty classroom. “No office hours today,” he said gruffly without looking up. He was definitely not in the mood to deal with any stupid questions right now.

“I'm sorry,” a timid voice replied, and he looked up quickly to see you standing a few feet away from the table, your hands clenched in front of you, your eyes glued to the floor. You were about to turn around again, your face sunken, hurt by his rejection, but he quickly extended a hand towards you.

“Wait...” he called with a heavy sigh, hating himself even more for being... who he was.

You looked up at him, biting your lip before you slowly walked closer, staring at his hand. Your eyes finally met his, dark and intimidating, and you hesitated before you placed your small hand into his larger one.

He quickly closed his fingers around it and pulled you towards him. A gasp escaped you, and your eyes widened slightly. You stopped next to his chair, shoulders still slumped, as you awaited another lecture.

But he just squeezed your hand gently, his dark gaze wandering over your face. He was tempted to raise his other hand and caress your flushed cheek and your scars, but he was well aware that his classroom might be empty, yet the door was open, and despite wanting to show everyone who you belonged to, he couldn't. He never could, not here, not anywhere in public.

And that was what hurt the most.

“I'm sorry,” you said again, your voice so quiet and fragile. “I didn't mean to... disrupt your class...”

He groaned, rubbing his tired eyes. “Please, forget about that. I shouldn't have called you out like that. I'm sorry,” he added, looking up at you from his seat as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand. “I suppose I'm just... grumpy today,” he added, a twinkle in his eyes as he recited the word you had called him before, in good fun though.

You weren't always this meek around him, especially when the two of you were alone. And he loved that about you. You were never intimidated by his gruff nature, you even teased him about it on occasion. But when you were in his classroom, you were just another student, and he admired you for it, admired the shift when everyone else poured out and you were finally alone with him.

When nobody was watching, you couldn't stop yourself from touching him, throwing your arms around him, pressing yourself against him, your tiny body moulding to his bigger one.

But now you were different, barely able to look at him as you stared at your hand in his. He saw the struggle on your face, and he sighed.

“Do you... still want me to come over tonight?” you whispered timidly, your voice shaking.

He grabbed your other hand then and made you look at him in surprise. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said softly, frowning at you. “I'm always looking forward to seeing you.” He exhaled loudly again, cradling both of your hands between his long fingers. “Don't let the gruff exterior fool you.”

He saw your lips twitching before you smiled shyly at him, your cheeks bright red.

A sudden noise from the door made him turn his head, and when he noticed the boy standing there, waiting for you apparently, he slowly, inconspicuously, let go of your hands and leaned back, clearing his throat.

“That'll be all,” he said loudly, throwing you a gaze you hopefully didn't interpret as another scowl, and you turned your head away for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

“Thank you, professor,” you played along, and he gave you the hint of a wink as he watched you go, his eyes roaming your small form, before you joined your classmate and were gone from his view.

Feeling his stomach tightening at the sight, he sighed deeply and rubbed his bearded chin. He really should have known better than to allow himself to be this affected by a student...

‎

When you sneaked into his quarters after dinner, he was waiting in the large armchair by the fireplace. As soon as the door opened and closed by invisible hands, he stood with a deep groan and slowly walked towards your disillusioned form. You had barely lifted the charm, when he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you against his broad chest.

You gasped but were quick to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against him. He held you close and kissed the top of your head.

“Thanks for coming,” he growled quietly, making you lean back enough to tilt your chin up and look at him, a confused frown on your beautiful face.

“Of course,” you whispered, your eyes scanning his hard face. You were about to raise a hand and touch his rough jaw, when he closed his hand around your wrist and took a step back.

“Come with me,” he said and pulled you along to the large fireplace.

You looked towards the entryway to his bedroom, then up at him in confusion. “No massage tonight?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he grunted. “I've taken my potions, I'm fine...” He knew he didn't look fine, face tense, deep shadows under his dark eyes, jaw clenched. But unlike you, he knew he was tense for a different reason, and he could no longer wait to relieve that growing tightness.

He stopped in front of the fireplace and put his wand to the stone ornament in the middle of the mantelpiece, and with a low rumble, the secret passage behind it opened. He extinguished the fire and bent down slightly to traverse the tight space, holding out his hand to you.

You grabbed it, a mixture of confusion and excitement grazing your delicate features. Once you were on the other side of the fireplace, you noticed the staircase in front of you. “What is this?” you asked curiously, but he just dragged you after him, up the stairs, surprisingly fast despite his limping walk.

You reached a small room, and for a moment, you just stared. There were easels all around, with drawings and sketches of landscapes and buildings, charcoal, quills, brushes and other drawing equipment lying on all kinds of surfaces, bookcases and shelves lined the walls, and the spaces between them were filled with murals of mythical creatures. There were wooden dummies standing and sitting on the furniture, and a wood carving station at the other end of the room. But the most prominent feature was the large, sturdy looking table in the middle, long and wide like a small bed, and it was completely empty.

But not for long. While you still looked around the small space in awe, so many questions on your mind, he had stepped behind you and picked you up on his arms, and you shriek-laughed in surprise. You knew he was strong, despite the state of his body, but he had never carried you like this before. There was a certain warmth pooling in your cheeks, and elsewhere.

To be fair he didn't walk long before he set you down on the edge of the large table. For a moment he stood there, towering over you, his eyes dark and his face set, and you looked up at him with your heart racing and your lips trembling, and (shamefully) your core throbbing.

He licked his lips then and stepped closer, his hands gently prying your thighs apart as he stepped between them, pushing your skirt up tantalisingly slow. His calloused fingers glided over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You felt dizzy when they reached your centre. His fingertips teased against the fabric of your undergarments, poking and prodding, and he hummed deeply when he felt a wet patch forming. “Excited, aren't you?” he whispered and leaned over you until his breath ghosted your flushed cheeks. Not sure if he wanted an answer or not, you just nodded, chewing on your lips nervously.

He gave you a dark grimace, lowering his head, and when you felt his fingers pushing the thick fabric of your underwear deeper between your folds, he pressed his lips to yours for a heated kiss that quickly left you breathless for multiple reasons. Your heart was racing as your eyelids fluttered shut, his tongue very demanding tonight as it slipped into your mouth and tangled with yours.

You moaned against his lips as he started rubbing the pad of his finger between your still cloth covered lower lips, teasing against your entrance and brushing against your clit. More mewls left you when his free hand grabbed the back of your head, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you like he might have never kissed you before. He barely left you the chance to breathe, and in his iron grip, you couldn't turn your head away.

Feeling light-headed, you just succumbed to the sensation, kissing him back with as much fervour as you could muster, while he kept moving his finger against your throbbing centre, the chafing fabric creating a friction that burned deliciously. A deep whimper escaped your throat, and he finally leaned away, his lips looking as swollen as yours felt. Licking them, you looked up at him, the blush from your face quickly spreading all over your body.

He straightened up fully, in all his intimidating glory as he glowered down at you. His eyes remained on yours as his hands slipped under the waistband of your underwear and slowly pushed down, and you almost didn't notice the small tug when he asked you to lift your rear. You did, your shaking hands clawing at the edge of the table as you watched him pull your bloomers down your legs before they were unceremoniously tossed aside.

Your chest rose and fell quicker when he spread your legs even further with his hands firmly on your upper thighs, his fingers almost completely circling them while his thumbs rubbed against your sensitive skin. A cold breeze wafted over your exposed mound, your clit throbbing in anticipation. He tilted his head when he looked down, his eyes roaming your body.

You almost shrieked when he suddenly pulled a stool closer, the scraping sound cutting through your tense nerves like a stab to the heart. Pressing your lips together to keep your noises down, you watched him sitting down on the stool, and now he was really looking at you. His elbows pressed your legs apart as he stared at your sex, fully on display for him.

Squirming slightly, you felt a little uncomfortable with him inspecting you like that, not that he hadn't seen it before, but never with such intensity. You let out a little squeal when he moved one of his hands to gently cup your mound, his whole palm pressed to it, covering it, and when he looked up at you, the familiar warmth was back in his eyes. You breathed a little easier when he reached his other hand up and caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, coaxing a shy smile from you.

He loved seeing you like that, confused, embarrassed, submissive, and highly aroused. Holding your gaze for another moment, he rubbed his hand over your wet folds, gathering your slick on his palm. When he finally bent a finger and slipped it between your lower lips, he watched you closely, and as a soft squelching sound rang in his ears, he saw you writhing in discomfort, frowning slightly, but it made him smile at you, and your embarrassment was quickly forgotten.

His finger moved between your folds before he dipped it gently into your entrance, and you accepted him easily with how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you, and he saw how you tightened your grip on the table, your knuckles turning white. He pushed the finger in as far as it would go, feeling your walls clenching around it, then withdrew it and added another finger. Your breath hitched at the slight stretch, but he kept going, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, twisting and turning them until he curled them in a come hither motion – and caused you to yelp and squirm against his hand.

With a dark smile, he pressed against that sensitive spot again and again, watching you twitch on the table, your lips parted and trembling, soft little mewls falling from them. And then he pushed his thumb against your clit, hitting your pleasure points in tandem, and you lost it, thrashing your head back, your thighs convulsing against him, your noises tumbling out of you without control. He stood then, his hand still gripping your cunt tightly as he leaned in to capture your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries as you climaxed hard around his fingers.

Your release coated his hand, and he slowly eased his grip, rubbing your insides softly while you came down from your high. Kissing you gently, he watched you with eager eyes, taking in every single twitch, and when he leaned away, you were breathing hard and shaking badly. He pulled his fingers out of your clenching cunt and raised them to your face.

Despite your haze, you slowly unclenched your trembling hands from around the edge of the table and cradled his wet fingers between them before you brought them to your mouth, and when you started licking your slick off his skin, you held his gaze, and the hunger within your eyes made his erection strain against his trousers.

His breath hitched as he watched (and felt) your small tongue flicking around his long fingers, licking up every single drop of wetness, you even put them into your mouth, hollowed your cheeks and sucked on them hard, and he was tempted to press them deeper, watch you really lose control when you would gag around them, struggling to breathe, but instead he tugged at them and you released them with a wet pop. You almost sighed in disappointment when he lowered his hand that was glistening in your saliva.

He wiped it on his leg and licked his lips, slowly tilting his head before he nodded at you, a simple, curt nod, and when his eyes left yours to look down at where his groin pressed against the table, holding your spread legs wide open, you nodded back and moved your small hands towards the buttons of his trousers. You were quick as usual, and when his hard erection sprang free from its confines, he saw your eyes widening slightly as you blushed even deeper.

The same way that he had inspected your cunt earlier, you were now looking at his cock, taking in every single detail, from the springy darkened head to the bulging veins and impressive length and girth of it, and you felt a new wave of moisture seeping out of your waiting hole. The sheer necessity to have him inside you made you squirm on the table, needy little mewls escaping your throat. His desire to be inside of you was equally high, but he only let out a deep grunt when your hands closed around his shaft and stroked it almost roughly.

You writhed on the edge, slowly scooting closer, eager to connect with him finally, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. Looking up at him with your lips parted in surprise, he took in your youthful face, the innocence edged into your soft features, but your eyes and the way your lips quivered told a different story. And he could have stared at you for a very long time, despite the throbbing need resting in your hands, but in the end the carnal lust won.

He pried your hands from his cock and grabbed your waist, and without much effort he flipped you on the table, made you lie down on your stomach with your legs hanging off, your surprised yelp squeezed out of you as he gripped your hair and pressed your cheek into the cold wooden surface. Then he grabbed your ankles and brought your knees up, causing your rear to rise in front of him, your skirt bunched up on your lower back, exposing every glistening fold to his viewing pleasure.

You were barely able to adjust to the new position when you felt his hard member slapping against your wetness. Your hands found the opposite side of the table just in time when he pressed his tip against your entrance. Bracing yourself, you felt him pushing in, slowly, carefully, but as soon as your walls clenched around his head and pulled him in more, he snapped his hips against you hard and buried his entire length inside you. The deep thrust pushed you over the table and the sudden stretch coaxed a shrill shriek out of you.

He held onto your ankles, his body flush with the edge of the table, caging you in, holding you in place, as he started pulling out and pushing back in, out and in, in and out, slow and deliberate, over and over again, and you mewled under the constant friction, your body melting into the table. Once he found his rhythm, his big hands wandered to your tiny waist, closing around it, his long fingers grazing your stomach, and then he really started to pound into you.

Your noises grew louder, as did the wet squelching sounds as your pussy fluttered around him, muscles clenching, a burning warmth gathering inside you. You sank your nails into the old wood, holding on for dear life as his pelvis smacked against your cushioned arse in quick succession. His own grunts filled your ears, adding to the tension building up in your belly, those deep vibrations pushing you right over the edge.

You cried out when your walls clamped around him, that tight coil within exploding into a thousand tiny lights that made your entire body convulse against him. He felt your orgasmic contractions, and despite the soreness in his leg, he kept fucking you through your release, your juices helping in easing your tight passage, but he still strained to keep his rhythm. His fingers dug into your soft skin, and he felt a bead of sweat running along his temple.

He might have overdone it tonight, adding that certain potion to the many others he had to take on the daily to soothe the pain, but his desire to dominate you properly had been too strong. Seeing you with those boys had made him incredibly jealous, not that he would ever admit to it or even tell you so, but he had felt it in his gut, and the moment you had stepped over his threshold, he had known he had to show you that you'd never need anyone but him.

At least for as long as you were blessed with each other's presence.

Closing his eyes, he continued his relentless assault on your clenching cunt, your moans and whimpers giving him the necessary strength to move even faster and harder and deeper, and each time he smacked against your cervix, you would yelp and mewl and convulse in his iron grip on your waist.

It didn't take long for you to come once more, your limbs twitching uncontrollably as your juices gushed past the tight grip of your walls while his cock kept pistoning in and out, squeezed by your orgasm, and finally he felt his balls tighten, that painful tension in his stomach easing when he gave you one last deep thrust before he came inside you, painting your insides with his seed, marking you as his.

He groaned and stilled against you, holding you pressed to his pelvis as he leaned over you slightly, his weight making your knees quake before they slipped from beneath you, and you slumped to the table, legs hanging off bonelessly, gasping for air as his body pushed heavy on yours, his cock gliding even deeper, twitching and throbbing inside you.

You felt dizzy and were still seeing stars when he eventually leaned back, easing the vice-like grip of his fingers on your bruised waist. You didn't care. You felt more bruises blooming in and on your body, so it didn't matter either way. The releases he allowed you were worth the rough handling.

And apparently he wasn't done yet. While he slipped out of your tight cunt, with your combined juices seeping out of you and down your legs, you admired his stamina and wondered how he was able to even stand so straight and tall after the unusual exertion. He almost never took you like this, you usually found positions that wouldn't strain his stiff leg, but he had been weird the whole day, and as long as he seemed fine with this, you couldn't care less.

Your mind was spinning, the sensations still whirling in your head (and throbbing in your sex), and they jumbled about even more when he suddenly flipped you onto your back again, your limp legs flopping over the edge of the table as you blinked up at him.

He stood tall and intimidating between your twitching thighs, his hands rubbing along your hips as his dark eyes roamed your face and body. While you tried to sit up, leaning on your elbows despite the shudders crushing through your body, he didn't wait long to continue your adventure. Your eyes snapped to his still erect cock, and you blinked in confusion. He had just emptied himself inside you, how was he still that hard?

It didn't matter in the end when he grabbed his length and pressed it against your entrance once more, easily slipping inside, the loud squelching noise as he pushed his seed back into you causing goosebumps to ripple over your bare legs. The stretch made you inhale sharply, but you quickly adjusted, and not a moment too soon as he started grinding his hips into you, every slam hitting your bruised cervix.

You let out a pained whimper every time he did, but the more he moved inside you, the more pleasure you felt in the motion. Your whole body was on fire, and you wished you wouldn't wear all these layers of your uniform as sweat coated your skin and drenched your clothes. You felt him moving slower until he stopped completely, deeply buried within your warmth.

When you looked up at him, his already very dark eyes were so black and intense, you felt cold shivers running down your spine. Swallowing hard, you tried to sit up more, your hands propped up behind you, but you wanted to touch him, feel the tension in his muscles, the strength in his grip. Ease the darkness away that seemed to grip him tightly tonight.

But you couldn't move, couldn't say anything, you felt like a bunny cornered by the big bad wolf, pinned down by his big paws (and massive cock), rendered unable to even breathe as he stared down at you. A meek little whine escaped you as he suddenly leaned over you, one arm propped on the table next to you, the other hand extended to brush his thumb against your cheek as his fingers slid into your hair. You felt the rough pad following the protruding lines of your scar all the way over your eye to your split eyebrow, and you quickly closed your eyes to allow him the motion.

He moved it back down, the touch gentle but also firm, and when he gripped your hair, you yelped and your eyes flew open again. He held you in place like that, staring straight into your soul, and you felt yourself melting into his gaze.

Seeing you so submissive, surrendering to him so completely, made his heart race. There was a dark shadow creeping around the edge of his vision and deeper into his very being. He had never felt this possessive before, never this demanding. He'd never been this rough to you, either, and by watching your lips trembling, your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your whole body quaking against and around him, he knew he had been a little too rough.

And still he was far from regretting anything. He couldn't. He wasn't done yet.

His hand tightened around your head and pulled you closer to him, and as soon as the strained mewl left your throat, he had claimed your mouth and kissed you deeply. You hummed against him, despite everything kissing him back with fervour, your hands finding his arm as you held onto him while he gripped your hair.

As he slipped his tongue between your lips, he started moving within you again, slow, deliberate thrusts, and your cunt replied in full when it started clenching around him. He swallowed your moans and whimpers before he let you catch your breath and kissed your cheek, then your scar, licking up the sweat from your temple, until he pulled your earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on it, his stubble scraping over your soft skin. Your breaths were loud in his ear, and a deep shudder crashed through him as a particularly sensual mewl slipped from your swollen lips.

A grunt escaped him, and he bit your ear playfully before leaning back fully, staring down at you darkly. “Get your tits out,” he commanded roughly, still rolling his hips into you as you scrambled to prop yourself up on your elbows after he had let you go rather unceremoniously.

Despite the vulgar tone you had never heard him use before, you quickly fumbled with the buttons of your shirt, your fingers shaking badly, but eventually you pushed all those layers aside and freed your small breasts.

His big hands closed around them, kneaded them anything but gently, and you whimpered quietly, squirming on the table. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, then pinched them so hard you let out a surprised yelp.

His gaze was dark, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. After a few moments of groping your soft mounds, he let them go and grabbed your hands and placed them on your chest. “Play with them,” he ordered, and you did, fondling them much more carefully, easing the aching his touch had left.

He watched you grimly, his hands moving back to your waist, fingers digging into the bunched up fabric of your skirt, before he slammed his hips against your pulsing centre in harder motions again. You cried out when his cock pushed against your battered cervix, but he kept going, giving you those slow but powerful thrusts that went deep and left you breathless.

Your fingers clawed at your breasts in support, your breaths as erratic as your heartbeat, as he pushed you up and down the table, your bare bottom scraping over the wooden surface every time he pulled you into the snap of his hips.

You wanted to watch him, observe the strain on his weathered face, how his eyebrows furrowed in dark concentration, how he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, the deep rumbles escaping his throat the only audible sign of his exertion, but you soon succumbed to his pounding strokes as your eyes rolled back and you sank your fingernails into your own soft mounds while you clenched tighter around him.

He looked at you, your tiny body so fragile before him, the state of it absolutely feral with your open shirt, your small hands holding onto your breasts, your hair stuck to your sweaty skin, your lips raw and quivering, your eyelids fluttering, while he slammed his cock into your spluttering wetness, your legs limp and boneless as they bounced against him with every rough impact.

Despite the immense pleasure this brought him, he felt horrible, for the way he treated you, for how he spoke to you, for his own stupid jealousy. As if it was your fault that those pesky boys suddenly noticed you, if anything, it was his fault for giving you the confidence to walk about proudly, with no care in the world, especially not about those lines that grazed your cheek.

The worst part was that you didn't give him any reason to be jealous. You had come to him after class, with your head hanging, confused by his bad mood, afraid of his rejection. And you still wanted to see him, spend the night with him, be with him despite everything. And all he wanted was to prove to you that he was the only one you'd ever need, when in reality you seemed to already know that.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he stilled inside you, eased his rapid rhythm, and when he looked at you again, you were still barely able to meet his gaze. He moved his large hands around your limp body and lifted you up, pressed you to his chest, held you close, save and protected, before he started moving again, slow and gentle, not as deep so he wouldn't hurt you any more, and not as fast so he wouldn't overwhelm you.

You slowly came to in his arms, fingers clawing at the front of his waistcoat as you tilted your chin to look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over and your pupils dilated, you looked utterly spent already. He leaned down and kissed your sweaty forehead, and you smiled softly at the gentle touch. Another reason why he absolutely did not deserve such a sweet little girl: you were too forgiving (and not a girl per se, not anymore, he had made sure of that).

He shifted you in his hold, one hand under your rear, the other flat on your back, fingers curling around your shoulder. The new position seemed to wake you up more again, and you slowly wrapped your legs around his hips, holding onto him, trying to take some of your weight off his arms, not that you weighed anything in his eyes, you were a mere doll in his hands.

Still you gripped his broad shoulders and started moving your hips against him, meeting his gentle thrusts with more fervour than he would have expected of you in your somewhat battered state. He couldn't help but underestimate you sometimes, given your age and size, though that usually made him admire you even more when you proved him wrong, because you were more resilient than he thought, stronger, braver, and needier.

And by how tight your cunt clenched around his cock, you were very needy at the moment. Together you found a fast rhythm, as you bounced against him and he snapped his hips upwards, he was so focused he didn't even notice the dull ache in his leg, and when you started mewling again, he closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the sweet sounds as he drove you closer to the edge.

You and himself, to be exact, because when you suddenly convulsed against him, your legs holding him in a death grip while you sank your fingernails into the thick layers of his clothes, you grabbed him by the cravat and pulled him right along into the blissful abyss.

Crying out loudly, you came around him hard, your muscles contracting, squeezing him, and he twitched with you, embracing you tightly as he groaned and grunted, his hips giving you jerky little stabs before he pushed deep and stopped, pressing your tiny body against his, holding you in place as he erupted inside you, filling you with his hot seed once more. You moaned into his chest as you spasmed against him.

He felt his strength waning and collapsed onto the stool next to the table with a pained growl, your frame still cradled on his lap, still impaled by his softening length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned against him, both of you slowly coming down from the high that made your head spin and his heart race.

“Are you okay?” He was the first to speak, even though his voice sounded raw and gruffer than usual.

“I wanted to ask you the same thing,” you whispered back, slowly looking up at him, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

His dark eyes met yours. “I'll be fine,” he said, too tired to smile. “Did I hurt you?” he then added, not too tired to frown at you.

You shook your head. You'd be sore tomorrow, for sure, but you usually were when you'd been with him, and you'd become quite used to it. Maybe you even liked it (a lot, you liked it a lot). It was a constant reminder that this big strong man had accepted and invited you into his life, and you'd do anything to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He watched you closely, definitely doubting your reply. But he didn't press it, he only pressed you, closer to his chest. You inhaled deeply and smiled at him, slowly raising a hand to move your fingertips over his strong jaw up along the ragged lines of his scar and back down again. The sound of his beard scraping against your skin sent shivers down your spine and made you clench around him.

Shifting beneath you, he exhaled loudly. Despite your weak state (and the growing desire to do it all over again), you noticed the strain in his movements. He was in pain, that much was clear. And you felt guilty for not seeing it earlier. Before he could move, you loosened your limbs around him, grabbed his shoulders and stood on shaking limbs before you lifted yourself off him. Your walls protested, clinging to him, but then he slipped out of you, and you sighed deeply at the loss.

Leaning against the table (because you'd fall over otherwise), you held out your hands to him, and even though he usually refused that gesture out of pride, he grabbed them and let you help him pull himself to his feet. As soon as he stood, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and held him close (and steady). He rubbed his hand over your back, his other arm propped on the table for support.

While he tried to find his bearings, you quickly tucked his spent cock away again and buttoned his trousers. You didn't care how you looked, though, so you left your shirt wide open. The cold breeze on your heated skin felt nice, and you were sure he didn't mind the view.

You remained close to him when he started walking, slow and careful, each step coaxing a quiet groan out of him. You knew you weren't of much help, he couldn't really lean on you with how tiny you were compared to him, but you still steadied him, and even if he would never admit to it, he was grateful that you did these things so nonchalantly. There was no pity, just support, unwavering support. He held onto you as you both left the hidden room and descended the many steps down to his quarters where he knew you'd take good care of him after he had taken so good care of you.

“By the way, what is that room?” you asked quietly, curious eyes looking up at him.

“My... hobby room,” he replied hesitantly, his voice rough and low, vibrating through him (and you). “But I haven't been up there in a while,” he added, his dark eyes boring into yours.

“Found a new hobby, eh?” you concluded with a smirk that warmed your cheeks – and surprisingly so: his too.

His arm tightened around you, his lips twitching slightly. “Possibly.”

NEXT PART: A Demonstration of Pride and Pain

End notes: In the end, our grumpy old man is just another ambitious, possessive Slytherin that struggles with his jealousy, right?

(Also to clear things up because I tend to be really vague about these things in my writing: he "enhanced" himself (via an unnamed potion) that night to last longer to show her that she doesn't need those young boys who might be better suited for her, she only needs him, and of course, she already knows that, but still adores it when he dominates her like that. Because who wouldn't...)

And on another note: his secret hobby room, right? I just can't see him walking up all those stairs, or even crouching through the fireplace, but then again he has to brave all of Hogwarts' staircases too, so what's one more or two or three? And I know the room might just be an Easter egg like display for some concept art or whatnot, but I can totally see him drawing and sketching and whittling away in there, just sitting and working with his hands, because what else can he do, hm?

Seriously, the more I write for him, the better I get his character, and it intrigues me more and more, and I feel I've only scratched the surface still.

Edit: I have now written a fourth part (see link above!), and I am thinking about more (and maybe you could do that too? I am open for ideas/requests!). So stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading my little Sexy Times with Sharp Series.

[ MORE SHARP SMUT ] [ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #hogwarts legacy smut #professor sharp #professor sharp smut #professor sharp x mc #professor sharp x reader #professor aesop sharp #fluff #smut #mysmut #daddy sharp

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 7 months ago

Text

Advanced Studies in Love

A direct sequel to Teaching Love.

Professor Sharp and his young lover make the most of their little weekend getaway. She may be inexperienced, but more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Perhaps slightly too much enthusiasm...

A huge thanks to my brilliant consultant and friend @tea-withjamandbread who is the author of the brilliant line at the very end, and also Maarty for her continuous support ❤

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

[FULL PCITURE]

Advanced Studies in Love (11.8k words)

tw: teacher-student relationship, age gap (reader is an adult), explicit sexual content, oral sex, vaginal sex, attempts at humour, dirty talking

“I think that’s enough - we needn’t pick the entire forest, dear,” came the potions master’s baritone from right behind you. You weren’t startled to hear and feel him so close to you so suddenly, however. You were hyper aware of his body and his proximity to your own ever since the two of you awoke, your limbs tangled and bodies still humming with the pleasure you shared the previous night.

Aesop took the two of you away from the school for the weekend, so that you’d be able to be entirely alone, free to enjoy the comfort of each other’s arms without having to worry about anyone coming to disturb you. And disturbed you were not - the only sound in the bedroom of the quaint cottage was the gentle rapping of raindrops against the window, as well as the combined sounds of your arousal. Hands mapped out and explored the newly uncovered body parts, lips and tongues tasted at the other’s perspiration. Aesop broke you apart, and then proceeded to put you back together until you were reduced into a gasping, moaning mess.

And when he took you for the first very time, you immediately grew addicted to having him this close, to be so intimately connected with him in a perfect fit. Even now, as your hands were getting progressively fuller and fuller with ingredients the teacher told you to gather, you bit down on your lower lip in memory of what it was like, to have him fill you up so entirely. His body atop yours, hot and heavy, and smelling so good. Each small little shift he made in his position you could feel tenfold, your core quivering around the large, throbbing intruder. His hot breath against your breast and nipple as he panted at the sensations your tightness gave him. And once the pain and discomfort passed, all that remained was him, the pleasure he bestowed upon you, and the love that crackled and burned around you.

The memory of the drag of his pubic bone across your sensitive nub when he started to thrust within you, and the jolt of white-hot pleasure that sent a tornado of sensations through your whole self made your thighs press together unconsciously, and you knew your face was red as a beet as you let your mind indulge in the recent memories, your hands busy with properly harvesting the flowers and herbs.

You wanted more. You needed more. As much as he was willing to give you. And in return, you were ready to give yourself to him entirely - after all, there was no safer pair of arms within which you could be.

“Hm, look at you,” his voice dropped until it was nothing more than a mere rumble, his breath tickling your ear. How were you ever able to focus in his class, when such four simple words spoken in his voice made your knees nearly buckle right under you. “I ought to mention to professor Garlick just how efficient you are at harvesting plants - I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do so this quickly… It’s almost like you want us to finish up as soon as possible.”

You were frozen on the spot, your eyes closed, body tense, face hot and red, even as he pulled away with a chuckle, seeming as cool and unbothered as he was five minutes ago. “Think we should perhaps gather some aconite as well while we’re here - exams are nearing, students will come to beg Nurse Blainey for Wideye potions…” he continued as if he just didn’t make your heart beat the speed of a racing dragon.

“Half a satchel should suffice, I’ve got some more in my stores… Sweetheart?” he finally looked at you more closely. His face getting a bit worried, he came forward and closer to you once more, his limp somehow seeming less severe than it was the previous day. A large hand made contact with your cheek gently, and he pulled your face up to be able to look at you. The realisation in his eyes made your own flutter. It must’ve been completely obvious to him; your face flushed, pupils dilated, heartbeat elevated and easily feelable through his fingertips.

“Merlin’s beard,” he breathed out, his voice a mix of amazement, appreciation and something that sounded like a hint of… smugness? The potions master took a deep breath even as a small smirk played upon his mouth. Your gaze dropped towards his lips, slightly chapped and thin, but you knew better. These were the lips of a man who knew exactly what to do with them and how, and a fresh wave of hotness rushed into your face and through your body.

His large, strong hands proceeded to take hold of your hips, kneading the flesh on them rather roughly, and prompting a small gasp to leave your lips. “No way,” he spoke again, amazement still palpable with his tone, but his mouth spread wider, the look in his eyes got darker. Suddenly, he turned quickly, still holding your hips in a vice grip. Your back made sudden (but not very hard) contact with the bark of a tree trunk, and not a second later was his strong body pressing you further against the wood. Your knees shook and threatened to give out.

A pair of hot lips chased your own down in a heated, fervent kiss, one that you hungrily reciprocated. Or tried your best to, at least. A clever tongue invaded your mouth and you felt yourself getting drunk on Aesop’s taste. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you moaned into the kiss, prompting him to pull back somewhat, before diving back in. After several minutes of fervent assault on your mouth that left you gasping for air, his kisses got sweeter, softer, less frantic, until they stopped altogether, and he simply remained in your personal space, his nose brushing against your own, your hot breaths mingling, and cool the saliva glistening on your lips.

Aesop smiled once more, the smugness replaced by amazement again: “Bloody hell,” he whispered, “I can’t even remember the last time I was able to… Get such a reaction out of a woman with just my words…”

His voice was calm and sweet, but you could hear the hint of hunger inside it. But even if you hadn’t, it was so very obvious in his eyes. He craved you as much as you craved him, maybe even more. How was he able to restrain himself, when you weren’t certain you would be able to say ‘no’ if he wanted to take you right now against this very tree, was beyond you…

His lips teased at your ear, and tongue danced across your jaw in a slow, sensual massage, and you felt about ready to drop dead… Or be dropped on the ground and ravished.

And then…

The sensations were gone. Instead his hands gently cupped your cheeks, and he gave you a small peck upon your open mouth. The potions master grinned: “Why don’t you fetch some of that aconite we saw earlier by that little meadow and meet me back here. Shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes. Then we’ll be off.”

What.

He pulled back, the look on his face completely innocent as if he had not just made your brain shut down completely. “Off you go,” he prompted you to walk with a small swat across your buttocks, still looking perfectly proper and unbothered, but a single look down made you realise he wasn’t quite that unbothered. Smirking at him through the intense blush on your cheeks, you began walking in the direction he told you to, making sure to sway your hips ever so slightly more. “Remember to wear your gloves, I only brought so much antidote to common poisons,” he called behind you, him raising his voice like so further letting you know he was everything but unaffected by the several few minutes you shared.

You weren’t sure what exactly was his plan. Was he just teasing you, enjoying the power he suddenly had over you? Or did he find himself just as ravenous to continue your yesterday’s activities as yourself?

Nevertheless, you made quick work of the monkshood, making sure to pull the herbs out of the ground carefully so as to be able to get as much of the root as possible, and storing it in a new pocket of the magically enlarged satchel you were hauling around. You weren’t surprised to soon feel eyes on you, and therefore didn’t jump when Aesop cleared his throat shortly before speaking: “We’ve gathered a fair amount of ingredients today, more than I originally presumed we would. Therefore I think we can consider ourselves done for the day”

You turned to face him again. And your mouth opened in mild surprise. In one of Aesop’s hands was a small bouquet of wildflowers, ones he did not tell you to collect earlier. Though, judging by the way he presented them, you supposed there were no potions ingredients. You came closer, looking at him through your lashes with a smile. “What’s the occasion?” you questioned, taking hold of the offered bouquet. The teacher grinned: “I’m courting a beautiful young lady - flowers are an inseparable part of it. Although, well, considering our situation, I’m afraid this one is very very much overdue…” You chuckled in response.

“Come,” Aesop said then, voice quiet and so very alluring. His hand was extended towards you, and you wasted no time in pulling off your dragonhide gloves to be able to side-apparate with him.

After you got your bearings following the still slightly dizzying experience, you were flabbergasted to find yourself not back inside the small cottage but rather at… well, you did not know where exactly it was you currently were. “Uh, Aesop?” you asked, looking at him. The professor chuckled noiselessly: “What? I did tell you we were getting lunch in the small pub nearby. As much as I adore the stew we’ve got back in, eating only one meal all the time gets incredibly tiresome.”

You had to admit he was right in this regard. However, you were way more than a little excited to resume what you started in that meadow, making a little mental list of horizontal and vertical surfaces present in the cottage that might work for your intentions. “Oh,” you replied, “I thought… well…” His eyes connected with yours, knowing and mischievous at the same time: “Patience, my dear. You had a few nice ideas in the morning, and I had some as well, and we’ll be free to indulge in them in just a little bit. But now we need to eat, no point in dropping like flies due to exhaustion and malnutrition because we weren’t able to control ourselves… Besides, I have not cast a cooling charm on my poor trousers earlier just to now completely abandon the idea of having a nice lunch with you.”

You couldn’t help but grin at the thought of him having to cool down after your fiery interaction. He began leading you down a small path, and you soon heard the sound of people chattering and laughing. A small pub appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, nestled cosily among the trees. A couple of horses were whinnying nearby, standing some way in front of you on a dirt road and secured to a cart, out of which a gentleman was currently taking out a wooden crate to most likely deposit inside the pub.

“You two,” an older woman called at you from where she was standing by the door, “have you come to eat?” “That we have,” confirmed Aesop next to you, already leading you towards one of the nearby outside tables. The woman came closer, her hands behind her back. “Before we order,” said the potions master as you sat down onto the bench before the table, “would you please have a vase to lend us for a bit?” —

While Aesop busied himself sorting out the ingredients you collected earlier (“Trust me, while I’d love nothing more than throwing you on that bed right now, if these are not sorted and stored correctly, they’ll be rendered pretty much useless by the time we get back to the castle - professor Weasley knows I don’t make storing mistakes…”, he said), you took in the room once more. Such a curious place - not two things fit together, and it wasn’t exactly tidy, but it held an aura of peace, of comfort. And after yesterday (and hopefully today, and perhaps a bit tomorrow too), you knew you’d always regard this place with a special kind of affection. A place of love and passion, of discoveries, of tenderness. Your eyes once more caught the sight of the tub you noticed under one of the tables yesterday, and you remembered the plan Aesop proposed in the morning. Using your wand, you summoned the tub slowly into the middle of the room, making Aesop look up shortly from his work, which he laid on a desk on the other side of the room (after properly dusting it), shortly, raising an eyebrow. “What?” you grinned at him, “you were the one who proposed a bath. Although…” The tub looked spacious to you the day before, but now as you stood right in front of it, your eyes switching between the object and the tall man by the table, it no longer seemed that big.

“Although I’m not sure just how the two of us will fit in together.” “I’m certain we’ll manage,” Aesop replied with a furtive little smile, “why don’t you climb in, I’ll be done here soon.” And so you started slowly undressing, peeling your layers away and mindfully folding each article of clothing on one of the dressers. You felt his hungry eyes on you the entire time, and while your cheeks kept getting warmer and warmer, you didn’t acknowledge his gaze and instead focused on giving him a nice show, very slowly pulling your blouse over your head, giving him the perfect view of your chemise clinging to your form when you raised your arms.The rustling of him carefully putting away all of the gathered herbs and fungi got quieter and quieter, until it stopped when even the chemise was taken off and you were once more left in all of your naked glory, your body still bearing some signs of your passionate lovemaking yesterday. Your shoulder, in particular, held a perfect imprint of his teeth.

The tub was soon filled with water from your Aguamenti, and you proceeded to warm the water up with a heating charm. Of course, you had to make sure the temperature was perfect, so you were leaning against the tub with one hand in the water, arching your back ever so slightly and providing the professor who happened to stand directly behind you with a rather shameless display.

Finally, you turned to look at him, finding him gripping onto the edge of the desk, eyes dark and almost predatory, jaw hard-set. It was very obvious he was trying to stop himself from outright tackling you on the floor and showing you what you get for your teasing. “I think the temperature is perfect like this, but we can cool it down later if it’s too hot for you,” you chirped innocently, and began climbing into the tub. Slowly you let your body get used to the warm water, lowering yourself into a sitting position inch by inch. You sighed deeply once you were completely submerged, the water lapping sweetly at your shoulders.

“You, my darling,” Aesop spoke, his voice low with arousal, “are an impudent tease…” Yet he seemed a bit calmer now that your body was slightly more hidden from his eyes. Your only reply was a small grin.

You felt content to just lie back and relax for a bit - you wouldn’t admit it, but you did feel ever so slightly sore, and the warmth did wonders for you. The tub felt almost as if it was shaped exactly for you. How would Aesop fit in, you didn’t know. The man in question meanwhile, now free of distractions, finished up his work and systematically put away all of the ingredients you gathered, now perfectly organised and sorted, into a small trunk. You didn’t open your eyes, which you didn’t even realise you closed, even as you heard him slowly limping to where you were reclining in the tub. There was a low huff, and soon you felt his large hand upon the top of your thigh.

You looked at him to find him kneeling on his healthy knee, his chin resting on his free hand. “Did you know that you’re incredibly beautiful like this?” he asked softly, his palm sliding over the skin of your thigh under the surface of the water. Your voice was a mere whisper, the atmosphere taking on a deeply intimate energy: “Like what?”

A smile appeared on his ruggedly handsome face, and his hand rose from the water to stroke your cheek, dampening it: “Like this - flushed from the warmth, your hair getting wet from both the water licking at your shoulders, but also the steam coming off it, happy and relaxed. Completely breathtaking.” And with that, he leaned closer in order to place an incredibly gentle kiss against your pliant lips, content to just brush your mouths against one another for a bit.

He then rose to his feet again, using both hands to brace himself and pull himself up. A slightly surprised look crossed his face shortly at how easily he managed to stand up, but he merely shook his head in dismissal before beginning to shed his own layers. It was your turn to stare, as he once more revealed himself to you, and though his body was scarred and his leg lame, in your eyes he was the epitome of masculine beauty. You unconsciously licked at your lips as he bared himself before your gaze, his shoulders broad, chest strong, lean, nicely sculpted but not overly so, and so deliciously hirsute. You never knew just how attractive you’d find body hair, but the moment you saw him fully, you knew you couldn’t (and didn’t want to) ever imagine him without it.

You reached a tentative hand out, and he stopped folding his shirt to look at you. Putting the shirt away, he took one, two, three small steps over to the tub, so that you were able to touch him, and that’s exactly what you did. Droplets of water from your hand clung to the dark fur of his breast, and your fingers slowly brushed through it. The professor was breathing deeply, his eyes closed as you explored him again. You traced the shape of his muscles, drew a small circle with your thumb around his belly button, dragged your nails through the trail leading from there to his groin, prompting his breath to hitch and his lower stomach to twitch slightly. You then slid your hands over the sharp lines of his hips, before finally moving to undo his trousers and unbutton his pants.

You found him half hard already and throbbing gently, his pink glans just so peeking at you from underneath the foreskin which began to slide back with the member filling up. You sat up further to nuzzle your face into the coarse hair at his pubic bone, tongue coming out to taste the skin there. His scent was heady, heavy and musky, and you found it incredibly intoxicating.

A shudder broke through him at your ministrations, and you felt his cock throb again and stand a bit taller once more. However, just as you dipped your face lower to run your tongue over his root, both of his hands came to close around your head. You weren’t certain whether he meant to push you away, or pull you closer, and it seemed neither was he. In the end, he just held you to himself, breathing heavily, his fingers combing through your hair. You didn’t mind - far from it, actually. You revelled in his warmth, his scent, the salty taste of his skin as your tongue returned to prodding at the hairy skin of his pubic bone, and while you did want to take things further, you understood he had other ideas in mind for now.

“Soon…” he promised, breathless, “bath first…” he finally pulled your head back, and you were able to look at his face. He too was now flushed, his eyes darker than before, yet filled with tenderness: “You are driving me completely mad,” he said only before chasing your lips in a kiss once more.

He then reached for his wand which he laid upon a nearby little table while he was undressing and lightly tapped the edge of the tub. You found yourself squeaking quietly as you fell back a bit - the tub wall you were leaning against moved back, and the piece of furniture stretched itself in length and width, the water level dropping a bit. “Sorry,” he murmured with a grin, and, after ridding himself of the last articles of clothing, climbed in right behind you.

He groaned as he lowered himself into the water, pushing its level up again with his body volume. He then carefully manoeuvred you until your back was snuggly pressed into his chest, his long legs framed your own, his arms curled around your midsection, and his half-hard shaft was nestled between your bodies. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” you asked quietly, settling into the position. The professor only chuckled behind you, the flush fit of your bodies making you feel the rumble of his chest before you heard it: “I’ve got you in my arms and I’m sitting in a deliciously hot bath - how could I ever be uncomfortable?”

You let your head fall back until the back of it made contact with his shoulder. The professor immediately used this situation to begin pressing soft open-mouthed kisses along the length of your neck, and somehow they managed to be even hotter than the water. A bar of lightly blue soap materialised out of nowhere along with a washcloth that looked to be made from silk. You saw Aesop’s hands emerge from the water to take hold of both items, and then he slowly started lathering your chest with the soap. In the fragrance of it you recognised iris and chamomile, a combination that was very pleasant on your nose.Dropping the washcloth into the water and positioning the soap on the tub’s edge, his hands started spreading the soap around the front of your body, leaving bubbles and pleasure in their wake. The large hands danced around your torso, the touch both simple innocent washing of one’s body, and also incredibly erotic, especially so when his fingers went to tease at your nipples, pebbled from his ministrations. You turned your head to sigh against the skin of his neck.

Once he deemed your torso lathered enough, he took once again hold of the now wet washcloth and started slowly running it down your soapy body. You couldn’t deny that it felt completely incredible to be cared for like so, and found yourself wanting to return the favour. You made to turn around, but Aesop’s gentle hands on your shoulders stopped you.

“I want to wash you too,” you protested softly, prompting the man to chuckle. “I’ll let you,” he promised, “but you first, my sweet. Relax…”

And so you did as you were told and let him very gently manhandle you so that he was able to finish washing your body. His skilled hands managed to loosen some kinks in your back you didn’t even realise you had. Perhaps you had them there for so long, you didn’t even realise they were there anymore. As to when they got there, well, that wasn’t a difficult question to answer.

The first year at Hogwarts left your body in near constant ache; rolling around, dodging (and failing to dodge) enemy attacks, getting banged up during the Keeper trials, and during your many run-ins with poachers, goblins, ashwinders, trolls, the bloody horrible spiders… You wept after the first trial in San Bakar’s tower, bleeding from multiple places, pretty certain you suffered a light concussion. You weren’t sure you were able to handle more. And then it became apparent you had no choice. And you stopped weeping. These days you were faster and stronger, honing your skills during Crossed Wands duels and training sessions rather than battling criminals and goblins whose number greatly diminished following Rookwood and Ranrok’s fall, but it would seem some residue pain remained.

Now however you sighed deeply as Aesop worked his fingers to relieve you of it… You wished it was this simple for his leg too…

“Lean your head back for me, please…” he successfully pulled you out of your thoughts, and without really thinking about his request, you did lean your head back. Soon a herbal scent hit your nose, and you felt coldness running down your scalp. And then those deviously clever fingers were tangled in your hair, spreading the soothingly smelling shampoo through your damp locks, prompting pleasurable gooseflesh to appear at the nape of your neck.

The professor washed you thoroughly, seemingly enjoying himself as much as you were. When he was done, you turned your head in order to capture his lips once more, your faces wet from the light steam coming from the bath. “My turn,” you whispered against his mouth before slowly turning around, mindful not to accidentally sit on his bad leg. Aesop was far less careful and immediately wrapped his arms around you again to pull you to sit almost in his lap.

Following a few more deliciously hot kisses, you looked up at him: “Will you turn around so that I can bathe you as well?” Aesop looked to be thinking about what you said for a moment before a little grin appeared on his flushed lips: “No… I rather think I like having you right here.” His large hands were squeezing the flesh of your hips, the tips of his fingers sliding to the curve of your bottom. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Nevertheless you made it work: you reciprocated the attention he lavished on your body earlier, stroking his soapy back and massaging it as well as you could from your position.

You were hardly able to apply the same pressure from where you were sitting, but it seemed that Aesop didn’t mind at all. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, his lips slightly opened and face as relaxed as you only saw it when he was sleeping soundly.

Your hands moved to his front then, and they dipped into the bath before resurfacing again and spreading the hot water over the teacher’s hirsute chest, enjoying the feeling of the soft hair against your fingertips. You watched, deeply fascinated, how he reacted to certain touches. His breath hitched when your thumbs rubbed against his pink nipples, and the corner of his lips twitched when your nails danced on his sides, over his ribs. When you got to his head, your mouth latched onto his neck to press soft, open-mouthed kisses there, using the fact the professor’s head was tipped back.

And afterwards you returned your hands to his chest, except lower. His lower stomach gave a twitch again once your fingers once more teased at the trail of hair running from his belly button towards his crotch. Your hand fit seamlessly around the rapidly filling shaft again, and a gasp cut through the silence of the room. Aesop’s head fell against your shoulder, and his hands stroked at your back and hips. You gently pumped him to full stiffness again, feeling yourself becoming more and more aroused at seeing his cheeks getting even more flushed, his eyebrows arching up, and his face becoming a mask of pleasure.

“Let’s get out of here…” you offered, your voice nothing but a whisper, “I want to taste you…”

Contrasting his previous restraint, Aesop now scrambled to get out of the tub, though he made sure not to maim either of you in the process. Your wand left on one of the dressers, you automatically reached for his to find it buzzing pleasantly in your hand. It wasn’t the same feeling as wielding your own wand, but Aesop’s seemed nevertheless accepting to be handled by you. Casting a quick drying charm on the two of you, you once more put the wand down. Invading Aesop’s personal space, you put your hands on his now-dry chest and pushed him backwards. The teacher seemed content to let you take the lead, his cock standing to full attention and his eyes eating up every inch of your body.

When the back of his knees hit the bed, he swiftly grabbed you by the waist and fell backwards, both of you landing on the pleasantly firm mattress with a few small huffs. Exchanging another heated kiss, your hands slid down his body, the feeling both so new still and yet so familiar already. You then moved to bestow attention upon his skin using your lips, tongue, teeth. Aesop watched with hooded eyes as you slowly made your way down, making sure to pay special attention to places you previously noticed were especially sensitive.

And then you were face level with his groin at last, the large member throbbing every now and then, a small droplet of crystal clear fluid gathering at his exposed tip. He truly was impressively sized, and you wondered whether you’d be able to fit more than a few inches into your mouth. A gentle hand stroked at your hair: “Go slow, love. No matter what you do, know that I’ll be in heaven for every second of it, but I don’t want you to choke yourself on me.

You smiled at him gratefully before giving the shaft another few gentle strokes. And then, finally, you stuck your tongue out to lick a long stripe along his underside, from the root all the way to the dark pink glans, which made Aesop release a choked gasp. As you pressed your lips against him, you savoured the fusion of sensations. Underneath the faint aroma of soap you discovered the subtle taste of his clean, warm skin, his natural scent becoming more and more apparent with each swipe of your tongue against his member, soon overpowering the smell of soap and making you feel light-headed with desire.

A gentle hand landed on your head, and he once more stroked your hair gently, neither pushing nor pulling you as you explored at your own pace. You lifted your head then to connect your eyes - his chocolate orbs were darkened and clouded over by lust, and you held their scorching look as you slowly closed your lips around his tip and rolled your tongue around it.

Aesop’s head fell back and a surprisingly loud groan left his lips: “Bloody hell, (F/N)...”

Encouraged by this, you began to suck on the tip while stroking the rest of his prick with your hand, soon finding a neat rhythm. You could feel his heartbeat in the shaft, and you heard his breathing pick up considerably. Very slowly, you started to take in more of him, bobbing your head and breathing deeply through your nose. You were aware your technique probably wasn’t very elegant - your lips were damp from your saliva and you felt like you weren’t ever going to be able to really take in more than a few inches of him, your throat protesting mildly each time you took in more. Aesop, however, seemed far, far from complaining, soft grunts escaping his open lips, and his hand tightening in your hair without pushing you still.

You were becoming slightly more confident in your ministrations. However, this would come to bite you - or rather it would come to bite your lover… “Ouch! Teeth!” Aesop yelped suddenly, his body tensing giving a violent jerk. You released him immediately and sat up, already feeling panic and guilt rising up within you.

“Blast it, I’m so sorry, Aesop!” came your panicked voice even as you hurriedly wiped at your wet mouth. Your hand came to gently grab at the organ again, trying to see what damage you caused. “Where does it hurt? Will you be alright?”

Aesop took several laboured breaths, his own hand flying down to grip at his shaft. Then however-

A chuckle broke the silence, closely followed by another, and another, and soon he was giggling quietly.

“Over a decade spent as an Auror,” he said between giggles, “many many injuries, one life threatening, and this is the first time I’ve had to worry about my knob, bloody hell!” You couldn’t help it - your own laughter joined in, and you lowered yourself next to him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for,” Aesop answered once his laughter died down. His member was still hard and standing proudly and his hand curled around yours, guiding it up and down slowly. “Before the unfortunate accident, you weren’t doing half bad... I’ll be honest, you were doing really bloody good. Merlin, I- the amount of times just the mental image of you taking me in your mouth was enough to make me…”

You blushed under his words, your thighs quivering shortly as another wave of arousal flowed through you. “Shall I try again?” you asked, watching your hands working his cock leisurely. Aesop hummed: “Do you want to?”

You looked into his eyes. You did want to. You wanted to make him feel good, like he made you feel with his mouth as well… You nodded your head.

“Alright. Cover your teeth with your lips - like this. Takes a while to get right. The occasional scrape can feel fantastic, but a bitten off cock makes for a very unsatisfactory evening.”

“Oi,” you said with a light push to his chest with your free hand, “I didn’t go that hard!” “I saw my life flash before my eyes.” “You’re exaggerating!”

“A little bit. And again, the point is not to choke yourself or take what you can’t. A partner’s death of asphyxiation or dinner suddenly resurfacing on one’s privates are also not ideal outcomes.”

You chuckled incredulously. You had to admit, you adored it when he was being like this; cheeky. Humorous. You leaned in closer and gently dragged your mouth over his in a kiss, your joined hands still teasing him. “Hm… Just take it easy,” Aesop sighed, obviously enjoying himself again, the touching enough to make his eyes flutter and heart beat hard, but not enough to chase him towards his peak, “this isn’t a race, or some, I don’t know, trial. It’s just… making love. Experimenting. Exploring. Seeing what feels good for the other and enjoying ourselves. No rush, no pressure…”

You smiled at him again, using your free hand to caress his cheek before leaning down for another kiss. And then you slid down his body once more - his hand released your own on his shaft, and instead moved to gently stroke at the skin of your shoulder. Covering your teeth with your lips like he showed you, you let his glans slip into your mouth again and immediately started to suck. Slowly you returned to the rhythm you established before the little accident.

You alternated between bobbing your head up and down on the shaft, taking it as far as your gag reflex allowed, and focusing your attention on the leaking tip, your tongue sliding around it, teasing at his slit, even slipping below the foreskin bunched underneath, all the while your hand played with what you weren’t able to fit in your mouth. Experimentally, you let your other hand travel under the member to touch the heavy testicles. When you, very gently, squeezed one of them, a choked curse left Aesop’s mouth and his hand tightened on your shoulder. And to your own surprise - you moaned.

You were so busy minding your teeth, your breathing, so lost in your ardent exploration, you barely had time to notice yourself squeezing your thighs together like your life depended on it, trying to bring some semblance of a friction to your fluttering core. Without thinking, you released his length from your hand while continuing to fellate him inexpertly, in order to slip it between your legs.

Another soft moan was muffled by the hot erection as two fingers of your hand dipped between your drenched folds, soon finding their mark on your swollen lovebud and circling it like you recalled him doing the previous night. It was deliciously decadent, you decided. You felt the slightly bitter taste rolling down your throat as more precum leaked out of his cock, you were beautifully overwhelmed and completely surrounded by his smell, his taste, the only thing you heard were the sounds of his pleasure, and you worked him with your mouth and hand in the same rhythm that you were using to play with your quivering quim.

The sight of you, it would seem, was too much for Aesop. With a loud groan, he gently pried your head away, breathing fast, and you saw the large bollocks drawing up somewhat, and his cock throbbing heavily now. You unconsciously brought up your hand to wipe at your wet chin again and looked up at him with heavy eyes. “Fucking hell, (F/N),” the teacher mumbled, looking at you almost… admiringly, “you drive me mad, love.”

You were certain he could taste himself on your tongue and lips when he pulled you flush atop himself with his strong arms, snogging you in wild abandon, and the knowledge further clouded your already clouded-over mind. You wanted him, and you wanted him now, the nagging sensation in your core had long since transformed into a searing inferno, almost aching, you were desperate to connect your bodies again, to once more climb that mountain of pleasure together and take a leap into the pit of bliss below.

So, filled with anticipation and high on lust, you moved to straddle his hips, separated your mouths in order to grab on the large erection and guide it within yourself.

“Sweetheart, wait-”

Aesop’s mind cleared enough to see what your intention was and he tried to stop you. In vain.

Before he was able to firmly grasp your hips to keep you from sinking onto his length, you have already impaled yourself on it entirely. And you now knew just why he tried to stop you.

Burning pain in your most sensitive place forced a choked yelp out of your mouth and your entire body tensed. Fuck! You very nearly doubled over, your fingernails digging into Aesop's stomach.

“B-bloody hell, (F/N)!” Aesop grit out, torn between the blissful feeling of being completely enveloped by your tight (way way too tight) walls and being deeply concerned for your wellbeing, “you hurt yourself, didn't you?! Get off, come on!”

He was trying to push you off of him, though his hands lacked the strength they usually had. You did not want to get off. You were in pain, yes, you felt like you were going to split open around him, but you really did not want to call it quits. What if he didn't want to make love with you afterwards in worry of hurting you further? No, no, you didn't want to just toss the towel in like this.

“N-no…” you managed to get out, your breaths shuddery. “Don't be silly, sweetheart, get off, there's no point in hurting yourself!” Aesop attempted to reason, but you simply wouldn't budge, breathing through the ache and trying to relax around the fleshy intruder. After a few seconds spent in such silence you could've heard a pin drop, Aesop sighed.

The professor sniffed loudly through his nose, and quite awkwardly began shifting, slowly so as not to cause you too much further pain. It took several grunts from him and a few quiet mewls from you, but in the end, he managed to bend his legs at the knees and sit up on them. You cringed: this position probably wasn't doing any good to his leg. He, however, seemed more bothered about you still having your face screwed up in discomfort rather than his own pain.

A pair of comforting arms came to slowly wrap around your waist, his hands stroking the soft skin, and you let him enfold you in an embrace. The hair on the side of your head fanned slightly following his exhale: “My silly girl,” he said gently, rather than reprimanding, “did you think that just because we made love once, you no longer needed preparing, stretching?” You didn't say anything, only hid your face at the crook of his neck and swallowed audibly.

“Merlin's beard, lass…” he sighed, “you're young, fit… so bloody tight… it's going to take time before you're ready to take me in without preparation and feel no discomfort. And even then I'll always make sure that you're ready, every single time, because the last thing I want is to accidentally hurt you… Besides, I greatly enjoy pushing you over the edge with my hands and mouth…”

It was your turn to sniff, though you didn't raise your head from where it was resting: “I… couldn't wait…” Your lover clicked his tongue, his warm hands drawing nonsensical patterns over your back. “You, always so patient and meticulous in everything you do, and you throw it aside to make love with me? My sweet, if you weren't still all tensed up with pain, I would've been nearly flattered… Does it still hurt?”

Instead of answering, you nodded your head, your arms thrown around his shoulders loosely.

Suddenly, his warm lips connected with the skin of your neck, directly under your ear. Aesop began placing soft kisses and feather-light bites there, all the while still stroking your body with his hands. His coarse fingers slid from your back to your front instead, teasing at the curve of your breasts and sending ripples of excitement through you. “Try to focus on the way I'm touching you and relax… I'll make it better…”

You tried your hardest, but it was frankly difficult to focus on anything else than the discomfort. You were so stupid - of course what Aesop said made sense, why on Earth would you think that just because this was not your first time anymore, you were ready to just go at it immediately? Well, the books said the first time can be painful, but they did not mention the second time, so that at least played in the favour of your wit. Still, you should have been smarter.

“Shhh…” Aesop breathed into your ear, his hot breath on your sensitive earlobe causing you to shiver slightly, “stop thinking. Focus on my hands, on my mouth… “ You gave a nod and indeed tried your best to fully cling to the feeling of his large hands stroking your breasts, weighing them, giving them a little squeeze, before thumbing at your nipples, pebbled and sensitive. The amazing mouth attached to your neck, uneven teeth scraping and pinching at the skin, leaving hotness in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful,” you felt before you heard Aesop’s words as they rumbled in his chest. “You’ve no idea how much I imagined this. Imagined you. Not only in this position, but so, so many others. You’ve been driving me completely insane with craving for your touch.” His words were quiet, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you did your best to strain your ears to hear them. Because they worked. You were no longer so focused on your ache, and you wanted to hear more, wanted him to keep talking to you in that completely delicious voice of his that made you weak in the knees. Despite the discomfort, hearing him say he imagined making love to you in many positions made your walls flutter and flex around him, as well as further dampen with lust.

“H-how did you imagine me?,” you whispered back. An unexpected moan left your lips as a clever hand made its way between your bodies and slid to your core, curious fingers teasing at your seam which was so snuggly wrapped around the large member before coming up to gently prod and rub at your clit.

Aesop hummed, his fingers now fully circling the lovebud: “As I said - in all kinds of positions. I imagined taking you in my classroom many times - bent over my desk, leaving scratches on the wood with your nails. You sitting upon your potions station with my head between your thighs. Your back pressed against the cold stony walls of the dungeons…” With each new little fantasy Aesop shared, you felt the pain and discomfort lessening, and your core fluttering with excitement instead. And it was obvious recalling the things he imagined doing to you had the same effect on him from the throbbing of his erection.

“I imagined you sitting on my face and riding it while sucking on my cock at the same time… And hiding beneath the table, kneeling between my legs while I teach… However, that truly is only a dirty fantasy.” he chuckled softly. You weren’t able to chuckle, the deep blush on your face, the sensations of his hands, and his filthy thoughts voiced aloud making you rather unable to properly focus on anything else. And yet, you opened your (way too dry) mouth to speak: “A-and…. And everything e-else?”

“Everything else and more, my sweetest, I fully intend to bring into reality,” And with that he bucked his hips, forcing a choked moan from somewhere at the back of your throat.

“Mhm! How was that?” the teacher asked, pleasure dripping from his voice like molten lava, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Slowly, you caught your breath, your brain fogged from the strong sensations coursing through your body. And soon you realised that pain and discomfort wasn’t among them. You felt impossibly full, like the night before, but otherwise the feeling of your walls stretched around his cock, big and hard, and the throbbing of your core and clit were making you crave more, more of that sweet feeling. Aesop’s hand gently stroked your heated cheek, thumb coming down to trace your opened lips: “Sweetheart?”

“It’s…” you took a breath, “it’s alright… No more pain.” Aesop smiled, and leaned in for a gentle kiss. “How do you want me? Shall I take it from here, or do you want to proceed with your original plan?” he inquired, the words hotly whispered against your mouth. You thought for a moment - Aesop obviously knew best what to do, how to make both of you feel good… But then again, you wanted to learn it too, how to make your steamy union as good for each other as you possibly could… Finally, you kissed him back before lightly pushing on his chest, motioning for him to lie down on his back again.

He lowered his upper body once more, looking up at you devotedly: “If at any point it becomes too much, if you get tired, or want to stop entirely, please tell me. You’ve nothing to prove, to me or anyone. This is about us, and will only be nice if both of us are comfortable…”

You gazed down at him, your heart fluttering with love - he was obviously aroused beyond reason, throbbing where he filled you, and yet all he focused on was your comfort and your pleasure. You loved him. Body and soul, in your eyes he was the most perfect man in this large, chaotic world. The love filled your chest, your heart, it was rolling through you like a tsunami, and it was this feeling that made your hands brace on his stomach, firm muscles underneath a soft layer of skin and flesh, and raise your hips only to bring them back down, impaling yourself on him once more. Unlike before, no more pain came, and instead two groans of pleasure mingled in the air as they cut through the silence of the room.

You repeated the motion a few times, each one becoming more and more familiar and pleasant. Aesop’s hands were now stroking your hips, fingers only slightly digging into your skin in time with your thrusts: “Oh, my sweet…” he sighed, his handsome face flushed and a drop of sweat glistening upon his brow, “find your rhythm, try different angles to make yourself feel good.”

Nodding slightly in agreement, you began rolling your hips in different angles, searching for that one spot Aesop found deep within you yesterday, the one that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your head. You could feel its presence within you, the friction making you aware of it lightly pulsing, desperately trying to guide you. In the meantime, you managed to find a pleasurable rhythm, one that made your breath draw quicker, your own fingertips digging into Aesop’s belly and the hair there. Angling your hips again, you suddenly felt like a lightning bolt struck right through you, like you were doused with a bucket of cold water, immediately followed by a bucket of hot one, and you gave a full-body shudder.

“There you are…” Aesop said, voice almost proud, “such a clever lass…”

You gave a long exhale and repeated the motion, the pleasure upon each roll of your hips making a little gasp leave your mouth, soft sounds that you weren’t able to hold in as you rode your older lover. Aesop’s hands took to wandering, and he was looking up at you in a deeply appreciative manner, obviously enjoying seeing you bouncing atop his cock like you did. The hands gently took hold of your breasts, enjoying the way they moved along with you. Calloused thumbs and fingers began rubbing and squeezing at the pink pearls, adding yet another sensation to the already bubbling and boiling mix of desire. It felt like every single place the teacher touched was connected by an invisible wire, and that all of these wires led down to your fluttering, drenched core. Aesop spread his legs somewhat, and you felt his thighs against your bottom as he braced his feet upon the mattress to be able to join you in your efforts.

“Like this, yeah?” he asked in a deep, throaty voice as he plunged his own hips against yours. You didn’t feel able to reply verbally, so instead you only tightened your fingers on his stomach and adjusted to the new speed he was gently introducing. In this new angle, while his tip was still brushing against that bundle of nerves within you, your clit was also rubbing against his pubic hair, increasing the sensation again.

“Oh by Merlin, darling… You’re so perfect like this,” he groaned, arching his neck somewhat upon a particularly deep thrust, “taking your pleasure, flushed in all the right places, so bloody tight.”

Aesop proceeded to curl one hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down and closer to him, all the while your hips continued moving together, bringing pleasure to both of you. He chased your lips for another kiss, this one not nearly as gentle as the previous ones. No, this one was heated, hungry, almost possessive. At that moment you knew that while he was sometimes still hesitant to make his claim on you, he was very much desperate to, desperate to make you his own, forever. You accepted his tongue into your mouth, and engaged it in a short battle for dominance before yielding to it, letting the teacher taste you, plunging his tongue between your lips in the same rhythm in which his hard shaft was disappearing in your quivering depths.

His mouth latched onto your neck then, biting and sucking, digits instead gripping onto your back and shoulders, not letting you move away from him. Not that you wanted to. You sped up your movements further, starting to feel that coil within your core beginning to form and grow tighter. Unlike yesterday, there were no vines of pure light and magic swirling around your bodies, but it didn’t make the experience any less intense or pleasurable. The opposite was true, actually. While you were getting quickly overwhelmed, your body preparing for an earth-shattering orgasm, you weren’t as absolutely blinded by the raging inferno of sensations like you were yesterday, and could therefore appreciate some things more…

Like the way Aesop’s breathing began to hitch, and the way his voice got ever so slightly higher when a soft moan escaped his kiss-bruised lips. The way his eyes (so, so bloody dark) began to flutter, dark eyelashes fanning against his flushed cheeks. The way his member throbbed and pulsed inside you, and the way his hips twitched, as if he was stopping himself from taking over for you. You were grateful to him, for allowing you to take control, for his restraint, for his love, for him.

“I love you,” you whimpered, your pleasure mounting higher with every passing second, your eyes boring into his, even as they grew slightly unfocused.

He could only moan in response, arms coming to wrap even tighter around your back, your bodies now pressed together, your skin, damp with perspiration, sliding against that of the other with ease.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the professor pleaded breathlessly, his face visibly contorting with pleasure as he got closer and closer, “come on, please, come for me. Come for me, my love…”

And just like that your back arched, his pleasure-laced words tipping you over the edge and plunging you into a sea of gratification. You wanted to dip your face into the crook of his neck and muffle the moans that were leaving your mouth, but Aesop wouldn’t have that - his hands closed around the sides of your head, pulling you up so that he could watch your face, your eyes, so that he could hear you. “That’s right, my sweet... Mhm! F-fuck I'm coming,” he groaned, his own hips still rocking against yours relentlessly.

And then, suddenly, he used his considerable strength to flip the two of you over. He let go of your face in order to grab your hips again, roughly so, and started penetrating you at a hard, quick pace, all the while keeping your eyes connected while he chased his own climax, your own still crashing through you. It took less than a dozen hard thrusts before his large body shuddered atop you, and you felt his hot seed spill deep within you and mix with your own release. Your still contracting walls seemed to be intent on getting every last drop of him, milking him almost, and your thighs were shaking wildly on both sides of his hips.

Finally, the wild waves of pleasure began to subside, and sweet relief replaced them, little by little. Your head lolled to the side, and your lungs burned as you took in large gulps of air. Your body was tingling with residue bliss, feather-like shivers dancing over your most sensitive areas. Aesop’s body was pressing yours into the mattress, but you were far from caring. Wetness was leaking out of your opening as your lover’s shaft began to soften and shrink a bit, and your hearts started to slow down, beating synchronously against one another’s chest.

After a few minutes, Aesop raised his head from where it landed upon your chest, and connected your lips in a positively filthy kiss, all tongues and teeth. “I love you,” he whispered against your mouth, his hands once more coming to grab on your face, thumbs rubbing against the apples of your cheeks. You only opened your eyes when he pulled back, still a little unfocused from your climax. “You were incredible…” Aesop smiled softly. You thought he looked breathtakingly beautiful in his afterglow, hair all messy and slightly damp at the roots, his face and body still slightly flushed, on his face an expression of peace and serenity, like everything apart from the two of you was completely unimportant, if not nonexistent entirely.

“Abso. Lutely. Breath. Taking,” he whispered then, punctuating his words with a series of kisses placed upon your neck and your collarbone. You felt entirely boneless, unsure of your very ability to move. Then again, that might have been because you had a rather large and heavy former Auror resting atop you. Nevertheless, you managed to lift your arms just enough to tangle your hands into his hair, messing it up further.

A few more minutes passed before Aesop, very reluctantly, unsheathed himself from within your body. You grimaced slightly, once more feeling rather empty, gaping open almost. Unlike yesterday, however, instead of rolling to the side, Aesop scooted back to sit on his heels between your still spread legs. His eyes fell to your weeping opening, and he smirked ever so slightly, his now soft shaft giving the tiniest little twitch. And though you knew it was deep appreciation and attraction with what he was observing the proof of your pleasure, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit embarrassed at the level of exposure, and unconsciously made an attempt to close your legs. Aesop, of course, noticed immediately, and, instead of putting his hands on your knees to keep them open, gave you an apologetic smile: “I’m sorry, dear - let me get my wand, I’ll clean us up.”

“S-sorry,” you called out to him, watching as he rose from the bed in all his naked glory, his limp, while still very much there, seeming less pronounced than it usually was. You couldn’t help but drink him all in. He truly was like a marble statue of some Greek god… Well, maybe except for all the fur… and the size of, well… “Don’t you dare ever apologise for letting me know you’re uncomfortable with something, or that you don’t want something. I mean that, (F/N),” Aesop replied, his expression deadly serious. Normally, this expression would be a cue for you to start listening attentively and take notes in his class. However, now it didn’t quite have the same effect, seeing as he was as nude as the day he was born.

So instead you cracked a smile. The professor couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, before sending the scouring charm on your spent bodies. He proceeded to deposit his wand onto the nightstand and once more climb onto the bed. He settled, once more, between your legs, bracing himself on his forearms next to your sides so that he did not crush you under himself again. “I really do mean that, though. If, at any point, something doesn’t feel right, you don’t feel comfortable, or you’re not alright with me doing something, please… Please, tell me immediately. I cannot stress this enough. Promise?”

You gave him a grateful smile: “A-alright. I promise. Though it’s… a little silly. One moment I’m, um, I’m on top and we’re making love, and the next I feel… embarrassed to have you look at my…”

“It’s not silly. My sweet girl,” the teacher now rolled onto his side and turned you towards him: “You’re new to all of this. Some things are within your comfort zone, and some simply aren’t. Some things will stop making you uncomfortable as you find your footing, and some things you may never be alright with. And that’s okay. It’s important we talk about things, and are honest with one another, so that both of us can feel happy and safe together. Do you understand?”

You nodded in reply, curling against his strong body and putting your hand onto his warm side.

“Is there anything you feel uncomfortable doing?” you couldn’t help but inquire curiously. “Me?” Aesop asked, a mischievous grin in his voice, “oh, absolutely not, I’m a lecherous bastard, I am.” A laugh escaped both of your mouths. “No, no, really. I am certain there are many things I wouldn’t be alright with, but that’s for the two of us to explore together. If you want to, of course.”

“I’d love to…”

You spent several minutes just holding onto one another, quite comfortable in your nakedness, your bodies warming one another and fitting, in your opinion, perfectly. Your hand coursed through the hair on his chest fascinatedly, and Aesop seemed content to just rest his eyes for a bit.

“I admire your self control…” You said after a short while, your hand leaving his chest and seeking his own that was resting upon your hip instead. The potions master didn’t waste any time and linked your fingers, squeezing your hand gently: “Don’t,” he replied quietly, “when you were bent over that tub, I was about this close to just jumping to you, grabbing your hips, and having my way with you right then…”

You shivered where you lay - the mental picture was definitely something you’d like to come back to later: “I wouldn’t have minded…”

A little guffaw broke through Aesop’s chest at your, most likely naive, words: “Now we know the situation wouldn’t have been a pleasant one for you... All in a good time,” he soothed, squeezing your hand once more and opening his eyes to look at you. “It might be a bit difficult finding time to be together when we get back to the castle, especially with NEWTs coming up, but… But I’ll do my best to be able to be with you. And not only to make love to you.”

“But we can do that, right?” you nevertheless asked, prompting another short laugh from your lover. “Try and stop me,” he said, grinning, “It’s just a few more months, and then… then we’ll have all the time in the world. No more hiding and sneaking around. Not a thousand Ashwinders or an army of Garreth Weasley’s clones intent on pinching all of the contents of my stores will be able to keep me from coming to you the moment I am able to.”

“I love you,” you breathed again, pulling him for another prolonged kiss. You were, once again, getting lost in him, in his scent, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his strong body against your smaller one. Aesop pulled back after some time, looking slightly perplexed: “I have a confession to make - what I said before - that wasn't entirely true."

You fixed him with a curious look: "Hm? What do you mean?” Aesop looked rather sheepish all of a sudden, his hand finding yours again, and fiddling with your own fingers. He looked down at it and took a deep breath: "That this was the first time I've ever had to worry about my... you know. After Scarborough, I was in so much pain I... Well, I was fairly certain I had been rendered impotent..."

You didn’t react immediately - you know how difficult it was for him to discuss Scarborough and its aftermath, so you didn’t want to deter him from confiding in you because of too much curiosity or too many uncomfortable questions, so you simply settled with: "Really?"

The professor nodded, still not meeting your eyes: "Yes... It was about... a year and a few months before I truly... felt any sort of stir, anything…” he finally raised his eyes to look at you, the look in the pensive, wistful almost. “Back then though... Back then I thought it hardly mattered anyway, because there was no way any woman would desire me ever again..."

You clicked your tongue softly, and carefully put your hand on his right cheek, experimentally almost, to see if he was comfortable with you touching his scar. You were glad when he closed his eyes again and leaned into your gentle touch. "I'm sorry…” you spoke, so softly he barely heard you, “You know I desire you greatly, right? with every single fibre of my being, scars and a wounded leg and all... but please know I would've loved you even if your suspicions turned out to be true."

Aesop’s breath hitched ever so slightly, his arms tightened around you, and he seemed to momentarily hide his face in the crook of your neck. In a voice so quiet you nearly struggled to hear he said: "I wouldn't even dare take you for myself then. I could not bear having you and not be able to satisfy you. I know all kinds of love exist, but… the erotic part of a romantic relationship is just as important as the emotional one.”

You weren’t sure you could imagine it properly. You were very happy just holding him, kissing him, being in his presence. However, it was undeniable that at some point (and you weren’t even certain whether that was before or after the two of you took the leap of faith and began your clandestine affair) you began to crave, and you craved him a lot. It was a difficult topic to both discuss and ponder, and while you were quite interested to hear more on what he had to say on the matter, you sensed that it was comfort Aesop craved now, more than anything else. Not to mention your brain was still swimming in endorphins, and it wasn’t exactly easy to fire it up again. So, settling for a lighthearted tone, you said: "As we both know by now, you do an excellent job of satisfying even without ever pulling it out of your pants,” Aesop snorted at your choice of words, “However, as we also know now, you, Aesop Sharp, are far from impotent."

"Oh, that I am..."

Another shiver broke through your body at his tone, so very different than the one before, almost like a low sort of growl.

And then his lips were claiming yours once more.

And Aesop would prove his perfectly healthy potency to you again.

—

Truth be told, you were rather sore as the two of you made your way out of the cottage. You both made sure the space was left neat and tidy (well, as neat and tidy as it was when you first came), that the sheets were clean and fresh (and they indeed were in need of washing by the time you prepared to leave), that the dishes were washed and sorted in the correct cupboards, and, of course, than no article of clothing or any collected ingredients were left behind.

You did notice that Aesop wasn’t reaching into his pockets for a dose of Wiggenweld potions for his pain as often as he normally would, which was curious. The man himself, however, didn’t seem quite this aware of it. There was a look of contentness and calm within his dark eyes, and his features looked even more relaxed than normally when it was just the two of you. Truth be told, you were quite worried that absolutely everyone would be able to know just what you were doing this weekend by just looking at your face, on which you felt a near constant smile, perhaps even a light flush.

The flowers he gifted you were safely stored in your pack under a stasis spell, so that you could display them in the Room of Requirement later.

The short journey to the front of the cottage, where there was enough space to safely apparate to Hogsmeade felt like a hike through mountains, difficult and harrowing, and yet it passed way, way too quickly. Both of you stopped in place, listening to the sounds of the forest and the wind, just sort of lost in your own heads.

“So… This is it. Holiday over,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. Aesop hummed in reply. A few more seconds passed before you noticed him putting down the trunk of gathered ingredients and turning towards you. His hands took hold of you firmly, possessively even, and he quickly proceeded to snog the living daylights out of you.

“We’re being a little ridiculous,” he said after several minutes, breathless. You gave him a questioning look.

“We’re acting as if this was some sort of ending, even though we’re at the very beginning,” Aesop chuckled then, fingers stroking your hips through your clothes. “I intend to keep the promise I made,” the teacher continued, “I’ll do my bloody best to ensure we’re able to be together, be it for just a few minutes or days on end. We both know what would be preferable, but a dose of realism is, I think, needed in order not to be disappointed all the time.”

You had to agree with him there. The term end exams were one thing, but having to deal with NEWTs as well would surely prove to be a rather hectic experience. “I’ll do my best too,” you in turn promised. “You make sure you complete your studies - I want no less than five O’s from you, because I know you’re perfectly capable of getting them,” he insisted with a small smile, “and after that…”

“After that we’ll be able to be together fully. No more hiding around,” you completed and Aesop nodded his head.

He then fished out a pocket watch from his chest pocket, looking at its arms shortly: “Come. We have to disapparate soon if we want to enter the castle’s walls by the time the dinner in the Great Hall is in full swing.” And with that he picked up his trunk once more. “Why do we want to arrive in the middle of dinner?” you questioned, unconsciously patting yourself down to ensure you had all of your possessions. Aesop connected your eyes, and once more were you hit with the sheer intensity of them.

“So nobody sees me dragging you off to my chambers, of course.”

—

“Ah, there he is - told you he’d turn up eventually,” said Abraham Ronen with a smile as he stood in the doorway to the Great Hall with Dinah Hecat. “Must’ve come back very late indeed, seeing as I was told Miss (L/N)’s bed was very much empty last night, and the young woman herself was only occupying it when Miss Dale woke in the morning…” the DADA teacher replied with a sly smirk. “Now, Dinah, don’t tell me you’re sending your Eagles to spy on each other are you?” spoke Ronen again.

“Not spy, merely inform me - after all, Miss (L/N) was away from school for the weekend, and I wanted to ensure she returned safely.”

“And it would seem she indeed did, just quite a bit later than originally expected.” “Or, she returned right on time and simply spent her night elsewhere?”

“Do you reckon so?” “Just look at him, Abraham. That is the face of a man whose dry spell just ended. And yet he still hadn’t shared the good news with the two of us… Let’s see if we can get a reaction out of him, what do you say?”

---

Thank you so much for reading. You can also check this story and all of my other stories over on my AO3 ❤

I love feedback 😁

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #my art #fanfiction #drawing #reader insert #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #digital art #illustration #illustrative art #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp fluff #aesop sharp x you #professor aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #fluff

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bi-scottsummers · 4 months ago

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Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)

#sorry this took so ridiculously long for me to get to #i didnt have too many hcs before i sat down to think about it and i didnt wanna just talk about kenji #honestly. if im being honest. lemme be honest. i find it hard to write for and/or about emi #shes cute asf i loved her in the movie but since she is a literal baby child its difficult for me to get a grasp on her #i can only really think ahead to when she grows up and starts developing a bit more of a personality #anyway. hope this is suffices #ultraman rising #ami wakita #kenji sato #emi sato #mine #asks #anon #trending in japan #entry 2 in the TIJ tag lets goooooooo #just to be clear btw. ami & kenji is a platonic thing to me #not that i hate the idea of them together i just dont feel like they have that sort of chemistry #and anyway (i talked abt this in the notes on TIJ ch.3 but) i lowkey hc kenji as aroace so it doesnt gel w my personal interpretation of hi #but take it as romantic if u want i really dc. theyre silly together in any way

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 10 months ago

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Perversion

@turbulentscrawl triple dog dared me so heres tht thing i wasnt gonna write bvfbfvbihv im so sorry if this ooc lol

Photographer pls why u gotta call him "little gray mouse" pls im not normal now

Rated Explicit | Warnings: none

You never asked for more than what is willingly being given, you are content– Happy with what you have for easily you can have nothing at all. Being with Aesop means not always having the ‘standard’ relationship. Often you are doing most of the work, putting all that you have into this, supportive of this. You usually feel bad thinking you are pressuring the man to stay with you, maybe he thinks he has to out of pity.

Though he will reassure you he never felt pressed to stay, he is willing, and he loves you.

Intimacy, Ada says, is a key part of keeping a relationship stable. Sex is healthy and given the situation of this place and the high stresses, she says sex often can strengthen a bond. You… You like cuddling but sex? It never crossed your mind. It took a while for Aesop to get used to your physical affection, even laying on the same bed as you was awkward at first.

Maybe Dr. Ada is right. Maybe you bring it up… How do you bring this up!? She sympathizes with you before explaining to bring it up naturally.

That is why currently you stand beside the Embalmer as he restocks his embalming supplies.

“Would you have sex with me?” So you suck at naturally bringing up things.

Aesop dropped his bottle.

“Aesop!” You quickly pick up the bottle, luckily it was only one of the makeup bottles, “Are you okay?” Not too much spilled out.

“Are you?” Trying to gather his thoughts, “Why would you ask that?” He thinks something is wrong.

“Yeah, I mean… Dr. Ada said “To strengthen a relationship, sex helps”.”

He blinks a few times, you rely on his eyes to read his expressions as he always wears a mask, “Oh.” He had faced you but he turned back to his supplies, “No.”

“Oh, okay.” You go back to watching him work.

“It is not because of you,” Wording this as best as possible, “I don't like… That.”

“That?”

Aesop is quiet for a second then tries to explain, “It is… Dirty.”

“Dirty as a sin or the process.”

“Yes, no, the process.”

You make an ‘oh’ sound before a laugh, “Okay, nothing wrong with that! I know skin-on-skin contact is hard for you. Heh, I got scared it was because— Huh!?” His gloved hands hold your face, “Aesop.” His mask touches your lips as he kisses you, and you return the kiss.

His forehead is on yours as he speaks gently, “You are beautiful.” His eyes are on your face.

You hum softly, closing your eyes, “Sorry.” Your hands on his shoulders squeezing it as he kisses you again, “May I hold you like this.” Whispering the request. You might have unintentionally had negative thoughts, Dr. Ada warned you a rejection can bring up underlying feelings.

“Of course.”

You do not know what shifted after that day.

Aesop is a sweet lover, he has needs that are different from yours, but he often puts you first. When you need intimate affection like cuddles that require the bed, he gives you that time. But lately, he is trying the skin-on-skin contact in little ways. Kissing more often as his lips rather than the mask, he uses his bare hand to touch your face (one glove on though), and he is one asking for those cuddle times.

“No,” Blocking his kiss with your fan, “Aesop, you don't have to make up for anything.” The single glove on was a sign that something was off. Masklessly kissing you on the lip does happen just not always, he has sensory issues and you respect that. Plus, kissing his mask is cute especially when your rogue marks it.

“I– I am not,” You close the fan with one hand revealing your little frown, “I wanted to touch you… Properly.”

“You can at any time you want, love. But don't force it.”

He leans back nodding as he adjusts his mask back to his face, “May kiss you again?”

You smile before jumping on him a bit to kiss him a dozen times.

Naturally, you expected things to go back to normal, the subject was not brought about sex until much later.

When Joseph became involved.

There is a word for this Joesph said while speaking with you, ‘A ménage à trois’. The word sounds so sweet and smooth like silk from his mouth. Something he says with a hint of something you now realize is seduction.

Maybe the Photographer gave Embalmer this idea for there is no way he came up with this himself. Hell, you never knew they were friends—Ish, they seem to tolerate each other more than others.

As Aesop undresses you, you feel Joseph touch the newly revealed skin as soon the only thing you have on is your underwear.

“Cold?” His voice is low as his finger traces around your shifting nipple. You nod, unable to trust your voice, Aesop's hands hold your waist as Joseph’s lips take the nipple into his mouth, the Photographer's other hand teasing the other. You are grateful to lean against your lover, his mask pressed against your cheek as you quiver. “You will warm up in a moment.” You never realize how pretty the Frenchman looks, most of the time he terrifies you but right now he looks so pretty.

The foreplay is overwhelming, two pairs of hands, one with medical gloves on and the other bare but cold, makes you dizzy.

When you finally are on the bed, writhing as you grip Joseph’s unbound hair as feasts on you between your legs, Aesop removes his mask to kiss you. With every moan stolen by him, you were surprised he wanted to taste you. He tastes like mint, and you taste like that wine Joseph offered prior to this event. Calm the nerves barely.

Something in French is said and you whine as Joseph pulls away. Not for long as slips his cock into your well-prepared heat.

“Look at me.” You fight to keep your eyes open as Aesop holds you, “You are doing so well.” Caressing your cheek.

“They are tighter than I expected.” Joseph says after cursing under his breath, “Relax.” You try but you feel so full. Aesop looks at the way you squirm, his hand moving to your body but unsure where to touch first. “Here, rub lightly.” Joseph guiding Aesop's hand between your legs.

He can't directly feel the sticky substance of your essence but he can feel the warmth, the moan you let out has his cheeks burning brighter than it already is. It is very strange, the texture thick and the substance cloudy.

“Feeling brave enough to taste it, little gray mouse?”

Aesop shakes his head and rather sticks with kissing you.

“Aseop…” You moan out, “Ah.” This is so much yet not enough all at once. “Joseph!” Confused as he grazes something inside of you that has you seeing stars, “There! Please, please!” One hand on Joseph’s arm and the other holding Aesop's hand.

All night you had Joseph inside of you, touching you. All night, Aesop is there exploring you when he feels comfortable and always kissing you. The arrangement is, well, you would not mind doing it again.

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kolori · 6 months ago

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Ominis and mermaids sing to Sebastian while the last one is suffering in Azkaban x) + in "BeReal" meme from twitter

Small uncensored versions I post on Twitter and Telegram (you can just follow there, it will be also a huge support for me! 💚)

Printable uncensored vers. 🍓 is here🍓 (+ previous spicy comic is for the same subscription)

Also Cara Instagram VK Artstation Other

*guess where is Aesop Sharp 🌚

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp #mermay #mermaid #kolori drawings #bereal #hogwarts legacy fanart #sebinis #bereal meme #mermay 2024 #harry potter

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 6 months ago

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How might the students and professors react to a new professor taking up Fig's position after his death?

HLC REACT TO A PROFESSOR FIG'S REPLACEMENT

The new professor started in MC's sixth year, taking over the magical theory class. They were no one outstanding or terrible, not that MC noticed. They didn't have to take magical theory. They couldn't bring themselves to go anywhere near that classroom.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He paid no personal attention to the new professor. He was more concerned with how MC was acting. He understood that MC was close to Fig and saw how much the loss had affected them.

OMINIS GAUNT: Aside from getting used to yet another new voice at Hogwarts, he doesn't really care. He's barely close to people his own age, let alone the professors.

ANNE SALLOW: (if she was cured over the summer and came back) She'd be said not to see Fig. He'd been there a long time and she'd miss his presence. The new teacher is fine, she supposes, but not the same.

IMELDA REYES: Magic theory is boring no matter who teaches it.

NATSAI ONAI: She's locked in on MC. No matter what the teachers are doing, MC's mental state is her priority. She got to see first hand the relationship they and Fig had and she knows their suffering. She's been through similar.

GARRETH WEASLEY: Aside from MC, He probably knew Fig the most out of many of the students at Hogwarts. He was a good man and a passionate teacher. He'll miss Fig a lot.

LEANDER PREWETT: He thinks they're fine. Everyone agrees Fig was better, but what can you do? He doesn't know how to feel. He wasn't close to Fig but Fig had been there the whole five years he had.

AMIT THAKKAR: A new teacher is a new teacher. Just shrug and move on. He's more concerned with MC anyway.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He knew Fig went through a lot before the goblin attack, so he keeps this to himself, but he's grateful for a more consistent teacher this year. Substitutes had to keep Fig's class covered last year.

POPPY SWEETING: Admittedly, she never really paid attention in magic theory. The change has only affected her as much as watching MC deal with the loss of their mentor.

~~~

MATILDA WEASLEY: This was a job she insisted on taking upon herself. She felt a degree of responsibility for his death. If she had just insisted on knowing what was going on more...maybe. She chose someone young with good marks. Brand new professor, someone's new start.

She's also been in constant contact with MC over the summer. She will be their supportive Aunt through their grief.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She helps the new professor get the lay of the grounds. She knows the place inside and out almost as well as the caretaker. She's also quick to inform them that students flying out of bounds should be reported at once.

AESOP SHARP: He's wary of new people. He won't be impolite, but he won't go out of his way to be friendly either. Fig was a good friend of his, so this new person feels like an imposter. It'll take even longer for him to warm up to them.

ABRAHAM RONEN: Dire circumstances aside, he's very welcoming. He's the first to offer a proper tour of the castle, even if professor Weasley already gave one. He'll do everything in his power to make the newcomer feel welcome to Hogwarts.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She understands what it's like to be the young pup amongst well seasoned professors. She can give first hand advice on how to handle their first lessons and connect with their students.

MUDIWA ONAI: She is polite to her new coworker, but she busies herself with MC. Natty tells her everyday how terrible MC is doing still and it worries her. If they will let her, she is willing to fill the void of parental figure in MC's life.

BAI HOWIN: Her biggest metric for measuring someone's character is how they treat beasts, even non-magical animals like the castle cats. She'll observe how they interact, then she'll make a judgement call.

DINAH HECAT: Losing Fig was a sobering reminder of her own mortality. With her body aged as it is, she will be retiring soon and she's looking at her own future.

CUTHBERT BINNS: Nothing beyond the bounds of his classroom concerns him.

SATYAVATI SHAH: The loss of any life is a tragedy, but life moves ever onward. She helps the new professor get their bearings. Give them advice on handling their new job.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: He didn't argue when his deputy headmistress wanted to find Fig's replacement. It was one less thing he had on his plate. It was a real shame to lose Fig. He was useful.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting

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aesops-boy · 23 days ago

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There is some part of you that is choosing to be alive right now. It’s choosing to make sure you exist right now.

It doesn’t hate you. It’s not denying your experience. It remembers each modicum of anything that was better than what you’re going through that you have experienced, even if you don’t. It remembers whatever tiny shreds might have passed through you.

You’re still here because some part of you, annoying and wrong as you might think it is, believes in you. It believes you will survive. It believes you will live as long as you can.

That part of you loves you, no matter what state you’re in.

#affirmation #mental health recovery #mental health support #hope #self love #aesops boy #little red aesops boy

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eunxhan · 6 months ago

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❝In a world full of misery and uncertainty, it is a great comfort to know that, in the end, there is light in the darkness.❞

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Anon Requested ⨾ Hi!! Can I please have some yandere stuff for Aesop Carl and Luca Balsa from Idenity V? Tysm <3 (gn reader?)

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ I'm not sure what have gone through my mind in this one, it's kind of ooc..

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Disclaimer — ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR.

Reader & Genre ⨾ GN!Reader, You/Yours ( In Aesop, Reader is manipulative)

Words used ⨾ 1,799 words 10,171 characters

Character ⨾ YAN!ASEOP CARL, YAN!LUCA BALSA

ART CREDIT ⨾ @tkt_spl on twt

Links ⨾ My Navigation and Mandates

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ AESOP CARL —

Aesop Carl, as a member of a close-knit group of survivors, plays an important role in protecting the others in the group. However, his desire to keep his beloved safe may lead him to isolate you from other group members, either physically or emotionally. This is indicative of a type of yandere known as the "protective yandere". A protective yandere is a character who is extremely obsessive and possessive of their love interest, and will go to great lengths to ensure the safety and well-being of their beloved. They exhibit controlling and manipulative behaviors, such as isolating their love interest from others or monitoring their activities, but they do so out of a genuine desire to protect the one they love.

In Aesop's case, his desire to protect you is a driving motivation for many of his actions. He become jealous and/or paranoid when other group members interact with you, often feeling a sense of ownership or entitlement over your love interest. leading him to keep you close by, physically or emotionally, as a way to protect you from perceived threats. his intentions may be pure but his actions can result feeling suffocated or isolated.

He is on the lookout for any potential threats to you and will take extreme measures to keep you safe and close to him. His behavior can range from innocent over-affection to outright controlling and manipulative tactics, all in an effort to protect you. Making you feel suffocated and isolated from the rest , causing you discomfort, stress and tension in your relationship with Aesop.

He views you as an extension of himself, rather than a separate person with their own desires and feelings, and becoming overly controlling and possessive. He may try to limit your interactions with others, or even physically isolate you, in order to "protect" you from potential harm. From what you're both going through, Isn't it right for him to protect you? To isolate you? To threaten everyone around you to be away from you?

despite his controlling nature, Aesop is also be capable of showing deep love and affection towards you. He's extremely attentive and supportive of your needs, and may go to great lengths to make you happy and safe. But wanting you to talk with others? Be out? Enjoying your freedom? Oh I'm sorry..

If you begin to avoid Aesop and/or lash out on him because of his behavior, Aesop feels hurt or angry by your rejection of his affectionate behaviors, causing him to become even more possessive and controlling in an effort to "keep" you in his orbit. Making you feeling even more smothered and trapped, potentially leading to a spiral of conflicts and escalating controlling behaviors from him.

If you continue to act selfless during in your trials, it indicates that you're willing to put the group's needs above your own. This selfless behavior can be seen as a positive trait by many, but for Aesop? Oh no, he'll not let you do anything.

If others or even the killers would hurt you, Aesop becomes extremely protective and angry. He'll lash out physically or verbally at anyone he sees as a threat to your safety. Becoming overly obsessive and possessive, trying to keep you close to him at all times. He may also blame himself for not being able to protect you and feel a sense of guilt and shame for not being able to save you. Leading to isolate himself for awhile and withdraw into his own thoughts and emotions, becoming more withdrawn and guarded.

Becoming determined to find and punish the person responsible for hurting you so, even if it means putting himself and others at risk. aesop would be driven by a deep sense of protectiveness and love for you, willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness and well-being.

If you become angry with Aesop for isolating and protecting you, Aesop may feel a deep sense of guilt and shame. He may question whether he has been doing the right thing, and may begin to doubt his actions. He may become withdrawn and distant, trying to figure out how he can make things right.

Again, if you avoids him , Aesop may experience a sense of abandonment, feeling as though you no longer want to be around him. He may become anxious and desperate to rectify the situation, going to great lengths to win back your affection. In private, he may become extremely emotional and plead with you to listen to him, trying to explain his actions and apologize for any harm he has caused. He'll act as if he doesn't care whenever there's around, but once you guys are alone, he'll be on his knees hugging your waist not letting you go anywhere.

Aesop Carl can also be surprisingly gentle and compassionate towards you. He often shows his love through small acts of kindness and affection, and is quick to apologize when he feels he has wronged you but this doesn't often. You have to beg for him to even look at you just to talk to him.

Ꮺ ⨾ ONESHOT —

Right when everyone's asleep, you hear strange noises coming from outside your room. You rise from your bed and approach the door, but as you listen closer, you don't hear any footsteps or voices. Instead, there's only a soft, rumbling noise, like someone's mumbling under their breath. You slowly open the door, and as you peek out into the hallway, you see Aesop standing Infront of you but before you could say anything. He launched at you, wrapping his arms around you.

His whole body is shaking, and his eyes look wild and scared. He's mumbling something to himself, but you can't make out what he's saying. You move closer to him, asking if everything is okay. He buries his face into your shoulder and whispers to you, "everything's dangerous, everything's dangerous, come to me for protection."

You try to calm him down, but he's shaking so hard, you can feel his whole body trembling against you. You hold him close, trying to soothe him, but he just keeps whispering about the dangers outside. He's hyperventilating, and his grip on you is tight, almost painful

"I can't let them take you away from me."

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ LUCA BALSA —

Luca is a complicated and conflicted yandere. He has a deep attraction to you and can't help but feel drawn to you, but he also feels immense guilt and shame for his feelings. He may try to push you away or ignore yoi as a way to suppress his emotions, but his fascination and obsession with you will win out. He could be seen as someone who is torn between his attraction and his emotions, and this internal conflict could cause him to lash out and become impulsive. His feelings towards you will likely be intense and possessiveness, but he also might be terrified of what he's capable of because of those feelings. He's very conflicted and confused about his emotions and how to handle them.

He struggles with his own emotions, feeling ashamed for his attraction to them and often trying to repress or eliminate these feelings. This is indicative of a type of yandere known as the "conflicting yandere".

His desire to protect you may stem from a desire to keep you safe from harm, he's completely aware of what he's doing to you but feel guilty or ashamed for those feelings, often trying to hide or deny them.

He may project his own confusion and conflict inward, directing it towards you as a way to cope. He insults you at every opportunity, calling you names and making you feel insecure as a way to keep you close. He also have a warped sense of affection, thinking that insults are an acceptable way to show love. He's motivated by a desire to keep you close and under his control.

His behavior can be extremely confusing and concerning. His insults towards you is emotionally damaging. His love and affection may be a way to manipulate or control you. One moment he's spouting out insults at you just to keep his pride but later he's all over you, apologizing and showering you with affection no matter how uncomfortable you are.

He feel a sense of entitlement towards you and believe that it's his right to treat you however he wants. as controlling behavior, such as deciding what you can or cannot do. Luca may feel entitled to your time, attention, and affection.

If you happen to be not afraid of speaking your mind and express your opinions. He thinks of it as a threat to his own sense of control and dominance in the relationship. He see it as a personal attack on his self-esteem and pride, which he value highly and feel the need to defend. he's angry and resentful towards you, and lash out in an attempt to regain a sense of control and power on you.

Luca will try to purposely hurt you in any way possible and then takes care of your injuries afterwards. Tripping you Infront of the killer and then helping you out once you call for his help.

If you even try to leave or escape from his grasp, you'll wake up screaming in pain. Looking down just to see your legs are gone. He is extremely observant and pays attention to even the smallest details about you. which can be both endearing and unsettling.

Typical yandere things.. Always intensely possessive and jealous, often feeling threatened by anyone who shows interest in you.

He struggles with his emotions and often has difficulty communicating them effectively, leading to explosive outbursts of anger or emotion. He can be very manipulative and will use whatever means necessary to get what he wants, even to the detriment of you.

Ꮺ ⨾ ONESHOT —

As Luca stood at the top of the stairs, he couldn't believe what he had just done. He had pushed you off the stairs, and now you were lying on the ground, injured. The guilt and regret that he felt were overwhelming... And also anger filling up inside of him.

He quickly descended the stairs and knelt down beside you, his hands shaking as he examined you injuries. He had caused this, and he had to make it right.

"This is why you need to be with me, you can't even help yourself up."

You lay in his arms, silent as he carried you. You were in shock, and the pain was almost unbearable. he lays you down on the couch, he quickly retrieved a first aid kit and began to treat your injuries. He was surprised by how proficiently he could work while his hands were shaking.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

#Eun.writes #Eun.asks #Eun.YAN #aesop carl #aesop carl x reader #yandere x male reader #aesop carl yandere #male reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #identity v #luca balsa #luca Balsa x reader

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raatart · 7 months ago

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a complete boycott list in alphabetical order

a complete list of companies / brands / franchises to boycott in support of palestine that i have been working on putting together for a while now.

remember to support your local businesses

stand with palestine against genocide

(Food & Beverages)

Activia

Acqua Panna

Akmina

Absolute Vodka

Algida

A&W

Aquafina

Alpro

Actimel

Burger King

Baskin Robbins

Ben & Jerry's

Bugles

Betty Crocker

Badoit

Becel

Coca Cola

Costa Coffee

Cadbury

Cheerios

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#boycott #boycott israel #boycott mcdonalds #boycott starbucks #boycott disney #boycotting #pro palestine #fuck israel #support palestine

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animasola86 · 7 months ago

Text

A Demonstration of Pride and Pain

Notes: This is a continuation of A Demonstration of Power and Support.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader (with face scar)

Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 5.1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: In the aftermath of a rough night, you find yourself easing his pain, while you embrace your own.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Size difference. Age gap. Established student/teacher relationship. Pain management. Stimulation as pain relief. Pain as stimulation.

A Demonstration of Pride and Pain

He was aching all over. Every single muscle was sore, arms and legs stiff as boards, every joint so tight he could barely move. So he didn't. Breathing deeply through the pain, he focused on the warm body pressed to his chest. You were sleeping so peacefully in his embrace, head resting on his arm, hands clutching around the other that was draped over your small form, the soft noises leaving your parted lips washing over him like the gentle laps of waves hitting the shore.

Inhaling deeply, he tried to fall back asleep, but the dull throbbing and numb tingling in his limbs wouldn't let him. He groaned, the sound rumbling through your body, and when you stirred, he sighed, hating himself for waking you up. You let out a little mewl as you stretched in his tight hold, back pressing against his chest, rear firmly placed against his groin.

Subconscious or not, you even started grinding your backside against him, and he would have groaned again, feeling other parts of his body stiffen, but then you stopped again and managed to roll around despite his arms caging you in. When you faced him, your gaze was tired, eyes hooded and still glazed with sleep, but then you smiled at him, and despite the ache of his body, he smiled back weakly.

Your hands found his tense jaw and gently scraped over the stubble of his beard, the sound making you shiver. Biting your lip, you leaned closer until you could press a soft kiss to his lips, your eyes on him, watching him closely, always attentive despite your sleepy state. He tried to relax into the touch, closing his eyes, but he couldn't help furrowing his brows.

Suddenly you slipped from between his stiff arms, your warmth leaving him, and he let out a disappointed grunt. He heard your bare feet tapping along the room, then the clinking sounds of glass against glass, and when you returned to the bed, he cracked open an eye. You were kneeling beside him, a small vial in your hands. He recognized the green liquid, and his heart swelled slightly when you leaned towards him.

His little nurse.

He had never wanted you to be like this, tending him, taking pity on the old cripple, helping him with his ailments, but you just did, unsolicited, unprejudiced, because you cared. With the support of your hand behind his head, he managed to sit up slightly, enough for him to be able to drink the potion. Once the bitter concoction ran down his throat, he felt his body tingling even more for a moment, and another groan escaped him.

You placed the empty vial back on the floor and made him lie down again, on his back, and he just watched you as you nestled close to him, snuggling against his side, looking up at him with a soft, yet slightly worried expression on your young face. His dark eyes were on you, filled with gratitude – and shame. He hated needing your help. He didn't hate you nor did he hate the need for you or how willing you were to help him, but he hated being so incapacitated, so dependent, so useless.

Especially when it was his own fault for pushing himself so far. As exciting and satisfying as last night had been, he would rather care for you now, knowing you must be in quite the discomfort yourself after what he had done to you. But you didn't complain, didn't show a single sign that you were hurting. You always masked your own pain when you were caring for him, always focused on his wellbeing instead of your own.

Inhaling deeply, he was about to roll onto his side, wanting to face you, but you stopped him, shaking your head, telling him to relax, wait for the potion to reach every last inch of his hurting body. He hated lying about, unable to do anything, though you were also prone to being impatient sometimes. He watched you closely as you carefully climbed on top of him, trying to distribute your weight equally, before you lay down on him, your warm body pressing against his sore limbs.

He could barely remember how you had managed to strip him of his clothes after you had both returned from his hobby room, but he was glad you did, and apparently none of you had bothered to put on sleeping attire either, so the skin on skin contact you now shared with him did wonders to the tension clawing at his joints.

Your hands cradled his hard face, fingertips rubbing over his cheeks, while you looked him deeply in the eye, a mischievous glint in your own. You gave him a gentle peck, then rested your head on his shoulder, slowly relaxing on top of him, while your warmth seeped into his tight muscles, easing them slowly.

It was when you started grinding against him, your hips firmly pressed to his, that the blood flow concentrated elsewhere. He felt himself harden as you rubbed your pelvis against him, and a small grunt escaped him. Yet he was either too tired or numb or simply too lazy and relaxed to stop you, and frankly, he wanted to feel good again, as selfish as it was. So he let you.

Licking your lips, you felt his hardening cock pressing against your lower stomach, and you shifted slightly so you could feel him closer to your throbbing core.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him so vulnerable, so pained, his tall body so stiff and tight, his muscles tense and aching, and yet it always gave you a little fright, especially when you thought back to the things he was able to do to you with that same body, what strength and power he could demonstrate, so the aftermath always felt a little unreal.

And you hated yourself for not stopping him, not that you could have, at least not last night, but you should have tried, even though he probably was the most stubborn man you had ever met, never admitting defeat, never acknowledging pain, and it had taken you a while to discern the subtle twitches to recognize how he was really feeling even though he told you he was fine.

You didn't blame him for trying to be proud. He was a tall, intimidating man, strong and powerful and respected, he had been an Auror for crying out loud, and nobody would want to step down from that to being reduced to a vulnerable shell of a man who was riddled with pain and self-doubt. You admired him for fighting through his condition, for never giving up, or giving in, you knew he was still looking for ways to cure his leg, and ease the other ailments, and you had quickly realized that all you could do, was be by his side and support him, no matter what.

He never asked for it, of course not, his pride and sense of self-preservation wouldn't allow him so, and you also didn't force him to accept your help, you just did it in subtle ways, too gentle and nonchalant for him to notice what you were doing until you were doing it, and then he never stopped you.

Like now. You had read that warmth was good for sore muscles, so lying your whole body on top of his (even though you could only cover so much of his much bigger frame) was a way to ease his pain, but also to keep him entertained while he waited for the potion to work its magic.

And frankly, a tiny part of you wasn't as selfless as he might see you sometimes, you also wanted a bit of fun, because, after last night, you were sore as well, your entire lower body was aching, the bruises deep within were throbbing painfully. Of course you'd never admit to it, his stubbornness surely had rubbed off on you at some point. But even though you had never been that sore before, you couldn't stop grinding against him because the tiniest bit of friction gave you those pleasant chills that quickly lured these soft little mewls out of your throat that you knew he loved so much.

So, really, this was for both of your pleasures.

You felt him breathing quicker, rougher, his hard erection pressing against your soft flesh, and you were so tempted to slide off him and take care of it with your hands and mouth, but you forced yourself to remain lying on him, forcing his tense body to relax, until he would make a move himself, until he was able to move again.

When he would eventually raise his hands and place them on your hips, you sighed deeply into his neck. He made you stop moving, his fingers gripping your soft flesh, the warmth of his palms easing the shivers running down your spine. Slowly he turned his head towards you, his gaze dark and almost intimidating, as if he was about to lecture you, but you saw the small twinkle in his eyes, that tiny twitch at the corner of his lips.

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his stubbled cheek, then moved further up and captured his mouth for a slightly timid kiss until he replied the motion in full, his tongue quickly finding yours in a sensual wrestle. Your fingers slipped into his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you squirmed on top of him while he kneaded your hips, the friction between your sexes sending a warmth through your body that eased the soreness within. Or maybe your desire for him was simply overriding the pain.

Or, a thought that made you question your own sanity at times, you enjoyed the pain so much you didn't care if it might get worse, you just needed him inside of you, you needed him to poke your bruises, you needed to do it all over again. And again. And again...

A low moan slipped past your lips as you pushed your pelvis against his, your breaths as erratic as your heartbeat. Yet despite the unquenchable thirst for him, you looked at him after you gave him a soft peck, slowly leaning away from the searing kiss that left you both breathless, your eyes on his tense face, reading the stoic expression for any signs of discomfort.

He responded by gripping your hips before he moved his hands along the curves of your rear. Slowly he slipped his fingers between your cheeks, down the back of your thighs, gently prying your legs open so you were straddling him, your core now really pressing against his hard cock.

His dark eyes bored into yours, sending deep shivers down your spine, and when he put his hands back on your waist and started guiding you on top of him, you gasped softly and moved with him, sliding your wet folds over his length, every downwards motion rubbing against your clit, the friction and warmth almost too much to bear.

More moans escaped you as you felt your thighs twitching against his, and you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck as you started to feel that tension building in your stomach. Your sore insides contracted, the sharp pain piercing your nerves like tiny daggers, causing you to wince and whine softly, but you leaned into it, you wanted more. And he held you closer, his fingers digging into your skin, moving you faster against him.

Your whole body shuddered, pressed to his, your breasts squished against his broad chest, hard nipples rubbing against his rough chest hair with every upwards motion, your arms cradling his head as you tried to hold onto anything in your growing frenzy. You moved faster against him, grinding, gyrating, bucking your hips into his, your wetness spreading between your bodies, easing the friction, and when your thighs clenched around him and his fingers gripped your waist almost brutally as he groaned beneath you, you felt that knot bursting within you, lights dancing behind your eyelids, an explosion of warmth making you dizzy as you came against him hard.

Writhing and convulsing against him, he held you close as you stopped moving, his arms wrapped around your small frame, his breaths loud in your ear as you whimpered softly through your release. Once you regained a little bit more control over your spasming limbs, you caressed his hair, snuggled your face into his neck before you left a series of hazy kisses on his skin, slowly making your way towards his face until you could capture his mouth with yours.

His big hands moved over your bare back, rubbing soothing circles into it before he slipped one of them into your hair and held your head as he kissed you back with growing fervour, slow and gentle at first, then more passionate, hungry even, and you felt the need burning against your throbbing core. You still felt the slight ache in your loins, but you couldn't care less about the pain as you slowly lifted your hips and shifted on top of him, still glued to his lips.

Before he could stop you, you had slipped a hand between your bodies and gently grabbed his cock. It was already covered in your juices, and you only stroked him a few times, feeling his tight skin moving over his hardened core, before you guided him towards your entrance. He ceased kissing you then, breathing hard against your lips, his dark eyes boring into yours, the silent question lingering between you.

“I'm fine,” you whispered, your warm mouth hovering over his. “Are you?”

He stared at you, long and hard, a gaze full of doubt and worry, but also swimming with lust and desire. And so he gave you a short nod and a grunt, and you didn't hesitate any longer before you lowered yourself onto him, feeling his tip breaching your entrance, slowly sliding deeper. Your walls protested, clenching, the muscles still tight and sore, but you pushed through, literally, with tiny snaps of your hips, forcing yourself onto him until he was buried deep inside of you, and you gasped in pain and relief when he prodded your innermost spot, filling you out completely.

He groaned deeply, your tightness almost too much for him, and he had to close his eyes to adjust to the sensation. His body felt better than when he had woken up, no longer as stiff, but the aches were still there. At least he could hold you in his arms, pressed to his chest, your warmth seeping into him, and knowing you, he wouldn't have to do much else. Yet you also took your time to adjust to his intrusion, to the stretch of your walls, and he could only imagine the pain of your sore muscles and the throbbing bruises he had given you last night.

You were brave, stronger than you looked, but also just as stubborn as he was. Too stubborn to let pain get in your way. A trait you certainly had in common. When you eventually moved, he saw the strain on your beautiful face. One of his hands moved to your cheek, tracing the scar that was a constant reminder of how resilient and valiant you truly were, every protruding line a testament of what you had to overcome in your young life.

You watched him closely, lips parted and trembling as you started grinding your hips against him, and whenever you winced, he would caress you gently, hold you tightly, show you his support. Your cheeks warmed beneath his touch, and you smiled softly at him, moved by his constant display of affection.

He pulled you closer then, pressing his lips to yours lovingly, a slow and kind kiss, and while your hips stilled against him, you kissed him back just as mildly, simply savouring the feeling of his hardness resting inside you, your walls holding him firmly, slowly easing around the stretch. A sudden fatigue washed over you, and you could have fallen asleep like that, but you were too selfless after all to leave him hanging like that.

It was only fair to give him the same release you'd had earlier. And surely it would help him relax and soothe the aches of his stiff limbs. So you started moving again, slowly grinding your hips, lifting them just enough to feel your walls clinging to his shaft before you moved back down, enveloping him fully once more. Your own wetness grew with every motion, easing the friction, allowing you to move faster on top of him.

Eventually you broke the gentle kiss and leaned back, your hands on his shoulders as you looked down at him, your face flushed, lips swollen and raw, pupils dilated. Your chest was rising and falling fast, small breasts bouncing with every slight movement, and he watched you closely, feeling that warmth gathering inside his stomach.

His hands moved up and cupped those soft mounds, calloused fingers kneading your flesh, while rough thumbs teased your nipples, and you arched your back into his touch and leaned backwards more, your hands now resting behind you on his legs, nimble fingers massaging his sore muscles at the same time as you used them as leverage while you started to bounce up and down on him, faster and harder, your walls clenching around his cock, your bum smacking against his thighs, your noises filling the air, mixing with that wet squelching sound you got more and more accustomed to.

Goosebumps rippled over your skin, your mewls falling from your open mouth, as you rode him to your heart's content, eyes fluttering close as you succumbed to the tension building up inside, that sweet, searing warmth that spread through you like wildfire.

You barely noticed when his hands left your breasts to move lower, sliding along your sides, holding your hips, but then he moved one hand even lower, and when the rough pad of his finger brushed against your throbbing clit, you cried out and convulsed on top of him.

He rubbed you through your approaching release, as your muscles contracted around him, your straining thighs twitched, your arms shook as you gripped his legs in support. Stars danced in front of your eyes as you mewled and moaned, barely able to keep your rhythm, but then he started jerking his hips upwards, pushing you right over the edge.

You came hard on his cock, wetness seeping past your connection, your walls so tight around him he let out a deep grunt, then more strained groans, and the hand that was not assaulting your clit held onto your hip tight enough to leave bruises as you felt him twitching against and inside you.

You were floating on your high, head spinning, heart racing, breaths too erratic to get any oxygen into your empty lungs, and yet you tried your best to pull him along the edge with you, forcing yourself to move despite the spasming of your body and weak state of your limbs, and in the end he came right after you, his loud moan sending shivers down your already tingling spine.

You felt him pushing in all the way, stilling there, then erupting deep within, his warmth filling you to the brim and beyond as he painted your walls and shot his seed straight into your womb, past the bruises he'd left last night. The pain was welcome, adding to the sensation of blissful delirium.

A soft little whimper escaped you as you froze in your position on top of him, hands holding his thighs, back arched, hair falling over your shoulder, face contorted in nothing but pure ecstasy while your body moulded to his, deeply connected through warmth and wetness and deeper feelings of belonging and affection. He was a part of you, physically and mentally, and it pained you to think about ever having to leave him.

Slowly you came down from your high, arms and legs going limp, and still you remained sitting on him, holding onto him, not wanting to move to break the magic that swirled around you, connecting you on so many levels. His warm hands found your thighs, gently rubbing your pebbled flesh as the occasional wave of goosebumps rushed over your skin whenever he twitched against your bruised cervix.

You felt hot and cold at the same time, and yet you didn't want the sensation to ever stop. The pain was as exhilarating as it was addictive. Once you regained a semblance of control, you even ground deeper against him, wanting him to really press into those bruises, and whenever he did, you'd wince and whimper, shudders crashing through your body.

He watched you for a long moment, mesmerized by those sounds falling from your lips and those tiny twitches that vibrated through his body as well, but the strained expression on your face worried him. His hands found your waist, and even though you protested, he gently lifted you off him. Your walls clung to him, not wanting to let go either, but eventually your connection broke, his spent member slipped out, his seed dripping from your clenching cunt in thick globs, and you rolled off him and onto your side, sighing deeply as you nestled against him.

Wrapping one arm around your tiny frame, he pulled you halfway onto his chest, your head heavy on his shoulder. Your hand rested on his warm skin, his heartbeat steady against your palm, as you relaxed fully, the pain slowly ebbing away into a lazy throbbing deep within. At least it distracted you from the empty feeling inside, but the sudden coldness still gripped your limbs and made you quiver against him.

He raised his free hand and flicked his finger to summon a thick blanket that moved up and gently enveloped both of your bodies, the warmth welcome, even if it was only external. Breathing deeply against him, you looked up at him, surprised to meet his dark gaze.

“How –” you both started at the same time, causing you to giggle and him to grunt a short, deep laugh. He tilted his chin and gave you a curt nod.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, rubbing his chest under the blanket.

“Better,” he said, and it wasn't even a lie. Your efforts to relax him were definitely successful. He wouldn't leave this bed anytime soon (and frankly, he didn't want to either), but he felt content, and the soreness in his muscles wasn't as incapacitating anymore. “What about you?” he then returned the question, and you bit your lip.

“I'm good,” you replied.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, your cheeks blushing deeply.

“You're not sore?” he asked, frowning doubtfully.

You gave him a soft chuckle. “Oh, I am sore,” you said truthfully, yet before he could say anything, you leaned up and kissed his jaw. “But I love it...” He raised an eyebrow. “It's something I take with me when I have to leave you, your bed, your room, when I have to pretend to be just another student. It reminds me –” You inhale deeply, rubbing your nose against his rough cheek. “It reminds me how lucky I am...”

“Lucky?” he grunted, pulling you slightly closer to him while his free hand moved up to trace patterns on your temple until he moved his attention to your scar again.

“Yes, lucky. Lucky that you allowed me into your life,” you whispered, watching him closely. Neither of you were particularly good at talking about feelings, you mostly conveyed those through actions, so you were a little nervous about your confession.

He looked at you, his face the stoic mask he always wore, but there was a warmth in his dark eyes, the creases around them deepening slightly. “But I'm the lucky one,” he then said quietly, his voice low and husky. “To have such an incredible young woman at my disposal...” He winked at you. “No, I mean it, I am lucky to have you, lucky you indulge me so much...” His face grew more serious again, and you felt your heart swelling and skipping simultaneously. “I truly don't deserve you,” he added darkly, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

“And what makes you think I deserve you?” you whispered back, blinking quickly as you felt your eyes watering. “I'm just a simple girl... nothing special... and you are... you –”

He shushed you by pulling your face up and against his lips, his kiss demanding and sweet at the same time. You sank into the touch, closing your eyes, kissing him back with a desperation that almost scared you. You needed him, so much it hurt, and the pain was not necessarily the good kind. A single tear slipped from your lashes, and when he felt it against his calloused fingers, he leaned back slowly, looking at you warmly.

“Sweetheart, you are very special to me,” he rasped against your lips, his thumb wiping at your cheek.

“A-and you... t-to me...” you replied, choking on your words as a strange feeling flooded your insides, making it hard to speak. It settled deep in your stomach, a weird fluttering motion, warm and enticing, something you could get used to, something you wouldn't want to miss ever again.

He smiled at you and kissed you again before he pulled you tighter against him, his strong arms encircling you protectively. A single sob escaped you as you pressed your face against his neck. You felt him exhale loudly against you.

It should have never come to this.

He didn't even know how it had started. In the beginning he had just wanted to console you, help you along, show you that a simple scar didn't have to define your life and that no one should judge you for it. And somewhere along the way, you had turned it around, you had helped him, first by being there for him, spending time with him, smiling and listening and just enjoying his company. And then...

Then things had taken another turn, and he had started to feel attracted to you, to your beautiful face as well as your beautiful soul. Your kind, lovable, innocent soul. You were still so pure to him, even now (despite the highly inappropriate things he made you do, or rather he inspired you to do to him). He had torn down the wall he had erected, telling himself to never engage with a student, but the line had been crossed so easily, and it had felt right to hold you in his arms, to kiss you, to connect with you, to become one.

You had made him feel cherished, desirable, you still did, whenever your deep eyes would stare into his soul, he knew how much he meant to you, how far the both of you had taken this relationship. Relationship. Something he had never wanted, and yet here he was, holding you in his arms, feeling the love you had for him even though you couldn't quite voice it yet. But he felt it, in every touch, every kiss, saw it in every look, every smile, every blush of your cheeks.

And when he had felt the cold stab of jealousy, the need to call you his and his alone, he had known he felt the same, and he hoped you would see it in his eyes too. Even though he had never wanted this, he was very glad you had stepped into his life.

Pressing his lips to the top of your head, he held you close, taking in your sweet scent, feeling your warmth seeping into his body, easing the pain in his tight muscles. He wished he could give you more to remember him by than the soreness you seemed to be so strangely fond of.

So he opened up even more, more than he would have allowed himself before he had met you. His voice was raw and gruff, very quiet, but you heard him all the same when he whispered:

“I love you...”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and another tear fell from your eyes as you gave a pleasantly surprised little giggle. You had never expected to hear this from him. Despite all the intimacies you had already shared, just how close you were to him, and with how often you saw each other, you had never even hoped to hear these three words that felt so heavy and yet so light, they made you feel so warm and fuzzy, and the pain within your body dissipated immediately.

“I...” you whispered and leaned up slowly, nuzzling your nose against his neck, then his jaw, and when you kissed his cheek, you noticed how warm it felt. He had his eyes closed, feigning ignorance, but you knew he was waiting for a reply. So you leaned over him and kissed him softly. “I love you, too...” you breathed against his lips.

He acknowledged your words with a deep grunt that vibrated through your body before he kissed you back gently, firmly, until his hands grabbed your hair, and he pulled you in more, conveying all those emotions he couldn't possibly put into words into actions as usual.

That was your dynamic, and you were completely fine with it as you rolled on top of him and kissed him hungrily, already forgetting how you had started your morning, already wanting more.

Always wanting more.

End notes: Uhh, a declaration of love, yuck! No, really, I was debating if it fit here, or if it was too much. But I've now written four parts (a fifth is already in the making) of this constellation, and I feel these characters would be at this point now. They didn't have much dialogue before, so this felt a little strange, but also completely right and necessary! Sometimes, you need a little bit of fluff to your smut, right?

Also it's rather tame, but it was the aftermath of a rough night, so I didn't want to overdo it. They'll do more in the next part, I promise!

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