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animasola86 · 1 month

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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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coffeeandmagicaltales · 28 days

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Aesop Sharp, ancient God of 5 More Minutes.

Here he his: adorable, charming and grumpy potions master. He's just crept out of his bedroom to: check time, realize it's still damn early, and go back to sleep.

#professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy meme #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #aesop sharp smut #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 1 month

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On this day a year ago, I published my first Hogwarts Legacy fic Some Like It Sharp. Back then I had no idea just how it would explode, and I'm still so grateful for every new read of it. But more than that, I am grateful for what followed - it was thanks to this fic that I met the incredible @tea-withjamandbread who has been the best friend to me this past year, showing me do much kindness and companionship, and I try to do my best at reciprocating. And I met so so many other friends thanks to taking this little leap of faith and publishing my work. I'll try my best to tag all, but if I miss anyone, please feel free to contact me and kick my bum for forgetting you 😅 @dzajna @thriftstorebabayaga @endeavour12345 @ynyseira @julietpricee @empyreanroses @voxophile @misssugarcat @roomofretirement @phinik-nonw @sharpcroft @ladyelizabethraven @juneymont @aesopsharpstuff @superconductivebean @coffeeandmagicaltales @gufu-vire @rebeca-r @fizzlewick @dreambender96 @coolmiaw @megskoomapirate @theauthor2103

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone 😅

Thank you all so much that this past year I was able to write, draw, and grow by your side and with your input. It hadn't been the easiest year, but I found that the rewards of it outshine all pain 💖 You're brilliant people, thank you so much.

And thank you for reading Some Like it Sharp ❤️

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #reader insert #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #anniversary #fic anniversary

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zvdvdlvr · 19 days

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— Give Me A Reason

synopsis. You want to be an Auror. As one of his favorite and brightest students, Aesop tries to convince you to not put your life on the line for a job. warnings. Making out. Age gap. Student/teacher. Self deprecation. Reader is the hero of hogwarts. R is in seventh year (aged 18). Mutual pining. Idiots. “In all seven years of my student-ing,” you said abruptly, drawing Professor Sharp’s attention from the essays he graded. “I’ve only heard you bring up your Auror days twice. May I go as far as to ask why?”

The man leaned back in his chair, watching the student he had grown to care for as… Professor Sharp watched you keep a careful eye on your Vertiserum as you organized potion ingredients on his shelves. “There isn’t much to speak about anymore. It was dangerous, and even when it wasn’t… there was never a moment in my life I wouldn’t look over my shoulder at every snap of a twig.”

“But…?” You prompted, knowing the potion’s master had more to tell you: he just liked to torture you.

“But the job has it’s… rewards. The pay is good. I hated the paperwork though.”

“Ew,” you agreed, moving onto the next shelf after adjusting the temperature of the fire below the cauldron.

A seed of fear suddenly bloomed in Aesop’s mind. “Is there a reason you’re asking about Aurors?”

You nodded. “It’s one of the only jobs I’m interested in. I have the grades for it, the experience,” you bit your lip, a rush of memories crossing your brain as you thought about all the escapades you pulled off in your first (fifth) year at Hogwarts. “It’s… the only job I see myself doing.”

Professor Sharp felt his stomach drop. No. There was no way he was sending in one of the brightest students he’d ever taught into a system that would likely kill her. “The paperwork is what you’d be stuck doing most of the time,” the man lied.

You looked surprised. “Oh.”

Aesop felt a flush of hope in his chest, hoping desperately to persuade you away from the career of an Auror. Anything but that.

“I’d still do it,” you said finally, a determined tone in your voice.

The hope died. “I see,” Aesop murmured disapprovingly.

“Why do I get a feeling you aren’t thrilled about my career choice?” You asked, finishing the second shelf.

“I was wondering when you’d catch on. Points to (your house),” Aesop wittly replied. His small smile disappeared. “Miss y/l/n, to be quite frank with you, the job will take a toll on you- mentally and physically. Not only will you undergo numerous field injuries, there is always the chance you would… die. This job is dangerous, isolating, and overall not a very enviable job.”

You just nodded. “I understand that risk, Professor. But I have a reason for wanting the job. I have a reason to put my life on the line for others. A reason for… for my own life to be sacrificed for others to live peacefully, should the time come. I’ve already thought this through.”

“Then tell me your reason. Give me a reason why your life is not as important as others’s?” Professor asked, sharp eyes watching your rigid form slowly turn to him.

“I’ve nothing keeping me here. I have the talent, and you cannot deny it. This- This is the only thing I’ll have after graduation! I- Professor, please don’t talk me out of this,” you pleaded, eyes glinting in the dim light of the classroom.

Now you’ve done it, old man. But he pressed on. “‘Nothing keeping you here’?!” The man stood up, furious, disappointed, and… surprisingly sad. “This isn’t a joke, y/l/n. You have plenty of things ‘keeping you here’! Your little Sallow friend, that Sweeting girl, the blind boy you sit by,” Aesop listed angrily, unconsciously stalking towards you. “Merlin, you have-“ he cut himself off abruptly, realizing the word he was going to say after. Me. Me, y/n, you have me. A part of Aesop scoffed: idiot, you are; only a fool would want an old cripple like you and everyone knows y/n isn’t a fool- besides, she’s a student. Date a student and people are going to wonder if you were given special treatment.

”Who else, Professor?” You asked, tilting your head to look at the man you had been crushing on for the last few years. Please, you thought, say it.

You took the smallest step forward, making Aesop realize how close he was to you. Your intense gaze held him there, refusing to move. He knew what you wanted, and he knew it would be disastrous if he gave in. But, truly, he was only a man. Standing in fromt of an intelligent, talented, beautiful, and witty woman. “Me,” the man whispered, tearing his gaze away from you.

“Give me a reason not to, Aesop. Give me a reason to st-“ you hadn’t finished your sentance before Aesop’s shaking hands grasped your side and pulled, forcing your body against his. He kept one hand on your nack, lightly holding onto him in case you suddenly fled for the door and moved one callused hand to your face. He brushed away a stray hair and his eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes.

“Tell me to stop,” Aesop whispered. His voice, low and gravely, made you shudder against his body.

Your eyelashed fluttered as you struggled to stay calm in his overwhelming presence. “Kiss me.”

Aesop’s lips locked onto yours, a low groan bubbling out of his mouth and being swallowed by yours as you kissed back with the same passion as he. Aesop cursed himself, knowing you could easily realize who you were making out with and run off, taking Aesop’s heart with you.

But maybe you needed this as much as he did. Your small gasps and whimpers surely fanned the flames of Aesop’s hope that you wanted him. Your hand slid up Aesop’s wide back and threaded into his hair, tangling. He groaned at your actions.

You pulled away abruptly, resting your forhead on Aesop’s shoulder. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“Was that good enough of a reason?” Aesop asked, knowing full well you were still probably imagining yourself as an Auror.

“Kiss me again and I’ll see if it was truly satisfactory,” you joked, looking up at the man who’s heart was currently in your unknowing hands.

“Y/n,” Aesop finally murmured, hand still on the small of your back. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

”What?”

“Promise me when you’re on the field… promise me that you’ll be safe.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I promise. Sir, what-“

“I can’t damage your reputation by being in public with you like this. As much as I wish, it cannot be. At least, not in the near future,” he whispered, resting his chin on your head.

“I know.”

Silence fell over the pair: you not wanting to move from Aesop’s comforting arms and Aesop not wanting you to go.

“I think your Veritaserum is done,” Aesop said.

You laughed, still clinging to Aesop.

#aesop sharp #fluff #x female reader #jules writes 📓🖊#female reader #x reader #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts oc #wizarding world #professor aesop sharp #professor sharp #daddy sharp #hogwarts legacy meme

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strawberrypinky · 9 months

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all your loving (all or nothing) pt. 2 - a. sharp x reader

for the longest time, aesop sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. but as the months went on and the weather became warmer, and the flowers were blooming again, he found himself believing that reprieve was possible – even for someone like him.

or: aesop sharp is an idiot in love with a breeding kink and this escalated in ways i can never speak of – part two baby!

A/N: Part Two of what was supposed to be a single, short and smutty one shot of my recent fictional obsession: Professor Sharp. Part two is where the breeding kink 'finally' hits – apologies in advance. I haven't written smut in quite a while and I shockingly have never published any before. The depravity was strong with this one and I sincerely hope my mother never finds this. I may be in my twenties but she'd still ship me off to a convent if she did.

Please remember that this takes place during Victorian Times – Women were not nearly as educated as we are today on Sex and Pleasure. MC is a virgin – so she might come off as slightly naive/dumb at times. It's all consensual tho, don't worry.

Thank you again to @legacygirlingreen for enabling me & being my number one supporter on the road to hell. I couldn't have done this without you (seriously, you were a saint) 🤪💚 This one is for you 💚

To everyone reading this; I have never written 'x Reader' before, so please give me some grace for trying 🙏🏻 This was a first. Part Two is the 'final' (as if this wasn't supposed to be a one shot either way lol) - however if someone enables me enough, part three is always a possibility. That said; please don't enable me 💀

Onwards now; I have promised @fizzlewick a Regency/Pride and Prejudice AU! with our favourite Potions Professor as Mr. Darcy.

FYI: (Y/N) - Your Name (Y/L/N) - Your Last Name (Y/E/C) - Your Eye Colour (Y/H/C) - Your Hair Colour

CW (here we go): Fluff, Romance, Idiots in Love, Miscommunication, Pining, Age Difference (Aged up Main Character), Canon Divergence (bc I can't stand to kill Fig off), Spoiler Alert for Hogwarts Legacy, Implied Hufflepuff MC (not specified), Porn with Plot, Victorian attitudes towards Sex, Smut (18+, MDNI - lord, forgive me): Loss of Virginity, Breeding Kink, Impregnation, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral Sex (fem receiving), Cockwarming, Accidental Virginity Kink

Word Count (Part 2): 15.5k (again - this escalated)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48482581/chapters/123361243

Part One: Click here

For the longest time, Aesop Sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. But as the months went on and the weather became warmer, and the flowers were blooming again, he found himself believing that reprieve was possible even for someone like him.

She loved him.

She. Loved. HIM.

It was a mantra that he found himself repeating over and over again, never quite believing that this wasn't some sick and twisted dream he would wake up from. But it wasn't a dream, and the extraordinary woman he had fallen in love with, had fallen for him too. He fell asleep with her in his arms every night since that night, his room practically vacant, only for him to return to in the early morning to get dressed and prepare himself for the day ahead, and each morning he fell in love all over again – her face aglow in the morning light. It was bliss. Pure and delicious bliss.

They had kept their newfound romance largely private, restricted to lingering touches when nobody could see and the small reprieve her hut could offer, though Aesop suspected that their colleagues knew. At the very least, they presumed their dynamic had shifted, even if they did not know to which extent. His love hadn't even told Eleazar, which surprised Aesop, given that the man truly was like a father to her (and a much better one at that, too), but it made their love all the more sacred. If ever Aesop paid Dinah any attention over dinner, he could spot her knowing smirk, carefully hidden behind her goblet, but it was there even if she never outright said anything.

His mood had much improved, no longer weighed down by the constant nagging feeling of unrequited love and the lingering 'What if?' – her smile and scent no longer torturous but a source of comfort and longing. He still wondered what she saw in him, but the devotion she looked at him with let him believe that this could be forever. Selfishly he let himself dream of days in the English countryside, hidden away in cottages from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, but if selfishness was what this yearning was, Aesop would let himself be a greedy glutton, for he never wished to miss her presence in his life again.

"You think too much," she mumbled, curled into his chest as the sun was slowly starting to rise on the horizon, filling her hut with a glowing orange light.

"I think too much?" he smiled down at her, her eyes still closed in bliss, his masculine scent of firewhiskey and sandalwood enveloping her senses. He had heard that one before.

"Mhm," she hummed, opening her tired eyes to look up at his, his hair still dishevelled and unkempt. "I can almost hear your brooding."

"Apologies, my lady," he jested. "I will be careful to not disturb your beauty sleep any further."

"I will hold you to it", she sighed, falling into his warm embrace, wholly content. "A gentleman should stay true to his word."

"I'm hardly a gentleman," Aesop chuckled lowly. "For if I was, I would not be in your bed without a ring on your finger and a shared last name."

He could see a blush spreading on her cheeks, a timid look of amusement gracing her gentle features. "Perhaps not," she expressed, "but I recall you calling yourself my husband a while ago."

"To defend your honour," the potions master retorted lowly, still enraged whenever someone brought up her unfortunate family. Her father was as equally exasperating as Phineas Black – a herculean task in Aesop's mind, and he had only met the guy for but a single moment.

"How gallant of you," (Y/N) snickered, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "I have been irredeemable in his eyes the very second I boarded the carriage to Hogwarts."

"Hm..." Aesop mumbled, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, feeling the soft lock between his calloused fingers. "Forgive my sharp tongue, but I do not believe I give a single fuck as to what that poor excuse of a man thinks. And neither should you, my love."

"Aesop Cyril Sharp!" his beloved gasped, accompanied by a light slap on his chest. "What a poor choice of words in front of a lady."

Aesop's chest rumbled with laughter, his arms tightening around (Y/N) as she grinned up at him, his heart jumping with glee. They held each other, content as the world around them slowly awoke from its slumber – a new day signalling its commencement. It was a moment of serenity, a place nobody but them existed before they would soon go about their days again, following their routines as they needed to, sharing the glances of secret lovers before their rather clandestine encounters at night would reunite them once more – and Aesop was already counting down the hours, waiting until his love was in his arms again.

"You'll have to sneak back to the castle soon," the young woman in his arms sighed, a dejected pout on her lips.

"I feel like a whippersnapper," Aesop groaned. "Surreptitiously wandering about the grounds."

She giggled gleefully again, pressing herself into his chest. "You are my whippersnapper then."

Aesop's heart jumped again, overfilling with love and boastful pride at the determinative she had used— My whippersnapper.

"Indeed I am," he sighed contently, pressing a kiss atop her head, inhaling her saccharine scent as her hair tickled his nose.

Wistfully Aesop rose from his comforting and warm position on the bed, hissing as his leg protested the movement. Some days it hurt worse than others – today looked to be a rather grim day, even if the days had become warmer again. She was at his side in a second, her arms wrapped around his middle in comfort.

"Do you need me to get you your potion? Or anything else?"

"No," Aesop pressed out, clenching his teeth for a second before he released a shuddering breath, massaging his leg with disdain. He felt as if a perfectly fine morning had been ruined – another reminder that he was wholly inadequate when the woman behind him was not. She only hummed, letting her nimble small hands trace his arms in a soothing motion before pressing a kiss at the nape of his neck. He stood up with careful steps after a while, avoiding too much pressure on his blasted leg.

As he swiftly exchanged his nightshirt for the suit he had worn yesterday, he could hear (Y/N) bustling in the main room of her hut, likely preparing a cup of tea for him as she usually did before he left. The fragrant aroma of Earl Grey fills his nose; the cup appearing in front of him with a tiredly smiling (Y/N) as he gratefully took the cup from her, perfectly warm and not too hot. She traced patterns on his arm as he greedily drank from the cup, the warmth filling his body and providing a strange relief to his leg, reducing the pain to a bearable thrumming.

"Did you put something in here?" Aesop asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Perhaps," she tilted her head with a sly grin. "Did it help?"

"It...did," He avowed, placing the cup on the nightstand before pulling her into his arms.

"Whenever I had a second to spare, I tried to brew on my own," her fingertips still danced over his arms. "You do not have to do this alone anymore, Aesop."

"I do not need your pity," he frowned, though he kept his arms around her waist in a protective embrace. Humiliation coursed through him at her admittance – he was incomplete, crippled. Whatever did she want with him? Surely someone more capable would be able to give her much more, even if the mere thought of her in the arms of someone else asphyxiated him like –

"I know you do not," she smiled, interrupting his train of thought. "Would you let me suffer if I were in pain from a curse?"

"Of course not," Aesop brisked, incensed at the mere thought. "I would not want you suffering needlessly."

"Then do not expect me to sit by idly for you," she whispered, pulling him down by the lapel of his coat. "My foolish whippersnapper."

His lips met hers with a pleased hum, his beard scratching her soft skin, undoubtedly leaving a slight burn.

Perhaps Aesop could truly be selfish – because if the gods above blessed him with the celestial woman in his arms, nothing but believing that reprieve was possible for someone like him was imaginable.

When the weather got even warmer, and June approached them, final exams were soon to be held – as they were every year. Aesop and (Y/N) found themselves busier than ever; their time spent together dwindled to a minimum, which left Aesop rather frustrated most days. More often than not, Aesop had to spend his nights preparing odd brews his students would need to identify, never mind the endless amounts of Invigoration and Calming Draughts Madam Blainey requested at an alarming rate. In any case, Aesop felt like he was drowning in work – a common occurrence towards the end of the school – so it was a welcome distraction when he was forced to leave the dungeons for just a day, even if the trip he needed to take was all but a requirement for him to continue his brewing in the first place.

Aesop's potion supplies were dwindling at a quick pace, and neither his love nor Mirabel were able to keep up with the demand; thus, he found himself forced to take a trip to Feldcroft. Bernard Ndiaye was able to provide Aesop with a few of the missing ingredients, so on a sunny Saturday afternoon, his love and he took the short trip to Feldcroft, a village she had unfortunately only gotten to know under less than cheerful circumstances. Ever since she had successfully fought Ranrok and his rebellion, the hamlet, which had nearly been in ruins once, had been rebuilt and was now a flourishing and quaint place filled with life and many small families.

"I used to think this place was right out of a storybook," she chirped next to him, their arms intertwined as they walked through the Scottish Highlands, approaching Feldcroft with idle steps. The warm weather and the potion (Y/N) had brewed provided enough alleviation for Aesop to promenade for a short while – it was not a cure, nor a long-term solution to his predicament, but like their newfound romance, it was a new dawn.

"Is that so?" Aesop asked, looking down at her. "Well, they certainly owe you for their...liberation."

"I can hardly take all the credit," she waved him off, rosy blush on her cheeks. "They have done exceptionally well ever since Ranrok's loyalists have all but fled."

"Yes, well, and who is to credit for that? Remind me?"

"I do not know what you are talking about?" she grinned at him now, aware of how much her stories from her fifth year rattled him. Or, in Aesop's words, how much they would 'turn him grey before his time'.

"I believe the Order of Merlin that has been bestowed upon your name would beg to differ," he grunted.

"And it is rotting away in Eleazar's home – I have washed my hands of it a long time ago."

"Proudly displayed, no doubt."

"On the mantle of the fireplace," she affirmed with a desolate groan. "I have tried to convince him to burn it – his efforts have been largely in vain."

"He is exceptionally proud of you," Aesop explained with newfound kindness. "After Miriam died, he was... in a rather dark place. The rest of us staff were worried, which is why Matilda persuaded Black to send Eleazar your way when the Book spat out your name."

"Oh," she mumbled. "I never knew."

"You do know they never had children. To him, you are like his own."

"As he is like my father," she nodded absentmindedly. "I owe everything to him."

"A notion I'm confident he shares. So let him display that blasted Order – you are his greatest joy."

She did not argue with him; a slight nod was her only agreement. Aesop once again noticed how much smaller than him she was; the top of her head did not even reach his shoulders. In his mind, she fit into his side like a perfect puzzle piece.

Ndiaye now had a small shop instead the cart (Y/N) remembered from years ago, the place flourishing with the various plants and beast products that littered the business. Ndiaye, much like everyone else, recognised (Y/N) immediately, and Aesop was yet another step closer to grey hair upon hearing the story of how she recklessly risked her life – all for two crates of Chomping Cabbages. Mirabel would have been proud; Aesop was convinced of it.

When they exited his shop, by-products in hand and arms intertwined again, they were intercepted by none other than Sebastian Sallow himself.

"(Y/N)? Professor Sharp?!" the former Slytherin resident troublemaker exclaimed, bewildered, jogging up to the trio with large steps. His eyes did not leave their joined arms – looking at the couple like they had grown an extra head. He had grown up, no longer a chubby-faced teenager but a man with a sharp jawline, a full beard and broad shoulders; the only boyish thing remaining his flocculant and unkempt hair. Aesop still towered over him, unsurprisingly. He was exceptionally tall, after all.

"Sebastian!" his love exclaimed, freeing herself from Aesop's side to happily hug her closest friend – even if she seemed slightly surprised to see him. "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved to the Cotswolds?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sebastian teased with a sly grin, his eyes going back and forth between Aesop and her. "But truthfully, we're here because Anne wanted to meet Estelle."

'We're'? 'Estelle'? Aesop thought, befuddled – a sentiment his paramour did not share.

"Oh, I am so sorry I haven't come to visit!" she apologised profusely. "But Exams have been utterly crazy – we've hardly had any time to do much aside from grading and preparing."

Sebastian only waved her off with a content smile. "Don't fret – we used the time to acclimate to our lives now."

"I can only imagine," she chuckled. "Who would have thought? You, Mr Capital R Rake, Sebastian Sallow, would be the first of our group of misfits to marry and father a child?"

Ah, so this was what their conversation had been about. Of course – Aesop remembered now. (Y/N) had been quite affronted, if not downright disappointed, when Sebastian had kept his marriage and impending fatherhood a secret for months. When he timely announced the birth of his daughter, a child they had named Estelle, his love was over the moon for him and his wife and wouldn't stop talking about visiting the two.

Sebastian chuckled, his smile proud as he puffed out his chest. "Not me, that I'm sure of. Would you like to meet her? I'm confident Megan wouldn't mind."

"I would love to," she agreed, turning around to face Aesop. "Would you mind?"

"No, of course not," Aesop shook his head. "Shall I head back to the castle then?"

"Such a silly man," she giggled, grabbing his hand and masterfully ignoring the comically wide-eyed stare of Sebastian. "You must beat Ominis at his game of being the favourite uncle."

"When did this happen?!" he finally asked, looking as if he were ready to burst.

"February," (Y/N) admitted bashfully, wrapping her arm around Aesop's with a rosy smile. "We've been keeping it under our hats mostly."

"And you were mad I kept my marriage a secret?!" Sebastian sounded affronted, evidently not believing what he was witnessing.

"That's different. We're courting. Unlike someone here, I would not keep my marriage or motherhood a secret."

"That's not – Merlin, he's our old potions professor."

"I may be handicapped, Mr Sallow, but I can assure you, I can hear quite well," Aesop interjected, though he could not deny the happiness that surged in his heart upon his sweetheart admitting that they were courting to one of her dearest friends. She wasn't ashamed of him.

"We are colleagues, Sebastian. Equals," (Y/N) added, her tone leaving no room for any argument to be made. "In any case, you should be showing me, my niece, right now."

"This isn't over," Sebastian mumbled as he led them towards his aged childhood home, which his twin had settled in with her own partner, a travelling merchant from a nearby hamlet.

Aesop hadn't seen Anne Sallow for years, not since she had been cursed. He remembered her to be the ringleader of trouble before she left Hogwarts due to her unfortunate ailment, and while she had never found a cure for it, (Y/N) ending the reign of terror and life of Victor Rookwood – the man who had cursed her – enabled her to live a without day to day debilitating pain.

She was just as stunned as Sebastian had been upon hearing of their relationship, but she still chatted with her former professor, even if the conversation was entirely awkward. Aesop endured for her sake mostly, and it was worth it – nothing would ever make him forget the sheer and utter joy on his love's face when she held her tiny 'niece' in her arms.

Aesop was astonished at how such a wee little thing was able to tear such a starstruck and enchanted smile from a person – he was sure (Y/N) had never smiled as big. He watched as she cooed over little Estelle, her smile blinding as she cradled the tiny thing in her arms, carefully supporting her back and neck. She looked like she had done this a million times, positively natural, and Aesop didn't know whether it was her or him, but his mind was suddenly filled with pictures of her doing precisely this with their kids. When he was younger, he hadn't ever thought of kids, perhaps only as a natural consequence of marriage and marital relations and after his accident, he had written the prospect off entirely. No woman wanted a cripple, much less one as a father to possible children. Now, though, he had a woman who wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and she was young and had even admitted to wanting children. Perhaps they were a possibility after all?

"Aesop?" his beloved turned her attention towards him. "Isn't she just precious?"

"Certainly," Aesop agreed though he did not mean the baby – which was bound to be precious nonetheless. He could not help the smirk that graced his face upon catching Sebastian Sallow's indignant expression.

"You should hold her too," Megan, Sebastian's wife, suddenly suggested, a curious glance on her face.

"I really think I shouldn't," he chuckled upon seeing Sebastian Sallow's face contort strangely. Poor lad would likely never get used to it.

"No, please do," Megan, the wife of Sallow, smiled at him. "Ignore my husband - he's a little thickheaded."

"A little?!" Anne and (Y/N) giggled in unison, promptly ignoring the sound of indignance Sebastian let out.

"Excuse me for being confused over this...," he waved around wildly with his hands, "situation."

"Oh, please. Get over it," Megan rolled her eyes, a teasing grin on her face. "Besides, if our daughter is anything like us, having teachers in her corner will be a godsend when she inevitably gets into trouble at Hogwarts."

"Oh, so this is where it's coming from," Aesop shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't play favourites."

"You will," Megan winked conspiratorially, beckoning him to introduce little Estelle. With her delicate arms and gentle touch, (Y/N) placed the little girl in his arms, smiling at him as he held her; though he was not quite as natural as she was, the tiny thing held awkwardly in his arms. The baby was asleep, so he couldn't view her eyes, but if he had to, Aesop reckoned Estelle resembled her father far more than she did her mother. It made him stop and think about what his children would look like, and instantly, he wished, prayed, they would look like her.

"Not so bad after all, am I right, Bash?" Megan playfully jested, watching the disdain on her husband's face. "Even if our daughter looks positively tiny in those arms."

"She is tiny," Sebastian remarked. "And in any case, this is weird. (Y/N) you do know I thought him to be a git?"

"Sebastian!" Megan and (Y/N) gasped simultaneously, though Aesop could only snort in amusement.

"I wholeheartedly believed you to be one of my more promising students, Mister Sallow," Aesop admitted, his eyebrow raised as Sebastian looked at him with surprise. "If you had applied yourself a little more instead of recklessly breaking the rules and surging into things without even considering any consequence, I might have been less...stern with you."

"I do not surge into things without considering the consequences," Sebastian retorted with affronted indignance – the woman in the room now chortling with mirth.

"Oh no," Megan giggled. "That is precisely why you were cursed in that blasted tomb of the two lovers and thus experienced...ehem... heightened...carnal pleasure."

If Aesop had been a man to blush, he likely would have. Sebastian Sallow undoubtedly was. His love was, too, averting her gaze from anyone and anything – a ferocious blush on her cheeks.

"That was one time," he yapped, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Of course," Megan rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the woman beside her. "He was ready to deflower me in that very same tomb. We undoubtedly have to devise a sweeter story about our first meeting if Estelle ever asks."

"Agreed," Sebastian cleared his throat.

"That's really Sebastian, though," his love chuckled, blush still on her cheeks as she focused on the little babe in Aesop's arms, gently stroking her head in a motherly fashion. "I, for one, can recall a very similar event involving a goblin mine."

Aesop was certain his old heart would give out soon, for this was bound to be yet another tale of her recklessly, foolishly risking her life. She had an affinity for it, no doubt. The words 'goblin mine' were enough to fill him with terror and astonishment – He did not understand how she had survived this long.

"Do I want to know?" Aesop asked with a groan, eliciting a giggle from her.

"No," she shook her head with a wink. "No, you really don't."

"I, for one, agree," Sebastian shuddered. "I am not keen on getting slaughtered by an ex-auror today."

"Oh, Aesop is not that sinister," his love giggled.

"Oh no, I am," Aesop interjected with a threatening smile. "I may have been out of the field for over a decade, but best believe I can still make it look like an accident. I promised your...father," the word spat from his tongue, "as much."

"Your father?" Sebastian asked, his tone worried and, dare Aesop say, alarmed? "What..."

"I don't wish to talk about it," (Y/N) waved him off hurriedly. "Aesop dealt with him more than I did."

"Did he now?" Sebastian mused, a thoughtful look on his face. Suddenly he regarded Aesop with a little less disdain and horror.

Aesop did not count the minutes or hours they stayed at the former Sallow residence. It had been a pleasant change from the frenzied and fully engulfing pre-examination environment at the castle, the atmosphere joyful with little Estelle, even when she had briefly awoken and promptly shown off her impressively large lung. When he and his love were finally leaving, the sun was setting on the horizon, casting a beautifully orange glow over the Scottish Highlands, a warm summer breeze carrying the slightly salty air from the sea.

"Sharp?" Sebastian Sallow lowly called out to him as Megan and (Y/N) said their goodbyes, the latter cooing at the tiny baby in Megan's arms, seemingly not wishing to part from her at all.

"Yes?" Aesop sighed, his leg starting to ache and his mood souring as he remembered how much he would have to brew throughout the night.

"Did you truly meet her father?"

Aesop was surprised, though he tried not to let it show. Sebastian had been her friend for many years; perhaps he knew more than Aesop did, the issue of her father still one she avoided most days – not even considering the simple fact that she saw Eleazar as hers in any case.

"We did," he affirmed with a curt nod. "Dratted meater if you'd ask me."

"I can't say I ever had the displeasure of meeting the man," Sebastian scoffed. "But if you truly took care of him in her place, then...I suppose I should thank you.

Aesop only raised his eyebrow.

"She is akin to family for me and wholly responsible for me standing here at all. For being able to have a family – my daughter. What I am trying to convey, I suppose, is please take care of her."

"You have my word."

A week passed and then another, both in a similar manner as the others before had; their time largely spent apart during the days as they prepared their students for their final exams and OWLs and NEWTS. Yet when the sun had gone down, and the stars were glittering like a million diamonds over the castle, Aesop found himself precisely where he longed to be: in her home, her in his arms or next to him on the comfortable armchairs, the world around them away far enough for just a while. When in her hut, surrounded by warmth and the feeling of 'home', his thoughts cleared miraculously, no longer filled with exams and potions and students that likely would never achieve anything beyond a 'poor'.

Megan Sallow had, as Aesop continued to realise, been right: Little Estelle Sallow would enable him to play favourites – if he was still a Professor by then, of course. More notably, though, seeing his love hold the small child and holding her himself filled him with more and more dreams and desires for his own children, the dreams of days hidden in the English countryside now vividly brighter as tiny feet ran around his mind endlessly echoing as if he were stuck in an everlasting pensive memory. It was ludicrous, foolish even – just a mere year ago, Aesop had believed himself to be resigned to forever Bachelorhood, his fate of living alone and forlorn for the rest of his days not likely to ever change. But it had – for fate had steered a most exquisite and extraordinary woman on his path, and perhaps, just perhaps, she would be inclined to share more than just a life with him.

The very picture of her holding little Estelle was etched into his mind, creating a desire he hadn't thought possible. Aesop did not understand how something so small could hold such power over him. But it did. He wondered if –

"Sickle for your thoughts?" his lover's sweet voice pulled him from his thoughts as she placed her lesson plans for the following week on the small coffee table before she stood up and walked to her small stove.

"I was just reminiscing," he answered truthfully.

"Oh?" She looked at him with her soft gaze, her head titled in genuine interest. "What of?"

"Estelle," Aesop sighed. "I fear her mother may be right, and I will be playing favourites in a few years. Do not let Sallow know I said that, though."

"We both will," she chuckled, preparing another kettle to make more tea, the warm light of the fireplace painting her in an ethereal glow. Though the summer was comfortably mild, the evenings and nights still got cold; thus, Aesop was thankful she continued to light the fireplace. "She was just a darling little thing."

"Not as adorable as ours would be," Aesop let slip out, his tone even as he was only half joking as the thought continued manifesting in his mind. Their children would be more adorable - Aesop was sure of it. Especially because they would be hers – tiny, perfect replicas of her, with her wonderfully bright and loving eyes, her warm persona and exceptional talent.

"I am not certain where this is coming from all of a sudden, but," she shook her head. "You are not half as shocking as you think you are," giggling quietly as she helped herself to another cup of tea, the fragrant, flowery aroma of rooibos filling the space.

"Oh?" Aesop couldn't help but raise his eyebrow as he watched her. Her beautiful hair was shimmering in the low light of her cabin, her (Y/H/C) waves cascading down her shoulders just like Aesop adored, a shift from the elaborate updos and styles she commonly wore – her hair soft and full, likely smelling of citrus and hyacinth, her skin tingling with spring. In short: She was utterly irresistible.

He could almost feel his manhood straining against his breeches, observing her hum lowly as her hips swayed in an unfamiliar rhythm, her face content, complete with a dainty smile. The atmosphere felt domestic, and Aesop found himself pulled into visions of the English countryside again, the images becoming more vivid with each second that time passed them by. He wanted, needed, more.

"Your bark is far worse than your bite," she continued, her tone teasing as she shot him a grin before returning her attention to the stove.

Is that what she truly believed? That his bark was worse than his bite? Had she forgotten that he had been an Auror? That, realistically, he could crush her tiny body between two fingers?

Before Aesop could stop himself, he had risen from his position in front of the fireplace, stalking toward her like a predator seeking its prey – a fitting description in Aesop's mind. She did not notice him, and it was far too easy for him to slowly wrap his arms around her tiny waist and pull himself against her. He could feel her warm body tense below his fingers, her breath hitching as he towered over her. His hair fanned out against her cheeks when he leaned forward, his mouth brushing against her ear. Goosebumps were rising on her body, and he could make out the slightest shiver the closer he leaned into her.

He revelled in the way her body responded to his. So pliant. So... submissive.

"I can assure you, my love," he breathed out against her ear, "that my bite is just as bad."

An audible gasp escaped her as she fidgetted in his arms and turned around, though he kept his arms tightly locked around her waist – trapping her between the stove and himself. She stared up at him, her (Y/E/C) eyes wide as they met his blown-out pupils that bore into hers.

"A-Aesop," she stuttered out. He watched as her cheeks turned rosy, her mouth slightly open. Though their touches had lingered over the past weeks, and their nights had been spent in the embrace of one another, Aesop hadn't been particularly bold or forthcoming beyond precisely that – their romance sweet and innocent and virtuous. He knew of her inexperience, but ever so carefully, he moved his hand upwards, his touch a mere ghost against her body before reaching her face and cupping her chin below his finger. His thumb moved against her lips. They were plump and soft - as was the rest of her.

His self-control was slipping, his manhood straining, and he felt like a juvenile delinquent. Aesop didn't want or ask for many things in life, but at this moment, he desired her.

"Tell me, Y/N," he breathed out, "Do you truly believe that yourself?"

"I-"

His hands moved back to her hips, his hold somewhere between a tight grip and a gentle caress. He wanted to caress her, hold her, love her. And he was unable to suppress his desires any longer. He pressed his front against hers, letting her feel what she did to him, her audible gasp and rosy cheeks sending another jolt down his spine. Her cheeks were burning deliciously, and she simply stared at him.

"Aesop," she whimpered helplessly. He was all-consuming. His deliciously musky scent of sandalwood and firewhiskey enveloped her until all her senses were inhabited by him and only him. His body surrounded her, and the warmth he emitted was nearly suffocating, but it was Aesop, after all.

Aesop.

The same man she had grown to love as much as she had. A man she would entrust her entire life with, knowing that he would do the same. A man who loved her wholeheartedly by his own admittance, who had defended her honour against a man he had never known when she had not even been his. His beard was rough against her cheeks, his head slowly moving down as he pressed feather-light kisses on her jaw and neck. He deeply inhaled her scent, never getting enough, relishing in the slight tremors that shook his love and the whimpers that fell from her lips.

"My love," he mumbled as he continued to kiss her neck, bent down awkwardly to her much smaller height and frame, caressing her sides as he held her close. "You would be the most stunning mother." His hands found her hips, one of them reaching to carefully touch her lower stomach, the very place that would swell with their children, where she would safely carry them until they were ready to come earthside. His voice was gentle, scarcely above a whisper, yet its rough rumbling sound resonated within the air.

"Is that something you could wish for?" he mumbled, looking at her before he placed his lips upon hers, savouring her saccharine taste as they moved in sync; him much more dominating. "For me to make you a mother?"

Her eyes bulged, looking at him, shell-shocked with her mouth still open. "Ae-Aesop," she stuttered lowly, "where is this coming from?"

He smirked at her, his caramel eyes meeting hers with a piercing gaze – a heated shiver tumbling down her spine. "I have not stopped thinking about it ever since you have held Estelle. You were captivating."

His lips met hers again, a blazing fire of desire and want behind the kiss that swallowed her whole.

"Aesop we," she gasped. "We can't. We're not even wedded."

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth. If this was her only problem, it could easily be rectified. More so, Aesop wanted to rectify it. "You think I would want to fuck my children into some random woman?" His voice was several tones deeper, still pressed into her as she took in his unusually forthright and vulgar words with wide eyes. "If it were up to me, my love, we could be married on the morrow and expedite our wedding night."

"Y-you – you want to marry me?"

"Let me reiterate," Aesop whispered against her lips. "I will not fuck my children into anyone but my wife. Anything you yearn for, it's yours."

He observed her face carefully – meticulously. His love wore her heart on her sleeve, conflicting emotions clouding her features. This was her decision and hers alone; she would carry and birth their children, after all. Just before he could pull away and express to her that she had all the time in the world that she needed, her quiet, breathless voice reached his.

"Will it...hurt?" she asked with uncertainty, biting her lip as she stared up into Aesop's eyes. She knew very little of marital relations, her mother telling her just enough to understand what needed to happen for her to conceive. Beasts were luckily quite the same, but in any case, the act did not sound or seem pleasant – but for Aesop and a chance at a family with him, she could endure.

"For a second," he spoke truthfully. "Just a second."

"Okay," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, letting him place his lips against hers. His mouth felt dominating, his beard coarse against her soft skin, lightly distracting her from his manhood pressing into her lower stomach. Arousal, excitement, anxiousness... they coursed through her as she let herself be enveloped and cared for by him.

Aesop slowly guided her towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers, leaving him in a rather awkward position bent down to her height with his leg thrumming away lowly, but the sheer yearning was enough to make him forget the lingering pain, his sense zeroing in on her and the way her body felt beneath his fingertips. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against his as he kept pressing himself into her, his manhood finding purchase and a torturous relief; before, reluctantly, he moved his lips from hers, both of them breathing deeply.

Ever so carefully, with Aesop's eyes never leaving hers, his fingers moved to her front, carefully unbuttoning her bodice, her chest rapidly moving up and down.

"You do not have to lay with me if you don't wish to," Aesop mumbled, his hands ceasing their careful administrations though he held them at her chest.

"I want to," she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I trust you."

Aesop nodded with a smile, leaning in to kiss her again as his hands removed her bodice, his hands moving around her waist again to carefully unwrap her overskirt; before long, the delicate fabric joined her bodice on the floor, leaving her in her corset and bloomers. Their lips moved in unison, passionately filling his and her soul before they became one, and Aesop could feel her delicate, diminutive hands working to liberate him of his vest. He smiled contently into the kiss, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest at her rather ungainly movements of opening the buttons but allowing her to feel him just as he felt her. Aesop's hand trailed a line against the bone of her hip, his other hand holding her waist steady as the warmth of her body slowly seeped through the thick material of the corset. Pulling away, Aesop could see the peak of her breasts pressing against the corset, barely spilling over – teasing him deliciously.

Her delicate hands tugged at his vest before Aesop let it fall to the ground alongside her garb, leaving him in his breeches and a cotton blouse, some chest hair peeking through at the top. She smiled at him – shyly, nervously, but Aesop could not glimpse a flicker of uncertainty. Carefully, he reached around her, ably loosening the laces of her corset, before the torturous thing joined the rest of her garments and his vest on the floor. She gasped, a sudden sensation of vulnerability as Aesop saw her chest in all its glory, her peaks hardening against the sudden air that kissed them in a welcoming embrace. Before she could cover herself, Aesop tenderly grabbed her wrists, holding them in his much larger hands, his eyes never leaving hers – warm and comforting.

"You are exquisite," he whispered, pulling her close. His larger body enveloped hers, her peaks chafing against the cotton with delicious friction before he kissed her fervently again, his hands roaming across her body as hers found his waist.

Though his body had significantly changed ever since he had left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Aesop remained lean and well-muscled, his shoulders still broad and strong – the assertive air around him never leaving. She could feel it between her fingertips, his shirt leaving little to the imagination as it clung to his body like a second skin.

She gasped into him when his hands suddenly touched her breasts, his hands fondling, fondling them gently, effortlessly cupping them in his large hands. Two fingers slowly swirled around her hardened peaks, teasing her with a gentle, loving caress, swallowing her soft moans as he put forth all his longing and desire into the kiss. Against his mouth, Aesop could feel her soft whining; his manhood twitching as desire unlike he's ever felt before rushing through him.

"Get on the bed," Aesop growled lowly, eyes half-lidded in eros. She pulled away shakily, her eyes trained on him as he guided her towards the bed, letting herself lower down on the mattress when the back of her knees met the edge. Aesop stepped closer, looking down at her with an untamed gaze that sent shivers of craving and a newfound feeling she couldn't describe through her body. His fingers trailed below her chin, tilting it up slightly as he took her in. He felt like a young gentleman again, brimming with ferocious, carnal appetite when he had scarcely even touched her yet. Merlin knew he needed to be gentle – her inexperience and what Aesop suspected was a grand dearth of knowledge were bound to make this…interesting enough.

"And you are entirely certain you want this?" his voice unrecognisable.

"Yes," she whimpered, her nerves alight. For so long, it had been ingrained into her that she was not to lay with a man unless he was her husband, her very existence at Hogwarts having brought shame upon her family. And yet, as Aesop's presence enveloped her, she could not deny herself the sheer wanting and craving with the lasciviousness the moment brought.

He moved to his knees, his leg thrumming as he unhurriedly removed her bloomers, the tips of his fingers grazing her sides before she was as naked as the day she was born. The blaze of arousal that ran through him was as intense as the sun, and he has to remind himself like a chant that this is a first for her. He has to be gentle.

"Lay back," Aesop rasped out, rising to his feet again to remove his boots before he joined her on the bed, leaning over her with one arm supporting his upper body.

His eyes bore into hers as he slowly let his hand trail a sweet caress down her body. His touch was feather-light, the tips of his fingers scantily making contact with her heated skin, but it was enough to perceive the goosebumps that littered it. Her mouth was slightly open, though her eyes were wide - filled with anticipation, wonder and the lingering fear of the unknown.

His hand travelled lower, perhaps slightly clumsily, until it finally reached her hip and then the apex of her thighs. Her breath sped up slightly, but her eyes held onto his and Aesop revelled in the trust she was giving him. She had offered herself on a silver plate, and he would not stop until he had devoured her whole.

Ever so slowly, he manoeuvred her legs open, settling himself between them before his hand travelled lower and finally reached the place he wanted to absolutely wreck.

Aesop felt the small wet tuft, his touch teasing as he carefully slid his finger up and down her slit.

"Oh," she gasped, surprised, her breath speeding up as her thighs clenched around him.

"So responsive," Aesop chuckled lowly, "and I have barely even touched you."

She only whined when his touch became bolder, his middle finger pressing down on her womanhood as his thumb searched for her clit. If he wanted to fuck her - if she wanted him to take her, he would need to prepare her in every way conceivable.

"Is this good?" he breathed out, his eyes still not leaving hers as he leant down, peppering her face in soft and gentle kisses. His fingers, at last, found her little nub – small and hard, peeking out like a treasured secret, his thumb simply pressing down on, whilst his middle finger caressed up and down, and she gasped out, her back rising from the bed.

"Yes," she finally found her words and nodded meekly. "I - Ah!"

Aesop chuckled as he pressed down harder, slowly drawing precise circles on her clit as her womanhood gradually became more and more damp beneath his ministrations. He littered small kisses along her cheeks and jaw – barely tangible – as she whined and squirmed underneath him, her breath reduced to erratic pants that only fuelled his own arousal. His breeches were confining, but witnessing her descent into bliss was nothing if not a blessing. This was his personal Eden - Aesop was sure of it.

He could feel her hole, tight and searing and oh so enticing, as his index finger joined his middle finger and touched her with newfound vigour. His thumb increased the pressure on her clit, and she keened.

"Aesop!"

"Yes?" he mumbled, his mouth on her throat, suckling tiny precious bruises all over. He could feel her heartbeat when his lips trailed her jugular vein, and it beat in the rhythm of his own. Her whining and squirming made him growl, but he would have been lying if it didn't excite him all the same.

"I- Ah!"

"Use your words, my sweet girl," Aesop drew back, his eyes finding her face again – her eyes shut in unadulterated bliss.

"Look at me," he bade her, "I want you to look at me when I make you come. When you unravel on my fingers."

Obediently she obliged, her frantic eyes finding his as she let out desperate pants and arched up into him.

"Please," she begged him.

"Please, what?" He teased her with a wolfish grin.

"More."

She felt so utterly overwhelmed and treasured as he made her feel things she had never felt before. Aesop was all-consuming, and she lost herself in the pleasure he gave her. Pleasure she had never thought would even exist.

Between her legs, Aesop let his middle finger wander closer to her heat, pressing deeper as he went, feeling her wetness seeping out of her. Ever so carefully, almost curiously, he inserted his finger, coaxing a kittenish trill from her.

"Oh, oh," she squirmed under him, the sensation foreign and not entirely pleasant. His finger was easily the size of two of hers, a burning feeling accompanying its breaching entrance.

"Shh," he shushed her, littering kisses over her face once more. "I have to, my love. I have to. Just... let me feel you."

A soothing exhale let her refocus on the circles he drew on her clit and the pleasure shooting through her. His movements were meticulous, calculated and more pleasing than anything she had ever tried on herself.

Against his own thighs, Aesop could feel hers tensing and flexing, and he gave her a moment's reprieve before he could sense her settling, and he steadily began moving his finger in and out. She was tight, expectedly so, which only meant he would have to put in a substantial amount of work if she were to take him. To divert her attention further, he descended his head until his mouth found her erect nipples, enveloping one as she flexed into him.

"Aesop," she moaned lowly. He hummed in response – the vibrations a delightful sensation.

Though her hut had been comfortably warm before, it felt like it was positively ablaze now, the heat flickering away at her exposed skin, arousal running through her like a Graphorn untamed. The hand that had previously held him up now moved downwards, cupping her other breast, caressing it with teasing strokes that drove her mad.

"So tight," Aesop mumbled against her breast, his finger still dragging through her heat gently and slowly. "My perfect girl. So tight and warm..."

Her breathing quickened – chest rising against Aesop's face, his beard prickly against her delicate skin. Moans escaped her mouth; his thumb steadily increased its pressure on her as he worked her open. Delicately, he slipped in a second finger, pausing as she tensed up and before her tight and warm body opened up to him, welcoming his fingers as she groaned in rhapsody.

"Aesop..."

She trembled, overwhelmed by the very emotion and intimacy of the moment, a warm heat gathering in her lower abdomen as his motions slowly sped up, the delicious pressure of his fingers on her nub bringing her closer to the edge of delirium.

"That's it," Aesop mumbled against her, slowly rising up to look at her face. "That's it, my love."

Fervently, Aesop placed his lips upon hers again, consuming her cries of bliss as her body arched into his, her nipples brushing against the cotton of his blouse. One of her hands travelled from her sides to his waist whilst the other found his hair tangling itself in it as his movements quickened. Expertly, Aesop curled his two fingers inside her, uncovering the bundle of pleasure that made her keen under him. She broke the kiss, turning her head to the side as she moaned vociferously – panting as she got closer and closer to ecstasy.

"Aesop, I –" she gasped, looking right into her lover's eyes, her pupils blown and cheeks rosy the closer he brought her to completion.

"I've got you," he promised lowly, speeding up his movements as he felt her womanhood tighten up around his fingers. "Let go, my love. I've got you."

She felt like she was burning. From the way his fingers felt on her – in her – making her sweat and drip on the sheets as she writhed beneath him, the heat burning from between her legs before it spread in every little part of her body – an all-consuming inferno.

"I – Ah!"

"That's it, my love," Aesop cooed, curling his fingers against her spot, watching as she unravelled beneath him. Her eyes clenched, her hips wriggled underneath him, canting upwards – as she chased the foreign sensation that built up inside of her. Aesop fondled her clit a little faster, flicking it with animalistic precision as his fingers mercilessly assailed that tenderly sweet spot inside of her; before long, her womanhood clenched violently, and her first orgasm swept over her. Aesop watched, enthralled and utterly bewitched, as she cried out in pleasure, her thighs clenching around his hips and her tiny hands tightening, finding his shoulders and digging into them.

"Oh! Aesop!"

He could only groan, his manhood twitching at the thought of finally settling himself inside her tight, dripping warmth. Aesop continued to move his fingers – in, out – the movement lazy, helping her ride out the crashing waves of her orgasm before her tremble ceased and her moans shifted into paltry whines. He retracted his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he sucked on them like a man starved, tasting her ambrosial wetness. She tasted like she smelled – saccharinely sweet like honey, entirely addicting. When he opened his eyes once more, he found his love staring at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her hair spread around her head like a glowing halo. She was sweaty, her chest still heaving against the swelting heat of the hut – Aesop could feel his eyes darken in desire.

His lips met hers with another bruising kiss, his prickly beard scratching against her delicate skin. She could taste the remnants of herself on him – an odd taste if one were to ask her – but she was left utterly breathless from the sheer overwhelming intensity of emotions surging through her, her very soul intertwining with his. To love someone as deeply as she loved Aesop had been one thing, but to feel the love reciprocated and returned tenfold was another dizzying reality entirely.

"I love you," Aesop breathed out. "Fuck – I love you."

"Aesop," her eyes widened, though her heart overfilled with love at his proclamation, and her eyes filled with tears. "I love you too."

He smiled at her – how could he not? Whenever did he get this lucky?! Perhaps he had saved a nation once – there was no perspicuous reason for this love otherwise.

His hands found her sides again, feeling her curves with a reverent worshipping touch, relishing the soft skin of her much smaller body beneath the callouses of his fingers. She shivered lightly, keeping her eyes trained on his. No matter the trepidation coursing through her veins, she was safe and cared for in Aesop's arms and beneath his much larger body – enveloping her as the world around blurred outside her focus. With quivering hands, she reached out to his waist, pulling at his shirt with a subtle whine.

Aesop chuckled lowly, pulling his shirt from his breeches before he allowed her to help him pull his blouse over his head as it promptly joined the rest of their garments on the floor. His love glanced at him, a demure gaze as she followed the lines of his scars littering his torso, though most of them were hidden by the ample amount of hair that covered it.

"And you say I'm exquisite," she whispered bashfully.

Carefully, she reached out to the largest one by his ribs, following the line with the ghost of a touch into the thick fur in the middle of his chest. Her fingertips danced over his pectorals, causing Aesop to release a shuddering breath before he leaned down again to find her lips. Her hands pawed at him hungrily, almost boldly, as he devoured her lips in a searingly hot kiss.

"May I try something?" he asked breathlessly.

"I trust you."

A wolfish grin spread across his face, sending a jolt of desire down her spine, unsure of what to expect. For one last second, he drank in her gaze upon his body, watching as she took in his broad shoulders and tapered waist before he bent down again, pressing kisses along her neck and collarbones, his hot breath fanning against her bosom.

"It'll be good, I promise," he mumbled, grin still on his face as he attended to her erect nipples with two kittenish licks before he went lower. His beard scratched against her belly, the delicious friction sure to leave a slight burn on her the following day, but her eyes widened again when he went even lower.

"Stop thinking," Aesop muttered, feeling her tensing lightly beneath him as he kissed down her torso. "Just let yourself feel."

He ceased again for just a second when his lips reached her lower stomach – a moment to relish her sweet scent with blissfully closed eyes. Lovingly, tenderly, he pressed a kiss down right where her womb would be – a silent prayer, a wish, sent up to whichever God had sent her his way to ensure this would be fruitful. He knew his love was utterly magical, but this secret place of hers was capable of creating wonders he yearned for – possessively, wholly and greedy in ways he hadn't known.

"A-Aesop, what are you –?" she asked with a stutter when he went even lower, spreading her legs further, placing himself between them as he held them in his arms.

"Push me away if you wish for me to stop, my love," a grin still on his face as he lowered his body to level with her womanhood. He gazed at her – right at the place he was hoping to ravage – whimpering with desire. He wasn't sure if he had ever expected anything, but if he did, it exceeded his expectations, for she looked oh so beautiful and alluring. Unable to stop himself, he bent down, brushing his nose up and down her mound, his beard leaving a deliciously sweet burn against the skin of her thighs as she started to shake and gasp in his hold. She smelled even better than he had dreamed, and without forewarning, his lips closed around her nub and sucked.

Aesop was silently thankful her hut was nearly off grounds; the absolute wail of pleasure she let out would've been heard by the entire castle otherwise. Her hips canted upwards, her legs sealing around him, and her arms flailing around until they found Aesop's hair. She didn't push him away, but her grasp was tight, holding onto him like he was her lifeline.

"Aesop!"

He hummed lowly in response, his eyes closed at the delectable taste, pulling and suckling at her most sensitive part.

"Aesop it – Ah! 's too much I – "

Her hips moved desperately beneath him – up, down; left, right – wriggling; trying to elude his succour and moving closer simultaneously. Determined to make her stay, Aesop wrapped one of his arms around her hip, pressing her down into the mattress as the other held open her legs. There was not a single thing on earth that could have impeded Aesop's ministrations, her yelps and incoherent pleas falling on deaf ears as his tongue swirled around her clit, pressing circles into her. He desperately osculated her ambrosial wetness – wanting, craving, needing her to come undone once more, his grip on her tightening.

"'sop – Please, I – Ah!"

His name fell from her lips like a reverent prayer, her upper body thrashing around and her breath uneven as she gulped in the air between her cries of pleasure. Her quim was positively dripping – her fluids spreading against her thighs and onto the sheets of her bed. Aesop's own groans of desire sunk into her, breathing in heavy pants as he devoured her whole. His fingers found her hole again, this time easily inserting two as her womanhood clenched periodically around them. The bed jerked with her movements, the wooden frame clattering against the stone walls as the room continued to heat up.

"I – Oh, Merlin – I... Ahhh!"

Aesop chuckled, his fingers curling and hitting the same precious spot over and over again. She tasted so sweet; her womanhood frail and warm against his tongue as he lapped at her rapaciously.

"Good girl," he rasped out somewhere in between. "Doing so well for me."

Her spluttering cries filled him with wicked pride as her head thrashed against the pillows – him holding down the rest of her, leaving her entirely at his mercy – unable to do anything but take what he gave her. It was riveting to know he would be the first man to bed her, that he was the first to introduce her to the endless fields of pleasure, as much as it thrilled Aesop to know he would also be her last. His fingers dallied their movements, his tongue ceasing its assault in place of kittenish licks, wishing to draw out her ecstasy before he decided to enter a third finger. Her eyes scrunched up with the discomfort she was suddenly feeling, his tongue scarcely enough to make it decently pleasing.

"Aesop," she groaned lowly, pushing her hip into her mattress in a futile attempt to escape him – his iron grip did not relent. "It's too much."

"Shh..." he soothed her, his fingers moving in and out, curling inside her, opening her and making her all the more pliant for him. "Shh... there you go, my love. You can take it."

His arm held her hips pertinaciously as his fingers worked deeper inside with each thrust – a little further each time they moved. She yelped, pleasure and pain intermingling when his tongue curled around her bundle of nerves, holding the highly sensitised part of her on the unforgiving, warm cushion of his own flesh before he sucked, the violent waves of ecstasy creeping up on her once more. Her wetness seeped out of her, dripping down the knuckles of his fingers, dirtying her thighs and the sheets below. The sounds he drew from her were utterly obscene, filling the air, which likely reeked of their activities, and he wasn't even close to being done with her. Her thighs trembled under his hold, her upper body thrashing around.

She wished for it to stop, yet she prayed this would never end.

"Aesop...Aesop... Merlin, I – Oh, OH."

"It's alright," Aesop mumbled. "You're doing so good for me. My perfect girl."

Her second orgasm collided with her very soul – violently, fiercely, drowning her in the waves of ecstasy as the world around her shifted into a blinding white, turning her blissfully boneless. Her cries echoed in her hut, bouncing off the walls like sweet singing. Aesop groaned, his being awash with desire as his stiff manhood strained against his breeches – so much that it almost hurt. His fingers moved lazily, a few languid strokes helping her through the aftershocks of her peak, heat consuming her as she lay sapless beneath him. Aesop hastily unbuckled his breeches, pushing them down along with his underpants, letting his sizable erection spring free though his gaze did not wander from her.

His love looked downright sinful.

She swallowed in greedy, deep breaths, her chest heaving as the electrifying feeling of her ecstasy continued to tingle through her, the world still spinning – she hardly even realised that Aesop was now naked too. Some hair clung to the nape of her neck, the rest fanned out around her as beads of sweat covered her lithe little body. It was as if she glowed from within – Aesop was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful.

He slowly made his way back up to her, his arms on either side of her body, holding him up and relieving most of the pressure from his leg, though it barely hurt as it stood. His eyes didn't leave hers, though they were still hazy in the afterglow. Aesop's hand lovingly caressed her face, pushing back a stray hair or two, waiting until her eyes found his again. His shaft twitched anxiously, resting between her body and his – warm and soft and waiting.

When she glimpsed at him – her eyes truly finding his – her eyes widened at the sight of him. Aesop hair was dishevelled, the hairline littered with beads of sweat as his dark eyes feasted upon her state. He was the very picture of depravity – his face drenched in her release from his nose to his lips, clinging to his stubble. She blushed fiercely at the view above her, almost averting her gaze had his fingers not caressed her cheeks. For the first time, she could feel the weight of his manhood against her stomach, the naked skin of his large body enveloping hers, but she didn't dare look down. It felt massive, though a large man like Aesop would likely be rather well...endowed. Dread filled her at the thought of him actually entering her, her breath picking up again – unable to hide the nature of her feelings.

Aesop's sweet and gentle caress steered her focus back to him, his smile just as soft.

"I will be as gentle as I can," he promised, his voice low and placating. "It will hurt for a second, and if you need me to stop, you can tell me."

He was so honest, so loving – so gentle and kind; her Aesop – that she could only nod, allowing his lips to fall upon hers as he shifted between her legs. She tried to remember what her mother had told her about the marital act – that she would simply need to endure – but it did little to subdue the tension she felt when she could feel him pressing against her folds. A pitiful whine escaped her lips, and she desperately tried to focus on anything else.

"I've got you," Aesop gentled her, his eyes now looking down between their bodies. He was unable to see much, but his heart thumped erratically at the sight of his manhood, hard and pulsating with need, right at her entrance. It had been a while for him, too; most carnal encounters after Scarborough were merely transactional (if at all), and Aesop wasn't sure if he had ever felt desire and need as intensely as he had at this moment.

"I've got you," he reiterated quietly, frowning a little as he eased the tip of him inside. She gasped for a second before holding her breath altogether, clenching her eyes shut upon feeling pure pressure.

"There you go, my love," he whispered against her ear, curling his large body over hers, trying to hold himself back as he felt the tip of his manhood enveloped by the tight heat of her – entering her with a torturously slow pace.

"I love you. You're doing so well, my love… So well. My good girl."

Light kisses and a gentle caress kept her with her, her contorted face strained as Aesop gently and slowly worked himself into her – he hated that this even needed to be unpleasant in the first place. Another gasp escaped her abruptly, deep and greedy breaths filling her lungs with the parching air surrounding them. Her sweaty chest stuck to his, her erect buds teased by the hair on his chest. The symphony of sensations was wholly overwhelming as she struggled to contain both him and herself.

Pressure. Agony. Desire. Want. Aesop – inside her.

Aesop let himself rest, her womanhood pulsating around him as it struggled to contain what little of his length he had inserted. Her small, near inaudible whimpers tore at his heartstrings – enough to distract his mind off the perfectly mindblowing sensation of feeling enveloped by her, his entire being aching with need as she leaked around him and he around her – easing the tight passage with their bodies aflame and hearts beating as one.

"Breathe, my love," Aesop cooed, his hand caressing the sides of her body in gentle strokes as he tried to ease more of himself inside of her, unable to stop a slight moan from escaping his lips.

"Aaaahh – " she grit out between her teeth, feeling overwhelmingly full. It was too big – feeling like it was tearing her apart at the seams, and she felt utterly pathetic beneath him. However, was she meant to fit that?

"Aesop!"

"Look at me," Aesop whispered, his breath mere inches away from her face. "Come, my love. Look at me. I've got you, okay?"

Whimpering, she opened her eyes, the caramel warmth of Aesop's finding hers as he was brimming with overwhelming love and adoration – enough to bring down an entire army. He gently placed a kiss upon her forehead as his hand moved lower again, resolved to make this pleasurable for her. If it had simply been about his own pleasure, he would have come undone within but a second.

"Try to relax, my love," he gentled, his hand finding her hardened nub again, smirking when she moaned in bliss as he gently put pressure on it, drawing light circles and cajoling more wetness from the depths of her core. She was feverishly warm, enveloping him with a vice grip – soft, warm, dripping the further he went. The arm holding him above her was tense, straining with the effort to keep him upright when she felt so good around him as he moaned himself with the warmth surrounding him. Slowly, gently, he eased more of himself inside, pressing his hips forward as his manhood fought against the tight clenches of her channel. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears – but they did not leave his.

"Ahh – Aesop!"

"That's it, my love. My beautiful girl...I love you," he gentled. "You are doing so well. So very well for me."

"I…I…"

"What is it, my love?" he asked, his hip pressing forward another excruciating inch, their bodies aching for the other as he leaked around her the way she did around him – easing the passage and helping her stretch against him. Her breathing was erratic, her cheeks glaringly red as pleasure and pain intermingled once more. "What do you feel?"

"It..mhm..." A tender moan spilt from her, her womanhood slowly loosening around him. "–sop."

"Yes, my love?" He whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth as he felt her shivering beneath him. He rubbed her clitoris with messy and soft strokes, relishing her low moans as her eyes fluttered shut – this time in pleasure. Aesop could not help the small smile that placed itself upon his lips, for she was breathtaking. Another inch pressed into her, the discomfort returning and a choked little sob spilling from her plush lips – a stray tear spilling from her eye.

"Do you wish for me to stop?" Aesop asked her gently, halting all his movements as he awaited her answer. She did not answer him, though she shook her head furiously from side to side.

"Look at me," he bade her again, his hand cupping her face as he gentled her with a soothing touch. "You do not have to endure if you cannot."

Her teary eyes met his as she gulped before another sharp intake of breath filled her lungs. "I don't want you to stop," she whimpered miserably. "Please just..." she bit her lip, her gaze averting in shame.

"Please, what, my love?" he asked. "You can tell me anything. You need to tell me if you want this."

"What you've been doing with your fingers..." she gulped. "I want…I need…"

"Do you need me to…" he slowly pressed his fingers on her clitoris again – a little more pressure than before – his voice fading as she gasped and arched into him.

"Yes…" she sighed contently, the furrow of her brow decreasing, and her eyes closed again. "A–Ae–Aesop," she shakily moaned, her hips canting upwards to meet his.

His self-control was admirable, the strain on his own body and mind evident by the strain in his arm and his own panting breaths. Her womanhood parted for him, the tight muscle easing as she relaxed into his touch – clenching hard then parting like a greedy mouth. His shaft was leaking a trail inside her with each small push forward – she did not believe he could go any further, for it already felt like he was beyond anywhere he should be. Before long, Aesop pushed forward one more time – burying himself with one long and stubborn thrust, reaching all the way inside her.

She wailed and burst into tears at the sensation, Aesop's own head dropping between the valley of her breasts as he groaned deeply at the sheer feeling.

"Aesop!"

"Fuck," he groaned lowly, the hand next to her head gripping the sheets – his hand surely turning white with force. He had stilled inside her, allowing both him and her to adjust to the foreign feeling. Her chest was rising violently, pushing against his as he fully enveloped her beneath him.

"A-Aesop," she whimpered, a twinging pain still lingering in her lower body, her legs sapless on either side of him. "It - ah…hurts."

"I know, my love," Aesop breathed out, his eyes clenched in focus. "You're so – ah...tight."

His hands found her sides again, tracing delicate patterns across her heated skin – all whilst he lingered inside her; unmoving. Slowly, but surely, he felt her settle, her breath evening out and her core loosening. The pain that had pierced her and lingered in her womanhood slowly dwindled away, leaving nothing but a sensation of overwhelming fullness in its wake. His weight upon hers felt strangely comforting, a familiar feeling among the symphony of vast and earth-shattering novelties. Aesop was scalding against her, his broad and heavy and burly body encasing her protectively – shielding her from the world around her, though if she had to describe her world now, there would only be Aesop anyway. She said nothing – much like he did – allowing his panting breath to fan over her bosom as her tears dried. Her fingers, as she now began to realise, had pressed into his sides, leaving red marks on his tough skin.

"Oh," she whispered as she loosened her tight grip.

"Hm?" Aesop mumbled, the vibrations hitting her bosom. "What is it, my love?"

Her voice was trembling and quiet when she answered him – plagued by the shame of what she had done. "I fear I might have hurt you..."

She could feel Aesop's chest rumbling with a low chuckle, the action sparking…something unknown between the folds of her quim before he rose to meet her eyes again, a lopsided smirk on his flushed face.

"My love," he mumbled, a stray hair pushed from her tear-streaked face. "My beautiful, beautiful love...You have cried, certainly not from ecstasy this time, and you worry about me?" Another low chuckle vibrated through them. "Fear not – you haven't hurt me. I have endured far worse."

He watched as she bit her lip, evading his piercing gaze in shame, more tears gathering in her eyes.

"None of that," Aesop chided lovingly, pushing her face to meet his, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "You're doing so well for me," he whispered, eyes closed in bliss as he felt her walls pulsate around him. He embraced her lips in a loving kiss once more, their tongues mingling as he continued to lead her. "How do you feel?"

"Full," she whimpered lowly. "So… ah – full, Aesop."

A deep groan left his lips upon her admission. Call it male pride or call it unnaturally developed self-conceit, but Aesop could not help the blaze of arousal that burst through him at her admittance. He knew he was charitably blessed, more so than most men – not that she had any way of knowing – but his love took him perfectly, doing so well for him – only him.

"Fuck," he rasped out, straining above her as her warm heat continued to envelop him in a vice grip.

She looked entrancing beneath him, eyes shut, with bitten lips – her chest rising against his, body flushed beautifully as it lay against the pillows. And she was all his. Eternally and entirely his.

"You are doing so well," he praised her in a low tone once more, his hands tracing placating patterns on her skin as they descended towards her hips. He could feel her tension under his fingers, her body shivering – so far removed from the ecstatic state she had been in before.

"Do you trust me?" Aesop whispered, almost inaudible.

"Yes." Her voice was squeaky, and she did not open her eyes, but the word spilt from her lips with no hesitation – and that was enough for Aesop.

He firmly took hold of her hips, angling himself above her – rubbing comforting circles into her hips. Gently, he eased a few inches out, her quim clinging to him before he eased himself back inside with the same familiar gentleness. A breathless gasp escaped her, her eyes opening to meet his as he meticulously took in her body's every response, his eyes hazy with desire and wanting – it sent a shiver down her spine. It was a peculiar feeling, entirely recondite but not unpleasant altogether. Each slow thrust which met her allowed his pubic bone to grace her clit with delicious friction, his manhood gradually opening her up with every thrust – battering away any clenching as her womanhood took him. Her arms were wrapped around his torso; fingers pressed into the blades of his shoulders as Aesop rhythmically moved, a little more each and every time.

She watched as his head dropped between his shoulders, a deep groan escaping him as her warmth circled him. Merlin, Aesop could truly not recall ever feeling even close to this – She was so tight for him, so warm, and so delicate beneath him that it took every atom of his being not to rush himself into climax; he felt like a dratted schoolboy again. Thank Merlin, he was adept at concocting Bruisewort Balm as he knew with absolute certainty that his grip on her hips would leave bruises.

His grinding movements gradually turned pleasant – no longer pressurising.

"Aesop," she groaned, her tone entreating. "I – ah…"

"You feel so perfect, my love," he groaned, allowing his face to move downwards so his mouth could envelop one of her hardened peaks once more, his tongue swirling around despairingly, his hair tickling against her heated skin. "– Doing so well for me. Taking me so perfectly."

He could feel her womanhood dampening around him, easing his motions further – a dark chuckle escaped him.

"You like that, my love? Being told that you're my good – ah," Aesop grunted as he ground his pelvis deeper, her lower body pushed into the mattress. "– my good, good, girl? All for me?"

"Yes," she sighed contently, her eyes closing in bliss.

He cooed against her breasts, deep, breathless, his grinding slowly turning into gentle thrusts – still careful not to hurt her. The hands he held on her hips relaxed, one moving lower to angle her hips differently as he moved his own. Each thrust inwards left her closer to being utterly sapless, unable to do anything but take what he gave, his generous length and girth aiming to brush against the soft spot above her entrance that made her way to wail out in pleasure.

Aesop's head shot up in astonishment when her womanhood tightened around him violently, her rear and head rising from where she lay as she wailed.

"Aesop! Oh…Oh!"

His length brushed against her spot mercilessly, teasing her deliciously when she was very much sated from the two peaks of ecstasy before – the sensation both aching and sending her closer to delirium.

"There you go," Aesop rasped, his shallow thrusts gaining momentum. "Is that good?" he asked, groaning, teasingly pushing his length to deliberately beat away at that tender spot.

"Yes!" his love cried out beneath him, scarcely believing the sheer pleasure she was suddenly feeling – never having felt such an intense cacophony of feelings aimed at her before. With a growl through clenched teeth, Aesop moved his hands to her breasts, fondling them tenderly as he rose up to look down upon the ethereal form of his beloved. The guttural moan he released when he took in the very picture of sin beneath him shook him to his core, the familiar sensation of his impending peak quelling in his lower region. He had to slow down, fearing he would finish before she did, though he could feel her peak approaching.

She looked like a sacred piece of art – sweaty, moaning, and blissfully boneless, her hair spread out like a halo, cheeks flushed, and eyes closed – his own groans of pleasure hastening her voracity.

"You're doing so well for me," Aesop groaned. "So fucking well. All for me. My beautiful girl."

"Yes!" she chanted affirmatively. "All for you."

His thrusts were slow, tempered - reaching parts of her she never thought anyone would reach. His hips canted against her, pushing her further into the mattress, pressing deep, so very deep, into her, the tip of his manhood pressing against her cervix with the sheer force of his thrusts, her womanhood stretched open. She was utterly vulnerable – her legs shook with the intensity of emotions coursing through her, shaking her to her very soul.

"Fuck," Aesop hissed hotly. "I love you. I love you so much. My good – ah, girl. Doing so well for me. My lovely woman… So warm, so… ah....good."

"Aesop!" she cried out, her grip on his shoulders tightening as the familiar coil of eros bubbled beneath her skin again, the flames of desire licking their way up from her womanhood and spreading through her body mercilessly. "I – oh god. I –"

"I've got you," Aesop rasped reassuringly, his touch a temperate anchor in the endless sea of ardour she was drowning in. She cried out once more, a stray tear spilling from the corner of her eye, which Aesop gently wiped from her cheek before he reached down and pressed a soft kiss into the crown of her hair.

"I've got you," he promised once more with a sweet sigh, "You're ah – doing so well for me. I love you so much. Ah – taking me so well. Fuck – I'm so...so proud of you… It's alright... let go for me."

She felt his soft, groping hand, helplessly desirous touching along her body and face, caressing her softly - oh so softly – with infinite soothing and assurance. It was so much and never enough, the staccato building and building confronting her with the innermost parts of herself. Never had she felt so acutely the agony of her own forlornness, yet embraced in Aesop's arms, she knew she would never feel forlorn again. She was his, and he was hers. She had reached the peak twice before that night, but this was so greatly different that she wondered if she had truly reached it after all. He was turgid and quivering inside her, the strange thrills rippling through her like burning embers – dashing to points of brilliant exquisiteness. She lay near unconscious of the frenzied cries she emitted, unaware of his gaze upon her trembling body as she was consumed entirely. She clung to him in her burning passion, his rhythms flushing up into her, filling her entire, cleaving consciousness until she was nothing but a burning flame.

Aesop nearly came apart at the sight and feeling of her, the sight celestial, but he craved, needed, more.

"Fuck," he groaned. Though his movements slowed, they did not cease altogether, his eyes closing in bliss as his thick manhood scraped against her tender, clenching walls. His thrusts were gentle as he helped her through the throes of her peak, lidded eyes, observing her every tremble. When his love came to, noting his continued movements, her eyes shot open, their hazy gaze blurry.

Stuttering, his name left her lips, the burning molten between her legs never ceasing. "A-A-Aesop."

He continued to rock inside; out. It was a moment of pure peace for Aesop, the entry into the body of her so very pleasurable – his hips meeting hers. Her legs tensed, and her womb clenched, unsure if it was pleasure or pain this time around. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the hut, the room hot and humid amidst their moans and groans and her cries.

"Aesop 's too much," her speech slurred, struggling to keep her eyes on his.

"You are doing so well," he grunted, adjusting the grip he held on her, snapping his hips up violently, his antecedent restraint and control dwindling. His arms circled her, Aesop's body on hers, his wet body touching hers, so close. "You can give me one more."

His thrusts pushed the literal air from her lungs, gasps and moans spilling from her bitten lips – his name sometimes in between like a prayer. Aesop's hands caressed down her sides until he bent forward, lifting her kneed to wrap her leg around his waist, holding it there – the new angle leaving her vulnerably open. Their eyes met one another – hazy with lust and wanting and need and earth-shattering love and devotion simmering below the surface.

"I love you," the young woman sobbed out, his manhood hitting the deepest parts of her, the tip of it pressing against the entry to her womb. Her back arched into him, his scalding chest resting over hers, rough hairs chafing against her tight and tender nipples. She loved him beyond anything - adored him till her knees were weak as she walked and her heart could no longer survive without him. He was her air, her warmth, her very reason for being.

Something gave way, and the potions master above her precipitously, violently, thrust his hips into hers, held up only by his bruising grip as the remains of her lay sapless beneath him. Aesop slid his hands down her body, his callouses leaving goosebumps in their wake as he caressed her soft stomach before his fingers found her erect clit above her entrance. Her wails were the sweetest song Aesop had ever heard, the vicious grip on his shoulders sure to leave imprints for days to come.

"I love you too – fuck," Aesop hissed, allowing himself to close his eyes as he battered away, his movements forceful and erratic. His mind filled with the reason they were engaging in the first place – a vivid image conjured in his mind of her swollen and rounded body.

"You will look so beautiful," he murmured breathlessly. "So stunningly beautiful. Whole with my children – ah, fuck."

Her womanhood clenched, flowing and alive and vulnerable as the image filled her too – helpless with adoration of him and what she wanted him to do – before it opened, ready to be filled with new life all for him – with him.

Both her and his yearning adoration for one another was fearful, leaving them helpless in each other's embrace and so different from what had been their relationship – a new dawn blooming. It was sinking into them as his manhood sunk into her, deep into their being to the centre of all creation. Aesop had not known yearning like this – possibly even feared it his entire life, lest if he adored too much, he would be vulnerable; a slave to his emotions which he certainly had never wished to be. Yet as he moved into her, enveloped tightly and loved, he would no longer fight it. It was so fathomless, so soft, so deep and so unknown – yet he surrendered, just as she had.

"Aesop!" she cried out.

"Your womb will be full with me," Aesop groaned nonsensically. "So filled with life that everyone shall see."

Her hips canted upwards to meet his thrusts, his finger pressing wildly into her bud as ecstasy drew near – for both of them. Her wails of pleasure filled the room around them, his lowly groans swirling between. Her legs had wrapped around his hips, holding him close in her vices, and her womanhood felt perfectly satisfied – the female inside her never more loved and cared for than it had been in this very moment. His phallus was forcing her to take every sensation, and she no longer felt ashamed to want it all.

"Take it," Aesop growled. "Take my seed, and I shall ensure you will be a mother."

"Yes, yes, please, I – " she begged through pleasured sobs, wishing he would finally fill her. The yearning with which she realised the difference between wanting a child and wanting his was discordant, even if it seemed ordinary enough. But to be filled with Aesop's child, and his alone, made her feel like a woman reborn.

One final, forceful thrust before Aesop's lips fell upon hers, his ecstasy intermingling with hers, their souls intertwining as Aesop swelled and swelled, pushing his seed inside her – pure deepening whirlpools of sensation swirling through them until they were one perfect concentric fluid of feeling, his life springing into her.

They gasped into each other as the waves of pleasure ebbed through them, laying utterly still as they knew nothing but each other and warmth. Carefully, Aesop wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and turned them onto their sides, limbs entangled and his manhood still resting deep inside her, not allowing a single drop of his seed to spill. Their eyes were closed blissfully, her head nestled into his chest with his arms encasing her protectively. It was done – she had chosen him, and he had chosen her, his duty now forever protecting and shielding the woman in his arms, a duty he would fill with all his honour. A duty, which, in due time, would be extended to life growing inside her – a life Aesop was looking forward to protecting with all he had.

"I love you," Aesop mumbled into the crown of her hair. "I love you most ardently. You are an incomparable gift, my love."

He felt her tears before he saw them, undue panic rising in his chest as he bade her to look at him. He held her cheek against his hand, warm and flushed after their proclivities.

"What is it, my love?" he asked in hushed tones. "Have I hurt you?"

"No," she shook her head. "No, you have not I –"

"Then please tell me what –"

"Nothing," she sobbed, a shy smile on her face as she burrowed herself into his hand. "I could have never thought these relations to be so... liberating."

"…liberating?" Aesop asked after a breath of silence. He did not understand.

"Yes," she nodded into his hand, before she smiled up at him. "My mother had told me that...when it happens, I should lie back and think of England. That I would have to endure until my husband had his heir. She did not mention that it could be… that it would be a mere hitch of pain before an endless field of pleasure."

His heart both shattered and thumped upon hearing her admission, his strokes against her back so soft and gentle, barely discernable if her wet and battered body was not as sensitive as it had been.

"You let me bed you thinking it would be something to endure?" he inquired, praying that he had heard – understood – wrong.

"Yes," she replied with no hesitation in her voice. "If it meant that you would father my children – our children – I would have endured a thousand times over. But…this?" Her cheeks glowed in the aftermath, unable to speak of their activities even after what had transpired. "This was nothing to endure."

"And you never have to endure it," Aesop resolutely told her, pressing a chaste kiss upon her lips. "I will not stand for it. This was your choice and yours alone. And should you ever –"

"Shhh," she gently interrupted him with a smile upon her lips. "I do not know what it felt like to you but to me? I do not believe a woman could ever be…happier. Or more loved."

Aesop returned her smile tiredly – relieved and triumphantly proud. "I do not believe a man could ever find more happiness either."

For the longest time, Aesop Sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. But as his beloved lay in his arms, falling asleep, burrowed safely in his chest away from the world, having chosen him as he had chosen her, he truly could allow himself to dream of forever.

Aesop Sharp now knew that reprieve was possible – even for someone like him, the living proof of it in his strong arms.

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sharpfamily · 4 months

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Aesop On the Job

How will a former Auror and former professor Aesop Sharp fare, when faced with the responsibilty to take care of the house and his four chidren for the day after his wife is called away?

Pretty much just 5.5k words of family fluff and Aesop Sharp being a great dad. You can get more acquainted with the kids in their brief summary. Brought to you by @tea-withjamandbread and @aesopsharpmybeloved ❤

word count: 5.5k

tw: tooth-rotting fluff

Aesop didn't mind taking care of everything for the day. Of course he did not, his wife more than deserved this little day off. After all, she was handling the house and the children, and oftentimes assisted him in the shop as well. A renowned magizoologist reached out to her via Owl post, after Ellie Peck recommended her as the person to go to when it comes to graphorns. MC would be helping secure a little sanctuary for the beasts, so that they stayed away from muggles, and muggles stayed well away from them.

The younger woman was unsure whether she should leave Aesop and their children by themselves, but Aesop knew that she wanted to go, he saw it in her eyes. She always had an affinity for these beasts, for some reason Aesop did not understand. So, after some convincing and reassuring her that, while he could never compare to her level of efficiency, he was more than capable of handling the home responsibilities on his own for the day.

The shop stayed closed that morning, and the few orders he had he sent out the previous day using the post office owls.

Aesop kissed his wife goodbye as she slipped out before the children awoke. He of course gave her plenty of Wiggenweld, Skele-Gro, and some other healing concoctions, despite her protests she would be absolutely fine. Aesop wouldn’t take no for an answer, however, unable to keep himself from worrying. ‘Better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them’ he insisted to her, and she finally accepted. With one last wave, and a loud pop, she disapparated from their front garden. Aesop spent a minute or two looking at the spot she stood at a while ago, taking in the cool spring air. It had rained the previous day, and the scent of damp earth filled his nostrils, making him relax slightly. As always, it felt like time stood still in the small village of Willow Creek. Droplets of water were glistening upon the evergreen grass and leaves, the light wind made the trees around sing a soft song, and nobody seemed to be up and about yet. One of the neighbourhood cats walked around slowly, looking at him curiously for a moment, before deeming him entirely uninteresting and continuing its route.

It was quite earlier than Aesop usually got up, even when he did wake up to go to work. He considered catching a couple more minutes, maybe even an hour, of sleep, but ultimately decided to begin going about his day. He wanted to make his wife proud, after all.

The former professor made his way into the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast for himself and the children. He got himself a cup of tea first, his eyes skimming over the crisp pages of the Daily Prophet one of the newspapers’ owls brought in soon after he returned inside. He rolled his eyes several times at yet another attempt of David Spavin, son of the former minister Farris, to prove he was a better choice for the office than Venusia Crickerly, simply because his father was the longest working minister. Unbelievable. Venusia was a former Auror, and Aesop worked with her on multiple occasions. She was driven, hard-working, and completely dedicated to her job, while David Farris was the subject of several scandals throughout the years. Best keep that one as far away from the minister chair as possible, Aesop mused.

In a matter of a few minutes later, a pan was sitting upon the stove, and a couple of sunny side up eggs and slices of ham were sizzling away, filling the cosy kitchen with a mouth-watering smell. With a wave of Aesop’s wand, fresh vegetables floated off to the sink and washed themselves, before neatly arranging themselves upon a cutting board, just in time for a large knife to begin slicing them. Popps the Kneazle, lured in by the irresistible scent, began rubbing against his legs, and Aesop took mercy on the family pet and fed her two slices of the ham, before waving his wand to replenish the beast feed in her bowl in the hallway. Popps seemed quite happy with this kind of deal, and with a few more loops around his legs, she disappeared from the kitchen, presumably going to eat some more food, before going to curl up close to one of the fireplaces.

"Dad?" Came from the door, making Aesop turn. His oldest daughter was standing there in her long nightshirt and dressing gown, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes slowly. Aesop couldn’t hold back his smile. His daughter’s hair was sticking out in all directions, there was a bit of drool dried upon her cheek, and her dressing gown was inside out - something the eleven year old failed to notice. "Good morning, love. Have you slept well?" he asked softly, waiting for the girl to reach him, before kneeling momentarily to press a kiss upon her pink cheek and stroke her messy hair.

"I have, thank you," the girl replied.

Aesop couldn't believe his little girl would be starting Hogwarts in just a few months. It felt like it was only yesterday he first held her in his arms, like no longer than 24 hours had passed since he first saw his wife nurse their beautiful newborn. He didn’t admit so to anyone, but he had no idea how he was going to fare with Magdala leaving to spend 70% of the following seven years at Hogwarts. He might have to take on more orders from the Hospital wing, just so he can catch a glimpse of his daughter outside summer and Christmas.

"Where's mum?" She asked curiously, oblivious to her father’s tiny emotional whirlwind. Aesop gave a chuckle, glad for the distraction: "Is it really so rare for me to be the one making breakfast? Quite the cad I am, I really ought to try to be better." "You cook dinner quite often. And help mum a lot," she said, shrugging her shoulders shortly before jumping up to sit on the counter, her small bare feet swinging slightly. "Watch for the knife, my sweet," Aesop warned, even though the knife was nowhere near the child.

He pressed a slice of apple into her hand, and his daughter immediately took a bite of the juicy fruit. "Your mum went to help set up a Graphorn sanctuary," Aesop said, carefully flipping the ham and eggs over one by one.Not a second after he said it did Magdala's big brown eyes light up, and her mouth parted, revealing a small piece of the apple inside.

Aesop’s automatic ‘Close your mouth and swallow your food’ was almost too quiet for even him to hear, but it seemed Magdala did, and she did as he asked, swallowing her bite before speaking:

"What?! Why didn't you tell me?" She squealed, wildly swinging her legs, looking like she was ready to immediately go and teach herself Apparition, just so she could join her mother on the adventure. Aesop knew that if she could, she most definitely would. Wouldn’t even change out of her sleeping clothes... "Because if we did, you wouldn't let her leave without you,” he said kindly, not wanting to upset his daughter, “While I trust your skill to handle beasts completely, I think a Graphorn, not to mention a full herd of them, may still be a little out of your size category, dear. But don't worry, mum took a camera. She'll bring you pictures."

Maggie’s eyes dropped for a little bit, but it seemed she accepted Aesop's explanation, as a few seconds later, the mischievous spark returned into them: "I should hope so!” she grinned. “Can I help you with anything?"

"As a matter of fact, you can! Open your mouth, I need to know if I didn't put too much salt on them.” Aesop plopped a small piece of one of the eggs into her mouth, and murmured happily when she gestured at him that the eggs were alright. Content, he and Maggie plated the breakfast, making sure the meal was well balanced.

"So. What are we going to do today?" Magdala asked as she dutifully arranged vegetables on her siblings’ plates, making sure everyone had enough. Aesop meanwhile spelled the pan and utensils away into the sink to wash, and had the kettle fill up to make more tea. The one children drank was considerably weaker. "What do you usually do on a day like this?" he asked. Maggie thought for a while. "Well, mum teaches us until noon. I'll show you where each of us is right now. We should be doing Maths today, and Theo and (FN) practise their writing and reading too."

"Then we do that,” Aesop agreed softly, “School things first, then I'll fix you with some lunch, and maybe we could all take a nice walk outside after that, get some fresh air." Maggie quickly spoke: "The twins need to take a nap after lunch, though. They get grumpy if they don't. That is, (FN) just starts to tear up easily, and Theo starts plotting mischief."

"I can see that it's vital I've got you here, partner. I'd be utterly lost without you,” Aesop grinned at his daughter and ruffled her hair again.

Aesop with Maggie's help made gentle work of waking the rest of the Sharp children. He stood in silent vigil as the bathroom filled with the sound of brushing teeth. Theodore would make frothy-mouthed faces at his father and siblings, and his twin sister seemed greatly amused by them. They got dressed on their own, and all their father needed to do was to fix a wrongly done button, every now and then when it came to the youngest members of the family. After breakfast (during which Theo only fussed about his vegetables a little bit), Aesop decided to give his children an hour of free time, so that they could prepare for their schooling.

Magdala was ever so helpful in showing him what each of them did, and Aesop often checked with the books his wife left out for him. He had to admit, it was very lovely to be able to witness his children's little successes, and see the joy and pride in their eyes when he graded their assignments. Eleazar's fractions, while correct in solution, were slightly more complicated than necessary, but with Aesop's aid, they were able to find a way for the young lad to make the process a bit neater and easier.

The twins were still getting used to handling writing with a quill, but Aesop was pleased their hands were only slightly ink-stained once they were done. (FN)'s script was neater and the young girl took her time making sure her letters turned out legible (though Aesop had to remind her to put her tongue back into her mouth), while Theodore had more of a scrawl every time he got distracted, but it wasn't anything too drastic in their father's opinion.

"Shall I help you with lunch?" Maggie asked after they wrapped up for the day. "Thank you for the offer, my sweet. Don't you want to go outside and play with your siblings?" Aesop asked gently, after setting Theo down from the sink, his small hands once more clean. Maggie's cheeks flushed slightly and she looked at him from under her eyelashes. Aesop’s heart sang. He knew all of his children loved him immensely, like he loved them, but Maggie was a very obvious example of a ‘daddy’s girl’. He found he didn’t mind at all.

"You can help me peel the potatoes if you'd like,” he agreed finally, smiling when the girl’s eyes lit up. “Eleazar,” he called towards the middle child, who was currently neatly stacking his textbooks into the proper shelf. Aesop knew his son loved to have his things nicely organised, even his quills were sorted by size. “Will you keep an eye on your brother and sister?"

"Of course, dad."

And so Maggie once more found her spot on top of the kitchen counter, her little hands carefully peeling the potatoes using a small knife. Her mother and him took the time to teach their children how to handle sharp objects properly, as it was best that they knew how to keep themselves safe before being handed a dagger in their first potions lesson at Hogwarts and told to cut a mandrake up. Aesop kept an eye on his other children outside, the onion in his pot getting aromatic and making his belly rumble. It seemed all was fine, Eleazar entertained his siblings by what looked like some sort of modified game of land-Quidditch. Maggie seemed content to just be with her father, and Aesop wasn't able to stop himself from caressing her shoulder or hair whenever he walked around her. When his hands were clean, that is.

After their lunch of pork and mashed potatoes, Aesop brought his two youngest to their beds. Theodore visibly tried to stay awake, but the hearty meal made his eyes close on their own even before her sister fell asleep. And speaking of (FN), she insisted on holding her father's hand as slumber claimed her.

With a final look, Aesop closed the door of their room and descended the stairs into the living room. His older children seemed intent on also resting after their food - Eleazar was curled up on the sofa with a potions magazine Aesop subscribed to, seeming very invested in whatever he was reading, while Maggie sat by the ever burning fire in the fireplace, drawing into the sketchbook Aesop got her after she showed her interest in drawing.

It warmed his heart to know his children took up something he too held dear. Maggie's drawings were getting better and better every day, and Aesop had no doubt there would come a day when she'll have reached his own level, or even surpassed it entirely. "What's it going to be?" He asked softly, not wanting to break her focus. "A mooncalf," she replied, showing her father. It indeed began to resemble the large-eyed creature. Aesop gave an admiring whistle. "I can't wait to see it when it's done. Listen, I'll be going downstairs to check up on some brews, and attend to a few orders that came by the mail today. Will you two be alright here?"

A pair of softly said 'Yes, dad's echoed through the space, and Aesop smiled. Before he left, he pressed a kiss into both children's hair. The house was well warded, and so he wasn't worried about missing any of his children leaving the property, or, Merlin forbid, anyone unexpectedly coming in. Besides, he trusted them. The twins were still quite small, and Theodore could be a handful if he wanted, but Aesop knew he was a good lad. A little wild occasionally, but he never misbehaved too terribly, and has always been clever and kind. It was actually (FN) who worried the potions master a little more. She was a shy one, and rather quiet. Nevertheless, her love for her family shone through her words and actions each day. And Theo doted on her and protected her fiercely.

A memory made Aesop smile as he checked and adjusted the heat underneath his cauldrons. (FN), a few years younger than now, was feeling a bit under the weather after they returned from Hogsmsade one day, a combination of tiredness, hunger and general stress from being around so many strangers, and was still crying softly even after they got home. Theo ran into the garden and returned moments later, holding a single honking daffodil (pinched from Mrs Pruitt's garden no doubt).

He presented his sister with the flower, and kissed her damp cheek. It was enough for her to stop crying, looking at her twin brother with big eyes. And then, in a moment forever written into Aesop's memory, the flower honked quietly, and his youngest child actually let out a small chuckle.

(FN) would be fine, Aesop decided finally. She not only had her parents, but also her extremely loyal and loving siblings to make sure of that.

An hour or so later, Aesop ladled one of the finished potions into small bottles, making sure to stopper them tightly and place the proper labels upon them.

It was surreal, knowing that at this time ten years ago, he’d be standing in front of a dozen or so of students, explaining what the use of Fatigue infusion was, and warning that anyone falling asleep in his class, be it from boredom or potion fume inhalation, will automatically receive a T. He did sometimes miss seeing some of his colleagues every day, not to mention some of the mischief the students caused was undeniably funny, but every single day he was thankful to have been able to resign his post, and leave behind a competent teacher, in favour of being able to see his family only a short while after he closed the shop at half past four in the afternoon, as opposed as having to spend extra time at the school hosting detentions or grading essays. Not to mention it felt great to be his own boss - therefore having a boss who was not an utter imbecile like Headmaster dear.

After making sure everything was well put away and taken care of in his little workshop, he washed his hands one last time and exited the cellar in order to check up on the children. The twins were still sound asleep, Theodore’s small snores reverberating off the walls. The former professor grinned at the sleeping children before quietly retreating to find the older ones. Another hour ticked by quietly and Aesop found himself discussing the potions in his magazine with Eleazar, while Magdala carried on drawing. The young lad was greatly amused by some of the interesting names inventors gave their original brews.

When (FN) joined them in the living room, Aesop decided it was time for them to go outside for a bit. He made sure his children were well dressed, insisted on all of them wearing a hat (though Maggie complained about having her hair all matted later), and together they set off on a little walk around the village. He held (FN)'s hand, while Theodore ran laps around them, very curious to see everything, despite walking down this trail nearly every other day. Every once in a while, he'd appear holding a twig and playing with it as it was a wand, or, occasionally, a sword. He lost interest in it every time a nicer one appeared. El was being helpful and asked his father every time they came upon some flower or herb whether he should pick them up, and Maggie indulged her little brother every now and then, playing pretend duels with her and Theo's 'wands' and 'swords'. The weather was quite nice, and Aesop thirstily took in gulps of the fresh air.

After they arrived back home, El decided to play a game of cards with Theo, while Aesop helped fix his girls' hair, and braided it for them too. He'd usually come home around this time. While the kids seemed content to entertain themselves and each other, Aesop did some chores around the house.

He cleaned Diana's perch, and was rewarded by an affectionate peck to his fingers by the dark owl, he dusted the surfaces with a flick of his wand, and made quick work of the laundry. He carefully folded and put away the twins' clothing, and put the older children’s clean garments into their rooms for them to fold and put away themselves. Maggie and Eleazar were expected to take care of their own rooms, and they've been doing a good job of it, El perhaps a bit more so than Maggie. Still, Aesop wouldn't consider his oldest daughter's room overly messy, more like properly lived in. There were a few papers there, some drawing supplies here, the occasional book she left open somewhere, nothing too drastic.

And when the sun outside set, Aesop decided it was high time for him to start making dinner. He decided on chicken with rice, light yet filling. He usually either helped his wife with dinner, or he took it off her hands entirely. He thought about her while he worked, hoping wherever she was was that she was alright and would be joining them soon.

As he cooked, listening to his children play and talk in the other rooms, he thanked his lucky stars. There was a time he thought he was going to die alone, a bitter old man with a lame leg, and all those years ago, he wouldn't have believed that he'd ever have what he had now. A beautiful, kind, and thoughtful wife, and four amazing, healthy and clever children. He thought of the fifth, of their firstborn. He often wished the little one had been given a chance. He'd have a happy home, filled with people who loved him. Clarence was loved still, of course, even though he wasn't physically there. Aesop wondered whether he's somewhere out there, with his own dad and Ashley. He hoped it was the case, and that all of them knew no pain, no fear, and felt the love he held for them.

The former professor cast a heating charm on the pot containing MC's portion of dinner. Aesop didn't know if she'd be hungry when she arrived, but better to be ready.

Once the family was done eating, and Magdala and Eleazar kindly offered to take care of the dishes, they took turns in the bathroom, and Aesop supervised the twins' bath time. This too was one of the activities he and MC split. He knew that the youngest children would soon begin bathing on their own, so he was happy to indulge them in whatever game either of them decided to play in the tub. A collective teeth scrub later, Aesop went to put the small ones to bed. The two older were allowed to stay up a little longer, and both of them chose to use this extra time for some more reading and drawing.

He once again held (FN)'s hand as she slowly fell asleep, and Theo was not at all fussy about going to bed now. His hair sprawled on the pillow like a dark halo, and he was soon snoring quietly.

When he was done with the twins, he made his way into Eleazar's room to find the middle child already in his bed, waiting for him to tuck him in patiently.

"Dad?" Eleazar asked quietly.

"What is it, dear?" Aesop kneed by the bed so that his son didn’t have to crane his head to look up at him.

"Can I help you with the batch of Blood replenishing potion tomorrow?"

"How do you know I'll be brewing that tomorrow?"

"You said so to mum, the day before yesterday."

Aesop laughed softly. Ever since he let Eleazar first assist him down at the potion cellar, the young lad tried to get himself included in his brewing as often as he could. Aesop didn’t know why exactly were potions this fascinating to a boy his age, but he hardly complained. After all, it seemed Eleazar was born with all the natural potioneer instincts and talent Aesop himself only gained through hard work and countless hours of practice: "Nothing escapes you, does it? Hm... I think you could assist me with that one."

"Really? Thank you,” Eleazar said with a soft little smile. The lad definitely took after his mother more, all soft features and gentle eyes.

"Now sleep,” Aesop rose again, squeezing his son's shoulder lightly before giving it a little pat, “I can't have you nodding off into a boiling hot cauldron, can I?"

Eleazar giggled tiredly: "Goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight, my dear lad."

After kissing his forehead, Aesop left the room, leaving his son to rest. Maggie was last. She wasn't in her bed when Aesop knocked on the door and entered her room. Instead, the young witch was still sitting at her desk, drawing. Her father stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for a minute or two watching how hard his daughter concentrated. However, it truly was getting late now, and MC would hardly be pleased if she found out he let the children spend half the night awake.

"Come on, Maggs. Bedtime."

"Daddy, let me stay up a bit longer?"

Aesop looked at his daughter curiously. It was clear from her voice that she’s been fighting off yawns, and her eyes were small and sleepy in the light of her desk lamp.

"Come now, dear, you’re tired. Why don't you want to go to bed?" He asked, stepping further into the room and coming to stand behind Magdala, looking at the various drawings she’s done throughout the evening. There were unicorns and mooncalves, but he also recognised Popps the Kneazle in one, as well as something that could’ve been a graphorn, if graphorns were known to look positively cute.

"I want to wait for mum! I would like to see the pictures..."

"Darling, I don't know when your mum will be back,” Aesop said calmly, stroking at his daughter’s back, “she could come back after midnight, or even in the early hours of the morning, you can't be awake the whole night waiting for her."

"Please..."

Aesop sighed. HHe didn’t want her to spend the next day completely exhausted, but he also hated disappointing his children. But then again, the young girl now looked like she was minutes away from falling asleep right there at her desk, and so perhaps he could coax her to at least retire to her cot while ‘allowing’ her to remain awake. He had no doubt the issue would then resolve itself quickly.

“But only a little longer, and I want you in bed. I'll wait with you, how does that sound?"

Maggie luckily agreed to these terms, and began putting her drawings and her tools away. Aesop waited until she settled in her bed, and then sat at the foot of it.

"Do you think I could ever go see the graphorns?" Maggie asked, her arms folded loosely on her chest. "I'm sure you will one day.,” her father replied, taking a gentle hold of one of her hands atop the blankets after making sure they were snug around her, “When you're a little bigger. I know your mum treats them like cats, but you must understand that graphorns aren’t really cats. They are incredibly dangerous."

"So are hippogriffs,” the girl tried to argue back, even though her voice was getting more and more sleepy by the second.

"Yes,” he agreed, “but the hippogriffs you and your siblings come into contact with have known you all of your lives. Wild hippogriffs would not be this friendly, and I doubt the wild graphorns at the sanctuary will take to your mum as easily as those she already tamed."

"...Will she be alright?"

"Oh, of course she will. She'll be right as rain. And tomorrow, she'll show you all the pictures and tell you all about her adventures."

"Why not today?” she argued still, even as her eyes were now more often closed than open.

"As I said, I don't know when your mum comes home. And even if she walked through the door right now, you're entirely too tired to be looking at graphorns right now, my sweet."

"I'm not - “ the girl yawned loudly, “-m not tired."

"Of course you're not."

"Have you ever touched a graphorn?"

"Oh I did. Several times, actually. The ones your mother used to keep. I was not too keen on them in the beginning, but they did grow on me over the years."

"Which other beasts did she keep? Any that she doesn't keep now?"

And so Aesop talked about all of the beasts he encountered in his wife's vivariums, and later in that chest he helped her transfigure into the perfect place for animals. Maggie would occasionally ask a question, her voice quieter and quieter each time, until she stopped asking entirely. Still, Aesop sat with her, looking at his precious little girl. Her face was still that of a child, but her more grown up features began appearing in it as well, and Aesop had no doubt she'd grow up to be a real beauty one day, just like her mother was. He actually saw in her bits of his own mother, Maggie’s namesake, like the gentle slope of her nose, or the expressive eyebrows.

Before he realised his eyes were even closing, the former professor nodded off.

A gentle hand on his cheek woke him and he looked around in the dim room. His eyes caught those of his wife. "Hello, you," she chirped quietly, mindful not to wake their daughter. Aesop stifled a groan - his poor back. It bothered him whenever he fell asleep somewhere that wasn't his bed. MC's other hand held out a vial he'd never fail to recognise.

"You'll be pleased to know that your crate worth of Wiggenweld potions was entirely unneeded. That is, until I came here and saw you. Was this your plan all along?" she asked teasingly, her eyes sparkling even in the dark. Aesop quickly gulped down the potion and welcomed the near instant relief. He gave one more look to his sleeping child before letting his wife pull him to his feet and lead him out of the bedroom.

Once they were outside and the door was shut, he gathered the woman into his arms and captured her lips with his own. It was not a short ‘welcome back’ kiss either, the former professor would not allow his woman to leave his arms until he deemed her sensibly snogged and breathless.

"Hello," he finally greeted, his voice slightly hoarse from both his impromptu nap and the heated kiss they just shared., "when did you get home?" "Just now,” she replied, still holding onto him for dear life, “It's half past midnight. Sorry I took so long, but the beasts are now safe in their new home."

"I'm happy to hear it. Have you eaten? There's chicken with rice in the kitchen."

"I have, thank you. I'll save it for tomorrow. But I could definitely use a bath. One gets sweaty chasing graphorns around."

Aesop chuckled, dipping his head into the crook of her neck, a very special place he considered his home just as much as his house.

"Hm... You smell amazing though."

"And you're a liar, Aesop Sharp."

"I'm not. You smell delectable. I could eat you up."

She laughed softly at his words, keeping her volume sensibly low so as not to wake up half the house. The palms of her hands made contact with his chest in what was st likely supposed to be a teasing smack, but was way too gentle to be seen as much.

"Oh you... Come, let's have a quick bath before bed, she decided, leading her husband away by the hand from their eldest daughter’s room and towards their own bedroom, "How was your day?" "Definitely less thrilling than yours, but I enjoyed it very much” said Aesop honestly, sitting on their shared bed as his wife began pulling off her rather dirty clothes. “The children were lovely and very well behaved the entire day, did their school work without any fuss, (FN) writes very nicely, and Eleazar’s fractions are getting better and better with each exercise. And Maggie helped me cook lunch today."

"Would you look at that. You lot have been busy. I'm very glad to hear it."

"What about you?” Aesop asked, aiding his wife at removing the last bits of her clothing while beginning to work on his own garment. Their clothes immediately floated off to the hamper to be dealt with later. !I can see you’ve been rolling around a bit."

"I had to dodge quickly, some of the males were a little fussy. I've still got it though, only broke a little sweat,” the younger woman gave him a little grin, and Aesop felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It’s been over fifteen years since they shared their first kiss, their first embrace, since they first lay together, and yet a single look and a single smile made Aesop’s heart pick up pace and his knees go a little weaker.

"I'd never dare even mention the possibility of you not having it,” He said finally. Aesop knew she saw right past him, he was hyper aware that she was able to read him like an open book now. She knew all of his secrets, the entirety of his past, she knew where he was vulnerable the most.

He couldn’t wish for a person he’d trust more with this knowledge.

“So, about the bath…”

Hello, and thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story, we'll be very thankful for any and all feedback, and you can also check this fic out over at AO3, where all of the other Sharp family fics are as well 🥰

#aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy #professor sharp #eleazar sharp #magdala sharp #natty sharp #theodore sharp #tag: the sharp family #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #aesop sharp x mc #family fluff #sice of life #domestic fluff #aesop sharp is a great dad #fluff #kid fic

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slinket · 4 months

Text

Smutmas Day 8

Prompt: Touch me and you lose

NSFW

MC wanted the world to be fair, as much as it could be, which is why she was alway so upset with Professor Sharp and his treatment of Ominis. It was ok to have high expectations despite the disability, but it was not ok to have those expectations if you as a teacher are unwilling to adapt your teaching to better help the student.

Ominis couldn't see the ingredients or read the labels. Nothing was written in braille. While Ominis was able to identify some things by their smell or feel, it was often dangerous to sniff or touch several ingredients, which left him at a huge disadvantage. Ominis couldn’t compare to a regular sighted student because he wasn’t being given a way to learn that ‘overrode’ his inability to see.

He should have been assigned something like an interpreter. This person would not be able to help Ominis in any way, just level the playing field. The assigned person could be expected to read labels, just the names, no information about what the item did (unless other students were also given that information.) This helper would be able to make a statement regarding the color of the potion - ‘the potion has become purple’ - Ominis would still be expected to know what the purple color meant, but he had to know first that it had become purple.

Basically, Ominis was being screwed out of his education, and possible future opportunities because his Professor refused to accommodate him. It really pissed MC off. She knew Ominis didn’t like talking about his disability, or even admitting that his blindness did cause him some problems. MC thought he should talk about it more though. There was nothing wrong with him intellectually due to the blindness, and it was unfair that some of his grades may have reflected as though he was ‘slow.’ No, she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. He worked his ass off, was a great friend and person, and she would do what she needed to do to make sure he was treated fairly.

MC gave a few impassioned speeches to Ominis’s professors, several of them agreeing with her, and would look into adapting the material so he had better access. The one person who refused to bend though, was Sharp. Potions was already a hard subject for Ominis, but it being so reliant on sight really made it nearly impossible for him to compete academically.

She scheduled another appointment to speak with Sharp again, this time making it late at night. It was time to put her plan into action. She arrived a bit early for the appointment, wearing her tightest clothing under her robe. If she couldn’t Sharp to agree to treat Ominis better, she would blackmail him into it.

When Sharp arrived, he found her sitting on his desk awaiting him. Rather than unsettle her, he sat down in the chair the student would usually take. He looked up at her, forcing a smile.

“Another meeting, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh Professor Sharp, I am here to speak to you about Ominis again.”

“MC, I already told you, I will not be allowing any advantages in this classroom.”

“It wouldn’t be an advantage - you would be making things fair and possible for him.”

“My answer is still no.”

MC furrowed her lips. She shifted on the desk, removing her robe, and showing off her tight clothing. Watching Sharp follow her movements with his eyes, she brought her feet up onto the desk, and spread her legs apart. Sharp’s eyes dipped down quickly to see her exposed pussy. MC saw his eyes go wide, and he looked up at her before turning away.

“Oh, you can look, Professor Sharp. I want you to look. I am here, specifically for you to look.” MC slid her hand over to her leg, running her finger over her thigh before tracing it down to her lower lips.

Sharp turned back to look at her, his eyes falling directly at her open legs. He swallowed hard. “Why are you doing this?”

“See, Ominis is my best friend, and I would do anything to make sure he is treated fairly. I love him dearly. If I can use my body to help him live a better life, I will do so willingly.”

She took two fingers and ran them up and down her pussy lips. She then opened her lips apart with the fingers, allowing Sharp to see inside of her. The glistening skin, pink and warm, her opening being visibly small, letting him know how tight she would be, should he ever be lucky enough to get inside.

“I am going to let you watch while I touch myself. You are welcome to pleasure yourself as well, but touch me and you lose. In response to this gift, you will start treating Ominis and his education in the way that I demand. If you don’t, I will go straight to the headmaster and tell him all about how you took advantage of me.” She dipped a finger inside of herself, pumping it in and out slowly, listening to Sharp’s breathing change.

“We both know that while you may have some misgivings about this - Black won’t, so if I offer him the same deal - fire you and he can watch me - he will take the win. So, I suggest you just enjoy yourself.”

Sharp nodded, his eyes never leaving her pussy. He reached down to his pants, pulling his already pulsing cock out, and wrapping his hand around the base.

“Oh, look at that, how large you are Professor. You see my tight little hole?” She pulled her finger out, letting him look inside of her once again, “I think that as long as you uphold your part of the deal, I may let you slip that monster inside of me. You would stretch me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would shove myself completely inside of you, I would tear you apart, and you would love it.” His hand started pumping, and at each upstroke Sharp would run a finger across the head, pulling his dripping pre cum down over his shaft.

They continued this way for a bit, MC playing with herself, even allowing Sharp to guide her motions. He really loved watching her play with her clit, running her finger over it in circles and then watching her core clench over nothing, like it was begging him to fill it.

He kept his hands to himself, never touching her, just stroking himself, thrusting into his hand as he brought himself closer to explosion.

“Professor - You’re going to start treating my Ominis better now, yes?” MC asked him once again, knowing that he was reaching his height of pleasure.

“He will be given anything that will help him in passing.”

“Ohh, good boy. Come here. You still can’t put your hands on me, but I want you to press the tip of your cock right here.” She pushed her finger into her core. “Don’t push inside, but I will allow you to cum right on my hole.”

Sharp was standing in front of her within seconds, his cock pressed right up against her, making sure his slit was covered so his seed would flow into her. MC rubbed her clit again, Sharp now able to feel the liquid heat spill onto him, and finally was able to feel her core pulse, grasping onto the little bit of his cock that it could. That moment was all he needed, his body shattered as he started to cum, shooting inside of her before it would pool and start seeping out. When he pulled away, he watched as his seed puddled at her opening, some of it slowly dripping down the remainder of her slit, pooling once again at her ass.

The next time MC and Ominis had Potions, he found that the bottles holding ingredients had braille on them. Ominis was also surprised that Sharp was allowing MC to tell him when his potion had shifted color. As class was ending, Ominis leaned over to his friend, kissing her cheek as she grabbed his hand.

“I don’t know what you did, but I know this change is because of you, thank you, my darling.” His whisper flowed through her ears, bringing joy to her face.

She returned the kiss, while looking at Sharp. “Anything for you, Ominis.”

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy smut #smutmas 2023 #professor sharp #aesop sharp #aesop sharp x mc

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legacygirlingreen · 2 months

Text

Burning Eyes & Laughter // Aesop Sharp NSFW

A/N: I absolutely apologize for this unedited mess. It’s also a massive stray from my usual content but I just had to write one for my best friend around the anniversary of the games release. I know most of you follow me for Sebastian content and I’m working on updates for those, but this was a quick write for my favorite person. @strawberrypinky I absolutely adore you, and I dedicate this one to you.

This was using a Sharpuary prompt for today (which I was only made aware of via my favorite Potions professor loving girl 🤣) so if you want more content for this theme , the challenged was created by @ynyseira if you want to see the whole list. Also this is written to be whatever you prefer for insert: could be your OC, MC , yourself/ y/n (no judgement) and NO use of any of the above for whatever floats your boat the most. Just note it is AFAB for the ugh… *cough* content…. 😈

This was prompt 13. Alihotsy

Word count: 7k

Warnings : SMUT, mild dom tones (but still respectful), mentions of woman on top, swearing, character gets drugged with laughing potion

AUDIO CAN NOW BE FOUND HERE

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

Aesop Sharp had been surprised when a professor rivaling even his own level of grumpiness joined their staff replacing poor Eleazar Fig following the man’s untimely death. When the end of term concluded, and the students sent home, Aesop was looking forward to a few months without Garreth Weasleys constant mischief, monitoring Sebastian Sallow’s detentions and just the general rude chatter provided by the students. It’s not that he hated kids directly… just struggled with their lack of maturity at times.

When Phineas introduced a daughter of one of his friends - a young woman from a sacred 28 family who walked behind the man with annoyance even in her light footed steps- he had been… intrigued. This interest growing more so when Matilda informed the rest of the staff that the young woman was taking over for the late professor as the school’s Magical Theory educator.

The final nail in the coffin so to speak came in the form of the polite but formal greeting she seemed to share with one of the only colleagues he actively enjoyed : Dinah Hecat. Upon further listening - or perhaps it was eavesdropping - he discovered she too had worked for the Ministry of Magic, often dropping off dark artifacts at the Unspeakable office, thus crossing paths with Dinah.

It wasn’t until he was having the young woman stare in his direction, fire in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow he realized she had been talking to him.

“Pardon?” He asked coming to his senses as the woman actually had the gall to role her eyes at him before snapping.

“Can I help you?” She repeated, this time much firmer as he decided that perhaps the young woman, while having the appearance of a sweet and lovely maiden, was in fact much more nasty at heart than he could’ve imagined.

“No”, he said curtly before turning to Hecat trying to excuse himself from the conversation as not only had the woman’s reaction brought annoyance to him, but deep down he was growing embarrassed. He had been out of line to stare and put a listening ear to a conversation he was not a part of.

“Didn’t anyone ever educate you that it’s rude to stare?” She continued to berate him and despite knowing she had every right to do so.

“Bold of you to assume that I was staring at you Ma’am. If it is such an offense than perhaps I shall make amends with your husband for being so rude to his-“ he started, the formality he was accustomed to especially with wealthy pure blood families coming to light.

“You shall make your amends directly to me as I have no husband” she said once again with anger burning in her eyes. At her words she straightening, almost as if she was attempting to make herself taller.

In all his years he had yet to meet a woman her age from a family like hers who remained this way. Being a spinster was often reserved for half blooded families or those less wealthy.

Intriguing…

Despite finding her words to be interesting he couldn’t stop the natural response he often had to terse conversations like this. Aesop would like to blame it on the years of being an auror, dealing with less than pleasant dark witches and wizards, but when he looked back on his life he always tended to have a bit of an edge that was never shakable.

“Well perhaps if you did have a husband you would be much more agreeable. Excuse me.” Aesop said, straightening to full height and forcing the pain in his leg to quiet as much as possible so he could stomp away without giving allusions to his limp.

The gasps leaving the staff members behind him initially being the only thing he heard, that was until her splintered tone muttered “cantankerous bastard” with a scoff.

Aesop Sharp wasn’t proud of the small flame that started burning in his soul at hearing her open rebellion to his brash actions…

————————————

Whoever said that first impressions don’t matter surely hadn’t been in the room the day the potions professor first met the Magic Theory replacement. Ever since that moment they had been the definition of “water” and “oil”. Often exploding at each other in staff meetings and angrily squabbling as they planned their lessons in the library.

As much as Aesop tried to blame his frustrating with children on their lack of maturity, he certainly continued to find himself reporting to such immature when trying to rile up the new professor. The woman, over a decade his junior and nearly half his size in stature carried a spitfire soul that continued to plague him when he was in his quarters alone at night.

He found observing that inferno take hold in her eyes as she stared him down as she lashed out in retaliation to be something more intoxicating than the most expensive whiskeys he had ever consumed. The anger within her pulling him in like a sire luring sailors to shore. Essentially, he’d grown addicted to making her angry purely for the reaction she provided while fuming.

If someone had told him that into his forties Aesop would be harassing a younger woman solely to see the rise out of her he’d have assumed them to be a liar. Yet, here he found himself stomping by her bedchambers, intentionally causing more noise than inherently necessary as he did so during the early hours of the morning. Knowing Abraham had returned home for the weekend he had little qualms of making the noise as they were the only two professors on this floor. And when she didn’t come bounding out to scold him, Aesop decided to take it a tiny bit further, intentionally dropping a book onto the floor right outside her door, despite knowing that it would be a pain to pick up.

When the wooden door flew open and she looked at him ready to draw blood he knew it had all been worth it.

“Merlin’s bloody ballsack!” The woman shouted, and despite her toned down attire and frustration he was almost surprised as she took one look at him directly outside her door and still bent down to retrieve the book. Despite her obvious annoyance with him, he wondered why she still felt the need to reach down and collect his fallen book. Inside he hoped that perhaps she didn’t fully hate him - even going as far to worry about him following over with his aliment - but when she stood back at full height again she instantly took to berating him.

“What in Salazar’s name are you doing loudly stomping through the halls and dropping things right outside my door in the middle of the night? Honestly Sharp, this is getting out of line. It’s one thing to fight during the days, but to bother me when I’m alone is entirely another. I thought you were Peeves acting a fool, turns out you’ve decided to bring your childish antics into inappropriate hours as well. Not only is is just rude but it’s shameful knowing I could’ve come out indecent-“ she chastised in such a fast tone he was almost impressed with her ability to angrily yell at him so quickly without taking a breath.

He caught the part about her possibly coming out indecent and the thought alone made his mind wander as he stood there, mouth agape all the while the young woman continued to yell at him. In her attempt to thrust the book back into his hands she dropped the arm wrapped around her abdomen, which was acting to keep her robe closed. As this happened he got a decent enough glance at her night-slip and as his eyes once again darted back up Aesop Sharp realized he had regretfully been caught gawking at the tiny sliver of indecency she accidentally had flashed.

“You are a swine Aesop Sharp!” She yelled promptly slamming the door in his face hard enough it echoed through the entire staff ward.

“You’re the least agreeable woman I’ve been privy to encounter!” he responded though the door, turning on his heel as he began the ascent towards his own room and when he made it to the next floor he was met with the floating smirk of Peeves.

Who would have thought

the potions man does indeed have a heart…

————————————

“This is getting quite ridiculous you two both have to admit” Matilda said with a frustrated sigh.

The young woman paced the floor while he leaned against the wall. The deputy headmistress had regretfully begun receiving complaints not just from other members of the staff, but even hearing from students how much the potions professor and the newest staff member were struggling to get along. Thus leading to one of the more awkward interventions she’d been forced to have in her career as an educator.

“I will not tolerate fighting amongst my staff. It is a shameful look, especially to our students, when two of our educators cannot act cordial” Matilda said with a frustrated sigh.

Just as Aesop moved to apologize to Professor Weasley a small house elf he’d seen on occasion apparatus into the room startling the pair of quarreling professors.

“Professor Weasley, I have made all the arrangements you asked” he informed her as he stood on the woman’s desk.

“Thank you Deek. Would you be willing to meet them in the astronomy tower corridor?” She asked the elf who only nodded before leaving once more.

“I have asked Deek to assist you both in searching the room of requirement. The headmaster would like specific items currently stored for an alumni event coming up. Considering you both cannot get along I figured this would provide you both ample opportunity to either get out all the anger you have away from students or perhaps even come to a middle ground,” Professor Weasley spoke.

Thats how Aesop found himself in the dark and cramped storage configuration of the room of requirement with the woman he found so attractive yet incredibly infuriating.

“I’m going to look over that way for those wizard chess boards and awards, come and find me when you’ve finished looking for the quidditch trophies” she said with an annoyed sigh and abandoning him before he had the opportunity to say no.

“Hobbling down the crowded walkways of the room he eventually made it to a broom rack surrounded by trophies. It wasn’t until he got closer he saw it.

Amongst all the relics associated with the schools only sport, he found a framed photo of someone recognizable. As he came closer he realized why. There, holding the quidditch cup was the woman he had found to frequently be on his mind. She was happy as she sat amongst the shoulders of other teammates, holding the hand of another woman as they held the cup high. Underneath the text read:

1880 Slytherin Quidditch Cup Winners

As he kept reading he found two familiar names. The woman in the room with him, along with another name he had heard before. Gaunt. Noctua Gaunt

Against his better nature Aesop Sharp found himself putting the small framed photo in his coat pocket for later as he heard her footsteps.

“Find what you were looking for?” She asked, tense but not the fully rude tone he’d grown accustomed to.

“Not quite. There’s much in here to get distracted by” he admitted as he turned back to look for the items he came for. Someday he’d ask her about the photo but for now, he’d just be content with the proof she had the ability to be happy.

—————————

“How dare you?!” She said as she stormed through his office door during a free period.

“We’ve been over this before, if you were more agreeable and spoke like the adult you claim to be perhaps we could come to a common ground sensibly” he told her with an eye roll.

“I will approach you with sensibility when you learn how to be sensible” she snapped as her arms came to her chest as they crossed.

“What am I being accused of this time?” He responded with an unimpressed tone.

“I was just informed that you refuse to allow accommodations to one of your students despite being told by the headmaster to do so” she explained and suddenly he knew what she was referring to.

“Mr Gaunt is perfectly capable to preform in class without the aforementioned accommodations. Asking for such is unreasonable ” he told her knowing that she held a soft spot for the boy.

“Making him guess what potion ingredients he’s adding is cruel, not to mention dangerous” she retorted and he scoffed.

“So I am to allow special treatment for all my students? Or perhaps only advantage those you hold sentiment towards?” He asked her with a scowl.

“This has nothing to do with my connection to Omi-Mr Gaunt” she corrected herself as she tried not to think about her friendship with his late Aunt. Letting a small ounce of vulnerability show she sighed as for the first time she tried to speak to the man in a calm manner. “It’s not advantaging him, it’s purely making sure he’s not at a disadvantage compared to his classmates”

He tried to remember what had even been asked to help the young man. A way to identify his ingredients?

“How does Mr. Gaunt normally read?” He asked her.

“With his wand…” she trailed of knowing that to ask for usage of a wand during potions examinations was unreasonable.

“Before he got a wand?” He asked her.

“We uh-“ she once again looked down unsure before clearing her throat to say, “he knows brail”

“Then I can arrange for ingrient bottles for him alone to use with brail on the labels. It will be on Mr. Gaunts accord to make sure prior to an examination that I confirm they are suitable to use. Is this agreeable?” He asked her.

“Yes” she told him, turning on her heel to leave. As she did so she looked over her shoulder briefly to say, “thank you Mr. Sharp” then leaving before he had a chance to reply.

————————————

For the most part not much had changed after their one pleasant interaction. If one could call it pleasant that is. Aesop certainly did. Ever since then, it felt as if the young woman had intentionally been avoiding him. Every attempt he made to rile her up, ignored. He hardly saw her in the dining hall or in the corridors. Or was almost as if the young woman had vanished completely.

Aesop tried not to let it bother him - in many ways it was good for his jobs sake that he wasn’t tempted by her immaturity - but a large part of him was starting to miss the anger behind her beautiful eyes.

“So I have gotten less complaints of a certain professor and you as of late? Am I to understand the matter has been resolved?” Matilda asked him as she stood in the entry way of his office. She had come to discuss more punishment options for Garreth as the boy had yet again stole from his stores to blow up another cauldron. After which the conversation shifted to his frustration with the Magic theory professor.

At her inquiry he was reminded of their last encounter. He has yet again caught her in her night gown. This time it had actually been on accident as Peeves the poltergeist stole from his art room and was parading through the wing as he yelled after the entity of chaos. This woke the woman up as she stormed out of her room in yet another silk slip ready to draw blood. Before he could actually apologize for seeing her in such a state she snapped as she retreated into her room and he followed closely behind, pounding on her door until she opened up, this time covered but entirely flustered.

“What is it Sharp?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“I was trying to apologize before you rudely took off” he huffed out.

“I was rude? I’m not the one staring at a woman in an improper state!” She countered and he laughed, once again setting that fire he’d missed.

“Perhaps if you stopped opening the door in these improper states it wouldn’t be an issue” he spoke with a smile as he turned to leave, not bothering to turn around, but from the way he didn’t hear her door close until he rounded the flight of stairs he knew he had left her speechless.

“Well?” Matilda Weasley asked breaking him out of his memory.

“I believe your prize new faculty member seems to be avoiding me” he responded honestly.

The older woman sighed in annoyance. “I really had hoped you two could get along. She has such a similar background to you. She often worked with both the Auror program and Dinah’s department. It’s a value to have such a person her. I hoped you could come together and better prepare those students who seek that lifestyle. Especially in encouraging those students whose family’s expect little to no career of challenge with such fortunes to fall back on. You both could lead by example. If I recall your parents wanted you to be a pencil pusher like your father Aesop, and you were adamant about taking your own path” she explained.

“What does that woman know of choosing to leave such expectations. She relied on her family name to get a job here? Connections through Phineas. And any ministry job -“ he tried to argue but the red head cut him off.

“She was nearly forced into marriage at such a young age like most pure blooded girls and she resisted it. She made a career. That is nearly unheard of with the sacred 28, especially those with close ties to the house you both called home while here” Matilda alluded to the common lifestyle of pure blooded families with obsession in maintaining that status.

“Matilda you’ve met the woman, I suspect she sent any suitor her father picked running for the highlands” he grumpily responded.

“Regardless I had hoped you both would find some common ground after you reached an agreement in assisting Mr. Gaunt” she said.

“I have hardly seen her since. She’s the one avoiding me. If anyone is to blame it’s her” he tried to reason with the deputy headmistress.

“Perhaps it is you who needs to extend the olive branch then. You are older and usually wiser than this Aesop. Yet when this woman is involved you resort to such childish manners and antics.” She told him.

Perhaps Matilda is right.

“How do you suggest I even do that?” He asked her.

“I had picked up some wine last time I was in Hogsmeade since I know she’s struggled to acclimate. I would like you to deliver it and perhaps you can apologize for any unsavory behavior as you both attempt to make bygones by bygones” she explained and he sighed.

“Fine. I shall take it to her” he said grabbing the bottle from her and grumbling as he began the long walk to the woman’s classroom.

When he finally made it to the secluded classroom he walked inside to find her with Ominis Gaunt and his friend Sebastian Sallow, as the three were going over material.

“This really is out of my wheelhouse Mr. Sallow, you really should reach out to Professor Sharp on your potion related questions. I am quite dreadful at them -“ she admitted and upon hearing her words he straightened up as he cleared his throat.

“What is it Mr. Sallow?” He asked, startling them all as the three heads turned around towards his direction.

Aesop watched as the boys eyes darted from his to the other professor and she gave the brunette a reassuring nod before he relented.

“I needed more practice with some of the seventh year brews. I want to make sure my application to the Auror program is perfect and there’s a few potions I am really struggling to master. Anne was always the potioneer, not me” he admitted aloud.

“Perhaps if you stayed out of detention you would have more time to work on honing your craft-“ he started as the woman gave him an angered stare over the two students head.

“If you can manage to stay out of detention Mr. Sallow, then perhaps I might find myself staying after hours on the rare occasion to go over some of these particular brews” he further explained as shock crossed the young man’s face.

“I- thank you Professor Sharp” he said. Aesop nodded at the boy before turning towards the professor.

“Might I have a word?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Perhaps you boys can swing by after dinner for me to go over this again? I appreciate you both recounting in better detail about your… experience” she said softly as the boys nodded and left her.

Before Sharp had an opportunity to speak she closed the door to her classroom, muttering out “thank you”. The words held just as much vulnerability as the day she’d last spoken them.

“What for?”

“For offering to help young Mr. Sallow” she explained.

“You mean to thank me for doing my job?” He asked.

“Working after hours to help a student isn’t necessary.” She reasoned.

“No I suppose it isn’t. Yet you find yourself helping him” sharp pointed out.

“I dare say he was helping me more than I’ve helped him…” she explained sadly and instead of pressing he merely reached into his enchanted long coats pocket to retrieve the bottle and the reason he had hobbled up here.

“Matilda asked me to bring this” he said bluntly.

“Oh, thank you. If I’d known she left it with you I’d have stopped by on my way to the library so you didn’t have to walk all the way here-“

“I am not incapable” he responded curtly.

“I - I know that. I still feel guilty you walked all the way here on my behalf” she explained.

“It wasn’t entirely on your behalf” he explained.

“What do you mean?”

“How else would I have offered to tutor Mr. Sallow?” He asked rhetorically.

“What really bringing you here?” She asked skeptically.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. To be frank I’ve been worried with the lack of fire and brimstone exploding about the castle in your small form” he explained and she scoffed.

“I can assure you I’m fine-“

“You know, your eyes tell a different story” he explained as the words slipped through his lips before he could stop them.

Expecting her to be angry he was almost taken aback when her cheeks flushed red before she swallowed hardly and the fear in her eyes was replaced by that fire he knew.

“Perhaps you should spend less time worrying over my eyes” she said, turning to go up to her office, bottle in hand.

“Unlikely when they so often contain daggers seeking to strike me down” he told her as she scoffed.

“The door is behind you Sharp” she called over her shoulder as she entered her office at the back of the classroom and he couldn’t help but smile as he heard the small smirk in her voice.

——————-

It wasn’t that much later when he heard it. The smooth melodic sound filled the hall leading to his classroom as his ears perked like a dog discovering something.

Rushing to stand he begun hearing voices as well.

“Hurry Ominis!” He recognized the voice of Sebastian Sallow just before the fellow Slytherin called out.

“I’m doing the best I can, she is heavier than she looks and I’m walking blind without my wand” the boy hissed.

Both voices were nearly drowned out by the sound that had caught his attention in the first place: laughter.

Sweet, rich, deep laughter.

Unlike anything he heard before he quickly flung open his office door to see both the young men with their arms holding up the poor unfortunate woman.

Her body writhed as the uncontrollable laugher continued to pour past her lips and her cheeks collected the tears that spilled from her eyes. And although she was laughing he could see it there: anger in her eyes.

“What in Merlin’s name?” He asked as he begun searching for it. He knew he had Glumbumble somewhere in his stores. Treacle could relief the laughing potion she’d obviously been slipped.

“We came back after dinner and found her like this we swear professor. She couldn’t move. She has likely been this way for hours” Sebastian explained as he set the woman down on one of the desks, holding her up the best he could as she continued to lean forward, doubling over.

Professor Sharp watched as the other Slytherin stood nearby, anxiety plastered on his features as he turned to him.

“Mr Sallow I need you to help me find the antidote. This is a perfect opportunity to practice some of that potions knowledge. What plant causes uncontrollable laughter?” He asked, gently guiding the shoulders of Ominis towards the woman to hold her upright as he took the opportunity to educate.

“Uh… alihosty sir” Sebastian said after a moment of thinking.

“Good. And what plant reverses the effects of Alihosty?” He asked.

“It’s…” the boy looked back over his shoulder at the young professor who was still crying through the laughter and suddenly his eyes lit up. “Glumbumble!” Sebastian said quickly taking off in the direction of the store room and grabbing a vial.

“Mr. Gaunt this shouldn’t take long, but please do not let our friend here fall to the floor” he explained as he begun instructing Sebastian through brewing the potion.

What the students and the woman didn’t know, was that he had the potion already brewed in his office for such emergencies. And his intentions hadn’t been in the vain of education either. He simply wanted to keep hearing the woman’s laughter, as it was the closest he’d been to seeing her happy since she arrived. Something about it warmed his heart despite the horrible situation that had brought about it.

It wasn’t long before he had the potion and was forcing the young men out since it was nearing curfew. Both of them looked sad as he slammed his classroom door in their faces without knowledge of their new favorite professor’s condition.

Walking back towards her, he knew she likely couldn’t hold the vial on her own, so he steadied her face with one hand, leaning her cheek back until she was looking upward. Gently bringing his thumb to holding her lips open, the sound of laughter still filling the air, he tipped it back, as he quickly used his hand to close her mouth so she could swallow them removing himself.

Her skin had been much warmer than he had anticipated but he knew that once the potion took effect she’d been out for blood. Not that he could entirely blame her. He would be furious in her shoes as well. Whoever it was that slipped her a laughing poison was going to get an earful from him.

Walking into his office he anticipated her lashing simple due to him being the only person around to receive it. After a few seconds just that happened.

“This is a new low even for you Sharp!” She said storming in behind him as she wrapped her arms around her sore abdomen.

“I’m not following. I’m the one who just helped you” he explained.

“After you poisoned me” she scoffed.

“How on earth would I even do that?” He asked and she raised a brow.

“The wine!” She shouted and suddenly he remembered that Matilda had him deliver the bottle. But there’s no way the woman would’ve slipped a new professor a laughing potion, certainly not one that strong.

Regardless he still responded in anger to the accusation. “How dare you accuse me of such. I would never dare slip something into a young woman’s drink” he seethed at her insinuation despite knowing she had every right to question it. It didn’t stop his stubbornness from taking over.

She stepped further until their chests were nearly pressed together as she poked her finger into his lapel and continued “you haven’t liked me the moment I arrived. You have made my time here miserable. You were the one who gave me the poisoned wine. It’s not looking good for you Aesop” she spat and he immediately felt his blood begin to pump at hearing her use his first name and not his surname for the first time.

“Say it again” he said as he stared down at her. That inferno he so deeply coveted in her eyes burning more than it ever had as he told her to repeat it.

The young woman mistook his request to mean the accusation as she once again repeated it, this time with the additional words “you don’t want me as an enemy Aesop”

At hearing her venomed usage of his name he growled, stepped forward once more as she continued to hold her ground.

“You are so insufferable gorgeous when you are angry you know that?!” He nearly screamed at her, watching as confusion crossed her features. Her brow softened before once again her expression hardened.

“I hardly think it matters at the current moment Sharp-“ she started and he stopped her, as his body seemingly reacted before his brain could process. Grabbing the young woman’s waist he gripped her tightly, hauling her into him as he stared her down.

“Of course it matters” he told her through clenched teeth and once again he saw her waiver. She tried to step back and he tightened his hold once more as she looked up at him.

“Aesop-“ her tone much softer and nervous than it was previously as she had said his name and he finally let go of the tense of his forearms, loosening his hold on her.

“If you want to go you’re free to” he told her as he allowed her the ability to remove herself from his arms.

Suddenly as if putting together all the pieces he realized that perhaps he hadn’t been so angry at her presence. It wasn’t frustration at her antics. It was lust driving him to act this way. This is why he felt the need to take her portrait from the room of requirement. This was why he always harassed her to get a rise. As he came to putting together the pieces, it seemed she did so as well.

No longer behaving like a brute he reached a hand up to cup her cheek as gently as he could.

Your laughter has got to be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but he quickly became aware as the young woman’s lips met his harshly. Soon he was walking backwards to his desk, her hands pulling his hair as he clutched her waist.

The sudden movement caused him to almost fall over as he wasn’t expecting it and she actually giggled as their kiss broke and he caught himself on his desk. Sliding up as he sat slightly, she pressed herself into his tall frame and resumed their kiss as he tried to wrap his mind around the exchange.

A part of him knew they should stop. Despite being after hours anyone could walk in and this was hardly appropriate. However finally kissing the woman he’d been so entranced by all year superseded his rationale.

Aesop nipped at the young woman’s lip as she eagerly opened her mouth so their tongues could unify themselves in a dance. At the feeling of her warm appendage against his own he couldn’t help but groan as he placed his large hand against the small curve of her waist.

Soon she broke apart, breathless as she looked up at him with a confused mix of emotions.

“Where is this heading?” She asked him as she gripped his jackets lapel in one hand and steadied herself against him with the other.

“Do you wish to stop?” He asked, wanting confirmation she truly did want this as it wouldn’t be right to force himself upon such a woman.

“No it’s just…” she trailed off and he leaned forward, seeking her eyes as he saw an unreadable look within their depths.

“What is it?” He asked her gently, his hand taking root along her cheek as he sought out an answer.

“I just do not wish for you to grow soft simply because, well, whatever this is” she frustratingly said and he took a moment to process her words before realizing that she enjoyed the banter, she enjoyed the frustration. She enjoyed his fire.

Chuckling darkly he pulled her closer this time with much more of the force he had used initially and told her “I can assure you that I am hardly soft at the moment…” he said, knowing that while crossing the line or crass she would probably enjoy such a statement.

The return of that glint in her eyes being confirmation.

“Turn around” he told her as he let her go.

“What?” She asked.

“Turn around” he repeated as she arched an eyebrow. Suddenly a smirk crossed her face and just as he had reignited the spark in her eyes she lit his own by bringing the immature routine back to the forefront.

“I’m not sure…” she teased and he once again reached forward, grabbing her hips as he forced her to face his desk, loving the sound of the chuckle passing through her lips at his rough nature.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it” he hissed in her ear and he felt the small tremor run up her spine as she pressed herself into him without responding it.

“Do you understand?” He asked her and she didn’t respond at first but when he bit her earlobe and she once again pushed herself back into his dominating frame she shook her head yes.

“Yes…” she whispered and she chuckled in her ear after gently licking the place he had bit.

“Yes what…?” He asked her.

“Yes sir..?” She asked him, unsure that’s what he wanted to hear.

“Aesop” he told her as he slowly reached a hand down to start lifting her long skirt upwards. At this her hips bucked slightly and he smirked as he watched her hands go down to help him lifting the thick material over her waist.

“I’ve got it…” he cooed as she dropped her hands and let him lift the skirt up.

“Yes sir” she whispered and he pushed her forward slightly.

“Try again” he told her and she hitched her breath, contemplating for a moment before she once again said “yes sir”

This caused him to push her forward, her bottom only covered now by undergarments as her skirt had been pushed over her waist. Her stomach laid flat on the desk as he bent her over his workspace. Once again leaning down into her ear, he frustratingly said “you’re such a brat” through clenched teeth as he reached a hand back to begin unbuckling his trousers while holding her lower back.

The girl let out a slight whine at his taunting as her hips bucked backwards seeking his.

“You want this don’t you? Want me to take you over my desk? Teach you a lesson?” He asked as he finally removed himself from his trousers and underclothes as he pushed them down to his knees.

His cock stood upright between them and he waited for her to continue.

“Yes…” she said as her cheek laid flat upon his desk.

Slowly he began to slip her underclothes down her thighs, revealing the globes of her ass to him as he reached around to feel if she was aroused. Sure enough his finger easily slid into her hole, coated in her wetness.

“Yes what?” He once again asked

“Yes Aesop” she whispered and as a reward for being such a good girl he pulled her into his frame as he shoved himself inside.

The young woman let out a shrill noise as he easily plunged within her walls, holding her close as he began to buck in and out of her.

“So perfect” he praised her as she continued to push herself back the best she could, trying to produce friction for the both of them to enjoy.

The lewd sounds filling the air as his body continued to make contact with hers. The slapping of bare skin against bare skin and the wet squelching of her cunt taking his cock mixed with the sounds of their joined moaning.

For the first time in years Aesop Sharp felt as if he was burning alive in the best possible way.

The woman’s cries growing louder and louder as he slapped his hand over her mouth while pounding into her harder.

“Shhhhh… wouldn’t want anyone to find you with my cock buried within you now would we?” He asked her as she shook her head and he let go, watching over her shoulder as the woman took her bottom lip between her teeth and continued the muffled sounds.

Suddenly the grip on his manhood began to grow more intense as she seemingly grew closer and closer to release, him climbing right along side of her.

“That’s right, keep taking me” he praised and she sighed, rolling her head back against his shoulder as he fought to hold them both up. Her hips began to move uncontrollably as he held on, his hand firmly against her waist as he tried to steady her wonton movements.

“Let go my little spitfire…” he told her and with that she let out a shrill noise and sobbed as she collapsed back on his desk. Not even a second later he exploded within her, his cock painting a masterpiece inside her inner walls as he flooded her with release, before collapsing onto her back.

His nose found the skin of her nape as he caught his breath and removed himself so he wouldn’t crush her. Almost like an injured animal she pushed herself up and pulled her skirt back down as he tucked himself back into his pants.

They both looked to one another as the list filled moment wore off but the smell of sex continued to linger in the room.

“I apologize” he said after a moment, shake filling him as he realized what he had done.

“For?” She asked as she placed a hand to her forehead.

“For how ive acted all year. I’ve provoked you instead of being honest about how I felt… also that was wildly inappropriate” he admitted.

“It was inappropriate… but I quite enjoyed it” she admitted with a smirk as she turned to him.

Reaching forward she put an arm around his shoulder tentatively as he looked at her in shock before he put his hand on the small of her back.

“Well… I would be lying if I say I also didn’t enjoy that” he admitted. The young woman turned to face him as she smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes. She looked at him, her eyes searching his dark ones for something before she whispered out, “did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” His eyebrows drew as he spoke.

“what you said… about my laugh?” She asked him and he smiled as he unwound himself from her affections to walk over to a small chest in his office, grabbing a vial before handing it to her.

Upon reading its contents she gasped then turned to him with the annoyed gleam in her eye he’d grown to enjoy as she smacked his shoulder.

“I knew you had one brewed!” She snapped as he laughed.

“You wanted me to teach young Sallow… it’s partly your fault…” he explained as she set down the vial on his desk and groaned into his neck while he began to laugh harder.

“You are still a pig you know that?” She said into his skin as he pulled her tighter, knowing that whatever this was blossoming into was quite lovely….

Aesop Sharp did allow the woman to take out her frustrations over the already brewed remedy as she bounced on his cock in his desk chair while refusing to allow him to grab her unclothed breasts like he wanted. Not that he’d complain.

—————————

As the pair of them slipped into the faculty tower that night they were met with the sight of one Professor Weasley outside the door with her nephew.

“My nephew would like to apologize for trying to test a laughing brew on a wine he didn’t realize was meant to be a gift” she spoke sternly as she held the boys shoulders.

Aesop simply looked to the boy and back at the slightly dishelved young woman with a shrug before turning towards Matilda to say “accidents happen, everything was alright. Don’t you agree Miss?” He asked the young witch accompanying him.

“It’s alright Garreth. That’s quite a powerful brew. Compliments” she said turning to leave.

Matilda watched as the two professors slipped inside the faculty tower before she turned to her nephew and passed him a few galleons.

“finally see those two… resolved their differences. Thank you garreth” she told him before pushing him off the stairs to his own common room. As she walked by the newest staff members quarters she tried not to smile as she heard the muffled conversation between the woman and Professor Sharp about going to Hogsmeade that weekend.

They really do say that laughter is the best medicine… and in this case perhaps the remedy…

THE END

#hogwarts legacy #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp #professor sharp #professor aesop sharp #sharpuary #enemies to lovers #angry idiots in love #I apologize for this unedited mess

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muzzzzle · 6 months

Text

I don't know this new 'you' yet, Nancy | Audio

My dearest @medaris generated and edited an art for yet another scene for the first part of the VT fanfic finale! I have missed the last two chapters’ aesthetics and I don’t think I’ll go through with them, but I just can’t have this scene missed, so here it is, with the little audio I've made and the extract from the fic of course.

The tune changed, and Nancy noticed out of the corner of her eye that the small groups were beginning to break into pairs. The awkward triangle she found herself in was beginning to press even harder.

“Solomon, I hope you'll forgive me if I steal Miss Montgomery away from you for one dance?” suddenly she heard a voice from the side, almost choking on wine.

Sallow Senior cocked an eyebrow, but nodded briefly in agreement, casting one last squinted glance at her, and left. Aesop, muttering something, picked up the rapidly diminishing cane with ease and placed it in his pocket, straightening up and extending his hand forward in an inviting gesture.

“I hope you won’t deny me the pleasure, Miss Montgomery?” Now that they were alone together, Nancy heard again the familiar tingle in his voice, the same tingle that had made her lose her head and throw herself into the deep end.

The girl shifted her questioning gaze to the ex-Auror's injured leg.

“I wouldn't want to strain you with unnecessary movements, sir," she replied politely, raising her eyes to his again.

“You don't have to worry about that, Nancy, let me feel younger for just a moment," his wide-open palm was still outstretched towards her and the Gryffindor hesitantly dipped her fingers into it, sending her glass off to the nearest passing tray.

He was still considerably taller — she barely reached the top of his nose with her head. She put her hand on his shoulder and he gently squeezed her waist, the warmth of his palm instantly penetrating the thin silk fabric. Even without pressing close to him, she could smell the almost forgotten bitter-smoky scent. He led her slowly but confidently, seeming as if he were about to pick her up by the waist and lift her into the air — so effortless his movements were.

“I didn't think I'd see you here today, Miss Montgomery," he said softly, tilting his head and squeezing her hand tighter. “I confess you took me by surprise.”

“I didn't think you could dance like that," Nancy replied in tone. “With your injury.”

“It's been with me for too long, I think I can manage one dance," Sharp grinned. “You look stunning, Miss Montgomery, my House colours suit you very much.”

“Thank you, but it was a mere coincidence. You and your ex-colleague are on the same page, though; he seems to be just as sentimental about school memories," Montgomery said, irritated.

“Well, I suppose sentimentality is common at my age. I didn't mean to offend you," Aesop lowered his gaze to her and smiled fondly. “You've changed a lot in the three years since graduation, Nancy, and you seemed warmer towards Hogwarts before.”

“I was just an overly enthusiastic, naive girl, no surprise there.”

“I liked that girl," he admitted so easily and disarmingly that the Gryffindor nearly stepped on his foot.

It was as if a charge travelled from his fingers to her waist, making her chest heave nervously. His words caught a deep boil, Nancy looked up at him defiantly and lifted her chin, lips tight.

“So you don't like me anymore?” She asked, playing.

An actively circling couple suddenly came upon them from behind, and Sharp, saving the girl from collision, pressed her harder against him. She had no time to realise what had happened but hurried to pull away as soon as they were at a safe distance.

“I don't know this new ‘you’ yet, Nancy," he replied, his velvet gaze sliding over her cheekbones.

“Well, that's true," she was the first to avert her eyes.

As the tune came to an end, the dancing couples let go of each other and, out of breath but quite satisfied, began to applaud. Sharp, sliding his fingers along the thin silk of her waist, released the former student and brought her fingers, clasped in his other hand, to his lips, leaving a weightless kiss on them.

“I am eternally grateful to you, Miss Montgomery. And I was delighted to see you. Have a nice evening!”

He bowed gallantly and, taking out the reduced cane, returned it to its former size. Nancy, exhaling, hurried away from the epicentre of the gathering of guests, but followed his broad back with a glance. Before he was out of sight, she saw a vial gleam in his hand as he tipped the contents into himself and ducked behind a huge column. Montgomery did not see him or Solomon again for the rest of the evening.

#volatile times fanfic #aesop sharp #aesop sharp x mc #professor sharp #nancy montgomery #aesop sharp audio #aesop sharp ai

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mrs-sharp · 1 month

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Professor Sharp helping me with my studies - the scene:

Vs. what I see:

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp x mc #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #wizarding world #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter franchise #harry potter fandom #daddy sharp

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julietpricee · 3 months

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MC being deep: I usually solve problems by letting them devour me

Horny Aesop: From now on call me ‘Problems’

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #aesop sharp x mc #daddy sharp #hogwarts #harry potter hogwarts game #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x mc #professor sharp smut #professor sharp x reader

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animasola86 · 30 days

Note

I had the idea of facesitting with professor sharp but reader (or mc idk what you prefer) is hesitant

Thank you for the ask! I went a little overboard with this (as I often do), and I apologize for whatever I made this fine gentleman do, but I hope you still enjoy! (If anyone would like to request me with anything as well, please go on ahead! My asks are open!)

Fountain of Youth

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!mc

Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 4.2k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: Aesop Sharp has tried everything to soothe the aches of his battered body, and nothing seems to work, but then he comes across a well of youth in the form of a young lover who is willing to feed him everything he's ever wanted, and more.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Established student/teacher relationship. Size difference. Age gap. Oral sex. Facesitting. Fingering.

Fountain of Youth

They say having a young lover is good for body and soul, and he couldn't agree more. When Aesop Sharp decided to throw caution to the wind and indulge in a rather unusual and certainly forbidden kind of affair, he knew he'd do anything to keep his girl entertained. Not that she ever demanded it, no, she was far from requesting anything, she was the most selfless person he had ever met, and most of the time she was doing everything to keep him happy.

And how happy he was when she would indulge him. It had taken him a while to accept her generous offers, but now he couldn't live without them, without her, be it bouncing on his lap, hidden between his thighs under his desk, or simply pressed against him in bed, deeply connected.

And he wanted to give back, but the state of his body often forbade any activity that was more than sliding his cock into her tight heat. It pained him, literally and mentally, that he couldn't indulge her the same way she did him.

She didn't mind, of course. And she never complained, not even when she left his office or bedroom with a limp because her body had struggled to accommodate the immense size difference between them. She was so tiny in his arms, to be fair he was a giant amongst humans, figuratively, and still she seemed to thrive on it, embrace it and him whenever she could, no matter how much pain he caused her.

Then again she must be some sort of masochist if she spent her time with him rather than with the other seventh-years. He was still a grumpy old man most of the time, even though he wasn't that old, but next to her he did feel his age sometimes.

And yet they connected somehow, not just physically. He felt drawn to her, felt his heart beat faster when he saw her, when she smiled at him. When she'd touch him, his skin would tingle and his sore muscles warmed in anticipation, whether her small hands would massage them or not.

She radiated warmth, inside and out, and while he was very fond of feeling her tight little sheath envelop him in a perfect fit, he also enjoyed holding her small body in his arms, pressed to his chest, breathing in her lovely scent. And it didn't stop there, a smile, a look, a stolen glance across the classroom, and he felt at least five years younger when a strange sensation of heat gathered in his guts.

And somehow, he wanted more, wanted all of her.

One day, she was sitting on a shelf in his hidden hobby room and watched him whittle. She said she loved seeing him work with his hands, and while he knew she also loved having the same hands all over her body and his fingers knuckles deep in her cute little cunt, he also appreciated it when she observed him while he engaged in one of his other hobbies, apart from indulging her. He spent most of his free time sketching landscapes (or more recently her) or doing a little woodwork to keep his hands nimble (for her).

A little sigh escaped her, and he looked up at her, perched on the high ledge of the sturdy shelf, right next to one of those wooden dolls he sometimes made to gift (or scare) his colleagues. At least Abraham seemed to like them, while Mirabel seemed utterly scared by them. And his young lover certainly enjoyed their company too. He'd often catch her re-arranging them behind his back, telling him they must have moved on their own, and to be fair, sometimes he did think they had a mind of their own.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asked and put the tools down, patiently smiling up at her.

“Yes, everything's fine,” she said quietly as she shifted on the shelf, her feet dangling off. He noticed that her skirt had ridden up slightly and her blouse was halfway unbuttoned, and by the way she pressed her thighs together, he knew everything was definitely not fine. A knowing smile grazed his lips.

He stood up with a groan, straightened the old bones, and walked closer to her. At his height, his eye level was right between her legs, and he didn't hesitate to push them apart to stand closer to her. Inhaling deeply to take in her scent, and oh the sweet scent she was emanating, he quickly found the cause of it too: she wasn't wearing any underwear. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and watched him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Her hands found his head, fingers caressing his hairline and scalp, and he tilted it to look up at her.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered gravelly, wiping sawdust from his hands before he hooked his arms around her legs to caress her soft thighs.

She licked her lips, a shy blush blooming on her cheeks. “I...”

“Use your words, darling.”

His deep voice caused her to shiver, and he felt the goosebumps as they rippled over her bare skin. While she still struggled to tell him what she needed (even though he already knew it quite well, but he liked to tease her a little every now and then), he leaned his cheek against the inside of her thigh, his beard rubbing against her flesh, and she keened softly.

He eyed her closely, patiently. When she finally spoke, her words made him shiver for a change.

“I want you to taste me,” she whispered, holding his gaze, and he saw that her pupils were blown with lust.

Giving her a warm smile, he turned his head and pressed his lips to her inner thigh. Then once more, and again, kiss after kiss until he reached her heat, and how warm she was. Warm and wet. His good little girl. He kept his hands on her legs, holding them open while he leaned closer, his eyes still on her flushed face as he took a deep breath, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. She shuddered visibly, biting her lip in a way that was both cute and sensual, which she knew drove him crazy.

Breathing a little rougher against her sensitive skin, he planted soft kisses along her lower stomach, moved back to her thighs, teased her by slowly inching closer to her folds. He took his sweet time, leaving a trail of fire along her soft flesh, and while she was squirming slightly on the shelf, growing impatient, he smirked to himself before he put his mouth to the hidden little bundle of nerves – and she gasped and jerked her hips against him.

He held her in a tight grip while he flicked his tongue up and down her nub, feeling it throb against him, while her wetness gathered between her folds. She had her hands on her mouth to muffle her noises, and he only needed to throw her a dark glance, tsking into her heat, and she lowered them, face fully flushed, lips quivering.

Leaning back only a little, he rasped: “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

She nodded obediently, grabbing the edges of the shelf instead to steady herself. Her arms were shaking. Smiling at her, he focused back on her pretty little pussy. Kissing her mound, he returned to her clit, gently licking it, nibbling on it, and when he pulled it between his lips, she squeaked and squirmed in his hold, her thighs twitching against him.

More mewls escaped her when he started lapping along her lower lips, gathering her wetness on his tongue, tasting her, and he closed his eyes when he took it all in, her scent, her warmth, that sweet, sweet taste. He seldom indulged her like this, eating her out was not the best on his sore joints and muscles, his stiff leg always getting in the way of his enjoyment, but she sometimes found positions to make it easier for him.

He continued moving his tongue through her slit, parting those soft lips, nibbling on them, pulling them into his mouth, while she whimpered softly, her body twitching slightly. When he rubbed his stubbled chin against her soft skin, she gasped and let out a sweet little moan, and his eyes flew open as he watched her arch her head back, neck exposed, hair falling over her shoulders, eyes rolling back in delight.

She loved having his beard all over her, the sound alone, she said, could drive her right over the edge, and she would sometimes just move her fingers over his rough cheeks and mewl quietly while doing so. So he indulged her and scraped his chin along her inner thighs before pressing it to her clit and slowly shaking and nodding his head, feeling the convulsions before the moans left her pretty mouth.

He watched her closely, taking in every single reaction to his ministrations. She was close, he could tell, shivers and shudders and goosebumps rolling over her limbs, and instead of teasing her further, he returned his mouth to her clit, giving it a few hard sucks, and she unravelled right in front of him, shrieking softly when she came. He put his mouth to her folds and lapped at her wetness, gulping it down like a man parched, his tongue moving between her lips and dipping into her quivering cunt, her contractions clenching around the soft muscle as he pushed it deeper into her.

She moaned louder, the feeling of his stubble must be overwhelming for her as he pressed his face to her heat, his hands tightening around her legs as she started convulsing on the shelf. She came again, her noises echoing through the small room, filling his ears as much as her taste filled his mouth. He licked up her slick with long broad strokes, from her clenching hole to her throbbing clit, his own deep groans vibrating through her core, adding to the sensation he was sure.

Her hands gripped his hair then as she bucked her hips against his face, mewling and moaning, barely able to contain herself. He held her in his iron grip, fingers digging into her soft thighs, possibly leaving bruises at this point, but he kept going, addicted to her taste, to her juices, and she was very generous tonight.

Eventually he slowed his ministrations, gently kissing her puffy lips, giving her clit one last lick, before he leaned back, loosening his arms around her legs to bring one hand to her mound, softly rubbing it to calm her.

She was a quietly whimpering mess, her lips parted and quivering, her eyes hooded and exhausted as she finally came down from the highs he had given her. He grabbed her waist and lifted her off the shelf, gently cradling her in his arms as she leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled contently.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely.

He smiled back and brought his wet lips to hers, and despite her spent state, she grabbed his face and returned the kiss in full, tasting herself in his mouth as her tongue slipped between his lips to meet his own. He carried her to the table and sat her down gently, still glued to her mouth, savouring her sweet taste, before he leaned back and sighed deeply. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he hummed softly and whispered: “No, thank you.”

She watched him with her cheeks burning when he returned to his woodworking, feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on anything.

Like with any good, fulfilling beverage, he soon felt its effect dwindling, and after a couple of days, he was lying in bed, cuddled up to his young lover, and felt every sore muscle and strain and ache almost tenfold. He could barely move, and even though he never told her that he was in pain, she seemed to notice it nonetheless and tried her best to keep his body as relaxed as possible.

Right now, she had her small hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it expertly while she planted soft kisses on his broad chest, and he just lay on his back, not even able to raise a hand to return her touches. Clenching his jaw, he watched her, his eyes roaming her beautiful body, every curve and bump and hollow, taking it all in, how her breasts moved with every deep intake of air, how goosebumps rippled over her skin when he would hum or groan under the surprisingly strong grip of her hand.

He felt his stomach tighten when she moved her little mouth to nibble on the bulging veins on his shaft, her warm tongue lapping at his hot skin, cooling and warming it simultaneously. His breaths quickened, and he closed his eyes when he felt her lips closing around his tip, gently sucking on it, her tongue flicking against his slit.

Slowly he moved his hand up, his arm shaking slightly, and put it on her thigh, fingers closing around it almost fully. She leaned back and met his hooded gaze, licking her lips. Her eyes were warm and kind, a soft smile grazing that full, wet mouth. He tilted his chin up, giving her a little nod, and she crawled towards him and kissed his cheek, watching him closely, careful not to put any weight on him.

“Tell me what to do,” she whispered, her fingers rubbing along his stubbled jaw.

“I need to taste you again,” he said gruffly, his voice hoarse and strained.

She looked a little conflicted, wondering what to do. He wasn't capable of moving much, and she knew that. He was also about to ask something of her they had never done before, but he knew she wouldn't shy away from it, she was usually very open with trying anything new with him. She was a great student, and he had taught her well.

“Sit on my face,” he said bluntly and noticed how her eyes widened.

“Are you sure? Won't that hurt you?” she whispered, biting her lip.

“It'll be fine,” he rasped.

“H-how do you w-want me to... sit?” she asked quietly, her voice shaking.

He fought the strain in his arms and raised them to place his hands on her waist and guide her towards him. “Sit on my chest, then lean on your knees, facing the headboard. Grab it if you like, to keep your balance.”

She hesitated, but then slowly did as he told her, swinging her leg over him and positioned her knees on either side of his head, her expression still uncertain. Without him mentioning it, she kept her entire weight off him as she leaned on her knees, her beautiful cunt hovering right over his mouth. Her scent was intoxicating. His eyes roamed every inch of her sex, and by the way she squirmed, her legs trembling, he knew she was a little uncomfortable with him staring at her like that.

“You're beautiful,” he told her, his eyes moving up to meet hers. She leaned back slightly to be able to see him, a shy smile grazing her lips. His hands rested on the curve of her rear, gently pulling her closer, and she strained her thighs and followed the hint, gently pressing her folds to his face. A surprised mewl escaped her when his beard rubbed against her soft skin. He inhaled deeply, feeling her shuddering on top of him as he did so.

Pulling her even closer so he wouldn't have to strain his neck, he pressed his lips to her labia before his tongue darted out and licked along her slit. Her taste immediately filled his mouth, her little whimpers filled his ears, and when he closed his eyes, he lost himself in her completely. Lapping at the wetness gathering between her folds, he felt his body relaxing beneath her, his sore muscles warming, and he was able to really grip her plump arse cheeks, kneading them as he sucked and nibbled on her soft lips, pulling them between his teeth and into his mouth, coaxing all the sweet sounds out of her throat.

While he laved her wet skin, his nose kept brushing against her clit, and instinctively or not, she writhed against him, moving lower until he was able to give that sensitive bundle of nerves the same treatment as her folds. She moaned when he sucked on it, his tongue flicking against it, rolling it, and the more he abused her little nub, the more wetness seeped against his chin.

She was still only hovering above him, straining her thighs, her arms outstretched to hold onto the headboard to steady herself. Always so considerate of him. He adored her for it, but he needed her to really engage here, so he could really engage her.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” he hummed against her clit, licking it gently. She squirmed and moaned quietly, tensing on top of him.

“I don't want to hurt you,” she managed to croak out between breaths.

“You won't,” he assured her, his hand tightening around her bum to push her down on him. She still fought it, shuddering under the exertion. “Come on, darling, indulge me.”

She let out a shuddering breath, then slowly lowered herself. It wasn't that she weighed a lot, she barely weighed anything in his eyes, she was just a soft little creature made of sunshine and smiles after all, but when she finally sat down on his face, he felt it. Her lower lips parted around his mouth, and she shivered when his beard rubbed against her sensitive skin. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent, feeling dizzy for a moment, a sensation that wasn't unpleasant at all, before he let his tongue dart out and lap at her soft skin, her wetness basically seeping into his mouth now.

His grunt against her sex made her squeak softly, and she seemed to really force herself not to move against him, still afraid she might hurt or suffocate him. But he had never felt better. He kissed and licked her inner folds, his tongue teasingly dipping into her clenching hole while his nose rubbed against her clit. Her mewls shuddered through her entire body, and he closed his eyes and pushed deeper, his tongue pressing past her entrance, licking at her soft walls.

She started twitching, her noises tumbling out of her uncontrollably, her wetness gathering on his tongue and his lips, and he barely managed to lap it all up before she gave him more. His fingers dug into her soft bum cheeks, teasing along the cleft between them, before he moved them back and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her open as she started to clamp her legs together in anticipation of her approaching release.

Her arms fell from the headboard and rested next to his head, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, as her hips bucked against his face, and despite never having done this before, she was as usual a quick learner and despite her initial inhibitions not too shy to engage as well instead of letting him do all the work. While he lapped at her folds, sucking and nibbling, drinking up her juices, his groans mixing with muffled slurping and squelching sounds, she slowly gyrated her pelvis against his face, her moans so soft they soothed the aches in his body almost as much as her wetness running down his throat.

He felt light-headed, nearly delirious when her taste and scent took over everything else, and when her movements on top of him grew harder and faster, he let her ride it out, use his face to get her where she wanted to go, and all he could do was lap up her juices, his tongue alternating between stimulating her clit and dipping into her clenching cunt.

The moment stretched forever, and frankly, he could have lived in it for just as long, but then she gasped, spasmed, and cried out loudly as she forced her heat firmer against his mouth, really suffocating him now, before she arched her back and lifted herself only slightly, allowing him to breathe and get a perfect view of how she came undone right on top of him.

Her clit throbbed visibly, her glistening pussy fluttering, and before she could shower him in her juices, he had pressed her heat against his mouth, holding her closely as she convulsed against him, mewls and moans slipping from her, and he lapped and slurped up every single drop she gave him. She collapsed on top of him, spent and limp, her body heavy on his face, but he felt the effect immediately as her warmth filled his stomach.

Using his elbows to push himself up, he rolled her around, carefully placing her down before he grabbed her thighs and dove between them once more, the soreness of his body gone almost completely. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he wanted to make the best of it. She was sprawled on the bed, arms beside her head, legs twitching, chest heaving with her small breasts quivering, nipples perked up, while he lapped and nibbled at her folds, bent over her small frame.

Her taste was addictive, all-consuming, clouding his mind. He had no idea for how long he had licked her quivering cunt, but when a soft hand dug into his hair, he looked up, his dark eyes glazed over, and saw her watching him, her face flushed, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, her lips trembling. He leaned back reluctantly, but then he noticed how red and puffy her sensitive skin looked, and he could have kicked himself for not seeing it earlier. He had licked her raw.

Giving her mound a soft peck, he crawled up her body, caging her in on his hands and knees, while he looked down at her, licking his moist lips. Her small hands moved up and rubbed his cheeks, wiping her wetness from his face before she pulled him closer and kissed him softly. He shared her taste with her and breathed deeply into her mouth, slowly coming down from the high she had given him. She was dangerously intoxicating. She was his drug.

He rolled off her then, still kissing her softly, pulling her soft body against his while his hand moved along her sides until he dipped it between her thighs. Her skin was burning, radiating heat against his palm, and she winced when he touched her, but didn't fight it when he caressed her mound carefully, hoping his calloused fingers wouldn't make it worse. But her body adjusted by making her wet again, coating his fingers and her oversensitive skin.

She was a miracle.

Sighing contently, he released her mouth for a moment, looking deep into her eyes, almost getting lost in the softness of her gaze. His fingers dipped between her folds, teasing at her entrance, and she mewled quietly, her hands rubbing over his stubbled cheeks, and he could see how much the sound and his ministrations affected her as her eyes rolled back and her lips trembled and her body shuddered in nothing but bliss.

He swallowed her moans by claiming her mouth once more, pushing his tongue deep into it at the same time as he pushed two fingers into her warmth, the wet squelching sound like music in his ears. She bucked against him while he pumped his digits in and out of her, harder and faster and deeper, and when her walls clenched around him, she cried out against his lips, her thighs pressing around his hand as he stroked her through her orgasm.

It took him everything not to lean down again and lap at her juices, instead he let her wetness coat his fingers while he kissed her softly as she spasmed against him. When she relaxed in his hold, he continued to massage her soft flesh and watched her melting into the bed. Pulling his free arm around her, he held her close to his chest, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her breaths deep and soft before she slipped into unconsciousness.

His fingers remained buried inside her heat, and he was tempted to continue his ministrations, maybe even indulge in something more, use her willing body for his own release, but he refrained, ignoring the throbbing of his cock. Kissing her sweaty forehead, he snuggled against her, holding her in his arm and her cunt with his hand as he soaked his fingers in her wetness. Inhaling deeply to take in as much of her scent as possible, he closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth that radiated from her tiny body.

He might have stiff fingers and a sore wrist tomorrow, but he didn't dare to disconnect from her, from her warmth and those delicious juices, from her well of youth. He felt it rushing through his veins, like liquid fire warming his sore muscles and the aches of his battered body.

It was truly addictive.

End notes: Initially I was hesitant to write this, because I couldn't quite see Daddy Sharp here engaging in oral sex like that... but I guess, in the right positions, sure, why not! And I mean, the beard is an added bonus to that, so who wouldn't like that? XD

You know, I was never into the whole Daddy/little girl kink, I accepted it, I read smut with it, ofc, but I never felt anything but slight cringe for it... but this man, dude, why does it work so well with him? (I still refuse to let my protagonists call him Daddy though, nope, but the dynamic is growing on me!)

So, thank you for reading whatever this was! And thanks again for the request! It was really fun! (Give me more, please!)

MORE SHARP SMUT:

Scars

Peace and Comfort

A Demonstration of Power and Support

A Demonstration of Pride and Pain

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x mc #hogwarts legacy smut #professor sharp #professor sharp smut #professor sharp x mc #professor aesop sharp #fluff #smut #mysmut #daddy sharp

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