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wttcsms · 2 years

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diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?”

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features.

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year.

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age.

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment.

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence.

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with!

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes.

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore.

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”.

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan.

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.”

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either.

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!”

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession.

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud?

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now.

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you,

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.”

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty.

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence.

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.”

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience.

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is.

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry.

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze.

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him.

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back.

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes.

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway.

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you.

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway.

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens.

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.”

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.”

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even.

“Y-you’re a virgin?”

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole.

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.”

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity.

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver.

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now.

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.”

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again.

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak.

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain.

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession.

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down.

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around.

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only.

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed…

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #smut #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow smut #one shot #lemon

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aesopsharpmybeloved · 4 months

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Bound - MAJOR UPDATE

The NEWTs can be quite stressfull. Luckily, professor Sharp knows exactly how to make his young sweetheart relax a bit.

Aah, sweet sweet PWP ❤ Huge thanks to my dear friend and partner in crime @tea-withjamandbread who authored several ideas in this smutty story, and to Maarty for her continuous support 🥰

UPDATE! After I posted this two days ago, I re-read it and realised I hated it. So like 70% of it has been rewritten and almost 2k more words appeared. Oops. So it's basically a new fic 😂

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN, srsly

Bound (14.1k words)

tw: teacher-student relationship, age gap (reader is an adult), explicit sexual content, lights bdsm, light bondage, blindfolded, body shots, masturbation, oral sex, vaginal sex, comeplay, dirty talking, pwp, corn with feelings

During the NEWT exams, some classrooms were emptier than others. For example Potions and Transfiguration both held only about twenty-five students each, because of the complexity of the subjects. However, the same could not be said about the Charms classroom. The number of Seventh years who partook in the NEWTs exam in Charms was quite high every year, the subject (and its teacher) was not only popular, but universally demanded in most work fields. This year was no different. In fact, it seemed to break the record.

You felt like a thousand Galleons once you left the stuffy room. While the Charms classroom was usually a very comfortable place to be, spacious and airy, when filled with nearly sixty nervous young adults, one Hogwarts professor, and two overseers from the ministry, it got quite stifling quite fast. You were rather confident that you did well on the written part of the exam, and you weren’t particularly worried about the practical part that was scheduled for tomorrow, but you knew better than to rest on your laurels. After all, it was one of the things your beloved insisted on instilling within you. So, some extra practice it was - you were certain that he would understand why you sought the warmth of his embrace a little later than usual.

You made your way over to the Owlery to let professor Aesop Sharp know that you would take some time after supper to practise your charms up in the Room of Requirement after dinner, before coming to seek him in his chambers. The summer was blooming, and most of the students were enjoying the warm day, many of them nose deep in their books, preparing for the following exams.

After you’ve climbed the spiral staircase of the tower, you could see Diana was sitting on one of the perches, watching the other owls around her with mild interest. She hooted in greetings once you came into her field of view, and you approached her immediately, letting your finger lightly scratch under her chin. You were the only one allowed to do so for more than a few seconds.

“Hello, girl,” you said softly. A year ago, you didn’t think you’d ever get an owl. The school owls you’d use were, more or less, reliable, and you hardly needed a pet cat, seeing as there were dozens upon dozens of them roaming the castle. You weren’t exactly certain your parents would even allow you to get a pet. You weren’t certain of it even as you handed the nice gentleman a decent sum of money for the impressive greater sooty owl you fell in love with the first time you saw her in that shop. One of your greatest decisions ever, you decided.

—

Your mother nearly fainted when you returned from your international travels sporting a large cage containing the dark bird. Diana released several rather frustrated noises every now and then, less than thrilled to have to limit herself to the enclosed space.

“That thing is not staying,” Father had said after he snapped at Mother to take a hold of herself. “That thing is an owl, father,” you replied defiantly yet calmly. Mind, you knew they most likely wouldn’t be anywhere near as excited as yourself with the purchase, but you had hoped there wouldn’t be any hostility. It would seem you thought wrong. The middle aged man was rather red in the face: “I can bloody well see it’s an owl, (F/N), and it has no place here! This is one of the finest houses in Knightsbridge, not some bloody forest!” You took a deep breath. Damn it, you used the phial of Felix Felicis potion you brewed at the end of the previous term on getting your parents to agree to let you travel by yourself, and left the rest of the potion at Hogwarts. If only you were able to use Accio on it all the way from here…

“Hyde Park’s just around the corner, father. There are plenty of owls there, so it’s not like anyone would think it strange to see one more flying around. Father, please, it’s only for the following month before I go back to school, you won’t even see or hear her.”

Your father lifted a finger in the air, but before he could resume talking, your mother’s voice cut in: “Let her keep the bird, Lionel. She already paid money for it, and she’s hardly going back to Australia just to return an owl… and besides, it’s not…it’s not that bad. I hear that the DeWitt fellow from Kensington had a live falcon present at a formal evening he hosted in his house, and it was apparently a big success with the guests.”

You could hear a small tremble in your hervoice, and she was still watching the owl warily, but at that moment you could nearly hug her. Your father fumed for a few moments, his small eyes switching between Diana, your mother and yourself. Finally, he sighed, looking morosely out of the window: “Fine. But I hear one hoot in the middle of the night, I’m throwing the thing out. What a bloody waste of money…”

You hurried to your room with your new companion, before you could bite back that it was your hard earned money you spent. You didn’t want to risk your father retracting his agreement with Diana staying.

—

You grimaced somewhat at the memory, but then sent a smile Diana’s way: “Don’t you worry, girl, we’re not going back there. I rather think the freedom of the Highlands is more of your style than the busy Hyde Park, isn’t it?” The owl hooted softly, as if agreeing with you. You could hardly blame her - you now knew you were the same.

You then held up your hand, showing Diana the short letter you needed her to deliver.

“You know who it’s for,” a grin adorned your face and in Diana’s expression, you could see the owl equivalent of a good-natured eyeroll. She offered her leg to you to attach the letter to.

“You be nice to him,” you waved your forefinger in front of the owl in a cheeky warning, and she responded in kind, by gently nipping at the digit and then swiftly spreading her wings and leaping off the Owlery window, prompting you to chuckle.

You gazed after her for several minutes, lost in thought. You couldn’t believe that less than three weeks separated you from graduation.

In eighteen days, your time at Hogwarts will be over. You’ll empty your dorm room for one last time, have one last breakfast in the Great Hall as a student, and say many heartfelt farewells to the people you’ve met here over the three years. You would of course stay in contact with your closest friends, like Natty, Poppy, Sebastian and Ominis, and Amit… You’ve been through too much together, too much to just say one last goodbye and begin your lives on your own. But some of the others, like Samantha or Imelda, well, who knew when your paths would cross again.

Sebastian and Natty were both hoping to catch a job as curse breakers at Gringotts, which would offer them a chance to not only become even more capable wizards than they already were in their own rights, but also see the world, get acquainted with more wizarding cultures. Poppy would be joining her Grandmother in her research, as you knew since the day you first met the girl in Beasts class. And Amit was, along with Adelaide, joining her uncle’s business, his desire to learn more about Goblins not having died down over the years in the slightest.

And Ominis? Well, he didn’t know what he wanted to do just yet - and which employer would take him in with his condition - but he seemed happy nevertheless. Similarly to yourself, the last thing he wanted was to return to his family, and having already secured himself a different abode, the lad looked content for the time being.

However, you were certain you were one of the only ones, if not the only one to stay so close to Hogwarts. Even Sebastian planned to leave Feldcroft behind…Seeing as his once home became no more than an empty house, his uncle dead and his sister gone and refusing to speak with him, nothing but memories of his gravest mistake filling the empty rooms, you could hardly blame the Slytherin for wanting to leave it all behind.

And you? Well, you were all set up, weren’t you. A job already waiting for you, and a small house at the edge of Hogsmeade ready for you to move in. Frankly, you were quite excited at the prospect of living by yourself, setting your own rules, running your little household the way you want to, making the space yours.

Thanks to professor Weasley being the greatest (deputy) Headmistress, you had a special permission to leave the castle a few weeks back, so that you could apparate to London and get various items of furniture and such for your rented house.

And, interestingly, the Hogwarts potions master was somehow already present when you suddenly appeared in a little hidden alley a bit away from the Leaky Cauldron.

And since he was already there, he could perhaps tag along to offer advice as to which items he found appealing and appropriately priced in regards to their quality. And since the two of you were already in Diagon Alley, well, you may just as well nip round back to the Leaky Cauldron for spot of lunch, and then why not take a little stroll in some park, arms linked and bodies joined at the hip, enjoying the cool air of early summer.

In a way, it was a little taste of what things were going to be like when the two of you no longer needed to hide, when you were free to show your feelings towards one another openly. And not just that. In a way, one that you were a bit too shy to think about just yet, it was like a taste of what things were going to be like one day, when the two of you would join in a shared life permanently… And somehow, this little secret thought was what made you blush during this little encounter of yours…

Dinner itself was rather uneventful - every so often, your eyes would travel up to the High table and over to the professor. Occasionally, he was already looking back at you with a small smile on his face, sometimes he was focusing either on his own meal, or on one of his colleagues sitting next to him, chatting. However, it seemed the potions master had the ability to feel your eyes on him, for after a few seconds his head would turn your way, and his own dark eyes bore into your own.

And each time they did, you felt a little shiver run through you.

Somehow you managed to actually climb all the stairs leading onto the Seventh floor instead of immediately sneaking off into Aesop’s rooms following supper.

You made your way towards the training room that materialised in the Room of Requirement the previous year. The large chamber never ceased to amaze you with its ingenuity - as you finished your descent down the stairs, you found the room nearly empty with only one item in the middle. An item you recognised instantly - it was one of the puzzles you’d solve during the Merlin trials!

Excited, you took off your blazer and rolled up your sleeves, so as to achieve maximum mobility and comfort.

‘Flipendo ,’ you cast on the upper stone non-verbally, piecing together which way you have to turn it. And once you did, once the symbols matched, the whole thing just disappeared into thin air, leaving another object there in its stead - this time it was a broken statue, and you knew what to do immediately.

You sent spell after spell at the various items that appeared before you. You were handling yourself quite well too, being able to react quickly and send the correct enchantment. There was a brief moment of panic at one point, as the room suddenly filled up to the brim with water, which made casting the bubble head charm that much harder, but otherwise you felt confident and calm.

You only just finished casting a perfect performed Descendo upon a floating training dummy, when you were suddenly plunged into darkness. Quickly casting Lumos, you realised that you were stuck in some sort of… cavern? A stony cavern, that was for certain, and a seemingly inescapable one. A frown riddled your brow.

Stone, stone, what to do with being stuck in a stony prison?

At first, you tried to transfigure one of the rocks that seemed to be closing you in into a smaller object, which hadn’t worked. Depulso had a similarly dissatisfactory effect. Casting Bombarda or Confingo would’ve been entirely too dangerous to even try in this situation, as they would both recoil off the stone and hurt you…

It took you a few more seconds until you remembered: the Gouging charm, of course!

You pointed your wand at one of the stones again and thought as hard as you could: ‘Defodio.’ However, that didn’t seem to do the trick either. But the spell was correct! It had to be! You weren’t aware of there being a different spell you could use in this situation, and as Revelio did not reveal anything special about the stones that had you trapped, you were even more certain that the Gouging charm was the correct one… You just had to cast it right…You squeezed your jaw tighter and tried again.

‘Defodio!’

And again, nothing. Damn it!

You were beginning to feel a little nervous if you were to be honest. The space you were in was rather tight and not exactly well ventilated, and as you attempted to cast the spell again and again, drops of sweat appeared at your hairline.

“Defodio!” you cried out loud desperately, but all that followed was a light pop, as if a small pebble popped in half somewhere among the rocks.

Dear heavens…

Would the Room let you out if you couldn’t perform the spell? Or would you stay trapped inside, slowly losing precious oxygen until you suffocated? Surely not! Deek would come looking for you sooner or later certainly. He’d find you, he’d hopefully be able to get the Room to drop the spell it trapped you with. Wouldn’t he?

“Defodio,” you barely heard, the voice sounding terribly muffled. You had to actually shield your eyes as the stones around you began opening up and the light of the room hit you.

After a few seconds during which your eyes grew used to the light once more, you finally saw the source of the successfully done spell. Aesop Sharp stood some ten feet away from you, wand raised and a little concerned expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

You finally managed to catch your breath which you didn’t even realise grew so laboured and fast during your uncomfortable stay within the cavern: “Th-thank you…”

He didn’t say anything for several minutes, waiting for you to calm down, and only then he spoke, his voice soft and gentle: “Are you alright, (F/N)?”

You felt colour rush into your cheeks and embarrassment seep to your gut. Your eyes fell to the ground in shame. As if sensing your thoughts, the professor spoke again: “This is a very complicated spell, (F/N), even for many experienced wizards - there’s no point beating yourself over not being able to cast it non-verbally,” he came a little closer, and touched your shoulder with his free hand, his thumb rubbing small circles through your shirt.

“As you perhaps heard just now, I didn’t manage to cast it verbally either,” you replied, your voice quiet. Goodness, and here you were, feeling so bloody confident about the practical exam… What if this spell appeared among those you’ll be examined from? What if you fail then like you failed just now? Could one spell ruin the entire exam?

“Darling, whatever you’re thinking right now, stop,” Aesop spoke, his large warm hand sliding down your arm until it reached your own hand, and curled around it soothingly: “not being to perform the spell non-verbally several times coupled with being very much stuck inside a pile of rocks is not exactly good on the psyche - I bet by the time you decided to speak the spell out loud, you weren’t nearly as focused on the correct hand movements as before, were you?”

You didn’t say anything. He was right, though - during your last attempt to cast the spell verbally, you were sort of just wildly flailing your arm rather than doing the short, jerky wrist movement that the spell required.

“Let’s try something…” Aesop said, and then stored his wand away. He moved to stand behind you, wrapping his left arm around your waist and taking a hold of your right hand with his own.

You let him move your hand until it was pointed forward. More rocks materialised out of nowhere and formed something of a small mountain right in the middle of the room. “Why don’t you try to send the spell non-verbally again? If it doesn’t work, take ten seconds to breathe deeply and calm down, then try again. And if that doesn’t work either, another ten second pause, and then send it verbally. The important thing is to perform the spell itself. Non-verbal casting does get you bonus points, but you’ll hardly be chastised if you speak your spells. However, if you stress yourself out because you’re unable to cast the spell without saying the incantation, you’ll find it difficult to cast the spell verbally as well.”

He then gently began moving your hand in the pattern of the Gouging charm, just making sure you remembered the proper movement, before he moved his head to be able to whisper into your ear: “Go on and try. And remember what I told you.”

You shivered a little at the feeling of his hot damp breath upon your skin.

You concentrated your hardest upon the stone formation, moved your wand in the pattern he made you practise again earlier, and thought your loudest ‘Defodio’.

And… nothing.

“Alright - that was a fair enough try,” he spoke, calmly and far from critically, “I could feel your magic, but it was not enough. It was not concentrated enough. Breathe, my sweet,” Aesop whispered again, “Close your eyes, count to ten, and breathe deeply, in and out.”

So you did. You closed your eyes and began counting slowly, timing your breaths so that they were slow, deep and steady.

“Alright - now focus. Imagine the stones already broken in half, an entrance forming among them, and only when you can clearly see it in your mind’s eye, that’s when you send the spell.”

You listened to the teacher, letting his close proximity calm you down enough to be able to once more fully focus. You stared unblinking at the small mountain in the middle of the room, trying to imagine it opening up into a cavern.

Just like when you were standing before a treasure vault, or perhaps an ancient tomb in the Highlands, an entrance materialising right in front of you, after you’ve sent the correct spell on the stony key cube. “Steady,” Aesop whispered again.

‘Defodio,’ you commanded in your mind, your wrist turning in that jerky pattern, and suddenly…

Crackling and popping could be heard, and a hole started to form in the midst of the rock formation, soon reminding you of an actual entrance to a cave. You couldn’t help but turn your head to grin at Aesop, finding him grinning back at you already. Both his arms now curled around your waist: “Splendid job!” He pressed several prickly kisses on the skin of your neck, prompting you to giggle breathlessly.

“My knight in shining armour,” you breathed out, leaning into your beloved further, “first you save me from suffocating in The Cavern of Certain Doom, then you save my performance tomorrow… Although I don’t know how we’re going to arrange you standing behind me while I cast this spell,” you finished with a small chuckle, your hands coming to cover his own around your midsection.

“You’re in luck,” Aesop simply replied, “this spell is not among those that are used during the exam. I can’t tell you anything else, unfortunately. However, I had the chance to watch you for a while before your unfortunate rocky situation, and I wholeheartedly believe you’ve got nothing to fear tomorrow. You’ll be brilliant.”

You smiled and fully succumbed to the comfort of his embrace. “Not as brilliant as you are,” was your whispered answer as you let your head drop to his shoulder in a silent invitation. One look at your parted lips was all it took for Aesop to seize the moment. His lips moulded against yours in a passionate kiss not a second later.

You pocketed your wand quickly to be able to turn around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. Soon your fingers found their place in his hair, and you promptly began messing it up, dragging your fingernails through the soft locks. You accepted his tongue in your mouth shortly after, letting the older man taste you to his heart’s content and ravish your mouth as he saw fit.

One of his hands came to take hold of the underside of your thigh, and he effortlessly lifted your leg up to place it over his hip. You lost your balance somewhat, but Aesop held on tight, his strong arms rendering you standing upright right where you were, as well as making you very aware of the effect your heated snogging had on him through this very close proximity.

You managed to stifle the groan that threatened to escape you, but weren’t able to stop yourself from tugging on his hair harder, which in turn made him produce an unintelligible noise into your own mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he breathed out, closing his hand tighter on the flesh of your thigh, pressing you even closer, “if we don’t stop now, I think I might actually ravish you right here on the floor. Which I wouldn’t be exactly opposed to, mind, but I’d rather not traumatise our house elf friend was he to appear. For one.

“For two, the ground is hardly a very comfortable place to rest afterwards…”

Your breath caught in your throat at his sultry voice. A few chosen words, and here you were, quite ready to actually really let him take you right there, right now.

You were both torn from your little game of seduction by a series of loud sounds coming from one end of the room. You swiftly turned your heads in that direction, watching in bewilderment as a door appeared out of nothing. It was no ordinary door, though - it was camouflaged to look like the wall around it, and had it been closed, you could barely see it was there at all.

From the entrance of the training room, it was virtually invisible.

“I swear, if that is what I think it is, I’m about to start really doubting this place, “Aesop said with a disbelieving expression on his face, “Vivariums to breed bloody Graphorns is one thing, but making a whole new room solely so that a professor can make love to his student sweetheart on a surface more comfortable than a stone floor? Now that’s ever so slightly questionable.”

You couldn’t help the small fit of giggles that overtook you then. Aesop watched in mild amusement as you covered your mouth.

“You know,” you said once your laughter died down, “that’s what this place is all about; it provides without judgement. You really need to use the loo, it creates the loo. It feels like you could do with a bath, it makes a bathtub… And now here we are, the two of us very much needing a nice, comfortable and private space, and, of course, the Room is ready to provide.”

The professor pulled back slightly, a sly smirk on his lips as his hands kneaded the flesh of your hips. “Well… In that case, we’d be quite ungrateful not to make use of whatever the Room prepared for us, wouldn’t we?”

Without warning, your feet left the ground as the potions master bent to toss you over his broad shoulder. You barely avoided a collision with his strong back by bracing your hands against it.

“Aesop!” you squealed out, only prompting him to chuckle smugly and use his free hand to swat gently at your buttocks. “You absolutely incorrigible man…” you sighed then, accepting your fate. You were unable to deny that there was something completely exhilarating about being manhandled like this.

Several months ago, Aesop would’ve needed at least two phials of Wiggenweld potion to be able to just toss you over his shoulder and walk with you like this without doubling over in pain. However, following the extensive exercising he did while his leg was on the mend, Aesop felt healthier and stronger than ever, and he carried you like you weighed nothing at all.

From your position, you were only aware that Aesop was carrying you towards the newly formed room, but you couldn’t see a thing, despite attempting to turn around as much as your current position allowed you. Finally, the professor stopped in his tracks and whistled: “Well I never… this looks quite enticing indeed…”

Slowly and carefully he lowered you down until your feet once again touched the ground, his hands seemingly accidentally lifting your skirt slightly in the process, running over the backs of your thighs.

You immediately turned around to see the new room for yourself, and grinned wide right away. Oh yes, you thought, this was indeed quite lovely.

The new room was bathed in a soft moonlight, and there were at least a dozen candles placed around on the various surfaces within. The flames of the candles danced and swayed slowly, creating a very tantalising atmosphere. There were several pieces of furniture. Before the artificial window stood two comfortable looking armchairs, and to the side of the room was a dresser, a white basin with a matching water jug and a few washcloths upon it.

However, the obvious centrepiece of the room was a (very) large and beautiful bed, with intricate details adorning its dark wooden frame, and covered with deep purple sheets giving off a silky shine. It looked incredibly inviting, and you had to restrain yourself from jumping straight among the copious amount of pillows.

The Room of Requirement outdid itself indeed, it was one of the most beautiful if not the most beautiful bedroom you ever laid your eyes on, and it seemed Aesop agreed with you in this regard: “Now I feel a little self-conscious about your first time being among the mismatched chaos of my aunt’s cottage to be honest…”

You could not help but grin at the teacher: “Oh, I thought it was quite charming, actually! However, rest assured that it matters very little to me whether we are at your aunt’s cottage, in your chambers, or in this spectacular room. I’m just glad to be there with you.”

Aesop smiled at your words with the kind of smile that always made butterflies flutter within your stomach, and this time was no exception. You never understood his insistence that you deserved better, someone younger, better looking, who hadn’t made as many mistakes as he.

In your eyes, he was perfect in his imperfections, and handsome beyond all reason.

You barely noticed your hand glide over his prickly cheek, your thin finger tracing the edge of his lips. His eyes fluttered a little under your tender touch, and his look was devoted and filled with adoration. And when you suddenly gripped his tie just below its knot and pulled him towards you, you were quite surprised to feel a very similar sensation.

Aesop too held onto your blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie, and he also used it to pull you closer for a passionate, nearly bruising kiss.

The kiss was much too short however, as Aesop parted your lips mere seconds later in order to release a hearty chuckle, for he noticed your accidental synchronisation as well. The pause before another kiss was not horribly long though, and soon the professor was very much snogging the living daylights out of you, something you definitely didn’t mind.

“You know,” he murmured during one of your brief breaks for air, voice low and a little hoarse, “you gave me something of an idea…”

“Oh? What sort of idea?” you mumbled in reply, your fingers slowly probing at the lapels of his overcoat before sneaking down to unfasten the buttons of his waistcoat. The potions master was smiling as he watched your growing desire, and his grin widened even further upon your whispered question. His dominant hand once more closed around your tie, now over the knot itself, and pulled down. The tie grew looser around your neck until it slipped from its knot entirely, remaining hanging in Aesop’s hold.

“You see, I wondered whether I could perhaps make use of this. And my own tie as well… Tie you by the wrists to the bedposts, spread you nice and wide for me, then have fun making you come apart for me again, and again, and again…” he purred into your ear, marking the end of his sentence with a quick nip at your earlobe, prompting you to shudder noticeably.

“So?” he whispered again, “what do you say?”

The smug bastard, you thought, grinning. He knew very, very well just by looking at you, that refusal of his proposal was the very last thing on your mind, the first electricity like impulses of impending lust fluttering through your core. Aesop smiled and started kissing a hot trail over your throat, but otherwise made no further advances.

“I need an answer, my love…I need you to say it,” he reminded after another minute or two, and you belatedly understood his restraint in taking things further just yet.

“Y-yes, Aesop” you finally replied, voice a little shakier than before.

“Good,” came out of his mouth as little more than a sigh, and his hands slid up to begin undoing your crisp white shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked under the waistband of your skirt in the process. You watched almost mesmerised as his large long fingers made easy work of the small, delicate buttons, all the while his mouth latched onto your neck again.

He kissed the newly uncovered skin after he’d slipped the soft shirt down your shoulders. Hot tongue glided over your collarbones and the clever fingers slid down the sides of your bosom before taking hold of your waist. His head dropped further and he nuzzled his face into the cleavage of your chemise before kissing at the path in-between your breasts, as much as the silky material covering them allowed him anyway.

He raised his eyes slowly and waited until your gazes connected. While his cheeks were slightly flushed and his dark eyes made even darker by the growing arousal, there was also that cheeky glint within them you were so fond of witnessing. It made another shiver run through your frame. The reason was simple: every other time Aesop had this look in his eyes, you knew he was going to say or do something that would plaster a nearly permanent grin on your face. Utter some deeply ironic quip, long-suffering comment concerning his students, or offer some rather cheesy pick up line.

However, when he got this look in his eyes as the two of you were about to retire to the sheets, it meant a single thing: You were not leaving this bed tonight.

He bent even further, his lips making contact with one of your nipples, which was visibly perked under the thin chemise following his previous actions. The sharp sting of his crooked teeth on the sensitive tissue made a barely audible mewl escape your open mouth, and when your lover’s tongue circled the teat through the undergarment, your knees buckled somewhat.

His chuckle against the now damp material of your undershirt didn’t help much either.

“I can see we best get you to a seating position… Can’t have you tumble down for me just yet, now can we…” he said, sounding very satisfied with himself.

He guided you to the edge of the bed and sat you down. The mattress felt firm yet comfortable, but you didn’t really have time to ponder about it for too long, as the potions master kneeled before you. He took hold of one of your feet and propped it up on his upper thigh so that he could unfasten the laces on your boot. And once he did, his large hands slid over your leg appreciatively, fingers teasing at the stocking covering it. Your skirt was lifted a bit to reveal the soft, milky skin of your upper thighs, as well as the simple elastic garter holding the hose up.

Aesop made quick work of it, and seemed to be immensely enjoying slowly peeling both the garter and the stocking off your leg, dragging his nose and lips over the skin of your knee, your shin, your instep. The discarded clothes landed somewhere on the floor behind him, and he focused his attention on your other leg.

Once you were completely barefoot, he raised a single finger in a silent request for you to give him a moment. He shifted to sit on the ground instead, and started undoing his own heavy boots, haphazardly throwing them to the side once they were loose enough for him to slip his feet out of them. With a barely audible grunt, he stood up again, rose to his full height, and made the height difference between the two of you greater than ever.

There was a small predatory glint in his eyes as he towered over you, but he remained so gentle still, raising his hand to merely caress your cheek with utmost gentleness. You happily leaned into his touch, turning your head a bit to be able to press a kiss against the heel of his palm.

“I’m going to need you to scoot further back on the bed, love” he requested in a quiet, unreadable voice, but you didn’t hesitate to comply.

You only just managed to sit back enough for your entire body to be upon the bed, before your back made sudden contact with the mattress behind you. As it turned out, as soon as there was enough space on the bed, the potions master nearly leapt up upon it and on top of you with the ferocity of a wild thing, using his hands to pin yours above your head on the mattress, before rendering your entire body immobile using his body weight. You felt the low rumble of his laughter all over you, saw the irresistible smirk on his mouth, his face right above yours. Without further ado, you connected your lips again.

You couldn’t help but grin when he finished the kiss with a playful nip at your lower lip and scooted back in order to rid you of the rest of your garments. He popped open the button of your skirt, and unabashedly tugged it down along with your drawers.

“Aesop Sharp, you truly are an insatiable man…” you muttered amusedly, prompting the teacher to snort. Soon, his palms again covered your thighs and began sliding up, excruciatingly slow, pushing the chemise up inch by inch. He always did this part slowly, almost reverently, lapping up your naked form with his eyes just like he did that very first night…

And like that first night, you were justly bothered by the obviously unfair difference between your states of undress. You were quite ready to comment on it too, after the last piece of your clothing joined its companions on the floor, but found yourself speechless after your lover moved to straddle your waist, your previously discarded tie in hand along with his own. When did he even take it off?

“May I, dear?” he asked again, taking your hand and moving it above you at a slow pace, in case you had changed your mind about the whole thing.

You felt your face burn as you nodded: “Yes, Aesop…”

Soon thereafter, Aesop was securing your left wrist to one of the bedposts using your Ravenclaw tie. You noted how careful he was tying you to the bed, constantly making sure the tie wasn’t squeezing your wrist tight enough to cut off your blood flow, but also that there was no way for your hand to get free following any sudden harsh movements. Your other hand was promptly taken care of as well, and Aesop moved back to sit across your hips and admire his handiwork.

The obvious hunger in his eyes made more blood rush into your cheeks, and your hands balled into loose fists.

You were completely naked before him, physically and mentally, vulnerable and defenceless… And yet you felt entirely comfortable with the situation. You felt exhilarated and excited as to what Aesop was about to do to you. The man himself seemed content to simply touch and observe you for a while, his warm hands caressing your body everywhere he could reach, mapping your curves, connecting your freckles and moles using his fingers.

“Might have to re-tie you later,” he mused out loud in a low voice when he dragged his digits over your arms, making your body break out in goose flesh and making you squirm slightly at the ticklish sensation. “Oh?” you asked, your eyelids heavy with anticipation. You didn’t expect his next words to make a tremble run through you, but they sure did: “in case I want to flip you on your hands and knees instead…”

Seeing your reaction, another predatory grin spread on Aesop’s features: “Oh, this is going to be fun… For now, though, I think it’s only fair you’re not the only one disrobed.”

Aesop began to take off his clothes then. First to go were his overcoat, jacket, and the waistcoat you unbuttoned previously, all of which the potions master shook down and away in one go. However, then he must’ve decided that a bit more teasing is in order, and each following article of clothing was removed slower than the last one. Aesop was fixing you with a smug smirk as he slowly shrugged the suspenders off his shoulders, and started unbuttoning his own white shirt.

You licked your lips and your fingers flexed on their own accord as he revealed his hirsute chest.

That made him grin even more. He knew you loved to touch him, that you loved to run your nimble fingers through the hair on his breast, to pull on it, to bury your face in it to inhale his scent. He loved when you did that too. However, right now he was rather enjoying witnessing you like this even more.You remained silent but inhaled shakingly when he started to unfasten his trousers, revealing the sizable bulge in his pants.

A relieved little sigh left his mouth: “Finally. Those were getting uncomfortably tight… Then again, I hope to get into something even tighter later…” The potions master slowly untied the lace of his pants and slowly pulled them down.

His erection sprung out from its cottony confines, and your mouth watered at the sight of him. Your thighs squeezed together as much as they were able to, considering the tall man was still straddling you, and you found yourself perhaps slightly desperate to continue.

Just seeing Aesop like this, half naked, his large cock throbbing, his inhibitions tossed out of the window, and his gaze positively ravenous did inexplicable things to you. Your already swift heartbeat quickened up further and your womanhood dampened with sheer lust.

You watched in fascination as his own fingers wrapped around the stiff penis, and he began to stroke himself slowly. Merlin, while you weren’t able to touch him, you could recall the feel of him inside of your hand perfectly, the organ hot and thrumming under your fingertips, getting even more sensitive at its mushroom-like pink tip, out of which a small clear droplet of fluid spilled already.

He shifted somewhat and used his feet to spread your legs a little bit, just enough for him to slide the shaft into the gap that appeared between your thighs, dragging it through your damp folds and over your swelling lovebud deliciously. A noise so quiet you almost struggled to hear it yourself snuck out from your throat and you swallowed heavily, squirming at the teasing. He pumped his hips a few times, enjoying the sweet friction and riling you up further.

He chuckled then, though it was audible in his voice that he wasn’t nearly as calm as he perhaps pretended to be. His breath was definitely shorter than it had been, and the rise of his eyebrows was absolutely unmistakable.

He remained stationary for a little while, nestled within your legs, before a low chuckle rolled through him: “My apologies, dear, I seem to be getting terribly ahead of myself.” He braced his arms on the mattress next to your ribs, and slightly awkwardly climbed off the bed, mindful not to trip over his own undone trousers.

He removed his socks, then fully took off the dark breeches, his drawers soon following. He took his sweet time carefully folding each discarded article of clothing, which contrasted with all the other clothes that were haphazardly thrown on the floor previously.

You watched his every move; someone as tall as Aesop shouldn’t be able to be this elegant in their movements, especially so during an activity as simple as removing one’s clothing, yet he managed perfectly. It was actually nearly mesmerising to watch him.

You heard a dark chuckle when he turned to the dresser to place his folded clothes onto it: “Oh, Room of Requirement indeed! This is exactly what I was thinking about just now,” he said, seemingly more to himself than to you. He slowly turned around to show you what he discovered on the piece of furniture. It was a long stripe of soft-looking deep green fabric, a little wider than a ribbon. It took you several seconds to understand what he intended to do, by which point he was already sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. “What do you think? Do you trust me, my love?” he asked gently, reaching out to touch your hot cheek, calloused fingertips dancing over the smooth flushed skin in gentle patterns. You thought about the idea for a little while, swallowing nervously. It all came down to a simple fact:

You did trust him. You trusted him absolutely.

You didn’t really know what to expect from the experience of being both bound and blindfolded, though. What if not being able to touch him, or even see him at all would make it uncomfortable for you? Or what if the lack of sight would make the sensations too intense? It was yet another unknown for you. But then again, so was sex itself mere months ago. And Aesop was so completely brilliant, guiding you through all of it, holding your hand, and being so patient and sweet with you. Every single day, you discovered together what worked for one and didn’t for the other, staying respectful of one another’s boundaries and feelings.

It was so easy with Aesop. It was amazing with him.

You knew you needn’t have ever worried. After all -

“If anything starts being too much, if it gets uncomfortable, even a little bit, just say the word and I’ll immediately stop and release you,” Aesop said sincerely, still stroking your cheek tenderly. You couldn’t help but smile at him, channelling all of your love for this man with your eyes.: “I trust you completely, Ace.”

The professor grinned in reply, his hand squeezing the piece of fabric a bit tighter. He leaned down to place a single kiss on your pliant mouth, and then tied the blindfold around your head. It indeed was as soft and smooth as it appeared, but it blocked out way more light than you would’ve thought a thin stripe of cloth like this one could. That is, you were suddenly plunged into absolute darkness, which disoriented you momentarily.

Nothing happened for at least a full minute, no touching, no kissing, if you didn’t hear Aesop’s soft breathing right in front of you, you would’ve nearly thought he left, which was of course silly.

But then… First thing you felt was a warm body descending upon your own once more, both enticingly and comfortingly, a pair of arms coming to curl around your back. Then, a hot pair of lips claiming yours in a slow kiss. Finally, his breath teased at your earlobe again: “Could you do me a favour, dear?” he asked, sounding more playful than ever. Your mind felt quite clouded over, but you managed a very eloquent ‘huh?’. However, even in your heavily distracted state, you were sure that smug smile was still plastered on his face: “Would you please test your restraints for me?”

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips, but you decided to humour him anyway. At first you tugged at the neckties in several short bursts. That, unsurprisingly, did absolutely nothing. So you decided to truly try, and put your entire strength into an attempt to loosen the restraints enough to get free. You were sweating and breathless by the time you realised there was no way for you to get your hands free. Without magic, that is.

“So, my dear… Are you able to free yourself?” Aesop whispered against your lips, his large nose dragging against your own in a manner that was contrastingly cute compared to the delectably filthy sound of his voice and the even filthier unspoken promise.

“No, I’m not.”

”Good.”

And not a second later were you gasping in surprise which swiftly turned into a moan of pleasure as the professor’s mouth latched itself onto your breast, his teeth worrying your sensitive nipple rather roughly. Aesop bit and he sucked in the way he knew you loved, and he always did so until it became nearly painful, at which point he stopped and focused his attention on your other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

Normally, you’d be dragging your fingers through his hair and tugging on it, but now all you were able to do was to squirm and accept his merciless ministrations. Every now and then he pulled away slightly in order to blow cool air onto the teat, prompting it to harden even further than it already was.

You could only imagine your nipples being raw red and swollen when he finally lifted his head up again. They felt so very tender, and your quim was throbbing longingly. “Now what do we have here?” he asked lightly, clearly enjoying himself immensely, “another lovely thing I can use…”

Did the Room create another object? What could it be?

You gasped loudly when something cold and liquidy hit your collarbone and poured down between your breasts to further spill down your sides and into the little hollow of your belly button. A strong scent hit you then - is that Firewhisky?! While you didn’t enjoy the taste of the liquor, you couldn’t deny its smell and the alcoholic vapour combined with your current state of arousal made for one sensual mix.

And the mix was made even more sensual when Aesop’s mouth proceeded to lick the alcohol from your skin, being very meticulous in his effort not to let a single drop go to waste. After he’d finished by drinking the last few drops from your belly button, he gave a satisfied grunt: “Hm, my sweet - I don’t think I ever want to drink Firewhisky a different way…”

You were now able to hear soft sounds of skin on skin, and another small sigh left your mouth. You truly wished you could see him, as you didn’t doubt he looked completely delectable. In your mind’s eye, you did see him; he was half hovering over you, half kneeling upon the bed between your own legs, slowly stroking himself while he played you like a violin, plucking at all the right strings. He repeated the process a few more times, pouring and licking the liquor off your body, mindful that it didn't get onto the more sensitive bits, all the while audibly pumping himself and groaning at the combined sensations.

It was complete and utter hedonism, and bloody hell you loved it…

“A-Aesop…” you sighed. You could smell his musk and the Firewhisky, and it was driving you positively ravenous. Not being able to touch him or even see him was only adding to the desperation. “Hmm? What is it, my sweet?” came from above your navel, Aesop’s breath cooling the damp skin and making you shiver, the words very nearly purred. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. You didn’t actually know what exactly you wanted to ask for - the only thought on your mind was him. You just wanted more of him.

There was a bit of shuffling; you felt the change in pressure on the mattress around you, and soon he was straddling you again, this time higher up your chest. He was very careful not to actually sit on you and potentially squeeze something too much. His scent got stronger, and the soft sounds of his hand languidly sliding over his shaft louder. “What would you like, dear?”

You could feel your cheeks redden impossibly, and were all of a sudden a bit glad for the fact that you couldn’t see him. Noiselessly you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out obscenely. A chuckle was your sole answer before long fingers slid into your hair to stroke it: “I rather think it’s my turn to make you feel good, sweetheart, not vice versa,” he said quietly, but you couldn’t mistake the little tremble in his voice.

“Please…” you whispered back, before opening your mouth again. Aesop’s hand slid back from your hair and he caressed your cheek instead, before putting two fingers on your tongue and making you open your mouth even more. You instantly any recognised the next thing to touch your tongue. You closed your lips around the engorged glans, and began to run your tongue around it, rolling it in your mouth and worrying at the slit at the top. You then hollowed out your cheeks to add suction to the movements of your tongue on him.

His breath shuddered, and the hand on your cheeks tensed somewhat when you began bobbing your head up and down as much as you were able to in your position, releasing soft groans every time you managed to take him in further. Soon his own hips joined into the slow rhythm, and he used his hand to guide your head along even further.

The musky scent of him, the slightly salty taste, his beautiful sounds, oh, he was absolutely intoxicating. You licked along the defined veins of his cock, no doubt looking a right slobbering mess, but neither of you were capable of caring. If your hands were free, you'd be gently kneading at his bollocks, or perhaps toying with his nipples, but you had to admit, being restrained like this made for a very heady experience as well…

“Mhm, f-fuck,” he grit out before a hard thrust forward, one that guided him all the way in. You felt the tickle of his pubic hair on your nose, felt him twitch inside of your throat. You breathed deeply, fighting your gag reflex, the fabric covering your eyes dampening slightly with the tears that burst out following your efforts. You swallowed around the heavy prick, prompting another choked sound from your lover.

The hand that was holding your cheek before tangled into your hair, and closed into a fist around it just enough to make you feel the pull, but not any pain. “I could just come right now-” he said, his voice low and dripping with pleasure, “paint the inside of your throat…” Your eyes fluttered under the blindfold. You wouldn't mind. The few times he allowed you to actually finish him using your mouth were completely glorious. “But that’s no fun, considering I’m planning to ruin you before I even fill that sweet little cunny of yours…”

And then, with what seemed like a lot of effort, Aesop loosened his hand on your hair and pulled back and out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva clinging onto his tip still before separating, and falling unceremoniously down on your neck.

You heard him breath heavily for a few minutes, calming himself down a bit to be able to carry on with your little play. He moved back so that his legs framed yours again and his hands braced on the mattress on each side of your head.

“I rather think it’s time to make you cry out for me , my dear.”

Before you were able to gather your bearings, he claimed your lips in a filthy hot kiss, his tongue probing and penetrating, immediately overpowering your own into submission. You could taste the Firewhiskey he lapped up off your skin, and were sure he could taste himself on your tongue. You only sighed into the incredible kiss, letting him take absolutely everything he could possibly want. “You are driving me mad, (F/N)...” he muttered against your lips, a sense of urgency in his words, and ran his hands over your arms. They were beginning to feel quite numb if you were honest, but Aesop’s touch still made your skin break out in gooseflesh, and the promise of more pleasure to come made you completely uncaring towards any numbness.

Using his hand, Aesop turned your head to the side to be able to bite down on your pulse point, and he once more began to descend down your form. A trail of kisses and little bites led him back to your breasts, and he couldn't resist flicking his tongue over your poor, oversensitive teats, which made you whine quietly and toss your head around a little. Your thighs were rubbing against one another unconsciously, as you were trying to bring at least a little bit of friction to your soaking wet cunt.

“Oh, I don’t think so, love,” Aesop said once he noticed your efforts, some of his smugness seeping back now that he wasn’t root-deep in your throat, and forced his own leg between yours, “as I said - my turn.”

You felt terribly cold when he pulled away somewhat, immediately missing the warmth of his strong body. Your legs were then mercilessly spread open, exposing your nearly aching womanhood to the cool air of the chamber and making you gasp. You heard what sounded like a growl leave the man who was currently digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of your thighs where he held them, no doubt leaving small bruises in his wake.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” he mumbled, further opening your legs, “I wish you could see yourself right now… See yourself the way I see you… So beautiful. So sweet and lovely, all spread out like this. Like a feast ready to be devoured...”

A single finger slipped across your seam, dipping within your folds teasingly before dragging over your swollen clitoris. “You are absolutely drenched,” Aesop remarked, the urgency in his voice coming back. Though he said his words lightly, airily almost, you could feel what felt like a snare drum in your veins. You were like prey face to face with a predator, and you knew that he would strike any second now. Your thighs trembled in anticipation.

And while you half expected it, it still caught you unawares when he lunged down, burying his face between your thighs. His lips, tongue and teeth all at once began an intense assault on your most primal senses, the relief of having your need finally attended to combined with the need itself forced a choked cry out of your throat, and for a second you couldn't comprehend why you couldn’t feel his hair between your fingers, when your hand was clearly reaching for it.

No, your hands were instead balled into tight fists and you shuddered violently. Your lover was groaning in pleasure as he licked and sucked at your damp skin before letting his tongue delve into your fluttering opening, one of his hands letting go of your leg and coming in to help. His calloused thumb quickly found your lovebud, and began to rub it in a circular motion, in the same rhythm in which his tongue thrusted inside you.

Because of the absence of sight, it was like you could feel every single sensation twice as intense. Aesop’s little grunts as he devoured you, his thumb relentlessly worrying at your clitoris, that sweet, sweet sting of his beard on your tender skin, and the complete inability to do anything about any of these things, bound as you were, made the little electric sparks that announced an impending climax approach much quicker than usual. Mind, Aesop was perfectly capable of making you come within mere minutes, but the teacher was fond of taking his sweet time riling you up, and in turn making sure you were ready for him to fully take you.

Two fingers pushed in alongside his tongue in search of that hidden bundle of nerves that never failed to make you moan for him. And find it they did, swiftly and precisely.

You didn’t expect the orgasm to rip through you the moment the tips of his digits bumped into it, but here you were, crying out embarrassingly loudly and arching your neck and back as much as you were able to, while your toes curled and the sudden pleasure made your body feel like it was on fire. It was obvious your lover didn’t exactly expect it either, if his little gasp was anything to go by. His mouth left you, but his hands remained where they were, the fingers inside you actually pushing against your walls with every contraction of them, stretching them open.

“My, my…” he said a little smugly as you still writhed under the sensations, your breathing laboured and your heartbeat almost too loud for you to hear him, “that was quite unexpected. However, very, very much welcomed. In fact, I rather think I’d like to do that again.” And without further warning and without you having any time to come down from your high, the teacher dove right back, his mouth returning to your entrance, and his devilishly clever hands doubling their intense assault. And just like that, you were thrown right back into the toe-curling sensations, your body so bloody sensitive, yielding to Aesop like he was its true master. Despite having just climaxed less than two minutes ago, you felt bloody close to the edge once more, and Aesop seemed hellbent on mercilessly shoving you over it again, lapping up at your fluttering entrance like a man starved.

Then however, as his fingers started to pump quicker inside you, making sure to hit that spot again and again, his mouth was forced to retreat, and he instead used it to suck at your lovebud instead.

Another sudden and earth-shattering orgasm flooded over you in a truly ridiculously short amount of time, and now you were trembling all over, your thighs shaking nearly violently. You weren’t even aware of the surely whorish sounds you were producing, but your sweetheart obviously appreciated them, for you heard him growl: “That’s it, my sweet - sing for me…”

This time he didn’t stop his ministrations even for a second as you came on his fingers and mouth a second time, and you remained a moaning, blubbering mess. You could feel a film of sweat covering your inflamed form, your own heart hammering in your ears louder that the bells of the Bell tower.

It was… It was actually becoming too much in the span of such a short time, and you were beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the unstopping pleasure, overstimulation setting in. Your dry throat burned from the sounds you made, and as yet another orgasm approached you, fast, intense, and feeling destructive, you knew that your limit would have been reached after that.

So you gathered up all of your strength, all of the sense you were able to muster at the moment (which wasn’t a lot but it was hopefully enough for you to be able to say a single word), and you took several shallow breaths, fighting more moans that were bubbling in your throat.

“J- ah! J-Jobberknoll!” you managed to squeak out before another powerful burst of pleasure rolled through you and you cried out once more, the cloth over your eyes once again getting wet with your tears, the sensations too much.

Too much! Too much!

However, less than two seconds later, it all stopped entirely, the fingers retreating from your pulsing heat, the mouth ravishing your clit disappearing, and a pair of strong arms taking gentle hold of your hips instead. You shuddered out a soft sound of relief.

One of those strong hands softly touched your face and caressed your cheek. “Are you alright, (F/N)?” Aesop asked, the concern in his voice winning over the obvious arousal, “did I hurt you?”

It took you at least a minute but possibly even more to gather your wits about you, to catch a breath, to stop feeling like you were either going to faint right there or climax anyway despite no longer being stimulated. All the while, Aesop’s hand was stroking your cheek, the other holding your hip still, and the teacher daren’t move.

“I-” you finally managed to grit out, your voice sounding foreign to your ears, shaky and hoarse, “N-no, you didn’t hurt me, b-but… it was becoming too much. I’m sorry…”

You heard him click his tongue reproachfully: “What did I tell you about apologising for stopping me when you want me to stop?” You took another several seconds to reply: “... Not to.”

“Exactly. If anything, I’m proud of you for having spoken up,” he said quietly, caressing your hair in praise. You opened your mouth a few times, and we're just about to ask for some water, when something cool touched your lower lip. You swiftly recognised it as the rim of a goblet, and eagerly opened your mouth further. Aesop carefully helped you take several large gulps of water, soothing your dry throat. Once you were done drinking, your lover put the goblet away again, probably where he found it in the first place, and again stroked your cheek.

Do you want to fully stop? It’s absolutely alright if you do,” he said then, his fingers tracing the features of your face with utmost gentleness. “N-no!” you replied, perhaps way too quickly, but completely sincerely, “No, no, I don’t want to stop, I just-... I just need a few minutes.”

The professor’s body covered your own again, bringing on a beautiful sense of comfort. “You can have as much as you want, dearest… is it alright if I kiss you in the meantime?” he asked, and you could feel yourself melting a bit on the inside.

Yes, the older man very much was capable of turning into nothing less than a ravenous beast during your tender fun, but was completely ready to stop the very moment you showed any discomfort, and even ask permission for a kiss after he just made you come twice, face buried in your quim.

“P-please,” you whispered only, raising your head a bit in a blind search of his lips. You didn’t have to search for very long at all, as the hot mouth covered your own in a kiss so gentle, it contrasted your previous passion beautifully. However, that doesn’t mean this kiss wasn’t passionate.

After all, you could taste the proof of your own arousal and pleasure on his lips and tongue, and it was such a strangely heady sensation, you felt your core flutter again.

“Mhm…” your lover groaned between kisses, “can you taste how delicious you are? How amazing you smell? You are like bloody ambrosia to me, and I’ll never stop craving more. I could come just like that, just devouring you like so, forcing those sweet sounds out of you. Almost have, just now…” You proceeded to whimper into the next kiss, his words making the primal thing in you purr happily.

“A-Aesop… I-... you can continue… please…” you whispered against his lips. You could feel him smile, his hands once more going to your hips and massaging them shortly. “Are you certain, (F/N)? We can wait a little more, if you need. Do you want more water?” he asked.

“N-no…” you replied, “no, I'm fine. Please, continue.”

He pulled back again then, and you could feel his engorged glans against your opening. You were already taking a deep breath, preparing for the penetration, when instead the teacher’s cock slid right along your seam and over your sweet spot, making you shudder in both pleasure and mild frustration. He repeated the motion several times, each one making you feel you’re about to go mad.

“You have to tell me what you want, my love,” your sweetheart whispered, his voice betraying the fact that he was barely restraining himself now too. You were already red as a salamander, but you still felt even more blood rush to your cheeks.

“F-... Fuck me, Aesop!” You breathed out.

There was a few seconds of pregnant silence, but then the potions master chuckled gleefully: “Merlin’s beard, love… Words one could consider crude, but from your lips… Like a siren’s call… And your call is always my command.”

However, before he could finally line up with the entrance into your warmth depths, you spoke up once more, a hint of embarrassment colouring your voice: “B-but wait! Can you… uh, can you please take the blindfold off? I need to see you…”

Instead of laughing or refusing, Aesop gently caressed your cheek and moved his hands to remove the blindfold. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s get this pesky thing off, shall we?”

Even though the room was quite dim, having spent long minutes in complete darkness, it took you some time to adjust to the light. You blinked repeatedly, your vision a little blurry, but soon your eyes focused on your lover. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. Aesop too was smiling down at you, his eyes filled with both love and lust, pupils so dilated they made the teacher’s orbs look entirely black. His cheeks were reddened, and you could see the area around his lips glistening damply with the proof of your desire.

“You know,” he said gently, “I also prefer it when I can see you, see you fully, that is… I love looking into your eyes when you come for me…”

Once more his hands took hold of your cheeks, and he dipped his head to give you another deep kiss.

“Ready?” he asked, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes and across your sweat-slicked forehead. You beamed up at him, drunk on your pleasure and your love: “You take such good care of me, Aesop… Yes, I’m ready.”

The older man gave you another shiny grin and sat back on his heels. He grabbed his throbbing erection in his right hand, and gave himself several slow strokes, using his index and thumb to play with his foreskin, pulling it over his glistening glans halfway before pulling it back again, your eyes watching his every move and your womanhood fluttering in anticipation.

“Of course, my love,” he said, “After all; you’re mine. I’ll always take the very best care of you. You can count on that… For now, however… For now I’m going to render you unable to count even to five.”

As much as you could, given your restricted position, you leaned over to watch him guide his prick to your dripping entrance. A sigh left your lips when he shifted forward and the dark pink tip sipped inside, the familiar stretch making you bite down on your lower lip. In a fluid motion, he thrust himself all the way inside, forcing another soft groan from your mouth. It was scary how addictive this feeling was, the feeling of complete fullness, of your bodies being this absolutely connected. You could feel the beat of his heart through his shaft within you, frantic like yours was. “Hmm…” Aesop sighed, his eyebrows rising in the pleasure of being completely enfolded within your plush heat, his voice soft.

He stayed where he was for several moments, just enjoying the sensation and letting you adjust a little.

Effortlessly, he then lifted your lower body off the bed and placed his legs below your hips and bottom, making you sort of awkwardly sit in his lap while your upper body remained pretty much hanging by the hands secured to the bedposts. You were entirely in his control, unable to move at all. Not that you minded.

His forehead made contact with your collarbone, and his arms curled around the small of your back, and he shallowly pumped his hips a few times, making the two of you produce soft sounds of pleasure. The rhythm he set was slow at first, the teacher’s mouth again closing around one of your nipples, your breast muffling his soft little grunts as he sheathed his cock within your core repeatedly.

“Have I told you your breasts are the eighth world wonder, my sweetest?” he purred with a smile when he released the pebbled teat, once more red and sensitive from him rolling it between his teeth on the very verge of pleasure and pain. And while you were in the middle of another pleased sigh, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

“Oh, Ace…,” you murmured, “I never knew how difficult it would be… Not b-being able to hold you…” Your eyes were partially closed as you enjoyed the sensations of him languidly fucking your tight little quim while worshipping your body.

The professor smiled softly: “Would you like me to untie you?” You thought about it for a while, but ultimately decided to remain bound - after all, it was not every day you indulged in this kind of play, it’d be a shame to end it prematurely.

“Mhm… no. No, it’s alright. I can tie you to the bed n-next time…” you whispered, moving your own hips as well as you could given the position, both of you searching for that one magical angle that made you cry out for him. “Now, that, ah…” Aesop groaned upon another thrust, “that’s an idea. Keen to leave me a moaning, trembling mess, are you?” Your eyes fluttered and your lips spread into a smile. “Y-you know how beautiful you are in that state?” you whispered, the image appearing in your mind’s eye.

Aesop, completely dishevelled, blushing, sweating, whining in the pleasure you were bringing him. All the while being entirely at your mercy.

“Likewise, (F/N),” he growled slowly before suddenly snapping his hips roughly against your own, making you choke out a gasp, “which is why I intend to get you into that state right now .”

And then his pace quickened rapidly, and he finally found that spot that rendered you positively speechless. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips enough to leave small bruises there, and he began to ram into you in earnest. And, just like he promised, you were indeed soon reduced into a state of overwhelming pleasure, but this time you let it claim you fully and entirely, your hips quickly unable to keep up with his, and you could do little more than just lie/hang there and take it.

The room was filled with the beautifully vulgar sounds of your bodies uniting, again and again, the noises of gratifications that poured from your open mouths, and the banging of the headboard against the wall behind it following Aesop's wild movements. You whined and writhed, your nails digging into your palms when they would normally be making small crescent moon shaped cuts in the skin of the teacher’s muscled back.

He leaned over suddenly, one of his hands curling around the headboard close to your right hand, while the other moved south. His thumb found your lovebud, and he began rolling it roughly in rhythm with his powerful thrusts.

The added sensation to the little pink pearl was like a summoning call to your previously snuffed out climax, and it began to return tenfold, your walls fluttering around the large cock, your entire form beginning to tremble under the delicious assault on your senses. Aesop’s other hand found your own where it was suspended at the bedpost.

“A-Aesop…” you barely managed to wine out, your grasp on the English language lessening rapidly. “I’m g-going to…” your head was thrown back, your eyes were rolling into the back of your head on their own accord, and you needed more.

“I-I’m… I’m close too,” he groaned and increased his pace even more, forcing more filthy noises pour out of your mouth at the dizzying feeling. And as you found yourself dancing upon that edge, your toes curling in on themselves, and the coil in your stomach tightening, Aesop suddenly pulled his hand away from where you were so intimately joined in order to wrap it around your throat.

He wasn’t squeezing you very hard at all, just sort of pushing, lessening your oxygen supply. You trusted him, though, you trusted him to never hurt you, and right now he was making you feel so, so bloody good.

The shortness of breath somehow made the chaotic flurry of sensations even stronger, and you gave a half-choked hoarse cry when you felt that knot inside finally explode into blinding white pleasure, one that made all of your muscles spasm. You felt that intoxicating feeling of soaring hot pleasure roll over you like a tidal wave. You let it consume you.

Your following sound turned into something of a sob, because of the sheer intensity. When you somehow managed to open your eyes, all you saw was Aesop, his face directly above yours, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes screwed shut. His mouth was opened, and a string of grunts was leaving it as he too found himself on the very verge.

With a muttered curse that had his voice rising half an octave, his eyes snapped open, and he looked directly at you. His gaze was both frightening and beautiful, he looked wild, like a primal being. He intended to take, and he was clearly past the point of all reason, chasing his pleasure within your contracting depths.

In a quick move, he pulled out, and used the hand he was gripping your neck with to roughly tug at his cock one, two, three times. A guttural growl that reminded you of a predatory animal reverberated through the room, and a hot rope of pearly white come spread over your stomach, followed by another one upon your ribs, reaching your breast even. He then proceeded to roughly thrust himself back into your quim, forcing a desperate whine from your mouth, and you felt more of his hot seed filling you in short bursts, igniting you from within.

Aesop’s forehead landed on your own, hot puffs of his breath landing on your damp lips, the hand that was holding your own tangling into your hair as he still pumped his hips slowly to ride out his orgasm.

You were perfectly marked by him, inside and out, claimed as his own again.

His strength gave a minute later, and he collapsed on top of you heavily, his breathing ragged and his heartbeat frantic.You gratefully accepted the weight and warmth of his body. Waves of gratification still rocked through you, and a sweet afterglow was settling in.

You turned your head to the left, where Aesop’s face was still buried in the crook of your neck, and pressed several soft kisses against his bearded jaw, nuzzling against his scarred cheek with your nose. One of his hands was still stroking through your hair, damp with perspiration, while the other curled around your back, holding you close.

As you cooled down from your shared ecstasy, your lover finally lifted his head, but only to connect your lips in a satisfied, lazy kiss, the previous lust-crazed passion replaced by sweet tenderness. After several minutes of gentle kisses and soft words, he looked into your eyes.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? I haven't hurt you, or squeezed you too hard?” the professor asked, his voice low with residue pleasure and slight fatigue. The hand in your hair went to gently stroke at your neck instead, checking for any damage he might’ve caused. You couldn’t do much else than beam back at him: “I’m alright, Aesop… Although I can’t really feel my hands.” Your smile got a little sheepish as you nodded in the direction of your hands, still tied to the bedposts by your and his neckties.

“Ah,” Aesop hummed, “of course, dear, let me just-” and then, following a wave of his hand, the ties began unknotting themselves before simply sliding off your arms. You felt pins and needles in the limbs as you finally lowered them to rest on Aesop’s strong back, but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, just happy to be finally able to hold him.

You stayed like this for a few more minutes, just enjoying the intimate closeness, before Aesop finally moved to sit up on his heels again, his now soft member leaving your depths. Your lover murmured something under his breath as he looked down on your body and then on his own. And then he smiled: “I made a bit of a mess - I’m sorry dear.”

His voice betrayed him though, he sounded everything but apologetic.

He was looking at you with a mix of smugness, possessiveness, a hint of renewed desire, and overwhelming love, as he observed the product of his pleasure clinging to both of your stomachs and dripping out of your core. You were blushing heavily, but didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. With a simple wave of his hand, the jug that stood upon the dresser poured water into the washbasin. Another wave, and it floated towards the bedside table, along with one of the soft looking cloths.

Aesop’s elegant fingers curled around the textile, and brought it into the water. After squeezing out the excess liquid, he set to clean you. You were happy to find the water nicely warm, perfect for your tired, slightly sore body. Aesop very slowly and very carefully washed your torso, making sure to be extra gentle around the more sensitive areas like your tender nipples. He rinsed the cloth and continued lower.

Many times, a quick Scourgify was enough to get both of you by, but it seemed Aesop was currently intent on prolonging the intimate atmosphere that settled between you, taking the sweet time to clean you up himself.

Only after he was done with you did he finally use the washcloth on his own body, scrubbing the drying seed from the hair on his stomach and giving himself a quick wipedown. Once he was finally all done, he carelessly tossed the fabric into the basin and curled up next to you on the bed. He helped turn you on your side to face him, and pulled one of your legs over his hip.

Soon thereafter, a very soft duvet slid upwards to cover your bodies and wrap them in its warmth. Your older lover then gently brought your wrists to his face and frowned momentarily: “If time comes when the two of us want to repeat this experience, I’ll get you some softer and finer restraints.” Your wrists were red where they were tied. “And I’ll get you some ointment for your wrists.”

You smiled at the professor. He was always so concerned for you, always making sure you were alright, even after he made you see stars and experience pleasures you wouldn’t have thought possible.

“You do take such good care of me, Ace,” you repeated, drunk on your current state of comfort as well as the love you held for the incredible man who held you in his arms, blinking slowly, “but I think I quite want to keep my wrists as they are… As a… little reminder…”

A new wave of possessiveness flashed in his eyes for a second - you knew he adored seeing you embrace the marks he left on your body. You, after all, also loved to see the imprints of your fingernails clearly visible on the skin of his broad back, or the hint of the love bite you left just below his collar. It was clear the two of you had some sort of thing for marking the other as your own, as well as being marked.

Your eyes closed on their own accord when his large, warm palms enveloped your face in their hold, and he sought your lips in a slow kiss. He helped you mould around his body in a way that was comfortable for both of you.

“How long do you reckon we can stay here?” you asked softly, the fatigue that followed your most pleasurable love-making turning into outright sleepiness as you snuggled under the duvet. Your hands lazily stroked each other's bodies, your hair spread around your heads on the shared pillow. The moonlight from the artificial window got dimmer, and the flickering candles became the main light of the room, further deepening the intimate atmosphere.

Aesop hummed quietly: “I’m not expected anywhere. And I rather think your roommates no longer question your absence at night - after all, we planned to be together tonight anyway.” You huddled further into his warmth: “Good. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be able to walk back to your chambers right now anyway.”

Your responses prompted a small chuckle out of the potions master: “I would’ve gladly carried you all the way back into my chambers, though I suspect the portraits and the ghosts would surely give us some curious looks.” You chuckled as well.

“It’s nearly surreal that in less than three weeks, there will be no more sneaking about… well, as successful as we were actually sneaking about anyway…” you continued, “if I finish my practical exams, that is.” The teacher only smiled at you, squeezing your waist: “You’ll be incredible. I know you will. And, I mean,” he pulled back to look at you, a grin on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes, “we can sneak about recreationally, if you so wish. However, I for one am quite looking forward to not having to do that, and instead be able to court you openly. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Another blush entered your face upon his sweet words: “Always, Aesop…”

“Still,” he spoke again after a while, “shame you’re such a responsible adult, going nearly straight to work following graduation - I would’ve hoped to have you all to myself for the summer. Though I of course realise you, uh, didn’t know whether there was even a possibility of a shared summer when you applied for and accepted the job. Still, if Miss Peck would be able to relieve you for, let’s say, a week… Well, we could go somewhere if you’d like. Devon, for example, is quite lovely this time of year.”

As he spoke, the older man was fidgeting with your fingers, a hopeful undertone to his voice. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at him: “I think Ellie can miss me for one week, as long as I owl her about the matter in a timely manner… What can you tell me about Devon?”

Aesop’s grin could light up the entire Great Hall, and it certainly made a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter around your stomach, as he turned to lean over you a bit: “Oh, let me tell you…”

Hello, and thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this dirty little story. As always, you can also check this story as well as all of my other stories over at AO3. I adore feedback! ❤

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