Mortality
Aesop Sharp x Reader
A continuation of The Violet Hour, Reader POV. MDNI.
There's a fullness that comes from drinking Human blood that you've never felt before. A sort of warmth that radiates through your entire being. It's an intoxicating feeling, like finally sitting in front of a fire after spending too much time out in the snow. Or eating one's favorite food. Merlin, did you miss food. Miss the taste, the satisfaction that came from it. But now everything tastes off, far too salty or sweet. But still, you've appearances to keep up. So you load your plate with a enough food to keep Sebastian from questioning and shove a mouthful of potatoes in your mouth.
You've practiced this, blending in and acting as if nothing had changed. The potatoes make you want to gag but still you swallow, reach for a glass of water.
No one bats an eye, no one realizes that you're no longer human.
All but professor Sharp, you think, the familiar sensation of your fangs aching to release making you stop chewing. You've done so well so far, keeping him from your thoughts, but you can't help it, you look up at him. He sits at the High table alongside the rest of the professors, his attention held by professor Garlick.
It's silly really, but you can't help the wave of jealousy that makes you sit up straight, makes you clench your fork a little tighter. Ever since early morning, when you two had crossed a line that you've never once been tempted to, he had been ignoring you. He hadn't said a single word to you alone ever since he left the class and came back reeking of smoke. You had handed him the Potion of Clarity that he had assigned as your first remedial work, and he had simply taken it and handed you a piece of parchment with instructions for the next.
The sudden change, having him go from showering you with affection as he f*cked you to turning into a cold, distant bastard (For there was no other word you could use to describe him at the moment) had you reeling, your stomach suddenly sinking to the floor.
No matter if you raised your hand to answer a question, or if you asked for assistance, he ignored you. If you were a bit more emotional, perhaps you would cry. If you were a bit more reactive, you could see yourself demanding he tell you what it was that you had done to deserve this. But you were neither. You simply got too into your head and retreated, stopped trying to figure him out.
You had bit him, had taken too much blood. Perhaps he was mad at that. He could even be afraid of you, what if you hadn't stopped? What if you had kept drinking and drinking until Aesop Sharp was no more? It did not matter that he had asked you, you should have said no. Should have shown more self control.
You eat a slice of roast and look away from him when he laughs.
It had been rather foolish, letting yourself believe that there was any meaning to the sex you had with him. People have meaningless sex all the time. He had told you last night, that drinking blood acted as an aphrodisiac for both of you. He did not have any feelings for you, he was simply acting out of lust.
If you were idiotic enough to think more of it, that was your own fault. You just had to remind yourself that if you hadn't sunken your teeth in him, he wouldn't have kissed you and you wouldn't have to sit here, conflicted on whether your emotions were real or not.
It was the blood talking, making you ache for his touch again. It had been almost half the day since he had filled you, but still your body refused to forget the feeling of having him buried inside of you, the feeling of his lips on your neck or the lightness of his fingers as he stroked your head.
You could feel a warmth rise to your face the more you thought about it, your body aching to feel him, to hear him call you his again. You had to press your thighs together as you told yourself that it would never happen again.
You would not drink from him again, would not let you fall for a man who cared nothing for you.
Sebastian nudges you and you push all thoughts of Professor Aesop Sharp from your mind, joining your friends in conversation.
You consider skipping his class as you lay awake in bed, the sun barely coming up. Its pathetic really, and you spend a good chunk of time degrading yourself as you watch the sun rise. It's past five, you can see the giant clock tower now and you wonder if he waited for you. If he sat in his lonesome, checking his watch, waiting for the moment you walked through the door.
He probably had more work for you. More potions to brew, more inches to write. You could hear him in the back of your mind, chastising you for not taking advantage of his kindness, for not caring about your grades. Which wasn't true, you cared a lot about your standing. But you just couldn't face him alone. Couldn't trust yourself to have enough strength to refuse if he offered you his vein. All he had to do was roll his sleeve up and your mind would become a muddled mess. Whether you were hungry or not.
When your roommates start getting ready, you join them. You wash another sleepless night from your face, dress in your uniform and gather your books and wand.
You skip breakfast and head down to the library, wondering if Madame Scribner came in so early, or if perhaps she was still out, giving you enough time to wonder through the books unbothered.
It would be your luck, that while you were heading down the steps, professor Sharp was ascending them, a tome you've seen in the restriction area in his arms. He pauses at the same time you do, the silence suddenly deafening. You have nowhere to look but at him, and the anger that radiates off of him his palpable. You consider turning around and fleeing for the safety of your common room. But his words root you in place before you could make a decision.
"I have half a mind to stake you myself, you absolute foolish girl. Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? How sure I was that perhaps something happened to you? But no, there's not a scratch on you, is there? Tell, me," he talks without a single emotion crossing his face, pure annoyance dripping from every word, his eyes locked on to yours. "What reason will you give me for not keeping your word?"
"I, uh," you stumble over your words, and he shoots you a glare that has a warmth spreading across your face. You swallow as he takes a step towards you.
"Are you incapable of using your words?" he presses, his tone mocking. "Perhaps you have lost the ability to speak altogether. Is that it?"
You gather your composure and muster the courage to respond, despite the intensity of his gaze. "No, that's not it. I apologize for the delay and any worry I may have caused you."
His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "Apologies mean nothing without an explanation. Why did you not keep your word?"
Having him this close is dizzying, his breath against your cheek makes your body remember the way he touched you. You can feel the pressure of your fangs trying to come out as you press your thighs together. "I'm sorry." you force out, scrambling to take a step back and gather some distance before you're tempted to sink your teeth into his neck or worse, sink down onto your knees. The staircase could only afford so much privacy. "I woke up late, it wont happen again."
It's a pathetic excuse and you can tell he knows its nothing but a lie by the scoff he lets out.
"You cannot afford to wake up late. Not with your failing grade, not with your," he pauses to lean in, his face so close to yours that all you had to do was lean up for your lips to touch his. "Appetite unmanaged, do you understand? You're different from the others, and you need to prove yourself capable of handling your responsibilities."
"Or what," you say bitterly, every bit of lust disappearing from your body. "You're going to sic the Ministry on me? Have me killed because of what I am?" You push past him as you speak, trying to get away. As if you had no clue to what you were, to the fact that you were no longer the person you were before you had been attacked in the forbidden forest. A simple mistake, and now you were nothing but a monster. "If that's what you want to do," you say over your shoulder, already a few steps away from him. "Then do it already, stop pretending like you have an ounce of care for me."
You hear him swear under his breath as he follows you into the Library. "Stop walking away and let me explain myself." he calls after you but you're in no mood for a lecture.
You pause, turning around to glare at him. "I don't have anything to talk to you about, Professor. You said it yourself, I'm nothing but a-" your voice lowers until its a bitter whisper "Blood sucking monster. So just save yourself the headache, be done with me already."
"I'm sorry,"
His voice is so gentle, so unlike him that you close your mouth and bite your tongue, holding back the way you want to snap at him.
"I'm no good with words, with expressing myself. When you did not show this morning I began to worry. That something had happened to you, that perhaps you've grown afraid of me for what I did to you-"
You cut him off, not understanding him. "What you did to me? You haven't done a single thing to me, I'm the one that hurt you. That's why you wouldn't look at me, why you got so angry with me."
"Angry? You thought I was angry?" he frowned and you could not help but match it. "Why would I be angry at you?"
"Was it disgust instead?" you do nothing to hide the pain in your voice.
"I am not disgusted by you. I do not have any ill thoughts towards you. If you could just let me speak without interrupting me," he snapped and you pursed your lips. "Let me explain myself before your mind keeps feeding you wild scenarios, please."
You feel your face warming as you nod. "Sorry, I'll keep quiet."
The sudden sound of one of the doors slamming open almost makes your fangs slip out, your heart racing as you slap a hand over your mouth and let out a tiny yelp. The two Ravenclaw students who walk in pay you no mind, turning down an aisle and disappearing, voices dropping down to a whisper.
"Perhaps we should discuss this another time," Professor Sharp says, irritably. But you don't want to wait until he decides when and where is more appropriate so you stand up straighter and almost reach for him.
"We could talk in the back, I know a quiet place away from any portraits."
He eyes you cautiously, almost as if he could read your thoughts, before sighing and shifting the tome he held to his other arm. "Then let us talk there."
You stop yourself from beaming and give him a curt nod, turning and walking towards the farthest corner on the left, past the spiral staircase, and down an aisle full of dusty Arithmancy books. There hasn't been such a class in years, so one one ever came this way.
You used to hide here during your first year as a Hogwarts student, when everything had been too much for you to handle. Now you barely came unless you were hiding from someone. Usually Sebastian.
The corner is barely lit, the glow of the candle too soft to properly illuminate everything. There are two chairs- One wooden, tucked into a tiny study table, and one plush grandfather seat. You take the wooden one and act like you don't hear the sound of disappointment professor Sharp makes as he sits in the more comfortable one.
"Alright," you say, not quite liking the silence. "Where lies your issues with me?"
The noise he makes, one of pure frustration, makes you glad that you can barely see his face.
"How have you managed to convince yourself that somehow I've an issue with you?"
"Do you want me to answer that?"
"No." he says firmly and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep quiet.
He sighs and you can make out the way he pushes his hair from his face. "I have laid awake all night trying to think of the best way to apologize for touching you, for all the vile and repulsive things I did and said to you. There is no excuse I can make to justify any of it."
You feel your chest tighten at the pain in his voice, your own voice nowhere to be found as he continues.
"I've brewed you a potion, I will not have you carry my child," You watch as he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a vial of a violet colored contraceptive potion. He holds it out and you grab it, mindful of touching him. You drink it as he keeps talking.
"I can ask for your forgiveness, but I know that I do not deserve it."
You wait to see if there's more to his woeful speech as you lick your lips, wondering if he made the potion taste like blackberries just for you. He does not keep talking so you open your mouth and find bravery in the darkness.
"I have done nothing but think about how good it felt to sleep with you." your face warms and he lets out a pained, almost choked groan. "I never once thought that it was a mistake, that I was taken advantage of. I don't understand how you've come to such an outrageous conclusion. Here I thought that you hated me."
"Why would I hate you?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
You hummed, tilting your head to the side. "For what I've done to you. For what I am. For forcing you to do something you clearly regret."
He doesn't deny any of it and you try to act like that doesn't hurt. The silence lingers and you wonder if this is the end of the conversation. If this is it? No closure, only a lingering sense of pain? Right before you decide to leave, he talks and pulls you from your thoughts.
"I do not regret f*cking you," he says and you have to press your legs together at the way his voice became a growl at the word 'f*cking'. "I am angry at the circ*mstance that led me to them. At not being strong enough to control myself... at wanting you."
"You want me?" you sputter, your face warming as you squeeze your thighs again.
"Yes, you foolish girl, I want you." His admittance is sad, almost as if he hates it.
But you don't linger on that, not when he stands over you, your throat drying at the way he looks at you with a mixture of anger and defeat. As if he's finally done fighting himself, fighting his desires.
"I think about you sinking your teeth into me, the way you flush as you drink from me...Do you want to know how long I spent stroking myself to you last night? Recalling the way you milked me for everything I had while you almost bled me dry?"
You have no strength to stop yourself from transforming, your fangs slipping out with a whimper, your eyesight improving as you stare at him. You could see him clearly now. Could see the furrow in his brow, the downturn of his lips, but most importantly, you could see the lust in his dark eyes. Could feel it radiate off of him, choking you far more than the smell of his blood has ever done.
"Professor-"
"Aesop. Please, call me Aesop." he begged. "I do not want to be your Professor right now."
"Aesop," you whisper, the warmth on your face worsening as his hands settled on the arms of your chair, his body leaning down closer, enclosing you in the small space. Everything you wanted to say suddenly became a muddled mess, your throat constricting as his eyes refused to look away from you.
"You are so strikingly beautiful like that, my sweet little vampire."
He does not kiss you, even though you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on yours, wanted to taste him until you were dizzy from overindulgence. Instead, he sinks to his knees and pushes your legs apart, stroking the soft material of your tights as your heart leaps into your throat and your eyes widen.
"Let me beg for forgiveness with my tongue." he whispers into the darkness, "Let me show you how you've ruined me."
Even though every inch of you knows that this is a bad idea, that simply because you have never seen or heard of anyone that came to this little corner of the library did not mean that it was abandoned. There could be a Ravenclaw on their way over right now for all you knew, ready to fill their brain with the horrifically boring art of Arithmancy.
Still, when he pushed against your legs you offered no resistance, even went as far as lifting your hips when his fingers slid towards your waistband.
"We'll get caught, Professor." your voice is a weak whisper as you feel his fingers grasp your underwear alongside your tights and pull them down your legs.
"Then you best be good and keep quiet... Merlin, look how wet your c*nt is."
You almost press your legs together at hearing him say such a thing, letting out a noise that you could only describe as pathetic. But he holds your legs open and looks up at you with curiosity.
"You were not shy at all yesterday, what's changed?"
"I've never..." you trail off, unable to say the words when his thumb runs along the length of your c*nt and you arch off the chair with a mewl.
"You've f*cked before but have never had a man please you with their mouth?" He made a clicking noise with his tongue as he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it clean. "Tell me, who did you f*ck?"
"I don't think that's appropriate." you squeak, c*nt squeezing at nothing at his teasing.
He ignored you, pulling your waist up until you got the hint and held it in your hand, right against your stomach. He pulled you towards the edge of the wooden seat, and spread your legs even more, his face so close to you that you could feel every single one of his breaths against your cl*t. It made you moan, heat pooling in your belly.
"Tell me. Tell me what man would see such a pretty little c*nt and not want to sink his tongue into it."
You let out a whimper as you shook your head defiantly, sinking your fangs into your bottom lip so hard that you could taste blood. Your own didn't taste quite so appealing but still you licked it off as he watched you with a raised brow.
"Are you hungry?"
"No."
He didn't seem to believe you, pulling his face away from your dripping c*nt and it took all your strength not to whine and push him back down.
"Aesop, I'm serious. I don't need it!" you scrambled to say as he began to take off his jacket.
"But do you want it? Do you want to sink your teeth into me and take my blood?"
You didn't have the strength to say no, letting go of your skirt instead.
"Don't," he chastised you, grabbing at your wrist. "You will drink my blood as I eat your c*nt."
You swore you heard a ringing in your ears as everything suddenly clicked into place.
"Was this what you wanted all along? To have me bite you?" Its rather uncanny, how smooth your voice is, what nerves had been running through your veins seemingly disappearing as if it hadn't been there moments before. Your mouth watered at the thought of taking his blood, your fangs aching in anticipation as you left your skirt alone and grabbed at his wrist.
You swore that you could feel the rush of his blood underneath your fingers as you brought his wrist towards you and licked your lips, eyes never leaving his.
"Is this what you want, Aesop?" you moan as your lips graze the inside of his wrist and you feel him tense. "Do you want me to drink your blood?"
You can see the hesitation in his eyes as you patiently wait for his answer before sinking your teeth into him. There's a sense of unease there, as if he wants to pull away and stop this and it scares you a bit.
Scares you that you might not let him.
He grins, a wicked, predatory spread of his lips as his fingers sunk into your thigh, nails almost breaking skin.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Quite," you respond out of breath, dizzy from the smell of his blood, the sound of his erratic heartbeat. You just wanted to sink your teeth into him and lose yourself in the pleasure that came from feeding. But he kept his arm rigid, no matter how many times you pulled it did not move. "One would think that you were the Vampire."
"I would not be as strong as you if I was," he speaks while running his nails across the inside of your thigh, inching closer to your c*nt. "To have such a beautiful woman such as yourself begging me to f*ck her..." he trailed off with a groan, closing his eyes as if he could imagine it all and you let out a noise of frustration.
At his teasing touch, at the fact that you want to know what he pictured in his mind but he so selfishly kept it all to himself.
"Tell me," you begged, "Please."
He let out a tiny laugh, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of the bell that announced that Breakfast ended and first classes would begin soon. He did not move and so you worried not about it.
"How I would f*ck your tight little c*nt until no other co*ck could bring you pleasure. Fill you with every drop of my seed until you spill, your c*nt swollen and coated." He let out a groan, eyes rolling back even though they were close. "How I wish to f*ck you until you cry, until you beg me to stop, puss* so swollen that it hurts."
"And will you?" you say, out of breath as his fingers ghost over your cl*t. 'So close, so close. please touch me, please, please, please.' you beg internally, mouth radiating in pain as the lust in his veins only amplified your hunger.
"No," he growls, finally touching your c*nt. It's electric, has you arching off the chair with a strangled moan as his cold, slender fingers slide through your sopping c*nt. "I would tell you to take it, to be good and take my co*ck until I am satisfied. Then I will sink my teeth into you... How I wish you could feel what its like, having you feed from me."
You could barely keep up with him. The words he spoke, the way he touched you- it was all too much. Your hips raised and tried to match the languid way he stroked you, played with your cl*t but it just wasn't enough.
"I need-"
"What do you need?" he groaned. "Do you want my fingers inside? f*cking you here in the library, so many people already here?"
You let out a whimper, shaking and nodding your head as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure.
"Blood?" he asked, teasing your entrance with a finger. "Do you want my blood?"
All you could do was mewl and open your mouth, showing your fangs. You wanted it all.
He sunk a finger inside your c*nt at the same time he pressed his wrist against your mouth.
"I am yours," he whispered and you sunk your fangs into his vein.
He was wrong. So very, very wrong.
You were his.
