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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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The Dork And The Nerd

Hello there!

I didn't post anything with Leah since like for ever, so there it is!

Please enjoy :)

TW : None I think, or please let me know :)

Looking around the room, you readjust the camera one last time before starting your stream. It’s your job, even if some people are still saying that it isn’t a real job and stupid things like that.

You were winning your life easily with it, living your dream. You always loved playing video games, you started alone because it wasn’t what your little sisters were loving to do. When you discovered online games it was a life changing for you. You started streaming when you were 18 years old, which was seven years ago now. It was hard at first to be honest, being a woman in this man world.

But you find some friends in popular streamers who took you under their wings and help you to be where you are now.

You have several thousand people who follow you to each of your live, four night each week. You still have some shit to deal with, like harassers, but you took a manager who is the one reading your mail. He takes on him to choose your different partnership and sometimes answer to the people sending you strange things.

You are openly gay, but that doesn’t make stop some of men to send you disturbing pictures. Thanks god it’s your agent who see them, but you are aware of it. Just like your girlfriend, though.

You start your stream like usual, saying hello to your followers and talking a little bit about actuality or what you did today. You have a white kitten, who you called Purrito, who is almost as famous as you are. He keeps coming when you are playing, sometimes lying on your hand, or trying to catch the mouse of your computer. You already have a lot of bloopers because of him, but you can’t be mad with him.

Lately, your passion for video games seems to have catch the attention of your girlfriend. She always was looking at you when you are streaming, when she can. You usually do it during the evening so she’s back from training or games.

When Leah asked you to learn to her how to play video games, at first you thought she was messing with you. But she was really serious and ask you one more time. And who are you to refuse something to your girlfriend?

At first it was just to have fun, but you soon have an idea, and you used your best puppy eyes to get your girlfriend agreed with it. You wanted to make her play with you, but without her showing her face in your screen.

You never talked about Leah being your girlfriend, even if you are together for two years now. The public know that you are in a relationship, you sometimes mention your girlfriend live. They just don’t know who she is.

You met Leah at a ceremony and Katie who is a fan of your job took Leah when she went to met you. You were happy to met Katie, but you find yourself thunderstruck by Leah. You don’t remember if you were really coherent that night, but Leah followed you back almost immediately when you did it on Instagram.

You waited the next Arsenal games to sent her a message, congratulating her for her performance. You even take a picture of you in the stand with your father (who really was surprised when you ask him to go with you to a women football game). Leah answered you that next time you come you have to tell her, so she could give you a better seat.

You didn’t know if she was serious or not, but she then asked you the next game in London if you are coming and she find you a seat in the friends and family area. After the game she offers you to go for a drink. You then had other dates, and the rest is history.

You got together one month before she did her ACL and even if it was a hard time, you both get stronger. You let Lia Wälti take the lead in Leah’s recovery, but you were always around to help too. When Lia return to her home, you were the one staying with Leah at night. And you kept taking her in her rehab and cooking for her.

The day Leah started to run again, you were at the training to watch her. This is the day where she officially asked you to move in with her now that she could do things alone again. Unless cooking maybe, but that’s another question.

You accepted of course and the blonde happily transformed one of her guest room in your studio of stream.

It’s where you are now, Leah peacefully setting on your living room, ready to go live with you.

“Oh, it looks like our guest is here” you smile when you see that Leah is connected too. “Hi Baby!”

You only said to your viewers that it was your girlfriend, without saying anything else. You are aware that maybe someone will recognize Leah’s voice, but it would be fun anyway.

“Hi Love” she answers.

You make a reminder of the game you were going to play, for her first live Leah chose a car games, Trackmania. It wasn’t your favorite game, but you were so happy that she said yes to you that you would have accept a Tetris game.

“How are you?” you ask her, while making the game ready.

“I’m fine. Happy to play with you tonight.”

“I am happy too” you smile before looking at the camera. “Let’s have her a good evening guys so she will accept to do it more often yeah?”

You hear Leah chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. You already are seeing comments saying that you look whipped, what makes you roll your eyes. It seems to you that Leah’s voice is a little different from what it is in reality, but maybe your mind is playing trick.

You play several runs with Leah, before switching to another game after talking with your chat who recommend to you to make Leah try an adventure RPG. When you look at the clock again, it’s past midnight.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize that it was already so late” you exclaimed yourself. “We are going to stop here guys, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we will try Minecraft or something else, I’ll let you know. I hope you had as fun as I had Babe.”

“It was really fun. Thank you for inviting me.”

You can hear Leah smile and you can’t wait to go to the living room for a cuddle and kiss session. When you played together until know, you were able to show each other or tease the other with kisses.

“You will be invited for more times” you smirk.

Leah left and you take the time to thanks your viewers a little more longer before logging off. You stretch, finishing your bottle of water before going to find Leah. You run on the stairs and Leah already knew you were coming before you jump on the couch next to her.

She laughs when you attack her with kisses all over her face, finishing on her lips.

“Did you really have fun?” you ask, looking at her with attention.

She nods, playing with your hair. She’s smiling and every time you look at her, you wonder how in the world you get so lucky. She’s perfect.

“I did” she smiles at you. “I’m not saying that I want to do that all the night every night, but it was great.”

“Mh I maybe have another idea for us to have fun all night” you smirk.

The tone of your voice is very obvious and if Leah had one doubt, she just has to look the way you are looking at her. Your fingers run on her tight and you kiss her one more time, before sucking slightly at her neck.

Leah gulp and just hums, tilting her head on the side for you to have a better access. You know what you are doing, after more than two years, you know Leah’s body and reactions like the back of your hand.

“Let’s go to bed” Leah decides several seconds after, taking your hand before dragging you in your bedroom on the first floor.

********

“It was a great session.”

You smile at Leah who came to your studio after you played together again. You were still sitting when she entered the room, and she passed her hand around your shoulder from behind to kiss your cheek.

“It was” you smile before turning your chair to face Leah.

She sits on your lap, and you pass your arms around her. It wasn’t the second time that you are playing together while you are streaming, today you chose Fifa and it was very fun. You made the pact not to play with Arsenal or England, but it was still very funny. Leah is a very bad looser, so you play several games in the same team too.

“People are starting to have some suspicion though” Leah says.

She was right, you saw on social media some things about your girlfriend being Leah. But it wasn’t the only name coming.

“Yeah, they said I will make a great couple with some of your teammates too” you shrug, before counting on your fingers “They are talking about Sabrina, Alessia, Kyra and Lia.”

Leah frown, not really liking the picture who comes in her mind.

“Nah. You’re mine.” she answers possessively.

“Do you want to tell people?”

Leah looks at you, thinking for several seconds before answering. This is lasting for some weeks now and you know that you can’t stay hidden forever. You attract the attention of the world by playing together.

“Not now. It’s fun like this, don’t you think?”

“It is” you confirm with a smile.

Leah has the habit to be coupled with every teammate and you are sometimes shipped with other streamers. You like to stream with other of them, certain being your friends too. There is nothing much, but that doesn’t stop people to imagine that you are dating one of them.

But you have to admit too that your stream with Leah attracts more people than usual, and you are a little scared that people will assume that you’re using your girlfriend for the views.

Your face being very close to Leah, she seems to realize very quickly that something is on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

“Nothing” you say at first, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I already have some viewers saying that I’m using my girlfriend to gain more viewers, so I was wondering how they would react when they realize it’s you.”

You shrug to show her that it’s not really important, you don’t want to think you are worried about something so little.

“If someone say that you know what my answer will be?” Leah asks with a serious face.

“No” you mumble.

“I will tell them that we are together for two years, that you have been the best girlfriend in the world since. I will tell them how affectionate, caring, sweet, funny, clever and passionate you are.”

You can’t help but smile and feel your cheek being a little red at that statement. Leah smirks and kisses your cheek.

“And I’ll add that if you use me, it’s only in the bedroom and the way you do is actually very talented and also very private.”

You laugh this time, hitting her on the arm. Leah seems very happy about her joke, her eyes shinning with malice. She’s so beautiful. You bite her jaw before whispering.

“You’re such a dork.”

“The Nerd and the Dork, it would be a great book title” she smirks.

“You’re not totally wrong.”

********

“You’re cheating!”

You can’t help but laugh at Leah. You are playing once again against your girlfriend, during a live. You are playing at Mario Kart and you just won the race for the third time in a row. She’s fuming and even if you can’t see her, the noise coming from downstairs are letting you know that she’s actually kicking the ground right now.

“I’m not, Baby I swear. You can’t cheat in this game.”

“Yes, you are!”

You roll your eyes, not answering anything. You are of course very aware about of much your girlfriend hates to lose. You are at the first place while Leah is third, which is really good for someone who isn’t playing video games daily like you. But not for the great Leah Williamson.

“Someone in the comment is saying that I will sleep on the couch. I won’t Babe, right?”

“I’m not sure about it for now” Leah grumbles. “Or maybe I’ll go sleep to the trai…”

You cough suddenly and Leah stops talking, realizing what she was just about to say. You really hope that no one would understand what she was going to say. Or at least another end of sentence, not “training ground”.

“Alright, next game” you say right after.

“I’m gonna crush you.”

She doesn’t and when you join her in the kitchen after, she seems really embarrassed. You ignore the different messages asking what Leah wanted to say and the answer some of them gave. You saw that some people where right and you know that the research will start again.

“I’m so sorry” she says, coming for you while you’re entering the room. “I was fuming because I was losing, and I forgot for some seconds that it wasn’t only you and me.”

You smile, easily passing your arms around her to give her a hug. She cuddles against you when you kiss her temple.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. Plus, you are the most famous between the both of us, you will be the most annoyed by all that.”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

Leah back up her head a little bit, just to be able to have a better look at your face. You arch an eyebrow before answering.

“Because you always told me you want privacy.”

It was in the early hours of your relationship, and you never said anything against it. You understood Leah’s needs, at this time you weren’t as famous as you are right now. She wanted to be known for her skills, her job in football or her implications in different charities. And the point was very easy for you to be understood. Your friends are families know obviously about you two, it would be strange and difficult to hide a relationship when you live together. Plus because of her answer last time you talked about it, you were really sure that it was what she want.

“I told you that at first, but now I wouldn’t mind if people start to know about us.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but your mind just blown. You were used to the idea of people stay in the ignorance about your relationship and the love you have for this woman. As long as you have her, why would you complain?

“Do you… Really?” you frown.

“Yeah, I mean if you don’t want to be out…”

“No, I do. I just thought that you would like to stay private for like forever?”

“I love you. I want the world to know how happy you make me. But in several weeks. I want to play with your fans a little more.”

“Sounds good to me” you smirk. “And I love you too.”

********

For the next weeks, you chose one day of the week to play and stream with Leah. Between those days, you were careful to post some things on social media, giving little clues to your followers about the identity of your girlfriend. You never posted something with Leah or even with a part of her hand or hair. It was more subtle than that.

Until one day, where you were peacefully streaming while Leah went out with her friends. You usually go with her, but today it was more an unexpected drink, so you already have something planned on your channel. You have an entire trust in Leah, and you know that nothing would ever happen with anyone. If you go with her almost every time, it’s only to have a great time with her.

Plus, tonight she’s out with Katie, Caitlin, Steph, her boyfriend, and Kyra, so there are really no risks.

You usually wait for Leah to text you that she was coming home to cut your stream, so you have the time to finish what you are doing and say goodbye to your viewers. Tonight though, either you didn’t see her message, or she forgot to send it to you.

Still, there is suddenly a stunning blonde who enters your studio, showing herself in the camera at the same time. You are so surprised that you only can look at her on the screen of your camera.

“Hello Hot stuff! You won’t believe what I just learned about Kyra! Did you k- … Oh shit.”

That’s the moment she realizes. It was almost comical to be honest, the enthusiastic tone with which she began her sentence, the moment of silence and the last words spoken in a low voice.

You only have like two seconds to decide if you want to cut the stream and never talk about it again, or if it’s time to be honest with everyone. You chose a third way and turn to the camera.

“Well it’s time for me to say goodbye. See you tomorrow at eight. Thanks for being here!”

You wave and cut the stream and the camera before turning in Leah’s direction. She seems amused but she has at the same time the same look on the face of a teenager caught doing something wrong.

“Funny way to outing things, this clip will be viral” you comment with a small smile.

“I’m sorry?”

Leah can’t hide her smile and you can’t either. You can be mad at her for something like that. You let Leah comes to sit on your lap, kissing her softly when she’s settled. She taste like tequila.

“How was your night?”

“Great. But I missed you.”

She hides her face in your neck, and you feel the goosebumps forming when her breath stroke your skin.

“Did you have fun?”

She hums, start to kiss your neck and you know that the discussion you were supposed to have right now is delayed for now. You will have a lot of time to talk about it later. Your phones are way too busy receiving tons notifications to be able to do anything with it right now anyway.

********

YourInstagram and LeahWilliamson

liked by liawalti, leahwilliamson, alessia, bethmead and 199,937 others

YourInstagram Two years and a half with this dork. I love you ❤️🤍

comments have been limited

leahwilliamson I love you more my Nerd ❤️🤍

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x you #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

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birdiewriteslit · 6 months

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“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl player x reader #nj devils #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier one shot #nh13 #olivia rodrigo #so american #new jersey devils #hockey imagine

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 year

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

It's June, so it's time for a little history lesson:

You probably know that June is Pride Month, but do you know why this month was choosen? It's because of the Stonewall Riots that happened in June in the year 1969, in a bar called Stonewall Inn in New York (USA).

In the 60s, engaging in "gay behavior" in public (like holding hands, kissing or dancing) was illegal. Violent police raids of gay bars were common.

Especially trans women of color were regularly arrested and subjected to police brutality during those raids. Police officers would also sexually harrass them by taking them to the bathroom to “verify their sex”.

In the early hours of June 28, 1969 there was one of those (homophobic and transphobic) police raids happening in the bar mentioned above.

A police officer hit a woman (Stormé DeLarverie) on the head with a baton after she complained that her handcuffs were too tight. This sparked the crowd to fight back. They threw objects (such as pennies, bottles and stones) at the police, which ultimately led to serveral nights of rioting.

These riots are the event that paved the way for the modern gay rights movement. Within a few months, at least two organizations and three newspapers to promote lgbt+ rights were founded.

One year later, there was the first “Christoper Street Liberation Day” in New York (named after the street where the riots started). Their official chant was: “Say it loud, gay is proud.”

Eight years later, Sweden celebrated the first “Christoper Street Liberation Day”, the first Pride event in Europe. Nowadays, there are Pride Events all over the world.

Of course this is just a short and simplified overview. If you want to deepen your knowledge, there are plenty of ways online to learn more about the history of Pride Month! For example, here is an more in-depth article by history.com

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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eretzyisrael · 4 months

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by POTKIN AZARMEHR

‘Pro-Palestine’ protests have become a near-weekly occurrence across Britain. Since Hamas’s 7 October massacre, regular marches have been drawing in a growing number of young people, marked by passionate advocacy and fervent slogans. Yet despite their zeal, many of these protesters lack a fundamental understanding of the conflict they are so vociferously decrying.

In the past six months, I have attended many of these marches. Having engaged with numerous protesters, I have noticed a startling disconnect between their strong opinions on the Gaza conflict and their shaky grasp of basic facts about it. Among the most perplexing are the LGBT and feminist groups (the ‘Queers for Palestine’ types) who flirt with justifying Hamas’s atrocities. This is a bewildering alliance, given that Hamas’s Islamist ideology is clearly antithetical to the rights and values these groups claim to champion. Its reactionary agenda is profoundly hostile to women’s rights and LGBT individuals.

Protesters seem eager to make excuses for Hamas, but are conspicuously uninformed about exactly what or who this terrorist group represents. On 18 May, during a protest at Piccadilly Circus in London, I spoke to demonstrators who firmly believed that Hamas represents all Palestinians. When I questioned a well-educated participant about the last Palestinian election, she was unaware that none had occurred since 2006, when Hamas gained power in Gaza.

It wasn’t just young people who were uninformed. An older woman with an American accent, seemingly a veteran protester, admitted she knew that Hamas was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood, but had no deeper knowledge of its ideology or history. Others, such as members of revolutionary socialist groups, displayed similar gaps in understanding, unaware of critical events like the 1979 Iranian Revolution.

That revolution gave birth to the Islamic Republic of Iran, a theocratic regime that brutally oppresses its own citizens. It also sponsors Islamist groups like Hamas. I left Iran for the UK not long after that regime began and have spent years resisting its religious extremism and ruthless political intolerance. Protesters were not only unaware of these facts about the Iranian regime, but also ill-informed about the struggle against it, such as the ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ protests against the government that began in 2022.

One particularly telling conversation involved a man advocating for a ‘Global Intifada’ to replace capitalism with socialism. When asked about successful socialist models, he was unfamiliar with the Israeli kibbutzim, one of history’s few successful egalitarian experiments. His ignorance of these communal settlements in Israel, built by socialist Jewish immigrants, was all too typical.

Perhaps the most telling moment was captured by commentator Konstantin Kisin earlier this year, when he encountered a young man holding a ‘Socialist Intifada’ placard. The protester admitted he had no idea what this meant and that he had taken the sign simply because it was handed to him.

Reflecting on past movements, such as the American anti-Vietnam War protests of the 1960s and the British Anti-Apartheid Movement of the 1980s, one can’t help but note a stark contrast. Protesters then were generally well-informed about their causes. Today’s pro-Palestine protests, however, seem to be driven more by unthinking fervour than by an understanding of the issues at hand.

Throughout all these protests, I am yet to encounter a single participant who condemns Hamas or carries a placard denouncing its terrorism. This not only undermines the protesters’ cause, but also risks aligning them with groups whose values fundamentally oppose the very rights and freedoms they claim to support. It appears that today’s young protesters are high on ideology, but woefully thin on facts.

Potkin Azarmehr is an Iranian activist and journalist who left Iran for the UK after the revolution of 1979.

#pro palestine protests #ignorance #london

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autumnshighlady · 8 months

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Yes, sir

Eris x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: you've been trying to impress Dr. Vanserra for weeks, and an opportunity presents itself when he offers you private study sessions ;)

warnings: smut, power dynamic, name calling, oral sex (f receiving), thigh riding, face sitting, fingering, inappropriate use of mirror, tw: Ianthe

word count: 6.7k

request/prompt: Eris would undoubtedly be a history teacher, sarcastic at times and rigid

a/n: i got my degree in medieval history so there's a bit of rambling in this fic about my area of study since Eris is a history professor, figured i spent 4 years researching it so may as well incorporate it into this fic lmao feel free to breeze past the reader's monologue about the study material (or read it if you're interested hehe)

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“Does anyone know why this manuscript was significant to political theory at the time of its creation?”

A few hands raised around you in the lecture hall, yours included. Political history professor Dr. Eris Vanserra paced slowly across the floor, his amber eyes scanning the rows of students for someone to pick on. His red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, a look that had more than a few of you swooning. His red button up shirt complimented the brown tweed jacket on his shoulders, an outfit that no doubt cost you more than you made in a month. Dr. Vanserra always had the nicest outfits out of all your professors, never coming to class with a thread out of place.

Over the last few weeks, you had come to terms with the fact that you were harbouring an intense crush on him. You couldn’t help it – he spoke with such elegance, explaining the most boring concepts in a way that had you utterly entranced. Frequently, you found yourself staring at his slender hands, which he often gestured with as he spoke. He was a strict professor, who had no patience for any fooling around during class. But his dry jokes were laced with sarcasm, adding to his charming wit. Everyone tried to impress him – Dr. Vanserra was a distant male, often brushing off students in his office hours as if he wanted as little interaction as possible. He never complimented their work either, a simple head nod being the closest anyone has gotten to positive feedback. He was quick to point out what you did wrong, never beating around the bush.

And so you moved your seat from the back of the class to the front, always making sure to be the first student in the door and the last one to leave. It was tough, with other students just as eager to gain a minute of his attention. But you welcomed the challenge, craving to be the one who broke his rigid exterior and get him to show that he at least had a heart. That included always being ready to answer any questions.

Eris’s glowing gaze landed on you, and your heart fluttered. For a moment, you were sure he would call on you to answer the question. But his gaze came as quickly as it left, landing on the blonde female two seats down from you, Ianthe.

“They’re important because they were written by a woman,” Ianthe said proudly, her annoying voice raising three pitches higher than what you knew was her normal voice. “The only one of its time, too. Proof that women in the elite class were learning to read and write just like the men.”

Ianthe proudly lifted her chin up, satisfied with her answer. Dr. Vanserra took a single step towards her, and she crossed her arms together and leaned her elbows on the table, her big eyes wide as she batted her lashes at the professor. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her lack of subtly, noting how ridiculous she looked trying to push her breasts together to show off her cleavage.

“A weak and shallow take, Ianthe, as per usual.” Eris said, sarcastic disappointment lacing his voice.

You had to cough to conceal your laugh. Ianthe was always trying to suck up to Dr. Vanserra, always humiliating herself along the way yet failing to recognize how foolish she looked.

“Is there anyone who can answer my question with a point that’s actually worth my precious time to listen to?” He continued, surveying the hesitant class.

Your hand shot up once again, and this time the professor’s gaze landed on you. He nodded, his stoic face revealing nothing as he waited for you to make your point.

“It’s the only manuscript we currently possess that’s written by a woman in its time,” You began. “That doesn’t mean it’s the only one to have existed. And the author being our only example of a body of literature written by a woman in its era doesn’t mean all elite women were doing the same. Her husband was a close friend of the emperor’s, acting as one of his closest counsellors. It’s highly likely that her husband’s unusually high status is the reason she was able to read and write.”

Dr. Vanserra nodded. “Carry on.”

You tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze as you scrambled to remember your information. “Well, the manuscript itself gives us insight into the political strife of the realm. Many of our other sources from that era never address the problem because they don’t want the history books to remember the bad times. Not only does she directly address the political issues at hand, but she also inserts herself into the narrative, something no other source from its time does. So while it’s written as a book of advice to her son who’s a political prisoner in an enemy court, it gives us insight into 3 aspects of family in that era: feelings, authority, and consciousness. Which also links back to what we talked about last week regarding the connection between the theme of consciousness within this era’s literature.”

You let out a breath, trying not to shake. The professor continued to stare at you, expressionless, leaving you unsure if your points were completely bogus or not. Finally, Dr. Vanserra dipped his head. “Good.” He said plainly, and Ianthe audibly huffed. “Now speaking of last week’s material…”

Dr. Vanserra continued his lecture, and you felt Ianthe shooting daggers at you with her eyes. But you didn’t care, you were too busy riding the high of your first ever praise from the instructor – anyone’s first ever praise from him, now that you thought of it. You happily scrawled down your notes for the remainder of the period, until the clock struck 9am, indicating class was over.

“I will expect the first draft of your midterm essays in three weeks, do not forget.” Dr. Vanserra said as students began packing up. “It’s going to take me a hundred hours to go through them all, so make them worth the headache it will cause me.”

Students began scurrying out the door, and you were grateful that you had no classes for the rest of the day. You packed up your things more slowly, your books and notepads stacked in an organised pile, just how you liked it. You stepped around the front of your desk and scooped them up in your arms, but quickly collided with a blonde female carrying a very full mug of coffee.

“Oh my goodness!” Ianthe squealed, her voice sweet as honey. “Your notes! I am so sorry hun, let me help you clean that up.”

Anger boiled in your blood, and it took everything in you not to yank her by her blonde hair and drag her face through the spilled mess. “It’s ok,” You forced yourself to say through gritted teeth. “It was an accident.”

“Oopsies!” She chuckled, her blue eyes glittering. “See ya!” She skipped away, miniskirt bouncing with every step. Gods, you hated her.

You looked down at your fallen pile of notes, now drenched in caffeine and completely illegible. Kneeling down, you tried to see if anything was salvageable, but nothing remained. Tears welled in your eyes – weeks of hard work, just gone. You felt your white t-shirt sticking to your chest, now strained with brown.

You hadn’t even noticed Dr. Vanserra approach. His pale, slender hand appeared next to yours, picking up a drenched piece of paper. You looked up, seeing him crouched down in front of you.

“Can any of it be saved?” He asked, her voice still stoic but slightly softer.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak without crying yet.

Dr. Vanserra clucked his tongue. “Unfortunate. You’ve worked very hard on those.”

“Those are all my notes from the last few weeks,” You said quietly, lip wobbling. “Sir… I have nothing to work with for my essay draft now.”

He merely hummed as if deep in thought before grabbing the soaked papers from your hands and standing up. You heard him stride over to the trash bin and lift the lid, tossing the remains of the material inside. His expensive shoes clicked on the floor as he walked back over to you. His hand reached out, coming into your lowered field of view.

You looked up at him through teary eyes, confused.

“Come on, get up.” Dr. Vanserra said, sighing. “She wins if you sit like that, just sulking. So get up and come with me.”

Trying not to tremble, you grabbed his hand. He pulled you up with surprising strength, his hand warm despite the freezing temperature of the room. Wordlessly, he grabbed your bags along with his own, walking out of the lecture hall with long strides. Puzzled, you scrambled to follow, too nervous to say a word. This was the most Dr. Vanserra had ever spoken to you, you didn’t want to risk screwing it up by saying something stupid.

You followed him all the way to his office, shutting the door behind you as you entered the space. Rich tones of red, amber, and green adorned the room, expensive looking furniture and decor scattered everywhere in an organised manner. The office was filled with more candles than you could count, their orange flames flickering gently. Dr. Vanserra set your bags down on one of the chairs before finally speaking.

“Twelve lectures worth of your notes are gone, and you cannot do anything about that.” He said sternly. “So do not cry over it. However, I do not want to see you fall behind and try to redo the notes off of memory alone. You will fail the course if you do so. Therefore, for the next two weeks, we will meet in my office every day at 5pm. Each session we will go over one lecture, and you will redo your notes. We can go slow to ensure you do not miss anything, and you may ask me any questions you need. That will give you only a week to complete your draft, but at least you will not be lacking half the material needed for it. Does this work for you?”

Your jaw went slack. One on one review with the professor? It was the golden ticket you needed to succeed in this course, and you were going to make it count. “Yes, sir, absolutely.” You replied quickly, letting out a breath. “Thank you, Dr. Vanserra, thank you.”

“We are going to be spending a lot of time together over the next two weeks, my dear. You can call me Eris.”

Your heart flipped. “Eris.” You corrected yourself, testing his name on your tongue.

He smirked. “Excellent. Now that we are on a first name basis, I can comfortably tell you that the coffee has rendered your shirt see through.”

The blood drained from your face, and your arms shot from your sides to cover your chest. As luck would have it, you weren’t wearing a bra that day, meaning your nipples were likely visible through the wet white shirt. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You stammered, cheeks flushing red.

“It’s quite alright.” Eris strolled towards a small dresser in the corner of the room, opening up the middle drawer and pulling out a cream coloured polo sweater with a v-neck. “Put this on, I won’t have my student walking around campus with her tits in plain sight.”

You blushed deeply, taking the fabric from him. It was the softest thing you’d felt, and smelled strongly of the cologne you frequently caught a whiff of whenever the professor walked by you. The plainness of his words made your brain go haywire, and you stood there dumbly.

“Unless you want to give me a show, I suggest you turn around and change so I can put your shirt in a bag for you to take home.” Eris said, a hint of mischief behind his amber gaze.

You turned around, reaching down and pulling the ruined t-shirt over your head. You shivered, feeling those eyes burning into your bare back as you carefully held your arm out behind you with the shirt balled inside your fist.

Eris took it, and you heard him turn around and walk away, presumably to grab a bag. You quickly pulled the sweater over your head, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that danced happily at the thought of wearing your professor’s sweater.

“All done.” You said, turning around. “I’ll get this dry cleaned before I give it back.”

The male only shrugged as he tossed your shirt into a spare grocery bag. “Clean it, keep it, shred it, it matters not to me. I have three more identical to that one.”

“Uh, ok.” You muttered. The idea of keeping his sweater felt wrong, but you were secretly thrilled that he suggested it.

Eris took a seat behind his desk, pulling out books from his briefcase. “Now be gone with you, I have research to do. And remember, 5pm tomorrow. Do not be late.”

“I won’t.” You promised, grabbing your bags and making your exit.

Maybe it was a good thing Ianthe spilled her coffee on you.

************************

ONE WEEK LATER

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep hours after your study session with Eris. At first, they had been gruelling. Eris would grill you for every answer you gave him, making sure you could confidently back up your claims. Your brain was exhausted by the end of it, but you were happy. Eris had also given you helpful anecdotes that he hadn’t mentioned to the class. You had twice as many notes as before, and they were twice as helpful.

He was different than when he taught in class. More patient, less demanding. He spoke slower, allowing you to catch up if you fell behind. His strict persona was as rigid as ever in class, but you found he was calling on you more and more to answer questions. It delighted you.

At first, you had sat in the chair in front of his desk. But today, the chair was moved beside his. More than once, your leg knocked against his muscular thigh, and you’d murmur an embarrassed apology. Eris never acknowledged it, only smirked before returning to the material at hand. You still felt the tingling sensation on your own thigh from earlier when he gently squeezed it. You had gotten a tough question right, and Eris had reached down and put his hand on your thigh, quickly squeezing it before retreating.

Your face had gone bright red, and there was no way he hadn’t noticed. Just that one simple action had made your core throb with need. It didn’t help that he had begun calling you pet names, such as ‘my dear’ and ‘love’. You drank them up, his silver tongue making the nicknames sound just right. Every time he said them, it went straight to your core.

Studying with your professor had suddenly become incredibly hard.

You rolled over in your bed once more, hoping that perhaps this side of the sheets would finally bring you sleep. But every time you closed your eyes, all you could think about was Eris’s touch on your thigh, and how it would feel if his hand was higher up, right where you had dreamed about it being. You imagined his slender fingers pumping inside you, filthy words falling from his lips like the first snow of winter, red hair falling in your face was his body moulded over top of yours–

“Get it together.” You scolded yourself. “He’s your fucking professor. It was nothing. Stop overthinking.”

But that didn’t stop you from sneaking your hand between your legs in a last ditch effort to ease yourself into sleep.

************************

A few days later, you checked your outfit in the bathroom mirror at 4:55pm before heading to Eris’s office. You hadn’t slept well last night, so you opted for a casual pair of soft, flowing green pants paired with a simple cream coloured button up. You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed you hadn’t deliberately chosen the pants that seemed to be Eris’s favourite shade of green. It was hard to sleep when all you could think about was how close you were going to be sitting to him the next day.

At 5pm on the dot, you opened the door to his office. “Good evening, sir.” You greeted him, locking the door behind you. It was something he insisted on, claiming he didn’t want his other students barging in thinking you were getting special treatment.

“Hello, my dear.” Eris said. “We’re covering lecture 10 today, I assume you brought the material.”

You nodded, setting your bag next to the desk before making your way around to Eris’s side. You paused, noticing something was missing. “Where’s my chair?” You asked.

“Oh, that thing,” Eris tutted, lips drawn into a faint smirk. “I gave it to my brother for the week. His office chair broke, and he has fifty students lined up outside his office every day who need it more than I do.”

Your mouth was dry, unsure of what game he was playing. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“I think there’s enough room over here for you.” Eris’s voice was velvety and laced with smugness. His brown eyes glowed, like a viper approaching a small creature to make its first strike.

“Oh, do you want me to stand?” You tried hesitantly. No way this was going where you think it was going, right?

“For two hours? I wouldn’t do that to you. Come here.” He beckoned you forward with a come here motion and spread his legs ever so slightly, making your stomach do a somersault. Your body obeyed him without question, stepping forward until Eris grabbed your hand and pulled you down, causing you to fall onto his lap with a yelp. Strong hands gripped your hips, adjusting you so you were perched on his right thing, one leg on each side.

You bit your lip so the whimper that had built in your throat didn’t slip through. Your throbbing core was pressed right into the hard muscle of Eris’s thigh, emitting a heat you were sure he would feel.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He purred, his lips dangerously close to your ear. His breath was warm, sending shivers down your spine.

You stuttered something incoherent in response, but Eris cut you off casually, reaching forward and opening your book. His knee hiked up a bit, pushing his thigh further into your core. This time, you couldn’t stop the noise you let out.

“Are you alright, love?” Eris asked innocently. You gritted your teeth – he knew what he was doing, and was trying to get a reaction from you. As much as you wanted him, you were stubborn.

Two could play this game.

“Just fine.” You quipped, attempting to keep your composure.

“Wonderful. Let us begin.”

************************

An hour later, your lip had indents on it from your teeth. It was the most torturous study session you’d ever had in your life. It was less than 10 minutes in before Eris took it up a notch. He had rested one hand on your hip, a simple gesture as if to steady you. But his thumb found its way underneath the fabric of your shirt and began to rub small circles above the bone.

The more questions Eris asked you, the closer he leaned into you. His lips began grazing your ear as he spoke, driving you wild. He didn’t sit still either, casually moving his leg from time to time, causing you to slide forward, clit grazing the sinewy muscle.

It was a slow torture.

“You seem distracted.” Eris murmured in your ear, readjusting himself again and sending another wave of pleasure through your core. You couldn’t help it, a quiet moan leaving your mouth as you felt yourself giving up.

He chuckled darkly, sliding the rest of the hand under your shirt fabric and resting it on the skin above your hip bone. “You’ve been working so hard my dear, I can’t have you unfocused.”

The rest of his fingers began tracing lazy, teasing circles against your flesh. You arched into his touch, tears from the lack of stimulation to your cunt threatening to form in your eyes if he didn’t touch you soon.

“Please.” You murmured quietly.

“Please what?” Eris asked, feigning cluelessness but letting his teeth scrape the shell of your ear. “If you need something from me, you need only ask. And I will be happy to oblige.”

The bastard was really going to make you admit it. He knew what he had been doing for the past hour, teasing you subtly to the point where you’d beg for more. Your earlier determination was gone, replaced by a pathetic neediness for his touch.

“Touch me, please.” You whined, not caring how weak you sounded.

Eris paused for a second. “No.”

Your eyes shot open in surprise. If this was some sick game to humiliate you, you were going to kill him. “What do you mean–”

“You know what you want to do right now,” He cut you off, his voice low. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my thighs for the past few days. This is your chance to take what you want, sweetheart. Only once you grind yourself into my thigh to show me how desperate you are for me, will I finally touch you.”

Humiliation burned through you. No matter how stubborn you were, it was no match for Eris’s. There was no way you’d be able to convince him to put his hands on you without first doing what he asked.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on his knee for support as your clit finally made contact with his thigh. You began rocking your hips, moaning at the relief it brought you.

“Come on, I know you can give me more than that.” Eris remarked from behind you.

You groaned and ground your hips harder into his thigh, pleasure intensifying. You swivelled your hips back and forth and in circular motions, trying to find a path to the release you had been craving.

“Fuck.” You moaned, glancing sideways at the mirror that was propped against the wall adjacent to his desk. The sight nearly made you gasp. Your face was flushed, blissed out as you grinded into Eris’s thigh, a small wet patch having formed on his light brown trousers. Eris was leaning back in his chair, his eyes hungrily drinking in the view from behind of you riding his thigh. His face was dark with want, and his knuckles were white as they gripped the side of the chair.

You continued your motions, grinding into your professor’s thigh in his locked office, coming so close to building that familiar coil in your stomach but never quite getting there.

“Eris…” You moaned.

“Yes, my dear?” Came his reply.

“I need you. Please, sir, I need you to touch me.”

One glance in the mirror and you knew you were victorious. Calling him ‘sir’ seemed to have softened his determination to make you grind into him until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Aw, can you not get yourself off on my thigh without help?” He mocked, stroking your hip again. “You need me that badly, don’t you? You know how unsatisfying it would be to cum without my touch.”

He spun the chair around, lifting your hips with one hand and peeling your pants and underwear off at the same time. The two of you were now facing the mirror, able to take in the sinfulness of the situation in full view. Eris adjusted you on his lap so that you were sitting atop his bulge, legs spread over each of his legs. Your needy cunt was on display, and you leaned back into his solid chest.

“Such a greedy little thing.” Eris said. One of his hands reached down and stroked your clit, while the other wrapped around your other hip and began to tease your entrance. For a second, you thought he was going to cruelly pull away, leaving you high and dry. But moments later he plunged a finger inside you, increasing the speed and pressure on your clit as well.

Your entire body twitched with the sudden wave of pleasure, ten times more intense than anything you had given yourself. Your moan this time was loud, echoing throughout the vast space of the office. His hands worked you in all the right places, confidently finding the perfect pleasure spots as if he had been given a map to your body and spent years studying it.

“Is that better?” Eris cooed, running his lips up and down your neck. “Is this what you’ve been fantasising about, being completely at my mercy as I make you feel good?”

“Gods, yes.” You cried out, arching into him.

“There are no gods here to help you, my dear,” He chuckled darkly. “Only me.”

Eris bit down on the juncture between your shoulder and neck, causing you to gasp. But you welcomed the sting of it, sighing as his silver tongue caressed the indents in your skin. Your legs began to tense up, feeling the orgasm you had been so desperately craving building up. The wet squelching sounds of Eris’s fingers on your cunt sang in harmony with your moans, as you watched the scene in the mirror through half-closed eyes.

“That’s it, love.” Eris murmured, sucking your neck just below the curve of your jaw. “Cum all over my hands.”

Your body obeyed, erupting into a burst of flaming pleasure as your orgasm hit you hard. Eris’s fingers continued to work you through your high, intensifying it tenfold. You were a whimpering, twitching mess in your professor’s lap. Finally, he removed his hands from between your legs, giving you a merciful break. You slouched into him, panting.

Your professor had just given you the most intense orgasm of your life.

After a few minutes letting your body recover, Eris picked you up with ease, bridal style in his arms. He settled you both down on the couch, placing his hand on your inner thigh and slowly sliding it back towards your core. You whimpered as his fingers grazed your sensitive slit, causing him to chuckle.

“Oh you poor, sweet thing,” Eris mocked. “You didn’t think that would be it, did you? I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Your mind reeled as he adjusted himself, laying back flat on the couch and pulling you on top of him. Luckily, you caught yourself with one arm on his chest so you didn’t land flat on his body. Eris’s hand reached behind your neck, grabbing you firmly and pulling your lips into his. You groaned, shifting on top of him so you were straddling his waist to get more comfortable. Eris’s grip was tight, putting you at the mercy of his kiss as his lips consumed your own. You melted into his mouth like butter, sighing as his tongue danced with your own.

His other hand reached down and squeezed your backside, pushing your hips into his crotch and causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths. The noise that emitted from Eris’s lips was the most delightful thing you had ever heard, you decided. It filled you with determination to see what other sounds your professor could make. So you ground your hips into his bulge again, causing him to groan.

“Careful,” He growled, nipping at your lip in warning. “You’re playing with fire here, my dear. Did I say you could grind on my cock like a desperate whore?”

You paused, heat rushing to your core at his filthy words. You’d always loved the sound of Eris’s voice, and hearing him say such sinful things to you brought a fresh wave of arousal.

A hard smack landed on your ass, making you yelp in surprise.

“I asked you a question.” Eris said sternly. “Did I give you permission to grind on my cock, yes or no?”

“No.” You answered sheepishly.

“No is right. Sit up. You’re going to make it up to me.”

You frowned in confusion, but did as you were told, propping yourself up and sitting back down on Eris’s hips, trying to ignore the way his cock dug into your backside. You took a second to admire Eris’s form laying on the luxurious couch beneath you. His red hair was fanned around his face like the morning rays of sunshine, a beautiful contrast with the dark green of the sofa. His expression was relaxed, but calculating as always – angular cheekbones made more prominent in the light of the candles, his amber eyes glowing with desire. It was a sight you wanted to commit to memory forever.

“Remove your shirt, and come ride my face.” Eris said plainly. You baulked, having expected him to tell you to get on your knees and take his cock down your throat. You were supposed to make up for disobeying him by… letting him eat you out? Most males you had been with had been selfish, only going down on you if you sucked them off first. But Eris was different.

“I would suggest you listen and do as I say, unless you want to be bent over my knee and spanked until you cannot walk, and are ordered not to cum for a week.” Eris’s voice was less patient this time, noting your hesitation.

Something dark in his eyes told you he meant it, so you obeyed, unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it off your shoulders, followed by your bra. You were now completely naked on top of Eris, who remained fully clothed. Under any other circumstances, you’d have insisted he at least partially undress first. But you knew his patience was wearing thin, and as much as you secretly wouldn’t mind being spanked, the thought of not coming for a week was something you couldn’t do.

You crawled your way up his body, seating a knee on either side of his head. You lifted your hips, core inches from his face. The male was practically salivating beneath you as you gingerly lowered your cunt to skim his lips.

“I thought I told you to sit.” Eris said.

You gawked. “But I don’t want to suffocate–”

Your sentence was interrupted by a frustrated growl from your professor. He gripped your hips firmly and pulled you down hard, seating you fully on his mouth. You cried out as his tongue expertly stroked your folds, flicking your clit as he ate you out with precision that made you weak. Instinctively, one hand came down to grip Eris’s red locks, causing him to moan into your cunt. His hair was soft in your fingers, and you relished in the feeling of it.

You felt Eris’s hands guide your hips back and forth, encouraging you to rock them against his face. Moans left your lips as you obliged, grinding into his face like you had on his thigh. Evidently, this pleased Eris and he groaned, which sent delicious vibrations through your core.

You let your head fall back, shamelessly riding Eris’s mouth as you pulled on his hair. If your grip caused him any pain, he gave no indication of it. Whenever you tried to lift your hips to let him breathe, his grip only tightened and firmly held you in place. It wasn’t long before you climaxed again, letting out a choked cry as your juices covered his face. After catching your breath, letting Eris wipe his face with his fingers before sicking the digits clean, you climbed off of him, collapsing into a sitting position on the couch as Eris sat up next to you. His skilled fingers began undoing the buttons on his shirt, and you hungrily drank in the sight of his bare chest as he pulled the expensive material off.

“You did so well, my dear.” Eris purred. “I think you can cum one more time for me. Ride my cock this time, love, make a pretty mess all over it just like you did with my face. And my fingers… and thigh.”

Your mouth went slack. After two orgasms, you weren’t sure if you could handle a third. But the desire to please him outweighed any reservations you had about your sensitive body, so you reached down and unlaced his breeches, making eye contact as you did so. Eris smirked, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion as you pulled out his long cock and stroked it once. The tip was red and needy, leaking with precum and making your mouth water. You swung your leg over his hips, straddling them. One of your hands reached towards Eris’s cock, grabbing it and lining it up with your entrance. You took a breath, and began to sink down.

You stopped after getting just the tip in, trying to catch your breath. The stretch stung, and you weren’t sure how you were going to fit the rest of it in, especially being so oversensitive still. Eris simply watched with his hands behind his head casually, a smug look on his face. He did not help you, seemingly content to watch you struggle to take his length.

You forced your body to relax, sliding to about halfway down before stopping, moaning dizzily. All of your senses were completely overwhelmed, and you felt so full with only half his cock inside you.

“Aw, are you finding it difficult to take me, love?” Eris mocked. “Maybe you can’t handle it–”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence, for his teasing tone filled you with sheer determination and you slammed yourself down onto him. Eris was cut off in a strangled moan, eyes widening as you impaled your cunt on his cock. The force of it knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t let it stop you. You swirled your hips, pulling yourself up his length before falling down on him again, bracing your hands on his shoulders for support. Gods, he was so deep inside of you, touching places that made your head spin.

“Fucking hell.” Eris groaned, his voice rough as you slid up and down on his cock at a relentless pace. You twisted and swivelled your hips as you did so, your cunt squeezing his cock at new angles that made your professor gasp. You threw your head back, and Eris took the opportunity to lean forward and wrap his arms around your back, pulling your chest closer to him and taking your breast in his mouth.

The new sensation made you cry out, but you refused to let your pace falter. Eris’s teeth scraped your nipple, sucking harshly before moving to your other breast. His hips began slamming up into you to meet your own, making the coil in your belly tighten.

“Eris…” You whined, tangling your hands in his hair again.

“That’s it, love, say my name,” Eris reached one hand down to roll your clit with his thumb, while the other gripped your throat and squeezed. “Let everyone know who’s fucking you dumb right now. Let them hear you scream for me as your tight little cunt takes my cock.”

You rode him with a vigour you didn’t know you possessed, shamelessly moaning his name over and over again. “Eris… Eris…. Eris!” It was overwhelming, your professor’s cock slamming in and out of you, his hand rolling your clit while the other held you by the throat. You kept your grip on his hair, yanking as you climaxed one last time, the action of your fingers pulling his red locks making Eris cry out too. His hips stuttered as his cum shot through you, your cunt clenching around him as you rode out your own orgasm. It was the most intense out of all the ones you had so far, the warmth of Eris spilling inside you making you dizzy with pleasure.

You leaned forward, dragging your lips up Eris’s throat as he moaned with you clenching around him. He cursed, the slip in his control filling you with pride. His skin tasted like rich autumn spices. You pulled his cock out from inside you and collapsed into his chest, panting. You didn’t realise how exhausted your body was until now. Every cell in you was completely spent, leaving you unable to move. You fought the sleepiness, but the warmth from Eris’s chest was too comforting and darkness overcame you.

************************

A few hours later, you opened your eyes. For a moment, you expected to be in your own bed, the whole thing having been a dream. But you took in your surroundings, realising you were still in Eris’s office. The professor was sitting at his desk, quietly grading. You scrambled upright, the blanket that had been draped across you falling onto your lap.

“I’m so sorry.” You stammered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Eris looked up at you, smirking. “You have nothing to apologise for. I take pride in your passing out, actually. Means I did my job well, not that there was any doubt based on the noises you made.”

You blushed furiously, but then looked down at your body. You expected to be sweaty and gross from the sex, utterly naked and exposed. But you felt clean, as if you had been wiped down with a wet cloth and then dried. Your old clothes were neatly folded on the ground next to you, and you were dressed in a pair of soft, forest green sweatpants and a white crew neck sweater. They definitely were not Eris’s size. “You keep women’s clothes in your office?” You asked, confused.

“I keep a spare set of attire for all the female students I fuck in here.” Eris’s voice was dry, and you whipped around to stare at him with wide eyes. “That was a joke, my dear. I had them picked out last week. You know, in case Ianthe decided she wanted to spill more coffee on you in the future.”

You snorted, heart fluttering at the surprising thoughtfulness of his actions. While you had hoped he wouldn’t just toss your clothes at you and send you on your way without a word, given the professor’s rigidness it hadn’t been entirely out of the question. “You’re not funny.”

“On the contrary, I am terribly funny.”

“You got these clothes last week, was it really because of Ianthe or was your plan to fuck me all along? Is that why you offered to help me in the first place?”

Eris rolled his amber eyes, giving you a stern look. “No. My offer to help you was, and is, genuine, and with your best academic interests in mind. I may be a prick, but I am not cruel. Fucking you was a delightful bonus, not an expectation.”

His words reassured you. Despite his strict reputation, it seemed Dr. Vanserra had a heart after all. You checked the clock, realising it was almost 9:30pm. “Shit, I have to get home now. My roommate is going to think I fell off the face of the earth.”

You hastily grabbed your things, giving Eris a quick kiss on the mouth before hurrying to the doorway. You had no idea what this meant for the two of you, if it was a one time thing to satisfy both your needs, or something more. Regardless, you didn’t want to think too much about it, content to bask in the aftermath of the best sex you’ve ever had.

“Same time tomorrow.” Eris piped up right before you opened your door. “Don’t be late.”

“Yes sir.” You smirked at the twitch of his face at your words.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

A sadistic grin crossed Eris’s face. “When you get home, I’m positive you will be reminiscing about the mind blowing orgasms you just had. But you are not to touch yourself until I see you tomorrow night, am I clear? There will be… repercussions, if you disobey me.”

You baulked, embarrassed that he had seen right through you, but nodded anyway. As the door closed behind you, you wondered if you were going to last the next 20 hours without breaking his rule.

#amara's professor series #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra smut #eris acotar #autumn court #acotar #acotar smut #acotar au

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florenceafternoon · 5 months

Text

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Some more AUs I've been loving. I'm trying to alternate between AU and canon verse rec lists so bear with me. Remember that if you like a fic you should definitely let the author know as such.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

theogony by @clare-with-no-i

The trip that Lily Evans expects to go on is the annual pre-dissertation jaunt to Athens with the rest of her Classical Civilizations PhD program. The trip she does not expect to go on is to 479 BCE, right on the cusp of one of the most important battles in the Greco-Persian war. Now, she has to navigate antiquity as she tries to find her way back to the 21st Century, God—or gods—help her.

James wants to win this war. No, James needs to win this war. He is a man of honor and duty, and even if it means dying a gruesome, bloody death, he will go down in history as one of Athens's great warriors. He will suffer no distractions; not even beautiful ones who speak strangely and refuse to listen to his orders.

-- OR: The Outlander-Meets-Ancient-Greece Jily AU that no one asked for Maya dreams of.

I can't believe it took me this long to read this fic but OH MY GOD!! Clare's writing is phenomenal, I've known this for a while now, but THE DEDICATION TO HISTORICAL ACCURACY, I'm so impressed. If only I could put even half that amount of effort into my major essays for school. EVERYONE GO READ THIS NOW

Sweathearts' Special by @tinyluminaryzombie

What happens when your coffee shop nemesis, asks you to pretend to be a couple?

Or "I’ve been staring at the stupid cupcakes for the past hour, and they look way too good. Anyways, would you be willing to join forces and pretend to be together for the free cupcake and coffee?”

Welcome to Pettyville by @women-inthe-sequel

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

A love square but it's just the same two idiots

Tall Dark and Glasses by @jamesunderwater

Tall Dark and Glasses (or TDG as he is more affectionately known) is the mysterious, painfully good-looking stranger who has been frequenting Lily's favourite coffee shop for months now. But despite having an embarrassing acronym for him, Lily, a burned-out STEM major, is too comfortable being a wallflower to go up to him herself. Thank god for playing cards, I guess.

coffee shops and copious amounts of sugar by @mystinkysocks

James decides to finally start revising, the coffee shop he attends introduces him to someone new!

As someone who spends an ungodly amount of time studying in public (at cafés and libraries), all I dream of is to one day live out my very own coffee shop AU

Unlicenced by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans begrudgingly agrees to get in the car with classmate and sometime-foe James Potter and his not-quite-earned P-plates after a particularly rubbish day.

Drop-Off also by @/ ohmygodshesinsane

James Potter takes Lily Evans home, and wants to make something clear.

Disclaimer that they’re Australian in this AU. You guys don't understand how much Lily Evans means to me. I want to give her a hug.

pretty, pretty boy by rosiemary0 (on ao3)

Pretty face, with golden brown eyes and strong cheekbones (one of which is adorned with a smudge of charcoal). Pretty hands—very, very pretty hands, Lily’s thoughts interject—which hold a jar each, one with water and the other paintbrushes.

Or the one where James is an artist and Lily hates socialising.

I'll Manage by @kaymardsa

James and Lily fall in love during the war.

In which Lily runs a refugee camp and James is an ex-sniper

I can't remember if I've recommended this fic already but again I recently re-read it and wanted to share

'Tis the Fucking Season by @thequibblah

Six-year absences. Yearly photograph burnings (figuratively). Low-cut tops. Two nosebleeds. Little red notebooks. The Past, with a capital P. The desire to pour your heart out to strangers (maybe pathologically). The desire to do unspeakably bad things to one James Potter. These are the ingredients that make up Lily Evans's holiday season.

Shelby the cabbie is in for a fucking ride.

I have been searching for this fic for two months and nearly gave up. An absolute classic that everyone should read!!

Two's a Crowd also by @/ thequibblah

Regency AU in which "the only thing Lily Evans can share with the Earl of Devon is a healthy dose of mutual dislike."

In Search of Something More by @kay-elle-cee

In the sunlit garden of her sister’s home, Lord Potter had promised Lily a life of her own design, with minimal expectations—her presence at community events, companionship, and an heir. As the two stumble into the routine of marriage and work to make a life together at Stinchcombe Hall, unsolicited feelings provoke each to start wondering if this is merely a marriage…or if it could be something more.

No, I will not shut up about this fic. Anything that Kelsey writes is bound to be amazing but this one holds a special place in my heart. Note that this is an ongoing fic though. I tend to recommend completed works but this one is too good not to include.

Pinkest Bluestocking of the Ton by @wearingaberetinparis

Dearest Reader, the ton are abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it is my honour to impart to you the news that the Duke of Peverell has returned to London at last! A year after setting off on his tour of Europe, Lady Peverell's son has returned and rumour has it that his mother is preparing for the most joyous of occasions: a late summer wedding that sees her son wed the next Duchess of Peverell. It is my sincere hope that you have stored a bottle of wine for this most delightful of upcoming events for if ever there were a more determined mama, this writer is Icarus and this society paper has been scorched for flying too close to the sun.

A Jily Regency Romance inspired by Shondaland's "Bridgerton".

Again this is an ongoing fic, but it's too good not to include in this rec list! I haven’t caught up with all the chapters yet but I love the story so far!

A Heart of Coal also by @/ wearingaberetinparis

They say fortune favours the bold, yet Lily Evans was given her death sentence at seventeen. As soon as midnight strikes on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, her heart will turn to coal. Gryffindor knight James Potter, however, is the last to accept such a fate. For while Lily Evans’ curse foretells her death, his foreshadows a life without his unrequited true love at his side.

Fairytale AU in which the love is requited they're just idiots

Three Lemons and a Dragon by @thelighthousestale

Once upon a time, there lived a Prince named James who had to save his father's Kingdom by getting married. One day an older woman gifts him three lemons that will lead him to his true love.

Dillweed in a Fancy Metal Can by @eastwindmlk

When Lily gets dragged to a Renaissance Faire, she reluctantly agreed to go to the jousting event where she is pulled into the show against her will, or is it?

Lily represents me

Queen Foxtail also by @/ eastwindmlk

Once Upon A Time...

There was an arrogant prince who turned down every suitable match and drove his parents to do something drastic. Marry him off to the next merchant that steps through their gates.

across the universe by rcdwings (on ao3)

“So, you’re saying that in these other worlds, James Potter and Lily Evans exist, too?”

She hadn’t expected to hear that, hadn’t even thought about it that way. She was too busy thinking about if in those other worlds, she and her friends could be seventeen and free instead of the war torn teenagers they were. Now that he’d put it that way, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander.

“I would assume so,” she swallowed. “Not sure what we would be like, though.”

A beat, then a soft hum. “Anything,” he smiled at her, “There are countless worlds, right? We could be anything.”

only love can hurt like this by @fireblts

Lily doesn’t quite know everything, but it feels pretty close.

The main thing she still doesn’t get is soulmates. Love doesn’t seem like something that should be painful. Or rather, love seems like it’s painful enough on its own without any help.

Soulmate AU - whenever your soulmate is hurt or in pain, you can feel it too.

Soulmate AUs are my comfort genre of fics. I haven't been feeling to well lately and rediscovering this fic was a delight

The Librarian of Hogsmeade Village by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily's work as a librarian in the small village of Hogsmeade has kept her occupied for the past six years, forever keeping the wheels of the town on the track. As the holidays approach, she prepares to settle in with a nice mug of tea and a well-thumbed old book. When a new resident and his son arrive at her weekly story-reading, with cheeky smiles and big hearts, those plans are tossed out the window in favour of chasing love, for once - not escaping it.

Lily living the cozy life of my dreams. I think it's well known by now that I love reading about single parents and well James with his baby boy always puts a smile on my face.

Spitting Image by @charmsandtealeaves

James Potter always knew he wanted to build a family, he just hadn’t found the right person to build it with - yet. Freezing his sperm at Gringotts Sperm Bank was a no-brainer really. He’d have children when he found the right person, and now he had an insurance policy. Then Lily Evans walked into his place of work with her son - the spitting image of him.

linking this art that the talented @constancezin drew inspired by this fic

Every time I see that Ray has updated, reading the new chapter becomes the highlight of my day

The Stag Prince Across The Sea also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

The realm of Hogwarts had lived for decades in a carefully negotiated harmony between the leaders of the four clans. However, when the time came for son to marry daughter, the Slytherin King refused to offer his daughter's hand to any of the other grand houses’ suitors. As the Slytherin King departed the shore, bound for the ship that would allow him to escape across the Green Sea, he cast a curse on the great families.

“Let ye be marked. Marred by tooth, hoof, and claw. May your sons never be fit for any bride!”

Slytherin invoked an ancient magic, which transformed each family's eldest son into creatures under the light of the full moon. The Kings searched far and wide for a cure to no avail while trying to keep secret the wrong that had been done to them. Years passed and with them grew a sense of unrest, a kingdom on the precipice of collapse...

what love is, I think by @potterandevans-blog-blog

It's James Potter's birthday, his nineteenth to be exact. Some people, if they're lucky, find a tattoo on their back on their nineteenth birthday, a tattoo that can help them discover their soulmate. And if the antlers on his back are anything to go by, James might just have a soulmate of his own out there, somewhere.

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

#if you're like me and check the jily fic tag nearly every morning you've probably read most of these already #but I just wanted to share my recent favourites #lily evans #james potter #jily #jple #james x lily #lily x james #jily fic rec list

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martybaker · 1 year

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Whiskey for the good times

It’s a warm June evening and Dream is sitting at the end of the bar at The New Inn, watching Hob at work.

Priya the bartender called in sick and so Hob is manning the bar himself tonight. The inn is full of patrons and Hob is kept busy, clever fingers handling various bottles of liquor. He chats amicably with regulars and newcomers alike, ever with a kind smile on his face, even though there is a sheen of sweat at his temples, testament to his hard work.

And despite the crowd, whenever there’s a lull in the influx of warm bodies demanding his attention, he finds a moment to wind back to Dream, to give him a refill, a new anecdote, an observation about a patron, or just a smile before he’s called back to duty.

Dream enjoys their conversations, but he enjoys simply watching Hob at work as well, and he has had plenty of opportunities to do so over the last year. Since his escape from Fawney Rig and the subsequent demands of his office, his visits to the Waking world had became much more frequent. But not only because of his duties, but also thanks to the newly rediscovered pleasure of Hob’s company.

They agreed to meet once a month, so Hob could more thoroughly catch Dream up on all the things he has missed during the years of his…detainment, and slowly conversations over a drink turned into invites to, quote, “hang out” with Hob outside of the New Inn as well. Some things are better shown than told, he said, and Dream smiled and complied rather too easily. Their monthly meetings became weekly, and though Dream was notoriously prone to getting lost in his work, he suddenly found himself in the habit of time keeping and counting down days until their next meeting.

Today, however, is special. The calendar on the wall reads June 7th in bold black letters. A day as any other, but also their day.

Dream watches Hob, circling the rim of his glass with his finger.

Currently Hob is held at the other end of the bar by a pair of young giggling women he seems to be familiar with, presumably his students. They keep glancing in Dream’s direction, and Hob’s face is growing redder by the minute. He keeps shaking his head, disputing whatever notion they’re pushing, but the girls seem relentless.

Eventually, when he makes his way back to Dream, Dream cannot help letting his curiosity take over.

“Your students?”

Hob nods, a faint flush still visible on his cheeks.

“What were they inquiring about?”

Hob huffs, shaking his head. “They were making fun of their old history professor, s’wat they been doing.”

Dream rises his eyebrows at him.

Hob sighs, fidgeting under the gaze, but eventually breaks.

“They were asking if you were a good kisser,” he admits, darting away with his gaze as soon as he says it, tugging nervously at his ear.

Dream’s eyebrows shoot up even higher. “Were they? What did you tell them?”

Hob blinks at him. “The truth? That I wouldn’t know?”

“Hmm,” Dream hums, twirling the amber liquid in his glass. He slowly puts it down, then reaches over the bartop and pulls Hob towards him, leaning in to join their lips. Hob makes a noise of surpise against him but then falls into the kiss, tasting the whiskey from Dream’s lips.

When Dream pulls back, Hob sways on his feet, looking lost with his mouth hanging open and pupils dilated. His hands clench, frozen in midair as if he wanted to hold onto Dream but wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

There’s a whistle and laughter from the other side of the bar.

Dream picks up his glass again and smiles at Hob beatifically. “There. So you could give them an honest review.”

Hob blinks at him and makes a noise like a squeezed rubber duck.

Dream cannot help the grin tugging on his lips as he nods in the direction of the women, encouraging Hob to return back to them to relay his impressions.

Hob unfreezes slowly, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair and muttering “bloody hell” under his breath before he hesitently makes his way back to the other side of the bar. The students immediately latch onto him, rejuvinated by the display as well as the liquir running through their veins.

When Hob comes back to uncork new bottles for the customers he is unusually quiet and the red on his cheeks seems to have made a permanent residence there.

As he grabs for a bottle of tequilla it slips from his fingers and shatters on the floor, minutely interrupting the rumor of conversations before they’re picked up again.

“Bollocks!” He curses.

Dream hears himself laugh. Not a full on raucous laugh, just a chuckle, but Hob looks at him with wide eyes, as if he was seeing the eight wonder of the world.

Hob laughs too, breaking the moment, and returns his attention to the shattered bottle.

“Look what you’ve done to me!” he says, grabbing for a broom and glancing at Dream with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Menace.”

Dream hides his smile in his glass. He feels a sparkling feeling in his chest, which doesn’t seem right because alcohol shoud have no effect on him unless he lets it. Perhaps his control is slipping, or perhaps it’s just the pleasent buzz of the evening and good company.

Perhaps he doesn’t mind all that much, letting his control slip tonight.

Having cleaned the mess, Hob comes back to him, as he always does, and gives him a crooked smile. “You’ve just about made their day tonight. I won’t hear the end of it at the uni, thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Dream drawls, leaning his head on his hand. He gives Hob a once-over, gesturing at his shirt that’s been soaked by the alcohol. “You might want to take that off.”

Hob looks at his shirt, then back at Dream, huffing in disbelief. “Was that the plan all along??”

“An unforseen benefit.”

“Uhuh,” Hob says, giving Dream a dubious look. “Heavens, you are in a mood tonight. Should have given me a warning beforehand, I don’t know if I can survive a whole evening of this,” he says, gesturing at the whole of Dream.

“You can survive anything,” Dream reminds him.

“Physically, maybe, but my composure? My dignity? My sanity? I am really not all that sure, love.”

Dream smiles, keeps smiling, really, as he doesn’t seem to be able to do otherwise tonight. He downs the last sip of whiskey along with the sweet tingle of Hob’s endearment.

“Want a refill?” Hob nods at his empty glass. “Or would you like to try something new? Something more daring?” he says, rising his eyebrows in a challenge. “Since that seems to be the vibe tonight.”

Dream hums. “Perhaps i would like to try something old.”

If Dream knew Hob’s reactions to a little bit of flirting would be so entertaining, he would have endeavoured to do so sooner. Hob grows even redder in the face if that’s even possible, huffing and blinking rapidly, seemingly unable to decide what to do with his hands which he twists together, then crosses across his chest, then lets fall against his sides again, smoothing down the seams of his trousers.

He shakes his head and rubs his forehead.

“You’re something else, Dream,” he says with a deep sigh.

“Yes, that is a correct assesment.”

Hob rolls his eyes.

“Hey, Mickey!” He yells at a regular at a nearby table, “would you like to make a quick buck? Can you come over to man the bar for a minute? I need to change.”

“Sure thing, mate!”

Hob takes of his apron, muscles flexing underneath the shirt made half translucent, and Dream wants.

“Do you need assistance,” he asks nonsensically, but Hob understands it for the proposal that it is.

Hob’s eyes grow wide. He laughs, shaking his head. “Christ, if I were really working here I would get fired for this,” he says, but he beckons at Dream who slips from his chair and joins Hob at the other side of the bar. Hob puts his hand on his back and nudges him towards the backroom.

“Lucky you are the owner, then,” Dream points out.

“Yeah, lucky,” Hob says, hand slipping around Dream’s waist from behind, and kisses Dream’s neck as he closes the door behind them.

——————

Happy 7th of June dreamling nation!

Here’s something for ‘Ep6 continuation’ prompt of Dreamling Week :)

#dreamling #dreamlingweek2023 #dreamlingweek #dreamling week #dreamling week 2023 #my writing #the sandman #sandman #dream x hob #hob x dream #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream the endless #morpheus #sandman dreamling #not beta-ed we die like jessamy

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