Hiiii so, whaaat do you think about (modern!hotd) Rhaenyra x (fem)reader, where Rhaenyra is a teacher (perhaps literature/history) at a prestigious university, and she harbors feelings for her best student? And the student herself feels it too, but knowing that her teacher is in her thirties, has children, and is married to the university's volleyball coach, despite rumors circulating among the professors, some students had the pleasure of hearing that the marriage between Daemon and Rhaenyra was not monogamous and that they might possibly divorce. idk It's just that this suggestion crossed my mind recently when I saw a movie! (kind of like a lolita but of course it's not something so absurd. More like... Rhaenyra spoiling her and being a rich and romantic milf and the reader provoke her
(Rhaenyra with short hair? I live for that!)
Modern!Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Entering one of the most prestigious universities always comes with an abundance of stress, having to keep up with the workload and balance your life on top of that. You find a way to add even more onto that, through your older, married-with-kids professor, Rhaenyra.
Tags: Modern!Professor!Rhaenyra, Female!Reader, MILF!Rhaenyra, Baela is readers friend but ISNT related to Daemon or Rhaenyra in any way to remove the incest.. (she's still dating jace), Jace is mentioned but never actually seen, Rhae is a history prof
Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is in Uni), cunnilingus, Daemon as his own warning, mention of cheating because of Daemon.., dom!Rhaenyra, desk sex, reader is slightly more feminine (is described to wear a skirt), i use she/her pronouns for the CHARACTER rhaenyra (but do keep in mind that the actor uses they/them!), praise
Banner Credits @uzmacchiato
The first day you’d ever stepped foot into that lecture hall, you’d felt as though you might fall at any second. It wasn’t that you were worried about your capabilities in the subject, you’d always been more than capable of it, but keeping your spot in one of (if not the most) prestigious universities was something you’d laid awake and thought about one too many nights. It would be a gross understatement to say you weren’t proud of how far you’d come, it would be even worse to say nobody believed in you, you almost felt as though your ears were still ringing from the celebrations of your parents when you’d shared the news. Even so, your legs wobbled like a baby animal, keeping yourself as tall as possible as you’d taken your chosen seat in the front middle, a perfect view of the board and close enough to hear perfectly. Better yet, it ended up being the perfect view for the professor of the subject. The first time Professor Targaryen had walked into that lecture hall, your breath nearly stopped. She was tall, she clearly knew she belonged, her attitude dominating the hall. She commanded the room without even speaking, even the louder students still chittering in the back had fallen silent as she began to teach and explain every assignment expected of you.
You’d been an amazing student, for the most part. You’d completed your assignments on time, answered questions when asked and been extremely cordial to other students when in groups. The only time your performance ever felt lackluster was when you got lost in your head, eyes dazed, plagued with day dreams about your professor. You knew it was wrong, she was older, and about a week into your time at the university, you’d found out there was a Mr. Targaryen. A volleyball coach, it almost made you laugh at the difference between them, it definitely made you laugh when you thought about the fact he’d managed to marry her.
As time went on, the workload became more and more. You were stressed out of your mind, between working part time to survive, keeping up your social life and finishing the class work, you felt like you were actively going insane. And worse (or better) yet, you had a meeting with your professor to discuss how your presentation was going. That’s exactly how you’d ended up in this situation, taking a few calming breaths as you lifted your hand to knock gently, the wood hard against your knuckles. The reply from within felt almost distant as you opened the door and stepped inside, trying to stay calm as you waited for her to speak.
“I’ve read over your work.” She starts, her voice never wavering. “I have practically no notes, your work is by far one of the best in the class, it might as well be the best out of every student I’ve ever had.”
You almost sigh out loud, stopping yourself as she turns to look at you, her purple eyes glimmering under the warm lighting of her office.
“Do you believe there is anything you could change?” She asks, and you snap back into the conversation.
“I don’t.. think so. I might change the phrasing but..” You trail off, unable to focus on your work much longer. Your eyes wander to her desk, the dark wood reflects the lamp light, the warm glow almost makes it feel cosy, slightly messy but arranged. You manage to get a glimpse at the photo sitting on her desk, and you almost choke on the air, her with two boys, seemingly her sons.
She nods at your words, looking you up and down before flicking through your paper once more. You watch, eyes on her as she leans against the desk. You can’t help yourself, the way her shirt fits her, slightly unbuttoned at the top makes heat rush into your cheeks, the ends of her short hair just barely brushing her cheek bones. By the end of the discussion, you’re kicking yourself at the fact you’d spent half an hour eye-fucking your very married professor and heading back to your dorm feeling sorry for yourself.
It was somewhat warm now it’d turned spring, and you’d taken the opportunity of it being warm to meet with Baela, eager to catch up on all the missed gossip and she’d taken great pleasure in telling you about every single relationship drama she’d managed to overhear. The bench was hard underneath you as you settled down and the wind gave you a slight chill as you finally spoke up.
“Do you know anything about the teachers?” You ask, fingers fiddling with your clothes before looking up at her.
“Depends which ones you’re asking about.” She replies, eyebrow arching just barely as she waits.
“Professor Targaryen, and her husband.” You reply, and watch as her face lights up.
“She’s related to my boyfriend, Jace.”
Your heart stutters slightly at that, you’d remembered seeing a boy around your age in the picture on her desk, but he was unfamiliar to you.
“He doesn’t go here?” You ask, and Baela shakes her head.
“Different university.” She sighs, showing you a picture on her phone. “But yeah, that’s his mum, and his dad.”
You nod, and it goes quiet for a minute.
“From what I’ve heard through him? He thinks they’re close to divorcing. He says they barely speak when they’re around each other now.”
You perk up slightly at that information, and Baela continues.
“I’ve heard from other students that Daemon has notorious a past of cheating.”
That makes you want to scoff in her face, he’d gotten the pleasure to marry her and for some reason he’d cheated?
You’d continued to gossip about it the entire walk back to your dorms, before you had to part ways. Your blankets almost felt suffocating as you laid down in your bed, thinking about what you’d learnt, a myriad of feelings overcoming you. You’d felt bad for her obviously, her husband seemed like a dick, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel somewhat happy, like you’d even have a chance now.
The next few classes you’d tried to focus, more than usual you’d admit, but almost every time you’d looked up at your professor, she was already locked onto you. The first few times, you’d tried to brush it off, maybe it was just a coincidence. By the second class, you’d put that thought aside, more focused on the fact that she was asking you more questions, giving you more praise when you’d answer correctly. You weren’t complaining though, the praise made your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting as you tried to hide your smile.
It was after the third class that you’d realised you’d had another progress meeting with her. You felt deja vu walking up to her office door, stomach in knots as you’d knocked and entered. You’d tried to keep it cool as she read through your work again, before looking up at you.
“I really have no words for you, still. Your work really is amazing.”
You smile slightly at that, chest feeling warm at her praise. You feel frozen, standing beside her desk, even as she moves around, leaning against it beside you. The room feels too small, too intimate as you wait for her to speak again.
“Have you been distracted in my class?” She asks, and you snap out of it at that.
“What? No, professor.” You reply, almost distraught.
She smiles at that, it almost feels predatory, like you’d a caught animal under her stare.
“I just like to check on my favourite student, and call me Rhaenyra” She replies casually, but you almost crumble at that.
“Favourite?” You ask, fingers fiddling with your bag strap, even as your eyes stay on her, eyes briefly moving to her smile.
She nods, and you feel as though you can’t breathe. It worsens as she shifts closer, voice lower, the room feels suffocating.
“Favourite.” She confirms, fingers coming up to straighten your bag strap, fingers brushing yours just barely.
You feel trapped, in a good way, the space between you two small. Despite this, your eyes stay on her face, taking in the curve of her nose and the slope of her nose, before her eyes meet yours again.
“You stare at me more than you listen, I think.” She says, voice quieter. You swallow, eyes stuck on hers.
“Maybe you’re nice to look at.” You reply, trying to keep it cool.
She smiles at your weak attempt to flirt, moving even closer, and you can’t contain the beating of your heart as she presses herself closer to you, your chests almost touching. You feel breathless as she leans in slightly before committing, pressing her lips to yours, your brain kicking into overdrive to make you kiss back. You let out a soft noise as her hands find your hips, pulling you even closer, and you will yourself to drop your bag so your hands can move up into her short hair, keeping her close. You don’t pull back, you let her lead, even when her kisses start moving away from your lips and she pushes you closer to her desk. She trails them away, pressing one kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jawline, then further, further down until she’s sucking and nipping at your neck. It all feels too much and not enough, the dim lighting of the office setting the mood almost too intimately, and you notice this time her desk seems emptier. She guides your hips back against it gently, and you take the hint to push yourself up on it allowing her to stand in between your legs. You finally gather your thoughts enough to bring your head down and push your lips against hers, revelling in the soft sigh she lets out at that. You feel addicted, senses and judgement clouded as you keep her as close as possible, although she seemingly has other ideas as she lowers herself down. You watch her, eyes locked on her until she’s fully kneeling. You lean back onto your hands as her own hands rest on your knees, rubbing up and down, briefly moving higher up your thigh. You can’t hold in the shaky exhale you release as she finally brings her head to kiss up your leg, and you shake slightly just from the sensation of her lips moving from your knee to your thigh, further and further up until her hands are bunching your skirt up to your hips and she’s fiddling with the laced edges of your underwear. She doesn’t speak, cheek resting against your inner thigh, but her eyes move up to yours and you feel too overwhelmed to even make a noise, simply nodding to give her confirmation. She gives your thigh another gentle kiss in gratitude, before she’s pulling your underwear down off your legs, and you’re taking more and more shaky breaths. She moves back up, hands wrapped around your thighs now, legs resting against her back as you wait. The first press of her tongue against you has you tearing up, a hand coming up to gently brush through her hair, breaths becoming shakier and shakier as her thumb rubs your thigh in soothing motions. Every lick against you has you shaking, and you can’t help but cry out she sucks at your clit gently, thighs clenching against her head. It’s slow, and not what you’d expected at all, especially considering how intense she was during classes the majority of the time, but you can’t complain, not when your orgasm builds slowly and intensely with every slow lick of her tongue. One of her hands moves from its soothing motion against your thigh toward your clit, rubbing gentle circles that make you shudder as you continue to run your hand through her hair, occasionally gripping when it became too much. Despite trying to keep quiet, in an attempt to not alert other staff or students, your sounds become louder, moans of her name escaping your lips, as you get closer, and you bring a hand up to muffle them as you release onto her tongue. Her movements become slower and slower as she helps you come down, before she’s kissing back up your body to your lips, her hand finding yours over your mouth and bringing it away. She plants a few gentle kisses to your face, whispering how good you were.
You leave that ‘discussion’ dazed, wandering back to your dorm feeling like you were floating.
You close the door behind you, back against it as you sink down to the floor, a gut wrenching feeling hitting you as you realise that despite every moral you had, you’d still somehow fucked your very married older teacher. Sleep didn’t come easy that night, you were stuck between the dilemma of her being married, the fact you’d made her a cheater and been an asset in said cheating but then also the fact her husband was an alleged cheater and they were likely to get a divorce anyway. It made you toss and turn considerably, a lump forming in your throat as you tried to keep it together. The guilt was enough to push you straight back to her office the next day, leaned against the desk again as you poured out your emotions.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You say, trying to keep it together enough to explain yourself. “I like you, Rhaenyra, but you’re married and you have kids and you’re older, probably much too old for me.”
She doesn’t seem all too worried about it, it confuses you, it makes it hard to read her.
“If you’d heard rumours about a likely divorce between me and my husband, it already happened. In fact, it happened before the start of the year, I just kept it quiet because I didn’t see a reason to tell everyone about it.” She replies, and you feel almost stupid for believing that rumour.
“Right.. Sorry.” You reply, but she shrugs it off.
“If you really believe I’m too old, you can leave. I wouldn’t pressure you into anything, but I do really like you. I don’t lie about having ‘favourites’.” She says, and it almost seems like she’s joking, but you just about catch the seriousness in the undertones.
You start to think it through. She is older, but not much, it’s not the most insane age gap you’d heard of, and you could deal with her having kids if it really did get serious enough for you to ever actually meet them.
“I like you too, I really really do.” You reply, and you watch as her face lights up, just barely noticeable.
She moves around her desk, pulling you close, and you can’t help but cling onto her as she gently sways you. You press a few kisses against her face before she manages to convince you to let her take you out.
The next few weeks feel straight out of a fairytale, you were quick to learn that Rhaenyra was an extremely generous lover, in every sense of the word. She took care of you far too well, surprise dates to cafe’s, restaurants, taking you out whenever she could. Not only that, but by the second date, she was buying you stuff like her card had no limit, something you mentioned in passing was left in your dorm, any snacks you’d craved, and just gifts she’d known you’d like. You’d never felt as secure in a relationship, and Rhaenyra had taken it upon herself to show just how appreciated you were, whether it was in her office or your dorm, and you’d taken great pleasure in talking her into taking care of you whenever possible.
A/N:guys.. it's been so freaking long but when i got this ask i got to writing IMMEDIATELY. i have like one other ask to work on, and i've actually only seen 1 episode of the new season of hotd but like... i needed to write this, i hope it's everything u want anon <3
