40 years of top gun and where's the maverick x reader fic ???? i'm begging y'all cos i need him so bad since I rewatched both of the movie (ﾉ≧∇≦)ﾉ
⊹ ࣪ ˖ SOMETHING STUCK
─ professor!baelor targaryen x f!reader
summary : a thing for your professor leads to others, and there's not going back [f!reader is in her mid 20s]
warning(s) : SMUT (minor DNI), teasing, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, almost caught, slight exhibitionism, orgasm denial, age gap, hand fixation, slightly dubcon & no y/n + almost no pronouns
word count : 2,5k
a/n : english isn't my first language + i'm coming back from the grave and a huge break from writing so it could be a little rusty; also i rewatched the piano teacher so it gave me that idea for professor! baelor and so on👁️
You always thought that you never had a penchant for older men, or at least it never occurred to your mind before, but something changed with your new medieval literature teacher, Baelor Targaryen.
So starting this new semester with his class was enough to see things definitely from another angle.
It started so slowly that you couldn’t tell when and where it started precisely, like the sinuous snake whispering delicious words in your ear, revealing its idea only when the apple was bitten. You fell into the appetizing trap without realising it.
Baelor was nevertheless cordial, like the exemplar professor he is: not a word or a glance suggesting an invitation for a relationship other than the one he maintains with his students.
Yet something about him also changed, gradually, slowly, when he saw you.
Like a seed from a poisonous vine planted insidiously.
Looking back, maybe it started that early spring day: you were late for classes, which was quite rare, so you had to sit in the front row, a little too close to his office to be comfortable. Maybe it was Baelor’s understanding smile when you open the door in a hurry, breathless by your race to class, or maybe it was your teacher’s slightly too tight shirt he wore that day, although you only saw him since winter wearing a turtleneck or a big sweater.
Yes, maybe that day you were distracted by the movement of his shirt and arms, his rings that he kept turning around his fingers, his apparent canines when he responded with a smile to another student, his intense, passionate gaze, held by his two-toned eyes, the kind of gaze you never noticed until this day.
And then it gradually became a habit, without even being late, you caught yourself arriving on time, for you could sit close to his desk, deliberately. Your eyes constantly followed Baelor at each of his classes, like a moth in front of a flame, lingering a little too long on his long fingers, captivated by his voice. You were being less and less discreet as the weeks went by, and to be true, you could only see him in the amphitheater, ignoring everything on the board and the very meaning of his words every time he opened his mouth; as long as he was there in front of you, the rest seemed irrelevant.
Obviously, Baelor was not blind to your shift, and for the first time, part of him wanted to play with this forbidden fruit.
He quickly noticed the red that rose to your cheeks every time he pronounced your name and the embarrassment that overwhelmed you when he insisted on your first name. He willingly rolled back his sleeves, because he had notified one day, a little warmer day than usual, that you had bited your lips at the sight of his forearms. He had repressed a small laugh at this detail, but could not ignore what became a problem: crossing your eyes, sparkling with envy every time he tried to give his lecture, and his inability to remain impassive.
Gods only knew how much you tried to remain demure, but you realized that it couldn’t continue like this for much longer.
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You were freshening up your face in the second-floor restroom, seeking some calm after a long day, so long that your eyes easily tire under the cold white overhead light, almost sizzling on the white and used toilet tiles.
You had just come out of Baelor’s class and wondered if this time, the tension had not risen too high between you two.
The three hours spent in the amphitheater had seemed endless. Baelor had eyes only for you and he seemed to purposely ignore the other students there. The way he pronounced your name, like the rolling of a curse under his tongue, couldn’t go unnoticed, and you felt like your chances of being ignored by the rest of the classroom had been reduced to nothing.
His charming smile and his cursed black T-shirt bringing out the apparent muscles of his arms were like a Damocles’ sword above your core. And you felt especially hot today.
Just one last sigh before going out, that’s what you tell yourself when the door suddenly opened.
He only took three steps for him to come towards you, grabbed your arm, and took you towards one of the cabins with him. Baelor closed the door behind him with a somewhat strange ease, and in a few seconds his mouth was against yours, devouring, hungry, like a starved man.
To say that it wasn’t a release was a lie.
First stunned by his move, you end up melting against him in a vibrating moan, you let him guide you and control the kiss, with a possessive hand on your jaw while the other flies over your clothes. His touch felt hot against your skin, like being held by an infernal god; you just wanted to throw your shirt away, feel him against you.
“Fucking finally,” two words he said.
You whined again. It’s the first time you hear him swear; his voice is so deep that it resonates throughout your body, the feeling so delicious you wanted to hear him again and again.
You can’t help but reciprocate the kiss, letting yourself go into the flow of thought that floods your brain. Baelor steps back and laughs slightly, perhaps surprised that you kissed him with such envy before putting your lips on you again, on your lips, the corner of them, your jaw. Every fragment of your face was kissed by him, the feeling of his beard tickling over your sensitive skin.
Your two foreheads are almost stuck to each other and already sweaty, you heard him saying something against your ear without really understanding, and he was already kissing your neck, behind your jaw. You breathed a long inspiration, your eyes closed, when you felt his teeth brush against the skin of your neck.
Filthy bastard, you think, but you are unable to pronounce those words out loud, just taking enough time to savour this feeling.
“I have 15 min before my next class”.
You melt under his touch; the friction of your pants against your cunt only makes your desire grow harder and harder.
Baelor doesn’t say another word and sits on his knees right in front of you; the simple act of lowering his eyes to meet your gaze fails to send you into stars. He looks so good here, like he always belongs here. His gestures become more rushed, you pushed up your shirt to reveal your bra and body, while his nose is pressed against the skin of your belly as if to soak in your scent. The man in frond ot you stopped for a moment here before he quickly unbuckled your belt to lower your pants, revealing your clothed cunt. His hands hold your hips firmly in place, and you swear you hear him growl at the mere sight of your white and wet panties.
“You smell so good, you know that, right?”
You blush more if that were possible. Gods, it’s hot in this narrow cabin, you thought.
“Please professor.”.
He chuckled and kissed you over the fabric, his tongue teasing you just long enough for your knees to tremble. The mixture of the pressure of his nose against your clit, the friction of your panties and his tongue against your lips is a torture that Baelor seems more than happy to inflict on you.
“Be quiet ”. He said nothing more.
You try to repress a moan when he lowers your panties. The fresh air from the toilets contrasts with the warmth of your bodies, and you try to grip against the wall to avoid falling on the floor. Baelor, he, is still just as determined, you heard him whisper something against your cunt, and his tongue starts to work miracles on you, you could swear you have seen his beard already wet from your juices, under the bright spot above your heads. Right there, framed by his two hands, which, you are sure, will leave marks on your skin tomorrow, you could only think of the fresco painted in front of you: your professor on his knees eating you out: Baelor’s eyes are so intense that you might see a predatory flame burning behind his two-toned pupils.
You are close and you beg him not to stop, chasing your orgasm for good. He continues to devour you, and he is so good that it doesn’t take much longer to cum on his face, eyes closed, a flash of pleasure seems to pass through your body, overwhelmed by his touch, legs trembling. You feel the need to regain your balance, but Baelor does not weaken and still holds you against his face, you slip a hand into his hair, gripping him and begging him to give you a little break. But the man in front of you drinks from you as if he had just discovered the recipe for ambrosia and do not stop right away.
He stepped back and looked at you with a predatory smile before getting back to it.
“Darling, you taste so good”.
He kisses your pubis, the inside of your thighs, his fingers slide between your hips, your ass, your thighs, leaving behind them the imprint of his rings on your skin. While you are already overstimulated, he enjoys pinching the skin of your asscheekds with sliding a hand towards one of your breasts, also squeezing your nipple. You can help yourself from moaning and shivering, the corner of your eyes already wet and it seems to amuse him. He gives an umpteenth kiss on your cunt before lightly slapping it, twice; a jolt of pain crossed your body but the pleasure was stronger.
“ Oh.. So sensitive ”.
He licks his lips and gives you a slightly stronger slap; overstimulated, you lacked the flexibility to move and you moaned louder in the toilet. You almost cry and you don’t know if you will be able to satisfy his hunger. Still on his knees, he grabs your hips to turn you around, facing the wall and one of his huge hands comes to press on the bottom of your back to arch you towards his face; you feel his breath against your lips and close your eyes in anticipation.
His hands caressed your ass, gentle this time, slid along your thighs and his right hand lifted your knee so that you could place your foot on the toilet bowl. There, you legs are more open for him, your back arched, you almost need to twist your back to see him behind you.
“ The best view in the world, girl ”.
And in the blink of an eye, he gets back to work, kissing, licking your cunt with intense precision and attention. Then you feel his fingers moving closer to your pussy, one hand while the other comes to caress your clit with an almost painful slowness while his other hand teased your hole.
“ Baelor… I’m close, please ”.
He chuckled, “ Hold up a little bit longer, darling ”.
You whined.
A feeling of relief invaded you when you finally felt his long finger penetrate you, too slowly for your taste certainly, but gods, what a relief.
You thought that you were finally going to be able to abandon yourself to pleasure, closing your eyes, your face against the cold and white tiles of the cabin, when the bathroom door opened. You and Baelor stopped, holding your breath at the sound of footsteps approaching your cabin, then entering the neighboring cabin.
But Baelor’s gaze sparkles with an idea.
“ Be quiet”. He whispered.
You didn’t understand immediately why.
And then he pushed a second finger and you pressed your hand against your mouth to hide your moan. A feeling of embarrassment and guilt invades you: leaning forward there, stuck between the cold wall of the toilets and Baelor, trying to make as little noise as possible, but how not to hear the wet noises coming from your teacher’s expert gestures, that you couldn’t know.
The fear of getting caught like this didn’t help you at all, you felt even hotter just thinking about this ; your cunt got wetter at this simple thought. Baelor chuckled behind you, you didn’t have to look at him to know that his beard must have been drenched with your fluids.
You heard the person peed in the next cabin, and this simple sound almost send you over the edge, the heat flowing through your body from your cheeks to your cunt. You rushed a hand over your clit, chasing your orgasm but Baelor slapped it away, reminding you that indeed he was the one in control in the small room.
The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours between you two, waiting for the stranger to leave. Baelor was holding you against him, his fingers deep into your hole and your hips, and holding both of your breath.
Finally, you heard the stranger leaving, you both waited for them to wash their hands, close the door and their footsteps fading away.
You breathe out in a long groan, feeling ready to finish what you started.
You were so close but every time you were about to release yourself on his nose and mouth, he stopped, slowed down and pushed a little back, getting his fingers out and pinching your internal thighs, feeling empty. Tears rolling down your cheeks, you were whining like a cat in heat, unable to cum as you needed it
At this point, you were just grinding yourself on Baelor but he seems like he didn’t want to give you more, and your voice sounded like a muffled plea instead of cohesive words. He didn’t say another word, but you felt him smiling against your skin. You needed more, just another kiss, another bite, just something to fill the emptiness inside you, but Baelor gave you nothing more than he already did.
You no longer cared about “being quiet,” and the bathroom was now filled with moans, groans, and cries.
Still, Baelor gave you nothing.
Instead, he gave you a wet kiss on you ass cheek and a gentle slap on the other one before getting up on his feet
“ You’ve been a good girl, but I told you I didn’t have much time ”.
You tried to open your eyes and turn your head to looked at him, helpless.
His two-colored eyes looked back at you with amusement and, almost, pity. Baelor wiped his mouth and beard from your fluids after licking his lips.
You tried to realign your thoughts to comprehend what was happening, your eyes still wet from all that crying, while your cunt was wet from pleasure, and a confused look held on your face.
He left the bathroom without another word; your body fell to your knees, exhausted, trembling and terribly frustrated, unable to make you cum on your own from this point.
You were now hoping that you could finish that talk with your professor later the same day.
And to be honest, Baelor was hoping the same.
like imagine being on all four on the royal bed, you've already come, twice, you're over stimulated while Maekar is fucking you from behind, trusting hard, grunting, his hands holding your hips, making sure to leave marks for days
then there's Aerion abusing your mouth, tears on the corner of your eyes, almost gagging on his cock, his hand grabbing your hair cos' he's too focused on his own release
but Maekar notices that with a " Son, be gentler. " after an arsh trust in your cunt, so Aerion sigh " Fine. " as he tried to slow down and carress your cheek.. but they both hear you whippering as they speak...
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