Crawling Back To You Part 4 - The Beginning
a modern!lyonel baratheon fic
Part 3
crossposted on ao3
This chapter: we go back to the night that started it all.
IF YOU'RE STUMBLING UPON THIS BEFORE PART 1 JUST KNOW IT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE/BEFORE PART 1 SO HAPPY READING!
CW: smutttttt under the cut, dry humping, squirting, fingering, p in v sex, slight sub lyonel baratheon, riding, cumming inside (not an endorsement, wrap it before you tap it)
lmk if i missed any
a/n:
-i’m not arguing with a man with big beautiful eyes, whatever you say beautiful!
-I’m also breaking my silence: there should be more sub!lyonel so I’m taking one for the team and writing it myself you COWARDSSSS
-In case i've done a shit job at explaining the timeline or you're confused: our reader is 24 in this flashback and lyonel is 36, making her about 29 in the present and him 41.
please do not repost my writing anywhere, or feed it to any AI/LLMs I do not authorize
feedback, questions and ideas are welcome so don't be shy, just be gentle with me I've never posted my writing before lol ❤️🩹
word count: 10.6k yes i am insane thank you very much
It hadn’t been longer than a few minutes since you’d gotten back home, walking through the long hallway that took you to your room, when you saw it: A garment bag hanging on your bedroom door, as you zipped it open, a backless lilac dress revealed itself along with the usual note from your mom.
“For tomorrow.
Pickup (Dave): 6 pm
Final Prep: 7 – 8 pm
Greeting at Golden Carpet: 8 – 9 pm
Family Press: 8 – 8:30 pm
Mingling Rounds: 8:30 – 9:30 pm
Freshen Up, Guest Temp Check: 9:30 -10 pm
Live Auction**: 10 – 11:30 pm
**Co-host with Lyonel please?
Keep Dave on the loop re: where you’re going after
Call me ASAP!!
x,
mom”
You started your “the day before of” routine, trying on the dress to make sure you didn’t need to go for a fitting the next morning. Almost as if on cue, your phone started ringing. Mom. Of course.
“Why haven’t you called? We’re 24 hours away and I need to know if I can count on you!” She was walking into the venue for tomorrow probably, a huge echo following her words.
You finally put the entire thing on, it was exactly your size, at least your mom knew that about you. “Hi mom, I had a great day, thank you for asking. How was YOUR day?” Sitting down on your bed, you waited for her answer.
“Not great, my original auction host is stuck in Lannisport of all places, if you can believe.” She answered between her conversation with someone else about cutlery and the final drinks and appetizers menu.
“Who even was this mysterious host?” Hunger struck you at that moment, but the dress had to come off first. Knowing your mom, she’d faint if she found out you were wandering the house while wearing it. And she’d most certainly have a heart attack if she even suspected you were eating with it on.
“That’s not relevant at this point, bug, will you do it!?”
“I don’t know, I mean, I don’t really know him.” You headed for the kitchen, a bit apprehensive at the prospect of spending such a long, camera-ready time with a man you knew very little about but had seen passed out and half naked in the club just a few months ago.
“You know Lyonel!”
You opened the fridge to grab a tub of ice cream. “You know what I mean…” You’d seen Lyonel more at the club than you’d seen him at these functions. Neither place had sparked a conversation of more than a few words, running in the same circles didn’t mean you actually had anything to talk about, and he had always been courteous but also... aloof at best when in front of you.
“Pleeeeeeease, pretty please, do this for me?”
“Is this you working in supposedly mysterious ways and helping me with Dad while I help you?” Your father had recently started trying to get you more involved in Yellow Stag for some reason and, although you had no real desire to follow his footsteps, you figured that this gesture would placate him for now. Besides, you didn’t know much about Lyonel, but you knew he knew how to party, so he’d at least be fun and follow your lead. Or, you would follow his.
“That’s exactly what it is.” Your mom laughed nervously, probably at the fact that you caught her.
“Fiiiiine!”
--
Your driver, Dave, was always early. The fear of the Gods had been put in him by your mom a long time ago, he could never make you be late, ever. She’d done the same to you, so you were also ready early, always. “Just breathe. If this Lyonel fella knows what’s good for him, he’ll be nice. It’s his dad’s company more than your own dad’s, no?” He did a better job of calming your nerves than your mom, not that she really tried, she was busy with her own anxieties today.
Your dad knew Lyonel better, as he recently started working more closely with him in a new and very hush-hush project, but Dave was right. It was as much on him as it was on you for the auction to go well. Not only because of the money but the optics too. You knew very little about this mysterious new project, but you were aware that it was a huge risk, and a lot of eyes would be on them both tonight.
Being at the venue an hour early only really helped if you were allowed to help with whatever was still not ready, at least that’s what you always thought, but your mom really just wanted you in sight for moral support. Once she started taking over on these things, it had always been that way: She needed someone to look over to for reassurance, a smile and a sign that it was all, in fact, okay. She never let you touch anything either, constantly telling you to just stay where she could see you.
So even though you thought you could be doing more, you guessed you were already helping if she felt calmer with you around. It unfortunately also gave you time to overthink about Lyonel and your shared duties tonight, you weren’t normally a nervous person, but this was getting you in your head.
Sure, you’d seen him unconscious and without his shirt in the VIP area of the club, his entourage of fellow heirs barely conscious themselves; but seeing him sober was a different thing. There was a lightness to him that you yourself were missing at these things, not that you were tightly wound up, it was only that anything related to your dad’s work made you uncharacteristically anxious. That anxiety was tenfold now that you had to actually participate, even if it was a small role and for just one night. You needed to get it together.
By the time people started arriving you remembered just how hard the organizing and hosting of it all was, and the fact that your mom was in charge of it mostly on her own. She was amazing at making each and every guest she put her arms around -or whose hand she shook- feel special, you didn’t know how she did it. You knew she had two assistants that scoured social media to find out anything and everything they could about all these people, but your mom still had to memorize all those tidbits, and she never missed the mark. If she ever got tired of your dad he would be so incredibly fucked, he could never pull this off, not with your mom’s finesse.
Your mom had come to your side while your picture in the golden carpet was taken. “Loosen up baby, you’re posing weird. You’ll do great.” She whispered in your ear as she posed with you and subtly helped you look more relaxed. Not long after, she grabbed you and your father once most of the important people had gone inside, insisting that she had to follow and you two would have to hold the fort with the press.
“Will there be any teasing or news of your new project with Lyonel Baratheon tonight? We’ve been hearing whispers that whatever next step you guys are taking is a gamble, and the majority of the board is here tonight...” A reporter immediately asked your father, who had prepared for that one question and its variations the most.
“We’ve got something really good cooking, can’t really reveal anything yet, just because we haven’t finished putting the team that we want leading it together, but I love working with Lyonel and you can expect some sort of announcement probably next year if it all goes well. I’m confident it’ll go well! Thank you!” He answered gracefully.
You were about to move onto the next reporter with your dad when the same guy asked if he could interview you, you said it was okay. Unlike your dad, you had not prepared for this.
“We’ve never seen you take any interest in joinin your dad but we just learned you’re leading the auction tonight with Lyonel, your dad’s already working closely with him and now.. you. Is tonight maybe the start of you being more involved at Yellow Stag? Is what you’re doing tonight related to the mysterious project at all? It is weird timing, I gotta say.”
Fuck. Fucking fuck. You didn’t know if you would ever really work with/for your dad, it was always an option, but you didn’t know right now, and you also didn’t want the door to close (especially so publicly) in case you ever wanted to take your dad up on the offer. And what’s worse, you had to think quickly, this outlet was notorious for twisting people’s words and you were not as media trained as your dad. You’d been briefly trained for basic questions, not for this.
Anything you could say had the potential to sour the event your mom had carefully planned, it could make your dad (who kept looking back at you with barely masked worry) and Lyonel look bad if you weren’t careful with your words. You didn’t want him to hate you before he had the chance to get to know you a little.
“You know, a lot of exciting things are happening! I’m never not proud of the work that my dad does, and him working with Lyonel, someone that has such fresh ideas, so closely is of course just so comforting, because it means he’s open to new stuff that could be brought to the table. If I ever do end up joining him at Yellow Stag, I would love for it to work out that way, but as of right now I’m only cheering them on from the sidelines. I’m working with Lyonel tonight, who I really look up to, I’m excited about getting a taste of how it is to be in his team. Thank you!”
‘Who I really look up to?’ Why would you fucking say that? Hopefully that wasn’t so bad, fuck.
A few more questions were answered by your dad, with you opting to not offer any more comments until you were better prepared. Most were more superficial or about your mom’s talent for event planning, him encouraging you to add to his answers as if he was seeing a different side of you. Eventually you started to get tired and the night was barely starting.
Right as you walked together towards the venue’s entrance, you felt a warm hand on your back and turned to see its owner.
Lyonel.
He was wearing a dark grey tux and, as close as he was to you, you could smell the rich mahogany from whatever cologne he had on. “Been looking for you in there, let’s talk.” He smiled warmly, nodding hi to your dad. You nodded as he turned back to you, taking you in. He gestured for you to head inside with him and when you started walking he guided you, keeping his hand on your lower back.
“Have you ever lead an auction or something like it before?” You asked as you walked with him. By the time the press section on the golden carpet was several steps behind you, he dropped his hand from your back and started fidgeting with it until you reached a weird terrain that not even the carpet on top of it could smooth it out. He offered his arm to you, winking.
“I got you.”
“I haven’t lead an auction before, no, but I entertain people for a living. And for these people it is really not about the money, it’s about the entertainment.” Lyonel answered your earlier question as you found an empty corner inside and settled there. He handed you a flute with champagne he’d quickly grabbed from one of the waiters walking around with trays.
“What do you mean?” The bubbly champagne was welcome, you hoped it would help you wind down.
He was looking around, a bit antsy. “We just need to put on a good show and they’ll start loosening up.” He took a long drag of his vape and quickly exhaled.
“Are you nervous?” If you were both nervous this could really go south, and that made you even more nervous, though you hoped you were hiding it well.
He stepped closer, grabbing your hand and starting to fidget with the jewelry in your fingers and wrist. “I have trouble keeping still, and yeah, I’m a little on edge tonight. But listen, I know you’re chill so, let’s just have fun tonight, you follow my lead and we’ll have fun!” He nodded at you, like that would make the point get across harder or something.
“My parents also need to look good tonight. I’m your girl, I’ll follow your lead.” Chuckling, you assured him, feeling the champagne loosen you up a little.
“Hey, do you like dancing?” He smiled, his tone sounding more grounded now, and a little excited. “I can point out some of the people bidding tonight, and maybe later we can do a lap so you know the rest?” He’d gotten a little closer to you, holding out his other hand for you to take. “I think that’d be super helpful for us, and besides, It’d be good for us to be seen interacting. Would you like that?”
Would I like to dance and be seen interacting with him or find out more about the audience?
There was an inherent flirtiness to his tone now that he’d relaxed, you didn’t think he was even trying, it just came to him naturally, and that smile was completely disarming, it was genuine and it lit up his face completely. This had been the first real conversation you’d had with him, and short as it was, you felt like he could convince you of anything after this. You’d start with a dance.
Moving onto the dance floor, you looked to him for guidance. “Lead me, then.”
“Glad you said yes to the dancing.” He whispered as you both started to move. “It would’ve been a shame for a dress like this to be wasted on just you standing still on stage.”
“How altruistic of you, but I guess we are at a charity event after all.” You replied, the words sounding more self-deprecating than you’d intended, making you red in the face from embarrassment. Great, now he’s gonna pity me or worse, think I’m annoying.
His face twisted in confusion and he tilted his head back to really look at you as he shook his head. “I fear I’ve given you the wrong idea, darling.” The hand holding yours brought them both to his chest, halting the dance, his other hand pulling you by your neck gently towards him.
“I want you to listen to me when I say this: you are hot girl in a hot dress. Act. Like. It.” He then twirled you unexpectedly, positioning your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and swayed to the melody.
Now that you didn’t have his gigantic eyes staring you down, you dared try and explain it to him. “I just- these things kinda annoy me, they put me off my game...”
“Use that, use that annoyance. Fucking look at you, you’re stunning!” He whispered in your ear once more, one of his hands now on your cheeks, making you look around. “No cunt in this room could ever, ever deserve you.” His deep voice in your ear sent a jolt of electricity through your spine, making your head spin.
You looked around, not that you could focus that much on the crowd around you, but you eventually turned to him to answer weakly. “They’re all old, Lyonel.”
Still with his arms caging you to him, his fingers caressed your sides while he spoke to you softly, like you were a wild creature that would spook easy and flee at any sudden movement or change in tone.
It was aggravating.
His face was too close, your noses almost touching as you glanced at his mouth and fought the urge to taste his lips.
“They could never have you, not even as a trophy wife, darling. You entertaining them 30 minutes from now is the closest they’ll ever get to a girl like you, up there you’re untouchable. I need you... confident.”
You were trying to focus but your mind kept coming back to the thumb just below your breast, wishing he’d have mercy on you and at least touch it over your dress.
His lips grazed your ear as he spoke. “And that’s an order.”
You were losing your mind, and it was so, so confusing.
Was he hyping you up and sweet talking you just so you wouldn’t fuck up his big night, or was his flirting a happy coincidence? Or a third, worse, option: He didn’t even realize what he was doing to you and was just being kind, as he should. His lingering touches were all in your head. Fuck.
“Why, because we’re both hot?” Maybe a bit bold, but he’d been bold first, besides, you needed to do/say something, you’d been too quiet.
His laugh boomed, making others turn to you both as he twirled you again so you’d be face to face once more. He shook his head at you, biting his lip. “Yeah, that and my fucking job depends on it. Mostly the hot thing though.” His eyes dropped to your lips briefly, catching himself immediately (he hoped), he changed the subject and his hand dropped dangerously close to your ass, as if to test you.
He started pointing out what he called “tonight’s biggest targets”, moving you across the dance floor so you could have a look as he told you a bit about them.
“Ryder Penrose’s over there by the fountain, he’s a fucking cunt. Loves spending money though, I bet we can squeeze some extra from him.”
“That bald guy is Coren Cafferen, he’ll lowball whatever he’s bidding on but will crumble under the slightest public pressure.”
“Laisa Swann’s the woman in the black and white dress, there with the waiter. She loves to belittle service people, but she also just got divorced and took half of her husband’s… everything. She’s looking to spend it just to spite him. He cheated, constantly.”
“The tall guy with the hot wife, that’s Derrock Musgood. He owns a small rugby team your dad is interested in buying for the company, and he loves praise.”
You didn’t know if his voice in your ear sounded the way it did because he wanted to rile you up or because he wanted to make sure only you heard him, he was disparaging these people left and right after all. It didn’t really matter, it was having an effect on you, and you were struggling to stay normal and cordial.
Unbeknownst to you, he was struggling too.
Maybe it was the fact that the only person Lyonel had touched for almost a year was… Lyonel, but he was weirdly, slowly getting aroused by being so close to a pretty girl and not doing anything to her, other than tease with lingering touches and whispering closer to her ear than he should. He didn’t even knew if you noticed, your demeanor hadn’t changed that much, and you could’ve only been flirting back because you knew he flirted with everyone.
Nevertheless, it felt like foreplay, and it was growing on him, having his hand on your lower back just above that sinful fucking dress, one layer away from the parts of your body he really wanted to put his mouth and hands on. He hoped you noticed, he hoped his advances were welcome.
He knew you’d seen him at the club on numerous occasions, but he wondered if you’d seen him see you. In the recent months he'd started noticing the way those tight, skimpy dresses clung to your body for dear life as you danced with your friends, how intoxicating you looked amongst an ocean of sweaty people, how hot it was when you found what he imagined was that night’s one night stand and he saw your dancing bodies sticking to each other.
Then he started envying those people and wondering how you’d feel under him. Or over him. Or any which way you’d have him. If you’d ever have him.
The moment he’d seen you in the golden carpet answering questions he knew it would be difficult. He’d seen you around these things before but he’d never paid much attention to you, and you’d always ignored him, probably because you both associated each other with your dad/his work. But tonight was different, and he was pent up. He should behave, but he physically couldn’t.
Yes, he flirted with everyone, but it had been a long time since he’d actually wanted something to result from said flirting. It surprised him. He felt it, you wanted him too, or at least he hoped you wanted him too and he wasn’t projecting things onto you just because he hasn’t been inside someone in a long time.
His head was spinning, he wondered if he could convince you to go and lock yourselves in the bathroom and just fuck you real quick, he’d be in and out!
Maybe you’d hike up your dress, let him push aside whatever underwear you had on, surprising him by being already wet, and allow him rut into your warm and wet hole. Maybe he’d have to stick his fingers in your mouth to try and keep you quiet while you looked at him with those doe eyes pleading for him to…
No.
Your mom interrupted your dancing, letting you both know it was time to freshen up. You went with her, giving Lyonel an apologetic smile, as well as some much needed respite to get his mind out of the gutter and time to go splash some water on his face.
There’s too much riding on tonight. Focus.
You took advantage of having your mom help you reapply some of your make up, and asked her for some intel on the people Lyonel had talked to you about. She had a look of pride in her eyes, as if the shoes you were stepping into tonight were closer to hers than your dad’s. She shared everything she remembered with no objection.
“Go get ‘em baby!” She’d kissed your cheek.
---
The auction began and something had shifted in you. You had a newfound confidence, courtesy of your mom, and Lyonel. He’d given you an order and you would obey: Standing tall and confident, you nodded at him to began the auction.
“Good evening. On behalf of everyone at Yellow Stag, I just want to thank you all for showing up! We’ve got some pretty fucking cool items we’re hoping you can take off our hands. But before we begin, can we please all just give it up for Barbenna Dondarrion? She’s the mastermind behind this evening. So please!” The room erupted with cheering and clapping for your mom, it warmed your heart that he wanted her to get her flowers as well.
Lyonel pointed between you two. “You have met us both, probably several times before at a closer capacity but tonight we are your hosts. We are salesmen… for a good cause! Take it away, darling.” He looked to you, encouraging you to continue.
“Yes! Tonight’s proceeds will be going directly to the sports budget in the most underprivileged schools in both the Stormlands as well as the Flea Bottom district in the capital. This will allow for schools to encourage their students into participating in sports while actually having the infrastructure necessary for this. That can go from the most basic of things like, let’s say, soccer uniforms and cleats; to the highest level, like travel expenses for tourneys across the realm, or even the building of playing fields and gyms. Honestly, their whole world will open if we all do our part tonight, so let’s bid!!” People actually clapped, rich people loved doing the bare minimum.
Lyonel thought you were adorable. “Let’s get this party fucking started shall we? It’s for the kidddssss!!!!”
And so the auction took off. Your charming and sharp personality was immediately a really a good match to his confident, flirty one. Together you managed to get 26 items auctioned off, the bidding wars not being as hard as you’d imagined, but you’d been very aware of the four people Lyonel was focusing on.
Ryder Penrose had bid on six items, you’d eventually realized he’d been bluffing and low-balling on the first five when he immediately offered more than the set price for the sixth. A Knights Basketball Jersey, autographed by the team captain. Lyonel had his assistant bluff a bid for that one item, working a secret word into what he was saying in the microphone at the time Penrose first bid. The war for the item lasted seven offer increases until Penrose offered nine times the original price. He really did love spending money.
Coren Cafferen’s cheap ass only bid on two items, Lyonel guessed at the second because he’d underbid as if no one would notice, giving him the perfect opportunity to have him dig his own grave by claiming to really really covet the limited edition vintage trading cards, only to have his assistant enter into a bidding war lasting only three offer increases and Cafferen eventually getting the item for two times the original price.
You’d hustled Laisa Swann yourself, your mom’s intel paying off: Swann loved kids… Well, she loved hearing people talk about how much she loved kids. She bid on one item only, well, more than an item it was a commitment. You’d praised her so much for committing to sponsor one up and coming athletes from Flea Bottom for 10 years, that she felt the need to offer to sponsor four more. All upfront.
Lyonel thought that was so hot, how you found her weakness and made the evil milf actually do something good for once with all that money. It made his dick pulse a little, how you acted like you were truly amazed at her charitability.
Your mother had mentioned that your dad had personally gotten an item for Derrock Musgood into the auction because he’d wanted it for years, never being able to buy it from the original collector. Your father had pulled some strings, buy it for him and get it in the auction as a gesture of good faith, hoping that would encourage Musgood to sell his team.
Literally no one else wanted the item, it was just so fucking specific: a first edition of Rugby Life issue #1, the realm’s first rugby magazine that only ran for 9 issues 30 years ago. You didn’t even need to praise Musgood, he offered a bit more than the original price and as he won, he immediately looked for your dad in the crowd, raising his glass at him. He had both spent more money than necessary, and the company now had literally bought some good will with him. You knew Lyonel and your dad were gonna be happy.
By the time the auction was done, you and Lyonel had drank about four glasses of champagne each and then you were informed that you’d raised more money than the company analysts had predicted, you suspected it was mostly your teamwork on Lyonel’s targets, but also because of the way you bounced off each other. Together, you finally told the room of wealthy people that they’d actually made a difference tonight and the room erupted in cheers and roars.
Before you got off the stage Lyonel announced he was hosting an after party at midnight, as he always did after these things. Officially, everyone was invited, but really… only fellow heirs/heiresses or people from their circles attended his after parties. He offered his hand as he helped you get off the stage, and when you found his eyes you saw that there was definitely something between you two, maybe you’d be brave enough to see if it lead somewhere tonight. Even if it was just, I don’t know, the possibility of respectful mentorship. But you hoped it wasn’t.
A small circle formed, all the people within your age group started congratulating you, saying you were a natural and what not. Lyonel suddenly came up behind you. “Find me at the entrance when you’re done here.” He pressed a kiss on your cheek and walked away. Some of your friends started asking questions about him, if you were close or how long this alliance had existed, then they asked if you’d go to the after party. You normally didn’t, but you had made your decision already, so you’d at least feel him out; see if he’d like you there or if he just wanted to say ‘good job, bye little girl!’
A few minutes later you caught up to him. You found him smoking, and suddenly you really wanted to share that specific cigarette with him.
“Your vape die?” You asked as you reached your hand out, curling your finger so he’d share.
He took another drag and then passed it to you, looking you over. “I only use that shit indoors, like at the office or stuff like this. Good job up there.”
Oh. Hopefully it didn’t show in your face just how devastating it was that he actually just wanted to say ‘good job, bye little girl!. “Yeah, you too. You were right, I- I had fun.” You smiled, a bit shy, then took a drag and offered the cigarette back to him.
His smile got really big just then. “Right on! I’m glad you had fun, I had fun too. I just needed to decompress and smoke this as a victory. Glad I can share it with you.” He took the cigarette back from you. “You up for some more fun?” He tilted his head a little to look at you better, more intently.
Oh? “What do you have in mind?”
He got close to you and grabbed you by the waist. “I don’t know if you were paying attention back there but, I have a very exclusive, very fun after party to host. Be my date?” He took a final drag of the cigarette and flicked it to the floor, squashing it with his foot to buy himself some time to try and look unbothered in case your answer was no. Then his beautiful eyes were back on you, hoping he didn’t look so desperate. And he was desperate.
High on all the praise and the alcohol buzz... and the fact that he looked like he was going to ruin you, you agreed to go with him.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll go to your little get together, Lyonel Baratheon.” You put his hand on his chest, suddenly noticing how warm he was as he laughed at your little dig. “I just gotta let my driver know that I’m going somewhere else. Once we get there I’ll tell him when to pick me up.” You took your phone out to text Dave.
“Tell him I’ll drive you back, let the sorry cunt go home.” Lyonel moved a strand of your hair behind your ear. His other hand still on your waist.
The drive to Storm’s End was mostly silent, you both were trying with all your might not to jump each other, you were about 90% sure Lyonel wanted to kiss you, at least, but you kept reminding yourself that he worked with your dad, you wanted to be absolutely certain before doing anything stupid. Maybe he was so high on how well the auction had gone that he just didn’t want the night to end and he’d change his mind tomorrow.
As for Lyonel, he wanted you to loosen up some more, you’d seemed a bit wound up at the start of the night and he didn’t want your first real interaction to be all about his father’s company, like everything else in his life was. He wanted to have fun with you outside of that first, then and only then would he try and find out if you wanted him to fuck you. At this point he was praying to the seven that you did, it was starting to feel like an all-consuming need that he kept stalling, but he was selfish most of the time, he could spare that tonight. At least for a while.
Storm’s End was a HUGE estate, probably three times the size of your own home at Blackhaven, which made sense, the Baratheons were really old money. You hadn’t been there before, only hearing about it from your parents or other people in your circle. When you finally arrived to the gardens through the back gate, you saw the arrangement. There were lights all over, even in the hedges all around, and you could feel the loud music from the DJ booth inside your bones. Lyonel said he’d be back in a moment and you started swaying to the music, feeling more relaxed as more time went by.
“We got alcoholic beverages for days, I just think you should stay hydrated too.” He came back with a bottle of water for each of you, and he’d removed his tux jacket and bow tie, the top two buttons of his black shirt undone and his hair more unkempt.
“I think I wanna be really present for the rest of the night, I appreciate the water. Are we dancing?” You looked at the makeshift dance floor in between the hedges and then back at him.
Lyonel grabbed your hand and led you over to the middle of it all, he was such a frat boy, fist pumping and just doing the most for the first few songs, intoxicated in his element: excess and overstimulation reigned the first few songs, not really letting you get as close to him as you wanted. The next song was slower, perfect to test the waters for once and for all, if he rejected you at least it would be under an appropriate setting.
As if he’d had the same idea, he put his hands on your waist and leaning down to look at you more closely. You decided you’d have some fun with him then, turning around but keeping his hands on your waist. Then the song got to that perfect point you were waiting for and you started grinding painfully slow on him, reaching back to tug at his curls but still not looking at him.
He was going insane, feeling like an animal in heat, his grip on you getting tighter as he decided he wanted control back and guided your movements. His right hand traveled experimentally to your breast, the light fabric of your dress doing virtually nothing to hide the quick pebbling of your nipple due to his ministrations.
You felt his chest rumble with what was most likely laughter, deciding you’d be brave for one last time tonight, you turned to look him in the eyes. He caressed your bottom lip and looked at you with a hunger that mirrored your own. Pulling him down, you finally felt his unexpectedly soft lips, one hand cradled your neck as he deepened the kiss and his tongue intruded in your mouth. You opened your mouth more for him, desperately wanting all of him as you felt his growing hardness poking at your belly.
Lyonel didn’t know how long he’d been kissing you when he started to feel himself harden. Mortified that you’d think he was like a schoolboy during his first time and hoping you hadn’t noticed, he removed himself from you, only to see you look at him like he was all you would ever need, then feeling your hand on his hardening cock.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here. Please, please.” He begged, kissing you quickly once more and pulling you with him when you nodded. He pulled you away with long strides, as you were almost out of the garden, he pointed at another man. “Tarth! I’m leaving, you and Beesbury are in charge.” The man only thumbs up’d and smiled at him.
The walk from the gardens to the actual mansion was painfully long. Or maybe it was taking longer than normal because you and Lyonel were not only stumbling with anticipation, but stopping every so often to continue the sloppiest, overly-interrupted make out session you’d ever had.
He was the instigator here, you were just trying to get inside to an actual horizontal surface but he kept pushing you onto the garden walls and stealing your breath with more kissing and shameless groping.
“Lyonel, please…” You pleaded, struggling to breathe as he kissed your neck, probably leaving marks from how hard he was sucking and biting. “Let’s just- mmm- can we go ins- can we go inside?”
“Gods, you make such pretty sounds, and I’m not even really touching you yet.” He kissed you again, his beard scratching the soft skin around your mouth. “I’ve been fantasizing about this all night. You’re fucking heavenly.”
“I want you to touch me! Please, can we just go inside?” You started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, trying to see if that would convince him.
“So wound up, are you afraid of anyone catching us, my little lightning strike?” He pushed the thin fabric covering one of your breasts to the side, attacking your nipple as he groaned. He was buying time, trying to drive you to the kind of insanity that would incite you to just let him fuck you stupid in the middle of the walkway for all to hear and see. Although he was sure no one would interrupt you two.
“You keep stopping, I feel like we’re never- hmm, gonna get in there and you’re driving me mad!” You answered as you tried your hardest to string words together.
He bit your nipple drawing a hiss from you, then his eyes were back on you, a glint of mischief in them. “I’m so sorry darling, you’re right. It’s unfair of me to do this to you.” His lips found yours once more, you let his tongue massage yours sloppily for a moment until he suddenly pulled away. He brought his index and middle fingers to your bottom lip. “Open. Suck on ‘em for me.”
You did as you were told, looking deeply into his eyes while you swirled your tongue and covered his fingers with your saliva. “There you go, thank you.” His other hand dropped to caress your leg as he bunched up your dress. “I’m thinking I’m gonna put my fingers inside you now, would you like that?” His finger teasing at your clothed core as he waited for your answer.
Maybe you would let him fuck you stupid in the middle of the walkway for all to hear and see after all.
“Yes, please…” You were further squished onto the wall, Lyonel raised your leg a bit and you instinctively wrapped it around him.
“Well, when you ask me so nicely…” He pulled your thong to the side and teased you once more, collecting some of your pooling wetness and bringing it to his mouth. “Fuck… all this time, you’ve been keeping that from me?”
“I keep trying to te-” He plunged his fingers in and started pumping, accomplishing his goal to make you whine for a different reason, looking intently at you for any off signs as you got used to his fingers’ delicious intrusion.
“Yeah, that’s it. Just enjoy it, you deserve it.” It didn’t take him long to find the right angle and pace to make you shake, arching your back off the wall while you gripped his shirt and struggled to find your breath. “You did so well tonight, fuck.” He praised you some more, adding another finger and smiling at the way you were slowly breaking down for him.
Soon you were biting your lip, still in fear of being heard, your hand in his chest pulling him down to a kiss to muffle your moans.
He pulled away just enough to speak, his forehead on yours. “No, no, no, no. Don’t get shy on me now. Let me hear those pretty sounds, I’m doing a good job at earning them, don’t you think?” His fingers were now curling inside you, no longer allowing you to keep quiet as the most desperate moans tore through you, your voice cracking.
Head spinning, you had to anchor yourself somehow and reached for his clothed cock, only half-trying to unbuckle his belt to really touch him, it was only fair you both were falling apart… until he pulled your hand, shaking his head.
“This is about you right now. You think you can give me one, just one? You think you can cum just from my hand?” His palm started rubbing your clit harshly as he continued curling his fingers deliciously and his mouth finally paid attention to your other, neglected nipple. You couldn’t even speak, just kept scratching at his shoulder, whining and moaning uncontrollably as he chuckled darkly at your plight, trying to get you there as soon as possible and seeing that it was working.
“Come on baby, come on. I know you can do it, gods, and I really fucking want you to.” He pinched your nipple with his other hand and whispered in your ear, biting it, his breaths coming out harshly as if he himself was about to bust right there with you.
“I really want you to cum, I need you to cum. I just know you’ll look so beautiful when you come all over my fingers. Let me feel it… Please?” He sounded desperate, as if your orgasm would save him from damnation.
And that did it, suddenly your walls were clamping around his fingers and your orgasm was forcing itself out, ripping through you as your entire body shook and you lost balance. Barely conscious, you heard as the liquid squelched in Lyonel’s hand and he laughed. “Holy shit!” Not giving any signs of stopping anytime soon, happy to continue finger fucking you until the end of time if need be.
Still shaking but now from overstimulation, you noticed how tightly Lyonel was holding you to the wall, he had you, he wouldn’t let you fall. You whined, not even knowing why, the sound just left you.
Lyonel took your whining as you having had enough, and though he really loved how your chest flushed as you gushed on his fingers, he slowed his pace, eventually stopping inside you as he held you with care, kissing your face all over until he reached your neck and left a love bite. “How you doing?” He asked as your breathing started coming back to normal.
“Haven’t cum that hard in a while, I think I need a moment if that’s okay?” Everything was too much, you needed to put yourself together again.
“Of course, do you wanna walk the rest of the way to the stairs and rest there? Only a few steps left.” His lips kissed the top of your head as he relaxed the way he held you, giving you a little more room to breathe.
“I don’t think I can even walk right now, you’re the only thing keeping me upright…” Both your eyes glanced down, seeing he really was the one thing holding you up.
“Okay, let’s do this then. Just lean on the wall for a sec.” He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, but you still complained at the loss, they were quickly becoming your favorite part of his so far.
He picked you up, then, finally taking you the rest of the way out of the gardens and into his home. You normally would’ve objected, but he was carrying you with such ease, as if you weighed nothing, and you were still a bit hazy from the orgasm he so expertly gave you, so you let him take you inside.
You were laid down in a large sofa and waited for him to return as he walked away and into the darkness, you could hear the muffled music still coming from the gardens, thinking of how different your life was a mere half hour ago. Not long after, he returned with more water for the both of you.
“What is it with you and water?” You chuckled, making grabby hands for your bottle.
He pretended to be offended. “Alright, let me tell you something, actually, two things. You ready?”
“Go ahead.”
He drank what little was left of his bottle and sat next to you, pulling you to lean your head on his shoulder, ready to explain.
“Number one: I had spent all night trying to figure out if you were into me, but you had a few glasses of champagne on you by the time we were done back there. I just needed you to sober up a little so I could go for it.”
You covered your face as you laughed.
“AAAND, and…” He said as you smiled, biting your lip and looking at him in fake innocence.
“Number two: you came so hard just now that you squirted on my hand, and from the way you kept acting up until a moment ago, that tells me you had either never done that before or you hadn’t had someone that could make you squirt so much. Which one is the truth isn’t relevant, what is relevant is that it dehydrates a person. Took you a while to come down.”
You were blushing now, feeling a bit embarrassed.
He stood up. “I am merely being a good host…”
He turned his back from you, suddenly feeling shy, as if he didn’t have you screaming in the gardens just a few minutes ago. “That and I still want to fuck you so I’m giving you a bit to recover and decide if you’re not too tired from the amazing orgasm I just pulled from you??”
You were definitely willing, not sleepy at all even though it was probably around 3 am by now.
“I just have one thing… Well, two.”
“What is it?”
“I wanna have something to eat, I’m really hungry. And I really wanna get out of this dress.”
“That can be arranged.” His eyes lit up and he offered you his hand.
The attempt at being quiet as you walked up the stairs made him chuckle, he explained his dad wasn’t home tonight, he never was when Lyonel was hosting one of his parties in the garden. He’d learned he wouldn’t get any sleep the hard way, opting to make a hotel room his home for the 48 hours it took to have the gardens back to normal. You had the whole place for yourselves.
Lyonel didn’t have a room per se, Storm’s End was an old castle and though it had been modernized as time had gone by, its skeleton was still a castle. Lyonel being an only child, had an entire wing to himself, and within it were his apartments. The solar had been turned into a home office for when he just couldn’t be assed to show up to work in person, the walk in closet was interconnected with the bathroom and chambers, which were his room, he explained excitedly, as if he didn’t get many visitors he could talk to about his ancestral home’s inner structure.
“Even though technically all of it is my room, ya know?” He said playfully after he gave you a quick tour of it all, finishing with his walk in closet. “Now, take a look and, uh, pick whatever you like. I’ll go downstairs to get the food, the guy’s almost here. Make yourself at home!”
It felt intimate, how he showed you this little piece of him with such ease, and now he was letting you wear his clothes. Before he left you in there, you’d half-expected for him to take your words as an opportunity to finally remove the dress and get inside you, instead he gave you privacy to change into something else and left to get the 3 am takeout he ordered because you wanted it. It was disorienting, and it made you want him more.
The walk in closet was overwhelmingly full of tailored suits, and you were afraid to take a pressed button up shirt that he’d have to send to the cleaner’s just because of you. But eventually you got to the more leisure-like clothes, you were probably gonna get naked once more today so you opted for a worn out t shirt that was honestly kind of falling apart from all the holes in it. It would give him easy access, and it smelled like him, a scent you were appreciating more and more as the night continued.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Lyonel come into his bedroom, hearing him say that it was dinner time, you stepped out in nothing but your panties and his shirt.
As he turned around he looked at you like it pained him, you immediately freaked out.
“Oh Gods, am I- Is this not okay to wear? I can get something else, I’m sorry.” Your hand found his, trying to calm both of you down and going red in the face at the possibility that you’d overstepped somehow.
He finally snapped out of it, shaking his head and his smile returning. “No, no, no. It’s really okay. I just- I was lost in thought. It looks good, you look good in it.” He reassured you. “Ready to eat?”
Lyonel’s previous relationship had been chaotic from start to finish, there was an inherent distance with his ex, and before her, he had never had an actual relationship. Not that that one had been serious, he hadn’t even brought her back here, ever, but at least they went out in public together and had met each other’s family.
Seeing you in his shirt made him confused, confused good. It confused him that he wanted to keep talking to you, get to know you, see you in his shirt again, make it a regular occurrence. It was so simple, just a pretty girl in her panties and his shirt, about to eat takeout on his bed.
“I’m way overdressed.” He said as he removed his pants, choosing to keep his shirt and boxers on ‘in solidarity with you’ for the duration of the meal. You shamelessly looked at the outline of his cock in his boxers, your mouth watering a little at the thought that you would soon get to see and feel it.
“Hey, no! Bad girl! We are having dinner right now, unbelievable...” Lyonel scolded you in pretend outrage as he sat across from you in his bed, opening the takeout container and handing you a fork.
You laughed, digging into the food. He started the conversation by asking about your music taste and you were off to the races, he remembered that his stereo was usable and eventually had you put on music as you told him why you liked each song specifically and what your favorite part was, and then he did the same.
He got up to get rid of the food container once you both had finished the food, not wanting you to have to do anything when you were under his roof. When he came back he saw you’d gotten comfortable and were splayed out in the bed on your belly, telling him how much fun you were having when he joined you.
Leaning on the headboard, he started caressing your hair while you told him all about how it still felt strange to you to be around wealth and be wealthy yourself. How maybe that was why events like the one tonight threw you off. He couldn’t relate but he listened to you intently, a warm feeling spreading in his chest at the shared vulnerability. He’d shown you his private space, and you’d shared your private thoughts with him, the ones you hadn’t shared with anyone else.
Desire had been laying patiently in your belly for a long time, you were comfortable right now in Lyonel’s bed but you wanted more, and you wanted it now. You needed it now.
He looked so peaceful until you got up and moved over to him, straddling him as he looked with anticipation. He needed you too.
Nothing was said, not yet. He cupped your face in his hands and brought your mouth down to his, kissing you languidly at first, he could take his time now that he had you in his bed. It was a mystery to you how he hadn’t gone crazy yet, he’d been hard on and off tonight and now that he had you he was slowing down. You’d come once already and it had only made you more desperate to have him inside you.
You started moving your hips, grinding on him until his kiss became bruising, teeth clashing and saliva all around your mouth. Then his hand traveled under your shirt to grab your hardening nipple and pinch it as his mouth moved to your neck. He sucked and nipped at the delicate skin there while you got him harder than he’d been in a long time. He lowered his other hand to your ass, squeezing and guiding your movements as he himself started to move.
Lyonel felt like a teenager again, dry humping a girl in the early hours of the morning like his life depended on it and he couldn’t cross the line, it turned him on even more, that you weren’t trying to take his clothes off, or him yours, you just grabbed at each other harshly, and you pulled his hair every time he found an oversensitive spot to bite in your neck. It was as if you both were now in agreement, trying to make the moment last as long as it could, he suspected he wouldn’t last long and he wanted you desperate for him for when he eventually decided to get inside you. You wanted him desperate too, and thinking about it, your pussy clenched at nothing.
“Take this off.” You told him, unbuttoning his shirt and exposing his toned chest completely when you were done, making your mouth water. Your hands caressed the skin, then kissed his collar bone.
He then lifted his shirt of you, sighing in relief at finally seeing both of your breasts completely. “Perfect fucking tits.” He put one in his mouth, biting your pebbled nipple as you moaned and pushed yourself closer to his face, as if that could increase the pleasure brought by his mouth.
You started tugging at his boxers, lifting yourself a little so you could slide them of him. Then you saw it, his big, swollen cock, poking at you immediately after you freed it. Spitting in your hand, you gave it an experimental tug, while Lyonel continued his assault on your tits, switching his mouth to the other one and whispering an apology to it for his neglect.
Stroking him tighter now, with your thumb circling his sensitive tip everytime you got to it, you pulled him by the hair. You needed to see in his face what you were doing to him, gathering saliva in your mouth you looked down and let the spit drool slowly onto his tip, when you looked back at him he groaned, crashing his mouth into yours. Now you could hear his pretty sounds even if they were muffled by the kiss, but not for long, because he broke it so he could breathe, his head leaning on the headboard as he whined for you.
“Please, please, can I be inside you? Please, please I need it.” He opened his eyes, breathing harshly and pleading, his pupils blown out.
You were finding out a lot of things about Lyonel tonight, but one thing you didn’t expect was for the heir of Storm’s End to be so deliciously whiny and responsive, so submissive once you got your hands on him... you’d see how far you could take it.
You caressed his cheek as you stroked his now impossibly hard cock more slowly, looking at him with false pity. “Yeah? You think you deserve it?” You asked with a pout, your tone belittling.
He nodded at you, closing his eyes as he tried not to bust right there and then. “Yes… please.”
“You been a good boy?” You asked as you pulled his hair harshly, making him hiss. “Only good boys get this pussy…” You whispered in his ear, followed by a long lick from his neck all the way back to it so you could bite it.
“I’ve been good, I’ll be good. I can be so, so good for you, please…” He moaned, his face twisting with pleasure at your words and touch.
You lifted yourself a little so you could straddle him properly and pushed your drenched, sorry excuse for underwear to the side, teasing yourself with Lyonel’s member.
“You gonna let me take care of you?” you asked him as he looked back at you, debauched.
“Yeah… please take care of me.” He barely got the words out when you were already lowering yourself on him slowly, wanting to feel every single inch stretching your walls, welcoming him home.
His vision blurred when he finally filled you to the hilt, he whined again, grabbing your ass to stop you from moving and resting his head in the crook of your neck as he shook from how tight you were. He feared he’d cum at the slightest friction, needing a moment to adjust. You stroke his head in the meantime, letting him take all the time he needed so he could be ready for you to have your way with him.
After a moment, his head rose to level with yours, looking at you as he guided your movements with his hands on your ass. You caressed his cheek once more, kissing him languidly as he set the initial pace and you both moaned into the kiss, you let him use you for a while, one of his hands pinching a nipple harshly as he looked for a reaction, and that’s when you decided you’d relinquished control for long enough.
You started moving faster on him, placing your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rode him, you were both louder now, your breaths hitching at the perfect angle repeatedly hitting you in the right place, making you tighten on him constantly. His noises had turned animalistic now as he thrusted upwards to meet you.
“Fuck, ride it. Just like that, ride me baby, you’re gripping me so fucking tight.” He bit your neck with no mercy as he moaned, marking you for the umpteenth time tonight. You could barely breathe, feeling so full and overwhelmed, you wished he could live inside you forever.
He dropped one of his hands between you, rubbing your clit messily. His head clearing for just long enough to let him ask you, “I’m really close, where can I cum?” Shame be damned, you were not gonna let him last if you kept gripping him so tight.
“I’m clean and- fuck, I’m on the pill. Let me feel you...” You answered, moving even faster as your forehead touched his, needing him as close as possible.
He looked like he’d just been granted a miracle, your nails scratching at his strong shoulder as he put just the right amount of pressure on your clit, triggering your orgasm and not long after his, your constricting walls forcing every drop of his hot cum to paint them white as you rode it out.
You both refused to stop moving even as you trembled in each others arms, needing to make the moment last up to the last fucking second.
When you eventually relented, he cupped your face in his hands, one of his thumbs caressing your lips. You looked up to see such longing in his eyes, as if you hadn’t just given him everything, as if he wanted more needed more.
“Stay?” He asked as he flipped you carefully onto your back, keeping himself inside you, not wanting to pull out just yet.
You wrapped your legs around him, happy to keep him warm inside you as he softened.
“Yeah.”
--
He woke up to you still asleep, 4 pm on the clock and a flood of texts asking all kinds of variations of “have you seen this?” followed by a linked article.
He tapped on it and was taken to a picture of you both during the previous night’s auction, accompanied by an article titled “Lightning Strikes The Laughing Storm: Meet The Next Generation Of Yellow Stag”.
The photo had been taken while you were both at the stage, in it he was laughing so hard that his face had gone red, you as well, but you also looked like you belonged there. Up in the stage, next to him, running shit.
He scrolled down after looking at the picture for way too long, feeling giddy. At first it gave background on both of you, focusing on your personal lives briefly, then on the previous night’s events.
“For months we’ve been hearing whispers about the Stormlands’ biggest company making moves into, possibly a new and mysterious market, but Yellow Stag may have more than just one plan cooking up.
Last night we saw a charity event for the ages, it was tasteful, fun, and it raised much more money than the original goal, all for the most underprivileged kids in the Stormlands and Flea Bottom. These may sound like things that influenced each other by luck, but they may have done so by careful design.
Simon Baratheon’s son and Arrec Dondarrion’s daughter have always attended these events, and even though they arrived separately as well as at different times this time as well, last night something shifted: they made their entrance to Durran’s Point Mansion arm in arm, but not before they each gave interviews hinting at some changes at Yellow Stag and that, if last night went well, we could be seeing more of them working together. Once inside the venue they barely left each other’s side, laughing, dancing and constantly whispering in each other’s ears.
Then, the main event: as if it were the beginning of the passing of the torch, they co-hosted the auction perfectly. We don’t know if the flirting is what made it so successful but now we know they can bounce off each other flawlessly and entertain a room full of the richest Stormlanders to spend more money than they had originally planned on.
Sources also tell us they arrived together to Lyonel Baratheon’s after party, eventually disappearing at the same exact time. What could that mean?
The stag may be chasing the lightning, question is: Is it business, or pleasure… or both? There are more ways than one to keep a family business within the family.”
The stupid article was making some stuff up, sure, but maybe the solution to his recent problem was closer than he thought, he could try it. Dating you.
He turned to your peaceful and sleeping form, laying back down as he caressed the soft skin of your back and arms until you woke up, suddenly incredibly aware of your lack of clothing and shy about it; he’d immediately kissed it away and pulled you on top of him,
“Can I take you out?” He bit his lip after he asked and attempted to adjust your wild hair.
“Where?” You rubbed his chest softly, feeling him harden as you got ready for round two.
“Gods, wherever you wanna go.” He pulled you down to his lips.
taglist:
@dear-fifi, @gasstationwishes
Part 5 coming soon
