Lady Matilda

Tilly🗡️She/Her🗡️29F 🗡️Minors DNI 🗡️ The Most Honorable Knight

[ser-matilda]

Fic Masterlist

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Taste, the First Offering

Taste, the First Offering Part Two

Such A Good Girl For Me

Eris Vanserra Headcannons

Soft Eris Vanserra Headcannons Part. 1

Soft Eris Vanserra Headcannons Pt. 2

My Eris Vanserra K!nks/Favorite Things To Do During S!x List!

Eris Vanserra K!nk/Favorite Things During S!x List Pt. 2

Eris and Lucien Stories

Not Quite Fatherly

[winterstellars]

you can tell gwayne and alicent are siblings because the moment things really start going south they employ the Hightower Homo rizz at absolutely diabolical levels. "ser criston my friend my bro do you want to get out of the mud and go hang out at the hightower please say yes" and "omg mysaria don't you HATE it when our on again off again top ditches you for daemon targaryen #beenthere" + flashing their big sad eyes... pack it up right now

[baelcrtargaryen]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 2.04 | 3.05

[cosmictheo]

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | gwayne hightower

| gif credits: @baelcrtargaryen |

— summary: no matter how far duty takes him, gwayne always finds himself crawling back to you. — pairing: gwayne hightower x targaryen!female!reader — word count: ~1.7k — content: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, afab!reader, established marriage/relationship, mutual pining, possessive language, he whimpers and cries, praise kink, body worship, gentle dominance, sub!gwayne, he is so pathetic for reader, happy ending.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

“You believe I ought to let you go, hm?” you ask breathlessly, your hands hooked securely around his neck, your unforgiving hips bringing flashes of pleasure throughout his entire boneless body.

Neither of you have any knowledge of how long you’ve been there, nor how many times you’ve peaked. The evidence of your orgasm now making a sticky mess between your legs and spraying his thighs, creating a wet sound that’s nearly lewd each time you lower yourself all the way down onto his cock and bottom out, sitting all pretty on his lap.

A goddess hovering above him, mighty and glorious. And there he remains, but a servant at her mercy.

Gwayne is lost in the haze of your body and your cunt and the way you're making him feel—so lightheaded that he can hardly even comprehend your words. Though he does, for he was made to listen to you, to answer to you, to obey you, to receive whatever you choose to bestow upon him. 

“N-no,” he babbles his reply, his lovely lips—all wet with sweat and his own spit—tracing a trail of sloppy kisses down your throat. His lean arms lock your body tight against him in an unavoidable cage, his hands molding to the outline of your hips and guiding you up and down on top of him, to ride him like a savage. “Never let me go, my love. I could not bear to be away from you any longer—hmm!—”

The dirt clinging to him, the fine dust of the trail ground into his skin, the smudges of earth dried against his jawline, temple and cheekbones from days of relentless travel, doesn’t diminish him. It fucking heightens him. Every sweat-streaked trace of soil on his flushed face and along the tense line of his neck only serves as a raw, tangible marker of how far he had pushed himself in the last days, how tirelessly he journeyed... just to reach you.

Seeing him like this; weary, filthy, and thoroughly pathetic, ignites something fierce and primal deep within you. It makes your blood run hotter, turning every harsh, heavy bounce of your hips into a claim over every inch of him.

“And what did you do all this time we’ve been apart?” you question him in a remarkably steady voice, considering just how utterly overwhelmed he's making you feel, tugging sharply at his reddish hair to force him off your neck so you can look him straight in the eye. “How many whores were you with while I was gone, husband?”

The sight of him—your sweet, perfect knight—now reduced to a ruined mess begging for your mercy, makes your insides clench even tighter. Your cunt pulses around the length of his hard cock, impossibly tight, sucking him deep inside, so deep that his swollen tip bumps up against that one special little spot inside you that lights up stars everywhere you look.

It’s a remarkable circumstance, that you two have withstood all these months away from each other. The only thing that could ever separate you would be death or war, and war has fallen in between you, unfortunately locking you into opposing sides. Your birth name and your dragon are what, months ago, dragged you away from the peace of Oldtown and back to Dragonstone, where you were summoned to take on an important role alongside your mother Rhaenyra, the true heir to the Iron Throne.

And Gwayne, by his family name, had to follow his sister's orders and swear allegiance to the Usurper.

Your husband shakes his head in despair, whimpers slipping from his half–open lips, and big tears welling up in the corners of his beautiful eyes, blue and sparkly like a sky full of stars. “N–none, my Princess. I could never be with anyone else.”

You know it’s true, and that someone like Gwayne—your Gwayne—could never even consider being with anyone other than you; he could never possibly betray you. His own values as the most righteous and honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms forbid it, and most importantly, he is simply much too in love with you to view anyone else with the kind of gaze that is only reserved for you.

His body belongs to you; his soul, heart, and mind are yours.

“No?” nevertheless, you question through a low whisper, taking full advantage of the fact that you’re performing a slow circular motion down his lap so you can lean toward him and kiss his lips. He moans into your mouth, making you breathe him in, his thrill, his pleasure, his appreciation.

The very moment your dear husband spotted the ominous silhouette of your dragon swooping down from the cloudy sky and onto him and Criston’s futile little army, he knew it was all over. He had endured so much over the past few moons, forced to follow that foolish man around. It was absurd—what other choice did they have? Nothing but to beg for the dragon’s mercy.

Fortunately for him, it was you who descended from the clouds, for if it had been anyone else, he would be as dead as Cole.

He keeps whimpering as your hips rise again, your velvety walls wrapping all around his cock, making him twitch inside you, as your tongue runs passionately along his cheekbone, wiping away the tears that have dampened his freckled, flushed skin.

“No one takes me the way you do, my beloved,” he claims, kissing your lips to seal it like a promise. He kisses you again and again before continuing to whisper sweet things to you. “No one feels like you—so tight and perfect. I—fuck—I am yours.”

He pulls you down hard against him, his hips snapping upward to meet your descent with an ungodly, wet slap that knocks the breath clean from your lungs. The tip of his cock buries itself ruthlessly against that exquisite, agonizing spot inside you, making the world behind your eyelids fracture into brilliant bursts of gold and white, of him, his soul.

“Yours,” he repeats, a broken, desperate prayer against the seam of your lips. His slender fingers dig brutally into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving bruises that will surely bloom tomorrow. “Always yours. Slice open my chest, my love... look inside, feel it... there is no room for a King or a crown or a throne. Only you. Only my wife, my sweet wife.”

Gwayne locks his arms around your waist and shifts his weight, rolling you both over in one fluid, breathless movement. In an instant, the tent spins, and he settles above you, his heavy, warm body pressing you back into the wrinkled bed and thrusting his hips into you.

He looks down at you through a veil of disheveled, reddish hair, his sky–blue eyes dark with emotion and body utterly undone by yours.

“G–gwayne...” you moan out his name, your hands moving up to the broad curve of his shoulder blades, your fingers digging into his freckled skin as he frames your face with trembling hands. “My dearest”

“Yours,” he pledges, the words rolling off his tongue and onto your lips like a prayer and he kisses you again, and again. “Let me give you everything. Take it all—all of me.”

He sets a relentless, desperate pace, driving both of you straight past the edge. Your back arches into him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as the tension builds to an agonizing, exquisite peak.

When the wave finally breaks, it crashes over both of you at once—a blinding, overwhelming release that leaves you clinging to one another, gasping for air and crying each other’s names as your heartbeats clash against each other’s chests in tandem.

Gushes of his seed warm your insides, coating your walls in his color and laying claim to your womb.

The feeling is so familiar, the way he fills you right to the brim, so much that trickles overflow out the edges of your throbbing, abused cunt.

“Gods above...” Your lover sighs weakly against your collarbone, leaving a wet trail of saliva on your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

You stroke the soft, auburn hair at the nape of his neck, breathing in the scent of rain, leather, and him.

Your fingers trace appreciatively the familiar curve of his back as your chest heaves in time with his, the wet warmth between your thighs a quiet, lingering mark of the love he just poured into you.

“Gwayne,” you call out to him softly into the dark, your voice cutting through the heavy silence of the tent.

He shifts slightly, pressing a tender kiss onto the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. “I'm here, my love. I'm right here.”

You cup his beautiful face in your hands, forcing him to lift his head so you can look straight into those clear, desperate blue eyes. The tears have dried on his cheeks, but the vulnerability in his gaze is raw and absolute.

“Then come with me,” you say, the command laced with a quiet, pleading ache that makes his breath catch in his throat. “Leave all of this behind tonight. Fly with me to King’s Landing and bend the knee to my mother; she will grant you mercy and forgiveness.”

Gwayne freezes, his chest resting heavily against yours as the weight of your words sinks in.

“My love...” he begins, his voice thick with an ache so profound, for love and for you. He presses his forehead against yours, his warm, uneven breath fanning over your lips. “Would that truly make you happy? Is this what you need from me?”

“It is what I desire above all else in this world,” you answer without hesitation, your voice trembling with the full weight of your devotion. You kiss him tenderly, tasting the salt on his skin. “I want you by my side, Gwayne. I want you, alive, safe, and mine. I need you with me.”

A shaky, shuddering breath escapes his chest, and a brilliant, tearful smile bleeds across his flushed face.

“Then it is done,” Gwayne breathes out, capturing your mouth in a kiss that tastes like sweet relief and irreversible surrender. He pulls your body flush against his, resting his weight over you one more time. “Take me with you, my Princess. Where you fly, I shall follow.”

[pinkdoeweirdo]

Gwayne holding back tears in Episode 5— 😫💔#someoneSaveHim

I dare say pookie cries when he's overstimulated

pookie does… and with this you activated a blurb, dear anon🙂‍↕️

۶ৎ cw: mdni 18+ overstimulation handjob established relationship

the bead of sweat trails down his temple and disappears under his chin, at the crook of his neck. his head falls back against the pillows, exposing the pale column of his throat, ginger hair plastered to his slick forehead.

“yes, just like that, you can handle one more, don’t you?” you coo into his ear, lips touching the salty skin, as you trail kisses up his chin, hand stroking his hard needing cock.

gwayne mewled something incomprehensible in response, boneless, nothing more than a slave to the sensations. a broken, pathetic whimper escaped his lips as your palm wrapped around his shaft again, green eyes blown wide, glassy with tears that spilled over his freckled cheeks from sheer pleasure.

“darling— please.” he gasped, though what was he begging for, even he didn't know. his hips gave an involuntary jerk upward, seeking friction despite the hypersensitivity. every touch feeling like a raw scratch on his nerves.

"i can't " gwayne mewled, voice cracking as he arched his back, pressing himself into your hand. his fingers tangling uselessly in the silk sheets, knuckles white. “i— ngah— gods.”

“such a good boy…” you murmured, feeling his cock throb at the praise. your thumb circled the tip with every firm stroke. “yes, you are.”

his hips twitched, craving release despite his exhaustion. the praise landed in his brain like hot honey, melting away every thought except you and your sweet sweet touch. the kiss you gave his bitten lips made him purr, feeding into the agonising, addictive need to please you.

"i am— ah— i am yours," gwayne choked out between ragged breaths, as your hand sped up, fisting his shaft deliciously. his green eyes fluttered open, crimson rimmed and unfocused, searching for your face through the haze of the mad pleasure. gwayne looked utterly wrecked, skin flushed, sweat making his body glisten under the candlelight.

“my beautiful boy.” you murmured, giving his cock a light squeeze and he lost it. gwayne gripped the sheets, moaning your name obscenely, releasing hot ropes of seed, body trembling with bliss and exhaustion. for a moment he just laid there, tear strikes on his cheeks, eyes half lidded, almost glassy.

“are you alright, darling?” you ask him, shifting closer, thumb catching a drop of wetness under his eye. gwayne nods and smiles weakly, hands finding your waist, urging you closer to him, as he curls up, face pressed to your chest, inhaling deeply.

“yes, my love. more than alright. heavenly.”

getting freaky to forget the horrors

۶ৎ taglist: @userhotd @rottenbites @silkaurum @lustedbby @alaeratrrn @luvweezer @demodemigodness12 @mademoisellepetite @koolblackberry @starr-jazz

[ser-matilda]

Computah..show me Eris Vanserra whimpering and moaning audios…computah show me.

[pious-septa]

Computah show me Gwayne Hightower Crying

Thank you computah

[nastyhotd]

#218

[ser-matilda]

How much money could I pay Matthew Basset to do a whimpering and moaning ASMR video as Eris?

Asking for a friend.

[ser-matilda]

First week back to college lowkey kicked my ass, and I’m sorry I haven’t been very active but I’m happy to report that the outline for the dragon-hybrid Eris fic is DONE and I will have the full fic written and posted either late tonight or tomorrow afternoon.

- Tilly

[welightthewaysource]

House Of The Dragon season 3 (2026)

[wulfhalls]

DAERON TARGARYEN and ORMUND HIGHTOWER in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

[alicenthightcwer]

some gwayne hightower jaw clench™ for @sansaorgana 💞

[ser-matilda]

The dragon hybrid Eris fic probably won’t drop until this Saturday. I’ve started school again, and I obviously want my schoolwork to take priority but I also still want to be an Eris devotee and share my fic ideas with you all.

I am thinking of maybe switching the polls and the fic drops to every two weeks instead of every week, if that is ok with you all.

Thank you for understanding.

-Tilly

[tinky-dinky]

Of course they’ve made Ormund Hightower an asshole too. Of course. We cannot possibly have anyone on the Green side who isn’t an asshole. Unless it’s Helaena or Daeron, but they’re infantised little wimps, so it’s okay.

It makes me wonder what they’ll do to Gwayne. He’s supposed to be dead by now, and he’s a Green, and yet he doesn’t seem to be an asshole.

[wulfhalls]

ok u had me at uncle kingmaker questionable power dynamic

[ser-matilda]

Ok so we know in book cannon that Winter and Summer Court was held UTM essentially since the beginning of Amarantha’s reign, and that the other courts were basically summoned to her whenever she felt like.

We know Autumn was one of those courts.

I headcannon that Amarantha specifically liked to fuck with Beron, you know, wound his masculinity by summoning Beron and the family to UTM for like two weeks at a time.

Give them the Luigi’s Haunted Mansion treatment.

And then send them back home for 6 months until she randomly decides she wants to do it again.

A visual representation of what Beron would have experienced UTM.