Game Of Thrones (Reader Insert One-shots)

Willas Tyrell

[To those of you who are not familiar with the book: Willas is the eldest son of Mace Tyrell, brother to Garlan, Loras and Margaery, heir to Highgarden. Willas is crippled with a bad leg. He is often noted as studious, educated, and kind, and is renowned for breeding the finest hawks, hounds, and horses in the Seven Kingdoms. Also, I hate to disappoint any fans of Loras, but in my story he is straight.]

You laughed when Ser Loras - the brother of your betrothed, Willas - asked you to dance with him. That night was sweet Margaery's name day and everyone in Highgarden feasted and celebrated. It had already become dark, but the night was warm and filled with the heavy scent of flowers. You wore a(n) (favorite/color) flowing silk dress that night, made specifically for the occasion. Any man who saw you could not take their eyes off you. It was said in Highgarden that your beauty matched even Margaery's. However, you did not believe such talk and thought the reason behind it was the fact that your sister - as she liked to call you - was simply not of age yet. After all, you were a grown woman and 17 years old.

"My lady (Y/n)," said the charming Loras, "will you honor me with a dance?"

You just laughed it off and took his extended hand. "Why of course, Ser Loras. I wouldn't want to dishonor you."

He led you away from your seat and the two of you begun to dance to the sweet swirling music. As you spun around and laughed and jested with Loras, a pair of eyes watched you curiously and sadly. Willas watched his young brother move in sync with you. He really is good at dancing. Willas thought and sighed, taking a sip of his summerwine. I wish I could... No, I shouldn't even think about it. I'll never be as good as him. Why did I even think my stupid books or hawks would make her fall in love with me?  Gods, I can't even walk without a stick. (Y/n) will soon be my wife, but she'll never be able to love me. And I'll continue to live in the shade of my brother's greatness.

Willas's glumness grew with every second. He watched you twirl, he watched your long (hair/color) hair fly in the gentle breeze, he watched your beautiful (eye/color) eyes twinkle in the dark. He couldn't deny your beauty and his luck. When Willas had thought about marriage, he'd always imagined an ordinary and dull noble bride he'd have to wed and bed out of duty to secure the line and after all of these unpleasant necessities, he'd live his life just like he did so far - isolated from the world. Only he never considered you. He never thought he could love anyone, let alone his own wife. And if we want to be utterly truthful, we have to admit that he fell hard for you the very moment he first laid eyes upon your lovely face. After your arrival, however, he soon learned the other side of love as well: Besides the ethereal and heavenly one he experienced the first couple of weeks, there was the greedy and bewitching one, full of wanton desire. Willas soon found the necklines of your dresses too low, the sleeves too revealing, your swept-up hair showing too much skin of your pale neck. It wasn't your fault really, he couldn't blame you for following the trend of the South. And he found you particularly lovely in those silk dresses of yours, only he disliked the way other men would inspect you, trying hard to see through all those layers of fabric.

Willas slowly rose to his feet, grabbed his walking stick and threw you one last look. He smiled because he simply couldn't stand watching you laugh without wearing a smile himself. He bid good night to the passing lords, kissed her little sister on top of her head and started to make his way to his bedchamber. As he walked in the gardens, he listened to the faint music in the distance. Until he heard someone panting and running through the garden, calling his name.

"Willas? My lord?" you said and looked around in the dark.

"I'm here, (Y/n). And I'm not a lord. Well, not yet anyways." he replied quietly. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," you said, catching your breath, "I saw you leave. I just wanted to know if everything was alright."

Willas tried to steel his features, but a smile crept on his face. "Oh, yes, quite alright. It's only that dancing isn't really my thing."

Suddenly, you closed the distance between the two of you and placed your hand on the back of his neck. Your lips crashed into his and for a moment Willas did not know what to do. He soon recovered from his shock though and answered your pleading kisses with his own. When you pulled away, he still held you in his arms lovingly.

"Then what's your thing, Willas?" you asked sweetly.

"You." he said and kissed your forehead.

~Author's note~

Hey guys,

What's up with you? :3

How did you like this Willas fluff? I particularly enjoyed writing about him and Highgarden in general.

Make sure to vote and comment! ❤

Again, let me remind you that requests are open. So if you want me to write about something, message me or leave a comment. :)

Thanks for reading.

Xx