#my young royals fic

[kisstheloststars]

special spinoff episode where we see the quartet on a road trip together, painting each other's nails, getting matching tattoos, and being free

[phneltwrites]

Heyyyy so anyone want some canon divergence wilmon exes fake dating? They're very dramatic about it.

Land Between Our Bodies | rated T | probably ~50k

Chapter 1 here on ao3!

Snip:

Simon holds up his phone on his notes app. He’s been brainstorming. It reads: Hi, Wilhelm. Sorry to message you but I’m having a situation at school with some bullies that I could use your help with. I get if you don’t want to. Thanks.

“Wow, no emoji. So businesslike.” Rosh is so mean to him.

Simon groans. “It’s really hard! What am I supposed to say? Hey, remember how we had one last night together and we said goodbye and I never gave you a birthday present and then the school closed? Well. Can you pretend the breaking up part didn’t happen to get some assholes off my back?”

“Maybe the difficulty of writing the message should clue you in to the badness of the plan,” Rosh argues.

[wilhelmified]

i adore wilhelm and felice's best friendism, but I would've LOVED for wilhelm×felice×madison to become a trio, much like simon has ayub and rosh. I think they'd have a very funny and amusing dynamic and I feel so bitter that we never got to see much of it

[gulliblelemon]

Simon and Wille have... an arrangement. They don't have to like each other, they don't even have to really talk to each other; they can just take what they need and then carry on as if they've not just had their hands in each other's pants. But then something happens that throws their delicate agreement out of the window, and they're left having to figure out what they are to each other. Enemies? Indifferent colleges? Friends? Or... something else?

Read now on AO3 (T rated, 9.8k/29k)

[thingsthatcometomymindwheniwrite]

father forgive me for the type of fictional characters I say “he just like me fr” about

[dreamyelectronicmusic]

Sabotage

“I see the way you look at him,” a voice startles Wille out of his reverie, “when you think he can’t see you.”

He glances over his shoulder at the man joining him in the chilly air on the terrace of Felice’s penthouse. The sounds of the party going on inside the apartment waft in through the narrow gap in the sliding door. Perhaps Wille should feel caught out or embarrassed, but he can’t be bothered. He turns back to face the Stockholm skyline.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean for you to see that either.”

Simon’s boyfriend steps closer, leans his elbows against the balustrade next to Wille. They stare at the city lights together.

Read more under the cut or on AO3

“You’re still in love with him,” Ben says after a moment, his tone more sympathetic than accusatory. It can’t be easy, Wille supposes, to start dating someone and find out that their ex is still part of their friend group, especially when their relationship had been as public as Wille and Simon’s, but Ben has never treated him with antagonism.

“I’m afraid that once you’ve started, it’s impossible to stop,” he says. The bottle of beer he’s brought with him to the terrace is cold in his hands and long since empty. He picks at the label. “But I think you already know that.” He’s seen the way Ben looks at Simon, too, and he recognises the feeling.

The corner of Ben’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah.” He looks down at his hands, a little bashful and more than a little smitten. “I do.” Good. Simon deserves nothing less than absolute devotion.

Wille takes a deep breath and releases it slowly through his mouth. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he says. “You – you’re so much better for him than I ever was.” The truth of it has long lost its sharp edge. “It’s good to see him happy. I have no intention of getting in the way of that.”

It took him and Simon a long time to get where they are now, to build something resembling a friendship on the charred wasteland left by their relationship. It’s the only good thing Wille has left. He won’t do anything to sabotage it.

The door slides open again. Laughter reaches Wille’s ears, Simon’s pearly giggles easy to pick out. Wille smiles. It’s all worth it, if he gets to hear that sometimes.

“Excuse me,” says Malin. Wille squares his shoulders, knowing his brief respite is over. “We really should get going, Your Majesty.”

[wilmonsfolklore]

Is It New Years Yet?

A fun little strangers-to-lovers speedrun at a new year's eve party. As a treat after a long year that the YR fandom has made infinitely better for me. So, thank you all and here's to more fics next year! <3

When Wille entered the kitchen he stopped dead in his tracks in the door opening. The kitchen was empty except for the boy, the beautiful boy, who was standing at the counter, leaning against it and scrolling on his phone casually. This was Wille’s chance. The best he would get. He took a few breaths and stepped into the kitchen. “Hey,” Wille said. His voice was less steady than he would like. The boy looked up from his phone. It felt like his gaze was radiating heat that went directly to Wille’s cheeks. “I’m Wille,” Wille continued anyway.

or: Wille and Simon are both bored at a party on New Year's Eve but they find each other, and spend the hour before midnight together

Read it here! :)

[hergrandplan]

Wilmon + "I can sleep on the couch tonight"

Hi anon! sorry this is so late, I hope you'll still see this somehow <3 I've been having a bit of a writer's block for a few weeks, but this particular story would not let me go, and it was actually really helpful in beating the brain demons. I hope you'll enjoy it 💜 (fair warning it's 1k words idk what happened here)

“I can sleep on the couch tonight,” Wille announces once the movie credits start rolling. He gets up from under Simon and from the couch, then stretches, shirt lifting up to show a sliver of alabaster skin that Simon wants to feel, to touch, to experience.

And maybe he would have, if he wasn’t so stunned about Wille’s announcement, given Simon has spent the better part of the evening cuddled up on said couch with Wille, lying in his arms as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, as if they hadn’t met mere hours before.

Simon tries to swallow his disappointment down. “Oh,” he says, mouth quirking up into a smile that feels so fake that he’s sure even the people at home will be able to tell. “That’s sweet of you.”

He’s usually better about getting his hopes up. He had thought that, especially for a TV show like this one, two strangers being locked in the same house for the entire weekend, he would have been more on guard. More careful about getting close to Wille, given all of Sweden was watching. But that was the entire point of the show, wasn’t it? To see if two strangers could fall in love within just a few days.

And they’ve known each other for even less than a day, so Simon really shouldn’t have expected Wille to want to share the bed with him. He definitely shouldn’t have hoped for it. And yet, here he is – hopes absolutely squandered.

Had Simon just misread everything up until this point? Is Wille simply not interested in him like that? Simon had been sure that something had been building up between them. They'd hit it off right from the moment Wille had walked in the door. Simon had been a bit nervous, and he suspected Wille had been too, but his radiant, carefree smile had been enough to calm Simon’s nerves. They've done nothing but talk and laugh for the past few hours, getting to know each other, and Simon had loved every minute of it. It didn't feel forced, even though it should have, or fake, even though they were on TV – it had just felt natural. And when they'd put on the movie, and Wille had opened his arms, an invitation for Simon to fall into them, Simon hadn't even thought twice, had let himself be held. Not at any point did he feel uncomfortable, or like he shouldn’t be doing this – like even their bodies fit together.

Once or twice during the movie he had even imagined leaning up a bit, wondering what it'd be like to kiss Wille, what his lips would feel like. 

But maybe all of Wille's touches, the hand he placed on Simon's arm for a second while they were cooking, jostling against him when they were doing the dishes after dinner, staying really close to Simon the whole while and the playful giggle Wille let out when Simon had splashed him — maybe it had all been friendly for Wille. 

An uncomfortable feeling settles in Simon’s stomach as he watches Wille clean up their mess, bring the cups and empty popcorn bowl to the kitchen – their kitchen, at least for the next 30 hours. It was the ease with which Wille shifted out from under him, that maybe hurt more than Wille saying he’ll sleep on the couch.

Simon’s not normally the guy to fall this fast. He hadn’t really expected anything to come out of joining this programme other than maybe finding a friend, but Wille had been so warm, and welcoming, and funny that it had just happened. And now, more than anything, he wished they’d met under normal circumstances, no cameras to see what they were doing.

“Are you okay?” Wille asks, when the table has been cleared, the dishwasher running.

Simon blinks up, back to reality, back to Wille, who has sat down next to him again. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lies. He can’t say the truth, that he’s weirdly upset about Wille not wanting to share the bed with him. He’s sure people would make a meme out of him, his face plastered on every Swedish channel as yet another desperate guy.

Wille looks at Simon for a moment, a look on his face that Simon can’t quite decipher before his gaze softens. Then he does something that makes Simon’s heart burst in his chest, just a little: as if he has read Simon’s mind, he covers his mic with his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he says so softly that even Simon’s mic won’t be able to pick it up, only Simon himself.

“I had …” Simon starts, not sure how to continue. If it had been just him and Wille, he’d have asked him to come to bed with him in a heartbeat. Would probably have done more than they would do tonight, because he’s not doing any of that with the camera’s surrounding them, but he still would like to fall asleep next to him, maybe in his arms.

Simon covers his own mic to give himself a semblance of security, but he still feels too seen, too vulnerable, so when he speaks, he looks down to where Wille’s leg almost touches his. “I had kind of been hoping you maybe wanted to share the bed… tonight. But if you don’t want to that’s of course totally okay you know, no ha-”

“Simon.” Wille stops Simon’s rambling with a hand on his thigh. Simon looks up, just in time to see how Wille’s face completely lights up with a smile, almost relieved, and even the room around them feels brighter all of a sudden. “I’d like nothing more.”

There’s a twinkle in Wille’s eyes. It’s nothing sexual, nothing that conveys anything but pure joy, and Simon already can’t wait to find out what else will make that twinkle appear, hoping to see it so much more often in the future. Maybe if there weren’t any cameras around, this would have been the moment Simon would have leaned in and kissed him, but he’s not sure if he wants all of Sweden to see that. Still, smiling, Simon takes Wille’s hand and leads him to the bedroom.

Send me 'wilmon' + a sentence and get a ficlet!

[groenendaelfic]

One day Simon will start uni*, only to realize that he's surrounded by people who think HE is the posh, privileged kid with no clue how the real world works, and that day will be hilariously glorious.

* or be conscripted—super unlikely, but a fic writer can dream

[phneltwrites]

New fic! Ch 1

Sliding Doors Goodbye | Wilmon | 35k | Rated E

Wilhelm wakes up. It's the anniversary of his brother's death. Again.

A time loop fic.

link

[enjoythesilentworld]

💜 wilmon + #78 💜

hiiii thank you so much!! here’s a lil dancey one for you :) <3

#78 Addicted – Zerb, The Chainsmokers, Ink

The answer should be ‘No’. They both know it. Wilhelm shouldn’t even be asking in the first place.

But he is.

“Do you want to dance?”

Simon eyes him over. Pretending. Like he’s surprised to see Wilhelm here.

“Okay,” he says eventually, grinning, already moving towards the dancefloor, towards the rolling, anonymous bodies.

“Okay,” Wille echoes, letting his hands settle on Simon’s waist now that he has… permission. Because that’s what this requires now, in this weird time loop they’re in. Permission.

“This changes nothing,” Simon tells him, even as they grind up against each other, even as he licks the sweat off Wille’s neck and presses bruises into his skin.

Wille parrots again, “Nothing,” because he’ll do whatever, say whatever, to keep them on the dancefloor a little longer.

It’s fucking delicious. As addictive as always. Simon’s hands, his lips, his smell. The way he moves against Wille, the way they both get swept up in the music—in each other—and forget the rest. The way they’re both panting and sweating and licking into each other’s mouths, Simon tasting like lime and salt and sweetness. Wille soaks it all up. A man in the desert. Two addicts fresh out of rehab and right back to their drug of choice.

Simon rolls forward again, lips barely separating from Wille’s to whisper, “Just one more time.”

Breathless, Wille nods, “One more time.”

send a number get a drabble(ish)!

[gulliblelemon]

Like That

“What happened last Friday…” Simon feels Wille tense beside him. “It was— I just—“

“Maybe we could do that again.” 

Wille has gone pink with his outburst. Simon watches the blush disappear into his collar. Swallowing, Simon nods, trying to bite down his smile.

— 

Later, they lie tangled in Wille’s bed; content, giddy and a little bashful.

“I wondered if you would shut me down,” Simon says, vulnerable in his happiness. “Say you weren’t like that.”

“Oh, I’m definitely like that.”

Simon giggles. “I can see.” He takes a breath. “But maybe we should try again. Just to be sure.”

Thanks, @youngroyals-events!

[justfriendsbestthings]

they’re boyfriends you know

[skibasyndrome]

🎃 Simon's kinktober fic masterpost 🍁

Soooo... since, despite all the factors slowing me down, I plan on pushing through with doing all the prompts I thought I should make a post to keep track of everything in one place

Day 1: Sit back and watch (I'm gonna dance for you) (masturbation & spit) “Have you never thought about it?” he asks, and Simon is about to chide him for avoiding a question with a follow-up-question, but Wille is pushing on.“I’m just curious,” he says, pointedly casual about it (Simon doesn’t buy it, Wille seldom feels ‘just’ anything, he’s a thinker, that man, sometimes to a fault). “I’ve never seen you do it.” And, as if he’s sensing the protest that’s about to come out of Simon’s mouth: “Without me fucking you, I mean.”

Day 2: Sharpen your teeth, sink into me (marks & biting) “Please,” is all he can muster, eyes squeezed shut against the threat of tears, of overwhelm, of having everything he tried to hold in come spilling out. Not now, he thinks, not yet. He needs more, needs Simon’s mouth and hands and body to coax the raw emotion out of him. Needs to feel it all before he can truly let go. Fingers digging into the skin of Simon’s back, into the straining muscles of his shoulder blades, he swallows again, forces his voice to form the words, broken fragments scattered for Simon to put back together. “Simon,” he breathes. ”Need you, please.”

Day 3: In silence, I'm yours (sound/staying quiet, hands & 69) “Shit,” he whispers, moves to pull away, but is stopped. Simon’s fingers quickly wrap around his wrist, keep it in place, keep it right there, right where it’s firmly pressed over Simon’s mouth. Wille just looks at his palm, then into Simon’s eyes. They’re wide, staring back up at Wille, glinting dangerously. And, for a moment, neither of them moves. It’s Simon who makes the first move, who now, after all, tugs Wille’s palm away from his face. His eyes are still intently boring into Wille’s and, god, Wille feels himself twitch inside of Simon at the sudden charge of the air around them. “Wanna try to make me?” Simon whispers, almost breathless now.

Day 4: Love the shape of your mouth (and the back of your head) (makeup, praise kink, oral sex, deepthroating and light dacryphilia) “You can’t keep saying that,” is all she says as she drops her head down and onto Simon’s stomach. He hears her let out a frustrated little noise into the fabric of his dress shirt, and he laughs, pointedly ignoring the way her proximity to his crotch is making him feel.She's laughing, too, that same carefree laugh that Simon’s been thinking about all evening. He puts a hand on the back of her head, stroking over her hair for a moment.“I mean it, though, Wille” he says, because he’s not going to let her deflect again. “You look stunning.”

Day 5: I've never met arms like yours (cockwarming & spooning) “You're hard,” Simon mumbles into Wille's forearm. Wille lets out a small laugh. “Yeah,” he admits apologetically, kissing the mole on the back of Simon's neck. A little begrudgingly, he removes his other arm from around Simon's middle to get it between them, so he can rearrange himself in his sweatpants. “Sorry.” But Simon's hand shoots up, keeping Wille's arm around him in place. “It's fine,” Simon says, then wiggles backwards a little until Wille is firmly lodged between Simon's body and the back of the couch. “Feels nice,” Simon hums and leans into him some more, pressing his ass against Wille’s erection.

Day 6: And the mirrors gon' fog tonight (mirror, hands, a little bit of praise) “Is this-,” Wille’s voice is hoarse, deep, sounds like he’s overcome with something that Simon can’t place. “Is this okay?” Simon only nods, meeting his eyes through the mirror, feeling a pang to his groin at the way he is forced to look up at him from this position. There’s a noticeable shift in Wille, his shoulders seem to get less tense, he seems to stop straining his neck quite as much. “Yeah?” is what Wille pushes out. Then, clearing his throat: “Do you like this?”

Day 7: One, two, three (Not only you and me) (threesome, first time [having a threesome], lapdance) And, so, Wille finds himself exactly where Nils promised he could relax for once, have a good time, calm down after all that stress of the past few months or maybe years. As it happens, that promised space of escapism has quickly shrunk down to a small seat, in the booth with Simon. Simon who was excited to find two fellow Swedes in a random Swiss town, who's in Verbier because his sister's friend invited the two of them to her family's holiday chalet, who's here, specifically, because he didn't want to intrude on girls’ night and because they don't have these kinds of parties in his hometown. And because he doesn’t really go to them in Stockholm, either, where he's currently studying at university. Simon who's got the prettiest head of curls Wille has ever seen, and the funniest laugh and whose lips look so pillowy and soft that - not that he'd admit it - it hit him like a punch to the gut to watch Nils kiss them on the dance floor a few minutes ago. Wille goes to Verbier with his friend Nils. They end up meeting Simon at a party.

Day 8: Body language say you wanna (semi-public sex, cruising, roleplay) “What’s your name anyways,” Wille mumbles, mouthing his way back up to the guy’s ear while he lets his hand reach out and wrap around his hard length. Wille wonders if he got him to this point or if the other guy had anything to do with it. Wille sincerely hopes this is all his doing. The man gasps, then lets out a short laugh. “Does it matter?” he asks, and Wille bites his earlobe. “You tell me,” Wille whispers back, overtaken by a new kind of fervor, now that he’s got the man in front of him like this, naked, needy, hard. He jerks his fist over him a couple times, reveling in the way his breathing picks up, in the way he bucks into his hand. “Do you want me to use it when I fuck you?” he adds, stepping closer, trying to open his own pants with one hand while applying more pressure to the other man’s cock.

Day 9: On the tip of my tongue, on the top of your thighs (1/2) (wax play, thighs, marks) “Are you okay? Does it still feel good?” He asks, instead of letting the emotion take over. He trails his fingers up along the outside of Wille’s thigh, relishing in the way he jumps a little. When he looks up again, he sees Wille nodding, head rustling the linen it’s resting on top of. Simon waits, drawing small circles into the outside of Wille’s thigh. He knows this can’t be easy, feels a little out of it himself and he’s not even the one lying there. After another moment, he hears Wille clear his throat. “So good,” he pushes out, breathless, a little hoarse, sounding stunningly overwhelmed. Warmth spreads inside of Simon’s chest.

Day 10: And if I searched a thousand miles I'd be dying to find (2/2) (intercrural sex, thighs, marks, oral sex) If that’s okay, Simon thinks and is a little too overrun with lust to laugh, but he definitely scoffs at the ridiculous notion that it wouldn’t be okay, that he’d be anything but absolutely fucking enthusiastic to fuck Wille any way he wants. And he should tell him, really, let him know that anything he could ever want they can talk about and Simon will be really fucking glad to try with him. Instead though, he postpones that, for later, after, when he’s not busy trying to keep a remnant of a rational thought in his mind at the view in front of him, of Wille lying, waiting for him, beautiful and breathing heavily and, fuck, grinding his hips against the mattress in tiny movements.

Day 11: My skin on your skin, again and again (frottage, cum play, fingers) So, technically, it would be more than a little unwise to have sex in these conditions. But Simon’s never been known to make smart choices, has always had a knack for impulsive decisions. So of course he’s perched on top of his friend now, of course he’s rutting his cock against Wille’s, skin gliding together easily with sweat and spit and whatever else. Of course he’s got his hand wrapped around both of them, trying to keep up a steady rhythm, trying to make this good for them, while Wille is being difficult in this stupidly perfect way of his.

Day 12: In the back of your car there's a big black mark (where I ripped the seat) (car sex, riding, a little breathplay/choking) They have their first little talk of the evening with Simon on one side of the buffet table, Wille on the other, sweet fucking irony, Wille thinks, remembering itchy wigs and poofy pants and the most beautiful song he’s heard in his life, to date. They chat, crack a joke here and there, laugh, even. Settle back into a pattern that feels so eerily familiar, so nostalgic, so unreal. Because how can it be like this, how can they go back to who they were those years ago, how can it feel so effortless? Wille spends the rest of the evening on a cloud, untethered, floating, feeling light and ungrounded. Feeling like, at once, everything he’s been missing is coming back to him, overwhelming, but in the best way. And he is surprised, yeah, but also not at all, when they first crash into each other in the hallway. Because it feels like this is what they’ve been tiptoeing around all evening, this is what his entire body knew had to happen.

Day 13: Find a brand new way of seeing (Your eyes forever glued to mine) (1/2) (edging, toys, blindfolds) Everything is dark, and yet Wille feels like the white-hot sparks shooting up his spine are streaking his vision. He lets out a pathetic sound when Simon speeds up the movement of his hand yet again, only to stop all at once. This is worse than Wille imagined, so much worse. And he loves it. Every single touch, from Simon’s palm on his cock to the fingertips he’s digging into Wille’s hips to hold him down, Wille feels it tenfold. It’s like Simon’s hand weighs heavier on him than usually, like his skin feels hotter against Wille’s sensitive one, like every sound Simon makes, every little huff of breath, every single tsk he makes when Wille involuntarily tries to thrust up into his grip, is amplified. Wille thinks he can hear Simon smile, that typical brief exhale through his nose, a quiet hum. The thought sends a shiver up his spine. There’s a thrill in not knowing, not being able to see. In having to wait for verbal confirmation that he’s doing it right. He hopes he’s being good for Simon, hopes he is looking pretty with the black silk tied around his head.

Prompts below the cut

Prompts by the events blog:

Water

Desk

uniform/clothes/accessories

Mirror

Neck

Fireplace

marks/spots/freckles

Food

sound/staying quiet

Threesome

hands/feet

Oral sex

First time

Frottage

Worship

Toys

face-sitting/deep-throating

Masturbation

Multiple orgasms

Lap dance

Biting

(semi-)public sex

Anasyrma

Blindfold

ice/sensory play

Lingerie

Phone sex/sexting

Role-playing

Cum-play

thighs/intercrural

Dacryphilia

Edging

humiliation/praise kink

Wax play

bondage/handcuffs

Nipple clamps

dom/sub

choking/breathplay

Daddy kink

Spanking

Other prompts, sent in by tumblr users/anons:

Angry sex

Insecurity

inexperienced/experienced

Cozy

Praise

trying sth new

Toys

romantic get-away

[hergrandplan]

Wille Month 2024 (@youngroyals-events), Day 1: Sandwich

These days, their love lies in the simple things – going to bed a bit earlier than they have to, just so they can cuddle, Wille’s home in his arms, right where he belongs. It is laughing over coffee, delaying heading to work for as long as they possibly can because they don’t want to miss a single moment with each other. Saturday afternoon cleaning sessions, interrupted by stolen kisses, and late-night reruns of their favorite shows.

The grand gestures are things they have left behind in the days of their youth – they don’t need the big declarations anymore, school anthems rewritten and thrones abdicated. There is no need for it, when love lingers in every single touch.

It’s in the quiet moments, the whispered ‘I love yous’, that Wille feels his heart almost combust with overflowing love.

And today, it’s in Simon showing up to his work unannounced. It’s almost scary, the way Simon knows exactly what Wille needs even when he hasn’t said a thing.

Wille’s morning consists of an endless string of meetings, each more awful than the last. It doesn’t help that his boss is away this week, having handed all his unfinished tasks for Wille to deal with, as if Wille doesn’t have enough to do already. It fills his stomach with dread, the amount of unanswered e-mails in his inbox that he has to do something with, even if he has no idea what.

By 11 am, Wille is drained, and has no idea how he’ll get through the next 6 hours. On top of that, there’s a message from Simon on his phone sent about an hour ago that he hasn’t even opened yet.

A few minutes past noon, there’s a soft knock on his door.

Wille has no time to deal with any of his colleagues right now – barely has time to think, but he says “come in” anyways, because maybe it’s urgent. Everything always feels urgent, somehow.

But instead of Myriam from accounting asking a question about the budget, or Ron coming in with more reports he has to sign off on, it’s Simon, the love of his life, standing in the doorway to his office. Smiling and curls tousled by the wind.

Relief floods through his body immediately – even just seeing him is enough to ease the pressure on his chest a bit.

Simon makes his way over to Wille and wraps his arms around him, nudging his chin up to kiss him, soft and tender. Wille clutches the fabric of his shirt tight, pressing his face against Simon’s sternum, but it isn’t until Simon places a kiss to the crown on his head that Wille feels like he can actually breathe again.

“Hey,” Simon says then. Wille hears the smile in his voice, feels how Simon’s arms tighten around him just a little, the press of his chin on his head. They hold each other like that – Wille, sat on his desk chair, Simon standing upright – for a few minutes, until Simon moves away a little so he can look at Wille. He places his hand on Wille’s cheek, and Wille leans into his touch immediately. He takes another deep breath.

“What are you doing here?” Wille asks, now gazing up at Simon. And he’s so beautiful, Wille still doesn’t know how he ever got this lucky.

Simon pulls away a bit, but keeps one arm wrapped around Wille’s frame while his other reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a tiny parcel, wrapped in a purple napkin.

“I figured, since you didn’t answer my texts, that you were either busy or stressed, and that you probably figured you didn’t have time for lunch, and so – I brought you lunch.”

Simon sits down on his lap as Wille takes the package from him and unwraps it to find a sandwich. Wille can’t help but chuckle as he takes a grateful bite. Simon knows him well – Wille hadn’t even thought about lunch yet, let alone if he was going to have it or not. He lets out a satisfied sigh at the taste of hummus and cucumber and cheese, with a little bit of hot sauce – just how Wille likes it.

The sandwich isn’t quite a surprise. Sandwiches are quick and easy, especially when the man you love has gone out of his way to give it to you because he knows you wouldn’t have eaten anything otherwise. But it’s also a small declaration of his love for Wille, an I care about you. By not answering his texts, Simon somehow figured out that Wille needed him, and here he was now, fingers playing with his hair as Wille enjoys this rare moment of peace and quiet in the middle of a busy work day.

“I love you,” Wille says, once he’s finished the sandwich.

“You better, I saved you from starvation,” Simon responds, smirking. Then his smile softens, and he presses his lips against Wille’s forehead. “I love you too.”

Wille lays his head on Simon’s shoulder again, brings his arms up to hold him, just for one moment longer until Simon has to go. At least his thoughts have quieted now, and even his mailbox doesn’t seem as daunting. He’s not sure if it’s the food or the simply Simon’s presence, but that doesn’t really matter.

Simon stays just a bit longer than necessary, just until Wille manages to clean up his inbox and knows that he’ll make it through the day without a panic attack. When he leaves, he takes a cookie out of his pocket and puts it on Wille’s desk. “For when you get peckish at 4,” he says.

And then, with one last final kiss goodbye, he’s out the door again.

Will doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

[in-amor-veritas]

✨little divorce fic spoiler for chapter 5 ✨

so this chapter will probably be ready either tonight or tomorrow but have a little excerpt because this was the first scene I wrote back on —checks notes— september 23rd

They stare at one another, at the shadows stretched across the floors and walls, at the distorted versions of themselves.

He wants to shout at him, argue or just do anything to keep Simon’s attention on him. It feels like there’s so much left unsaid and unresolved and all of it is still hanging in shreds that are loose in the wind.

Maybe he’s weak and addicted to something that he knows is going to hurt him. Maybe he just doesn’t care.

And that makes him angry, deep inside because why can’t just have a clean break the way Simon seems to be able to have?

But that’s also part of it, the frustration. Because the longer he stays here the less sure he is that Simon is somehow better at him when it comes to this whole moving-on thing. Sometimes he thinks he catches glimpses of cracks in the veneer, deeper than Simon will admit. Why won’t he sign the papers? Why has he invited him inside? What does he want? Why won’t he admit it?

He wants to scream it at him, but it’s so quiet and dark in his hall and his voice falls to a hush, “Then why did you invite me in?”

Simon gives him a long look, his eyes are hard and there’s a tight, thoughtful frown on his face. Eventually, he tilts his head upward, lips lifting into a bewildered smirk, as though he thinks the question is funny.

“If we are going to ask questions we already know the answer to then let me ask one as well— why did you come here?”