#wilmon

[wilmonshake]

[retrieve-the-kraken]

feIiz cumpleaños a wille!

wille’s birthdays will be happy from now on 😌💜

[gulliblelemon]

Don't Tell Simon

My day 4 contribution to the 10 days to 1k challenge. Fandom: Young Royals | Prompt: in vino veritas | Rating: T | AO3

-

“But Simon… Simon.”

Wille pressed his face close and Simon ducked away from the wine fumes.

“What?” he said, half exasperated, half amused.

“I had to leave.”

With effort, Simon hauled Wille the rest of the way through his window, where they tumbled to the floor in an inebriated pile. Well… Simon wasn’t inebriated. But Wille was inebriated enough for the both of them.

Simon dragged himself to his feet. Wille remained supine, eyes closed.

“Why?” Simon bent down to tug Wille’s shoe off.

He was wondering if Wille had fallen asleep when: “Because they were about to play truth or dare.”

Scoffing, Simon removed the other shoe and tossed them both away. “I know. Why do people find that fun?”

Wille hummed, eyes still shut. “Exactly.”

Simon was just about to ask if Wille needed help getting up when Wille faux-whispered, “And I have a secret.”

Simon chuckled. “Oh really?”

“They’d have found it out,” Wille muttered. His breathing was getting deeper.

“Come on,” Simon said, tugging his arm. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you sleep on the floor?”

With lots of heaving and groaning and not a great deal of help from Wille, Simon deposited him on his bed, shoving his legs unceremoniously under the covers.

Face smushed into the pillow, Wille said, “And none of them can ever find out. Especially not Simon.”

Simon whipped around, pausing on his way to the window. “What?”

“Simon…” Wille sighed. “He can’t find out.”

“Can’t find out what?”

“That I’m in love with him.”

Simon froze, still half on the way to leaving. But he didn’t want to leave anymore. Now, he very much wanted to stay.

A snore reminded Simon that Wille was drunk. Not only drunk, but now also asleep.

But… he couldn’t just leave. Not after—

Quietly, Simon pulled off his shoes and jacket and slipped under the covers in the spare bed. Maybe he’d ask Wille about it tomorrow.

-

Simon woke to sun streaming through the gap in the curtains. And Wille watching him.

“Good morning,” Wille said, sounding hungover, and tired, and… nervous?

“Morning,” Simon grumbled, burrowing further into the covers.

“Thanks for rescuing me last night,” Wille said.

“That’s okay.”

The stretching silence made Simon come out from hiding. Wille was biting his lip. Then he said, “Do, uhm, do you remember what I said to you last night?”

[fairylwt]

the relief and absolute joy on their faces when they realise that they’re finally free

[simons-purplehoodie]

Wilmon were a lot of things, but subtle was never one of them 🤭

[hehehereliesmysanity]

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

Young Royals 1.05/3.01

[princequeerik]

you're hopeless 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼

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an: if any of u want to be tagged whenever i update just comment and lmk!! i’m more than happy to do so (:

synopsis: After he and his sister move schools, Simon finds himself joining the swim team - the only place he found for himself at his old school. Meanwhile, Wilhelm is the best distance swimmer on the team. They immediately take a liking to Simon from the moment they first see him. Through tough practices, long bus rides, and meets the two grow closer together. Pushing each other to new limits and being more than they could’ve ever imagined.

taglist is open! (:

[grapehyasynth]

[lazybug16]

The "Fuck the monarchy" bf

The "Please do" bf

[raincitygirl76]

I believe the observant Swedish literature teacher is called Froken Ramirez.

I’m not sure what Froken means exactly, but it seems to be some kind of honorific. Apparently at Swedish public schools, kids call their teachers by their first names (please correct me if I’m wrong). Hillerska of course would stick to the old ways and be much more formal. Not just Mrs Ramirez, but Froken. Just as the math teacher is Magister Englund rather than Mr Englund.

[gulliblelemon]

Something Sweet

My day 5 contribution to the 10 days to 1k challenge. Fandom: Young Royals | Prompt: sweat | Rating: T | AO3

-

Wille watched as a bead of sweat dripped from the end of one of Simon’s curls, down the side of his neck and over his chest. 

Realising where it was going, Wille whipped his eyes away from his friend’s partially reclined body.

Simon cracked an eye, squinting against the sun. ”You okay?”

”Fine,” Wille squeaked. ”Yeah. Just— it’s hot. D’you want a drink?”

Simon surveyed him for a moment before closing his eyes again and tipping his head back. Wille wanted to lick his neck.

”Sure. Something… sweet. And fruity.”

A grin spread on Simon’s lips and Wille’s cheeks burned. 

He swallowed. “Right. Sweet. I’ll, uh, be right back.”

It had been foolish to think Wille could survive this post-graduation trip. Foolish to think that being tragically in love with his best friend wouldn’t make it near impossible to relax. Sure, they were surrounded by friends, but Simon was right there. And half naked – all the time.

The sun loved Simon, and Simon loved the sun. 

And Wille loved Simon.

Fuck.

Balancing the drinks and trying not to trip over his feet at Simon’s grateful smile, Wille lowered onto the chair beside Simon’s.

“Thanks,” Simon said, taking his drink. A bead of condensation dripped over Simon’s hand and down to his wrist. Just like the sweat, Wille was powerless to stop himself tracking the movement with his eyes. When Simon lifted his hand and licked the drop, Wille almost combusted. 

Then, Simon raised the glass to his smirk and took a long sip. Wille watched his throat bob. With effort, Wille tore his eyes away and took a deep pull of his own drink, trying to cool himself from the inside.

When he placed his glass down, Simon was watching him. “How is it?” Simon asked.

“How’s what?”

“Your drink.” Simon tilted his head, a pensive expression on his face.

“Good,” Wille fabricated, having not tasted a thing. “Yours?”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “Sweet. Do you want to try some?”

“Sure.” Wille reached his hand out to take Simon’s glass.

Just as his fingers were about to close around it, Simon pulled it out of reach, with a mischievous grin. “What—” Wille said, confused.

“I said… Do you want to try some?” Simon’s voice had dropped to a tone that made Wille’s insides fizz.

“Yes,” Wille replied. “That’s what—”

But Simon shook his head. “From here.” With his other hand, he raised his forefinger and tapped his bottom lip.

Wille’s eyes widened as he watched Simon’s finger drag down his mouth. “If… you want.” Simon’s voice had lost some of its confidence the longer Wille hesitated. And he couldn’t have that, couldn’t have Simon worrying that he’d got it wrong. Because, fuck, he’d got it so right.

So without any more thinking, Wille leant forward and captured Simon’s lips. He tasted of oranges and pineapples and sweat. And when he smiled against Wille’s lips before diving back in for more, Wille didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so utterly, sweetly divine.

[enjoythesilentworld]

How about 70 "you're so gorgeous" and 16 "I want you now" for the smutty prompt thingy, please 💜

ello ello thank u darlin anon for the promptsss i hope u like this one! cant even give u the first paragraph because nsfw so ... have a peek under the cut! <3 (tldr wille's goin very slow and simon wants)

Simon keens at the next swipe of Wille’s tongue along his hip bones, back arching to lift himself closer, chasing the feeling, that beautiful mouth. In the next moment Wille’s fingers—two, buried deep inside him—curl, and the whine in Simon’ throat breaks off into a moan. 

“Wille.”

The name comes out breathless, so breathless it’s not loud enough to break through whatever haze has clouded around Wille’s mind. Wille’s mouth is still going, though, humming happily as he nips along Simon’s chest; his fingers continue their torturous slide in, and out, now barely facing any resistance. Undeterred even when Simon clenches around them, as if that can stop Wille from pulling them out—again. It’s slow, and gentle, and he doesn’t go far, fingers brushing lightly over the rim before dipping back inside, just barely. Finally, at least, now it’s three fingers working him open, but it’s still torturously slow, torturously gentle, and it’s been what feels like an hour, and Simon’s practically trembling, hands reaching out uselessly for Wille’s shoulders. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Wille says, voice full of something that sounds like awe. He’s pulled back now, sitting back on his heels and watching with half-lidded eyes where his fingers disappear into Simon, where his ceaseless ministrations have left the inside of Simon’s thighs pink and wet and marked. Unaware, seemingly, of where his own cock curves up hard against his stomach. It kicks when Simon clenches around his fingers.

In times like this, where it’s been a little while since they’ve had a day—or full weekend—to themselves, Wille gets a little one track minded. While every other time Wille is naked and splayed out on the bed before Simon can even reach down to take off his own shirt, in times like this, Wille goes slow. Very slow. Torturously slow. 

And it’s hot. It’s incredibly hot to be worshipped, to be taken care of, to be drawn out to the edge under Wille’s skilled hands and sinful mouth for as many minutes, hours, as the man wants. But, eventually, Simon reaches a tipping point.

He whines again, “Wille,” hoping the man will finally hear the desperation in his voice. “Please.” 

Whatever Wille hears, he does lean forward, and Simon surges up to meet his kiss, eager and hungry. For a moment, Simon gets lost in it; the taste of Wille, the press of his tongue, brings him such untoward pleasure that if all they ever did for the rest of their lives was kiss like this, Simon would be immeasurably happy. As it happens, in Wille’s haste to lay himself over Simon, the tip of his hard cock drags along Simon’s, pulling moans from both of them, and Simon is reminded that they can do much more than kiss. 

“I want you,” Simon mumbles into Wille’s mouth, fingernails dragging through his hair. 

Wille hums. “You’ve got me, baby.” 

Simon tightens his grip and tugs, earning a pretty little gasp. He meets Wille’s eye. “Now.” 

Slack jawed, Wille nods rapidly. In his haste, he pulls his fingers out a little too quickly, which would normally have caused more of a hiss from Simon if he hadn’t been getting thoroughly prepped for the last fucking hour or two. Nonetheless, Wille presses apologetic kisses to his face and jaw and neck as he wipes his hand carelessly on the towel and lines himself up.

Even after it all, the first drag of Wille’s cock inside him steals Simon’s breath for a moment. And then it’s nothing but heat and pleasure and not fucking enough. He wraps his legs around Wille’s hips and pulls him the rest of the way in. 

Wille bottoms out with a grunted, “Fuck,” eyes squeezing shut and hands tightening in the sheets around Simon’s head. 

“No more slow,” Simon instructs.  

It takes a moment for his eyes to open, still seated fully inside Simon, hips stirring in delicious little circles, but once they do— Wille goes quickly from an unfocused, fucked out stare to razor sharp, locked in on Simon. A task received, accepted. He nods rapidly and parrots, “No more slow.”

The next snap of Wille’s hips send Simon inching up the bed, which he almost doesn’t even notice, too lost, too fucking gone to process anything other than Wille driving deeper, ever deeper. Except Wille is paying attention, and he reaches up to put a hand between the top of Simon’s head and the wall (somehow in their very long foreplay followed by world’s longest prep, they’d gotten a little turned around), which is incredibly sweet, but it also means it takes some of his maneuverability away. Simon retracts one hand from clawing at Wille’s back to instead press into the wall, then hikes his legs up higher.

“Yeah,” Simon encourages with his few remaining brain cells. “So good, Wille. So— Fucking good.”

Besides the stretch, the fucking finally, Simon loves to watch Wille. The way he fights to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch back, wanting to keep their eyes locked together as they chase their pleasure, until inevitably losing himself to it. When Wille gets close, he collapses down onto Simon, burying his face in his neck and gasping his name, over and over and over, hips rocking at ridiculous speed, and all at once still having the mental capacity to reach down to give Simon something to fuck up into. 

Simon’s eyes fall shut, too, listening to Wille chant his name, inhaling the overwhelming smell of sweat and sex and shared soap, fingers curling against the paint of the wall, the wall of their shared home, until he breaks.

[jj-draws-stupid-things]

wilmon dancing together

i wanted to draw them dancing since 2021

[hehehereliesmysanity]