#wmday8

[hergrandplan]

Wille's month Day 8: wedding/engagement

Wille's month may be over but I still have a ton of stories to share, so we're just going to pretend it's still May! I am so sorry about that last one, I hope this one pays for all the therapy bills and emotional damages you sent me way.

Wille takes Simon to the lake to ask him a burning question; maybe the most important of all.

Read below the cut or on ao3! (2.2k, G, fluff and fluff only)

He’s conscious of the little box burning a hole in his pocket with every step he takes. Every step has it bouncing against his thigh, reminding him over and over again that it’s there, and that he’s going to do this. That he’s actually going to have this moment, one that he’s only seen in movies and on TV, but that’s now going to be his as well.

The walk to the lake seems truly endless. Wille wonders if it’s always been this far, or if it just seemed shorter when he was still wasted from the party, the only thing on his mind that he and Simon were over. When he was trying to make peace with that even as he trailed behind the other boy all those years ago.

Still, the path ahead seems endless, the scenery never changing – it’s just tree after tree after tree. But, he realizes, it might also simply be because of his nerves.

Wille sees Simon smiling out of the corner of his eye, and he smiles back, willing his heart to beat at just a normal pace for once.

Reminding himself, in a futile effort to relax, that the question has never been if, only when.

They’re in Bjärstad, having just come back from Linda’s. Felice should be here somewhere too, having made the drive up here solely for this moment but also because she had made it very clear that Wille wasn’t allowed to do this without her. (now he’s glad, because it means they’ll have pictures, if not a full video).

Simon suddenly stops, and Wille’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice and almost falls when he keeps walking and Simon doesn’t.

He looks to Simon, confused. They were supposed to go down to the waterline but they’re not there yet, not even close. He’s worried that there’s something wrong, maybe Simon’s hurt somehow or maybe the memory their last time here is too much.

But Simon reaches a tender hand to cup his face, and smooths down the crease that has started to appear on Wille’s forehead.

“You okay, my love?” Simon asks him. “You’re so quiet.”

Wille relaxes again, realizing that there’s nothing wrong with Simon, that Simon is just worried about him. So Wille nods, now eagerly leaning into the touch and reveling in the sensation of Simon brushing a soft thumb against his cheek. “Just… thinking,” he replies. “That’s all.”

“You’re not in your own head again, are you?”

“No,” he answers, and it’s true. He’s just nervous. “Can we um… can we keep walking? I want to see the sunset.” It’s a half-truth – though Wille truly doesn’t care whether he proposes to Simon in the light of the setting sun or under the moon and the stars, he does want to keep going. If Simon stalls  for just one more moment then he might not be able to stop himself from sinking down on one knee regardless of the place or the view. But Simon deserves better, deserves more than that.

He’s also afraid that the ring might actually be burning a hole through his pocket now and that he’s going to lose it.

Simon smiles softly, looking him deep in the eyes as if he’s trying to figure out whether Wille is lying or not, then seemingly decides that yes, Wille is okay. “Of course. Of course we can.”

He brushes his lips against Wille’s in a soft, gentle caress before they continue on down the shoreline.

At least this brief pause should have given Felice enough time to get into position.

They make it to the shoreline in relative silence, only broken by Simon softly humming along with the bird singing overhead.

It’s calm, and serene and Wille chose this spot, this moment on purpose but even standing here now, holding his love’s hands, he can’t help but think back to that one moment, when he thought he’d lost everything.

His grip on Simon’s hand tightens just a bit.

Not if, Wille reminds himself again.

When.

Simon has stopped humming, but the birds continue their never-changing, ever-present song. A gentle wind blows, ruffling the leaves and Wille breathes in the cold that has started to set in. The water laps against the rocks and it’s so … peaceful.

He starts counting down. He hasn’t agreed on a time with Felice, and she’ll probably be filming already, but he needs to count down to prepare himself.

5.

He remembers how he and Simon had stood here, newly in love, how he’d shouted at the guards that the water must be cold and how Simon had teased him that day, with that gorgeous, beautiful, heartstopping smile. How badly he wanted to kiss him, no matter who would have seen.

4.

He’s looking out over the water, his heart full of hurt as he can only think about Simon and Marcus. How he knew he had to let go but didn’t want to give up yet (he’s so glad he didn’t).

3.

A moment suspended in time, just like they are suspended in the air, lying in a hammock while their classmates are trying to build a fire. He’d thought life couldn’t get any better, with Simon in his arms and a view like that. He never wanted to leave it.

2.

‘Why do you like the monarchy so much? I’m just saying, I can see how it hurts you.’

When Simon had made him realize that he didn’t have to choose that life if he didn’t want it.

1.

Salty tears streaming down both their faces, mixing with the fresh water from the lake. The rising sun turning everything orange, making it look like a movie, one he has seen before one too many times. Wille, almost on his knees begging for just one more chance. Simon, already moving away from him and Wille realizing he had to let go.

Now.

Wille takes a deep breath. Inhaling the scent of dying leaves, of wet earth.

He hasn’t even noticed that Simon has let go of his hand somewhere in these past 5 seconds.

“Wille?”

Simon’s voice breaks through his thoughts. It’s shaking slightly, enough to make Wille (almost) forget what he’s about to do.

But when he looks over to Simon, he’s not there.

“Down here, love.”

And… oh.

Wille’s heart starts hammering in his chest once again when he sees Simon, sitting on one knee. Looking up at him with so much love and admiration that it knocks the air out of Wille’s lungs. And, to Wille’s own shock, he’s holding a velvety box displaying a beautiful silver, engraved band.

Simon keeps his eyes trained in Wille – sparkling in the low evening light. For a singular moment, Wille genuinely does forget that he has to breathe. So he exhales a slow, trembling breath, as Simon starts speaking.

“Wille, my love. My heart, my everything. If someone had told me that that awkward new kid at school would turn out to be the love of my life, I would have laughed them in the face. Me? Falling in love with some dumb prince who probably isn’t even able to fold his own laundry? No chance in hell.”

Wille can’t believe this is happening. He had meant to propose and now Simon was sitting in front of him, on one knee. Wille doesn’t know what to do or how to react, doesn’t know if he should get the ring out now or later or –

“Simon, I –“ Wille starts, because there’s a ring in his pocket as well and he wants to laugh. It’s almost comical that they’re so attuned to each other that they even planned to propose at the same time.

But Simon shakes his head, stopping him mid sentence.

“Please let me finish, Wille, because I have this whole speech thought out – and can you let me finish? Then you can say whatever you want.” The corner of Simon’s mouth lifts up, but there’s no nervousness behind it. In fact, he looks like he’s never been more sure of anything. Wille nods, allowing Simon to continue.

“Like I said – I thought there was no chance in hell. But then I met you, and you… you turned my whole world upside down. And you have kept doing that ever since. We may have had a rocky start, but these last few years have been the best of my whole life. And I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for you. You lift me up, and you’re always there when I do fall, and I know I’m safe to do so with you.

I love waking up next to you and knowing you’re the one I’m always coming home to. I love how you take a picture of everything, because you want to make the memory last forever, even if it’s just us having breakfast together, or going for a walk. I love how caring you are, how passionate. And most of all, I love you, every single part of you, and I want to keep loving you for the rest of my life.

So, Wille, will you let me?” Simon inhales deeply, gathering the courage for those last words, and Wille knows (because of course he knows, he knows Simon like the back of his hand) that it’s because he’s overcome by the moment.

“Will you marry me?”

Simon bites down on his lower lip. Now it’s Wille’s turn. Now he can say something.

But Wille is stunned beyond belief. The love of his life is sitting in front of him, proposing to him. Wille doesn’t know whether to look at the ring he’s holding up, or that brighter-than-the-sun smile or those sparkling eyes, glistening with tears. But yes, this is what he wants. Of course he wants to marry him.

Tears threaten to spill down Wille’s own face as he looks down at his love, this man, who is currently promising him forever.

Wille nods hard and quick, unable to say anything more than a breathy “yes” because what else can he say? Of course he wants to marry Simon – there’s nothing in the world he wants do more.

Joy floods Simon’s face, and he surges up to meet Wille in a fervent, messy kiss while tears stream down both their faces. Wille can taste the salt on his tongue, and doesn’t know if it’s Simon’s tears or his own or a mix of both, but it doesn’t matter, because Wille is cradling Simon’s face in his hands, bringing him closer, never wanting to let go. He can feel Simon smiling against him, and he’s smiling so widely too he can already feel his cheeks starting to hurt, but he doesn’t break their kiss, not even for one second.

Simon wraps his arms around Wille’s neck, and in the movement bumps his leg against Wille’s coat pocket. And then Wille suddenly remembers what’s in that pocket. How could he possibly have forgotten?

He places his hands on Simon’s shoulders, creating some distance between them. He laughs as Simon chases his lips and finds nothing but air, then pouts jokingly at the sudden loss of contact.

Wille stares into his boyfriend’s – no, fiancé’s – eyes, still grinning, still smiling and still so, so in love. Simon leans back in for another kiss, but Wille stops him.

“Wait, one second,” Wille says in a shaky voice at Simon’s confused look, and with equally shaky hands he fishes out the velvet box. Simon’s eyes widen at the realization, eyes flicking back from the box to Wille’s face.

“Wille, did you – were you –“ Simon stammers out, and Wille delights in the fact that it’s Simon who is speechless, and all because of Wille.

Wille briefly considers getting down one knee, doing it the proper way like Simon did it just now, but Simon’s arms are still wrapped around him, and Wille doesn’t ever want him to let go. And this, keeping this second proposal in the sacred space between them, feels more right than anything.

It feels more intimate, asking this question when they’re breathing the same air, here, where it’s just them.

Wille pops open the box, then places one hand on Simon’s lower back while the other keeps holding the ring up. He looks back into Simon’s eyes, and so up close he sees every emotion (and there are a lot of them) pass over Simon’s face. He sees the disbelief, the love, the amazement and the excitement, the is this real? Is this happening? He’s sure Simon saw those exact emotions on his face just moments ago.

“I had actually been planning on proposing today,” Wille whispers, and Simon’s eyes start shining again at the confession. “Before you beat me to it. So I hope it’s okay and you don’t think this is me stealing your thunder…” – at this Simon giggles, pushing his forehead against Wille’s – “but Simon Eriksson, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

Simon answers him with a kiss, one that Wille is only too ecstatic to return.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Engagement

how is it already/only day 8?? ily @youngroyals-events <3

enjoy some tooth-rotting fluff

Wille asks Simon to marry him. Simon says no. rating: T (cw implied sexual content but very minor)

read below the cut or on ao3 ! xx

He’d had the ring for a while now. Of course he had. Simon was pretty sure that — had he not been a little distracted by the whole sex scandal and the monarchy and the shitstorm of other problems that came with that — he would’ve known that Wille was it for him right when they’d met. The boy was such a dork that, despite his position, Simon found himself immediately interested. If you looked past the centuries of privilege and unfairly accumulated wealth, he was rather cute. 

While the first year had been absolutely the worst ever in a kind of ridiculous way, they made it. Things had only gotten better for them after Wille stepped down and they finally got to be together. Just them. No monarchy, no royal court, no crown. Just Wille and Simon. 

The years slid by in unimaginable bliss. They fit so well together. Every touch was just as burning as the last, every look just as charged with love and lust. Everything between them fell into place. Most of the time. Wille was a bit of a drama queen, after all, and Simon was, even he could admit, a little hard headed. They’d fight over little things, but usually ended up falling into bed together later that night. Sometimes they’d fight about big things; things they couldn’t ignore. They’d scream at each other and then they’d go to bed quiet, untouching. Sometimes, one of them would break, reaching out in the middle of the night and wrapping a hand around the other, just to know they were still there. Other times, they’d wake up in the morning still on opposite sides of the bed. Then they’d sit down together and try to stumble through whatever murky problem had arisen. They got better at it over time. 

By the time they were both 25, done with school and settled into their little apartment, they barely fought over real stuff anymore. Well, they fought all the time, but it was Wille complaining that Simon was still up with the lamp on past midnight. Or it was Simon griping at Wille for forgetting to move the towels to the dryer. The fights over little, silly things were some of Simon’s favorite parts about them, and he knew Wille liked it, too. The problems were so normal. He and Wille were having normal couple arguments. Most of the time, they didn’t even mention the monarchy or the royal court or any of it anymore. That was the best part. 

Simon knew that he wanted this forever and he planned to romance the hell out of his boyfriend before asking the question. He’d been in cahoots with Felice and Sara for months, planning and making sure everything would be perfect. It wasn’t going to be anything big, and it would be private — they’d had enough of their relationship put on display for the public eye — but it had to be perfect. He’d dedicated so much time to this because Wille deserved it. After everything, Wile deserved the fucking world. Simon couldn’t actually give him the world, but he would make sure he got damn close. 

Apparently, Wille had other ideas. Simon’s plans were still a week out, but one morning he woke to Wille staring at him with teary eyes. 

“Baby?” he mumbled, scrambling to shake the sleep from his brain. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Wille shook his head and gave a watery smile. “No, I’m okay. I just love you so much.” 

Breathing out in relief, Simon flopped back onto the pillows. “Jesus, Wille, you scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.”

He did actually sound a little sorry, so Simon scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Wille’s bare torso, pulling him close. “That’s okay. Warm me up and maybe I’ll forgive you.” 

Always happy to oblige, Wille did just that, wrapping strong arms around him and pulling Simon half on top of him. He buried his face in Simon’s curls and sighed happily. 

“You’re my favorite person.” 

Simon hummed back and pressed a soft kiss to Wille’s collarbone.

“Marry me.” 

Simon yanked back abruptly. “What?”

Wille grinned. “Marry me.” 

“You’re not serious,” Simon breathed.

“I am.” He reached out and cupped Simon’s face gently. “Simon, you’re it for me.”

Simon stared at him.  

“No.”

“No?” 

“No!” He pulled away and climbed out of the bed, leaving Wille to watch him go, a terribly confused look on his face. 

While he thought he’d gotten away with it when Wille didn’t mention it again, he was wrong. Three days later, Simon arrived home from work and walked into their living room to find Wille seated on the couch, surrounded by rose petals and candles. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Hi love,” Wille grinned and patted the couch next to him. “Come sit. I made us dinner.” 

Simon tentatively walked over and sat down. This was suspiciously romantic. His eyes roved over the beautiful plates of food — Simon’s favorite pasta dish which Wille had invented —, the dim lights, the sappy, nervous look on Wille’s face. 

“What is this?” he asked skeptically, fixing a hard stare on Wille. 

“Well,” he looked down sheepishly, then his hand started moving toward the pocket on his pants. “I thought, after the other day, maybe you were a little upset that I hadn't planned a bigger thing. Which is fair. I should have, because you deserve that, so–” 

Simon stood up quickly, nearly kicking the coffee table in the process. “Don’t you dare,” he warned, holding out a finger. 

“Simon–” 

“No!” He cut him off, again, and stomped out of the room. 

And, okay, maybe he could’ve handled it a bit better. But he wasn’t about to let his months of planning go down the drain just because Wille beat him to the punch! The poor man did seem a little sulky, even after Simon woke him up by sliding down under the sheets on a sunny Friday morning. 

“Come on, slow poke,” Simon whined, dragging Wille out of bed. “I have a surprise for you.” 

The surprise was one of many, in fact. Simon, the genius he was, had created a scavenger hunt for Wille around town. Each little clue was a song lyric which hinted at some place that was meaningful to them. 

Throughout the day, Wille’s mood improved exponentially as they traveled from place to place. The park where they shared their first date after moving to town, the coffee shop they visited every Sunday, the alleyway in which Wille had asked Simon to move in with him. Along the way, they laughed and reminisced and it was absolutely perfect. 

The last clue led them to the roof of their own apartment complex. Simon hadn’t requested anything crazy, but Felice and Sara had out done themselves. Piles of pillows laid atop a plush blanket and little string lights twinkled in the setting sun. There was an ice box of champagne and a bowl of strawberries, and it all looked a bit like something off the Bachelor. 

“Fuck,” Simon laughed.

“You didn’t do this?”

“Well, not really. I just told Sara and Felice to make it cozy up here. They… sure did.” 

Wille smiled brightly, eyes shining, and pulled Simon over to their little set-up. “It’s wonderful.”

They settled onto the pillows, curling up together and watching the sun disappear below the horizon. Simon, after all this, found himself getting nervous. He’d been planning all of this for months, meticulously picking lyrics and selecting the spots that meant the most to them. How had he forgotten to think of what he would say? 

“Today was perfect, Simon,” Wille whispered into his neck. “Thank you. I love you.” 

To calm his nerves, he took a deep breath and sat up. 

“Wille,” he started slowly. “Nothing in this world makes me as happy as you do. Getting to wake up next to you every day feels like a dream. After everything…to know we still made it– I’m just so proud of you. I’m so proud of us. I love you. So much. And I just–”

“Yes.” 

Simon froze, mouth half open. 

“Sorry,” Wille said. He didn’t look very sorry. “You can keep going. But the answer is yes.” 

Shaking his head, Simon laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little black box. “Will you marry m– oof!”

Wille jumped on him, tackling him and pinning him to the pillows. His mouth somehow found Simon’s on the way down. Simon grinned into the kiss, dropping the box in favor of putting his hands on his fiancé. 

“Is anyone coming up here?” Wille breathed into his neck, already urgently nipping at the skin there. 

“No,” Simon gasped, slipping his hands under Wille’s shirt. “Felice and Sara are guarding the stairs.”

Wille grinned, already reaching for Simon’s pants. “Perfect.”

Sometime later, Wille giggled into the darkness. 

“You rejected me. Twice.”

Simon shrugged.

“This is why you kept saying ‘no’?”

“Duh,” Simon said. “I’ve wanted to marry you since we were 16, dumbass.”