alyssé & simón » this means nothing to the moonlight
Story: RPG storyverse (vaguely canon-adjacent I think?)
Genre: Romance I guess
Rating: 16+
Characters: Alyssé & fool_with_dream's Simón
Challenge: this challenge with tons of kissing prompts (stolen from unpolar)
CN: Arranged engagement, kissing, general physical intimacy, teasing & arguing as a love language & form of flirting lol, mentions of werewolf transformations
Author's Note: Watch me drop random ass ficlets written to prompts I got for a random ass challenge over a year ago, ayyyy~ (I'm very soft for young!Aly & I've been daydreaming about these two a lot lately, pls bear with me, I WAS REALLY HYPED WHEN I FOUND THIS FICLET ALMOST FINISHED IN MY STASH OF WIPs) ((my favorite part is when, if u read between the lines, aly internally goes like: SCENT KINK??? what scent kink?? you mean my werewolf senses? haha, that's definitely completely annoying and has not awakened any kinks in me WHATSOEVER))
against a wall kiss
With only the moonlight streaming through the large window panes, the ballroom is barely lit at all. There is nothing else to lead the way, to shine light upon the opulent decorations the servants of the royal family have put up over the past couple of days; just night and shadows and soft silver beams of light glimmering in between.
It’s beautiful like this, Alyssé thinks. Much more beautiful than it is filled to the brim with babbling partygoers, musicians playing their upbeat tunes, expensive perfume flooding the air, mixed in with the appetizing smells of the buffet lined up along the wall for the guests to devour. It’s meant to impress; it’s a room designed with lavish parties and rich guests in mind, after all, a room for events of the most decadent kind. But right now, it’s just an empty room in Alyssé’s childhood home, drenched in moonlight and silence, offering the young princess something pleasing to look at, vague shapes of a fantasy not yet revealed to the world, an intangible dream dancing around her peripheral vision. Something to soothe her restless mind and help her get through yet another sleepless night.
Her steps barely make a sound as she crosses the room, feet naked, gaze wandering, trying to take in everything she can while it’s still dark and empty and peaceful. She can’t help but notice that her vision has improved since her transformations started, especially in the dark. White tablecloths with golden embroidery and lace around the edges, cream-colored ribbons, golden banners, oak wood benches and cushioned armchairs along the sides of the room - she can see them all, make out details she never would have guessed under the same circumstances just a few years prior.
She interrupts her thoughts before they can drift into a direction she doesn’t like, lets out a sigh as she focuses on her beautiful surroundings again. She didn’t come here to dive deeper into her misery, but to distract herself from everything that has been bothering her.
As she reaches the middle of the room - the exact spot where she is supposed to dance tomorrow night when the ball begins, a ball her parents have organized in honor of the engagement she never wanted -, she closes her eyes, puts one hand on her chest, feeling her own heartbeat. In her head, she begins to conjure a melody, spin notes into a rhythm that occupies her mind, makes her wish there was a piano right there for her to play with no one around, no guests, no servants, no family, no audience at all; just her and the music she would fill the nightly silence with, music flowing straight from her heart through her fingers and into the keys that make her favorite instrument sound.
»Too nervous to fall asleep?« A familiar voice startles her, makes her spin around and open her eyes, instinctively trying to make out the intruder across the vast ballroom.
Simón.
Even if she couldn’t see that infuriatingly handsome face at all, she would recognize his voice anywhere.
»Too angry«, she replies, and immediately bites her lower lip, silently cursing herself for the sudden burst of honesty. She wasn’t planning on telling him the truth, wasn’t planning on answering his question at all, but it’s so simple, so obvious, she couldn’t hold it back.
»Is it really that bad to dance with a soon-to-be king at a decadent ball that serves to announce your engagement to the entire kingdom, if not the entire continent?« He raises an eyebrow, and she could swear she sees a playful glint in his eyes, though it seems impossible to spot in this lighting. »Bad enough that you would lose some of your precious beauty sleep over it?«
»Definitely that bad.« If there’s one thing Alyssé is sure of, it’s that she does not want this engagement. She wants a lot of things in life, and none of them involve marrying some rich royal idiot who surely has every intention of telling her how to live her life and how to rule her kingdom and how to dress and how to- »What are you doing here, anyway?«, she adds, chin jutted out in defiance. »Do you always prance around your generous hosts’ homes in the middle of the night, disturbing them in their attempts to find some peace so they can finally fall asleep?«
»Only when it’s my lovely fiancée wandering around the castle all restless and agitated.« His smirk softens, lips curling into a more gentle, honest smile, his words tinged with a vague hint of serious concern. »What’s bothering you, mon amour?«
She hates that hearing him say that makes some part of her melt; that some part of her just wants to tangle her fingers in his ridiculously thick and shiny hair and pull him in to kiss him on his absurdly beautiful lips.
»You are bothering me.« Alyssé shakes off the tempting thoughts. She banned those from her head a long time ago, and they are not going to start bothering her again. Not now. »Get the hell out of my ballroom until the ball starts, goddamnit.«
»Am I not allowed to care about your well-being?« He crosses the distance between them, and she doesn’t have it in her to take a step back. Not yet. He stops at only an arm’s length away from her, and she can’t quite tell whether he’s teasing or seriously concerned. »Am I not allowed to worry about you? To look after you, mi vida?«
For God’s sake, why does his voice sound so good in every damn language he speaks? And what on earth is going on with those terms of endearment she would deem overly romantic and too cliché coming from anyone else, but somehow loves when it’s him throwing them into their conversations every now and then?
»Absolutely not«, she says, voice sharper than necessary. »The only thing you’re allowed to do is leave me alone.«
»Oh«, he sighs, the corners of his goddamn lovely mouth creeping up again. »I could never. And we both know you wouldn’t truly want me to.«
Alyssé can feel her shoulders tighten, her jaw clench. She doesn’t reply, but takes a few steps back now, her legs and feet finally obeying her command again.
Simón swiftly follows, with all the grace and the precision of a trained partner following her across the floor not to argue, but to dance. She hates how well they work together, even when they’re not necessarily trying to. Or at least she isn’t.
»It’s alright«, he assures her, coming close enough to reach for her, the tips of his fingers brushing over her bare arm before she pulls away and takes another step back. »I’m not here to judge. I’m not here to bother or tease you, I promise.«
Alyssé swallows hard. »What are you here for, then?«
»I want to take care of you.« He sounds so earnest, the implications of his tone make her feel a bit lightheaded. »I know you, Alyssé. Better than you’d ever care to admit. I know you’re not … feeling great about all of this. But we can work through it. We used to get along so well, remember? Let me help.«
He’s technically not wrong - she used to have a crush on him way before their parents ever got the idea to arrange their marriage. She genuinely liked him ever since they first met, back when they were toddlers, fighting over toys and children’s games and the attention of their nannies. She has been attracted to him since before she even learned what attraction was, and she knows damn well he’s fucking perfect for her, in theory, exactly what she needs, exactly what she should want. And yet …
He’s right, and it makes her even more angry.
»Goddamnit, you’re so insufferable«, she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she keeps stepping further away from him - and he continues to follow her. »The world does not revolve around you, you know? I know it’s hard to grasp with an ego as big as yours, but it’s a fact. I do have thoughts and feelings and problems that have nothing to do with you at all.«
»But I am, in fact, in your thoughts and feelings and problems, aren’t I?«
He takes another step towards her, she retreats once more, and suddenly, her shoulders hit the wall. She didn’t even realize they had crossed half the room up until now. Up close like this, just like his touch, Simón’s scent is inescapable; it seems to be clouding her mind, even now that he’s not wearing any perfume as far as she can tell. It’s probably just another way her senses developed after her transformations started - a heightened sense of smell typical for her kind. Nothing more, nothing less.
Simón lets himself fall forwards slightly, his weight pinning her against the wall as he holds himself up with one arm. She feels trapped, and at the same time, she doesn’t want to escape. Fuck, she doesn’t want him to stop coming closer and closer until there’s barely any air left between them.
His other hand reaches for her, and his fingertips come to rest just below her chin, raising it ever so slightly, forcing her to look up at him.
»Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me«, he says, his voice lowered, sending shivers down her spine. »I dare you.«
Alyssé could never resist a good dare, let alone one with such high stakes.
»I don’t want you.« It’s a trembling whisper, a stifled gasp, a straight-out lie. »I don’t want you at all, Simón. Not as a friend, not as a lover, and sure as hell not as a husband. I can’t stand you.«
For a long moment, Simón just looks at her. Then, he laughs. »Didn’t think you were such a bad liar, Aly. I must have overestimated you.«
Alyssé groans. »Oh, shut up. You’re such an-«
Before she can finish her sentence, he leans in closer, and it makes her stop right in her tracks. His lips are hovering just before hers, his gaze keeps flickering between her lips and her eyes, and she could swear his breath hitches, gets caught in his throat for a split second the same way hers does sometimes when he catches her off guard-
»Simón«, she whispers, her breath hot against his lips. »We should-« Her words trail off; suddenly, she doesn’t even know what she was trying to say.
First, their eyes meet for a long, lingering moment. No more flickering gazes, no more dancing around the truth. Just his gorgeous brown eyes fixed on hers, the tension between them singing a silent song of desire, setting fire to her heart - the kind of fire that seemingly comes out of nowhere and tends to spread way too fast.
Then, finally, their lips meet, too.
Alyssé couldn’t deny the impact of that even if she tried. A soft sigh travels from her lips to his, only to be swallowed by a kiss that’s just as thrilling as it is familiar; a kiss that feels like coming home and conquering new territory both at the same time. Before she knows it, she is tangling her fingers in Simón’s ridiculously beautiful hair, pulling him closer while tilting her head to the side ever so slightly, deepening the kiss she would never admit she was longing for.
When they break apart - both kind of breathless, but trying to hide it -, a smug smile is playing on his lips.
»If you can kiss me like this«, he murmurs, »dancing a chaste little dance to please our parents and charm the crowds shouldn’t be much of an issue, chérie.«
Alyssé rolls her eyes. »Absolutely insufferable«, she sighs. But soon enough, his lips are drowning her words in pure passion again, tongue catching hers in a bold move, inviting her to a very different kind of dance.
The moonlight doesn’t care, Alyssé thinks. She might let her guard down this one time, but really, it doesn’t mean anything to anyone, does it? It won’t. Not in the future she has laid out for herself. A future that doesn’t hold space for the fiancé her parents chose for her. This means nothing to the moonlight, and nobody else will know.
Genre: Romance I guess
Rating: 16+
Characters: Alyssé & fool_with_dream's Simón
Challenge: this challenge with tons of kissing prompts (stolen from unpolar)
CN: Arranged engagement, kissing, general physical intimacy, teasing & arguing as a love language & form of flirting lol, mentions of werewolf transformations
Author's Note: Watch me drop random ass ficlets written to prompts I got for a random ass challenge over a year ago, ayyyy~ (I'm very soft for young!Aly & I've been daydreaming about these two a lot lately, pls bear with me, I WAS REALLY HYPED WHEN I FOUND THIS FICLET ALMOST FINISHED IN MY STASH OF WIPs) ((my favorite part is when, if u read between the lines, aly internally goes like: SCENT KINK??? what scent kink?? you mean my werewolf senses? haha, that's definitely completely annoying and has not awakened any kinks in me WHATSOEVER))
against a wall kiss
With only the moonlight streaming through the large window panes, the ballroom is barely lit at all. There is nothing else to lead the way, to shine light upon the opulent decorations the servants of the royal family have put up over the past couple of days; just night and shadows and soft silver beams of light glimmering in between.
It’s beautiful like this, Alyssé thinks. Much more beautiful than it is filled to the brim with babbling partygoers, musicians playing their upbeat tunes, expensive perfume flooding the air, mixed in with the appetizing smells of the buffet lined up along the wall for the guests to devour. It’s meant to impress; it’s a room designed with lavish parties and rich guests in mind, after all, a room for events of the most decadent kind. But right now, it’s just an empty room in Alyssé’s childhood home, drenched in moonlight and silence, offering the young princess something pleasing to look at, vague shapes of a fantasy not yet revealed to the world, an intangible dream dancing around her peripheral vision. Something to soothe her restless mind and help her get through yet another sleepless night.
Her steps barely make a sound as she crosses the room, feet naked, gaze wandering, trying to take in everything she can while it’s still dark and empty and peaceful. She can’t help but notice that her vision has improved since her transformations started, especially in the dark. White tablecloths with golden embroidery and lace around the edges, cream-colored ribbons, golden banners, oak wood benches and cushioned armchairs along the sides of the room - she can see them all, make out details she never would have guessed under the same circumstances just a few years prior.
She interrupts her thoughts before they can drift into a direction she doesn’t like, lets out a sigh as she focuses on her beautiful surroundings again. She didn’t come here to dive deeper into her misery, but to distract herself from everything that has been bothering her.
As she reaches the middle of the room - the exact spot where she is supposed to dance tomorrow night when the ball begins, a ball her parents have organized in honor of the engagement she never wanted -, she closes her eyes, puts one hand on her chest, feeling her own heartbeat. In her head, she begins to conjure a melody, spin notes into a rhythm that occupies her mind, makes her wish there was a piano right there for her to play with no one around, no guests, no servants, no family, no audience at all; just her and the music she would fill the nightly silence with, music flowing straight from her heart through her fingers and into the keys that make her favorite instrument sound.
»Too nervous to fall asleep?« A familiar voice startles her, makes her spin around and open her eyes, instinctively trying to make out the intruder across the vast ballroom.
Simón.
Even if she couldn’t see that infuriatingly handsome face at all, she would recognize his voice anywhere.
»Too angry«, she replies, and immediately bites her lower lip, silently cursing herself for the sudden burst of honesty. She wasn’t planning on telling him the truth, wasn’t planning on answering his question at all, but it’s so simple, so obvious, she couldn’t hold it back.
»Is it really that bad to dance with a soon-to-be king at a decadent ball that serves to announce your engagement to the entire kingdom, if not the entire continent?« He raises an eyebrow, and she could swear she sees a playful glint in his eyes, though it seems impossible to spot in this lighting. »Bad enough that you would lose some of your precious beauty sleep over it?«
»Definitely that bad.« If there’s one thing Alyssé is sure of, it’s that she does not want this engagement. She wants a lot of things in life, and none of them involve marrying some rich royal idiot who surely has every intention of telling her how to live her life and how to rule her kingdom and how to dress and how to- »What are you doing here, anyway?«, she adds, chin jutted out in defiance. »Do you always prance around your generous hosts’ homes in the middle of the night, disturbing them in their attempts to find some peace so they can finally fall asleep?«
»Only when it’s my lovely fiancée wandering around the castle all restless and agitated.« His smirk softens, lips curling into a more gentle, honest smile, his words tinged with a vague hint of serious concern. »What’s bothering you, mon amour?«
She hates that hearing him say that makes some part of her melt; that some part of her just wants to tangle her fingers in his ridiculously thick and shiny hair and pull him in to kiss him on his absurdly beautiful lips.
»You are bothering me.« Alyssé shakes off the tempting thoughts. She banned those from her head a long time ago, and they are not going to start bothering her again. Not now. »Get the hell out of my ballroom until the ball starts, goddamnit.«
»Am I not allowed to care about your well-being?« He crosses the distance between them, and she doesn’t have it in her to take a step back. Not yet. He stops at only an arm’s length away from her, and she can’t quite tell whether he’s teasing or seriously concerned. »Am I not allowed to worry about you? To look after you, mi vida?«
For God’s sake, why does his voice sound so good in every damn language he speaks? And what on earth is going on with those terms of endearment she would deem overly romantic and too cliché coming from anyone else, but somehow loves when it’s him throwing them into their conversations every now and then?
»Absolutely not«, she says, voice sharper than necessary. »The only thing you’re allowed to do is leave me alone.«
»Oh«, he sighs, the corners of his goddamn lovely mouth creeping up again. »I could never. And we both know you wouldn’t truly want me to.«
Alyssé can feel her shoulders tighten, her jaw clench. She doesn’t reply, but takes a few steps back now, her legs and feet finally obeying her command again.
Simón swiftly follows, with all the grace and the precision of a trained partner following her across the floor not to argue, but to dance. She hates how well they work together, even when they’re not necessarily trying to. Or at least she isn’t.
»It’s alright«, he assures her, coming close enough to reach for her, the tips of his fingers brushing over her bare arm before she pulls away and takes another step back. »I’m not here to judge. I’m not here to bother or tease you, I promise.«
Alyssé swallows hard. »What are you here for, then?«
»I want to take care of you.« He sounds so earnest, the implications of his tone make her feel a bit lightheaded. »I know you, Alyssé. Better than you’d ever care to admit. I know you’re not … feeling great about all of this. But we can work through it. We used to get along so well, remember? Let me help.«
He’s technically not wrong - she used to have a crush on him way before their parents ever got the idea to arrange their marriage. She genuinely liked him ever since they first met, back when they were toddlers, fighting over toys and children’s games and the attention of their nannies. She has been attracted to him since before she even learned what attraction was, and she knows damn well he’s fucking perfect for her, in theory, exactly what she needs, exactly what she should want. And yet …
He’s right, and it makes her even more angry.
»Goddamnit, you’re so insufferable«, she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she keeps stepping further away from him - and he continues to follow her. »The world does not revolve around you, you know? I know it’s hard to grasp with an ego as big as yours, but it’s a fact. I do have thoughts and feelings and problems that have nothing to do with you at all.«
»But I am, in fact, in your thoughts and feelings and problems, aren’t I?«
He takes another step towards her, she retreats once more, and suddenly, her shoulders hit the wall. She didn’t even realize they had crossed half the room up until now. Up close like this, just like his touch, Simón’s scent is inescapable; it seems to be clouding her mind, even now that he’s not wearing any perfume as far as she can tell. It’s probably just another way her senses developed after her transformations started - a heightened sense of smell typical for her kind. Nothing more, nothing less.
Simón lets himself fall forwards slightly, his weight pinning her against the wall as he holds himself up with one arm. She feels trapped, and at the same time, she doesn’t want to escape. Fuck, she doesn’t want him to stop coming closer and closer until there’s barely any air left between them.
His other hand reaches for her, and his fingertips come to rest just below her chin, raising it ever so slightly, forcing her to look up at him.
»Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me«, he says, his voice lowered, sending shivers down her spine. »I dare you.«
Alyssé could never resist a good dare, let alone one with such high stakes.
»I don’t want you.« It’s a trembling whisper, a stifled gasp, a straight-out lie. »I don’t want you at all, Simón. Not as a friend, not as a lover, and sure as hell not as a husband. I can’t stand you.«
For a long moment, Simón just looks at her. Then, he laughs. »Didn’t think you were such a bad liar, Aly. I must have overestimated you.«
Alyssé groans. »Oh, shut up. You’re such an-«
Before she can finish her sentence, he leans in closer, and it makes her stop right in her tracks. His lips are hovering just before hers, his gaze keeps flickering between her lips and her eyes, and she could swear his breath hitches, gets caught in his throat for a split second the same way hers does sometimes when he catches her off guard-
»Simón«, she whispers, her breath hot against his lips. »We should-« Her words trail off; suddenly, she doesn’t even know what she was trying to say.
First, their eyes meet for a long, lingering moment. No more flickering gazes, no more dancing around the truth. Just his gorgeous brown eyes fixed on hers, the tension between them singing a silent song of desire, setting fire to her heart - the kind of fire that seemingly comes out of nowhere and tends to spread way too fast.
Then, finally, their lips meet, too.
Alyssé couldn’t deny the impact of that even if she tried. A soft sigh travels from her lips to his, only to be swallowed by a kiss that’s just as thrilling as it is familiar; a kiss that feels like coming home and conquering new territory both at the same time. Before she knows it, she is tangling her fingers in Simón’s ridiculously beautiful hair, pulling him closer while tilting her head to the side ever so slightly, deepening the kiss she would never admit she was longing for.
When they break apart - both kind of breathless, but trying to hide it -, a smug smile is playing on his lips.
»If you can kiss me like this«, he murmurs, »dancing a chaste little dance to please our parents and charm the crowds shouldn’t be much of an issue, chérie.«
Alyssé rolls her eyes. »Absolutely insufferable«, she sighs. But soon enough, his lips are drowning her words in pure passion again, tongue catching hers in a bold move, inviting her to a very different kind of dance.
The moonlight doesn’t care, Alyssé thinks. She might let her guard down this one time, but really, it doesn’t mean anything to anyone, does it? It won’t. Not in the future she has laid out for herself. A future that doesn’t hold space for the fiancé her parents chose for her. This means nothing to the moonlight, and nobody else will know.