ㅤㅤㅤ⎯ ㅤ𐙚 your general refuses to kiss you, but you always get your way. ⌇ princess!reader, tall general lilia, secret relationship TEHEURIGUEHEH
“Princess, I cannot kiss you.”
The general’s tone was as cold as ever. Standing tall, his posture was poise and proper compared to the royalty seated on the bed with swaying legs and a certain mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
Lilia’s gaze was stern and sharp, locked onto yours without wavering and yet all it took was a soft tug from your delicate hands for him to sigh in defeat; he follows you to your bed, making sure the door was closed shut. It would mean hell for the both of you if anyone were to witness your intimacy.
“It’s not wrong for a girlfriend to ask her boyfriend for kisses.”
He always had a soft spot for you and really, who could blame him? You always looked so adorable and gorgeous whenever you got whatever you wanted. Those perfect smiles and precious laughter make his heart pound rapidly against its cage. As much as he hated to admit, the feared General Vanrouge was a weak man against his princess.
“No, it is not, but remember, I am not your lover at the moment. I am simply a general protecting her highness as she makes her escape from the ball.”
Lilia stared at you, his gaze now softened with a defeated look before crossing his arms and leaning against one of your bed posts. You couldn’t help yourself and admired the man’s figure towering yours, batting your eyelashes up at him with a smile you can’t quite control.
You held his hand and swayed it back and forth slightly, laughing softly when you heard another one of his sighs; you knew you’ve won. You always do. He always let you.
“Balls are boring,” you hugged his arm and leaned against it comfortably. “I’d rather spend time with you.”
The man exerted a sigh through an exhale, tilting his head to study you clinging onto his arm. His hand caressed yours before gently intertwining your fingers together, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand as you looked up with beautiful crescent eyes.
You were rather attached to him, he could tell. Lilia didn’t know when the lines between a general and a princess begin to blur and every night he was ashamed of himself for falling, but he couldn’t deny the flutters in his stomach, the smile that naturally stretches on his lips, and the ache pounding in his chest. Everything he felt for you was real.
The general used his free hand to caress your heated cheeks, brushing back your hair so he could admire every detail of your features that effortlessly captured his affection. You, however, whined a little, immediately pulling away and placing your hair back to framing your face as your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment and shyness.
“It’s prettier this way.”
A quiet mumble escaped you and Lilia blinked in stoic confusion. Chuckling, he gave your head a soft pat before crossing his arms again, this time leaning back against your bed post with amusement.
“My princess is prettiest whenever.”
He did it again. He flirts perhaps once a decade—which shouldn’t be that long in terms of fae years, no?—and this was one of the times. This was one of the times where your eyes would widen and your lips part in shock, freezing in your seat as your heart swooned in ecstasy before throwing yourself onto him and nuzzling in close.