Various X Male or Non-Binary Reader

Francis Bonnefoy - Lafayette

A/N just a little quickie for the day.
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Soft light poured through the curtains of my boyfriend and I's shared bedroom. The sunshine piercing the still air as I watched it cut through the makeshift darkness of our home.

Francis lay at my side his back to me as his long blond hair spilled out over our (c) covers. The golden locks making a waterfall of silky tresses before my eyes. Like liquid sunlight. I reached my hand over running my fingers through the fine gold.

I looked over to my nightstand. Quietly searching through the mess of my objects until I found one of his hair ties. I smiled to myself and went back to the golden silk before me. I gently raked my fingers through his hair. Humming my favorite song to myself as I did so. I took a few strands in my fingers and began weaving the strands into an intricate braid he never had time to do.

Just as I tied it off Francis groaned in his sleep. I chuckled sitting up and stretching my form in the barely lit room. From the waist up I was bare, the crisp air striked my skin leaving pin pricks all over the bare skin. From the waist down I was still wrapped in a (country) flag blanket Francis got me for our anniversary. I mumbled incoherent sentences to myself as Francis flipped over to face me.

"Bonjour mon amour." I whispered to Francis. His deep blue eyes opened slowly as he stretched his arms in the same fashion I did, but beneath one of my favorite shirts. Which he had the tendency to steal, especially on nights I was away.

"Bonjour beau." He whispered. I smiled and leaned over lifting his bangs and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"How did you sleep?" I asked. He smiled and say up next to me, bruised skin poking out from beneath my t-shirt. I smirked to myself knowing he'd have a fit over the marks. Not that the scratches down my back weren't just as bad.

"Heavenly near you mon amour." He hummed. I smiled as he shivered bringing his French flag blanket over his shoulders.

"It's freezing in here." He pouted. I chuckled scooting over to him wrapping my arms around his form, then pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Better?" I asked. Francis shuffled into my hold a little more, taking as much heat as he could.

"Oui." He mumbled. My eyes grew wide. And Francis knew what he did.

"Don't you dare-"

"Ah, oui oui mon ami je m'appelle lafayette-"

"Stooop-"

"The Lancelot of the revolutionary set!" I laughed.

"I hate yo-"

"I came from afar just to say; Bonsoir!" I sang as Francis squirmed. I tightened my hold around him, laughing as I sang my favorite song from my favorite musical.

"You know I despise that trash!" He yelled.

"Tell the king, Casse-toi! Who's the best? C'est moi!" I finished. I could hardly stop laughing as Francis pouted at my ridiculous singing.

Thing is in my favorite musical. There is a character, who happens to be my favorite character. Named Lafayette. A Frenchman I loved.

And being Francis was French, obviously, I had the horrible habit of bursting into Lafayette's musical numbers. Which as you could tell; aggravated my beau partner very much.

"I hate you." He mumbled. I only laughed to myself pressing a kiss to his temple again. He sighed. Rolling out of my hold he stood from the edge of our bed and stretching once again. I looked over his figure that looked ever more amazing in the soft glow of the sun peering through the curtains. The braid I'd done looked fantastic in the light, looking that of a golden broach upon a betrothed woman's heart.

"You know how much I love your hair right?" I asked. He looked over and warily ran his hand over the braid I'd done.

"When did you braid my hair?" He asked.

"This morning. It looks good on you." I said. Francis smiled.

"I didn't know you braided." He said. I shrugged.

"You never let me." I said. He rolled his eyes sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Cause I thought you'd tie it in knots." He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. But swiftly swooped over my lover, straddling his waist.

"I'd never." I said in the most seductive tone I could.

"Hon hon, getting frisky are we? Hm?" He asked resting his wrists over my shoulders, grazing the already beaten skin.

"Maybe." I hummed.

"Well, I'd love to put this braid to the test." He hummed.

"So, how about round two?" Francis asked. A small smirk playing his devilish features. As my own played, but for another reason.

"Lord tell me how to say no to this, I, don't know how to say no to this." I sang.

"You and your putain de musical references!"

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Let's just say I did not get a round two.

Thankfully we have a very comfortable couch...

A/N
R.I.P @ me.
Allergies suck.

Don't forget to comment ideas or requests in the comments or at my personal.

Thanks,
Dan