one shoulder skirt

Heels (Lafayette x Reader)

Word Count: 3000 even (YES. BE PROUD.) Request/Summary: “Can you do 55,57,58 with Lafayette x reader please?”- @zoemonster200​ Warnings: I dropped the f bomb so many times in this the entire city is in ruins, some diet smut, fighting/arguing/yelling, that should be it. let me know if I left anything out.

A/N- Ruby ( @whatdimissmotherfuckers​ ) helped me out with french translations and became my thesaurus for a bit lol. Thank you Ruby. AND. Lafayette is just a tall curly haired bag of salt in this fic. Be warned. ALSO. Please give feedback! I love to hear from you guys!


Shit. He was in love. He sure as hell didn’t want to be. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

“I don’t think you understand John. I can’t sing.” You told your freckled friend, entering the room with the three boys and Eliza Schuyler. “Agreed.” Lafayette said, snapping out of his daydream. Damnit. How was she so beautiful?

“Fuck you.” You growled at him.“You admitted it.” He sneered. “I was just confirming your suspensions- how you say? Oh, suspicions.”

“Shut up you two.” John flared pulling out a chair a sitting down. “Somebody’s in a bad mood.” You muttered, hopping up and sitting on Lafayette’s counter. “Off the counter.” He grunted. “Hmm.” You pretended to consider his request. “Nah.”

“Get. Your butt. Off. My. Counter. L/N.” He gnarred. “I’d rather not.” You smirked, swinging your legs. “Off the counter!” He barked, thrusting your shoulder backward. “No!” You retorted, shoving him back.

“C’mon (Y/N). Off the counter.” Alexander groaned. “I’d rather not have you two get into a fight again.”

“Again?” Eliza asked, the newest and most innocent of your friend group. “It was ugly.” Hercules answered, glancing toward her momentarily.

You sighed and slipped off the counter, strolling around the peninsula to sit next to John. Lafayette couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping downward as you walked away, your hips swinging. You taunted him relentlessly, and you didn’t even know how much you were tormenting him. His jaw clenched, how could he let this happen? Of all the girls to lose his heart to, it had to be the one who hated him most.

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anonymous asked:

THE OLE DADDY QUESTION ASK PLS TURN IT INTO A BLURB

Here is the ask in question. I got a few heart palpitations while writing this, hope you all enjoy it :)

The first time you called Harry ‘daddy’, it was quite an accident.

You had come home from a night out with some friends, not drunk but not exactly sober either, and Harry had surprised you by loitering in the kitchen when you staggered through the door. He had been fixing himself a midnight snack before bed, dressed in nothing but a tight black pair of Calvin Klein’s, licking his lips before he gave you a slow lopsided smile and welcomed you home. Your slightly sloppy ‘hello’ kiss had turned into two, and then three, deeper kisses, Harry’s brief squeeze of your waist turned into his hand cupping and squeezing your ass, and it wasn’t long after that that you found your back against a wall. With your blouse hanging off one shoulder and your skirt hiked up past your hips, Harry mouthed at your neck and teased your slit with the leaking tip of his cock, his half made sandwich utterly forgotten. Ignited as you were with your lust, your brain fuzzy from alcohol and Harry’s body pressing hard into yours, the words had fallen from your panting and kiss-swollen mouth before you even realized you’d said them.

“Harry…mm, yes…fuck me, daddy.” Your eyes had blinked open when you realized that Harry had ceased all his movements, and you looked right into his confused and mild eyes.

“….did you just call me…’daddy’?”

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