The One-Shots | D.O'B.

Apple Orchards / Bon Ives Songs* | Dylan

"That feels nice."

You smile down at the sleepy boy on your lap, his lashes fluttering shut as he sinks into the feel of your fingers through his hair.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. Yeah."

You resist a soft laugh as he wiggles a bit closer to you, his hands resting on his chest as you lean back against the bark of the tree.

Spending the day in an apple orchard is probably your favorite way to spend a day with Dylan. Between the hectic schedules and traveling, you rarely find a moment alone together. Especially one as intimate and tender as this one.

So, when he suggested you spend the day out in the fresh air and sunshine, you couldn't have agreed quicker.

You'd strolled through the orchard for a while, picking at some of the apples before finding a spot beneath one of the tall oak trees to relax for a bit and enjoy the scenery.

And now, with his head in your lap as you play with his hair, you realize you don't ever want to let this moment go.

"My pretty boy," you whisper, more to yourself, but don't miss the pull of his lips into a smirk. "What?"

"Nothing," he murmurs innocently, eyes still shut. "I like when you call me that."

"Yeah? Well, you are, you know. My pretty boy."

"Always."

His eyes open now, head rolling to the side so he can glance over your face adoringly and your expression softens when you see him.

He's happy.

Something you want for him more than anything. It's what makes you giddy. The idea that the man you love is happy and joyous.

It's all you want.

"You know what this feels like?" you whisper, eying the chocolate brown locks as they slip between your fingers. "S'feels like a Bon Iver song."

This seems to amuse him, his smile growing as he glances over your face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You hum to yourself contently before meeting his eye. "Like that feeling you get when you listen to one of his songs. It feels like that. Feels good."

His lips part for a moment, taking in your statement as he reaches up to brush a piece of hair from your face. "You feel like a song."

And you could honestly just melt right then and there, expression softening as you blush.

However, this sweet, gentle moment between you begins to shift on a dime as his fingers fall from your face and land on the hem of your white dress just beneath his head.

Confused, and a bit suspicious of his intentions, your brows pull together as you watch him pinch the material and pull it up your leg.

Uh oh.

Your fingers tug at his roots in warning as he begins to eye your dress with what you're sure are devious intentions. "Easy."

"Not doing anything," he replies casually, still tugging at the dress, but now attempting to tug it up.

"Dylan," you mumble a bit firmer, glancing around to make sure no one else is nearby. "Stop it."

The smirk returns as he's finally able to pull the dress up past his head and bunch it right near the top of your thighs.

Your now very exposed thighs.

"Dylan." Your hiss is desperate, eyes flicking toward a family walking around down near the end of the row. They don't seem to take notice of the two of you but you're cautious, nonetheless.