Renfaire, but Johnny somehow ends up outdoing you.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/84654001 hereâs a link to my one shot on Ao3!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Youâd finally worked up the courage to ask him at the end of the weekâhalf convinced heâd smile politely and make some excuse, because why would he want to spend a whole day sweating in costume and wandering a crowded fair?
Right.
Wrong.
He wakes you up before the sun even thinks about rising.
At first itâs just the creak of the bedroom door, the soft shuffle of feet, the whisper of fabric. Thenâfar too close to your faceâJohnnyâs voice, bright and barely contained.
âUp, love. Weâve got a quest today.â
You blink, squinting into the dim. The room is still blue-black with early morning, the kind of quiet where the world feels paused. And then your eyes adjust and you see him properly.
He is dressed head-to-toe in Scottish finery like he stepped out of a storybookâtartan kilt sitting perfect at his hips, sporran hanging neat at the front, tall socks pulled up with flashes, and a tweed jacket that looks almost too handsome for your tiny apartment. Even his hair looks like he did something with it, which should honestly be illegal at this hour.
Heâs beaming. Full grin, proud as anything, like heâs been waiting his whole life to show you this.
You barely have time to check the clock before heâs at your bed, arms full of clothing. Dresses. Belts. A skirtâno, two skirts. A bodice or corset-looking thing. A sash. He starts laying them out like heâs presenting treasure, then promptly shoves a matching color palette into your hands.
âI planned it,â he says, eyes sparkling. âWeâre coordinating.â
You canât help itâyou laugh, the sound rough with sleep, but warm. He looks pleased with himself in a way that makes your chest ache a little.
You sit up, rubbing your eyes, running your fingers through your hair and making it even worse. When you finally look back at him, his expression softensâlike the excitement caught up with the fact that youâre still half asleep. He pauses, guilt flickering for just a second.
âSorry,â he murmurs, voice dropping into something gentler. He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple, lingering like heâs trying to soothe you back into comfort. âI forgot youâre a light sleeper.â
And then, before you can even tease him for it, heâs goneâbounding out of the room with a quiet, âIâll get your coffee,â as if that fixes everything.
You drag yourself toward the bathroom, blinking against the brighter light. The mirror greets you with a sleepy, disheveled version of yourselfârumpled shirt, puffy eyes, hair doing whatever it wants. You start brushing it out with slow, heavy strokes, still trying to wake your brain up.
A few minutes later Johnny appears in the doorway again, warm mug in hand. The smell hits you firstârich, bitter, familiar. Heaven.
He leans against the frame like he could stand there forever, just watching. His eyes donât roam the roomâjust you, like youâre the most interesting thing in it.
Heâs always thought you were breathtaking. But you like thisâsoft, sleepy, realâdoes something worse to him. Something tender. Something that makes him quiet.
He sets the mug down carefully on the counter, then slides in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, solid and warm, and he nuzzles into the side of your neck like he belongs there. You feel his breath, his quiet hum of contentment.
âYou still smell like me,â he murmurs, almost smug about it.
âAnd you still need hobbies,â you mumble back, but youâre smiling.
He laughs against your skin and sways with youâslow, lazy, side to sideâwatching the two of you in the mirror like itâs a picture he wants to keep.
Eventuallyâbecause he canât just stand there foreverâhe tries to help you get ready.
Keyword: tries.
He insists on doing your hair. You sit, letting him gather it up with careful hands, fingers clumsy but earnest. He braids it with the focus of someone defusing a bomb. The result is⊠loose. A little lopsided. Strands escape immediately, framing your face like theyâre making a break for it.
He steps back, evaluates his work with serious intensity, then shrugs like it was his plan all along.
âCharm,â he declares.
You snort, turning your head to look at him. âCharm,â you repeat, because he says it so confidently that you almost believe him.
âThere,â he says, pleased. âPerfect.â
Then comes the outfit.
It starts simple enoughâa base layer, the dress. Youâre still waking up as you step into it, tugging fabric into place while Johnny hands you things like a very enthusiastic squire. Then a skirt. Then another skirt. He keeps producing layers like heâs got a hidden stash somewhere.
Belts followâone around your waist, another slung lower, then one more because apparently youâre collecting them now. The weight builds with every piece, warm and heavy, the kind of costume that makes you feel transformed and mildly indestructible.
Itâs a lot. Itâs always a lot.
But youâve been to renfaires before. You know the drill: layers, heat, crowds, walking until your feet protest. You can handle it.
Especially when you turn and Johnny looks at you like he canât believe youâre real.
That toothy grin returnsâbright, proud, utterly delightedâlike he did this not just to dress up, but to share something with you. To match you. To make the day feel like an adventure the second you step out the door.
And honestly?
If being wrapped in fabric and belts upon belts earns you that smileâif it earns you him looking at you like youâre the best part of the storyâ
Hi everyone, I've been quite busy but I've updated some of the Ersatz models, starting with the main cast. I made the old models in 2024 and I've learned a lot since.
Here's Mop. they have a part now!
There's more on patreon if you'd like to support the stuff I do, otherwise, the merch shop will be back up soon. Thank you again regardless!
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