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letters-from-dekarios · 17 days

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tolerate it

summary: you and gale were growing apart. your usual cute routine slipped into becoming a mundane list of tasks you did, and the tension was slowly rising. it was high time something snapped between you two, it was just a matter of when.

or: you and gale get into an argument that ends.. badly.

word count: 2.8k

tags: established relationship, gale x gn!reader, angst, abrasive language, based on ‘tolerate it’ by tswift, lyrics used loosely, part of the mystra hate club

Gale Dekarios. Notorious ‘Wizard of Waterdeep’. Your boyfriend and the love of your life. You had been together for years now, you knew each other like the back of your hands.

There wasn’t a thing separating you from one another- until now. Until he started investing his time more and more into his studies. Until he started going away and into the weave for nights on end. Until he started ignoring you.

You had a nice routine going for a while. He’d get up, make you breakfast, and you’d start the shower for him. He’d get ready and you’d set the table, prepped with the dishes your friends gifted you when you moved in together. You’d go out to get the paper, and he’d be waiting for you to solve the latest crossword puzzle. You were always by his side, whether it was helping him point out certain notes in his books, or simply existing by him. Sometimes he’d cling to you, too, as you practiced in your artwork. If he had to leave for a while, you’d have dinner ready and made for him. Sometimes you’d do nothing at all and everything in the world together. You were inseparable.

But now? Now, that routine turned into daily tasks. Those tasks soon turned into chores, and finally, you dreaded waking up in the morning, only to feel your heart break over and over again. You tried to bring it up, tried to tell him how neglected you felt, but it was met with apathy, a wave of the hand, a “we’ll talk about this later”. You couldn’t bring yourself to up and leave- not after all the time you had spent on him. On together. Whatever your concept of “us” had become.

Today was no different than every day for the last three months. You sat at the table, watching Gale read over the paper you begrudgingly brought in. You watched his chest rise and fall unceremoniously, unfazed by the world around him. When he was done, he got up, put his dishes away, and left for his study to get back into things.

He didn’t even notice you hadn’t touched a thing on your plate.

A few hours went by, Gale left to go to the library, and you waited. You waited like a little kid, hoping that this time- this time would be different. This time he would come back and welcome you with open arms, this time he would kiss you like he used to, this time would be happy. This time he would love you.

He was gone for a few more hours, you made dinner, and you waited. Again and again, you waited. You waited for him to come home, to become the man he used to be. The longer you waited, the more he strayed from the path you thought you were on.

The day came and went, you made no move to attempt to talk about it. You were just tired of it all, now.

As you fell asleep, your back to his, you vowed you were over it. You swore to yourself that you were no longer going to sit and watch him, waiting idly for the day that he turned back around. You were not some lovesick puppy who, no matter how many times you were kicked or hit, continued to seek love from someone not willing to give it. You were done.

You didn’t get the paper the next morning. You didn’t set the table, or start the shower, you didn’t do anything you usually did. You got up, you got yourself ready for the day, and that was that. You needed time to think of how to approach him, so you went off to your area of the house and started working on a painting.

You were only left alone with your thoughts for a short time, though, before they were harshly interrupted.

“Why isn’t the table set?” He asked, his voice cold and fierce like he was lecturing a pet who’d done something wrong.

“Because I didn’t set it.” You answered, equally callous. You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing his words out of your mind. He wasn’t going to affect you. You swore on it. You vowed it.

“And why is that?” Why is that? You know why that is. You almost retorted, but instead, you took a breath and shrugged your shoulders.

“I didn’t feel like setting it.”

“Right. Of course.”

A hush fell within your space, you wondered if he was still there behind you. He was. You only knew from the loud sigh he let out, his footsteps trailing away and back out into the hall, that he finally left. You heard the dishes slam into the sink and his door smash shut. It shook your supplies. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream- at him, at the world, at whatever changed him in such a way that it created this monstrosity before you.

You did everything for him, everything to bring him happiness and comfort, and you were left with what? His disinterest in you?

Was it your body? Were you no longer enough for him? Was it the sex? Did you not satisfy him anymore? Or had he simply grown tired of you altogether? Would nothing you did change anything at all?

He left after a while, and you broke down. Your tears landed in the paints below you, your portrait of him becoming something vile right before your eyes. You hated it. You despised this. This was your home, too. You were supposed to belong here, and yet you felt like a stranger in the space you created with your own hands.

You were waiting for him when he came home. Not with dinner, not with the paper, or with the table set. You were waiting for him with nothing but your words and a desire to leave. You couldn’t keep doing this anymore.

You stood in the foyer, waiting. Time passed slower than ever. You sat in the kitchen, waiting. The moon rose over the hills. You moved to the couch, you lit candles. You went to bed, he wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there.

Your sleep was restless, colder than ever, harsher than the last few months had been. Your desire to leave nearly slipped away. Would you rather be unhappy and in his presence than sleeping soundly? Was that what it came down to?

He was there when you woke up, sat at the kitchen table with his breakfast and the paper.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” You stated, watching as his eyes scanned the words. He didn’t look up at you.

“I didn’t come to bed.”

“I know.”

Silence. You wanted so badly to break it, to smash it with a sledgehammer and send the shards flying across the room.

“Gale-“

“Can we do this after I’ve eaten?”

“No, we can’t.”

No. Had you ever told him that word before? Had it ever slipped off your tongue in the way it just did?

“No?” Now he looked at you. Now he acknowledged your presence, taking up space in his world. Now he let you back in. Only for this.

“I’m done waiting to talk about this. You keep pushing me off- pushing this off. I’m done breaking at your feet and being disappointed that you won’t sweep me up, Gale.” You stood tall, strong. You focused on him, yet kept the image of your happiness ahead of you.

“What kind of a metaphor is that?”

“A damn good one!” You raised your voice at him. You raised your voice at him.

“Don’t shout at me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Silence. Was this what you wanted? Was this how you wanted to do it?

“Fine then. Let’s talk.” He pushed himself out from the table, standing and facing you directly. The deck was in your hands, it was your turn to deal the cards. Had you shuffled them in your favor? Was fate leaning in your direction?

“Fine then.”

You took a breath, thinking of all the time spent on him— spent doting on him, reassuring him, adoring him with everything you had. Then your mind turned to all the times he’d done the same for you. So far and few in between, clarity hit you harder than ever.

“I’ve been doing everything for you for the last few months and this is how you return the favor?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and despair.

“You’ve hardly done everything,” he retorted, your anger boiling over.

“Every day- every damn day, I wake up and I get the paper, I start your shower, I set the table. When you leave, I clean the house, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten, I make dinner, I wait for you- I waited for you all night.” Your voice started to shake, but you steadied yourself.

“If it’s all, somehow, in my head- please by all means tell me now. Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. You act like I’ve done nothing for you when I do everything in the world.”

“And I haven’t done the same?”

“While you were out building other worlds, where was I? When you spent hours on end away from me, where was I? What did you do when you got back? Where’s that man who threw blankets over my barbed wire? Who’d come home and shower me with all the love in the world because he missed me?”

“I still love you.” He tried to interject, but you were past it. Your words were flowing faster than you could think, you had spent so much time cooped up with your thoughts that it all just came out at once.

“No, Gale. I made you my temple, my mural, my sky— now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life. It’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore. You haven’t kissed me in months, we haven’t had a meaningful conversation in weeks. It’s like I’m always taking up too much space or time,” you didn’t want to sound like it, but gods were you begging for him to just return to you.

“Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’ve just been busy. It’s not like we’ve been arguing. We’re fine- there’s been a lot going on,” He sighed, your heart breaking more with every defense he made.

“Really? You assume I’m fine but what would you do if I—“ you cut yourself off, choking back a sob as tears welled in your eyes. How could you say it? How could you even dare ask that question after all you’d been through?

“If you what?” He demanded to know, crossing his arms over his chest. He only wanted to know for himself, not for you, not for your “us” that was slowly crumbling at your feet.

“Break free from this- from us- leave us in ruins? You’re twisting this dagger in me time and time again, Gale. What would you do if I took it and removed it?” Your voice cracked as it raised, your hands gesturing with your words. He looked shocked, almost, that you would even suggest such a thing.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Believe me, I could do it!” You exclaimed, turning and grabbing a bag you had ready nearby in case things went south. You held it up to show him how serious you were about the situation.

“Y/N.”

“I know my love should be celebrated and yet- and yet, you tolerate it. I greet you with a battle hero’s welcome, I take your indiscretions all in good fun, I sit and listen— every day. Every day. And instead of loving me, thanking me for everything I do for you, I get ignored, tossed to the side like I mean nothing to you. You tolerate everything I do like I’m a burden to be around. You expect me to be able to just carry this weight of your disregard for my existence around like nothing. Well, I can’t carry it anymore.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, you noted his expression shift and change as he realized the significance of everything going on. It was like he was seeing how badly he screwed up just now and needed to stall to find out how to fix it.

“Don’t leave-“

“I’m done!”

“Y/N.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder, pushing past him and heading for the door. It hurt. It hurt more than anything in your life ever had but in a small, tucked away part of your heart, it felt better than ever.

“Y/N!” He raised his voice, you nearly stopped, but you kept going.

He called your name again, but you blocked him out. You blocked it all out- the damage, the outrage, the apprehension. You had no idea where you were going or what you were doing next but you didn’t care. You were free and you’d be damned if you weren’t happy about it.

Except it wasn’t that easy, of course it wasn’t. It never could be.

Suddenly, you were back in the house, unable to move. You were stuck in place, an emblem glowing around you. He cast a holding spell. You wanted to kick and scream and claw your way out, but you were helpless. You were nothing in comparison to him— did he have to make you aware of that?

“You wanted to talk. I hardly got a word in at all.”

You were released from the spell, not daring to look him in the eye. How could he? How dare he?

“How dare—“

“Don’t start.” He warned, his voice lowered to his seriousness. You became afraid. Afraid? You’d never been afraid of him. Afraid of losing him, sure. But afraid of him? Never. Except for now.

“My sincerest apologies go out to you for feeling this way. But I would never-“

“And yet you did!” You cried out, holding yourself together. You couldn’t pick yourself up if he just kept smashing you to pieces like this. You swore you could do this, that you would do this, but he was making it harder by the second.

“You can’t just leave like this!”

“I can and I will, goddamnit! I don’t want to be with someone who will never give me the peace of mind or recognition of my love that I deserve!”

“For Mystra’s sake..”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“I’m not bringing anyone into anything. Nothing is happening! You’re not leaving!”

You both stared at each other, eyes narrowed with frustration at one another. You wanted this to be over. You needed it to be over.

“You know what, Gale. It’s really nice putting two-and-two together. Because ever since you started slipping away into the Weave, you’ve gotten more and more distant.”

“Don’t say what you’re about to say, y/n. You’ll regret it.”

“Oh? Will I? Will I regret it as much as I’ve regretted these last few years with you? Had I known I’d be standing here, begging to be let go, I would’ve never touched you in the first place. I would’ve never even laid eyes on you if I knew that, eventually, you’d let Mystra take hold of you. That you’d let her back into your life how she used to be— tell me, Gale, did you intertwine your soul with hers in those hours away? Did she convince you I was wrong for you? Did she steal you from me, or did you give yourself up willingly?”

He was silent, you had your answer.

No more waiting, no more serving hand and foot, no more. None of it. You gathered yourself up off the floor once more, straightened yourself out, and walked right out the door again. He didn’t try to stop you this time. He didn’t fight it.

Part of you wished he had, that he’d answer you in a way that fit the sad reality you wanted to twist. That it’d turn out he was just busy, that he was stressed and didn’t want to talk about it, and that he’d apologize for everything. Part of you wanted to find comfort in his arms, sob into his chest about how sorry you were for fighting, that you’d both do better. You yearned for him so badly that you were almost willing to turn around and give it all up again for him, but you didn’t. You valued your peace more than him. It would be an adjustment, you knew, but you could do it.

You could do it with a broken heart.

And in a few years, when you’d eventually cross paths again, you’d be happy. You’d have your peace and your love, and you’d be able to show him that you were worth it. You were worth the time and effort he could have put into you but didn’t. You’d be able to show him what he missed out on, and you wouldn’t be sad, or upset about it. You wouldn’t revert to that night, you’d stay the same, changed but strong, person you’d become.

Your love would be celebrated, not tolerated.

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herlondonboy · 11 months

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Oh, My, Love Is A Lie

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader / Taylor Swift x Joe Alwyn

summary: The one where Taylor falls out of love with you and in love with her PR boyfriend.

warnings: PR relationships, lmk what else. Is it weird that it’s Joe? idk. No way in hell am I writing about yk who though

word count: 0.9k

You were at home again.

At home alone whilst Taylor was off gallivanting with Joe. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Joe, he was nice and shared a few qualities of your own, it was that he was going on dates with your girlfriend. The part that probably pissed you off the most was the fact that when Taylor’s team had suggested a fake boyfriend to divert everyone’s attention from the two of you she agreed instantaneously.

You knew she wasn’t embarrassed by you per se, but the fact that she had already made up her mind on the matter before she spoke to you about it hurt.

Four years together were ruined by a photo of a kiss on the cheek that Taylor blamed herself for. She had let her guard down and loved you in public and now you were both paying the price.

The soft hum of the television was the only sound apart from your rapid beating. You stared down at the velvet box in betrayal before opening your phone to the messages from the night before, double-checking the time you had agreed on.

You: Are we still on to celebrate tomorrow?

Taylor: Yes, of course!! 10 pm, right?

You: Yep. See you then, I love you!

Taylor: Love you

You looked at the clock on your phone and sniffled, 00:13. It wasn’t even your anniversary anymore. A sigh sounded and you stood to go to the dining room. The dinner you had made Taylor was still on the table so you moved it to the oven just in case she got home and was hungry.

Next, you made haste with removing the wax that had melted onto the table. They Taylor’s favourite scent and you sniffled in remembrance before tossing them into the bin.

The television was still on as you found the bedroom. Plastic rose petals littered the floor in a way that looked random, but was anything else. You wondered if she’d even notice if you left before she got back. Probably not. You put the petals back into the bag that they came in and chucked them on the bed before walking over to the wardrobe.

You didn’t blame Taylor. You were nobody and Joe was somebody. Okay, maybe you did blame her a little bit. But she had fallen in love with someone who didn’t even love her back whilst the person that did love her watched from their home.

Four years gone. And for what? She let her insecurities get the better and now you were insecure. Constantly blaming yourself for being the reason she latched onto Joe. Had you seen the cameras sooner, she wouldn’t have kissed your cheek and she wouldn’t have needed the PR relationship in the first place.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door creaking open and a small curse followed by skin slapping against the floor, “y/n, baby, are you awake?” She called out and you walked back into the lounge, frowning when she grinned at the sight of you. Taylor saw your look and pouted, walking over to you, “I’m sorry that I missed our date. I just got a little carried away at the studio.”

“It wasn’t a date,” You said softly, looking up at her, “And I wish that was true, but photos of you and Joe leaving the studio were published hours ago.”

Taylor tried to think of a response before just looking down guiltily. At least she still felt enough for you to feel bad, right?

“It was our anniversary,” You continued, a lump forming in your throat. “And I tricked myself into thinking that you wouldn’t stand me up for Joe on a day as special as this, but I was so wrong.”

“Y/n,” Taylor murmured, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time, but I can make it up to you. I promise, just let me try.”

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the coffee table. Taylor followed your line of sight and gasped, covering her mouth. Picking it up, you held it out to Taylor, who took it regretfully.

“I love you, Taylor, and I always will, but I can’t be with someone that doesn’t love me back anymore. The way you look at Joe now is the way you used to look at me,” You explained. “And I wondered if you actually got here on time and we celebrated our anniversary would you have said yes?”

The look on her face said all. She knew she was falling out of love with you, too.

“Don’t worry,” You said, knowing that you didn’t want her to feel even worse, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

“Y/n, that’s not-“ Taylor stammered, “I would- I would marry you. I just… I didn’t mean to.”

Sniffling, you nodded. People don’t control who they fall in love with, unfortunately. If they could, you wouldn’t be blaming yourself. A weak smile graced your lips and you leaned forward to hug the blonde, “I love you, Tay, and I want you to be happy. If that means Joe, then so be it. I’m sure, I’m sure he does love you back. You’re hard not to love.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, “I really did love you.”

Can’t you see that your words are hurting me? You wanted to scream at her. She was trying to comfort you and was failing miserably.

#elijah writes #taylor swift x reader #Taylor swift #taylor swift imagine #taylor x reader #taylor x joe #Taylor swift one shot #one shot #fanfiction #taylor swift fanfiction

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widowsistersandfriends · 4 months

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I Saw Taylor Kissing Santa Kloss

Summary: Karlie and Taylor have a secret meet up, leading to the rekindling of their relationship. However, when things start to go right, there's always someone spoiling the fun.

Notes: I had this idea for a while and decided to write it out and see how it goes! Merry Christmas Eve to those who celebrate, and happy holidays to everyone! (PS, there are 27 lyric references for you swifties!)

Also thank you @thenigotthisfamily for helping me brainstorm these ideas! Thanks for loving kaylor as much as I love you 😘

Word Count: 3797

Warnings: There's some swearing and kissing, and of course tickles, so if you are uncomfortable with that, please do not read.

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Streamers hung from the ceiling. There was glitter on the floor. Lights were strung around the giant mansion. Mistletoe was wrapped around the staircase banister. Lastly, there was a large, decorated tree with a red carpet wrapping around it. This mansion belonged to the one and only: Karlie Kloss.

This year, Karlie was throwing a massive Christmas party with all of her friends and family. Security was lining the front, checking the list of guests that were expected to attend. Karlie was busy touching up her makeup and then began setting out the charcuterie platters.

A cozy, yet festive atmosphere took over the house. The smell of gingerbread cookies filled the air as the timer on the oven went off. This party was gonna be one for the century.

Guests started arriving at the door, including Karlie’s sisters and closest friends. Each guest came with a present, as they were participating in a gift exchange. Karlie was wearing a short, sleeveless red dress, showing off the body of a true supermodel.

After about a half hour, all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. Drinks were being downed, snacks were being consumed, and games were being played.

Karlie was in the middle of her turn for truth or dare, when one of her security guards asked her to come aside.

“Karlie, your guest is here,” the security guard whispered, leading her away from the crowd.

A confused look formed on her face, brows furrowed as she was certain everyone on the list was there.

“Hey where’d Karlie go?” Her sister asked.

“I bet it’s her man Josh who just arrived,” someone chimed in, as the group oohed in unison.

Karlie was led to the front door, fear and caution in her small steps. Unlike her, the security guard seemed very relaxed, reassuring Karlie that this wasn’t what she thought it was.

“She wants to meet you in the garden,” the security guard said softly, guiding Karlie gently outside.

“No! I refuse! I don’t even know who it is! My life could be in danger!” Karlie shouted, backing away.

A familiar shadow appeared into the light. The tall, strong build was nothing new to Karlie. As the mysterious guest stepped through the light, a dark green long sleeve dress was revealed.

“It’s me, hi,” a soft spoken voice was revealed.

“Taylor?”

Taylor looked around sheepishly, avoiding eye contact and giving a little wave.

Karlie stared at her for a moment, not saying a word. Taylor dared a glance, looking up into those half moon eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?” Karlie asked, shattering her glass on the white tablecloth nearby.

“Wait I can explai–,” Taylor was cut off.

“NO! YOU LISTEN HERE! I have spent years trying to get in touch with you. I even attended your concert for crying out loud! And what do I get? NOTHING!” Karlie shouted, her voice echoing through the mansion.

Taylor looked taken aback, knowing that it was true. She knew Karlie had tried, but sometimes you just don’t know the answer till someone’s on their knees. Oh how she wished Karlie was right now, but it wasn’t the right time.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?!? You come all the way to my house and crash my party to just sit there and not say anything?!?” I SAID SPEAK NOW!” Karlie shouted, almost out of instinct.

What came next was unexpected for both of them. Taylor burst out laughing, hearing the difference in how she had sung it in the past.

“Karlie, what was that?” Taylor asked through hysterical giggles.

Karlie opened her mouth to answer, before a stream of her own giggles spilled out.

“Trust me, I’ll lead you to the garden,” Taylor said, gently grabbing Karlie’s hand.

The two girls put on their coats and walked to the secret garden gate, where Taylor snuck in through every night that summer to seal her fate. Now in the present day, she was experiencing her fate.

“So…chilly night isn’t it?” Taylor asked, now feeling the silence settling in.

“Yep, gets pretty cold here in New York during the winter. Of course, you wouldn’t know since you’re spending all your time at Chiefs games,” Karlie said, with a bite of passive aggressiveness behind her words.

“You really think I want to be there?” Taylor asked, scoffing a bit.

“Well what am I supposed to think when I open up social media and you’re popping up everywhere with that ugly dude,” Karlie said, as the two of them finally arrived at the garden gate.

“Look, I…,” Taylor trailed off. She wasn’t sure how she should explain this.

“Go on,” Karlie said, as Taylor punched in the code to open the gate to Karlie’s secret garden.

“I just got caught up in the moment I guess. I like being pursued, I like having the attention. I now realize it was all a money gimmick and that there’s a difference between being pursued romantically and just whining,” Taylor explained, letting out a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Karlie asked, encouraging her to elaborate.

“Well, going in I didn’t realize I was just gonna be this big green dollar sign for the NFL. And then I just got sucked in to the attention Travis was giving me that I didn’t realize how awful it looked. He just whines and blasts me on his stupid podcast about not taking his bracelet? I’m sure there’s many people who would love to give me one, and there I was giving in to this guy just because he whined. What lesson am I teaching to the young kids who look up to me? That you’ll get your way if you whine enough?” Taylor asked, as the two had now entered and walked into the garden for a bit.

Karlie pursed her lips, thinking carefully about what to say next.

“You knew I was chasing you,” Karlie said after a small moment of silence.

“What?” Taylor asked.

“Oh don’t play dumb. You literally told everyone in your vault track. You know, that line about you turning into a shrouded mystery when I was chasing you?” Karlie asked.

“Oh yeah, I remember that like it was yesterday,” Taylor said.

“I guess what I’m not fully over is the fact that you were so careful with us and I didn’t get any of that kind of publicity when I chased you. I knew you liked being pursued, and I was the one of the few who did,” Karlie said angrily.

“My mom said it was for the best,” Taylor said quietly, knowing she was cornered.

“IT’S ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK IS FOR THE BEST,” Karlie shouted, pointing aggressively towards her.

“Karlie.” Taylor said, it that oh so even tone of hers. She knew how to calm her down.

“I know you’re mad at me, especially for showing up to your party. But I did want to know. Would you have me? Would you want me? Would you trust me?” Taylor asked, hoping the reference would ring a bell.

“Betty,” Karlie said softly.

“Karlie Elizabeth Kloss. You must live under a rock if you thought I wasn’t thinking of you all these years,” Taylor said, smirking slightly.

“But nobody knows. Everyone thinks you’re happily in a relationship with Travis and that you guys are getting married and everything,” Karlie said.

“No one has to know…” Taylor said.

“Are you hinting that in the middle of the night I appear in your dreams?” Karlie asked, cracking a small smile of hope.

“Oh yeah, they’re some of my wildest dreams,” Taylor said.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Karlie asked.

No matter how confident the greatest singer and songwriter of this century was, Karlie never failed in making her blush. This time was no exception.

I..um, forgot,” Taylor said, reverting into her awkward self.

“You sure about that?” Karlie asked, tilting her head slightly and moving a step closer to Taylor.

“I’m sure Karlie,” Taylor scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“How evergreen our group of friends huh?” Karlie asked, poking Taylor’s side, referring to her dark green dress.

Taylor jumped away, avoiding eye contact and not saying a word.

“You know, there’s a party inside,” Karlie said, indirectly inviting her inside.

“How are you gonna pull this off?” Taylor asked.

“The dress or you crashing my party?” Karlie asked

“Both. You know I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” Taylor said with a smirk.

Karlie got her security guards to clear everyone out, saying that the party was over and that Karlie needed the house to herself.

“Now this party’s just for us,” Karlie said, getting wine for both of them, and handing the glass to Taylor.

The two were sitting at a small table across from each other, enjoying their drinks.

They glanced up at the same time, both getting a feeling of familiarity.

“Reminds me of the video that Vogue took down on your birthday,” Taylor said with a giggle.

“I remember you yelling at me that I couldn’t look at the paper,” Karlie said with a playful eyeroll.

“I demand a rematch of the arm wrestle,” Taylor said, fiercely placing her elbow on the table.

“Oh? You want to lose again?” Karlie said, placing hers as well.

“Shut up and fight me,” Taylor said with a competitive glint in her eyes.

“3..2..1 go!” Karlie said, the two of them going at it. Taylor was much stronger now so it was a much closer match.

The two of them were both giggling as the match went on, Taylor now reaching under the table to squeeze Karlie’s knee, causing the other blonde to yelp and lose her strength, resulting in a win for Taylor.

“That’s cheating!” Karlie cried, scooting her chair back from the table to avoid any more tickles.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Taylor said, flexing and kissing her bicep to rub it in Karlie’s face some more.

“Real mature,” Karlie said while shaking her head and grinning.

“Yeah, I’m flexing like a goddamn acrobat,” Taylor said while giggling.

The two of them relocated to the couch, now snacking on one of the many charcuterie boards.

“All right, spill the tea,” Karlie said, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth.

“What?” Taylor asked.

“I know you’re hiding more. Come on, feed me,” Karlie said with a smile.

“I just…I see the media. I see everything that’s posted. I know the truth, and everyone else doesn’t. They picture us as this perfect couple with no flaws, but there’s only so long I can lie to the public and you know I don’t like doing that,” Taylor sighed.

“I mean, they’re partly correct. You have zero flaws. That dude though? Don’t even get me started,” Karlie said with an eye roll of annoyance.

“Oh but you’ve gotten me started,” Taylor said, making a stack of crackers, meat, and cheese.

“I hate his hypocrisy. He goes and blasts the NFL for milking our relationship, and then does the same exact thing on his podcasts and interviews by dropping my name every chance he gets,” Taylor complained.

“And you know, you once said if a man drops your name then you owe him nothing.” Karlie said with a smile.

“Literally. I’m dealing with these rough emotions after what happened in Brazil, and he’s making it about himself. Like I feel like I can’t even grieve without him looking for clout and attention,” Taylor ranted.

Karlie nodded, allowing Taylor to speak her feelings.

“Like I get that we’re popular and good for ratings and media, but does he seriously have to make it that obvious that he’s an attention seeker?” Taylor asked.

“Well, he knows he’s benefitting from this more than you. He’s gonna milk that cow till it’s dry unfortunately,” Karlie replied.

“It just got so out of control. Tabloids started publishing articles that we were gonna get engaged on my birthday,” Taylor said, as Karlie snorted in amusement.

“I’ve seen you out in public with him. You are not a good actress,” Karlie said while laughing.

“It’s just hard when it’s not natural. Like when I giggle and sit in your lap, or give you that look when walking down the runway with you. All of that was so natural and my face gave it all away,” Taylor said, now breaking eye contact.

“You could’ve been a Victoria Secret model if you weren’t so dang good with words,” Karlie said.

“Well, what can I say? Words are kinda my thing,” Taylor chuckled.

“OH! And don’t even get me started on Twitter,” Taylor said, chugging her glass of wine.

“The whole shebang about how his old tweets were wholesome?” Karlie asked, refilling both of their glasses.

“YES! I do not get how people think a person who can’t spell basic words is wholesome. AND THEN, they cover up all the awful things he said in the past,” Taylor said, getting a little angrier.

“What did he say?” Karlie asked.

“Well you can thank our fans for finding it, but basically he called people retarded, made fun of gay people, called women breeders AND made fun of people with eating disorders. Something I suffered from for so long because I never felt I was skinny or fit enough. That hurts, and you know I don’t stand for all those other things he said,” Taylor said, staring into Karlie’s eyes.

“You know we’re in very similar situations. In relationships with guys who don’t match our values and views. Josh and I have very different values and people question the relationship as well. And fuck him for saying all that. It’s hypocritical for him to call people retarted when he can’t even spell simple words,” Karlie ranted.

“I just feel like it takes away all the credibility of all that I have spoken out about. I speak out for women not only in the industry but all women. I support gays and wrote YNTCD to show my solidarity. I spoke out and wrote YOYOK about my eating disorder and how I overcame it. But now everyone is gonna think I don’t mean any of it because of his conflicting views,” Taylor said with annoyance.

“I know it’s frustrating since it kinda questions the credibility of your statements, but you have no idea how much power you have. You are on top of the world right now. If you want this to end, that decision is in your hands,” Karlie explained.

“I just feel stuck. If I break up, everyone is just gonna keep going on about how I can’t keep a man and how I lead the world in most breakups. Then, if I don’t, I’m gonna be stuck with this moocher,” Taylor said, thrusting her head back into a pillow.

“Or…you could be stuck with me,” Karlie suggested, trying her best to keep her bold facet.

“W-what?” Taylor stuttered.

“You and me. We’d be a big conversation,” Karlie said while smirking.

“But what about Josh? And the kids?” Taylor asked.

“Josh already knows he’s a beard, but he got his wish of having kids. And I absolutely adore the kids, but Josh isn’t really there for them as much as I’d like if I’m being honest,” Karlie said with a sigh.

They sat in silence for a moment, both with thoughts whirling through their heads at 100 mph.

“I know you’re still mad at me,” Taylor said softly.

“I’m not really. At least not as much now. I was mad at the sudden drop off and the lack of acknowledgement at your tour, but I couldn’t help feeling so proud of you when you announced 1989 TV. I still remember when I was the first person to listen to the original album,” Karlie said longingly.

“I knew you were there,” Taylor said quietly.

“Oh, did you?” Karlie asked.

“Why do you think I kept looking up there that night? You’re kind of a giraffe Karlie,” Taylor said teasingly.

“Like that time you kept pointing to me during the Rep Tour during Dress,” Karlie said with a wink.

Taylor rolled her eyes, knowing that she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“But you know, I still stand by my statement. You belong with me,” Karlie said, shifting closer to Taylor on the couch.

Taylor blushed and looked away, cheeks burning.

“Are you impressed that I actually know your lyrics? Unlike some Burger King looking dude,” Karlie said, making Taylor burst out laughing.

“I am. I’m also impressed by your charisma,” Taylor said, reaching for Karlie’s hand as a gesture for accepting her love.

“Awwww, look at you. You’re always so confident when you’re performing. What’s wrong?” Karlie asked, smirking at Taylor.

“You know I can take my word back, right?” Taylor asked, giving Karlie a look of warning.

“Alright fine, I’ll tease you later,” Karlie said, now getting up to put stuff away.

After washing up, the two of them were back on the couch again, both in comfy pajamas.

The two of them were still drunk, and were both a lot more bold than before.

“Ugh my feet hurt. Massage them,” Taylor said, thrusting her bare feet into Karlie’s lap.

“Fine,” Karlie said, sighing with a smile.

“Oooh yeah that feels good. This would be so nice after I perform. My feet always hurt so bad,” Taylor said, adjusting herself on the couch.

“So I’m just gonna be your servant?” Karlie asked playfully.

“At least you’ll be a hot servant,” Taylor said, squealing as Karlie ran a nail up her sole.

“Kahaharlie! No!” Taylor said, sounding more childish than usual.

“No what?” Karlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Taylor said, regaining her composure again.

“You’re still ticklish huh?” Karlie said, now using one hand to hold her feet down and the other to tickle up and down her arches.

“NOHO IHIM NOHOHOT,” Taylor laughed, trying to pull her feet away.

“Laughing with my feet in your lap~~” Karlie sang teasingly, making Taylor blush.

“STAHAHAHAP,” Taylor shouted, sitting up to hit Karlie on the shoulder.

“Oh no, you’re in for it. Don’t think I forgot about how you cheated during the arm wrestling match,” Karlie said, moving quickly and pinning Taylor to the couch with her arms above her head.

“IM SORRY,” Taylor shouted immediately, knowing that Karlie was going to destroy her.

“Hmm, I accept your apology but that doesn’t exempt you from punishment,” Karlie said, now using her nails to lightly scratch over Taylor’s sensitive armpits.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA KAHAHAHRLIHIHIE PLEHEHEHEASE,” Taylor laughed. Nothing was more embarrassing than this.

“Yes?” Karlie asked, grinning like a devil.

“IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES,” Taylor squealed adorably.

“That’s the point. The point is to make you suffer from this awful sensation and laugh so I can see that beautiful smile of yours,” Karlie said, now leaning down to blow a raspberry on her neck, earning a loud squeal.

Karlie repeatedly blew raspberries on her neck while clawing and tickling away at Taylor’s sides.

“IHIHIHI GIHIHIVE,” Taylor screamed, as Karlie relented with a triumphant grin.

Taylor laid there, panting in recovery.

“You are the absolute worst meanie head on earth,” Taylor said, as Karlie laughed.

“That’s the best you can come up with, lyrical genius?” Karlie teased, poking Taylor’s tummy.

“Stoppppp,” Taylor whined, curling up into a ball.

After Taylor recovered, she couldn’t help but question if Karlie was also ticklish. If she had ever tested during all those years she could’ve gotten so much revenge.

Taylor reached out slowly, and gently poked Karlie in the ribs, earning a jump from the taller blonde.

“Stop being a pest,” Karlie said playfully, scooting away from her.

“What did you just call me?” Taylor said, pulling Karlie into a tickle hug, clawing at her ribs.

“AHAHAHA AN ANGEHEHEL,” Karlie lied, unable to defend herself, as her arms were trapped.

“That’s not what I heard. And anyway, if you called me that I would be rolling my eyes, not tickling you,” Taylor said, as she moved her hands towards Karlie’s shiny abs.

“NO! NOT THEHEHEHERE!” Karlie laughed, cursing her muscles for being so ticklish.

Taylor dared and wiggled her finger into Karlie’s belly button, earning a jolt from the supermodel and a loud plea of laughter.

“There is nothing I do better than revenge~” Taylor sang teasingly.

“TRUHUHUHUCE!” Karlie cried.

“Hmm, I don’t know…You did a lot worse to me,” Taylor said, now getting up and sitting on Karlie’s shins.

“Now tell me. Does this tickle?” Taylor said, running her nails all over Karlie’s inner thighs.

“YEHEHEHES NOW STAHAHAHAP,” Karlie squealed, unable to kick or protect herself. Taylor was very satisfied when she ran her nails over her inner knee and got Karlie to curse.

“WHAHAHAT DOHOHO YOHOHOU WAHAHANT,” Karlie screamed.

“Nothing, I just find it hot when you’re laughing and helpless,” Taylor said with a shrug, making Karlie blush while still laughing.

Eventually Taylor let her up after tormenting her for a little bit longer.

“Your hair is a mess,” Taylor teased, as if she wasn’t the same just before that.

“You’re still worse than me,” Karlie said while rolling her eyes.

“Uh huh.”

“You know, don’t people usually kiss under the mistletoe?” Karlie asked.

“Is it too soon to do this yet?” Taylor asked.

“You’ve already sat in my lap before, so I may as well be Santa Kloss,” Karlie said, as Taylor laughed at the ridiculous play on words.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Taylor said, as the two of them were now under the mistletoe.

“Me too,” Karlie growled, as the two leaned in. However it was stopped quickly when Karlie said she forgot her Santa hat and how it wouldn’t be ‘Santa Kloss’ without it.

The taller blonde returned quickly, causing Taylor to giggle at the ridiculous situation.

“Now, where were we?” Karlie asked.

“You were being horny,” Taylor teased, as Karlie pinched her side, causing her to yelp.

“No, you’re the one talking about how long you’ve been waiting for this,” Karlie refuted.

“You’re mine,” Taylor stated, leaning up to passionately kiss Karlie. Taylor placed her hands on Karlie’s ass, feeling the familiar toned shape she had felt before. Karlie let out a soft moan of satisfaction, making Taylor’s lips turn upwards during the kiss.

“What the hell is going on?!” A familiar voice rang throughout the house after a couple of minutes of making out.

Karlie turned around quickly, as both of their eyes widened at the sight of Josh and the kids.

There was a moment of silence before one of the kids spoke up.

“I saw Taylor kissing Santa Kloss!!”

“Shade never made anybody less gay. We’ve got some men to dump,” Karlie said quietly to Taylor before walking towards Josh to handle this.

To be continued…

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reminology · 9 months

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i have a taylor swift fic idea and it's based on the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, but i am TOO lazy to do it 😭

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natsxwife · 9 months

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OK PEOPLE!! I desperately need good Taylor swift or Scarlett Johansson/ Natasha Romanoff Stories! Idc if it’s wattpad, Ao3 or whatever but I need some that aren’t oc!reader 😫 please suggest some!!

#natasha romanoff #taylor swift x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson fanfic #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #taylor swift fanfiction #taylor swift x fem!reader

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disastercomingfaster · 30 days

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Never Alone-A Taylor Swift Imagine

I guess I've mentioned here that I've been going through a rough time right now. Well, like every normal person, I decided to take my own experiences and cope with them by making a sad Taylor Swift imagine. Please proceed with caution, this does have themes of suicide. I hope you enjoy.

Sobs shook your body as you desperately debated your next move. You have the sleeping pills on the passenger seat, completely ready for you to take the final step. Is this what you wanted? It sure seemed like the best option; the pain would end, right? At least it’s supposed to. But that opened a whole new anxiety. What was after? What if it was worse? What if it was nothing? You punched the steering wheel in frustration. Why not just go back to Taylor? Back home? Forget about this whole thing and cuddle up in bed? “You don’t deserve her.” You cried, punching the wheel again. “You don’t deserve anyone. You’re a piece of shit.” You practically jumped when your phone started to vibrate. Shit. Did she already find the note? She wasn’t supposed to find it yet. You tried to ignore the ringing and take the pills. This was for the best for everyone…right? Your phone buzzed again. Taylor. Shit. You set the pills down, trying to get a hold of what was the next move.

Read the full story on AO3

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fanficbarbie · 8 days

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❝ fortnight ❞

A/N: have y'all heard TTPD yet? This chapter was already mostly written but hearing Fortnight featuring Post Malone heavily influenced the rest of it. Can't wait to see if the Swifties can point out the references. unedited so ignore any mistakes. i hope yall enjoy. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv previous chapter

─⋆♡ chapter summary: Michael and Liberty go on a date. well, sort of.

─⋆♡ main tropes: Michael B. Jordan x Fem!OC, Rome Flynn x Fem!OC, Damson Idris x Fem!OC. Bodyguard x Princess, Secret Service x First Kid, forced proximity, forbidden love, tolerated enemies to lovers, college romance.

─⋆♡ chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, eating disorder, angst, 18+ black!writer, language, blood (mentioned), alcohol (mentioned), torture (mentioned), hostages (mentioned), threatening (more like some warnings but that's subjective), weapons (mentioned), physical descriptors (brief discussion about being black in america and body descriptors), characters affected by symptoms of anxiety or depression, lmk if i missed something.

series masterlist ✰ faceclaims ✰ libby’s cabinet ✰ spotify playlist⋆ word count: 5.7k ⋆

Michael

The deep vibration on my watch jolts me awake letting me know the guard’s shift change is in progress. My surroundings immediately catch me off guard. The faint morning light shines through the sheer curtains and the smell of vanilla wafts through the room. My entire body is sore and I groan at the shooting pain in my knuckles when I adjust my arm to check my notifications. I should’ve taken some painkillers before smashing my fists into that dick’s face.

Surprisingly, my watch isn't on fire with messages. I sigh and let my arm fall back onto the bed, maybe a little too hard, because Liberty’s warm body shifts next to me. She rolls over until she’s facing me, getting comfortable on my bicep. Her breathing remains slow and even, letting me know she’s still fast asleep.

I take the time to memorize every detail of her face. It’d be a miracle if she ever let me this close to her again unless she’s under duress.

It’s not as if I don’t already know everything about her. I know what she’s allergic to, every broken bone she’s ever had, and every person who’s had the pleasure of fucking her. And that’s not just because I’ve been assigned to her in exchange for my freedom.

Ever since her picture floated across the metal table on the 30th day of my torture in the same basement we had been in last night, I became obsessed with her. They trained me like a dog, only feeding me and allowing me to rest when they were telling me controlled information about her.

The name ‘Liberty Washington’ became my beacon of light but remained a subconscious part of my original makeup. The one that reminded me that she is my prison. But my obsession with her continued when they released me. Since they only showed me the photo of her once, I used all the resources available to me to obtain the information they hadn’t given me.

If I were trapped by a 20-year-old for 4 years, I would know how she presented herself to the world.

My eyes wander down from her forehead to her chin, categorizing every part of her warm smooth skin. Her doe-eyes are softly shut and her long lashes splay out against her high cheekbones. She exhales a light sigh from her plum-colored lips and I fight the desire to wake her with a kiss.

She is by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. No one can hold a candle to her, even when she’s asleep and isn’t trying. I attempt to smooth the mess of hair secured on top of her head with bobby pins, but all I’m left with is a sticky substance on my palm.

My touch wanders down to her cheek, caressing her face with the back of my hand. Her breathing hitches momentarily before her eyelids begin fluttering. She hums, nuzzling into my skin. “Mmm that tickles,” she complains.

Shit. She doesn’t want me touching her and I can’t touch her. She doesn’t even want me in her bed. I silently scold myself again for waking her after the traumatic night she had last night. “My bad,” I apologize, removing my hand from her face.

Her eyes snap open as she reaches out, grabbing my wrist. “No, don’t stop,” she whimpers with a scratchy voice.

I untangle our bodies and by the look on her face, I think she knows I won’t return to the action. Instead, I carefully untangle our bodies to slide out of her bed. “Go back to sleep, I need to shower,” I advise her.

She frowns before saying, “I don’t–”

“Don’t argue with me that you don’t need sleep. Those drugs may be out of your system but you're in withdrawal,” I cut her off, scolding her.

She opens her mouth to rebuttal but a shiver runs through her body like a wave. “And by the looks of it, shock. Fuck,” I grumble, pulling the covers up to tuck her into the bed. “I need to get to Jo before she gets to you,” I tell her, knowing that Jo will take one look at her and flip out.

As if I’ve jinxed it, the door to Libby’s room smacks against the wall. Jo barges in with her heels clicking against the floor with every step. Her displeased disposition emanates through the room when she simply states, “We need to have a conversation.”

So much for Liberty resting. “About what?” Liberty questions, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

Jo’s eyes flicker back and forth between me and Liberty. “Well now that I see your assigned agent half naked in your bed, we may need to have two conversations,” she snips. The cool air on my skin is enough to determine what she’s irate about.

Liberty groans, sitting up from where she was lying beneath me just moments ago. “We didn’t do anything,” she defends.

“It doesn’t matter. Agent Jordan, need I remind you of your contract? You are only permitted to touch Liberty in cases of emergency. If I report this to her mother, you can kiss your freedom goodbye,” Jo warns. I figured she’d be the first to rat us out if I ever pursued Liberty since she’s always up her ass.

I take that as a cue to get the fuck out of the bed and I take it, standing from the cool sheets. Liberty scrambles to the edge of the bed, swinging her feet over the edge. I glower at her in warning and she pauses, her toes hovering just above the ground. “No, Jo. Please don’t,” she attempts to plead despite me grounding her to her bed.

Displeasure covers Jo’s face and she turns around when all three of us sense shuffling in the living room. Jo shoos Liberty’s dressing crew away, shutting the door in their faces.

She groans into the wood, “Oh fuck, Libby. Please don’t tell me you’ve become a love-sick idiot in three days. You have a job to do,” and it sounds like a prayer more than a statement.

The air is sucked out of the room and Liberty quickly covers. “No, I didn’t. I just asked him to keep me company last night when I was drunk. It wasn’t his fault.

When I hear her words, I can’t help but feel something tingling in my stomach. What the fuck is that? Disappointment? No. Rejection? Who fucking knows.

“Michael, is that true?” Jo asks me to confirm Liberty’s accounts, bringing me back to the present.

Liberty’s deep brown iris connects with mine, silently pleading with me to keep the full details of last night under wraps. I return my attention to Jo, nodding with my lips pressed together.

Jo squints at the two of us and I can practically feel her scanning my soul for deception. Her face eventually softens and she sighs. “Why were you even drinking?” she questions Liberty.

“Because it was a Friday night and the gi–” Liberty starts before I cut her off by clearing my throat. The more she talks about last night, the more we’ll have to change the little details.

“How old are you, Libby?” Jo cuts the President’s daughter off.

“20,” she murmurs and I’m reminded of the immaturity that comes with her age.

Jo follows up immediately with, “And how old do you have to be to drink in the United States?”

“21, but,” she says and I can feel the excuse coming.

So can Jo because she stops her from continuing. “But, nothing. Do you see these pictures, Libby?”

“What about them?” Liberty counters.

“What about them? What about them?!” Jo’s voice raises with every passing second. She reaches into her bag pulling out a stack of newspapers. “Liberty Washington, you are the second black first family in this white house. So you already know you’ll be scrutinized more than former president’s daughters,” she rants, throwing the landfield into Liberty’s lap. “I don’t care if someone hands you a ton-sized bottle of champagne, you do not take it before you turn 21.”

Libby thumbs through the tabloids and I watch as the color drains from her face. She looks up at me and I truthfully have nothing to say to comfort her. This is the outcome of hanging out with those rich ass white girls. I shrug and she frowns, seemingly displeased with my lack of response.

Liberty sighs, removing the pictures from her lap and setting them aside. “Okay, I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

Jo’s face softens and she takes a step forward. “You know I don’t care, but the public does. Now we need to do damage control,” she tells her, sitting next to her on the bed.

“What type of damage control?” Liberty follows up.

“The type of damage control that does not present a hung-over, first daughter,” Jo informs her. She points between the two of us adding, “You two are going out.”

“Out? Where?” Liberty parrots.

Jo sighs standing from the bed. “Lunch. Somewhere well-lit where you can be photographed looking perfectly healthy and not looking like you just escaped death.” She begins typing on her phone and I assume she’s pulling up the closest approved restaurants in the area.

“Go shower,” Jo commands me and I nod, moving to exit from the room.

“I know Harry and Rowan are attached at the hip right now, but it’s worth a shot reaching out to them. Maybe we can fly them out to support you,” I hear Jo advise Liberty and my ears perk up.

“No. They’ve got enough going on right now,” Liberty replies and I glance behind me with confusion.

Who the fuck are Harry and Rowan. Those sound like masculine names and they did not come up on my search. How the fuck are they connected to Liberty. My Liberty. And how quickly can I find out everything I know about them?

The moment we stepped out of the car at the Italian restaurant 30 minutes ago, we got swarmed with cameras. The shuttering sound hasn’t stopped ringing out and I’m consistently triggered. The sound of photos being snapped sounds oddly similar to a knife being sharpened. My upper back carried a ton of weight when I quickly jogged over to Libby’s side of the car to let her out.

When slid out, black heels first accentuating how short her skirt was, a low growl bubbled to the surface. My instinct was to push Libby behind me to hide her but that wasn’t possible. We have one job today. To get her seen looking perfectly fine.

Now, I watch meticulously as Libby swirls the fork in the pasta dish on the patio, bringing another bite up to her lips. The lunch has been mostly silent; she gives me flirty glances and I return them with glares.

In flickering moments, I find myself feeling guilty for the way I’m treating her. How I’m keeping her at arm's length so she doesn’t learn the full truth. It’s fucked up that the person I want the most is sitting within grasp, but touching her means giving up my breath.

She’ll hate me if I tell her the truth about the deal and my obsession with her that came with it. She’ll hate me if I tell her I can’t be with her because touching her means my death follows swiftly. I can’t win.

I swallow thickly as Libby’s leg drags up the inside of my leg. My gaze lowers on hers and I feel a growl coming forward, “Lib, the fucking cameras.”

I knew this was a bad idea. As soon as I saw the date-like table placement, I should’ve requested we be moved. She bats her eyelashes and my jaw clenches. Those siren eyes alone could send any untrained agent into a spiral. Her charisma and confidence would’ve made her a shoo-in, in a different life.

“What? They couldn’t see that. And besides, I asked you a question, I was just trying to get your attention,” she manipulates the situation flawlessly so it’s impossible to be mad at her. Aside from the straggling tourists sitting at the nearby tables, the Italian restaurant is empty. Suddenly I feel even more guilty for forcing her to only chat with me.

I hold her gaze as I take a sip of water. “You have it, Lib. Always. What did you ask?”

She licks her glossed lips and I want to grab her throat and taste her tongue for myself. “Wanna play 21 questions?” asks suggests.

My brain races with how negatively this could go. She could ask me anything and I know I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Not because I was trained to see her as my savior, but out of respect. She deserves to know how she’s being used if she’s curious about it.

“Oh come on. I’m not going to ask you anything groundbreaking like the codes to the torture room,” she jokes and I tense. “I just want to know you a bit better,” she continues.

My mouth unconsciously counters with, “You know me already through the file Mommy dearest gave you.”

“I want to know what’s between the pages. Tell me something the government doesn’t know, Michael.”

Her tone is tempting as she leans closer to me, causing her breasts to practically spill out of her top. Against my better judgment, I survey my surroundings. A couple of sleaze bags stare a hole through Libby’s chest and I attempt to shove my irrational self away. “I’ll tell you whatever you want once you sit the fuck up,” the deep grumble slips.

Libby smirks, leaning back into her chair. Her fingers dance on her jacket, pulling it tight around her midsection. “Better?” she tests.

The urge to roll my eyes is intense but I nod, giving her confirmation. I shift in my seat, awaiting her first question when she blurts, “Okay, let me think…Oh, I know! What’s your favorite song?”

“That's your first question?” I ask slightly baffled. I expected her to come out of the gate swinging.

She giggles, and at that moment, I decide that it’s my favorite sound. “Well I knew you weren’t going to answer anything about my parents so I went with that,” she confesses.

The watch on my wrist flashes a bright light into her eyes and I adjust it when I see her squinting. “That’s a simple one, Lib. You just wasted a question. Sweet Sticky Thing by Ohio Players.”

I watch her as she processes the information, confusion washing over her face. “What’s a Sweet Sticky Thing?”

“Is that one of your questions?” I counter.

She shakes her head no, pursing her lips. “Good, it’s my turn,” I add.

A soft chuckle leaves her lips and I can’t help but smile. “Go off, king,” she directs me to proceed and I snort.

My brain mentally combs through her file. I know she wants to be a teacher, but I can’t fathom the reasoning behind being around snotty-nosed kids all day. She’d be good at it, though. Her bubbly aura is perfect for playtime while her stern demeanor will ensure her students learn. “Why teaching?”

I study her body as she looks heaven-forward like the answer is above her. “So I can go teach in a country where nobody knows who I am and I have no significant value to the people. It’s my ‘out’,” she tells me with air quotes around the final word once she’s found the answer.

I pop a piece of breadstick into my mouth, responding with a hum. The fluffy substance takes me a bit to chew, giving her the perfect opportunity to ask, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

She squints at me and her face scrunches with disgust. “Do you enjoy being absolutely predictable?”

My brows furrow, matching her facial expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I dig.

“Every man’s favorite color is black. You couldn’t have picked something unique like tangerine or gunmetal?” She scoffs like she’s bored with my response.

My arms slide together to cross, feeling instantly defensive. “I didn’t know my answers had to fit in with your idea of me, Lib,” I say.

She seems to notice my guarded body language, reaching across the table to grab my arm. The contrast of her cold hand against my skin sends sparks to my brain. At that moment, we both hear the shutter roll of a camera, presumably nearby.

She jerks slightly, but I make no move to acknowledge their presence. It’s what we’re here for, after all. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. Black is a great color. Suits you,” she stammers over herself.

Although I don’t uncross my arms, my upper body loosens up a bit as she returns to her sitting position. I chastise myself for wishing I could touch her; my head filled with all the things I would do with her. And that moment she made that joke over a fucking color, I wanted to bend her over my knee.

But I couldn’t.

She could take all of me, piece by piece. And it looks like she’s going to.

My craving to change the subject causes me to blurt out, “So since mine is so boring, what’s yours?”

“Tiffany blue. Can’t you tell?” she asks, gesturing to her long-sleeved shirt.

“Didn’t notice,” I lie.

I had noticed. In every picture I’d seen her in, she had some type of blue accessory. Her dress was the same color Friday night. And now, she’s a tight tweed dress with soft teal thread on the edges. I’ve counted nearly every stitching by now.

She licks her lips, eyes darting to her lap. Her whole body language shifts downwards with insecurity. Like she’s trying to hide her perfect face from me. “Well then,” she grumbles, obviously irritated.

Fuck. The last thing I ever want to do is make her feel like shit. “What’s your favorite animal?” I ask her, trying to get her mind off my previous statement.

Her eyes narrow and she nips, “It’s not your turn.”

“Well fine, you go,” I direct pointedly.

“What happened last night?” she asks.

My neck rolls with discomfort. “What part?” I ask.

A flash of sadness coats her brandy irises. “All of it? Start from the alleyway.”

I inhale sharply before sighing, “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, Lib. I don’t remember anything between knowing you were okay and seeing you half-naked in the basement.”

“That’s okay, we can fill in the gaps,” she shrugs as if it’s that easy. When I black out, I don’t remember anything, Liberty.

Hesitation overtakes my brain and I search her face and body for the truth. She’s slightly leaning forward with interest but she still looks a bit upset. Maybe this will help her. “When you passed out, I picked you up and carried you to the car. Called Damson on the way back in to get your fucking friends. Meredith is the only one who came back with me so I shoved her in the back seat with you. Told her to make herself useful and hold your hair while I shoved my fingers down your throat,” I rant.

I pause when she picks up her fork and it makes a clanking noise. “Keep going,” she commands.

So, I press on. “On the way back, I coaxed her into telling me about every person she knew. Then I told her the situation and told her to keep her mouth shut. I knew how to take care of the situation and I didn’t want her in it.”

Liberty starts nodding like she’s processing the information. “And then you took off,” she theorizes.

“No. I had Damson meet me by the front and get you checked out by the doctor. They said you just needed sleep so he put you and Meredith to bed,” I tell her, though I leave the part out about screaming in Damson’s ear the entire time to keep his shit together and take care of her. I wouldn’t have moved forward with picking them up if mine wasn’t okay.

Her nose scrunches. “While you went and got Vanessa and Teddy,” she hits the jackpot.

“I’d assume so,” I confirm.

She stares at me dead on and I feel my jaw clench. My heart begins to pound in my chest anticipating her next words. “Okay,” she utters after what feels like forever.

She begins swirling her fork into her past dish, prepping for another bite. My brows knit and my body doesn’t untense. “Okay?” I parrot. I was half expecting her to rip me a new asshole for my behavior.

She nods, looking over towards the hoard of paparazzi. The flashes are almost blinding as they take advantage of the perfect angle. When her face returns to my direction she nonchalantly adds, “Yeah. I don’t feel the need to know much beyond that. They’re both dicks.”

My brows raise in surprise and I feel myself slowly starting to agree with her. I could’ve done much worse. I wanted to do much worse. But, she stopped me and isn’t harping on it. “Touché,” I respond.

She smirks, bringing the prepared pasta toward her captivating face that I detailed just this morning. “Your turn,” she says before gracefully taking the bite.

My brows crease and I ask, “We’re still playing?”

“Yeah, I mean, we still need to be here for another 10 minutes. Might as well get to know each other,” she explains.

The point is I already know everything about you, Liberty. Maybe not the Rowan and Harry parts, but I’ll find out soon enough.

“What question don’t you want me to ask?” I question genuinely. Not only because I don’t want to piss her off, but because I can just find out without her knowing.

She blinks rapidly as if she’s trying to determine if I’m being sarcastic. After a couple of beats, she responds, “Don’t ask about my dreams.”

Why the fuck would I want to know about her subconscious. I only need to know the substantial things about her. My eyes to the crowd that hasn’t disapparated and grumble at her answer with irritation, “Okay, I won’t. Ever.”

When I return my attention to Liberty, she looks like she’s about to cry. Tears brim her eyes and it triggers a reaction in me I didn’t know I possessed. I feel confused by the urge to hunt whoever hurt her, but a wave of guilt knowing I might be the cause of her tears. “Why do you hate me so much?” she whimpers.

My hand goes up to scratch the scruff on my chin. “Look, I’m sorry for that—”

“It’s not that. I know we’re still getting to know each other and it’s only been a few days. But, you hate my guts,” She silences me mid-sentence with a sob that leaves me reeling.

I shake my head, telling her, “I don’t hate you, Lib.” I grab the menu closest to me, putting it up by her face to shield her from view. With my other hand, I reach across the table, wiping the tears from where they’re prickling in the corners of her eyes. The cameras snap, but none catch the simple action shared between us.

What I feel for her is far from hate. My desire will have me forever sprinting towards her. Even when she does eventually marry another man, I’ll still be chained to her. I’ll want to kill every lover she has and even then, the feeling will only be temporary.

My love for her will ruin my life.

She chuckles, releasing a bit of spit flying from her lips. “Then what? Cause you sure as hell don’t like me.”

My chest becomes heaving with anxiety. I touched her for only a night and she’s already crumbling me until I eventually wither away to nothing. “Lib,” I mutter in warning.

She sniffles one last time before straightening her back. The dreaded noise of the cameras doesn't stop once she’s in view again. If anything they only get louder. “You know what I think? You didn’t expect to like me. You were comfortable loathing me because you are chained to me for four years. But then you met me and I’m not ugly. I’m fun, talented, smart as fuck, and that scares you,” she boasts boldly.

The air is knocked out of my chest and my jaw drops slightly. My mouth snaps shut when I realize it’s the one thing I can’t tell her. Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine and she presses on, “It scares you how perfect I’d be for you, or am I wrong?”

I swallow thickly, prepared to confess my feelings for her.

She is what I want. She is what I need.

She is the love of my life and I’m sure of it. It might be clouded by quiet treason and I’ve never felt love, but I’d bet my life on it. Everything I feel for aligns with the emotions I’ve mirrored from others. And I’m going to make her mine one way or another. I don’t care if I have to kill every potential heir, get her pregnant, or marry her to get what I want: her waking up next to me every morning.

I open my mouth to answer when Libby cuts in. “Shut up. Don’t answer that. I don’t think I could handle knowing,” she snips before checking her phone. She grabs it and stands from her seat, letting me know it’s time to go. When I join her to exit the restaurant, I’m still reeling.

The heat in my feet sears up my calves as I run to the beat in my gym.

I’ve come to learn that Liberty and I don’t talk about things, we exercise. If there’s nothing for us to do and we’re avoiding conversating, we’re sprinting right next to each other. We’re running longer than average tonight, cementing the tension between us. We both feel it, but her attempts to put distance between the two of us are futile.

Being someone’s shadow has never felt so isolating.

The sweat drips from my face and I pick up a towel to collect the perspiration. I scowl, deciding we both need a shower before eating. My finger flicks the switch on the machine, switching to a cool-down mode.

My head turns to look at Liberty while I begin slowly jogging. Her face doesn’t twitch and she remains looking at the white brick wall in front of her. When I wave, she glances at me for half a second, rolling her eyes before returning her attention to the wall.

Anger bubbles inside my body and I mentally incinerate myself for being upset by not getting attention from a fucking woman. So, she wants to ignore me? Two can play that game.

A few more minutes of my cool down go by before I completely turn the machine off. I slowly wipe my hands and step off the machine, grabbing my bottle of water.

As I take a sip, I glare at Liberty. She seemingly senses me staring and her head snaps in my direction. “I’m not stopping,” she grumbles.

“You need to eat,” I instruct. If she thinks I don’t know about her little eating disorder, she’s out of her mind. The others might not have picked up on it, but the signs have been evident over the past 3 days. She’s so stressed, she barely eats and she runs to process that stress. Every time she looks in the mirror, she seems disappointed, like what she sees doesn’t match herself.

She crying out for help and I’ve been the only one to notice. Maybe that’s the reason her parents got her a guard; someone to keep an eye on all the kids.

“And I’m not taking out my headphones for you to bark orders at me,” she raises her tone and her voice reverberates off the wall.

Fuck, she’s hot when she’s mad. The growing semi in my pants doesn’t help considering I’m trying to get her to come with me in this situation, not argue with me.

I decide to take advantage of my desires this once, positioning myself directly next to her machine. Applying my dynamic balance skills, I step onto the edge of the treadmill. My left leg swings over to the other side of the belt until I’m standing still behind her with her running in front of me.

I exhale a deep breath before running through this plan. It’ll scare the shit out of her, but I’ll catch her.

“Liberty,” I husk lowly and she screams, tripping over her feet. My hands quickly grip her sides as she becomes dead weight, nearly falling face forward.

My thighs tingle in my squatting position, but she’s unharmed, so I let out a comfortable sign. She hovers right above the rapidly moving belt with her hands almost kissing it. Her extensions drag against the dirty material, giving me even more of an excuse to push her towards the shower.

My body doesn’t move, allowing her to internalize the fear of almost eating shit. Then, I slowly lift her, wrapping my hands around her waist until her back is pressed to my front. My legs swing over the belt once more until we’re both on the side of the machine, stepping down from the death contraption.

I swear I can feel her heart racing through her back as I grip her tightly, pressing my bulge into her. My nose inhales the delicious smell of her pheromones and I fight the impulse to taste her sweat.

I set her down on solid ground, prepping myself for the backlash before I remove my arms from around her waist. I decide to keep her close to me with my hands on her waist so she can’t hit me, limiting her to her tongue.

She slowly turns around to look at me, her cheeks a dark plum color. It’s clear she doesn't find the situation funny when she hits my chest with the palm of her hand. I look at her face and realize, I’ve unlocked a dragon.

She raises her voice to say, “Michael!” her voice cracks and she pauses out of breath. “What is your middle name?”

I smirk and look down at her. “Bakari, my lady. What’s yours?” I ask in return, hoping she’ll open up to me. After reading her file, I already know it. Including her most recent STI test, which is clean of course.

She ignores me, stomping over to the wall and yanking the plug out of the socket. She turns back to me with her siren eyes filled with fire. “Well, you know what? You can fuck off Michael Bakari Jordan. What the fuck is wrong with you? I could’ve fucking died. I was trying to get to know you and you fucked with me. From here on out, you can stick a baseball bat covered in nails up your fucking ass for all I care.”

She whips around with her back facing me, slowly dragging herself towards the door.

Damn. She used more F-bombs than I thought was even possible in one sentence.

I smirk and rush to stand in front of her, not wanting her to keep running away from me. This is only complicated because she’s making it hard for me. I want her, but I can’t have her because I can’t touch her. They’ll kill me if they find out but if she makes the first move, I’d be willing to risk it.

She doesn’t want to make the first move because she fears disappointing our country. And I have an inkling that she prefers aggressive men due to her ex history. It might also have to do with the dynamic of our relationship moving forward. All of the things I think about probably swirl around in her brain. Regardless, she still has to be the one to take that step.

My hands return to her sides, lightly gripping them. She shifts, snapping her thighs together but I can practically taste her wetness in the air from where I’m towering over her. There are no cameras in this room, so she is free to act irrationally, she just needs the perfect trigger.

I step forward, uncomfortably craning my neck. My head is directly above hers and her eyes widen from what I assume is our proximity. “You need to stay healthy. Don’t do that to me, Lib. You can be mad at me, but you can’t not take care of yourself in avoidance of me. I will not control you, but I will not watch you disintegrate without being able to do anything about it,” I plead for her to internalize my words.

This is the most vulnerable I’ve been with her about my feelings for her thus far, and I’m hoping she reads between the lines. The air between us crackles and my eyes search her face, awaiting her response. Her eyebrows momentarily stay scrunched before she slowly relaxes her face.

“You could’ve gone about that a better way,” she huffs, still breathless from running and the shock of falling.

My thumbs slip underneath her cropped tank top and I stroke her damp skin. “And I’m sorry for that. I’ll explore other methods of getting your attention later,” I attempt to hint at the things I want to do to her.

My eyes flicker down to her lips and her pink tongue pokes out to lick them. A low groan emits from my chest. That should be enough of a trigger. She should know that she’s fucking me in the head by refusing to jump in head first.

She glances down at my lips before whispering, “If I do this; if we do this, it stays here. I just need to know.”

My eyebrows raise and I ask, “Know what?”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “If it’s real,” she responds.

Her hands come into view, sandwiching my face between her hands. My blood rushes in my ears anticipating our lips touching. She closes slowly and starts to close the space between us and just before our lips touch, the door to the gym smacks the walls.

She jumps back, putting distance between us and my heart drops into my stomach. Dread rushes through my body and the reality of my decision hits me. If I turn to face the door and it’s not someone we can sweet talk, we’re both fucked.

As if we’re not fucked enough already.

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jerry-for-the-win · 7 months

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If you’re ever in the mood to read a really good fic on ao3 you just have to filter the tag “based on a Taylor swift song” and suddenly you’ll just have incredible works of art.

#it works every time #don’t forget to sort by kudos too obv #fanfiction #ao3 #taylor swift #taylor swift fanfiction

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from-sprinkler-splashes · 1 year

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The Show Must Go On

The early afternoon sun filters through the gauzy curtains, casting a soft glow over the plush hotel room. Taylor lies curled up under the covers, lost in a deep sleep when her phone starts ringing, jolting her awake. She fumbles for it on the nightstand and groggily answers, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hi" she mumbles, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, but still not able to open her eyes and struggling to move her body, she puts her phone on speaker in the pillow next to her and takes a deep breath.

"Hey love, how are you?" Joe's voice came through the phone, soft and gentle.

"´m so tired," she replies, sinking her head back in the pillows, not able to form a full sentence just yet. But still wanting nothing more than to hear his voice and talk to him. Days after a late night playing a three-hour concert should be spent doing nothing but sleeping in his warm arms, there is no doubt there. And that had been the plan – he was supposed to be there that weekend in Vegas, but filming had been moved a few weeks back, so they had to be separated for a little bit longer. He hadn’t even been able to watch the show yet. She lets out a loud yawn and cuddles herself further into the warm bed.

Joe chuckles. "Sleeping in until 4 in the afternoon, huh? You must have really tired yourself out last night." He´s used to her sleeping habits; she´s definitely not a morning person. But he has to admit that today she set a new record, he has been trying to call her for at last two hours now.

Taylor can't help but smile at his teasing. "Yeah, I guess I did." He then asks her about the show, and she starts telling him all the details about the crowd, how loud they were, and how much fun she had performing. As she spoke, Joe couldn't help but notice the raspiness in her voice and the occasional sniffle.

"Are you feeling okay, love?" he asks, concern creeping into his voice.

Taylor hesitates for a moment, then shrugs it off. "Yeah, I'm just still a little tired, that's all."

Joe isn't convinced, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he suggests she makes herself some honey and lemon tea and takes it easy for the rest of the day.

"Take care of yourself, love," he says, his voice soft with affection. "I'll talk to you soon."

Taylor smiles to herself as she hangs up the phone. Even from thousands of miles away, Joe always knows just what she needs to hear. She snuggles back under the covers, and starts dozing off again.

______________

The next few days, Taylor takes it easy and tries to rest, but there are still meetings with her team to go through feedback and polish up parts of the show. Despite feeling a little under the weather, she pushes through rehearsals.

On Tuesday afternoon, Andrea, Scott, and Tree come to check on her in the middle of the dance rehearsal. Taylor greets them with a small smile, but Andrea immediately notices the tiredness in her daughter's eyes.

"You look exhausted, honey," Andrea says, placing a hand on Taylor's arm.

"I'm fine, Mom," Taylor replies, "it´s just a little cold."

"Have you been taking anything for it?" Tree asks.

"Just some over-the-counter stuff," Taylor answers, shrugging her shoulders.

Scott frowns. "Maybe you should take a break, Tay. You don't want to push yourself too hard."

Taylor shakes her head. "I'm okay, Dad. We still have rehearsals to go through."

But as the day went on, Taylor began to feel worse. Her body ached and her throat was scratchy. She tried to ignore it and push through rehearsals, but her voice was becoming hoarse and she had to stop frequently to cough.

Andrea watched her daughter with growing concern. "Maybe we should call it a day and let you rest."

"I can't, Mom," Taylor protested. "We have so much to go through before the show tomorrow."

Andrea sighed. "I know, but your health comes first. Let's go back to the hotel and you can rest for a bit. We'll pick it up again tomorrow."

Taylor reluctantly agreed, feeling guilty for slowing down the process. As they made their way back to the hotel, Andrea chatted with Taylor about other things to take her mind off the stress of the upcoming shows.

______________

She is lying in her bed, sniffling and coughing, with her phone in her hand, talking to Joe. "I'm just so worried that my voice is going to give up on me in the middle of the show," she says, her voice hoarse.

Joe's reassuring voice comes through the phone, "You'll be amazing. Just take it easy, drink some tea, and rest your voice as much as possible. You got this."

As Taylor is talking to Joe, Andrea enters the room with a tray of soup and medicine. Taylor looks up at her, her face full of concern. "Mom, I don't want you to get sick too. You need to stay healthy," she says.

But Andrea just smiles and places the tray on the nightstand. "Don't worry about me, sweetie. I'm here to take care of you. I promise I´m okay”. Taylor looks at her hesitant, knowing that her mother's immune system is still compromised from her current treatment. She really doesn't want to risk getting her mother sick.

Suddenly Taylor's phone buzzes again with a message from Tree, reminding her to take it easy and rest her voice. Taylor rolls her eyes, "I know, I know. I'm doing my best." She knows everybody means well and obviously they all want her to get better, but she just feels so much pressure and everybody nagging on her and trying to take make her feel better it´s just adding up to that and making her feel even more nervous.

Andrea sits on the edge of the bed and places a hand on Taylor's forehead. "You're burning up, sweetheart. You need to rest," she says with concern in her voice.

Taylor tries to sit up and get away from her mother´s touch, and as she is about to tell her to not get close to her again, Andrea looks at her sternly and gently pushes her back down. "I'll take care of you. Just relax and let me do my job."

Taylor watches as her mother fluffs her pillows and tucks her in, making sure she's comfortable. "Mom, you don't have to do this. I'm fine," Taylor protests.

But Andrea just shakes her head, "I'm your mother. It's my job to take care of you. Now, eat your soup and take your medicine. And stop arguing."

“Thanks, Mom.” Taylor whispers quietly, giving her a small smile as she hears Joe´s light chuckles at their interaction.

As Andrea leaves the room, Taylor looks down at the tray of food and medicine. She takes a sip of the soup, enjoying the warmth and comfort it brings to her throat. Joe's voice comes through the phone again, having been watching the whole interaction through the phone screen "Hey, you didn’t tell me you had a fever".

Taylor sniffles and takes another sip of soup, "It´s not that bad. I´m just so worried about tomorrow." He looks at her worriedly trough the phone. Her eyes are so small, red cheeks, even redder nose, bed hair so messy and her favorite cat pajamas. He knows he should be there. Knows that there´s nothing worse for her than to feel the pressure of thousands of people having paid a ticket to see the show when she doesn’t feel capable of doing it. And he just wants to be there for her, to hug her and comfort her and make her feel better.

"You're going to be amazing, love. I know it. And if your voice gives out, we'll just have the crowd sing the songs for you instead." He tries to loosen the mood and hears her chuckle through the screen. He is glad he´s been able to get a smile out of her, even if it´s small. The last days have left her so stressed that he just wants to try and light her up a little bit.

They continue talking for a while, Taylor sipping on her soup and sniffling occasionally. Joe tells her stories of the past days and funny moments on set, trying to keep her mind off of her cold and the upcoming performance. Eventually, Taylor's energy starts to wane, and she knows she needs to rest.

"I think I need to get some rest," she says, starts to feel her eyes getting heavy and her voice starting to fade.

Joe's voice is soothing, "Get some sleep, babe. I'll talk to you tomorrow before the show. And remember, you got this."

______________

She wakes up slowly, feeling like a truck run over her body, but luckily her fever has finally broken overnight. Taylor takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down, knowing that she has to push through and deliver a great show tonight. So, she gets up and makes herself some tea with honey, hoping that it will magically, somehow, make her voice sound better. She can't help but worry about how it will hold up during the three-hour show, and knows that it probably won’t, but she tries to stay positive, knowing that there´s nothing more she can do now than to try and save as much energy as possible.

She arrives at the venue early for rehearsal, and is greeted by the sound of the band warming up. Tree comes to see her and ask her how she´s feeling, reminding her to stay on total vocal rest until showtime. She nods and tries to smile and ease everybody’s worries a little bit. During rehearsal, she watches her team work through the songs, mentally taking notes on where to focus her energy during the show. She feels a bit restless, wishing she could sing and test out her voice, but she knows that resting is the best thing for her right now.

As soundcheck begins, Taylor follows along silently, watching her dancers and bandmates perform their parts. She moves her lips along with the words but doesn't sing out loud, trying to preserve her voice as much as possible for the show.

But about halfway through, Taylor starts to feel worse. Her head is hurting terribly, and her energy is draining fast. She pulls her team aside and tells them that she needs to stop the rehearsal early to rest and save her energy for the show.

"Hey guys, I'm feeling a little run down," she tells the small crew of people. "I think I need to take a break." Her team obviously understood and encouraged her to take all the time she needed to rest and feel better. Taylor spends the rest of the day taking care of herself, sipping on hot tea and honey, and using throat sprays and cough drops to soothe her sore throat.

______________

Taylor wakes up from her nap, feeling slightly disoriented. She opens her eyes and blinks a few times, trying to get her bearings. She notices that the lights are dimmed in the dressing room, and the room is quiet except for occasional muffled sounds of people talking outside. She feels warm and cozy under the blankets and doesn't want to get up.

Suddenly, she feels a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. She jumps a little, surprised by the sudden touch. She turns around to see Joe standing next to her, a small smile on his lips.

"Hey stranger," Joe whispers, leaning as he bends down to kiss her on the forehead. Taylor blinks her eyes open and squints, trying to make sense of the figure in front of her. It takes a few seconds, but when she realizes who it's, she lets out a gasp.

"Oh my God," she says, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asks, still trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep.

"I came to surprise you," Joe replied, his arms wrapped around her. "I wanted to see my favorite artist” Joe grins at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Taylor's heart swells with affection as she gazes into Joe's warm brown eyes. She feels a sudden rush of energy, invigorated by his presence.

"I've missed you so much," she says, pulling him in for a hug. "I'm so glad you're here." They embrace for a long moment, savoring each other's warmth and closeness. Taylor feels a sense of comfort and security in Joe's arms, as if nothing in the world can touch her. She can feel his warmth seeping into her body, and she feels herself relaxing into his embrace.

They sit like that for a few moments, just holding each other. Taylor feels herself starting to drift off again, but she forces herself to stay awake. She needs to get ready for the show, and she can't afford to be late.

"Okay," Taylor says, pulling away from Joe's embrace. "What time is it? I need to get ready." She says, dreading having to get up and away from this warm embrace.

Joe nods, understanding. "Don’t worry, you still have two hours left before the show starts. Do you need any help?" he asks, and she takes a good look at Joe's face, taking in every detail. She's missed him so much, and having him here with her makes her feel a thousand pounds lighter, she feels so much better already. She leans in and gives him a soft kiss on the lips, savoring the feeling of his warmth against her.

"Actually, yes," she says, looking at him directly into his eyes. "I could use another hug." She smiles sheepishly making grabby hands towards him again.

Joe grins, "I've got you," he whispers into her hair, taking in the moment he had been waiting for weeks.

"Thank you for coming," she whispers, burying her face in his chest. "I really needed this."

"I missed you too much," Joe says, kissing her on the forehead. "How are you feeling?", he asks quietly trying to gauge if her warmth comes from a fever or not.

"So much better now," Taylor says giving him the sweetest smile, sniffling a little she quickly pulls away from him feeling a fresh wave of coughs tickling her throat, burying her head into her elbow. She wipes her nose and she quickly turns away to grab a tissue from the box on the coffee table, but he beats her to it and hands it to her.

“I can see that”, he tells her sarcastically while passing her the tissues “Here, love”

"I'm sorry," she said, her cheeks reddening. "I'm so disgusting," she says as she takes a few tissues and blows her nose softly, feeling a little self-conscious about being gross in front of him.

“You´re not” Joe reassures her as he hugs her back, squeezing her gently as they rock back and forth. They stay like that for a few moments, just enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

Their moment is suddenly cut short as a knock on the door interrupts them. Joe pulls away and they both turn to watch Tree enter the dressing room.

"How are you feeling, darling?" Tree asks with concern in her voice.

Taylor shrugs and coughs, holding up the box of tissues. "Not great, to be honest. But I think I'll be fine; my voice feels stronger"

Tree nods in understanding and starts giving Taylor instructions about the show. "You need to start getting ready, sweetheart. The team is already waiting for you, and we need to make sure you are ready for the performance." Taylor takes a deep breath and gets up from the couch, her energy slowly returning as the dressing room quickly fills up with hairdressers, make-up artists, and costume people. They move around her, working quickly to get her ready for the show.

"Let's do this" She says quietly to herself, taking a deep breath and trying to focus.

______________ As she takes on the stage, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and the audience is entranced. She feels their energy feeding into her performance. The crowd can obviously tell she is sick, as she keeps coughing and wiping her nose in between songs and taking sips of water frequently. But despite her illness, she still manages to give an incredible performance, pouring her heart and soul into every note. Her team watches her with admiration, knowing how much she has been struggling in the days leading up to the show.

After the show, Taylor is exhausted but elated. She knows that she has given the audience everything she had, and their enthusiastic response made it all worth it. As she walks off the stage, she sees Joe waiting for her with a big smile on his face.

"Great job, babe," he whispers into her ear, wrapping his arms around her. "You were amazing up there."

Taylor leans into his embrace, feeling grateful for his support. "Thanks," she says quietly, a little hoarse from all the singing and coughing. "I don't know how I managed to pull it off, but I'm glad it went well."

Joe hands her a water bottle. "You were a trooper," he says, kissing her forehead. "Let's get you back to the hotel so you can rest up."

Taylor nods, feeling a sense of relief that the show is over and she can finally rest. She knows that it was not her best show, clearly, but she gave it her all, and the fans' support made it all worth it.

She starts falling asleep in the car, exhausted but feeling so grateful for the man next to her. As she looks over at him sitting next to her, she knows that she has everything she needs, this is truly all she wants.

#fanfiction #joe and taylor fanfiction #taylor swift fanfiction #fromsplinkersplashes

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 2 months

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Y/n Doing Media

masterlist

taylor swift x fem!NHL!reader

note: just getting to know yn better!

The woman was walking up the tunnel on her way onto the ice for practice, but seeing the media girl having her phone out and a question, she stopped. Unlike most of the guys, Y/n really liked doing media, and the silly little questions they would get asked.

Today the question was ‘What would your goal song be if you had to pick’ an answer immediately popping into her head the woman quickly says, “The Man by Taylor Swift.” starting to run off as if she did something bad, gaining a laugh from the young media intern.

“‘Loudest on the team’?” blowing out a sigh, she thought for a moment before she realised the answer was obvious, “If not me, it has to be Smith.”

For the Dads and mentors trip, Y/n’s dad jumped at the opportunity to tell a fun fact about his daughter. He’s always so proud of her, and making her dream come true, he could never shut up about his daughter being the first woman in the NHL

“A fun fact about Y/n is.. When she was 13, she started playing for the boys A hockey team. And she came home after a practice once, when the boys gave her a particularly hard time and she said to me, ‘Dad, I know the boys don’t like me playing with them, and I thought it was because I’m a girl. But I think it’s because I’m better than them.’ And she was right! The next season she was playing for the boys AA team.”

Being the only woman on the team, when all the boys were getting asked if they think about the Roman Empire, Y/n was asked what she thinks the female version of the Roman Empire is.

“I think either Princess Diana or Henry VIII’s wives.” “Interesting.” “Thank you!”

Y/n was brought into the dressing room to answer some questions for the Devils tiktok page, her first question being one she is very passionate about. Ranking pizza toppings.

“Pineapple.” “Five. Oh my god, an abomination. Too Sweet.”

“Peppers.” “One- well.. If it’s green peppers one, but if it’s red or orange it’s the same problem as the pineapple, it’s too sweet. It like off-sets the pizza’s balance.”

“Sausage.” “Umm.. I would say three. Let's play it safe.”

“Pepperoni.” “Two.”

“Meatball and Onion.” “Safe to say I have never had that as a pizza topping, but I would try it.”

“So I just have to say if I think Taylor Swift or Bruce Springsteen said it?” getting a nod of confirmation from the team media girl, Y/n continues reading off the quote, “‘He looks up grinning like a devil, it’s new’ Taylor Swift. Easy. Can I get some harder ones?”

#taylor swift #taylor swift x fem!nhl!reader #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x female reader #taylor swift x fem!reader #taylor swift fanfiction #taylor swift fic #nhl x reader #nj devils #nhl player!reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fic

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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 2 months

Text

CITYBOUND III

TW: sexual references 🚨

With her face in the sun, Taylor closes her eyes, feels the warm sensation hit her skin. A siren goes off, only a few feet away. The usual car honking that always reminds her exactly where she lives, also doesn’t stop. But it won’t end this peaceful moment. The first rays of sunshine in New York City this year. The first time she’s on the rooftop this year. Eleanor’s little voice from afar, playing by herself. In her winter puff jacket and with her sunglasses on her nose, she opens her eyes again now, looking at the blonde toddler sitting on the wooden patio floor only a few feet away from her. She’s playing with her dolls on top of the stairs leading to the covered pool. She seems to be in her own world, doesn’t even notice Taylor sitting on the sofa next to her, with a wool blanket on top of her. The fact that she so desperately soaks in these first sunrays of the year makes it more than obvious that she and Eleanor need to escape to LA for a few days. She can’t take winter no more. Time for spring to come.

“Honey, remember, no playing by the pool top.” Taylor says, using her hand to shield her sunglasses, making sure she can see clearly what the toddler in her green puffer jacket is doing. Eleanor just nods, two big tails on the little curly head. She’s playing with the two mini dolls that her mother got her a few weeks ago and she still seems to be obsessed with these little princesses. Taylor smiles. She sinks her head, fixes the big blanket over her legs and checks her phone. Just as she was about to reply to the dozens of unanswered messages in her inbox, she can hear the door from the end of the rooftop open. Within two seconds, Taylor sees two huge feet tucked into these ugly big Nike slippers. In his sweatpants he closes the door slowly, smiling through the sun right at her. He’s done with work. She’s glad. Two hours were two hours too long. Too long of him working, and her pretending as if she’s glad to have some time by herself.

“Wow, this is nice.” he says as he slowly makes his way towards her. With an approving smile, Travis takes a look around the luxurious rooftop. Hard to believe that this peaceful outdoor space is right in the heart of Manhattan.

“Yeah.” she just says, her eyes still focused on the tall man, slowly making his way towards her. He lets himself fall down right next to her on the outdoor couch. She smiles at him through her sunglasses.

“How was it?”

“Good.” he smiles at her, his hand already on her thigh again, right above the blanket that’s been keeping her warm out here. “Jason says hi.”

She smiles, nods. She wonders what his brother thinks about all this. She knows that Travis is very independant from anyone’s opinions. It’s one of the things she admires about him. She knows he won’t get influenced by anyone else’s opinion about what they’re doing, who she is or whether this really is a good idea. But she still wonders what his family thinks. The fact that he’s just spending the week here, at her apartment. With her and her child. A weird thought that brings up some anxiety the more she thinks about it.

“Thanks.” she says, and he can feel that she’s insecure of how to react suddenly.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t tell him much. He knows I’ve been seeing you, but nothing more.” he says, has clearly just read her mind again. She nods. It’s okay. This answer is something she can live with.

“I know.” she says quietly, moves her cold hand on top of his. Her eyes looking for Eleanor once more. Travis just looks at the blonde woman next to him, smiles. He moves his thumb a little up and down, gently caressing her small and soft hand that’s on his.

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, and Taylor looks back at him. She sighs, leans back on the comfortable sofa that the two are sitting on, just facing the sun. He still can’t believe how nice and quiet it is here, in the middle of a rooftop in this big city jungle.

“Crappy, to be honest. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. Anytime she gets something, I get it two days later. Just… mom life.” she says, almost laughing at the end of her sentence. He nods. “I feel bad though because I told you a million times that you’re getting it next. And..”

“And I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he interrupts her gently, not raising his voice. Instead, his hand just keeps on caressing hers and it does something to her that she can’t quite explain. She feels safe. She feels seen.

“You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that before?”

He laughs at her statement, throwing his head back like a little kid for a second. She can’t help but smile at him, too. She loves it when he laughs like this. She loves how easy everything is with him. There’s no darkness when they’re together. The black dog that always follows her around just disappears. This familiar blue feeling of anxiety on her chest dissolves slowly. He’s pure sunshine, and she doesn’t know he is aware.

“Touché.” he just says. She smiles. She’s got no arguments left.

“Mommy, Travy. Look.”

The two are suddenly pulled out of their thoughts. With her little pink converse shoes, Eleanor comes running towards the two of them. Travis can’t help but laugh at her bouncy pigtails. With her finger up in the air she stops right in front of him, holding the little ladybug right into his face.

“Honey, don’t.. don’t push it in Travis’s eye, please. Careful.” Taylor tries to stop her toddler, but it only makes the man next to her laugh. With his big hands, he gently holds on to the little hand, looks at it in awe, just like Eleanor did before.

“Wow, where did you find this little beauty?” he asks Eleanor. Her eyes are lid up. Taylor loves it. She loves seeing the world through Eleanor’s eyes. She loves that for this little girl, life is still as magical as it can get.

“It.. it was just flying on my hand. Just like that.” she says, giggles in excitement that this little animal chose her for a visit on this sunny afternoon.

“Want me to show you a trick?” Travis asks, and Eleanor nods. Taylor watches the interaction and smiles. With his huge fingers, he shows the little girl how to get the ladybug to crawl from her one hand to the other. Eleanor giggles, and Travis smiles at her when she does it herself for the first time.

“Now, you have to make a wish. Close your eyes.”

With a smile on the little face, she closes her eyes. Her small hands still gently in Travis’s. Taylor’s heart feels like bursting for a second.

“You got one?”

“Mhmhm.”

“Now blow it away. One, two…”

Eleanor blows the ladybug away, jumps up and down for a minute out of excitement. Travis laughs at the little girl’s excitement, still holding both her hands in his.

“Great job, E. High five.”

Eleanor claps her small hand against Travis’s. The smile on the little face is so evident to Taylor. Eleanor feels the sunshine, too.

Not just the one coming from the New York skies today.

She runs away, back to playing with her dolls at the end of the patio. Travis still chuckles, looking after her. His hand wandering to hers again.

“She’s so adorable.” he laughs, then looks at Taylor. She smiles at him, and he knows exactly what her face is telling him right now.

“I know, she is. Thanks for.. for being so sweet with her.”

Travis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He appreciates her words. Truth is, he appreciates every moment of the past 48 hours. Being here, in her home, with Taylor and her daughter. Being able to just be together. Watching her take care of her child. Taking care of her. Lots of hugs to give and witness. Lots of kisses in this house. Lots of laughs. He hasn’t felt this happy and secure in a while and he hopes that this bubble won’t burst anytime soon. He knows it’s outrageous for him to have cancelled a majority of his off season plans for this week, just to spend time here. It’s unlike him to give up work (and play) commitments just to be with a woman. But this time, it’s different. It feels more like a deep need to be here with her now. Not like a choice. He knows, he needs to find the right words soon. But for now, it’s enough to turn off his mind for a bit. Enjoy a few more hours of heaven with Taylor.

“Thanks for introducing me to her.” he replies, his face moving closer to hers. He gently kisses her cheek, his beard scratching her slightly. She looks back at him, nods then. Her forehead leans gently against his chin, her small hand caresses his beard for a moment. He steals her forehead a tiny kiss.

“Means a lot, Tay.” he adds. She nods. He knows it still makes her feel incredibly vulnerable to have let him enter her and Eleanor’s life. And he can only fathom why. It must have been a tough fight for her to take back her own life after separating from Eleanor’s dad. And he knows she won’t let anyone hurt her daughter ever again. But he just wishes she’d know that he will never hurt either of the two.

She doesn’t reply to him, instead lets her head gently fall onto his shoulder. His arm wanders around her and he loves holding her like this. The sun facing them. It’s peaceful here. It’s peaceful between them. He loves to feel this shift since the other night. Since the night she opened up, and allowed him to get close.

Closer than ever before.

___

With the hood of his jacket pulled deep into his face, he enters her building. It’s gotten dark outside now, and the sunny afternoon has turned into an icy, freezing night. Brandon opens the big doors for him, then enters the code to operate the elevator for him, and a few seconds later he steps inside. The doors close, and he can finally pull down the hood covering him. He can breathe again. None of the paparazzi outside have noticed him.

“Quiet evening, man?” he asks the security guard, who politely smiles back.

“Yeah, all good. Did some shopping?”

Travis smiles and nods, the wine he got for himself and Taylor securely wrapped in a brown bag in his hands.

“Yup. Got her some snacks. Keeping both of’em happy.” he jokes.

Brandon smiles. The interaction ends once the elevator door opens again. Travis steps outside, uses the key she gave him to enter the penthouse. Brandon says his goodbye, wishing him a nice evening and Travis closes her door. In an instant, her smell creeps back into his nose, into his lungs, into his… heart. It’s the same smell as her hair, when he kisses her head gently. The same smell as all her clothes, and the bed he slept in for a few nights now. He feels this indescribable feeling of happiness again, just by smelling her. He knows he’s far beyond the stage of falling for her. Her home feels like home to him, and every day - it just keeps getting worse.

Travis takes off his jacket, gently throws it over the chair in the living room. He steps into the generous, open kitchen, and carefully places the bags of food and wine on the countertop. He knows Taylor struggled to get Eleanor to sleep tonight. So the last thing he wants to do is wake up the small girl. He takes the bottles of wine from the brown bag, finally finds free space in the wine cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

“Hi.” he hears a familiar voice coming from the stairs then. He turns to her, closes the wine cabinet. She smiles, the same make up free face as earlier, before he left to go to the grocery store on Greenwich Street that she loves so much. She’s in her comfy clothes from before, her bangs a bit messed up from Eleanor’s pillow.

“Is she out?” he asks, and Taylor nods, makes her way up to him. He immediately opens his arms, pulls her in for a tight hug. Her face pressed into his shoulder, nothing but her bangs looking out. She breathes him in.

“Yeah finally.” she sighs, “Why do you smell so good.”

Travis chuckles, moving his head in her tight hug to kiss her soft cheek again.

“You smell so much better.”

She lets go of him, both her hands wandering to his face. She smiles, then comes closer to kiss him gently.

“I got you some snacks. And wine. And..”

“Thanks so much. I promise, I will make a batch of cookies later tonight. I haven’t forgotten it. And I really want you to try these. Because, quite frankly, it’s a crime to stay at my house for more than 24 hours without trying my chai..”

“Hey, I have a better idea.” he says then. She stops for a second, has already started reaching for flour, sugar and the chai tea in her cupboard right in front of her. She can feel his big hands wrap around her from behind, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah, and what is that?” she asks, his beard pressed into her neck, gently kissing her skin.

“Come here.” he mumbles. One second passes and she feels his strong arms on her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the countertop behind her. She can’t help giggle a bit, loves that she’s towering him now. Her hands securely on his shoulders. He’s so strong and it never leaves her unimpressed. His nose touches hers for a second, and the smile on his face warms her heart in an instant.

“Mister, if this is what I think it is, can I remind you…”

“It’s not.” he assures her, kisses her again, can’t help but let out a laugh. She closes her eyes, both her arms wrapped around his neck. She feels herself letting go, a low sigh escaping her mouth. He pulls back after a few seconds, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wanna spoil you tonight.” he says then, and she smiles, biting her lower lip for a second. He’s so handsome in this moment, and his eyes could move a damn mountain. She can’t unsee these pictures of him as a little boy. He truly, still, is the goofy kid he told her he once was. And god, does she have love for this kid. Does she have love for this man in front of her, his huge hands being so gentle and kind.

“You spoil me every night.” she whispers against his lips, making him laugh a bit.

“I don’t mean that kind of spoiling you.” he says, and she stops for a second.

“Wait, you’re not talking about… sexy time?”

“Sexy time?” he asks her with a laugh, can’t believe this is the way she describes their mindblowing, life-changing sex.

“I mean.. yeah it can be. But, I want to give you a massage. A proper one.”

She can’t believe his words, almost feels insecure for a moment. It’s been a long time since someone she shared a bed with has made this kind of effort for her. She still remembers, early on with Joe, he would do small little things for her. But it was never like this. It was always accidental. Always unplanned, but sweet. But this, right here, with Travis, is different. She can’t believe he’s thought about this. Can’t believe he wants to spend the evening giving her a massage, has actively thought about what she would need right now. It’s a new level of attentiveness she’s foreign to when it comes to relationships.

“Would you.. would you like that?” he asks then, has noticed her getting lost in her own thoughts. Within a second, she’s pulled back to reality and nods. Her mouth forming a smile.

“I would love that. I would absolutely love that. Thanks so much.” she murmurs, comes closer to him again and kisses him gently. He can tell she’s touched by this gesture, but that’s exactly what he wanted to achieve tonight. He wants to make her feel appreciated, respected, loved. He knows that after the past years with her ex, it’s still hard for her to let herself fall, enjoy the moment, let someone else take full control. But she deserves to be spoiled. She deserves to be treated this way. Always.

“Want to eat first? Or..”

She shakes her head, and it makes him laugh. She just presses her face next to his, hugging him like a koala bear. He smiles, can feel her craving his proximity. Within a second, he has lifted her up from the countertop, slowly walking up the stairs with her hugging him this closely. He can hear her giggle into his sweater, carefully closes the door to her bedroom behind them.

“Shall I leave the door open in case the little one wakes up?” he asks, carefully lets her down. She looks up at him smiling, then shakes her head.

“No, all good. I still have the baby monitor app on my phone. If there’s movement in her room, my phone goes off.”

He nods, his hand already on her cheek, stealing her forehead a last kiss before letting go again. She quickly turns on the little light next to her bed, then dims the room by turning off the main light. The mood has shifted, and it’s this romantic, low light she loves so much whenever she gets to be alone with him. This is her safe space. Him in her bedroom. The door closed. The world just staying outside.

“I’ll quickly go pee, okay? Do you.. do you need anything?”

“Bodylotion and a towel.” he says, and she smiles, not moving for a second.

“What?”

Standing in the door to the bathroom, looking at him, she just starts giggling. Her hand in front of her mouth now, the way she always does, whenever she gets shy for a second.

“Nothing. I.. I just can’t believe you’re so serious about giving me a massage.”

“Of course I am.” he says, has already taken off his sweatshirt and throws it over the little chair at the end of her bedroom.

“Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah, top drawer by my bedside.” she says, can’t believe he’s putting so much effort into this. She just watches him reach for the lighter, then begins putting on the big Loewe candle at the end of her room. She can’t believe he’s got this romantic side to him. A side of him she doesn’t really know that well yet. He suddenly looks at her, a bit confused, not sure what she’s waiting for.

“Go pee, now. Come on.”

“Okay, okay.” she mumbles, laughing to herself and closing the bathroom door gently. A few minutes later, the door opens again and she’s slowly stepping up to him. He has sat down on the side of her bed now, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and some socks. She stops right in front of him, looks around the room. She can’t believe he’s put on the candles.

“Bodylotion?”

“Oh, I forgot.” she mumbles, makes her way back into the bathroom again. When she comes back, she passes him her favorite shea body butter and a large white towel. A little out of place, she just stands there, watches him place the towel on top of her bedding.

“Shall I..”

“Come here, I’ll do that.” he smiles at her, and she trusts him. In her sweatpants and shirt, she crawls onto the bed, lands on her back and giggles as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra yet he won’t break eye contact to her. A few seconds pass, and her pants have gone, too. She lays there for a moment, in the dim light, feeling a bit more vulnerable than usually.

“You warm enough?” he asks her, notices immediately that she’s not a hundred percent comfortable. But she nods, just watches him closely. He puts a generous amount of body lotion into his hands, starts warming his hands together.

“Shall I.. shall I take these off?” she asks him with a smirk in her face, and it makes him laugh.

“Yes.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of a massage?”

“Babe..”

“I’m teasing.” she giggles, gets rid of her thong and turns around. Laying flat on her stomach now, she feels his hands land on her back and it makes her shiver for a second. With her head turned to the side she closes her eyes, feels him fix her hair to the side, to ensure it’s out of the way.

“Do you have a spot that pains you sometimes?” he asks her, almost a whisper. This is their world. Nobody is here to listen in, and she feels herself let go. Feels herself open up.

“Yeah my.. my upper back and neck. I have horrible posture, so..”

Within a second, Travis starts massaging the spot that always hurts her, and she melts into the pillow. She feels goosebumps form all over her body, and she can’t believe he’s so good at doing this. For a moment, she can’t really speak, can’t really think anymore. His warm, soft hands kned over her skin and she feels a deep relaxation take over her.

“Oh my god..” she whispers then, and he smiles, giving his best to help her muscles relax properly.

“Is that okay?” he asks her quietly, his hands moving up and down her back, again and again.

“So good. This is.. so good.” he smiles, continues his work. He takes some more of the body lotion, moves with his hand movements down again to her lower back. He can feel her relax more and more underneath him. With her eyes closed, the talkative woman is suddenly dead quiet.

“Baby?”

He hears her whisper, almost feels like his entire body tingles for a second. She’s never called him that. She’s never called him anything other than the occasional ‘babe’ or ‘Trav’. For a second, he loosens his movements, looks up at her. She hasn’t moved, her eyes are still closed. He’s worried he might have hurt her. A hint of fear coming through.

“You okay?”

“I might fall asleep, is that.. are you mad, if I..”

He laughs gently, keeps on working on her back.

“You can fall asleep if you want to. This is for you to relax, stop worrying about falling asleep.” he says in the calmest way possible. Taylor doesn’t move. She feels herself drift off, can’t believe the amount of work and effort he puts into every single inch of her body. She can still feel him work on her lower back, now slightly moving to her hips. She can feel his talented hands move down every single muscle on her side. Not only are his movements the perfect amount of pressure and ease, but he also seems to have an extensive knowledge about the general muscle allocation. She’s never been massaged by someone she’s intimate with, didn’t know how good it can feel to let go off the tensions she carries in her upper thighs, and even her bottom. She doesn’t move, doesn’t know if she’s asleep yet or if she’s reached a new level of letting go. She can feel him work his way down her legs, massaging out all the tension from tour rehearsals in her calves. It’s the first time that his touch hurts a little, but it gets less and less with every round of kneading from his fingers. With every touch, the tension leaves her body. She lets out a soft sigh when he starts massaging her feet. She knew he’s good at foot massages, but she didn’t know his massaging skills extend to her other muscles, too.

“You still awake?”

“Mhmhm.” she mumbles.

“Can you turn around for me?”

She immediately moves in her bed, looks at the man smiling at her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit. She must have been so comfortable that she didn’t notice the pillow leaving a proper imprint on the right half of her face. She’s too cute. Before reaching for the body lotion again, he can’t help but get closer, steals her warm cheek a soft kiss.

“I’m shocked about how talented you are, mister.” she mumbles then, relaxation in her voice. He smiles, reaches for her left hand, massages her arms up and down. She’s laying fully exposed in front of him. No blanket covering her. And she’s never felt so safe. Never before.

“This is the best massage I’ve ever gotten.” she adds. Her eyes slowly closing. With his left hand he holds her arm upright, kneading all the tensions in her upper arm.

“I’m glad.” he says, fully focused on his work. “I’ve gotten so many massages before that I really picked up where some of the muscles are located, and what type of movements help release tensions.” he explains, slowly lets go off her arm, and Taylor opens her eyes again. She feels his hands full of lotion gently massage her tummy now. Suddenly, her hand reaches for his arm. He looks at her.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?”

“Kiss me.”

He smiles, comes closer to her and steals her lips a gentle kiss. He lets go after a few seconds, keeps on massaging her soft belly. She feels everything in her body tingling for a second, and she knows why. She knew this massage would eventually get to this point, but she didn’t think it would relax her this much. She then feels his hand move up her torso and within a second, her eyes are open. Wide open. He stops then, lowers his head and starts laughing. Within a second, the mood has changed. Drastically.

“I promise this.. this was not a boob grab, I just wanted to massage your cleavage. You do have muscles there. Believe me or not. And..”

She giggles, too, holding onto his strong arm, clearly messing with him.

“Please go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” she says with a giggle, her eyes not leaving his. With his soft hands he wanders up, starts massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. He’s so close to her face now, so close, and his hands keep on making the same moves. She looks deep into his eyes, feels him hit her deep muscle tissue then. She swallows. It hurts. It hurts to feel all the tension leave her body. She closes her eyes.

“You’re so tense here.” he whispers. She nods. He keeps massaging her. “Feels like.. feels like you carried a lot of weight on your chest.”

She has no idea why, but within a second, a tear streams down her face. Travis stops immediately, but her hand reaches for his.

“Please keep.. keep going.” she sniffles. She doesn’t know why she gets so emotional all of the sudden. But whatever he was doing with her body right here, works. She feels all these stuck feelings leaving her body. So many emotions come back up. She’s so tired suddenly. She feels this pain so clearly. But she needs him to keep going. She needs him to knead it out until the very end.

“Is it.. is it getting less?” he asks her, has noticed what she experienced just now. He’s learned from his physiotherapist that especially in the chest area, people tend to hold their tensions. Their grudges. Their undigested feelings. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the woman in front of him. But with every kneading movement of his fingers, he can feel her soften up. She has her eyes closed, nods. He won’t stop. After a few minutes, his movement gets slower. She opens her eyes again, looks into his. Within a second, her hands land in his neck and she pulls him down to her, kisses him gently. Her tears have dried up, and instead, she feels him be as gentle as she can be. And he loves tasting her. He loves how soft she is. Everything about her. A doze of dopamine hitting his system. She lets go off him then, her hands in his neck so that their noses still touch.

“Thank you.” she whispers against his lips. He nods. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Slowly, she reaches for his left hand, not letting her eyes leave his. Within a few seconds, he realizes where her hand has moved. With the most gentle motion, she has placed his hand on the most intimate part of her body. He understands immediately, lowers his face to kiss her neck gently. He’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard not to let these three words just come bursting out of his mouth in this moment. Her skin is so soft under his lips, her little hands on his scalp, caressing him gently. He can feel her longing for him in between her legs. His fingers gently exploring her body, being as careful as they could be. Within a few seconds, he leaves her neck, looks back into her eyes again. Her lips are a bit swollen from their previous kisses, and there’s a kind of calmness in her eyes he hasn’t seen before.

“You sure?” he asks her again, and she appreciates it so much. Not a single time they’ve slept with each other without Travis asking for her consent beforehand. She appreciates this, appreciates just how much he respects her. She nods, adjusting her head on the pillow. She looks down, so that she can witness his fingers moving gently. She feels her chest rising, enjoys every single one of his hand movements so much. She swallows, her breath a bit shaky now. She can feel him kiss her cheek while his hand keeps up the steady movement. She feels so safe in this moment. She knows she can let go. She knows with him, she’s always safe to let go.

“Fuck..” she mumbles then, a little sigh escaping her mouth then, breaking the silence between them. She’s holding onto his neck with her hand, desperately looking at him.

“Can you..”

Travis immediately looks at her. She is fully focused on his hands, her left hand on his lower arm now, feeling his muscles move while he pleasures her. With the other hand, she’s holding onto the towel underneath her. She struggles to speak right now, but he patiently waits for her to finish her thought. He feels so close to her in this moment. They’ve just reached a new level of intimacy. He can feel it in his bones.

“What..”

“Can you go.. just a bit faster?”

He doesn’t reply to her, just does what she asked him. His circle motions are steady but at a higher speed than before. And she appreciates it. So much. She lets her head fall back into the pillow, the little frown appearing on her face that he knows so well. A frown he only knows when he’s in between her legs. And he loves it so much. With his free hand he begins to caress her naked stomach a bit, her hand reaching for his. She’s close. And he’s ready to be there for her, for every second of it. A last little moan escapes her mouth and it gives him goosebumps. Suddenly, her breathing gets faster and faster and he can hear her whisper his name a few times, with the same high pitched desperate moan that he knows and loves so much. He can feel her ride off her wave of pleasure, tightly holding into his arm, guiding him in his movements. He looks into her face as it happens, and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. For a few seconds, she breathes fast with her mouth open, her body just coming down from this mountain she climbed with him. He knows she’s sensitive now, and he’s as gentle with her as humanly possible. His hand still between her legs, he doesn’t move, gives her the time and space to come back down to planet earth. She opens her eyes again after a few seconds, her cheeks flushed. She just pulls him down to her, kissing him full of giggles and lust. He can feel her hand reach for his boxers. He laughs into the kiss. He knows what she wants, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want exactly the same.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” she mumbles in between the shower of kisses she gives him, her hand now fully landing on his naked butt. She smiles into their kiss. The stubble of his beard scratching her face in the best way.

“You’re so welcome.” he whispers back, smiling at her. She loves to feel his naked weight on top of her now. Two noses touching. He looks down for a second, gently guiding himself into her. He watches her face closely, trying to find any trace of discomfort. But there is none. She closes her eyes in pleasure again, and so does he. Paradise. He opens his eyes again, feeling her arms holding onto his. Her frown is back. Paradise. He can feel her move with him, her mouth opened, sweet moans escaping her again. He knows she’s holding back, not forgetting that they’re not alone in this house. But he’s still in paradise.

“Baby..” she cries out then, half a whisper, half a beg, half a moan. He looks at her, his big hand already cupping her face. He kisses her forehead right over her bangs. She’s warm. She’s slowly but surely starting to sweat a little, just like him.

“Can I.. I want to be on top, please. Please.” she mumbles. He immediately stops, lets himself fall next to her in bed. He feels her get up, position herself on top of him. She’s still flushed, yet her eyes barely leave his. He looks up at her, can’t help but feel like he’s dreaming. Her long hair over her naked shoulders. Her hands reaching for his chest to hold herself upright. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She begins her movements again, and he helps her. His hands on her hips, his eyes on her face. She’s so beautiful. He can’t help but look at her. Can’t help but stare at her letting go on top of him.

After a few minutes, he feels his vision get blurry. She lets out another moan, a little louder than before. He feels himself come undone, then loves to feel her collapse on his chest. She’s breathing heavy, both of his hands on her bare back, feeling her lungs do the most in this moment. She comes down only slowly. Her skin hot and soft. She doesn’t move, just relaxes slowly. And he loves every minute of it. He loves feeling her get heavier and heavier on him. His hands stroking her back up and down, making her feel just as loved as before they had sex. A few seconds later, she looks back up at him, a smile on her face. He smiles back at her, both his hands cupping her face now, kissing her gently. This time, there’s no lust in his kisses no more. There’s just love. A lot of love.

She quickly moves on his torso and lets herself fall next to him. She stares at the ceiling for a second, then turns her head back to him. He’s moved to his side, just so he can see her better. His hand on her stomach again. He loves being so close to her. There’s nothing better than being so close to her. His fingers drawing circles on her skin.

“That escalated quickly.” she mumbles. He laughs, stealing her temple a soft kiss.

“Thanks for your.. for your incredible massage. Also for.. the other part after.” she says, grinning at him as goofy as a teenager who just had sex for the first time. It makes him laugh.

“I don’t think my body has ever felt so relaxed, Trav.” she whispers. His lips still on her temple. He smiles, as she looks back at him. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, he hasn’t noticed before. It must be the afterglow that people always speak about.

“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it.”

“I didn’t just like it. Trav, that was.. electric. Literally electric.”

He smiles at her using his own words. She lets their noses touch once, has now moved to the side to be face to face, and eye to eye with him.

“Thank you so much.” she says again. He doesn’t really react, just places his hand on her cheek. There’s so much love in his eyes in this moment. He doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes just say it all.

“You cold?”

“A little.”

He starts moving, for the first time since minutes and helps her crawl underneath the big blanket just under them. She adjusts a little, then cuddles herself fully under the covers. Her hands looking for him. She moves again, until she’s finally fully embraced in his arms. He kisses her head, makes sure she’s covered by the blanket. Silence takes over, and he allows himself to close his eyes for a minute.

“Trav?”

“Mhm?

“Can we try this?”

“Try what?”

“Us.”

For a second, he can’t dare believe his ears. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if she just meant what she said, but she said it. Taylor moves again, turns around to be able to face him. She’s worried suddenly that she’s said too much. She’s worried that his silence is something other than utter surprise. He looks at her in shock. Within a second, she feels a tummy ache flaring up inside of her.

“Do you.. can you please say something?” she mumbles and he takes a breath, slowly sits up. She’s worried now. She’s never witnessed him this freaked out. She knew it was too soon. But she can take it back. Thank god she didn’t fully speak it out yet. She can fix this. She looks at him leaning against her bed rest. She carefully sits up as well, holding the blanket close to her naked body.

“I’m so sorry for.. just.. not finding the right words, Tay.” he says finally, and she nods “No worries, I mean I know I..”

“My answer is yes. But I need you to know what I’m in for.” he interrupts her and she’s shocked for a moment. She looks at him, feels her hands shaking suddenly. She doesn’t feel relaxed anymore, at all. What bomb did she just set off? She can feel him get nervous as well. It’s been a while since he was acting like this around her.

“I.. I don’t want us to just be another fling. I..” he stops, gathering his words, “I know this is not the most romantic way to do this, but if we try this, if we.. if we try being something serious. Like.. as serious as a relationship. Then.. then I want you to know that I’m in it for the long run.” he looks into her eyes, fully aware that this could scare her off for good. But he needs to honor himself. He needs to be straight with her, or else this won’t have a chance of working out.

“I’m not in this, if.. if you want a little distraction. Or a little fun. I want a partnership. I want to have a family eventually. And of course, we.. we have a long way to go. To see if we fit. To see if this can work. But I just want you to know that if we try this, then.. then this is my intention.”

Travis takes a deep breath after finishing his little speech. He can’t dare look at her again, but he’s proud of himself for having said it. Suddenly, he feels her hands reach for his. He looks back into her eyes, and she smiles. A little tear in her eyes. He can see that clearly.

“Okay.” she whispers. He swallows, not sure how to react. All he feels is her small hand caressing his.

“Okay?”

She nods, a smile on her lips.

“I want the same thing. With you. But.. I’m just.. I just hope you know what you are in for. With all this attention. I will be on tour soon, Trav. If you think this is bad, the security and the.. the staying hidden, then you have no idea what you’re in for in the next months. My life is crazy. My life is.. fully out of control. But it’s my life. And I have lost years of my life hiding for someone else who couldn’t handle the pressure. And.. and I can’t do that no more. I’m all in, but I just hope you know what that means for you.”

He looks at her, a big smile on his face. All the worries from before are gone. He nods.

“Tay?”

She looks at him, worry in her face. She knows his smile can’t really mean that he changed his mind after her little speech. But she is in fact worried that he will regret this. That he will ask her for more time to think about this. About what it means to be in a relationship with her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What?” she says, her hand still holding his. She looks at the man in her bed. His naked torso leaned against her bed rest, his smile all over his face as he looks at her. She feels calm just looking at him smile like this, but there’s still a part of her that is full of anxiety right now.

“I.. I think I’m really really really in love with you. Like… so much, it’s not even funny.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment.

“Is that okay? I feel like.. maybe this is a good time to tell you. I will let you know if I can’t handle your life, I promise. But I need you to know that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And.. and it would make me the happiest person on this planet to call you my girlfriend.”

Travis finishes his sentence. She doesn’t say anything, just sits up a bit, both of her hands touching his cheeks. She presses her forehead against his, then leans in and kisses him. It’s a different type of kiss. She’s emotional. His hands land on her bare back again.

“I love you, too.” she whispers then, closes her eyes and lets him kiss her bangs gently.

“So much.”

___

“You sure this is a good idea?”

He asks again, sitting on the bed and looking at her. He’s wearing a pair of his Nike sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He watches her finish her make up in the mirror by her bedroom. She looks incredible, just like every day. A pair of blue boyfriend jeans covering her small frame, a grey longsleeve shirt on top and her black adidas shoes covering her feet. He loves to watch her get ready in the morning. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just another way of spending time with her. Witnessing her every move, every mundane thing she does in the morning, getting to know her even better.

“Of course it is.” she says again, for the fifth time today, turning around to look at him with a smirk. He laughs too, now, knowing he acts absolutely ridiculous. After all, it’s her dad. She loves her dad. And he’s always been popular with his ex- girlfriend’s fathers. No need to act like a little boy now, Travis.

“Listen, my parents are.. very much open to the idea of me dating again. I know they want me to be happy. And.. trust me, it’ll be fine.”

He nods, watches her walk towards him. She stops standing right in front of him. He presses his face into her shirt, right above her stomach, giving her a few nervous kisses.

“Also, I can’t stand the thought of you flying out today. So we definitely need to have a nice lunch altogether before you leave.” she mumbles into his head, kissing his head once.

He looks back up at her and smiles. He can’t believe he’s flying out to Kansas City again. He can’t believe he’s spent five extra days in this city. Unplanned. The most incredible, beautiful, five days with this woman. Not a single chance, he could ever forget these days in his lifetime.

“I’ll miss you, sweetie.” he mumbles. She nods, and he can see in her face that it worries her. She doesn’t want to leave their bubble. And neither does he.

“I’ll miss you, too.” she says, “But it’s just one week.”

He nods. They can do one week. They’ll be fine.

“Travy, look. I did this for you!”

Taylor quickly lets go off Travis, hears her daughter run into her mother’s bedroom. A pencil and a piece of paper in her small hands. Taylor and Travis decided to let some time pass before explaining to Eleanor where they both stand, with each other, in their relationship. She won’t ever fully introduce someone into her life, unless it’s as serious as it could get. And they’ve got time. They’ve got all the time in the world for this big move.

“What? For me?” Travis looks at the little painting she made him. He’s in true disbelief. Eleanor smiles proudly at her mommy, gets all shy and nods then.

“This is Olivia and Benjamin and Chauncy and Rambo.”

Taylor can’t help but laugh a little, looks from Travis back to Eleanor. Her hands land on the little curlyhead. All it took was for Travis to show Eleanor a few pictures and videos of his dogs, and the little girl fell in love. Taylor knows how much she adores animals. Of course, she would fall in love with his doggs in a minute - even without having met them yet.

“Oh my goodness. Eleanor. This is.. this is beautiful.” he says, completely serious, looking into the little girl’s proud face.

“Wow, you’re so talented.” he says,pokes her tummy once and she giggles.

“Can I get a hug?” he asks, and Eleanor falls into the big man’s arms. For a moment, Taylor stands there and feels herself get emotional. She knows this little girl hasn’t had a steady male figure in her life, besides her grandfather and her uncle, for almost a year now. Ever since her separation from Joe, Eleanor has seen her father twice. Phone calls that were promised got less and less. And Taylor could feel Joe not just forget about her, but also his daughter. He’s left her. She can barely let these thoughts enter her mind, but sometimes, they just come creeping back up. She knows that Eleanor knows exactly that her father hasn’t called in months. And Taylor knows that maybe, just maybe, this is why she’s so crazy about Travis. And how can she not be? He’s tall, he’s funny, he makes her laugh and he’s so kind and gentle to her.

“Thanks so much, girly. I’m honored. This is beautiful. I will hang this one up in my house.” Travis says to Eleanor. Taylor notices Eleanor’s hand landing on Travis’s.

“And I promise you, soon you will meet Rambo and Chauncey. I promise. And I’ll send mommy some videos tonight.” he says, making Eleanor jump up and down a few times. Taylor loves seeing her so excited. She loves this relationship that’s slowly forming between Travis and her. But then again, the more she feels these two connecting, the more she feels herself growing anxious. A deep wave of anxiety, worry, almost panic arising in her chest.

If this won’t work out, then Travis will break two hearts.

Not just one.

___

“Grandpa!”

Travis hears Eleanor screaming while running towards the elevator door of the townhouse. He just stands there in the kitchen, taking a deep breath, which he hopes will remain unnoticed. Taylor already laughed at him taking off his earrings before. But he wants to be as presentable as possible for her dad. After all, he’s the man who entered his daughter’s and granddaughter’s life. He wants him to have a good first impression. Whatever that means. Travis slowly makes his way to the door, watches Eleanor jump onto Scott’s arm. The older man laughs a few times, already listening to Eleanor tell him all about her new school. Taylor just looks back to Travis, rolling her eyes at her daughter. He laughs. Eleanor is a very talkative little girl. He absolutely adores it about her.

“Hi, honey.” Scott says then, hugging his daughter. Travis immediately feels the man’s eyes on him. He smiles at him, not sure how to act. He takes a step closer to him, opening his arms. Immediately, he realizes that Scott gives him a hand shake instead. Slightly embarrassed, he shakes his hand, tries to hide the fact that he expected the welcome to be a bit warmer, instead.

“Hi, Mr. Swift. It’s so good to meet you. Taylor told me so much about you.”

Scott smiles, barely, and nods.

“Nice to meet you.”

Taylor watches the interaction, and gets a little confused. Her father is usually the warmest person she knows, has never not opened his arms for any of Taylor’s friends, or even her crappy ex-boyfriends. She’s not used to her dad being this cold, especially towards someone as open and as warm as Travis. Her parents have always taught her to keep warm people close. And Travis is one of these people.

Taylor doesn’t say anything, just places her arm on Travis’s shoulder. It’s a small gesture but he knows its her way of assuring him.

“So glad you get to meet Travis, dad.” she mumbles, but Scott doesn’t really react, is suddenly extremely busy hanging up his jacket next to the door.

“Alright, shall we have lunch?” she says then, hoping the mood in the room gets lighter soon. She feels incredibly insecure suddenly. But she hopes Travis won’t feel any of this. He doesn’t deserve to not feel welcomed. After all, he’s been the most incredible person in her life for these past months.

“Sounds good.” Scott says, placing his bag in the dining room.

“Grandpa, can we watch a movie together?” Eleanor asks her grandfather, already holding his hand again. Scott smiles at her, his hand protectively on her little head.

“Sweetheart, your mommy and I have a few work meetings after lunch. But tonight, we can watch a movie together. How about that?”

Eleanor nods, seems to not be very happy about his answer.

“Should I.. do you need any help in the kitchen?” Travis asks Taylor. She looks at him, and immediately feels his tension. She hates it.

“Actually, why don’t you and dad just sit down, and Eleanor and me we can get lunch ready huh?”

Her hand lands on Travis’s back. He gives her that one look that always makes her laugh. But she knows this is good. As soon as her dad and him talk for a bit, the tensions in this penthouse will disappear and her dad will absolutely love him. Just like everyone else in her life so far.

“So, Scott. I heard you were also big on football during high school?” Travis asks, sitting down right in front of him at the dining table. Scott looks at him, no smile in sight. He nods.

“Yup, I was a running back for five years.”

“Oh wow.” Travis laughs, obviously relieved that the two have found a topic to discuss. “That’s awesome. Did you ever think about doing it professionally?”

“I was a Finance major. So football was obviously just a hobby. Nothing more.”

“Yeah, I get it. For me, was quite the opposite. Sports was always the only thing I was good at, so..”

Scott doesn’t react. Silence. Travis looks up at him, has run out of things to say. Her dad clearly isn’t interested in a conversation with him. Instead, the seventy year-old man picks up Eleanor, helping her crawl onto the chair next to him. She shows him her little photo book that her mother has crafted with her, and filled with polaroids of herself and her three cats. Travis watches Scott smile at Eleanor. The shift in his mood couldn’t be more obvious. He’s completely in awe with his granddaughter, as he should be. And he couldn’t be less interested in getting to know him. Travis swallows, feels Taylor’s hand on his back. He can see in her face that she feels the same as him, pretends to put on a smile for him. But he can see right through her. There’s no denying that the mood is off.

“What do you guys want to drink? Water? Sparkling water? Soda?”

“I’ll just get a water. Thanks, honey.” Scott says.

“Coke for you, babe?” she asks Travis. Her hand gently caressing his cheek over his beard.

“I’ll just.. get a water. Thanks, babe.”

She doesn’t say anything, and Travis wasn’t the only one feeling her father’s eyes on him. Taylor walks back into the kitchen, feels herself slowly get angry. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her dad. But she really hopes he gets it together, soon.

“Do you usually just drink sodas for lunch, Travis?”

Taylor places the waterbottle on the countertop with a bang. She’s getting mad, now. One more word and she’s going to loose her patience. Travis has been nothing but kind and polite. Yet her father treats him like a criminal.

“Well, I train a lot. So I need to get my calories in somehow. I try to stick to diet drinks, but.. well sometimes an ice cold coke is just.. refreshing.” he laughs, a little insecure as he doesn’t get a nod back.

“Sodas are the number one reason for type one diabetes in our country. And that goes especially for children, Travis. I always tell Taylor it’s probably safer to have pesticides in the house than to give Eleanor any of these sugar drinks.”

Travis doesn’t say anything, just nods. He asks himself if he was irresponsible these past days. After all, he did drink coke in front of Eleanor and even let her try once when Taylor allowed him to. He gets quiet, understands that there’s no arguing with her dad in this. After all, he’s right.

“Too bad, because all this little girl drinks is coke and fanta and sprite. Oh, and sometimes before bed I add some sugar to her coke. Just makes her more sleepy, I find. The good old sugar crash just does the job.” Taylor says, a hint of anger in her voice. She places the food and water she just brought on top of the hardwood table. Scott just shakes his head, his hand still protectively on Eleanor’s little head.

“Not funny, Taylor.”

“Dad, come on. As if you never drink coke for lunch.”

“Well, I certainly don’t after having cancer.”

“Here goes the good vibes.” Taylor says, angry, looking at Travis. He doesn’t say anything, and she feels horrible for him. Under the table, she reaches for his hand, squeezes it a few times.

“Eat up, guys.” she says then, encouraging the two men to start eating. Eleanor reaches for her glass of water, and starts chugging it down. It gets quiet. Horribly quiet. Travis doesn’t speak, and neither does Scott.

“Grandpa.” Eleanor says, and Taylor has to smirk. Of course her bubbly five-year old would kill these weird vibes today.

“Yes, honey.” Scott says.

“Look at my bracelets.” she says, proudly, showing her grandfather her arm full of friendship bracelets.

“Oh, beauiful. Did you make that all by yourself?”

“Yes, with my friend Emily.”

“That’s awesome.”

“And this one I made with Travy yesterday.” she says proudly, smiling at Travis. He smiles back at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. He always does that whenever Eleanor looks at him with her little eyes. Taylor witnesses the interaction with a smile.

“Travy?”

“Yeah, she… well, my nieces always call me Travy so I told Eleanor she can call me..”

“Taylor. Can I speak with you outside for a second.”

Taylor swallows. For a moment, the entire demeanor around this table has shifted, once again. Travis knows exactly what this is about. He feels guilty all of the sudden. Guilty for having entered Taylor’s life. Guilty for getting closer to Eleanor. He can feel Taylor get more tense. The two adults get up, leave the room to take the stairs up to the rooftop patio. He swallows. He’s definitely lost his appetite now. He just sits there, leans back. A door is closing. Loudly. And then all he hears is yelling. Scott yelling, then Taylor. Then Scott. Then Taylor interrupting him yelling some more. He’s so glad he can’t hear just every word he says. But he knows what this is about. And hearing Taylor yell like this is not something he’s ever witnessed before.

“Travy..” Eleanor mumbles then, looks at Travis confused.

“Is mommy fighting with grandpa?” she asks him, has also put down her fork. He can see in her little blue eyes that she’s worried. And Travis feels even worse. He swallows, takes a deep breath, then sighs.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Eleanor nods.

“I don’t like it when mommy is mad. Because.. because sometimes, she gets sad, too.”

“Yeah, I also hated when my mommy was sad.”

Eleanor nods.

“Maybe grandpa didn’t like my bracelets.” she says then. Travis can’t help but smile suddenly. He can’t believe this beautiful little girl thinks anything she ever did is the reason her mom and grandpa are fighting.

“Hey, give me your hand, girly.” he says then, gently. Eleanor looks at him, and Travis reaches for her small hand on top of the table.

“Listen to me.” he mumbles, “your grandpa absolutely loves your bracelets. Trust me.”

Eleanor nods slowly. He caresses her tiny hand for a second, so long, until Eleanor seems to be lighting up again.

“Travy.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise to send mommy the video of Chauncey and Rambo, okay?”

He smiles gently, then nods.

“I promise.”

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