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Chapter Text

Travis POV

July 2023

The mics were hot, the cameras rolling, and the Kelce brothers were in their element.

“If you’re up on Taylor Swift concerts, there are friendship bracelets,” Travis started, leaning forward into the mic with a grin. “I received a bunch of them there, but I wanted to give Taylor Swift one with my number on it.”

Jason perked up, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee. “Wait—your phone number or your jersey number?”

Travis shot him a look. “You know which one.”

Jason burst into laughter, shaking his head. “You tried to slide your number to Taylor Swift with a friendship bracelet? Oh, come on, man. What happened?”

Travis laughed, leaning back in his chair. “She doesn’t meet anyone, or at least she didn’t wanna meet me, so I took it personal.”

Jason cackled as Travis threw up his hands in mock defeat. “Hey, I shot my shot! Full throttle—you already know.”

The brothers continued their banter, Jason ribbing him while Travis laughed it off, but as the cameras shut off and the team started packing up, the room’s energy shifted.

Travis pulled out his phone, the comments already rolling in online. Fans thought it was funny—most of them, anyway. But others dug a little deeper.

*“As if she’d go for him.”*
*“Stick to football, bro. You’re out of your league.”*
*“She’s not into guys like that.”*

Travis clenched his jaw, the lightness in his chest evaporating.

---

Flashback: Kayla Nicole 2019

It was a crisp fall afternoon, the kind that made you want to stay in and watch football—or at least, that’s what Travis had in mind after winning Friday night. He was exhausted. He’d thrown together a half-decent spread—wings, nachos, the works—when Kayla walked in, heels clicking against the floor like gunfire.

“You’re just gonna sit around all day?” she asked, her tone flat.

Travis looked up from the game, mid-bite of a wing. “It’s Sunday, babe. Football day. You know the drill.”

She scoffed, dropping her bag on the counter. “God, you’re so basic sometimes, Trav. You act like some frat boy who never grew up.”

He blinked, taken aback. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Everything’s a joke to you. You’re always *on*—like some goofy kid. It’s embarrassing sometimes.” She crossed her arms, eyeing him like he was beneath her.

“I thought you liked my sense of humor.”

“I like having a man, Travis. A man who’s put together—polished. You’re… not that.”

Her words hit harder than he cared to admit. He tried to shake it off, flashing her a lopsided grin. “I’m put together. Look—wings, nachos, a six-pack. What else you need?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You don’t get it. You’re lucky to have me, Trav. Don’t forget that. Women like me don’t settle for guys like you forever.”

Travis froze, the playful smile fading. “Guys like me?”

Kayla leaned closer, her voice dropping like a weight. “You’ll never find anyone better than me. Remember that.”

The words echoed in his ears long after she’d left the room.

---

Back in the Present

Travis’s phone buzzed in his hand, snapping him out of the memory. He exhaled sharply, setting it facedown on the table.

“Never find anyone better, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

He shook his head, the stubborn set of his jaw returning. He wasn’t that guy anymore—the one who let someone else decide his worth. Maybe Taylor Swift didn’t know who he was yet, but he’d be damned if he didn’t show her what he was all about.

“Full throttle,” he murmured, pushing his chair back.

It was time to write a different story. It was time to begin again.

Chapter Text

Taylor Swift's POV

Taylor sat curled on her living room couch, absently flipping through photos on her phone while sipping a glass of chilled white wine. It had been a quiet summer day—peaceful, for the most part—but that fragile calm had been shattered by the little ping of a message from her friend Miles Teller.

“Tay, you gotta listen to this. Travis Kelce is shooting his shot.”

The message came with a podcast link. Rolling her eyes but grinning despite herself, Taylor tapped play.

"If you're up on Taylor Swift concerts, there are friendship bracelets," Travis Kelce’s voice boomed through her speakers. He sounded confident, easygoing, and honestly… charming.

"I received a bunch of them there, but I wanted to give Taylor Swift one with my number on it."

Jason Kelce chimed in teasingly. "You mean your jersey number or your phone number?"

"You know which one," Travis shot back, laughing.

And then, the kicker: "She doesn't meet anyone, or at least she didn't wanna meet me, so I took it personal."

Taylor paused the podcast, staring blankly at the screen.

Before she could overthink, another message buzzed in from Miles.

Miles Teller: “I know him, Tay. Met him a few times. Great guy—kind, fun, the real deal. No ego. He’s not like the others.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip.

Taylor: “Miles, don’t start matchmaking me. I just need a break from… men.”

The phone rang. Miles’s name flashed across the screen.

“Ugh,” she muttered, answering. “Don’t tell me he put you up to this?”

“Put me up to it? Nah. I just know you, Tay,” Miles teased. “And I know him. Listen, if you want his number, I’ve got it.”

“Miles…” she started, trying to sound exasperated.

“Fine, fine. Just think about it. He’s a good guy. You deserve someone like that after everything.”

She fell silent, her fingers trailing over the rim of her wine glass. Miles paused too.

“You okay?” he finally asked, softer now.

“I don’t know,” Taylor replied honestly. “It’s just… everything.”
——

Flashback: The Party That Ended It All

Two months earlier.

The backyard glowed softly, fairy lights hanging from every branch and post, casting golden hues over tables cluttered with wine glasses and scattered candles. Taylor floated between her closest friends, laughter on her lips but her eyes always scanning—like she was waiting for something to go wrong.

It didn’t take long.

Matty Healy strolled in an hour late, uninvited, the first sign of trouble. He wore a rumpled blazer over an old band tee and dark sunglasses—*at night*. He moved with the swagger of someone who thought he owned the room, even though no one had asked him to come.

Taylor spotted him immediately, her stomach twisting. *Not tonight.*

She intercepted him before he could get far, grabbing his arm and pulling him off to the side, away from her friends.

“Matty,” she said, her voice sharp but low, trying to contain the tension. “What are you doing here?”

Matty grinned lazily, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Relax, babe. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You weren’t invited,” she bit back. “I told you I was having a quiet night. My friends—my people.”

He swayed a little, his smirk fading just enough to show cracks. “So, what? I’m not your people now?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “That’s not the point, and you know it. Are you drunk?”

Matty snorted, feigning offense. “I had a couple drinks. Don’t act like you’re Mother Theresa, Tay. You’re not better than me.”

“I didn’t say I was!” she snapped, the words bubbling up before she could stop them. She took a breath, lowering her voice. “Matty, please. Just… stay here with me. Sober up. I’ll get you water, we can talk. You don’t have to do this.”

“Do *what*?” he shot back, a cruel edge to his voice. “I’m fine, Taylor. You don’t need to *fix me*, okay?”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” she said softly, her throat tightening. “I just want you to stay.”

Her hand brushed his arm, but he yanked it away like her touch burned him. “Stay? Stay and what? Watch you parade your perfect little life around your perfect little friends?” He sneered, gesturing to the happy crowd behind them. “This isn’t *real*, Taylor. You’re not real.”

The words stung more than she’d ever admit. She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “Why are you doing this? I thought… I thought you loved me.”

Matty scoffed, looking at her like she was the fool. “You think this is love? This isn’t love, Tay. Love’s messy, it’s ugly—it’s not your sugar-coated version of reality.”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please don’t leave. Let me get you a glass of water, and we’ll talk. Please, Matty.”

For a split second, he faltered. His jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. But then he shook his head, laughing bitterly. “You don’t get it. You never will.”

Before she could say another word, Matty turned on his heel and stalked toward the front yard. She chased after him, desperation clawing at her chest.

“Where are you going?” she cried, her bare feet hitting the gravel driveway. “Matty, stop!”

He didn’t listen. He slid into the driver’s seat of a sleek black rental car and slammed the door shut.

Taylor reached the window, knocking on it with trembling hands. “Matty, please don’t do this! You shouldn’t be driving. Just stay here tonight. We can figure this out in the morning!”

He rolled the window down just enough to look at her, his eyes colder than she’d ever seen. “Figure *what* out, Taylor? There’s nothing left to say.”

Before she could respond, he sped off down the darkened street, the tires kicking up gravel as she stood there alone, wrapped in silence.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she watched the tail lights disappear. She whispered into the emptiness, as if he could still hear her.

“Come back.”

The words hung uselessly in the air. He was gone.

---

July 2023

“Taylor?” Miles’s voice pulled her out of the memory. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” she murmured.

She hung up quickly making excuses and did the only thing she knew to do when her thoughts spiraled—she called Abigail.

“Tay, it’s *fate*!” Abigail crowed after Taylor recounted the podcast and Miles’s meddling. “A guy like Travis Kelce? Funny, charming, hot. And a football player? You could have your *summer fling moment*!”

“I don’t want a *fling*,” Taylor protested.

“Well, maybe you need one,” Abigail shot back. “Come on, Tay. You’ve been so serious, so in your head. Go have some fun with someone who doesn’t overthink everything.”

Taylor sighed, fiddling with the chain around her neck. The one she’d once worn with Joe’s initial now felt like dead weight, but taking it off had felt too final.

“You know what?” Abigail said. “Text him. Go full throttle, as he’d say.”

Taylor snorted. “Fine. If I text him, will you shut up about it?”

“Absolutely not.”

But Taylor was already unlocking her phone, finding the number Miles had sent over.

Hey Travis, I heard you wanted to give me a friendship bracelet with your number. How about we make that happen? 😊 - Taylor

Her thumb hovered over the send button for what felt like an eternity. Finally, with a small breath, she pressed it.

“Sent,” she said quietly.

On the other end of the line, Abigail let out a triumphant whoop. “It’s happening!”

Taylor set her phone down, heart pounding. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be worse than the ghosts of her past.

Could it?

Chapter Text

Travis POV

Travis Kelce was halfway through a post-workout smoothie when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to check it, still towel-drying his damp hair, and squinted at the unfamiliar number.

Hey Travis, I heard you wanted to give me a friendship bracelet with your number. How about we make that happen? 😊 - Taylor

Travis froze, his first thought being, This has to be a joke. He reread the message, half-expecting a follow-up saying, Gotcha, bro! from one of his friends. His mind raced.

Who would even think to pull this off? Jason? Nah, he wouldn’t go this far. Pat? Too busy.

Before he could decide whether to laugh or block the number, his phone lit up again—this time with an incoming call from Miles Teller.

"Yo, man," Miles said as soon as Travis answered, his voice casual. "Before you do something stupid like block a certain someone, let me just say—you’re welcome."

Travis blinked. "Miles, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Taylor. Swift. The one and only," Miles drawled. "She asked for your number, and I gave it to her. Figured you'd want the heads-up before you went full Travis and thought you were getting punked."

Travis grabbed the back of a kitchen chair to steady himself. "Wait, wait, wait. That text is *real?*"

"Real as it gets, buddy," Miles confirmed. "She told me she liked your little podcast comment about the bracelet. Thought it was cute."

Travis let out a laugh, part disbelief, part nervous energy. "Man, you’re messing with me. She’s Taylor Swift. *Taylor Swift.* Why the hell would she text me?"

Miles sighed, his tone turning more serious. "Look, Trav, I wouldn’t joke about this. But listen, she’s… going through it right now. Just be cool, alright? I mean don’t be afraid but she’s still getting over that Matty guy—total trainwreck, by the way. So, if you’re gonna call her, just take it easy."

Travis sat down, letting Miles’s words sink in. "Heartbreak, huh? I mean, I’ve been there."

"Exactly. So, don’t screw it up," Miles said with a chuckle. "And don’t, for the love of God, bring up the fact that my wife and I introduced her to that Matty clown. Long story."

Travis laughed despite himself. "Noted. Alright, I’ll call her. Thanks, man."

"Good luck, Romeo," Miles said before hanging up.

Travis stared at the screen for a moment, his heart racing. He ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and hit *Call*.

The phone barely rang twice before her voice came through, soft and melodic. "Hello?"

"Uh, hey, Taylor. It’s Travis."

There was a pause, and then she laughed—a small, breathy sound that instantly put him at ease. "Hey, Travis. I wasn’t sure you’d actually call."

"Alright now! Honestly, I wasn’t sure this was real," he admitted, grinning. "Thought someone was messing with me."

She laughed again. "Nope, it’s really me. So, should I be worried you’re already doubting everything I say?"

"Nah, I’m just still processing that *Taylor Swift* actually texted me," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You made my whole week, not gonna lie."

The conversation flowed easily from there—light teasing, talk about the bracelet comment, and a bit about their favorite concert moments. But as the hours ticked by, their laughter softened, and the conversation deepened.

Taylor shared bits of her life—the highs of performing for millions and the loneliness that came with it. Travis, in turn, opened up about his family, his career, and the times he’d felt lost despite all his success.

But as he talked, an old memory crept in, uninvited.

---
Flashback: 2021

It was a summer barbecue, a rare off-season gathering with friends and teammates. Kayla had shown up late, as usual, her designer heels sinking into the grass.

"You’re really out here grilling in socks?" she’d said loudly, drawing laughs from a few people nearby.

Travis had laughed it off, but the comment stung. Later, when he tried to tell her about a funny story Jason had shared, she cut him off with a bored sigh. "You’re so lame sometimes, Trav. Why do you always have to be * that guy?"

The worst part wasn’t her words—it was the way his friends exchanged glances, like they wanted to say something but didn’t dare.

"She’s just stressed," he’d told himself. But deep down, he knew the truth. Kayla had never wanted *him*—she’d wanted the image of him.

---

"You still there?" Taylor’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

"Yeah, sorry," he said quickly. "Just thinking."

"About what?" she asked gently.

He hesitated, then decided to be honest. "About how… different this feels already. Like, talking to you, it’s just easy. I don’t feel like I have to be someone I’m not."

Taylor was quiet for a moment, then said, "I know exactly what you mean."

Travis smiled, letting her words settle over him. Maybe Miles was right—maybe he just needed to take it slow.

"Hey," he said, his voice lighter now. "If we’re being honest, I still owe you that friendship bracelet."

Taylor laughed, the sound making his chest feel lighter. "You’ve got my number now, Kelce. Consider that a head start."

Chapter Text

Taylor's POV

August 2023

The screen lit up with Travis’ name, and Taylor smiled instinctively as she answered the FaceTime call. It had become a nightly ritual—his grinning face appearing on her screen just as the world outside her window turned quiet.

“Hey, superstar,” Travis said, his voice bright, the corner of his lips pulling into a playful smirk. He was lying on his bed in his dorm at Chiefs training camp, his red t-shirt slightly rumpled, hair damp from a post-practice shower.

“Hey, football star,” Taylor teased back, propping her phone against the stack of pillows on her bed as she settled in. “How’d it go today?”

“Oh, you know, just out there grinding, full throttle. Coach Reid’s got us running till we drop,” Travis replied dramatically, throwing his arms out like he’d collapsed on the spot. “You’d think I was out there saving the world or something.”

She laughed, the sound soft and genuine. It had been years since someone made her laugh this much, and she let herself enjoy it. What a surprise you are, Travis Kelce she thought.

“Can’t have you falling apart on me, Kelce,” she teased. “I need you to keep up with me if we’re doing this whole… talking thing.”

“Trust me,” he shot back, leaning closer into the camera as if sharing a secret. “I can keep up, Swift. I’m just getting warmed up.”

They fell into easy conversation, the kind of late-night ramblings that didn’t require effort—Travis telling her ridiculous stories from camp, like his rookie teammate who couldn’t figure out how to work a washing machine, or how the guys kept stealing his snacks. Taylor filled him in on studio sessions and shared snippets of lyrics she’d jotted down that day.

“What are you working on now?” he asked.

“Something about… I don’t know, the way life sneaks up on you when you’re not looking. Little moments turning into big ones,” she said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s still messy, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Messy can be good,” Travis replied, his voice quieter now. “Some of the best stuff starts messy.”

She paused, her gaze lingering on his face through the screen. His words felt heavy with meaning, like he knew there was more behind hers.

The best stuff does start messy. But so does the worse.

---

Flashback: Late-April 2023

The speakers blared in her empty house, echoing through the hollow stillness of the early morning. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a half-empty glass of wine beside her.

“You’re impossible, Matty.”

He leaned against the doorway, his leather jacket still on, his expression unreadable. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, biting back the frustration building in her chest. “You disappeared for three days, Matty. Three. Without a word. Do you know what that feels like? To go from everything to nothing?”

Matty scoffed, stepping forward and tossing his keys onto her coffee table. “Jesus, Tay, calm down. You sound like every other girl I’ve ever dated. So needy.”

The words hit her like a slap. Her jaw tightened, the wine suddenly sour on her tongue. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? You’re *comparing* me to them now?”

“Well, maybe you should take the hint,” he shot back, his tone low and cutting. “You’re not the first, Taylor. And honestly? You’re not exactly easy either. Always needing the grand gestures, the words, the reassurance.”

She felt her chest cave in, but she refused to let him see it. “I never asked for grand gestures. I just wanted you to care enough to show up.”

Matty shrugged, dismissive. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

The silence sat between them like poison, heavy and inescapable. He moved to sit on her couch, pulling out his phone and scrolling like the argument had already ended. She sat there, staring at the man she’d let into her life—the man who had swept her up in chaos after the quiet end of her relationship with Joe.

She remembered those first few days—how exhilarating it had felt to be seen again, how Matty had made her feel alive when she thought she’d forgotten how. The wild nights, the dizzy highs. But now… now she felt small. Like she was fading into the version of herself he’d decided she should.

Matty glanced up, his expression unreadable. “What do you want from me, Taylor? Hm? Another big talk about feelings?” His tone was laced with condescension, each word sharpening the invisible knife in her chest.

“This isn’t a big talk,” she shot back, the frustration boiling over. “You disappear for days, come back like nothing happened, and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”

He sighed theatrically, sliding his phone onto the table. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, tears welling but refusing to fall. “You disappear, you ignore me, and then you walk in here and I’m the crazy one?”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, standing up now, towering just slightly as he moved toward the door. “You knew who I was when you started this, Tay. I didn’t sign up for—”

“For what?” she challenged, cutting him off. “For someone who actually cares about you? Who’s not just here for the chaos?”

Matty froze in place, eyes narrowing like her words had landed. “Careful, Taylor,” he said quietly, his voice a warning.

But she couldn’t stop. Not now. The hurt, the anger—it was all pouring out. “I let you into my life. I let you matter to me, I try to convince my Mom and Daddy you’re a good guy, how much I love you and all you do is take and take and—”

“Oh, give me a break!” Matty exploded suddenly, spinning on his heel. “This ‘thing’ you’re talking about? This isn’t love, Taylor. This is you clinging to the first wild thing you could find after your beige, boring little life with Joe.”

The air left the room, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut.

“How dare you,” she whispered.

He stepped closer, unrelenting. “I’m not your savior. I’m not here to fix whatever hole you’re trying to fill.”

She swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears fall. “Don’t you dare act like you didn’t chase me. Like you didn’t say you wanted this too.”

Matty scoffed, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re exhausting, Taylor. This is exhausting. You need someone who can keep up with your little fairy tale fantasies, and that’s not me.”

Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating. Taylor stood frozen, her heart racing. She wanted to scream, to beg him to stay, to tell him he was wrong—that this was love. That she needed him.

Instead, she whispered, “Please don’t go.”

He glanced up, his expression softening just slightly, but he didn’t move closer. “I’m tired, Tay. Can we not do this tonight?”

The fight drained out of her. She wanted to scream, to demand more, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. He’d already decided she wasn’t worth it.

---

August 2023: Present Day

“Earth to Taylor?” Travis’s voice jolted her back to the present.

Taylor blinked, staring at his face on the screen, so steady and warm as he waited for her to say something. They’d been talking for hours, as they did most nights now, but tonight, it felt different—quieter, heavier. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, or maybe it was the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

She hesitated, her throat tight. “Travis… I just need to remind you, this… whatever this is, it’s just for fun.”

The words didn’t feel light, though she tried to laugh, to play it off. Her heart was racing, that familiar panic rising up, whispering to her that this was too quick, too easy. She knew this feeling—falling before she could stop herself, getting swept up.

Travis didn’t miss a beat. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Tay,” he said simply, his voice steady. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Her breath caught. “Travis—”

“I mean it,” he said, softer now. “If you want to keep it light, we’ll keep it light. If you want more, I’m here for that, too.”

He smiled, like it was that simple. But it wasn’t.

Her mind flashed back to Matty: the silences that stretched too long, the words that cut too deep. “You’re exhausting, Taylor. This is exhausting.” The sting of being too much for someone who couldn’t keep up. The hurt she’d buried came back too easily, making her chest feel heavy.

She shifted, forcing a small smile. “I—I should probably get some sleep,” she said quietly.

Travis frowned, his concern slipping through. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” she lied. “Long day.”

“Alright.” He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Sleep well, Tay.”

“You too,” she murmured, and ended the call.

The screen went dark, leaving her staring at nothing. She dropped the phone onto the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest, her heart still racing—not from excitement this time, but something else. The quiet in the room was too much, pressing in around her as the doubts swirled louder in her head.

‘It’s just for fun.’ She’d said it out loud, but it didn’t feel true.

Taylor curled into herself, the ache in her chest familiar, too familiar. She closed her eyes, but sleep felt as far away as it had back in April.

---

Chapter Text

August 2023

Travis sat on his bed, the phone call with Taylor still echoing in his mind. He hadn’t expected the sudden shift in her tone, the way she’d closed off, almost as if she was retreating into herself. He could hear her words, but it was the silence in between that unsettled him. What had changed?

His thoughts started spiraling, and the feeling of uncertainty grew, especially when his mind drifted back to a time when he’d felt similarly—unsure of his worth, of his place in someone’s life. A breakup with Kayla Nicole.

——

May 2020

The memory replayed in Travis’ mind like a bad highlight reel as he lay sprawled on his training camp bed. It was May 2020, early in lockdown, and he’d been at home more than ever before. For someone like him, someone who thrived on the structure of practices and games, the sudden stillness had been suffocating.

Kayla had moved in just before the world shut down, and at first, it had seemed like a good idea—like maybe the extra time together would bring them closer. But as the days bled into weeks, the cracks turned into craters.

“Travis, I swear to God, if you don’t put that controller down and act like a grown man, I’ll break your damn hand,” Kayla snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He froze mid-game, his fingers hovering over the buttons. He let out an awkward laugh, trying to play it off. “Relax, it’s just—”

“It’s not *just* anything!” she yelled, standing with her arms crossed in the living room doorway. “You sit there for hours playing those stupid games like some teenage loser. I’m sick of it, Travis. Grow up.”

Before he could say a word, Ross—who’d been staying with him for a while to keep up his training regimen during the madness—walked in from the kitchen. The look on his face said it all.

Later that night, as Kayla disappeared into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, Ross pulled Travis aside.

“You know that’s not okay, right?” Ross asked, his voice low, careful.

Travis shrugged, trying to laugh it off. “Come on, she didn’t mean it like that.”

Ross wasn’t smiling. “Trav, she threatened you. That’s abuse, man.”

Hearing the word out loud felt like a punch to the gut. Travis stood there, all 6’4” and 250 pounds of him, suddenly feeling small. How could someone like him—big, strong, unshakable—be afraid of anyone? But in that moment, he couldn’t deny the truth. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, not even to himself, but he *had* been afraid. Not just of her words, but of what they said about him.

That night, he decided he’d had enough. He told Kayla the next morning it wasn’t working, that they needed space. She cried, she screamed, she turned it around on him. And for a moment, he felt relief. He was free.

But she came back. And at his weakest moment, she convinced him to let her in again.

——

August 2023

The memory faded, but the pit in his stomach lingered. Is that what I’m doing again? Setting myself up for something I can’t handle?

His phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with a call from Jason. Travis swiped to answer.

“What’s up, big bro?”

“Not much. Just checking in—you good?” Jason’s voice was easygoing as always, but Travis could tell he was being nosy.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Travis replied, trying to sound casual.

Jason wasn’t buying it. “Bull. You sound distracted. What’s going on? Girl trouble?”

Travis hesitated, his mind drifting back to Taylor. He still hadn’t told anyone about her—not yet. “I mean… I’ve been talking to someone. She’s pretty special.”

Jason whistled on the other end. “Special, huh? That’s new for you.”

Travis chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not like that. She’s made it clear this is just some fun, nothing serious.”

Jason paused. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Travis lied. “I’m fine with it. She’s… she’s incredible. And I don’t wanna screw it up…I guess I’m not sure if I’m good enough for her.”

“You’re not gonna screw it up,” Jason said firmly. “You’re a good guy, Trav. Kayla Nicole was wrong to make you think you weren’t. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not enough.”

The words hit him like a lifeline, easing some of the weight on his chest.

“Thanks, Jase,” he said quietly.

“Anytime. Just don’t overthink it. If she’s special, show her.”

---

The next morning, Travis sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, staring at the florist app on his screen. He felt ridiculous, second-guessing every word he wrote in the note that would go with the yellow roses ‘Yellow roses are a symbol of friendship and joy,’ he read. Perfect.

Finally, he settled on something simple but honest:

Taylor,
Thought you could use a little sunshine today. No pressure, just a guy who likes talking to you.
- Travis

He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

---

Hours later, Taylor called him.

“You sent me flowers,” she said, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

“You sound surprised,” Travis teased lightly, leaning back on the bed.

“I guess I am,” Taylor replied. “Not a lot of people… do things like that for me.”

“Well, they should,” he said simply.

There was a pause before she spoke again. “Thank you, Travis. Seriously.”

He smiled. “Anytime, Tay. Anytime.”

They fell into easy conversation after that, drifting toward talk of the past—of relationships that had shaped them. Taylor was careful with her words, her tone guarded. “It’s not that I don’t believe in love,” she admitted quietly, “it’s just… I’ve rushed into things before. And I don’t want to do that again. I can’t make any promises. I just want to have some fun right now.”

Travis nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “I get it girl. I’ve been there.”

Another pause, then Taylor spoke again, this time firmer. “So, this is just fun. But if you’re up for that… come to New York after training camp.”

Travis blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” she replied. “If you’re game.”

He grinned, his heart racing. “I’m game, Tay.”

“Good,” she said, her voice lighter now, like she was smiling. “Then I’ll see you soon, Trav.”

As the call ended, Travis sat back and exhaled, the smile still stuck on his face. For now, it was just fun. But even he could admit—he was already in deeper than he’d planned.

And he wasn’t sure he cared.

---

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV
---
Taylor’s Tribeca home was bathed in soft golden light as the evening crept in. The scent of freshly cooked pasta lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the woody vanilla candle burning on the coffee table. She adjusted the throw pillows for the third time and told herself not to be nervous. It’s just fun. He’s just a guy. A big, charming, funny football player who makes you laugh more than you have in years.
And yet, her pulse raced like a teenage crush as she heard the faint buzz of security announcing Travis had arrived.
“Send him up,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
As she waited, knowing security and someone in her PR team was going through the protocols and NDA, Taylor caught her reflection in the glass of the window overlooking the city—the place she had loved, lost, and rebuilt herself so many times. She smoothed her dark silk tank, adjusting it where it tucked into her shorts. Casual, but just right. And not trying too hard.
When she looked up Travis Kelce stood there—6’4”, filling the doorway like he was born to own it. His smile was wide and warm, and his eyes lit up as they swept over her. He held up a bottle of wine and a bouquet of wildflowers, wild and perfect, wrapped in brown paper.
“You look great,” he said.
She stepped aside to let him in, masking the way her breath caught at how ridiculously handsome he looked—red shirt, dark jeans, his usual confidence dialed back just a notch in what she guessed was nerves. She liked seeing that.
“You didn’t have to bring flowers,” she said, but her smile betrayed how much it meant.
“Didn’t seem right to show up empty-handed,” he replied with a little shrug, setting the flowers on the counter. “Besides, you deserve ‘em.”
---
Dinner was easy. Too easy.
They sat at her table, laughing and teasing, Travis telling stories about camp and his teammates. Taylor found herself grinning so much her cheeks hurt, marveling at how natural it all felt. She was so used to men who tried to impress her or worse—ones who were intimidated by her. But Travis was just… himself. Unapologetic, hilarious, but grounded.
“Are you always this much of a showman?” she teased, swirling her glass of wine.
“Only when I’ve got an audience worth impressing,” he shot back with that megawatt grin.
It hit her square in the chest. Her fingers curled around the stem of her glass as she looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were kind, but there was heat in them too—heat she wasn’t ready to name.
“Dangerous,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She stood abruptly, gathering the empty plates. “Do you want coffee or dessert? I’ve got ice cream, chai cookies…”
He laughed, helping her with the plates. “I’ll take whatever you’re having.”
It wasn’t until they settled onto her couch, with a plate of chai cookies between them, that the energy shifted. The city glowed beyond the windows, the room quieter now, save for the hum of her record player spinning some soft acoustic album she’d forgotten about.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat cookies with such enthusiasm,” she said, watching him take another bite.
“What can I say? They’re amazing. I’m a simple guy. Doesn’t take much to make me happy.”
Her smile faltered. Simple. It was such a foreign word to her life—nothing about her world was ever simple. Not her career, not her relationships, and certainly not the way she felt around him.
“Taylor?”
She blinked, realizing she’d been staring into her bowl. “Sorry. Zoned out.”
“Thinking about another song lyric?” he teased gently.
She smirked. “Maybe.”
But her mind was already drifting, memories resurfacing—memories she hadn’t invited.

---

Flashback – Early Days with Joe Alwyn
Autumn 2016. LA.
The rain drizzled softly against the windowpane as Taylor lounged on Joe’s tiny sofa in his rented alarrment, her feet tucked under her, a mug of tea warming her hands. He sat across from her on the floor, his blue eyes bright as he recited lines from some script he was auditioning with.
They were keeping it light. Casual. That was the rule. No expectations, no declarations. After the madness that had defined the end of her previous relationships, this quiet space with Joe felt like a gift.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she’d said when she caught him staring.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re… seeing something I don’t want you to see.”
He’d smiled softly, tilting his head. “And what’s that?”
She hesitated. “That I’m already in too deep.”
Joe had leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I am too.”
It had felt like magic then—effortless and warm. But even in those early days, she’d known. She’d known that the quiet would turn to noise eventually, that the weight of who she was would press against the bubble they’d created. And it had.
---
Present Day
The air between them had shifted after dinner. It was tangible, electric—crackling like a live wire as Travis leaned back on the couch, his smile easy, his laugh still echoing in her ears. She should’ve felt in control of this moment—of him—but she didn’t.
Not even close.
He had a way of pulling her in without even trying. Maybe it was his eyes, impossibly open despite the life he led. Or his voice—low, unhurried, like nothing could shake him.
Or maybe it was the fact that he felt too damn real.
She tried to stay in the moment, forcing herself to sip her wine, to laugh at the right parts of his stories. But her heart was racing faster than it should’ve been. Something had taken hold of her, something she wasn’t ready to name, and it left her feeling breathless—cornered.
This was supposed to be fun. Casual. A distraction.
So why did it feel like something else entirely?
Taylor closed her eyes, the lyrics swirling in her mind like a whisper she couldn’t quite escape:
‘And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for.
King of my heart, body, and soul.’

No. She wouldn’t let herself go there.
---
The air in her house felt different with Travis in it. Something crackled—an energy that hummed low and dangerous, like a storm waiting to roll in. Taylor tried to ignore it, settling two glasses of wine on the coffee table as she rejoined him on the sofa.
She hadn’t meant for this to feel like a date. A casual hangout, that’s what she’d told herself. But nothing about Travis Kelce felt casual. He took up space in ways that couldn’t be ignored—physically, yes, with his broad shoulders and towering frame—but emotionally too. It was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the room worth seeing. Like she mattered.
She sank down beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, but not touching. She wouldn’t let herself.
Travis leaned back, spreading his long legs out as he sipped his drink. “So, what’s the plan, Swift? Movie? More music talk? Or are you gonna play me an unreleased song and ruin my ability to listen to anyone else for the rest of my life?”
She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious!” he shot back, grinning that easy, knee-weakening grin of his. “You play something, and it’s game over for my playlist. You don’t play fair.”
Taylor laughed, shaking her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not my fault you’re easily impressed.”
“Wrong,” Travis said, his voice dropping lower, softer. “I’m not easily impressed at all.”
The words landed in her chest, startling her. She glanced up to find him watching her, his gaze steady, searching. It was too much—too real. She dropped her eyes back to her drink, swirling the liquid around the glass.
There it was again. That pull. That dangerous pull she couldn’t name but could feel. It tugged at her, whispering promises of things she wasn’t ready for.

Her heart skipped a beat—one beat too many.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled him closer, crashing her lips against his in a way that felt more like surrender than anything else.
It wasn’t gentle this time. It was heat and hunger and frustration. She kissed him like she was trying to convince herself this was just physical, like it could only be physical.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, Travis,” she said suddenly, pulling away, blurting the words out before she lost her nerve. “Just… fun. That’s all this is.”
Travis didn’t flinch. If anything, his expression softened, like he could see right through her words to the fear underneath. “Okay,” he said simply. “Fun works.”
She searched his face for sarcasm or pushback but found nothing. It would have been easier if he argued or teased her. Instead, he just sat there, patient and unmoving.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“What else is there?” He shrugged, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You set the pace, Tay. I told you—I’ll follow your lead.”
Her heart skittered in her chest. It was the gentleness in his voice that unnerved her most. Men like Travis weren’t supposed to be gentle. Men like him were supposed to take, to push, to demand. But here he was, waiting for her to decide.
And that was what scared her. Because it made her want to choose him.
“Want another drink?” she asked, her voice tight as she stood abruptly.
“Nah,” Travis replied, watching her closely now. “I’m good.”
Taylor turned toward the kitchen, trying to catch her breath. She could feel his eyes on her, tracking every step, every move. Heat pooled low in her stomach, impossible to ignore.
Just do it, a voice whispered. Fuck him and get it out of your system. That’s all this is.
She turned back to him, her pulse hammering. “Come on,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
Travis arched an eyebrow, like he knew exactly what she meant but was going to let her have the illusion of control. “Lead the way.”
She took him down the hallway, her heart pounding with every step. When they reached her bedroom, she pushed open the door, her fingers trembling slightly on the handle.
“This is me,” she said, her voice softer now.
Travis lingered in the doorway, his gaze barely sweeping over the room before settling back on her. “Nice.”
Taylor’s breath caught. The space between them felt like it was charged with electricity. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious.
“This is a bad idea,” she murmured, half to herself.

She met his gaze—steady, open, unrelenting. For a second, she thought about stopping, about retreating before she lost herself completely. But she couldn’t. Not with the way he was looking at her, like she was magic and he couldn’t believe he’d found her.
Her hands went to the hem of her tank, pulling it over her head before she could second-guess herself.
Travis’s eyes darkened, his jaw going slack as he took her in. “Jesus, Tay…”
She shifted under his gaze, he stepped closer, reaching out to gently trail his fingers along her bare shoulder.
“You don’t even know,” he murmured, shaking his head in wonder. “You’re unreal.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine. There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt—just pure awe, like he couldn’t believe she was standing in front of him.

Before she could respond, he cupped her face in his massive hands, his touch so careful it nearly undid her. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint.
She swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The kiss that followed was like striking a match against gasoline. Taylor melted against him, any hesitation dissolving in the heat of it. Travis kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like he needed to savor every inch of her, every shaky breath she gave him. He didn’t rush—he let her feel him, let her get used to the weight of him, the size of him, the sheer force of his presence against her body.
By the time they tumbled onto the bed, Taylor was already breathless, her skin flushed with want. Travis was everywhere—strong, solid, overwhelming in the best way. He covered her, pressing her into the mattress, his hands tracing the lines of her body with a reverence that made her chest ache. He worshiped her with every touch, every whispered reassurance, every stroke of his lips against her skin.
When his mouth traveled lower, kissing the soft curves of her stomach, she tensed instinctively. That was the part of her body she tried not to think about, the part the media had torn apart for years. The endless pregnancy rumors, the cruel headlines, the scrutiny.
Travis looked up at her, eyes dark with something deeper than lust. “God, you’re beautiful, Tay. You’re perfect. Is this okay?”
She couldn’t speak, could only nod as emotion thickened in her throat. And then he was tasting her, slow and purposeful, his tongue flickering against her as his fingers teased and stretched her, opening her up in a way that had her gasping his name. The pleasure was so intense, so consuming, she nearly forgot everything else—until she turned her head and saw him, still achingly hard, still impossibly *huge*.
Her stomach flipped. She wanted him. She *wanted* this. But could she even take him?

Travis caught the hesitation in her eyes immediately. “Tay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hip, “you don’t have to do this. This was perfect. *You* are perfect.”
Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. But she wasn’t stopping now. Not when she had needed to get this out of her system.
“Fuck no,” she breathed, reaching for him, wrapping a hand around his thick length with more confidence than she felt. “I want this. All of this.”
Travis groaned, burying his face in her neck for a moment before pulling back. “I wasn’t expecting this, and I—fuck—I don’t have anything with me.”
She reached into her bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and pressing it into his palm. He tore it open, rolling it down his thick shaft—or trying to. It barely covered a quarter of the way before stretching tight. He let out a rough laugh, shaking his head. “I only use Magnums, baby, but nothing is stopping me from fucking you right now.” Heat coiled in her stomach at the promise in his voice, and she watched as he adjusted the condom, making sure it was as secure as it could be. Then he was pressing against her entrance, nudging so carefully, so slowly—but the second the head breached her, she knew this was going to hurt. Her body seized up instantly at the stretch, and a sharp gasp ripped from her lips. The burn was immediate, a deep, insistent ache that made her fingers dig into his shoulders. “Oh,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his biceps. Travis froze. “Talk to me, baby. Does it hurt?” She nodded, eyes squeezed shut. Too big. Too much. “Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No,” she panted, squeezing her eyes shut. “I just—I need a second.”
His jaw clenched, but he nodded, carefully pulling out. He leaned down, pressing kisses along her collarbone, her chest, her stomach, whispering reassurances as his fingers replaced his cock, stretching her slowly, deliberately, working her open again.
She trembled beneath him. *Too much. Not enough.*

“Don’t let me come,” she pleaded, breathless, on the edge again. “I’ll be too sensitive.”

Travis groaned against her, his restraint evident as he pulled back, kissing her swollen lips. “You’re killing me, baby.”
He moved over her again, positioning himself at her entrance, and this time, she forced her body to relax. He pushed in—just a little—and paused, letting her adjust before easing in another inch. And another. The pain lingered, but this time it was edged with something else, something warmer.
He held still once he was halfway in, his massive frame trembling as he watched her. Worshiped her. “Talk to me, Tay. Tell me what you need.”

She took a deep breath. “Just—give me a second.”

He kissed her nose, her cheeks, her lips, whispering soft praises until the sting dulled. When she finally nodded, he pressed in another inch. Then another. It took *forever*, but at last, he was fully inside her, stretching her beyond anything she’d ever felt before.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

Taylor swallowed, adjusting to the way he filled her completely, leaving no part of her untouched. “You can move,” she whispered. “Slowly.”
Travis exhaled harshly and obeyed, rolling his hips in the smallest, slowest movements, letting her get used to him. It wasn’t instant—she had to breathe through it, had to *let go* of the pain—but then something shifted. The pressure turned to something deeper, something more.
And then he hit something inside her that sent a bolt of pleasure up her spine.

“Travis,” she gasped, clutching at his back. “Oh my God.”
That was all he needed. His pace quickened, still controlled, but now driven by raw need. And then his hand slipped between them, his large fingers finding her clit, circling it in slow, devastating strokes.
Taylor’s body jolted at the sensation, her pleasure mounting too quickly, too intensely. The fullness, the friction, the overwhelming sensation of *him* consumed her completely.
“Oh—oh fuck, Travis, *please*—”
The pressure built unbearably, waves of pleasure crashing through her. Her body clenched around him, her orgasm hitting her so hard she nearly sobbed. It was too much, too intense, spreading from her core in rolling, uncontrollable waves.
Travis groaned, his rhythm faltering as he thrust deep, shuddering against her as his own release tore through him. His body tensed, his breath ragged, and she felt him pulse inside her, the condom the only barrier between them.

And when he finally pressed his forehead to hers, groaning her name as he came like it was something sacred, she knew she was done for.

They lay there, tangled, panting, shaking. After a long moment, Travis pressed a lingering kiss to her lips
“You okay?” he murmured, brushing damp hair from her face.
She exhaled shakily, letting her body melt into his. “Yeah,” she whispered. “More than okay.”
Travis kissed her forehead, rubbing soothing circles into her back. “Good,” he murmured. “Because that was fucking incredible.”
They lay there, tangled, panting, shaking. After a long moment, Travis pressed a lingering kiss to her lips before carefully pulling out. He reached for the nightstand, rolling off the condom and tying it before disposing of it. Then he was back, pulling her into his chest, wrapping her in warmth and safety.
Taylor tried to tell herself it was just a good fuck, that it didn’t mean anything. But as her body softened against his, her head tucked beneath his chin, her breath synced with his steady inhales, her mind went blissfully, finally, quiet. And before she could overthink it, she was asleep in his arms.

---
The next morning, Taylor lay tangled in her sheets, staring at the ceiling. Travis’s arm was draped over her waist, his slow, even breathing filling the quiet of the room.
She turned her head to look at him, her heart squeezing at the sight.
What did you do, Taylor?
He looked so peaceful, so content—like he belonged there.
But that was the problem. He didn’t.
This was supposed to be fun. Easy. A way to get him out of her system.
And yet…
She slipped out of bed, pulling on a robe as she padded to the kitchen to make coffee. Her body ached in ways she hadn’t felt before, but it was the ache in her chest that worried her most.
Because last night hadn’t felt like fun. It had felt like magic.
And magic, she knew, always came with a price.

Chapter Text

Cruel Summer

September 2023
Travis’s POV

Travis wasn’t sure how it had happened so fast, but Taylor had slipped into his life and taken up residence in his head. Two weekends together, and already, he was struggling to imagine going back to life without her.

Afternoons blended into late nights, lost in conversation and laughter, hands drifting, mouths finding each other between half-finished stories. They’d drink wine and talk about everything under the sun, then end up tangled in bed, unable to stop touching. Mornings came too soon, cozy and slow, the scent of coffee mixing with whatever she’d decided to cook, before they’d work out together in her gym.

She was unlike anyone he’d ever met—quick and sharp, always ten steps ahead of him in a way that made his brain fire on all cylinders just trying to keep up. But she was goofy too, and loved to laugh. And she was kind, genuinely kind, the type of person who paid attention, who cared in ways that felt effortless.

And then there was the chemistry—undeniable, electric, the kind of thing that made him reach for her even when he knew he should pace himself.

But Taylor had been clear from the start: this was just fun.

“Remember that,” she’d said more than once, almost like she was reminding herself.

And maybe he should have remembered. But how the hell was he supposed to, when she was her?

—-
The second weekend he spent in New York, Travis woke up sore in the best fucking way. His body ached from how hard he’d taken her, from how deep he’d been inside her, from how many times he’d wrung her out until she was a trembling mess beneath him.

Taylor was sprawled beside him, tangled in the sheets, her skin warm, still littered with proof of him—his hands, his mouth, his body. She looked ruined in the best way, and fuck if that didn’t light something dangerous in his chest.

Then he saw them. The scattered wrappers on the floor. Magnums. The ones she’d had for him.

His eyes flicked to the nightstand, where the draw was open and the box sat, nearly empty. Not the normal ones from his first visit last weekend. That box had disappeared.

Something hot and possessive curled in his gut.

He reached for the box, tilting it so the last few condoms slid toward him. Mine, he thought, smirking as he ran a finger over them. That’s mine. And that. And that one too.

She wasn’t stocking up for anyone else. Just him.

His hand slid down Taylor’s spine, gripping her hip as he pressed a lazy kiss to her shoulder.
He traced gentle fingers down Taylor’s spine, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Mornin’, baby.”

She stretched, sighing, her body shifting against his. “Mmm. Morning.”

His hand skimmed lower, cupping her hip, already wanting more but restraining himself. “You sleep okay, baby?” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. He already knew the answer. He’d fucked her too good for anything else.

She hummed, turning into him, her lips brushing his jaw. “Yeah, but…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I want you again.”

His stomach clenched, hunger surging through him all over again. “Yeah?”

She nodded, shifting her thighs slightly, and he caught the tiniest wince. “But I’m so sore.”

Travis groaned, dropping his face into her neck, his voice rough with need. “Jesus, baby. You’re killin’ me.”

She laughed softly, but there was heat in her gaze as she traced her fingers over his chest, nails scraping lightly over his skin. “I just need a little time to recover.”

His mouth curved into a smirk, but his hand was already moving, drifting to her breast. He was obsessed with them—always wanting them bare, always finding reasons to touch, cup, tease. His palm molded over her soft skin, fingers flexing, testing her weight in his hand like he’d never get enough.

And fuck, he wouldn’t.

“Still sensitive?” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her already-peaked nipple.

Taylor let out a sharp inhale, her back arching into his touch. She was still so wrecked from the night before, her body bearing the proof of him—love bites trailing down her neck, his marks scattered over her breasts, dark against her pale skin. The sight did something to him, something deep and primal, and he felt heat curl low in his gut.

His head dipped, mouth latching onto the soft swell of her breast, sucking deep. She gasped, fingers flying to his hair, thighs squeezing together as his tongue flicked over her already tender skin.

“Travis,” she breathed, voice barely there, but fuck, the way she said his name sent a bolt of need straight through him.

He grinned against her, biting down just enough to make her jolt, then soothing it with his tongue. “You love this, don’t you?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

She whimpered, her body melting beneath him. “Yes.”

He chuckled, palming her breast as he shifted lower, tracing his mouth down to her other nipple. “So greedy for me,” he teased, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. “So fuckin’ responsive.”

Her hips lifted instinctively, her breath stuttering as she reached for him. “Please,” she whispered.

He groaned at that, his cock twitching. Christ, the way she begged.

“Please what, baby?” he drawled, rolling her nipple between his fingers, dragging another desperate sound from her throat. “You want more?”

“Yes,” she gasped, already writhing. “Don’t stop.”

He smirked, sucking another deep bruise into her breast, his teeth scraping lightly over her sensitive skin. “Not a chance.”

He kissed lower, his mouth lingering as he took his time marking her, claiming every inch of her, making sure she’d still feel him tomorrow.

Then his voice dropped to a rasp, already wrecked. “Can I go down on you, babe?”

Taylor exhaled shakily, nodding. “Yeah.”

Travis eased her onto her back, spreading her thighs carefully. His breath caught at the sight of her—swollen, red, still sensitive from yesterday when they’d gone several rounds, pushing each other past their limits, desperate to keep touching, keep feeling.

His girl. His.

He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, then another, dragging his lips higher, breathing her in.

“You good?” he murmured against her skin. “Too sore?”

She shook her head, voice breathy. “No, I want it.”

His lips curved against her thigh before he dove in. Travis groaned softly, the sound deep and reverent, like she was a gift he was lucky to have. He licked a slow, teasing stripe up her pussy, tasting the heat of her, the slickness already coating her folds. She gasped, her hips jerking, and he tightened his grip, holding her still.

“Easy, baby. Lemme make you feel good.”

He worked her slowly, deliberately, his tongue swirling around her clit before sucking it into his mouth, rolling it between his lips. Taylor let out a sharp moan, her fingers gripping at his hair, thighs trembling as he flicked his tongue against her in perfect rhythm.

The wet sounds of his mouth on her filled the room, obscene and filthy, mixing with her soft, breathless whimpers. He hummed against her, sending vibrations straight to her core, his fingers dragging through her slick folds, teasing.
He tried to slide a finger inside her, but she tensed, wincing slightly.

He immediately pulled back, pressing a kiss to her thigh. “Too much?”

She nodded, breathing hard. “Yeah.”

“Okay, baby,” he soothed, focusing his attention back on her clit, circling it with his tongue. “Just this. Just let go for me.”

He worked her slowly, carefully, his tongue tracing lazy circles around her clit before sucking it gently. She whimpered, her fingers gripping his hair, thighs trembling as he kept going, coaxing moan after moan from her lips. He took his time, varying pressure and rhythm, keeping her on the edge before easing her back, prolonging her pleasure. When she finally broke, it was with a cry, her body shuddering as she came apart beneath his mouth.

She shattered, a cry breaking from her lips as pleasure slammed into her, her whole body trembling. He groaned against her as he felt her pulse around his tongue, drinking in the way she moaned, the way she writhed beneath him.

He didn’t stop. He kept his mouth on her, licking her through the aftershocks, slow and reverent, savoring every drop of her. When he finally pulled away, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, she was completely wrecked, boneless, blinking at him with dazed, heavy-lidded eyes.

“God,” she breathed. “That was…”

He smirked, his lips glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Feel good, Tay?”

She let out a breathy laugh, still trying to catch her breath. But then, her gaze flickered lower, down his body, where his cock pressed hard and insistent against his stomach. Her grin turned wicked.

“That a problem?” he teased.

“Not at all.”

She pushed him onto his back, straddling him for a moment, her wet pussy dragging over his cock, making him groan deep in his chest. But she had other plans. Sliding down his body, she pressed kisses to his abs, his hips, dragging her lips lower, making him twitch in anticipation.

She was a fucking menace.

The way she looked up at him, all mischief and heat, had him clenching his fists in the sheets before she’d even touched him properly.

“You good with this?” she asked, her voice dripping with playful confidence, like she already knew the answer.

Travis let out a shaky breath, his fingers already fisting the sheets. “Fuck, baby. Hell yeah.”

The second her fingers wrapped around him—barely managing to encircle his thickness—Travis knew he was done for. His cock jerked in her grip, hot and heavy, already leaking against her palm. She smirked, her touch light at first, teasing, dragging her fingers along his length like she was memorizing him.

She looked up at him, locking eyes, before lowering her head, dragging her tongue up his length in a long, slow lick that made his whole body jolt. The heat of her mouth, the slick glide of her tongue—it was almost too much already. She circled the head, teasing the sensitive spot just beneath before licking down again, her hand following, squeezing, pumping slow and confident, like she knew exactly how to unravel him.

“Jesus,” he rasped, his hands fisting the sheets.

Then she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his cock, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him in deep. His breath hitched, a broken groan escaping as her tongue swirled over him, teasing as she bobbed her head.

She couldn’t take all of him—he was too fucking big—but she sure as hell tried, her fingers stroking the base as she worked him deeper, her throat fluttering as she swallowed around him. The pressure, the wet heat, the obscene little noises she made—it was driving him out of his goddamn mind.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned, his hands flying to her hair, gripping, holding on for dear life.

She moaned around him, the vibration sending a shockwave straight through his spine. Her hands weren’t idle either—one squeezing his base, the other roaming, nails dragging along his stomach, his thighs, everywhere, stoking the fire already raging inside him.

She pulled back just enough to flick her tongue over the tip, smirking when his hips jerked up involuntarily.

“Fuckin’ pro, baby,” he groaned, his voice wrecked.

She just winked before swallowing him down again, faster this time, her rhythm precise, relentless. Her mouth was so hot, her tongue working him over, her grip tight and perfect. She sucked harder, her lips stretched tight around him, her throat tightening as she moaned around his cock.

Travis was seeing stars.

“Shit,” he gasped, his stomach clenching, his whole body tightening. He was right there, right on the fucking edge.

She set a rhythm, her tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, her throat tightening. He let out a wrecked moan, his hips twitching involuntarily. She pulled back, coughing lightly, then laughed, her eyes sparkling.

Travis groaned, his grip tightening in her hair. “Hell baby. You choking on my cock is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She grinned, her voice teasing. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he panted, watching as she took him again, faster this time, her tongue and hands working together, dragging him closer and closer. He was already wound so damn tight, his body coiled, the pressure building unbearably fast.

She hummed in satisfaction, doubling down, taking him as deep as she could, her hand stroking what she couldn’t fit.

“Baby, I’m—” he choked out, his hips bucking.

She didn’t let up. If anything, she wanted this, working him through it, swallowing everything as he came with a wrecked groan, his whole body tensing, his grip flexing in her hair as she wrung him dry.

When she finally pulled back, her lips swollen and glistening, she wiped the corner of her mouth, grinning smugly.

“You good?” she asked, her voice playful.

Travis let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I’m fucking wrecked.”

She smirked, dragging a finger down his chest. “Good.”

When she finally climbed back up, pressing a kiss to his lips, he could still taste himself on her tongue. It sent another spark of heat through him, but he was too wrecked to do anything about it.

He pulled back, shaking his head with a dazed, breathless laugh. “Jesus, baby. Where’d you learn to do that?”

She smirked, but there was something fragile about it. “What, you asking if I’ve been around the block, Kelce?”

Travis chuckled, but the sound felt thin, like it didn’t quite land in his chest. It was in the way she said it—like she was already bracing for impact, already expecting the worst. Like she thought he would care.

His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, voice dropping low. “Baby, I don’t give a fuck whose beds you’ve been in before me. I’m no fucking saint. All I care about is that I’m the only one in your bed now.”

She held his gaze, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. And then she hesitated.

His stomach bottomed out. Shit. He’d misread this. Misread the play, misread her. He felt the ground shift beneath him, like he was a step behind, watching the coverage break down before his eyes, powerless to stop it. He had came in too fast, too reckless, and now he was watching it all slip through his fingers.

He wanted to backpedal, to recover, but then she looked away briefly, inhaling like she was steadying herself before meeting his eyes again. Her voice was quiet, but sure. “You are. The only one I’m seeing.”

Relief crashed through him, stealing his breath, making his grip tighten against her jaw, like he needed something solid to hold onto.

“Good,” he murmured, but his voice was rougher than he meant it to be, raw with something he didn’t know how to name.

Taylor shifted against him, fingers tracing aimless patterns on his chest, her body warm and soft against his—but there was something hesitant about it. Like she was holding something back.

His pulse stuttered, fingers tightening at her waist, like he could keep her here, keep her his, just by holding on tight enough.

Then, barely above a whisper—“Are you?”

His brows pulled together. “Am I what?”

She inhaled sharply, then let out a short, awkward laugh, like she already regretted asking.

Travis frowned. “Tay.”

She pressed her lips together, hesitated for a long moment—then finally sighed, still not looking at him. “Are you… talking to anyone else? Fucking anyone else?”

His chest locked up.

She was still avoiding his eyes, gaze fixed somewhere over his shoulder like that made this whole thing less real.

He sat up, pulling her with him, making her look at him. “Babe. Hell no.”

Her breath hitched as his forehead pressed to hers, fingers threading into her hair, grounding her. “You’re all I think about. One hundred percent, you’re the only one in my bed. Only one on my mind. I want us to be exclusive.”

Taylor swallowed hard, her lips parting like she was about to say something—but she didn’t. Instead, she just… froze.

Seconds passed. Too long. Long enough that something cold started creeping into his stomach.

“Tay,” he said again, softer this time.

Her eyes flicked to his—just for a second—before darting away again. She shifted in his grip like she wanted to pull back, like she wanted to run, but he didn’t let her. He just held on, waited her out.

Finally—after what felt like forever—she exhaled shakily. “I—yeah.” She licked her lips. “I also want us to be exclusive.”

Relief slammed into him. But before he could say anything, she kept going.

“Just—casual, though.” Her voice was careful, like she was testing the words out. “Like, I don’t want either of us seeing other people, but this is still… you know. Just fun.”

His stomach flipped. Just fun.

It wasn’t just fun. Not for him. But the way she was looking at him, like she was daring him to push back, to make it into something more—he didn’t.

Instead, he forced himself to nod. “Yeah, fine. Casual but exclusive.”

She gave him a tight little smile, “Fine,” she said like that settled it. Like she’d said something light and easy, something that didn’t make her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.

But Travis had played enough games to know when someone was fooling themselves.

Said, “I’m fine,” but it wasn’t true.

—-

Later that morning over coffee and home made pop tarts Taylor looked up at him frowning.
“I hate this sneaking around,” Taylor admitted, looking frustrated. “I spent six years keeping my relationship secret, and I’m tired of it.”

Travis tensed, his heart jumping. “So… you want to go public?”

Taylor shook her head quickly. “No, no. Not like that. I just mean… I hate feeling like I have to hide.” She paused, her voice softening. “But this is still just fun. Let’s not forget that.”

Something in her tone faltered, like maybe she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.

Travis swallowed, keeping his face neutral even as his chest ached. Fun. That was what she wanted. That was what she’d told him from the start.

“Got it,” he said, forcing a small smile, even though nothing about it felt right.

Because the truth was, he wasn’t just having fun anymore. He was falling—fast and hard. But if all Taylor wanted was something light, something easy, then that’s what he’d give her.

Even if it meant locking his feelings away.

——-

Now, back in Kansas City, the contrast between his weekends with Taylor and the rest of his life felt stark.

Travis wasn’t expecting Kayla Nicole to be at the Chiefs' charity event, but when Brittany Mahomes invited her, it seemed unavoidable. Kayla, dressed in a body-hugging designer dress, made sure to be noticed, her every move calculated for maximum attention. She worked the room, taking selfies, filming TikToks, and chatting loudly about her latest sponsorship deals as if it were a one-woman show.

As the night went on, Kayla made her way toward Travis, a confident smile on her face. “Travis,” she purred, touching his arm, “we need to talk. I’ve been thinking about us.”
Ross, standing nearby, quickly intervened. “Hey, Kayla, how about you give him some space?”
Kayla shot him a glare but backed off. Later that night, Travis’s phone buzzed with a direct message from her on Instagram. “We need to talk. The dogs miss their daddy. I miss us. Let’s be adults about this.”

The mention of the dogs hit a nerve. Travis and Kayla had shared custody of their two dogs, but he’d purposely avoided interacting with her during the handoffs. His friends or family usually handled the logistics, but even that wasn’t enough to sever the lingering ties.

And maybe that was the problem—he’d let things linger. He’d let her words, her control, keep him tethered long after the relationship had died.

It hadn’t always been so clear.

——

Flashback: Spring 2021

The stadium buzzed with excitement during the baseball game, but Travis felt anything but. Kayla Nicole was perched beside him, her phone angled just right to capture selfies and candid moments for her Instagram story.

“You’re so lucky I dragged you here,” she said with a bright laugh, tilting her head closer to his for another snap. “Look at the engagement already. Our followers love us together.”

Travis forced a small smile, but his discomfort was growing. He wasn’t a man who sought the limelight for anything other than football, yet Kayla thrived on it. Tonight, it felt like the game they were attending was secondary to her need for content.

Midway through the inning, one of her followers DMed her asking why Travis looked “so bored.” She immediately flipped the phone around for him to see. “This is why I tell you to smile more, Travis,” she said sharply, lowering her phone to glare at him.

“I’m just trying to watch the game,” he said calmly, glancing at the field.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she said, her voice low but seething. “You don’t just sit there like a lump when you’re with me. This is part of being with me, Travis. You need to perform.”

“I don’t need to perform, Kayla. I’m here to spend time with you, not your followers,” he replied firmly.

Before he could say anything else, her hand darted out and covered his mouth. Her nails pressed lightly against his skin as she leaned closer. “Stop,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re ruining the vibe.”

He froze in shock, her hand muffling his voice. As much as he hated confrontation, he hated feeling silenced even more. When she finally pulled her hand away, she smiled as if nothing had happened and took another photo, captioning it: *“Game day vibes with my love ❤️⚾”*

The ride home was tense. Kayla barely spoke to him until they got inside the house. Then, the floodgates opened.

“What the hell was that, Travis?” she snapped, dropping her purse on the couch.

“What was *what*?” he asked, his tone already weary.

“Your whole *thing* tonight. You looked bored out of your mind. People noticed. I noticed. You’re supposed to make me look good, not like I’m dragging you around like a sulking teenager.”

“I wasn’t sulking, Kayla. I was just watching the game,” he said, keeping his voice even.

“No, you were embarrassing me!” she shouted, her face twisted in frustration. “Do you know how hard it is to build an audience like mine? How much work I put into making us look good? And you can’t even pretend to care?”

“I do care, Kayla. I care about you, not—”

“Not *what*? Not my career? Not my goals?” she interrupted, stepping closer. “You think this is easy, Travis? You think being a successful influencer is some kind of joke?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to!” she shot back, her voice trembling with anger. “You act like you’re above it all. Like I’m some needy girlfriend just looking for attention. God, you’re so selfish sometimes.”

Selfish. The word hit him harder than it should have.

“I’m not selfish,” he said quietly.

“Oh, really?” she countered, crossing her arms. “Because you sure as hell didn’t seem to care about me tonight.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that her constant need for validation from strangers was exhausting. But instead, he stayed silent, unsure of how to respond without escalating things further.

That night, as he lay awake in bed, Kayla sleeping soundly beside him, Travis stared at the ceiling and thought about what Ross had said months earlier.

“That’s not love, man. It’s control. She’s making you smaller to make herself feel bigger.”

At the time, he’d shrugged it off. But now, with her words echoing in his mind and his chest tight with doubt, he wasn’t so sure.

——

Present Day

The next morning, Travis made a decision. Travis stared at Kayla’s message one more time. Then, with a deep breath, he picked up his phone and called his sister-in-law, Kylie.

“Hey,” he said, his voice tight. “Can you let Kayla know the dogs are hers now? Full custody. I don’t care anymore.”
Kylie paused. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Travis said firmly. “I’m done.”
After hanging up, he made sure Kayla was blocked on every platform. He felt a weight lift from his chest, but there was still a knot of tension in his stomach.

He needed to talk to Patrick and Brittany.

——

That afternoon, he drove to The Mahomes’ house.

Sitting on their couch, Travis stared down at his hands, trying to find the right words.
“Look, I know Kayla’s your friend,” Travis began, glancing cautiously at Brittany, “but I need to be real about what went down. She wasn’t just ‘a lot.’ She was abusive—mentally, emotionally. The gaslighting, the way she’d make me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was lucky to have her, not the other way around.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “It got to the point where I was… scared of her. And I’m 6’5”, 250 pounds. That’s not something I ever thought I’d say out loud.”

Brittany stared at him, wide-eyed. “Travis, I had no idea. I knew she could be… intense, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Patrick leaned forward, looking genuinely concerned. “Why didn’t you ever tell us, man?”

“I don’t know,” Travis admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I was embarrassed. Guys like me aren’t supposed to feel like that, right? But I’m done with it. Kylie told the dogs are hers, I blocked her, I don’t want her anywhere near me.”

There was a pause as they absorbed his words. Brittany got up and hugged him.

Patrick placed a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing getting out. She had no right to treat you like that.”
Brittany nodded. “And I’m sorry if inviting her caused more drama. I’ll be more careful about that in the future.”

“Thanks,” Travis said quietly.

Later that afternoon Patrick was glued to the screen, analyzing game footage, but Brittany? She was locked onto Travis with the sharp focus of a detective.

“So,” she started, her tone light but laced with curiosity, “you’ve been weirdly quiet about your personal life lately. And I know you, Kelce. That means there’s someone.”

Travis laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re imagining things, Brit. No one special.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re literally flying to New York every weekend like some lovesick teenager. You’ve got that ‘trying not to smile but I’m so happy’ look. Spill it.”

Patrick finally chimed in without looking up from the TV. “She’s right. You’re not exactly subtle, dude. What’s the deal? Someone we know?”

Travis leaned back, letting out a long sigh. “It’s not serious. Just seeing someone. That’s it.”

Brittany tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Not serious, huh? But serious enough to make multiple trips to New York? You’ve never even liked New York.”

“It’s...different now,” Travis admitted, keeping his voice casual.

Patrick turned to face him, his brows raised. “Is it someone famous? You’ve been dodging the media more than usual, and that’s saying something.”

Brittany snapped her fingers suddenly. “Wait a second. New York...the podcast! That interview where they asked you about Taylor Swift. You got so cagey. What did you say? ‘I said what I said, and I meant what I said’? And then you shut it down completely when they pushed further.”

Patrick’s jaw dropped. “No. No way. Are you telling me—wait, Travis, are you dating *Taylor Swift*?”

Travis groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You two really need hobbies.”

But Brittany was on a roll now, sitting up straighter as pieces started clicking together. “The friendship bracelet thing! You tried to give her your number when we went to the Eras Tour. And then you went on your podcast saying she didn’t meet you, but you were super quiet about it after. And suddenly you’re spending weekends in New York?” She gasped. “Oh my God. It *is* her, isn’t it?”

Patrick stared at Travis, his mouth hanging open. “Dude, are you serious? You’re dating Taylor Swift?”

Travis sighed heavily. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to!” Brittany exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. “It makes so much sense now. The timing, the dodging questions, the travel...oh my God, this is insane!”

Patrick leaned forward, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Bro, I’m not even mad. That’s impressive. You’re really dating Taylor Swift? You’re like...living a Swiftie’s fever dream.”

Travis couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, fine. We’ve been...hanging out. It’s new, it’s casual, and it’s private. So don’t make it a thing, alright?”

Brittany’s excitement didn’t dim. “Travis, do you even understand what this means? She’s the biggest pop star in the world! And you—you’re smitten. I can see it all over you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just fun,” Travis said quickly, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Patrick smirked. “You keep saying that, but the way you’re acting? You’re in way deeper than you’re admitting, man.”

Brittany leaned forward, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret. “So...does this mean she’s coming to a game? You’ve seen her do her thing at her concert at Arrowhead. She’s gotta come see you do yours at Arrowhead.”

Travis shook his head. “No. I’m not asking her to do that. She’s had enough of the public circus. I’m not dragging her into mine.”

Brittany frowned, but her expression softened. “I get it. But, Trav...if this is real—like, really real—you deserve it. Don’t let the past, or the noise, hold you back.”

Patrick nodded. “And for what it’s worth, we’re rooting for you. Even if it’s Taylor freaking Swift. Especially if it’s Taylor freaking Swift.”

Travis chuckled, the weight of the conversation settling into his chest. “Thanks, guys. Just...keep this between us, alright?”

“Obviously,” Brittany said with a grin. “But seriously, Taylor Swift? That’s so cool.

Travis smiled to himself, the lyrics to Cruel Summer looping in his mind: “It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em. No rules, in breakable heaven...”

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV
September 2023

Taylor’s Town house – Tribeca
Taylor sat cross-legged on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, while Blake lounged in a chair nearby, legs draped over the armrest. Benjamin eyed them both lazily from his perch.
Taylor sighed dramatically, swirling her wine. “So, what’s the protocol for hopping on a plane to Kansas City just for a dick appointment? Asking for a friend.”
Blake nearly choked on her sip of water, her laugh sharp and disbelieving. “Taylor Alison Swift, I know you did not just say that.”
Taylor smirked, but her cheeks flushed. “What? It’s a valid question! I mean, Travis is... well, let’s just say his dick is worth the flight.”
Blake leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Yeah, it might be worth the flight, but let’s cut the crap, Tay. You don’t do dick appointments. Not unless you really like the guy.”
Taylor groaned, tipping her head back. “Fine. Yes, I like him, okay? But that’s the problem, Blake. I like him. And I don’t know if I can do this.”
Blake sat up straighter, her teasing demeanor gone. “Do what?”
Taylor gestured vaguely toward her phone, which had been lighting up all day with notifications. “This! It’s already started. The rumors, the dissecting. Every move he makes, every city I’m in. There was a TikTok today where someone slowed down a clip from NFL Network to analyze whether Travis was talking about me. It’s insane. And the thing is... they’re not wrong.”
Blake tilted her head, studying her friend. “You knew this was going to happen. You’re Taylor Swift. You could sneeze and people would think it’s a new single. But Travis? He seems like a strong guy. You really think he can’t handle it?”
Taylor set her glass down and stood, pacing across the room. “It’s not just about him being strong. This is different. His world is big, sure, but it’s not this big. He’s not ready for the kind of scrutiny I bring. Every part of his life will be dissected—and his family, the team, his friends. And if it doesn’t break him, what if it changes him? What if he decides I’m too much? I can handle the scrutiny—I’ve been dealing with it my whole life. But Travis? He’s not ready for this.”

Blake’s voice softened. “Are you sure he’s not? He’s used to the spotlight in his own way. It’s not like he’s a recluse.”

“This is different,” Taylor said, sinking onto the couch beside Benjamin. She scratched his head absently. “It’s one thing to be a famous athlete, but this kind of attention? It’s brutal. What happens if—” She broke off, biting her lip.

“If what?” Blake prompted gently.

Taylor swallowed hard. “If he changes his mind? If he decides it’s too much? I’ve been there, Blake. I’ve seen it happen. Joe...” She trailed off, her voice cracking. . “But it’s not just me, Blake. It’s him. And his family. I can handle the scrutiny—I’ve been dealing with it my whole life. But Travis? He’s not ready for this.”
Blake’s voice softened. “Are you sure you’re not just projecting?”

Taylor stopped, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve been here before, Blake.” She paused, her voice quieter. “You know Joe hated it. He hated the lack of privacy, the media following us everywhere.”

——

Flashback: NYC, 2019

The restaurant was elegant but dimly lit, the kind of place where privacy was supposed to be a guarantee. Except when you were Taylor Swift, and privacy was a concept that existed for everyone else.
She and Joe were tucked into a corner booth, but the weight of the world was pressing down on them. The media had been brutal outside and Joe, once again struggling with depression, was still shaking.
Joe pushed his plate away, barely touching his food. “I can’t do this, Tay.”
Taylor froze mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air. “Do what?”
“This.” He gestured vaguely around the room, but she knew he didn’t mean the restaurant. “The cameras, the whispers, the speculation. My family can’t even go out the house without someone taking a picture. I’m just...I don’t know. I didn’t sign up for this.”
Taylor set her fork down, her appetite gone. “Joe, we’ve talked about this. It’s hard, I know, but—”
“No, you don’t know,” he snapped, his voice low but sharp. “You know how to handle it. I don’t. And I don’t think I want to.”
Her heart sank. “What are you saying?”
He leaned back, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m saying...I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
When they left the restaurant, Joe had ducked out first, rushing to the car with his head down. Taylor followed moments later, her heart pounding as the camera flashes lit up the street.
The questions were loud, relentless.
“Taylor! Taylor, over here!”
“Is it true you’re pregnant?”
“Taylor, how does Joe feel about the engagement rumors?”
She forced a tight smile, walking quickly to the car as her security cleared a path. When she slid into the backseat beside Joe, he didn’t look at her.
Her hands trembled in her lap.

———

Blake’s eyes softened, but she pushed. “He’s not Joe. Stop comparing them. Travis has already chosen this, Tay. He’s chosen you. Ryan and I can tell how much he already cares about you when we had you two over for dinner last week. He’s crazy about you. But if you keep shutting him out, he’s gonna get frustrated. He’s not some guy who can’t handle the spotlight. But if you keep assuming he’s gonna bail, then you’re setting yourself up to lose him before you’ve even given him a chance.”
Taylor’s eyes welled up, but she blinked them away quickly. “I don’t know, Blake. I can’t be the one who messes this up. I can’t. What if I am too much? What if everything about me is just too much for him to deal with? I don’t want to be... like that again.”
Blake sighed, standing up and walking over to Taylor. “You need to stop torturing yourself. You’ve been doing this for years. You have always been your own worst enemy when it comes to relationships. But you’re not alone this time. Not with him. Not with Travis.”
Taylor shook her head, her voice cracking. “I’m terrified, Blake. I’m terrified of losing him. I’m terrified that I’m not enough. Or worse, that I’ll be too much and I’ll chase him away, and I won’t even see it coming.”
Blake took Taylor’s hand gently, pulling her into a tight hug. “Then don’t think about it. Just be with him. Stop projecting all your fears onto him. Just let yourself be happy, even for a little while.”
Taylor buried her face in Blake’s shoulder, taking a shaky breath. “What if it’s not enough?”
Blake pulled back slightly, looking her straight in the eyes. “Then we deal with that when it happens. But don’t cut yourself off before it’s even begun. You deserve this, Tay. You deserve someone who can handle all of you—the good, the bad, and the messy.”
Taylor nodded, tears slipping down her face, but there was a faint trace of a smile on her lips. “You’re right. But if this all blows up in my face... I’m blaming you.”
Blake chuckled softly, wiping the tears from Taylor’s cheeks. “Deal. But for now, just go with it. You’ve got this.”
Taylor let out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing. “Fine. But just for the record, I wasn’t joking about the dick appointment.”
Blake laughed, pulling her into a quick hug. “Oh, I know you weren’t.”

——

Taylor sat on the edge of Travis’s bed, her fingers slowly tracing his strong legs, the touch light but electric. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the game on mute, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, crackling between them. Travis lay across from her, his eyes never leaving hers, the look in his gaze intense, like he was trying to read every thought running through her mind. He was a magnetic force, pulling her in with every subtle movement, every flicker of emotion in his eyes. She felt it—magic. It was chemistry. The kind you couldn't ignore, couldn't explain. It was alchemy in the truest sense—two elements coming together to form something explosive.

She had flown in, desperate to see him after another sleepless night of worrying about what it would mean if the world knew. The whispers were already swirling louder and louder—dating rumors, fan theories. It was inevitable. They both knew it.

And she was terrified.

“This is the first house I bought when I started at the Chiefs,” Travis said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was steady but soft, like he was offering her a piece of himself. “I love it here, but I’ve been thinking about moving. I think I want something bigger, more private. “

Taylor tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “For you?” she asked, though they both knew the unspoken subtext.

“For us, if you want it to be,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers.

Her heart squeezed. God, the way he looked at her—like she was the only woman in the world. It was almost too much to handle, this sudden, overwhelming sense of… home.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” she began carefully, choosing her words like they were glass. “About what happens when… when this goes public.”

Travis leaned forward, his hands resting on her. “When, not if?”

Taylor sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s already starting. The rumors, the assumptions. And when it’s confirmed…” She looked away, her voice dropping. “It’ll be chaos, Travis. It always is.”

“I can handle chaos,” he said simply. He leaned in closer, his large hand finding hers, his fingers brushing over her skin like he was mapping her. Every touch was like an electric current, running through her body.

“Can you?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Because it’s not just the chaos—it’s the criticism. The way the world will dissect everything you do,” pricked her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly. “You can’t cheat on me. Not even a harmless like or comment on Instagram. Everything will be dissected.”

“Taylor, I get it,” he said. “I won’t screw this up. I promise. I don’t want anyone other than you.”

“Your past, the way you play, how you talk in interviews. Your family, your friends—they won’t be left out of it either. And I just—”

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his large hands found hers, completely engulfing them, fingers entwined. “Stop. Listen to me. I don’t care about any of that. You think I’d let a bunch of strangers on the internet tell me how to feel about you?”

Taylor blinked back the sting of tears. “You say that now, but it’ll wear on you. It always does. I’ve seen it before. I’ve been through it before. And I—” Her voice faltered. “I can’t be the reason you lose your peace, Travis.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands. Finally, he said, “Is this about Joe?”

She looked at him sharply, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I’ve done my homework, Taylor,” he said with a small, knowing smile. “I know how private that relationship was. How hard it must’ve been to lose that. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. I’m not running.”

Her breath hitched. God, he made it sound so easy.

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “To have your life turned into a circus. To be treated like a commodity instead of a person. And I—” She swallowed. “I don’t want to do that to you.”

He reached up, cupping her face with one hand, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Taylor, I’m not afraid of the spotlight. I was made for it. Hell, I live in it every weekend. But what I don’t do—what I won’t do—is let it control me. Or us. I don’t care lwhatever other chaos you’re worried about. I’m not going anywhere.”

Taylor’s lips parted, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him. The intensity of his words felt like a spell. It was magic—raw, untamed, burning between them. She had always known he was different, but now… now she realized just how much. It felt inevitable, like two stars colliding.

“So I need to know,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “Are we doing this? Full throttle? All in?”

Taylor stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty. He was giving her an out, but she didn’t want it.

“Yes,” she whispered. “We’re doing this.”

Travis broke into a grin, his relief palpable, and before she could say another word, he pulled her into a kiss. It was deep, slow, and utterly consuming, his hands sliding into her hair as he held her close.

When they finally broke apart, his lips brushed her ear. “So does this mean you’re officially my girlfriend now?”

She laughed breathlessly, her head falling back. “Yes, it means I’m your girlfriend.”

“Metal as hell,” Travis muttered under his breath, his grin widening. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

The intensity of their kiss picked up again, deeper now, as their hands roamed with urgency. Every touch, every movement felt like magic—alchemy in its purest form. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of them, caught in the heat, the passion, and the undeniable chemistry that was theirs alone.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Taylor rested her head against his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over his skin. She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Will you let me come to a game?”

Travis froze, staring down at her in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“I just want to support you,” she said softly. “And hang out with your friends and family.”

“Taylor, that’s—” He cut himself off, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’ll organize security, whatever you need. Just say the word.”

She smiled. “I don’t need anything. I’ll just walk in like everyone else.”

Travis kissed her forehead, his voice low and tender. “You can walk in however you want. You’re mine now. And that means the world to me.” Even if the world wouldn’t give them peace, they could find it in each other. In the quiet, in the heat of their touch, and in the way their hearts beat in unison. That was enough for now.

Chapter Text

Travis’s POV

September 2023

The excitement in the air was almost tangible as Travis’s house filled with his close friends and family. They were all there to pre-game—not with drinks, at least not for him—but to hype each other up before the Chiefs' big game. The sound of laughter echoed through the halls, but all he could think about was Taylor.
She was here. In his house.
When she walked in earlier, wearing a casual yet perfectly put-together outfit that somehow made her look like a goddess, everyone had fallen silent. For a moment, it was like time stopped. She was polite and warm, greeting everyone with that signature blend of charm and approachability that made her… her.
Now, they were standing in the kitchen, surrounded by a mix of his closest people. His mom, Donna, was beside him, clearly sizing Taylor up as they exchanged pleasantries.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Taylor said earnestly, offering Donna one of those smiles that could melt glaciers.
“You too,” Donna replied, her tone kind but guarded. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Taylor chuckled softly. “I hope it’s been mostly good.”
Donna gave her a small smile. “Mostly.”
The tension wasn’t lost on Travis, but he knew his mom. She was just protective. It was a lot for anyone to wrap their head around—Taylor Swift and her big reputation, at a Chiefs game, let alone dating her son.
As the conversation shifted, Travis’s buddies started pumping him up.
“Bro, I can’t believe you’re dating her,” one of them whispered, casting not-so-subtle glances at Taylor across the room.
“Man, focus,” Travis replied with a grin, even though he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.

At the Stadium
The roar of Arrowhead Stadium was deafening as the team took the field. Travis felt his usual mix of nerves and adrenaline coursing through his veins, but tonight, there was something more.
As he glanced up toward the VIP section, there she was. Taylor, standing out among the sea of red, her face glowing with excitement.
“She’s there,” he said, awe slipping into his voice as he nudged Patrick Mahomes.
Patrick looked up and grinned. “Big day, Kelce. Don’t blow it.”
Travis laughed, shaking his head. “Not a chance.

Flashback – KC, January 2022
It was another game day, but instead of feeling pumped, Travis was drained. Kayla had spent most of the day filming content—talking about her “game day fit,” posting selfies, and directing Travis to “get in the shot.”
After the game, he was utterly exhausted. But as soon as he walked through the door, Kayla had a camera in his face.
“Can we just do one clip? Just talk about how great the game was,” she asked, her tone edging on impatient.
“Kay, I’m tired,” he said, rubbing his temples.
“You’re always tired,” she snapped. “I need to post this. Do you think I do this for fun? This is my job, Travis. You don’t pay my bills.”
His frustration boiled over. “I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, not your content!”
Her face hardened. “We’ve been together almost five years, Travis. No ring. No promises. The least you can do is help me out.”

He couldn’t believe it. “I never promised you marriage, Kayla. You knew that. I’m sorry if that’s not enough for you.”
Her face tightened, and she stormed away.

——-
Present day
The crowd was still roaring as they left the field, the stadium's energy alive around them. Travis could feel the buzz in the air, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d just played the game of his life, but there was one thing that had been on his mind since the moment he walked into the locker room: Taylor.
As they walked down the long corridor, heading toward the exit, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. He was supposed to be celebrating his win, but all he could think about was her—the woman walking beside him, her hand so close but out of reach. Every step they took was full of tension, a strange mix of exhilaration and restraint. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t hold her hand or pull her into his arms. He felt like he was holding his breath the entire walk.
For the first time in a long time, the spotlight felt heavier. People were watching them, even in this private moment. The last thing he wanted to do was seem too eager, too obvious. But it was killing him. Every part of him screamed to just hold her, to feel her warmth next to him, but they had to play the game, the one that said they were a couple but still had to hold back in public.
Finally, they reached the car. Travis opened the door for Taylor, his breath escaping in a relieved rush as the weight lifted just a little. When she slid into the seat beside him, the pressure was gone, and he finally let out a smile. The air between them shifted the moment they were alone.
Taylor didn’t waste a second. She turned to him with wide eyes, her smile nearly blinding.
“We did it! You did it!” she squealed, her voice filled with excitement and joy.
He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “You’re really that happy?” he teased, his heart full as he started the car.
“Are you kidding?” Taylor laughed, practically bouncing in her seat. “You were amazing out there. I was so nervous for you, but you were incredible. I couldn’t stop cheering for you the whole time.”
He felt his chest puff up with pride, a warm rush of happiness flooding him. It wasn’t just about the win—it was about her. Having her there, cheering him on, made everything feel right. The nerves were still there, but in a different way now. He’d gotten through the game, but the real battle was learning how to navigate everything with her. Being out in the open, holding back when all he wanted to do was pull her close. But the after party was coming, and he knew it was just another step in this wild, incredible journey they were on together.
The drive to the after party was short, but it felt like a moment just for them. They both knew that tonight wasn’t just about the game. It was about everything that came after—the excitement, the energy, and the fact that they had each other.

---

At the after-party, the energy in the room was electric, but Travis and Taylor found it hard to tear their hands off each other. As the night went on, they seemed magnetized, always drawn back together like they couldn’t quite get enough. Travis found himself constantly stealing glances at her, and she did the same, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips every time their eyes met. Every touch, whether a light brush of his fingers, the way his hand rested on her waist, or a sweet kiss seemed to send a little spark through both of them.

Travis stood next to Brittany as she and Taylor chatted, his hand still lightly holding Taylor’s, the warmth of her touch making him feel more grounded despite the whirlwind of the after-party. The music thudded in the background, and the room buzzed with excitement, but in this little moment, it felt like everything slowed down.

Taylor was being her usual radiant self, effortlessly charming everyone around her. Brittany was hanging on every word, clearly enjoying herself, glancing every so often at Patrick and with pure joy. But as he watched them talk, he couldn’t help but notice how natural it was. The way Taylor made connections, how easy she was to be around—he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

As the conversation shifted to something about the next game, Taylor turned to Brittany with a friendly smile, her voice warm and inviting. “Hey, Brittany, I know you’re probably super busy with everything, but if you’re free the night before our game in New York, I’m going to have dinner with a few friends. You should totally join us.”

Brittany blinked, clearly surprised, and then her face lit up. “Oh my God, are you serious? I’d love to! I’ve heard so much about your New York crew. It would be an honor.” Patrick looked over at Travis with a smile, seeing how happy his wife was.

Taylor grinned, her eyes sparkling. “It’s not as fancy as you might think,” she said, laughing softly. “Just a few close friends, good food, and a lot of laughs.”

Travis smiled, his chest swelling with affection as he watched them connect. Taylor had a way of making people feel comfortable, of instantly making them feel like part of the group. Brittany was no exception.

“I’ll make sure we get a table at one of our favorite spots,” Taylor continued. “It’ll be fun.”

Brittany nodded enthusiastically, clearly excited. “Sounds like my kind of night. I’d love to, really. Thanks for the invite.”

“You’re welcome,” Taylor said, her tone playful. “It’ll be a blast.”

Travis chuckled softly, watching the exchange with a fond smile. It was so easy for Taylor to make friends. As much as he loved the game, he was always in awe of how natural she was in any setting. He couldn’t help teasing a little as he leaned in toward Brittany, his hand still holding Taylor’s, their fingers intertwined.

“You two gonna make it a regular thing now?” Travis asked with a grin, his voice light and teasing.

Taylor rolled her eyes at him in that familiar, playful way. “You know I love making new friends,” she said, her tone warm. “Plus, Brittany’s awesome. Right, Britt?”

Brittany nodded, smiling brightly. “Absolutely.”

Travis couldn’t help but chuckle at their easy dynamic. This was one of the reasons he was so in love with Taylor—how she made everything feel light and fun, how she effortlessly brought people together.

Travis smiled, the playful banter between the four of them feeling like the kind of effortless connection he’d always hoped for. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable, so at ease with the people around him.

“Alright, it’s a plan,” Taylor said, her voice light with excitement. “I’m looking forward to it. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

Brittany grinned. “I can’t wait.”
⸻

The rest of the after-party was a blur. All Travis could think about was her. The way she smiled at him across the room, the way she touched his arm when she laughed, the way she leaned into him like she couldn’t help it.

By the time they got back to his place, he was hanging by a thread.

The door had barely shut before he spun her, pressing her up against it, his mouth crashing against hers.

“You have no idea,” he growled between kisses, his hands greedy as they skimmed over her body, “how proud I was today. Seeing you there, watching me, cheering for me—fuck, baby.”

Taylor moaned into his mouth, her nails dragging down his back. “Travis—”

“Whole goddamn stadium was looking at me,” he murmured, lips trailing down her jaw. “Didn’t care about a single pair of eyes except yours.”

She let out a shaky breath as his hands gripped her ass, lifting her against him. “I love watching you,” she admitted, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Seeing you in your element, seeing you win—Travis, I was so fucking turned on the entire game.”

That was all it took for him to groan, his cock twitching against her. “Jesus, Tay.”

She smirked, pressing teasing little kisses to his jaw. “Knew you’d like that.”

He let out a rough chuckle, carrying her to the bed. “You love driving me insane, don’t you?”

She grinned. “Maybe a little.”

Travis shook his head, laying her down and leaning over her. “You deserve to be worshipped, you know that?” His voice was rough with need. “Gonna take my time with you, baby. Make you come over and over before I even think about fucking you.”

Taylor shivered at his words, her breath catching. “God, yes.”

Travis took a step back, eyes raking over her like he was committing this moment to memory. Those tiny little denim shorts had been driving him insane all night—hugging her ass, showing off her long, fucking perfect legs. Every time she moved, every time she crossed those thighs, all he could think about was having them wrapped around him.

And that white tank top? Fuck. It was just like the one she wore on their first date, thin and teasing, clinging to her tits in a way that made him want to rip it off.

He reached for her, fingers hooking in the waistband of those little shorts, yanking them down her legs, sucking in a sharp breath as more smooth, golden skin was revealed. His hands traced up the backs of her thighs, squeezing, gripping, reveling in how soft she was.

Then he tugged her tank top up, slow, just to make her squirm, his knuckles grazing over her ribs, her stomach. When he finally dragged it over her head, he let it drop to the floor, his eyes locking on her tits, barely covered by lace.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He slid his hands up, cupping her, thumbs brushing over her nipples, watching them pebble under his touch. His mouth watered.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking night,” he admitted, voice rough. “Since the second I saw you in this top, all I wanted to do was pull these pretty tits out and suck on them.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He ducked down, taking one peak into his mouth, sucking slow and deep, groaning when she gasped and tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss the swell of her breasts. He palmed them, rolling a nipple between his fingers just to hear her gasp.

Then his hands traveled lower, teasing over her stomach, down to her hips. He loved her body—every curve, every inch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Could stay between your legs for hours, baby.”

Taylor whimpered. “Then do it.”

Travis grinned, then hooked his fingers into her panties and ripped them off. He groaned at the sight of her—already dripping for him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her slick folds. “You love this, don’t you? Love knowing how bad I want you?”

Taylor bit her lip, nodding.

“Say it,” he demanded, pressing a teasing kiss to her clit.

“I love it,” she gasped. “Love how much you want me.”

“That’s my girl,” he growled before devouring her.

His mouth was greedy, his tongue slow and deliberate as he licked up her slit, circling her clit before sucking it into his mouth. Taylor moaned, her hips jerking against him.

“Travis,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He hummed, pressing a thick finger inside her, curling it just right.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching her squirm. “You taste so goddamn sweet.”

Taylor whimpered, her thighs trembling as he worked her up, adding another finger, pressing his tongue flat against her clit before sucking again.

“Oh my God,” she choked out, her back arching.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his fingers moving faster.

A desperate, breathless moan left her lips as she shattered, her body tightening, her thighs squeezing around his head.

Travis groaned, licking her through it, loving the way she trembled for him.

He brushed his lips along her jaw, his voice warm against her skin. “Can I touch you, baby?”

Taylor shivered beneath him, already breathless. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Please.”

That was all he needed, knowing sometimes she was too sensitive for a second orgasm straight away. He trailed kisses down her body, pausing to admire every little reaction—every gasp, every shiver—as he eased her thighs apart.

“You okay?” he asked, looking up at her, his fingers teasing at her entrance.

She nodded, her fingers threading through his hair. “More than okay.”

He smirked. “Good.”

He pressed two fingers inside her, slow and deep, curling them just right as his thumb circled her clit. Taylor’s breath hitched, her hips shifting toward his hand, and he groaned at how ready she already was for him.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmured, watching the way she clenched around his fingers. “Love seeing you like this. Love knowing I’m the one making you feel this way.”

Taylor whimpered, arching into his touch. “You always do,” she admitted, voice wrecked.

His chest swelled with pride, and he worked her steadily, keeping his thumb circling her clit as his fingers pressed deep, wanting to give her everything.

She moaned, her grip tightening in his hair. “So good, Trav.”

That was all he needed. He kept going, his focus completely on her, watching as she came apart beneath him, her body tensing, her thighs trembling. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, making sure she rode out every last wave before finally easing his fingers from her, pressing soft kisses up her stomach.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, kissing her ribs, her collarbone, her lips.

When she finally caught her breath, she tugged at his hair, guiding him up. Her eyes were dark, hungry. “I need you inside me. Now.”

Travis swore, kicking off his jeans. Then—

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes darting to the nightstand.

Taylor blinked up at him. “What?”

“I need a condom,” he groaned, already reaching. He yanked the drawer open—empty.

Taylor let out a frustrated whine. “Travis.”

“Hold on, baby,” he muttered, already searching through his bag. Nothing.

She groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I got it, I got it,” he promised, shoving a hand under the bed. His fingers brushed against something, and—

“Yes!” he practically shouted, triumphant, as he pulled out the packet.

Taylor sighed in relief. “Jesus, finally.”

He tore it open in record time, rolling it on before crawling back over her. “Worth the wait, baby. Promise.”

She lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around him. “Then shut up and fuck me.”

He turned back to her, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her toward the edge of the bed. She barely had time to react before he was lifting her legs, hooking her heels over his shoulders, her hips tilted up in invitation.

Her breath caught. “Oh.”

Travis smirked. “Yeah, baby.”

He planted his feet, standing tall, one hand gripping her hip, the other guiding himself to her entrance. He dragged himself through her slick heat, watching the way she shivered, the way her body begged to take him in.

And then he thrust inside, sinking deep, stretching her open inch by inch.

“Fuck—” Taylor gasped, eyes squeezing shut, her hands scrambling for the sheets.

Travis groaned, his head dropping back as he buried himself inside her. She was so tight, so fucking perfect, gripping him like she was made for this.

“Goddamn, baby,” he growled, pulling back before slamming in again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

Taylor cried out, her nails digging into his arms. “Harder.”

His grip tightened, and he gave it to her, thrusting deep, pounding into her, the force of it making the whole bed shake.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The sound was fucking obscene, wet and loud, but all he could focus on was her—the way she was unraveling beneath him, begging for more.

“Yes—fuck, Travis, don’t stop—”

He wasn’t stopping. Not until she was falling apart for him again. He reached between them, his thumb finding her clit, rubbing tight circles as he kept driving into her, his pace brutal, relentless.

Taylor let out a sharp cry, her whole body tensing, her thighs squeezing around his shoulders as she came again, hard, her walls clenching around him, dragging him right to the edge.

“Fuck, baby, I’m—” His rhythm stuttered, his grip bruising as pleasure slammed into him, stealing every last bit of control.

He groaned, hips jerking, pulse hammering as he came hard, spilling into the condom, holding onto her like he’d never let go.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, both panting, completely spent.

Finally, Travis forced himself to pull out, slipping the condom off, tying it, and tossing it before collapsing beside her.

Taylor rolled into his side, pressing a lazy kiss to his chest, her fingers tracing his abs. “That was…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It really was.”

She hummed, already drifting. He pulled the blankets over them, tucking her against him, and let himself savor the day. Winning the game and winning the girl.

His girl. His endgame.

Chapter Text

The 1

2 October

Taylor’s POV

There was a shift after the game. It wasn’t anything loud or dramatic, but it was there. Subtle. Like the stillness before a storm, thick with anticipation. Taylor didn’t want to admit it yet, but she could feel it in the air—the change between her and Travis. It wasn’t just about football. It was about everything.

The night before the game, Taylor had invited Brittany to dinner in New York. Taylor was excited to introduce Brittany to her friends, but there was an unspoken tension in the air. The night started out light, but Blake was determined to keep the shots flowing. Brittany, already slightly tipsy, was trying to keep up with the group’s energy, and Taylor found herself watching as Brittany became increasingly unsteady, a mix of laughter and tipsiness flooding the space.

Blake raised her glass with a grin. “Come on, ladies! Let’s see who can handle the shots best.”

Brittany, was a trooper, laughing and accepting another round, though her tipsy charm was starting to turn into something more chaotic.

“Hey, I’m keeping up!” Brittany said, swaying slightly, her voice getting louder with each drink. Taylor watched her closely, her concern growing, but she didn’t want to stop her from having fun. She was here to enjoy herself, to relax in a way that was rare for her.

By the time they were all deep into the third round, Brittany was leaning against the bar, her face flushed, and her movements becoming uncoordinated. As the conversation shifted, Brittany’s gaze met Taylor’s, and for a moment, her playful energy faltered. “Taylor,” she began, her words slurred but deliberate, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Taylor leaned in, sensing the shift. “What is it?”

Brittany looked around, making sure no one else was paying attention. “Travis...” she began, her voice unsteady. “He’s been through a lot. With Kayla. I think he’s afraid to tell you everything. But you deserve to know.” She hesitated, then continued, her words tumbling out in a drunken rush. “She... she was awful to him. Played with his head, made him feel like nothing. She’d cut him down, make him feel small, and I didn’t realize how bad it was. She was abusive, Taylor. And I don’t think he’s ever told you that.”

Taylor froze. The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t realized how much of it was still eating away at him. He’d hinted at it, spoken vaguely about his past with Kayla, but this was something deeper. This wasn’t just a breakup; it was emotional abuse, something that Travis had carried with him, quietly, all this time. Her heart ached at the thought of him suffering in silence, and the anger she felt toward Kayla—surged inside her.

“Brittany, I... I didn’t know,” Taylor murmured, barely able to speak through the lump in her throat. She wanted to say more, but the words felt too heavy.

Brittany blinked at her, clearly more intoxicated than she realized. “He doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken. He’s an amazing guy, Taylor. He’s been through a lot... don’t hurt him,” she said, her words slurring as her eyes started to unfocus. Her head nodded a little, as if reassuring herself more than anything else.

Taylor gave her a reassuring smile, though her thoughts were swirling in chaos. She couldn’t shake the weight of what Brittany had just shared. Travis had been through so much, and she had no idea. But in that moment, she just stood silently, trying to absorb everything.

---

The next day at the game, the world felt different. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Brittany had told her—what Travis had endured. Her heart twisted at the thought of him still carrying that weight. He hadn’t asked for her to know the full extent of it, but now that she did, it was all she could think about.
Donna Kelce was sitting with her at the game. The roar of the crowd echoed in the background as the game finished, but Taylor’s mind was miles away.
“You know,” Donna said, her voice low but sharp with an edge to one of Travis friends, “the attention around us has been crazy lately. It’s... overwhelming. I know Travis thrives under pressure, but there are days when I wonder if it feels like it's all too much, like it’s all spinning out of control.”
Taylor’s stomach twisted at the thought of Travis and his family constantly being in the public eye, constantly having to navigate the intensity of her fame. Her thoughts were spiraling. What had she been thinking? Her world—her entire life—wasn’t easy. The expectations, the scrutiny, the constant spotlight. Could he really handle it? Could she?
She had seen it firsthand in how much Travis had already been through. How much he was still processing. What if all of this—her career, her fame, their growing relationship—was too much for him? What if he couldn’t handle the weight of it all? What if she was just another distraction to him, like so many others before?

——

Back in her Tribeca home after the game she paced, her hands trembling. Waiting for Travis to arrive her thoughts racing.
I need to stop now. It’s better to stop before it’s too late. The thought entered her mind like a dark cloud, threatening to consume her. Maybe she needed to walk away before it got worse, before it became impossible to leave without breaking something precious.

Taylor stood by the window, her hand lightly pressed against the cool glass. The city below buzzed with energy, but inside, she felt a heavy stillness—a storm brewing in the distance. A shift. Something subtle, but undeniable. She could feel it in her chest, this tightening, this unease. Travis. Their connection had deepened so quickly, and yet, she couldn’t shake the fear that history was about to repeat itself.
The memory hit her like a wave, sharp and sudden. It was a memory she had buried for so long, but now, with Travis, it resurfaced with alarming clarity. She couldn’t avoid it anymore.

——
Flashback
It was 2009. A time when her life had been a whirlwind of firsts—first love, first heartbreak, and everything in between. She met Taylor Lautner on the set of Valentine’s Day. They played high school sweethearts on screen, and it wasn’t long before that chemistry turned real. It was fast, it was intense, and for a while, it felt perfect.
But nothing ever stays perfect, does it?
She remembered the way Taylor had looked at her, the way his warm brown eyes had held so much hope and trust. He was everything she needed at that time—steady, kind, and so incredibly patient with her. He had adored her in a way that she had never felt before. But as the relationship went on, things began to unravel in ways she couldn’t understand.
They were both so young, and their worlds—his rising career and her already established fame—were pulling them in opposite directions. Taylor was always there, always supportive, but she had begun to pull away, unsure of how to navigate the pressure. The fame, the constant cameras, the endless questions—it all felt like too much. And when he needed her the most, when he opened up about his own insecurities, his own vulnerabilities, she didn’t know how to meet him there.

She remembered the night it ended. They were sitting in her apartment, the silence between them so thick it was suffocating. Taylor had looked at her, his face a mix of confusion and pain, and said the words that would stay with her forever.
“I don’t get it, Taylor,” he had whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ve been nothing but good to you. I’ve given you everything. And you... you just don’t feel the same way anymore, do you?”
She had tried to explain, but the words felt hollow. She had told him she wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship he wanted, that she didn’t know what she wanted at all. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t the full truth. The truth was, she was scared. Scared of how much he cared, scared of the intensity of it all. And scared that she would hurt him if she let herself love him the way he deserved.

“You’re breaking my heart, you know that?” Taylor had whispered, his voice so small, so hurt. “I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me. And now you’re just walking away?”
She had been silent, her heart pounding in her chest. He wasn’t angry. He was devastated. She had watched as the life drained from his eyes, the warmth gone, replaced by something cold and unfamiliar.
And she had walked away.

——

Present

The wine glass sat untouched on the table, filled with her favourite rosé, the condensation pooling into a tiny ring beneath it. She stared at it, unblinking, as though the answer to her misery might rise to the surface. But it didn’t. It never did.

She reached for the glass but stopped, her fingers curling into a fist just shy of the stem. She didn’t deserve the comfort, not tonight. Not when every moment she let this go on was another brick added to the inevitable wreckage she would leave in her wake.

Her phone buzzed on the table, a new text lighting up the screen. It was him.
“Hope your day’s been good, babe. Can’t wait to hear your voice.”

Her chest constricted. God, Travis.

He made it so easy to believe in them. With him, she felt light, unburdened, *safe.* And wasn’t that the cruelest part? He didn’t know. He didn’t see the stormclouds gathering, how the universe seemed to conspire against her happiness the moment she let herself want something. Want *someone.*

She reached for the phone but stopped short, her hand trembling. She could already hear his voice in her head, warm and steady, telling her it didn’t matter. That they could face it all together. But wasn’t that exactly the problem? He believed in her too much. He trusted her too much.

And she didn’t trust herself at all.

Her thoughts spiraled, dragging her back through the wreckage of her past. The broken relationships, the bitter headlines, the people who’d loved her until they realized they couldn’t handle the weight of her world. And then there was Travis—bright, uncomplicated Travis—who’d stepped into her life as though he could rewrite the rules. Who looked at her like she was just a girl, not a phenomenon.

But that wasn’t real. It couldn’t last.

She stood abruptly, pacing the room. The wine glass caught her eye again, taunting her. ‘Rosé flowing with your chosen family...’ She thought of his friends, the ease with which they’d welcomed her into their circle. She could almost see herself there, laughing, happy, normal.

Her hand clenched into a fist. Stop it. She couldn’t afford to romanticize something that was never meant to be hers.

If one thing had been different…

Her chest ached. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. What if she’d met him before the fame, before the chaos? What if she’d been someone else entirely? Would it have worked then? Would everything have been different?

Her breath hitched as tears burned her eyes. She sank onto the couch, her hands gripping her knees. She couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep dragging him into her orbit, knowing what it would cost him.

She reached for the phone again, her thumb hovering over his name. Her entire body shook as she tried to steady her breathing. She didn’t want to do this. She *wanted* to believe in the fantasy. But wanting wasn’t enough.

“I, I, I persist and resist the temptation to ask you,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

Her thumb pressed the button before she could stop herself.

It rang once. Twice.

“Taylor?” His voice came through the line, warm and familiar, and it shattered her completely. “Hey, babe. You okay?”

She clenched her eyes shut, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words lodged in her throat, caught between the love she felt and the choice she’d already made.

“No,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I’m not okay.”

---

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could hear him shift, probably sitting up straighter, his concern palpable even through the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Travis asked, his voice soft, coaxing. “Talk to me.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The silence stretched, wrapping around her throat like a noose. She pressed her free hand to her chest, trying to ease the ache that had settled there, but it was no use.

“Taylor,” he said again, a little more firmly this time, and the sound of his voice broke something loose inside her.

“I can’t—” she choked out, her voice cracking. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “I can’t do this to you, Travis. I can’t…”

“Can’t do what? What are you talking about?” His confusion only made it harder. He didn’t understand, couldn’t possibly see what she saw so clearly.

“This,” she said, her voice rising, the word heavy with all the things she couldn’t bring herself to say. “*Us.* You and me. It’s not—it’s not fair to you.”

“Taylor,” he started, but she cut him off, the dam breaking as the words poured out of her.

“You deserve someone who can give you everything, who doesn’t come with… with *all of this*.” She gestured wildly, even though he couldn’t see her, the tears streaming down her face now. “You deserve someone whose life doesn’t turn into a circus the second people find out you’re together. Someone who doesn’t—doesn’t hurt everyone they love just by existing.”

“Stop,” he said, his voice sharp, and it startled her enough that she froze. “Stop talking like that. You’re not… you’re not hurting me, Taylor.”

“Yes, I am!” she cried, the words ripped from her. “You just don’t see it yet. But you will. You will, and it’ll ruin you, and I can’t… I can’t let that happen.”

He was silent for a long moment, and she could hear him breathing, steady and measured, like he was trying to keep himself calm.

“Is this what you’ve been telling yourself?” he finally asked, his voice quieter now. “That you’re some kind of… of burden I can’t handle? Because I don’t know who put that idea in your head, but they’re wrong. They’re so wrong.”

She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t understand, Travis. You think this is something we can just… weather. But it’s not. My life *consumes* people. And I love you too much to let it consume you, too.”

His sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line nearly undid her. “You love me?” he asked, the words so soft she almost didn’t catch them.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. “Of course I do,” she whispered, the confession slipping out before she could stop it. “That’s why I have to let you go.”

“No,” he said immediately, his voice firm and resolute now. “No, you don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to push me away because you’re scared, Taylor.”

“It’s not just fear!” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s reality. You think you know what it’s like, but you don’t. You don’t know what the headlines will say, or how they’ll twist everything, or what it’ll feel like when they decide you’re the villain in a story they don’t even understand.”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to believe him, to believe they could actually make it through this. But then the weight of her past came crashing back down, suffocating her hope.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely audible now. “I can’t.”

“Taylor—”

She hung up before he could finish, the sound of his voice cutting off abruptly as she pressed the phone to her chest.

She sat there for a long time, the silence in the room deafening. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered into the void:

“It would’ve been fun… if you would’ve been the one.”

Chapter Text

—-
October 3 2023

Travis sat in his hotel room, the phone call still echoing in his mind. He knew this was coming, even though he hoped he was wrong. She was pulling away. Blake had pulled him aside and warned him the night he first had dinner with her and Ryan. She always did, Blake told him. And the weight of her words—how she thought she’d hurt him or wasn't enough for him—cut deeper than he cared to admit. But he wasn’t ready to give up on this. Not on her.

He stood up, pacing the room as he rubbed the back of his neck. His heart was pounding in his chest, the uncertainty gnawing at him. But his resolve was clear. She needed him. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Coach Reid. “Coach, I need to stay behind,” he said quickly, his voice steady despite the fire burning in his gut. “I’ll be back in time for training tomorrow. Just give me the night.”

Coach Reid’s voice came through, concerned but understanding. “Alright, Kelce. You’re on your own time tonight, but you better be ready for the morning. Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Coach.”

He hung up the phone and grabbed his bag. Within minutes, a car was waiting for him outside, ready to take him to Taylor’s place.

The drive felt like it took forever, the seconds dragging on like hours. When the car pulled up to her house, his nerves flared again. He'd called ahead, but security was taking their time, questioning whether they should let him in. He could understand the precaution—they didn’t know him like Taylor did—but that didn’t make the wait any easier.

He dialed Blake’s number.

"Blake, it’s me," Travis said, urgency thick in his voice. “Get to security. I need to see Taylor. She’s... she’s falling apart, and I can’t let her push me away. Please.”

There was a beat of silence before Blake spoke, a sigh of recognition in his tone. "I’ll handle it, Travis. Just stay there. I’ll figure out what happened."

A few minutes later, security finally cleared him, and Travis walked through the front door, his steps heavy with both determination and fear. When the door opened, he stepped into the hallway, hearing the muffled sound of sobs coming from behind a closed door. His chest tightened. His ex hadn’t liked to be vulnerable, instead going on the attack, so he wasn’t sure what to expect.

—-
Flashback 2021

The tension had been building for weeks, though Travis hadn’t seen it coming. He thought things were steady between him and Kayla, at least as much as they could be with his football schedule. But she’d been quieter lately, her responses curt, her smiles forced.

That evening, she was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Instagram with a scowl etched on her face. He’d just walked in from practice, tired but happy to see her.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, tossing his bag by the door. “What’s up?”

Kayla barely looked up, her thumbs flying across her phone screen. “Nothing.”

Travis grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen, glancing over at her. “You sure? You look upset.”

Her jaw tightened, and she finally set her phone down. “I was just looking at what the other girls are wearing. Wives, girlfriends—whatever. It’s all designer. Head-to-toe Dior, Gucci, Fendi. And I’m over here in last season’s Zara. It’s embarrassing, Travis.”

He leaned against the counter, surprised by her outburst. “Kayla, come on. You always look amazing. It’s not about the brand.”

Her laugh was short and bitter. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being judged next to them. People are already asking why I’m not dressed like everyone else, and do you know what that feels like? To have people assume it’s because you won’t spend the money?”

Travis sighed, running a hand over his face. He didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t let her spiral without saying his piece. “Kayla, I work hard for what I have. And I’m not saying that to rub it in your face. I just mean... it’s not about throwing money at things to fit in. You have your own style, your own money—you’ve always been independent, and that’s one of the things I love about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t patronize me, Travis. You don’t get it.”

“I’m not trying to patronize you,” he said gently. “But I can’t change who I am. I don’t want to be the guy who buys a closet full of designer just because everyone else is doing it. That’s not me. And I don’t think it has to be you either.”

Her eyes welled up, but she quickly blinked back the tears. “You’ll never understand how it feels to be compared all the time. To feel less than. I just—I don’t want to feel like I don’t belong.”

Before he could respond, she grabbed her phone and stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Travis let out a long breath, frustration and sadness mixing in his chest. He wanted to fix things, but he didn’t know how.

Later that night, as he sat on the couch scrolling through his own feed, he saw it.

Kayla had posted an Instagram story:
‘Crazy how some of us are out here struggling to keep up while others get everything handed to them. Must be nice.”

The backlash came swiftly. People took to X, tagging him and making assumptions. “Why isn’t Travis taking care of her?” one post asked. “What’s the point of dating a millionaire if he’s not buying you a Chanel bag?” another jeered.

He felt the weight of it all, the judgment, the accusations, and the distance growing between them.

Travis texted her, trying to open a conversation:
We need to talk about this. It’s not fair to either of us.

But she didn’t respond. The silence was louder than any argument they could have had.

Desperate to fix things, he bombarded her with texts, calls, and messages, pleading for a chance to explain himself, but she remained silent. Her coldness was suffocating. The damage was done. Instead of coming to him to work things out, Kayla had chosen to tear him down in front of everyone.

—-
Present

He knocked gently on the door. No answer. Another knock. Still nothing.

“Taylor,” he called softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's me. Let me in."

There was a long silence before he heard a faint, shaky response. "I don’t... I can’t."

Travis’s heart broke at the sound of her voice, so small and filled with self-doubt. He could hear it all in her tone—everything she was afraid of. He wasn’t leaving without seeing her. He needed her to understand: he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Taylor, please,” he said, his voice low and persistent. “Just let me in. You don’t have to say anything. I just need to be with you right now.”

Finally, the door creaked open, and there she was. Her eyes were red from crying, her face pale with exhaustion, and she was clutching something tightly in her hands.

“Travis…” Her voice was broken, barely a whisper.

Without saying a word, he stepped inside, his gaze falling on the object in her hand. It was his jersey. The one he’d given her. She was holding it like a lifeline.

He couldn’t bear to see her like this. He walked over to her, pulling her into his arms. She collapsed into him, her sobs muffled against his chest. He could feel the weight of everything she was carrying, everything she was trying to hide from him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, brushing her hair away from her face. "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."

But Taylor pulled back slightly, her tear-filled eyes locking with his. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Travis. I thought I’d be doing the right thing, but I’m just... scared.”

He cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at him. “Hey,” he said, his voice steady but full of warmth. “You didn’t hurt me. And you’re not going to. You’re scared, I get it. But you don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere, Taylor. Not now, not ever. Not unless you really mean it.”

Travis held her a little tighter, his voice soft as he spoke. “I get it. You’re scared. But we’re not the past, Taylor. I don’t want you to carry that weight. What I’ve been through and what you’ve been through doesn’t have to weigh on us. We’re in this together, I’m not overwhelmed I’m having the time of my life being with you.”

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of doubt. But there was none. He was so certain, and somehow, that certainty was enough to calm the storm inside her.

Taylor’s eyes searched his, still unsure, still fearful. But Travis wasn’t backing down. He knew what they had was real. He could feel it in the way she leaned into him, the way her hand gripped his like she was holding on for dear life.

“I want this, Taylor,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I want *you.* You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her tears slowed, her breathing evening out as she let herself believe him. “I love you,” she whispered, the words trembling between them.

“I love you too,” Travis replied immediately, pulling her back into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, Taylor. I’m right here.”

I just need to know it’s real,” she said quietly, searching his eyes for something, anything, that would tell her she wasn’t making the wrong decision.

“It’s real,” Travis said, his voice unwavering. “And I want this. I want *you*.” He stepped back slightly, reaching for his wrist and removing the matching diamond bracelet. Taylor’s eyes widened slightly as he held it out to her. “I got this for us,” he said softly, his thumb tracing the small engraving: "TNT." “So you know, even when everything feels overwhelming, I’m right here with you. We’re in this together.”

Travis watched as Taylor’s breath hitched at the gesture, the unexpected weight of the moment settling between them. He had meant for it to be something solid, a tangible sign of commitment amidst the whirlwind of their lives. He held out the bracelet, watching her fingers brush his as she took it, and he saw her eyes soften. “Travis, I…” she began, her voice trailing off.

He smiled gently, holding her gaze, the weight of everything he wanted to say conveyed in the quiet look he gave her. “You know,” he said with a light chuckle, “you’ve had that friendship bracelet for a while now. I thought it might be time for an upgrade. A girlfriend bracelet. After all, we’re TNT—Taylor N Travis, together, we’re dynamite.”

Taylor let out a soft laugh, her heart swelling at the words. He had expected it to hit her just right, and it did. “TNT,” she repeated, the words falling from her lips like a promise, the connection between them feeling undeniable.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “TNT. Explosive chemistry, a connection that can’t be ignored.” Her gaze was intense, her chest rising and falling in that way that always made him feel a little breathless.

She swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you,” she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I’m scared, but I love you. I don’t know what the future holds, but I want it to be with you.”

Travis felt his heart swell, a quiet smile spreading across his face as he reached for her, pulling her closer. “I love you too, Taylor. So much. You’re my girl, my lady. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

Her smile was small but genuine, and for a moment, all the weight of their fears seemed to lift. He felt it too—the relief, the certainty that this was real, that they were real.

Taylor looked down at the bracelet in her hand, the diamonds catching the light, and whispered to herself. “Alchemy.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Travis said after a moment, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “My bye week’s coming up, and... I’d love to come to your show. Fly to Argentina for the Eras tour. Would that be okay with you?”

Taylor’s breath caught, her surprise evident as she looked up at him. “Of course,” she said quickly, a smile spreading across her face. “I’d love that. You’re always welcome.”

Travis pulled her close again, the weight of everything between them speaking louder than words ever could. The bracelet, the promise, the love—he was all in, full throttle.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

October 6

The cabin on Lake Vermillion looked like a dream, tucked away in a frozen Minnesota landscape. Snow blanketed the roof, icicles shimmered like crystal, and the air was crisp with winter’s chill. Taylor had pulled every string she could to make this happen, knowing Travis deserved a special celebration before his game on Sunday.
She’d flown in earlier that day, carrying the thoughtful surprise she’d been planning for weeks. A night here felt perfect—peaceful, private, and filled with everything that made them happiest.

“You outdid yourself, Tay,” Travis said, shaking snow off his boots in the doorway. “This is...man, this is perfect.”
She turned to Travis, “I know it’s not exactly a Las Vegas penthouse,” she teased, “but I thought you might like it.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Tay, this is incredible. Secluded, cozy...and I’m pretty sure that’s a sauna out back? You know the way to a man’s heart.”
She laughed, nudging his arm. “Just wait. There’s more.”

After dinner—steaks and roasted veggies and Taylor’s famous chocolate cake— Taylor motioned for Travis to sit on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace. A small pile of meticulously wrapped gifts sat on the coffee table, their ribbons gleaming in the flickering light.
"Okay, birthday boy," she said, her voice teasing but warm. "Time to see what you got."
Travis rubbed his hands together dramatically. "Let’s see what we’re working with. No pressure, but if it’s socks, I’m calling my mom for a backup gift."
Taylor laughed. "You’ll survive." She nudged the first box toward him, a sleek black envelope with a golden bow.
He opened it slowly, grinning as he pulled out a glossy set of tickets. "No way. Courtside seats for the Nuggets game? And the whole VIP lounge for me and my crew?"
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I figured you'd want the best seats in the house to see Jokic do his thing."
He let out a low whistle, staring at the tickets. "You are so good at this. I might cry."
"Keep it together, Kelce. There’s more." She handed him a larger box next, watching as his eyes lit up.
Inside was a miniature replica of a racetrack, complete with tiny race cars zooming along. Tucked beneath it was a sleek invitation printed on high-end cardstock.
"Wait…what’s this?" he asked, tilting his head.
"An entire racetrack," Taylor explained, grinning. "Rented for you and your friends. You can drive to your heart’s content, complete with a pit crew and, yes, snacks. Lots of snacks."
Travis laughed, shaking his head. "You did not just buy me a racetrack day. This is insane."
"You like it?"
"Like it? Taylor, this is next-level. I mean, you already made my birthday perfect, and now this? What did I do to deserve you?" He reached for her hand, squeezing it.

"Just being you," she said softly, her heart swelling at the pure delight on his face.
She handed him the last box, smaller but wrapped with the same care.

The final box was smaller, wrapped in silver paper. He opened it carefully, revealing a pair of cufflinks—elegant and understated, inlaid with rubies and gold diamonds and set in platinum .
"These…" His voice softened as he picked them up. "These are beautiful."
"They’re for game day suits," Taylor explained, her cheeks flushing. "I wanted to give you something a little more personal. A reminder that I’m always cheering for you—even when I’m not there in person."
Travis set the cufflinks down and turned to her, his expression serious but full of warmth. "Taylor, you’ve completely outdone yourself. I mean it. I’m never letting you go. Thank you—for everything."
"Happy birthday, Travis," she whispered, leaning into his embrace.
"You make every day feel like my birthday," he murmured into her hair.
For a long moment, they sat together, surrounded by gifts, but more wrapped up in each other.

Later that evening, after a quick session in the outdoor sauna that left them breathless with laughter (“You can’t even handle hot wings, Kelce! How are you surviving this heat?”), they raced through the snow in swimsuits, their bare feet leaving trails to the hot tub.
Taylor gasped as the steaming water enveloped her. “Oh my God, this is heaven.”
Travis slid in beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders. “You’re heaven,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
The night air around the lake was crisp, the stars scattered across the sky like glitter. Taylor was sinking into the warmth of the hot tub, her shoulders relaxed, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
“Okay, okay,” she said, laughter bubbling up as she splashed Travis lightly. “Tell me again—your dad really said that?”
Travis leaned back, grinning wide. His wet hair curled adorably over his forehead as he adopted a deep, mock-serious tone. “‘Trav, you’re gonna be a star. But son, let’s be honest—you run like a giraffe on roller skates.’”
Taylor burst out laughing again, clutching the side of the hot tub for balance. “I can’t—stop! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, he wasn’t wrong,” Travis said, shrugging as he slung an arm across the edge of the tub. “I was all gangly legs and no coordination. Honestly, I was probably the least athletic Kelce at 13.”
“Hard to believe, Mr. Super Bowl Champ,” she teased, nudging his knee with her foot under the water.
“What can I say? I blossomed late,” he said with a wink.
Taylor grinned, her chest fluttering with a kind of giddy warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Well, happy birthday to late-blooming you. Do you feel wiser today?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said, his face deadpan. “This morning, I finally cracked the code on whether socks go on before or after pants. Big day.”
Taylor laughed so hard she had to cover her face with her hands. “I can’t with you!”
“Hey, these are the big questions, Swift,” he said, his voice laced with mock seriousness. “Philosophy-level stuff.”
She shook her head, still laughing, and then settled against the side of the tub, the humor fading into something softer. “Okay, but seriously. What’s your happiest birthday memory?”
Travis paused, his expression thoughtful. “You know, my 10th was pretty great. My mom baked this ridiculous cake shaped like a football, and my dad tried to coach me and Jason in a backyard game that turned into full-on chaos. Jason tackled my friend Nick into the bushes, and we couldn’t stop laughing the whole day.”
Taylor smiled, the image so vivid she could almost hear the laughter. “That’s adorable. I love that your family always makes things fun.”
“They do,” Travis said, his voice warm. “What about you? Any standout birthday moments?”
She hesitated, then smiled wistfully. “Austin’s fifth birthday. I was seven, and I decided I’d plan the whole thing. I made him this ridiculous scavenger hunt around the house, and when he got to the end, the ‘big treasure’ was this hideous glittery dragon I painted myself. He loved it so much he cried.”
Travis’s smile softened. “That’s sweet. You’ve always been the thoughtful big sister, huh?”
“I tried,” Taylor said, her cheeks flushing. “I loved making him happy. He was my favorite person in the world back then.”
“Still is, I bet,” Travis said knowingly.
She nodded, her heart tugging at the memory of little Austin. “Yeah, he is.”
Travis reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think 7-year-old you was onto something. Thoughtful and creative—classic Taylor Swift.”
Taylor felt a blush rise in her cheeks as she looked at him. His eyes sparkled with humor and kindness, and she suddenly realized how much she loved just being here with him.
“You’re pretty great, you know that?” she said softly.
He grinned. “I try.” Then he wiggled his eyebrows. “But if you’re gonna keep complimenting me, don’t stop now. Feels like a good birthday gift.”
She laughed, splashing him again. “Don’t push it, Kelce.”
“Oh, come on,” he teased, his laugh booming. “You haven’t even gotten to the part where you tell me I’m devastatingly handsome and the funniest guy you’ve ever met.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he said, grinning.
Maybe it was the stars or the warmth of the water, but Taylor felt a little breathless. Because he was right. She did love it—she loved him. He had her heart.
And she wasn’t sure she’d ever been happier.

——

Flashback: 2008

As Taylor stepped into the steaming water, her thoughts drifted to a night years ago. She’d been 19, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, desperate to be taken seriously in a relationship with someone who seemed to wield his age and experience like a weapon.

Her mother had been skeptical. “Are you sure about this, Taylor? Jake is so much older.”

But she’d waved the concerns away. “Mom, I’m fine,” she’d insisted, swallowing the nagging doubts she refused to acknowledge even to herself.

At first, it had felt like he painted her a blue sky, his compliments and attention intoxicating. But it wasn’t long before the cracks showed.

“That song you wrote?” he’d said once, his tone light but dismissive. “It’s cute. A little basic, but you’ll get better.”*

Every interaction felt like a chess game, the rules shifting without warning. She never knew which version of Jake she’d get—charming and attentive, or cold and condescending. One night, after a particularly icy phone call while she was out with friends, she’d stopped answering altogether.

She’d cried the whole way home, the girl in the dress who finally saw the truth.

And now, standing here with Travis—his easy smile, his genuine warmth—she felt the weight of all those old fears melting away.

---

Present

Taylor slid into the hot tub, shivering as the heat met her chilled skin. “Okay, this was a good idea,” she admitted, leaning back with a contented sigh.

“Told you,” Travis said, his grin wide. He stretched an arm along the edge of the tub, pulling her closer. “You always doubt me, Swift.”

“I don’t always doubt you,” she teased, her smile matching his. “Just...sometimes.”

He chuckled, his breath visible in the cold night air. “Name one time I’ve been wrong.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe when you said you could teach me to throw a perfect spiral? My thumb still hurts.”

“Okay, fine,” he said, laughing. “But you did get better!”

They fell into easy conversation, trading stories and doing impressions. Travis mimicked his dad coaching little league with exaggerated hand gestures and a booming voice that had Taylor laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

Not to be outdone, she launched into her best imitation of Austin as a toddler, stomping around and declaring, “I’m the boss!”

Travis doubled over, nearly slipping under the water. “Oh my God, I wish I’d known you back then,” he said, still chuckling. “You’re killing me.”

---

The laughter gradually subsided, leaving a comfortable silence. The stars above were impossibly bright, their light reflecting off the snow.

Travis turned to her, his expression soft. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right? I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Her breath caught, her heart swelling. “Travis...”

“No, I mean it,” he said, his voice steady. “I don’t know how I got this lucky, but I’m not gonna mess it up.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers. The kiss started slow, tender, but quickly deepened as his hand slid into her hair.

Taylor shifted closer, her arms looping around his neck. The heat of the water and the intensity of his kiss sent a thrill through her. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

“Travis,” she murmured against his lips, her voice breathless.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing along her jaw, down her neck.

She tilted her head back, giving him better access, her fingers tangling in his hair. The world beyond the hot tub disappeared, leaving only the two of them, the steam rising around them like a veil.

His hands slid up her back, his touch firm yet gentle. She felt her resolve slipping, every kiss, every touch drawing her closer to him in a way that felt inevitable.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words tumbling out unbidden.

He paused, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you too, Taylor. So much.”

Their lips met again, the kiss carrying all the emotions they couldn’t put into words. As the stars above bore silent witness, their souls crossed an unspoken threshold, their connection deepening in a way that left no room for doubt.

---

The steam rising from the hot tub swirled around them, mingling with the crisp, cold air of the Minnesota night. The cabin, nestled deep in the snow-covered woods of Lake Vermilion, felt like a secret haven—just the two of them, with no distractions.

Travis leaned back against the edge of the tub, the water up to his chest. His eyes glinted in the dim light, playful and intense. He reached over, brushing a lock of hair from Taylor’s face, his fingertips lingering on her skin.

"You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen me before," he teased, his voice low, thick with desire.

Taylor grinned, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the water. She took a moment to really look at him—his strong jaw, the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, the way his lips curved as he smiled. It was a smile that made her feel like the most important person in the world.

“I’ve seen you, but I’m still amazed,” she whispered, leaning in closer, her breath warm against his neck. She couldn’t help herself; everything about him made her feel this magnetic pull, a force she couldn’t fight. And frankly, she didn’t want to.

Travis let out a soft laugh, his hands moving to her shoulders, massaging gently. He watched as she closed her eyes, letting the sensation wash over her.

“I think I’m the one who’s amazed,” he said, his voice taking on a deeper, more seductive tone. His hand slid from her shoulders to her back, pulling her slightly closer until their bodies were just inches apart. The heat from the water and their proximity was enough to make everything feel electric.

Taylor opened her eyes and met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat as their faces neared, the tension between them palpable. "You’re impossible," she muttered, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

"Impossible to resist," Travis countered, his lips now fully pressing against hers, stealing away any coherent thought. The kiss was slow at first, lingering, testing. It felt like a promise, something deeper than the playful teasing they’d shared earlier. But as the seconds passed, it grew more urgent, more heated. She could feel his pulse quicken against hers.

Taylor’s hands, which had been resting on the edge of the tub, slid to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath her fingers as he pulled her closer, his body warm and solid against hers. She could barely think, only feel—his touch, his lips, the way his hands moved with deliberate intention, tracing the curves of her body like he was memorizing every inch of her.

She wanted more. Body and soul.

Her hands moved to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Travis let out a low, satisfied growl, his hands now moving down her back, gripping her in a way that made her body ache for him.

They broke the kiss for a brief moment, gasping for air. Taylor’s breath hitched as she looked up at him, seeing the desire in his eyes mirrored in her own. The water sloshed around them as he pulled her to straddle his lap, their bodies so close, it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Travis’s hands were everywhere now, exploring, caressing, his lips trailing down her neck, making her skin burn with each touch. Taylor felt like she was falling, but she didn’t want to stop it. Not now. Not ever.

She kissed him again, this time faster, more desperate. The heat of the water around them, the steam clouding the air, only heightened the intensity of the moment. They fit together perfectly, their movements becoming more synchronized, instinctual. There was no rush, just an unspoken understanding between them—this was where they were meant to be.

Travis’s lips found her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you." His voice was rough, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"I feel the same," she murmured, pulling him closer, if that was even possible, her heart pounding in her chest as their kiss deepened once again.

The world outside—the game on Sunday, the expectations, the pressure—seemed so far away. In this moment, in the heat of the water and the warmth of their embrace, there was nothing but them.

The kiss turned from gentle to urgent, a perfect dance of passion and longing. And as they held each other close, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, Taylor couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. She’d never felt so seen, so loved, so completely at peace.

She pulled back for just a second, looking down at Travis, his face flushed, his eyes dark with desire. And in that moment, she knew.

---

Wrapped in a towel afterward, Taylor couldn’t stop smiling. The warmth of the fire inside called to them, but for now, she was content to stay here, leaning against Travis as he pointed out constellations she didn’t know.

As they lay entwined on the sofa staring at the dark sky, the world around them still and silent, Taylor felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the water. Nobody had ever made her laugh like this. Nobody had ever made her feel so safe, so seen.

And as his lips brushed hers again, slow and reverent, she realized again something undeniable: nobody had ever had her heart like this. Nobody had ever had her like him.

Chapter Text

Travis POV

October 2023

By mid-afternoon, Travis was sure his phone was going to combust from all the calls. First, Jason with his worries. Then his mom, Donna, with her thinly veiled disapproval. And finally, Mark’s friend-of-a-friend rumor mill. Each conversation left him feeling more on edge, questioning what should have felt unshakable.
The doubt didn’t come from Taylor. It was everyone else around him who seemed to think she wasn’t the right fit for his life. But Travis knew better—or at least, he hoped he did.

——

“Trav, I’ve been thinking,” Jason said as soon as Travis picked up. “You’ve been my brother for over 30 years, so you know this comes from a place of love.”
“Here we go,” Travis muttered, bracing himself.
Jason ignored him. “It’s not about Taylor herself. She seems great. But I’m worried about you. You’re going all in way too fast.”
Travis sighed. “I’ve heard this before. What’s your point?”
“My point,” Jason said patiently, “is that you’re at the peak of your career. This is your time, Trav. You’ve worked your ass off to get here, and you’re risking everything by diving headfirst into something this intense.”
“I’m not ‘risking everything,’” Travis said, irritation creeping into his voice.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Jason shot back. “Dating someone like Taylor comes with baggage—media scrutiny, public pressure, the constant circus around your life. Do you think that’s not going to affect your focus on the game?”
Travis’s grip on the phone tightened. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” Jason said, softening. “But is it worth it? You’ve got a small window to make the most of your career. You can’t afford distractions. And Taylor—she’s a tornado, Trav. A beautiful, talented tornado, but still. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Travis was silent for a moment. “I don’t see her that way,” he said finally. “She’s not a distraction.”
Jason sighed. “I hope you’re right. Just... keep your head on straight, okay?”

——

Donna’s voice was tight over the phone, laced with concern but edged with judgment. “Travis, we need to have a serious talk about Taylor.”

Travis sighed, already exhausted by the conversation. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Travis,” Donna snapped. “You’ve got to think long and hard about this. Taylor’s a nice girl, but she’s been through more boyfriends than you’ve had football seasons. And you don’t just ignore that.”

Travis winced, his jaw tightening. “Seriously, Mom? You’re going to attack her like that?”

“I’m just being honest, Travis,” Donna replied, her tone cold. “You’ve got to look at the bigger picture here. She moves fast. She’s had all these high-profile relationships, and she’s always jumping from one to the next. There’s no stability with her.”

“She’s not like that,” Travis said, his voice defensive. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s been through a lot, just like me.”

“I don’t care what she’s been through,” Donna shot back. “All I care about is you. You’ve been hurt enough already, and now you’re running headfirst into something with her? Do you really think this is different? She’s just looking for someone to help her stay relevant. You’re just another guy on her list.”

Travis’s grip on the phone tightened, his frustration boiling over. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re just repeating everything the tabloids say. Taylor is nothing like the others. She’s real. She’s not using me.”

“Real?” Donna scoffed. “What, because she writes songs about her exes? You think she’s all of a sudden different? I’ve seen this before, Travis. She’s the queen of the media circus, and you’re just the next contestant. Don’t be so naive. You’re going to end up just like all her other boyfriends—used and discarded when she’s done with you.”

Travis’s chest tightened with anger, his voice low. “Don’t talk about her like that. You don’t know anything about her. You don’t know what she’s really like. I’m not going to let you or anyone else turn this into some tabloid story.”

“I’m just trying to protect you, honey,” Donna countered, her voice laced with concern but still harsh. “Kayla used you for your fame and money. I’ve seen this story before honey. And I’m telling you right now, Taylor’s doing the same thing. She’s got an image to uphold, and you’re just part of her show. She’s playing the game, and you’re too blinded by her to see it.”

“That’s enough,” Travis said, his voice sharp. “I’ve heard enough. You don’t get it. You really don’t. You think I don’t remember what you said on the Today Show when you met her? You called it ‘just okay,’ Mom. You made it sound like you didn’t even care to try and get to know her. What was that about?”

Donna was silent for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the mention of it. “I didn’t know what to say, Travis. I wasn’t about to feed into the media frenzy. You know how overwhelming all of this is.”

“No, I don’t know,” Travis said, his voice full of frustration. “You didn’t try. You didn’t even give her a chance. You just dismissed her like she was another headline. And that’s not fair. She deserves better than that. I deserve better than that.”

Donna’s voice softened, but her skepticism remained. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, honey. But I don’t want to see you get burned again. Taylor’s been through so much, and it’s hard for me to trust her intentions. She’s used relationships as a stepping stone, and I’m afraid you’re just another one.”

Travis clenched his jaw, his words coming out more forcefully. “That’s the thing, Mom. You’re looking at her past, but you’re not seeing who she is now. She’s not using me. She’s not using anyone. She’s real, and I’m not going to let you or anyone else try to tear that down.”

Donna sighed heavily. “I just want you to think about this. Think about what kind of life you’re stepping into with her. It’s not just her past, Travis—it’s her world. It’s messy, and it’s loud, and I’m afraid it’s going to swallow you whole.”

Travis’s voice was steady, but his words cut like steel. “I’ve thought about it. And I’m all in. Whether you like it or not, Taylor is part of my life now. And I need you to respect that.”

There was a long silence before Donna finally spoke. “I love you, Travis. I always will. But I don’t trust her.”

“Then that’s your problem,” Travis said quietly. “Because I’m not walking away from her. Not for you, not for anyone.”

He hung up before Donna could respond, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and sadness. He loved his mom, but this? This was a line she had no right to cross. Taylor was his choice, and he wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Donna, tear them apart.

——

The phone rang twice before Travis picked up. His friend Mark’s voice came through, hesitant and low. “Trav, can we talk?”

Travis sighed, the weight of the day’s earlier conversations still hanging over him. “Make it quick, Mark.”

There was a long pause before Mark spoke again, his tone cautious. “I heard something... from a buddy of mine who knows someone in Taylor’s camp. He said she’s still hung up on Matty.”

Travis felt his heart stop for a second, and his grip on the phone tightened. “What? Are you serious?”

“I mean, yeah, that’s what I’m hearing,” Mark said. “I don’t know how reliable it is, but they said she’s not really over him. And maybe... you’re just a rebound.”

A cold silence followed, and Travis could feel his anger bubbling up. “That’s bulls**t,” he said sharply, his voice tight with frustration. “You don’t know her. And neither does your buddy.”

Mark hesitated before speaking again, clearly unsure how to continue. “I get it, man. But think about it. She’s had a lot of guys in and out of her life, right? She jumped from Joe to Matty, and then to you. That’s a lot of turnover in a short time.”

Travis’s mind flashed to his earlier conversations with his mother and Jason. They’d said something similar. Was he just another guy in the rotation? His chest tightened, the anger mixing with doubt.

Mark pressed on. “I’m just saying, Trav. You and I both know how she and Matty go way back—what, almost a decade of history? It can’t be easy to just... let go. Especially after they got back together this year.”

Travis exhaled sharply, feeling the words hit him like a punch to the gut. Taylor and Matty’s history had been long, messy, and complicated. But it wasn’t just about that. It was about how much Taylor had been through, how much she had given, and how much she’d held onto.

“I’m not Matty, Mark,” Travis said quietly, the edge to his voice still there but quieter now. “I’m not just some guy she’s passing time with. I’m not gonna sit around waiting to be compared to her past. I’m done with that.”

Mark’s voice softened, but there was still an undertone of concern. “I get it, man. I really do. But I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. Taylor’s been through a lot, yeah, but you have, too. Just think about it. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Travis didn’t answer immediately. The question lingered in the air, heavier than the phone in his hand. He didn’t know what the right answer was, but he did know one thing: Taylor deserved more than being treated like some rebound or an afterthought. And he wasn’t about to be that guy for her.

Finally, he spoke, his voice steady, though his emotions were anything but. “I’m sure. I’m not backing down from this.”

Mark was quiet for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright, man. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah,” Travis said, his mind still racing, but his resolve growing stronger. “I’ll be fine.”

He hung up, throwing his phone on the couch beside him. His mind was spinning, and the words his friend had said clung to him like a shadow. The nagging feeling that maybe he was just a distraction, a rebound, something to fill the empty space left by Matty, crept in. But as he thought of Taylor, of the way she made him feel—whole, seen, and understood—he tried to push the doubt away.

He wasn’t just some guy. Not to her. And not to him.

——
Flashback: College, 2010

Melissa was everything Travis had wanted—funny, smart, and breathtakingly beautiful. They’d been friends for months, and when she pulled him onto the dance floor at a party, he thought his patience had finally paid off.
But when she leaned in to kiss him, she whispered, “Let’s make him jealous.”
“Who?” Travis asked, confused.
“My ex,” she admitted, her voice dripping with mischief.
Travis hesitated but went along with it. They danced, kissed, and spent the night acting like a couple.
The next morning, he woke up to a text. “Thanks for helping me get him back. You’re the best!”
His chest ached with humiliation. He had been nothing more than a pawn in her game.

---

Later That Evening

The evening had settled into a quiet, intimate space. Travis was sitting on the couch, his hands wrapped around a glass of whiskey, eyes flicking to Taylor as she set her bag down by the door. She’d flown in earlier that day for another game, and now, as they sat together in the calm of his house, the weight of the day’s conversations lingered.

He glanced at her, the glow of the lamp casting soft shadows on her face. "Hey," he began, voice steady but his thoughts still racing. "I need to ask you something. I’ve been hearing things... about you and Matty, about me. And I need to know. I need to hear it from you. Am I just... a rebound?"

The room went still. Her eyes widened slightly, and for a split second, she looked like she’d been caught off guard. But then she let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. "Travis..."

"I’m serious," he pressed, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. "When we started this, it was supposed to be fun. No strings. I get that. But now, I don’t know... I just—sometimes I feel like maybe I’m still just... a placeholder."

Taylor froze for a moment, her hand resting on the back of the couch. Her eyes flicked to his, and for the first time, she seemed unsure of herself. She sat down next to him, close but not touching, and let out a slow breath. Then she scooted closer, closing the space between them. Her voice was soft when she finally spoke. "You’re not a rebound, Travis. I swear."

He searched her face, trying to find the truth in her eyes. "Then what am I?"

She smiled—a real, heart-stopping smile—and took his hand in hers. "You’re the guy who made me laugh so hard I spilled my drink all over myself the first time we hung out. You’re the guy who taught me how to throw a football properly, even though I was terrible at it. You’re the guy who shows up with breakfast after my red-eye flights and acts like it’s no big deal."

Her voice softened, turning serious. "You’re not a rebound. You’re... you’re the person who made me believe in this again. In love. In trying, even when it’s scary."

Travis’s throat tightened, and he tried to brush off the emotion rising in his chest with a chuckle. "That’s a pretty good answer."

She laughed, too, nudging his knee with hers. "Well, it’s the truth. And honestly? You know when we started this, I wasn’t ready for anything serious. I was coming off a lot of hurt, and I didn’t know if I had it in me to trust someone again. But you... you snuck up on me, Trav. And now, I can’t imagine not having you in my life."

She paused, chewing on her lip as if searching for the right words. "I think, when I met you, I had a moment of clarity. Like, the first time I really saw you, I knew. I knew you were supposed to be in my life, that you were meant to be in my life. But that doesn’t mean it was the right time. That doesn’t mean I was ready for it." She swallowed, looking down at her hands. "I had to go through everything else first. All the pain, all the confusion. And maybe I pushed away the right things because I didn’t think I deserved them."

Travis leaned forward, searching her face for the words she wasn’t saying. "You don’t believe that now, do you?"

Her eyes softened as she met his gaze. "No. I don’t. But the things I had to go through before I could get here—before I could truly be with you—it feels like... it’s taken so much out of me. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated." She met his eyes again, her voice trembling. "And why I keep second-guessing everything."

He placed his glass down, shifting closer to her. "We’ve both been through our share of shit, Taylor. I need to know you’re in this, and not just because it’s the right time or because you feel like you’re ready. I need to know you really want this, that this isn’t some... band-aid for what came before."

Taylor’s gaze softened, and she reached for his hand. She was quiet for a long moment, the weight of his question sinking in. Finally, she spoke, her voice shaking.

"I want this. I want you," she said, her voice a raw whisper, barely above a breath. Her fingers trembled as they laced with his, and she looked away, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. "But I’ve been through so much, Trav. And sometimes I don’t know how to let go of it. Sometimes I don’t know how to stop running from it."

Travis squeezed her hand gently, grounding her. “Talk to me,” he urged softly. “Tell me what happened—with Joe, with Matty, with everything.”

Taylor’s gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her jeans. For a long moment, silence filled the space between them, the weight of her emotions almost tangible. Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling, cracking under the strain.

She sniffled, her voice trembling. "I was so happy with Joe for so long. We had this world, just the two of us, where everything felt... simple. Safe. But that world was fragile, Trav. It couldn’t survive the weight of everything outside of it."

She paused, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "Before COVID, we were already slipping. The cracks were there, but we ignored them because we didn’t want to lose what we had. And then lockdown came, and we were trapped in this bubble. We fell in love again—really in love. Quiet, private, beautiful love."
Her voice broke, and she pressed her hands to her face, trying to stifle a sob. "But when the world opened back up, it was like that love wasn’t enough anymore. He hated my fame, Trav. He hated that the world was always watching us, always commenting, always wanting more. He loved me, but he hated the life that came with me. And I couldn’t give that up. I couldn’t stop being who I am."

“Joe…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I broke up with him, Trav. Over the phone. Six years together, and I ended it with a call.” Her lips quivered, and she let out a bitter laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “After everything we’d been through, I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I told him it was over.”

Her voice shook, her hands clenched into fists. “I told myself I was doing the right thing, that I was setting him free. But the truth?” She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “The truth is, I was scared. Scared of his sadness. Scared of staying and losing myself. So, I ran.”

Her voice broke completely, tears spilling down her face. “So, I ended it. I told him he deserved someone who could give him the quiet, steady life he wanted. But the way his voice cracked when I said goodbye…” She covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking. “I broke his heart, Trav. I broke him. And I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about it.”

Travis’s heart ached as he listened, his thumb gently brushing the back of her hand. “Taylor…” he began, but she shook her head.

“And then, after Joe… there was Matty,” she continued, her tone bitter now.

“What happened with him?” Travis asked cautiously.

Taylor let out a shaky breath, her expression twisting with a mix of anger and sadness. “Matty was… intoxicating. After Joe, I was so desperate to feel something, anything. And Matty, Matty who’d been in my life for almost ten years, came in like a storm, saying all the right things, making me feel like I could breathe again. He called me the love of his life, Trav.”

Her voice cracked, her fingers curling tighter around his hand. “And I believed him. I let myself believe him because I wanted it to be true. I wanted to believe that after everything, someone could see me, could love me for who I was. It was two months—just 8 weeks—and then, out of nowhere, he disappeared. No texts, no calls, nothing. He ghosted me like I meant nothing to him.”

Her shoulders shook as she let out a bitter laugh. “How does someone do that? How do you say those things, make those promises, and then vanish? He left me questioning everything about myself. Was I not enough? Was I too much? Am I unlovable? Did I scare him away? It was like… like he ripped open every wound I thought was healed.”

Travis pulled her closer, his voice steady and warm. “Taylor, stop. You’re not too much, and you’re not unlovable. Matty’s a coward, and what he did says more about him than it ever will about you.”

She looked up at him, her expression raw and vulnerable. “But it’s not just about him. It’s me. I keep making the wrong choices, hurting people who love me, chasing after people who don’t.”

She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “I don’t know who I am without them—without Joe, without the chaos. I feel like I’ve lost myself.”

Travis wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. “You’re still here, Taylor. You’re still standing. And that means you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been through hell, but you don’t have to keep carrying it alone. I’m here. I see you. And you are not beyond repair.”

Taylor cried into his arm, “I feel like I’ve ruined everything and everyone, that I’m broken.”

"Taylor, no," Travis whispered, pulling her closer. "You didn’t ruin anything. You’re not broken. You never were."

She shook her head, tears streaming freely down her face now. "But that’s how it felt. I thought maybe if I could fix things with Matty, maybe if I could hold onto him, it would make up for all the things I felt were wrong with me. I kept going back to him, hoping things would change. But they never did." She paused, her voice thick with emotion.

Travis pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she cried, his heart aching for the pain she’d been carrying. He stroked her hair gently, his mind heavy with thoughts of her past and how hard it had been. But there was one more thing on his mind—something he hadn’t yet shared with her.

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "I never told you about Kayla, did I?" he asked softly.

Taylor shook her head, wiping her eyes. "No, you didn’t. You’ve mentioned her a couple of times, but you never really talked about it."

Travis hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Kayla wasn’t good for me, Taylor. She was an influencer, always trying to build a brand, trying to get attention wherever she could. She liked the idea of being with me, but not for who I was. She liked the *image* it gave her, the access to people she wanted to be around, the things I could get for her. She wanted the perks, the gifts, the events, but she didn’t care about me—not really. She was never content with just me. I wasn’t cool enough. I didn’t buy her enough. I never felt like I was enough for her, no matter how much I gave, how hard I tried to keep her happy. She always wanted more, and when she didn’t get it, she’d make me feel small. She’d make me feel like I wasn’t living up to her expectations, like I wasn’t enough of a man for her." His voice broke slightly, and he looked away, biting his lip. "It made me feel like shit, Taylor. Like I was nothing but a tool for her career."

Taylor’s heart broke for him, and she pulled him closer, her arms tight around him. "I’m so sorry, Trav. I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt."

He nodded, still holding her close. "I let it happen, though. I convinced myself it was okay because I was so desperate for love, for someone to care. But it wasn’t real. And when we broke up, I realized just how little I mattered to her, how little I ever really meant." He paused, his chest heavy with the weight of it all.

I can’t believe she treated you like that." Her voice was soft but filled with sincerity. "You’re amazing, Travis. You deserve someone who sees you for exactly who you are."

Travis closed his eyes, letting her warmth and empathy wash over him. The words, the doubts, the ghosts of past relationships—everything felt like it was slowly fading away. She wasn’t Kayla. She wasn’t someone who would use him or take him for granted.

Taylor continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it’s hard to trust again, but I’m not her. I’m not just looking for something to fill a void. I want us, Travis. I want what we have right here, right now. No more games, no more pretending. Just... us."

Travis pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any trace of doubt, but all he saw was the raw honesty that had always drawn him to her. There was no pretense, no manipulation—just a woman who had been through her own hell and was still standing, still wanting to build something real.

He nodded slowly, his chest tightening with the weight of his emotions. "I want this too, Taylor. I don’t care about anyone else’s opinion. What matters is that we’re here together."

Her eyes softened, and she gently cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his cheek. "I’m here, Trav. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not just filling a space for me. You’re everything I’ve been looking for, even if I didn’t know it at the time."

And in that moment, Travis felt it—the quiet certainty that, despite all the noise, despite all the past relationships and rumors, this was real. He wasn’t just another guy. He wasn’t someone’s backup plan or a rebound. He was her choice, her partner. And that was enough.

As they leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was as tender as it was full of promise, the doubts melted away. What was left was the quiet certainty that sometimes, after all the chaos and confusion, two people could still find each other amidst the wreckage.

This wasn’t exile. This was home.

---

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

October 15

Taylor adjusted her Chiefs jacket as she stepped into the private suite, the roar of the stadium washing over her like a wave. The energy was electric, the sea of red and gold a vivid reminder of where she was and why she was here. She’d been to plenty of major events, but this was different. This wasn’t her stage—it was Travis’s.

She found her seat, surrounded by friends and a few familiar faces, but her eyes were immediately drawn to the field. And there he was. Travis Kelce. Her man. The thought made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t expected.
From the moment the game started, Taylor was laser-focused. Every time Travis made a play, her hands clapped a little louder, her cheers a little more enthusiastic. When he caught a pass in the second quarter, she stood up, pumping her fist in the air as if she’d scored the touchdown herself.

At halftime, she glanced at her phone and saw a text from Travis:
You’re my good luck charm. Stay right there.
She smiled to herself, biting her lip.

The Chiefs had won, and the stadium erupted into cheers. Taylor clapped along with everyone else, hugging Travis parents, but her focus was on Travis as he jogged off the field, helmet in hand, sweat glistening on his face. He glanced up at her suite, his eyes locking on hers, and gave her a quick wink that sent a thrill down her spine.

She didn’t have to wait long. Minutes after the game ended, a member of the Chiefs staff escorted her down to the players’ lounge. The air was thick with the buzz of celebration—laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of a victory chant.
Then she saw him.

Travis stood across the room, still in his uniform, surrounded by teammates. He looked larger than life, but when his eyes found hers, his expression softened. He excused himself and crossed the room in a few long strides.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
“You were amazing out there,” Taylor murmured, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. “I’m so proud of you.”

Travis pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his smile wide and genuine. “Means the world that you were here.”

After the thrill of the victory began to settle, Travis led Taylor to a quiet corner of the stadium, away from the buzz of the crowd. The chill of the night air wrapped around them, and the sounds of the stadium felt distant, muffled.

“This is my favorite part,” Travis said, leaning back against the wall, his eyes locking with hers in a way that felt both intense and gentle.

“What part?” she asked, her voice soft, yet curious.

“Just being here with you,” he replied, his tone sincere. “The win, the game, all the craziness—it just means more when you’re here.”

Taylor’s heart warmed at his words. She had made sure to be there for him every step of the way, cheering him on, but now, in this moment, she felt a little unsure of herself. The cameras, the constant flashes, they’d been everywhere today, catching every little thing—every smile, every glance. The attention that followed her everywhere she went felt overwhelming at times. She wasn’t used to this kind of public closeness after 6 years in a very private relationship. It made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t fully anticipated.

“I love being here for you,” she said, her voice a little quieter, the vulnerability seeping through. “But I don’t know... do you ever feel like it’s... too much? With all the cameras and everything?”

Travis raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by her question. “Too much? How do you mean?”

“I just mean,” she hesitated, trying to find the right words, “I get so caught up in supporting you, cheering you on, but it’s like—it's like I’m always under a spotlight. And I don’t know... sometimes I feel like I’m just... too much. Too much of everything. The cameras, the attention—it’s hard to know if it’s ever gonna be too much for you.”

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of discomfort, for any hint that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling overwhelmed by the attention that came with being with her. The flashing lights, the constant focus on them—it was hard not to feel like a spectacle.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept his eyes on hers, studying her, like he could sense the weight she carried. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle but certain. “Taylor, you’re not too much. Not for me. You’re the one that I want.”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, but the worry still lingered in her chest. “I don’t want to embarrass you. I just... get so caught up in the moment, supporting you, and then... the cameras.”

Travis took a small step toward her, reaching out and gently cupping her face in his hands, guiding her gaze back to his. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. You’re here for me. You’re not here for anyone else. I’m not embarrassed by you, Tay. I’m proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished, and who you are. You’re my girl. Don’t ever think for a second you’re too much for me.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest at his words, the tension starting to ease. She felt his sincerity, felt the deep, unspoken understanding between them. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of always being the center of attention. It made her second guess her every move. Every time she cheered, every time she got caught up in the excitement of the game, she worried it would somehow be too much.
Like she had been so many times before.

——

Flashback January 2012

It was late at night, and Taylor was curled up in her childhood bedroom, home for the holidays , a box of tissues beside her. Her face was tear-streaked, the weight of the pain still settling in her chest. She could hear the faint sound of her mother’s soft footsteps approaching before the door creaked open.

"Sweetheart?" Andrea’s voice was gentle, filled with concern. "I heard you crying."

Taylor didn’t answer immediately. She wiped her face with her sleeve and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she spoke.

“I don’t understand, Mom. I thought he—" her voice cracked, and she couldn’t finish the sentence. She buried her face in her hands, feeling the familiar sting of rejection. “He doesn’t want me anymore. Not the real me.”

Her mother sat beside her, her presence a steady comfort. Andrea wrapped her arm around Taylor, pulling her close, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside had ceased to exist.

“Honey, listen to me,” Andrea whispered, her voice calm but firm. “Harry liked the idea of you. He liked the chase, the image of who he thought you were—someone untouchable, perfect. But when you started showing him the real you, when you let him see your heart, your thoughts, your true self... he wasn’t ready for that. That’s not your fault.”

Taylor sniffled, the tears continuing to fall. “But maybe I am too much, Mom. Maybe I give too much of myself too soon. Maybe I’m too much for anyone.”

Andrea held her tighter, her own voice thick with emotion. “You’re not too much, sweetheart. You’re just right. The right person will love you for who you are, the messy, beautiful, complicated person you’ve always been. He’ll cherish all of you—*all* of you. You don’t have to shrink yourself for someone else to fit. Not for anyone.”

Taylor closed her eyes, trying to take in the comfort of her mother’s words. “But what if I’m too much?”

Her mom smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair from Taylor’s forehead. “You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re everything. And the right person will see that and never want to change a thing.”

---

Present

“I just don’t want to mess things up,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I want to be here for you, but it’s hard when all eyes are on me.”

Travis smiled, his thumb brushing over her cheek in a comforting gesture. “You don’t mess things up, Tay. You make everything better. And I’m not embarrassed by you. I’m lucky to have you here with me. The cameras, the flashes—they can’t take away what’s real.”

Taylor let out a soft sigh, his words soothing the anxiety that had been gnawing at her. The worry still lingered at the back of her mind, but in that moment, with him holding her close and looking at her with so much care, she knew she didn’t have to worry. Not with him.

“You really think so?” she asked, searching his eyes for reassurance.

He nodded, his smile growing. “I know so.”

Taylor let her head rest against his chest for a moment, the sound of his steady heartbeat grounding her. It felt like everything else had faded away. No more cameras, no more spotlight—just them, together. And for the first time all night, she felt a peace settle over her. She was enough. More than enough. And Travis, her Travis, had made her feel that way.

“You’ve got me,” he added, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “and that’s all that matters.”

Taylor smiled softly, the tension melting away. She didn’t need to be anything more. Just being herself was enough.

—-

Later that evening Taylor sat on the kitchen counter, her legs swinging as she watched Travis move around the kitchen. He was heating up the meal Kumar had prepared earlier, his broad shoulders flexing under his hoodie as he worked.
“You know,” she said, her voice soft but teasing, “I’ve never seen a man look so good reheating food.”
He turned, holding a serving spoon like a microphone. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Miss Swift. Not everyone can pull off your level of culinary genius.”
She laughed, tilting her head as she studied him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he said easily, crossing the space to stand between her knees. He leaned in, his lips brushing her forehead. “Hungry?”
“For food? Maybe.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

—-
The plates were forgotten on the table as they ended up on the couch, sitting close enough that their legs pressed together. Taylor pulled up her phone. “I need to show you something Ashley sent me earlier. Prepare yourself.”
Travis groaned as soon as the clip started playing. On the screen, his younger self nervously answered a question about marry, kiss, or kill.
“Taylor Swift would be the kiss,” the Travis of years past said.
“Oh my God,” Taylor said, barely able to breathe through her laughter. “You were so serious about it!”
He covered his face with his hands. “I thought we weren’t bringing up Catching Kelce. That show was a mistake.”
“This wasn’t a mistake.” She leaned against him, her body shaking with laughter. “You manifested this.”
“I did not manifest anything.”
She paused the video and set her phone aside, turning to face him. “Oh, you did. And you kissed me tonight, didn’t you?”
His grin turned wicked as he leaned closer, his voice low. “I’m not done kissing you yet.”

——

He closed the distance between them, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that started slow, deliberate. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as the kiss deepened.
Taylor felt him smile against her lips, one hand slipping to the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist firmly. She let out a soft sound of approval, her body pressing closer to his.
“You’re making it really hard to stay respectable right now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw, kissing her once, twice, three times.
“Who said I want you to be respectable? Kiss me,” she replied, her voice breathless.

Travis didn’t need more encouragement. In one fluid motion, he lifted her off the couch, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. She laughed, her head tipping back as he carried her up the stairs.
“Travis, you can’t just carry me off like this,” she said, though her arms tightened around his neck.
“Watch me,” he said, his voice low and rough.
When they reached his bedroom, he nudged the door open with his foot and gently set her down. For a moment, he just looked at her, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.
“You’re staring,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.
“I can’t help it,” he said, his voice thick with admiration. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. I feel I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”

Her lips parted, her hands reaching for him as he came closer. This kiss was different—hotter, hungrier, as if the rest of the world had fallen away.
His hands roamed her body, sliding under the hem of her sweater, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She pushed his hoodie off his shoulders, her fingertips exploring the hard lines of his chest and arms.
“Taylor,” he said softly, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want you. You’re the one that I want,” she answered, her voice steady and full of emotion. “Always.”

The rest of their clothes disappeared in a blur, their laughter mingling with soft gasps as they tumbled onto the bed. Travis moved with a mix of tenderness and purpose, his hands exploring her as though memorizing every curve and line. His lips traced a path from her collarbone to her hip, each kiss deliberate, leaving her breathless beneath his touch.

Taylor’s fingers threaded through his hair, her touch equal parts encouragement and need. Their chemistry was undeniable, an electric pull that neither of them could—or wanted to—resist. She met his intensity with her own, her hands skimming across his shoulders and down his back, her voice trembling with affection as she whispered his name.

The world outside melted away as they fell into a rhythm that felt effortless, as natural as breathing. Every movement, every kiss was a silent affirmation of what they meant to each other, of the trust and love they shared. Travis watched her closely, his gaze locked on her face as he brought her to the edge again and again, his murmured reassurances grounding her even as her body arched beneath his.

Taylor shuddered, her breath hitching as the tension built within her until it snapped, her quiet cries filling the space between them. Travis held her through the waves of her release, his hands steady as he stroked her hair, his whispered praise warming her cheeks.

But he wasn’t done. His touch was unrelenting, moving over her with a focus that left her dizzy. She reached for him, trying to steady herself, but he simply grinned, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Her second climax was slower, drawn out by his gentle but unyielding attention, her body trembling under his until she finally collapsed back against the pillows. When she opened her eyes, Travis was watching her, his expression soft and filled with a quiet pride that made her chest tighten.

And then it shifted. His movements grew more urgent, his kisses deepening as he grabbed a condom and pushed inside her. Taylor welcomed him without hesitation, her arms wrapping tightly around him as their bodies joined. The intimacy between them reached new heights, their connection palpable with every touch, every whispered word of love.

The pace they found together was instinctive, an unspoken language that only they could understand. Travis moved with a perfect balance of strength and gentleness, his focus entirely on her as their breathing quickened. Taylor clung to him, her nails skimming his back as the pressure built again.

This time, they reached the edge together. Taylor’s cry mingled with Travis’s low groan as their bodies tensed and then unraveled in perfect sync. The intensity of the moment stole her breath, leaving her trembling in his arms as they clung to each other, their hearts pounding in unison. And as they lay entwined afterward, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room, the unspoken promises between them felt more real than ever.

---

Taylor lay sprawled on Travis’s chest, her body still tingling from the intensity of the night. She tilted her head up, resting her chin on his sternum as a playful smile curved her lips.

“You know,” she began, her tone teasing, “back in your Catching Kelce days, you said you’d kiss me.”

Travis groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Oh, come on. Are you seriously bringing that up now?”

She grinned, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. “I’m just saying, you did call it. But,” she added, trailing her fingers lazily along his chest, “you’ve also killed me tonight.”

He frowned, confused but intrigued. “Killed you? What are you talking about?”

“The French,” she said dramatically, “call an orgasm la petite mort. The little death. So, congratulations, Kelce. You’ve officially murdered me.”

Travis burst out laughing, his hand sliding to her waist as he shook his head. “Only you would find a way to make that sound both sexy and ridiculous.”

She laughed too, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “Well, I like to keep you on your toes.”

He smirked, pulling her closer so she was pressed fully against him. “If this is what ‘killing you’ gets me, I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Taylor’s giggle softened as their eyes met, the humor fading into something deeper. “I mean it, though. Tonight... you’re everything.”

Travis’s expression shifted, tender and full of unspoken promises. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his voice a low murmur. “For the record, the kiss was always the easy answer.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion until she realized what he meant. “Oh my god. The marry, kiss, kill thing?”

He grinned sheepishly but didn’t deny it.

Taylor laughed, her cheeks flushing as she leaned down to kiss him again. “You’re hilarious,” she whispered against his lips.

“Hmmm,” he murmured back, his eyes darkening with mischief. “But now I’ve kissed you and killed you... I guess that just leaves one thing.”

Taylor's breath hitched, her smile widening as she met his eyes, both of them fully aware of what he meant without a single word spoken.

And with that, the night deepened into something even more unforgettable, as the laughter faded into quiet intimacy, and the world outside disappeared completely.

Chapter Text

Travis POV
October 14, 2023

They were walking toward the car after dinner,
heading to watch SNL live, the flashes of New York paparazzi cameras already catching their every step. Taylor looked slightly tense, her nerves betraying her calm exterior. He could see her looking around, scanning the crowd, but he knew she was probably already anticipating the flood of cameras, the rush of attention they’d get together.

He could feel her hesitation, her unease, and it pushed him to act.

When they reached the car, Travis didn’t want to waste another second. He opened the door and, then went around the other side and without a word, gently pulled her toward him. Taylor looked up at him, startled, and for a moment, he saw the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes—the same nervous energy that had been there all night. But this time, it was different. This time, he wasn’t going to let her pull away. Not again.

Security, having learned their lesson from past incidents, immediately activated the privacy barrier as the car began moving, giving them the seclusion they desperately needed.

Taylor surged into Travis’s lap, her hands gripping his face as she kissed him like she couldn’t get close enough. Her lips were demanding, her hips grinding against him as if her body had a mind of its own.
Travis groaned into her mouth, his hands locking onto her waist to steady her frantic movements. “God, Tay,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “You’re on fire tonight.”
“I can’t help it,” she whispered, her breath shaky as she tugged at the hem of his shirt. “You drive me crazy.”
“Right back at you,” he murmured, his lips moving to her neck.
The air between them crackled with heat, and her hands roamed his body, tugging at his belt as she whimpered against his lips. “Need you, Travis,” she gasped, her thighs clenching as the ache between her legs grew unbearable.
He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged as he reached for his back pocket. “Hang on, baby. I’ve got a condom.”
But after patting down his pockets, his expression shifted to frustration. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?” she asked, her voice tight with need.
“I don’t have one. We used it yesterday when we ran out,” he admitted, his jaw clenching as he looked at her.
“For God’s sake, Travis!” she groaned, her head falling back in frustration. “I don’t care. I’m on the pill. Just take me. Please.”
Her desperation made his resolve waver, but he shook his head, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I can’t, baby. Not without a condom.”
“You’re killing me,” she whimpered, her voice almost a sob.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as his hand slid under her dress.
Taylor gasped as his fingers found her panties, already soaked. He groaned at the sensation, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric. “You’re dripping, Tay. God, you’re so ready for me.”
“Travis,” she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand. “Please.”
He slid one thick finger inside her, his touch precise and deliberate as she cried out. “So tight,” he murmured, his lips skimming her ear. “You feel so good.”
“More,” she begged, her voice breaking.
He slid a second finger inside her, stretching her as his thumb circled her clit. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembled with need.
“God, you’re wild for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.
“Please, Travis,” she cried, tears forming in her eyes from the intensity of her frustration and pleasure.
Her pleas were his undoing. He added a third finger, his movements relentless as she shattered in his arms, her cries muffled against his neck as her orgasm rolled through her. He held her tightly, his lips brushing her hair as he whispered soft praises.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their lips swollen and messy with the intensity of the kiss. Taylor’s lipstick was smudged, and for a brief second, Travis caught a glimpse of her surprised expression. He grinned, not even thinking twice.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring as he gently brushed her hair away from her face.

Taylor’s eyes softened, and she nodded slowly. There was still that edge of uncertainty in her gaze, but it was different now. The tension was gone, replaced by something deeper—trust. They looked outside towards the sparkling night.

Travis leaned back, resting his forehead against hers. “We’re doing this together. No more worrying, no more overthinking. It’s just us.”

She bit her lip, her fingers gently tracing the outline of his jaw as she gazed up at him. “I don’t know about all this,” she said, her voice hesitant, though she didn’t pull away. “I don’t know what to expect.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “You’re not the only one who feels that way,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “But we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Just then, Travis noticed the familiar flashes of cameras from outside the car. He’d been in front of cameras more times than he could count, but with Taylor, it felt different. He wasn’t used to this kind of connection, this intensity. But he wasn’t afraid of the spotlight.

“I’m used to this,” he said, a smirk on his lips as he gave a casual shrug. “The cameras don’t scare me. I’ve had more than enough practice.”

Taylor looked over at the flashing lights outside, then back at him. “You sure?” she asked, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness.

Travis grinned and nodded. “I’ve been in the spotlight for years. I know how to handle it. But this? You and me? That’s the real deal.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “We’re not just another headline. We’re TNT—explosive, together. And I’m ready for it.”

Taylor’s eyes widened for a second, but then she smiled, the uncertainty finally melting away. It felt like a turning point, a moment of clarity.

"Yeah," she said softly, her lips curling into a smile. "TNT. I like that."

---

Flashback
2019
Travis’s thoughts drifted as the car made its way through the city streets, the lights blurring outside the windows. A memory from his time with Kayla surfaced, one that made his stomach twist.
They’d been dating for a few weeks, and despite the chemistry, there had always been a distance. It wasn’t anything he could quite put his finger on. He liked her, he did, but something felt off. It wasn’t until a dinner out at a fancy restaurant that it all really hit him.
The candles flickered softly in the dim light, the white tablecloths crisp and clean, but there was an overwhelming sense that something was wrong. Kayla wasn’t present. She was glued to her phone, snapping pictures of everything—her glass of wine, the bread basket, the salad—and each time she picked it up, it felt like she was pulling further away from him.
“You’re not really present,” Travis had said, trying to keep his tone light but feeling a flicker of frustration deep inside.
Kayla looked up from her phone, her expression polite but distracted. “I’m just getting some content for my followers,” she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The word “content” hit him hard. He wasn’t just her date; he was part of her social media “content.” That’s all he was, just a backdrop for her next post.
But he didn’t say anything. He told himself it was no big deal, that she was just excited and this was her way of enjoying things. So, he let it slide. He smiled, pretended it didn’t bother him, and played along with the evening.
But as the night went on, the feeling settled deeper. She’d snap pictures of their food, their drinks, even selfies of the two of them with him looking goofy. She'd adjust his position, make sure he was facing the camera, and when he joked around to ease the awkwardness, she’d tell him to "be cooler"—to "not be so goofy."
“I’m just trying to get the perfect shot,” she’d say, but it stung. She wasn’t trying to enjoy the moment with him. She was trying to create the perfect Instagram story.
And that’s when it hit him: he was a character in her content, not someone she was really connecting with.
But Travis wasn’t the type to rock the boat. He didn’t want to cause drama, so he kept it all in. Maybe he wasn’t as “cool” as she wanted, but he liked to be himself. He liked to laugh, to joke, to be a little goofy. But with her, he felt the need to dial that back, to be the version of himself that she could post about without a second thought. It didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know how to make her see it.
So he tried harder, tried to be what she wanted, tried to be “cooler” in her eyes. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, didn’t want to disappoint her. If that meant toning down who he was, then so be it. At least she’d stay interested, right?
But deep down, something inside him knew this wasn’t sustainable.
He had learned over time that being someone else wasn’t how relationships should work. But back then, he hadn’t fully realized it yet. The doubts were there, but they were buried under the weight of trying to keep things easy, trying to fit into a mold that wasn’t meant for him.

---
Present

Travis couldn't take his eyes off her. The room buzzed with the sounds of chatter, the soft clink of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter, but none of it mattered. All he could focus on was Taylor, her soft smile lighting up the entire room. She was stunning, as usual, but tonight there was something different about her. There was a warmth to her, a lightness in the way she carried herself—something that made his heart race a little faster.

They were walking through the SNL after-party, a mix of industry elites and celebrities all vying for attention, but Travis didn’t care about any of that. He cared about Taylor. He had cared for a while now, but tonight, in this moment, it felt like it was all coming together in a way he hadn’t expected.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and she caught him looking, a soft blush creeping across her cheeks. Damn, she was beautiful. She always was, but seeing her like this, looking so genuine and unguarded, made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness.

"Travis," she murmured, her voice soft but steady, "I'm trying to keep it together."

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. "You’re doing more than keeping it together, Tay," he said with a grin. "You’ve got me enchanted, just like that night we met."

Her breath hitched, and her blush deepened. He could tell that the memory was hitting her just like it had hit him. The night they first met, the way everything had seemed to click, the spark that had been undeniable from the moment their eyes met. The night had felt like it was written in the stars, like something straight out of a movie. But what was happening now was real. And it was even better.

Travis took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against her waist as he pulled her toward the back of the venue, away from the crowd. He knew she was used to the attention, but tonight, it was different. They were both used to eyes on them, but the way she looked at him—like she wasn’t sure if this was all too much, too soon—it made him want to protect her even more.

——

By 4am they were back at her townhouse. Taylor sat curled up in one of his hoodies, her damp hair tucked behind her ears as she sipped tea.
“About earlier…” Travis began, his voice hesitant.

“Do you want to stop using condoms?”
Taylor froze, lifting her head to look at him. Her brows furrowed, confusion clouding her features. “Why wouldn’t we? I mean… aren’t we in a committed relationship?”

Her voice wavered, and he saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes. She pulled back slightly, her arms crossing defensively. “Unless… you’re not ready for that? Or you want to keep your options open?”

“Tay, no,” he said quickly, sitting up and pulling her into his lap. She resisted at first, but he held her firmly, his forehead pressed to hers. “That’s not it. Hell no. I’m not sleeping around. I don’t even want to look at anyone else.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but when he hesitated, she pulled back to search his face. “Then what is it?”

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I’ve never done it before. I’ve never been with someone without condoms.”
Her brow furrowed deeper. “What? But you were with your ex on and off for years.”

“We were long-distance most of the time,” he explained, his voice steady but low. “And even when we weren’t, I was too worried about unwanted pregnancies. I didn’t trust her like that. It wasn’t even something we talked about.”

Taylor blinked, her lips parting in disbelief. “But… you’ve girlfriends before. You’ve—”

“Had a lot of casual sex,” he interrupted, his tone blunt.
She flinched slightly, her gaze dropping to her lap. “Doesn’t sex mean something to you?” she asked, her voice small. “It’s always meant something to me.”

Travis’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in her voice. “With you, it’s different,” he said quickly. “It’s always meant something. You mean something, Tay. I need you to know that.”
Her eyes stayed fixed on her lap, her fingers playing with the edge of his hoodie. “I’ve only ever gone without condoms with Joe,” she admitted softly. “We were together for six years, and we were monogamous. I got tested after we broke up.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up to meet his eyes, “but remember that guy you saw after Joe? He wasn’t exactly a paragon of virtue.”

She blushed deeply, looking away. “We used condoms.”

“I know,” he said softly, cupping her cheek and turning her gaze back to his. “But they’re not foolproof. If we’re doing this, I think we should both get tested first.”

Taylor nodded, her voice quiet. “Only if it’s what you really want, not just to make me happy.”

He nodded, his expression soft but serious. “I just want to make sure we’re both safe. Condoms aren’t perfect, and I’ve been with… more women than I care to admit.”

She winced slightly, still embarrassed. “A lot?”
He sighed. “A lot. But I was always careful. I always used protection. And I’ll get tested too, okay? But this isn’t just about being safe. I want you to know that I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch his face. “You’re serious about this? About us?”

Travis leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “Full throttle baby. There’s nothing I want more than to take you raw, Tay. Nothing between us. Just you and me. Completely.”

Her breath hitched, her heart racing as she met his gaze. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.
His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. “Good. Because I plan on making it unforgettable.”

---

Chapter Text

Taylor's POV

November 9 2023
The dinner in Argentina had an unexpected energy. Taylor, Travis, and her dad Scott sat down at the restaurant, laughter and light conversation flowing as if they had known each other for years. Travis quickly realized that he was out of his depth when it came to Scott Swift, the king of dry humor and football rivalries.
"So, Travis," Scott began, his eyes narrowing in mock seriousness, "you realize you’re a Chief, right? That puts us on opposite sides of the field."
Travis raised an eyebrow, already bracing for the playful tension. "I know, Scott," he replied, trying to keep a straight face. "But tonight, I’m just here for dinner, not football. Can we call a truce?"
Scott snorted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine, truce for now. But when we talk about the Eagles, you better watch yourself," he teased, glancing at Travis in a way that made it clear he was only half-joking.
Taylor laughed, feeling the warmth between her two favorite men. It was an easy, comfortable night—the kind she wished she had more of in her life. Despite the playful jabs, Travis and Scott were getting along well, and Taylor couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.

She excused herself to the bathroom. As she pm returned down the hallway, she heard the tail end of a conversation she hadn’t expected—her dad’s voice, low but serious.
“…It’s not just about the fame, Travis. There are people out there who... well, they want to hurt her. You’ve seen the press, the stalkers, the crazy stuff. They’ll do anything to get close.”
Travis’s voice was calm but urgent. “I get it. I’ve seen it too. You have my word, Mr. Swift. I’ll protect her, no matter what. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m just telling you, it’s a different level. People think they know her, think they own her. I’ve seen it before. And now, it’s my job to protect her. I’m scared for her life, Travis.”
She could hear the weight in her dad’s voice, but Travis’s answer was steady and full of conviction. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure no one gets to her. It’s my job to protect her now too. You can trust me.”

The words were heavy, but there was a clear understanding between them: Scott had tested him, and Travis had passed. He respected that Travis was willing to protect Taylor fiercely, just as Scott still intended to do the same.

She walked back to the table, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. When she reentered the dining room, she found Travis looking up at her, that familiar warmth in his eyes. There was a quiet moment between them, a spark of something unspoken.
Travis stood, his hand going to hers immediately, guiding her back to the table with a soft smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice sincere.

Taylor nodded, her heart full as she looked up at him. “Yeah. Everything’s perfect.”
But inside, she felt a fire stirring—a fire that had been kindled in the quiet strength of Travis’s promise, and her dad’s silent approval. She wasn’t just being protected. She was being seen. Truly seen, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was falling into place.

---

The next morning, as Taylor stood in the shower at the hotel, the steam rising around her, she sang softly to herself. Karma played in her head, the lyrics tumbling from her lips without thinking.

“Karma is the guy on the Chiefs, coming straight home to me,” she hummed, the words tasting sweet as she felt the love and warmth radiating between them.
The melody was soothing, grounding her in the moment, and as she sang, she thought about how far she had come—from the pain of the past to this. To Travis.

“The guy on the Chiefs, coming straight home to me,” she hummed again, a little laugh escaping her lips at the irony of it all.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open, and Travis’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. His voice was low, playful. “I didn’t know I had a song.”

Taylor froze, her heart racing as she turned to see him standing there, his eyes filled with something far more intense than mere amusement. She felt the heat in the room intensify just by his presence, her pulse quickening.

“You’re in the song,” she said, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “And I think you’re about to get your own version of it.”
Travis stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything more, just walked toward her with a steady, confident stride. His eyes never left hers as he reached for her, his hands sliding over the smooth material of her dressing gown.

As he pulled her into his arms, his lips brushed against her ear, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s make this song one worth remembering.”

Taylor shivered at his words, her body already responding to the heat in his tone. She tilted her head, their mouths meeting in a kiss that was both soft and searing, a slow build that quickly turned desperate. She pressed against him, her hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as his tongue slid against hers in a rhythm that left her breathless.

“Travis,” she murmured against his lips, her voice shaky with need. “I want you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. “Tay…” he started, his tone heavy with restraint.

“Please,” she begged, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt to trace the hard planes of his stomach. “I need more.”

Travis groaned softly, his forehead resting against hers as he fought to steady himself. “Baby, I know you do. But you’ve got a three-hour concert tonight. You’ll be sore, and you know it.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down, her hands tugging him closer. “I don’t care,” she whispered, her eyes dark with desire. “I’ll deal with it.”

He chuckled, though it was low and strained, the sound vibrating against her skin. “You say that now, but I don’t want to be the reason you can’t give your fans the show they deserve.”

Taylor huffed, her pout more playful than serious, but she knew he was right. Still, the way he looked at her—like he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her—had her heart pounding.

“Fine,” she relented, though her lips found his again, kissing him deeply, fiercely, as if to prove just how much she wanted him.

Travis groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, holding her against him. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his lips trailing down her jaw and to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “But I’m not risking it. Tonight, you’re gonna shine, and afterward? I’ll give you everything you’re asking for and more.”

Her body ached with the promise in his words, but she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. “You’d better,” she murmured, her voice full of anticipation.

He pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they both worked to steady their breathing. “I’ll take care of you, Taylor. Always.”

And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew he was right. She had a show to give, a stage to command—and a man who would be waiting for her when the final note faded.

The guy on the screen was just a distant memory that day.
---

Flashback -
October 2022

The cold London night hung heavily in the air, and inside their spacious Hamstead house tension was thick. Taylor stood by the window, looking out at the quiet street below, her mind elsewhere. Joe was pacing back and forth, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket.

She could tell he was agitated. It had been like this for weeks, ever since the realization of what the Eras Tour, which she’d be announcing in a few weeks, truly meant had set in—how much of her life would be under a microscope, how much of her world would be out in the open for everyone to analyze. It had always been there, the scrutiny, but now it felt bigger, relentless. It was hard for her to ignore the feeling that, with each passing day, it was beginning to pull them farther apart.

“Joe,” Taylor started softly, turning to face him. “I get it. I know this tour is going to crazy. But this is my life, and it’s important to me.”

“I know,” he muttered, his voice strained, the words hanging in the air like a weight. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “But this is too much. I can’t keep doing this, Taylor. Every time I’m with you, everytime I’m at your concert, every move I make, it’s all being watched. Every expression, every step—it’s all being analyzed. I can’t breathe with all of it.” He stopped pacing, turning toward her with an intensity that made her heart ache. “You don’t get it. I don’t know how to be part of this world, part of *your* world, without feeling like I’m suffocating.”

Taylor felt the words cut deeper than she expected. His frustration wasn’t with her—it wasn’t even about her, really. It was about the life she was living, the pressure that came with being her. And, in some ways, it was about the life she could never leave behind. A world of constant eyes, opinions, and cameras.

She stepped toward him, her voice soft but steady. “I never wanted you to feel that way, Joe. I never wanted you to feel like... like you’re being swallowed by my world. I just want to share it with you, to have you there with me.”

He shook his head, his eyes clouded with something that looked like pain. “I want to be there with you. I want to support you. But it’s just... it’s overwhelming. I love you baby. And I want to support you in everything, but I feel like I’m losing myself in the process. I can’t keep pretending that it’s all fine when inside, I’m breaking.”

Taylor could hear the raw honesty in his voice, the sadness that he tried to hide behind his frustrations. His love for her was clear, but so was the struggle of being in her orbit. She understood—how could she not? The weight of it all was heavier than anyone could imagine. But hearing him say it like this, hearing the pain in his words, made it harder to deny that this was more than just a tour. It was a life. A life that would keep pulling them in different directions.

“I can’t keep pretending it’s not getting to me. It’s just... too much.” His voice cracked slightly, a faint tremor betraying the vulnerability he hated to show.

The sadness in his eyes was hard to ignore. Taylor wanted to reach out, to wrap him up in her arms and make everything better, but she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t the cause of this—it was the world they both lived in, the world she had chosen. And as much as she loved him, she couldn’t take that away. She couldn’t stop the pressure, couldn’t stop the cameras from following her everywhere she went.

“I know,” she whispered, her heart aching. “I know, Joe. And I hate that it’s doing this to you. But this is who I am. This is my life. I just... I don’t want to lose you in the middle of it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, as though trying to find the words that would make this easier. But there was nothing he could say that would fix the situation. She wasn’t asking him to change. She wasn’t asking him to be anything other than himself, but she could see the toll it was taking. He was torn between wanting to love her, wanting to support her, and the suffocating weight of her world.

Finally, he sighed, his voice barely audible. “I love you, Taylor. I’ll always love you. But I don’t know if I can do this.”

Her chest tightened, and she fought to keep her emotions in check, but the pain of his words hit her like a wave. She didn’t want him to walk away, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She wasn’t sure if there was anything she *could* do.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.

“I’m not leaving you,” he replied, his voice firm but full of sorrow. “I just need to figure out how to breathe again. How to love you without feeling like I’m losing myself.”

The words hung in the air between them, a fragile line that neither of them knew how to cross. Taylor wanted to run to him, to pull him into her arms and promise him that everything would be okay, that they would be okay. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

She wondered how much longer she could keep fighting to hold them together. How much more heartache could she endure? It felt like she was giving pieces of herself, endlessly, and all for nothing. There was only so much of herself she could give before it became too much, too draining. She felt a bitter ache settle deep inside, a realization that perhaps it was all in vain. How much longer could she keep pretending she hadn’t already given everything, only to be left empty, the spirit of their love gone without a trace?
---

Present day

Taylor’s heart raced as she stood under the spotlight in Buenos Aires, singing Karma with a new meaning, the lyrics transforming in her mind as she sang.

“Karma is the guy on the Chiefs, coming straight home to me,” she sang, her voice stronger, full of confidence and love. She caught Travis’s gaze from the crowd, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The crowd roared, but in that instant, it was just the two of them—connected through their love.

As she finished the song, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Travis, his eyes full of pride and disbelief. Her father stood nearby, equally beaming at her, but it was Travis’s face she couldn’t stop looking at. His smile said it all.

The concert ended, but the connection they shared lingered in the air. The crowd cheered, but all Taylor could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat as she ran offstage. Her legs carried her quickly to where Travis was waiting just in front of the curtain.

Before she could even reach him, she threw herself into his arms, her lips crashing into his with a passion that had been building all night. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, his body heat melding with hers.

"I am so proud of you, that was amazing," Travis murmured against her lips, his voice hoarse with desire.

And she didn’t need to say anything. She was already lost in him, the world outside falling away as their bodies pressed together, lost in the fire that seemed to burn between them.

——

The night at the hotel was a whirlwind of passion and urgency. As soon as the door closed behind them, Travis’s hands were on her, as though they couldn’t wait another second. His large hands were gentle but insistent, tracing the curves of her body, his touch making her skin hum with anticipation.

Travis cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing along her cheeks as his eyes searched hers. “You know,” he began, his voice low and steady, “I’ve never been comfortable enough in a relationship to stop using condoms. Ever. I’ve seen too much go wrong—teammates getting baby-trapped, relationships falling apart. It made me cautious, maybe even too cautious. But with you... you’re the only one who’s ever made me think differently.”

Taylor’s fingers trailed softly down his chest, her expression thoughtful as she listened. “I get that, Trav. With Joe, we eventually stopped, but only after a long time. It was such a measured, careful decision, you know? It never felt easy or natural—it was something we had to talk through over and over.”

Travis nodded, his grip tightening slightly as his protective instincts clearly kicked in. “And I respect that. You’ve always been smart about protecting yourself—about making sure it’s the right choice. I’ve been the same way, but with you, Tay... it’s just different. It’s not about caution or fear anymore. It’s about *us*. I trust what we have, and I know if something happened—if you fell pregnant—I’d be excited. Because it’s you. It’s us.”

Her eyes softened, and she tilted her head, her smile warm. “It feels so different this time, doesn’t it? Like there’s no hesitation, no doubt. We’ve talked about this, and I know we’re on the same page.”

Travis’s jaw tensed briefly, and his voice deepened with emotion. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve seen guys get burned because they weren’t in sync with their partners. I’ve always been cautious for a reason—I never wanted to end up in a situation where I couldn’t trust it was a decision we made together. But with you, Tay, I know we’re a team. We’ve both been tested and we both feel ready.”

Taylor’s fingers brushed along his jawline, her eyes glistening as she took in his words. “I feel the same way. I’ve never been this sure about anything. We’ve been tested, I’m on the Pill, we’ve taken all the responsible steps. But more than that, I just know—if something did happen, it wouldn’t be scary. We would face that decision together.”

He grinned, pulling her closer as his hands slid down to the small of her back. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this, Tay. The only one who makes me want to let go of all the rules I’ve made for myself. With you, it’s not about taking a chance—it’s about trusting what we already have.”

Taylor wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his. “And I trust us, Travis. You make me feel seen, safe, and loved in a way I didn’t even know I needed. That’s why this feels so right—because it’s you.”

His lips brushed hers, soft and slow at first, but with an intensity that spoke to every unspoken promise between them. When he pulled back, his voice was thick with emotion. “I love you, Taylor. And I’m all in, no matter what happens.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice steady. “With you, there’s no fear. Just us. I’m ready”

Taylor giggled as he pulled her toward him. She was still wearing her stage costume—sparkling and tight, midnight blue, the material hugging her every curve. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“God, you look amazing in this,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire, his hands sliding down her waist. But in his eagerness, his strong fingers caught the fabric, and with a soft *snap*, the delicate material tore and sequins fell to the ground. Taylor froze, her eyes wide in surprise.

She laughed loudly, almost hysterically, as the situation sank in. "Oh my god, I can’t believe you just did that!" she exclaimed between bursts of laughter, covering her mouth. "How am I going to tell the costume department I *accidentally* broke the costume?"

Travis paused, his face filled with sheepish amusement. “I didn’t mean to!” he said, his voice soft but full of mischief. “But you look too damn good in it to wait any longer.”

She chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief but still grinning. It was a beautiful moment, the kind where everything felt a little carefree, like the world outside the hotel room didn’t matter. She leaned up and kissed him, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

In the next breath, he pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers with a fierceness that matched the intensity in his eyes. His hands were still holding onto her, tracing the now-ripped edges of her costume, but it didn’t matter anymore. They were lost in each other.

Travis gently slid his fingers inside Taylor first, teasing her with slow, deliberate movements. Her breath hitched as the pressure built, the tension becoming unbearable yet exhilarating. Taylor’s breath hitched as Travis pushed inside her, the stretch almost too much yet perfect in every way. Her walls fluttered around him as he filled her completely, the slick heat of their connection sending an electric shock through her. For a moment, he stayed still, buried to the hilt, his breaths ragged against her neck.

“Taylor,” he groaned, his voice thick with awe and desperation. “You feel… fuck, I can’t even describe it. You’re so warm, so tight.”

Her body pulsed around him, the raw intimacy of feeling him without any barriers overwhelming her senses. Every nerve ending was alive, every inch of her skin hypersensitive to his touch. She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as her legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her.

“Move, Trav,” she begged, her voice trembling with need. “I need you to move.”

He pulled back slowly, the drag of his length against her inner walls making her gasp. When he thrust back in, it wasn’t careful or measured—it was raw, almost feral, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer.

The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, wet and primal, each stroke sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Taylor cried out, her nails digging into his back as her hips rose to meet his, desperate for more, for everything.

“God, you’re perfect,” he rasped, his hands gripping her hips as though grounding himself in the storm of his desire. “You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. I can feel you—every little pulse.”

Her clit throbbed with every movement, the friction building until it was almost unbearable. She could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched her, the way his thick length pressed against every sensitive spot inside her. It was too much, and yet she never wanted it to stop.

“Travis!” she gasped, her voice breaking as he angled his hips just right, hitting a spot that sent a wave of pleasure crashing through her.

“I’ve got you,” he panted, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’ll give you everything, Taylor. Just let go for me.”

Her body arched beneath him, her clit pulsing as the pressure inside her built higher and higher. She was on the edge, trembling, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.

And then he reached between them, his thumb finding her swollen, sensitive clit. The added pressure was her undoing. She shattered around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and crying out his name.

“Fuck, Taylor,” Travis groaned, his hips slamming into hers as her body milked him, pulling him deeper with every pulse. The slick heat of her release, the way her body gripped him so tightly, sent him over the edge.

With a guttural moan, he thrust into her one final time, his release spilling inside her, warm and thick. The sensation of him filling her, bare and unrestrained, sent aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her.

They stayed like that, tangled together, their bodies still trembling as they came down from the high. Taylor could feel his cum dripping out of her, a sensation so intimate it made her shiver.

“God,” Travis murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face as he looked down at her. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over this—over you.”

Taylor smiled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice soft but certain. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

In the quiet moments that followed, their heavy breathing mingling in the stillness of the room, Travis’s fingers brushed her damp hair back from her flushed face. His touch was impossibly tender, a stark contrast to the intensity they had just shared. His gaze, however, was transfixed on her, his chest tightening as he watched his release slowly drip from her, glistening against her soft skin.

Taylor lay sprawled beneath him, her golden hair a wild halo around her flushed face. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the aftershocks of her climax still rippling through her. Travis hovered above her, his broad body shadowing hers, his gaze fixed on her with a reverence that made her pulse race all over again.

“God,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, almost to himself. “Look at you.”

Her cheeks warmed under the intensity of his stare, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she stretched languidly, the lazy confidence in her movement drawing a grin from him. “What are you looking at?” she teased softly, her lips swollen and parted.

“You,” he said simply, his voice thick with awe. “The way you let me have you like this…” His hand trailed down her side, rough against her soft skin. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this.”

His words sent a shiver racing through her, and she reached up to stroke his jaw, her touch tender. “You already have me, Trav. All of me.”

The truth in her voice lit something in him. He leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a slow, deep kiss. One hand cradled her face while the other slid between them, his fingers finding her sensitive, swollen folds. She gasped into his mouth as his touch coaxed her back to life, her body arching beneath him.

“Still so warm,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers dipping inside her with ease. “So perfect.”

Taylor whimpered, her hips rolling instinctively against his hand. He pulled back slightly, his eyes drifting downward, catching the slick mess that coated his fingers as he moved them in and out of her. He froze for a moment, his gaze riveted.

“Look at this,” he murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing over her clit and making her jolt. “My cum… dripping out of you like this.” His voice was husky, filled with a mix of fascination and raw need.

Taylor blushed furiously at his words, but the heat between her legs only intensified under his attention. “Trav…” she breathed, her tone equal parts embarrassment and arousal.

He didn’t look away, utterly captivated by the way her body responded to him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he said, his voice thick. “Mine. Completely mine.” His fingers moved deliberately, collecting the evidence of their passion and spreading it over her sensitive folds.

The slick heat made her whimper, her thighs trembling as he continued to touch her. His thumb circled her clit with an intoxicating pressure, his fingers curling inside her to hit the spot that made her see stars.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice breaking as her nails dug into his shoulders.

“Never,” he promised, his lips finding her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that only heightened her pleasure. “I want to feel you come again, Tay. I want to watch you fall apart.”

Her breath hitched, her hips moving desperately against his hand. The pleasure built quickly, her overstimulated body teetering on the edge. With a soft cry, she shattered, her inner walls clenching around his fingers as her release washed over her.

Travis groaned, his eyes darkening as he watched her come undone, her slickness mixed with his release making her even more irresistible. He didn’t stop, didn’t relent, his fingers slowing only enough to prolong her pleasure, drawing out every last tremor.

Finally, when her body collapsed back against the bed, trembling and spent, he pulled his fingers from her. For a moment, he stared at them, coated in the mess they’d created together, before bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes locked on hers, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

Still breathless, Taylor reached for him, her fingers curling around his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss. “You drive me crazy,” she whispered against his lips.

His grin was all male satisfaction as he shifted, positioning himself between her thighs. His cock, still hard and slick from their earlier union, nudged at her entrance.

“You ready for me again, baby?” he asked, his tone rough but tender, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Yes,” she whispered, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “Always.”

He pushed into her slowly, groaning as her body welcomed him, still warm and wet with their combined passion. The sensation of her slick heat, the evidence of him still inside her, made his head spin.

“Fuck, Taylor,” he ground out, his movements slow and deliberate as he slid deep. “You feel so good, so perfect.”

Taylor moaned, her fingers threading through his hair as she urged him on. “Harder,” she pleaded, her voice raw. “I want all of you.”

And he gave it to her, his thrusts growing harder, faster, their bodies moving together in perfect, frenzied harmony. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound drowned out by the symphony of their pleasure.

“Mine,” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear as his hips slammed into hers.

“Yours,” she echoed, her nails dragging down his back, marking him as hers in return.

They moved together, lost in the intensity of their connection, until they both shattered once more, their cries mingling as they found their release together.

This time, as they collapsed into each other, sated and breathless, Taylor’s laughter broke the quiet. Travis grinned down at her, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face.

Finally, when the world outside seemed distant and irrelevant, Travis whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, Taylor. I want to always be the guy on the Chiefs coming straight home to you.”

And her answer was a kiss that told him more than words ever could.

Chapter Text

November 2023

Travis POV

Travis Kelce paced near the front door, stealing glances at the clock every few seconds. Donna was late, and the knot in his stomach only tightened with each passing minute.

A few days ago, he’d called her, inviting her to visit him and Taylor in their new house. He had all but begged her to come with an open mind, to see Taylor as the kind, genuine woman he loved—not the media persona Donna seemed wary of. “Travis, she’s Taylor Swift,” Donna had said, her voice heavy with doubt. “Do you even know what you’re getting into? She’s a spectacle, not a partner.” He’d pushed back, his voice unsteady but firm. “Mom, she’s more than that. She’s real, and I wish you’d give her a chance to show you.” Donna had eventually agreed, but the reluctance in her tone hadn’t gone unnoticed. Now, as her car pulled into the driveway, Travis’s nerves spiked.

The house was perfect, at least. He and Taylor had spent the morning making sure everything looked its best, but it wasn’t just about appearances. He wanted his mom to feel comfortable, to see how much thought and love had gone into their home.

Taylor appeared beside him, holding a mug of coffee. “You’re going to wear out the floorboards if you keep that up.”

He smiled down at her, grateful for her calm presence. “Just want her to feel comfortable and like our new house.”

“She’ll love the house,” Taylor reassured him.

Before Travis could respond, Donna’s car pulled into the driveway.

——

Donna stepped inside, giving her son a warm hug. “Travis, this place is beautiful,” she said, her tone neutral.

“Thanks, Mom.” He gestured toward Taylor. “You remember Taylor.”

Donna nodded politely. “Of course. Taylor.” Her smile was thin and brief.

“Hello Mrs. Kelce, it’s so lovely to see you again,” Taylor replied with her usual warmth.

As they moved into the living room, Donna’s gaze swept over the space, lingering on the framed photos of Taylor and Travis, the carefully arranged throw pillows, and the bouquet of fresh flowers on the dining table.

“This is very... curated,” Donna said, her voice laced with something Travis couldn’t quite place.

Taylor tilted her head, her smile faltering. “Well, we both put a lot into it. Travis has a great eye for—”

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Donna interrupted, her eyes narrowing at the stack of cookbooks on the counter.

Travis’s jaw tightened.

——

As Taylor headed to check on the dinner Donna leaned closer.
“So,” Donna began, her voice low, “you and Taylor. Things seem... serious.”
Travis leaned back, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, Mom. She’s amazing.”
Donna hesitated. “She’s certainly... something. But don’t you think this is all moving a little fast? She’s a global superstar, Travis. Her life is on a whole different level.”
Travis sighed. “I know she’s a big deal, but when it’s just us, she’s—”
“She’s Taylor Swift,” Donna interrupted. “The world watches her every move. And by extension, yours. Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of scrutiny? For the pace she lives her life?”
“Mom,” he said firmly, leaning forward. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. She makes me better—stronger, more grounded. And she’s not what people think. She’s real, she’s kind, and she’s in this for the right reasons.”
Donna studied him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. But her concern lingered.

---

As the afternoon wore on, the tension became more palpable. Donna’s comments grew sharper.

“Matching aprons?” she asked, holding up a pair hanging in the kitchen. “Did you start baking, Travis?”

Taylor smiled tentatively. “We’ve been trying a few recipes together. It’s been fun.”

Donna’s gaze didn’t soften. “Well, that’s... different.”

Taylor glanced at Travis, confusion and hurt flickering in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder but could feel her retreating.

At one point, Donna commented on the color of the living room walls. “A little bright for you, isn’t it, Travis?”

“I like it,” he said firmly.

“Taylor picked it, didn’t she?” Donna replied, her tone making it sound less like a question and more like an accusation.

Taylor’s smile faltered slightly. “We wanted it to feel like home.”
Donna arched a brow. “Home,” she echoed. “That’s quite the statement.”

Taylor excused herself to the kitchen, her face carefully composed.

---

Travis followed his mom into the den, shutting the door behind them.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

Donna crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

“You’re being rude to Taylor,” Travis said. “And it’s not okay. She’s been nothing but kind and welcoming, and you’re acting like she doesn’t belong here.”

Donna turned to her son, her arms crossed. “So, this is serious.”

Travis sighed, bracing himself. “Yeah, Mom. It is. I’ve told you this.”

Donna’s eyes narrowed. “Have you really thought about what this means? Not just for you, but for all of us?”
He frowned. “What do you mean, all of us?”
“I mean your brother. Kylie. The girls. Our entire family,” she said, her voice firm. “Travis, this isn’t just about you falling in love. It’s about bringing the spotlight onto everyone. Do you think Jason wants paparazzi camped outside his house? Or Kylie having to explain to her girls why their uncle’s relationship is in every tabloid?”
“Mom, it’s not going to be like that,” Travis said, though the words felt hollow even to him.
“Really?” Donna shot back. “Because that’s all I see whenever Taylor’s name comes up. She’s not just a person, Travis. She’s an empire. And empires come with consequences.”

He’d taken a deep breath, his heart aching with frustration. “Mom, she’s so much more than what you’ve read or seen. And I get it—you’re worried. But you don’t know her like I do. She tried to talk me out of dating her, you know? She was scared of the impact it might have on my life, on our family. She didn’t want to cause drama or make things harder for us. But I chose her anyway because I see her for who she really is. And I need you to trust me on this.”

“I’m not saying she’s not a good person,” Donna interrupted. “I’m saying her life is too big. Too loud. Do you really want that for yourself? For your future kids?”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m willing to deal with it. She’s worth it.”
Donna’s expression softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. “And what about her? Is she ready to deal with the fact that her life isn’t just hers anymore? That she has to think about more than just her image?”
“She already does,” Travis said, his voice quieter. “She’s been nothing but supportive of my life, my family. She’s trying, Mom.”
Donna studied him for a long moment before shaking her head. “I hope you’re right, Travis. I really do,” Donna sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, “I’m just being cautious, Travis. You’ve been swept off your feet, and I’ve seen this before.”

“With Kayla?” he guessed.

Donna nodded, her expression hardening.

---
Flashback

At first, Kayla had been nothing short of perfect in Donna’s eyes.
From the moment she stepped into their home, she had that polished charm. The kind of effortless grace that could light up a room, and Donna had been taken in, just like everyone else. It was clear to her that Travis had found someone special—someone who could hold her own in his world, someone who would fit perfectly into his high-profile life.
Kayla didn’t just win over Travis; she won over Donna too. Donna couldn’t help but admire how Kayla seemed to know exactly how to present herself. She was poised, composed, always with a smile and a compliment for everyone around her. It was as if she was made for this life, this glamorous existence that had become Travis’s.
“I love your place,” Kayla had said on one of their early visits, surveying the house with keen interest. “It’s got so much potential.” Her voice was warm, but there was something in her eyes that Donna couldn’t quite place.
She smiled at Donna, almost as if she had known her forever, and began to flatter her, ask about her life and family, things that made Donna feel seen and appreciated.
But it didn’t take long for Donna to start noticing little things, tiny cracks that hinted at something else beneath the surface.
One evening, Donna had invited Kayla and Travis to dinner at her house, wanting to make her feel welcome. Kayla had shown up looking impeccable as always, but when the evening turned to chores, Donna saw a side of Kayla she hadn’t expected.
“Do you need help in the kitchen?” Travis had asked, hoping to offer some assistance.
“Oh yes, Travis can you peel those potatoes for me and Kayla would you mind starting the salad?” Donna had asked.
Kayla had smiled sweetly but then quickly waved it off. “Oh no, I’m way too busy to cook or clean. I mean, I’m just not good at it,” she said with a light laugh, as though she was above it. “But hey, you two are doing great, right?”
Donna had been taken aback, Travis could see but she had brushed it off, assuming it was just Kayla’s way of being playful. But then it became a pattern—Kayla was always too busy, too important to do anything that didn’t fit into her idea of herself as a glamorous, untouchable figure.

Later that night, when the three of them were in the living room, Kayla had said something that would stay with Travis for a long time.
“You know, Travis is lucky to have someone like me,” Kayla had said, her voice casual but with an underlying edge. “I make him look good. Without me, he’d be lost.”
Donna had laughed nervously, but inside, something had shifted. She later told Travis that she had spent years watching Travis try so hard to be a good person, a good son, a good boyfriend. The thought that someone could belittle him like that, use him to fulfill their own sense of self-importance, had made Donna’s stomach twist.

Kayla’s love wasn’t unconditional. It came with conditions—conditions Travis had to meet if he wanted to be worthy of her attention. He had to change. He had to keep up. And eventually, he had to prove himself to her in ways that felt exhausting and soul-crushing.

---
Present

Donna looked at her son now, her voice softer. “I fell for it once, Travis. I saw someone who seemed perfect for you, and I ignored the red flags. I’m not saying Taylor is the same, but I need to protect you.”

Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Mom, Taylor’s not Kayla. She doesn’t try to change me. She doesn’t need to. She loves me for who I am, not who she wants me to be.”

Donna studied him, her expression unreadable.

“And if you actually opened your eyes,” Travis added, his frustration boiling over, “you’d see how much she cares for me. She’s not pretending, Mom. She’s the real deal.”

---

As dinner unfolded, Donna couldn’t help but notice the quiet, tender way Taylor and Travis interacted. There was no need for grand gestures; their love was evident in every glance, every soft touch, every shared smile.

Taylor had prepared the entire meal herself, with Travis eagerly helping wherever he could. As the dishes were passed around, Travis spoke about her with unfiltered admiration.

“She’s amazing, Mom,” he said as he placed a dish in front of Donna. “I thought I was just here to chop vegetables, but she made everything feel like a team effort. She has this way of making everything better when she’s around.”

Taylor looked over at him, her expression full of affection. “You were my rock in the kitchen. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Their eyes met, and the room seemed to quiet for a moment. Donna saw the depth of their connection—unspoken, yet undeniable.

When Travis accidentally knocked over a glass, spilling water across the table, Taylor was up immediately.

“Stay right there,” she said softly, grabbing a cloth. As she cleaned up, she glanced over at him with the gentlest smile. “You’re always so thoughtful—just a little too enthusiastic sometimes.”

Travis let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You make me want to be my best, Tay. Even if that sometimes means I try a little too hard.”

Taylor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re already more than enough.”

The evening continued with a calm rhythm, full of warmth and care. Travis reached for her hand under the table, holding it as they listened to Donna’s stories. Taylor rested her head lightly against his arm for a moment, and he turned to kiss the top of her hair.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Perfect,” she replied softly, her voice full of contentment.

Donna couldn’t help but take in the way Travis gently brushed a strand of hair from Taylor’s face or the way Taylor always made sure his plate was full before touching her own.

Donna watched it all, her defenses slowly crumbling. This wasn’t Kayla. This was someone who truly loved her son.

---

When Donna was preparing to leave, she asked Taylor to walk with her to the door.

“Taylor,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “I want to say I’ve been protective of Travis for a reason. He’s my son, and I’ve seen him hurt before. But tonight... I see how much you care about him. And how much he loves you. Taylor, I owe you an apology,” she said quietly.

Taylor blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You don’t—”

“I do,” Donna interrupted. “I’ve been... guarded. But it’s because I’ve seen my son hurt before, and I didn’t want that to happen again. But I can see now how much you love him. And how much he loves you.”

Taylor’s eyes softened, and she nodded. “He means everything to me. I just want him to feel safe and loved, always.”

Donna reached out, taking Taylor’s hand in hers. “I believe you, and I see it now. Thank you for being so good to him.”

As Donna hugged Travis goodbye, she murmured, “You’ve found someone special.”

“I know,” he replied, his gaze resting on Taylor, who was waiting with a gentle smile. “She has my heart.”

As Donna drove away, Travis stood on the porch with Taylor nestled in his arms. The evening air was cool, but the warmth of her presence wrapped around him like a second skin. He looked down at her, his heart swelling as she tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

Taylor smiled, her eyes shining with a tenderness that always undid him. "More than okay. Tonight was perfect, thanks to you."

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Thanks to us. You’re incredible, Tay. Mom sees that now—I know she does."

She buried her face in his chest, her arms tightening around him. "I just want her to know how much I love you, Trav. How much you mean to me."

"You show it every day," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And I’ll spend every day showing you the same."

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

November 2023

The living room was quiet except for the low murmur of a late-night talk show, the voices from the screen drowned by the storm brewing inside her. Taylor sat on the couch, curled up beneath a blanket, a half-empty glass of wine gripped tightly in her hand. The room was dim, lit only by the golden glow of the lamp beside her, but it felt suffocating, as though the shadows themselves were closing in.

Her phone sat on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with another notification. Another headline. Another opinion. The tabloids were relentless. They always had been, but this time, it felt personal in a way she couldn’t explain. Every word—"PR stunt," "distracting from Matty’s album," "closeting herself"—sliced through her defenses, sharp and cruel. She had built her entire life on honesty, her music a roadmap of her soul, and yet the world never stopped questioning her. It was like they couldn’t accept her for who she was, no matter what she gave.

She scrolled through her phone, the flood of comments overwhelming. The "Gaylor" conspiracies were louder than ever, dissecting her every move, twisting her love for Travis into another calculated act. It wasn’t just speculation—it was a judgment of her very existence. Her hands shook as she tossed the phone aside, tears brimming in her eyes.

The wine wasn’t helping, but she took another long sip, desperate for anything to dull the ache inside her. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Not tonight.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breath, but a sob escaped her throat, raw and jagged. Her mind spiraled, dark thoughts feeding off one another. What if they were right? What if she *was* too much? Too complicated, too dramatic, too… everything. What if Travis couldn’t handle it? What if this ruined him? What if she was destroying the one good thing she had left?

She needed someone—anyone—who could ground her. Abigail. Her fingers fumbled for her phone, shaking as she scrolled to her best friend’s name and hit call.

“Hey, Tay,” Abigail answered, her voice warm but immediately laced with concern. “What’s going on? It’s late.”

Taylor didn’t answer right away. Her chest tightened, and when the words finally came, they were broken, almost unrecognizable. “I’m not okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Abs, I’m not okay.”

Abigail’s tone shifted, sharp and focused. “Talk to me, babe. What’s happening?”

“The rumors.” Taylor’s voice cracked, her free hand clutching the blanket as though it could shield her from the onslaught in her mind. “They’re everywhere. Saying Travis and I are fake, that it’s all for PR. That I’m hiding who I really am. They’re saying… I’m too much. That I ruin everything I touch.”

“Tay,” Abigail said softly, but Taylor was already spiraling.

“I don’t know if I can take it anymore,” she said, the tears flowing freely now. “I thought I could handle it—I *have* handled it. For years. But this time, it’s like… I’m drowning, Abs. And Travis… he doesn’t deserve this. What if he starts to hate me for it? What if I ruin him too?”

“Stop,” Abigail said firmly, her voice cutting through Taylor’s sobs. “You’re not ruining anything. Travis loves you. He just bought a house for you for God’s sake. He’s a grown man; he can handle the noise. And you… you’re the strongest person I know.”

Taylor shook her head, even though Abigail couldn’t see her. “I don’t feel strong,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I feel like a mess. And I keep thinking about Joe—how the rumors and the pressure tore us apart. What if it happens again? What if I’m the problem?”

“You’re not the problem,” Abigail said fiercely. “You’re human, Taylor. And you’ve been carrying this weight for so long. But you don’t have to do it alone. Let Travis in. Let him be there for you.”

Taylor swallowed hard, the lump in her throat refusing to go away. “What if he can’t handle it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Abigail sighed, her tone softening. “Then he’s not the man you think he is. But I don’t believe that for a second. Travis isn’t like the others, Tay. He’s *with* you, not just beside you.”

The words sank in, slowly cutting through the fog of her panic. Taylor let out a shaky breath, wiping at her damp cheeks. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” Abigail said gently. “But you do need to stop isolating yourself. Talk to Travis. Let him help you.”

Taylor nodded, her grip on the wine glass loosening. “You’re right,” she whispered, though the fear still lingered.

Abigail’s voice softened even more. “You’re gonna be okay, Tay. I promise.”

There was another long silence, and then Abigail spoke again, a more serious tone creeping into her voice. “Hey, you’re not alone in this. I know it’s hard. I know how hard it was for Joe.”

Taylor’s chest tightened at the mention of Joe. Of course, the flashbacks came rushing in. The way the rumors had eaten away at her past relationship, the things they had never talked about—until it was too late.

——
October 2021

It was one of those quintessential British Sunday lunches. Joe had invited Taylor over to his parents’ house for what would be a “low-key Sunday roast.” His parents were delightful—welcoming and warm—but as usual, they had the uncanny ability to put their foot in it. It was always innocent, but always too blunt for Taylor’s liking.

The evening had started well enough. Joe’s mom had made her famous roast chicken, and his dad had regaled them with stories of the time he met Prince Charles (though, in truth, it was a rather unimpressive moment at a charity event). Taylor had laughed, tried to enjoy the atmosphere, but the nagging whispers of tabloid rumors were never far from her mind. Joe, of course, had assured her it didn’t bother him—"It’s all bollocks," he’d said with a shrug. But tonight, the rumors had followed them to his family’s dinner table.

It was his mother who first broke the tension. She sipped her wine, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she looked between Joe and Taylor. “So, Taylor, darling, we keep seeing the gossip magazines. I think one of them asked if you two were, you know... engaged yet? And another one says you're expecting a little bundle of joy. Is there any truth to those, or are they just the usual nonsense?”

Taylor froze mid-bite, her fork hovering over her plate. Her gaze flickered nervously to Joe, but his mother was already leaning in, clearly amused at the absurdity of the question.

Joe’s dad chuckled, but there was a hint of concern in his voice. “I mean, you two have been practically inseparable since Lockdown. Is there something we should know? We’ve got to get the room ready for the grandkids, you know.”

Taylor’s heart raced, the words hanging in the air like an uncomfortable cloud. She gave a tight-lipped smile, but before she could respond, Joe’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson. The ever-so-polite British humor he often used to deflect tension vanished, replaced with a stony silence.

“Seriously?” Joe muttered, his voice low. “That’s what you’re asking about right now?” He leaned back in his chair, his hands clutching the edge of the table. The anger simmering beneath his calm facade was starting to bubble over.

Taylor could feel the temperature shift. It was like watching a balloon being slowly deflated, the air hissing out. Joe wasn’t one for confrontation, but this—this was different.

His mother, oblivious to the tension she’d sparked, continued to smile. “Well, darling, we’re just curious. The tabloids make it sound so dramatic. You two seem so serious. I’m sure you’ve talked about it.”

Joe’s eyes flickered with something dark, the words hanging dangerously on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t hold back anymore. “You know what, Mum?” he snapped, his British politeness completely shattered. “I’m bloody sick of it. I’ve been asked about this crap for months now. And I’m tired of it. Every time we leave the house, there’s some headline about me proposing or getting Taylor pregnant. It’s ridiculous!”

Taylor winced, but she didn’t speak. She knew Joe didn’t handle stress well, especially when it came to family and public perception. She could feel the weight of his emotions, but her mind was spinning—this was exactly the kind of pressure she was always trying to avoid.

Joe’s father raised an eyebrow, the first sign of concern breaking through his usual joviality. “Joe, mate, calm down. It’s just gossip.”

“Gossip?!” Joe’s voice rose, the frustration making his words sharp. “It’s not just gossip, Dad. This shit is everywhere. And it’s affecting *us*.” His hands were trembling slightly now as he shoved his chair back and stood abruptly. “I can’t even go out without people asking if I’m engaged or having a kid with Taylor. How the hell is that normal? It’s bloody maddening.”

Taylor’s heart sank. This wasn’t how she’d imagined this dinner going. She had hoped for a night of normalcy, but the pressure of the rumors—and Joe’s inability to cope with it—had crushed any chance of peace.

“I’m done,” Joe muttered, turning away from the table. “I need a minute.” Without waiting for a response, he stormed off, heading straight for the hallway.

There was a tense silence as Joe’s parents exchanged looks, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Taylor could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, her hands cold as she clenched them tightly in her lap.

After a long moment, Joe’s father cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, love. He doesn’t usually... he doesn’t handle pressure well. He’s just upset.”

Taylor nodded quietly, her mind still on the way Joe had exploded. She felt her stomach tighten with guilt. She understood—maybe more than ever—just how much it hurt him. The rumors, the assumptions, they were like a weight on his shoulders.

When Joe eventually returned, his face was flushed, but his anger had softened into something closer to defeat. He avoided her gaze as he sat back down, but Taylor could tell he wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with the world, with the pressure.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low and apologetic taking her hands. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I didn’t mean to bring all this chaos into your lives,” Taylor said quietly, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. “I’m sorry for all of it. The rumors, the pressure—it’s not fair to you.”

Taylor, sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize to us,” Joe’s mom said gently, taking a seat beside her. “We understand more than you know. This life, the spotlight—it’s not easy for anyone involved.”

Joe’s dad nodded in agreement. “You’re a part of this family now, and we’re here for you, no matter what. We’ve seen the love you and Joe share, and that’s what matters most.”

But despite their reassurances, Taylor could feel the tension in the room. She could see the way Joe's shoulders had stiffened, the way he avoided her gaze. It was clear that while his parents may have forgiven her, he was still processing everything in his own way.

The silence grew heavier. Taylor’s heart was a tangled mess, a sharp contrast to the kind words his parents offered. She knew they were trying to ease the situation, but it didn’t change the reality of Joe’s feelings.

As the evening wore on, Taylor couldn’t shake the sense that things had shifted, not just between her and Joe, but in her own understanding of what their relationship had become. And as they sat around the dinner table, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, or just another hurdle to overcome.

---
Present

Could she keep doing this? Could they keep doing this? She sipped her wine and tried to push the thought away, but it wouldn’t leave.
Travis had been gone for hours. She hadn’t wanted to admit how much she missed him. But now, as she stared at the empty space beside her, she realized how much she craved his presence. How much she needed him to pull her out of this spiral. To remind her that they were okay. That they were real.
Just as the dark thoughts started to take over, the front door clicked open, and Taylor’s breath caught in her chest. She knew that sound. It was him.
He walked in, his broad frame filling the doorway. She smiled faintly but quickly looked down at her glass of wine, her fingers clenching around the stem. She didn’t want him to see how much she was falling apart. How she hated how this was all consuming. He deserved so much better than this.
But Travis wasn’t fooled. He immediately dropped his bag by the door and walked over to her, his eyes scanning her face with that knowing look he always wore when he could tell something was off.

Hey, baby,” he said softly, crouching down to her level. “What’s going on?”
Taylor blinked rapidly, trying to push the tears away, but the vulnerability was too much. The weight of the rumors, the pressure of being constantly judged, it was all too much sometimes.
“I’m just... tired,” she said, forcing a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Tired of it all.”
His hand gently cupped her cheek, lifting her face to meet his gaze. “Tired of what?”
“The tabloids. The rumors. The pressure... everything.” She let out a long breath. “I hate that I can’t just be with you without all of this... noise. Every time I think we’ve found peace, it’s like someone is trying to tear us apart.”
His expression softened, his thumb brushing away the faint tear she hadn’t even realized had fallen. He wasn’t one for many words, but in moments like this, his presence was all that mattered.
“I get it,” he said, his voice steady. “It’s a lot. But we’re stronger than that, Tay. We’ll get through it together.”
She shook her head, the wine in her hand now feeling too heavy. “But can you handle it?” Her voice cracked, betraying the weakness she was trying to hide. “Can we handle it?”

Before he could respond, she stood up abruptly, her heart pounding as she started pacing the room. “I know it’s stupid to let it get to me. But sometimes it feels like everyone’s just waiting for us to fail. Or waiting to prove we’re not real. And it scares me, Travis. Because I care about you so much. And I don’t want this to be just another thing for people to use against us.”
The room was thick with the tension between them. Travis stepped closer, his hand catching hers. “Hey, hey...” He tugged her gently toward him, his gaze never leaving hers. “You’re not too much, okay? And I can handle this. We can handle this.”
But even as his words sank in, Taylor couldn’t stop the feeling of doubt creeping in. What if he couldn’t? What if all of this—the relationship, the attention, the rumors—was too much? For him. For her.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re carrying all of this for me.”
Travis’s jaw tightened, but there was a softness in his eyes, the kind that made Taylor’s heart flutter despite everything. “Baby, you’re never a burden. And I’m not carrying anything that’s yours to carry. This is our thing, okay? And I’m here for all of it. The good and the bad. The messy parts, the loud parts... and even the quiet parts, like this.”
Before she could reply, Travis closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly against him. The warmth of his embrace washed over her, and she felt like she could breathe again.
“I got you, Tay,” he murmured into her hair. “We’ll get through this. No matter what anyone says.”
She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. “You really think so?”
He nodded, that mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t just think it. I know it.”
The air between them shifted, and before Taylor could say anything else, Travis kissed her—a kiss that was slow and deep and filled with everything they couldn’t say aloud. His hands framed her face, his thumbs grazing her cheeks, and for a brief, fleeting moment, all the noise of the world outside them disappeared. All that was left was the connection between them.
Taylor’s hands slid up to his chest, pulling him closer, the heat between them intensifying with each passing second. She didn’t want to think about the world outside. She didn’t want to think about the rumors, or the headlines, or the people who didn’t understand. All she wanted was this. Him.
Travis deepened the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. She moaned softly, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. She didn’t care about the world or the questions or the rumors. In this moment, it was just him, just them.
He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. “And nothing can take that away from us.”
She smiled, her heart soaring, feeling like she was finally grounded in something real amidst the chaos.
“Then show me,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Travis didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant, he was closer, his body pressing her back against the couch as his lips found hers in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters. But it didn’t take long for that to shift. The tension that had been building between them—the unsaid words, the quiet frustration—exploded in an urgent, hungry kiss.

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, as if he needed to feel the warmth of her against him. Taylor’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer. She could feel the heat radiating between them, the connection sparking, igniting with each touch, each press of his lips.

Her hands slid down to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, her heart racing in her chest. She could barely catch her breath as Travis deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a need that matched her own. He groaned softly when she pulled him closer, her body arching into his, matching the hunger in his kiss.

He pulled away for a split second, both of them gasping for air, their eyes locking. His pupils were dilated, his breath ragged, and she could see the storm of desire raging inside him.

“You’re sure about this?” he whispered, his voice low, rough, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

Taylor’s response was a breathless laugh, a smile tugging at her lips as she nodded. “More sure than I’ve ever been.”

That was all the confirmation he needed.

With one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him back toward the bedroom. The door shut behind them with a soft thud, but they didn’t pause, their mouths meeting again, the kiss deep and unrelenting. Every inch of her body seemed to hum with electricity, her skin alive beneath his touch.

He laid her down on the bed with the gentleness of someone who had all the time in the world, but with the hunger of someone who couldn’t wait another second. His hands moved over her body with reverence, a mix of tenderness and urgency that left her breathless.

“Travis…” she whispered, her hands tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ve got you, baby. Always. You belong to me.”

Taylor’s hands slipped beneath his shirt, her fingers trailing over the hard planes of his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. She sighed softly, her breath catching as her nails lightly grazed his muscles, her exploration earning a low groan from him. Travis tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, his lips finding hers again in a kiss that was all fire and desperation.

Her back hit the bed as he leaned over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, and she shivered at the feel of him. His lips left hers, traveling a slow, deliberate path down her neck, his stubble scraping against her sensitive skin. It was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and she arched into him, her body craving more.

“Taylor,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough, sending shivers cascading down her spine. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging slightly as he kissed lower, his lips and tongue exploring her collarbone, her shoulders, every inch of her he could reach. She felt utterly consumed, as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

“Travis,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, her hips shifting beneath him. Her hands roamed his back, tracing the broad expanse of his shoulders, the dip of his spine, until she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, urging him closer.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his tone gentle but commanding.

“It’s not enough,” she shot back, her voice breathless as she tugged him back down, their lips colliding in a kiss that was wild and reckless. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and she gasped when she felt the hard press of him against her.

Travis’s hands were everywhere—gripping her thighs, sliding under her shirt, pulling it over her head to reveal bare skin that he couldn’t stop touching. His mouth followed, worshiping her with lips and tongue and teeth, drawing sounds from her that she barely recognize as her own.

When he finally shed the last of their clothing, Taylor felt a jolt of nerves, followed by an overwhelming wave of desire.

Taylor’s hands slid beneath Travis’s shirt, her fingers tracing the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, savoring the heat of his skin. She felt him shudder under her touch, his breath hitching as she explored. In response, he leaned into her, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was slow but insistent, his hands cradling her face as though she were something precious.

He broke away briefly, tugging his shirt off and tossing it aside before returning to her, his weight pressing her into the bed. Taylor’s fingers roamed over his bare back, feeling every flex of his muscles as he shifted above her. His lips trailed a path down her neck, lingering at her collarbone, each kiss sending a shiver racing through her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky and reverent. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers brushing her stomach as he slowly lifted it. She arched into him, her heart racing as he removed the last barrier between them.

Travis’s mouth followed, kissing his way down her body with a mix of tenderness and hunger. Taylor’s breath hitched when he settled lower, his hands parting her thighs gently. His touch was slow and deliberate, as if he were committing every inch of her to memory.

She gasped, her head falling back as his lips and tongue explored her, the sensations overwhelming and yet impossibly perfect. It was a level of intimacy she hadn’t expected but craved completely. Every stroke, every soft press of his lips seemed to unravel her, her body trembling under his ministrations. His strength, his care—it left her feeling worshipped in a way that went beyond the physical.

“Travis,” she whispered, her voice breathless, her hands gripping the sheets as he continued to coax wave after wave of pleasure from her. She felt herself nearing the edge, her entire body tightening as he pushed her higher.

When she finally broke, it was with his name on her lips, her body trembling as the release swept through her. He stayed with her, holding her as she came down, his kisses softening but never stopping, grounding her in the moment.

He moved back up, kissing her deeply, and she could taste herself on his lips—a strangely intimate connection that made her heart race all over again. Their movements became more urgent as he shed the last of his clothing, his body pressing fully against hers. Taylor’s fingers roamed his broad back, her touch encouraging him as he lined himself up with her.

You’ belong to me baby,” he murmured, his voice strained as he kissed her again, softer this time, as if trying to ground them both in the moment. He shifted, and she felt the head of him pressing against her, her breath hitching as he began to push inside. It was intense—almost too much. A sharp, fleeting pain that melted into a dizzying pleasure as he filled her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body adjusted to his size, the stretch sending shockwaves of sensation through her. “Okay?” Travis asked, his voice thick, his movements stilled as he searched her face for any sign of discomfort. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.” He didn’t. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts measured and deliberate, allowing her body to acclimate to the overwhelming fullness. But as her hips began to meet his, as her soft moans turned into breathless pleas for more, he lost his restraint.

Taylor gasped as he pounded into her, the sensation was overwhelming in the best way, and she clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. He began to thrust more wildly drawing them deeper into a rhythm that felt both natural and electric.

Their connection was raw and unfiltered, with nothing between them. The intimacy of it—skin against skin, every sensation amplified—heightened the experience, leaving them both breathless. Taylor felt utterly consumed, every nerve alive under his touch, every movement deepening the bond between them.

When they finally reached their peak together, the moment was all-encompassing, their bodies trembling as they held onto each other. Travis collapsed beside her, his arms pulling her close, their breaths mingling as they lay tangled together.

Taylor could feel the lingering warmth of him within her, a physical reminder of their connection. As she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, she felt a profound sense of peace. This wasn’t just passion—it was something deeper, something neither of them could deny.

As their breathing slowed, he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Taylor smiled back, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “I could say the same about you,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of emotion.

In that moment, the world outside their room didn’t matter. It was just them, wrapped in each other, their love wild and all-consuming.

Chapter Text

Travis POV

Late Autumn 2023

The living room buzzed with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter. Travis's friends were scattered around, some engrossed in a heated game of Grand Theft Auto, others nursing drinks and sharing stories. The atmosphere was relaxed, a perfect Saturday night in his new place.

The party was still going strong, but Travis barely noticed anymore. His focus had narrowed down to the woman beside him—Taylor. She was nestled into his side on the sofa, her legs draped over his lap, her wine glass in hand as her laughter lit up the room.

The TV flickered in the background, playing American Pie, but the raunchy humor had long since become a backdrop to the magnetic pull between them. Her lips were stained the faintest shade of red from the wine, and every time she glanced up at him, he felt that familiar spark.

As the movie reached another ridiculous moment, Taylor laughed, throwing her head back, her curls bouncing as her shoulders shook with amusement. Travis couldn’t resist her—couldn’t stop himself from reaching out. His hand slid under the blanket, fingers skimming her bare thigh. The soft, warm feel of her skin sent a jolt through him, and he gave her a playful squeeze.

Her laughter faltered, replaced by a soft gasp. She glanced at him, her cheeks already tinged pink.

“Travis,” she murmured, her voice low but already breathier than before.

He smirked, leaning down so his lips brushed her ear. “What, sweetheart? You want me to stop?” His tone was teasing, knowing full well she didn’t.

Her hand shot out, clutching his forearm, her nails digging into his skin as her eyes locked with his. “You know I don’t,” she whispered, a quiet challenge laced in her voice.

His grin widened as he leaned closer, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her lips. It started sweet, soft, but it quickly deepened, the intensity rising as their breaths mingled. Her wine glass was forgotten as she looped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair.

Under the blanket, his hand moved higher, pushing her dress up inch by inch. He felt the heat of her skin, the shiver that ran through her as his fingers grazed the edge of her panties. “You’re already this hot for me?” he whispered against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Her hips shifted slightly, her silent way of urging him on, but she bit her lip, clearly remembering where they were.

“Travis,” she whispered, a warning in her tone, but when he slid a single finger under the fabric and brushed against her, the warning melted into a soft whimper.

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. “You’ve got to be quiet. Everyone’s still here. Can you do that for me?”

Her flushed cheeks deepened in color, but her wide, darkened eyes gave him the answer before she spoke. “I can. I promise. Scouts honor,” she teased, holding up the three-finger salute, a daring smile tugging at her lips.

His brow arched at her playfulness, but the challenge only spurred him on. “Scouts honor, huh?” he growled softly, his lips crashing back onto hers in a hungry kiss as he slid his large finger inside her. Her breath hitched, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he stretched her gently.

Her eyes widened when he slipped a second finger inside, moving them in slow, deliberate strokes. She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her quiet moan, but Travis didn’t miss it. “Good girl,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck, sucking lightly on the spot just beneath her ear.

The friction of his fingers moving inside her, paired with the thrill of doing this while surrounded by his friends, made her tremble. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck as she tried to stay quiet, but her soft whimpers escaped despite her efforts.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, though there was a hunger simmering just beneath the surface. “But you’ve got to keep it down, baby. Think you can do that?”

She nodded, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to stifle another gasp when his thumb found her most sensitive spot. Her thighs clenched around his hand as she rocked against him, her body growing more desperate with every stroke.

When he added a third finger, her head fell back against the couch, her eyes fluttering closed as her body arched toward him. The stretch was almost too much, but it was perfect, and the way he moved had her teetering on the edge.

“Travis,” she whimpered, barely audible as her grip on his shoulder tightened.

“Come for me, Tay,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “Come all over my fingers, baby. I’ve got you.”

With a soft, muffled cry, her body tensed, and she fell apart in his arms, her release washing over her in waves. Travis pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the sound of her moans as his fingers slowed, guiding her through her climax.

When her trembling finally subsided, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers as he withdrew his hand. His fingers glistened in the dim light, and he looked down at them with a mix of pride and awe before meeting her gaze.

“Perfect,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Her face burned, but she couldn’t help the shy smile that tugged at her lips as she whispered, “You’re terrible.”

“And you love it,” he teased, pulling her closer as the blanket shifted, concealing them from prying eyes.

---

The sounds of the party faded entirely as their kisses grew more fervent, the tension between them thick and undeniable. His hands roamed her body, each touch eliciting a shiver or a quiet sigh that she tried—and failed—to keep silent.

When Taylor’s friend Mia called out from across the room, “You planning to come up for air anytime soon? You’re like a pair of high schoolers,”’Taylor buried her face in Travis’s shoulder, laughing softly.
Travis glanced over, unbothered. “Mind your business,” he shot back, earning a chorus of laughter from his friends.
Taylor grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes still heavy-lidded with desire. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private,” she suggested, her voice low and suggestive.
Travis didn’t need to be told twice.

——

They barely made it to the bedroom, their movements frantic and clumsy in their desperation to touch one another. The door slammed shut behind them, rattling the walls, but neither cared. Travis pressed Taylor against it, his mouth crashing into hers with an intensity that bordered on wild.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and his hands roamed her body, gripping her thighs to lift her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, gasping as his hard length pressed against her in just the right spot.

“Travis,” she whimpered, her voice breaking with need.

“Say the word, Tay,” he growled, his lips brushing against her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to send shivers down her spine.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she shot back, her fingers clawing at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin.

He grinned wickedly, pulling back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before carrying her to the bed. They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, their mouths finding each other again in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth and desperation.

Taylor pushed at his jeans, her hands fumbling in her haste. “Off,” she demanded breathlessly, and Travis chuckled low in his throat, helping her shove them down his hips.

Once he was free, he turned his attention to her dress, pulling it over her head and leaving her bare beneath him. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze reverent and hungry.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe.

“Then stop looking and do something,” she teased, her cheeks flushed but her eyes blazing with challenge.

With a growl, he lowered his head, capturing her nipple in his mouth while his hand slipped between her thighs. She gasped, arching into him as his fingers found her slick heat.

“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned, sliding a finger inside her, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made her moan.

“Travis, please,” she begged, her hips lifting to meet his touch.

He didn’t make her wait. She cried out softly as he entered her, the stretch of him filling her completely. Their movements were frantic, their bodies colliding with a ferocity that bordered on primal.

As their pace quickened, the sounds of their passion grew louder—moans, gasps, the slap of skin against skin. It wasn’t long before their friends in the next room couldn’t ignore it.

“Holy hell,” someone muttered, the voice muffled but laced with amusement.

“They’re going hard,” another chimed in, chuckling.

“Do they even know we can hear them?”

Back in the bedroom, neither Travis nor Taylor cared. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she urged him on, her cries muffled against his mouth when he leaned down to kiss her again.

“Harder,” she whispered, her voice shaky but demanding, and he obliged, railing her recklessly.

Her release hit first, her body trembling and her walls tightening around him as she gasped his name. The sight of her falling apart beneath him pushed Travis over the edge. He buried himself deep inside her, groaning her name as his release claimed him.

When they finally stilled, their bodies still entwined, Taylor let out a breathless laugh. “Think they heard us?”

Travis grinned, brushing her hair back from her damp forehead. “If they didn’t, they’re deaf.”

From the other room, a loud, teasing whistle broke the quiet, making Taylor groan and hide her face against his chest.

“Worth it,” Travis murmured, kissing the top of her head as they both dissolved into laughter.

Flashback
May 2022
Travis Kelce paced the length of his living room, tension coiling in his muscles. Kayla Nicole stood by the kitchen island, an empty wine bottle nearby and a near empty glass in her hand, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt.
"Five years, Travis," she slurred, her voice rising. "Five years, and still no ring. What am I to you?"
He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Kayla, we've been over this. I never promised marriage. We agreed to take things as they come."
She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and grating. "Agreed? Or did I just go along with what you wanted, hoping you'd change your mind?"
Travis felt a pang of guilt but stood his ground. "I thought we were on the same page. We've broken up over this before, and you said you'd accepted my stance."
Kayla's face contorted with fury. "Accepted? You think I accepted being strung along, wasting my time? Do you really believe we make each other happy enough to be married?"
He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I care about you deeply, but I don't believe marriage is the right path for us. We have fundamental differences that can't be ignored."
Her eyes filled with tears, but her voice was icy. "Fine. If you won't commit, then we're done. But mark my words, you'll regret this decision."
She grabbed her purse, stumbling slightly as she headed for the door. "Go enjoy your freedom, Travis. But don't you dare let anyone else sleep in my bed."
The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing through the empty house. Travis stood there, a mixture of relief and sadness washing over him.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Ross, his closest friend. "Hey, man," he said when Ross picked up. "It's over. For good this time."
Ross's voice was calm, reassuring. "I'm on my way. We'll get through this together."

As he hung up, Travis felt a weight lift off his shoulders, replaced by a sense of freedom he hadn't felt in years.

——
Present Day
Travis watched Taylor sleep, her features soft and serene. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, and headed to the living room.
His friends were tidying up, exchanging knowing smirks.
"You guys act like crazy loved-up teenagers, it was so High School. Didn't know the walls were that thin," one teased.
Travis grinned, unabashed. "Jealous?"
"Of you or her?" another quipped, laughter following.
"Seriously though," Ross said, clapping a hand on Travis's shoulder. "We all love Taylor. She's good for you."
"I know," Travis replied, gratitude evident in his voice.

After bidding his friends goodbye, he returned to the bedroom, sliding back under the covers. He pressed a gentle kiss to Taylor's shoulder, causing her to stir and smile sleepily at him.
"Hi baby," she murmured.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering sincerity. "I'm going to marry you," he whispered.
Her smile widened, a peaceful acceptance in her gaze. "I know."
They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the promise of their future together settling comfortably around them.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV
December 2023

Taylor sat curled on the oversized couch in Blake and Ryan’s immaculate living room, nursing her third—or maybe fourth—glass of wine. The laughter from earlier in the night had faded into a strained quiet. Blake perched beside her, eyes darting between Taylor and Ryan, who stood by the bar, his expression pinched with concern.

Her birthday party was in a week, but the weight of Travis not being there loomed over her. She knew why—he’d be playing. It wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t even unreasonable. But her heart ached anyway.

“You okay, Tay?” Blake asked gently, her sharp eyes catching the flicker of sadness Taylor thought she was hiding.

“I’m fine,” Taylor said, waving off their worried looks, her voice sharp and defensive. But the tremor in her hand betrayed her as she brought the glass to her lips again and her eyes filled with tears.

Blake leaned closer, her hand gently covering Taylor’s. “Tay, you don’t seem fine. Talk to us.”

——-

Flashback – Nashville, December 13, 2010
Her 21st birthday had been a meticulously planned affair. The room glowed with fairy lights, the table adorned with roses and candles. Taylor stood at the center of it all, her red lipstick perfectly matching the satin dress she’d picked just for Jake.
But as the hours ticked by, the door stayed closed.
“Maybe he got held up,” Abigail had said, ever the optimist.
Taylor nodded, trying to cling to hope. But when the birthday cake was brought out, and her friends sang “Happy Birthday,” the hollow feeling in her chest grew unbearable.
Later, after everyone had left, her phone buzzed.
Jake.
She answered immediately, the hope in her voice betraying her. “Hey.”
“Sorry, I didn’t make it,” he said, his tone casual, like he’d missed a coffee date instead of her milestone birthday.
“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Things got hectic,” he replied vaguely.
Her heart broke, but anger bubbled to the surface. “Hectic? You couldn’t even call?”
“Taylor, I said I’m sorry,” he snapped. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”
“Because it is a big deal! You were supposed to be here!”
There was a pause, and then he scoffed. “God, you’re so immature. You think the world revolves around you and your little parties?”
Her breath hitched. “Jake…”
“What?” he said coldly. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry for not showing up to some over-the-top birthday thing? Grow up.”
Tears blurred her vision. “I thought…” Her voice faltered. “I thought I meant something to you. We…”
She couldn’t finish. The implication hung in the air—the nights spent together, the trust she’d given him.
“Taylor,” he said, his tone turning condescending, “don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that. It wasn’t some grand romantic moment, okay? It’s just sex. You’re acting like a child.”
Her hands trembled as she ended the call, the tears spilling over. She crumpled onto the couch, the weight of his words crushing her.

——-
Present

Taylor blinked back to the present, the memory hitting her like a freight train. Without warning, the tears she’d been holding in all night spilled over.
Blake was at her side instantly. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Ryan leaned forward, his joking demeanor replaced with concern. “Tay, talk to us.”
She shook her head, her voice breaking. “It’s stupid. Travis isn’t coming to my party, and I know he has a game, but I can’t stop thinking… what if he doesn’t care enough? What if I’m not enough?”
Blake pulled her into a hug. “Taylor, stop. He adores you. And not to name-drop, but Donna Kelce basically said she’s your biggest fan. His mom now loves you.”

Taylor let out a humorless laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “What’s there to say, Blake? I’m just a walking PR disaster waiting to happen. Let’s be real—I’ve built my entire life on love songs and heartbreak. And now? Now I’ve got someone who actually loves me, and I’m just sitting here waiting to ruin it.”

Ryan frowned, stepping forward. “Taylor, that’s not true—”

“Isn’t it?” she snapped, cutting him off. “I’m too much. Too clingy. Too dramatic. Too... everything. God, why can’t I just be *normal* for once?”

Blake’s grip on her hand tightened. “You’re not too much. You’re human. You feel things deeply—that’s your superpower, Tay. It’s why everyone loves you.”

Taylor snorted, shaking her head. “It’s why everyone leaves me. I suffocate people. I’m needy and desperate, and no matter how hard I try to hide it, it always comes out. Jake used to tell me I was exhausting, did you know that?”

Her voice cracked, and she tipped back the rest of her wine, reaching for the bottle to refill her glass. Ryan gently intercepted, taking the bottle from her.

“Maybe slow down a bit,” he suggested, his tone careful.

Taylor glared at him, snatching it back. “Don’t. Just... don’t.” She poured another glass, the liquid sloshing over the rim as her hands shook. “I don’t need another lecture about how I should take care of myself or love myself or go to therapy or whatever bullshit people say to make themselves feel better.”

“Tay,” Blake said softly, her voice laced with worry.

“I don’t even know why he’s with me,” Taylor continued, her voice rising. “Travis could have anyone—someone easy, someone fun. Not... this.” She gestured to herself, her red lipstick smudged, her hair a tangled mess.

Blake and Ryan exchanged a look, their concern palpable.

“You’re everything to him,” Blake said, her voice firm. “He adores you, Tay. Don’t do this to yourself.”

But Taylor couldn’t stop the spiral. Her thoughts raced, dark and unrelenting, like a storm she couldn’t outrun.

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, tears spilling over now. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re always one misstep away from being unlovable. To be so terrified of losing someone that you push them away first.”

Blake exchanged a look with Ryan across the room, the concern on both their faces unmistakable.

“You’re spiraling,” Blake said softly, her hand resting on Taylor’s arm.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Taylor snapped, pulling away. But the movement sent her off balance, and wine sloshed over the rim of her glass, staining the pristine white couch beneath her.

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the fabric, her hands trembling.
Blake took the glass from her, setting it aside. “Okay, that’s enough for now.”
“Don’t,” Taylor said, her voice cracking. “Don’t treat me like I’m some fragile little thing. I’m fine, Blake. Just... let me be fine.”

But her voice wavered, betraying the storm inside her.

Taylor was drunk. Not tipsy, not buzzed—drunk. Her vision blurred as she poured herself another glass of wine, her hand shaking as it hovered over the glass. Blake’s voice cut through the fog, sharp with concern.
“Tay, that’s enough. You’re going to regret this.”
Taylor let out a harsh, bitter laugh, tipping the glass back as though her life depended on it. “Regret? Blake, I already regret everything.”
Blake lunged for the bottle, but Taylor clutched it like a lifeline. “Don’t,” she slurred, her voice cracking. “Just stop. Stop trying to fix me. I don’t need saving.”
“You’re not broken,” Blake said softly, stepping closer, her expression a mix of worry and heartbreak.
Taylor shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yes, I am! Don’t you get it? I ruin everything. I push people away until they can’t stand the sight of me, and then I hate them for leaving. It’s all my fault. I’m... I’m a disaster.”
Blake exchanged a desperate glance with Ryan, who had been standing silently in the corner. “Call Travis,” she mouthed urgently. Ryan nodded and slipped out of the room, his phone already in hand.
Blake reached out to steady Taylor, who swayed on unsteady feet. “Tay, sit down. Please.”
But Taylor jerked back, her movements clumsy but defiant. “No! I need to go. I can’t... I can’t stay here. You don’t understand.” Her voice cracked, the vulnerability beneath her anger spilling out in waves.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” Ryan said, re-entering the room with a grim look on his face.
“Alone is what I deserve!” Taylor spat, her voice rising.

Blake stepped in front of her, her voice low but commanding. “You’re right, I don’t understand, Tay. Because all I see is someone who’s exhausted, hurting, and trying to drown it all instead of letting the people who love her help.”

Blake grabbed her arm, her voice low and firm. “Stop. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re going to regret this tomorrow.”

Taylor wrenched free, nearly stumbling as she did. “I don’t care about tomorrow! I don’t care about anything right now!” Her voice broke, and for a moment, the weight of her words hung heavy in the room. “Just let me go, “ she wailed.

Blake sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine,” she said, exchanging a resigned look with Ryan. Together, they helped Taylor toward the door, their concern radiating from every movement, security trailing behind.

As they reached the car, Blake stopped, her grip tightening on Taylor’s arm. “Promise me you’ll call someone when you get home. Travis, your mom, anyone. Just... don’t do this alone.”
Taylor’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded weakly. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured, though the words felt hollow even to her.

Blake and Ryan helped her into her car, their concern palpable.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, nearly stumbling over her own feet. “I just need to be alone. Please.”

---

Taylor’s Apartment – 11:30 p.m.

She was on the floor, an empty wine bottle beside her and another half-drunk one in her hand. The silence of her apartment was deafening, the weight of her thoughts crushing.

You’ll ruin it. You always do.

He’ll leave, just like the others.

Her phone buzzed on the table, but she didn’t move. She already knew who it was—Blake or Ryan, checking in. She couldn’t face them. Couldn’t face anyone.

By the time the second bottle was empty, she was sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking with each ragged breath. “Why am I like this?” she whispered to no one.

---

1:00 a.m.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t notice the shadow that filled the doorway.

“Taylor.”

Her head shot up, her eyes red and glassy. Travis stood there, his broad shoulders tense, his eyes filled with worry.

“Go away,” she croaked, trying to push herself up but failing.

He was by her side in an instant, kneeling on the floor. “Tay, what’s going on? Blake and Ryan called me—they’re worried sick, I flew here straight away.”

She tried to shove him away, but he didn’t budge. “Don’t look at me like this,” she sobbed. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to know what I’m really like. I’m needy, Travis. Clingy. Not cool. Not perfect. Just go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his hands steadying her. “I don’t care if you’re messy or clingy or whatever you think you are. I know exactly who you are, Taylor, and I’m *all in*. Do you hear me? I’m not leaving.”

Travis crouched down slowly, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her, his eyes soft and steady. “Tay, you don’t have to be cool for me. I’ve done cool. Cool didn’t laugh at my dumb jokes, or make me feel like I could do anything just by looking at me. Cool didn’t make me happy.”
Her head shook violently, her fingers digging into her scalp. “You don’t get it. You’ll leave. You’ll wake up one day and realize I’m too much. Everyone does.”
Travis moved closer, his voice firmer now. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Taylor. All of you. The messy, the clingy, the big feelings—you think I don’t know who you are? You think I don’t love exactly that?”
She sobbed harder, curling into herself, her hands flying up to cover her face. “No. You love the idea of me. The songs, the dresses, the... the perfect Taylor who doesn’t cry on the floor.”
“I love this Taylor,” he said, his voice breaking. He reached out gently, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. “The Taylor who feels too much, who cares too much, who loves too hard. I don’t want perfect. I want you.”
Her lip trembled, and she tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her.
“I’ve seen the real you,” he continued, his voice unwavering. “And guess what? I’m still here. I’m all in, Taylor. You already know. You don’t scare me.”
Her defenses shattered. She collapsed against him, her sobs muffled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, anchoring her in place as the storm inside her raged.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered brokenly.
“Don’t say that,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You deserve everything, Tay. Everything. And I’m going to spend my life proving that to you.”

---

The Next Morning

Taylor woke to the smell of coffee and a soft blanket draped over her. Her head pounded, but Travis was there, sitting beside her with a mug in hand.

“Rough night,” he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She groaned. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that.”

“I’m glad I did,” he said, pulling out the small velvet box. “I have your birthday present. I hope it’s ok to give it to you early.”

He opened it to reveal a stunning opal and blue topaz ring.

“The opal is my birthstone,” he began, his voice steady. “It’s resilient, just like us. And the blue topaz is yours—vibrant and full of light. Together, they’re everything I want us to be. This is my promise to you, Taylor. No matter where I am, I’m always with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude, of love.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He smiled, sliding the ring onto her finger. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

And that was the moment she knew.

Chapter Text

Travis POV

Mid December 2023

The FaceTime ringtone broke the quiet, echoing through the room. Taylor’s phone lit up on the coffee table. Matty Healy.

Travis frowned, picking it up and answering before he could think better of it.

The screen filled with Matty’s face—disheveled, sweaty, and pale under dim lighting. His pupils were blown wide, his movements jerky. He held a half-empty bottle of something in one hand, and his speech was immediate, erratic.

“Finally! Taylor,” he slurred, squinting. “Look, mate, I need a hookup. You got any of those blue ones left? The good shit? I’m dying over here.”

Travis blinked, his jaw clenching. “You’ve got the wrong Taylor, asshole.”

Matty’s glassy eyes widened in confusion before recognition set in. “Ohhh,” he drawled, his laugh sharp and unpleasant. “Big man Kelce. Shit, that’s awkward. Wrong Taylor, right. Guess I’ve had a few too many.”

Travis glared, his grip tightening on the phone. “What do you want, Healy?”

“Want?” Matty’s smirk turned mean, his words slurring together. “Nothin’. Just a happy accident. Gives me a chance to talk to *you*, though.” He leaned closer to the screen, his face almost filling it. “How’s life being half of America’s golden couple, huh? Bet it’s exhausting keeping up with her, though.”

“Don’t start,” Travis warned, his voice low, a dangerous edge cutting through his usual calm.

“Start what?” Matty sneered, leaning back with a smug grin. “Speaking the truth? Come on, Kelce, you know what she’s like. Beautiful? Sure, off the charts. But she’s crazy too—and not the fun kind. She’s the reason the hot-crazy matrix exists, and trust me, she’s maxed out on both. I couldn’t get away fast enough from her.” He took another sloppy swig of his drink, his grin twisting into something mean. “I’ll give her credit, though—best legs I’ve ever had wrapped around me. But the drama? The constant chaos?” He rolled his eyes. “Not worth it.”

Travis’s stomach twisted, his free hand curling into a fist. “You’re high. Shut your mouth before you say something you’ll regret.”

Matty laughed, unhinged and bitter. “Oh, I’m not regretting a thing. You ever wonder, Kelce? What your perfect princess said to me after she dumped Joe? I’ll tell you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, mocking. “‘Matty, I can’t stop thinking about you.’ Yeah, she said that. Admitted she’d been fantasizing about me while playing house with Joe. She was in my bed the next night. Bet the media would love to hear that.”

Travis’s chest burned, his fury barely contained. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Matty’s grin grew cruel. “Bet the world would have a field day if they knew how fast she came crawling to me.” Matty’s voice became even cruder, his words tumbling out with a drug-fueled slur. “You think she’s all perfect and pristine, don’t you? Your sweet little princess. But I know the truth. I know how she likes it. Bet she’s got you wrapped around her finger with those innocent eyes, but I’ll tell you something, mate—she’s a firecracker. The way her arse moves when you’re slamming into her from behind? Unreal. Don’t let her fool you—she’s wild. You think you’ve got Taylor but she’s just waiting for the next guy to—”

“Say her name again, and I swear to God, I’ll break your face,” Travis growled, his voice shaking with rage.

Matty waved a hand, unfazed. “Relax, mate. You’re acting like she’s some saint. Newsflash: she’s not. She’s a slut like the rest of them. Only difference is she’s got better PR. You really think you’re the last stop for her? Please.”

Travis didn’t answer. He hung up, slamming the phone down onto the coffee table, the veins in his arms bulging as he fought to control himself.

---
Flashback 2006

The hallways of Cleveland Heights High School buzzed with the usual chatter and chaos, but Travis’s focus was on his locker, rifling through it for his history textbook. He was halfway through when he heard a sharp, uncomfortable laugh coming from around the corner.

He froze, recognizing the voice instantly. It was Emily, the sweet girl from his English class who had spent hours helping him with his essays, never once making him feel stupid for asking for help. She didn’t laugh like that—not unless she was nervous.

Travis stepped around the corner, and his blood boiled at the sight before him. One of the guys from the football team, a senior who thought he was God’s gift to women, had Emily backed up against the lockers. His hand was braced beside her head, his body too close, while his other hand toyed with the strap of her backpack—and, to Travis’s horror, he was groping her breast, kneading it roughly through her shirt.

“Come on, Em,” the guy drawled. “You’re always so nice. You let me feel you up at the party on the weekend. Be nice to me for a little while.”
Emily shrank back, her face pale. “I-I don’t think so,” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

“Slut,” the guy hissed, pinching her nipple aggressively.

Travis didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, his fists clenching tightly, and shoved the guy hard enough to send him stumbling into the lockers.

“Back off,” Travis growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The guy straightened, glaring at him. “What the hell, Kelce? This isn’t your business.”

“It is now,” Travis said, stepping between him and Emily. His fists clenched at his sides. “She said no. You don’t get to ignore that.”

The guy sneered, but before he could say another word, Travis shoved the guy away and he hit the floor.

“Travis!” Emily gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

Travis turned to her, his expression softening. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, tears brimming in her eyes. “Y-yeah. Thank you.”

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. Travis was pulled into the principal’s office within the hour, and by the end of the day, he was officially suspended from the team for two weeks. His coach had been furious, his parents disappointed, but Travis hadn’t regretted it for a second.

“Was it worth it?” his coach had demanded during the lecture.

“Every damn second,” Travis had replied without hesitation.

Back in the present, the memory burned bright in his mind as he stared out the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Standing up for people—especially women—had always been second nature to him. And it always would be.

---
Present

When he turned, Taylor was standing in the doorway. She was pale, her eyes wide and glistening with tears.

“Trav?” she said, her voice trembling. “Who was that?”

Travis’s jaw clenched as he strode over to her, pulling her into his arms. “Nobody worth your time.”

She looked up at him, her voice soft but insistent. “It was Matty wasn’t it. What did he say?”

His chest tightened as he cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. “Nothing that matters. Nothing that’s true.”

Taylor stared at him for a long moment before burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Don’t,” Travis said firmly, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you dare apologize. That piece of shit doesn’t get to make you feel like this.”

She nodded weakly, her arms tightening around him.

Travis tightened his arms around Taylor, letting the tension in his body ebb away as her weight pressed against him. She was trembling slightly, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. He rested his chin on her head, breathing deeply to calm himself before speaking.

“He’s just trying to drag you down, Tay. Trying to make himself feel important because he knows he’s nothing without you.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her voice muffled against his chest. “Why does it still get to me? I shouldn’t care what someone like him thinks.”

“You don’t care,” Travis said firmly, pulling back enough to look her in the eyes. “It’s just that no one deserves to hear that kind of garbage, least of all you. And definitely not from some washed-up punk who can’t even keep his life together.”

Taylor let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her fingers brushing over his chest. “For defending me.”

Travis smirked, though the fire in his eyes still burned. “Defending you? I should’ve driven over there and introduced his face to my fist.”

Taylor’s lips twitched upward, her laugh soft but genuine this time. “I can’t have you going to jail, Trav. The media would have a field day.”

He shook his head, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek. “Don’t let his bullshit stick, alright? You’re too good for him, and everyone knows it.”

Taylor tilted her head into his palm, her tears drying as a sense of safety washed over her. “Sometimes I just feel like it’s never going to stop. No matter what I do, someone’s always got something awful to say.”

“It’s because you’re on top,” Travis said simply, his thumb brushing over her skin. “And people hate that they’ll never get there. They hate seeing someone shine like you do because it reminds them of how small they are.”

Her eyes searched his, her expression softening. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Just speaking the truth,” he said, his voice steady. “And the truth is, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Tay. No one else’s opinion matters—not Matty’s, not the media’s, no one’s.”

She leaned up on her toes, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was as much gratitude as it was love. When she pulled back, she gave him a small, teasing smile. “You’re going to spoil me with all this sweet-talking, you know.”

“Good,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You deserve it.”

As he held her, Travis made a silent vow: Matty Healy was going to regret every word he’d said. But for now, all that mattered was Taylor, and making sure she knew just how much she meant to him.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

Mid-December 2023

---

The hours blurred together, marked only by the searing, desperate rhythm of Taylor’s need for Travis. Since the call with Matty, her anxiety had coiled tight, a storm raging in her chest that no amount of reason could tame. The only relief was him—his touch, his body, his presence.

By the second day of their relentless coupling, Taylor’s world had narrowed to nothing but Travis. His weight, his heat, the way he moved inside her—it was all-consuming. She couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t stop the frantic clawing in her chest that begged for more.

“Say my name,” she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, her back arching as he pinned her to the bed.

“Taylor,” he growled, the sound thick and feral, like he’d lose himself if he didn’t give her everything. His thrusts were deep, unrelenting, each one forcing a cry from her lips that she couldn’t hold back even if she wanted to.

Her hands scrambled over his back, nails leaving red marks in their wake. “Harder,” she demanded, her voice trembling but insistent. “I need it harder.”

His control snapped. Travis’s hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider as he drove into her with an intensity that stole her breath. The headboard rattled against the wall, their gasps and moans filling the room, and still, she begged for more.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he growled against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he bit down softly, sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

“You have me,” she panted, her body trembling beneath him. “All of me. Just don’t stop.”

Her desperation pushed him further, his lips trailing down her chest to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her sensitive skin. She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as her body clenched around him.

The fire between them burned hotter, wilder, each touch, each kiss stoking the flames. Taylor’s world tilted, her cries becoming incoherent as she shattered around him, her nails raking down his back. But Travis didn’t stop—he couldn’t. He chased his own release, his movements rough and frantic, his breath ragged as he buried himself inside her.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice raw as he kissed her with a desperation that left them both trembling.

“Yes,” she gasped, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

By the end of second day, Taylor’s body began to protest. Her thighs trembled from exertion, her skin hypersensitive to every touch, and the ache between her legs turned sharper. But she didn’t want to stop. Even as her movements slowed, even as her breath hitched with something other than pleasure, she couldn’t let go of him.

Travis caught the wince that flickered across her face. He stilled instantly, pulling out, his weight shifting off her as his gaze searched hers. “Taylor,” he murmured, his voice thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her, shaky and unsure.

“Taylor,” he murmured, his voice softening as he stilled above her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She hesitated, her lips parting as though to answer, but the truth hung heavy between them.

“Yeah,” she lied, her voice shaky. “I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t convinced. His brows furrowed as he pulled back, his eyes scanning her face. Gently, he shifted lower, pressing soft kisses down her stomach and thighs. When his gaze fell on her reddened, swollen core, his stomach clenched with guilt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, his voice breaking. “Taylor, why didn’t you tell me?”

She flushed, turning her head away. “I didn’t want to stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I needed you.”

Travis sat back on his heels, his hands trembling as they hovered above her thighs. “You should’ve told me,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. “I never—God, Taylor, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she insisted, reaching for him. “It’s not like that. I wanted it. I wanted you.”

His jaw tightened as he shook his head. “That doesn’t make it okay. Baby, look at you. You’re hurt, and I didn’t even notice.”

She grabbed his hand, her fingers weaving through his. “I didn’t notice either, not really. You’re... bigger than anyone I’ve been with, and we’ve been going at it like teenagers. I just didn’t think it would matter.”

—-
Flashback November 2010

The memory of her first time with Jake hit her hard—the sensation of being beneath him, his rough hands moving without care, his focus solely on his own pleasure. The pain had been overwhelming, sharp, and relentless, but she hadn’t been able to speak up. Tears silently rolled down her face, mixing with the blood that stained the sheets beneath her, the harsh reality of her virginity torn away. As he chased his own orgasm, oblivious to the discomfort he was causing. When she finally told him how it had hurt, his response was dismissive, as if her pain didn’t matter. “It’s the first time, it’s always like that,” he had said, leaving her to bear the weight of the memory alone.

—-
Present
“I didn’t realise you’d care so much,” Taylor admitted carefully.

Travis’s face twisted in horror as he stared down at her, his voice sharp with disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I care?” he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he gently cupped her face. “Why the hell wouldn’t I care, Taylor?”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes filled with tears that refused to fall. “I don’t know. I didn’t realize... But I’ve never felt pain before like this. Not since my first time. It’s not something I’ve dealt with since then. None of my other exes—no one I’ve been with - was as big as you.”

Travis’s jaw clenched, the guilt flooding through him like a tidal wave. He pressed his lips together tightly, absorbing her words, his fingers brushing through her hair softly. “You should’ve told me,” he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. “You should’ve said something.”

“I didn’t want to stop,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “Not with you. I needed you too much.”

Travis exhaled deeply, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. “I’m going to take care of you,” he murmured. “Always.”

---

The weight of her words settled over him, his eyes dark with guilt. “Taylor,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the most important thing in my world. I can’t stand the thought of being the reason you’re in pain.”

Before she could respond, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his touch impossibly tender. “Stay here,” he said, rising to his feet.

When he returned, he carried a soft ice pack and a glass of water, along with a bottle of anti-inflammatories. He knelt beside the bed, his large hands careful as he adjusted the ice pack against her thigh.

“Take this,” he murmured, handing her the pills.

She obeyed silently, tears welling in her eyes as she watched him care for her. He was so gentle, so attentive, his brow furrowed with concentration as though she might break if he touched her too roughly.

When he was finished, he climbed back into bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. “We’re taking a break,” he said firmly, his lips brushing against her temple. “I’m not touching you down there until you’re healed.”

Taylor opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a soft kiss. “I mean it. I love you too much to risk hurting you again.”

Her throat tightened as she looked up at him, her heart aching at the love in his eyes. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

He smiled, his hand stroking her hair as he held her close. “Then let me take care of you,” he said softly. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

And for the first time in days, Taylor felt a soothing stillness settle over her. Wrapped in Travis’s arms, she allowed herself to relax, the steady beat of his heart grounding her. She had managed to chase her anxiety away this time, and in his embrace, peace enveloped her.

Chapter Text

Travis POV

Christmas Day 2023

Travis sat in the locker room, his helmet still perched on the bench beside him, the weight of the game hanging heavy on his shoulders. He hated losing, especially in front of his family and friends, but this loss stung a little more. He had played his heart out, but the Chiefs couldn’t clinch the win against the Raiders that Christmas Day.
He could hear the low murmur of teammates talking in the background, but his mind was far from the locker room. He was thinking of Taylor. She’d been there, as always, supporting him even in the face of defeat, but the disappointment still gnawed at him.
The fact that she was always there made the sting of the loss hurt a little less, but it didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t shake the feeling of letting everyone down.
As he walked toward the parking lot, still a little lost in his head, he spotted Taylor and her family standing by the exit, wrapped up in their holiday cheer. Taylor was grinning ear to ear, even though the game had ended in a loss. Even in such a casual, festive outfit, Taylor looked absolutely radiant. The red shirt she wore under her black jacket contrasted perfectly with the white and red of Austin’s Santa gear. She had a bright Santa hat on, one with Travis’s football number, 87, embroidered on it, and it made her look even more adorable. Travis couldn’t help but grin as he caught a glimpse of her, walking with a bounce in her step, looking every bit the star she was—inside and out.

Austin, dressed head to toe in Santa gear, was practically glowing, and their parents were already talking about how much fun they were going to have at the Christmas dinner.
For a brief moment, Travis felt a twinge of guilt. They were so excited, so ready to put the game behind them and focus on the holidays.

“You played your heart out, Travis!” Taylor’s dad, Scott, said with a wide grin, slapping him on the back as he walked over.
“Yeah! You’ve got Super Bowl potential, don’t let this one game get to you,” Austin added, his voice filled with the enthusiasm only a brother could have.
“Son, I’m proud of you,” his Dad added hugging him.

Travis couldn’t help but crack a smile despite himself. It was hard not to get caught up in their excitement. Their encouragement, the way they were all so invested in him—not just as a player, but as part of their family—reminded him why he loved being around them. Taylor’s presence, her infectious energy, had a way of lifting him up, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it.
“You’re gonna get it next time,” Andrea added warmly, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “We believe in you.”
Taylor pulled him into a hug, her voice sweet and soothing. “You were amazing out there. Don’t let this game get to you. We’ve got a lot to look forward to. We’ll get 'em next time.”

It felt like his whole world was filled with love and support, and it made the sting of the loss feel a little less sharp. It wasn’t about the game at that moment—it was about being surrounded by the people who cared about him, who believed in him no matter what.

—-

Flashback to Christmas 2021

Two days after Christmas, Travis stood in front of the mirror in his house, staring at his reflection. Despite the win, his chest felt heavy. He could see it in his own eyes—the disappointment. It wasn’t about the game or the numbers; it was about how he had felt on the field. He hadn’t played the way he wanted to, and no matter how hard he tried to shake it off, the feeling lingered.

Kayla Nicole was there, but the conversation they had wasn’t what he needed. Instead of comfort, he got a lecture. Instead of her offering a reassuring word, she stood in front of him, arms crossed, exasperated.

"Honestly, Travis," she began, her voice dripping with annoyance, "I don’t date a loser. You know how this works, right?"

His stomach dropped. Her words hit harder than they should have. He tried to explain his frustration, tried to let her in on how the game had left him feeling, but she wasn’t listening. She was more focused on how his performance reflected on her—how it made *her* look.

"You should’ve played better," she snapped. "It’s embarrassing. People are talking, and you need to get your head straight. It doesn’t matter if you won; you looked like shit out there. People are gonna think you can’t handle the pressure, and I can’t be with someone who’s always so... off."

He could feel the sting of her words even now, the way they sliced through him like a knife. The worst part? She wasn’t upset about the game; she was upset about how he might’ve looked to others. There was no room for vulnerability or imperfection in her world. He wasn’t allowed to have an off day, to be human, to feel like he was struggling. He was supposed to be flawless. And if he couldn’t be, then he wasn’t worth her time.

“I need someone who’s always on their game,” she continued, her tone icy and unforgiving. “You think I’m going to sit here and comfort you while you play like that? No. I’ve got better things to do than babysit a grown man who can’t even keep his shit together on the field.”

The words hit harder than they should have, sinking into him like a weight he couldn’t lift. She wasn’t upset about the game. She wasn’t upset about his performance. She was upset about how she looked by association. And that stung. The sting of realizing that he was never enough—not for her, not for anyone who only valued him as an athlete, a machine. There was no room for him to fail, to feel less than perfect, to need support.

As he stood there, listening to her rattle on, he felt the crushing weight of it all. He hadn’t even realized it until now, but he had been so focused on winning her approval, on showing her he was good enough for her, that he had forgotten to show up for himself.

In the end, it didn’t matter how much he tried to prove himself. She didn’t care about him. She only cared about the perfect image she projected, about how his success reflected on her, about how she looked when she was with him.

He had spent the entire Christmas season feeling more alone than he had ever felt, knowing the woman he was with couldn’t be the one to lift him up, to make him feel like he was enough—just the way he was. Not for the stats, not for the headlines, not for the wins.

That night, after the win that felt anything but victorious, Travis came home to an empty house. He sat down, staring at the lights on the tree, the sound of silence too loud in his ears. He could almost hear the echo of her words: “You need to be better.” He thought about how different things could’ve been. How he deserved someone who would see him for who he was—not just for the way he played the game.

——
Present

By the time they were back at Travis’s house after the game, it felt like a shift in the air. The disappointment from the loss had started to fade, replaced by the buzz of the holiday spirit. Taylor had worked her magic, convincing him that there was still so much to be thankful for.

Before the game, Taylor and her mother and brother had spent the entire morning in the kitchen, baking and preparing for the evening’s Christmas dinner. They had made sure everything was perfect, from the festive decorations to the delicious spread they’d been working on for hours. It was an unspoken agreement that Christmas would be special, no matter what the score was.

The house—his house, though they both knew it was now theirs—had a warmth about it now that felt real, not just from the festive décor but from the feeling of family and home. Taylor had made it a point to create that feeling, and it was clear that the evening was meant to be filled with love and joy. This wasn’t just any Christmas dinner—it was their first Christmas dinner as a couple.

Travis and Taylor had decided to host, something about it just feeling right. It wasn’t the biggest crowd, but it was the perfect mix of family and friends. Taylor’s parents, her brother Austin, his girlfriend, and Travis’s dad, Ed, had all gathered around the table. There was laughter, conversation, and the kind of joy that came from being together, no matter how things went on the field.

“Okay, can we talk about how great this Christmas dinner is?” Travis said, standing beside the table with his hand resting on his glass of wine, his voice full of admiration. “Austin really outdid himself with the turkey. This is borderline world-class.”

Austin looked up, raising a glass in acknowledgment. “I told you it was my secret recipe. But really, it’s all about the love, man,” he said, taking a bite and grinning like he had just won a Super Bowl.

Everyone laughed, and Travis couldn’t help but smile. He was still feeling the sting from the game earlier, but the atmosphere was so full of warmth that it was hard to stay down. Taylor had her arm around him, leaning in every now and then to whisper something sweet in his ear. Her touch was a constant reassurance, the kind that made him feel like everything was going to be okay.

As the night wore on, presents were exchanged, Taylor of course outdid herself with thoughtful and romantic gifts and his eyes lit up at the personal touch she’d added. Austin’s gift of the Little Giants VHS made him laugh—something about it brought him back to childhood, and he couldn’t help but feel like a kid again, just for a moment.

“You really outdid yourself, man,” Travis said, holding up the VHS. “What’s next, a Game Boy?”

“Maybe,” Austin teased. “But I’ll keep it vintage for now.”

The table was alive with conversation, from football to family stories. Travis and Taylor sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined, her hand resting comfortably on his knee. He didn’t need to look around to know that this was where he was supposed to be. Taylor’s presence was like a silent promise that everything, even the smallest moments, was exactly where it should be.

“Trav, seriously,” Taylor’s dad, Scott, said, leaning in. “You’re killing it out there. Don’t let one game get to you. The Super Bowl’s in the cards for you. We can feel it.”

Travis smiled, his chest swelling with appreciation. Taylor’s earlier words echoed in his mind: We’ve got a lot to look forward to. He didn’t need the Super Bowl to feel whole; this moment, with Taylor and their families, felt like his victory.

After dessert they all moved into the lounge room, Travis sat back in his favorite armchair, a glass of apple cider in his hand, as Taylor snuggled into his lap. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the world was quiet, snowflakes gently falling, but inside, it was all laughter and conversation, the kind that filled the spaces between heartbeats.

As the night continued, everyone was enjoying the cozy ambiance of the fire, having quiet conversations, but Travis couldn’t help but feel drawn to his beautiful girl Taylor. She smiled at him, her hand resting gently on his knee. Without thinking, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Just as their kiss deepened, a voice rang out from across the room.
“Guys, I told you—only under the mistletoe!” Austin said, holding the mistletoe above their heads with a mischievous grin.
Travis pulled back, chuckling as he looked up at the sprig of greenery dangling over them. "Guess we missed that memo."
Taylor, laughing, nudged him playfully. "Guess we’ll just have to follow the rules next time."

Ed, always quick with a joke, leaned back in his chair and said, "At this rate, if you two only kissed under the mistletoe, there'd be a worldwide shortage of it! I’d be investing in mistletoe stocks if I were you!"

The whole room erupted in laughter as Travis and Taylor exchanged amused glances. It was just one of those perfect, lighthearted moments—shared with family, surrounded by love, and full of joy.

Taylor took a sip of her cider, her smile soft as she leaned her head against Travis’s shoulder. "You know, I’ve been thinking about how different Christmas was when I was little," she said, her voice quiet and thoughtful. "We always spent it at the Christmas tree farm in Pennsylvania. My mom would make hot cocoa, and my dad would be out picking out the biggest tree he could find. It felt like a magical winter wonderland, with all the trees and the snow... just so cozy."

Travis smiled, thinking about his own childhood. "We were in Ohio, but it wasn’t too different," he said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Dad would always get us up early to go sledding down the hills, even when it was freezing. Then we’d come in for a big breakfast—just eggs, pancakes, all the things. We didn’t always have a tree-cutting experience like yours, but we made our own fun. Christmas at home, you know? Family, food, laughter. It was always special."

Taylor smiled, clearly fond of the memories. "Mom and I would bake and cook all morning. She’d get everything ready for the big meal. It was always so busy and full of love—like, she never wanted to let the day slip away without making sure everything was just perfect. That was always the best part of Christmas for me, besides the presents, of course."

"Sounds amazing," Travis said, his fingers gently tracing her arm. "I can’t imagine how great that must have felt, having everything so put together and cozy."

"Yeah, it was," Taylor said, her voice quiet. "And even though today didn’t go how we wanted with the game, I feel like... this year feels perfect. Being here with you, with your family... it’s all so warm and real."

Travis’s heart swelled, his love for her deeper than he ever thought possible. He looked at her, his voice low and sincere. "You’re my every wish come true, Tay," he said softly, the words coming from a place of honesty and raw affection.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Travis didn’t need anything else. He didn’t need a perfect game or a perfect record—he had what mattered most in his arms right now. Taylor.

As the fire flickered, they leaned in toward each other, the warmth of the room and the cider making everything feel like it had slowed down, just for them, kissing again. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They were here, in the soft glow of the firelight, and everything else could wait.

The night stretched on, and after everyone retired to their rooms, Travis and Taylor made their way to the bedroom, stopping to exchange more kisses under the mistletoe. They had shared a beautiful, unforgettable day with family, but now, it was just the two of them.

As they lay down together, Travis kissed her deeply, and they both knew, without needing words, that this was where they belonged. Taylor had always been his wish come true—more than he could ever explain. As the world outside faded away, and the room filled with only the sound of their breathing and the soft rustle of the sheets, Travis knew that this Christmas, despite the loss on the field, was the most perfect one of all.

And as they came together, everything around them seemed to disappear. The world outside was frozen in time, but inside, it was just them. Their connection was the most powerful thing in the universe, and in that moment, it was everything.

The last thing Travis heard before everything else faded away was the soft whisper of Taylor's voice: "I love you." And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had found his forever.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

December 31

Taylor woke up on New Year’s Eve with a pounding headache, a glass of water by her bedside, and Travis sitting at the edge of the bed, his concern softened by the smallest hint of amusement.
“You okay, baby?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. “How much did I have?”

“Enough to loudly announce at the party that you’d ‘personally fight anyone’ who even glanced at me sideways,” Travis said with a grin.
Her cheeks flamed as she pulled the blanket over her head. “Oh my god. Please tell me you’re joking.”

He chuckled, tugging the blanket down just enough to see her eyes. “I’m joking. Kind of. You were feisty though. But mostly adorable. Although... tequila might be banned for you now.”

As charming as Travis tried to make it all seem, Taylor couldn’t laugh along, her embarrassment cutting deeper than the antics he found cute. It wasn’t just the tequila -fueled declarations or her protective streak at the party—it was the argument that had erupted before they’d gone to sleep.

The fight from the night before came rushing back like a tidal wave.

——
The evening before

“I just need to know,” Taylor blurted, pacing the bedroom like a storm brewing over Kansas City. Her steps were frantic, her hair spilling out of its bun, and her cheeks flushed—not just from the tequila but from the tears streaming down them. “Were you talking to someone else when we first started? Were you even sure about me back then?”

Travis sat on the edge of the bed, his tie undone and shirt untucked, he looked up in surprise, “Tay, what are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air before pressing them to her face. Her mascara was smudged, and she sniffled loudly. “I overheard someone said something at the party about you liking other girls’ posts before we became official, and I—” She gulped, her voice wobbling not wanting to drop Pia’s name into this mess. “It made me feel like maybe you weren’t sure about me.”

Travis’s heart broke clean in half. He stood up, his brows furrowing as he crossed the room to her. “Baby, come here,” he said, reaching for her.

“No!” Taylor swatted at his hands, her tears falling faster now. “Don’t ‘baby’ me. Just tell me the truth. Did you talk to anyone else?”

Travis dropped his arms, exhaling a deep breath. His face was a mix of frustration and tenderness, his eyes locked on hers as if willing her to believe him. “Tay, I didn’t talk to anyone else. I swear. But yeah, I liked a couple of posts—some random, mindless stuff—after our first date. And yes, after our first time. But that was before you were my girlfriend. Before you stopped calling this ‘just for fun.’”

Taylor’s throat tightened as his words hit her, her emotions swirling. “Then why like their posts at all?” she asked, her voice cracking with vulnerability. “If you wanted me, Travis, why even—why even look at them? I wasn’t enough?”

His jaw tightened, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, visibly frustrated with himself. “Because I was a dumbass, alright? A guy stuck in old habits who didn’t realize how much it would hurt you. It didn’t mean anything. Not then, not now. No one else has ever even come close to what I feel for you.”

She crossed her arms, her hurt not entirely soothed. “You say that, but do you know how it feels to see something like that? To think I’m putting myself out there, risking everything, and you’re—”

Travis took a step closer, his hands on her shoulders, his voice firm but tender. “Tay, stop. Listen to me. I was falling for you then, even if you were still holding back, insisting it was casual. But I’ve been all in since day one. Yeah, I messed up liking some posts, but I didn’t talk to anyone else. Didn’t think about anyone else. It’s been you since that first night. I’d undo every stupid mistake I made if I could, but I can’t. What I can do is keep proving to you every single day that you’re it for me.”

Her gaze softened just slightly, but the vulnerability in her voice remained. “It hurt, Trav. It still does.”

He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears pooling in her eyes. “I know, baby, and I’m sorry. But you have to know—there’s no one else. There’s no comparison. You’re the only one I see. The only one I want. And I’ll keep saying it and showing you until you believe it.”

---

Her lip quivered, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest like she was trying to hold herself together. “But how am I supposed to trust that? I’ve been here before, Trav.” Her words slurred slightly, her voice cracking between phrases. “I’ve trusted people who said all the right things, and then they—” She broke off, her voice thick and wavering, as she wiped at her face. “They proved me wrong.” Her hand slipped, and she nearly missed her cheek, smearing mascara down her face in thick, clumsy streaks.

Travis stepped closer, he looked at her like she was the most precious, heartbreaking mess he’d ever seen, “Baby,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms despite her weak protests. She resisted for about half a second before collapsing against him, her face buried in his chest.

“I hate this,” she sobbed, her fists balling up in his shirt. “I hate feeling like this. I hate caring so much. I feel messy, and stupid, and—”

“Stop it,” Travis interrupted, his hands cradling her face as he tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “You’re not messy, and you’re definitely not stupid. You care because you love me, and you know what? I love that about you. I love you. Every single part of you—even the part that’s currently trying to ugly cry all over my favorite shirt.”

A watery laugh escaped her despite herself, and she sniffled loudly. “It is ugly crying, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely hideous,” he teased, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “But you? You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even with the raccoon eyes.”

She smacked his chest lightly, her laugh breaking into another sob. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

“And you’re doing great at it,” he said with a grin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But you’re also exhausted and a little tipsy, so maybe we table this argument until you’ve had some sleep?”

“I’m not letting you off the hook,” she muttered, though her voice was softer now.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, guiding her toward the bed. He eased her down gently, then crawled in beside her, pulling her into his arms like he’d never let her go.

As she started to cry again, her voice came out small and broken. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

His chest tightened, and he pressed a dozen kisses to her hair, her temple, her cheek. “Oh baby I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered fiercely. “Not tonight, not ever. You’re stuck with me, Tay.”

She sniffled, her breathing finally starting to slow as she melted into his embrace. “Promise?” She whisperered to herself Lana Del Ray’s lyrics she’d danced to earlier that night…

‘He holds me in his big arms
Drunk and I am seeing stars
This is all I think of’

“Promise,” he said, tucking her closer and brushing another kiss against her forehead. “I love you more than anything, Taylor. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

And as Taylor drifted off to sleep, Travis held her like she was his entire world—because she was.

—-
Flashback
Summer 2018

Taylor sat perched on the edge of the couch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The London house, which usually felt like a cozy retreat, now seemed suffocating, its walls pressing in on her. Across the room, Joe paced in frustration, his hand running repeatedly through his tousled blond hair.
“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” he said, his tone sharp with exasperation.
Taylor’s chest heaved with the weight of her emotions, her voice rising. “Because every time we go out, there’s some girl draped all over you! And you never seem to care. You never stop it!”
Joe turned to her, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “They’re co-workers, Taylor. Friends. Uni mates. People I work with. What do you want me to do? Be rude? Ignore them?”
She stood abruptly, the heat of her frustration pushing her off the couch. “No, I want you to set boundaries! To make it clear you’re not interested. Do you even realize how it looks? How every single girl in the room seems to want you?”
Joe let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous. They’re not throwing themselves at me, Taylor. You’re making this into something it’s not.”
Taylor’s voice trembled, both with anger and the ache of her insecurities. “Maybe you don’t see it, but I do. The way they lean in too close, touch your arm, laugh at things that aren’t even funny. And you just... let them.”

Joe stopped pacing, his frustration spilling over. “So now I’m supposed to feel guilty for being polite? This isn’t about them, Taylor. This is about you and your trust issues.”

Her jaw tightened, his words hitting too close to home. “Maybe I have trust issues because I’ve been cheated on before.”

Joe’s blue eyes hardened, his voice cutting through the tension. “And maybe I’m tired of paying for other people’s mistakes! I’ve never cheated on you, Taylor. Never. And you know that.”
Her chest constricted, his words twisting inside her. She dropped her gaze to the floor, her voice barely a whisper. “But you have cheated on a girlfriend before.”
Joe froze, his face clouding over. His expression turned cold. “I’m not the one who’s jumped into something new before things were properly over. I’ve overlooked how messy things were with Tom and Calvin when we first got together. Do you want me to throw that in your face?”

Taylor’s chest tightened, his words cutting through her. “I can’t believe you’d say that.”

“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Joe shot back, his voice hard. “You’re acting like I’m the villain when all I’ve done is try to love you. But you overthink everything, Taylor. And it’s exhausting.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over. “I’m sorry I’m so exhausting,” she choked out.
Joe sighed, his frustration softening slightly. “Look darling, I didn’t mean it like that. But you’ve got to stop projecting your insecurities onto me.”

The argument still hung heavy in the air as they stood there, each trying to navigate the space between them. Joe, his voice low but firm, finally broke the silence.

“It’s all in your head, Taylor,” he said, shaking his head. “Me flirting with other women? I never did that. You’ve got this idea in your mind that I’m out there doing something I’m not. It’s not me, and you need to stop letting your past mess with us.”

Taylor’s chest tightened. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that had been building inside her, the old fears creeping in. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s all me. I let my past make me think things that weren’t true. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Joe’s expression softened, but there was still a weight in his eyes. “I get it. You’ve been hurt before, but you need to trust me. I’m not them, Taylor.”

“I know," she replied, taking a shaky breath. "I just... I just don’t want to lose you. And sometimes, I get scared.” She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that."

The words between them hung in the air, not enough to heal the hurt, but enough to crack the tension. She was still trying to make sense of the chaos inside her, the mistakes she made, and the fear of losing something that felt so right. Yet, all she could do was hope they could rebuild, and that it wouldn’t all fall apart like it had with so many others before.

——

Present

Taylor sat at the kitchen island, her hands curled around the steaming mug of coffee Travis had just placed in front of her. The sunlight streaming through the windows felt almost too bright, her head pounding faintly from the night before.

Travis leaned against the counter across from her, his expression soft but serious. “Tay,” he started, breaking the silence.

She looked up at him, her eyes still a little puffy from crying the night before. “Yeah?”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I just... I need to say I’m sorry.”

Her brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For those likes,” he said, his voice quiet. “I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid and thoughtless. If I’d known it would hurt you—hell, if I’d even realized how it might look—I wouldn’t have done it. I hate that I embarrassed you or made you doubt how much I care about you.”

Taylor’s chest tightened at his words, guilt creeping in. She reached across the counter, her fingers brushing his. “Trav I overreacted, and I’m so sorry for that. It’s not about the likes. It’s about me being... me. I let all those old insecurities get to me. It’s all me.”

He stepped closer, taking her hand fully in his. “No. No Tay, it’s not all you. You don’t have to apologize, babe. I get why you felt that way. I just hate that I gave you even the smallest reason to feel unsure about us. That’s my fault, and I’ll carry that. I just need you to know—I’ve never been more sure about anyone in my life. Ever.”

Taylor’s lips curved into a soft, grateful smile. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And for the record, I don’t want you feeling bad about something so small. You’ve been nothing but good to me.”

Travis brought her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I just want to be better for you. You deserve that.”

“And I want to be better for you,” she said earnestly. “Because you don’t deserve drunk, irrational Taylor accusing you of things you didn’t do.”

He laughed lightly, his grin breaking through the tension. “Drunk Taylor’s kinda cute, though. Fiery, but cute.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile grew. “I’ll try to keep her from picking fights with you next time.”

“Deal,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “Now I’ve gotta head to the game, but just know—every play, every yard, it’s for you.” He lingered for a moment, his hand trailing down her arm. “And after we win, I’ll be the guy kissing you at midnight at the New Year’s Eve party. That’s the real prize, anyway.” With a quick squeeze, he was gone.

---

The air at the New Year’s Eve party buzzed with energy, a heady mix of celebration and anticipation. The glow of the victory from earlier still lingered in Travis’s grin, and Taylor couldn’t help but mirror it every time their eyes met. His hand never left her, whether it was resting on her lower back or tangling with hers, his touch a constant reassurance that she was his focus, no matter how crowded the room.

The countdown to midnight was approaching, but for Taylor, time already felt suspended. Every time Travis leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured a joke or shared an observation about the party, her pulse quickened. His nearness was intoxicating, the energy between them electric and undeniable.

“Having fun, baby?” Travis asked, his voice low and rich, the kind of tone that sent a shiver racing down her spine.

Taylor tilted her head up to look at him, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

His grin widened, his thumb brushing along her knuckles. “Good. Because I’m having the time of my life.”

As the final seconds of the year ticked down, the room’s noise crescendoed. Travis turned to her, his gaze locking on hers, the world around them fading into a blur. The intensity in his eyes made her knees weak, a silent promise of everything he felt and everything he wanted to give her.

“You ready for 2024?” he asked, his hand sliding to her waist, pulling her even closer.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she rested her palms against his broad shoulders. “I think so. Are you?”

“I’m ready for you,” he said, his voice a husky murmur meant just for her.

The heat between them felt almost tangible, and Taylor’s breath hitched as his fingers traced small circles at her hip. She was acutely aware of the space between them—so small yet so charged. Her lips parted as her gaze dipped to his mouth, and before she could overthink it, Travis leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

It was slow and deep, a claiming that sent fireworks through her entire body. The cheers and laughter around them became distant noise, eclipsed by the warmth of his lips and the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling as if they were sharing the same air. Taylor’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck, the words spilling out of her in a whisper. “Let’s leave everything else behind—the doubts, the fears, the past. Let’s just focus on us.”

Travis’s hands tightened on her waist, his voice steady and certain. “Done. Just you and me, Tay. Nothing else matters.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with a mix of love and exhilaration. “Happy New Year, Trav.”

“Happy New Year, baby,” he murmured back, kissing her again as if sealing their promise with every ounce of his devotion as the music played her favourite Lana Del Ray song in the background summing up her feelings perfectly ….

It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you wanna do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
And, baby, now you do

Chapter Text

Travis’s POV

January 28 2024

The roar of the Arrowhead crowd was deafening, people screaming, as confetti rained down in a sea of red and gold. Travis stood on the field, helmet in hand, trying to catch his breath. The Chiefs were heading to the Super Bowl, and his heart pounded with adrenaline and pride. But amid the chaos, his eyes searched for one person—Taylor.

And then he saw her, weaving through the crowd with a mix of awe and determination. She was bundled in a Chiefs jacket that was far too big for her, her cheeks flushed from the cold. His heart leapt at the sight of her.

“Taylor!” he called, running toward her. She looked up, her face breaking into the kind of smile that could stop time.

“Travis!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck the moment he reached her. He lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a circle.

“How about that one, huh?” he asked, breathless, his voice tinged with disbelief and pride.

“That was insane!” she exclaimed, pulling back to look at him, her hands gripping his jersey. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen you like that.”

He grinned, his chest swelling with pride. “What’s up, sweetie?” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad?” she repeated, laughing through the tears that had started to well in her eyes. “You were unbelievable.”

Her words hit him square in the chest, more powerful than any tackle he’d taken on the field.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice low but fierce. “I love you. So much it’s not funny.”

Taylor placed her hand over her mouth, visibly moved. Her whispered response made him feel what to kiss her again and again, “I’ve never been so proud of someone in my life, ever,” and her arms around him tightened, and that was enough for him.

“Tay, I’m gonna enjoy with the guys for a bit,” he said, leaning in for one last kiss. “I love you.”

---

Flashback: 2018

Travis sat alone in the locker room, the echoes of celebration bouncing off the walls around him. The Chiefs had just pulled off a nail-biting win, and Arrowhead had roared with energy. He should’ve been elated, basking in the glory of the victory. Instead, there was a hollow ache in his chest that no amount of cheers could fill.

His phone buzzed in his bag. He sighed and pulled it out, greeted by a flood of Instagram tags. At the top of the pile was Kayla’s latest post: a glossy, perfectly staged video.

The caption read: *“My boyfriend really should’ve called me after that game… Hmmm ok, Travis.”*

He watched the video—Kayla flipping her hair, pouting, tagging him repeatedly. The comments below it made his stomach churn: *“She’s gorgeous!”* *“What’s she wearing?”* *“Are they still together?!”* Then all the people tagging him @killatrav call your girl @killatrav put a ring on her @killatrav don’t fumble the bag marry that girl

Travis locked his phone and dropped it onto the bench beside him. He didn’t want to admit how much it stung. How often it felt like his world—the blood, sweat, and tears he poured into this sport—was reduced to a prop for her feed.

The noise of the locker room celebrations felt suffocating. Quietly, he grabbed his bag and slipped out, unnoticed.

---

Later that night, Travis sat in his darkened living room, the soft glow of the TV illuminating his face. A half-empty beer rested on the table beside him. His phone buzzed again.

It was a text from his dad:

‘Son, saw the game. You were incredible out there. Proud of you. Also… you seen this?’

Attached was a screenshot of Kayla’s Instagram post.

Travis clenched his jaw, staring at the screen. The pang of frustration and embarrassment hit him hard.

Then, his phone buzzed again—a call from his dad.

“Hey, Pops,” Travis answered, his voice weary.

“Travis,” his dad began, calm but firm, “you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Travis said quickly, though even he could hear the frustration in his tone.

His dad hesitated before continuing, “I saw that post, son. I’ve gotta ask—does she even know you? The real you?”

The question cut deeper than Travis expected. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” his dad replied carefully, “a partner’s supposed to make you feel bigger than yourself, not smaller. From where I’m sitting, she seems more interested in what you do for her than who you really are.”

Travis leaned back, the words hitting him like a blindside tackle.

“I’ve been feeling the same thing,” he admitted quietly, more to himself than his dad.

“Then you already know what to do,” his dad said. “Look, son, if you can’t picture her on hour wedding day, or heck beside you ten years from now—through the losses, the injuries, the days when you’re not winning—then what are you holding onto?”

After the call ended, Travis sat in silence, staring at his phone. He scrolled back to Kayla’s post, his thumb hovering over the screen before locking it again.

Kayla wasn’t a bad person. He knew that. But she wasn’t his person. Deep down, he knew she wouldn’t be the one he’d want standing beside him when the cheers faded, when the lights dimmed.

For the first time, he let himself imagine someone who would. Someone who cared about him—not the player, not the fame, but him. Someone who felt like home.

He wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet, but he knew there would be a time to walk away from her and the facade they’d both been clinging to. He would have to pack his bags and go—before either of them wasted any more time.

---
Present

Later that night, the after-party was in full swing. Music blared from the speakers, laughter echoed through the room, but none of it mattered to Travis. His entire focus was on Taylor.

She was at his side, laughing at something someone said, her smile lighting up the dim room, and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. His arm was draped over her shoulder one moment, his hand on her waist the next. He wasn’t even trying to play it cool—he didn’t care who noticed.

Every time she shifted even slightly away, his fingers found hers, tugging her back toward him. He leaned down to whisper something in her ear—though he barely remembered what he said, lost in the sound of her laughter and the way her perfume wrapped around him.

“You’re clingy tonight,” Taylor teased, her eyes sparkling as she glanced up at him.

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His lips brushed her temple, then her cheek, and before he could stop himself, he kissed her again—soft, lingering, as if the world might end if he didn’t.

“Travis,” she said softly, her tone teasing but warm, “there are people watching.”

“Let them,” he murmured, his hand tightening at her waist. “I don’t care.”

And he didn’t. The music, the laughter, the crowd—it all blurred into the background. All he could focus on was her, the way she fit so perfectly against him, the way her lips curved into that smile that drove him crazy.

He was a man utterly undone, and he didn’t care who saw it.

His dad noticed. He had been watching from a distance, but as the night wore on, he pulled Travis aside near the back of the room, away from the hustle and bustle. Jason and Taylor continued to dance and laugh hysterically together as Travis took a moment with his Dad.

“You okay, son?” his dad asked, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Travis turned to look at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah, I’m good, Pops. Just... taking it all in.”

His dad nodded, but then a slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve gotta say, Trav. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

Travis felt his chest tighten, and though he wanted to brush it off, his dad’s words hit him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I mean it,” his dad continued, his gaze turning toward Taylor. “The way she’s been with you tonight, supporting you, just... being there for you. I’ve never seen you this content.”

Travis couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling. He hadn’t realized how much his dad had been watching, but he was right. Taylor’s support wasn’t just about being there in the big moments. It was about being there through everything—through every high and low, every challenge and victory.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Pops,” Travis said, his voice steady.

His dad’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know, son. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, not just the name on your jersey.”

Travis swallowed hard. The words his dad had said to him earlier, back when he’d been dealing with Kayla, echoed in his mind: Does she even know you? The real you? He’d never thought about it like that before. But with Taylor, it was different. She saw him—the real him.

“I’ve never been more sure, Dad,” he repeated, looking his father in the eye. “She’s the one. She’s everything.”

His dad smiled, his eyes soft with pride. “I’m glad to hear that, Trav. I really am.”

---

As Travis stood there, the weight of his dad’s words settling in, he felt a deep sense of peace. Everything he’d ever wanted—everything he’d been searching for—was standing right in front of him. And for the first time in his life, he knew it wasn’t about just the victories on the field. It was about finding someone who truly understood him, someone who loved him not for what he could do, but for who he was.

Travis stood at the center of the after-party, the noise of the crowd around him slowly fading into the background as his thoughts raced. He’d just lived a moment that felt too good to be true—a moment that felt like it had been written in some cosmic playbook. He’d heard the cheers, seen the confetti, felt the pride of his team’s victory, but none of it compared to the way Taylor made him feel tonight. She was there with him, not because of who he was or what he did, but because of who he was when he was with her.

His dad’s words from earlier echoed in his mind: “I’ve never seen you this happy, son.” There was truth in that. Travis hadn’t felt like this in so long, maybe ever. Not with anyone. Not the way he felt with Taylor. And something in him told him that this was it—that they were something rare, something extraordinary.

The moment had come together in a way he couldn't explain. It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the game or the rush of the celebration. It was the quiet, the connection—the way Taylor looked at him when she smiled. She made him feel seen in a way that no one ever had, as though all the noise of the world didn’t matter, because they understood each other in a way that was beyond words. It felt like they were in sync with something greater than themselves.

The night had shifted something in him. This wasn’t just about football anymore; this wasn’t about the cheers from the crowd or the victories. It was about *them*—about her. Her presence had brought a peace he didn’t know he needed, a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized was missing. Every step, every glance, every word they exchanged felt like it had been written just for them.

Taylor was different. She was his home in a way he couldn’t put into words. It wasn’t the easy thing, the obvious thing, but it was the real thing. He’d been chasing something for so long, something to fill the emptiness he couldn’t explain. And now, with her, everything felt right.

As Travis moved toward her, their eyes met, and he felt the pull—stronger than ever. He didn't need to say it out loud. She could feel it too. In a room full of noise, full of distractions, they had each other.

I love you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I adore you.”
Taylor blinked, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered, “I love you too.”
And then he kissed her.
It started tender, his lips brushing against hers, but the electricity between them ignited like a spark catching fire. Taylor clung to him, her fingers tangling in the damp hair at the nape of his neck. Travis pressed closer, one hand slipping down to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.
The faint sound of “Cornelia Street” drifted from the speakers nearby, adding a surreal quality to the moment. The lyrics echoed in his mind: “And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends…” It was as though the song had been written for them—for this exact moment.
Her lips parted, and the kiss deepened, becoming hungrier, more urgent. There was something about the adrenaline of the win, the sheer intensity of the moment, that made everything sharper. Her taste, her warmth, the way she fit against him—it was all-consuming.
For a moment, they were the only two people in the world. His hands moved to her waist, holding her firmly as their mouths collided again and again. She whimpered softly against his lips, and it sent a jolt through him, his grip on her tightening.
“Travis,” she murmured against his mouth, her voice trembling, “you’re incredible.”
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding in sync. “You make me incredible,” he whispered. “You’re everything.”
She smiled, her fingers trailing along his jaw as her eyes searched his. “You don’t even realize how much you deserve this. All of it.”

He kissed her again, slow and deliberate this time, savoring every second. It was a promise, a declaration, and an unspoken understanding all rolled into one.

Chapter Text

Love Story

February 2024

Taylor’s POV

Taylor stood in the stands, her heart racing as she watched Travis take the field. It was surreal. Flying in from Japan late last night she’d spent the day sick with nerves, her friends trying to distract her.

She had followed his journey all season, watching him rise to the top, but nothing compared to this. The Super Bowl—the biggest stage of them all. The lights, the energy, the roaring crowd—it was all so overwhelming. But in the midst of it all, her focus was on him. She couldn’t take her eyes off Travis, her heart swelling with pride and excitement. He was her prince, and she had been waiting for this moment, holding onto faith even when the distance between them made it difficult. But love—real love—always found a way.

The season had been incredible. From the first game to the last, Taylor had watched from the sidelines, either at the games or on TV, always cheering for him, always supporting him. Christmas had been spent with her family watching him play. Now, standing here, watching him play in the biggest game of his life, the nerves were almost unbearable.

Her Mom, Blake and Ice Spice were by her side, fully invested in the game, but Taylor’s attention was solely on Travis. Every play he made sent a surge of energy through her. The way he moved, the way he led his team—it was nothing short of amazing. She couldn’t help but feel proud, like she had been a part of this journey every step of the way. The intensity of the moment was palpable, and with every passing minute, her anticipation grew.

When the final whistle blew and the Kansas City Chiefs secured the victory, Taylor could hardly believe it. The stadium erupted in cheers, but all she could hear was the thudding of her own heart. And when her eyes landed on him, her breath caught in her throat. He was smiling, his face lit up with pure joy, and Taylor could feel her heart swell with emotion.

Taylor made the way to the field with his mother and brother, her eyes stayed fixed on Travis as he made his way through the sea of reporters and teammates. The celebration around them was loud and chaotic, but it felt like the whole world had melted away. She had always been proud of him, but now, seeing him on top of the world, it was overwhelming in the best way.

I’ve never been so proud of anyone, ever,” she said softly, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his strength and warmth as he pulled her close, breathing her in.

Travis grinned, his hands threading through her hair as he kissed her with an intensity that matched the moment. “Thank you for being here baby, thank you for making it half way across the world. I love you so much, it’s not even funny,” he murmured against her lips.

Taylor’s heart fluttered as she pulled back, smiling up at him. “I love you too. You did it. You really did it.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The noise of the stadium, the flashing lights, the reporters—it all faded away. It was just her and him, together, celebrating this monumental achievement.

Travis pulled her into another kiss, his lips warm and tender against hers. “You make everything feel better, Tay. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you,” he whispered, his hands holding her face gently.

Taylor felt her chest swell with emotion. “You’re my hero,” she whispered back, unable to stop the tears that welled up in her eyes.

It wasn’t just about the win; it was about everything they had been through to get to this moment. She had supported him every step of the way, and now here they were, on top of the world. Just like the story she’d been writing her whole life—only this time, it wasn’t just a fairytale. It was real. Their love story.

——

The afterparty was in full swing when they finally made their way inside. The champagne flowed freely, and everyone was celebrating The Chief’s incredible victory. Taylor felt a mixture of joy and disbelief. It was one of the biggest nights of his life, and she was there, right by his side, sharing in the moment.

As the music played, a remix of Taylor’s own song, “Love Story,” began to fill the room. Taylor couldn’t help but laugh when she saw Travis across the crowd, his eyes meeting hers. The playful smirk on his face was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

He pointed at her from across the room, and Taylor grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. She pointed back, teasing him with a wink. For a brief moment, it was just the two of them, locked in their own little world amidst the chaos of the party. She loved that he could make her feel like that—like she was the only one in the room.

Later, as Taylor spoke with Mari from The Chainsmokers, she couldn’t help but smile when she thought back to that moment. “That was the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said, still giddy from the playful exchange.

Blake raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Come on, Taylor—mega extrovert Taylor, especially drunk Taylor, is absolutely going to find her extrovert man singing her song to her while he himself is drunk *extremely* romantic.”

And she was right. There was something about the spontaneity of it, the way Travis had made the moment entirely about her. He had just won the biggest game of his career, but he was still thinking about her, still showing her love in his own unique way.

It was exactly that kind of spontaneous, wild, beautiful moment that Taylor loved about their relationship.

——

Flashback – October 2008

Eighteen year old Taylor had always believed in love.

She believed in the kind of love that made you sneak out just to steal a moment, the kind that felt bigger than rules and logic. She believed in love that defied the odds, where the girl and the boy fought for each other, not against. She had written about it, sung about it, dreamed about it.

And she had believed—naïvely, foolishly, wholeheartedly—that Joe Jonas might just be it.

That belief shattered in twenty-seven seconds.

The phone call came late, just as the weight in Taylor’s chest had started to feel unbearable. She’d been sitting on her bedroom floor, her guitar beside her, fingers tracing absent patterns against the wood. Something had felt off for days—Joe’s texts had been shorter, his voice quieter when they talked. She’d tried to ignore it, to tell herself she was overthinking, but deep down, she’d known.

The moment she saw his name, her heart stuttered. Something was wrong.

She answered anyway, forcing a smile into her voice. “Hey, Joe.”

“Hey, Taylor.” Flat. Distant. Already gone.

Her stomach twisted. “What’s going on?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“We need to break up.”

The words crashed over her, knocking the air from her lungs. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady the sudden, violent shaking in her body.

“What? Why?” The word came out as a whisper, small and broken.

“It’s just—” He sighed, as if this was exhausting for him. “You’re too much, Taylor. You’re always so intense. I can’t breathe.”

Her breath hitched. The walls of her room blurred. “I don’t understand. I thought you liked how I was.”

“I did.” The softness in his voice almost made it worse. “At first.”

It felt like a knife to the gut. Like everything she had believed in had been a lie.

She gripped the phone tighter, desperation creeping in. “Joe, please. If I did something wrong, just tell me. I’ll fix it.”

Another sigh. “Taylor—”

“No, please.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. She was willing to fight, to do whatever it took. Because love was supposed to be worth fighting for.

But he didn’t fight for her.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, voice sharp now, like a clean break.

The world tilted.

“Joe, don’t—”

“Goodbye, Taylor.”

Click.

She stared at the screen, frozen, the words Call Ended burning into her brain.

Twenty-seven seconds.

That was all it took to go from love to nothing at all.

A choked sob ripped from her throat, and then the tears came fast and heavy, her whole body curling in on itself. This wasn’t how love was supposed to go. Love wasn’t supposed to leave you gasping for air, abandoned in the wreckage.

She pressed the phone to her ear again, as if somehow, that could bring him back. As if somehow, she could undo the last twenty-seven seconds.

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Please don’t go.”

But the line was already dead.

—-

Present Time

When they finally made it back to the hotel, the noise and excitement of the night seemed to fade into the background. The roar of the stadium, the flashing lights, the chaos—it all melted away, leaving just the two of them. All Taylor could hear now was the sound of their breathing, the steady rhythm of their hearts, and the way Travis pulled her into his arms as soon as the door clicked shut behind them.

She barely had a second to process before his lips were on hers, urgent and claiming, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. Maybe longer. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, his body heat wrapping around her like a promise.

“I still can’t believe it,” Taylor whispered when they finally came up for air, her hands resting on his chest. His broad frame towered over her, his muscles still tense from the adrenaline of the game. He was on top of the world, but the way he looked at her now—it was something deeper. Something raw.

Travis grinned, his forehead resting against hers. “Believe it, baby. I did it for you.”

Her breath caught. She tilted her chin up, fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. “For me?” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

His grip tightened on her hips. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Every moment I was on that field, all I could think about was you. What it would feel like to hold you after I won. To see your face, knowing you were proud of me. You’re all I ever think about, Taylor.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the sheer intensity of his words. She could feel it in the way he touched her, the way his body hummed with restless energy, needing her just as much as she needed him.

“Travis,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shirt like she needed him to anchor her in the moment.

He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring it, like he wanted to memorize the way she tasted, the way she melted into him. The tension crackled between them, electric and undeniable.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he murmured against her lips, his hands roaming lower, tracing over her dress. “I think about you all the time. About how you make me feel, how you’ve changed everything. I wanted to win so I could show you how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”

Her chest tightened with emotion, overwhelmed by the way he worshipped her—not just with words, but with every kiss, every touch. She could feel the hunger in him, the need, but there was reverence too. A devotion so deep, it stole the air from her lungs.

He reached for the zipper of her dress, pulling it down in one slow, deliberate motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her bare under his heated gaze. His hands skimmed her sides, his touch firm and reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of her.

“Perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.

Taylor let out a shaky breath as she reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head. Her fingers traced over the hard planes of his chest, the scars on his skin. He was beautiful—strong and solid, hers in a way that sent a thrill through her veins.

She sank to her knees before him, her fingers trailing over the waistband of his pants before tugging them down. His arousal was evident, and the way his breath hitched when she wrapped her fingers around him sent a surge of confidence through her. She pressed a teasing kiss along his length, reveling in the way he groaned, his hand instinctively tangling in her hair.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

She smiled against his skin before taking him into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the sensitive tip before sliding down his length. His grip tightened, his body tensing as she set a slow, deliberate pace. The sounds he made—deep, helpless groans—only spurred her on. She loved the way he unraveled for her, the way he lost control under her touch.

“Jesus, Taylor,” he gasped, his thighs trembling. “I can’t, you’ve got to stop—”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her lips curling into a smirk. “I want you to fall apart for me.”

His response was immediate. With a low growl, he pulled her up, his mouth crashing against hers in a desperate kiss. He guided her toward the bed, his hands firm but tender as he positioned her just how he wanted—straddling him, her thighs framing his hips as he leaned back against the pillows.

She felt his hardness pressing against her, teasing her entrance as she rocked against him, drawing out a deep groan. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

“Take me,” he urged, his hands gripping her hips. “I want to watch you.”

Taylor bit her lip as she slowly sank down onto him, her head falling back as pleasure surged through her. He filled her completely, the stretch delicious and perfect. She took a moment to savor it, to adjust, before rolling her hips in a slow, teasing motion.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Travis groaned, his fingers digging into her hips, guiding her movements. “You feel so good, baby.”

She set a steady rhythm, her hands braced against his chest as she rode him, taking him deeper with each movement. The way he watched her, his eyes dark and full of heat, sent shivers through her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing up her torso, cupping her breasts before sliding back down to grip her waist. “You’re perfect.”

The pleasure built between them, the pace growing more urgent as the tension coiled tighter. Travis thrust up to meet her movements, his hands gripping her with just the right amount of pressure, grounding her as the pleasure mounted higher and higher.

“Travis,” she moaned, her body trembling, on the edge of something intense.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he promised, flipping them over in one swift motion, pinning her beneath him. He drove into her with purpose now, his forehead pressing against hers, their breaths mingling as they reached the peak together. The moment stretched, endless and consuming, until they both shattered, clinging to each other as waves of pleasure crashed over them.

Afterward, as they lay tangled in the sheets, skin damp and hearts still racing, Travis cupped her face, brushing a thumb over her cheek. His eyes were dark, filled with something deeper than just satisfaction.

“I want you forever,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I want this. You. Us. Forever.”

Taylor smiled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “I want you forever too,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his skin. “I can’t wait to tell our kids about this day. About watching their dad win the Super Bowl.”

Travis grinned, his hand resting gently on her stomach. “I hope our little girl has her mother’s eyes.”

She laughed, light and full of joy. “Oh, we’ll probably end up with all boys,” she teased. “Kylie and Jason have all the girls, so we’ll probably have a bunch of boys.”

His smile widened as he pulled her even closer. “Then we’ll keep going until I get a little girl just like you.”

Taylor’s heart swelled at the thought, at the certainty in his voice. This—this was everything. Love, passion, a future that stretched out in front of them like a dream waiting to unfold.

As she nestled into his embrace, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she knew without a doubt—this was their love story. One they were still writing, one that would last forever.

Chapter Text

Daylight
Travis POV
February 2024

Sydney
Travis couldn’t help the grin that split his face as he stood among thousands of screaming fans in Accor Stadium. The roar was deafening, the energy electric. Taylor commanded the stage with a presence that left him awestruck every single time. The lights, the costumes, the choreography—it was a world apart from the game-winning touchdowns and roaring stadiums he was used to, but somehow, the thrill was just as intense.
And when she sang Karma with that little smirk, playfully pointing toward him as the crowd erupted at the lyric "Karma is the guy on the Chiefs," he nearly lost it. He laughed so hard his cheeks hurt, but his chest swelled with pride.
Here she was, at the pinnacle of her career, the master of her craft. And she still had time to tease him, to remind him that their worlds—though so different—had collided in a way that somehow made perfect sense.

Later that night, Travis sat on the deck of the yacht, the cool night air sweeping in from the Sydney Harbour. He looked out at the city lights twinkling on the water, but his mind wasn’t on the scenery. It was on Taylor, standing on stage a few hours ago, singing with such ease and confidence that it took his breath away.

He had just won the biggest game of his career, but nothing compared to seeing her perform, feeling the energy she radiated. She wasn’t just a star—she was a force of nature, something bigger than anything he’d ever known. And as he watched her sing, he thought about how far they’d both come. The things they’d been through, the scars they carried. How, for so long, their lives had been a whirlwind of bright lights, constant movement, never stopping long enough to truly see anything.

But now, he saw her.

He heard her.

He felt her.

The way he had spent years surrounded by people but still feeling alone, like luck had never quite been on his side. The way she’d spent years giving and giving, only to be met with judgment, heartbreak, and people who never really stayed. He thought about the lines he had crossed, the mistakes that had shaped them both. And yet, somehow, here they were—clearing the air, breathing in something new.

“Hey,” Taylor’s voice pulled him from his thoughts as she slid onto the deck beside him, her fingers brushing his. She wore a soft smile, her eyes still holding that sparkle he’d always adored.

“You’re staring off into the distance,” she teased, leaning against him. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Better than good. I’m just… blown away by you, Taylor. You’re amazing.”

She chuckled softly, but there was a vulnerability to her smile. “You’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto hers with a serious intensity. “No. I mean it. Watching you perform, watching you be yourself… it’s something else. It’s not just your talent, it’s who you are, Taylor. You’re real. And that’s something special.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she smiled even wider. “I feel the same way about you. I always have.”

For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet of the harbour wrapping around them like a cocoon. No media, no expectations, no past regrets. Just them, finding something new, something that wasn’t tainted by everything that had come before.

“Before you, I think I was asleep,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “Like I was just going through the motions. But with you? I don’t wanna look at anything else. I don’t wanna think of anything else. You changed everything.”

She inhaled shakily, pressing her forehead to his. “Me too,” she whispered. “You made me believe in something good again.”

His lips found hers, slow and deep, a kiss that felt like an ending and a beginning all at once.

——
Singapore

They wandered through the Gardens by the Bay, marveling at the towering Supertrees and colorful floral displays. Travis found himself more captivated by her—the way her eyes lit up, the way she grabbed his hand to pull him closer to a particularly stunning view, the way she tilted her head back to take everything in like she was memorizing it.

“You see the world differently,” he said as they sat on a bench under the glowing trees that evening.

She raised a brow. “How so?”

“You make everything feel… magical. Like I’m seeing it for the first time.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Travis exhaled, feeling an odd sense of peace settle over him. He thought back to the person he used to be—the guy who trusted the wrong people, who spent years searching for something but never quite knowing what. And Taylor… she had been through her own darkness. The betrayals, the loneliness, the way she had given so much of herself only to be met with doubt.

Maybe she had run with the wolves. Maybe he had been one of them once.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

A faint sound reached his ears—distant club music, the bass thumping softly as a taxi drove past on a nearby street. It brought him back to another night, far removed from the tranquility of Singapore.

——

Flashback: Kansas City Nightclub, Early 2023

The music pounded through the speakers of the packed nightclub, bass shaking the floor as lights flashed in sync with the beat. Travis sat in a private booth with his friend Ross and a handful of close friends, their laughter cutting through the noise. Fresh off their Super Bowl victory, the group was in high spirits, clinking glasses and retelling the night’s most spectacular plays for the hundredth time.

“Man, you’re living the dream, Trav,” Ross said, raising his glass. “Super Bowl champ, face of the franchise, and…” He gave a mock dramatic pause. “…basically every woman in this club trying to get your attention.”

Travis chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax, bro. Let me enjoy this without the commentary.”

But Ross grinned and gestured subtly toward a nearby group of women at the edge of the VIP section. “I’m just saying, they’re plotting over there. Look at ‘em.”

Travis followed his friend’s gaze. A trio of women stood close, their drinks in hand, heads tilted together in conversation. He couldn’t hear their words, but their glances in his direction said plenty.

Still, when the loud beats of the club shifted into a slower, more sensual rhythm, their words somehow reached him.

“He’s the prize tonight,” one of them said.

“Oh, no doubt,” another agreed. “I mean, have you seen the size of his hands? And you *know* what they say about that.”

They all burst into laughter before one of them added, “Forget his hands. The guy’s worth millions. Secure the bag, babe. Lock that down.”

The last one rolled her eyes. “Please. If I get the chance, I’m walking out of here pregnant. Kelce’s baby mama? Set for life.”

“Do you think he knows how much his dick could change our lives?" one of the women said, her voice carrying above the music.

Travis clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to leave. His friends laughed, but he couldn’t find the humor in it. They weren’t looking at him—they were looking at what he represented. They weren’t interested in the real him. They didn’t see the man who worked tirelessly, who played the game because he loved it, who had dreams beyond the field.

“He’s a walking paycheck,” one of the women said, laughing as she sipped her drink. “He could get us set for life. All we need to do is get close enough.”

The words stung, each one sharper than the last, a reminder of how he felt every time he stepped into a room full of people who saw him as a commodity, not a person.

Travis’s stomach tightened as the laughter echoed over the music. At first, he tried to brush it off, chalking it up to the usual nonsense that came with fame. But as the night wore on, the sting of their words lingered.

Ross nudged him, oblivious to his friend’s darkening mood. “Hey, what’s up? You’re quieter than usual.”

Travis forced a smile and shrugged. “Nothing, just thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated. “About how sometimes, it feels like people don’t see me. Just… what they can get from me.”

Ross frowned, leaning back in his seat. “Come on, man. You know that’s not true for everyone.”

“Yeah,” Travis said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Sure.”

He excused himself not long after, slipping out of the club and into the cold Kansas City night. The victory should have felt sweeter, but all he could think about was whether he’d ever find someone who saw past the headlines and bank accounts to the real Travis Kelce.

---

Singapore, March 2024

Taylor’s laughter brought him back to the moment as they walked along the Bay Gardens. Her hand was warm in his, and the soft glow of the illuminated trees above them painted her features with a dreamlike quality.

“You’re miles away,” she said, nudging him gently. “What’s on your mind?”

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

She stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “I’m the lucky one, you know.”

He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Not a chance. I’ve spent too much time around people who didn’t see me. You? You see everything. The good, the bad, the weird—and you still stick around.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re worth sticking around for.”

——-

Back at the penthouse suite overlooked Marina Bay Sands, the city twinkling below in the early hours of the morning, but Travis only had eyes for Taylor.

She was standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wearing nothing but her chiefs t-shirt—, barely covering her ass. His cock twitched at the sight, hunger clawing at his gut.

“Come here,” he rasped, his voice thick with need.

Taylor smirked over her shoulder, that teasing, knowing look that drove him insane, but she obeyed. The second she was close enough, he spun her around, gripping her waist, and pressed her hands against the cool glass.

“You see that view, baby?” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Singapore waking up, the whole world moving—” He slid a hand between her legs, groaning when he found her already soaked. “And they have no fucking clue I’ve got you like this.”

Taylor’s breath hitched as he dragged two fingers through her slick folds, teasing.

“Travis,” she whined, her hips shifting, needy.

He smirked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “So desperate already? You want it that bad?”

She pushed back against him, rubbing her ass against the thick length of him through his boxers.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice wrecked.

That one word sent fire licking through his veins.

He dropped to his knees, his hands spreading her open, baring every inch of her to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of her ass. “You’re dripping for me, baby. Look at you.”

Taylor whimpered, her forehead pressing to the glass as he licked a slow, filthy stripe up her slit. He flicked his tongue over her clit, teasing, then sucked it into his mouth.

“Travis,” she gasped, her fingers curling against the window.

“Mm,” he hummed, the vibration making her shudder. “You taste like fucking sin.”

He slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, groaning at the way she clenched around them. He pumped them slow, dragging out the wet, obscene sounds of her arousal, then added a third, stretching her open.

Taylor let out a choked moan, her knees trembling.

“Jesus—fuck—”

He smirked against her, his tongue never stopping.

“You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his fingers fucking into her harder, deeper. “You want me splitting you open, don’t you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

He didn’t let up, pushing her closer and closer until she was shaking, gasping.

“Travis,” she panted, “I—I—”

“Yeah?” His voice was pure sin, his fingers relentless. “You gonna soak my hand, baby? Make a fucking mess for me?”

Her body tensed, then she shattered, crying out as pleasure crashed through her. She clenched around his fingers, her slick dripping down his wrist.

Travis groaned, licking his fingers clean, then stood behind her. He yanked down his boxers, his cock thick, aching, leaking.

He dragged the tip through her wetness, teasing her.

“You ready for me, baby?” he rasped, rubbing himself against her, making them both groan. “Ready for me to fuck you so hard you feel me tomorrow?”

Taylor whimpered, pushing back against him. “Please, Travis.”

His control snapped.

With one deep thrust, he buried himself inside her, both of them groaning at the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips, holding her in place as he pulled back and slammed into her again.

Taylor let out a strangled moan, her body arching.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He drove into her, each thrust rough, deep, claiming. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the suite, mixed with their ragged breaths, the wet, filthy noises of their bodies colliding.

“Jesus, baby,” he panted, watching where they were joined, watching the way she took every inch of him. “You feel this? Feel how fucking perfect you are for me?”

Taylor moaned, her nails scraping against the window as she rocked back against him.

“Travis,” she gasped, her voice wrecked. “You’re so fucking deep—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he gritted out, gripping her hips tighter. “You can take it, baby. You were made to take it.”

She sobbed his name, her body tightening, but he wasn’t done. He reached around, finding her clit again, rubbing fast, desperate circles.

Taylor’s breath hitched, her body shuddering.

“Fuck, Travis—I can’t—”

“Let go, baby,” he rasped, his cock throbbing inside her. “Let me feel you.”

She broke apart, moaning his name as she trembled around him, and the tight, pulsing squeeze of her sent him over the edge. He groaned, slamming deep, spilling inside her, his body shaking from the force of it.

They stayed like that, panting, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. The first light of dawn spilled into the suite, bathing them in a golden glow. He slowly pulled out then guided her to the bed and hugged her towards him.

Then his gaze drifted lower, and fuck—

His cock twitched, already stirring back to life at the sight of his release still dripping out of her, slick and glistening between her thighs.

“Jesus, baby,” he muttered, running a hand down her spine.

She hummed, her lips brushing his jaw. “Mm?”

Travis smirked, gripping her hips and rolling her onto her back, settling between her thighs again.

“We’re not done yet.”

Taylor gasped as he slid a finger through the mess between her legs, gathering it up before pushing it back inside her.

“Travis,” she whined, her thighs trembling as he worked his fingers in slow, teasing strokes.

He pressed a kiss to her thigh, his voice thick with need. “Look at you, baby. So full of me.”

Taylor’s breath hitched, her hips lifting to meet his touch, already desperate again.

He groaned, sliding up her body, his lips brushing over her ear. “Think you can take me one more time?”

As Travis lay on his back, Taylor straddling him, her body warm and soft above his. This time, there was no urgency—just slow, deep worship.

“Ride me, baby,” he murmured, his hands gliding up her thighs. “Let me see you fall apart on my cock.”

Taylor met his gaze, her lips parting, her eyes still heavy with satisfaction, but she clearly wanted more. She reached between them, guiding him slowly inside her, and they both groaned at the slow, torturous stretch.

“Fuck,” Travis gritted out, his fingers digging into her hips. “That’s it, baby. Take me. Take all of me.”

She sank down completely onto him, and his breath caught as he felt the slick heat of her surround him again, still drenched from when he’d just fucked her. His cum mixed with her arousal, coating him as she moved, the lewd, wet sounds between them making his cock throb inside her. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his hands gripping her hips, watching the way she took him so easily, so perfectly. “Still dripping my cum. You feel that? Feel how soaked you are?” Taylor moaned, her nails dragging over his chest as she rolled her hips, slow and deliberate, letting him feel every squeeze, every pulse of her tight, dripping heat. “I love it,” she whispered, biting her lip. “Love the way you fill me up. Love knowing it’s still inside me.” His jaw clenched, his fingers trailing up to cup her breasts, his thumbs circling her hard, sensitive nipples. She gasped, arching into his touch, her pace faltering for a moment. “That’s right,” he murmured, pinching just enough to make her whimper. “My filthy girl. You like my cock stuffing you full don’t you?” Taylor let out a shuddering breath, her hands bracing on his chest as she rode him deeper, her body trembling with pleasure. “God, yes,” she panted. “Love your cock.” Travis groaned, his head falling back, his grip tightening on her hips as he thrust up into her, unable to hold back any longer. Watching her like this—her body slick with sweat, her arousal dripping down his length, her lips parted in pleasure—was the filthiest, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His hands slid up her back, then into her hair, pulling her down into a kiss. This one was different—soft, lingering, full of something deeper than just lust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured against her lips, his hands worshipping her body, memorizing every inch.

Taylor moaned, tangling her fingers in his hair as she moved faster, her body taking him deeper, her slick heat wrapped so tight around him he swore he was losing his mind.

“Travis,” she gasped, her head falling back, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders.

He growled low in his throat, his hands sliding from her hips up her sides, thumbs brushing the soft curve of her waist, before moving higher to cup her breasts.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, rolling her nipples between his fingers, feeling them pebble under his touch. “Look at you—so fucking perfect. These—” He gave a teasing squeeze, making her whimper. “I could stay here all day.”

She moaned, arching into his hands as he flicked his thumbs over the sensitive peaks, his lips curving into a smirk at how easily she melted for him.

“You like that, huh?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick one before sucking it into his mouth.

Taylor gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. “God, Travis pinch me harder —”

“You’re so fucking responsive,” he groaned, lavishing attention on her other breast, sucking hard before nipping at her soft skin. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Taylor moaned, arching her back as his thumbs teased over her nipples, barely brushing them. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. “Harder,” she panted, her hands covering his, guiding him. “Pinch them harder, baby.” Travis groaned, obeying instantly, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingers before tugging sharply. Taylor gasped, her body jerking as a pulse of pleasure shot straight to her core. He fucking loved it—loved how sensitive she was, how she craved the roughness, how she whimpered when he gave it to her just right. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, his grip on her tightening as she moved above him, her slick heat squeezing his cock with every roll of her hips. “Your tits are fucking perfect. Big, soft, made for my hands, my mouth.” She whined as he leaned up, dragging his tongue over one hardened peak before latching on, sucking hard. His teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, and she gasped, her nails biting into his shoulders. He grinned against her skin, biting again, harder this time, before pulling back and watching the way her nipple glistened from his spit. “Goddamn, look at you,” he murmured, palming both of her breasts, squeezing, kneading, loving the way they fit so perfectly in his hands. “I could spend all fucking day with my face buried in these tits. Kiss them, bite them, suck them until you’re begging me to stop.” Taylor whimpered, her head falling back, her movements becoming more erratic.

“Shit, baby, I wanna come all over them,” he groaned, thrusting up into her, feeling the way her slickness coated his cock. “Wanna see my cum dripping down your tits, marking them, making them mine.”

“Travis,” she gasped, grinding down on him, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him back to her chest. “Do it. Fuck, I want it.” His control snapped. He latched onto her again, sucking bruises into her soft skin, his fingers digging into her waist as he fucked up into her harder, chasing the edge, knowing he was about to lose it completely.

His hands dropped to her hips, guiding her faster as she rode him, her movements desperate, her breath coming in ragged little pants.

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned, his hips rising to meet hers. “Give it to me. Let me have you.”

She trembled, the pleasure building between them, slow and consuming.

“God, I love this,” she panted, her nails dragging down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake. “Love you.”

His heart clenched.

He grabbed an arm around her waist, needing her as close as possible. His other hand slid between them, finding her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

“I love you too, baby,” he murmured, his mouth brushing over hers. “So much.”

Her body tensed, her breath catching, and then she shattered again, her orgasm washing over her in slow, rolling waves.

Travis gritted his teeth, the heat coiling low in his spine, his body teetering on the edge. He wanted to stay buried inside her, to feel every pulse of her tight, soaked heat milking him dry—but the image in his head, the thought of seeing her covered in him, was too fucking tempting to resist. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hands tightening on her hips. “Gonna cum, baby. Gotta see it all over you.” Taylor whimpered, her body shuddering as she pulled out, the loss making her gasp. But then he wrapped a fist around his cock, slick and throbbing from her, and she watched, panting, as he stroked himself hard and fast. “Jesus, look at you,” he growled, his eyes locked on her tits, flushed and bouncing with each breath. “So fucking perfect. Mine.” She bit her lip, pressing her arms under her breasts, pushing them together in a way that made his vision blur. “Give it to me,” she whispered, teasing, breathless. “Mark me, baby.” Travis groaned deep in his chest, his body locking up as his release ripped through him. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted her skin, streaking across her flushed breasts, dripping down her stomach. He let out a guttural moan, his strokes slowing as he squeezed out every last drop, mesmerized by the sight of her—his gorgeous, filthy girl, marked and ruined just the way he loved. Taylor smirked, dragging a finger through the mess, bringing it to her lips with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Mmm,” she hummed, sucking it clean, her gaze locked on his. Travis groaned. “Fuck, baby,” he panted, dragging her down for a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

For a moment, they just breathed together, tangled, skin slick with sweat, her body still clenched around him.

Taylor let out a soft, breathless laugh, her fingers tracing lazy circles over his chest.

Travis leaned back against the pillows, taking her with him, keeping her tucked against his body.

The sun rose higher outside, the city now busy below, but in that moment, there was only them.

Travis held her close, his lips ghosting over her forehead.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “Always.”

Taylor smiled, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. “Always.”

Hey," Travis said, breaking the silence, his voice suddenly serious, "what do you think our future looks like?"

Taylor's eyes softened, and she leaned in closer. "I’ve thought about it a lot. After this tour, after everything, I want something different. I want the real stuff. I want to build something... with you."

He nodded, the thought of her with him, by his side, growing stronger with every passing second. "I think about it too. When I retire, when you’re done with the tour... I want us to have more. Music, family, whatever that looks like. I want to be a dad, I want us to build something bigger than either of us could do on our own."

Her eyes shone as she squeezed his hand, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want that too. You’ve always made me feel like I can be more than what the world expects me to be."

"And you make me feel like I’m not just a name or a number. You make me feel... like me."

He could see the emotion in her eyes, a softness that matched the way his heart swelled with affection. “I feel like I’m seeing daylight for the first time, Taylor. I’ve been lost in the dark for so long, and you… you’ve brought me into the light. Into a place where I can just be myself.”

She reached up, gently cupping his face, her thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. "And you’ve made me feel like I’m not alone. I never knew I could feel this way. After everything, the career, the noise, the people—this feels real."

Her lips brushed against his, the kiss tender. There were no barriers between them now, no public personas or expectations. Just them, the quiet of the harbour, and the future they were building together.

As the kiss deepened, Travis pulled her back into him, his hands running over her curves like he couldn’t get enough. He needed her, wanted her, not just for today, but for every moment, every year that came after. This was the kind of love that didn’t fade—it only grew.

“I love you,” he murmured, his lips against her neck as he pressed her closer, feeling the heat of her skin against his.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her hands tangled in his hair. “More than you know.”

With each touch, each kiss, each word, they were weaving their future together. A future filled with love, family, and the kind of quiet moments where they could just be who they were—no expectations, no headlines, just Travis and Taylor, finding daylight together.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

Feb 2024

Taylor sat in the quiet of Travis’s car, the weight of the past few weeks pressing heavily on her chest. For days—maybe even weeks—she had felt the anxiety building inside her with no clear reason. She would wake up restless, her mind racing, unable to shake the tightness that gripped her. And every time she thought about confiding in Travis, she pushed it away. She didn’t want to burden him.

He had been attentive, supportive, and loving, and she hated the thought of him seeing her unravel. So, she smiled when he was near, laughed when he cracked jokes, and played along as if everything was perfectly fine. But it wasn’t.

The Mahomes’ house was buzzing with laughter and energy, and for once, Taylor felt like she could breathe. Travis had been glued to her side all evening, whispering little jokes in her ear, kissing her, not caring who was looking, and keeping her anchored in the chaos of the party.
“You’re glowing tonight,” he said, his hand resting on the small of her back as they stood by the drink station.

She laughed softly. “You’re biased.”
“Damn right, I am,” he said, grinning before kissing her temple.
Taylor felt a warmth spread through her chest, her earlier anxieties pushed aside by his steady presence. She was happy, genuinely happy, as they mingled with the other guests.
But then Patrick appeared, tugging on Travis’s arm. “You’ve gotta see the new car, man.”
Travis hesitated, looking down at her. “You good if I step out for a second?”
“Go,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be long,” he promised, giving her hand a squeeze before following Patrick outside.

Taylor stayed by the food table, her mood still light as she reached for a mini slider. She was bloated from just finishing her period and a little self-conscious in the tight dress, but for once, she didn’t care. The way Travis’s eyes had lit up when she had walked out of the bedroom made her feel confident and sexy, the way only he did.

Her eyes darted to Pia, one of Travis’s PR agents, who was talking animatedly with a group of women. Pia was confident, petite and polished—everything Taylor wasn’t feeling tonight. She was always polite around Travis, but the second he was out of earshot, Pia’s demeanor shifted. Her disdain for Taylor was apparent, her remarks dripping with subtle condescension.

As Taylor helped herself to another of the mini sliders from the food table Pia appeared beside her.

“It’s so refreshing to see a girl with such a big appetite,” Pia said, her smile sweet but her tone razor-sharp as she looked up at Taylor.

Taylor froze for a second before forcing a laugh,. “Can’t resist these,” she replied lightly, though her stomach twisted.

Pia’s eyes scanned her, landing pointedly on her midsection before flitting away. “Well, enjoy. I’m
sure they’re worth it.”

Taylor bit her lip, swallowing back the sting. She wasn’t going to let Pia get to her, but the cumulative weight of her subtle jabs was impossible to ignore.

---

Later, Taylor was on her way to grab another wine from the kitchen when she overheard Pia’s voice, sharp and unmistakable, drifting from the next room.

“Honestly, I don’t get the hype,” Pia said, her tone smug. “She goes through men like other people go through panties. It’s only a matter of time before she gets bored of Travis. She always does.”

Taylor froze in place, her breath catching in her throat.

“Once she’s out of the picture, though?” Pia added with a low chuckle. “I’m taking my shot. I’ve seen what he’s working with in the locker room, and he’s definitely had a lot of experience with a LOT of women and let’s just say...I’m ready.”

Laughter erupted from the other girl, and Taylor’s stomach churned. She stumbled back toward the kitchen, blinking back tears.

How many women had there been before her? How much experience was Pia talking about? And why did she sound so certain, so smug, like Taylor was just another name on a list?

Her throat tightened as she turned back toward the kitchen, forcing down the sting in her eyes.

Why did Pia hate her so much? Why did she seem to enjoy tearing her down?

And worse—why did some part of Taylor wonder if she was right?

---

By the time Brittany found her, Taylor was cowering in the corner, downing another glass of wine.

“Hey, you okay?” Brittany asked, her voice soft, her hand resting gently on Taylor’s arm.

Taylor forced a smile. “Fine. Just...needed a moment.”

Brittany’s brows knitted in concern. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. It’s quieter.”

Before Taylor could protest, Brittany guided her upstairs into her own bedroom and shut the door.

Taylor sniffled, quickly wiping her face. “I’m fine.”
The door opened, and Brittany stepped inside, closing it gently behind her. “No, you’re not,” she said, her voice kind but firm.
Taylor let out a shaky laugh. “I’m just drunk and emotional. It’s nothing.”
Brittany frowned, sitting beside her on the bed. “What happened?”
Taylor hesitated, biting her lip. “It’s Pia,” she finally admitted, her voice breaking. “She hates me, Brittany. She’s always making little comments, looking at me like I don’t belong here. And tonight...she said...” Her voice trailed off as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
Brittany wrapped an arm around her. “What did she say?”
Taylor shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too humiliating.”

“Taylor,” Brittany said gently, “you can tell me.”
After a long pause, Taylor whispered, “She said Travis has slept with a lot of women and I go through men like panties. That everyone’s just waiting for me to move on from Travis. And...she said she’s going to take her shot when I do.”

Brittany’s jaw tightened, and she looked furious on Taylor’s behalf. “That’s disgusting. She’s disgusting. Don’t you dare let her get to you.”

Taylor pulled back, her eyes searching Brittany’s face. “You don’t understand. I’m the problem, Brittany. Everyone’s always watching me, judging me, waiting for me to fail. It’s exhausting.”

Brittany sighed, her heart aching for her friend. “You’re not the problem. People are just awful sometimes. But you can’t let someone like Pia dictate how you feel about yourself—or about Travis. And for the record—yeah, Travis had women throwing themselves at him, like most single players. But he wasn’t that bad.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” Taylor said, her voice thick with tears. “I can’t even tell Travis. He’d lose it if he knew what Pia said, and it would just make everything worse.”
“Maybe,” Brittany said carefully. “But you shouldn’t keep this bottled up, Tay. It’s not good for you.”
“I can’t,” Taylor insisted, shaking her head. “I can’t cause problems for him. Everyone already thinks I’m high-maintenance. If I start complaining about his PR agent...it’ll just make me look worse.”
Brittany sighed. “You’re putting way too much pressure on yourself.”

When Taylor didn’t respond, Brittany sighed and sat beside her on the bed. "Look, I won’t lie to you—most single players? They have women throwing themselves at them constantly, and a lot of them take full advantage of that. I’ve seen guys hook up with ten different girls in a week and not think twice about it." She shook her head. "But Travis wasn’t like that. Yeah, he had fun when he was younger, but he was never the guy chasing every girl who looked his way. He’s not that kind of person."

Taylor stared at the floor, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. Brittany could tell she was struggling to believe her.

"Tay," Brittany said gently, nudging her knee. "I know this is hard, but you have to trust him. You can’t let someone like Pia get in your head. She wants to rattle you, and you’re letting her."

Taylor swallowed hard. "But what if she’s right? What if I’m just another name on his list?"

Brittany frowned. "Do you really believe that? Does he treat you like that?"

Taylor hesitated, then shook her head. "No."

"Exactly. Because you’re not just some fling to him. You’re Taylor freakin’ Swift. And not just because of who you are to the world—because of who you are to *him*."

Taylor sniffled, pressing her palms into her eyes. "I just—I don’t want to mess this up."

"Then don’t," Brittany said simply. "Trust him. Trust yourself. And stop letting other people dictate how you feel about your own relationship."

Taylor exhaled shakily, nodding. The weight on her chest didn’t disappear, but it felt just a little lighter. Still, her mind was in turmoil. Every word Pia had said kept replaying in her head, over and over, like a cruel loop she couldn’t break. Even Brittany’s reassurances couldn’t fully drown out the nagging insecurities clawing at her.

"You okay?" Brittany asked softly.

Taylor forced a smile, nodding. "Getting there," she lied.

——

But as she lay down in bed that night, unable to sleep, the lingering ache of Pia’s words and her own insecurities still gnawed at her. She knew this was far from over.

She turned to Travis. “Can I ask you something?” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.
Travis tightened his arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Anything, baby.”
She hesitated for a beat before forcing herself to just say it. “How many women have you been with?”

His body tensed, just for a second. “Uh…” He exhaled, shifting slightly. “You really wanna know?”
Taylor’s heart thudded. “Yeah.”
Travis was quiet for a moment. He looked down at her, as if gauging how honest he should be, then ran a hand over his face. “Probably around… just over a hundred?”
She sat up so fast it made her head spin. “What?”
Travis swallowed hard, pushing himself onto his elbows. “I mean, I don’t have an exact number. But yeah, somewhere around there.”
Taylor blinked, her stomach twisting tighter. “A hundred.”
He watched her carefully. “Babe, I—”
“A hundred,” she repeated, her voice cracking, like the word itself was cutting her. “Jesus, Travis.”
His chest tightened. “It’s not like I kept a list or anything. I just—”
She let out a short, sharp laugh, but it wasn’t funny. It was almost hysterical. “You just? You just what, Travis? Just fucked a hundred women?” Her voice wavered, rising in pitch. “That’s so—God, that’s insane.”

He flinched. “Taylor—”
“I feel sick,” she whispered, gripping the sheets. “I feel—” Her breath hitched, and suddenly she was scrambling away from him, as if she couldn’t bear to be touched by him right now. “I feel dirty just hearing that.”
Travis’s stomach twisted violently. “Baby, don’t—”
She was shaking her head, her breathing erratic. “I don’t—I don’t even want to know how many of them you actually remember.”

“Taylor, I—”

“How many times have you gotten tested?” she blurted, voice shrill. “Because Jesus Christ, Travis, over a hundred women? Do you even know—” She cut herself off, her chest heaving, pressing her hands against her face. “Oh my God.”

“Of course. You know I’ve been tested,” he said quickly, sitting up fully now. “I’ve always been careful, I swear. I wore condoms every single time. I hadn’t thought about numbers before—not in a way that mattered. But hearing the pain in your voice, seeing the way you are unraveling in front of me, I wished I’d never answered. Wished I’d lived my entire life differently, just so you wouldn’t be looking at me like this now.”

She let out a ragged breath, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Less than ten.”
Travis frowned. “What?”
“That’s how many men I’ve been with,” she said, voice hoarse. “8 to be exact. And you—” She let out a bitter laugh, but it sounded more like she was about to cry. “Over a hundred, Travis. I don’t even know what to do with that.”

I don’t understand,” she continued, voice rising. “I’m the one who gets called a slut. I’m the one the world scrutinizes for dating and existing and being a woman, and you—” She gestured wildly at him. “You get to be the stud, the legend, the guy everyone thinks is cool. And you’ve slept with over a hundred women.”
Travis swallowed hard. “Taylor—”
“Did any of them mean anything to you?” she cut in, voice breaking. “Or was it just easy?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I only had one real girlfriend since college. And we were on and off.”
She scoffed. “Oh, so just ninety-nine meaningless hookups then?”
His stomach dropped. “It wasn’t like that.”
Her eyes flashed. “Then what was it like, Travis? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds a lot like you just fucked your way through the last decade.”
Travis’s jaw clenched, a mix of frustration and guilt rising in his chest. “I didn’t think about it like that at the time.”
“Well, I’m thinking about it now,” she snapped. “And I hate it.”
He reached for her hand, but she yanked it away. “Taylor, please—”
“Does sex even mean anything to you?” she whispered, voice raw. “Or am I just another one on your list?”
He looked like his heart had nearly cracked in half. “You’re not a number to me. You never were.”

She shook her head, swiping at her tears. “I don’t even know how to look at you right now.”

His chest ached. “Please, baby,” he murmured. “Please don’t let this be the thing that makes you pull away from me.”

She looked away, her breath still shaky. But after a long moment, she let him reach for her hand. Her fingers were stiff, unmoving—but she didn’t pull away.

Her mind was still reeling, spinning through everything she’d learned. A hundred women. Maybe more. The sheer volume of it made her stomach churn. She pictured all the nameless, faceless girls—ones who had barely meant anything to him, ones who had been nothing more than a night, a moment, a body.

And yet, here she was, losing sleep over it. Feeling like it meant something about her. Like it cheapened what they had. Like no matter how much she told herself she was different, there was a part of her that wasn’t entirely sure.

Travis exhaled, squeezing her hand gently. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you.”

She wanted to believe him. She did believe him. But her insecurities weren’t so easily silenced.

Taylor let out a slow, trembling breath. She wasn’t okay. Not yet.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

Travis swallowed hard. “Okay.”

——

The next day, Taylor was curled up on the couch next to Travis. She was staring blankly at the screen, barely absorbing the movie playing in front of them.

Her mind was still tangled in everything from last night. Brittany’s reassurances. Pia’s words. Travis’s confession. It wasn’t just the number—it was the ease of it. The way men could move through women without judgment, without consequence. And yet here she was, sitting with a man who had been with more than ten times as many people as she had, and she was the one feeling dirty.

Her stomach twisted. She hated that it still sat so uncomfortably inside her. Hated that she couldn’t just brush it off.

A message popped up on her phone, pulling her from her thoughts.

Patrick Alwyn: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re holding up. Let me know if you need to talk.

A small, bittersweet smile played on her lips. Patrick had always been kind, the sweetest friend, like a brother, someone she’d always turned to when her anxiety started to spiral.

As she typed back a long reply, she felt Travis’s gaze on her.
“Who’s that?” he asked, his voice even, though there was a note of curiosity beneath it.
“Patrick,” she said casually, glancing up.
“Patrick?” he repeated, his brow furrowing. “Mahones?
She shook her head. “No Patrick Alwyn.”

“Joe’s brother? Why are you messaging him?” Travis asked, his tone dipping into something more possessive.
Taylor sighed, setting her phone down. “Because he’s like family to me. Travis, it’s not what you think.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Travis said, leaning back, though his jaw tightened. “It’s just...weird, isn’t it? Keeping in touch with your ex’s brother?”

“It’s not weird,” Taylor replied, her voice firm. She almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Patrick’s struggling. He’s always been like a little brother to me—nothing more. The idea of anything else is ridiculous.” Travis exhaled, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice was quieter now, less accusatory. “It’s just… he’s a tie to Joe. Your ex of six years.” Taylor’s expression softened. “I get that. But my friendship with Patrick was never about Joe. It’s just… Patrick.” Travis didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded. “Okay.” ”
“Do you talk to him often?” Travis pressed.
“Not really,” she admitted. “Just occasionally. He checks in, I check in. That’s it.”
“What do you even talk about?” Travis asked, clearly unsettled.
Taylor hesitated. “Sometimes...Joe,” she admitted. “Patrick worries about him. I don’t talk to Joe directly, but Patrick feels like he can talk to me. I care about him, Trav. It was six years—he was family.”
Travis exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “I trust you, Tay. I do. But it’s hard not to feel...weird about this.”

Taylor reached for his hand, squeezing it gently, her voice soft. “There’s nothing to feel weird about. Patrick’s like a brother to me. That’s all.”

But his silence told her there was more, more about Joe and her ties to him and she knew it. The memory of that time meeting Patrick - the confusion and the feelings towards Joe she’d tried to keep at bay at the time—pressed in on her. She closed her eyes for a moment, the past bleeding into the present.

---
Flashback: October 2016

Taylor sat cross-legged on Joe’s couch in his small rented Los Angeles apartment, sipping a glass of wine and smiling at something he’d just said. Their “casual” arrangement had quickly turned into long nights of laughter and inside jokes, of stolen kisses and whispered secrets. Still, they were careful not to label it, though Taylor couldn’t help but wish for more.

Joe’s gaze lingered on her, the soft glow of the dimly lit room casting shadows over his sharp features. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice low and rough in that way that always sent shivers down her spine.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You just like the way I look in this dress.”

“I like the way you look in everything,” he corrected, leaning in closer, his fingers grazing her cheek as he captured her lips in a slow, heated kiss.

Taylor sighed against his mouth, letting herself melt into him, her body instinctively shifting closer. His hands found her waist, tugging her onto his lap as the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her toes curl.

Her heart pounded as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. Her fingers traced along the lean muscles of his torso, nails lightly scraping against his skin, earning a quiet groan from him.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Joe muttered, his lips trailing down her jaw, his breath hot against her neck as he kissed, sucked, bit—his teeth grazing over sensitive skin, making her whimper.

His hands skimmed down her back, gripping her thighs as he shifted, guiding her down onto the couch beneath him. The weight of him pressed her into the cushions, his hips slotting between her legs, the hard outline of his arousal pressing against her pussy, making her gasp.

Joe’s hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress higher, his fingers tracing over the lace of her panties before hooking into the fabric and dragging them down her legs agonizingly slow. His mouth followed the path of his hands, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs, his breath hot and teasing against her skin.

“Joe,” she murmured, her fingers tangling in his blonde hair, tugging slightly, urging him on.

He let out a low chuckle, kissing just above where she needed him most, deliberately drawing it out. “Patience, darling.”

Her hips lifted involuntarily, chasing his touch. “Not my strong suit,” she admitted, breathless.

Joe hummed in amusement, but any teasing disappeared as he finally leaned in, his tongue flicking out, tasting her, making her back arch off the couch with a sharp inhale. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open for him as he worked her over with slow, languid strokes, alternating between soft flicks and deep, torturous pressure.

Taylor moaned, her grip tightening in his hair, her body already spiraling from the pleasure building deep in her core. He was relentless, sucking and licking in perfect rhythm, his stubble scraping deliciously against her sensitive skin, adding just the right amount of friction.

Her thighs trembled as she felt herself edging closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. She was right there, about to tip over, when—

A loud, abrupt knock at the door shattered the moment.

Taylor gasped, her entire body jolting at the sound. Joe let out a sharp curse against her thigh, his grip tightening for a split second before he forced himself to pull away.

“Our dinner,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration as he pressed his forehead against her hip, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Taylor groaned, tossing an arm over her face as she tried to catch her breath, still trembling from the high she’d been so close to reaching.

Joe chuckled darkly, running a hand through his tousled hair. “This delivery guy has the worst timing.”

She let out a breathless laugh, lifting her head to look at him. “You’re getting rid of him fast.”

Joe smirked, pressing a final kiss to her thigh before reluctantly pushing himself up. “Don’t move,” he ordered, voice low and commanding, sending another shiver down her spine.

She swallowed hard, watching as he disappeared down the hallway, closing the sliding door, her body still thrumming with need.

This casual arrangement was getting harder and harder to pretend it didn’t mean more.

When Joe opened the door, a younger man stood there, grinning widely, his bag slung over one shoulder.

“Patrick?” Joe said, startled. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

“Surprise!” Patrick declared, stepping inside without hesitation. “I wanted to get here early, so—”

He trailed off abruptly as he stepped further into the apartment, opening the sliding door to the living room, his gaze landing on the scene before him.

Taylor was still sprawled on the couch, her legs bare, the hem of her dress hastily being tugged back down over her thighs. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair slightly mussed, and the look of someone who had very recently been in the middle of something.

Patrick froze, his jaw dropping as realization dawned. “No way,” he blurted out, eyes wide in absolute shock. “You’re joking, right?”

Taylor’s stomach twisted with mortification, but she forced a polite smile, quickly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt to compose herself.

Joe exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Taylor, this is my younger brother, Patrick. Patrick, this is Taylor.”

Patrick’s eyes darted rapidly between them, still processing what he was seeing. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed, “Taylor Swift.” His voice was incredulous, almost disbelieving. “Like, the Taylor Swift?”

Taylor let out a soft, awkward laugh, shifting to sit up a little straighter. “Nice to meet you,” she said, reaching out a hand.

Patrick just stared at it for a beat too long, as if his brain hadn’t quite caught up. Then, finally, he shook it, his grip a little unsure. “Right. Yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” he said, still looking like he might need to sit down.

Joe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Patrick, for the love of God, stop looking so shocked.”

Patrick turned to him with an incredulous scoff. “Are you kidding me? Taylor Swift was just sitting in your living room, half—” He stopped himself, glancing at Taylor and turning slightly red. “I mean, what the hell, man?”

Taylor stifled a laugh, while Joe groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

This was not how she had imagined meeting his brother.

Patrick opened his mouth several times before finally asking “Joe, what the hell is going on? Are you dating Taylor Swift?!”

“It’s not like that,” Joe said quickly, his tone defensive. “We’re just—”

“—friends,” Taylor finished, her smile tightening.

Patrick frowned. “Friends? Mate I’m not blind?!” He said staring pointedly at Joe’s naked chest.

Joe shot him a sharp look, grabbing his t-shirt. “Patrick, I need you to keep this to yourself. Seriously. No one can know. Taylor and I are...private.”

Patrick blinked. “You don’t want anyone to know you’re dating Taylor Swift?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“It’s not about her,” Joe said, his voice low. “I just don’t want anyone in my business. You know how private I am.”

Patrick glanced at Taylor, who was watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. “Alright,” he said finally, though his tone was skeptical. “But, wow. This is insane.”

Joe sighed. “Can we just drop it? Please?”

Later that night the awkwardness had faded as the three of them drank whiskey and ate takeout. Patrick, despite his initial shock, was proving to be funny and easygoing, cracking jokes that even Joe couldn’t help but laugh at.

By the time Taylor excused herself to bed, she was thinking how much she liked Joe’s younger brother. He seemed genuine—light and happy in a way Joe wasn’t always.

But as she drifted off, voices from the living room filtered into the bedroom.

“She’s amazing,” Patrick was saying, his voice slightly slurred from the wine. “And you’re treating it like it’s nothing?”

“It’s not nothing,” Joe shot back. “But it’s casual. Not exclusive. We both agreed. We’re both still seeing other people.”

“Did she agree, or did she just say that?” Patrick asked. “Because from where I’m sitting, she’s into you. Like, really into you.”

Joe sighed. “She’s Taylor Swift, Patrick. You’ve seen the headlines.”

“That’s bullshit,” Patrick snapped. “She’s not a headline. She’s a person. And from what I’ve seen tonight, she’s incredible.”

Joe groaned. “It’s not that simple. You don’t get it. I didn’t tell anyone about us because I don’t want to get burned. Taylor’s got a past, and I’m not interested in being part of some tabloid narrative.”

Patrick’s voice sharpened. “You’re dragging your pasts behind you like a ball and chain. Don’t put that on her. If you keep holding back, you’re going to lose her.”

There was a pause before Joe spoke again, his voice quieter. “I know she’s amazing. I just...I’m scared. What if I’m not enough for her? What if she gets bored and moves on?”

Taylor’s chest tightened as the words sank in. Joe’s insecurities mirrored her own fears—that this was all too good to be true.

“You’re an idiot,” Patrick muttered. “If you don’t lock her down someone else will. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

---
Present

Back in the present, Taylor set her phone down, the memory of that night with Joe and Patrick still fresh in her mind. She couldn’t help but notice the faint tension in Travis’s body language. He was trying to hide it, but she could see the jealousy, that same possessive feeling she’d felt in his voice earlier. After a long pause, Travis sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softening. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I trust you, Tay. I really do. I just... I guess it got to me more than I thought.”

Taylor looked at him, surprised by his vulnerability. He met her gaze,his expression earnest. “I think it’s really nice that you’ve stayed in touch with Patrick. It’s clear you care about each other, and that’s important. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to explain yourself.”
Taylor smiled, feeling the weight lift from her chest. “Thank you, Trav. I appreciate that. It means a lot to me.”

---

Later that evening, as Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through her phone, a message from Brittany popped up in their group chat: “OMG, Kayla needs to get over it already.”

Curious, Taylor clicked the photo Brittany had accidentally sent. It was as screenshot from Kayla Nicole. The message Kayla had sent to another WAG read:
“Look at this—how can Travis go from me to *that*? She’s so mid. I’m literally a baddie, and she looks like a stick with no curves. What’s the appeal? I’ve got everything she doesn’t have. I don’t get how he downgraded so hard.”

Accompanying the text was a heavily filtered side-by-side photo of Kayla in a bikini and a old photo of Taylor when she was struggling with an eating disorder. Kayla’s comment was clear as day.

Taylor’s heart dropped as the words hit her like a punch to the gut. The comparison, the cruelty, the sheer judgment—it was overwhelming. She felt herself flush with a mix of anger and humiliation, unsure how to process the venomous message. The message was quickly deleted as it disappeared from her phone.

Before she could fully respond, Brittany’s frantic text followed:

“Tay, I’m so sorry! Meant to send that to Chariah. Please don’t pay any attention to it! I’ve deleted it, I am so sorry please tell me you didn’t click on it?”

But it was too late. The knot in Taylor’s chest grew tighter, the words from Kayla’s post lingering like a knife in her thoughts. The weight of insecurity and the lingering doubts from earlier with Pia were too much to bear.

She set her phone down on the table, the screen dimming as her thoughts spiraled.

Taylor got up and walked into the kitchen, still reeling from the weight of Kayla’s message. Her breath was uneven, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The words kept replaying in her head—Kayla comparing her to herself, calling her “mid,” calling Travis’s feelings for her a “downgrade.” It wasn’t just the cruel words; it was the reminder of what Travis had been through with Kayla. The emotional abuse, the constant undermining of his worth, and the way Kayla had controlled and manipulated him for so long. Now, hearing her say Taylor was a downgrade—it felt like a slap in the face to everything Travis had worked so hard to overcome.

Her breath was uneven, her mind a whirlwind of emotions as she poured herself a drink. She barely noticed when Travis gently pulled her into his side, wrapping his arm around her.

⸻

“Will you play me a song?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That one you played in Singapore… you know, Cowboy Like Me.”

Taylor inhaled deeply, her heart still pounding, but the warmth of his embrace grounded her.

She played with the hem of her shirt absentmindedly, her fingers tracing the fabric as she considered his request.

“Sometimes,” Travis continued softly, “I think that’s our song.”

Taylor turned to look up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why’s that?” she whispered.

Travis smiled gently, his voice low and tender. “Because it feels like us. Like we both spent so long playing a game we didn’t even realize we were in. You, always being whatever people expected you to be—charming, poised, untouchable. And me, doing the same thing in my own way. I’ve spent my whole life in locker rooms, in front of cameras, being the guy everyone wanted me to be.”

His fingers brushed over hers, a soft, grounding touch.

“I know we come from different worlds,” he continued, “but there’s something about it, about us. The way neither of us expected this, the way it just… happened when we weren’t looking for it. Like we were both used to running, to keeping our guard up, but somehow, we stopped. For each other.”

Taylor swallowed, her throat tight. The lyrics echoed in her mind—the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up.

“And the part about people talking, about the past?” Travis let out a quiet breath. “That’s real, too. You’ve had people doubt you, question your every move. And me? I’ve got my own stories, my own mistakes. The things people whisper about when they think I’m not listening. But none of it matters when I’m with you. There’s no game, no act. Just us.”

Taylor blinked back the tears burning at the edges of her vision.

“And the end,” Travis murmured, his lips brushing against her temple, “Forever is the sweetest con… I used to think love was like that, something that never really lasted. But then you happened. And now? Now I think forever might be real after all.”

Taylor inhaled deeply, her heart still pounding, but the warmth of his embrace was grounding.

He pressed another kiss to her temple, holding her a little tighter. Taylor let her head rest against his chest, the music playing softly in her mind, her thoughts calming as she let his words wash over her.

Taylor smiled softly, her eyes meeting his adoring ones. “The way you look at me… eyes full of stars,” she said gently, her voice quiet, but filled with emotion.

Travis’s gaze softened even more, his voice a tender whisper. “I love you, Taylor. So much. I wish more than anything I could change my past.” He kissed the top of her head again, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin.

“I know you’re having a hard time right now,” he continued, “but we’ll get through it. Together.” His words wrapped around her like a warm embrace, grounding her in a moment where everything felt uncertain.

Taylor closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into him fully. “Together,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, but full of trust and longing.

Taylor walked over to the grand piano Travis had gifted her, the one they’d chosen together in a quiet moment. Her fingers gently pressed down on the keys, the familiar melody of "Cowboy Like Me" filling the room.

Travis stood behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders, his voice soft. “That’s it,” he murmured, swaying slightly with her to the music.
When the last notes faded, he gently turned her around, his hands cupping her face. “Come on,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Without another word, he picked her up effortlessly, cradling her in his arms. Taylor laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to their bed.

Once they were settled, he held her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sleep now,” he said, his voice a lullaby of comfort. “We’ll face everything together.”

Chapter Text

Travis POV

March 2024

Travis feels off the whole morning.

He brushes it off while filming New Heights with Jason, powering through the episode with his usual energy, but a dull headache lingers behind his eyes. He blames it on the bright studio lights, the early call time, maybe even the travel catching up with him.

By the time he’s in the shower back at Taylor’s Beverly Hills home, steam filling the bathroom, water pounding against his sore muscles, he knows something’s wrong.

His head is pounding. His skin feels too hot, too tight.

He leans his forehead against the cool tile, trying to will the nausea away. The You Belong With Me melody hums through the Bluetooth speaker, the familiar lyrics washing over him.

She wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts…

She’s Cheer Captain, and I’m on the bleachers…

His vision blurs. His limbs feel heavy.

And then—

The fever drags him under.

—

It’s high school.

And Taylor Swift lives next door.

Travis barely has time to process it before he’s in it—like stepping straight into a memory he never actually lived. He’s seventeen, sweaty from football practice, his varsity jacket slung over his shoulder as he climbs the steps to his front porch.

And there she is.

Taylor, leaning against her own porch railing, a spiral notebook resting on her knee, bare feet tucked up on the wooden slats. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and old denim shorts, blonde curls falling over her shoulder as she scribbles something down.

She looks up when she sees him, her whole face lighting up. “Hey, superstar,” she teases. “How was practice?”

He smirks, dropping his bag by the door. “Killer. Coach had us running drills till our legs fell off.”

She scrunches her nose. “Gross.”

“You love it.”

Taylor rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She taps her pen against her notebook, watching as he stretches out on his porch steps. They do this most days—lingering outside after school, chatting about nothing and everything. It’s easy. It’s them.

But then his phone buzzes.

And his stomach clenches.

Because he already knows who it is.

He doesn’t have to look to know it’s her—his girlfriend Kayla. The Cheer Captain. The one who fits the mold of who he’s supposed to be with. She’s perfect on paper. Loud, beautiful, popular. She wears his jersey to games and kisses him in front of the whole school.

But she doesn’t get him.

Not like Taylor does.

The screen lights up with an incoming call, and Taylor glances at it before looking away, her smile dimming. “You should answer that,” she murmurs, suddenly focused on her notebook.

Travis sighs, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to. Not when Taylor is right here, looking at him like she actually sees him. But he presses accept, lifting the phone to his ear.

The voice on the other end is sharp. Accusing.

“Did you really just blow off our after school plans for football?”

Travis exhales, rubbing his temple. “Babe, I told you—I had practice.”

“That’s always your excuse.”

He closes his eyes. They’ve had this fight a hundred times. She doesn’t like that he prioritizes football, doesn’t understand why he spends so much time on the field, why he’d rather be at practice than following her around the mall.

Taylor doesn’t say anything, but he knows she’s listening. Knows she hears the tension in his voice.

When the call finally ends, Taylor lets out a breath, forcing a smile. “You ok?.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the step. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

She grins, nudging his knee with her foot. “Maybe.”

He should laugh. Tease her back. But instead, something heavy settles in his chest.

Because the truth is—he doesn’t want to be on the phone with his girlfriend, fighting about the same thing over and over. He wants to be here, on this porch, with Taylor.

And suddenly, it hits him.

Maybe he’s been looking in the wrong direction all along.

His heart pounds. He glances at her, at the way she’s curled up with her notebook, the way the afternoon sun catches in her hair.

She looks up then, her blue eyes locking onto his. “What?” she asks, a little breathless.

And for the first time, he wonders—What am I doing with a girl like that… when I could have you?

—

Travis barely remembers stumbling out of the bathroom.

The headache is pounding now, his limbs heavy, heat radiating from his skin like he’s burning up from the inside out. The next thing he knows, he’s collapsing onto their bed, too weak to pull the sheets over himself. The room spins, his body sinking into the mattress.

Somewhere in the haze, he hears the front door open.

“Travis?” Taylor’s voice floats through the house.

He wants to answer, but the fever is dragging him under again.

—

She’s everywhere.

The scent of her shampoo, the softness of her sheets, the faded posters of Tim McGraw and Faith Hill on the walls—this is her room.

Her childhood room.

And she’s here with him.

Taylor bites her lip, shifting on the bed, her knee bumping his as they sit cross-legged, facing each other.

His head is spinning, but it’s not just the fever. It’s her. The way her hair falls over her shoulder, the nervous way she tugs at the hem of her oversized T-shirt. The way she’s looking at him—like she’s waiting for something, like she’s always been waiting.

He swallows hard. “Tay…”

She tucks her hair behind her ear, fingers trembling. “Yeah?”

“I—” He hesitates, but then she shifts again, her knee pressing more firmly against his, and he knows.

This isn’t just some fever dream. This isn’t just something fleeting.

This is them.

His hand moves before he can stop it, brushing lightly against hers where it rests on the comforter. Even that smallest touch is electric, a shiver racing through him as their fingers barely graze. Taylor inhales sharply, her breath catching, eyes darting to where their hands rest between them.

And then she looks up at him.

Wide blue eyes, full pink lips parted like she’s about to say something. But she hesitates, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her pajama pants.

“Travis,” she whispers, voice barely more than a breath. “I’ve never—” She pauses, swallows. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

The words hit him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“You haven’t?” he asks, his voice low, almost reverent.

She shakes her head, cheeks turning a soft, nervous pink. “Never.”

His chest tightens, something warm and aching swelling inside him. The idea that he—out of everyone in the world—might be her first… it humbles him, makes his hands tremble slightly as he lifts one to her face, cupping her cheek.

“Do you want me to?” he asks softly, his thumb tracing along her cheekbone.

Taylor exhales shakily, but she doesn’t look away. And then, slowly, she nods.

That’s all he needs.

Travis closes the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in the softest, most careful press. It’s barely a kiss at all, just a whisper of touch, but even that is enough to send heat curling through his veins.

She makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat—a sigh, a gasp, something sweet—and he’s gone.

His hands slide into her hair, fingers tangling in golden strands as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. She’s hesitant at first, her hands clutching at the front of his hoodie like she’s not sure what to do, but then she melts into him, pressing closer, trusting him to lead.

He kisses her slowly, savoring every second, every soft brush of her lips, every quiet little sound she makes against his mouth. She tastes like bubblegum lip gloss and something hers, something he wants to drown in.

His thumb strokes gently over her cheek, his other hand trailing down to rest at the small of her back, pulling her just a little closer. Taylor shivers, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she clings to him tighter, like she’s been waiting for this just as much as he has.

The moment stretches, golden and perfect, until suddenly—impossibly—he’s not in her bedroom anymore.

The fever dream shifts, flickering like an old film reel, and suddenly he’s older. Still kissing her, still touching her, but the setting has changed. Their bedroom in Kansas City.

And Taylor isn’t seventeen anymore.

She’s a grown woman—his woman—but she’s looking at him now with something wounded in her eyes. Like she’s just realized something awful.

“How many?” she whispers.

His stomach drops.

He doesn’t have to ask what she means.

He wants to lie. Wants to protect this version of her, the one who still believes in love like a fairytale, the one who’s never been touched, never been wrecked by someone who didn’t deserve her.

But he can’t lie.

The number sits on the tip of his tongue, heavy and sharp, and he hates himself for it.

Taylor steps back, arms wrapping around herself. Her lips—her lips, the ones he just kissed—are parted in something like shock. And her eyes—God, her eyes—are filled with something close to heartbreak.

“Over a hundred,” she breathes.

It guts him.

Because in this fever-drenched haze, he’s not the confident man she knows now. He’s the kid who’s wanted her forever. The one who’s known, even when he tried not to, that she was it for him.

And now she’s looking at him like he’s ruined something. Like he’s not the boy next door she thought he was.

“Tay, I—”

⸻

A sharp jolt rips him back to reality.

His body is on fire.

His throat is dry, the sheets damp with sweat.

Someone is touching his face, murmuring his name—

“Travis?”

His vision swims.

Taylor is hovering over him, her brows knitted together, worry in her stormy blue eyes.

He wants to say her name, wants to say sorry, wants to reach for her, but his limbs won’t move.

“I think I should call the doctor,” she murmurs, pressing a cool hand to his forehead.

She’s about to leave.

He tries to say stay, but the fever pulls him under again as he tries to fight it—

—

Taylor’s leaving.

She’s standing in her driveway, duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

He watches helplessly from his truck, still in his football jersey, heart pounding.

“You don’t have to go,” he says, his voice hoarse.

She swallows hard. “I do.”

“You belong here,” he blurts out. “With me.”

She exhales shakily. “Travis…”

But then—

She turns away.

And he wakes up.

—

This time, it’s real.

The fever is still raging, but Taylor is here.

She’s perched on the edge of the bed, eyes wide with worry, not leaving.

He exhales, heavy and shaky, squeezing her hand.

“You stayed.”

Her lips curve into a gentle smile. “Of course I did.”

For a long moment, neither of them speak. The weight of exhaustion, of past and present, lingers between them.

Then Travis swallows, his throat raw. “I’m sorry.”

Taylor’s fingers twitch against his. “For what?”

“For… all of it.” His voice is rough, like it’s scraping against something jagged inside him. “For the past. For the way I used to be. I never wanted you to feel like… like you weren’t special.”

Taylor’s breath catches, and she looks away for a second, blinking hard. Then she exhales slowly.

“It’s not the number, Travis.” Her voice is quiet but firm. “It’s not even about you, not really. It’s about how it’s always like this. How men get to live their lives without a second thought, but the moment a woman has even an ounce of agency over her own body, she’s dragged through the mud for it. I was called a slut before I even had sex. People were obsessed with who I was fucking when the answer was no one. And when I finally did, when I’d been with, what, three men? I was not only a slut. I was a ‘ran through.’”

Travis’s jaw clenches, his grip tightening on her hand. “That’s fucking disgusting.”

Taylor lets out a sharp breath, nodding. “It’s not just me. It’s every woman. We’re either too pure or too promiscuous, and there’s no in-between. We’re supposed to be sexy, but not too sexy. Desirable, but not desiring. And the second we take control of our own narratives—our own bodies—it’s like the world decides we don’t deserve respect anymore.”

She scoffs, shaking her head. “And the worst part? It’s still happening. We fight, we push back, but the double standards never really go away. Women still get shamed for things that men are celebrated for. A guy has a past, and it’s just that—a past. A woman has one, and suddenly she’s ‘damaged.’ It’s exhausting. And it’s bullshit.”

Travis is silent for a moment, his hand gripping hers like he can hold her together with it. Then, in a low, rough voice, he says, “You’re right. And it’s not fucking fair.”

Taylor lets out a breath, some of the tension easing, but not all of it. “It never has been.”

She gives him a sad, knowing look. “It’s just the way it is. A man can sleep with hundreds of women, and no one cares. It’s not a conversation. But a woman? One bad breakup, one new boyfriend too soon, and suddenly, she’s reckless. She’s desperate. She’s something to whisper about, to shame.”

Travis stays quiet for a beat, like he’s absorbing all of it, feeling the weight of it the way she has her whole life. Then, finally, he says, “You’re right. I hate that it’s still like this.”

Taylor lets out a breath, some of the tension easing, but not all of it.

Travis shifts, his body protesting, but he ignores it. He cups her cheek, thumb brushing softly against her skin.

Taylor swallows, eyes flickering over his face.

“I need you to know something.” His voice is low, steady. “My past? I didn’t know what I was looking for before, but I know what I found with you.” His thumb traces along her cheekbone, gaze never leaving hers. “And I swear, Tay, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I never will.”

Something in her expression softens, and this time, when she exhales, it feels like some of the weight lifts off her shoulders.

She squeezes his hand, giving him a small, tired smile. “I know.”

His grip tightens, like he never wants to let go. “Good.”

His grip on her hand tightens. “It is different,” he rasps. “You have to know that.”

She exhales slowly. “I do,” she murmurs. “I just—sometimes I need to hear it.”

Travis shifts, his body protesting, but he ignores it. He cups her cheek, thumb brushing softly against her skin.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Tay.” His voice is low, steady. “Not once. I didn’t know it could be like this.”

She leans into his touch, her own hand covering his.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way she squeezes his hand and gives him a soft smile tells him she believes him.

His body is heavy, exhaustion dragging him back under, but this time, he doesn’t fight it.

As his eyes slip closed, one final thought settles deep in his bones.

You belong with me. You always have, and you always will Taylor. It just took us a while to find each other.

Chapter Text

Taylor’s POV

March 2024

Taylor caught her reflection in the mirror and bit back a satisfied smile. Yeah, she looked hot.

The dress was short—too short, probably—but that was half the fun. Silky black, clinging in all the right places, thin straps leaving her shoulders bare, the hem flirting dangerously high on her thighs. She’d paired it with sharp heels and a glossy red lip, just for the hell of it.

She wasn’t trying to kill Travis. But, well… if that happened, so be it.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel anxious.

It wasn’t that the weight was completely gone—she knew better than to think it worked like that—but tonight, it felt lighter. Manageable. The intrusive thoughts that had been clawing at her chest for weeks had quieted, retreating into the background.

And then—

“Jesus fuck, baby.”

His voice was rough behind her, already wrecked, and all she’d done was exist in the same room as him.

Taylor smirked as she met his gaze in the mirror. He was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, freshly showered, towel slung low on his hips, looking very much alive after spending the last two days on death’s door with some 48-hour flu.

Apparently, he was feeling better.

She arched a brow. “You good?”

“No.” His voice was rough, strained, like he was barely holding on. Then he was moving, towel forgotten, hands finding her hips, warm and big and possessive as he dragged her back against him.

She barely had time to react before his mouth was on her neck, breath hot against her skin. “You look so fucking hot,” His fingers skimmed the hem of her dress, gripping the fabric like he was considering ripping it clean off her. “Baby, I’m gonna die if I don’t fuck you first.”

A shiver ran down her spine, but she bit back a smile. “Oh, you’ll survive.”

Travis growled. Actually growled.

“Not a chance,” he muttered, his hands already roaming, squeezing, his entire body vibrating with need.

Taylor turned in his arms, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, jaw tight, barely restraining himself.

“You’re feeling better, then?” she teased, nails dragging lightly down his chest.

“Better,” he agreed, voice low and rough. “But I’ll be great once I’ve got you on that bed, spread the fuck out for me—”

She gasped as he lifted her effortlessly, manhandling her onto the mattress, his weight pressing her into the sheets.

And god, she wanted it.

It had been two days. Two whole days of keeping her hands to herself, of taking care of him while he was sick, of having to wait—and now he was better, and hard as fucking steel beneath her, and she wanted it.

But—

She pushed at his chest. “Travis.”

He groaned. “Baby, come on—”

“We have to go.”

He pulled back just enough to glare at her. “Do we, though?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip, already regretting her own decision. “It’s Ed’s party, and I want to go.”

He groaned again, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing hard. “I hate Ed.”

She laughed. “You do not.”

“Okay, well, I hate this.” His hand slid up her thigh, fingers toying with the hem of her dress. “Leaving when I should be fucking you instead.”

Her whole body clenched at that, heat pooling low in her belly.

Fuck.

Taylor rolled out of his reach—because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t stop. “Later.”

Travis exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut like it physically pained him to let her go.

Then, finally—“Fine.”

But when she stood, adjusting the hem of her dress, she didn’t miss the way his gaze followed her. Dark. Hungry.

Yeah.

This was gonna be fun.

—-

Taylor loved Ed Sheeran.

Loved him in the kind of way that came from late-night songwriting, stupid inside jokes, and the kind of friendship that never wavered no matter how busy life got.

Which was why she felt bad arriving late.

The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived.

Ed’s Bel-Air house was packed with people—musicians, actors, industry types—but Taylor barely got two steps inside before she was enveloped in a bear hug.

“You look incredible, love.”

She grinned, pulling back to find Ed beaming at her. “And you too,” she teased.

“Didn’t have to try,” he said with a wink.

He squeezed her tight before stepping back, his eyes flicking to Travis. “Good to see you, mate.”

“Good to see you too,” Travis said, reaching out to clasp his hand.

Cherry appeared at Taylor’s side then, slipping an arm around her. “Come on, let’s get you two a drink.”

A few minutes later, they were tucked into a quiet corner of the room, drinks in hand, catching up like old friends. Taylor laughed as Ed launched into a ridiculous story about a songwriting session gone wrong, while Cherry leaned in, nudging her with an amused grin.

“You two look disgustingly in love,” Cherry teased, eyes flicking between them.

Taylor rolled her eyes fondly. “We’re just happy.”

“As you should be,” Ed said, lifting his glass toward Travis. “She deserves someone who adores her.”

Travis grinned, his arm draped around Taylor’s waist. “Believe me, man. She’s got that.”

They chatted a little longer, sipping their drinks, the familiar comfort of longtime friendship settling around them. Then Cherry touched Taylor’s arm, eyes sparkling.

“Come with me,” she said. “I want you to meet some friends.”

Travis squeezed Taylor’s waist, dropping a quick kiss to her temple. “Don’t be long, babe.”

Taylor smirked, setting her drink down before following Cherry—

And then froze.

Because Harry Styles was walking straight toward her.

And he was drunk.

Not sloppy, but loose—his curls a little wild, his smile slow and easy, the way he got when he’d had just enough to make everything feel a little more golden.

And Taylor didn’t have time to dodge before he was right in front of her.

“Taylor Swift,” Harry drawled, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Taylor swallowed. Shit.

“Hey, Harry.”

His eyes swept over her—lingering at the curve of her hips, the hem of her tiny dress, the dip of her neckline, her long legs. He let out a low chuckle. “You look unreal, darling.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “You’re drunk.”

“Just a little.” He tilted his head, his gaze dragging over her like he was peeling back layers. “You here alone?”

She opened her mouth—to tell him, actually, my six-foot-five NFL boyfriend is literally right over there—but Harry was already looping an arm around her shoulder.

“Come sit with me,” he murmured, guiding her toward one of the plush couches in the corner.

Taylor hesitated for a split second but then sighed, giving Cherry an apologetic wave. She could handle Harry.

Could handle the way he was looking at her like she was a damn memory he was trying to bring back to life.

She turned her head slightly, just enough to see Travis standing across the room, still talking to Ed—but his eyes were locked on them.

On Harry.

His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, his drink gripped too hard in his hand.

Dark.

Possessive.

And fuck if that didn’t send a thrill straight through her.

—-

Taylor could handle the way Harry’s fingers skimmed the bare skin of her thigh as he leaned in, voice low. “It’s been a while Taylor….”

She remembered his hands in her hair, his mouth against her neck, the way he’d whispered, we shouldn’t, even as neither of them stopped.

Harry smiled at her like he knew.

Like he could still feel the echoes of her against his skin.

His fingers dragged higher on her thigh—

And then suddenly, Travis was there.

Towering over them.

Expression dark, jaw tight, as he reached for Taylor, gripping her waist—

And then pulled her straight onto his lap.

Harry blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh.”

Taylor swallowed. Shit.

“Hey, baby,” Travis murmured against her temple, his grip iron-clad around her waist.

Harry leaned back, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Didn’t realize you had company, love.”

Taylor glanced at him, but he was already watching Travis.

Watching the way his fingers pressed into her hips, the way he was practically daring him to say something.

Taylor rolled her eyes at the mischievous glint in Harry’s gaze as he handed them both a shot glass. “Come on, love, for old time’s sake.”

Travis took the one Harry offered him, shaking his head but grinning. “You just want an excuse to get me drunk.”

“Maybe,” Harry smirked, his gaze dragging over him just a little too slow, a little too appreciative. “Not my fault you’re a rather striking man, Kelce.”

Taylor snorted, tipping back her shot, the tequila burning smooth down her throat. “You always did have a thing for blondes,” she teased.

Harry laughed, his dimples flashing. “And you always had a thing for bad drivers.”

Taylor nearly choked on her drink, laughing despite herself. “Oh my god, are you actually admitting you were terrible?”

Harry put a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “I prefer the term ‘recklessly adventurous.’”

Travis chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t you, like, crash a snowmobile?”

“Minor mishap,” Harry said smoothly.

“Into a fence,” Taylor corrected, smirking. “While trying to show off.”

“Oh, and let’s not forget when you bailed on me for a party on Richard Branson’s island,” she added, eyes glinting.

Harry had the audacity to grin, unrepentant. “You could’ve come with me, love.”

—-

Back then, it had been Harry.

But now it was Travis.

And she liked it.

Liked the way Travis’s fingers tightened slightly on her shoulder, the way his gaze never wavered, the way she didn’t have to be anything but exactly who she was with him.

No pretending. No chasing. No acid rock or mega yachts or important men who thought important thoughts.

Taylor scoffed, but before she could retort, Travis leaned in, eyes dark with something unreadable. “So you ditched my girl to go party on a billionaire’s yacht?”

Harry arched a brow, gaze flicking between them, before his lips curled. “Wasn’t your girl back then, mate.”

Travis just hummed, tipping back another shot, but his grip on Taylor’s thigh tightened slightly, like he was staking his claim without words.

Harry clocked it, of course—because he was observant, and because he loved pushing buttons. “Relax, Kelce,” he said, teasing but deliberate. “You’ve clearly got the upper hand now.” He leaned back, grinning devilishly. “I mean, you’re dating Taylor, mate. Bit of a dream scenario.”

Travis’s lips twitched, but his eyes stayed dark and knowing. “Yeah,” he agreed, easy but firm. “It is.”

The tequila burned warm and sweet as it slid down Taylor’s throat, her laughter bubbling up as she set the shot glass down with a sharp clink. “That’s three,” she said, voice teasing, eyes flicking between Travis and Harry. “And I’m still standing. You two keeping up?”

Travis smirked, leaning into the sofa, eyes dark and lazy as they trailed down her bare legs. “Oh, I’m keeping up, baby.”

Harry hummed, swirling the lime wedge between his fingers before tossing it into his mouth. “You always did have a thing for English boys,” he mused, smirking as he chewed. “First me, then Tom, Matty, Joe…”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Travis isn’t English.”

“No, but he’s got that cheeky charm,” Harry countered, lips twitching as he turned to Travis. “Maybe that’s why she likes you.”

Travis let out a low laugh, knocking back another shot like it was nothing. “Nah, she likes me ‘cause I’m six-five, built like a tank, and know exactly how to—”

“Alright!” Taylor cut in quickly, cheeks warm, reaching over to shove at his chest. “That’s enough tequila truth-telling for you.”

Harry snickered, leaning closer, clearly enjoying himself. “No, no, go on, mate,” he encouraged. “Tell me more about how you stole my ex-girlfriend with your—what was it?—tank-like build?”

Travis cocked his head, feigning deep thought. “I mean, I’d say it’s more about the personality. But…” He turned, giving Taylor a slow, knowing look. “The rest doesn’t hurt.”

Taylor pressed her lips together, fighting a smirk, before shaking her head. “You’re both idiots.”

Harry leaned forward “Y’remember Park City?” he murmured.

Taylor’s breath hitched.

Because of course she remembered Utah.

—-
Park city, Utah

December 2012

The hot tub bubbled around them, the steam thick in the cold night air. Taylor stretched her arms above her head, her muscles aching from a full day of skiing. She was still getting the hang of it, but Harry had stayed close to her all day, helping her with little touches—a hand on her waist, fingers brushing against hers when she wobbled. It was all new, this thing between them. Just a few weeks in. But she liked it.

Loved it, actually.

She stole a glance at him now, reclined in the bubbling water, his wet curls pushed back, champagne glass dangling from his fingers.

Selena sighed, melting further into Justin’s lap as his hands trailed lazily up and down her sides, fingertips barely skimming her damp skin. She shivered, but not from the cold. Just from him.

“I swear, this is the best part of skiing,” she murmured, tilting her head back against his shoulder. “The hot tub afterward.”

Justin hummed, his lips brushing the curve of her jaw, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. Like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing than touching her, kissing her, worshipping her. “And the part where I get to warm you up later.”

Selena giggled, shifting so she was practically straddling him now, her hands resting on his shoulders, her body pressed close. Their breath mingled in the crisp winter air, her nose pink from the cold, but her eyes—God, her eyes—were warm, melting, glowing.

“God, you’re obsessed with me,” she teased, running her fingers through the damp curls at the nape of his neck.

Justin grinned against her skin, his voice low, certain. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Taylor made a little sound, part amusement, part secondhand embarrassment. “Do you guys ever stop?”

Selena turned then, eyes twinkling, a smug, thrilled kind of love radiating from her. “Jealous?”

Taylor huffed a laugh. “Not even a little.”

Harry stretched his arms along the edge of the hot tub, smirking. “I might be, though,” he teased, tilting his head at Justin and Selena. “You lot are making me look bad.”

Justin didn’t even look away from Selena. Didn’t acknowledge the joke, didn’t so much as blink. His thumb traced slow circles against her hip, his gaze locked on hers, something deeper passing between them.

Like the rest of the world had blurred out completely.

Like there was only ever her.

Selena grinned, suddenly sitting up. “Okay, I’m bored. Truth or dare.”

Taylor groaned. “Oh no.”

Selena pointed at her. “You first. Truth or dare?”

Taylor hesitated, then sighed. “Truth.”

Selena wiggled her brows. “Alright, Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Have you ever snuck out of your parents’ house?”

Taylor blinked. “Uh. No?”

Justin burst out laughing. “No way. You haven’t?”

Taylor crossed her arms. “I was a good kid, okay?”

Selena shook her head. “That’s so cute.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but her cheeks heated. “Whatever. Next question.”

Harry smirked. “Alright, Bieber. Truth or dare?”

Justin leaned back, looking relaxed. “Truth.”

Harry’s grin turned wicked. “Who was your first time with?”

The group erupted into laughter and groans, a mix of anticipation and secondhand embarrassment. Selena let out a soft gasp, smacking Justin’s chest. “Oh my God, you don’t have to answer that.”

Justin just smirked, shrugging. “It was with Selena.”

Selena’s eyes widened before she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s so embarrassing.”

Justin kissed her cheek. “Why? It was perfect.”

Selena wrinkled her nose, but the small smile on her lips said she didn’t hate the memory.

Justin’s gaze turned serious for a moment as he looked helplessly at Selena. “You’re my first and my only. You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”

Harry let out a low whistle. “Bieber, you’re a sentimental one.”

Justin just grinned kissing Selena’s neck. “Guilty.”

Taylor shook her head, laughing. “Okay, next victim before this gets even more awkward.”

The game continued, the champagne flowing, everyone a little looser, a little tipsier then Harry turned to Justin. “Truth or dare?”

Justin smirked. “Dare.”

Selena and Taylor exchanged a glance, then Selena’s grin turned wicked. “Okay babe, run naked through the snow and get us another bottle of champagne.”

Taylor gasped. “Selena!”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Bloody hell.”

Justin shrugged, looking unbothered. “I’d do it.”

Selena turned to him, eyes twinkling. “Oh? Then why don’t you do it?”

Justin lifted his brows. “Bet?”

Selena smirked. “Bet.”

Before anyone could react, Justin was already standing up, water cascading off his bare chest. He hooked his fingers into his swim trunks and pulled them down, tossing them onto the snow-dusted deck.

Taylor shrieked, covering her eyes. “Oh my God!”

Selena cackled, watching with absolutely no shame as Justin took off in the snow, completely bare. “Run, baby!”

Harry sat up so fast he nearly sloshed champagne onto himself, eyes widening. “Bloody hell.” His gaze flickered down—lingered—before he dragged it back up, looking vaguely horrified with himself.

Selena just sipped her champagne, unfazed.

Taylor peeked through her fingers as Justin disappeared inside the cabin, yelping at the cold. “Selena, you are evil.”

Selena shrugged. “What? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Harry blew out a breath, eyes still glued to the spot where Justin had just been. “Your boyfriend’s properly hung, isn’t he?”

Selena beamed, entirely too pleased. “I know.”

Taylor groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I hate all of you.”

Moments later, Justin sprinted back outside, bottle in hand, his entire body flushed from the cold. He dove into the hot tub, still naked, splashing all of them. “That,” he gasped, “was fucking freezing.”

Harry, still looking vaguely shell-shocked, took a long, long sip of his drink.

Selena cheered, wrapping herself around him. “You did it!”

Justin kissed her, grinning against her lips. “You dared me. Of course I did it.”

Harry just shook his head, laughing. “You Americans are mental.”

Selena winked. “You love it.”

The game continued, the champagne flowing, everyone a little looser, a little tipsier.

Then—

Selena turned to Harry, eyes gleaming. “Okay, Harry. Truth or dare?”

Harry arched a brow. “Truth.”

Selena leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

The hot tub went silent.

Harry’s gaze flicked to Taylor, then back to Selena. He tapped his fingers against his glass, thoughtful. “Not yet.”

Justin grinned. “Would you?”

Harry smirked. “Maybe.”

Selena clapped her hands. “Perfect. Kiss Justin.”

Taylor’s stomach flipped. “Oh.”

Justin lifted his brows. “You up for it, Styles?”

Harry studied him for a moment, then—without hesitation—leaned in.

It was slow, teasing—Harry’s fingers gripping Justin’s jaw, tilting his head as their lips met. The kiss deepened, becoming hotter by the second. Justin’s hand slid up Harry’s chest, his lips parting slightly as Harry groaned low in his throat. Taylor’s breath caught, her eyes wide as she watched.

Selena was completely unfazed, her gaze filled with amusement as she sipped her champagne. “Oh, hell yeah.”

When they pulled apart, Harry licked his lips, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad, Bieber.”

Justin let out a breath, looking almost smug. “Yeah. Damn.”

Selena leaned in to kiss Justin again, her fingers threading into his wet hair. “That was hot.”

Taylor blinked, still processing the kiss, the heat of the moment leaving her a little dazed. She glanced over at Harry, who was laughing, clearly amused by the whole situation.

Selena laughed, then turned to Taylor. “Your turn, Swift. Truth or dare?”

Taylor hesitated. “Uh… dare.”

Justin smirked. “Kiss Selena.”

Taylor blinked. “Wait—what?”

Selena just smiled, leaning in. “Only if you want to.”

Taylor’s heart pounded. She’d never kissed a girl before.

But… why not?

She tilted forward, pressing her lips to Selena’s. It was soft, sweet, tasting like champagne. She pulled back laughing.

Justin groaned. “Best night ever.”

Selena pulled back, licking her lips. “Not bad, Taylor.”

Taylor swallowed, cheeks burning. “Yeah. Not bad at all.”

Selena giggled, but then Justin was pulling her against him, his hands gripping her bare waist, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that made Taylor’s stomach flip. The kiss turned desperate, all tongues and soft gasps, Justin’s hands roaming beneath the water, squeezing, kneading. He shifted them back toward the edge of the hot tub with an ease that made it obvious he’d done this before.

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Are they seriously—?”

Harry exhaled a laugh, draping an arm lazily behind her. “Oh yeah.”

Selena let out a soft moan, melting into Justin as he hauled her onto his lap. Her head tipped back, lips parting on a shaky sigh as he kissed down her throat, his hands gripping her thighs, spreading them wider. The water sloshed around them, disguising nothing.

Justin groaned, muttering something low and dirty against her skin before lifting her, pressing her back against the ledge. Her legs locked around his waist, and the way she gasped—sharp and breathless—left no doubt about what was happening.

Taylor squeaked, completely flustered, gripping Harry’s arm. “Okay! Maybe time for us to go!”

Harry just grinned, swirling his champagne lazily. “Or we could stay and take notes.”

Taylor gasped but started laughing, smacking his arm. “Harry!”

He just laughed, pulling her closer, his breath warm against her ear.

They slipped back inside the cabin, the heat of the hot tub still clinging to their skin, the lights casting everything in a soft, golden glow. Snow drifted outside, silent and endless.

And Taylor had the strangest feeling—like this night, these moments, would stay with her forever.

—-
Present

Taylor’s cheeks flushed as she looked at him. Travis watched them both, heated and curious.

Harry smirked, swirling his drink, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know,” he mused, tilting his head. “This isn’t the first time I’ve watched you get all flustered, love.”

Taylor stiffened, eyes widening slightly. “Harry.”

Travis’s brows shot up. His interest piqued immediately, his gaze flicking between them. “Oh?” he drawled, leaning in. “Now that sounds like a story.”

Harry chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Mmm. Let’s just say… I’ve seen some things.” He shot Taylor a knowing look, and her blush deepened.

Travis looked at her, eyes dark with intrigue. “Oh, we’re definitely circling back to that later.”

Taylor huffed, but the way Travis was looking at her sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

Harry grinned, the flush in his cheeks more from the alcohol than embarrassment. He tilted his head, gaze flicking between them. “You know,” he mused, eyes twinkling. “The two of you together… I can’t even be mad. You make sense.”

Taylor’s teasing expression softened for a beat, her heart kicking at the sincerity in his voice.

Travis, though, never one to let a moment settle too long, shot Harry a cocky grin. “Damn right we do.”

Harry just laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll drink to that.”

Another round of shots later, Taylor felt the warmth of alcohol humming through her veins, everything tinged with a soft, golden blur. She was tipsy, lightheaded, and when she glanced at Travis, the way he was watching her—hungry, possessive, already undressing her in his mind—sent a thrill straight through her.

For a moment, there was a charge in the air—something heady, electric, the lingering embers of old flames and new, undeniable attraction.

Then Harry grinned, shaking his head, and clinked his shot glass to Travis’s. “Well, try not to fuck it up. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes I did last time. ” he said lightly, but his gaze flickered just enough to let Travis know it wasn’t entirely a joke.

Travis didn’t blink. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

And just like that, Taylor felt the shift in the air—the teasing edge to the conversation wasn’t just flirtation anymore. It was something else entirely.

Harry just smirked. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then, yeah? Unless there’s a hot tub you want to go check out?”

Taylor laughed but didn’t respond—just grabbed Travis’ hand, pulling him toward the back of the house.

Because fuck, that had been a lot.

She reached the patio doors, pushed them open, and stepped into the cool night air.

Travis followed.

She locked the door behind them.

His hands were already on her.

“Baby,” she murmured, gasping as he spun her to face him.

You were real friendly with Harry back there,” Travis murmured, voice low, dark, dangerous in that way that sent a shiver through her.

Travis—” she started, but then his fingers slid higher, under her short dress, pushing her panties to the side, finding her dripping, and she whimpered, hips tilting toward him.

He let out a low, dark groan, pressing his forehead to hers. “Jesus, baby,” he murmured, his fingers stroking through the slick heat between her thighs. “You’re soaked.”

Taylor exhaled shakily, gripping his shoulders. “Yeah.”

His fingers stilled for half a second, and then he let out a filthy groan, pushing a thick finger deeper, rubbing slow, so good she shuddered.

“You like him looking at you, baby?” he rasped, teasing but possessive, his breath hot against her ear. “Did that get you this wet? Or was it thinking about dragging me out here and making you mine?”

She smirked, eyes hazy but challenging. “Who says I was thinking about you?”

Travis let out a low, rough laugh, his fingers moving faster, punishingly good, sending heat spiraling through her. She gasped, gripping him tighter, helpless against him.

“That’s cute,” he murmured, biting at her jaw, then licking over the sting. “But you and I both know I’m the only one who gets you like this.” His thumb brushed over her just right, making her arch. “Harry ever have you shaking like this, baby?”

She moaned, biting her lip, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You’re so cocky,” she panted.

Travis smirked, fingers stroking deeper, dragging her higher. “Nah, baby. I’m just right.”

Taylor let out a breathless moan, helpless against him, against what he could do to her. He was right—he was so right—but she wasn’t giving in that easily.

She dragged her nails down his back, arching into him, her mouth brushing over his ear. “Maybe I should let him watch,” she whispered, her voice pure sin. “Let him see how good you fuck me with your fingers. Let him see who really makes me come.”

“Fuck, that’s hot baby. Bet he thought he could still have you,” Travis murmured, nipping at her neck. “Bet he looked at you and thought about all the ways he fucked up. Maybe he was thinkin’ about all the ways he could win you back.”

She whimpered as he stroked deeper, his fingers pressing just right, building the tension inside her unbearably.

“But he can’t,” Travis continued, his voice thick with satisfaction. “He lost. And now he gets to watch me walk you outta here, knowing exactly what I’m gonna do to you when I get you home.”

Her breath hitched, nails digging into his arms.

Travis smirked, dragging his lips over her skin. “Bet he thinks about it, though.” He kissed just below her ear, nipping lightly. “Bet he was watching you tonight, remembering what it was like. Wishing he could have you again.”

Taylor gasped as he worked her faster, pushing her higher. “Travis—”

His other hand slid up, gripping her waist, holding her in place as she started to shake. “You know you’re right. Maybe we should let him see,” he whispered, his fingers unrelenting, his breath hot against her ear. “Let him watch me sink my cock into your pussy, let him see exactly who you belong to.”

Taylor let out a desperate, breathless moan, her whole body trembling, her fingers twisting in his shirt. “Travis, please—”

“Please what, baby?” He smirked against her skin, dragging his teeth along her jaw, as he pushed another thick finger inside her. “You want me to make you cum while he’s inside, wondering if you’re thinking about him?” His fingers worked her ruthlessly, pushing her right to the edge. “Or should I make you scream my name so he knows?”

Taylor started shaking as his finger circled her clit as his two thick fingers pumped in and out of her, slick obscene noises making him groan.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice thick with possession. “Let go. Let me feel it.”

And then she shattered, her whole body trembling, her moan swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her deep, drinking her in, owning her. His fingers slowed, teasing her through it, pushing every last drop of pleasure from her.

When she finally sagged against him, dazed and breathless, he grinned, dragging his fingers through the evidence of what he’d done to her. “So fuckin’ pretty when you come for me,” he murmured.

Travis groaned, pulling back just enough to catch her dazed expression, his fingers still teasing as she trembled through the aftershocks. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and possession. “Mine.”

Taylor let out a soft, shuddery breath, blinking up at him, her lips parted, her face still flushed. Then, her mouth curved into a smirk.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered, voice wrecked but teasing. “So you can really prove it.”

—-

Inside, Harry stood with a drink in hand, watching as Taylor pulled Travis toward the car, their laughter drifting through the night, light and unburdened. It was so easy for them, so right. The way she leaned into him, the way he steadied her without a thought.

Harry could have had that.

He took a slow sip, letting the burn of alcohol settle in his chest, but it did nothing to quiet the ache. He knew it was for the best, that he’d never given her what she needed. Taylor was right. He had taken too much, expecting Taylor to keep giving when he never knew how to give back.

He could still hear her voice—sad but certain—when she told him she couldn’t be his friend.

So he paid the price for what he lost—and what it cost.

Now that they don’t talk.

And yet, he couldn’t look away. From her. From them.

It should have made him jealous, bitter. It didn’t. The ache in his chest wasn’t about wanting her back. It was about wanting her, still. Wanting him, too. The sharp edges, the softness, the way they fit together, the way he could almost see where he’d fit too—if things were different.

If he hadn’t ruined it.

If he hadn’t lost her.

If he could have them both.

Tastes so sweet, looks so real…

But he couldn’t touch what he saw.

She wasn’t his anymore. Maybe she never had been, not really. They weren’t who they used to be. And yet, here he was—just a ghost standing in the place of what could have been, trying to remember how it felt to have a heartbeat.

Chapter Text

I can do it with a broken heart

Travis POV
Feb 2024

Travis stirred awake slowly, the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. His body still felt heavy with sleep, but as his eyes adjusted, he felt Taylor’s warmth beside him. The past few weeks had been difficult for her, and he could sense her anxiety building beneath her usual calm exterior. He’d been holding onto a quiet worry, unsure how to help her through it, but this moment with her was everything he needed—calming, grounding, and perfect.

But then, like it always did, that gnawing guilt crept in.

He wished he could go back and rewrite parts of his life—erase the moments that now made him ashamed, that made her look at him with that flicker of hesitation she tried so hard to hide. He could still picture her face the night he told her his number, the way she had swallowed hard, nodding slowly like she was trying not to let it show that it hurt.

And fuck, it killed him to see that.

He had never thought twice about his past before. He was young, single, successful—he did what plenty of guys in his position would. And he never had to think about it until now, until he found himself next to a woman who had been scrutinized, humiliated, ripped apart for every man she had ever so much as looked at. And yet, here he was, sitting on a history he wished he could undo—not because he thought it made him a bad person, but because he hated the way it made her feel.

He would have done it all differently if he had known he’d end up here—with her.

She stirred beside him, shifting closer, and he forced himself to push those thoughts away.

“Good morning,” Taylor whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. Her voice was gentle, teasing even. “Let me go down on you?”

Travis huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. God, he loved her.

Travis smiled softly, his hand instinctively brushing through her hair. “You’re something else, you know that?” he murmured, pulling her closer. “But… are you sure? You’ve been quiet lately. I’ve been worried.”

Taylor’s soft laugh escaped her lips, a delicate sound that melted into the quiet intimacy between them. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice steady but carrying a playful undertone. “You worry too much.” She leaned in, her lips brushing his with a teasing slowness that made his chest tighten.

Travis’s chuckle rumbled low, his eyes darkening as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky rasp. His hand trailed down her side, fingers grazing her skin just beneath the hem of her shirt, lingering as though savoring every inch. “And ridiculously hot.”

Taylor’s lips curved into a knowing smile, but instead of answering, she shifted lower, her fingers dragging slowly down his stomach, her nails teasing the defined lines of muscle. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was barely holding himself together, and she reveled in it, in the power she had over him.

“Tay,” Travis rasped, his voice thick with need, his fingers curling into the sheets.

She didn’t respond—she just pressed a kiss to his hip, then another, trailing a slow path downward, her breath warm against his skin. His abs flexed beneath her touch, his body reacting before he could stop it, and when she finally wrapped her hand around him, stroking him with deliberate slowness, a sharp groan tore from his throat.

She took her time, teasing him with featherlight touches, watching the way his body tensed, the way his chest rose and fell unevenly. He was already unraveling, already wrecked, and she hadn’t even started yet.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered her mouth to him, her lips parting, her tongue flicking over the sensitive tip before she took him deeper.

Travis sucked in a breath, his head falling back against the pillow as his fingers flexed at his sides.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice raw.

Taylor hummed against him, the vibration sending a shudder through his entire body. She took him deeper, her mouth hot and wet around him, her tongue swirling in slow, teasing strokes. Her hands weren’t idle, one gripping his thigh while the other stroked what her lips didn’t take, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that had him cursing under his breath.

His fingers found her hair, threading through the soft waves, his grip tightening when she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him in deeper.

“Jesus,” he exhaled, his hips twitching involuntarily.

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, and it nearly undid him. She was so fucking beautiful, so confident in what she was doing, and the sight of her like this—lips stretched around him, eyes filled with mischief and intent—was almost too much.

She took him to the back of her throat, swallowing around him, and a sharp groan ripped from his chest, his muscles tightening beneath her. She stayed like that for a moment, letting him feel everything, before pulling back with a slow, wet drag of her lips, her tongue flicking over him one last time before she took him in again, setting a punishing pace that had his vision going white at the edges.

“Tay,” he groaned, his voice wrecked. “Baby, I—”

She didn’t stop. If anything, she doubled down, her hand stroking him in time with her mouth, her tongue swirling over him, sucking him in deep until his entire body locked up, his breath catching in his throat.

With a low, guttural groan, he came, his release hitting hard, his fingers gripping her hair as pleasure crashed over him in waves. She didn’t pull away, didn’t falter—she took everything he gave her, swallowing around him, milking him for every last drop until he was nothing but a trembling mess beneath her.

His chest heaved as she finally pulled back, licking her lips as she moved up his body, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw.

Travis let out a shaky breath, his hands finding her waist, pulling her into him as he tried to gather himself, her cheeks were a deep, rosy red, her lips parted as she caught her breath. Travis stared at her like she was the only thing in the universe, his hand reaching up to gently cup her face. “Taylor…” he whispered, his voice raw and unsteady. “That… that was incredible.”

She smiled down at him, her fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest. “I’m flattered. You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her voice light yet full of affection.

His gaze softened, a grin tugging at his lips. “Not so bad?” he repeated, his hand slipping into her hair to pull her down into another kiss. “I’ll take it… for now.”

Taylor gave him a hesitant, almost shy smile, leaning up to kiss him again. But as his fingers brushed softly down her side, she stiffened slightly, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. Her hands trembled slightly against his chest, and she took a deep breath. “I… I’m on my period.”

Travis paused, his brow furrowing—not in annoyance, but in concern. “Okay,” he said gently, his voice steady and warm. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his hand stilling on her waist. “If you’re not feeling up to it, that’s fine. No pressure.”

Taylor bit her lip, her gaze darting away before reluctantly returning to his. “It’s not that,” she admitted, her voice wavering. “I actually… I crave sex even more when I’m on my period.” Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she immediately dropped her eyes, ashamed of the vulnerability in her admission.

Travis tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “You crave it more?” he echoed, his tone soft, coaxing her to continue.

She nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “I don’t know why, but… when I’m with you, it’s like I can’t help it. I want you all the time, and when I’m on my period, it’s worse.” She exhaled shakily. “But I try to avoid it—being with you when I’m on my period.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she dropped her gaze again, vulnerability raw in her expression. “I’ve been… making sure I only get my period when I’m not with you,” she admitted in a rush, her voice trembling. “Just in case. But I messed up with the pill this time. I didn’t want to—”

Travis’s brows furrowed, this time in surprise. “Wait, you’ve been timing it so I don’t have to deal with your period?” His head tilted slightly, confusion evident. “Why would you do that?”

Taylor hesitated, then nodded, her shoulders sagging. “I thought you might think it was gross or too much. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

For a moment, there was silence, her heart pounding in the quiet. Then Travis shook his head, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping him. “Taylor,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “you’re seriously worried about that?” He cupped her face in his large hands, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks as if to steady her. “There’s nothing gross about you. Not a damn thing.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her breath hitching at the warmth in his voice. “I just… didn’t want to not be with you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want to lose this time with you.”

Travis leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re not losing me. Ever. I don’t care if it’s messy, emotional, or whatever. You’re mine, Taylor. Period or not. You’ve got me.” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s actually driving me crazy to think you’ve wanted me and denied yourself because you thought I’d find it gross.”

Her lips trembled, and she let out a small, shaky laugh. “I just want you,” she whispered. “All the time. I need you.”

“And you’ve got me,” he replied, his voice low and certain. “Every beautiful, incredible part of you.” He kissed her, soft and slow, as though reminding her that no part of her was too much.

Travis’s lips brushed over hers again, unhurried and tender. His hands caressed her with a reverence that sent warmth flooding through her. “Wait,” he murmured softly, pulling back slightly. Taylor blinked up at him, her heart stuttering as he gave her a reassuring smile. Reaching to the side, he grabbed a dark towel, unfolding it with care. “I want you to be comfortable.” His voice was warm and teasing, but his gaze was tender.

Her cheeks warmed at the gesture, her breath catching as he slipped the towel beneath her. He settled back over her, his hands skimming down her sides, firm yet reverent. “Is this okay, baby?” he asked quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Taylor nodded, her breath hitching as his lips trailed along her jaw, down to her collarbone. His kisses were soft, deliberate, each one igniting a fire beneath her skin. When his hand slipped between her thighs, she gasped, her body instinctively arching into his touch. He moved with practiced care, his fingers exploring her gently, as though memorizing every reaction. He wiped his fingers on the towel beside them before leaning back down to kiss her.

“You feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice husky. His hands cupped her breasts, heavier than usual, swollen with sensitivity, making her whimper. “God, these are insane right now,” he groaned, thumbing over her nipples, watching her shudder. “So soft. So huge. So perfect.”

When he lowered his mouth to one, his tongue flicking over the tight peak, she gasped, her body arching into him. He suckled gently, teasing with his teeth just enough to make her cry out. At the same time, his fingers worked her, coaxing her closer until she broke apart with a sharp, desperate moan. He swallowed every sound, holding her as she trembled beneath him, his name a breathless plea on her lips.

He hovered over her, brushing a tender kiss against her jaw. “Can I fuck you?” he asked softly, his voice rough with need, but laced with patience. His hand smoothed over her hip, grounding her as he waited for her response.
Taylor nodded, breathless. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

When he finally eased into her, there was no hesitation, no flicker of discomfort in his expression. Just warmth. Just love. She clenched around him, slick and tight, and he groaned deep in his chest. “Fuck,” he rasped, his forehead dropping against hers. “You feel like heaven, baby.”

Her breath hitched, her fingers digging into his back as he moved inside her, slow and controlled despite the overwhelming pleasure surging through him. Her little gasps, the way she tightened around him—it made him want to lose himself completely. But he didn’t. He stayed steady, reverent, savoring every second. When he finally spilled inside her, his release mixing with the warmth between them, he held her close, pressing kisses into her damp hair.

When the tension broke and pleasure consumed her, Taylor’s body trembled beneath him, a quiet sob escaping her lips as tears spilled down her cheeks. She turned her head, embarrassed, but Travis stopped, his hand gently cupping her face.

“Taylor,” he whispered, his voice thick with concern and love. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, her fingers tightening around his. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s just… I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’m completely safe. Completely loved.”
Travis’s expression softened, his thumb brushing away her tears. “You are safe,” he murmured. “And you are loved. I’ve got you, Taylor. Always.”
He kissed her again, soft and lingering, holding her close as the world faded away.

Afterward, they lay together, breathless. Travis kissed her softly before pulling away. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he murmured. He helped her up, guiding her to the shower, where warm water washed away the remnants of their intimacy. He ran his hands over her gently, washing her with care, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

As she stepped out to take care of herself, before slipping into soft pajamas, he stripped the bed, replacing the sheets with fresh ones before pulling on clean boxers. When she returned, he was waiting for her, a cup of herbal tea on her bedside table.

Travis watched as she took the tea from his hands, a small smile curving her lips. The sight sent a warmth through his chest, something deep and steady. He climbed into bed beside her without hesitation, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her temple.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “Nothing weird. Nothing gross. Just us.”

She exhaled softly, sinking into him like she belonged there. Her fingers traced absent, delicate patterns on his skin, and his hold tightened instinctively.

“Just us,” she whispered back, and the quiet certainty in her voice settled something inside him. Safe. Loved. Completely his.

——

The next morning the cold spring air wrapped around them as they sat quietly on the porch, the distant hum of birds breaking the silence. Taylor sat stiffly, her hands resting in her lap, her eyes fixed on the horizon a smile plastered on her face. Travis watched her carefully, his concern growing with every passing second.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “You okay?”

Taylor nodded, smiling more, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she murmured, though her voice was quieter than usual.

Travis studied her for a moment longer, the worry bubbling in his chest. He wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push just yet. Instead, a memory surfaced—one he hadn’t thought of in a long time.

——
Flashback 2003

In high school, there had been a girl—a popular, beautiful cheerleader with a light that seemed to draw everyone in. She was effortlessly charming, always laughing, always full of life. Travis had admired her, crushed on her, their conversations in passing warm and easy.

But slowly, her laughter began to fade. She became quieter, more distant. Travis noticed, tried to talk to her once, to check if she was okay. But her response had been cold, sharp. “Just stop,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation. “You don’t get it.”

He backed off after that, too afraid to push, too immature to handle the weight of what might have been going on. Days turned into weeks, and soon enough, someone told him she had been taken to the hospital. Her parents moved her away, and he never saw her again.

——
Present

The memory haunted him. He wondered if it was his fault, if he should have said more. And now, sitting beside Taylor as her anxiety hung heavy in the air, he couldn’t help but feel that fear creep back in.

“Taylor,” he said softly, his voice steady but concerned. “Talk to me. Please.”

Travis watched Taylor as she stared out into the cold Kansas spring, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like she was holding something fragile inside. Her profile, so familiar and loved, looked different tonight—tense, almost brittle. The silence stretched between them, and he knew she wasn’t really “fine,” no matter what she’d said earlier.

He didn’t want to push. But the way her shoulders curled inward made his chest ache.

Finally, Taylor’s voice broke through the quiet. “I’ve always had anxiety,” she said, her tone so soft he almost missed it. “For as long as I can remember. It’s like this… buzzing in my chest that never really stops.” She let out a shaky breath. “Most of the time, I’m fine, I can keep it under control. But right now… I can’t.”

Travis’s stomach twisted. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her close. Her head fell to his shoulder, and he felt the tiniest tremor in her frame.

She kept going, her voice steadier now, but he could hear the cracks beneath it. “It’s like… I’m doing everything I’m supposed to. Smiling, laughing, performing, being everything everyone expects. But inside, it’s chaos. I feel like I’m trying to keep all the pieces of myself together, and they just… won’t stay.”

He inhaled deeply, his chest tight with the weight of her words. “You don’t have to do that with me,” he said softly, pressing his lips to her hair. “You don’t have to keep it all together for me, Tay.”

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining but distant. “It’s not just for you. It’s for everyone. For the world. It’s like… I can’t stop, you know? And I’m scared if I slow down, everything will fall apart.”

They were both silent for a long time, Travis trying to process what she had told him.

Finally, Taylor’s voice broke through the quiet. “I’m nervous about the album,” she said, her tone so soft he almost missed it. “Tortured Poets Department... it feels so personal, but what if people don’t get it? What if it flops?” She let out a shaky breath. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just one bad album away from losing everything.”
Travis’s stomach twisted as her words settled in. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her close. Her head fell to his shoulder, and he felt the tiniest tremor in her frame.
She kept going, her voice steadier now, but the cracks beneath it were unmistakable. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. But everything I’ve worked for—everything I’ve built—depends on people liking what I create. And what if this isn’t enough? What if I’m not enough?”
He inhaled deeply, his chest tight with the weight of her words. “Taylor, you are so much more than your albums,” he said firmly, pressing his lips to her hair. “The little I’ve heard of this one? It’s amazing, no doubt about that. But even if it wasn’t—even if it flopped completely—that wouldn’t change how much you’re worth.”
She stayed quiet, her fingers tightening slightly on his hoodie. He softened his tone, speaking gently. “Your music is incredible, yeah, but it’s not the reason people love you. It’s not the reason I love you. You’re brilliant and kind, and you light up every room you’re in, whether there’s a chart-topping song playing or not. Nothing about who you are depends on this album.”
Taylor let out a shaky breath, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “It’s hard not to feel that pressure, though,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” he said softly, kissing her temple. “But you don’t have to carry it alone. I’ve got you, okay? No matter what happens.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, just leaned into him as the spring air chilled her skin. But then she murmured, “Thank you,” and Travis swore he felt a little bit of her light flicker back.

Travis’s chest felt like it was caving in as he held Taylor tighter, her weight pressed against his side. His beautiful, brilliant, sad girlfriend, sitting there in the cold Kansas air, was breaking apart right in front of him.

Her voice, soft and raw, replayed in his mind. “I’m trying to keep all the pieces of myself together, and they just… won’t stay.”
He couldn’t reconcile the image of her like this with the Taylor the world knew. The one who lit up stadiums and smiled through flashing cameras, who looked untouchable, larger than life. But here she was, shattered into pieces she was so desperate to hide. And the fact that she thought she had to—had to keep faking it, even with him—made his heart ache in ways he didn’t know it could.

“You don’t have to hold it together for me, Tay,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I hate that you think you do. I hate that you’ve been carrying this alone.”

Taylor didn’t respond right away. She just leaned against him, her breath uneven as her fingers tightened in his hoodie.

He pressed his lips to her hair, willing her to feel how much he loved her, how much he wanted to carry the weight for her. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to do it all. You don’t have to smile when it hurts this bad.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “Let me help. Please.”

Her silence stretched for a moment, and he almost wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Then she whispered, “I’m just scared, Trav.”

His arms tightened around her, cradling her like she might slip through his fingers. “I know, baby,” he murmured, his own eyes stinging. “But you don’t have to be scared alone. I’m here. For every piece of you. I’ll help you,” he promised, his voice firm but gentle. “Whatever you need, we’ll figure it out together. Therapy, a break—whatever it takes. You’re not alone in this, Tay. I’ve got you.”

She leaned further into him, her hand gripping his hoodie like it was the only thing grounding her. For the first time that night, she let out a breath that didn’t sound like it was caught in her chest. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start. And Travis swore to himself he’d do whatever it took to help her find her light again.

Chapter Text

“And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis
People started talking, putting us through our paces
I knew there was no one in the world who could take it
I had a bad feeling
But we were dancing
Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied
Yeah, we were dancing
Like it was the first time, first time
Yeah, we were dancing
Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied
Yeah, we were dancing
And I had a bad feeling
But we were dancing
I, I loved you in spite of
Deep fears that the world would divide us
So, baby, can we dance
Oh, through an avalanche?
And say, say that we got it
I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted
Oh, 'cause it's gravity
Oh, keeping you with me” Dancing with our hands tied by Taylor Swift

Taylor’s pov

Feb 2024

Taylor had felt like this before.

She had felt anxiety coil tight in her chest, had felt the weight of it make even the simplest tasks unbearable. She had had moments where she thought she was losing herself.

But this was different. This was need.

She couldn’t sleep without him. Every night they were apart, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind spiraling with thoughts she couldn’t quiet. She called him, whispering for him to talk to her until she drifted off, the sound of his voice the only thing that could still the panic in her chest.

She hated it. Hated feeling weak. But she couldn’t stop it.

And she was drinking. Too much. More than she ever had. A glass of wine to take the edge off. Then another. And another.

It wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

So she got on a plane.

The hum of the plane’s engines did nothing to soothe her nerves. Taylor sat stiffly in her seat, a glass of wine clutched tightly in her trembling hand. Her second. Or was it her third? She couldn’t quite remember. The flight felt endless, stretching out every second of her spiraling anxiety.

She stared out the window, the world below blurred by her unfocused gaze. Her thoughts spun around the same orbit: anxiety about the new album, a long-distance relationship, hurting Joe and the disaster that was Matty, then the sharp jab of Pia’s earlier text asking, How are things? Holding up okay? Travis is so strong to be with you.

She hated how much it got to her. Hated how much she felt like she was unraveling. She needed Travis. She needed to see him, touch him, feel his arms around her to know that she wasn’t losing him. The distance between them had become unbearable, the ache in her chest tightening with every mile closer to Kansas City.

But it wasn’t just the distance.

It was that number.

Over a hundred women.

The moment she’d found out, it had felt like the floor dropped out from under her. She knew he’d had a past—of course, he had—but knowing and knowing were two very different things. It made her stomach twist, made her skin feel too tight, made her anxiety spiral in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

She couldn’t stop picturing it.

All of them.

The nameless, faceless women in his past. The ones who had touched him, kissed him, been with him in ways she hadn’t even let herself imagine before. How easily he must have moved on from them. How easily he could—

No.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her temple. She hated that her mind worked like this, hated how it latched onto things and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t fair. Not to Travis, not to herself.

Because he wasn’t with them. He was with her.

She sucked in a shaky breath, fingers tightening around the wine glass in her hand.

She just needed to get to him. To see the way he looked at her, to feel the way he held her. To remind herself that she wasn’t just another woman to him.

That she was it.

That she was enough.

By the time the plane landed at the private terminal, she was desperate. Her breath caught when she saw him standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, concern etched into his face as he watched her shakily descend the steps of the plane.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping forward to wrap her in his arms as she stumbled into them.

The moment his warmth enveloped her, the tension in her shoulders loosened. She pressed her face into his chest, gripping his shirt as if he might vanish.

“Babe,” he murmured, pulling back to look at her. His eyes searched hers, worry laced in his expression. “You okay? You’ve been drinking?”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Just a little. It’s been… hard. I just needed to see you.”

His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “We don’t have to go to this party. We can head back to the house, just us.”

But she shook her head quickly, a little too quickly. “No, I want to go. I need to be with you. Around people. Please.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t push. “Okay,” he said softly, sliding his hand down to lace his fingers with hers. “But if it’s too much, we leave. No arguments.”

She nodded, but deep down, she already knew the evening would test her limits.

---

The party was buzzing with energy. Music pulsed through the room, people laughed and mingled, and Travis never left her side. His hand remained at her back, a steady presence she clung to like a lifeline.

Taylor smiled and nodded at the conversations swirling around her, but her focus remained on him. She felt every brush of his hand, every glance he gave her, like an anchor tethering her to the moment.

But the wine she sipped wasn’t enough to drown out her anxiety. By the time they stepped onto the dance floor, she was light-headed, not just from the alcohol but from the weight of everything—it all swirled into a toxic cocktail she couldn’t escape.

And yet, she danced.

The music shifted, slower now, and Travis pulled her close. His hands slid to her hips, his eyes locked on hers.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet firm.

She nodded, her fingers clutching his shoulders as he swayed with her. The room around them melted away, the noise fading as if they were in their own bubble.

Taylor leaned her forehead against his chest, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I have a bad feeling.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice steady.

And so, they danced.

It was slow, almost reverent, like it was the first time all over again. His hands guided her, gentle but sure, and for a fleeting moment, she felt safe. Loved.

“I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us,” her lyrics echoed in her mind.

But even as they moved together, her mind raced. Pia’s pointed remarks, her own insecurities, the suffocating fear that she was too much for him—all of it churned beneath the surface.

When the song ended, Travis pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, blinking back tears. “I just need the bathroom.”

---

She barely made it to the sink before her composure shattered. Her hands shook as she set her clutch down, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick had smudged slightly, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and dancing.

As she reapplied the lipstick, the door opened, and Pia stepped inside.

Taylor stiffened, her hand faltering.

Pia’s heels clicked against the tile as she approached, her sharp eyes taking in Taylor’s trembling hands. “Taylor,” she said, her voice cool. “Are you okay?”

Taylor forced a smile. “Fine.”

Pia arched an eyebrow. “You just seem… very much not fine. Travis’s ex Kayla Nicole was always so poised, you know. Glamorous. So put together.” She glanced at Taylor’s unsteady hand. “Not… messy.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

---

Back at Travis’s house, she broke completely.

She collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air as her chest tightened.

“Taylor!” Travis was at her side in an instant, his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She shook her head, struggling to form words. “Panic attack,” she finally managed, her voice barely audible.

His eyes widened in alarm. “Okay. Okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe with me.”

He guided her through each breath, his voice steady as he coached her. When she finally calmed, tears spilled from her eyes.

“I’m a mess,” she whispered. “You need someone better. Someone poised. Not… me.”

Travis cupped her face, his own eyes shining with emotion. “You’re not a mess, Taylor. But even if you were, you’re my mess. And I want you. All of you. But you need help, babe. You’re hurting.”

Her sobs wracked her body as she clung to him.

“I love you,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “Nothing will change that. But I need you to let me help you.”

Travis guided her gently, his strong arms steady as he helped her into bed. She felt weightless in his grasp, too drained to resist as he tucked the blankets around her. His palm skimmed over her hair, smoothing it away from her damp forehead.

"Just rest, baby," he murmured. "I’ve got you."
Taylor let out a shaky breath, her body curling into the warmth of the sheets. She was exhausted—wrung out from the emotions, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest.

But sleep didn’t come easy. Instead, she drifted in that hazy space between wakefulness and dreaming, where the past had a way of creeping back in, threading itself into the present.

—-

Flashback:
2015

The sunlight filtered through the windows of Taylor's LA home, warm and golden, but it did nothing to thaw the icy tension in the air. She sat curled on the edge of the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her chest felt heavy, her breaths shallow as she tried to explain the swirling mess of thoughts inside her head.

“I’m trying, Adam,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t shake this feeling. The anxiety just won’t stop. It’s like I can’t catch my breath, like something’s going to go wrong, and I don’t even know what it is.”

Calvin stood across the room, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Taylor, I don’t know what you want me to do about it. You’re Taylor Swift. You’ve got everything anyone could ever want—success, money, fans. What could you possibly be so anxious about?”

His words stung, sharp and dismissive. She flinched, looking down at her hands. “It’s not about that,” she murmured. “It’s just… it’s in my head. It’s this constant noise, this feeling like I’m drowning even when everything’s fine.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re being dramatic. Everyone gets stressed, Taylor. That doesn’t mean you spiral like this. Just pull yourself together.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she hated how weak she felt in front of him. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “I just… I thought maybe you’d understand it.”

Calvin’s jaw tightened, his frustration boiling over. “I can’t do this right now,” he snapped. “I’ve got my own shit to deal with, and I don’t have time to babysit your feelings.”

Her heart clenched at the coldness in his tone, the way he looked at her like she was a burden.

He grabbed his phone off the counter, swiping at the screen. “I’m flying back to Scotland tonight. I need some space. When you’ve dealt with whatever this is, give me a call.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He didn’t look back as he walked toward the door. “I can’t handle this right now, Taylor. Deal with it.”

The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing in the empty house. Taylor sat frozen, tears streaming down her face as the weight of his words settled over her.

It wasn’t just the anxiety that made her feel like she was drowning—it was the realization that she was utterly alone in it.

—-
Present

A soft murmur pulled her from the memory, the warmth of a hand pressing against her cheek, grounding her. Her lashes fluttered as she blinked into the dim light of the bedroom.
Travis was still there.
She exhaled shakily, barely realizing she had tears on her cheeks until his thumb brushed them away. His eyes were steady, filled with something strong and unwavering.
“Bad dream?” he asked gently.
She swallowed, nodding. But it wasn’t just a dream. It was a ghost, a shadow from a time when she thought love meant convincing someone to stay.

Travis didn’t ask questions, didn’t press. He just wrapped her up in his arms and held her, solid and warm. “I’ve got you,” he whispered again.

“Are you ok?,” he asked softly, his voice a mix of love and concern.

She groaned, attempting to sit up, but the movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through her. “What… what time is it?” she rasped, her voice raw.

“Early,” he replied, leaning forward to steady her with a hand on her shoulder. “You were restless all night. I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Taylor blinked at him, her mind still foggy from too much wine and too little sleep. Her heart clenched as she took in his disheveled appearance—the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his posture.

“You stayed awake?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Of course I stayed awake,” Travis said firmly, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You scared me last night, Tay.”

Tears pricked at her eyes as the memories of the previous night came flooding back—the panic, the overwhelming anxiety, the feeling of being utterly unmoored. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice trembling.

He shook his head, his hand moving to cradle her cheek. “Don’t apologize. I just… I hate seeing you like this. You’ve been so hard on yourself, and it’s tearing you apart.”

Before she could respond, her stomach lurched violently, and she bolted from the bed, barely making it to the bathroom in time. Travis was right behind her, gathering her hair in one hand as she knelt over the toilet, retching painfully.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked between heaves, tears streaming down her face.

“Stop saying that,” Travis said gently, his voice steady even as worry radiated from him. “I’ve got you.”

When she finally stopped, her whole body trembling, he helped her back to the bed, tucking her in with the utmost care. He disappeared briefly, returning with a glass of water and a damp washcloth.

“Here,” he said, sitting beside her and pressing the cool cloth to her forehead. “You need to hydrate. Sip slowly, okay?”

Taylor obeyed, though every movement felt like an effort. “I’m such a mess,” she said quietly, her voice thick with shame.

“You’re not a mess,” Travis said, his tone firm but kind. “You’re going through something, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

She shook her head, her lip quivering. “You deserve someone better. Someone stable, someone who isn’t…” She trailed off, gesturing helplessly to herself.

Travis cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Taylor, listen to me. I don’t care if you think you’re a mess. I love you, exactly as you are. But I want you healthy. I want to help you through this.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. “It’s not just this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s—” She swallowed hard, staring down at their intertwined hands. “It’s you. Your past. How many women you’ve been with.”

Travis stilled, his expression shifting, raw hurt flashing across his face before he could school it. “Tay,” he said softly, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against her skin. “I hate that it’s hurting you. I hate that I can’t take that pain away.”

She bit her lip, her eyes swimming with emotion. “I know it’s not fair. I know it’s irrational, but I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s in my head, and I—I don’t know how to let it go.”

He exhaled sharply, pressing their foreheads together. “I can’t change my past, babe. But I swear to you, none of it—none of them—meant anything compared to this. Compared to you.”

She let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into his shirt. “It just makes me feel…” She hesitated, voice breaking. “Like I’m not enough.”

Travis pulled back immediately, his eyes dark with intensity. “Don’t say that.” His grip on her tightened, as if he could hold her together through sheer will. “You are everything to me. I didn’t know what I was looking for back then. I didn’t even know who I was. But I know now. And it’s you. It’s only you.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked at him, his sincerity piercing through the haze of her self-loathing.

“You can’t fix me,” she said softly.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he replied, his voice steady. “But I’ll be here. Whatever you need—doctor appointments, therapy, medication, just sitting with you on the bad days—I’m not going anywhere. I want to understand. I want to help.”

Her chest tightened, a sob escaping as she threw her arms around him. He held her close, his large hands stroking her back soothingly.

“Please don’t leave,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Never,” Travis said, his lips brushing against her hair. “You’re stuck with me, Tay. We’ll figure this out together.”

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Travis stayed by her side, helping her with everything from sipping water to freshening up. Every time her self-doubt threatened to creep in, he was there, grounding her with his unwavering presence and gentle reassurances.

By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, Taylor felt a faint glimmer of hope—a fragile but undeniable reminder that she wasn’t alone in this fight.

“You’re not a mess,” Travis repeated, his tone firm but kind. “You’re going through something, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

She shook her head, her lip quivering as she repeated her earlier worries. “You deserve someone better. Someone stable, someone who isn’t…” She trailed off, gesturing helplessly to herself.

Travis cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Taylor, listen to me. I don’t care if you think you’re a mess. I love you, exactly as you are. But I want you healthy. I want to help you through this.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked at him, his sincerity piercing through the haze of her self-loathing.

Her chest tightened, a sob escaping as she threw her arms around him. He held her close, his large hands stroking her back soothingly.

“Please don’t leave,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Never,” Travis said, his lips brushing against her hair. “You’re stuck with me, Tay. We’ll figure this out together.”

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Travis stayed by her side, helping her with everything from sipping water to freshening up. Every time her self-doubt threatened to creep in, he was there, grounding her with his unwavering presence and gentle reassurances.

By the time the sun dipped lower in the sky, Taylor felt a faint glimmer of hope—a fragile but undeniable reminder that she wasn’t alone in this fight.

Chapter Text

My boy only breaks his favorite toys

There was a litany of reasons why
We could've played for keeps this time
I know I'm just repeating myself
Put me back on my shelf
But first - Pull the string
And I'll tell you that he runs
Because he loves me.
Cause you should've seen him
When he first saw me.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys
I'm queen of sand castles he destroys
Cause I knew too much
There was danger in the heat of my touch
He saw forever so he smashed it up
Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me
Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

Feb 2024
Travis POV

The memory of Taylor’s panic attack the night before played on a loop in Travis’s mind. It had blindsided him as completely as a hit he hadn’t seen coming. But this wasn’t football, and there was no replay, no strategy to make sense of it.

At the Chiefs’ party, Taylor had been radiant—smiling, laughing, the center of his attention as usual. But somewhere between her third and her fourth glass of champagne, he’d noticed the shift. Her smile had faded, her laugh sounded forced, and her hand clutched his tighter than usual. By the time they’d gotten home, she’d unraveled completely, the panic attack hitting her like a wave she couldn’t escape.

He’d held her through it, whispering reassurances, grounding her as best he could, but the helplessness he felt in that moment still gnawed at him.

Lying awake now, her head nestled against his chest, Travis stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. Her panic attack hadn’t been the first sign, and if he was honest with himself, he’d been ignoring a lot of the warning signs lately—the restless pacing, the overthinking, the way she’d been drinking more heavily to cope.

The panic attack lingered in his mind long after Taylor had fallen asleep in his arms. Travis lay awake now, staring at the ceiling, the soft sound of Taylor’s steady breathing beside him a small comfort. Her panic attack had shaken him to his core—not because she’d fallen apart, but because he realized how much he didn’t know about what she was going through.

He replayed the moment over and over, searching for signs he should’ve noticed sooner. He’d felt helpless in the face of her anxiety, unsure of how to help her. It was a stark contrast to the confidence he felt on the field, where every play had a strategy, every problem a solution. With Taylor, he was flying blind, and it terrified him.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, his heart aching. She wasn’t just his girlfriend, wasn’t just someone he loved—Taylor was his future, his forever. The thought of losing her to her anxiety or to the way she tried to drown it in alcohol was unbearable.

There was danger in the heat of my touch... He saw forever so he smashed it up.

The lyrics Taylor had played over and over the last few weeks echoed in his mind, the melody haunting. She had a way of letting her music speak for her when she couldn’t find the words herself. And if those lyrics were her truth? That terrified him more than anything.

---
Flashback
2019
The memory came unbidden, pulling him back to a different time, a different relationship.
He’d found Kayla crying in his living room one evening, her face buried in her hands.
“Kayla?” he asked softly, crouching down beside her. “What’s wrong?”
She glanced up at him, her mascara smudged, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly, wiping at her face as though she could erase the evidence of her tears.
“It’s not nothing,” he pressed gently. “You’re upset. Talk to me.”
She hesitated, her eyes darting away before finally admitting, “It’s just… a friend thing. She’s being ridiculous, and it’s pissing me off.”
Travis nodded, trying to offer her an opening. “Okay. What happened? Maybe if you tell me, we can figure it out together.”
Her expression hardened instantly, the vulnerability vanishing as if it had never been there. “I don’t need you to fix it, Travis,” she snapped. “God, why do you always have to dig into everything? Can’t you just let it go?”
He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “I’m not trying to fix it,” he said carefully. “I just want to be here for you.”
“Well, I don’t need you to be,” she bit out, standing abruptly. “Not everyone needs to wear their heart on their sleeve like you do. Stop being such a damn sissy.”
The words stung more than he cared to admit. After that, he’d learned to keep his questions to himself, letting her deal with her emotions in her own way. But the memory left a bitter taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t shake even now.
——
Present

The next morning, Travis sat nervously across from a Chiefs counselor, his knees bouncing anxiously. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. “I want to help her, but I feel like I’m just… clueless. I don’t even know where to start.”

The counselor nodded, her expression warm and understanding. “Supporting a partner with anxiety can be challenging, but it’s also incredibly meaningful that you’re here, willing to learn. The first step is education—understanding what anxiety is and how it manifests. Anxiety can feel overwhelming, even suffocating, for the person experiencing it. They often need reassurance, but it’s important to do so without enabling unhealthy behaviors, like excessive drinking.”

Travis nodded, soaking in her words. “She drinks a lot when she’s anxious. I know it’s not good for her, but I don’t know how to bring it up without making her feel attacked.”

“Approach it with love,” the counselor advised. “Frame it as concern, not criticism. And it might help to involve someone she trusts—someone who can reinforce the message that she’s not alone.”

—-

That afternoon during the drive home from training, Travis made the call.
“Hi, Andrea. It’s Travis,” he began, his voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling in his chest. “I wanted to talk to you about Taylor. I think… I think she’s struggling more than she’s letting on.”
Andrea Swift was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was filled with concern. “I’ve noticed, too. She’s been drinking a lot more, hasn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Travis admitted. “And last night, she had a panic attack. It scared the hell out of me. I want to help her, but I think she needs more than just me right now. Would you be able to come up here? I think we need to talk to her together.”
“I’ll be there first thing tomorrow,” Andrea promised.

—-

When he came home from the first thing he noticed was the smell of wine. The second was Taylor, curled up on the couch with an empty bottle next to her and a glass half-full in her hand.
“Taylor,” he said softly, setting his bag down as he approached her.
She looked up, her eyes red and glassy. “You’re back,” she murmured, her voice slurred.
“Yeah, I’m back.” His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked so small, so lost, and it killed him to think she’d been here, spiraling, while he was gone.
Travis crouched in front of her, gently taking the bottle from her hand. “What’s going on, baby?” he asked, his voice thick with worry.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, tears spilling over. “I just… I feel like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to stop it. I’m so worried this is going to scare you off and you’ll run.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she cried against his chest.
“I’m not running from this Taylor, I won’t let this destroy us.”

——

The next morning, Andrea arrived, her worry barely masked by her determined expression. Travis met her at the door, his face etched with concern. Taylor hadn’t left his side—not for a moment. She’d clung to him all night, her arms wrapped tightly around him as if afraid he might vanish if she let go. Even when they’d woken up, she hadn’t loosened her grip, trailing him around the house, her need for reassurance palpable.

Usually, Travis loved her affection, cherished the way she sought him out. But today, it felt different. There was a desperation in her touch that unsettled him, a weight he wasn’t sure how to lift on his own.

As Andrea spoke, Travis glanced down at Taylor, who was cuddled on his lap where she’d spent most the morning, his chest tightening at the sight of her. Her shoulders were hunched, her head bowed, and her usually bright eyes were dull, brimming with unshed tears. She looked so fragile, like she might shatter under the weight of her own emotions.

His heart hurt. This was his girl—his fierce, brilliant, unstoppable lady—but right now, she was broken. He hated seeing her this way, hated the helplessness clawing at him. She’d always been his light, the person who could walk into a room and fill it with magic. Now she looked dimmed, like the world had drained her of all her fire.

When her hand tightened around his, Travis realized she was clinging to him not just for support, but for survival. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. He would do anything to help her, but it gutted him to know that she was in so much pain, pain he couldn’t simply fix with love and patience.

“We just want to help you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. His hand covered hers, grounding her, even as his heart ached for the woman he loved so deeply.

Taylor’s eyes brimmed with tears, and for a moment, it seemed like she might withdraw, like she’d push them away as she’d done before. But instead, she nodded, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I know. I know I need help.”

Andrea squeezed her knee reassuringly. “We’ll do whatever it takes to support you. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

Taylor leaned into Travis’s shoulder, her tears dampening his shirt. His arms tightened around her, relief and worry mingling in his chest. She’d agreed to see her therapist again, but even as the conversation ended, her hands stayed locked in his, her need for him to be close unrelenting.

The days that followed weren’t easy. Taylor started seeing her therapist again, slowly cutting back on drinking and learning healthier ways to cope with her anxiety.

As he held her one quiet evening, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on her back, he realized something profound: loving Taylor wasn’t just about sharing the highs—it was about standing by her through the lows, too. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He wasn’t just her boyfriend—he was her partner, her rock, her safe place. And with time, he watched as she found her footing again, her strength shining through the cracks.

Because he’d seen her at her lowest and loved her even more for it. And that? That was forever

Chapter Text

Down bad crying at the gym

Did you really beam me up?
In a cloud of sparkling dust
Just to do experiments on
Tell me I was the chosen one
Show me that this world is bigger than us
Then sent me back where I came from
For a moment I knew cosmic love
Now I'm down bad crying at the gym
Everything comes out teenage petulance
"What if I can't have him"
"I might just die, it would make no difference."
Down bad, waking up in blood
Staring at the sky, come back and pick me up
What if I can't have us.
I might just not get up
I might stay down bad

March 2024

Taylor’s POV

Taylor sat cross-legged on the couch across from him, her guitar resting beside her, fingers idly plucking at the strings. Therapy had been hard—starting again always was. Confronting herself, her fears, the spirals that seemed to come out of nowhere. But slowly, she was beginning to feel more like herself. Each day felt a little less heavy, the buzzing in her chest a little quieter.

It helped that Travis had been there through every moment, steady and patient even when apart. On the nights when anxiety kept her from sleeping, he’d stayed on the phone for hours, his voice grounding her as he talked about football, his family, or something completely ridiculous just to make her laugh. And when he could be there in person, he’d lay beside her, holding her, reminding her with his presence that she wasn’t alone.

Now, he was perched in the worn leather chair of her home studio, looking completely at ease yet somehow out of place among the scattered notebooks and gleaming instruments. His long legs stretched out in front of him as he twirled a pair of headphones in his hands, his expression a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“You sure you want me to hear this before it’s out?” he asked, his voice teasing but warm.
Taylor sat cross-legged on the couch across from him, her guitar resting beside her. “Of course,” she said. “You’re the first person I want to share this with. Well... other than my producer.”

Travis grinned. “Big honor.” He slid the headphones over his ears and hit play.
You sure you’re ready for this one?” she teased, her lips curving into a soft smile.
“I was born ready,” Travis said, his grin boyish. “Let me hear what you’ve been working on.”

She hit play, and the upbeat opening of So High School started playing . Travis’s face lit up immediately, and Taylor couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

When the line came—“Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto”—his ears flushed pink. He pulled off one side of the headphones and looked at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, wait, is this... about me?”
Taylor bit her lip, trying to suppress a grin. “Maybe.”
“‘Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto,’” he repeated, his voice incredulous but delighted. “Babe, I’m never gonna live this down.”

Taylor shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “What?”
“That line,” he said, pointing to the headphones. “That’s... very specific.”
“It’s relatable,” she said with a smirk.
“For who?!” he asked, his cheeks still flushed.
“For us,” she said simply, leaning back with a grin.
Travis groaned, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

She laughed, the sound filling the room. “You know it’s true.”
Travis shook his head, his blush deepening. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d immortalize it in a song!”
“It’s a good lyric,” she said, shrugging. “And you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

He shook his head, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re lucky it’s a great song.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I really do.”
For a moment, they just looked at each other, the unspoken understanding between them filling the space. It was a small, perfect moment—one that felt like the beginning of something bright and new.

Taylor hesitated for a moment, then said, her voice a little awkward, “The next one I want you to hear is called Down Bad Crying at the Gym...”

——
Flashback
June 2023

Taylor had been staring at her phone screen for hours, days, waiting for a reply. The message she sent was simple, but it had taken everything in her to send it. It wasn’t like her to reach out like this—vulnerable, unsure, desperate. She had told herself she wouldn’t do it again, but the silence was unbearable.
Her fingers trembled as she typed, then deleted, then retyped the message to Matty. When it was finally sent, it felt like a weight lifted off her chest, even if just a little. She was just asking for some clarity. She needed to know what had happened. Why he’d suddenly ghosted her a week ago. Why he’d gone from being so affectionate, so present, to nothing. Why she felt like an afterthought.
The text simply read: “Matty, what happened? You’ve gone silent, and I don’t know why. Please just talk to me.”
The message sat there, unanswered, for days.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a notification pinged on her screen.
Her stomach dropped.
Matty’s name flashed up on the screen. Her heart raced as she tapped it, hoping to see something that would make sense. Anything. But what she found shattered her.
The words were cold, calculated, and painfully indifferent.

‘This is all too much. Let’s just leave it here.’

The words cut through her like a blade. She stared at the screen, blinking repeatedly as if trying to will the bland message into something it wasn’t. Maybe there had been some mistake. Maybe she read it wrong. But no matter how many times she read it, it didn’t change. His cruelty was sharp and deliberately bland.

Her chest felt hollow. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

"Too much." That was all she was to him. Not enough to care about, not worth the effort. Just overwhelming, exhausting. A burden. The words sliced through her, leaving a hollow ache in their wake.

She sank to the floor, her back hitting the wall as the weight of his rejection crashed over her. A sob tore from her throat, raw and broken, as tears streamed down her face. How could he reduce her to this? How could he dismiss her so easily, so cruelly? She had bared her soul to him, let him see parts of herself no one else had, and this was his response. Cold. Detached. Final.

She couldn’t stop crying. It felt like something inside her was cracking, breaking apart piece by piece.
She grabbed her phone and threw it across the room, as if somehow that could erase the cruel reality he had left her with.
But it didn’t. Nothing could. The silence between them was deafening now, louder than his words ever could be.

Later that day
Taylor dragged herself into her home gym, hoping that the physical exhaustion would numb the emotional pain. But the ache in her chest was relentless, and no matter how hard she pushed herself through her training, nothing could stop the tears. She kept running on the treadmill, faster and faster, but all she could think about was how he had made her feel. How he had made her feel like she wasn’t even worth his time.
“You’re too much.”
It was like a mantra now. A constant reminder of her worthlessness. She tried to push herself harder, to outrun the sadness, but it didn’t work.
Her legs burned, her chest ached, but it wasn’t enough to outrun the devastation. She found herself collapsing to the gym floor, her body crumpling with the weight of it all. She curled into a ball, her face buried in her hands, and let the tears fall freely. The sobs wracked her body, each one more desperate than the last.
“I’ll never let anyone close again,” she whispered to herself between sobs, the pain so overwhelming that she didn’t know how she could ever trust anyone again.
Matty’s words haunted her. They circled in her mind like vultures, picking apart the remnants of what she thought they had. She had tried to give him everything. She had tried to be open and vulnerable, and he had rejected her. He had called her too much. Too intense. Too needy.
“I’m not enough. I’m never going to be enough for anyone. I just want to die,” she cried, the words feeling like they were suffocating her.
She stayed there for what felt like hours, unable to move, unable to stop the tears. When she finally made it to her bedroom, she crawled into bed, too exhausted to face anything else. Too drained to even get up and do anything that might make her feel better.
She couldn’t do it anymore.
She promised herself she wouldn’t.
No more men. No more hope.

——
Present
Travis pulled the headphones off slowly, his face tightening with emotion. "That guy's a piece of shit," he muttered, his jaw clenched. "The way he treated you... no one deserves that." His voice was low, dark with anger, and Taylor could see the protective fire in his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her gaze drifting to the floor as she tried to push back the rush of feelings his words stirred in her. After a moment, she looked back up at him, a soft, almost rueful smile tugging at her lips. "You were never supposed to be anything more than a fling," she said quietly. "Just a distraction... something to keep me busy. But somehow, you’re here. And you... you’re so much more."

Travis’s eyes softened, but there was still a hint of frustration in them. “More? Hell, yeah, I’m more. You don’t let someone treat you like that. You deserve everything good in this world, Taylor. I’m was never here not to be a 'fling.' I’m here because you’re worth more than that.”

Taylor blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, and the way he looked at her—like she was everything he had been waiting for. She felt the sting of her past fade a little, replaced by something new, something real. She reached out, taking his hand, and whispered, “I know. I never thought I’d feel this way. But I do. And I’m glad I do.”

The tension in Travis’s shoulders eased, and he gave her a small smile, one full of understanding and affection. “Well, I’m glad too.”

The weight of everything—her past heartbreak, her confusion, the time she’d spent pushing people away—seemed to melt away with those words, leaving only the undeniable truth: they weren’t just a fling anymore. If they’d ever been.

“Was the song too much?” Taylor asked.

Not at all,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “It’s honest. And anyone who’s been through something like that is going to feel it in their soul. I don’t know how you do it.”

Taylor looked down, suddenly shy under his intense gaze. “I just write what I feel.”

He let out a soft laugh, one that carried both admiration and a hint of frustration. “You don’t just write, Taylor. You bleed onto the page. And you make the rest of us feel it, whether we’re ready or not.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she met his eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Travis stood, closing the space between them in a few long strides. He stopped just short of touching her, his hands hovering at his sides as if unsure what to do with them.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low and charged.

Taylor’s breath hitched as the air between them seemed to hum with electricity. “Travis...”

Whatever she was about to say dissolved the instant he reached for her—his hands locking around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that wasn’t polite or patient. It was desperate. Possessive. His lips crushed hers, and she met him head-on, fingers tangling in his hair as she opened to him with a low, hungry sound.

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, and her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, the heat between them impossible to ignore. She could feel the hard line of him through his jeans, pressing against her exactly where she ached. She gasped, fingers tightening in his hair.

Then her back hit the wall with a soft thud, and she let out a sharp, breathy laugh that turned into a moan as his mouth found her throat. His teeth scraped her skin and she tipped her head back, offering more.

“Travis,” she breathed, voice raw with want.

He froze, just for a beat, his forehead falling against hers, his breath hot on her cheek. His hands stayed firm, grounding her as their bodies trembled with restraint.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice hoarse, all power and reverence in one breath.

She shook her head, her fingers slipping down to cradle his face. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I want this. I want you.”

And then he kissed her again—rougher now, like permission had unlocked something primal. His hips rolled into hers, and she whimpered at the pressure, at the delicious friction. Her hands clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel skin.

There was nothing gentle about this now.

It was frantic—needy. Her body burned for him, every nerve ending begging for friction, for more. And when he carried her to the bed, laying her down with a mix of strength and tenderness, she looked up at him and smiled like she already had the world.

Because she did. She had him. And she was going to ruin them both.

⸻

He kissed her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense—slow and consuming, but with a tension coiled beneath it, like he was barely holding back.

Taylor felt it too: the hunger, the ache, the way her body was already tightening in anticipation. But after everything—after her weeks of anxiety and all the days they hadn’t done more than cuddle—he didn’t rush.

He pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

She nodded, breathless. “I trust you.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed her again, deeper now, and his hands moved—one sliding over her hip, the other skimming up between her breasts, slow and reverent. He paused there, eyes darkening as his fingers traced the curve of her. God, he’d always been obsessed, but now he looked starved—like he could live on the sight of her chest alone.

“Jesus,” he muttered, dipping his head. “These fucking perfect tits…”

Taylor laughed breathlessly, but it dissolved into a moan as his mouth closed around one nipple. He licked and sucked with deliberate, almost worshipful attention, while his fingers toyed with the other—pinching lightly, then soothing the sting with his palm.

Her back arched, pressing into him, and he groaned in appreciation.

He moved between them, giving each breast equal attention, lips hot and wet, teeth grazing until she was squirming beneath him, the tension low in her belly starting to burn.

“Travis…” she gasped, fingers tangled in his hair.

“I know, baby,” he murmured. “Let me make you feel good.”

His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, and she parted for him without hesitation. She was already wet, embarrassingly so, he groaned like it was the best thing he’d ever felt.

He stroked her gently at first, just watching her fall apart. Then he slid one thick finger inside, slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving her face.

“You’re tight,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So fucking tight.”

“It’s been a while,” she whispered, shifting her hips into his hand. “Don’t stop.”

He added a second finger, stretching her, his thumb circling her clit with maddening precision. Her breath hitched, and her body arched again, breasts rising beautifully beneath him.

“You’re driving me insane,” he said, kissing one peak, then the other. “I could come just from this. Just from watching you like this.”

His fingers moved steadily, opening her up, coaxing her closer, and she clutched at his shoulders as the heat began to crest.

His fingers circling her clit with practiced pressure, and she shattered with a cry, her whole body pulsing around him. She clung to him through it, through the trembling release that stole her breath and every thought in her head.

“Travis—” Her voice was shaky, desperate. “Please. I need you.”

He slowed his hand but didn’t stop, brushing his lips across hers. “You sure?”

She nodded fiercely. “I want you inside me. I’m ready.”

He withdrew his fingers gently, kissed her as he moved over her, guiding himself to her entrance.

“I’ll go slow,” he whispered.

She held his gaze, cupping his jaw. “Don’t be too gentle.”

And when he pushed inside her—slow but deep, inch by inch—her breath stuttered out of her lungs. He was thick and hard, and she felt every stretch, every pulse. It bordered on too much, but it wasn’t. It was perfect. He was perfect. “Tay tel me if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be,” she whispered. “I need you babe.”

He slid into her with a groan that vibrated down her spine. Taylor gasped, her fingers clutching at his back. It had been too long—too much time spent afraid of this moment, of whether she’d feel like herself again.

But he filled her so completely, so perfectly, that it felt like coming home.

She gasped again, tears stinging her eyes—not from pain, but from the flood of sensation. Her body stretching to take him, the slow, powerful roll of his hips, the way his hand gripped hers, grounding her through every inch.

“You feel…” he choked on the words, kissed them into her throat. “Fuck, Tay. You feel like heaven.”

Their rhythm built gradually—each movement deep and deliberate, a conversation made of breath and heat and whispered reassurances. Her thighs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper, the ache of him inside her blooming into something sharp and hot and overwhelming.

“More,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. “Please, Travis…”

He gave her everything. Every thrust deeper, every brush of his thumb against her clit drawing her closer to the edge until her body was shaking, her voice broken on his name.

And when she came—hard and fast and clenching around him—he groaned, losing his rhythm as he followed her, burying himself deep with a low, guttural sound. His whole body shuddered against hers, his release drawn out, powerful, raw.

They stayed tangled together, limbs trembling, breath shared between kisses that were softer now. Calmer.

He didn’t move right away. Just held her. Kissed the tears from her cheeks. Whispered, “I’ve got you,” again and again like a mantra.

And she knew—without question—that this was what healing felt like. Not just soft or delicate, but also wild and real and completely hers.

⸻

Travis stroked her hair back from her damp forehead, his thumb tracing the line of her cheek with reverence. He shifted just enough to pull a blanket over them, careful not to let the air touch her too harshly, never breaking the seal of their closeness.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion, not just afterglow.

Taylor nodded, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Yeah. More than okay.”

He exhaled, his relief palpable as he kissed her temple, her jaw, the slope of her shoulder. “Didn’t want to rush you. Ever.”

“You didn’t,” she whispered, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his back. “You never do.”

They stayed that way, tangled and quiet, his hands endlessly soothing—smoothing down her back, over her hips, cupping the curve of her waist like he was grounding them both. He helped her clean up gently, tenderly, and when she winced at the sensitivity, he pressed soft kisses to her knees, her thighs, murmuring apologies she didn’t need.

Wrapped back in his arms, her head on his chest, she felt his heartbeat slow beneath her cheek. Steady. Solid. Home.

“I missed you,” she said softly.

“I was right here,” he answered, his voice cracking.

She looked up at him, brushing her lips to his. “I know. That’s why I’m okay.”

He tilted his head, studying her face. “You sure baby?” he asked softly, his tone laced with care.

Taylor took a deep breath, her fingers drawing absent patterns on his skin. “Yeah. I think… I think I’m finally okay,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.

Travis kissed the top of her head, his hand stilling on her back. “You’ve been through so much, Tay. I’m proud of you.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes shimmering in the dim light. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “There were moments when I felt like I was drowning, like I’d never get back to feeling normal. But you—” Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard. “You pulled me out of it, Trav. You never gave up on me.”

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “I’d never give up on you,” he said firmly. “Not ever.”

Taylor let out a shaky laugh, her fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “You’ve been my anchor through all of it—when the panic attacks were so bad I couldn’t breathe, when I started spiraling, even when I didn’t want to admit how much I was struggling. You were always there.”

“And I always will be,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. “You don’t have to face any of it alone.”

She nodded, her hand moving to rest over his heart. “I’m doing better now,” she said softly. “You know it’s still hard some days, but I feel lighter. Like I’m finally starting to find myself again.”

Travis smiled, his pride evident as he kissed her forehead. “You’re the strongest person I know, Tay. I hope you see that.”

“I’m starting to,” she whispered, her smile widening. “And it’s because of you.”

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping securely around her as if to shield her from the world. “We’re a team, baby. Always.”

As the warmth of his embrace settled over her, Taylor felt the truth of it wash through her like a tidal wave.

For years, she’d sung about cosmic love, about stars aligning and fates intertwining, always searching but never quite finding.

And now, here he was—the gravitational pull she hadn’t even known she’d been waiting for.

“Travis,” she murmured, her voice soft but full of conviction. “You’re my brightest star.”

He chuckled, brushing a kiss against her temple. “And you’re my whole damn galaxy.”

Taylor smiled, her cheek pressed against his chest, her heart full. She’d spent so much time chasing the stars, never realizing the brightest one was right here, holding her, loving her.

And as sleep finally claimed her, she knew, deep in her soul—this wasn’t just love. This was fate.

Chapter Text

Wildest dreams

Late May 2024

Say you'll remember me
Standing in a nice dress
Staring at the sunset, babe
Red lips and rosy cheeks
Say you'll see me again
Even if it's just (pretend, just pretend) in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ah)
In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha
Even if it's just stayed in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha
In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

---

Travis' POV

The sun hung high above the horizon, casting a golden shimmer over the turquoise water. Travis lay stretched out on the sand, the heat of the beach seeping into his skin, but all he could focus on was the woman beside him. Taylor. Bikini-clad, sun-drenched, and glowing with the kind of joy he’d only seen in stolen moments—when no one else was watching.

Her laughter rolled through the air like a song, loud and unrestrained. She was tossing her head back, a hand brushing hair from her face as she leaned toward him on the oversized beach towel. Her thigh brushed his, and his arm instinctively circled her waist, drawing her closer.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes roaming her face, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say we’ve found a perfect little slice of paradise.”

Taylor turned toward him, her body aligning easily with his, like muscle memory. “Paradise is wherever you make it,” she said, her voice light.

He smirked. “Well, I’ve definitely found mine.”

She laughed and nudged him in the chest. “You’re really laying it on thick today.”

“What can I say?” he said, brushing his fingers along her hip, just under the edge of her bikini bottom. “I’m already the luckiest guy in the world. Why not say it out loud?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face didn’t fade. Instead, she leaned in and kissed him—slow and warm, all salt and sunshine. Travis hummed into it, deepening the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of her head. Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he didn’t hesitate.

It didn’t feel like a show. It didn’t feel like the world watching. It felt like them—just them. The way she tilted her head. The way her hand slid up his chest and curled into his hair. The small breath she let out when he pulled her halfway onto his lap.

He kissed her again—longer this time, slower—his hand trailing down her back and finding bare skin. She made a soft noise in the back of her throat, her body curving into his. He was getting hard already, and he knew she felt it, the way her hips shifted, teasing him just a little.

And then, like a mosquito buzzing too close to his ear, he heard it.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Travis broke the kiss, eyes narrowing as he sat up slightly and caught sight of it: a drone, hovering twenty feet above them, camera aimed directly at their towel like it had front-row seats.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

Taylor didn’t even flinch. She sighed and shielded her eyes from the sun.

Travis chuckled, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “Man, I swear, these drones are the worst. I don’t want to embarrass you, being caught feeling you up. I know the rumors are bad enough, but this... feels like it’s taking it too far.”

Taylor gave him a reassuring smile. “Travis, I swear, it’s fine. If the Gaylors want to think we organized the drone ourselves to fake it, then let them. It’s just a drone.”

Travis had his hands on her waist, pulling her close, but his mind was still racing.

He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I just feel like I’ve embarrassed you,” he admitted, his voice tinged with concern. “With the Instagram likes, before we were even official. Everyone’s digging through my past, and now it feels like they’re using it against us.”

Taylor’s eyes softened, and she reached up to touch his face, the warmth of her fingers grounding him. “Travis,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring, “you didn’t embarrass me. I mean... have you seen my past relationships? My entire relationship with Matty Healy was an embarrassment, let alone a few Instagram likes.”
Travis let out a relieved laugh, his tension easing. “Yeah, but still. I just don’t want to be the reason it gets harder for you.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing through his hair, her touch gentle but confident. “You’re not the reason, Travis. And I’m not bothered by any of that noise. All I care about is us.” Her eyes locked onto his with unwavering sincerity. “What we have is real. No one can take that away from us. We’re stronger than anything the media can throw at us.”

Travis took a deep breath, feeling the weight lift off his chest. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”
“You won’t,” she reassured him, stepping closer, her lips brushing against his. “We’ve got this. And we’ve got each other.”

Taylor said, leaning in closer, “You did say on that reality show that you’d kiss me, so... you’re lucky you got the chance.”

Travis laughed, shaking his head. “You’re really gonna keep bringing that up, huh?”

She grinned, teasing him. “Well I saw that tweet… you started kissing me and haven’t stopped.”

Travis laughed, leaning in for another kiss, but just as their lips met, the drone buzzed closer, catching the moment on camera. He broke away with a sigh. “Man, they’re really milking this, huh? The paparazzi’s gonna love this.”

Taylor laughed, brushing her hair back as she sat up. “Oh, come on, Travis. Who cares what they think? If they’re gonna call this a PR relationship, then let’s give them something to talk about.”

Travis smirked, his hand resting on her leg. “What? You want me to just start, like, making out with you in public so they have more to write about?”

“Hell yeah,” Taylor said, grinning. “If they want to believe our relationship is just for the cameras, we might as well give them the show of their lives. And—” She leaned in, her voice dropping low and teasing. “—maybe we’ll throw in a little extra, like... you know, last night?”

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Last night?”

She gave him a sly look. “Last night was *definitely* too much for a ‘PR’ relationship.”

He laughed, pulling her closer. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Taylor laughed, reaching up to kiss him quickly on the lips. “You’re funny. But seriously, if they want to think it’s all fake... well, let them. If they think it’s PR, then why did you blow my back out last night?”

Travis’ eyes widened, a mix of surprise and laughter. “Did you just say that?”

“Yeah, I did,” Taylor said with a mischievous grin. “What, you thought I wasn’t going to bring it up?”

He laughed again, a genuine warmth spreading through him. “Okay, I’m sold. You just keep proving to me every day that I’m lucky to have you.”

Travis groaned, resting his hand on her leg. “I don’t want them catching that kiss. Not like this.”

Taylor leaned in, lips brushing against his ear. “Then let’s give them nothing else.”

She stood and grabbed his hand. “C’mon. Inside.”

He followed, brushing sand off his chest as they climbed the wooden steps back to the villa. The glass doors were wide open, the sea breeze spilling into the sun-soaked space. Travis reached past her to shut them, then moved to the windows, pulling the curtains closed one by one until the villa was swathed in golden shadow.

Taylor watched him from the center of the room, her head tilted. “You always this protective?”

“Of you?” he said, turning to face her. “Yeah. Every time.”

She walked toward him slowly, the rhythm of her bare feet on the hardwood floor sounding like a countdown.

Travis took a deep breath, the tension easing from his shoulders. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin the moment with her. The world could think whatever it wanted, but in this moment, he had Taylor—and that was all that mattered.

---

Flashback - 2016

Travis had no idea what he was getting into when he agreed to do the reality show, Catching Kelce. He was a rookie with the Chiefs, trying to make a name for himself on the field, and suddenly, there he was, thrust into the world of reality TV dating. He’d figured it would be a one-off thing, just a laugh to pass the time during the offseason and a way to get some extra money after blowing through his first seasons salary.

But it didn’t take long for his teammates to find out—and they had *no* mercy.

“Yo, Kelce!” Mitch called out in the locker room. “You’re the one who’s dating all those girls on TV now, huh? You really think that’s a good look for you?”

Travis groaned, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that, man. It was just for fun.”

Jason, his big brother, who had never let him live anything down, FaceTimed him “Hey bro, mom’s calling me asking if we need to have an intervention.”

Travis shot his brother a glare. “Shut up, Jason. Mom’s fine. She’s just overthinking it.”

Jason smirked. “Oh, I’m sure she is. But don’t forget, I was watching you on TV, man.”

Travis winced. “You really don’t need to remind me, okay?”

“Well, it was pretty funny,” Jason said, laughing. “But you know, Mom’s over here like, ‘What happened to my little boy, my friends are all shocked?’” He mocked their mother’s voice, “‘What did you do on that TV show, Travis?”

Travis buried his face in his hands. “God, can’t you let me live this down? I’m trying to be serious here.”

But Jason wasn’t letting up. “No way, man. This is family gold. This’ll haunt you forever.”

Travis rolled his eyes, trying to play it off but the embarrassment stung.

---
Present

As Travis sat back, he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Life had a funny way of working out.

The private villa balcony was their secret haven. The golden hues of the sunset painted the sky in colors only they could appreciate, the world beyond completely out of reach. Taylor stood in front of Travis, her red lipstick a little smudged from their earlier kisses, her sundress swaying lightly in the breeze. She leaned back into him, her laughter low and easy, as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

“You know, if we had a drone up here right now,” she said, her voice dripping with mischief, “we could really give them something to talk about.”

Travis snorted, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “Oh, they’d love that. Probably say we planned the whole thing ourselves—sunset, romantic balcony... If we threw in a kiss, they’d really be convinced we’re just playing the part.”

Taylor grinned, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe we should. Just for kicks. Give ‘em something to chew on.”

Travis chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “We’d have to make it look real, though,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her neck. “Maybe get another drone shot when you blow me in the next room. That'd seal the deal.”

Taylor burst into laughter, shaking her head. “A little too far for a PR relationship, don’t you think?” she teased back, feeling her heart race as his touch sent sparks through her skin.

“But it would definitely convince ‘em,” he shot back, his grin wide as he nipped at her ear.

They reached the bedroom in a tangle of limbs and laughter, both of them breathless, both of them ready. Travis kicked the door shut behind them—not that it mattered now—and turned to face her, heat darkening his eyes.

Taylor stood in the middle of the bedroom in nothing but her bikini, hair messy, lips kiss-swollen, her skin glowing with sun and want. She gave him a teasing look, that slow, satisfied smirk that always drove him fucking crazy.

Travis barely had the door closed before Taylor was on him—hands in his hair, lips crashing into his with a ferocity that stole his breath. Her body pressed to his like she needed him to survive, fingers clawing at his back, tugging at the waistband of his swim trunks.

He growled into her mouth, hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?”

“Shut up,” she panted, biting his lower lip. “Just fuck me.”

He stumbled toward the bedroom, her legs locked around his waist, kissing him like she wanted to swallow him whole. The second they hit the mattress, he ripped the bikini from her body in one swift pull, the tiny scraps of fabric tossed somewhere across the room. She was all flushed skin and need, panting beneath him, eyes blown wide with hunger.

“Please,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Travis. I need you to—”

“Need me to what, baby?” he murmured darkly, mouth trailing over her throat, one hand already sliding between her legs. “You want me to wreck you?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracked. “Please. I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my name.”

That was all it took.

He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, pushing his fingers into her. She was still dripping from their morning together—open, slick, and achingly ready for more. He thrust into her without warning, burying himself to the hilt. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, her nails raking down his back as her body arched off the bed.

“God, Taylor,” he hissed, pulling out halfway just to slam back in again. “You feel like heaven.”

She sobbed his name, barely coherent as he fucked her—hard, fast, merciless—each thrust pushing her higher, unraveling her.

She was wild under him—clawing, gasping, writhing—begging him not to stop, her voice breaking as she cried out again and again. “Harder, Travis. Don’t you dare stop. Please—please—”

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, holding her down, her eyes rolling back when he hit just the right spot over and over again.

“Look at you,” he growled, fucking her into the mattress, “so desperate for me. So fucked out already.”

He reached around and rubbed her clit, fast and intense, just how she liked it. She jerked beneath him, legs trembling, the pitch of her moans climbing.

She couldn’t even answer—just whimpered and clenched around him, her orgasm barreling through her with such force she screamed his name, body shaking like it couldn’t contain the pleasure.

Travis didn’t stop.

He flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her hips up, driving back into her from behind. She was a mess, hands fisting the sheets, her moans going hoarse, her legs trembling beneath the weight of it all.

“You’re mine, Taylor,” he said, voice low and rough in her ear. “You’re fucking mine.”

“Yes,” she choked out. “All yours. I’m yours, Travis—please—please come, I want to feel it—”

He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright, her back to his chest as he fucked up into her, wild and punishing until he finally lost it—coming hard with a deep groan, buried inside her, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.

They collapsed in a tangled heap of limbs and sweat, her body trembling in his arms.

He kissed the back of her neck, holding her close as she panted against him, skin flushed, hair damp, lips swollen. She looked wrecked. Beautiful. Perfect.

Like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

He kept her close, her body cradled against his chest, heart still racing.

Curtains drawn. Phones off. No one watching.

Just her. Just him. Just this.

And yet—he knew, somewhere deep in his bones—that this moment would live in him long after the summer heat faded. The way she’d looked at him earlier, in nothing but that soft dress, lips red, cheeks flushed, staring at the sunset like it held a secret meant only for them—it was seared into him.

He didn’t need a camera to remember her like that.

Because even if the world didn’t understand them—even if the noise got louder or everything somehow slipped away—he’d still carry this. The way she’d begged for him, the way she’d laughed, the way she’d kissed him like it was the last time.

And if it ever became just a memory…
Then damn it, he hoped she’d see him there, too.

Because she wasn’t just in his wildest dreams.
She was his wildest dream.

Chapter Text

Loml

You talked me under the table
Talking rings and talking cradles
I wish I could un-recall
How we almost had it all
Dancing phantoms on the terrace
Are they second-hand embarrassed
That I can't get out of bed?
Cause something counterfeit's dead
It was legendary
It was momentary
It was unnecessary
Should've let it stay buried

Taylor’s POV

Easter 2024

Taylor laughed as she watched Jason and Travis play an impromptu game of tag on Easter Day with Jason and Kylie’s daughters in the backyard. Wyatt was shrieking with laughter, her curls bouncing as she sprinted across the lawn, while Elliotte toddled after her, arms outstretched, determined to keep up with her big sister.

“You’re it, Uncle Trav!” Wyatt shouted, tagging him before ducking behind her dad for cover.

Travis groaned dramatically, clutching his chest as though mortally wounded. “Wyatt, not you! I thought we were on the same team!”

Taylor grinned, shaking her head as Jason dropped onto the patio chair beside her, a beer in hand. Travis was still on the lawn, now letting Wyatt scramble onto his back while Elliotte clung to his leg, giggling uncontrollably.

Jason took a sip of his drink, watching Travis let Wyatt scramble onto his back while Elliotte clung to his leg, giggling uncontrollably. He smirked and turned to Taylor. “I’ll chat to you now before your boyfriend steals you back. He doesn’t seem to let you go for long.”

Taylor huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, he’s a little clingy.” Her tone was teasing, but there was warmth beneath it.

Jason chuckled. “Can’t say I blame him, I know he’s been missing you.” He leaned against the patio railing, glancing at her. “How’s the tour going? You hanging in there?”

Taylor exhaled, considering the question. “It’s been good. A lot, but good. I think I finally found a rhythm.”

Jason nodded. “Travis said as much. Said you make it look easy.”

She smiled at that, glancing toward Travis again. “He’s sweet.”

“He’s something, alright.” Jason shook his head fondly before smirking. “Man, you should’ve heard him after he met you that first time. Wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Taylor’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Jason said, amused. “It was kinda hilarious. He was trying to play it cool, acting like he was just talking in passing, but I could tell. I knew then he really, really liked you.”

Taylor tilted her head, curiosity sparking. “What did he say?”

Jason chuckled. “It was little things at first. Just dropping your name into conversations, bringing you up for no reason. Then after, what? Two weekends with you? He was already talking about buying a new house.”

Taylor’s mouth parted slightly. “Wait—what?”

Jason grinned. “Swear to God. Suddenly, he was real serious about finding the right place. Something more private. Said he wanted a home that actually felt like a home, not just a place to crash. I put two and two together.”

Taylor blinked, warmth blooming in her chest. She hadn’t known that. Hadn’t realized how quickly she’d changed things for him.

Before she could respond, Kylie joined them, cradling their youngest, Bennett, in her arms. She smiled, watching Travis with the kids.

“He’s such a natural with them,” Taylor murmured, her heart squeezing as Travis spun Elliotte around, her delighted shriek ringing through the yard.

Kylie rocked Bennett gently. “Oh, he’s a total softie. The girls adore him.” She shot Jason a pointed look. “I mean it’s chaos - but we might as well add to the chaos, right?”.

Jason groaned. “Oh boy, here we go.”

Kylie ignored him, grinning at Taylor. “You know, we’ve been talking about trying for one more. A boy would be great, but honestly, I’d love another little girl running around here.”

“That’s so exciting,” Taylor said, her face lighting up. “You’ve built such a beautiful family.”

“Thanks,” Kylie said, glancing at Jason, who was now groaning dramatically as Wyatt tugged on his arm, demanding he play. “It’s a lot of fun and hard work, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Jason groaned again as Wyatt tugged on his arm, trying to drag him back into the game. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he relented, giving Taylor and Kylie an exaggeratedly apologetic wave. “I’ll leave you two to talk while I go get destroyed by a five-year-old.”

She laughed as he was dragged off, then hesitated looking at Taylor, and added, “I used to think I’d stop at two, but once I had them, it was hard not to picture more. I guess you don’t always know what you want until you have it.”

Taylor hummed in understanding, but Kylie wasn’t finished. She shifted Bennett in her arms, glancing at Taylor sideways. “Did you ever picture that for yourself?” she asked lightly, like it was an afterthought. “Or has life been too crazy to even think about it?”

Taylor blinked at the question, caught off guard by how gently it was posed. She hesitated, running a finger over the condensation on her glass.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe. I used to, but… I guess I stopped letting myself think about it too much.”

Kylie nodded, like she understood. “I get that. But sometimes, the right person makes it easier to imagine.”

Taylor didn’t have a response to that. Not when her gaze drifted back to Travis, still on the grass with the kids, Wyatt clinging to his back while Elliotte shrieked with laughter.

She watched them for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself really imagine it.

A little boy with Travis’s big blue green eyes. A little girl with her curls. His strong arms holding them close, the same way he held his nieces now.

The thought made her chest tighten, but this time, it wasn’t sadness. It was something softer. Something warmer.

Something like hope.

⸻

The cabin was quiet, the low hum of the jet engine wrapping around them like a cocoon. Taylor sank into her seat, her fingers gripping the armrest as she exhaled slowly. She was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t settle.

She glanced at Travis beside her, his large frame relaxed, his hand resting lightly on her thigh, tracing absentminded circles. His touch was grounding. Steady. Safe.

So different.

And yet, as she gazed out the window, the past crept in before she could stop it.

The thought of forever—of love so solid it could stand the test of time—made something tighten inside her.

She’d believed in it once. She’d let herself believe it with every fiber of her being.

Flashback: May 2023

The terrace was bathed in soft moonlight, the hum of distant waves underscoring the tension that hung in the air. Taylor leaned back in her chair, the glass of wine in her hand forgotten as she listened to Matty’s words tumble out in a rush.

“You don’t get it, Taylor,” he said, pacing with restless energy, his voice raw and impassioned. “I’ve always loved you. You’re the love of my life—the loss of my life, if I screw this up.”

Her breath hitched, the confession hitting her like a punch to the gut.
“Matty, I…” she began, but he cut her off, dropping to sit on the edge of the table in front of her.

“No, listen to me,” he said, his voice softening. “I want everything with you. A house, a family. Marriage. Kids. I see it all so clearly, Taylor. You and me, building a life together. You’re my forever.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. It felt so real, so true in that moment, that she allowed herself to believe it.

“You mean that?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“More than anything,” he said, his hand reaching for hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “I love you, Taylor. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Her heart swelled, a cautious hope flickering to life. The wine, the moonlight, the way his words wrapped around her—it all felt like a dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

A shuddering breath left her lips. He looked at her like she was his whole world, like this was it—like they were it.

And she wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him.

So she did.

She let herself lean in, let herself fall. Their lips met, and it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, one that curled around her ribs and took root in the deepest parts of her.

That night, she let herself imagine it all. The life he painted with his words. The love he swore would never fade.

But when she woke the next morning, he was gone.

No call. No text. Just silence.

It wasn’t the last time, either. He’d ghost her again, and again, each time leaving her raw, hollowed out, questioning her worth, questioning what she could have done differently. And every time, it chipped away at the hope she’d dared to hold onto that night.

It was all in the song—L.O.M.L. The one track on her latest album she could barely bring herself to sing.

---
Present

“Tay.”

Travis’s voice pulled her back to the present.

She blinked, the flash of memory fading as she turned to him. His brows were furrowed slightly, concern flickering across his face.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmured, his deep voice pulling her back to the present.

She turned to him, her lips parting as if to respond, but the words caught in her throat.

“Tay,” he said gently, his eyes searching hers. “Talk to me.”

She hesitated, then exhaled. “I keep thinking about how different you are. How different this is.”

Travis’s brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering across his face. “Different how?”

“Safer,” she admitted, her voice soft. “When I told you about Matty... about that LOML being about him... I thought you might pull away. But you didn’t. You stayed.”

“Of course, I stayed,” he said firmly, his hand tightening slightly on her leg. “That song? That guy? None of it changes how I feel about you.”

Her chest ached at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s just... with Matty, I believed every word he said, every promise he made. And then he left me like I didn’t even matter. It messed me up, Travis.” She swallowed hard. “It made me question everything—my instincts, my worth. It’s hard not to wonder sometimes if...”

“If I’ll do the same,” Travis finished for her, his voice tinged with quiet understanding.

She nodded, her lips pressing together.

He leaned in, cupping her face with both hands. “Taylor, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been all in with you since day one, and I’ll keep showing you every day. You’re it for me. Do you hear me?”

Her eyes filled with tears, but before they could spill over, she kissed him, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the press of her lips.

The kiss deepened quickly, the tension between them sparking into something more. Travis’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer until she was half in his lap. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she let out a quiet gasp as he kissed his way down her neck.

“Travis,” she whispered, her voice trembling with want.

He grinned against her skin, his hands moving to cradle her hips. “Private suite?”

She nodded, breathless, and he scooped her up with ease, carrying her toward the small but luxurious sleeping area at the back of the plane.

Outside the door, security had the good sense to put on their noise-canceling headphones, pretending not to hear the absolute scene they knew would be unfolding in the suite.

---

The door shut behind them, sealing them off from the world.

Travis wasted no time, pressing her back against the plush bedding, his massive frame caging her in. Outside, the soft hum of the engines vibrated through the walls, a constant, subtle reminder that they were thirty thousand feet in the air. He grinned down at her, his eyes dark with hunger, his hands already roaming.

“You’re staring,” she teased, breathless.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, palming her thighs and squeezing, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin near her hips. “You’re stunning, Tay.”

His mouth was on her before she could respond, a slow, teasing kiss that quickly turned greedy. He tugged at her sweater, pulling it up and over her head in one swift motion, leaving her bare beneath him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his big hands cupping her breasts, squeezing, kneading. He dipped down, closing his mouth over one taut peak, his tongue hot and insistent.

Taylor arched beneath him, gasping as his teeth scraped over her nipple. He grinned against her skin, flicking his tongue before sucking harder, leaving her squirming beneath him.

“Trav—”

“Shh, baby,” he hushed her, tugging her leggings down with slow, deliberate precision. “Gotta take my time with you.”

She was already soaked, and he knew it, grinning as he spread her thighs wider, settling between them. The vibrations of the jet hummed beneath her, amplifying everything as he kissed a path down her stomach. When his mouth finally met her, she gasped, her fingers threading through his curls.

He licked into her with maddening precision, alternating between slow, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue that had her writhing. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as she tried to grind against his face, chasing relief.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice muffled as he devoured her, his tongue working her over until she shattered, her cries swallowed by the hum of the plane.

Before she could fully catch her breath, he was kissing his way back up her body, his hands flipping her over onto her stomach.

“Need to see this ass,” he muttered, palming both cheeks roughly before landing a sharp slap that sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

Travis gripped her hips, positioning her exactly how he wanted—on her hands and knees, her back arched, ass high in the air. He smoothed his palms over the curve of her spine, then landed another sharp slap on her ass, the sound echoing in the small cabin.

Taylor gasped, her fingers twisting in the sheets as pleasure shot through her. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was pressing the thick, blunt head of his cock against her entrance, teasing her with slow, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck, Trav,” she whined, rocking back against him, desperate to take him in.

He groaned at the sight of her so eager, so ready. “Patience, baby,” he muttered, gripping her waist as he pushed in, inch by inch, stretching her open.

She let out a choked gasp as he bottomed out, filling her completely. Her arms trembled beneath her, the sensation overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.

“Jesus, you feel good,” he groaned, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she knew she’d feel it tomorrow.

He pulled out slowly before driving back in, his deep, powerful strokes making her moan helplessly into the bedding. The force of his thrusts sent a delicious shockwave through her body, her breasts swinging with each movement.

Travis groaned at the sight, his big hands sliding up to cup them, squeezing greedily before giving her nipples a sharp pinch.

“Fuck, I love these,” he muttered, leaning over her, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder blade. “Love how they bounce when I fuck you like this.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic, like he was losing control. The sounds between them were obscene—the wet slap of skin meeting skin, her breathy gasps, his deep, guttural groans. The plane’s steady vibrations only heightened the sensation, every movement sending another wave of pleasure through her.

The pleasure built fast, her body tightening around him, her thighs shaking. She dropped her head, barely able to hold herself up as the tension inside her coiled impossibly tight.

“Travis—” she gasped, her voice breaking.

“I know, baby,” he rasped, his grip tightening on her hips as he drove into her harder, deeper.

Taylor shattered, her entire body tensing before pleasure crashed over her in sharp, relentless waves. She moaned loudly, her fingers twisting in the sheets as her orgasm ripped through her.

Travis groaned, his thrusts growing uneven, sloppy, before he buried himself deep with a strangled curse, his release hitting him hard. His hands trembled against her skin as he stilled, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades as they both caught their breath.

Travis pressed a lazy kiss to her shoulder, then rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she was sprawled on his chest, their bodies still tangled together.

He smoothed a hand down her back, his fingers tracing soothing circles against her damp skin.

“Think I broke you,” he teased, voice hoarse.

She let out a breathless laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

——

Travis kept her pressed against his chest, his strong arms wrapped securely around her. Their breaths were still uneven, their bodies still slick with sweat, but neither of them moved to untangle from the other. The hum of the jet engines filled the quiet cabin, a steady, soothing backdrop to the storm they’d just weathered together.

Taylor felt weightless in his hold, her body melting into his as he traced slow, lazy patterns along her spine. His fingers moved with an absentminded tenderness, as if he couldn’t not touch her.

After a long moment, he tilted his head down, brushing his lips over the top of her hair. “You’re gonna be the best mother one day, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion.

Her heart clenched. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch. It wasn’t just admiration. It was reverence. Certainty.

“You really think so?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her flushed skin. “I know so,” he said, unwavering. “You have the biggest heart, Tay. The way you love people—how fiercely, how completely…” He shook his head, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Our kids are gonna be the luckiest little humans in the world because they’ll have you as their mom.”

Her eyes burned, a lump rising in her throat. She wasn’t sure why—if it was the tenderness in his voice, or the certainty in his words, or the way he always, always made her feel so deeply seen.

She pressed a shaky kiss to his lips, letting it say everything she couldn’t in that moment.

She finally smiled, nodding. “Watching you with your nieces made me so excited for that. For seeing you as a Dad. For us.”

His hand smoothed down her back, settling at her waist. “Someday,” he promised, voice steady. “We will have those rings and cradles.”

“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.

He pulled her impossibly closer, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let go.

“Love you more, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing over hers. “Always.”

Chapter Text

Lover

Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And ah, take me out, and take me home
You're my, my, my, my
Lover

Travis POV
April 2024

The desert air was electric, alive with bass drops and neon lights. Taylor was a vision in her laid-back outfit—a black tank top, pleated mini-skirt with a built-in garter, and sneakers that somehow made her look even more effortlessly stunning. Her leather blazer swung as she moved, a casual armor that didn’t detract from her playful smile or the joy that radiated off her in waves.

She clutched his hand, weaving them through the crowd toward the stage where Jack Antonoff’s Bleachers were about to perform Coachella. Jack spotted them from the stage and waved. Taylor laughed, giving a little wave back, her joy infectious.

Travis felt the protective instinct hit him hard. While he loved festivals, Coachella wasn’t exactly his scene, but seeing her this happy—free, dancing without a care—made it all worth it. His large frame towered over most people in the crowd, and he couldn’t help but act as her shield, keeping her safe from any jostling or unwanted attention.

As the music picked up, Taylor turned to him, her arms lifting to wrap around his neck. Her smile was pure mischief. “I want to see,” she said. “I’ll lift you up, he grinned, lifting her easily up so she had a better view. As he placed her down her easy delight made his heart ache.

“Dance with me,” she said, pulling him closer.

“Dance?” He chuckled. “You’ve seen me try to dance.”

“I love it. You’re adorable when you try.” She grinned, tugging him into the beat.

And so he did. They swayed together, her laugh against his chest as he shuffled his feet awkwardly, loving every second of her delight. When the beat dropped, she threw her head back, laughing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Standing behind her, Travis cradled her face gently in his large hands, tilting her head back toward him. He watched the way her eyes closed, the glow of the stage lights reflecting on her features. His heart pounded.

“How are you real?” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. It was slow and deep, a perfect contrast to the chaos around them.

When they broke apart, her eyes fluttered open, and she reached up to touch his face. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“For what?”

“For making me feel so safe. For letting me have this moment.”

“You deserve every moment of happiness.” He kissed her again, tasting the faint tang of festival of her cocktails on her lips, and silently promised her he’d protect this joy of hers, no matter what.

---

Later, in the VIP section, they found their way to a circle of Taylor’s friends. Jack was grinning ear-to-ear, still riding the high from his performance. Lorde leaned in, whispering something to Taylor that made her giggle. Camila Cabello and Serayah were deep in conversation, while Martha Hunt and Austin Swift stood nearby, laughing over some shared memory.

Travis watched her light up in this circle of people, her energy infectious as she introduced him to more friends. She pulled him into conversations effortlessly, making him feel like he belonged in this glittering, artistic world she lived in.

Later, as the group wandered toward one of the smaller stages, Taylor slipped her hand into his and leaned closer. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Yeah?” he asked, his tone playful. “What’d I do this time?”
She smiled, squeezing his hand. “The way you handle people. You’re so aware of everything—reading the room, making everyone feel comfortable, fitting in with my friends like it’s nothing.” Her eyes sparkled as she added, “You just… get it. And I love that about you.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the chest, in the best way. “Tay, you don’t know how much that means to me.”
She grinned. “I think I do.”
——

Flashback: College, 2010

Travis sat at the kitchen table in his off-campus house, his textbooks and notebooks spread out before him. His head was pounding, and his frustration was mounting as he tried to wrap his brain around a particularly challenging assignment.
Jenna, his girlfriend at the time, walked in, her heels clicking against the floor. She glanced at the mess of papers with a frown.
“Are you still working on that?” she asked, her tone sharp.
“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “I’ve got a test coming up, and I’m trying to get ahead on this project.”
Jenna sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch and scrolling through her phone. “Travis, you’re making this harder than it needs to be. Maybe you’re just not cut out for this whole ‘student-athlete’ thing.”
Her words stung, but he kept his focus on the page. “I’m doing my best, Jenna. It’s just… a lot.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing. My friends always talk about how their boyfriends are killing it in their majors, and here I am with someone who’s barely passing. You’re great on the field, but off it? You’re not the smartest guy in the room are you…” She trailed off with a shrug.
Travis looked up, his chest tightening. “I’m trying, okay? This isn’t easy.”
Jenna waved him off, standing up to leave. “Maybe don’t try so hard. It’s not like anyone’s expecting you to graduate with honors.”
Her words echoed in his head long after she left, making him feel small and inadequate.

---

Present

The lights of the festival flickered in the distance, creating a surreal atmosphere as the crowd buzzed with energy. The bass thudded in his chest, and Travis could feel the electric vibe that made Coachella a different world. But for him, it was all about Taylor.

Taylor was standing across the VIP area, deep in conversation with Jack Antonoff. She was giggling, her cheeks flushed from the cocktails she’d been sipping all night. Her excitement was evident in the way she kept playfully nudging Jack, her whole body loose and carefree.
Travis leaned against the bar with Austin, his eyes naturally drifting back to her every few seconds. He couldn’t help but smile at how happy she looked, but he also couldn’t shake the slight unease building in his chest.

“You’ve got to relax, man,” Austin teased, clinking his glass against Travis’s. “She’s having fun.”
“I know,” Travis said, though his jaw tightened as he caught sight of someone new approaching Taylor and Jack.
It was a rapper Travis vaguely recognized, one of Ice Spice’s friends. The guy sauntered up with an air of confidence that immediately set Travis on edge. He leaned casually against the railing, inserting himself into Taylor and Jack’s conversation. Travis’s stomach knotted when he saw the way the guy’s eyes lingered on Taylor.
Austin followed Travis’s gaze, his expression hardening. “That dude’s way too interested,” he muttered.
Travis didn’t reply, watching as the rapper brushed Taylor’s arm lightly, his laugh just a little too loud, his posture just a little too close. Taylor, tipsy and lost in the moment, didn’t seem to notice. She laughed along with him, her head tipping back, completely unaware of the attention she was attracting from him.
“She’s too drunk to see it,” Travis said under his breath, setting his drink down with a sharp clink.
Austin straightened. “You want me to—”

“I’ve got it,” Travis interrupted, already moving.
When he reached them, Taylor didn’t notice him at first. She was laughing at something Jack said, her glass tipping slightly as she waved it in the air. The rapper leaned closer, his hand almost brushing her lower back as he murmured something to her.

Travis’s hand shot out, wrapping around Taylor’s waist and pulling her firmly to his side. The movement startled her, and she looked up at him, her smile widening. “Travis!” she exclaimed, her voice a little too loud, a little too drunk, “Hi, baby!”

The rapper looked him up and down, his smirk widening as if he wasn’t the least bit threatened. “Hey, man. Great set tonight,” he said casually, though his tone was laced with something Travis didn’t like.
“Yep,” Travis said flatly, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The guy smirked, clearly unfazed. “Nah, you didn’t,” he said, his gaze flicking back to Taylor like Travis wasn’t even there. His tone was smooth, but Travis could tell it was an attempt to disarm him.

Travis eyes did not leaving the guy’s face. His hand instinctively reached out, pulling Taylor closer, his arm draping possessively over her shoulders.

The rapper smirked, clearly unfazed. “Your girl’s got a lot of energy tonight. Fun to watch.”
Travis’s pulse quickened, the protective anger rising up like a tidal wave. He kept his gaze locked on the rapper, every inch of his body tense. “She’s mine,” he said firmly, his tone dark and uncompromising. “And you’re a little too touchy for my liking.”

The rapper’s smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered, flashing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I was just saying she’s got a vibe. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know how it is,” Travis growled, stepping closer, his presence a wall between the two of them. “And you’re crossing a line.”
Taylor, still oblivious to the tension, giggled and snuggled closer to Travis. “Travis, what’s going on?” she asked, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Travis kissed her forehead quickly, not breaking eye contact with the rapper. “Nothing, baby. Just keeping you safe,” he murmured, his voice softer for her, but the edge was still there when he turned back to the guy.
The rapper’s face hardened, his posture stiffening. He gave a forced chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off.”
“Good call,” Travis said, his tone final. He didn’t trust this guy as far as he could throw him.

The rapper gave a short nod, his gaze flicking to Austin, who had stepped up beside Travis, a quiet challenge passing between them. With a dismissive wave, the rapper backed off, moving toward the bar with a lingering glance at Taylor.

Austin leaned in, his voice low as he watched the guy disappear into the crowd. “You handled that well,” he said, his words laced with quiet approval. “That guy was way out of line.”

Travis’s shoulders relaxed only slightly as he pulled Taylor closer, the need to keep her safe still simmering beneath his skin. “I’m just glad you saw it too.” He looked down at her, a soft smile on his face despite the tension that still coursed through him. “You good, babe?”

She smiled up at him, her arm wrapping around his waist, oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded. “Yeah, I’m great. Let’s dance more.”

Don’t let that guy get too close again, okay?” Travis said, his tone much firmer than usual. “You’re mine, Taylor. And I’m not letting anyone take advantage of that.”

Taylor’s eyes softened, a look of affection crossing her face as she nodded. “I know,” she said, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “I trust you, Travis. Always.”

He kissed her forehead, his hand moving to the back of her head, keeping her close. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with protectiveness.

Taylor snuggled into him, oblivious to the tension in the air. “I know,” she repeated, her voice soft as she drifted closer to him. “You’re the best.”

But Travis couldn’t help but keep one eye on the crowd, the feeling of possessiveness growing deeper as the night wore on. Nothing was going to ruin this moment. No one was going to take her away from him.

She twisted in his arms, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. The world blurred around them, the music fading as they lost themselves in each other.

When the next set ended, Taylor turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. “Ready to head back?”

---

By the time they reached the house, Taylor had sobered up. She’d been giggling in the back seat when they first climbed in, her laughter light and carefree. But now, sitting quietly beside him, she seemed calmer, her head resting against the window, her breath even. Travis glanced at her every so often, his hand firm on her thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles over her tights.

She was his. Every laugh, every smile, every soft murmur—his. And yet, the thought of that guy at the festival, leaning too close, letting his eyes linger too long, still churned in his gut.

When they stepped inside, Travis didn’t say much. He slipped off his shoes, took her hand, and led her upstairs. She looked up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“Travis?” she asked softly, her voice still tinged with that post-drunk haze.

“Shower,” he said gruffly, his jaw tight as he guided her into the bathroom.

She let him undress her, her movements slow and pliant under his hands. Her shirt slid from her shoulders, then her skirt, her tights and garter, until she was standing in front of him, bare and breathtaking. His eyes roamed over her, his need for her intensifying with every passing second.

He turned on the shower, the steady stream of warm water filling the room with soft steam. Once they stepped inside, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The water cascaded over them, soaking his hair and running down his chest as he pressed her back against the cool tile. His lips found hers, claiming them in a kiss that was anything but gentle. He devoured her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as if he could taste every part of her soul.

Taylor whimpered against him, her hands threading into his wet hair. She was clinging to him, her body melting against his as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush to him.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough and low. “No one else gets to look at you like that. No one else gets to touch you.”

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

His lips moved to her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against her skin. Her head tilted back, giving him more access, and he took it, his teeth grazing the sensitive curve of her throat.

“You don’t understand,” he murmured against her skin. “When I saw that guy tonight…” His voice broke, his hands tightening on her hips. “I wanted to rip him apart.”

Taylor’s breath hitched, her fingers trailing down his chest, her touch feather-light but igniting something primal in him.

“Travis,” she started, but he silenced her by spinning her around, pressing her hands against the wall.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice dark and possessive as his hands roamed over her body.

“I’m yours,” she breathed, her words shaky but certain.

His hands slid down her sides, over the curve of her waist, before gripping her ass firmly. He pressed himself against her, his arousal hard and insistent against her back, making sure she felt every inch of his need.

“You’re my lover,” he repeated, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he spoke. “Every inch of you, every sound you make, every look you give—it’s all mine.”

Taylor shivered, her breath catching as his lips moved down her spine, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

When his hands slid between her thighs, she gasped, her body arching against him. He took his time, his fingers exploring her, stroking her until she was trembling under his touch.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice reverent even as his movements grew more insistent. “Every part of you.”

She moaned his name, her voice high and breathless, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. He loved hearing her like this, loved knowing he was the one driving her to the edge.

But he wasn’t done yet.

Lowering himself to his knees, he turned her slightly, guiding her so her leg rested over his shoulder. She gasped at the shift, her hands bracing against the wall as his lips found her again—this time somewhere far more intimate.

“Travis,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He took his time, his tongue stroking and teasing, edging her closer and closer to her breaking point. Her fingers curled against the tile, her cries growing louder as he held her firmly, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady.

“Please,” she begged, her voice shaking as her body trembled against him.

But he didn’t stop, not until she shattered, her release washing over her in waves as she called out his name.

When he finally stood, his eyes dark with desire, he pressed his chest to her back, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts. She was still trembling, her body sensitive and pliant under his touch.

Without a word, he slid his hands to her hips, his grip firm but gentle. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Is this okay, baby?”

Taylor nodded, her breath hitching as her voice came out soft but sure. “Yes. I want you, Travis.”
The sound of her words sent a surge of need through him, but he took his time, savoring the moment as he positioned himself. Gently, he guided her hips, moving with care as he entered her slowly, the sensation drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against her ear, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move.

Her hands pressed against the wall, her body arching into him as he thrust into her, each movement deep and deliberate.

“Travis,” she gasped, her voice high and breathless.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice softer now, the possessiveness replaced with something raw and tender.

As they moved together, the steam and water wrapping around them, he felt it again—that unshakable certainty that she was his, and he was hers, in every way that mattered.

When they finally collapsed against each other, the water still pouring over them, he held her close, his arms wrapping around her as if he could shield her from the entire world.

“You’re mine,” he whispered one last time, pressing a kiss to her damp hair.

Taylor turned her head, her lips brushing against his jaw. “Forever,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure.

And in that moment, standing under the stream of warm water, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just them, two lovers, completely and utterly consumed by each other, both wanting to be this close forever.

Chapter Text

You’re losing me
My heart won't start anymore ('cause you're losin' me) My heart won't start anymore ('cause you're losin' me) How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life? I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me I'm the best thing at this party (You're losin' me) And I wouldn't marry me either A pathological people pleaser Who only wanted you to see her And I'm fadin', thinkin'

May 2024
Taylor’s POV

You’re Losing Me

Paris shimmered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of her suite, the rooftops glowing gold under the midnight sky. The adrenaline from the concert still hummed in Taylor’s veins, but the room was winding down. She pulled her oversized sweater tighter around her as she crossed the suite, the plush carpet soft beneath her bare feet.

A knock at the door.

Jack Antonoff stood there, Margaret at his side, a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Brought you something,” he said, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. “And no, it’s not French. It’s that Oregon Pinot Noir you love.”

Margaret rolled her eyes. “He smuggled it in his suitcase.”

Taylor grinned, ushering them in. “You guys are the best. And you know I wasn’t letting you leave without a nightcap.”

She had insisted. After months apart, after this night—the first of her Eras Tour in France—she didn’t want it to end just yet. Jack had been there, Margaret too, and she wanted to soak in the post-show glow with them for just a little longer.

They settled into the plush seating area, Jack pouring three glasses before kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“So,” he said, swirling his wine. “France. That crowd was insane. Are you still buzzing?”

Taylor let out a breathy laugh, tucking her legs beneath her. “Oh yeah. I don’t think I’ll sleep for hours. They were incredible.”

Jack nodded. “They knew every word. Even ‘Crazier.’”

Margaret laughed. “Yeah, what was that? I didn’t know you were pulling out deep cuts tonight.”

Taylor shrugged. “Paris felt like the place for it.”

Jack was about to respond when Taylor’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a FaceTime call.

Travis.

Her heart did that stupid little flip as she picked up.

“Hey, superstar.” His voice was warm, familiar. His face filled the screen, a little sweaty, his curls damp—post-workout.

She smiled instantly. “Hey, football star. Where are you?”

“Back in KC. Just finished a lift.” His gaze softened. “How are you feeling? I watched the whole thing on TikTok live.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “The whole thing?”

He grinned. “Every second. Baby, you were unreal. I can’t wait to see you in 2 days and watch show 87. It’s going to be unreal.”

Warmth spread through her chest.

Margaret leaned over. “Hey, Travis.”

Travis’ face lit up as soon as he saw her, his grin stretching wide. “Margaret! And—Jack Attack, my guy! What’s up? Didn’t my girlfriend rock the stage tonight!”

Jack laughed “She was incredible.”

Travis smirked. “You already know”

Jack lifted his wine glass with a dramatic sigh. “She’s got us drinking Oregon pinot noir in Paris, Kelce. We’ve lost all control.”

Travis let out a warm laugh. “Oh, come on. You know she runs the show.” His voice softened as his gaze settled back on Taylor. “And she does it so damn well.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but the warmth in his tone made her chest tighten. Feeling flustered she tried to change the subject. “And here’s the view from Hôtel de Crillon,” she said, angling her phone to show the skyline behind her.

Travis let out a low whistle. “Damn. We need to have a wedding there. Can you imagine? South of France, private vineyard, unlimited wine…”

Jack snorted from across the room. “Subtle.”

Travis grinned. “Oh, hey, Jack, you guys still here?”

Taylor rolled her eyes but played along. “Oh, so now we’re just assuming there’s a wedding?”

Travis gave her a look, all cocky and sweet. “Tay, if you think I’m letting you get away, you’re outta your mind.”

Margaret and Jack exchanged glances, clearly enjoying the show.

Taylor felt warmth spread through her chest, but she kept her voice light. “Okay, Kelce. What’s your dream wedding, then?”

“Oh, I dunno. Just something small and low-key.”

Taylor arched an eyebrow. “You’re so full of shit.”

Travis burst out laughing. “Alright, fine. I want it big. I want a castle. Fireworks. A freaking parade.”

Jack chimed in, “You better get the Eiffel Tower involved somehow.”

Travis pointed at the screen. “See? He gets it.”

Taylor shook her head, biting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

Travis smirked. “Yeah, but you like me.”

She did. More than she wanted to admit.

Jack and Margaret were grinning like idiots, but Taylor ignored them.

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Kelce.”

He just smirked. “Am I?”

Jack choked on his wine.

Margaret burst out laughing. “Wow. Subtle.”

“Got to go babe, I’m on 1% battery here. I’ll call you back in the morning. Get some sleep. But check the front door.” Travis quickly ended the call

She blinked. “What—”

A second knock.

Margaret gasped. “No way.”

Taylor opened the door and froze.

A hotel staffer stood there holding a massive bouquet—A riot of Provençal wildflowers, blowsy garden peonies, and tea-stained Bourbon roses, tumbling from a gilded crystal vase.

There was a card.

To my queen of Paris.
You left every soul in that stadium breathless—especially me.
I love you like the French love croissants.
• TK

Jack read it over her shoulder and said, “Wow. Romantic and carb-positive. This man is dangerous.”

Margaret sighed, dreamy. “He’s like if a golden retriever and a rom-com hero had a baby.”

Taylor tried not to grin so wide her face cracked. She didn’t succeed.

Jack let out a low whistle. “You’re so in trouble.”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but her cheeks felt warm.

Margaret nudged her. “You’re smiling.”

They finished their wine, and after a few more teasing remarks, Jack and Margaret let themselves out, leaving Taylor alone in the quiet.

She sank onto the bed, tilting her head back, exhaling into the silence.

But her mind didn’t still. Instead, it drifted—to another dimly lit room, another conversation, another night spent untangling a feeling she didn’t have the words for yet.

A piano. A notebook. A song that had come too easily.

December 2021 – Flashback

You say, "I don't understand, " and I say, "I know you don't"
We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won't
Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light
Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time
Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?
I'm getting tired even for a phoenix
Always risin' from the ashes
Mendin' all her gashes
You might just have dealt the final blow

The melody hung in the air, delicate and raw, as Taylor sat cross-legged on the floor of Jack’s studio, notebook open, pen tapping against her knee. The words had come easier than she expected—maybe because they had been waiting, pressing against her ribs for months.

Jack sat at the piano, fingers lightly pressing the keys. “You’re sure about this one?”

Taylor exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. It’s the only way I know how to say it.”

He nodded, playing a few chords. “Alright, from the top?”

She inhaled, steadying herself before singing softly:

“You say, ‘I don’t understand,’ and I say, ‘I know you don’t…’”

Her mother stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching with careful eyes. Taylor didn’t notice her at first—not until the last chords faded into silence and Jack leaned back with a sigh.

“That’s heavy,” he said. “But it’s real.”

Taylor swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Andrea stepped forward then, clearing her throat. “Can we talk?”

Jack glanced between them. “I’ll, uh… give you a minute.” He squeezed Taylor’s shoulder before slipping out of the room.

Andrea sat beside her, quiet for a long moment before speaking. “Do you really feel like this?”

Taylor chewed her lip. “I don’t know. I just… I feel tired.”

Her mother’s face softened. “Relationships aren’t easy, honey. But if you’re feeling like this… is it just a rough patch, or is it something more?”

Taylor hesitated. “I don’t know anymore.”

Andrea was quiet for a beat, then gently asked, “Do you see yourself marrying him?”

Taylor’s breath caught.

Her mother pressed. “Do you want kids with him?”

Taylor stilled. She looked away.

Andrea’s expression shifted—subtle, but there. A flicker of something unreadable before she schooled her face into neutrality.

“You’ve always wanted kids,” she said carefully.

Taylor swallowed, fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “I don’t know if I do, Mom.” She gestured vaguely around the studio, at the lyrics scattered across the piano, at Jack still tinkering with the track. “My life is… this. And I love it. But it’s all-consuming. I don’t know if it’s fair to bring a child into that.”

Andrea studied her carefully. “Is that how you feel? Or is that what he feels?”

Taylor hesitated.

Andrea’s voice softened. “Joe worries, doesn’t he?”

Taylor let out a slow breath. “He does.” She dropped onto the piano bench, rubbing at her temple. “He worries about everything. The cameras, the security, the invasion of privacy. He says a child deserves a normal life, and that we’d never be able to give them that.” Her throat tightened. “That it would be selfish to try.”

Andrea didn’t speak right away. When she finally did, her voice was careful. “And what do you think?”

Taylor sighed. “I used to think we’d figure it out. That we’d find some way to make it work. But now…” She trailed off, staring down at the keys beneath her fingers.

Andrea reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind Taylor’s ear like she used to when she was little. “Sweetheart,” she said gently, “you’ve spent your whole life finding ways to make impossible things work. But this—this is different. You don’t compromise on a decision like this to make someone else feel better.”

Taylor looked up, a lump forming in her throat.

Andrea gave her hand a squeeze. “Just promise me, whatever you decide… it’s what you truly want. Not what makes things easier. Not what keeps the peace.” She squeezed again, firmer this time. “What you want.”

Taylor exhaled slowly, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she admitted.

Andrea frowned. “Oh sweetheart.”

“I am trying so hard to hold us together. I keep thinking if I just love him enough, if I just give more, if I’m patient and understanding and everything he needs, then maybe we’ll find our way back to what we used to be.” She shook her head. “But I’m starting to think we’re already too far gone.”

Andrea’s face softened, but she stayed quiet, letting Taylor keep going.

“I’ve given him everything, Mom,” she said, voice tight. “Every soft part of me. My kindness, my patience, my understanding. I’ve made myself smaller when he needed me to, I’ve quieted parts of myself so he wouldn’t feel overwhelmed, and for what? To feel like I’m begging for him to just see me?” She let out a short, bitter laugh. “I feel like I’m out there fighting for us every single day, and he’s—he’s watching from the sidelines.”

Andrea reached for her hand, squeezing gently.

Taylor swallowed against the lump in her throat. “And the worst part?” she whispered. “I don’t think I’d marry me either.”

Andrea’s grip tightened. “Taylor—”

“I mean it,” she cut in, voice raw. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to make people happy. Trying to be the person they want, the version of me they need. And now I don’t even know if I’d want me, either.” She looked down, voice barely above a whisper.

Andrea cupped her cheek, tilting Taylor’s face up so she had to meet her eyes. “Oh, baby,” she said softly. “You are the best thing that ever could have happened to him. And if he can’t see that, then he’s the one losing you.”

Taylor nodded, but the words echoed in her head long after the conversation ended.

Present

She fell asleep to those memories and was awoken by her phone.

Boyfriend 🏈❤️💛 FaceTime Incoming.

She answered, and his face filled the screen—curls damp, cheeks flushed, clearly fresh from a workout.

“Morning gorgeous girl,” he said, voice warm.

She smiled. “Hey babe. Thank you for the flowers. They are stunning!”

“You deserve it. Babe…shouldn’t you still be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping? You’re 6 hours behind!”

Travis grinned. “Touché.” He shifted, settling into his couch. “Just got off FaceTime with my nieces. Wyatt was showing me her soccer moves. I swear, she’s already better than me.”

Taylor laughed. “That’s not saying much.”

“Hey!” He clutched his chest. “Wounded.”

She smirked. “You’ll survive.”

Travis huffed but softened. “Nah, but seriously, they’re so damn cute. Wyatt kept asking when she’s getting cousins.”

Taylor’s stomach flipped. “Oh?”

Travis hesitated for half a second, then shrugged. “Yeah. And, y’know… someday, I really can’t wait for that.”

Her breath caught, but before she could say anything, he added, “Not now—don’t freak out. Like, in a few years. But I think about it.”

Taylor exhaled a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, how fun would that be? A little chaos machine running around, making messes, screaming for you to sing them lullabies.”

Something warm bloomed in her chest.

She hesitated, then said, “Did you ever think about baby names?”

Travis’ grin was instant. “Oh, hell yeah. I got a whole list.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow. “A list?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was obvious. “I mean, I don’t have ‘em written down or anything, but I’ve thought about it. For a boy? I like strong names. Maybe something classic, like James. Or something cool, like Knox.”

Taylor smiled. “And for a girl?”

Travis hesitated, then admitted, “I always kinda loved Eloise.”

Something inside her shifted. “Eloise?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Eloise Kelce Swift.”

Her breath caught. “You… you just put my name in there.”

Travis gave her a look. “Well, duh.”

She swallowed hard, staring at him through the screen.

He softened. “I mean, I know we’re not there yet. But when we do get there… I want us both in it. Fully.”

Taylor had no words.

Travis just smiled. “Anyway. What about you? Any names you like?”

She hesitated, then whispered, “Eloise.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

She nodded.

And in that moment, with his name on her screen and hers in his heart, the future didn’t just feel possible—it felt like home.

Chapter Text

This is why we can’t have nice things

It was so nice being friends again
There I was, giving you a second chance
But you stabbed me in the back while shakin' my hand
And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you
Get you on the phone and mind-twist you
And so I took an axe to a mended fence
But I'm not the only friend you've lost lately
If only you weren't so shady
This is why we can't have nice things, darlin' (yeah)
Because you break them, I had to take them away
This is why we can't have nice (nice things) things (baby), honey (oh)
Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?
This is why we can't have-
Here's a toast to my real friends
They don't care about the "he said, she said"
And here's to my baby
He ain't readin' what they call me lately

Chapter: This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

Travis’s POV

May 2024

The video call connected—and there she was. His baby.
Taylor, curled up in the middle of a too-big hotel bed, looking impossibly small. She was wearing one of his old Chiefs sweatshirts, the sleeves swallowed her hands, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her face was bare, blotchy, tear-streaked. Her red lipstick—her armor—was nowhere in sight. Her eyes were puffy. Her nose a little pink.

He swore under his breath.

“Tay,” he said softly, his chest tightening.

She looked up at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” she croaked, forcing a smile, but it cracked halfway and disappeared completely.

He leaned forward, gripping the phone tighter like it might help him close the distance. “What happened?” he asked, already knowing. Already furious.

She shook her head, eyes glistening. “It’s fine. I just—I feel stupid even saying it.”

“Don’t do that,” he said gently, but there was an edge under his words. “Don’t downplay it. Tell me.”

Her lips trembled. “Someone sent me the post. The clown emoji. Over my face. With a caption that said ‘some people will do anything for material.’” Her voice cracked. “And it was Pia, Travis. Pia.”

He went still.

“I know it doesn’t matter, I know it’s petty,” she rushed out. “But it hurt. It really hurt. I just feel so… exposed. And humiliated. Like I’m a punchline in someone else’s group chat.”

His jaw clenched so hard it ached. “You’re not a punchline,” he growled. “You’re the goddamn best thing that’s ever happened to me. Anyone who says different—anyone who posts that bullshit—is done. Gone. Out.”

He meant every word. Brittany had sent him the screenshots earlier in the day: Pia spreading lies about Taylor, calling her “obsessive,” “controlling,” and even insinuating she was only with Travis for songwriting material. The texts had been vile, dripping with jealousy and malice. Brittany said she’d had enough of staying quiet and this needed to stop.

His blood boiled at the thought of it. Pia’s audacity to attack Taylor—his Taylor—while he was halfway across the world was unforgivable.

She sniffled, curling tighter. “But you knew her. Before me. That’s what makes this worse. This isn’t a troll on the internet. This is someone you let in.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, fists tight at his sides. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I knew her. But I didn’t know she was this person. And I sure as hell don’t want her in my life now.”

Her voice was so small, so quiet. “Did anything ever happen with her?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to add to her pain. But he owed her honesty—especially now.

“We kissed,” he said finally, voice low. “It was nothing. A mistake. It meant zero to me. Months before I met you. That’s all.”

Taylor looked away. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think she mattered. But I get it now. I should’ve warned you. I should’ve protected you from her.”

Her hands twisted in her sleeves. “She’s still around. And now she’s trying to make me feel like I’m the problem. Like I don’t belong with you.”

Travis saw red.

“She doesn’t get to do that,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “She doesn’t get to look at you and try to tear you down. You’ve never been anything but kind. And strong. And brilliant. And I won’t let anyone talk about you like that—not while I’m breathing.”

She shook her head, a fresh tear sliding down her cheek. “I feel like I’m dragging you into drama.”

He almost shouted. “No. Tay. You didn’t drag me into anything. I’m yours. That means I stand next to you when shit gets ugly. I don’t run from it.”

Her eyes filled again. She looked like she was about to apologize—but he wouldn’t let her.

“She’s done. She’ll never come near you again. I don’t care how awkward it makes things. I don’t care who’s uncomfortable. You come first. Always.”

There was a long pause. Her breathing trembled.

“I just don’t know why she hates me so much,” she whispered. “I’ve barely spoken to her.”

“She hates that you’re everything she’s not,” Travis said, his voice sharp. “She sees you shining and it makes her feel small. But that’s not your fault. That’s hers.”

He stared at her through the screen—at the girl he loved, looking so vulnerable, so raw—and his whole body ached with the need to fix it. To hold her. To shield her from all of it.

Taylor’s voice cracked as she whispered, “She’s still in your life, Travis. And now she’s actively trying to humiliate me. How am I supposed to feel about that?”

Her eyes shimmered, glassy with unshed tears, and her voice—normally so steady, so full of wit and warmth—was barely above a whisper. Fragile. Fractured.

The tears welling in her eyes broke him. He clenched his fists, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re not supposed to feel anything but loved and protected,” he said fiercely. “That’s it. Protected and loved. Always. This is on me. I should’ve dealt with her sooner. But I’m dealing with her now. I had no idea what was happening between you two and I hate that I didn’t. She’s out, Taylor. She’s out of my life, permanently. I swear it.”

She looked at him through the screen, silent, her bottom lip trembling.

He wasn’t done.

“She doesn’t get to make you feel small. Or embarrassed. Or insecure. That woman is nothing to me, Taylor. She was never anything, and the fact that she used me to hurt you—I will never forgive that.”

His chest rose and fell with the kind of anger that came from love. “I should’ve told you about her. I should’ve shut that down harder, sooner. That’s on me. But don’t you ever question where I stand. You’re my future. You’re the love of my life. And I will burn bridges, end friendships, blow up my whole damn world if it means protecting you.”

Taylor swallowed hard, visibly shaken, her eyes now spilling over with quiet tears.

“You’re not dragging me into anything,” he said again, more tender now. “This isn’t your mess. It’s mine. And I’m cleaning it up. For good.”

She nodded slowly, wiping at her cheek. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

He leaned closer to the camera, as if he could pull her into his arms from half a world away. “I love you,” he said thickly. “So much. And I won’t let anyone make you feel this way again. You have my word.”

This time, her smile reached her eyes—just barely. But it was there. Small. Shaky.

But real. It wasn’t enough.

But it would be.

---

Flashback: 2022

Before Taylor, there was Pia—and she’d been relentless.

It was a few months before he met Taylor. He’d just signed with Pia’s PR firm, and she’d latched on fast. That night had started as a blur and ended as something he tried hard not to think about—because when he did, he felt sick.

It was after a home game win, and someone—maybe Mecole? maybe Clyde?—kept feeding him shots. He’d barely eaten. He remembered music thumping, someone pouring tequila straight into his mouth, and laughing too hard at something that wasn’t even funny.

He was already hammered when Pia showed up.

She slid into the booth beside him, tucking herself against his side like they were already a thing. “Traviiii,” she cooed, her voice syrupy. “You crushed it tonight.”

He blinked at her, vision double. “Mmmf,” he said, nodding slowly. “Y’saw the spin move? That… shit was crazy.”

She laughed like he’d made a joke. “You’re the whole damn show,” she whispered, and poured him another shot.

He didn’t remember agreeing to that one, or the one after. What he remembered was leaning back against the booth like gravity had tripled, eyelids heavy. The whole room tilted every time he tried to sit up.

“Trav, you’re fading on me,” Pia giggled, sliding his hat off and smoothing his hair. “C’mon, superstar. Don’t you wanna celebrate?”

He tried to speak but the words slurred. “Gonna throw up or sleep,” he mumbled. “One of those… in a minute.”

She pulled at his arm. “Let’s get you some air.”

The next part came back in broken pieces: a hallway, her hand under his jacket, him leaning against the wall because he couldn’t stand straight. Her breath on his neck. Her lips pressing into his.

He barely moved. Didn’t kiss her back. Couldn’t. His head lolled sideways. “Pia, nah,” he muttered, trying to lift a hand that wouldn’t lift. “No, no, no…”

She didn’t listen. Not at first.

It wasn’t until he tried to push her off—weakly, one palm to her shoulder, more of a nudge than anything—that she finally stopped.

“Pia, stop,” he said sobering up quickly, his voice firm.

She blinked, surprised. “What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t happening,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s not right.”
She’d laughed it off, pretending it didn’t bother her, but the memory still left a sour taste in his mouth.

And yeah—he’d pretended it didn’t happen. For months.

But now, sitting there years later watching tears gather in Taylor’s eyes over a stupid clown emoji posted by that same woman? That night hit him like a punch to the gut.

He should’ve handled it. Should’ve never let her into his life in the first place.

But he hadn’t known then what he had to protect.
Now he did.

And he’d never let anything like that touch Taylor again.

---

Present Day

The anger that had been simmering inside him all evening had only grown stronger by the time he found himself standing outside Pia Malihi’s office the next morning. It had been a long night, with only the lingering hurt from Taylor's eyes to keep him awake.

So now, here he was, standing at the door to Pia’s office, ready to demand answers.

He knocked sharply, and Pia's voice called out from inside. "Come in."

He stepped into the sleek, glass-walled office, finding Pia perched behind her desk, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her dark, perfectly styled hair and tailored outfit made her look every bit the professional publicist, but there was a coldness in the way she regarded him that made his skin crawl.
"Pia," Travis began, his voice tense, "we need to talk."
Pia raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "About what, Travis? I’m not sure what this is all about."
Travis didn't hold back. "I saw the clown emoji. I saw the rumors you're spreading about Taylor. You need to stop. Now."
The words hung in the air for a moment, and he watched as Pia’s carefully composed mask faltered slightly. For a split second, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—something smug, almost like she was pleased to see him upset.
She blinked, then leaned back in her chair, smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped, throwing his phone onto her desk, the screenshots from Brittany glaring up at her. “This? This is you. And don’t think I didn’t see that clown emoji stunt.”
Pia’s smirk faltered, but she quickly recovered. “It’s just a joke, Travis. People are so sensitive these days.”
“It’s not a joke when you’re actively trying to sabotage my girlfriend,” he shot back. “You think I don’t know what this is really about? You couldn’t handle being told no, so now you’re taking it out on Taylor.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re overreacting. And maybe you should think about how this relationship is affecting your image before you come after me.”
“My image?” he repeated, incredulous. “Taylor is the best thing to ever happen to me, and you think I’m worried about my image? Get over yourself, Pia. And stay away from her.”

Her facade crumbled, and she stammered, “Travis, you’re overreacting, I-“

“You’re fired,” he said coldly. “You’re done.”
He left before she could respond, slamming the door behind him.

---

Paris: Taylor’s 87th Show

By the time he boarded the plane to Paris, the anger had ebbed, replaced by a gnawing guilt. He hated that Taylor had been dragged into this nonsense. She deserved better.
When he landed, the city was alive with anticipation for her 87th Eras Tour show. He slipped into the venue unnoticed, joining Gigi Hadid and Bradley Cooper in the VIP section.
The moment she stepped on stage, wearing a sparkly yellow top and a red skirt—a nod to the Chiefs—his chest swelled with pride. She blew a kiss into the crowd before launching into “So High School,” and he couldn’t help but point from his eyes to hers as she sang, “Every time I look at you.”
The night was a whirlwind of emotions. She played his song “The Alchemy” during her surprise acoustic set, her voice raw with emotion. As she transitioned into “Treacherous,” he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
When the final notes of “Karma” rang out, she changed the lyrics as she always did when he was in the crowd. “Karma is the guy on the Chiefs,” she sang, smiling directly at him.
As the crowd erupted, he knew one thing for certain: Pia’s petty antics didn’t matter. This—Taylor, their love—was untouchable.
——

The 87th show had just ended, but Travis couldn’t shake the energy coursing through him. It was as if the world had faded away while Taylor took over the stage, and every song felt like it was written just for him. The way she sang, the way she moved—it felt personal.

He was certain everyone had noticed it too. When she’d performed “So High School,” the look she’d thrown his way was undeniable. The kiss she’d blown into the crowd before singing, *Every time I look at you,* had been a sweet, clear nod in his direction. It was like he was in the front row of a private concert—her voice and the entire performance meant for him alone.

He’d seen her glance toward him again when she debuted that stunning new outfit, red and yellow—a tribute to the Chiefs, no doubt, and her way of making it clear just how much she was thinking of him. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling like the luckiest guy in the room.

But it wasn’t just the performance—it was everything she did tonight that screamed “us.”

The concert was over now, and Travis had been waiting for this moment. He was here for her. Not just as a fan in the crowd, but as her guy. He was done with the rumors, the speculation, and whatever people thought they knew about their relationship. He was here to show her she wasn’t alone.

When he entered her dressing room, he saw her standing by the mirror, looking exhausted but so beautiful in her own way. As soon as she saw him, her face lit up, and she walked toward him, her arms opening wide.

“Travis,” she breathed, the relief in her voice making his chest tighten. She was happy to see him, and that was everything he needed right now.

“You were incredible tonight,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “It was like a private show just for me.”

Taylor’s eyes softened, a smile playing on her lips. “You caught that, huh?” she teased, stepping closer to him.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he replied. He wanted to say more—wanted to tell her how much it all meant to him—but words didn’t seem enough right now.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly at first, just to feel her close. She pressed into him, her hands running up his back, and that simple gesture made everything else fade away.

He gazed down at her, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I want you to know—you’re my priority. No one else.”

Her eyes searched his, a flicker of relief passing through them. She leaned in to kiss him again, deeper this time, her lips pressing against his with an intensity that matched his own. The kiss quickly became more urgent as they moved against each other. Travis could feel the tension in the air, the weight of everything they had been through.

She pulled back just slightly, her breath quick and shallow as she met his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, and in that moment, it was clear—she wasn’t just glad he was there physically. She was grateful for the support, the reassurance.

“You have no idea,” Travis replied, his voice gruff. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

With a sudden burst of passion, they kissed again, and this time, it was more than just a kiss. It was everything they’d both been craving. Travis pulled her closer, his hands sliding down her body, finding the zipper of her dress and easing it down.

“I’m here, Taylor,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m not leaving. And I’m not letting anyone or anything get in the way of us.”

She smiled, her hands moving to his chest, pushing his shirt off. “I’ve never doubted you,” she said quietly, her voice filled with warmth and trust.

He paused, looking down at her with complete seriousness. “No one else can come between us,” he said, every word full of conviction. “Not the rumors, not Pia, not anyone else. This—us—this is real. And I’ll fight for it.”

Taylor gazed at him with that look in her eyes—the one that made his heart race. She stood up on her toes, pulling him into a deep, heated kiss that made his pulse spike. She was all in, and so was he.

The intensity between them grew as they shed the final layers between them. Taylor’s fingers traced over his chest, sending electric shivers through him, and he was all too eager to return the touch. Their kisses were frantic now, both of them desperate for this closeness, the intimacy that only came when they were completely in sync.

Travis lifted her easily, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. As she kissed him again, he could feel the raw passion, the desperate need, the love. She was his, and in this moment, everything felt right.

And then, as the last remnants of the outside world faded away, their connection deepened even more. Travis could feel the way she responded to him, her touch, her warmth—it was everything. Their movements were in perfect rhythm, the world outside no longer a concern. It was just them—together, completely lost in each other.

As they both came to a breathless, shuddering halt, Travis held her close, his forehead resting against hers. His chest rose and fell, and she rested against him, her breath still unsteady.

“I’m here, Taylor,” he whispered again, his hands tracing circles on her back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, with her arms wrapped around him, her lips just a whisper away from his, everything felt perfect. The world outside didn’t matter. Only them.

“And here's to my baby, he ain't reading what they call me lately," Taylor murmured to him, he held her even tighter, knowing this was exactly where he was meant to be.

Chapter Text

The Archer

Easy they come, easy they go
I jump from the train, I ride off alone
I never grew up, it's getting so old
Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer
I've been the prey
Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
(I see right through me, I see right through me)

——
May 13 2024

Taylor sat cross-legged on the edge of the hotel bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone while Travis unpacked their bags in the adjoining room. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Lake Como, the late afternoon sunlight spilling golden light across the pristine suite.
She paused to check her calendar app, her thumb freezing mid-swipe as she registered the date. Her heart stuttered.
Four days late.
Her mind raced, trying to do the math again, but it all added up the same. She was never late—never. The pill had kept her cycle steady for years, and she was meticulous about taking it at the same time every day. But then her stomach clenched as she remembered the bug she’d caught a few weeks ago. Two days of vomiting, barely able to keep water down, let alone a pill.
Her phone slid from her hand as a cold wave of panic swept over her. She couldn’t be pregnant. She couldn’t.
Not now. Not when she still had six months left on her tour. Not when her schedule was booked solid with rehearsals, recordings, and appearances. She had plans—carefully laid plans—and a baby didn’t fit anywhere in them.

Her chest tightened as her thoughts spiraled. It’s just stress, she tried to tell herself. But she wasn’t stressed—at least not more than usual. She’d been religious about taking her pill, but even she knew that it wasn’t foolproof, especially after being sick.
Her breath came faster, shallower. This can’t be happening. Not now.
The tour. The interviews. The strict, relentless schedule she’d worked so hard to maintain. A baby didn’t fit anywhere in the life she’d spent years building. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed as a cold wave of panic washed over her.
What if she was pregnant? What if Travis wasn’t ready? What if—what if he left?
The thought hit her like a freight train, her chest constricting so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. She felt light-headed, her vision blurring at the edges. Her heart pounded, and she clawed at her chest as though trying to free herself from the crushing weight of panic.

“Taylor?”
Travis’s voice came from the doorway, sharp with concern. She didn’t respond, too consumed by the spiral in her head to notice him crossing the room.
“Taylor!” He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Babe, look at me. What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. “I—I can’t—Travis, I can’t—”
His eyes widened, and he immediately moved his hands to her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Hey, hey, you’re having a panic attack. You need to breathe for me, okay? Breathe, Tay. In and out, with me.”
He demonstrated, taking exaggerated breaths, his voice steady and calm. She tried to follow him, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her chest heaving as she struggled to speak.
“I—I think—” she choked out. “I think I might be pregnant.”
The words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything stilled.
Travis’s grip on her tightened as his face softened with understanding. “Okay,” he said gently. “Okay, Tay. Your period is late?”
She nodded, her breathing still erratic. “Four days,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I know I’ve been on the pill, but I was sick, and now—”
She buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. “I can’t be pregnant, Travis. I can’t. I still have six months of the tour left. I have everything planned. I’m not ready. What if you’re upset? What if—”

“Stop,” he interrupted firmly, his hands pulling hers away from her face. He looked her straight in the eyes, his voice steady but full of emotion. “Taylor, stop. I’m not upset. I’m not. I’m here. I will never leave you. I’m with you, no matter what. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together. You’re not doing this alone.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “But what if you leave? What if—”
“Taylor, look at me,” he said, his voice low but commanding. She stilled, her wide eyes meeting his. “I will never leave you. Never. You’re it for me, Tay. If you’re pregnant, we’ll figure it out. If you’re not, we’ll keep moving forward. Either way, I’m here. Always.”

Her chest hitched, his words breaking through the storm in her mind. “But I can’t handle this right now,” she whispered. “I don’t even know what I want. I’m so scared, Trav.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softening. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “I know you’re scared. But I promise, if you are pregnant, whatever you decide—we’ll do it together. I’ve got you, Tay. Always.”

She clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt as his steady presence slowly brought her back from the edge. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmured. “Just breathe. We’re okay.”

Travis’s voice grounded her, but the fear still curled around her ribs like a vice, pressing in, suffocating. She trusted him, she did—but fear like this wasn’t new. It was old, familiar, and deeply ingrained.
Because she had been here before.
Not with him.
With someone who made her feel small.
And no matter how much time had passed, the memory was still there, waiting for a crack in her defenses to remind her what it felt like to be alone.

---
Flashback
May 2016
The memory surfaced without warning, sharp and vivid, as if it had been waiting for a moment of vulnerability to strike.

Taylor lay beneath Calvin, staring at the ceiling as he moved above her in his London flat, his rhythm mechanical and detached. She had long stopped trying to find pleasure in moments like this with him; the sex was often uninspired, selfish, and over too quickly—or not quickly enough.

She stifled a sigh, hoping it would end soon. Her mind wandered to the song she’d been writing earlier that day, lyrics floating through her head like a much-needed escape.

Easy they come, easy they go
I jump from the train, I ride off alone
I never grew up, it's getting so old
Help me hold onto you

Then she felt it: a snap, a sudden shift. Calvin froze above her.

“Wait,” he said, his voice sharp, his movements halting. He pulled back slightly and glanced down, muttering a curse under his breath. “Shit. Taylor, it broke.”

Her stomach dropped. “What?”

He pulled away entirely, holding up the torn condom as if it were proof of her failure. “It broke,” he repeated, his tone already accusatory.

Taylor sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, her heart pounding. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” he snapped, throwing the useless condom onto the nightstand. “God, this is a disaster.”

Her chest tightened as his words hit her, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I—I don’t know what to do,” she stammered.

Calvin was already out of bed, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair. “We need the morning-after pill. Right now.”

Taylor blinked, her thoughts muddled. “I don’t even know where to get that here. It’s the middle of the night—”

“Figure it out!” he barked, his frustration palpable. “Call someone, look it up, go to a pharmacy—do something! Jesus, Taylor, you’re not some naive teenager. You’re an adult. This is your responsibility.”

Her throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered.

Calvin spun to face her, his eyes blazing with anger. “That doesn’t matter! Meaning doesn’t fix this! This is a nightmare, Taylor. Do you have any idea what this could do to me? I can’t have a kid. It would ruin everything!”

The word *ruin* echoed in her head, each syllable cutting deeper. “I’m scared too,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “But I don’t know what to do. I’m trying—”

“You’re trying?” he interrupted, his tone dripping with disdain. “Trying isn’t good enough! Stop crying and fix it!”

Her tears spilled over as she struggled to find clarity through the panic. “I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t know—”

“Unbelievable,” he hissed, his tone icy now. “I told you to get on the pill. I told you, Taylor. And you didn’t listen. Now look where we are. This is your fault.”

His words stung, each one like a dagger to her already raw emotions. She felt herself shrinking under his anger, the room closing in around her.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered again, her tears flowing freely now.

“Stop saying that!” he shouted. “Meaning doesn’t matter! Fix it! Now!”

The weight of his words pressed down on her, suffocating. She sat there, trembling, as he continued to rant, his anger a tidal wave that left her feeling small, powerless, and utterly alone.

---
Present

Her breathing hitched as the memory came back to her, the panic threatening to take over as she shook her head. “You don’t get it. I’ve ruined everything. I still have so many months left on the tour. I can’t do this. I’m not ready for this. I—I thought I was careful!”

Help me hold onto you.

Her knees buckled, and Travis caught her easily, sitting them both on the floor as she spiraled further. “Taylor,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “Look at me.”

She couldn’t. The memories were hitting too hard. The panic, the anger, the shame. Calvin screaming at her, his face red with frustration: “You need to fix this! Get the morning-after pill now. I’m not letting you ruin my life because you can’t handle basic responsibility!”
Her breaths turned to short gasps, and her fingers clawed at her throat as though trying to free herself from an invisible grip.

“Taylor,” Travis said again, his hands framing her face now, grounding her. “Breathe with me. In and out, slow. Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Her breathing hitched as the memory came back to her, the panic threatening to take over as she shook her head. “I’ve ruined everything. The tour, the plans—your life. I’ve ruined it all.”

“Stop,” he said firmly, his hands gently gripping her shoulders. “You haven’t ruined anything. You hear me? Nothing.”

He guided her through her breaths, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. When she finally met his eyes, they were brimming with calm determination.

“Listen to me,” he said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “We’ll figure this out together. Whatever happens, we’re a team. And I’ll never leave you. Do you hear me? Never. If you’re pregnant, we’ll handle it. If you’re not, we’ll make sure you never feel this scared again. But either way, you’re not alone in this.”

Her chest heaved as the panic clawed at her throat. “You don’t understand. This is exactly what happened before. The condom broke, and and—he—he freaked out. He yelled at me. He said it was my fault, that I needed to fix it, that I was going to ruin everything. I can’t—I can’t go through that again.”

Travis’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Wait… was it Joe?” he asked, his voice tinged with shock. “Joe did that to you?”

Taylor’s face flushed, and she shook her head quickly, her eyes pleading. “No, Travis. It wasn’t Joe. He wouldn’t—he wasn’t like that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “This was someone else, a long time ago.”

Relief softened his expression, but the hurt remained. “Okay,” he said quietly, cupping her face in his hands. “But whoever it was, I’m not him. Tay, I’ll never be him. You’re not alone in this, okay? Whatever happens, we face it together. You’re my person.”

Her sobs deepened, and he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured into her hair. “You don’t have to figure this out alone. I’ve got you.”

She clung to him, her fingers gripping his shirt as the tears flowed. “I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to,” he reassured her.
His steady tone and unwavering support calmed her enough to let her take a deep breath, though tears still streamed down her face.

“I’ll handle it, okay?” he said gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He grabbed his phone and stepped out into the bathroom.

Moments later, he returned, crouching in front of her. “I called Tree. She’s arranging for someone to bring a test discreetly to the hotel. No one’s going to know, and we’ll figure it out from there.”
Her lip trembled as she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I mean it, Tay,” he said, cupping her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. You and me, we’re solid. This doesn’t scare me. I promise.”

——

The test sat on the bathroom counter, its results glaringly clear. Taylor and Travis stared at it in silence before a burst of laughter bubbled up between them.
“It’s negative,” she said, her voice shaky but full of relief.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
Her laughter turned into soft tears, and she buried her face in his chest. “I’ve never been so relieved. But also…” She hesitated, looking up at him. “There was this tiny part of me that felt... disappointed. Is that crazy?”
Travis looked down at her, his expression tender. “It’s not crazy. I felt it too.”
She blinked in surprise. “You did?”
He nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I mean, yeah, I was relieved—it’s not the right time for you. But the idea of us having a baby? That doesn’t scare me, Tay. It makes me... happy. Excited, even.”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “Me too. I hope that in a few years, we’ll be looking at a test like that again. And this time, it’ll be positive.”
He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. “We will be. And I’ll be just as ready then as I would’ve been now.”
Her smile widened as she closed the gap, kissing him deeply.

—-

Later that evening, her period started, and they both laughed at the timing. “Well, at least we know for sure,” she said, emerging from the bathroom with a sheepish smile.

Travis already had a bottle of champagne out, popping it open as she approached. “Here’s to dodging babies,” she teased, as he handed her a glass.

She took it, then he raised it in a toast. “And here’s to someday being ready for one.”

Her eyes softened, she clinked his glass against his. “Someday,” she echoed, her voice full of promise.

They sipped their champagne, the weight of the day lifting as they sat together, already planning the future they knew they wanted—together.

They both laughed, leaning into each other as the champagne worked its magic, their love burning bright and steady.

Late that night, still buzzing from both the champagne and the relief, they decided to take a walk. The lake was breathtaking under the moonlight, the water shimmering with silver ripples. They strolled hand in hand, their steps unhurried and easy.

“Feels like we’re the only two people in the world,” Taylor murmured, her voice soft in the stillness of the night.
Travis stopped, tugging her gently to face him. “That’s because we are, Tay. Nothing else matters when I’m with you.”

He kissed her then, slow and sweet, under the glow of the stars. The world around them faded as they stood at the edge of the lake, wrapped in each other’s arms. Every so often, as they continued their walk, he would pull her in again, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her lips.

By the time they returned to their suite, their hearts were full, their love as boundless as the lake stretching endlessly beyond.

Chapter Text

Guilty as sin

Drowning in the Blue Nile
He sent me 'Downtown Lights'
I hadn't heard it in a while
My boredom's bone deep
This cage was once just fine
Am I allowed to cry?

I dream of cracking locks
Throwing my life to the wolves
Or the ocean rocks
Crashing into him tonight
He's a paradox
I'm seeing visions, am I bad?
Or mad? Or wise?

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh
Only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did
Messy top lip kiss
How I long for our trysts
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?

Taylor’s POV

May 2024

The Tribeca townhouse was still and quiet when Patrick arrived, his presence shifting the atmosphere like a storm front rolling in. The space suddenly felt less empty, yet somehow heavier—suffocating under the weight of something unsaid.

Taylor’s breath caught when security opened the door and saw him standing there. Patrick, Joe’s younger brother, the one who had once felt like her own little brother too. His familiar face, so much like Joe’s but softer around the edges, brought a rush of memories she wasn’t prepared for. The late-night chats, the dinners where they laughed until they cried, the anguished phone call when he’d warned her about Matty —the last real conversation they’d had.

Since then, there had only been silence broken by hesitant, polite messages. And now here he was, flesh and blood, standing in front of her with a guarded expression and an air of tension that didn’t belong.

He wasn’t staying long—just lunch, he’d said—but even that short visit felt like it carried the weight of a reckoning.

“Hey,” she greeted him, forcing a brightness into her tone that didn’t quite land. She led him into the living room, offering him a seat on the couch and a glass of wine. “I thought we could grab a bite, just hang out for a bit. You okay?”

Patrick accepted the wine with little enthusiasm, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on her. His usual easy charm was nowhere to be found, replaced by a measured stillness.

“I’m fine,” he said finally, the words quiet. “It’s just—been a while.”

It had been a while. A year, actually, since the implosion of her relationship with Joe. The breakup had been swift and brutal, leaving a gaping hole in her life that she hadn’t had the courage to face. Not with Joe, and certainly not with Patrick, who had been like a brother to her. She had kept her distance during the chaos of the Eras Tour, unsure of how to bridge the divide. But now, here he was, in town for work, and she could feel the tension building like a storm cloud.

“How’s New York treating you?” she asked, grasping for small talk to delay the inevitable.

“Couldn’t be better,” Patrick replied, his gaze flicking to the window and then back to her. He hesitated, then leaned forward, his voice dropping into something heavier. “But hey, we should talk.”

Her stomach twisted. She knew exactly where this was going, and the anticipation of it made her chest feel tight. Patrick wasn’t one to mince words, and if he was serious now, it meant she was about to be confronted with truths she wasn’t ready to face.

“You can tell me anything,” she said, her smile faltering as her voice wavered.

Patrick set the glass down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just going to say it. You and Joe... you didn’t need to end it the way you did. Especially not the way you did. Over the phone.”

The words hit her like a punch, sharp and unrelenting. She had expected something like this, but hearing it aloud still made her stomach drop. She opened her mouth to respond, but Patrick didn’t let her.

“And then,” he continued, his voice rising with barely restrained frustration, “there’s the whole thing with Matty Healy.”

Taylor’s breath hitched. The heat of shame rose in her cheeks, spreading through her chest like wildfire. She wanted to deny it, to argue, but there was no point. Patrick knew the truth. Everyone did, or at least enough of it.

“Patrick,” she started, her voice small and broken, “I didn’t... I didn’t cheat on Joe. Not physically, anyway. But—”

“But you were emotionally cheating on him,” Patrick interrupted, his voice hard. “You know that, right?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze, her eyes darting to the floor as the weight of his words settled over her. The memories surged forward unbidden, dragging her into their grasp. The late-night texts with Matty. The songs he sent her—raw, vulnerable, intimate. Songs like “Downtown Lights” that seemed to speak directly to her heart. And her replies—lines blurred, boundaries crossed.

Her thoughts had been consumed by him. She’d lie awake at night, the memory of his voice invading her mind, the lyrics he shared pulling her closer to something she couldn’t define but knew was wrong. She’d told herself it wasn’t cheating, not really, but deep down, she had known better.

Her breath hitched again as the shame clawed its way up her throat. She’d turned to Matty when she should have turned to Joe, seeking connection in the worst possible way.

Patrick’s voice cut through the storm in her head. “You know what you did, Taylor. You can’t deny it. It was wrong. And I get it—you were hurting. But you have to take responsibility for it. Joe deserves that much.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never wanted to hurt him. I loved him, Patrick. I loved him so much. But everything was falling apart, and Matty... he was there. He listened. He made me feel seen.”

Patrick’s expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. “I’m not saying you’re a monster, Tay. But it wasn’t fair to Joe. None of it was.”

The truth of his words struck her like a blow, leaving her reeling. She couldn’t argue, couldn’t defend herself anymore. All she could do was nod, her vision blurring as tears finally spilled over.

Her mouth opened, but the words tangled on her tongue. She looked away, the guilt and shame twisting inside her. But alongside it was something else—resentment, an anger she hadn’t dared to voice until now.

“Joe wasn’t perfect either,” she said finally, her voice sharper than she intended. “You think I didn’t notice? Toward the end, he barely looked at me. He’d be out at parties, flirting with other women, acting like I wasn’t even there.”
Patrick stiffened, his expression unreadable. “Tay—”
“He ignored me, Patrick,” she pressed on, her voice rising. “He shut me out, emotionally and physically. And yes, I turned to Matty, but it’s not like I was the only one who let things fall apart.”
Patrick sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Taylor,” he said, his tone softer now, “you know it was over by then. Joe wasn’t perfect, but you checked out too. You both did.”

Her breath hitched, his words cutting through her anger like a knife. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but she couldn’t. Patrick was right. By the end, the relationship had been a shadow of what it once was, both of them retreating into their own corners instead of fighting for each other.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” she said after a moment, her voice trembling. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I’m so sorry,” she choked out, the words barely audible. “I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Patrick stood, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes were kind but resolute as he looked down at her. ““I know,” Patrick said gently. “But you did. And he hurt you too. That’s the truth of it. But you have to own your part in it, Tay. For your own sake.” Taylor looked down silently and nodded.

You need to talk to Joe,” he said quietly. “You both need closure. And you need to face what you’ve done. Running from it won’t help.”

She nodded again, unable to speak, her hands trembling in her lap.

Taylor nodded, tears brimming in her eyes as the weight of everything crashed down on her. She wiped her face quickly, her hands trembling.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said quietly, though the thought of facing Joe again made her chest tighten.

Patrick stood, his expression softening as he reached for his coat. “Good,” he said simply. “You both need closure. And you deserve peace, Tay. But you won’t find it if you keep running from this.”

She nodded again, her throat too tight to speak. Patrick hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Take care of yourself,” he said softly. “And figure this out.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Taylor sank back into the couch, her mind spinning. Patrick was right. It was time to stop running. But facing the truth felt like stepping into a storm she wasn’t sure she could weather.

——
Flashback Spring 2021

It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons when they were all in the same city. Joe, Taylor, and Patrick had decided to take a day off from everything, escaping the usual chaos of their lives to just... be. London was crisp in the early spring air, the streets quieter than usual, and the three of them wandered through the city together, laughing as they joked about silly things.

They spent the afternoon in disguises in a cozy café in Shoreditch, sipping hot drinks, with Patrick teasing Joe about his obscure music taste, while Taylor added her own quips, lighthearted and easy.

“You’re not telling me you *still* listen to that album,” Patrick said with a raised eyebrow, looking at Joe in mock horror.

“I like it,” Joe shot back, grinning. “What can I say?”

Taylor laughed, leaning back in her chair. "At least it’s not as bad as your '90s Britpop obsession."

The three of them were so at ease, their chemistry palpable. Taylor was genuinely happy in those moments, caught between the two people who meant so much to her. The laughter and teasing felt like they could last forever.

But as the conversation swirled around her, something caught her attention. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was a message from Matty. She quickly glanced at it under the table, trying to keep her cool.

“Thinking about you. Miss you already. Think you’d like this song - The Blue Nile ‘Downtown Lights’ “

Her stomach fluttered. She stared at the words for a second too long, enough for Patrick to notice the shift in her demeanor. She quickly shoved her phone back into her bag, but not before Patrick’s sharp eyes had caught the message.

“Who’re you texting so intently?” Patrick asked casually, but there was something in his voice that made Taylor's heart race. It was the kind of question he’d asked before, when he was just joking around. But today, it felt different.

“Uh, no one,” Taylor replied quickly, a little too quickly. She tried to play it off, but the tightness in her chest made it hard to sound convincing.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Really? Because you’re not usually that glued to your phone when you’re with us.”

Joe, oblivious to the reason behind Patrick’s suspicion, just looked at her with a smile. “What’s going on, darling?”

Taylor, trying to deflect the attention, laughed it off. “Just a friend, Matty,” she said, her voice light but too quick. “No big deal.”

Joe nodded, looking up from his drink. “Matty Healy, right?” he said with a casual shrug. “Taylor and Matty have known each other for years. He’s her music friend. They went on a few dates years ago, but—” Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s a mess, to be honest. I mean, the guy’s a drug addict. No one in their right mind would date him. He's totally unpredictable.”

Patrick glanced between Joe and Taylor, a frown tugging at his lips. “Wait, what?” His voice was quiet, suspicion creeping in. “A drug addict?”

“Yeah,” Joe replied, laughing it off. “He’s a train wreck, but it’s like girls still loves him for some reason. Taylor was just being nice to him when they hung out a bit, but that was years ago. Trust me, he’s a disaster.”

Taylor stiffened. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt at Joe's nonchalant tone. She knew Matty wasn’t exactly a saint, but hearing Joe dismiss him like that made her feel small. But she knew she couldn’t argue. Not here, not now.

Patrick, however, wasn’t as quick to brush it off. His eyes lingered on her for a beat too long. “Hmm,” he muttered, his voice uncertain. “I don’t know, man. Seems like he wants more than just a ‘friendship’ to me.”

Taylor felt her cheeks flush, her stomach churning. She hadn’t meant for it to go this far, but she knew Patrick could see through her façade. And now, she was starting to wonder if Joe could, too.

Joe, still unaware of the undercurrent of tension, simply shrugged. “Nah, it was nothing serious. Matty’s... well, he's Matty, you know?.”

Patrick looked from Joe to Taylor, his expression tightening as the weight of the conversation sank in. There was a quiet tension now, like a string pulled too taut, and Taylor could feel it. She wanted to speak, to explain herself, but the words stuck in her throat.

"Sure," Patrick finally said, but Taylor could hear the doubt lingering there.

Patrick studied her with a knowing look, his gaze lingering just a little too long. He didn’t say anything more, but the tension between them had shifted, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw right through her

---
Present

Back in the present, Taylor’s fingers trembled slightly as she traced the rim of her wine glass, her guilt and regret catching up with her. She hadn’t meant to hurt Joe, but she had. Worse, she had let herself be drawn into something with Matty, a connection she knew wasn’t healthy.

The guilt was suffocating, and it wasn’t going to go away until she faced it. Patrick was just the messenger, but the truth was hers to own.

The weight of the conversation lingered in the air, and Taylor couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just broken something, something she could never fix. She poured herself another glass of wine, the alcohol providing a temporary escape, but the guilt never left.

As the door opened later, Taylor was still sitting on the couch, her head spinning. Travis stepped in, his bags from shopping slung over his shoulder, his expression immediately softening when he saw her.

He set the bags down and walked over to her, taking a seat next to her without saying a word. Taylor turned to him, the tears she'd been fighting finally spilling over.

“I messed up, Trav,” she whispered, her voice ragged with emotion. “I hurt him. I hurt Joe. And I hurt myself.”

“I wasn’t... I wasn’t getting what I needed from Joe,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she finally admitted it out loud. “It wasn’t that he didn’t care, I just... I felt like I was suffocating. We hadn’t really connected in months, and I started shutting down. And then Matty came back along and… he was different. He made me feel seen. I know it was wrong. I shouldn’t have let it happen, but I did.”

She closed her eyes, the weight of her own words crashing down on her.

“I wasn’t looking for anything with Matty,” she continued, “but he was there, and he listened. And I wanted to feel something again, even if it was just for a second.”

The confession left a hollow ache in her chest. But as she spoke, a part of her knew that this wasn’t about Matty—this was about her own mistakes, her own failure to confront the issues with Joe when she should have.

Travis sat silently next to her, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

When she glanced at him, his eyes were soft but serious. He reached over and gently took her hand, his grip firm but compassionate.

“I get it, Tay. I do. Relationships can be complicated, and you were in a tough place,” he said, his voice low. “But what I don’t get is why you let it go that far. Why didn’t you talk to Joe about what you were feeling? Why did you go to someone else?”

Taylor swallowed hard, the pain of the question cutting deeper than she expected. She didn’t have an answer that made sense, at least not one that was easy to say aloud.

“I was scared,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared that if I told him, it would be the end. But I was already halfway gone. I thought... I thought that if I let myself feel something else for just a second, it would fill the emptiness. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse.”

Travis let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his thumb over her hand in a soothing motion, but his expression remained serious.

“I get that you were hurting, but you’ve got to face it, Taylor. You can’t keep running from the truth. What happened with Matty? That was inappropriate. And you have to own that. You have to tell Joe what happened—be honest with him.”

Taylor winced, the words hitting her harder than she anticipated. She knew he was right. She hadn’t been physically unfaithful, but she’d crossed a line emotionally. And that was still betrayal.

“I’ll talk to him,” she promised, her voice shaky. “I’ll tell him everything. But I can’t go back and undo it. And I can’t undo how I hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him, Trav. I swear.”

Travis gave her a small, understanding nod. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt him. But you’ve got to make things right. For him, and for yourself.”

Taylor leaned into him, letting his warmth envelop her as she tried to find some comfort in his words. She had spent so much time running from the guilt, trying to bury it beneath her busy life. But now, it was time to face it.

“I just don’t know if I can fix it,” she whispered, the weight of her mistake threatening to crush her. “I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.”

Travis kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer, his voice steady. “You don’t know unless you try. And I’m here for you, no matter what. But you can’t keep hiding from this.”

She nodded against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace grounding her. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to him. But it’s going to be hard.”

“I know,” Travis murmured. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

As Taylor let herself lean into Travis, her heart still heavy with regret, she knew he was right. The only way to heal, to move forward, was to confront the truth. Even if it meant unraveling everything she had built in the wake of her mistakes.