enchanted || taylor swift

forty- siriusly

[oct 2020]

WHEN THE COUPLE ARRIVED back in la from long pond, sam ordered taylor to bed rest, for the good of herself and the twins. sam took on the household chores and made sure willow was ready for the day, doing all the things taylor usually did.

the actress had gone to a tattoo parlour in late september with kevin mchale and jenna ushkowitz and had gotten a butterfly on her arm to honour naya- which she loved.

taylor was taking her bed rest badly. she ached to be able to go out, but she knew deep down that it was better for herself and the chances of the twins being healthy and on time.

sam wasn't even sure if you could count what she was doing as bed rest. herself, willow and the cats often finding themselves in bed with taylor, snuggling up to the singer.

one thursday morning, taylor awoke to sam nipping her neck softly.
"you know we can't have sex, right?" taylor questioned softly, raising an eyebrow.
"why not? i can put will in her room. and then we can get..it..on." sam grinned cheekily.
"no, sammy. dr stevens said no sex until the twins come."
"are you pulling my leg? because i will divorce you so hard." the actress asked, a disappointed look washing over her face.
"nope. you'll just have to wait." taylor laughed, kissing sams cheek and waddling into the bathroom.
"fuck."
"language."

two hours later, the family were back in bed. willow had fallen asleep a while ago, so sam crawled next to her wife with a smile.
"i'm bored." the brunette mumbled against taylor's skin.
"you're saying that to me? i've been stuck upstairs for the last week." the singer sighed.
"dr stevens said you can go downstairs, as long as your careful and don't do anything strenuous." sam recited, having read the doctors instructions repeatedly.
"i'm surprised you remembered that."
"me too."

"whatcha wanna do then?" taylor questioned.
"you know what i wanna do, but i can't do it." the younger woman said sadly, her face drooping.
"tell you what, every time we feel horny during this time, we'll write some music." the singer suggested.
"we're gonna be on your eleventh studio album by next week then." the brunette deadpanned, receiving a glare.
"sammy." taylor said sternly.
"okay, okay. i guess writing songs will give me an outlet for my sexual frustration."

sam groaned childishly as she stood up and grabbed a keyboard from a nearby room. there was usually some form of instrument in every room; she'd found a ukulele in the bathroom the previous day, so she knew there'd be something near.

when she returned to the bedroom, she saw taylor propped up against the headboard, her head buried in sams notebook.
"sammy, you should write your own album. these ideas are actually pretty good."
"i've thought about it before, but i think i'm better off as a co-writer for my favourite underground artist taylor swift." the actress said, sitting next to her wife.

"i like this one." taylor murmured, pointing to a song called 'forevermore'.
"i like that one too. it's depressing and i love it." sam grinned, "you wanna hear the bits i got? i think i've worked out the chords."
"yeah, yeah, go ahead."
the brunette smiled softly and began playing whilst singing.

gray november
ive been down since july
motion capture
put me in a bad light

i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone
trying to find the one where i went wrong
writing letters
addressed to the fire