Snow On the Beach (Taylor Swift x Reader)

Dress

Taylor's POV

"She's straight?" The words circled around my head like a vulture eyeing its prey long after I'd gotten home. Thankfully Joe was at work so I had time to myself to think.

I don't think Lizzie and Y/n realised how loud they were being. I don't think they wanted me to hear their conversation, at least not that part anyway. Surely I'd just misinterpreted her tone. Why would Lizzie be questioning Y/n if I was straight or not? In a way that implied that I wasn't, even though I clearly was? Well, to everyone around me. No one knew. No one could know.

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November 2015

"You look amazing," I said. She looked hot.

"Thank you," Y/n said, giving my hand a squeeze, our bodies blocking the people around us from seeing. We were in a crowded room and others would steal occasional glances at us. Well it was more directed at me since even other celebrities were impressed by my fame but their interest didn't matter to me. They didn't know me. They didn't see the best in me at my worst times or when the lighting was unflattering on my face. But Y/n did. And so even amongst so many people, we still got to exchange secret moments.

"There's too many people in here," I said, "let's get a room and we can hang out in there." She nudged me playfully.

"You want to get a room with me, huh Taylor?" I had to turn her around and start pushing her towards the back to hide the heat rushing to my cheeks.

"In your dreams." She should see the things we do in my dreams.

I watched her body as she walked in front of me, my eyes dancing over her hips and her bare skin, glistening with perspiration. I had a glass of wine clutched in my hand from the club behind us and as the echoes of noise ebbed away, it left us alone together in a silence that we could control. If we wanted it to be loud, we could make it that way. But if we wanted quiet, we had that power too.

The room was what you'd expect from a club; it wasn't designed with comfort in mind. It's assumed purpose was for one night stands or for horny couples who couldn't resist themselves before they got home. The colours were dreary, beiges and browns, the bed taking up most of the space. Y/n was stumbling a little as she navigated the room, both our minds hazy with alcohol and she slumped down onto the bed, taking my hand to pull me down next to her.

"Let's play truth or dare," she said, switching on the bedside lamp and disturbing the darkness that had loomed over us moments before. Her fingers were intertwined with my hand still, naive to the sensations it was sparking across my skin. "You go first."

"Truth or dare?" I asked. She thought for a moment.

"Dare." Looks like we were jumping straight into the game today. This was probably very cruel but I wanted to make it more interesting. I had a feeling the drink in my hand might be encouraging this mindset.

"Wait, you need to record me saying this so we don't forget," I said, getting out my phone and passing it to her. She knew the password so it didn't take her long to turn the camera on, intrigued by my next words. "I dare you to get a buzzcut." Her jaw dropped.

"You're kidding." I shrugged.

"That's the game." Y/n gave me the middle finger.

"I'm going to kill you," she said, "truth or dare." I smirked. I might as well join in the fun.

"Dare." The spark in her eyes told me she was going to enjoy this. She passed my phone to me so I could film her.

"I dare you to bleach your hair," she said. Well, that wasn't bad at all. I was expecting much worse. I stopped recording and put my phone away. I didn't want any distractions tonight. I just wanted to spend as much time as I could with her.