Taylor Swift one shots

Hurt At The Eras Tour

The night had been nothing short of incredible. The crowd was alive, singing every word back to Taylor as she moved through her *Red* era. Travis stood in the VIP tent, watching with a mixture of awe and pride. He had seen her perform before, but the *Eras Tour* was something else entirely—a testament to her years of hard work, growth, and undeniable talent. Watching her command a stadium this size was breathtaking.

She was in the middle of "I Knew You Were Trouble," spinning and dancing with her usual energy, when something changed. From his vantage point, Travis could see her ankle twist awkwardly on the edge of a moving platform, her body faltering for just a second. To the crowd, it might have looked like a minor misstep, but Travis knew better. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw her expression tighten, the way she tried to mask the pain with a smile.

Taylor continued singing, but her movements were slower, more cautious. She limped slightly, shifting her weight to her other foot, and Travis could tell she was struggling. His protective instinct kicked in, his eyes narrowing as he watched her push through the song. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to rush out right then and there.

By the time she finished the final chorus, she was signaling to her team. The music faded abruptly, and the crowd, confused, started to murmur. Taylor limped toward the side of the stage, trying to keep her composure, but the pain was visible in her face.

Travis didn't wait another second. Without thinking, he left the VIP tent, moving quickly through the backstage area. Security tried to stop him for a brief moment, but they knew who he was, and the look on his face said it all.

He was worried—really worried.

When he finally reached backstage, the chaos was palpable. Her team was gathered around her, helping her into a chair. She was gripping the armrests tightly, her face pale, her leg elevated. Someone was icing her ankle, but she winced with every movement.

"Taylor!" Travis called, his voice filled with concern as he jogged over.

Her eyes snapped to him, and despite the pain, a soft smile spread across her face. "Travis," she breathed, her voice shaky.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, immediately assessing the situation. His large hands rested on her knees gently, his eyes scanning her face. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I...I twisted my ankle on the platform," she said, her voice strained. "I'm not sure how bad it is yet."

He glanced at the crew member holding the ice pack against her ankle, noting the swelling already starting to form. His heart clenched at the sight of her in pain. "You should stop the show. You need to rest," he urged softly, his voice low and serious.

Taylor shook her head, wincing again as the ice shifted. "I can't stop the show, Trav. There are thousands of people out there. I can't let them down."

He frowned, his protective side battling with his understanding of her dedication. "Taylor, no one is going to blame you for getting hurt. You've already given them so much tonight."

She leaned back in the chair, her breathing still uneven. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was setting in. But even in that moment, she was still thinking about the fans, about the show. "I just need a few minutes," she whispered, her voice a little weaker. "I'll figure it out."

Travis sighed, his thumb gently brushing her hand. He knew how stubborn she could be, how much she cared about her fans, but he couldn't stand seeing her push through this. "I'm here," he said softly. "Whatever you need, I'm not leaving."

Taylor's eyes softened at his words, the tension in her body easing just a little with him by her side. "Thank you," she whispered, her hand gripping his tightly. "I'll be okay. I just—need a minute."

Her team continued to check her ankle, the swelling worsening by the minute. A medic was called in, and Taylor tried to breathe through the pain as they examined her. Travis stayed close, one hand on her shoulder, his presence calming her.

After a few minutes of assessment, the medic looked up at her. "It's a sprain, but it's not severe. You're going to need to rest it, though. If you keep going, it could get worse."

Taylor nodded, her brow furrowed. She looked out toward the stage, the distant sound of the crowd still chanting her name. The thought of cutting the night short broke her heart, but she knew she had to be smart about this.

"I'll go out and say something," she said quietly, her voice filled with disappointment. "I can't leave them without saying goodbye."

Travis helped her stand, carefully supporting her weight. She leaned heavily on him as they made their way to the side of the stage. The crowd cheered loudly, unaware of what had happened, still waiting for the show to continue.

Taylor, with Travis at her side, stepped into the spotlight, and the cheers turned to concerned murmurs when they saw her limping, holding onto him for support.

"Hey guys," she said into the mic, her voice gentle but steady. "I just wanted to let you know...I hurt my ankle pretty badly, and I won't be able to finish the show tonight."

The crowd gasped, and she felt a wave of sympathy and love wash over her as fans started shouting words of encouragement.

"I'm so sorry," Taylor continued, tears welling up in her eyes. "I wanted to keep going, but I've been told I need to rest it so I can keep performing for you guys. I promise I'll make it up to you."

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, chanting her name in support. Taylor smiled, feeling the love and understanding from her fans, her heart swelling despite the pain.

With Travis still holding her close, she waved to the crowd, and they erupted again, showing her they didn't blame her. As they walked off stage together, she leaned into him, grateful for his strength and presence.

Backstage, Travis held her close, whispering, "You're amazing, you know that?"

Taylor smiled up at him, exhausted but relieved. "I couldn't have done it without you."

And with that, they left the stage hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next—together.