Dancing with our hands tied- Taylor SwiftxFemale Reader

chapter -6

The air was crisp and cool, smelling of pine needles and damp earth. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, painting dappled patterns on the forest floor. It was a place of peace and quiet, a refuge from the clamor of the world. To y/n, it was the most beautiful place on earth, a place where she could simply be, where she could fully breathe and feel the joy of being alive, where she felt most at home.

And here, amidst the towering trees and the whispering wind, Taylor, her heart filled with love, had brought her. This special place was a world away from the lights, the cameras, the crowds, the expectations. This was their world, a little bubble of love and laughter, a place where Taylor wasn't Taylor Swift, the global superstar, but simply Taylor, the woman who loved y/n.

"Do you like it?" Taylor asked gently, her gaze lingering on y/n, her heart filled with love.

"It's perfect," y/n breathed, her voice filled with awe. "I can't believe you did this."

She looked around at the cozy cabin nestled among the trees. The logs were rough-hewn and warm, the windows small and inviting. A flickering fire danced in the hearth, casting long shadows across the wood floor. It was a place of simplicity, a sanctuary from the relentless pace of their lives.

"What else could I do?" Taylor asked, placing her hand gently on y/n's back. "You're my world. I want nothing more than to make you happy. To just be us, with no distractions, no interruptions. Just us, in the woods."

A wave of warmth, a sense of deep contentment, pulsed through y/n. It felt almost surreal. Just a few days ago, she was in the middle of prepping for the launch of her new clothing line, a whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and deadlines. And now, she was here, embraced by the magic of the forest. It was as if Taylor had stopped the world for a moment, just for her.

Taylor's fingers traced a gentle path down y/n's spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her. "Are you ready to unpack?," she asked, her voice a husky whisper that held a promise of intimacy.

As they unloaded their bags, the scent of pine filled the air, mixed with the faint aroma of coffee and sandalwood emanating from Taylor's travel-sized diffuser. Y/n unpacked her favorite pajamas, the ones with the softest fabric, and a book she had been meaning to read but could never seem to find the time for. The book, a collection of poetry by her favorite author, felt oddly symbolic. It seemed to mirror the complexity and depth of their love, a love that often felt as fleeting and ethereal as the wind.

Taylor, her hands covered in smudges from the charcoal grill, fiddled with the CD player, searching for just the right playlist for their retreat. She found it - a collection of acoustic songs she had written in the early years of their relationship.

"This was my favorite playlist back then," she confessed, her voice low and husky. "I used to think it was the most beautiful, romantic music in the world." She leaned against you, a gentle sigh escaping her lips.

"It still is," you whispered, tracing a gentle path on her arm, your heart filled with a love that transcended the boundaries of time and circumstance.

The room filled with the sweet, melancholy notes of their favorite songs. The music, a tapestry of delicate chords and yearning lyrics, filled the cabin with a sense of longing and reflection, a reflection of their own story, of their own love.

Then, in the midst of all the quiet intimacy, Taylor turned, looking into your eyes. She leaned towards you, her hands resting on your shoulders, her thumbs tracing patterns on your collarbone. It was a gesture of tender love, a touch that spoke volumes about their connection.

"Just us," y/n whispered, leaning into Taylor's embrace. Her heart, filled with a deep, abiding love, echoed with the sentiment. "No one else."

"Just us," Taylor echoed, her voice filled with the same sweet yearning. Her lips brushed against yours, a gentle, lingering kiss that spoke of a love that ran deeper than words could ever convey.

Taylor knew it was a temporary respite-the whirlwind of her tour was imminent-but she was determined to make the most of every moment they had together.

They spent the next few days exploring the forest, Taylor telling y/n stories of her childhood, her dreams, her hopes. She would recount anecdotes from her early years-being a kid in Pennsylvania, finding her passion for music. She told y/n stories about her parents, about her siblings, about her friends-every detail, every anecdote, a testament to the journey that had led her to this very moment, this present moment where she felt so blessedly loved.

They walked hand in hand along the twisting trails, their laughter echoing through the trees.

Taylor would tease y/n, pointing to a fallen tree or a rustle in the leaves, whispering, "There's a bear!"

Y/n would shriek in mock terror, throwing her arms around Taylor's neck, but then she would break into a joyous laugh, her entire body vibrating with the feeling of a love that was unburdened and free.

One afternoon, they found a small, secluded lake, its surface still and reflective like a mirror. They started throwing pebbles into the water, making wishes on each splash, acting as if it was a wishing well.

"Taylor," y/n shouted across the lake, her voice filled with a joyful exuberance. "I love you!" she called out, a joyous declaration of love that resonated through the stillness of the forest.

"I love you more!" Taylor responded, her voice filled with passion. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, y/n. You are my everything."

They stood there, their voices echoing in the quiet of the forest, as if they were the only two people in the world. And for a brief moment, they were. Their love, like the water, swept away all the complexities of daily life, leaving them with only their love, the beauty of the woods, and the silent echoes of their own voices.

Later, they sat side-by-side on a blanket beneath the canopy of a whispering oak tree. Taylor picked a strawberry from the basket she had packed for y/n. She brought it to y/n's lips and watched as her girlfriend took a bite.

"Delicious," y/n said with a sigh, the juice of the strawberry staining her lips a vibrant red.

Taylor, unable to resist, leaned closer to y/n. She traced the outline of y/n's lips with her thumb. "They're more delicious," she whispered.

She gently kissed y/n's lips, the kiss growing deeper, more intense, with each passing second. It was a kiss filled with a yearning, an unspoken longing, a passionate desire that had been building since the moment they stepped foot into the woods.

Y/n, overwhelmed by Taylor's touch, her body responding to the thrill of her girlfriend's affection, pressed a cherry into Taylor's mouth, her fingers lingering on Taylor's soft cheeks.

Taylor, swept away by the intensity of the moment. pulled out her guitar. She plucked the strings, the sound resonating through the quiet forest-a simple, pleading melody that was more a whisper than a song. She began to sing, her voice a soft murmur, her words echoing the longing in her heart.

"You're the only one who makes me wanna dance with our hands tied," she sang, her voice filled with a bittersweet yearning. "You're the only one who gives me a second to think ... 'Bout that feeling you gave me"(let's pretend she wrote that, and didn't released it, only exclusive for you🤧)

She was singing to her girlfriend, a song she had written about the complexities of their relationship, about the joys and the heartache, about the things they could have had, and the things they would never be able to have, all because of the cruel hand fate had dealt them. It was a love story trapped between the pages of a forbidden book, a love that had become a whispered secret. But it was also a love that would forever be woven into the fabric of their hearts, a love that would forever be a source of inspiration, of yearning, of hope.

Hi guys can't believe you love this thank you for the votes and reads, it means a lot to me, hope you like this book so far.