Tayvis One-Shots

aftershow (m)

Taylor's POV

The night was a blur of lights, screams, and emotions, a perfect chaos that only the Eras Tour could deliver. The stadium was empty, save for the echoes of what had been, but my adrenaline still hummed like the final chord of All Too Well, refusing to fade.

I slipped into my dressing room, closing the door behind me with a soft click, and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a deep sigh. My body ached in the best way, feet sore from the heels, throat raw from singing, but my heart was full.

"You're late," came a familiar voice from the corner, low and teasing.

I turned, a smile tugging at my lips. Travis stood there, leaning casually against the wall, his broad frame somehow managing to make the already small room feel smaller. He was wearing a hoodie and joggers, effortlessly casual in a way that made my pulse quicken.

"Late for what?" I asked, arching an eyebrow as I tossed my water bottle onto the couch.

He smirked, his eyes sweeping over me in a way that made me feel like the only person in the world. "For me."

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed under his gaze. "The show ran long. You know, being Taylor Swift is a full-time job."

"Mm," he hummed, pushing off the wall and walking toward me, his strides slow and deliberate. "You looked incredible out there tonight."

"Thank you," I said softly, tilting my head to meet his gaze as he stopped in front of me.

"In fact," he continued, his voice dipping, "you looked a little too incredible. It was distracting."

"Oh, was it now?" I teased, crossing my arms and leaning back against the door.

He nodded, his hands finding my waist as he stepped even closer. "How am I supposed to sit in the crowd, surrounded by thousands of people, and pretend like I'm not thinking about you in this bodysuit?"

I glanced down at the shimmering fabric, glittering even in the low light of the dressing room. It clung to me in all the right places.

"Well," I said, my voice softening, "You won't have to think about it much longer."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm about to take it off."

His hands tightened on my waist, and his eyes darkened in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Tay," he murmured, his voice a warning, but his smile betrayed his amusement. "You're playing with fire."

"And you love it," I shot back, my lips curling up into a smirk. I pushed up on my toes and kissed him. It started slow, a soft press of lips that melted into something deeper, more consuming. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer, and I felt the tension of the night unraveling between us.

"Taylor," he breathed against my lips, his voice husky and filled with a need that mirrored my own.

"Yes?" I replied, my hands sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips.

"I've been patient all night," he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth as he spoke. "But you're testing me."

I grinned, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "Good."

He groaned, a sound caught somewhere between frustration and amusement, and in one swift motion, he lifted me, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.