TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

Birthday

Taylor's POV

It was rare for me to wake up without an alarm, but this morning was special. December 13th—the one day every year when I could guiltlessly let myself sleep in. Yet, even in the hazy bliss of my cosy bed, I could hear faint whispers coming from somewhere outside the bedroom door.

"Shh, Eliotte, you'll ruin it!"

"I'm not the one stomping, Wyatt!"

Children whispering was like cymbals crashing.

"Guys," Travis's deep voice rumbled softly, "if you wake her up before we're ready, there will be consequences."

I smiled to myself. 

The door creaked open, and I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep. Footsteps tiptoed closer, and a soft giggle erupted near my side of the bed.

"Alright," Travis said, now much closer, "on the count of three... ONE—"

"Two—THREE!"

The covers were yanked off me, and suddenly, I was bombarded by Wyatt and Eliotte, squealing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" in unison. Travis stood behind them, holding a tray loaded with pancakes, a bouquet of roses, and what I was pretty sure was a mimosa.

"You're officially 35, babe," he said, grinning. "How's it feel to join the mid-thirties club?"

"I feel so... wise," I said dramatically, pulling Eliotte into a hug. "Is that syrup I smell?"

"Only the finest for the birthday queen," Travis said, setting the tray on my lap.

"Wyatt helped pour it!" Eliotte announced proudly.

Wyatt snorted. "I did more than pour. I made the smiley face!"

Sure enough, the pancakes had a lopsided grin made of blueberries and whipped cream.

"Perfect," I said. "This is already the best birthday ever."

Travis' POV

Taylor deserved the world, but since I couldn't literally give her that, I'd settled for a birthday bash that was part cozy and part surprise extravaganza.

The morning was all about family—a slow breakfast, laughter, and letting her relax. By mid-morning, Donna had arrived to take over with the kids, giving us some rare alone time.

We sat on the couch, her legs draped across my lap, sipping coffee while Christmas music played softly in the background. Taylor was wearing this ridiculously oversized sweater, her hair still messy from sleep, and somehow she looked like a literal angel.

"You're staring," she said, smirking.

"Can you blame me?"

"Flattery will only get you so far, Kelce," she teased, leaning in to kiss me.

"Oh, just wait," I said, pulling out my phone to check the time. "The day's only getting started."

Her eyebrows arched. "What does that mean?"

"You'll see."

Taylor's POV

By noon, Travis was shepherding me out the door and into the car. He wouldn't tell me where we were going, but his smug grin told me he was pretty pleased with himself.

"Okay, spill," I said. "What are we doing?"

"You're about to experience greatness," he said cryptically, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of "You Belong With Me," which was playing softly on the radio.

We pulled up to a small art studio I didn't recognise.

"What is this?"

"Your first surprise," he said, jumping out of the car and coming around to open my door.

Inside, the room was set up for a private painting class, complete with easels, brushes, and a table full of snacks and champagne.

"It's like a paint-and-sip, but better," he said. "Because it's just us."

"Did you plan this?" I asked, touched.

"Well, I may have had some help," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Kylie said you've been wanting to try something like this, so..."

I threw my arms around him. "You're the best."

"Tell me that again after you see my painting skills," he joked.

Travis's POV

It turns out I'm no Picasso, but Taylor didn't seem to mind my weird, blob-like attempts at a sunset. Her painting, on the other hand, looked like it belonged in a museum.

"Okay, showoff," I said, pretending to be jealous.

"Art imitates life," she teased, sticking out her tongue.

After we wrapped up, I whisked her off to the next part of the day—a surprise lunch at her favourite Italian restaurant, where her closest friends were waiting to greet her.

Taylor's jaw dropped when she saw Jack, Margaret, Lana, and Sabrina all sitting at the table, waving like lunatics.

"You're all here?" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

"It's your birthday!" Margaret said. "Of course, we're here."

Taylor's POV

Lunch was perfect. We spent hours eating, laughing, and reminiscing, the table buzzing with energy. Every time I looked at Travis, he was already looking at me, his smile warm and proud.

But the surprises weren't over.

As we headed back home, I noticed the house looked different. Travis ushered me inside, where the living room had been transformed into a cosy, twinkling wonderland. Fairy lights were strung everywhere, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and the coffee table was piled high with my favourite snacks.

In the middle of it all was a brand-new turntable, spinning the vinyl edition of Lover.

"Surprise," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

"You really went all out," I said, my eyes misting.

"I wanted to make it special," he said softly.

Travis's POV

The day ended with us curled up on the couch, the kids fast asleep upstairs, and Taylor resting her head on my chest.

"Happy birthday, babe," I whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She looked up at me, her eyes shining. "This was perfect. Thank you."

"Anything for you," I said. And I meant it.