Tayvis One-Shots

beach day

Taylor's POV

The car ride to the beach was quiet, the kind of peaceful I rarely got to experience these days. Travis drove with one hand on the wheel, the other comfortably resting on my thigh, occasionally giving it a squeeze when I shifted in my seat.

I adjusted the seatbelt, trying not to sigh in frustration as it dug into my chest and bump. Seven months pregnant, and everything felt like it was designed to remind me of it.

"Trouble?" Travis asked, glancing over with a grin that was way too pleased for my liking.

"The seatbelt wasn't made for people growing a small planet inside of them," I grumbled.

He chuckled, his eyes flicking briefly to my chest before snapping back to the road. "I don't know. Looks like it's doing a great job of highlighting some... assets."

I shot him a look, though I couldn't suppress the laugh that bubbled out. "Seriously?"

"What?" he said, shamelessly shrugging. "I'm just saying, pregnancy has its perks." His hand left the wheel to gesture vaguely toward my chest. "That's all you, by the way. I'm just here to admire the view."

"Real mature, Kelce," I said, rolling my eyes, though my cheeks betrayed me by flushing.

"Hey, don't act like you don't know," he teased. "Every dress you wear lately looks like it's about to wage a war trying to hold you in."

I slapped his arm lightly, shaking my head. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you."

"You're welcome," he shot back, his grin wicked.

We pulled up to a secluded stretch of beach, and I couldn't help the breath of relief that escaped me. No paparazzi, no fans, just sand, water, and privacy.

As we unloaded the car, Travis took charge, grabbing the beach bag and umbrella while I waddled behind him.

"Hold on," he said, stopping to loop an arm around my waist. "Can't have my girl falling and breaking something."

"I'm fine, Trav," I said, but I let him guide me anyway.

"Fine and glowing," he corrected, his voice dropping just enough to make me flush again.

Once we reached the perfect spot near the water, Travis got to work. He planted the umbrella, spread out the towel, and then started digging in the sand like a man with a purpose.

I stood there, hands on my hips, watching him with a mix of confusion and amusement. "What are you doing? Building me a sandcastle?"

"Better," he said without pausing. "This is for you."

"For me?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why do I need a hole in the sand?"

"Trust me," he said, glancing up with a cocky grin.

A few minutes later, he sat back and gestured proudly to his handiwork. "Go ahead. Try it out."

Still skeptical, I lowered myself onto the towel, easing down until- oh. My bump fit perfectly into the hole, taking the weight off my back and letting me lie flat for the first time in months.

"Travis," I breathed, staring at him like he'd just invented sliced bread. "This is... this is genius."

He knelt beside me, his grin smug. "I know. But you can say it again if you want."

"You're a dork," I muttered, though my smile gave me away.

"A dork who knows how to take care of his girl," he countered, his voice softening. Travis shifted closer, his eyes flicking down to the way my dress clung to my curves, and he leaned in, voice dropping low. "You're a damn sight for sore eyes, you know that?"