Tayvis One-Shots

dangerous

I'm standing at the bar, taking a slow sip of my drink, when I feel it. That feeling, like someone's eyes are on me. I glance around, not really expecting much, but there she is.

Taylor Swift.

She's standing near the dance floor, the crowd swirling around her like she's some kind of magnet. But it's not just her looks, though she's absolutely stunning in that little black dress. It's the way she carries herself. There's this energy about her, a kind of confidence that pulls you in whether you want to be pulled in or not.

Our eyes lock from across the room. For a second, everything else fades away. I can't help but smirk.

And then she's walking toward me.

The way she moves, damn. It's almost like she's daring me to keep up with her. I set my drink down, all of a sudden a little more aware of what's happening.

"Hey, handsome," she says when she gets close enough, her voice low and teasing.

I grin, leaning in slightly. "Hey, yourself." There's something about the way she looks at me that makes my pulse pick up. "I didn't expect to see someone like you here."

She tilts her head, her lips curling into that playful, dangerous smile that makes every guy in the room take notice. "Someone like me?" she repeats, stepping closer. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

I chuckle, leaning on the bar like I've got all the time in the world. "Someone... unforgettable. Maybe a little dangerous."

She laughs softly, running her finger along the rim of my drink. The air between us thickens. "I like to think I'm more of a wild card. You sure you can handle it?"

I step a little closer, dropping my voice to match the intensity between us. "Oh, I can handle it," I say, matching her flirtation with a challenge of my own.

Her eyes sparkle, daring me. "You think so? What if I told you that you're not the one in control here?"

My heart beats a little faster. She's playing the game, and I can't tell if she's already won, or if I've still got a shot. I lean in closer, enough that she can feel my breath on her skin. "Then I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong."

She looks up at me with that devilish smile. "I'm not easily convinced, Travis."

Before I can respond, the DJ drops a new track, the beat heavy and rhythmic. She's already moving, gliding toward the dance floor like she owns the whole place.

I'm on my feet in an instant, following her, my eyes locked on the sway of her hips as she disappears into the crowd. Damn, she's good. She knows exactly what she's doing.

I follow her without hesitation, because this? This is a game I'm ready to play.

I catch up to her on the dance floor, the music vibrating through the air. She's already moving, her body effortlessly syncing with the beat, like she was born to make every head turn. And it works. The moment I step onto the floor, all eyes are on us, but none of them matter. It's just me and her now.

She spins, her eyes locking with mine, and then she gives me this sly, almost mischievous grin, like she's daring me to keep up. She steps closer, brushing against me, and I swear, the air around us crackles with tension.

"You're looking a little lost there, big guy," she says, her voice smooth, low, like she's playing a game she already knows she's going to win.

I raise an eyebrow, feeling the heat rise in my chest. "I don't get lost. I just like to take my time."