TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

long night with your hands up in my hair

A/N GUYS I GOT AIRBUDS AND ITS LIKE MY NEW OBSESSION SO IF YOU GUYS HAVE IT MY USER IS eve.taylors.version AND IF YOU DONT HAVE IT YOU SHOULD GET IT 

THE TITLE DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BUT I WENT THROUGH A LOT OF SONGS TO TRY FIND A SONG THAT SAID HAIR IN THAT MAKE SLIGHT SENSE INCLUDING SOON YOU'LL GET BETTER FOR SOME REASON

ALSO I HAVE PARENT'S EVENING TMRW I'M SCREWED AF

ALSO GUYS NEW MILEY CYRUS ALBUM HELLOOOOO?

also everyone is being so noticing this week like how did my eminem stan best friend manage to notice my creative writing project characters were based off of the folklore love triange

ALSO IM BORED SO LETS DO AN ASK ME ANYTHING - DONT BE BORING THO

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Travis's POV

I don't usually care much about where I get my hair cut. As long as my barber knows what they're doing and doesn't mess up my fade, I'm good. But my usual guy was booked solid, and my teammate Pat swore up and down that this little upscale salon in the city was worth checking out.

I wasn't convinced. A fancy salon? Not exactly my scene. But here I am, ducking through the door, immediately feeling like a damn giant in a space that smells like lavender and expensive shampoo.

"Can I help you?" A receptionist with bright pink nails and a headset smiles up at me.

"Uh, yeah. Got an appointment under Kelce."

She scrolls through the system. "Gotcha! You're with Taylor. She'll be right out."

Taylor. Nice name.

I sink into one of the sleek leather chairs in the waiting area, scrolling through my phone. It's been a long week—practice has been brutal, my body's sore, and I could use a win right about now. I just need this to be quick and painless.

And then I hear her voice.

"Travis?"

I glance up—and I swear my brain short-circuits.

She's gorgeous. Long blonde hair pulled into some loose braid, big blue eyes, and a smile that knocks the wind right out of me. She's wearing a fitted black top and jeans, an apron tied around her waist, scissors tucked into the front pocket. She doesn't look flustered to see me, which is a rare thing. Most people at least do a double take when they recognize me. But she just tilts her head toward the back.

"Come on back. Let's get you cleaned up."

I blink, scrambling to my feet and following her before I can embarrass myself further.

She leads me to a chair and drapes a cape around my shoulders, her fingers barely brushing against my neck—and, okay, why did that make my pulse pick up?

"So, what are we thinking today?" she asks, combing her fingers through my hair like it's the most natural thing in the world.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. "Uh, just a clean-up. Nothing too crazy."

She nods, meeting my eyes in the mirror. "Got it. You trust me?"

I smirk. "Guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"

She laughs, and damn, that sound is unfair. "Not really. But I promise you're in good hands."

Something tells me she's right.

---

I try to focus on literally anything else as she starts working, but it's impossible. Every time her fingers graze my skin, I swear I feel it everywhere. She tilts my head gently, her touch light but firm, and I swear my brain turns to mush.

"Relax," she murmurs, amusement in her voice. "I don't bite."

That makes me grin. "Didn't say you did."

She hums, her nails lightly scratching against my scalp as she sections off my hair, and I have to fight the urge to close my eyes and melt into the chair. The way she moves is confident, precise, but it's the little things that get me—the way she angles my head with just a touch, the way she brushes hair off my forehead like it's second nature.

I'm in trouble.

"So, you always this quiet in the chair?" she teases, glancing at me through the mirror.

I chuckle, shaking my head slightly. "Nah, just—" I hesitate, debating whether to say it. Screw it. "—wasn't expecting my barber to be gorgeous."

Her hands still for half a second before she smirks. "Flattery's not gonna get you a discount, Kelce."

"Damn," I say, grinning. "Thought it was worth a shot."

She laughs, shaking her head as she continues cutting. I let my eyes flicker shut for a moment, feeling the soft drag of the comb through my hair, the occasional brush of her fingers against my jaw. It's ridiculous how much I like it.

"You okay?" she asks after a beat.

I blink, realizing I've been quiet again. "Yeah," I say, clearing my throat. "Just—this is the best haircut I've ever had."

She raises an eyebrow. "I'm only halfway done."

"I stand by my statement."

She shakes her head with a grin, but I catch the way her cheeks turn just the slightest shade of pink. And just like that, I know I'm completely, utterly done for.

As soon as she turns to grab a different pair of scissors, I pull out my phone under the cape, quickly shooting a text to Pat:

Me: Bro. You failed to mention the hottest woman alive works here. I need details. Why did you gatekeep this from me??

Pat responds almost instantly.

Pat: LOL ohhh so you met Taylor. Told you the place was good.

Me: Good??? Pat, I need Jason to hook me up with some hair growth serum ASAP. I need as many haircuts as humanly possible.

He sends back a string of laughing emojis, followed by, "You're cooked, man."

Yeah. Yeah, I really might be.

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A/N SO IDK WHY I THOUGHT A TAYVIS HAIRDRESSER AU WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA BUT WHY DO I KIND OF LIKE IT AND WANT TO MAKE IT A FIC

I MIGHT NOT MAKE IT A FIC BUT I MIGHT CONTINUE IT AND DO SOME EXTRA PARTS

REQUESTS