Tayvis one shots

Coach

You think you've seen it all in this game. I've been coaching for what feels like forever, and I've watched these guys go through it all—breakups, marriages, injuries, comebacks. You learn to tell when something's off or when one of your players is about to hit a big life moment. You just know. So when Travis Kelce knocked on my office door, something in the way he lingered there, leaning casually but with a kind of uncharacteristic hesitation, made me sit up a little straighter.

"Coach," he said, stepping inside without the usual swagger, "Got a minute?"

Now, that's not how Travis usually rolls. He's always Mr. Confident, walking in like he owns the place, whether it's the locker room or the field. Something about the way he was acting told me this wasn't about football. "Always for you, Trav," I said, gesturing to the chair across from me. "What's on your mind?"

He sat down, fidgeting with a piece of paper in his hand. That was the second sign. Kelce doesn't fidget. He's all ease and charm, the life of the team, always quick with a joke. But today, it was like he had something bigger weighing on him, something personal. I didn't push, though. I've learned that with guys like Travis, they'll get to it when they're ready.

"I, uh..." he started, clearing his throat. "I need to update my emergency contact."

Now that got my attention. Not because guys don't change their contacts from time to time, but because for Travis, that had always been a no-brainer. His brother Jason was his emergency contact, as natural a choice as you'd expect from two guys as close as they are. The Kelce brothers are practically twins in everything except birth year, and Jason had been the name on that line for as long as I could remember.

I gave him a half-smile, leaning back in my chair. "Jason finally had enough of you, huh?"

Travis laughed, but it was a little forced. "Nah, it's not that. It's just... well, things have changed."

There it was. That pause. That weight in his voice. I didn't say anything, just waited. Travis is one of those guys who, when he's ready to talk, he'll talk. No need to pry.

He looked down at the paper, smoothing it out on his knee. "I'm putting down a different number. Someone new."

I raised an eyebrow, not surprised but definitely curious. This was more than just a routine update. "A different number?" I repeated. "That's a pretty big deal for you, Kelce. You sure about this?"

He shrugged, but his eyes told me he'd thought this through. "Yeah, Coach. I'm sure."

I waited, watching him closely. Normally, a guy like Travis would've cracked a joke by now, turned this into something lighthearted. But not today. He was serious, more serious than I'd seen him in a long time. He handed me the form, and I glanced at it. There was a phone number written down, neat and clear. But there was no name next to it.

"No name?" I asked, looking back up at him. "You're gonna leave me guessing?"

He chuckled again, shifting in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck like a kid caught doing something embarrassing. "Yeah, I was... getting to that part."

I leaned forward a little, curious now. "Alright, Travis, spill it. Who's the lucky person you're trusting with this?"

He hesitated. That was the third sign. Travis doesn't hesitate. Not on the field, not in conversation, not in life. But there he was, pausing like he was trying to find the right words.

"It's... Taylor," he said finally, quietly but clearly.

I blinked. Taylor? I thought, running through the names in my head, and then it clicked. Taylor Swift.

For a moment, I just stared at him, trying to process what he'd just said. "Taylor," I repeated, letting it sink in. "Taylor Swift?"

Travis gave me this sheepish grin, the kind you'd expect from a teenager confessing to his first crush. "Yeah, Coach. Her."

Now, I'm not a guy who gets rattled easily. You can throw just about anything at me and I'll take it in stride. But this? This was a curveball I wasn't expecting. Sure, I'd heard the rumors. You couldn't turn on a TV or scroll through your phone without seeing something about Travis and Taylor Swift these days. But I'd written it off as tabloid talk, something blown out of proportion. I mean, come on—Travis Kelce, my tough-as-nails tight end, dating one of the biggest stars in the world?

But hearing him say her name himself? That made it real.

"Taylor Swift," I said again, slower this time, leaning back in my chair. "You're putting her down as your emergency contact?"

Travis nodded, his grin fading into something more serious. "Yeah, Coach. I know it sounds crazy, but... it's real. She's real."

I looked at him, really looked at him. This wasn't just Travis trying to impress someone or having fun with the media buzz. There was something different in his eyes, a kind of groundedness I hadn't seen in him before. I've known Travis for years—he's always been the guy who's in it for the fun, who loves the game, who's loyal to his family, but never one to get too deep into relationships. But this? This was new territory.

"You're sure about this?" I asked, more gently this time. "This isn't just some passing thing?"

He shook his head, no hesitation this time. "No, Coach. I'm sure. It's... different with her. I've never felt like this before." He paused, searching for the right words. "I want her to be the one they call. She's important to me."

That hit me harder than I expected. I've seen players go through relationships, but this wasn't the usual locker-room talk. This was something deeper. Travis wasn't just messing around here. He was putting down a name that meant something. He was putting down the name.

I glanced back at the paper, at the number, and nodded. "Alright, then. We'll make the change. But you're gonna make sure she knows about this, right? I don't want to be the guy calling Taylor Swift and explaining why her boyfriend's in the hospital."

He laughed, that big, booming Travis Kelce laugh, and for a moment, I saw a flash of the old, carefree Travis. "Don't worry, Coach. She knows. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that."

I shook my head, smiling at the absurdity of it all. Travis Kelce, my star tight end, was in a relationship with Taylor Swift, and not just that—he was serious enough about it to make her his emergency contact. If you'd told me this a year ago, I would've laughed it off. But now? Watching the way he talked about her, the way his whole demeanor had shifted, I believed him.

"Alright," I said, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder as he rose to leave. "Just make sure you keep your head in the game, Kelce. Love's great, but we've still got a season to win."

He grinned, back to his usual self for a moment. "You got it, Coach. Don't worry, I've got this."

As he walked out, I couldn't help but think about how much had changed for him. This wasn't just another headline or another chapter in the Travis Kelce saga. This was him growing up, finding something real.

And as I looked down at the updated emergency contact form, with her name finally written in next to the number, I realized that love had a funny way of sneaking into even the most unexpected places—even the heart of a football player who seemed to have it all.

Taylor Swift. Of all people. Life's full of surprises, but as long as Travis is happy, that's all that matters.

Coach Andy Reid, watching love make its way onto the roster in ways he never could've predicted.