TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

Hot Dog Eating Contest

A/N today's episode of new heights was well funny so here's a chapter based on travis'  "scary" dream sorry I haven't updated in a while I'll be back on it asap i've been playing sad one direction songs all day iykyk

Travis' POV

I shot upright in bed, my heart pounding, sweat pouring down my face like I'd just finished the fourth quarter of the most intense game of my life. My chest heaved as if I'd run a marathon, and my throat felt like I'd swallowed a dozen bricks.

No, not bricks. Hot dogs.

The dream came rushing back, haunting me like the ghost of an all-you-can-eat buffet. I was on a stage, surrounded by a roaring crowd, my teammates cheering me on. In front of me? A mountain of hot dogs. Endless buns. Buckets of mustard. I'd been locked in a brutal eating contest with Patrick Mahomes of all people, his ketchup-stained grin taunting me as I shoved another hot dog into my mouth.

And I lost.

I. Lost.

It was a disaster. My pride? Gone. My legacy? Tarnished. Patrick raised his arms in victory, his hands covered in grease, while I sat there, defeated, unable to finish my 47th dog.

"Trav?" Taylor's sleepy voice broke through the fog.

I turned to her. She was blinking at me in the dim glow of the bedside lamp she'd just turned on, her hair wild and beautiful. Even half-asleep, she looked like an angel.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

I wiped at my face, realising how soaked I was. "I, uh..." I hesitated. How could I explain this without sounding completely ridiculous?

"Nightmare," I muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Her hand reached out, warm and comforting, resting on my arm. "What happened? Were you chased by fans? Did Jason tackle you in your sleep again?"

"No." I groaned, running a hand through my damp hair. "It was... a hot dog eating contest."

There was silence. I dared a glance at her. Her lips twitched, fighting a smile.

"A... hot dog eating contest?" she repeated, her voice dangerously close to laughter.

"Yes!" I said, more defensively than I intended. "It was HORRIFIC, Tay. You don't understand. Pat beat me. Patrick Mahomes"

Taylor's POV

I stared at Travis, his massive shoulders slumped, his hair sticking up in every direction like he'd just battled an actual demon in his dream.

And then he said it.

I tried so hard to keep a straight face, I really did. But come on—this man was in a full-on existential crisis over a dream about eating hot dogs.

"Travis," I said as gently as I could, biting my lip to keep from laughing, "it was just a dream. I don't think Patrick Mahomes is out there training for competitive eating."

"You don't know that!" he shot back, his eyes wide. "He's sneaky. He's probably got ketchup packets in his pocket right now, practicing his dipping technique."

That was it. I lost it. The laugh bubbled up before I could stop it, and soon I was doubled over, clutching my stomach.

"This isn't funny!" he said, but his lips were twitching now, too.

"Oh my God, Travis," I managed between giggles. "You're actually sweating over a hot dog dream."

He groaned, flopping back onto the bed, his head hitting the pillow with a dramatic thud. "I'm scarred, Tay. You don't understand the pressure. The crowd was booing me. I'm an athlete—I'm supposed to perform under pressure!"

I crawled closer to him, still smiling but softening as I saw how genuinely rattled he looked. I placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat start to slow under my touch. "Trav," I said softly, "you're one of the best athletes in the world. I think it's okay if you lose a fictional hot dog contest."

He turned his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You're not taking this seriously."

"No, I'm not," I admitted, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Because it's absurd and adorable. You're adorable."

Travis' POV

Adorable? I wasn't aiming for adorable. I was aiming for heroic, maybe even legendary, but the way she said it made my chest warm.

"You really think Pat wouldn't destroy me in real life?" I asked, because apparently, I couldn't let it go.

Taylor sighed, resting her chin on my chest now, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Travis, I think you could absolutely crush Patrick in a hot dog eating contest. You'd have a strategy. A game plan. A hydration schedule. The works."

I squinted at her. "Are you humouring me?"

"Definitely." She grinned, not even trying to deny it.

I couldn't help but laugh, the weight of the ridiculous dream finally lifting. "You're lucky you're cute," I said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.

"And you're lucky I love you, even when you wake me up at 2 a.m. sweating over imaginary hot dogs," she teased, but her voice was soft, affectionate.

"Don't worry," I said, my voice low as I played with her hair. "I'll get him back. Next barbecue, he's going down. I'll set the record straight."

"You do that," she murmured, already half-asleep again, her head resting on my chest.

As I drifted off, the absurdity of it all hit me, and I laughed quietly to myself. It was just a dream, after all. But if it ever came to a real contest? I'd be ready.

Because nobody— nobody — out-eats Travis Kelce.

A/N eww I hate this chapter inspiration was calling and I came up with whatever tf this was

requests hereeeee

I have abt 30 tayvis fics I'm reading rn so I've been obsessing over them so need to get back into updating this one and my other one. I'll try to take advantage of it now and make sure more are coming out soon. LOVE YOUUUUUUU

I'm making hwachae tonight he he 

ITS 3AM AND I'M SEVERELY DEHYDRATED