TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

Pedicure

Taylor's POV

I open my phone and see a text from Travis.

"In the ER. Broke my leg. Call u later"

I'd been in London for a quick work trip, and I was just about to head into a meeting when his message came through. The combination of worry and frustration hit me hard—worry because, obviously, he broke his leg, and frustration because he had a habit of downplaying literally everything.

By the time I landed back home, I'd already talked to him, his brother Jason, and his team doctor. He'd gotten through surgery fine, but now he was stuck with a full leg cast for the foreseeable future. When I walked into his place, I found him sprawled out on the couch, a mountain of pillows propping up his leg and a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"Hey, baby," he said, grinning. "Missed you."

I crossed my arms, giving him my best stern look. "You broke your leg, Travis. How did this happen?"

He shrugged. "Training camp. Slipped on a wet spot. Not my best moment."

Travis' POV

It wasn't my best moment, okay? One second I was going through drills, the next I was on the ground with my leg bent in a way it definitely shouldn't have been.

Taylor walked in like a storm in heels, her worried eyes scanning me from head to toe. I couldn't help but smile—partly because I'd missed her, and partly because I knew she was going to give me an earful for being so careless.

She sat down next to me, gently brushing her fingers over the cast. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah," I lied. It hurt like hell, but I wasn't about to tell her that. It would be a huge hit to my ego.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You're terrible at pretending you're fine, you know that?"

"Am not," I said, grinning.

"Are too," she shot back, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

Taylor's POV

After a few days of playing nurse—bringing him snacks, fluffing his pillows, and helping him get to the bathroom—I decided it was time for a little fun.

"Okay," I announced, walking into the living room with my hands behind my back.

Travis looked up from the TV, suspicious. "What are you up to, Swift?"

I revealed the nail polish bottles in my hands. "Pedicure time."

He blinked at me. "Come again?"

"You're stuck in this cast for weeks," I said, setting the bottles down on the coffee table. "We might as well make the best of it. Plus, your toes look sad. Let me help."

"My toes do not look sad," he argued, pulling his foot back like I'd suggested cutting it off.

"Oh, come on, Trav," I teased. "You're not scared of a little nail polish, are you?"

Travis' POV

Was I scared of nail polish? No. Did I want to sit there while Taylor painted my toenails? Also no.

But the way she was looking at me, her eyes all playful and challenging, I knew I wasn't getting out of this.

"Fine," I grumbled, propping my foot up on the table. "Do your worst."

Taylor squealed like she'd just won the lottery. She grabbed a sparkly blue bottle and got to work, humming as she carefully painted each toe.

"This feels like revenge for something," I said, watching her.

"Maybe," she replied, not looking up. "Or maybe I just like the idea of your teammates seeing this next time you're in the locker room."

"Evil," I muttered, but I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face.

Taylor's POV

By the time I finished, his toes were a masterpiece. I'd used blue for most of them cause 1989 duh, with one accent toe on each foot painted red, complete with tiny white footballs.

"Done!" I said, sitting back to admire my work.

Travis squinted down at his toes. "You painted footballs on my feet?"

"Of course," I said innocently. "You're the best in the league, remember?"

He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "You're lucky I love you, Swift."

"I know," I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"If you watch Love Island with me I'll give you nail polish remover before you go back to playing football" she offers and I basically have to agree because there's no way I'm going in looking like that. It does still mean I'm stuck with these things for about 6 weeks.

Travis' POV

A couple of days later, Jason came over to check on me. The second he saw my toes, he burst out laughing.

"What in the world, Trav?" he said, pointing.

"Taylor," I said simply, because really, that explained everything.

Jason shook his head, still chuckling. "You're whipped, man."

"Maybe," I said, grinning. "But you've got to admit—they look good."

Taylor's POV

Weeks later, Travis finally got his cast off, and the first thing he did was look down at his toes.

"They're still perfect," he said, wiggling them.

"Of course they are," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. "You're not getting out of pedicure duty that easily."

He laughed, pulling me close. "Fine. But next time, you're letting me pick the colours. I think red and gold are pretty good huh?"

"Deal," I said, smiling against his chest.

And just like that, I'd created a pedicure monster.  

A/N I CAN'T FIND A PICTURE OF WHAT I WANT TRAVIS' PEDICURE TO LOOK LIKE UGH

Guys I was randomly listening to The Last Time and the beginning just made me start crying on the bus like I can't even blame it on hormones cos I'm not on my period. *sobs in Red Taylor's Version* I'm also stupid cos I only just found out abt what the red scarf REALLY is the other day through the comments to my other fic and I was spirally when I was listening to All Too Well