TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

Call The Amateurs and Cut Em From The Team

Taylor's POV

The call came right after lunch. I was sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping tea and reviewing some notes for a song when my phone buzzed.

"Hello?"

"Taylor? This is Coach Reid."

Coach Reid? This should be interesting.

"Oh, hi, Coach! How are you?" I said, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Well," he began, clearing his throat, "I hate to bother you with this, but I figured you'd want to know."

My stomach tightened. "What's wrong? Is Travis okay?"

"He's fine," Coach assured me quickly. "Physically, at least. Mentally? Well, let's just say he's not being his best self out there."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He's not listening. Ignoring feedback, pushing back during drills, and honestly, he's been snippy with everyone—including Patrick. That's not like him."

"Not at all," I agreed, my frown deepening.

"I know you've got a way of getting through to him," Coach said, his voice almost conspiratorial. "I thought maybe you could have a word."

"Don't worry, Coach," I said, trying to suppress the mix of irritation and amusement bubbling up inside me. "I'll handle it."

Travis' POV

Practice was a disaster. I couldn't catch a break—literally or figuratively. My head just wasn't in it, and everyone seemed to have something to say about it. Andy Reid had given me more than one look, and Patrick was on me like white on rice.

"Dude," Patrick said after one particularly sloppy route. "What's going on with you today?"

"Nothing," I snapped, tugging off my helmet and glaring at the field. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine," he pressed.

"Drop it, Pat!" I barked.

He held up his hands in surrender but muttered something to Coach as he walked away. Great. Now everyone thought I was losing it.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted and annoyed. I opened the door, dropped my bag, and headed for the kitchen, ready to raid the fridge.

"Travis Michael Kelce."

I froze.

Taylor was standing in the living room, arms crossed, her expression as icy as a winter morning.

"Uh... hey, babe," I said cautiously. "Everything okay?"

"Does it look okay?" she said, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.

Taylor's POV

"Don't 'hey, babe' me," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Do you want to tell me why I got a call from your coach today?"

Travis blinked. "Coach Reid called you?"

"Yes, he called me. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is? Your coach shouldn't have to call me because you're acting like a brat at practice!"

"I wasn't acting like a brat," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.

"Oh, really?" I said, stepping closer. "Because according to Coach, you weren't listening, you were snapping at your teammates, and you were ignoring feedback. Sound familiar?"

Travis sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was just a bad day."

"Travis, everyone has bad days," I said, my tone softening slightly. "But you don't get to take it out on your team. They're counting on you."

He didn't say anything, just stared at the floor like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Travis's POV

I felt like a total idiot. Taylor wasn't yelling—she didn't need to. Her disappointed tone was worse than any lecture Coach Reid could give me. It was like she was my mom but worse.

"I'll fix it," I said finally. "I'll talk to Coach and the guys tomorrow."

"Oh, you're absolutely going to fix it," she said, her voice firm. "But tonight, you can think about your actions from the couch."

My jaw dropped. "The couch?"

"You heard me," she said, pointing toward the living room. "Go. Now."

"Come on, Tay—"

"Don't 'Tay' me," she said, cutting me off. "You need to think about how you're going to make this right. And maybe a night away from our comfy bed will help."

Taylor's POV

Travis looked like a kicked puppy as he shuffled toward the couch, blanket in hand. I almost felt bad. Almost. Good thing I'm not a dog person I guess.

I peeked into the living room an hour later to find him sprawled out, scrolling through his phone with a pout on his face.

"Hey," I said softly.

He looked up, his expression cautious. "Hey."

"I'm not mad anymore," I said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "But I need you to promise me you'll do better tomorrow."

"I promise," he said, sitting up. "I was out of line today. I'll fix it."

I smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Good. Now, get some rest, Grumpy."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin.

As I walked back to the bedroom, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. Travis might be a star on the field, but at home, he was just a big teddy bear who couldn't handle the couch.