TAYVIS ONE SHOTS

Caught In The Act

A/N let's not question the title shall we? i couldn't think of anything better so if anyone has a better suggestion lmk

this was a request so i hope i did it right xxx

ALSO I HOPE NO ONE ACCIDENTALLY READ THIS YESTERDAY  WHEN I FORGOT TO PRESS SCHEDULE AND DID IT NORMALLY 

Taylor's POV 

I was trying so hard not to laugh.

Travis, sitting next to me in a chair that looked way too small for his giant frame, kept bouncing his knee like an overgrown teenager who'd just been caught sneaking out past curfew.

I, on the other hand, was doing my best to maintain my dignity—despite the fact that we'd just been caught heavily making out in the Chiefs' locker room. Again.

And now, we were sitting in Coach Reid's office, waiting for him like two kids sent to the principal's office.

I turned to glare at Travis, who, instead of looking the least bit remorseful, had an infuriatingly smug little smirk playing on his lips.

"Stop looking so pleased with yourself," I whispered.

He let out a low chuckle. "Baby, I'm not pleased. I'm proud."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "We are literally about to get a stern talking-to from your coach because we can't keep our hands off each other. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?"

"Uh, yeah." He slung an arm around the back of my chair, completely unbothered. "But also, kinda hot."

"Travis," I hissed, elbowing him. "Not the time."

He winced playfully. "Alright, alright, I'll be good." Then, after a beat, he added under his breath, "Until the next time we get caught."

I turned to him, scandalised. "There won't be a next time!"

Travis just winked.

Oh, this man.

Before I could tell him just how not funny this situation was, the door opened.

And in walked Coach Reid.

Travis' POV 

Alright. Maybe, just maybe, this was a little embarrassing.

Coach sat down behind his desk, clasped his hands together, and just... stared at us.

Silence.

A long, heavy, why-do-I-have-to-deal-with-this kind of silence.

I cleared my throat. "So, uh... how's your day going, Coach?"

Taylor pinched my thigh so hard I nearly yelped.

Coach let out a long, very tired sigh. "Kelce."

"Sir."

"Miss Swift."

Taylor sat up straighter. "Yes, Coach."

He exhaled again, shaking his head. "This is the third time."

I shifted. "Technically the second. The first time was more of a close call."

Taylor shot me a look.

Coach just rubbed his temples. "I don't know if you two think the locker room is some kind of honeymoon suite, but let me be very clear—it is not."

Taylor looked mortified. Her cheeks were pink, her lips pressed together like she was trying very hard not to die of embarrassment.

I, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to crack a smile.

Because, really? The whole thing *was* kinda funny.

"I get it," Coach continued. "You're in love. It's adorable. But for the love of all things football, stop using my locker room for your personal date nights."

Taylor groaned. "I am so sorry, Coach. It won't happen again."

I nodded. "Yeah, totally. Not gonna happen again."

Coach leveled me with a deadpan look. "Kelce, I've known you for years. That's a lie."

I tried. I really did. But I couldn't hold back the smirk. "Fair enough."

Taylor smacked my arm.

Coach just shook his head. "I'm not suspending you. I'm not fining you. But if I catch you one more time—I swear on every playbook I own—I'm making you both run suicides until your legs give out."

Taylor's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, you would make me run, wouldn't you?"

"Try me."

She turned to me. "Travis."

I held up my hands. "Alright, alright. We'll keep it PG from now on."

Coach eyed me like he knew I was full of shit. "Get out of my office."

Taylor practically flew out of her chair, muttering a breathless, "Thank you, Andy!" before grabbing my hand and dragging me out with her.

We didn't stop moving until we were out in the hallway.

And then, as soon as we made it to an empty corridor—she smacked my arm.

"What is wrong with you?!" she whisper-yelled.

I grinned, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close. "What? You don't think this is a little funny?"

She crossed her arms, trying to look stern. "Travis, I had to sit in that office, with your coach, while he lectured us about how the locker room isn't a honeymoon suite."

I laughed. "I mean, technically, it's not not—"

Another smack.

I caught her wrist and kissed her palm. "Aw, come on, baby. If nothing else, it's a great story."

She sighed, still glaring, but I could tell she was this close to cracking a smile. "We are never doing that again."

I tilted my head. "Define 'never.'"

"Travis."

I grinned, nuzzling my face into her neck. "This could make a great song, you know."

A/N I AM FULLY AWARE MY WRITING IS CRINGE AND AWFUL AND DEFINITELY NOT WORTHY OF EVER BEING READ BY ANYONE. DON'T JUDGE PLS IK IT'S RLLY BAD BUT OH WELL I FEAR IF I STOP BUNNAUR WILL COME OVER TO MY HOUSE AND MAKE ME LISTEN TO KYLIE CANTRALL WITH HER NON STOP FOREVERMORE 

REQUESTS

IM ACC SO SMART I WROTE THIS TWO DAYS AGO