Electric Touch - Tayvis One Shots

8. Dont Freak Out

Honestly, I'm starting to believe that I am beyond help. Like, what the actual fuck? How does my brain come up with this shit?

As always, let me know what you think. I love reading y'all's thoughts and reactions.

Also, um, *Smut Warning* ⚠️ + *Daddy Kink Warning*(do you guys need a daddy kink warning at this point? I feel like it should just be a given, honestly.)

Anyways... Enjoy the chapter. Or don't. I'm not the boss of you.

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After breakfast, Taylor sits on the counter as Travis puts the dishes in the dishwasher. When he's done, Travis wraps his arms around Taylor.

"Are you okay with everything we did last night, Princess?" His eyes bore into hers, searching for any countenance of hesitation or regret.

Taylor's bottom lip finds home in between her teeth. She nods to him with fervor.

"Can you use your words for me?" His hand runs through her long blonde locks.

"Yes, Daddy." She answers, a slight waver in her voice actually calling him 'Daddy' for the first time.

Travis's lips form into a wide grin. He leans in to place a soft kiss on her lips. "Good job using your words, Princess," he praises.

Taylor's cheeks turn red, and she hides her face in his chest. "Ngh."

"What is it, baby?" He asks with a smile.

"Hmph," she sighs into him.

His hand runs up and down her back. "C'mon, Princess. Use your words," he coaxes.

"No," she sasses as she buries her head harder into his chest.

Travis uses his index finger to lift her head up, forcing her eyes to makes contact with his. He raises one eyebrow dauntingly. "Do you want to try that again?" he asks, his voice gruff.

Taylor's breath hitches. Her pupils dilate. She takes a second to think: Does she want to be a good girl or does she want to see what disobeying will get her?

"No, thank you, Daddy," she says sweetly with an innocent smile displayed on her lips.

"That's better, but you know it's not what I want."

Taylor attempts to hide her face back into his chest. "Ennh."

Travis pulls her head back out from his chest; his grip on her chin is harder now so that she can't pull away. "This is your last warning, Princess. Use. Your. Words."

Taylor's bottom lip forms into a pout. "B-but words are haaard," she whines.

Travis blinks for a second; his mind tries to wrap around what she just said. An incredulous look forms on his face. "Baby, you have 12 Grammys that prove otherwise."

"Yeah... well, th-that's songwriting. It's different," she stammers.

He sits in the bar stool and pulls her into his lap. "Princess, I don't care how you tell me. You just gotta tell me. You can sing it if you want. You're obviously feeling something; I just wanna know how you're feeling."

Taylor sighs and buries her head into his neck. "It makes me feel funny."

"What does?" Travis asks.

"When you tell me that I did a good job or that I'm a good girl," she answers.

"Is it a good funny or a bad funny?" He questions.

"I think it's good. It just scares me 'cause I've never felt it before." Her voice is a soft mumble.