Jaylor / Taylor Swift One shots

Deadly Love story

Just a TAD BIT of dramatics. Hehe Good luck 😏

Gigi and Taylor are both Bi in this

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The sunset was beautiful. Red as blood and just as violent.

Strains of vermillion and iris light smeared across the black Corvette's hood, swirling across the paint like an oil slick. One of the headlamps was shattered and the fender was dented, not to mention the bullet holes peppering the rear, but it was still the most beautiful car Taylor had ever sat in. And next to her, holding her hand on the gear shift, was the most beautiful woman she had ever sat beside.

"Gigi" Taylor murmured, and those night sky eyes were upon her in an instant. "Where's that flask of yours when a girl really needs it?" She should've laughed as she said it, but she didn't.

Gigi smiled though, that queer half-smirk where one side of her mouth tilted up in a way that made you want more than anything to kiss it and pulled the dull, nicked black vessel from her breast pocket. She took her own swig before handing it to Taylor, and that was probably for the best; she wouldn't have been able to get it open with her slick hands. The liquor burned going down, and she wondered if Hell would feel like whiskey.

"What a mess I've made, beautiful," Taylor whispered, and there was a rasp in her voice that hadn't been there when they'd met.

"No." Gigi shook her head, russet curls glowing like gold in the fading light. "No, we soiled things together. So I tell you what, baby" she said, taking the flask from Taylor's hands. "We're gonna watch this wonderful sunset together until the stars come out, and then we'll fix things right on up. How's that sound?"

There was no way to fix what she'd done, of course, just like there was no way to get the blood out of the 'gig's leather seats.

"Like music to my ears," Taylor said, and she turned up the radio.

Summer Lovin'. It was the song that had been playing when they'd met. Could it have only been a few weeks ago? When Joe first brought in the new car.

He'd gotten the Corvette, shiny and brand spankin' new, with his first paycheck after he booked a role. The black paint glowed in any light that touched it, and the wheels seemed to whisper to her of freedom. From the moment she'd first laid eyes on it, she knew it was the only thing she would ever love about her husband.

God, the things she'd do to drive that car, Taylor thought as she watched him pull out of their driveway and amble down the street,  with the majestic creature. It would never happen, though. She wasn't sure Joe was aware she knew how to drive, but even if he was, he'd die before he let anyone in the driver's seat of his baby.

Joe, when he returned home, that day all those weeks ago he was disappointed to see library books on the counter instead of, she assumed, handwritten recipes that smelled of newfound friendship and the perfume of a bosom buddy, but that was fine. She was too lost in her own head to care all that much for his unmet expectations, the leftovers she'd heated up for dinner, or the warning he gave her before bed that everything had better be perfect for his dinner tomorrow, which of course it was.

It wasn't until the day after that Taylor saw Gigi again when she went out to look at the beautiful car.

"Hey," Gigi said, her tone sober, and Taylor met her eyes. "Do you wanna get out of here?"

And that was how it began. Innocently enough at first; just conversations in Gigi's truck about life and literature and Joe and how much Taylor hated him.

"Taylor," he called from the Corvette one morning, "be sure to make something especially scrumptious for dinner tonight. The boys and I are having a few drinks after work and I'd hate to come home to a subpar supper like I usually do."

Dinner, much like every other night for the past three weeks, was not scrumptious. Unlike the past three weeks, however, Joe was drunk when he ate it.

"The hell is this, Taylor?" His voice was low, and though she'd never liked her husband, it was the first time Tay'd ever thought to be afraid of him.

"Dinner," she replied tightly. "Mashed potatoes and fried chicken. Is there a problem?"

"Only that we've been eating these leftovers for days now and I specifically asked you for a damn good meal tonight."

She knew as she did it that she would regret it, but Taylor picked up his plate and took it into the kitchen. "Fine then. Go to bed and dream of a better dinner because I'm not making you one." And then, right in front of his face, she dumped the food in the garbage.

"Oh, like hell you aren't, bitch," Joe growled as he stood, knocking his chair to the floor.

Jacy's heart felt like it might beat through her throat, but she carried the dish to the sink and began to wash it with the utensils and knives. "You're drunk, Joe. Go to bed."

He did not go to bed.

Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Taylor's curls and brought her face down hard on the edge of the counter.

Too shocked even to scream, her breaths came in whimpers as she turned to face him, only to see red as he backhanded her hard onto the tile floor. He bent down to hit her again and she raised her hand against him, to protect herself. Again and again, she flailed her arm, hoping to keep him at bay, but--

Taylor opened her eyes to see the knife she'd been washing in her fist, a very still man slumped against the kitchen cabinets, and blood all over everything. Her husband, the floor, her dress.

Especially her dress.

That was when she screamed, long and loud.

She took care not to touch him, not wanting to feel the chill of his skin against her own, as she made her way to the coat rack, to his stiff blue coat, to the keys she'd always wanted to feel in the ignition.,She supposed there was nothing left to lose.

The Corvette felt just as good beneath her bloodied hands as she'd always expected it would, and the roar of the wind and the engine was almost enough to make her forget what she'd just done.

She had the vague realization she was doubling the speed limit, but she didn't care; there was one person she needed to find, and she knew just where that person would be.

Rubber screeched as she braked in front of the library, and a redhead in a leather jacket looked up with questions written on her face.

"Get in, beautiful," was all Taylor said, but it was all she needed to.

And now they were here.

Gigi reached over and curled a bloodstained blonde ringlet around her finger, smiling sadly, and Taylor let herself enjoy it.

Suddenly, the light on her face wasn't just red and orange, but blue as well, accompanied by sirens in the distance.

"It seems we're out of time," and Taylor's voice broke as she said it.

"Nonsense," Gigi scoffed. "We're just beginning."

The sirens, in their nearness, grew louder, so Gigi turned the radio song up to match as she nodded forward. Taylor narrowed her eyes; she couldn't be serious. But she was, and she said as much.

The police pulled up just a moment too late.

As the violins soared, the black Corvette rocketed off the cliff, soaring to the waters below. Time dilated as Grease sang of Summer Lovin, and as the sun sank below the waves, so did a bloody woman and her lover.

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😂😂 How'd it go guys? 

Thanks @oncers_reputation for the murder curse.

BTW I'll probably post the first chapter of the other story today/tomorrow it has to do with Taylor hiding a big secret from the world. 💗💗💗