Jaylor / Taylor Swift One shots

Kitchen Movie *smut*

Here's a request this one is for Hannah

**Smut warning😏**

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Everything is covered in flour and it's not Taylor's fault, that much she'd like to be made clear from the beginning.

Joe has a smudge of purple high on one cheekbone where he's tried to brush away a tickling strand of hair, a hand-shape outlined in flour on his ass and a murderous scowl on his face as if he's trying to intimidate the cake on the counter into submission.

The cake is a standard round shape with a broken-off wedge stuck back on by way of large amounts of purple frosting and it is also not impressed in the slightest.

"It certainly looks home-made," Taylor says, biting back a grin as she hops up onto the counter next to the unhappy baker.

"It looks like shit," Joe grumbles, palette knife raised halfway as if he's unsure whether he maybe wants to start stabbing the offending cake.

"He's gonna love it," Taylor insists, pulling Joe closer by the apron strings to stand between her knees. She kisses his pout. "Why are you wearing this again?"

"Because it would be unsanitary not to," he replies, rolling his eyes but abandoning the palette in favour of putting his arms around her.

Sshe nibbed frosting from his chin. It tastes like sugar and blueberries.

Joe sighs contently and angles his jaw to give her better access. "I started right after I got up, thought I could get showered and dressed while it was in the oven. But then everything took much longer than expected, so I started cleaning up the kitchen. By the time I was done, the timer went off so I went on to decorate..." he trails off, defeated.

Taylor is not an expert in baking, but even she can tell that the cake is structurally unsound, probably not all the way done when Joe tipped it out of the tin. Pouring on frosting didn't hide his crime, on the contrary, it made the entire thing appear even more unwieldy.

"Patrick is going to love it," she repeats honestly, punctuating every word with a small kiss until Joe catches her lips and kisses her properly.

He's been trying his own culinary experiment as well, sweet sugar and tart berries bursting across her tongue as he shares the taste.

A faint dusting of flour coats his skin, palpable when her hands go exploring.

"How long 'til Pat gets back?" Taylor whispers when Joe moves closer, his lips trailing along her jaw until he's nipping at the ticklish spot underneath her ear.

"At least an hour, he texted me from the gym," he says, finding the edge of Taylor's underwear beneath Joe's too large bullseye t-shirt. "You set the table and wrapped the new quiver?"

"I did," she says, shifting in wordless invitation. Her heart skips a beat when he immediately catches on, stepping away only long enough to slip the scrap of fabric down her legs.

"Cake needs to... rest or whatever," he says dismissively, reaching for the apron strings at his neck.
"No, leave that on," she smirks, pulling him in again with her heel. Her kiss is distracting enough that he doesn't quite notice the way her hand slips into the frilly-edged front pocket until she's already gripping him through the fabric.

"Fu-uck..." the curse becomes a two-syllable breath of surprise.

"Yes, please," she whispers back before biting his lip.

---

Taylor opened her eyes, feeling warm sunlight shine on her face. She'd just woken up from the best dream, and right before the part she wanted most. She smiled as she lay there, listening to her boyfriend breathe in and out. Sort of wishing he was awake to finish the dream in real life. Even when he was sleeping, she knew, he looked so nice and peaceful. She decided she wanted to watch him, so she carefully turned onto her other side, mindful of her long, chocolate hair. His arm was splayed out and he rested her head on it as she watched and listened to the calming tide of his breathing. Taylor smiled widely as she recalled last night.