the concert was at an all time high when taylor got on his knees, one hand on his guitar and the other holding the microphone as he pressed it against his crotch, writhing against it, the smell of weed and the screams of the crowds egging him on to do more.

“how 'bout we make a little noise?!” taylor moaned, the mic making the sound a thousand times louder than it truly was. he loved the adrenaline he got from performing.

their shows weren't the most… righteous. you, taylors bodyguard, learned that fact quicker than it could’ve been taught.

as the audience spurred taylor on and on, he occasionally glaced down to you, standing right next to the stage, observing the screaming fans incase they tried something.

he adored that you didn’t care about what he did—you were only there to keep him and his band safe.

as taylors solo was finished he got back up on his feet, his back now to the crowd as he glanced down to you, flashing a sly wink. that was his thing when it came to you. flirting. no matter how many times you ignored it, never even acknowledging his antics, he would still try. there was something about the way you were cool and calm about him and his antics unlike the rest that drew him to you.

as taylor waited for the next song to start playing, he grinned and beckoned you up onto stage with his pointer finger. despite your protest saying that you needed to keep watch, he always got what he wanted, and right now that was for you to come up on stage with him. and, plus, he had seen the ways some of the girls looked at you at his performances.. and he was going to show you off—to let everyone know that you were off limits, specifically.

he pulled up a chair in the middle of the stage and sat you down on it, grinning down at you as he started to sing while straddling your lap, his guitar on his back, his hips starting to move against yours with the beat of the song.