Treacherous (Taylor x Fem OC)

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A/N: AYOOO thank you for being SO patient, I've been so loaded with work and grad school I haven't had the chance to write but here you are! A bit of a longer chapter, a happy chapter at that ;)

Figured to be nice before the plot I'm about to unravel.

Enjoy :)

Taylor POV

"You've got it?" Wren asks as I attempt to lug my suitcase down the stairs. I stick my tongue between my teeth in narrowed focus as I grunt, lifting it and gripping the handle tightly in my hand, carrying it down the flight.

The weight of it rocks me and Wrenley practically scales six steps at once, grabbing onto the bag and chuckling, "I can take it from here, my love."

"I am capable!" I whine.

"I know you are, darling, just allow me to lend a hand."

When she lifts it with casual ease, I can't help but narrow my eyes dangerously at her. Especially when I see the muscles in her arms flexing as she carries it down the rest of the way, tossing that charming grin over her shoulder at me.

"I hate you and your sexy muscles."

"I'll think about that next time you ask me to send you gym photographs."

I step down to the first floor, grinning toothily up at her and trickling my hands down her cheeks to rest on her shoulders, tilting my head whilst batting my eyelashes like a child, "But I love your workout photos."

"Mmm, then watch your tongue," She whispers, smirking while my heart does little somersaults in my chest.

My gaze flickers to her lips briefly. I slowly lean in and when her lips curl even more, parting just slightly, I know she's meeting me halfway. We kiss for a short time, but just enough for the butterflies to let loose and the reality of our trip settling in.

I brush my tongue along her bottom lip, begging for permission to get just a taste of her before we step out to head to the airport.

She grants it for me and I drag my tongue across hers, circling mine in her mouth, exploring it like an uncharted location. And it's not enough, there's not enough time in the universe for me to kiss Wren.

The second it ends is the second Toby buzzes into the system, letting me know that he's here. I open the app on my phone and let him know to come in with the other security guards reading to whisk us away in the blacked out car with the other one trailing behind for reinforced protection.

Every single time I go on a trip, there's the blacked out Mercedes S-Class, and of course the Cadillac Escalades lining the sidewalk in front of my home. That, and the movers and Tree will be bringing everything to my finished TriBeCa home again.

Wren's not too happy about that, even though we will still be living close to one another, but I can't help but agree that leaving Cornelia Street will be no easy feat.

I grab the cats and put them in both backpacks Wren and I will be wearing, the bubble carriers of course, and Wren pulls her hood up over her beanie-covered head, tossing a wink at me before Toby and other guards shield our exit and transfer into the vehicle.

There are always little crowds of people that have gotten bigger over the years, and now the crowds outside my own home are screaming that they hate me, screaming for me to disappear. I can't tell who they are, I can't tell if they're people who once cheered for me, shared the love for my music with me, or if they've always felt this way.

To me, they're all still those hunters with cell phones, with the cameras on me waiting for the other shoe to drop, but millions have dropped already, what else could they be searching for other than to remind me that they hate my name, that the only way my name will be in headlights now is splashed on the news' front page with devil horns coming out of my head and x's over my eyes.