Taylor Swift Drunk Novels & Stories

What was he supposed to say if Lillian asked about it? He usually stayed the farthest away from trouble, especially troubles between men and women. Pondering for a while, he tried to talk to Tiffany, “Tiffany, are you really drunk?” Tiffany waved her hand. “I’m not drunk, I’m very much sober! Are you sending me home? About what happened tonight… I’m sorry… I apologize on behalf of Ethan!” Jackson was quiet. Other than slurring her words when she spoke, Tiffany’s mind was still working as usual. She was only a sluggish mess and could not walk properly. Was this unconscious?

Stevie’s POV There’s something about an open bar and a wedding dress code that just makes people lose their damn minds, and honestly? I’m here for it. After my speech, I’ve earned the right to let loose, and by let loose, I mean dance like a maniac and drink just enough to get tipsy, not trashed. There’s a fine line, and I’m a master at toeing it. Usually. “Taylor, what the hell are you doing with your arms?” I shout over the music, doubling over with laughter as he tries—tries—to follow Fabiana’s lead.

I pressed my way in between people's conversations, apologizing as I went. "Ohemgee! Luke! Yhew made it!" Tiffany's slurred words practically hit me in the face. She came rushing over to me, throwing her arms around my neck in a sloppy hug. She pulled back, giggling at me, and the smell of strong alcohol drifted up from her mouth. "I was beginning to think you were never going to show!" She said pouting slightly. Tiffany's dark eyes are drooped and shining with intoxication, and one of the straps of her small dress is sliding off of her shoulder. Everything about her is smooth and beautiful, but at this moment seems hastily thrown together. Something about the look in her eyes tells me she h

She said, “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that. Let’s see who really becomes more successful; a guy who uses connections to get to the top or a man like Taylor, who actually uses his talent.” She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Luke fuming. *** Since it was Friday, Taylor’s team decided to have dinner at Titan’s Lounge after practice. They had food and drinks, and while Charlie wasn’t good at handling alcohol, she accepted a beer from Taylor to be a good sport. “Are you sure you drink?” Taylor asked. “Yeah, yeah. I drink a little,” Charlie said, smiling in her seat. “One or two is enough.” Sadly, after two bottles, Charlie was already feeling drunk. Her face was red, and she started

Only a moment ago, I had the woman of my dreams pressed up against me, her body hot for me. I felt another stirring in my pants. I gulped down the rest of my drink. The drive here had cleared my head, and the loud music too. I was about to head out, more than ready to call it a night, when Taylor returned, slipping through the crowd like she hadn’t just left to prove some kind of point. She held two fresh drinks, one of which she handed to me with a wry smile. “Thought you could use a refill,” she said, her voice smooth and easy, like a friend doing me a favor.

“He always took taxis home or called his driver whenever he drank too much. I’m sure a lot of his fans will agree with me. Someone really did try to kill him.” Hearing them talk about Daniel and the condition he was in, Taylor shakily picked up the bottle of water in front of her, turned the cap to open it before proceeding to pour it into the glass beside it. Then she picked up the glass with the same shaky hand and lifted to her lips. Her eyes darted around the place as she tried to stabilize her hand all to no avail. At the end of the day, she spilled more water on herself than she gulped down.

I take a small sip, unsure of what I am letting myself in for. "That. Is. Amazing." The cocktail slides down my throat with ease, and I slowly start to relax. Taylor opens a bottle of beer for himself and starts pulling packages out of the fridge. "I hope you are hungry. Actually, have you even eaten at all today?" Taylor suddenly stops and fixes me with a stare. A flush creeps up my face as I realise Taylor probably already knows the answer to his question. "Um, no. I just really wasn't hungry. Too many nerves," I add hurriedly, trying to justify myself.

Her voice rang out loud and merry, echoing in the warm night. Taylor, feeling a tad disoriented from the alcohol, squinted in mock disbelief, his speech slurring slightly. "Wait, wait, wait, whoa, whoa, am I dreaming or hallucinating because I'm drunk?" His words tumbled out in a drunken symphony. Castor, always quick to jest, couldn't resist giving Taylor a playful smack on the back of his head. "You dumb, people don't hallucinate when they're drunk!" Catalina joined in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe he's not people but an animal, I guess."

She blamed the bottle of tequila that they'd added to their glasses. "Maya!" Her mother called, swaying her hips lightly, "Are you sure you don't want to join us!?" She giggled drunkenly, the microphone in her hold almost slipping. Esther nodded energetically, her short hair bouncing with the motion, "Y-you should join us, I think that's a great idea!" She mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath. Maya watched them with a brow arched to her forehead. She wished she could record this moment and show it to them. Her overly serious mother and the CEO of a powerful conglomerate embarrassingly sang to all of Taylor Swift's albums. Maya almost shuddered,

Plus, she knew all the songs playing tonight, so singing along while dancing made her happy and carefree. Taylor had too many hits; almost every song played was a chorus sing-along. Holding a glass filled with a red cocktail, Wendy sang along: "Oh my God, look at that face. You look like my next mistake." The song continued, but Wendy suddenly stopped. Asher's face had flashed through her mind! What in the world? She tilted her head back and downed the cocktail in one go. She wasn't old enough to buy alcohol herself. This drink had been offered to her by a girl who accidentally bumped into her while dancing. If it had been a guy offering, Wendy would have refused.