Tatum Donnelly (a_straychild) wrote in horror_story, @ 2013-03-28 17:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, cycle002, emma, tatum |
Who: Tatum & Emma.
When: Thursday, January 10th. 2am~
Where: Emma's apartment @ Black Gate.
What: Brassballs Donnelly can't fight this feeling anymore.
Warnings: Mild. Language, lady kisses, and some non-con groping.
Over the last week or so, Tatum had experienced very little hesitation with anything. Getting, or taking, what she wanted had become a sort of expectation to her over the last few days. Other people might not have been fans of her new attitude, her new lease on life, but Tatum was a huge fan. They just didn't understand. She wanted the bitches at school to leave her alone? Now they did. She wanted to do something other than waste all day at school? Now she could, at least until February. She wanted out from under her father's thumb, to be out of her dad's house? Well, she sort of half achieved that one.
It wasn't ideal circumstance, considering that she had wanted her own place instead of crashing on Emma's couch like she had been doing, but it had still been almost a solid week now since she had stepped foot into Michael Donnelly's house. The last time that she had tried to sneak back, two days ago, to swipe some extra clothes while she knew he would be out.. the locks had been changed. He still called her phone multiple times a day. He knew she was in town, and it honestly surprised her that he hadn't come hunting her down on foot yet. She could only assume it was work that was slowing him down, but still he was onto her, even if she was avoiding him like the plague. She hadn't even be bothered texting her sister, to see if she could let her in, or help her get some clothes. She still didn't feel much like talking to Teagan either, after the video store incident. She still didn't understand how her sister could be so selfish. She had been bitching to Emma non-stop about how ungrateful Teagan was, about how the McBrayer thing totally was not all Tatum's fault. Teagan had started it initially, after all.
It was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth though, as the old saying went, and Tatum actually did still know somewhat when to cut her losses. When the locks had been changed at her father's house a couple of days ago, she had immediately just turned tail and gone back to Emma's apartment. She could always just wash the clothes she had again.. honestly, she had been trying to do some of that anyway. Laundry, dishes, tidying up. Even cooking a meal or two for them. Living at home, cooking has just been one of her expected duties, and she wasn't half bad at it. She wasn't a totally useless guest and she wasn't entirely broke (yet anyway, since she hadn't been in for a shift at the convenience store in over a week). She tried. She was still angry with her dad, she was angry with the world in general it seemed, and she still missed her camera desperately.. but it was sort of fun to crash at Emma's place. To stay home all day while she went to work at the diner, cleaning up the house and cooking whole she was gone, waiting for her to get home after a long day.. almost like playing house or something. Like playing the role of little housewife.
Just the thought made Tatum's heart flutter. Her? Emma's wife? It was almost a laughable thought if she thought on it too hard, but it didn't kill the fantasy at all. She'd been practically raised to be someone's wife.. she was just fairly certain that her father had someone else in mind. She would be perfect at it. She knew that she could make Emma happy, if she let her. She'd show her.
It was a little quick to be fantasizing about marriage, however, when she still hadn't even so much as laid a single kiss on her best friend. Years of experience in pining did nothing if one was never going to do anything to act on their actual feelings. And Tatum was quite sick of not acting on her feelings. She had discovered over the last week, that things sort of worked out better anyway if she just said what she wanted and did whatever she wanted, and that was basically her plan. How long had she beat around the bush with Emma? She hated anyone who even looked at Emma, let alone hurt the brunette, and Tatum kept all of her thoughts about how beautiful she was all to herself, admired the other girl when she wasn't paying attention, from a safe distance. She bit her tongue to keep all of those facts to herself, for the good of the friendship.
But friendship was hardly good enough now. She didn't know if it was just the intensity of her whole life change, or something else, but her feelings for Emma were getting harder and harder to swallow down and ignore. She didn't want to ignore them anymore. She wanted something more, and more than anything, she wanted her. She had been trying to drop hints, filling their time together with subtle flirtation and even a few off color jokes, sitting closer to her on the couch, even leaning her head on her friend's shoulder when they were drunk enough and she felt even bolder as a result.. but she didn't think Emma was taking her seriously. How could she flirt so easily with the girl st the antique store, but with her own best friend whom she felt that she knew better than anyone, she was clueless. She had even ditched the stutter, she had beaten a lifelong affliction and bought a bag of confidence in exchange, and still it did seemingly nothing to make her more attractive to Emma. How did she get her point across? She'd have to, eventually, be blunt.
She didn't believe half of what people around town said, about Emma sleeping with half of Crows Landing.. but she did know her very best friend was no virgin. Unlike Tatum, much to her own dismay. She wanted to lose it by her birthday, at least. She wasn't a kid anymore. But why couldn't Emma want her? Why couldn't she look at her and see how badly Tatum needed her? She wanted Emma to look at her the way she must have looked at other people that she deemed worthy enough to sleep with Tatum had fantasized about what she imagined 'the look' to be many times, maybe a cheeky half smile, a come hither grin, a tease, a challenge.. she wondered what the brunette might look like with her head thrown back in ecstasy, hair spread over her pillow, pale throat exposed.. but she didn't want to fantasize. She wanted to see it firsthand.
It was getting harder and harder to deny seemingly every day, but especially every night. Every night when, once Emma retreated to her room for the night, Tatum would be left alone on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and just.. thinking. Often, thinking too much. And rarely ever was she able to keep her wandering fingers from coasting across her own stomach, trailing down, slipping easily under the waistband of the one pair of pajama shorts that she had borrowed from Emma, finding their way. It was always a quiet task (and it was one of the only times she was ever quiet lately), years of practice had ingrained her brain with the importance of being quiet even when she reached her peak, but it was necessary. She couldn't help herself. If she couldn't have Emma, she had to do something. Her constant presence sure wasn't helping the redhead's sexual frustration any. Hell, she was masturbating even more now that she was out of Michael's house, if anything. Crashing on the couch of a gorgeous girl that she wanted so badly and yet couldn't touch.. it definitely was not doing her any favors, mentally or sexually.
Tatum might have been on her way to feeling totally unacquainted with the the feelings of hesitation and worry, two feelings that had made up most of her life before, but they were making a brief comeback as the redhead stood outside of Emma's closed bedroom door on Thursday night. It late, and it was quiet, she wasn't even sure Emma was even still awake in there. Tatum stood straight, stiff as a board staring at the door, totally still in the darkness of the apartment, like a cat waiting to pounce.. but looking a lot more like herself in that moment. Looking almost more like a kitten who couldn't quite actually decide with the opportune moment to pounce was, rather than looking or acting like the spitting alley cat personality that had been roaming the streets in her skin since Christmas. Almost like Tatum, old Tatum or real Tatum, was just trying to peek through. Telling her gently that maybe she should just turn around, go back to the couch, hide under the blankets and get crazy ideas like spontaneous seduction out of her head entirely. She didn't even know what she was doing. It wouldn't work.
But maybe it would. What was the problem? She wasn't like, deformed or particularly ugly or anything. Even the unattractive stammer was gone. She hadn't said anything dorky or talked about video games all week. She was suave. Why shouldn't Emma want to have sex with her? She couldn't hold back anymore. She'd just wing it.
She had her blanket from the couch wrapped around her shoulders, and although she had been half tempted to wear that and little else, she wasn't entirely insane. That was too ballsy, even for her. Under the blanket instead, she still had on the pajama bottoms and tee that Emma had loaned her. They didn't even seem to hang off her in the same way they used to when she normally borrowed clothes from other people. She looked as if she was maybe finally filling out, just a tiny bit. Hardly noticable, if one didn't see her every day. But it made her feel less self-conscious, nevertheless. One hand seeking out from under the blanket, Tatum only knocked once before turning the knob and popping her head in. "Hey, you up?" she asked, in a mock whisper. "It's fucking freezing out there, can I bunk with you?"
It wasn't as if they'd never shared a bed before. It was a totally innocent request. Yes, she was definitely suave.