Tate Langdon X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

I support you in the tate interest bc I'm right there with you

Has he done crimes? Ya sure but look at him he's cute!

And I'm intrigued with your modern day fic idea if you wanna share 👀

a/n i love you for indulging me <3

also i will be the first to admit that i don't think i ever fully got what AHS apocolypse did to murder house?? like the time travel and new timeline? ig there's no more murder house??

idk i didn't love it so i'm leaving it out partially out of preference and partially out of being a little confused lol,, and i honestly don't want to get into all of that!!

and there's time in between the end of AHS murder house and AHS apocalypse so you can also imagine this is somewhere in there, where season 1 trauma is less fresh to all the characters but not season 8...if that makes sense??

anyways this made me so excited i decided to use this as my homework study break instead of the fic i was working on earlier

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"And maggots crawl up their nose and eat their brains."

And just like that, I no longer have the luxury of letting whatever Kayla's into these days be just background noise. "Wait a minute..." She looks up from the large book laying in front of her, raising an eyebrow like she had been talking about something any seven-year-old girl could be into. Like brain eating maggots are no different than Barbies or baby dolls. "Maggots?"

"Mhm," she nods, sitting up a little straighter, "It's in my new book, I checked it out at the library."

Kayla lifts one end, giving me a way to check out the cover. 500 Weird Ways to Go. Ugh. Can't blame her, I blame the person raising her. I look away from the dining room table and glare at my mom who's searching through the boxes that have lived on the kitchen counter since we first walked in about a week ago.

"What?" My mom doesn't even have to look up to sense my disappointment. "It's educational, and you were into some weird stuff, too when you were seven." She pushes aside the box she's looking through in favor of the one next to it. "...Used to tell me how much bacteria a single roach could carry."

I set down my pencil. "Doesn't matter--Kayla's been having nightmares." The trig homework was frustrating before and I can't tell if this is worse. "It's not appropriate." She walks away from the boxes, giving me a chance to see the low cut, silky tank she's wearing. "And neither is that top if that's what you're wearing for the PTA meeting."

"Lighten up, sweetheart." I don't. She sighs, nails tapping against the counter. "Y'know you used to be fun."

"Yeah, well," I stand, picking up my school supplies, awkwardly forcing them all into my arms, "That was before some crazy lady forced me to move halfway across the country to live in some house that we shouldn't even be able to afford."

Her glossy lips fall apart in mock surprise, "I'm not crazy." She shakes her head once, "And I've told you...the financial stuff just worked, okay...so just relax and be a kid for once. Worry about decorating your room, or-or making friends, or throwing a rager and making me hate you."

I am so not in the mood for the you worry too much speech. "Lot of ways for me to make you hate me." Before she can respond, I reach over and steal the mug of coffee she had been drinking from. "Just saying."

I walk out of the kitchen, mug and school supplies all awkwardly balancing in my arms until I'm in what's supposed to be my room.

There's nothing wrong with the space. Actually, in another situation, I'm sure I could have really loved this space. The room has dark blue walls and wood arches that make it feel unique. It also came pre-furnished and everything feels like it fits. But none of it feels mine.

Maybe it's just the lack of unpacking...the boxes of posters and personal items pouring over the dresser and onto the floor...the suit case I'm still living out of. Or maybe the good qualities of the room are the issue. It's put together so perfectly I feel like I'm what's wrong with it. Like I'm intruding--a guest in someone else's room...someone else's house...someone else's life.

Sometimes when I can't sleep I imagine what it might've been. Some nights it even slips into my dreams. The story rarely stays the same...sometimes it's a teenage girl who wanted to be here even less than I do...other times I picture a little kid who grew up here...and sometimes I even think of this as some boy's room that relies on rock music and doesn't get along with his mom.

None of that matters, I guess. It's my room, obviously, and imagining who might have lived here before won't help me with my homework. I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my temple before turning my attention back to the real villain. Trigonometry.

I breeze through most of the questions as much as anyone can breeze through trigo until I'm on the last one. I'm stuck. I work on it again and again and it keeps being wrong.

I sigh, grabbing a pillow and using it to muffle my groan of frustration. How many times can I do what I'm supposed to do and still get it wrong? I pick up my eraser, knowing what I should do. I should just start over. Instead of dragging it across the page I throw it across the room.

Instead of smacking into the door and falling to the ground, the door pushes back. I sit up quicker than I thought possible.

"Warm welcome." The sarcasm comes from the stranger lingering way too comfortably in my doorway. His dark eyes scan the room before landing on me. He takes in my appearance openly, which I'm not used to, so I instinctually do the same. He seems like he's average height with blonde hair that's long enough to shag slightly and he's wearing an oversized sweater. "Cool room, by the way."

"Uh..." He's definitely lying, because all I've fully unpacked are a couple of books, a few pictures, my record player, and a single movie poster. "Thanks."

I'm not stupid. I know home intruders can be anyone, even cute boys that look like they're around your age and act casual enough to gaslight you into feeling like you're the weird one for not inviting them in. But if that's the goal, he's really good at it. I feel awkward and like I should be doing something to compensate.

"Sorry about the eraser." The words feel flat, almost shy. "That wasn't--wasn't about you--" Like I wouldn't have been well within my rights to throw something at someone who may or may not be breaking into my house. "That was...trig."

He nods once and I can't tell if it feels indifferent. I'm not sure why it matters. The stranger steps further into my room, his attention briefly focusing on the framed photo of a younger me and one of my best friends from back home. He's closer than a stranger should be now, close enough to lean over and look at my homework, which he does.

"Uh..." I sit up even straighter, a part of me wanting to grab my notebook and shield it even though that's irrational. There isn't anything he can get from it. "Who are you?"

The stranger holds my stare for a beat before answering, "I'm Tate." I nod, even though that does nothing for me. "I live around here."

Okay--that makes a lot of sense. I wouldn't be surprised if my mom ran into him on her way out and waved him down and told him to just let himself in and find her oldest daughter. Maybe this is an ambush attempt at getting me to make friends.

"Oh," I mumble like that explains everything, "Did my mom stop you?" The assumption feels like it could make me seem weird. I don't know why I feel like I'm the one that needs to come off as casual when he's the one that has less of a right to be here. "She invites people in sometimes, especially when she's new to a place." I scratch my knee to have something to physically do. "She never thinks anyone could be a murderer."

Oh my god?! Did I just accuse the only attractive guy I've met here of being a murderer? "Not that I think you're a murderer." I fight the urge to physically cringe. "--I um--I've been doing math for way longer than physically tolerable so my head's kinda mush right now."

"Explains why you divided wrong." Before I can ask what he's talking about, Tate places his finger against the bottom of the page. I look at what he's pointing at, some throwaway basic math...that I messed up. That's why it wasn't working.

"Oh?" I pick up my pencil and cross out my mistake so that I remember where to start over. "You totally saved my life." I rewrite the numbers so that I can actually solve the problem. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

Only halfway done with my math problem, I look up. He didn't ask for my name, which doesn't matter. Maybe he feels less comfortable in a stranger's room than he seems or maybe I've weirded him out and he has no intentions of speaking to me again. Not knowing is making my skin feel like it's crawling. It doesn't make sense for me to care.

I want him to like me. The realization burrows itself deep into my chest. It's an uncomfortable feeling, making it hard to just sit there and stare.

I've never considered myself someone that needs validation from guys, but this doesn't feel quite like that. School hasn't seemed too promising and every day I talk to my friends from home or I see their posts online and realize that they still have everything I did. I'm not mad about it or surprised--the world doesn't and shouldn't stop and start with me--but it hurts to suddenly have no one. And even though I know nothing about him, Tate's the first remotely cool seeming person I've met.

He waits a beat, eyes focused on a point that feels just past my head. I don't know why, but something about the silence feels pivotal. Tate then dips his chin downwards, a nod of acknowledgement. "Cool."

Tate takes a partial step forward, body angling itself towards the nightstand that I've been using for my record player. "This work?"

"Yeah," I turn myself so that I can watch him, "I know everything's online, but I like having physical copies." My nails press into my knee.

Tate reaches forward to mess with the volume dial. "What kind of music do you have?"

"A little of everything," I force my hand to relax, "But most of my vinyls are still being shipped."

His eyes briefly flit in my direction, "Got anything worth listening to?"

"Uh..." Is he implying that he's staying? Do I want him to? I'm lonely and kind of desperate for friends, but I should probably at least try to be a little suspicious. "We can listen to whatever you want on my..." I move a pillow and straighten my comforter in search of my, "Phone."

After a second of searching, I find it under my textbook.

"Anything?"

I unlock my phone, "Yeah, your pick, I owe you for the math thing."

Tate shrugs, "I just wanted to make sure you'd stop at the eraser, y'know, as a friend."

He gestures towards the door in a way that almost feels teasing. I can barely register the fact that he's kind of making fun of me because my mind's stuck on the last word. "We're friends?"

"You wanna be?"

The bluntness of the question surprises me more than it should. He's yet to feel particularly invested in social norms. "...Yeah." I scratch at the back of my wrist awkwardly. "That'd--that'd be cool."

Tate's head turns his head away for a second. He takes a step forward before sitting at the edge of my bed. The proximity nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I redirect my nervous energy into grabbing my homework and moving it to the other side of the bed. "You got any Kurt Cobain on there?"

----

a/n i accidentally developed the background way too much for something idek if i'm going to touch on again but i spent all day doing hw and deserved to give into a harmless impulse

might have to make a part 2/mini series bc what did i do all that for 😭 i lowkey wanted to add violet and reader friendship to add some angst so maybe that? idk

⋆｡°✩ yesimwriting's masterlist⋆｡°✩

Below the cut is a full list of all my work :) (updated 10-10-23)

*pls limit interactions if you’re a pro ED/ana acc :)*

SCREAM 1996

Final Girl 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 

Chapter 10

To be continued.

Final Girl fic-verse:

First Impressions 

Sick Day

———————

Final Girl fic-verse blurbs:

Drunk Y/N 

Stu saying the L word

Billy saying the L word

Little Rituals  

Time of Need

Talking about Y/N

Stu’s thoughts about Y/N and POV

Gingerbread

Billy Loomis x S/O with Panic attacks 

Stu waiting for Y/N and Casual Intimacy

 Billy and Stu with S/O who cries a lot 

Billy and Stu Scaring Guys Away

People noticing their friendship 

Driving with Stu 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SCREAM VI 

Ethan Landry 

One of Them

Ask about Ethan 

Noticing they like Y/N

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LAST OF US 

Joel Miller

First Rule

What Follows

Y/N gets hit on - Protective Joel 

Purpose 

Pulling Away

Pulling Away similar story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STAR WARS 

Anakin 

More Than This 

Promise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AMERICAN HORROR STORY 

Tate Langdon 

Modern day fic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DC TITANS 

Jason Todd

Resurgence 

Slow Nights

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ELVIS THE MOVIE

Business Practical

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STRANGER THINGS 

Steve Harrington

Movie Club

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Times Have Changed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DAREDEVIL

48 Hours

Chapter 1

A Red Widow

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SPIDER-MAN 

This Time it’s Different 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

TASM Peter 

Domestic Assertiveness 

Hobbie Brown 

Ask about Hobbie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU

Bloodroot in the Suburbs 

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Babysitter 

Chapter 2: Kill Habits, Not people 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SIX OF CROWS SERIES:

Searing Starlight

Searing Starlight Chapter 1

Searing Starlight Chapter 2

Searing Starlight Chapter 3

To be continued.

—————-

Kaz Brekker:

Blurb series: The Promise of Rain (i define a blurb series' as a series with shorter chapters where each chapter correlates but can technically be read as a stand alone)

The Promise of Rain (blurb 1).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 2).

The Promise of Rain (blurb 3)

To be continued.

—————

Falling Angels:

Falling Angels Chapter 1

Falling Angels Chapter 2

To be continued.

———

Anastasia (Prologue) 

Bookworm reader 

A Knife in the Back

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE:

The Darkling:

Solace (part 1)

Solace (part 2).

———————

To Be Alone (smut).

Solutions

All the Good Dreams (might be getting a part 2)

—————

The Needs of Pain (part 1)_

The Needs of Pain (part 2, smut).

—————-

Corridor Moments

darkling x shy! reader HC

Comforting the darkling HC

Playing Vices

Darkling x anxious! Reader

Kirigan x Soft Girls/Similar personality 

Crossing Lines 

Darkling x Pregnant! Reader 

Possessive/Breeding 

Nikolai Lantsov:

Tranquility.

Handmaid reader x nikolai. childhood best friends to 

lovers fic

Enemies to lovers Nikolai HC (i'm thinking of making a series based on this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SHADOW AND BONE X SIX OF CROWS:

The Problem With Light Chapter One

To be continued.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RED QUEEN:

Maven Calore:

Dying Starlight

Hell Hole. - Tate Langdon

Pairing: AHS Tate Langdon x GN!Reader

Summary: Secrets can’t possibly stay hidden in a home that was built on the betrayal of deceit and ruin. Tate had figured that out by now.

ALTERNATIVELY:

Violet tells you about what Tate did, and you can’t look at him the same again after.

Warnings: if you could handle watching AHS, you can handle this i thinks. Angst, no comfort, kind of a cliffhanger ending. A part 2 may be in order if requested lol. This is very not proof read pls forgive it i just wanted to write s o me th in g.

He should’ve known. Really, very truly should’ve known that he wouldn’t have been able to move on so easily. That he wouldn’t have been able to escape the wrongdoings of his past, the horrors of the sins he committed against the innocent. It was only right he was standing where he was right now, mind racing miles upon miles a second as he tried to grasp the reality painfully painted in front of him.

You, who was standing in front of him, tear stained cheeks that were burning red like rubies. Eyes puffy and undeniably sore, strained and stinging as you wiped away the salty manifestations of your grief. It broke him to see his angel so distressed, his saviour in such a state of loss and hurt. He thought he’d been damned the day Violet told him to leave for good, damned to pay for his evil ways; cooped up in the basement with the other poor souls crying for what they had lost.

But then you arrived.

Many families had come and gone before then- ones that were broken, strained and whole. Mothers, fathers, daughters and sons, infants and pets had walked the halls of the house, only to be shortly chased away not long after. Nothing ever was permanent, and nothing ever seemed permanent for Tate, not until you came along. Ben and Vivienne were done chasing homeowners out, they no longer wanted to dedicate their deaths to preventing others from a similar fate. They’d grown tired, like everybody else had. This had only wrongfully convinced Tate further that your arrival was meant to be.

Tate almost wanted to laugh at how stupid he’d been. This light, this saviour, this god, this cruel demonstration of fate, you, were just the world’s way of tragically repeating history all over again. Less in terms of casualties, but in terms of heartbreak? Tate was almost sure he was about to drop dead all over again, if it wasn’t for the sliver of desire he held deep in his heart. What if you did forgive him? Could you be able to look past what he’d done, accept it and love him for all of what he was? Unlikely.

“Violet told me,” you choked, hair a mess and clothes crumpled from the strength of your fists clutching onto them for dear life, “she told me everything, Tate, everything.”

He swallowed the fear building in his throat, eyes nervously darting around the room. He was desperate to approach you, to get closer and cocoon you in his arms and act like this wasn’t happening right now. He shouldn’t have ever come out of the basement, he thought bitterly.

“Come on,” he begged, panting even though he didn’t have functioning lungs to fill. His chest pounding even though he didn’t have a heart capable of beating. “Please, what I did wasn’t me. Believe me, you gotta.”

“Believe you? I saw your fucking picture on the articles, Tate. You fucking killed those students in cold blood,” you hissed, running a shaking hand through your hair. Your temper was rising, didn’t he have shame? Was he even sorry?

“But it wasn’t me!”

“How was it not you? You were the one with the gun! You were the one that pulled the trigger! You were the one who assaulted and killed Violet’s mother! The one responsible for two other people who are doomed here!”

“No, no not like that. I mean-“ he sobbed, “please, i know i did it. All of it. But it wasn’t me. I’m so sorry.”

You scoffed. Tate visibly winced, eyes building up with tears as he shook violently. You couldn’t help but feel disgusted, stomach turning and nose scrunching as you took in his state. How could he have the audacity to be in such despair when he’d ended and ruined lives?

Somehow, you could still see the Tate you knew in him. The Tate who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who would do anything to see you giddy and smiling, who was yours. But knowing the reality, also meant you knew you had to toss that bullshit behind you. You couldn’t feel this way towards him anymore. Your stomach turned just thinking of the monster he was under all the lies he meticulously fed you. He wasn’t innocent and he knew that this whole time.

“I’m going,” you said hastily, hands flying up in defeat as you stormed out of your bedroom. The bedroom you now realised previously belonged to the now dead school shooter and also your recent ex, Tate Langdon. “Don’t fucking show yourself when I come back.”

You didn’t entirely understand everything, I mean, how could you? You’d gone from believing you had a perfect goofy, adorably-odd boyfriend, to finding out he was dead with a criminal record and multiple bodies under his belt. At first you didn’t fully accept Violet’s babbling as she rambled off about all the suffering he’d caused, until she snatched your phone and pulled up what had confirmed your fears. The truth was right in front of your eyes, and there was no option for you to avoid it for it was blinding- and, what was more devastating, a measly google search away this whole time.

You were a fool.

“No! Please, you can’t!” he cried, hands coming up to yank at his blonde strands, his demeanour visibly closing in on himself. His body language screamed frightened, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care.

You ignored his protests, although your tears continued to stream as you listened halfheartedly to his pleas. It wasn’t your place to forgive, and you’d certainly never be able to forget.

And with those last thoughts, you stepped out of your bedroom door and flew down the stairs. Your parents were both at work, so nobody was home to question why you were so frantic to leave the house. You’d have no choice but to be home later, but everything in the moment seemed to be screaming at you to leave.

“You’re all I have! Stay! Please!” he bounded down the stairs after you, pitiful screams narrowly escaping his aching throat. “You promised me! You fucking promised me! You can’t leave!”

Your breath hitched in your throat, door swinging shut as you practically ran out of the suffocating walls of your house. Could it even be considered your home now? Did technicalities even matter when nothing that you’d just experienced was even remotely logical?

You chuckled miserably, kicking the stone littered pavement as you tracked further from the hell hole you’d just stepped out of and closer to some peace and quiet. You’d worry about the rest when you got back.

Love, Love, Love | AHS Tate Langdon x Reader

Pairing: AHS Tate Langdon x Reader

Summary: You died. A pity. You were stuck in a house filled from the basement to the attic of people past who'd met their untimely fates. A pity. Your boyfriend, the love of your short life, stopped talking to you; spending his time hanging out with the bane of your existence. Violet. A pity.

Warnings: you die, terrible communication skills, angst to fluff, smut smut smut, reader tries to be in charge- tate nips that in the bud quickly though, restraint, oral (fem receiving), banging on the basement floor lel, they get caught, creampies, slight make up sex, tate makes you taste yourself haha whoops, jealousy, tate and violet bein friends- she forgave him and whatnot, he makes a jokey reference to what he said about f-ing violet in the show but that’s just because it’s tate

You were cold. So, so cold. Desolate and drained of life, splayed out and unnervingly still on the floor beneath you. Your own dead body was casually propped in front of you, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Another milestone in the traumatic circle of life in which you lived.

You heard pitiful sobs ringing out alongside hushed whimpers, 'i'm sorry, i really tried. I promise.'

'It's okay,' you murmured, words hushed and tension building in your throat.

'I still love you.'

But did he love you?

You found yourself pondering this question lately, eyes narrowed and lips bitten to shreds as you silently sat on the floor of the attic. It was safe to say you were relatively adjusted to the whole being dead thing now, having made yourself acquainted with all the other lone spirits wandering the house.

'Come on, Beau, gimme a turn with the ball,' you smiled, watching the small boy prod, push and throw the small toy around in glee. It was heartwarming watching him be so happy and in his element, but also it twisted your guts knowing why he was doomed to the fate he shares with you.

Eager to play with you, the ball was quickly pushed along the dusty, splintered floorboards. You reached out to it, but the enthusiasm behind Beau's push caused it to roll further and faster than you'd anticipated. Giggling, you pushed yourself out of your cross legged position and followed the ball to the entrance.

The attic door was open, meaning the ball had fallen from the attic floor to the hallway beneath you. You knew that since you were a ghost you could technically just materialise yourself in any room you wished to be in, but you had a habit of trying to stick to doing things the traditional way when you could help it.

'Tate, don't be an asshole,' you heard a familiar voice snicker beneath you, accompanied by a boyish laughter that somehow always managed to set fire to your skin. Except this time, your skin prickled, your faux blood tingling as if your veins were flowing with lightning.

'You know you love me, Vi.'

Even with another girl, Tate still managed to be the only thing to make you still feel alive.

Your mood had effectively been soured, the ball no longer of your concern. You disappeared, ignoring the confused whining of the little boy behind you. You felt too betrayed to care.

If there's one thing that ignited your nerves, it was the shrill screams of children. The sound had you bristling on edge, agitated and digging your nails into the palms of your hands. The affection and care you held for kids didn't apply when they were crying their little hearts out.

'Are you okay, Nora?' you asked sympathetically, watching her grimace at the infant laying in the cot beside her, as if she were looking at the devil himself. The baby was crying out, for what you didn't know, but it didn't seem like it was going to chill out anytime soon.

'I don't wish to look at it,' she stood up, hands wiping themselves against each other as if to rid herself of the suddenly dirty germs of her child. 'Where's Vivienne?'

'Having a family night with Ben and Violet,' a new figure peaked up, the hauntingly familiar voice turning your taste buds sour and causing your saliva to run dry.

Shaking her head in irritation, she tossed a blanket in your direction before turning to exit the main area of the basement, 'I'll be back once it's calmed.'

You groaned. Not only had you been left with a small, screaming child, you were also sitting in front of the man who hadn't properly spoken with you since your death- and had clearly moved on just fine and dandy. As if you'd meant nothing.

Rage simmered in your chest, begging to slip off your tongue and rear it's ugly head at the object of your anger. But you kept yourself collected, it was no use sobbing until your lungs collapsed or beating him with your fists as you unleashed the pent up sadness and confusion you held.

And not only that, this was only time you'd been near his vicinity since your death, and yet he was still only talking about her.

There was an awkward silence drifting between you both, feeling his coconut coloured eyes raking over you as you stood up to attend to the responsibility you'd been left with. You lifted the baby into your blanketed arms, humming a familiar lullaby as you rocked back and fourth gently. The crying didn't cease.

'Do dead babies need diaper changes?'

Your lips pursed. The first words he felt worthy of saying to you after your death... was asking if ghost babies could piss and shit? You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, what else could you expect from him? That was the boy you knew, as dense as ever.

'Nope,' you responded blankly, 'You've been dead longer than me, would've supposed you'd have figured out dead people don't have functioning organs by now.'

'I dunno, but babies are babies. What else can they do except shit, eat and sleep?' he mused, his relentless gaze still lingering on your figure.

'Well, now he's only left with eating and sleeping.'

The silence settled in once more, and you tried to ignore how much you loved having his attention. You bitterly reminded yourself that if it weren't for the Harmon's spending time together, he'd leave you to be with Violet in a flash.

'I'm sorry.'

'Whatever for?' you inquired, voice light and airy as if you didn't understand why he felt the need to say such a thing. What could he have possibly done to feel the need to apologise?

You heard a disgruntled sigh from behind you, his frustration clearly becoming too overwhelming to contain. Good, you thought, be annoyed. You couldn't give less of a shit.

'Can we just go back to normal? Please?'

Normal?

Normal.

He, all of a sudden, felt as though it was time to go back to normal? After abandoning you, choosing another over you, betraying you, he felt it was time to pull on his big boy pants and act like all of this just never occurred? You'd known he had a slight fear of rejection, but you never expected him to have the audacity to not even face what he'd done wrong. To ignore it and attempt to sweep it under the rug, as if it were just a dry spell in your relationship that meant no harm.

You scoffed, placing the no longer crying angel back into his crib. You brushed back the few strands of hair he possessed, before looking to face the antsy man behind you. The nerve.

'Can't do, sorry.'

You walked off, disappearing as Nora came back to attend to her baby. Loving him conditionally once more, returning to care for and treat him as her own- on her own terms.

Much like somebody else you knew.

'I don't know what to do,' Tate groaned, 'I don't know how to get her to talk to me again, y'know? She's just like, gone cold. Like I don't exist.'

Ben Harmon sat across from him, arms crossed as he listened to the boys ramblings. It was almost entertaining how Tate had seemed to have gone full circle, and yet didn't have the self awareness to realise he was back where he started. No longer obsessing over his daughter, thank god, but another girl who'd enraptured him. Another girl who was, funny enough, also trying to cut contact with him.

'We can't force people to do thing's they don't want to do, Tate. If they don't want to talk to you, then that's their choice. They don't owe you a conversation.'

'Don't you think I know that?'

It was also funny how even though Ben had vehemently refused to ever see Tate as another client in his life, or in his death, here he was. Sitting across from the pouting man child who had begged him for help one last time, promising that this would be the final occasion where he'd ask for his assistance. For some peculiar reason, Ben didn't believe this would be the last.

'Is this week the first time you tried to talk to her?' Ben questioned, the unfortunate realisation sinking in that the situation was more hopeless than he thought as Tate nodded his head. 'Why?'

'I dont knowww,' he whined, head thrown back and eyes closing as he reveled in his self pity. 'I just, I don't know, I was scared.'

'Scared?'

'I feel like she died because of me, like I failed her. Like she'd have been better off without me meddling in her life, so I thought why meddle in her afterlife too? She didn't need me making her even more miserable.'

'Did she give any indication that she actually thinks this way of you, Tate?' His brows furrowed as he took in what the blonde boy was saying, trying to make sense of how he'd come to this conclusion in his sick head. Sick being the keyword, of course his thought process made no sense. Tate's mental state wasn't normal by any means, so it took jumping through plenty of loops to try to understand him.

Many, many loops.

'I mean, no,' Tate fiddled with his fingers, looking down at his hands as he tried to hold back his tears, 'I fucked up.'

'Yup.'

'Do you think I can fix it? Like I did with Violet?'

Ben paused his thought process, staring the boy in his eyes as he spoke through gritted teeth, 'Violet? What have you been doing with my daughter?'

'Nothin', nothin'' Tate quickly reassured, raising his hands in surrender, brushing off the older man's piercing stare. 'I have my eyes set on y/n now, me and Violet are longgg gone. Still cool to hang out with though, yesterday we-'

'I don't want to know what you've been doing with my daughter.'

'Gee, relax. I fucked her once, years ago,' Tate scoffed, rolling his eyes as he chuckled, 'She was a great time for a virgin though, she was sooo wet-'

'Enough,' Ben seethed, standing up out of his leather armchair as he walked towards the door. He opened it, pointing in the direction of the hallway.

'Hey, I was just messing with ya,' Tate softly spoke, trying to diffuse the situation. He didn't really mean what he said about Violet, his numerous encounters with you had made everyone before you seem as if they never happened. He just wanted to get on Ben's nerves a little, like the good times. Plus, Tate couldn't leave yet, Ben hadn't solved his problem. And he'd rather get gunned down dead again before leaving the office without a plan of action to get you to reconcile with him.

'Tate, you know what your problem is?' Ben approached him, hands making aimless gestures as he continued his rant. 'You don't have boundaries, you don't think of the affects of your words and your actions before it's too late. Consider people's feelings more and you wouldn't be in this situation for the second time.'

'Well, ow,' Tate cringed, face scrunching up as he took in the mean spew of word's Ben had thrown at him. He knew he didn't deserve niceties, but that didn't make his harsh words sting less.

'I won't repeat myself, Tate. I want you out.'

Reluctantly and with an angered scowl on his face, he disappeared.

'Fucking talk to me!' He cried, arms tightly clutched around your frame, holding onto you as if you'd vanish if he let go. You gritted your teeth at his sobs.

You tried forcefully removing his desperate arms from around your body, but your efforts were useless as they only spurred him to cling tighter. His salty tears were soaking the white fabric of the dress you had died in, your nose scrunching as you felt the wet patch press against you unpleasantly.

'Where we you when I wanted to talk?' you angrily mumbled, struggling to even lighten the grip he had purchased around you. You were stuck, and you knew there was no point wasting your strength. He was a stubborn boy.

'I'm sorry, okay,' he hiccuped, his breath hitching in his throat as he babbled on aimlessly. You understood a small fraction of his words, not even enough to string together a sentence, but enough to gather what he was trying to convey. You really didn't want to have your resolve shattered, but if you had to listen to his pitiful pleas any longer you were going to snap.

Snap, as in, take his soft cheeks in your hands and give him a fat smooch, and forgive all the heartbreak and pain he'd put you through recently.

But, you wanted to hear him beg a little more. You were quite cruel. However, there was a small, nagging fear in the back of your mind you'd needed relieved.

'Tate, what about... what about Violet?' you softly asked, your voice barely audible under your breath. You were scared, so fucking scared. What if he immediately let you go upon realising what you said, coming to his senses as it dawned on him that Violet really was the better option? That you weren't enough for him after all?

You knew enough of Tate and Violet's history to be aware that they'd been something once before, something intimate and that there had been a shared attraction between the two. You didn't know the extent, nor did you wish to know all the details, but there was something. And that was enough to have you on edge.

'Violet?' Tate looked up at you, tear stained cheeks gleaming and red as he sniffled. 'What- did Violet say something to you? Whatever it was, it was a lie! Is that why you didn’t wanna talk? Violet?'

'It was nothing that Violet did,' you stated, running your hand through his poofy, blonde locks for comforts sake. For your or his comfort, you didn't know.

'Then why?' his voice cracked as a sob escaped his throat, his head nuzzling deeper into your hip. He was on his knees beside you, puffy eyes, lips and cheeks pressing against you.

'You're just always with her,' the mental wall holding the sea of emotions you were harbouring collapsed, your cries matching his as you slid to a sitting position. Tate didn't let you go, keeping a firm grip on you as you joined him on the floor. 'You seem so happy together, and you haven't spoken to me since, well- you know when. And you and Violet used to be a thing, and I heard you say that you knew she loved you when i was upstairs in the attic one day and I just-'

'You're stupid,' Tate chuckled through his tears, arms adjusting to bring you against his body in a loving embrace. You felt the safest you had in a while, coddled in his arms against the wall of the basement. It was peaceful.

'I just need to know, Tate,' you brushed his fringe back as you gazed into his eyes, the love you'd left bubbling under the surface of your being, threatening to explode out of you. He was so beautiful, and you were yearning to let him know. 'Violet or me? I'll forgive you for not talking to me, won't even ask why you did all that. I just need-'

'You.'

You smiled, pulling his stupid, pretty face towards you to indulge yourself in what you'd been missing. His love.

Although, you still wanted to make him beg.

'Why'd you stop?' he huffed, nudging his face towards yours to capture your lips in another heated kiss. He'd gone so long without you, and right now, he was feeling selfish. He was intent on taking all of you.

'Proving I can make you feel better than Violet,' you laughed at the forlorn expression etched across his face, his hands tightening their grip as he attempted to pull you into him. He wanted you to become one with him. He wanted you so bad. Needed you.

'Babyyy,' he whinged, tugging on the material of your dress. You didn't move an inch. Now you'd made up with the love of your life, you were going to make sure the next hour of the rest of your relationship was going to start with a bang.

'Take your pants off.'

A goofy smile spreads across his lips, his grip untangling from around you as he reaches down to undo the zipper of his jeans. His hands were ready and brisk, making quick work of his clothing as he slid it down his legs. He'd been waiting for this since the last time you'd made love.

That was a part of the difference in how he viewed you and Violet. Violet was a quick fuck, an easy release, a one and done kind of deal- if he had known your pretty little ass would've waltzed into his life, he wouldn't have touched her like that with a ten foot pole. They were similar, true buddy material, but you were the breath of fresh air he needed. The change of pace he craved. You kept him sane, while Violet ignited his instability and made him lose himself. He hated losing himself.

You reached out with your right hand, your left keeping you stable and upright while you kneeled in between his spread legs. Fire was accumulating in your tummy, your arousal twisting and enkindling your insides. You saw the appendage beneath the flimsy material of his boxers twitch, a small wet stain signalling his desperation. His cock throbbed as he waited in anticipation for you to finally make contact with his aching hard on.

You traced just around the outline of it, watching his eyes as they followed your hand going round and round his dick. He needed your hand, mouth, cunt- anything, he just needed to feel you touch him. He'd missed your touch more than anything.

'Please?' he cheekily peered up at you, biting his lip as he smirked. You rolled your eyes at him, reminding him you weren't going to give him what he wanted unless he begged. Properly.

He entertained your false sense of dominance for slightly longer, until he saw your hand nearing the dripping mess between your legs and he'd immediately decided he'd had enough of the teasing. He wasn't going to get left out of the fun.

Before you could even process the change in position, you were knocked onto your back and your hands were pinned above your head. That was fucking hot, even if you were slightly winded. If Tate wasn't situated snug and firm between your legs, you'd be rubbing your thighs together, desperately searching for friction against your clit.

'Woah,' you giggled, smiling up at Tate as he frantically kissed down your cheek to the bare skin of your neck. His hands trailed down to your parted thighs, sneakily making their way beneath the flimsy skirt that was doing little to nothing to hide your clothed mound.

He toyed with the lace of your underwear, getting back at you for the torment you put him through not moments before. He watched as you bit your lip and rolled around impatiently, wanting his fingers in your dripping folds, rubbing and soothing the ache in your pussy. He just laughed at your insatiable need, leaning closer to cover your lips with his as he finally pushed past the barrier keeping you two agonisingly apart.

‘Oh, shit-' you moaned, trying to relieve your hands from the relentless grip your sweet boyfriend currently had around your sore, red wrists. You never knew pain could feel so fucking good. The fingers of his free hand were exploring every inch of you, tentatively circling your hole before rising up to your sweet bundle of nerves. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him. It was addictive.

Smothering his fingers in the flowing essence dripping from your hole, he bought them up between the two of you as he once more parted from your plump, swollen lips. Your cheeks warmed at the pruned state of his hands, eyes entranced as you noticed the way your arousal dripped down him. He alined his fingers up to entrance of your mouth, words that didn’t need to be spoken aloud hanging off of the edge of his tongue. Your eyes widened.

‘You- you want me to—‘

‘Open.’

One word was all that needed to be said for you to scurry to fulfil his orders. You parted your lips as he requested, watching as he lowered his fingers past your opening before laying them flat against your wet muscle. ‘Suck.’

Eyes fluttering shut, you wrapped the ring of your lips around him as you tasted the manifestion of your excitement. It didn’t as taste as bad as you expected, sweet even. You laughed mentally as you recalled all the fruit you’d love to indulge yourself in when you were still alive. Must be that.

You lapped your tongue over his digits, moving your head back and forth as you took every inch of them that you could. His breathing was becoming laboured, watching you as you sucked him in as if he were a lollipop for you to feast on. He quickly removed himself from your mouth, shuffling further down the floor until his hot breath was right above where you wanted him the most. He tugged your underwear down your legs, wrapping his arms tightly around your thighs as he hurriedly dipped his head between your soft thighs.

His tongue was cold as it came in contact with you, sending you jolting as he devoured everything he could get his lips on. Your wetness smeared across the lower half of his face as he pushed his lips closer against you, taking every little drop you were giving him. Your moans and whimpers spurred him on, his greed taking over as he meticulously circled his tongue around your sweet spot. His hips had a mind of their own, pathetically rutting his cock against the basement floor as you pulled him closer by his mess of hair.

You can feel him moaning against you, the vibrations sending sparks through your sensitive area as you squealed in surprise. You tried to pull away from his ministrations, but the grip on your thighs kept you anchored to his persistent hot mouth.

Kissing down from your clit to your needy hole, he trailed his tongue around the ring of your cunt before pushing past the barrier into your dripping warmth. You cried out, unintentionally clenching around him, legs quivering as he tongue fucked your hole as if it were his dick.

Speaking of his dick, it was feeling very lonely and like it wanted in on some of the fun. Finally pulling away from between your legs, he moved forward until he was face to face with you.

‘Hi,’ you laughed, taking in his blissed out appearance. His lips and the tip of his nose glistened, his cheeks pink and pupils dilated. His hair was a poofy, untamed ball on the top of his head, showing signs of your tugging and pulling from how it had knotted together.

‘Hey, greetings and salutations,’ he smiled back, placing a firm kiss on your lips. You deepened the kiss as you wrapped your arms around the curve of his neck, your heart soaring as he enveloped your body in his arms.

The sounds of your wet lips smacking together filled the air, your mind oblivious as you lost yourself in the way his soft lips felt against yours.

‘A-ah, what-‘

You felt something prodding at your entrance, his squishy tip forcing your walls to spread around him. You gasped, feeling your insides stretch to accommodate his average size. You certainly weren’t expecting that.

Taking the opportunity as it presented itself, his tongue slithered it’s way into your mouth without a second thought, twirling around yours as you shared spit. He slid inside of you inch by inch, groaning into your mouth as he finally bottomed out. He could feel your cervix kissing his tip, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. He missed this- missed you.

Supporting his weight on his palms, his arms rested against your head as he dragged his hips slowly back and forth. Usually your love making was a lot more intense, rough. It was pounding that left you sore for days with a limp in your step. But right now, you were both making up for the days you’d been without each other. Right now, you needed each other more than you needed to finish.

You could feel his balls making contact with your ass as he thrusted in and out of you, your vaginal walls stretching and tightening as he entered and left you. You feel so fucking full with him inside of you, realising how much you missed being stuffed with everything he had to give. Your juices were dripping down his cock, watching droplets of sweat gather on his forehead as he worked you both closer to your orgasm.

‘Can I hold you, please?’ you looked up at him, not missing the way his eyes clenched shut before dropping onto you like a bag of potatoes. You wrapped your arms around him, legs coming up to encompass his waist as he continued to make you both feel good.

‘I love you,’ Tate moaned, arms coming down to pull your thighs up into him, making sure you take every inch of him. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love-‘

‘I love you too,’ you cry out, brain going blank as the blonde boy randomly sped up his rhythm. Every thrust of his hips had him pulling you up onto his cock, genitals rubbing together as he took everything from you that he could. Every drag of his dick inside of you, every kiss of your lips. He didn’t know what he would do if he were to lose it all again, if he lost you.

Reaching between your sweaty bodies, he circled your clit as he pounded into you harder than before. Your cunt tightened, the pressure building in your muscles becoming so much you felt ready to explode. You were going to snap, the floodgates were going to open and you were going to cum all over Tate Langdon’s cock. You looked fucked out and exhausted, your body ready to give out as you took his last few thrusts.

‘Shit, cumming-‘

Your cunt spasmed as you came undone around him, ears ringing as you writhed and squirmed in his hold. You could feel his ejaculate shooting into you, painting your walls white with his cum. He slowly fucked it into you, noting with a dozy smile how great it was he was dead and couldn’t impregnate you. Well, not likely, he soon grimaced.

After a few more slow, gentle thrusts, Tate removed his flaccid cock from your sopping hole as he turned to lay beside you. You both turned to each other at the same time, loopy smiles on both faces that neither had the energy or care to try and hide.

You finally felt whole again.

‘Are you done? It’s not just you in this basement, you know.’

Hayden’s shrill voice calls out, her tone less than pleased at the sight of you two, fucked out on the ground.

‘Jealous?’ Tate remarked, wrapping his arm around you as he pulled you into his chest. You burned red in shame at forgetting your location, which just so happened to be the hub of every single dead person in the house.

‘Fuck you.’

first attempt at smut lol, hope was okay. feedback would be appreciated! <3

meant to be ᰔ .ᐟ

pairing ; tate langdon x f!reader

synopsis ; you befriend and begin to catch feelings for the ghost that is trapped in your house.

warnings ; none

note ; masterlist ; thank you all for voting on the poll, i hope you like this fic 𖹭 - i will make fics of the others on the poll, just not at the moment.

you were moving to a new house, you were dreading it but you knew there was no avoiding it. you had so many complaints but for the sake of yours and everyone else's sanity, you decided to suck it up.

you were laying on your new bed, reading a book you had recently bought until you heard a noise. being the curious person you were, you decided to investigate - assuming that it was either your imagination or something insignificant.

to your surprise, it was an unfamiliar doe-eyed blonde and he stared right back at you, closed lip smile.

you froze and stared at him in shock.

"you know, it's rude to stare." he remarked teasingly.

"who are you?" you questioned. it was your first day at this house and someone broke in.

"i'm tate, i live next door." he smiled, making a pointing gesture to his house.

you smiled back at him with unease, the situation was odd, but god was he cute. regardless, you introduced yourself and got a smile in return.

this interaction formed a friendship between you and tate. from learning about your music tastes to sharing your deepest darkest secrets knowing it'd be safe with the other. soon enough, tate became the best friend you never had and secretly you hoped he'd become the boyfriend you'd always wanted. though you didn't want to ruin what just began. he brought light during times of your misery.

the main conflict you faced when it came to liking tate was that he was a ghost. you learned that he in fact did not live next door, instead was eternally trapped in your house.

you were hanging out with him when it occurred to you, would learning the truth earlier have changed the severity of your feelings? this made you want to bombard him with questions.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" you asked.

"what did you want me to say? hi, i'm tate, i'm dead, wanna hook up?" he smiled.

you were caught off guard, though it wasn't the first time that he flirted with you. you were just afraid that it wasn't genuine and out of boredom.

this time it did not stop you from replying with the same demeanor; "exactly. that would've worked on me."

"oh yeah?" he hummed, inching closer.

your faces were now centimeters apart, tension filling the room but there was not long until it was interrupted by tates lips crashing against yours, you both closed your eyes in the embrace. this was exactly how the media described the perfect kiss.

he pulled away momentarily, to your concern. but his hands remained on your waist.

"what's wrong?" you asked, worriedly.

"you're so beautiful." he commented, admiring your features. the grip on your waist getting softer. he seemed so genuine, basically confirming that he felt the same way that you did.

you smiled, burning up in embarrassment and once again your lips gravitated towards each other as if it was instinct. it was like he was the only puzzle piece in this vast world that fit. it was like you guys were meant to be.

xoxo, lisboncy ֶָ֢

Can you do 15-43-46-60 with Tate and the reader? Like Tate teasing the reader whilst she’s driving?

Tate Teasing the Reader While She Drives

15. “Wanna bet?”

43. “Does this get you hard/wet?”

46. “I’m trying to drive here!”

60. “Cum for me.”

Yo I’m sorry this took me SO long, I hope the person who requested this is still even here. :/

Summary- Fingering, handjob, careless driving, orgasm, a very cocky teenager called Tate Langdon. Words- 1.3k

for obvious reasons that include leaving the house, Tate isn’t dead

I hope you enjoy! :)

-------

“You’re just mad cause you know I’m better at driving than you”, you say, gathering your belongings and putting them in your purse. Tate scoffs.

“I’m far better”, he replies.

“You get distracted at everything! I can focus on the road much better than you can”.

A cheeky grin comes over Tate’s face when he hears your challenge, and he chuckles. He ties the laces to his Vans and looks at you with an amused expression.

“Wanna bet?”.

You smile at him innocently, not knowing what torture Tate has in store for you. But your competitive side would never allow somebody as cocky as Tate to have the satisfaction of winning. You had to prove him wrong, whatever he had in plan.

Once you both sat in the car, you put on your seatbelt and looked over at Tate. He closes his car door and looks at you innocently, crossing his hands on his lap. You blink at him slowly and wait for him to put on his seatbelt, which he doesn’t do. He laughs hearing your dramatic groan as you reach over to put it on for him, to which he gives you a big childish grin and you roll your eyes, then start driving.

Trying to keep your eyes on the road, you occasionally look at the unusually quiet boy in your passenger seat. Even though you didn’t know what he was planning, his suspiciously content expression and deafening silence only meant he could be up to no good. Tate turns down the Nirvana playing on the radio but doesn’t say anything. You look over at him with confused eyebrows and he pretends to not notice you looking at him. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s up to, you hear a weird sound which immediately catches your attention. You turn your head to see Tate unzipping his pants and palming himself through his underwear, looking around through the windows, like nothing’s happening. Your eyes widen as you look at him for a few seconds too long, having to quickly divert your eyes back to the road. Your lips tremble for something to say and you only just manage to get something out.

“What-? What are you-?”

“I thought you don’t get distracted?”, Tate said cockily, making you sigh, finally understanding his cheekiness earlier. Without hesitating, he takes his hardening cock out of his undies and strokes himself. You look around at the cars on the busy road you’re on and worry whether somebody else will see you. You try not to give into temptation, knowing he’s only trying to annoy you and distract you, but you can’t help but glance occasionally, trying not to stare for too long, for safety reasons. His cheeky grin gets wider when you make eye contact and he notices you biting your lip.

“Does this make you wet?”, Tate whispered seductively. He begins to rub his cock fully, clearly not caring about the cars surrounding you. You moan softly at the sight, answering his question, and grab onto the steering wheel harder. He chuckles at your determination and stops touching himself completely. You stop the whine coming from your lips, knowing this is for the better, but not denying how wet seeing him pleasure himself makes you. You slightly rub your legs together as much as you can, the underwear under your skirt getting wetter by the second. The idea of other people watching excited you in a new way you never felt before, and the adrenaline rush you had to contain made your thighs tingle. You stare straight forward, and suddenly feel Tate’s huge hand on your thigh. Though this was something he did often, you were already too aroused for him to touch you at all. You brush his hand away softly, but he quickly returns, this time gripping harder, and rubbing closer to between your legs. A soft moan escapes your lips and Tate smirks, knowing the effect he has on you. You look over at him pleadingly and he pretends to scold you.

“Eyes on the road, missy”.

Your sweaty hands don’t know what to do with themselves, rubbing up and down the steering wheel, trying to focus on anything but the minimal stimulation on your bare thigh.  Tate uses his long, slender middle finger to slide up and down directly on your underwear, making you flinch slightly. He exhales in satisfaction at how wet you feel and moves your underwear to the side. You tense your whole body, gripping the steering wheel and clenching your jaw in the process, trying to not melt between his skilled fingers. He sees this and raises an eyebrow at your silent protest. He puts his middle finger on your wet slit and slowly pushes it inside, a gasp immediately leaving your mouth.

“I’m trying to drive here!”.

“Oh, don’t worry, that doesn’t bother me”, Tate states sarcastically, pushing his finger in knuckle deep and curling it straight up. A high pitch moan escapes your lips, and with a desperate expression, you search around for a quick place to park. As you try to keep your increasingly more and more shaky legs steady, and on the pedals, Tate begins to find a rhythm and curls his long powerful finger deeper every time. You whine, trying to keep your eyes open and constantly having to stop your head from rolling back. Tate pushes in a second finger and curls them both up at a faster paster, biting his lip as he watches you try to not fall apart. He moans watching you and grabs his cock, stroking it at the same time as he curls his fingers into you. Though your pleading face stays on the road, aching for a place to stop the car, your soaking pussy clenches around Tate’s fingers, holding them inside. Tate digs around in you like he’s looking for lost treasure but as he pulls them out slightly, rubbing and trying to find your g-spot, you take one of your clammy hands off the steering wheel and push his hand in deeper, yearning to feel every inch of his long fingers.

“Needy girl”, he mocks you. “Cum for me”

He demands and curls his fingers harder and faster pushing you over the edge. You moan and completely let go, giving in to his touch and releasing your excitement all over his hand. Your mind and vision go foggy as your eyes struggle to stay open, and the one hand left on the wheel battles with the aftershock of your powerful orgasm, trying to stay still. His attack on your insides doesn’t stop, even after you release, bringing you overwhelming pleasure. You pathetically attempt to pull his hand away from you, knowing that you don’t want him to stop, but he does and rips his fingers out from you, earning a sad whine. Soon enough, your eyes light up as you find a car park to a supermarket, and you quickly park, barely making it between the lines. You finally relax, and look over at Tate, who wasted no time in using the wetness you left on his hand to pleasure himself.  You forcibly take his hand off himself and he looks at you, expecting you to replace his hand with yours. Instead, you undo your seatbelt, and open the car door.

“You’re driving home”, you step out of the car and walk around to the passenger seat. Tate awkwardly shuffles to the driver’s seat, and watches you sit beside him.

“Maybe it’s a good job, I don’t get distracted as easily”, Tate says laughing. Though he quickly stops when you look at him with a serious expression and wrap your fingers around his hard dick.

“Wanna bet?”

say my name | hc

pairing: tate langdon x female reader

summary: headcanons - you discover tate’s kink while making out with him, and eagerly entertain the new information

warning: smut, so 18 + only; mommy kink, choking

a/n: I live off of feedback, especially after one of my many hiatuses. please leave a comment or reblog, as it would feed my starving ego

Keep reading

hi! ive been super down lately and was wondering if you could write some comfort cuddles w tate (i also love little spoon tate so do w that info what u will)!! ur fics abt him always make me feel so safe and happy <3

I hope that this brings you some peace, I’m so glad you enjoy my fics <3 also I’m sorry, I’m not very good with verbal affection so I just tried to depict it instead lmao

wordcount: 584 warnings: slight mention of mental health, otherwise none

He was already half asleep by the time you crept into the dimly lit room, one of his eyes cracking lazily open to survey you softly shut the door behind you and walk quietly to the large bed he lay on. The house was utterly still, a rare occurrence, and the tranquil essence of the air put a small smile on your face as you made your way around the bed, kneeling carefully on the mattress, trying not to rouse Tate’s stated form.

You shuffled closer, trying not to disturb the bedcovers as you lowered yourself onto your side, pressing your chest to the warm planes of Tate’s back before rising up on one elbow to fold the soft quilt laying by your feet over the both of you. One of your arms came to wrap around his waist whilst the other folded beneath your head, your deep sigh of content warm through the thin shirt Tate wore, caressing the already sleep mellowed skin beneath. His hand, large and warm, fell onto the one you had clutched onto the front of his shirt, prying your fingers away from the soft material and threading his own through yours instead. You brought your head up, nuzzling the side of your face into his upper back, your cheek squishing against his warmth. Sleep always came easily when you had Tate in your arms, the rising and falling of his chest beneath your joined hands evening out, lulling you into that blissful state, caught halfway between slumber and clinging onto what was left of the day, content to rest in a warm daze. A small noise cracked from Tate as his weight shifted, his shoulder pressing into your embrace and forcing you to shift as he turned onto his back. Your exhaled sigh was warm in your nostrils as Tate settled once more, the small conscious part of him reaching around your frame with one arm and pulling you into him once more, your entwined hands coming to rest on his chest, your head settling into the crook of his shoulder, sleep smothering the two of you as soon as you had melted into one another once more. There was something about Tate. Something that quelled even the most tumultuous emotions that often roiled through you, sometimes threatening to pull you under and leave you struggling to kick your way back above the surface. He was the air that awaited you above the dark waves, the hand that reached out to take your outstretched one, tugging you back into the open air. And so sleep came easily, embracing you into its softness, any dark thought kept at bay by Tate, his presence by your side unfaltering, even through the darkest hours of the night.  You were roused once again several hours later by his warm hand hooking under the back of your knee, pulling gently but with persistence and repositioning your body atop his, chest to chest, your cheek hot as it pressed into his front, one of your legs reaching downwards to tangle with his, the other remaining draped across his torso. Your weight was a comfort to Tate, the two of your bodies seeming to fuse together as the night continued to roll on, giving way to morning who reached it’s light in through the windows, spilling into the room and illuminating your entwined forms, clasped in each others arms with the same ardour as you had clung to each other when sleep had found you. 

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @sanni333 @mossybank (dm to be added or removed)

I want him

head empty, no thoughts except ones about making out w/ tate langdon.

tate likes kissing. if there’s one thing that’s obvious, it’s that. he likes when either of you is pushed up against the wall or laid onto of the other or - his favorite - when you’re straddling his lap.

he liked your lips on his, tasting of whatever flavored chapstick you kept on your nightstand, leaving him completely breathless against you. you ate every pant, every moan, and every whine that came ever out of his mouth.

don’t even get me started on the noises he’d make when you’d pull at his curls or bite down and tug at his bottom lip. tate would be like putty in your hands.

anyway i wanna watch him fall apart beneath me, thank you for coming to my ted talk

tate’s a needy boy

y’all know the flow. we’re back. I realise that my last post wasn’t that good so I’ll try to do It better this time dw. I have to admit that I was thinking more about kit than tate in this one lmaaooo, hope y’all will enjoy it. 

tags : dom!reader x sub!tate

warnings : HEAVY mommy issues, needy!tate, he whimpers and begs a lot oml, beating and slapping, degradation, teasing lots of it, and I think that’s it ?

enjoy 💋

Keep reading

*ೃ༄ flufftober day 10: i just want to be close to you

prompt: love language

summary: tate langdon’s love language is physical touch

writer’s note: first time writing for tate! disclaimer; i’ve only watched the first half of murder house, so no spoilers please and if i get something wrong, that’s why. i absolutely love it so far though!

flufftober masterlist | @flufftober

soft music played from your beat up speaker in the corner of the room as tate flipped the pages of his book as he read. you could hear his fingers brushing over the pages as he moved them.

his other hand was entwined with your own as you lay on your back, staring at the ceiling.

it seemed as if tate was over at your house every day now, just wanting to hold you hand and be with you. he spoke a lot, but he also just lay there with you or read a lot. your relationship was the perfect balance of what made the both of you happy.

tate squeezed harder on your hand, though he didn’t seem to notice like you did, and a faint smile crossed your face.

“i love you,” tate mumbled under his breath.

“i love you too. come here,” you say, as you tug on his arm to pull him closer.

his hands move from his book to you, wrapping his arms around you. you feel his breath against your ear as you hold each other.

on the floor of your bedroom, trying to be as close as possible to each other, you felt wonderful. tate always told you that he would always be there for you, and it truly felt like that in this moment.

“i just want to be close to you,” he says into your ear, your legs slowly starting to intertwine as well.

you mumble a reply in his ear, almost unrecognizable words.

I honestly feel like Tate would be as loving and clingy to his s/o as you’ve described Eddie Munson 🥹💙

YES!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE CORRECT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Literally all Tate wants is to spend time with you and maybe some mood stabilizers. That's it. He never cared too much for poker or boardgames or cooking or movies or dancing until he met you, but now he loves them because it's you he gets to do it with. He couldn't give a shit about whatever he’s doing, all he cares about is if you're doing it with him, if he's doing it with you. You're like a security blanket to him, he wants to go everywhere with you, he always wants your arms wrapped around him so he can bask in your soft touch and familiar comforting smell. He loves kissing you too because how could he not??? But also cause he loves how soft and blushy you get at his touch, he loves the way you lean into him and stop thinking for a moment when he pulls away until you come back to your senses. He's so vulnerable and so full of passion sometimes he yearns for you so much his body aches. Everything feels right around you, it's like you recalibrate the whole world and it all makes sense and feels less chaotic. You can read him really well at this point, but he doesn't realize it. He thinks you can tell what he needs because you're just that perfect, that much of a walking miracle that you just know. Sometimes when things get overwhelming for either of you you'll just lay in your bed all cuddled up and listen to music together until you get bored or hungry or fall asleep, and whenever you do he thinks he could stay like this forever. He doesn't know what heaven or the afterlife or the good place is like (and he's sure he couldn't get there if he tried) but unless you're there it wouldn't matter anyway. It can't be heaven if you're not there. The nicest thing he's ever told you (besides how much he loves you, which he could fill books with) is how great your music taste is. There hasn't been one song made after 1998 that he’s liked except the ones you show him. Maybe you just know him well enough to recommend the good ones or maybe that's just the overlap in your music taste, but here’s never had a bad thing to say about any songs you've shown him.

okay hear me out

Tate Langdon submissive.

with his teary desperate eyes, begging for you to touch him. you would kiss and bite him eveywhere, literally eating him out as he offers himself to you. his skin would be so addictive to you. his blond fluffy hair. his childish smile. his mischievous dark eyes. and his scent. a boy's scent. Tate's natural scent. it drives you crazy. you would leave bruises on him everyday. on the neck and the chest. Tate likes pain. he likes it when you bite him, the feeling of your teeth against his sensitive, warm skin as you ride him. he can feel the intensity of your feelings through violence. and he would bite you too. a lot. kiss you, bite you, and scratch you to express the strengh of his mad love for you. how he wants you. how he needs you more than anyone in this "hopeless world". he would totally be the type to beg. you wont even have to tell him to. begging for more contact, for more stimulation, more kisses, just more of you. you. you. you love the effect you have on him so much. and you wouldn't let anyone see this miserable lovely part of him.

can you write aftercare with evan/tate? like the reader being really sore after and him helping her/comforting her🥺

thank you! can even be a blurb or something small if you’re interested

EVERYTHING'S OKAY

tate comforting you after one of your daily quickies

tate x reader

tags : mentions of sex, comforting, fluff, sweet tate ( probs bit out of character but still ), cuddling

requested by anonymous

you were pretty much used to having sex with tate in the most unusual moments. before school, while studying, while your parents were in the house. but this time it was different, because there was no one to disturb your peace. it was a Saturday morning, one of your favorite days of the week and you had no upcoming tests so you could use the weekend to actually relax. it was raining in the morning, which was no surprise since it's the end of November, and Christmas was coming up. the sound of the rain wetting your window was calming. this was the first Christmas you could spend with tate together. the last times you celebrated Christmas were awful because your parents were always arguing for some stupid shit. they always took the first chance to complain about the other, or make snaky comments about each other. it always ended with you going to your grandparents house while they sorted things out.

this was also the first Christmas that you wouldn't spend with your grandparents, and you were actually kinda sad, because even tho being with them on such a special day meant no good you were still grateful that they were always there for you, and getting anything you needed. at least you have tate with you, and you couldn't ask for a more perfect boyfriend. he wasn't such an expert on aftercare, you always used to have quickies and there was absolutely no time for anything other then a hug and a kiss on the forehead, or him whispering sweet nothings into your ear. this time, you had all the time of the world. he has always been the submissive one of the relationship so you were a bit embarrassed to ask him if you two could spend a few hours together cuddling and talking, let's just say overall comfort each other.

he got up from the bed, still naked while you observed his beatiful back muscles, still lying on the bed. god, this man was so gorgeous. he was still in boxers, when he leaned on your face and kissed you on the forehead as usual. it wasn't something you've ever specifically asked for, but tate does observe your reactions and body language. he actually cared about you, because you were actually different. you probably would exchange him to be able to have one minute chat with Robert Pattinson, but at least he never had to fake a laugh around you. he could be weird, annoying, paranoxious sometimes even worth killing but he never felt so comfortable around someone. he would do anything for you.

anything.

"hey tate ?" it almost felt like a whisper, you barely could hear yourself. for some reason your heart was about to jump out of your chest. it felt as if you were having a panic attack.

"yeah ?" he replied back in a monotone but caring way, you could just feel how tired he was from his voice. he hadn't been eating a lot, always smoking, always sleeping and big dark bags under his eyes. he said it was probably just the seasonal depression, but you always made sure he was okay.

"do you mind if we spend a bit of time together ? we can do whatever you want, watch a movie, take a bath, you choose." you didn't want to sound desperate but at the same time you've been craving some affection recently. he just felt more cold, as if u were having sex with a dead man who could talk. almost like you were having sex with a corpse. you've been feeling pretty lonely, but was it really his fault ? I mean he's going thru a hard time shouldn't you be the one to comfort him in such situation ?

distracting you from your paranoid thoughts was him jumping on the bed, furiously taking his shirt off and getting under the covers. you were a bit confused until he brought his hands to your waist and hugged you. he positioned his head on your shoulder, caressing your neck with his nose. you relaxed not realising you were anxious. but you couldn’t even sort out what you were anxious about. tate was so caring, and never treated you badly. 

“why didn’t you tell me that before ?” he asked you in a calm reassuring tone.

“I don’t know... maybe I was scared of your reaction ?” you said, immediately feeling stupid about what you just said because he still hasn’t given you any reasons to feel that way. you were also scared to make him feel guilty or insecure about something he shouldn’t be guilty or insecure of. you felt him positioning his back on the pillow. you rolled to look at him. 

“you were scared ... of my reaction ??” he had one of the most confused looks on his face. for a second you stopped thinking to appreciate how much this man was pretty. he had the rosiest prettiest cheeks ever, he had those beautiful eyes that could make anyone fall to their knees. he had the best hair ever, you absolutely loved the way it felt between your fingers, tugging it while he was between your legs making them shake or just cuddling before you had to go to school. his smile was the most angelic one you’ve ever seen, but something that even made it better was feeling it on your clit while trying to not make too much noise by putting your hand on your mouth. 

he caressed your cheek with his thumb making you snap out of your limbo, looking up at him. “why would you ever be scared of my reactions ? did I do something ?” you exactly did what you were scared of. you made him worry about something that wasn’t under control. 

“no, but I was scared that you would feel like I'm annoying or too needy, I don’t know I just didn’t know what to think or do or say” he looked at you with a more relaxed expression on his face. he pulled you and placed your head on his chest, guiding his hand to your hair. you stayed in that position for a while, both of you not knowing what to say just enjoying each other’s company. you both were very needy people, always needing reassuring and fiscal affection. you were a perfect match. 

the cigarette of a smoker

the rubber band of the cash

the light to the match

you were made for each other, there was nothing in the world that could make you feel better than him. he wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t either. yet when you were together, you were one thing. one soul match. one flame. one perfect thing, because you didn’t complete each other but you were two pieces of a puzzle that matched perfectly. without any type of forcing. 

he picked you up and placed you on his lap, got his shirt and put it on. you took off your shirt and bra, and slided Inside his shirt placing your head on his chest. he thought it kind of made the two of you be one single thing. one single soul. you felt him trying to snake his arms around your back so you snaked yours around his. this is maybe the first time you felt warm hugging him. the world stops as soon as he touches you. all your worries ? gone. that’s the type of person you would like to keep around for the rest of your life. you felt this bubbly floating sensation in your stomach, that you’ve been feeling since the first time you two met. 

you both fell asleep in that position, waking up two hours later. it was still raining, but the house was warm. your parents were going to be out of town for a while so now you could spend a bit more time with tate, doing whatever you liked. the house was in complete silence, you could only hear your breath and his. 

tate woke up but he found you still sleeping. this man was so in love, he could look at you for the rest of his entire life. he took the shirt off, placing you on the bed with only some panties on, while he went to the bathroom and got the shower ready. he got in, and as soon as u woke up, you realised he wasn’t on the bed anymore. you heard the shower running so you went in the bathroom. the pavement was cold and you weren’t wearing any socks but you didn’t mind. 

you took off the last piece of clothing you had on and got in the shower, he looked at you with a slight smirk on his face which made you smile a bit. you hugged him, and even tho at the beginning he was surprised by your gesture, he held you as thigh as possible. caressing your back, you never thought you could find someone like him. yet you did. 

CRYBABY

unoriginal ass title i knowww but read ahead sweety, its hot.

this was meant to be posted a long time ago my apologies lmao

warnings: SMUTTT, sub tate, dom reader, mommy kink, kinda, pegging, blindfolding, handcuffing, kinda overstimulation, slapping, sex toy usage (nipple clamps etc) punishments, idk just lazy smut, just tate being a crybaby bottom

Despite the fact that Tate resembled to be your protector, you deep down knew you were his. The way he would always rather be little spoon, the way he would pout when you disagreed on something, how he folded his hands above every platform, how he'd cry if you threatened to leave, even if it were to be in a joking manner. But mainly how he'd get turned on by the slightest bit of dominance you'd reveal to him.

"Constance, again?" you question Tate, who's balled up on your bed with heavy teary eyes, he'd do this ever so often he felt upset. "Sometimes I just fucking hate her Y/N, i r-really do." he'd hesitate to admit. You'd usually cuddle up with him when he'd be this sensitive, but you've had enough of it.

"Oh come on Tate, fuck her. Let's watch a movie or something, hm?" you asked attempting to get his mind off of his monsterous mother, who'd only make him feel more worthless than he already did, to later apologizing with little pathetic treats and compliments about how he'd be her only "normal child."

Now trading the sight of his pale hands to your eyes forming intensive eye contact, Tate smiled. An adorable smile, which only melted your heart delightfully as he now sat up on your bed opening his arms in hopes of recieving a warm hug from you. "Aw.. need a hug, baby?" you babied causing the water droplets he had been holding back to escape their cage as you held him tightly in your arms, almost carrying him. "I know, I know, baby boy." you continue, provoking Tate's shiny eyes to close tightly as he slightly moaned under his breath taking you by surprise.

"What was that?" you question shockingly.

"I-Im sorry, Mo- ..Y/N!" Tate stuttered under you, uncourageously keeping his eyes tightly shut, pulling you in closer to him, almost as if he wanted to just crawl into your skin. His submissiveness exposing him more than usual.

"Were you gonna call me mommy, babe?" you rhetorically asked the question you well knew the answer to, producing another slight moan to escape his lips, unable of admitting the urge he felt of wanting to call you mommy.

"Call me mommy, Tate." you demanded, softly lifting his chin up to face yours. "I-I cant.." Tate replied, knowing damn well the motherfucker wanted to from the slight tent that appeared in his baggy jeans.

"You can't?"

"No.. I-I can't." said Tate, now burying his face onto your clothed breasts, covering his blush-filled angelic face as the tears began to rush in once again. "Its okay baby boy you don't hav-" "I need you m-mommy." Tate interrupted, wiping his now smudged tears off of his face whilst sitting up beside you.

Brushing off your excitement to his comment you stop and glared at him, silently asking for consent. For him to only nod desperately attempting to take off his jeans sprintly, in which you pause him by holding his hands above his head, pushing him onto the bed softly. Tate only whimpered softly under his breath before endeavoring your grip onto his shaky hands, producing a slap across his cheek.

"Stay still." you demand the panting man laying infront of you, connecting his hands with the bed board as you handcuffed him quickly with a belt you had laying around. Tate only groaned and pulled on the board causing a satisfying friction onto his wrists. "I told you to stay still." you warn him once again, slapping the opposite side of his sweaty face. "Fuck~" Langdon let out a long moan, to your surprise a wet creamy puddle begun forming on his jeans, realizing the man had came on himself from a couple of slaps across the face.

Tate did nothing but apologize constantly whilst pressing his legs together to reduce the slight pain his enlarging boner had been giving him from lack of friction. "Did I say you can cum?" you question now producing a slight jump from Tate who's already given up his need of showing dominance. "N-no.." he responded now liberating his needy facial expression.

"Then why did you?" you asked yet another rhetorical question unbuttoning his damp jeans, as you carefully straddled his clothed member. Allowing the heavy jeans to fall across the floor you begin rubbing yourself on him, gripping onto his wide shoulders for support. Tate only moaned, nearly screaming from the sensation, shifting aggressively.

"Shh, baby. Mommy will make it better." you whisper onto his ear, earning a low "yes. yes. yes." from Tate's pleading self, as you got off of him in search of a pair of nipple clamps which you were more than eager to use on him.

Tate's eyes widened to the view of your now naked body along some nipple clamps, nearing his chest more and more. "Stay still." you warn once again, now lifting his sweaty sweater just right above his nose leaning towards his eyes, covering them softly.

"Make me." he teased, fully aware what he was getting himself into.

"Wanna bet?" you reply, now attaching the nipple clamps onto his hardening nipples aggressively, recieving an unexpectedly loud bawl. With Tate's knuckles now turning white from his harsh grip onto the bed frame, you begin humping him once again earning nothing but lustfilled whimpers. "Y/N! ple-please!" screamed Tate whilst now grinding his hips onto your own making you yelp from the new sensation. Still, although you fucking enjoyed the feeling you weren't up for the fact he bluntly disobeyed you, yet once again.

"Did I ask you to do that, pet?" you interrogate as your lips aparted a few inches away from his, inhaling his sweet watermelon gum breath against yours. "Im so~ oh fuck~" moaned the man in between struggles to your index finger pushing past his entrance through his moistened boxers, a hole being ripped harshly on them.

You pegged Tate unsensely, leaning in to bite his lower lip forming nothing but beautiful tiny bruises. Him choking on his own moans, trying to ask politely for his sweater-blindfold to be taken off, you accept the request.

Taking the blindfold off of his pretty face you pause to acknowledge the sight you had infront of you, which was in fact phenomenally intriguing. Langdon's face was many shades redder, tears smudged all over, and of course the sweat that accumulated onto his hair, boosting his appearance by god knows how much. Your stare producing a slight smirk onto Tate's bruised lips adoring your appearance as well, which you brush off by attaching your lips onto his. This creating an immediate makeout, whilst your fingers still played around with his aching entrance.

"Im so fucking close, please d-don't stop." confessed Tate, tightly shutting his eyes allowing his warm liquids to fall onto your dripping cunt.

"Did I say you can cum?"

"Fuck."

taglist: @kaismessiahbb @thatspookyagent @kai-andersons-cheeto @divineruler @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood

(dont hesitate to dm if you'd like to be in the taglist!)

okay hear me out again.

needy and angry tate langdon. quick fucking in a corner of the house.

"Tate...wait.. my dad is in the next roo-....gh.." you try to articulate as tate speed up his wild thrusts, his warm breath on your neck and his shaky whimpers caressing your ears. "I'm sorry... i'm sorry i need...i need it...". you put a hand on your mouth, squeezed between the wall under the stairs and tates aroused body. he was so good. he was so fucking good. you loved it so much when tate was angry. he totally let himself go and always count on you to help him. he pulls his head back slightly to press his forehead against yours, moaning in pleasure as quietly as possible. "your dad...he told me i was afraid...of rejection..." he whispers between two moans, his hands squeezing your waist. "I think he's right..." you answer, panting, your lips sticked to his. He raises his head, his dark eyes half hidden by his fluffy blond hair, staring at you as he pound you more and more. "you'll never... reject me, right ?" you grabbed his hair and kissed him wildly, stifling one of his moans. "if i dare to do it one day... i allow you to kill me" you whisper weakly against his lips, his eyes locked on yours, feeling the orgasm coming for you two. tate let out a groan as he cums with you, his seed filling your shivering body. "...then...you are warned." he says finally, breathless, holding you tightly as he catches his breath while you come back to your senses, his lips caressing your right ear with simple words . "never leave me. ever."

Life Saver

Tate Langdon x Reader

(Before Tate dies)

A/N- Thank you so much for all of the likes on my first writing. It really means a lot. I hope y’all enjoy this one too<33

Warnings/ Trigger- mention of blood and bruising and some swearing

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“Move it asssholes.” My elbows shoved people out of the way while I weaved through the dense crowd of high schoolers.

“Tate!”

I lost my footing once I reached the crowd break and stumbled into the space where Tate was being held against a wall. His face was bloody. The bridge of his nose was split, there was blood coming from his nostrils, his lip was bleeding and so was his eyebrow.

The guy who pinned him rammed his knee into his stomach, making him keel over with a grunt. His name is Ray Tranton.

“Get off him you son of a bitch.” The heel of my book found his side and with wail he fell over. I noticed his face was bloody, more so than Tate’s. 

“Let’s go.” I grabbed Tate’s hand and pulled him through the parting crowd. I scowled at some of the individuals who didn't move. 

“Y/n let go. I can take him.” Tate tried to get loose from my hold. 

“Go ahead, run away Langdon. You can’t hide behind your girl forever!” Ray called after us. 

“Fuck off! And try looking in a mirror, you look worse that he does!” I yelled back, still dragging Tate until we were inside an unoccupied bathroom. 

“Sit.” I patted the counter and set my bag in a sink before digging through it to find antiseptic wipes and tape for his cut skin. I’ve gotten used to having to clean up his face. 

“I could have taken Ray.” Tate’s arms were crossed while he leaned against the counter. 

“Tate I said sit.” 

He sighed and lifted himself onto the counter. He slouched. I stood between his legs and started to clean up his face. 

“I could have taken him.” Tate looked frustratedly over my shoulder with a wince.

“Sorry.” I said. “And that’s what I’m worried about.” My lips pressed together before I said anything else. “Tate, you could kill someone. And I’m scared that one day you will. That’s why I drag you away every time you get into trouble.” 

He closed his eyes. That told me that I was right.

“Ray deserves to be dead.” His fists clenched from their place on his knees. 

“No he doesn't. No one deserves to be dead.” My eyes traveled to his bloody knuckles. I sighed and started cleaning them too. 

“Yes he does. Him and my mother.” 

I stepped back, knowing that if I said anything wrong he’d hit me. It’s happened before. 

“Sorry.” Tate locked eyes with me for a second before I came back to finish cleaning his blood. 

“It’s okay. Just try and work on that.” I put the tape over the cut on his nose and his eyebrow. 

We were both silent as I finished and threw my trash away. 

“Shit. My moms gonna be pissed at me for this.” Tate stared at himself in the mirror and traced around a few developing bruises. 

“You can stay at my place for a few nights. My parents left on a business trip last night and won't be back until next week.” I shrugged, slinging my bag over my shoulder as the dismissal bell rang. “We’d have the whole place to ourselves.” 

Tate nodded. “Thanks. You're a lifesaver.” 

I nodded with a grin. “Hell yeah I am.” He smiled as we walked out of the bathroom.

Are You Afraid Of Anything - Tate Langdon

Tate Langdon x Fem!reader

Warnings:  none

Word count:  584

Summary: You come home and Tate thought you left the house permitted only to find out you just went to school you both start talking because he wants to get to know you

Authors Note: “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything” American Horror Story Season 1 (Murder House), so this is based off of this line Tate says. I just started the show, so be nice it's my first AHS imagine. y/f/s - Your/Favorite/Soda

Masterlist

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I was so delighted when I unlocked my door. All I could think about at school was coming home, avoiding homework and talking to my new found ghostly friend Tate. I have been living at the famous Murder House for about 2 and a half months. Tate told me everything he did after 3 weeks after moving in. He didn’t know what he was doing because he did cocaine, he was getting back at his mom, plus you can tell he regrets and feels bad about it. I didn’t care about his past I care about now.

“Where were you?” Tate asked coming up behind me in the kitchen wrapping his arms securely around my torso. I closed the fridge after grabbing a can of y/f/s. I turned in his arms looking at him with adoration.

“The horrible hell hole they call school” I chuckled before looking at his face more closely. I could tell he was a combination of fearful, scared, and alarmed. I could tell something was off with him. Then it clicked he thought I wasn’t coming back. His eyes had terms starting to form in them.

“Hey, hey, hey, school is mandatory.As much as I don’t like going I have to, but I wouldn’t just up and leave you. Ok?” I stated cupping his face in between y hands, using my thumbs rubbing lightly back and forth on his cheekbones. I couldn’t be anymore fond of this boy. “Come on, lets go hang out in our room.” grabbing his hand and tugging him along with me up the stairs.

I like to refer to it as ‘our’ room when it’s just us because it was his first.

Once we got to our room I shut the door. Then he was the one pulling me. He jerked me over towards my bed and yanked me down on top of him. We started laughing really hard. Once the laughing died down we ended up just gazing into each others eyes I love his deep brown eyes, they are the most captivating brown eyes I’ve ever seen.

We sat criss-cross from each other on the bed, he started fiddling with my hands.

“Are you afraid of anything?” he asked out of the blue. I thought about it for a moment I’m not afraid of much but I’m not gonna rule out everything.

“I wouldn’t say I’m not afraid of anything but I am not afraid of most things.” I responded looking up from our hands. There isn’t much that I think we haven’t told each other. He’s like my only real friend, people suck.

“I will protect you from everything. Even when your not afraid of whatever's there. Promise.” he proclaimed nonchalantly.

“Your so full of shit” I mumbled looking down again. But he extended his hand up and lifted my chin up to get me to look him in the eyes.

“No, no I promise. I’m serious,I promise nothing will get you as long as I’m around. I mean it.” he stated looking me in the eyes sternly so I know he’s telling me the honest truth.

After that you nodded ‘yes’ understanding what he meant and said. After that he ushered me to lay down with him. He opened his leg’s and I layed down laying against his chest. Our legs tangled together and his arms enveloping me in his warmth with love and care.

We eventually fell asleep like that, after moving the comforter around us.

4am Cuddles - Tate Langdon

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 331

Summary: “You came into my room at 4am to cuddle?”

Authors Note: AHS Murder House, reader lives in murder house 

Masterlist

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I was having a hard time sleeping tonight I didn’t know why. I don’t have school tomorrow. But not being able to sleep is awful. I have a movie running on my t.v., but it seems even that wouldn’t work I have pushed play on the menu 3 times already. I wasn't facing it anymore. I have my back turned to it.

“I picked up my phone to check the time. 4:00 a.m. it read. Seriously, the sun will rise in less than an hour. I put my phone back on my nightstand.

I moved my blankets up and adjusted my pillow.

I started to feel like I was starting to fall asleep. But I felt the bed dip down behind me. Which made me alert.

When I felt arms wrap around my middle I quickly turned my head to see who it was.

When I noticed it was Tate I untensed.

He chuckled before nuzzling his head into my neck. Before he started kissing my neck.

“Sorry if I scared you” he said mumbled into my neck. Stroking my abdomen.

“You didn’t scare me. Just startled me. You know it’s 4 in the morning right?” I said leaning into him.

“Yeah but I saw you couldn’t sleep and I am in the mood for cuddles.” he snuggled closer to me, kissing my shoulder

“So, you came into my room at 4 am to cuddle?” I asked him giggling.

“Hmmhm” he responded. I could feel him smiling

“Your staying home right?” he brought his head up and rested his chin on my shoulder

“Yeah, I have the day off from school. Why?” I turned in his embrace, cuddling into his chest.

“Because we are going to sleep in. And when everyone's gone we’ll make breakfast together.” he stated tightening his arms around me, resting his head on mine.

“That sounds great.” I cuddled into him more, if possible. Not long after that I fell asleep in his arms.

Environments - Tate Langdon

Tate x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of little bit abuse

Word count: 121

Summary: Tate called Y/n over to help him feel safe.

Authors Note: I don't really watch or write for AHS anymore but I wrote this a long time ago and lost the notebook so ...

Masterlist

AHS Masterlist

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“Thanks for staying over tonight.” Tate said shyly as they entered his bedroom.

“Its no problem tate.” Y/n smiled over at him. He and his mother had gotten into a rather large fight and he didn’t want to stay alone.

Tate nodded and shrugged. “Its not exactly the best environment.”

Y/n smiled over at him. “Tate, its fine. I’m just happy to get to spend time with you.”

Tate smiled and grabbed her hand. “Come on, I’ll let you borrow a shirt to sleep in.”

“Thank you.” Y/n blushed following after him.

Once that was settled they both climbed into his bed to sleep for the night.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” Tate whispered.

“Goodnight, Tate.” Y/n whispered back