Tate Langdon X Reader - Blog Posts

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Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader

Day 8: mommy kink

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I like when you do that.’’ 

‘’Do what?’’ 

‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’ 

‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply. 

Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach. 

His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence. 

*

A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there. 

From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside… 

Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back. 

You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.

‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions. 

You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 

He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’

Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son. 

‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’ 

He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’ 

After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door. 

‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.

Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’  

‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise. 

He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position. 

When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits. 

You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going. 

Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh. 

‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’

You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants. 

Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’ 

He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.

‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’

That’s exactly what he needed.

With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans. 

‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.

He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’

You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head. 

Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it. 

‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand. 

You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up. 

‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed. 

‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ 

Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself. 

‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’ 

It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him. 

You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.

He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.

 A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow. 

Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire. 

‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room. 

You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst. 

You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet. 

‘’Are you close, baby?’’ 

He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’ 

‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’

Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that. 

‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.

‘’You want me to stop?’’

‘’Please.’’ 

You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’

—

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HAPPY HALLOWEEENNN!!!!!! To celebrate, i’ll be taking requests for Tate Langdon, Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher, and other spookies this week!

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All my feminism goes out the window when I lay eyes on this man... Uff😬

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made by me via instagram 😋

#be there or be square

realistically could i pull tate langdon

included the side profile and everything

i have a boner for ralph bohner 💞

NEED HIM SO BAD KNAWING AT THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE BACKDOOR OVER A TABLE ON SET IN HIS TRAILER WTF GIVE IT TO ME PETERS

girls get to a certain age realize that they are violet harmon 🍂☠️🖋️

PUHLEASE !! SOMEONE ! GIVE ME FANFIC IDEAS ISTG 🤧

idec what it is likeee

idc if its sturniolo triplets , idc if its evan peters, idc if its jack champion, LITERALLY LIKE ANYTHING

sorry, did you say,

“toxic, dangerous, sexy af and could probably kill me at any given moment if they wanted”?

…

Pretty Girls Make Graves - Tate Langdon

Multi Part Series

Dear America; From The Rubble to The Riches

Plot: Reader has just moved into the murder house and meets a certain character.

Warnings: Smoking, Drug use, Self Deprecation, Undiagnosed Dyslexia

When my mom told me we had to move, it didn't surprise me. The house we lived in cost too much, and there wasn't room for me, mom and my brothers. We moved house a lot to be honest. I was seventeen but had lived in over 20 different houses. It was the way mom lived. She had money and time, so she spent it being a nutcase, and we were along for the ride.

My mom was a bit of a hippy, and when I say a bit I mean a lot. She was living constantly in this "free love" dream where it was people's obligation to step away from society. Ever since I was tiny every house we've lived in has been filled with strangers. She lead a kind of open door lifestyle, with constant lodgers. They generally came along to coincide with whatever her new "calling" was.

I was the youngest child. I had two older brothers, Chris and Nathan. Chris was 23, but couldn't move out because he was too mentally unstable to keep a job. Nathan was 19, smart, with plans to go to college in New York if he could just stop messing about with drugs. I got on with Chris better, he was the one who bought me cigarettes.

The house we moved to was a large Victorian town house in L.A. It was exactly mom's kind of place, and was largely underpriced. She bought it instantly.

~•|•|•~

A week later we were bringing all our stuff into the house. I was carrying a box of CD's, ready to take them to the attic bedroom, which after several fights I had claimed as my room. I was currently paying for it, because as I walked in carrying boxes, Nathan kept kicking the backs of my ankles.

"(Y/n), just leave those there," mom instructed, gesturing the hall.  "I need your help in the kitchen." I put the box down and walked through. She was in the process of putting mismatched plates into the cupboards.

"Nathan said he's going to piss on my bed if he doesn't get the attic room," I told her, starting to put away the cutlery.

"He won't. Look at this amazing cooker they have in here," she pointed out, distracted. It was a big eggshell range set against the wall. I rolled my eyes. I took a cigarette out the packet I carried and lit it. Mom turned round. "Hey!" she scolded. "Share."

I gave her one and we leant against the counter.

"I bet school is shit," I complained.

"I know, honey. But I've still got to send you, even if I'd rather not."

I turned back to grab a mug to use as an ashtray. Mom started putting plates away again. We chatted, until I turned around to see a teenage boy stood by the back door. I jumped, almost dropping the glass I was holding. Mom turned round and saw him too.

"Hello," she greeted him in a friendly voice. "You must be the new neighbor." He smiled at her.

"Yeah, I'm Tate. My mom lives next door."

"Well, feel free to come in here anytime, we run an open door system, don't we (n/n)?" she asked me. I shrugged.

"I was wondering if you needed any help moving things," he offered. I didn't entirely trust him. He was dressed grungey, battered converse, ripped jeans and a knitted sweater, but was giving this kind of American Boy charm to try impress my mom. If he thought it was working, he was wrong. He could have told her he was a drug addict with intent to steal money to pay for gear and he would have got the same welcome. Mom loved pretending to save people.

"That's would be amazing of you. (Y/n), Tate can help you take your stuff up to the top floor."

"Sure, whatever," I agreed, stubbing my cigarette out into the mug. I went through to the hall and Tate followed. Chris and Nathan had just brought the sofa in and were arguing about it. Nathan spotted me walk in.

"Hey, you got one last chance to give me the attic room before I piss on all your shit," he warned me. I pulled the middle finger at him, picking up a box.

"Tate, you can just grab that one," I told him, nodding my head towards it.

"It's a bit soon for mom to have her friends in isn't it?" Chris asked me.

"That's Tate, he lives next door." Tate grabbed the box. "You can also speak to him directly, his ears work."

"Smartass."

Tate and I took the boxes up the stairs.

"Are they your brothers?" Tate asked. I nodded, not bothering to respond properly. "Are you going to Westfield?" I nodded again. "Why are you not fucking talking to me?" he snapped. I kept walking, but responded.

"Cause you're asking dumb questions. Do you go to Westfield?"

"I used to, but they kicked me out."

We got to the top bedroom and put the boxes down.

"What did you do?" I asked him, grinning. He frowned.

"Nothing much, just caused a bit of trouble."

~•|•|•~

Tate helped us move in over the weekend. It was lucky that we didn't really own a lot of stuff. It was mainly furniture, pots and pans and then all of mom's hippy crap. On the Monday, I had school. Chris dropped me off, giving me a tap on the hand before I got out his car.

"Hey, don't let anyone get away with any shit," he told me reassuringly. "And brush your hair, it looks like ass." I smiled at him half heartedly.

The first class I was in was English. I hated it. The teacher seemed nice enough but it had never been my subject, not that any of them were. It was a new term. She suggested a spelling test. The rest of the class groaned.

"We're not babies," one of the girls complained. I felt dread. After I'd finished I looked down at the words.

1. Culor

2. Defense

3. Axidentally

4. Foren

5. Principel

6. Realize

7. Nessercery

8. Happened

9. Carecter

10. Lesure

None of the words looked right. I felt like an idiot, but letters made no sense to me. The teacher gathered in our tests, and then handed out the books. Wuthering Heights. I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. If we had to read this on our own I couldn't possibly do it in time.

"I want us to read this as a class, now we have a new student. (Y/n) Bone, would you care to start on the first chapter?"

"What?"

"Just read it aloud, the first couple of paragraphs."

"No."

"Sorry?"

"I don't want to," I desperately tried to explain. She frowned.

"You don't have a choice, now go on."

I took a deep breath, opening the first page. The words seemed to wriggle around as I tried to recognise them.

"I have... just... returned form..." I struggled, conscious of how slowly I read.

"It's from," she added in.

"Oh. From a vis- visit to my... landlord." I paused, feeling my ears turn red in embarrassment. I heard whispers behind me and clapped the book shut loudly, making everyone jump.

"Keep reading," the teacher instructed in a firm voice.

"No." I was mortified. My first day and it had been revealed to everyone that I could barely read.

"You will do as you're told, I looked through your test and your spelling is atrocious, now get back to reading the book, and I'm writing you up for detention." I stood up, receiving an incredulous look.

"Fuck off," I told her, grabbing my bag and walking straight to the door and walking out. When I was out in the hall I kicked a locker and kept walking till I was outside. I sat on a bench and lit a cigarette. I sat, chain smoking, trying to decide whether to go to my next lesson or to leave. I contemplated this until I was joined on the bench. The guy had long, dark hair and a Slayer t-shirt on, chain on his jeans and a leather jacket.

"You're in shit with the principal now," he told me, pointlessly.

"I don't care."

"Well done on having the balls to walk out of Mrs Parks class."

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly, not wanting to bother with small talk.

"Dev, Dev Khare." He offered his hand to me, a gesture I ignored. "Come on, this place is fucking hell already. It's gonna be a bit better if you have someone to hang out with."

"I like being on my own."

"Bullshit." He reached into to the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a joint and raising his eyebrow at me. I looked back at him, unable to help cracking a smile. "We can skip next period and come back after lunch break."

I followed him to his car, an old Honda Accord, hopping in the passenger seat.

"This is a really old car," I commented, running a hand over the dash.

"Yeah, it's my dad's old one," Dev told me proudly. "Do you like metal?"

"Not really," I replied, honestly.

"There's a Misfits tape in the glove box, put that one on."

I opened the glove box, looking over the tapes he had. TOOL, Deftones, Slayer and Rage Against the Machine were just some. I found the Misfits tape and put it in the cassette player. Heavy guitars started blaring through the stereo.

~•|•|•~

I ended up ditching the last two classes and getting Chris to pick me up. He dropped me outside the house before leaving to go apply for another job that wouldn't last the week. I walked into the living room to find Tate sat on the sofa with three randos. I assumed he had taken my mom's open door policy as an invitation to spend his time here instead of at home. Apparently her gang of hippies had already shown up. They were passing a spliff round the group.

"Hey," said a white man with matted dreadlocks, spotting me as a walked in. "And who are you, friend?"

"Someone who actually fucking lives here," I replied, irritated. School had been crap, I was hardly in the mood for hippy stoner crap from a random trustafarian. I turned round and stated walking up the stairs to my room. Tate stood up and followed me.

"How was school," he asked, trying to keep up with me.

"Why are you following me Tate?"

"'Cause you're pissed off. I like people when they're pissed off."

If I was less annoyed, I'd be impressed by his response.

"Following me is only gonna make me more pissed off," I snapped.

"Good," he replied. "I wanna see what being pissed off makes you do."

I reached my bedroom and walked in, immediately noticing a dark patch on my red bedsheets.

"For fucksake," I cursed, feeling utterly defeated.

"Is that... piss?" Tate asked.

"Yeah," I responded, my voice wobbling. I felt my eyes prick and hot tears running down my face. I tried to forcefully wipe them away before Tate noticed, but he was already looking at me, almost surprised.

"Are you crying?" he asked me, sounding almost concerned.

"No," I lied, sniffling. He was the last person I wanted to see me cry. I hardly ever did, but the whole day had left me feeling like the ground had been taken from beneath my feet, and all of Tate's persistence to not leave me alone had made me feel a lot weaker than I wanted to be.

"Hey," Tate said softly, cautiously moving close enough to carefully wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. "Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." I let him give me a hug, wiping my eyes on the back of my sleeve.

"I don't cry normally," I apologised, ears feeling red and hot with my shame. "Especially not over stupid shit like this." He didn't let me go, just held me up next to his chest while I made my lame excuse.

"What made you so upset then? Was it the piss? I can help you get him back," Tate reassured, patting me on the back a little awkwardly. I shook my head, moving away from him.

"No, it was just school."

"Westfield is full of assholes."

"School makes me feel so goddamn stupid. Probably because I am," I complained, moving to the stereo on the floor. I never had a lot a furniture, not even a bed frame, just my mattress on the floor. It made it easier with all the moving house. I didn't mind. I put in a CD, one I made on a friends computer. Heaven Beside You by Alice In Chains started playing.

"I think you're smart," Tate told me. He was stood next to my bed, playing with the sleeve of his jumper.

"You don't know me Tate." I sighed. "I can barely fucking read, and that bitch made me do it in front of everyone."

"You can't read?"

"How shitty is your mom that you wanna be round here all the time?" I changed the subject.

"Very," he bristled. "She's a whore." I raised an eyebrow.

"Take it you don't get on with stepdads?"

"None of them. How'd you know it was stepdads?" he asked, looking from his shoes to meet my eye.

"Guessed. Kinda seemed like you were the kinda guy who's dad walked out and hasn't got over it."

"See. You are smart."

One Way Ticket

Tate Langdon x Reader | Angst |

Summary: Seven months worth of empty promises. Seven months of waiting for things to change yet somehow they always stay the same. Trying to change the outcome of an already released film, is just as pointless as trying to leave the Murder House.

Word Count: 865

——————————————————————————

Ten months ago, YN moved in into the famous house of horrors in Los Angeles, California.

Nine months ago, a strange yet compelling boy next door introduced himself to her as Tate Langdon, one of her neighbors from down the street.

Eight months ago, the pair shared their very first kiss.

Seven months ago, Tate had asked YN to be his girlfriend, to which she of course agreed.

At first everything was absolutely perfect, Tate would come over every day and since YN has been busy with finishing her last year of high school online, it was the ideal plan. She wouldn’t have to leave her house and could focus on her studies, and Tate could enjoy his “nature walks”, as he called them.

The two teens enjoyed spending time together and could confide in one another about different troubles.

However as summer approached, the honeymoon phase of their relationship seemed to end. They started getting into more and more fights, which would almost always end up in Tate begging for forgiveness.

At first the fights were about small things that piled up, but as time passed their problems only grew.

After finishing school, YN wanted to get out of the house more, maybe even book a trip for the summer. Tate however wanted nothing to do with those plans. He was set on sticking to their regular routine and would always insist on putting off her plans for different times.

One day after suggesting yet another fun summer activity and getting turned down yet again, the poor girl has had enough.

“Alright you know what.” Tate gave her a look but continued looking through her cd collection.

“Why do you always insist on always staying at my house? I there like a warrant for your arrest that I don’t know about?” She scoffed.

Tate simply mumbled something about privacy turned to look out the window. He knew he couldn’t tell her, she would think he was absolutely crazy and would kick him out. He was genuinely surprised that none of the other spirits showed themselves to her yet.

After deciding that silence wasn’t a good enough response, YN let out a sigh and moved towards the door.

“You need to go. Now.” At that Tate turned back to her, his eyes widened at her words. For six months of their relationship they hadn’t fought once. However after summer started they seemed to fight quite often.

“Wha-what? Please YN don’t.” He pleaded.

“No Tate, I’ve had enough. You’re always so secretive, you never wanna do anything outside my house. Speaking of, i’ve never even been to yours!” She exclaimed as her cheeks began to heat up from anger.

“I’ve tried to be understanding, I really did. But I can’t keep doing this anymore. Leave and don’t come back Tate.”

He couldn’t help but just stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Tate knew he couldn’t just walk out because she would watch him leave. She would see how as soon as his foot steps over the property line he disappears.

“Fine since you wanna be difficult, i’ll leave. But you better be gone by the time I come back.” She stated as her pointed finger poked his chest.

Quickly YN grabbed her purse and phone making her way into the hallway. She carefully went down the stairs and reached for the door handle.

As the front door opened she felt a punch to the gut and let out a yelp as she fell to the floor. At first she thought she was getting robbed, but the attacker seemed to only be interested in her.

She received a few more punches to her abdomen, then a women’s face came into view. She had a blonde updo and strangely familiar facial features.

“Stay still dear, shouldn’t be long now.” The woman whispered as she gently whipped the tears off of YN’s face.

Before YN could comprehend what had happened the woman left. That’s when the girl moved her hands towards her stomach. As her fingers touched the fabric of her shirt, she realized it was soaked with unknown liquid.

At first she thought that maybe she had spilled something. However, as YN raised her hand to inspect the unfamiliar liquid, she quickly realized it was none other than blood.

Panic started to overtake YN as she figured out she was stabbed by the blonde. Her eyes darted across the foyer in an attempt to find her phone and call for help.

As she lay on the floor, unable to get up or even move, a few stray tears escaped her eyes.

She had only recently graduated, her life was only beginning. She should have gotten to live it to the fullest and enjoy all the joys of it. Instead she was robbed of that. YN would never graduate college, travel the world, or marry the love of her life.

While her mind was racing with thousands of thoughts, her eyelids slowly became heavier. Her breath became labored and her whole body continued to shiver.

After a few more minutes of agony, YN became yet another victim of the Murder House.

Another soul added to the collection.

——————————————————————————

Ps: Hi guys! I know i’ve kinda disappeared for a while but im back. I would really like to start writing more so here I am. Requests are open so please feel free to send them! <3

Kisses and hugs, Anna

MASTERLIST

ahs

Sunshine Boy 1 , 2 | Kyle Spencer |

synopsis: A typical story of girl meets boy…and maybe some trouble along the way.

Born In Flames | Tate Langdon |

synopsis: Can the devil himself find comfort in simple things? Or does he crave something more cynical..

Study Buddy | Tate Langdon |

synopsis: You have been feeling quite unmotivated recently so Tate shows his support by helping you out.

One Way Ticket | Tate Langdon |

synopsis: Seven months worth of empty promises. Seven months of waiting for things to change yet somehow they always stay the same. Trying to change the outcome of an already released film, is just as pointless as trying to leave the Murder House.

rules

* requests are open *

will write for ; anakin skywalker ‘ alec volturi ‘ edward cullen ‘ tate langdon ‘ kit walker ‘ johnny cade ‘ jj maybank ‘ kai anderson ‘ dallas winston ‘ kyle spencer ‘ spencer reid ‘ aaron hotchner ‘ rafe cameron ‘ sirius black ‘ remus lupin ‘ james potter ‘ harry potter ‘ fred & george weasley ‘ theodore nott ‘ lip gallagher ‘ carl gallagher

will not write anything about ; puke ; shit ; illegal age gap ; age play ; rape ; abuse ; kidnapping

need him . love him . obsessed with him . want him ( in me ) .

evan peters i will always be waiting for you with open arms. and open legs. and an open mouth.

AMERICAN HORROR STORY

Tate Langdon:

Young Love: The sweetness of the rain allows for the feelings of love. Just some fluffy Tate :)

(Romance/Fluff)

Together Forever: Tate isn't letting you go now that he has you within his grasp. You're his and he'll do anything to remind you of that. Even if it means your death.

(Romance/Angst/Yandere)

Together Forever

Paring: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a corpse, yandere behaviors on Tate's part, angst, threats made against people ⚠️

"You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died loved."

Tate held you while your shoulders shook from sobbing. You had just caught a glimpse of the body that laid in the basement; limbs contorted and bent out of shape. It's mouth gaping open and eyes rolled into the back of it's head; maggots and worms crawling in and out of it's ears. The sight was entirely gruesome and you felt the sudden urge to vomit. That couldn't be you. There's no way that was you. You couldn't have overdosed on those pills you only took a couple!

Suddenly Tate's arms felt heavy and intrusive. They felt as though they were holding you down to the spot, forcing you to look at the sight below. Yes, that was it. It was Tate's fault since he was the one who dragged you down here!

You pushed Tate off of you and made a run for the stairs. He stayed for just a moment before he went after you shouting your name. You ignored him and turned the corner from the kitchen to the foyer without so much as giving him a second look. You tried to make it to your room but saw that Tate was blocking your way.

"(Y/N). Please, baby. Talk to me." He slowly tried to approach you, his hand out towards you like you were some wild animal.

"Stay the hell away from me! You're a psycho!"

Tate felt his heart jerk in his chest. He was used to people calling him crazy but the last person he expected it from was you. Sweet and innocent you that held his hand when you walked around the beach. Sweet and innocent you that played with his hair while he slept on your chest. Sweet and innocent you that just called him a psycho.

"(Y/N). I know you love me. Stop acting like you don't."

"You're crazy! I should've listened to them! You fucking killed me!" You took some steps back, tears running down your face and your hand twitching at your side in panic. This was the worst anxiety attack you've ever had and the person who you usually found comfort with in times like these was currently your reason for having one. God, you should've listened when everyone said he was bad news. But you were blinded with love at the time.

"(Y/N). I would never kill you. I held you as you died. I told you how much I loved you in your last moments and I was the last thing you saw. You overdosed on those pills to stay here with me. I know you did. Why else would you do it? You're not suicidal." Tate started to get angrier with every passing minute. You weren't used to being the source of his anger and after only seeing him as quiet and reserved, needless to say, you were terrified. Terrified of what he was capable of. Terrified of what you knew he was capable of.

You had to think of something to crush him. Something to get him to leave you alone forever. You hated what he did to you. You hated the person he brought out in you. Why did things have to end up this way?

"You don't love me. If you loved me you wouldn't let me die."

Tate's eyes went dark. "What the fuck did you just say?" He yelled and the lights flickered on and off; the lampshades shook and the furniture moved away from where you two were standing. You had never seen this side of your boyfriend before.

"Stop acting like you care! Go away Tate! Go away!"

"You're all I want! You're all I have!" His hands clenched at his sides and his hair stuck to his face. He wasn't going down without a fight. You didn't want him to leave you! Why would you want him to leave you? No one has ever loved you like he has. No one would die for you like him. No one would kill for you like him.

You tried to run for your room again but Tate caught you in his arms and held you there despite your struggling. After a couple minutes of squirming around you fell limp into his side. There was no way of getting out of this. You were damned to this house now. Your parents would never be able to leave. You were stuck.

"Just give up now!" Tate pulled you in closer so he could stop your movements entirely and hold you to his chest. "Baby, please just give up."

You stopped and you let him embrace you. What was the point anyways? He would just find you again. He wouldn't let you leave now that you were with him. You belonged to him in his eyes and that wouldn't change; dead or alive.

"You were the one who took the pills, (Y/N). That was all you. But now we'll be together forever."

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

"The way it was always supposed to be, love."

The two of you sat on the floor in the middle of the room; one of you excited for the future and the other wishing they could die again.

Y o u n g L o v e

Pairing: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: none ⚠️

Listen to this song while you read:

You slipped into the cold black sheets that adorned your mattress as you prepared yourself for sleep. It was an autumn night and you were ready to fall asleep listening to the rain patter against the glass of your bedroom window. The red panes cast an eerie glow over everything and made your room illuminated in the color. There was something soft and beautiful about it; something you couldn't put your finger on that made you feel as though you were safe and comfortable. Ironically, you were living in a house full of ghosts.

But they were not bad.

Your head hit the pillow and your eyes met the ceiling. It had only been a month since you've moved into the infamous Murder House, yet you were content. The house may have been old and the people may have been rude, but you found yourself here. And you were grateful.

"Hey."

You felt the bed dip next to you and you moved over to the left side to make room for Tate as you participated in your nightly routine. His hand met your back as your face met his chest, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. This is where you felt the safest. Surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and the cashmere of your boyfriend's sweater. The feeling of a now warm bed and the arms resting delicately over your frame. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

Tate kissed you softly on the head; the rain crashing against your window as the storm's intensity increased. Thunder rolled in and made the quiet house alive with the noise of the sky and the universe above. And amongst it all; you were holding your favorite part of the universe in your arms. His short breaths hitting the top of your head and the sound of his heartbeat resonating through his chest signifying that he was both comfortable and in love.

"Hey. Enjoying the rain?" You softly asked him.

He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Of course I am."

He moved your hair out of your face so that he could look you in the eyes. Tate has done a lot of bad in this world. He wasn't always the sweet and loving person you knew him as today. There was a time when his name brought people fear and pain instead of admiration and peace. You were lucky to know him now; you had gone most of your life thinking that people could never change but here he was. Living proof that people aren't always what they seem.

"I love you so much." He said as his gaze met yours. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world." He planted another kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you once more in his arms. In his mind, that's exactly where you belonged, even though there were times where he didn't believe he deserved to have you there. Times when he was alone and found his thoughts drifting to you as they usually did. Times when he saw you leave the house and remembered that you were very much alive. That you still had things to do and people to meet and experiences to have. He felt so selfish for keeping you to himself sometimes knowing that the house was all he could offer you besides from himself. And it crushed him.

As guilty as he felt, having you here tonight made all of his negative thoughts disperse. What had he been so nervous of? Why had he originally fought against the idea of loving you when he first saw you move in? Why had he tried to avoid every attempt of contact you made? Why did he try to convince you that your feelings for him were invalid because you didn't know the truth? It was only when you did find out and you agreed to continue loving him that he let his walls come crashing down.

You still loved him despite his past and the people he's hurt. You still offered to be here and to hold him on nights like these where the loneliness oftentimes took over. You still wore his sweaters and snuggled with him when he felt anxious. You still danced to Nirvana even though it wasn't your taste in music. You still wanted him. And that was more than he could ever ask for.

"Are you okay?" You asked, reaching up to touch his face.

"I'm absolutely perfect."

Lying there, you both fell asleep holding each other and letting the rain drown out the sound of your hearts beating for young love.

My whisper