#90s/aughts!medstudent!tate langdon

[ashes-writing]

a n a t o m y | ahs murder house ; t.langdon

|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||

** graphics made by me courtesy of pinterest + google image search. The list of prompts provided so generously by @the-purity-pen -huge thanks, y'all please go check them out. **

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔

Summary ;

--- (pt 1 of 2 ) tate just wants to help you learn anatomy in any way he can. 90's/early aughts Med School Tate Langdon au. this one is for you bestie @tbmunson because without our talk this NEVER would have clicked for me.

Pairing ;

90's!CollegeGuy!MedStudent Tate Langdon x fem!reader

--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.

Warnings ;

--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, murder house and his og backstory doesn't exist + tate langdon is not a ghost, but a med. school student, innocent reader, slightly pervy!sweet tate, lots of lustful touching, innuendo, corruption kink, use of medical terminology, nudity, lustful gazing, foreplay heavy -touching and dry humping, mostly. The banner is different because this is a whole other version of Tate Langdon, who is at least 22 here.

Taglist ;

--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my american horror story taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.

@krys-orion

@hajimaaaaaa

“I’m never going to remember all of these. How the hell does Professor Adams expect us to remember all the muscle groups and their placement in the body along with everything else? I’m going to fail this.” you’re disgusted as you toss down the pile of flashcards on the counter. Tate looks up from the textbook in front of him and chuckles, nodding to it. “Everything okay?”

You rub your temples, you can feel the migraine setting in already. Tate raises up from his chair, moving to stand behind the chair you’re sitting in, hands at your shoulders. As he starts to massage your shoulders, you bite back a soft gasp and your eyes flutter open and shut. The way his hands feel on your body has you thinking about anything but the textbook and the notes, the flashcards in front of you, but you don’t dare say this aloud.

Falling in love with your roommate is a recipe for disaster and sadly, you have.

But you’re probably not his type, you’re introverted, you’re not supermodel hot, you’re actually kind of a nerd and you’re not like the other girls at school, you’re very inexperienced. Awkward.

As Tate feels the tension gathered in your shoulders, he continues to massage, leaning himself against you lightly as he stops massaging you to reach out and pick up a pen lying on the tabletop. “I’ve got an idea.”

You glance up at him over your shoulder and he’s tugging off the Nirvana shirt he’s wearing, letting it fall from his fingertips as he holds the pen out to you and bites his lip. It’s so hot the way you get flustered so easy around him. He’s definitely gotten the suspicion that you’re not like other girls, you’re innocence and light. Warmth and pure. And god help him, he’s drawn to it like a moth to flame. He wants to protect it and at the same time, he wants to ruin it, ruin you for other guys so he can have you all to himself.

His little idea is just a foot in the door.

“What’s your idea?” you ask, brows knit in confusion, cheeks on fire as your eyes have no choice but to roam his bare upper body and your whole body burns just a little hotter when your eyes lock on his big brown ones and you see him staring back at you, the softest of smirks on his mouth. He holds out the pen to you. “Label them on me. It’ll help you see it and remember it.”

“Tate, I–” you bite your bottom lip but you take the pen and give him a weak but thankful smile. “O-okay.” your hands are shaking as you step up to him, dragging the pen over his chest first, marking off the pectoral muscles. He swallows hard and bites back a groan, managing to keep a straight face the whole time he’s doing it but as that pen moves lower, he can feel himself getting really, really hard. He never stopped to consider that getting you to do this -getting you to touch him in the process, was going to be the tease it was turning into.

You’re done labeling his upper body and you’ve stepped closer to him at some point, when it happens and your bodies brush, he bites back the quietest of growls, quick to disguise it with a chuckle. He can feel the pen shaking in your fingers but he doesn’t say anything, instead pretending he doesn’t notice because the last thing he wants is you to stop touching him. He grabs the textbook from the table without breaking his gaze and bites his bottom lip as he reads out each grouping of muscles you’ve labeled. 

“See?” he chuckles, stepping just a little closer as he sits the book down on the table nearby, brown eyes fixed on you, leaning down and into you just slightly. It’s enough that you can feel your thighs clamp together tight as your panties really start to soak through. And you’re flustered, stammering for your words. He pushes the pen back into your hand and takes a shaky breath. “Do y’ think you can remember the others? Or do I…” he nods to his jean clad lower body and you nearly swallow your tongue, stammering out that he doesn’t have to do this, that you think you can remember.

“I don’t mind, darling.” he coaxes, biting his lip as a low and dark chuckle slips past, “Unless it’s gonna make you uncomfortable? That’s the last thing I want to do, princess.” and he wants to punch himself when the pet name leaves his mouth but he can’t help it, you’re bringing out this whole other side of him and it’s so overwhelming that he can’t possibly keep fighting it.

“N-no. No. It’s fine. I just…” your eyes are glued to his hand and the way it hovers over the button of his jeans. As the button slips through the buttonhole, you just barely bite back an unholy whine threatening to come. Then he’s unzipping his jeans and your breath catches, hanging in your throat. His pants fall to the floor and you tell yourself not to look down but naturally, this is the first thing you find yourself doing. Tate sees it and he licks his lips, reaching out to lightly grip your jaw, giving just the smallest squeeze as he tilts your face so that your eyes meet his. 

“You alright?” his question is asked in a husky whisper, his mouth just nearly grazing against your own… And if you were smarter, you’d have figured out by now that he’s definitely up to something. And it’s everything you’ve lain awake nights imagining, touching yourself underneath the bed sheets, all hot and bothered as you picture what your hot and broody roommate might look like beneath his clothes.

“Y-yeah.” you manage to stammer out the word and it’s lame, weak. You’re not okay right now, your stomach is coiled and your thighs are clamped so damn tight they hurt and you’re visibly flustered, you’ve dropped the damn pen before you even realize it. Tate bends to pick it up and maybe he’s teasing a little when he looks you in the eye and uses that smooth tone he’s so adept at using and the one that always calms you down, “Relax. ‘S not like you’ve never seen this…” 

“Right, yeah.” you’re laughing despite knowing full well that Tate’s cock is the first cock you’ve actually seen before and now that you have, all you can think about is how badly you wish it was buried inside of you. You try to shove the thought out of your head and focus on labeling the groups of muscles that make up his thighs and then his calves and you pause when you hear him grunt and it’s this husky sound from deep within him.

You’re dangerously close to his cock right now, the warmth of your breath fanning against it a little when you breathe in and out. He squirms a little, tries to keep his composure so he doesn’t make things awkward, but your breath against it has it getting even harder. He fixes his gaze down on the top of your head and tries like hell not to imagine curling his fingers in soft strands, tugging as he pushes your mouth down around his member.

When you stand again, holding up the pen to him, he lets out a long and ragged breath and his legs finally seem to relax, even if only a little. “Let’s see how y’ did.” he picks up the book again, noting all the names and areas you’ve marked off, chuckling to himself as he sits the book to the side again and bends down, pulling back up his jeans and black boxers. “Think you can remember now?” he asks, his tone huskier as it leaves his mouth. You’re stepping closer too, your bodies bump against each other, his hand against your hip just slightly. You give him a flustered smile and nod, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“If you…” you start to offer yourself up to do the same for him, but you can’t even begin to make the words leave your mouth. The door to your shared apartment is being beaten down and Tate grumbles as soon as he hears one of the frat boys he’s friends with yelling through the other side.

The second Tate is gone to answer the door, you lean heavily against the fridge and you try your very best to pull yourself together.

You’re going to need an ice bath now and you know it.

#90s/aughts!medstudent!tate langdon #tate langdon #tate langdon smut #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon fanfiction #tate langdon x fem!reader #tppkinktober2022 #tppkinktober #tppkinktober22 #kinktober #kinktober 22 #kinktober 2022 #kinktober22 #kinktober2022 #<- minors absofuckinlutely not. a general warning for all my adult content. #-> please read all warnings before reading. #<- female reader ; vague description (female parts) #-> we're ignoring his death and literally everything else bc i have an idea. if you wanna see more please... tell me so bc i have... ideas

[ashes-writing]

a n a t o m y pt t w o | ahs murder house ; t.langdon

|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||

** graphics made by me courtesy of pinterest + google image search. The list of prompts provided so generously by @the-purity-pen -huge thanks, y'all please go check them out. **

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

Summary ;

--- (pt 2of 3 ) the anatomy lessons continue in the bedroom. 90's/early aughts Med School Tate Langdon au. this one is for you bestie @tbmunson because without our talk this NEVER would have clicked for me.

Pairing ;

90's!CollegeGuy!MedStudent Tate Langdon x fem!reader

--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.

Warnings ;

--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, murder house and his og backstory doesn't exist + tate langdon is not a ghost, but a med. school student,. Virgin!reader and Tate with a virginity kink, body fluids, oral sex (m-giving), lustful touching / masturbation (both parties to each other), possessive!tate - here and there, p in v sex - unprotected, pet names, marking, light choking, soft!dom Tate. The banner is different because this is a whole other version of Tate Langdon, who is at least 22 here.

Taglist ;

--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my american horror story taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.

@krys-orion

@hajimaaaaaa

“We’ve been at this for hours, fuck.” Tate’s voice shatters your concentration and a second later, the heavy textbook open on the table slams shut with a quiet thud. 

You stretch and yawn, gaping as you set sights on the clock on the wall near the ceiling. You pull yourself out of the chair you’ve been sitting in for hours now and you stop behind him, tentatively resting your hands against broad shoulders. You start to massage, clumsily. Tate nearly chokes on air, but he chuckles, glancing up over his shoulder at you. He’s always massaging your shoulders so your thought process was that maybe you could repay the favor. Besides, you’re sleepy and it seems like the later it gets, the lower your inhibitions drop.

His head falls back a little as you work your hands in a circular motion across his shoulders. He’s melting at your touch before he even realizes it and the more you massage him, the harder his cock gets. He almost can’t take all the touching or the way you’re leaning against him just a little bit from behind. This is why he glances up at you and nods to the sofa in the living room. “Might… ah, it might help if we go in there, yeah? More room to uh.. Move.” his butter wouldn’t melt voice and that sweet little smirk as he looks right at you with doe eyes and one intention in his mind.

See, when he had you diagramming the muscles out on his body earlier, you unknowingly confirmed his suspicions about certain things, all without trying. And as soon as he realized that what he’s suspected about you for months might be true, well… He can’t resist, now he has to have you all to himself. He wants to be the man whose name you moan, your nails dragging down his back in the heat of the moment. He wants you all to himself, more than he’s ever wanted anything before and when Tate Langdon wants something, he’ll do anything he can to make sure he gets what he wants.

Just the thought that you might feel something for him like he does for you has him elated. Excited. Happy about something for the first time in a long time.

Now he wants to see if his other suspicions about you are true as well.. The key one being the fact that from the moment he met you, he’s gotten strong virgin vibes off of you and it drives him absolutely crazy, the thought that you might still be cherry. Untouched.

As in, you could belong to him and him alone if he plays his cards right.

And if you do feel something for him… It’s not the pipe dream it was before this afternoon anymore.

You laugh softly and let him pull you out of the chair and this is how you wind up body to body with him, face all hot as you stare up at him with those big eyes, pupils nearly blacking out their natural color. He steps away but it’s reluctantly, and he makes his way into the living room, sinking down to sit on the sofa.

You wiggle in behind him after a few seconds to pull yourself together. “Your shirt, it’s ah… If it wasn’t in the way, Tate.” you stammer out the words, face burning even hotter. He pulls his shirt off, letting it settle on the sofa cushion. “C’mon.. Come sit in my lap.” he drawls, gazing back at you. “Let me give ya a massage too. So it’s fair.”

You move around, sitting in his lap. Awkwardly at first, on the edge of it, closer to his knees. Tate chuckles and one look at the way your face is flushed and you’re about to chew right through your bottom lip has him getting even harder. His hands settle on your hips gently to reassure you.  “You can get closer. C’mon.” he coaxes, pulling you closer to him. You gasp a little and freeze as the sound leaves your mouth. Tate chuckles to himself quietly. After clearing his throat, he nods to your shirt and swallows hard. “It’s gonna be in the way too…”

And with shaking fingers, you start to pull your shirt off, letting it settle on the sofa on top of the Nirvana shirt he’d taken off. He’s openly staring, biting his lip just to bite back the groan that’s threatening to break free from the depths of his soul at any second.

A thick tension is settled in the air and the second you pick up on it, you can feel your tummy flutter. As he starts to work your shoulders with his fingers, you’re melting little by little. Struggling to focus on the massage you’re attempting to give him in return and you feel really bad about it, but his touch is so distracting til you can’t focus on anything but how good his hands feel against your body.

You shiver and he feels it. “Feel good?” he asks, his voice thicker. Lower. Enough so that you can feel yourself wanting to clench your thighs as you start to get wet all over again. He feels the tension in your thighs and lowers his hands, letting them rest against your legs. You suck in a sharp breath as his fingers start to knead your thighs, choking out a quietly whimpered, “W-what are you doing, Tate?”

“You’re real tense, darling. So tense.” Tate answers quietly, dragging his tongue over the outline of his lips as he stares at you intently. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” his hands cease their movements and you shake your head, pouting a little because the last thing you want is Tate to stop touching you, not when him touching you -among so many other things, is what you’ve been wanting for months now. 

“N-no. No, don’t stop.” you practically gasp out the words, adding a quieter and quickly uttered, “Please.”

“You sure?” he leans in a little closer, fingers creep higher on your thigh, just barely grazing against you, a touch so light that you’re unsure whether he touched you at all in the first place. 

You suck in a sharp breath and your body burns even hotter. 

He gives you this little head tilt, doe eyes study you intently and you don’t miss the way they lock on your chest, the way your tits push against your bra. But then he’s staring at your mouth and he’s staring at it so hard. The weight of his stare is enough to have your lips tingling. It also prompts you to lean in just slightly, your face lingering awkwardly close to his and this makes him chuckle all over again, his hands going still to rest against your lower back. It’s starting to sink in for you that the only things separating your bodies from complete skin to skin contact right now are the jeans you’re both wearing and your underwear. 

And suddenly, it’s too much.

You gulp and Tate sees it. He also sees the way your pupils now completely black out the color of your eyes and he knows. He knows.

You want him.

You really, really want him.

To test this out and see if he’s correct, he just barely shifts the way he’s sitting. This causes him to rub against you just barely. It’s enough that your cunt is throbbing now and your breath hangs in your throat, your nails dig into his bare shoulder just a little more. You melt against him just a little more, this puts your upper body even closer to his and the feel of skin against skin has him gripping the cushion on the couch as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Ya know, I’m startin to think you don’t want me to stop touchin you, baby…” Tate muses, dropping his gaze to the way your tits push against the thin lace constraints of your favorite pale pink bra. He knows it’s your favorite because it’s the one you wear the most.

It’s something about the way his voice deepens when he calls you baby and this is combined with the way his fingertips dig into your lower back and he’s rubbed himself against you all over again that makes you roll your hips against the accidental contact because you’re just so… Desperate. Needy. You need to feel him do it again. 

His head falls back against the couch, “Fuck.” he groans out loud, his hand raises, catching in dark, thick hair as he tugs at it like he’s trying to pull himself together and failing hard. “If you want me to stop.” his warning is a breathy one feathered into kisses against the front of your throat as those kisses turn into little nips at your skin. You know you’re probably about to dive headfirst into disaster, but your answer comes before you can stop it, “What if I don’t, Tate?”

And that last little bit of restraint he was trying to maintain, it’s gone. Shattered. He pushes you back against the sofa and he’s settled his full weight on you, pinning you flat beneath him with one of his hands holding both of yours over your head. And you’re trying to figure out when is the time that you tell him he’s your first and he will be your first at damn near everything, but the words won’t leave your lips. You freeze beneath him, staring up as he devours your mouth in a hungry kiss and breathes into it, “You a virgin, babe?” his voice husky, cracking as he nips at your bottom lip and then pushes his tongue between pillowy barriers to run along your own, massaging.

“Y-yeah.” you whine out, rocking yourself up into him in a frenzy as the coil in your stomach tightens even more, you can feel your thighs coating, getting all sticky as your juices settle on the insides and your legs squeeze his hips as he rocks himself into you in a frenzy to meet your hips movements. His teeth latch against your neck and he’s chuckling to himself, mumbling, repeating aloud seconds later, “This is gonna be so fuckin…. Fuck.” he breathes in deep, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as if your scent will center him somehow, but it doesn’t seem to be working. He stops to stare down at you, his hand caressing your face, the pad of his thumb dragging over your mouth. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he promises before starting to make his way down your body, lingering over you to pull down your jeans and panties, then he’s pulling you up slightly to unfasten your bra and take it off, his hands kneading your breasts, thumbs dragging over your nipples until you’re whining and begging, trying to pull him back down into you so that he’s closer.

Your clothing settles on the floor and your hands are shaking when you raise one to attempt pulling his jeans and boxers off. He lowers your hand, chuckling. When he slips away from you to pull off his own jeans and boxers, you’re pouting about it. Your eyes roam over him slowly, taking him in. He’s doing the same right back, biting at his bottom lip as doe eyes flit over your body, lingering just long enough in certain areas that you’re hot all over and you attempt to raise your hand to cover your tits with your arm. He reaches out, tugging your arm away, chuckling against your ear as he mutters quietly, “Aht. Aht. Let me look at y’, baby.” his other hand lowering to circle his thick length, giving it a few lazy pumps as he lets out a very shaky deep breath.

You’re pushed back against the couch again and he’s settled between your thighs, his arms spreading you open wider as they hook beneath your thighs and his hands settle on your hips to hold you against the couch completely. 

The first time his tongue drags right up your wet and aching center in a broad stripe, you moan and it’s loud. You can feel his smirk as his lips latch onto your clit. Since you can’t move your hips and rock against his mouth like you’re dying to, your hand drifts down, settling in his hair as your fingers tangle in it and pull. He stops sucking your clit to look up at you and give a smirk. “Pull harder, princess. You’re gonna want to by the time I’m done.” 

One hand leaves your hips and he drags his finger over your aching sex, rutting against the sofa beneath him when he feels your full body shiver at the touch. “This might hurt a little.” he mumbles in a daze, eyes glued to your pussy as he buries two of his fingers deep inside of you, stretching you out enough that it does burn a little, his fingers pumping in and out, curving inside you in a come hither motion, strumming against your spot and making you use the little bit of movement having one of your hips free allows to rock yourself clumsily against the movements of his fingers. You’re getting wetter and the wetter you get, he groans, rutting himself into the sofa even more because anything feels better than nothing right now and he can’t wait to be buried inside of you but he knows he needs to take his time.

Do this right.

Get you all nice and wet and begging for his cock first.

His tongue slips into your cunt with his fingers and you tug harder at his hair, almost as if you’re shoving his head down lower and he growls against your skin, leaving a bite on your pelvic mound to mark you. “So fuckin sweet, baby.. Such a good girl… C’mon, pull harder.” he coaxes, stopping to gaze up at you. It takes everything in him not to crack and just bury himself to the hilt inside of you when he sees the fucked out gleam in your eyes, the way your head’s fallen back and you’re biting your lips as if you’re trying to stay quiet. You staying quiet is the last thing he wants, so Tate gets it in his mind that he needs to make you louder. He wants you screaming his name by the end of this.

“Tate, please?” you whine out, rocking against his face as his tongue and fingers continue to work you, the coil in your stomach growing tighter as you grip his hair and the couch cushion and you try to curl your toes against it too. He growls to himself, pussy drunk, knowing he’d love nothing more than to stay between your thighs for hours, the wet slosh of your juices as he licks you clean and his lewd slurps echo off of the walls of the apartment. He chuckles, pausing to gaze up at you. “Hm?”

“Now, Tate.” you whine, helpless. “I’m.. I want you.” you insist.

And Tate can’t deny you anything, he realizes this as soon as he sets sights on your begging little pout and the way your eyes widen for him. “You sure?”

“Tate, please!” you’re whining louder, more insistent.

He wipes his hand across the back of his mouth as he pulls his fingers out of your virgin cunt, making his way back up your body to grip your throat and pull you into a deep and needy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He lines himself up with your entrance, grazing the tip between your folds, chuckling when you whimper and hiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He settles his full weight on your body and his hands on your hips, squeezing each one as he sinks in a little deeper, pausing to gaze at you in concern, biting his lip.

You feel stretched. Too full. You’re not used to him yet.

The burn stings and you fight back a tear or two when you try to rock yourself up and down his length and you’re only met with a more intense burn. “Easy, babe.” he coaxes, gentle kisses peppering your skin, “Just get used t’ me.. Don’t wanna hurt you..”

Your walls are so tight around him that he feels like he’ll cum hard any second. When he feels you starting to move just a little, he sinks in just a little deeper, fucking into you slow and deep, lips latched against your neck at first before crashing his mouth against yours in a kiss that’s gentle and deep and lasts until you’re breathless. “Takin me so well, baby.” he praises, soft against your skin, “Think you can take a little more?”

“Yes, please.. Ah… Oh god, right there.” your nails dig into his shoulders and drag up and down his back making him growl quietly and bury his cock even deeper inside you. He happens to glance down and he can see how deep he’s buried inside of you by the little bulge in your tummy where the tip of his cock scrubs against it on the inside. “Jesus, fuck.. Soooo good, baby, you feel so good. Tight.” he’s fighting to keep from coming undone, harder than he’s fought any other time, you fit so well around him, it’s like you were made for him and him alone and this thought has him fucking into you a little faster, a lot deeper til he bottoms out.

He goes still, his lips buried in your neck, breathing heavily. Letting himself back away from the edge because his only real goal tonight is to make sure you get exactly what you want before he worries about his own pleasure. He wants to make sure you never want anybody else, he’s not going to settle for anything less than you being utterly ruined for other men moving onward. He has to have you all to himself.

“You feel too good, baby. Too good.” he explains in a hushed tone against your lips as he starts to fuck into you slow and deep, his hands gripping your hips tight enough that you have a feeling there will be handprints the next morning. “Tate, please let me…...” you’re whimpering, needy, desperate to let go but he seems to know when you’re close and he comes to an almost complete stop inside you, kissing the bridge of your nose or your neck and throat. 

He nuzzles against your ear, nipping at your earlobe. “C’mon, babe. It’s okay. I got ya. Let go for me.” he coaxes when he feels like you just can’t take much more and he knows he won’t last much longer either.

He can see a tear roll down your cheek because he’s been pushing you closer and closer to the brink only to pull you back for hours now so he drags his finger over it, stopping it in it’s tracks. Your orgasm smashes into you, leaving you limp and clumsy, melted against him and clinging to him. And the way you clamp down on him has him fighting off his own orgasm getting even more intense as he fucks you through your own, kissing you anywhere he can get his mouth on your body, he melts against you, your legs squeeze his waist to keep him buried deep inside you as the high of his own orgasm shatters through him, making him grip your hips and bite you on the mouth and neck as he rambles on and on about how perfect he fits inside you, the way you were made for him and only him, his forehead resting lazily against your own as he places a gentle but deep kiss on bruised and bitten lips.

“That was..” he breathes out against your mouth, you respond quietly, “Amazing.” and he chuckles, holding you tight against him as he responds through laughter, “If you think that’s somethin, babe… Give me a few hours. I’ll really show ya.”

“Oh you will, hm?” you’re teasing gently and his teeth tug at your lip as he slips his tongue into your mouth, “Mhm.. Did you really think I used all my best tricks right out of the gate, babe?” as he stares down at you, still in awe that this has happened between the two of you.

He comes away with one solid thought. You belong to him now. And he's going to do whatever he has to to make sure that it stays this way.

#90s/aughts!medstudent!tate langdon #tate langdon #tate langdon smut #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon fanfiction #tate langdon x fem!reader #tppkinktober2022 #tppkinktober22 #kinktober #kinktober 22 #kinktober 2022 #kinktober22 #kinktober2022 #<- minors absofuckinlutely not. a general warning for all my adult content. #-> please read all warnings before reading #<- female reader ; vague description (female parts) #-> if you wanna see more 90's med school non murder house tate please feel free to speak up i have.. ideas.

[ashes-writing]

m i n e | ahs murder house ; t.langdon

|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||

** graphics made by me courtesy of pinterest + google image search. The list of prompts provided so generously by sxcret-garden -huge thanks, y'all please go check them out. Also, this one is more spooky/fluffy than kinky.**

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 || conclusion.

Summary ;

--- (pt 3of 3 ) you switched schools, leaving LA for Maine. Tate let you go even though he didn't want to. But is it really over?. 90's/early aughts Med School Tate Langdon au. this one is for you bestie @tbmunson because without our talk this never would have come up and come out as well as it did.

Pairing ;

90's!CollegeGuy!MedStudent Tate Langdon x fem!reader

--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.

Warnings ;

--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, murder house and his og backstory doesn't exist + tate langdon is not a ghost, but a med. school student, tate with a bit of a possessive side, angsty beginning, kissing and a handsy makeout, a drunk jerk follows reader out of a bar and is really gross/creepy, Tate saves the day, swearing... There's not really anything sexual here, but this is part 3 of my little reader series Anatomy, which is an AU for an AU I wanna write soon called unholy. The banner is different because this is a whole other version of Tate Langdon, who is at least 22 here.

Taglist ;

--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my american horror story taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.

@krys-orion

@hajimaaaaaa

A heavy chill hung in the night air already as you hugged yourself  and hurried down the sidewalk and you’re mumbling every step of the way about small towns and their shitty parking situations. Because it’s a little after 10 pm, everything is starting to close for the night and the streets are nearly empty, save for a few people here and there. The emptier the streets get, the creepier it feels. It just doesn’t feel safe and this has you on edge. You’re just about to laugh at your own paranoia when the thought crosses your mind that while this is a small town, it’s not the one you grew up in. The one you left behind because of your ‘goals’.

,, It’ll never be home. I’m actually miserable and so home-sick it’s driving me crazy. Everything has felt wrong since I got here… To be fair, I didn't really want to leave in the first place... Things got too intense.. scary...” the thought comes and you shove it out again, focusing instead on the footfalls behind you. You stop at a corner two blocks away from campus to wait on the crosswalk and this is when you notice the guy who left the bar at the exact same time as you and you tense up all over.

He’d been kind of lurking near all night too, come to think of it. But because he never said anything to you and he didn’t try anything funny, you’d mostly ignored this. Until right now, this very second. Before you even realize it, you’ve managed to work yourself into a bit of a panic. The crosswalk signal lights up and you’ve never been more grateful to see it in your entire life. You rush across the street, digging around in the pocket of your leather jacket as you go, a frantic search for your keys and the mace canister you keep on your keychain because you’re not wasting any time in getting into your vehicle once you reach the lot you’ve parked it in.

The footfalls behind you are faster now, as if the guy from the bar is rushing to catch up to you. You manage to work up the nerve to glance back over your shoulder and your heart begins to beat like a runaway train when you see that the guy from the bar is catching up to you and he’s catching up to you faster than you like. In your distraction, someone stepping out of a diner and onto the sidewalk and just stopping there takes you by surprise and sadly, this is just enough for the guy from the bar to catch up to you. For a split second, you’re frozen in place. Blindsided by a scent so familiar, so comforting -and yet, one you know you can’t possibly be smelling right now, because the person it belongs to is back home. You left him behind to come here, try the whole college thing. 

The scent doesn’t disappear, it’s lingering so heavy you almost tap the person on the shoulder, but then panic takes over again as the drunk stops in front of you and immediately, right into your personal space.

“T-there y-you are, pretty.. Pretty girl.” he drawls as he steps in even closer. His hand is lingering close to your hip. You grimace as the alcohol and cigarette on his breath is enough to nauseate you and makes you shrink away as much as you can. You place a palm down against his hoodie with every intention to shove him back and haul ass away and this is what you attempt to do, shoving past the person standing frozen on the sidewalk. You catch a whiff of that familiar scent all over again, but fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing flight. You take off at a blind run, shoving through the few people who remain on the sidewalk between this street and the next one, ducking down an alley only to hear footfalls right behind you.

“Shit. Fuck. Shit.” you’re out of breath by the time you turn down the next block and the parking lot you parked your car in earlier on during the night comes into view across the street. You can hear the drunk guy shouting at you but you pretend you don’t, every fiber of your being is focused on getting to your car and praying to God that just this once it’ll crank the first time with no hesitation. You make a mad dash across the street, a car blowing it’s horn at you as it has to stop and let you cross. You don’t care, you’re just focused on getting to your car and back to your apartment on campus. Away from the scary little situation you find yourself caught up in presently.

You’re so closer to the fenced in parking lot now. You’re tired from all the running, almost out of breath.

Commotion behind you as you stop to take a few deep breaths just beside the gate to the fenced in parking lot your car is parked in, it draws your attention and you glance over. The drunk from the bar is in a shoving match with someone and the more you stare, the more that someone looks like Tate. The man you didn’t want to leave behind in L.A. . It’s such a strong resemblance from behind that you have to blink two or three times. You shake your head at yourself and tear your eyes off of the scene in front of you. 

The confrontation continues across the street at the corner and you make your way through the gate, glancing over now and then just to be sure that the drunk is still distracted.

The more you glance over, the more you find yourself thinking about Tate again. Wondering where he’s at, if he’s happy, what he’s doing right now. Missing him. Wishing that familiar scent you caught a whiff of just minutes ago was him and he was here somehow, because you know you’d feel so much safer.

 Between the panic you’re currently in, trying to flee the unwanted advances of a guy who might not have just been some harmless drunk who happened to be near you all night long and who happened to leave the bar at the exact same time as you and being hit with deja vu in the form of the scent of a lover you left behind, you’re a mess. You nearly drop the keys to your car at least twice as you try to get the key in the door to unlock it scrambling to pick up the keys.

“Get out. See the sights, they said.” you exhale, your breath is shaky. You’re just about to get into your car when you hear someone shout your name and tell you to wait. Your head shoots up and you’re staring across the road as Tate Langdon makes his way across, at least two cars blowing the horn to which he responds with a middle finger. 

You’re frozen in place. You blink at least three times and he doesn’t disappear. The adrenaline is wearing off and it’s being replaced by a stunned daze instead. Tate stops in front of you. “Forgot about me already?” he asks the question with a wounded pout, staring down at you intently. Stepping closer to you and removing all the space between your bodies. Melting into you as he buries his nose in the crown of your head. His hands are all over you before they settle on your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck, melting right back against him.

The shock is finally wearing off now. “T-tate?” you stammer out his name quietly and when you say it, he melts into you a little more, holding on a little tighter.

“It’s me.” Tate mumbles quietly, pulling away just enough so that he can look down at you.

“You’re the one who told me I was better off leaving… I…” you go quiet. Swallowing hard, fighting back tears. “I thought that meant we were done…”

“I can’t let you go. I can’t. Look, I tried, alright?” Tate’s hand settles against your neck and he crashes his mouth against yours. Your mouth falls open willingly and you’re clinging to him, whimpering into the deepening kiss when you feel his hand shift slightly, grabbing you by the throat to keep you in the kiss. His other hand catches in your hair, tangling up in it, tugging at it and before you can ask any of your remaining questions, you’re rubbing yourself against him, light-headed from a lack of oxygen but determined not to break the kiss because you’re afraid that the second you do, he’ll be gone and you’ll realize you imagined this somehow.

Tate is the one who breaks the kiss, doe eyes roam over you slowly. He chuckles and bites his lip. “Almost didn’t recognize ya with the wig and that outfit… Do I even wanna know why you’re dressed like that?” he’s nodding to the black and red/black plaid babydoll dress and the over the knee socks you’re wearing with combat boots and your favorite black leather jacket and a blonde wig.

“It is Halloween. I got dragged out to some stupid dive bar with my roommate, then she ditches me and goes off to fuck some random..” you’re pulling him closer to you by the belt loop on his jeans and you stare up at him, head tilted slightly. “H-how long can you stay?” you ask the question tentatively, because you’re terrified to hear the answer.

“I’m not leavin you again.” Tate mutters, pushing himself into you, putting your back against the brick wall near your car. You gulp and barely stop a whine from slipping out and he chuckles, grabbing you by the throat all over again, pulling you back into another deep kiss filled with longing as he uses his other hand to grab your thigh, raising your leg up to his hip. You wind up climbing into his arms, pinned between his body and the brick wall at your back. The kiss deepens and he gives just the slightest squeeze to your throat, pulling away so you can both breathe again, His hand remains in place as he mumbles into the kiss quietly, “You know you’re mine, right? And I love you. Wherever you are, I am.”

“Tate.. you were going to start that internship…”

“And I can do the same damn thing here. One good thing about that bitch I call a mother, she knows a lotta people.” he’s grinning as he says it and you study him intently, still trying to process having the only thing -or person, you’ve wanted back as he stands in front of you. For real, it’s not some daydream or some hallucination.

“You’re… You’re sure.” you ask, the bright grin already forming, making him grin with you. “This is the only thing I am sure about, kitten. Living without you has been hell, okay?”

You nod in agreement. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

“Got a room at this little bed and breakfast near campus because I’m supposed to meet somebody to tour tomorrow.” Tate chuckles, biting his lip as he locks eyes with you. “Wanna come back to it with me? Let me show you how much I missed you?”

You whimper as you nod your head yes at him, melted against him as close as you can get. "Please, Tate? Take me back to your room?"

#90s/aughts!medstudent!Tate Langdon au #tate langdon #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon fanfiction #tate langdon x fem!reader #-> please read all warnings before reading. #<- female character ; vague description (female parts + outflit link+ mentions of blonde wig for a costume.)