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nolovelingers · 9 months

Note

hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking

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SFW !!

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.

there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.

so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.

he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.

the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.

at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.

if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.

you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.

even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.

he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.

he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.

he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.

obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?

tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.

as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.

his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.

id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.

this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.

it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.

and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.

if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.

if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.

there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.

langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.

and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.

jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.

to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.

tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”

tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)

the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.

he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.

he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.

overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.

recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.

tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.

if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.

of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.

as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.

his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.

he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.

NSFW !!

tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.

he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.

(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.

(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.

(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.

he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.

when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.

he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.

but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

2K notes · View notes

emmalandry · 7 months

Text

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟙𝟝 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕪 ℍ𝕦𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕓𝕝𝕖༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

Waking up to tate grinding softly against your plump ass. His hard on gliding against the soft flesh as he whimpers in his sleep. You reach your hand behind you and lightly shake him "Tate, Honey, wake up."

His eyes flutter open and flash down to notice his cock humping against your thigh. "I-i'm sorry baby. My cocks just so hard it hurts." his voice is stuttery and the poor boy is just so embarrassed :(

But you make sure to reassure him that it's okay. "It's okay baby, just keep going, make yourself feel good." His voice is soft as he mutters out broken thank yous and I love yous.

It doesn't take long for him to finish at the feeling of your soft flesh and his pj pants rubbing his cock just right.

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆*⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆ .* ⚘ ⋆

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 2 months

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i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

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frankenkyle19 · 5 months

Text

I Bet I Could Scare You

Word count: 3k

Tate Langdon x reader smut

description/warnings: smut with little plot, fingering (barely), handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Emotional Tate because he’s a psycho 24/7 and I think that’s it. This is based off a recent dream I had. Oh also barely proofread so there’s probably (definitely) mistakes.

You had a long time fascination with the infamous Murder House. You couldn’t help it! Curious beyond belief about what the walls held inside, you had been planning ways to get into it for weeks now. It was currently sitting abandoned, a few window panes broken and Ivy beginning to grow over the bricks, trailing across it in waves of green. It looked absolutely beautiful, an aura of mystery and danger seemed to surround the place, but it just intrigued you more. What was that saying? Oh right. Curiosity killed the cat.

Curious by nature, you couldn’t just not explore the house, having started with scoping out the perimeter, looking out for other people as you adventured around the side, finding your way into the backyard and exploring further. There was a beautiful gazebo set up in the backyard but as pretty as it was, the second you approached it, you felt an unexplainable sorrow, something that burrowed deep into your bones and left an ache in your chest.

When you finally built up the nerve, you went inside. Stepping over the threshold of the door, a chill settled against you as you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm.

That day you didn’t stay long, not even venturing upstairs to see what was hidden up there. You also didn’t go into the basement either. You left after only looking around on the ground floor, hearing what sounded like a whistle down the hall and practically running back out the door, not looking back.

That was until curiosity got the better of you. You found yourself standing in the doorway once more before stepping inside, hands clenched tightly at your sides.

Today was the day you’d finally explore the rest of the house. Deciding that upstairs was probably less creepy of a start than the basement, you made your way up the stairs that creaked with each step. You winced at each minute sound, practically holding your breath as you finally reached the top steps.

You wiped the cold sweat that had formed on your brow before continuing. Each door was thankfully open so you could see inside without having to open them individually. This was a beautiful house, and from the looks of it, the previous owners had just… abandoned everything and left. Weird, but you’d have to question that later. Maybe they died here? The question lingered in the back of your mind but you didn’t focus on it for too long when you heard shifting and what sounded like footsteps downstairs.

Had someone followed you in?

Swallowing hard, you peeked down the staircase, seeing what appeared to be just the outline of a man. He didn’t appear threatening, but of course you had no real clue. He seemed to be dressed in an oversized sweater and ripped jeans. He had dirty blond hair and honestly seemed to be around your age. Was he some dumb boy who had seen you wander in here and decided to follow you to either scare you or… perhaps do something worse?

Against your better judgment you began to creep down the large staircase, following the man just out of sight. You felt a need to keep your eyes on him. Like he’d disappear if you so much as blinked. The longer you followed him around the abandoned house, the more you realized that this was quite literally the dumbest thing you’d ever done. How everyone died in horror movies. Jesus, how stupid could you be?

Finally, you saw him walk to the entrance of the basement and go down the steps. That was it. You were not going down there. You made your way to the top of the stairs and looked down into unending darkness, trying to squint your eyes to see into it with no luck. You turned around to finally get out of there when you crashed into the chest of someone. A man. The man you’d been following for the past ten minutes.

His chocolatey brown eyes met yours with a softness you hadn’t expected from them. No matter, you let out a shrill scream, backing up away from the boy before nearly falling down the basement steps. In fact you would have fallen down them and probably broken your neck if he hadn’t reached out a hand to catch you. His hand was cold to the touch as it wrapped around your wrist and you noticed just how pale he was in comparison. A ghostly white..

He used his free hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist to cover your mouth to stop the scream that bubbled up from your throat. The noise died in your throat as you looked at him with a mix of shock and absolute fear. There was literally no one else here, this man could easily kill you if he wanted to.

You blinked a few times, trying to steady your breathing as he carefully tugged you away from the stairs to safety before letting go of you all together, giving you space.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, tone accusatory as he furrowed his brows in a gentle manner.

“I could ask you the same thing-“ You replied, raising a brow as a frown settled on your features.

The boy opened his mouth to speak before pausing. Telling you wouldn’t prove to be easy, and you may even laugh at him in disbelief.

“I live around here-“ He lied. Well… was it really a lie if he had lived here? In this very house? Years ago..

“My name’s Tate.” He continued, looking at you expectantly as if this was some sort of normal, everyday interaction.

You told him your name, against better judgment, feeling drawn to him in an odd, messed up way. There was a sort of darkness in him. One similar to what lived inside of you.

“Pretty.” He said offhandedly, seeming completely unbothered by the whole entire situation. What a strange being he was..

You shrugged at his comment, rolling your eyes a bit. If he was trying to flirt with you, it definitely wasn’t going to work. You didn’t get the hots for random people that followed you into an abandoned house… Despite how.. Cute they might be.

Part of you questioned how exactly Tate appeared behind you so fast despite having seen him just walk down the steps in front of you. It sat in the back of your brain and you knew something about it all wasn’t right. The only problem was Tate was so charming you didn’t want to believe anything was wrong. You just wanted to stay blissfully oblivious for as long as possible.

And that’s exactly what you did. Over the coming weeks you and Tate grew closer, much to your surprise, and despite having a suspicion that he wasn’t exactly who he said he was, you decided to ignore it for now and just enjoy having him around.

You knew something was up when he said he could only meet in the house. Not around the neighborhood or anywhere else. You knew then… You knew it but you didn’t want to face the fact that maybe the person you were talking to wasn’t exactly… Alive.

It was a hard concept to grasp at first, I mean.. One of your only friends just so happened to be a ghost? How does one just go about their life after learning that kind of information? You’d always believed in ghosts but you never knew they could be so… real. So apparent and able to communicate with you..

Today when you walked into the murder house, something was different. It was as if the spirits that resided there now knew what you had discovered about them, and they didn’t seem too happy about it.

Suspiciously you couldn’t find Tate. He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen like usual when the two of you would meet up and some searching around the house left you empty handed. It was as if he disappeared.

With your only other option being the basement you made your way to the steps, swallowing back your anxiety as you tried to control your breathing. You stared down into the nothingness once more and just contemplated on if you should walk out of the house and never come back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow.

You took a step towards the first stair when you paused, feeling a presence behind you. Without turning around you knew exactly who it was.

You felt breathing against your neck and a cold hand brush against your own. He didn’t say anything, just stayed like that, waiting for you to speak.

“T-Tate?” You whispered, shivering at the feeling of him breathing down your neck. You were a bit uncomfortable but only because he was acting so different from his usual self.

“You know.” Was all he said, tone almost sounding hurt as he pulled away just a bit to cut all contact with your body.

Whipping around, you made eye contact with the boy, his own eyes dark and filled with a sort of sadness that you didn’t quite understand. A longing and a disappointment.

Your stomach dropped at his words. You know. About him being a ghost? Well, that was true. But how did he know? Had you been that obvious?

You nodded slowly, never once breaking contact with his eyes, yours staring into his soul. “Mhm, I do.. I-“ You were at a loss for words, what exactly was there to say because you were completely stumped.

“How?” Tate asked. You didn’t like how he used very few words, compared to his talkative self that could never seem to shut up. This Tate was different, darker.

“I figured it out- it wasn’t- that hard.” You said, fidgeting with your hands nervously

“You’re always so cold, you won’t meet me anywhere besides this house? The way you appeared behind me at the top of the stairs that first day I met you? I put it all together, Tate.”

Tate nodded, contemplating what to say.

“You’re smarter than I thought.”

You weren’t sure if you should take that as a compliment or an insult, because it sure sounded like the latter.

“Thanks,” you replied, snarky. Your breathing had luckily calmed but the second he took a step forward it sped up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“I bet I could scare you.” He took another step towards you.

What exactly did he mean by that?

You stood your ground as he towered over you, bodies almost flush against each other as you slowly looked up and met his eyes once more.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his, kissing you softly. Despite the ghostly chill that rolled off of him, his lips were surprisingly warm and soft against your own and you found yourself closing your eyes and kissing back.

Tate deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he gently ran his thumb down the small of your back, reveling in the way you arched away from the feeling closer to his chest.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” Tate whispered, leaning down and peppering kisses against your neck

A quiet moan slipped past your lips as you felt him gently grind his hips against you, the beginnings of a hard on definitely felt even through all your layers of clothing.

You cursed under your breath as you pulled Tate up for another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip which caused him to whine softly. Were you really going to do this? Sleep with a ghost? The answer was hell yes.

You two tugged at each other's clothes as the kisses intensified tenfold, each trying to pull the other to the couch.

You pushed Tate back against the couch before climbing onto his lap, kissing him eagerly as your hands roamed his clothed chest.

Tate’s hands wrapped around to grip at your ass, pulling you closer to him as he arched up into you, rubbing his clothed erection against your already soaked pants.

He managed to get your shirt up and off of you before working on your bra, and much to your surprise he actually managed to get it off with little struggle. Hm. So not his first time, okay. You’d keep that in mind.

You then struggled to get his shirt up and off him before tossing it onto the floor, hands coming to run across his now bare chest, reveling in the way his muscles moved against your hands.

Tate flipped the two of you over, getting on top of you and beginning to shimmy your pants down your legs and off your body, eyes widening at the wet spot in your panties.

“Are you a virgin?” He asked, panting as he fumbled with his belt before pulling it off and managing to get his jeans halfway down his thighs.

You furrowed your brows a bit. What an odd question..?

“Uh- no? Are you?” You decided to ask, but from the way he acted you presumed he wasn’t.

And just like you had expected Tate shook his head no, pulling you closer as he ripped your panties off in one harsh tug.

The fabric ripped from your skin hard, leaving a mark but you were too desperate to even worry about it at the moment.

“No I’m not you’re just- so wet-“ He panted, using his middle and first finger to part your folds, reveling in the way your slick coated his fingers.

“Well of course I am-“ you chuckled. Was he not familiar with how the female body worked? Maybe not.

You moaned softly as he thrust one finger into you, your home greedily sucking him in, to the knuckle and when he curled his finger upwards just the slightest bit, you were arching into the touch, desperate pleas leaving your lips for more. More more more.

Tate chuckled, shaking his head “patience.” Yeah okay, screw that.

You pulled him down for another kiss as you dragged his boxers off of him, taking him into your hand and slowly stroking him to full hardness.

A quiet whine slipped from his lips as he pulled away just enough from your lips to make eye contact with you, urging his hips forward until his tip slid across your entrance, collecting some of your slick.

“Patience, remember?” You teased, brow raised as you chuckled softly, helping to guide him to your entrance before he pushed into you.

The slight pain from him stretching you out was a welcomed feeling which soon faded and turned into pleasure. He filled you up perfectly and you were able to feel each and every ride and bump of his cock.

Tate gripped onto your shoulders as he gave an experimental thrust, looking you over to make sure you weren’t in any pain.

“N-not hurting you, am I?” He asked, swallowing hard as he looked between the two of you, watching as your hole greedily swallowed his cock.

You gently cupped his cheek, pulling him down closer to you. You felt his hot breath against your cheek as he leaned into your palm.

“No, Tate. Feels so good- you feel so fucking good inside me, baby.” You groaned out and this seemed to trigger something inside of him because he steadied himself once more before pulling almost all the way out and slamming himself back in, balls slapping against your skin as he hit a spot inside you that made you seize up.

He seemed to like this reaction out of you because he did it again and again and again. Each time the air was knocked out of your lungs and you kept making pathetic little whines as he fucked you.

“‘Mine,” He growled as he thrust into you “All mine.” His tone was harsh but also a sense of desperation was hidden inside it as well.

Your bodies rocked against each other, the air around you thick with the scent of sex and surely the other ghosts were not very happy with the two of you, but you couldn’t care less right now, you just knew you never wanted Tate to stop fucking you.

You clutched onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks that would soon disappear thanks to him being a ghost. Much to your dismay though. You’d love to see him all marked up.

Tate’s thrusts became uneven quite quickly as his body trembled, his eyes giving you a look that said more than any words could. He was close.

You reached down and circled your clit with your fingers, arching up and pushing his cock deeper inside you, practically hitting your service and a twinge of pain spiked through you, a shock to your senses but it also seemed to intensify the pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck- Tate I’m close-“ You groaned out, your hips rocking against each others as he pounded into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he cried out, biting down onto your shoulder to conceal his grunts and groans.

You felt warmth burst inside you and by the way Tate froze, bucking weakly a few more times before nearly collapsing on you, you knew he had come. The feeling of his warmth filling you and how he replaced your fingers with his own, circling your clit roughly, you came, squeezing around him and milking him for all he had.

Tate gasped, wincing a bit at the over sensitivity that took hold of him in mere seconds after his release.

He pulled out of you and he panted before collapsing next to you on the couch, chest rising and falling heavily.

You pulled him into your arms, peppering kisses across his face as the two of you came down from your high.

A quiet chuckle bubbled up your throat until you could contain it no longer and begin to laugh almost hysterically, causing Tate to look at you, concerned.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked. Surely you weren’t laughing at him?

“I just-“ You tried to say through your fits of laughter.

“I just had sex with a ghost.” You laughed, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Tate gave you a blank stare before nodding.

“Yup. Yeah you sure did.”

#evan peters #evan peters icons #american horror story #ahs fandom #tate langdon #tate langdon headcanon #tate langdon x reader #tate ahs #tate langdon smut #american horror murder house #murder house #ahs murder house

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