American Horror Story Murder House - Tumblr Posts

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

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

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

a/n i love you for indulging me <3

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anything?"

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

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

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

"You wanna be?"

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

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

----

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

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

ahs masterlist ᰔ .ᐟ

emma roberts

madison montgomery

dream girl

madison as your gf headcanons.

secretly dating

secret relationship with madison headcanons.

join us

zoe and madison arguing over who deserves to be with you.

sneaking around

when you and madison decide to take a shortcut home after sneaking out that involves crawling through a really tight hole in a fence, and you end up getting stuck.

gf!madison drabble

short drabble.

"i love you"

madison wanting affirmation of how much you love her.

taissa farmiga

zoe benson

join us

zoe and madison arguing over who deserves to be with you.

evan peters

tate langdon

meant to be

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

other

xoxo, lisboncy ֶָ֢

meant to be ᰔ .ᐟ

pairing ; tate langdon x f!reader

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

warnings ; none

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

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

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

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

you froze and stared at him in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"oh yeah?" he hummed, inching closer.

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

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

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

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

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

xoxo, lisboncy ֶָ֢

violet reading nana changed my brain chemistry

i need more active ahs moots <333

my fav seasons are coven and 1984 ! i write ahs characters esp madison montgomery and tate langdon !!! ive watched every season but s11 🤍🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

tate’s a needy boy

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

tags : dom!reader x sub!tate

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

enjoy 💋

Keep reading

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

prompt: love language

summary: tate langdon’s love language is physical touch

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

flufftober masterlist | @flufftober

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

okay hear me out

Tate Langdon submissive.

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

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

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

EVERYTHING'S OKAY

tate comforting you after one of your daily quickies

tate x reader

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

requested by anonymous

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

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

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

anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the cigarette of a smoker

the rubber band of the cash

the light to the match

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

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

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

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

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

CRYBABY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What was that?" you question shockingly.

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

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

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

"You can't?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did I say you can cum?"

"Fuck."

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

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

Life Saver

Tate Langdon x Reader

(Before Tate dies)

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

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

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

“Tate!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tate I said sit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes he does. Him and my mother.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are You Afraid Of Anything - Tate Langdon

Tate Langdon x Fem!reader

Warnings:  none

Word count:  584

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

American Horror Story Masterlist

~

Main Masterlist

by @chloe-skywalker​

* = Requested

Tate Langdon:

~ Are You Afraid Of Anything

~ 4am cuddles

~ Environments

~ Your A Ghost

~ Mulitple

~ Creepy

~ Crying

Creepy - Tate Langdon

Tate x Fem!reader

Warnings: none 

Word count: 105

Authors Note: Very short but I thought it was a cute short one.

Masterlist

AHS Masterlist

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“You know, I’ve told you many times watching me is creepy. I get your stuck in this huge and all but still.” Y/n said not even looking up at the boy in her room.

“Sorry.” Tate shuffled awkwardly.

“What's wrong?” Y/n asked looking at him when she heard his response. Very un Tate like.

“Do you care? I could just leave like you want.” Tate scoffed not believing that she really wanted to know.

“I said it’s creepy, I’m not heartless. What happened?” Y/n patted the spot beside her, inviting him to sit by her and tell her what was bothering him.

taglist: @padawancat97

in honor of me rewatching m*rder house, id like to announce that this account is NOT a safe space for ben harmon sympathizers !!

i’m rewatching murder house and i hadn’t noticed the ring before, this is so important to me

my toxic trait is loving some problematic and evil fictional characters

(not their actions)