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#Tate Langdon imagines
am3ricanh0rrorwh0re · 2 months
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To Hell and Back ☆
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tate langdon x fem!reader
summary: Tate, your obsessive boyfriend, traps you in the Murder House on Halloween
warnings: nsfw, bondage, gagging, asphyxiation, pills, death, manipulation
a/n: hello, hola, bonjour, marhaban !! this ‘oneshot’ will probably be longer than any other one i’ve written since there’s a lot that goes into it. I know Tate is a crowd favorite (and one of my favorites), so i wanted to make this as descriptive as possible! love you, love you, love you, and i hope you enjoy this oneshot <3
Spirits were real. You knew it for sure. Especially because your obsessive, clingy boyfriend was one. Tate Langdon. He’d been your friend since you moved to the infamous Murder House. You’d never see him leave the house, or come in. One day you had enough and confronted him. Tate hesitantly admitted he wasn’t alive, but you didn’t believe him. That was, until you saw how he died, and the events leading up to his passing…You knew Tate was dangerous, a man that could strike at any moment in time. He could kill you. But that’s what you were drawn to, right?
”Alright honey, we’re leaving. Don’t answer the door,” Your mom chuckled, clinging to your dad as they were both ready to head out to a halloween party.
“Joyce, don’t tell her that. It’s Halloween,” Your dad retorted to your mom. Your mother scoffed, ultimately starting a small debate with your father on the crime rate of LA, especially on Halloween. You crossed your arms, staring up the staircase of the house. A figure swooped by quickly, running across the hallway of the house. You stumbled back subtly, swearing on your life you just saw something move. You parents ignored you, of course. They didn’t much care for the paranormal bullshit rambles of their daughter.
Your parents finally headed out the door. ‘Finally. Some alone time without the constant bickering.’ you thought to yourself. You stood in the doorway of your bedroom, eyeing your walls with great care, wondering what you could do to spice up your boring-ass, half unpacked bedroom.
You felt a presence behind you. Something dark. Something malevolent. A black, latex hand grabbed your waist, the second hand going over your mouth. ‘oh shit. this is how it ends.’ you panicked. The figure pushed you against the wall, keeping its hand clasped over your mouth. It’s free hand pinned your wrists above your head. The figure was complete black latex from head to toe. You whimper into its hand, turning your head as you prepared for the kiss of death. It took its hands off of you and took off the black hood. It was Tate, your boyfriend.
“Hey, Y/n,” He smiled, grabbing your face as he pulled you into a kiss. The moment you saw him, your panic subsided. It was a shitty prank, sure, but it was just Tate. No extreme reason to worry.
“Tate,” You groan with a chuckle after pulling away from the kiss You noticed he was wearing a backpack for some reason. Maybe it had candy? “Why’re you wearing that shit?”
That ‘shit’ that Tate was wearing was an old sex suit that you found when your family first moved into the Murder House. It was sitting in the attic, along with a few other kinky things. Tate was currently rocking it, his toned figure showing out against the tight latex. You leaned into him as he kissed the side of your face.
“I dunno. Thought it was funny,” Tate smirked, ruffling your hair playfully. He pulled you into a hug, and you leaned into it. Tate’s hands made their way down your figure, grazing your back. His hands cupped your ass and squeezed a little, making you squeak softly.
You pushed him back with a smile, grabbing your flip phone. “I gotta head out, my friends invited me,” You smile, dodging past him slightly. Tate grabbed your wrist, a hurt look in his dark eyes.
“Woah, what? I thought we were gonna spend Halloween together..?” Tate asked, cocking his head with a feigned look of confusion on his face. There he goes again, manipulating you. You never once planned to spend Halloween with him. For months, you and your friends have planned on hanging out, and now Tate was manipulating you again.
“When did we agree to that?” You chuckle, slightly confused.
“Last week,” He lied, grabbing both your wrists and pulling you closer. “Don’t you remember, Y/n?”
You shook your head. Tate grabbed your shoulders, pushing you backwards into your room. He forced you down to your bed, pinning your wrists on either side of your head.
“C’mon, Tate,” You say nervously, looking up at him with furrowed brows. Tate straddled you, keeping your wrists pinned down.
“Y/n, you’re not going anywhere. You’re gonna spend Halloween with me, okay?” Tate said shakily. He threw his backpack off, setting it next to him. Tate sat on your stomach, pinning your wrists down with his knees. You struggled slightly, hoping to get away from him.
“Moira!” You call, hoping to get the attention of your housekeeper, Moira. She was a kind, caring soul, but also a bit cold. Luckily for you, she liked you more than she liked your family or any of the other ghosts in the house. Tate pulls out a red ball gag, shoving it into your mouth before securing it at the back of your head. He moved your hair, prodding you like you were one of those porcelain dolls.
“Shh..calm down, Y/n..” Tate cooed, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. You whimpered into the gag, looking up at him with scared eyes.
“Hey-! You know i won’t hurt you!” Tate said sternly, shaking your shoulder. He took your wrists and handcuffed them to the bars of your headboard. You watched him pace the room, looking through his backpack. Tate was nervous himself, but the scared look on your face make him feel even worse. Tate pulled a small pill bottle out of his bag. He rushed back over to you, holding the bottle.
Tate sat next to your bound body on the bed, cupping your cheek in his hand. His other hand held the pill bottle in front of you. “Y/n, Y/n, look. I need you to take these, okay?”
Tate pulled the gag out of your mouth so you could speak. You hyperventilated, looking up at the boy who was supposed to take care of you, supposed to love you. He took his hand off of your face and grabbed your throat, tightening his hand around it. He held your throat tightly and popped the cap off of the bottle.
“Tate, I don’t wanna..” You cry. Tate grabs your throat tighter, looking down at you with tears in his eyes.
“No, c’mon Y/n! If you take ‘em, we’ll be together forever, okay?” Tate spoke quickly, clearly in a panic. You shook your head, whimpering.
“Just open your fucking mouth,” Tate growled, pushing your jaw down with one latex hand while the other shoved two little white and blue pills into your mouth. He forced them down so far that you had no choice but to swallow them.
“Swallow…Swallow them, babe. Swallow them and we can be together,” Tate cooed as you coughed and cried, your tears soaking your face. Once you swallowed the pills, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
Tate wrapped his hands around your neck, closing them tightly. His fingers dug into your neck, closing your airways. You looked up at him, wide eyes as you gasped for the air that you’d never receive again after this moment. Tate looked at you, swallowing hard. His warm, salty tears fell onto your face. He was sobbing now, sobbing as his fingers tightened around your throat.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Y/n, but this was the only way…” Tate cried softly. His hands tightened as hard as they could. Harder and harder and harder until your airways snapped in your throat. Tate took his hands off your throat the moment he heard your airway collapse. He gasped, tears continuing to fall like a flood from his eyes Tate brushed his fingers over your eyelids, making sure they were closed.
“You’ll wake up in a few days, okay?” Tate sniffled, kissing your neck. He stroked your hair, kissing all over your neck and face as he cried. “I’m sorry..but we’ll be together now, okay…? You and me forever, Y/n..”
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calummss · 7 months
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Tate Langdon 1920s boyfriend headcanon
masterlist
a/n: he’s a little more submissive? or like the tiniest amount of ooc but like tbh i think it’s really believable. anyway not proof read!! it’s late at night and i have an exam tomorrow
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he would be head over heals for you like literally
y’all remember bugs bunny getting heart eyes over lola??? yeah that’s him
buys you different flowers for every day of the week
his hand is always around your waist
always placing a kiss somewhere on your face even when others thinks it’s too much pda—he doesn’t care
he thinks you look amazing every day but on parties it’s like he falls in love over again
he’s such a puppy so so loyal too you
‘tate, you coming on friday to the bar?’
‘i’ll ask my wife and get back to you.’
they all just stare at him but he‘s looking at you in a crowd with a smile
or him dancing with you when most women aren’t bc they’re boyfriends/hisbands think dancing is overrated…
carrying your gloves and hat aswell as bag!!!
i literally fell to my knees
when you get bored you two find a bathroom and he drags his tongue up your chest looking at you with those big hazel doe eyes,, loving that he pleases you
lights your cigarette!!
holds his hand over your head when you get in and out of the car
the classic 1920s couple run through the rain holding your bag and newspaper over your head as you try to escape the sky
my favourite scenario; sitting on his lap. his hand stroking your thighs as you take a drag from your cigarette letting him inhale from yours as he stares at you, your smoke entangling in the thick air of a jazz club
and finally, surprising him with a flapper dance choreography at your go to club. he cannot take his eyes off you and has men telling him how lucky he is
trust me…after that little dance your dress is gonna end up on the floor as soon as you two are alone
he worships you like a god, taking good care of every part of you making you realise how lucky you are to have him
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vintage-marina · 2 years
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"I know what you did."
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summary: you found out what he's done
f!reader, but it isn't really specified
angst
TW: SA, school shooting basically everything what Tate did, fighting, screaming
words: 1103
@dreamsweetener
"He," pausing for a second you looked at Violet with a haunted expression. "He did what?"
With sad eyes Violet looked at you, the two of you standing in the guest room. Her foot was constantly tapping on the ground, her hands clammy. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N."
She took a step forwards, she noticed the silent tears on your cheeks. Blewing out the air of your lungs you tried to calm yourself, a small sob left your body and before Violet could prepare herself you threw yourself in her arms.
"I should've told you earlier," she mumbled. Her chin was leaning on your shoulder, both you and Violet were holding eachother for 'dear life'.
"It's not your fault." reassuring her you stared blankly at the wooden closet. "I'm glad you told me although it's a bit late."
The both of you fell still, knowing that in the silence the both of you still held eachother dearly. The gears in your brain started working, with each passing second you became more and more angry at Tate.
"I think I have to talk to him, Vi." Slowly you let go of her, unclasping your hands from her vest.
"What are you going to say to him?"
"I," you wiped a few tears away. "Don't know."
"Don't do anything stupid, okay? Pinky promise me."
"I promise," the both of you hold out your pinkies and clasped them together.
Taking some deep breaths you left the room, anger following in your trails. Your heavy footsteps echoed through the house while your breathing was ragged.
You had to find him.
With an agressive swing you opened the door, to his old bedroom (that was now yours). The room was clattered with your clothing and make-up, your walls decorated with pictures and posters, but the room was empty. Letting out a huff of frustration, you slammed the door shut.
Realisation dawned on you that he probably knew what Violet had said, he must have hid himself. A few curse words left your lips and you pulled your hand over your face in frustration.
What the hell, Tate.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You have to be calm if you want to confront him, why did he have to shatter your heart like that? Slowly you opened your bedroomdoor again and stepped in your room, when you closed it you let your head hung on the door. A deep sigh escaped your lips and a soft sob followed through.
A deep sadness clung in your chest.
You slid down on the ground, your mascara was smeared on your cheeks and with shaky hands you tried to wipe the tears away. For a long, long time you sat like this.
Zoned out, you stared ahead of you.
Headache already forming.
"Tate?" You called out with a hoarse voice. "Please I-we need to talk."
Ignoring your call, Tate tugged at his hair while he mumbled inchorent things. Tears streamed on his cheeks and he sunk on his knees, you were going to leave him.
"Tate!" He heard you crying out, his dead heart shattered at the voice cracks. Why did Violet said something? At the thought of her name, a few more tears fell down.
Buring your head in your hands, your shoulders shook.
Was Vivien in pain during the act?
What did Tate say to his victims?
Were they in pain when they were murdered?
Is he going to hurt you too?
You were getting scared of him.
"Please don't leave me, Y/N," was all that you heard. You looked at him with tears in your eyes, his hair was all over the place and his eyes bright red from his cries. His hand tried to reach out for you and he walked towards you, trying to pull himself in your embrace.
His way to calm himself.
"Stay back," you said with all the strength you could muster. You couldn't trust him anymore. "What?" His face was full of disbelief, more tears brimmed up at the edge of his brown eyes. "Why?" Voice small he stared at the ground, watching his teardrops fell on the wooden floor. What he thought to himself was true, you didn't want him anymore.
Quickly you scrambled up, your arms clung protectively against your midriff. "Why?" you said slowly almost in disbelief. "Why Tate?"
He nodded and a small "yeah" escaped his lips.
"I don't," you took a deep breath and wiped with your hand your tears away. "I know what you did."
"I didn't mean to!" He screamed in desperation, waving his hands erratically. "You have to trust me, Y/N!"
"But I don't Tate! I don't!" you screamed back at him, with half swollen eyes you looked mistrustful at him. "You-you probably don't even regret it," a coldness was in your eyes.
Locking his brown eyes with the cold eyes of yours, he got goosebumps. Anger and panick flowed in his veins and in one swift motion he held your wrist, "That's not true."
You held your mouth firmly, seeing the stormy haze in his eyes you shrunk away. Violet hopefully was nearby, incase things went south. The storm was getting darker and darker and in frustration he screamed: "That not true! You know that's not who I am!"
Tears were still flowing on his cheeks and he shook at you, while his grip was getting stronger and stronger. Flinching you tried pulling your wrist out of his hand, "Let me go Tate," you mumbled voice barely a whisper.
But he didn't, he didn't let you go.
A grunt of pain escaped your mouth and your lungs went wheezing after the impact your back had on the wall. His hands were now on your shoulders and he sobbed in despair that he did regret it and that you shouldn't leave him.
Your head was trobbing and you whispered tearfully: "I don't know you anymore, Tate."
Brown eyes widening, he realised something that you didn't know. He knew you were afraid of him, "You know," his voice cracking slightly while his trembling hand cupped your cheek. Noticing the hitch in your breath, he saw you were trembling too. "I would never hurt you, ever."
You fluttered your eyes, closing only for a moment. Shaking off his hand of your cheek you embraced him while your heart was thundering in your ears. The blond boy melted in your arms and before he could pull you even tighter you whispered at the shell of his ear: "You just did."
"What?" He said again, he began sniffling. "When?"
You shook your head and your hand grapsed the doorknob, "You don't even realise it."
He watched in defeat when you walked out of the door, he didn't follow you. When he saw you leaving the ground out of the window, he curled himself up in a ball and cried in frustration.
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fand0mh03 · 11 months
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What abt the Evans with a reader who gets like violently aggressive? And I mean like “I will cut you open and set a pack of wolves on you to eat your organs.” And then after their little fit of anger they say the most innocent thing like, “Thanks for listening!” Or, “Too much?” I just think that’ll be funny who quickly reader can change like that from a fucking hell spawn to the most innocent person alive 💀
The Evans with a hot-headed S/O
Hi love! This was a really fun request to write, and I hope I was able to encapture your idea well enough <3  I had way too much fun writing this lol
Tate Langdon:
He’s afraid of you. Point blank, period, terrified
Like yeah your his significant other, but he’s fucking scared to get you mad
“Tate, do that again and I will rip out your organs from your ass and feed them to your mother”
This will make everyone stop in their tracks and just stare at you
Tate will stop doing whatever he’s doing to piss you off or annoy you, and will apologize and take a few steps back
You’d go back to reading your magazine and just look up when it goes quiet and just say “what?”
You’re not aware of how hot-headed you really are. At all
You get really peeved if Tate does something repetitive to you, like copying you, or tickling you
When Tate tickles you, you’ll giggle at first and tell him to stop once. Second time you’ll tell him to stop again. However, the third time is when you get angry
“Tate stop fucking tickling me, I swear to god I will put you in a crawlspace and leave you there for all of eternity”
He pauses and just stares at you
“Too much?”
He thinks its funny when it’s not directed at him
Kit Walker:
He tries to calm you down a lot of the times
Most of the time it’s not in an angry manner, but like an annoyed tone if that makes sense?
“Kit, I swear to god, if you don’t fucking get to bed right now, I will drug you and force you to sleep”
He stares at you before smiling and laughing, in shock from how aggressive you have gotten for no reason at all
He listens to you, because who wouldn’t when they’re being threatened?
Oh god, when Jude comes in the house and hits one of the kids as a punishment for something- you two see red
“Fuck that, get the fuck out of my sight before I pull your eyes out and feed them to you!”
Kit stops and motions to the children, who stare at you in confusion. You nod and let him deal with it, comforting the children who had just gotten hit
He usually has to deal with things because you will get angry and will threaten them, especially if they say or do anything towards kit and your kids
Kyle Spencer:
It’s never directed at him, but always at the other members of kappa gamma
Kyle will complain to you about something the other one is doing, but you will see that as a reason to scare the others into making them stop whatever their doing
“I heard what you said to Kyle. Say that again, and I will tear you apart, limb from limb, and make it look like a bear attack. Do you understand?”
They usually laugh, thinking your joking, until you continue to glare at them, then their laughter dies down and they usually nod and walk away, never doing it again
Kyle has 0 idea. He just thinks they realized how annoying they were being
“Y/N they stopped!” He would say excitedly to you, as you act shocked and congratulate him
Jimmy Darling:
Sometimes it’s directed at him, but mostly when he’s drunk
“Jimmy stop fucking drinking, one of these days I will call the townspeople on you, motherfucker”
He stops throwing up and just stares at you “What”
“Jimmy if you don’t stop drinking, I am going to actually swallow a bunch of Advil and fucking end it all”
“OH MY GOD-WHAT?!”
Afterwards once he’s sobered up, you just look at him, smile and say “thanks for listening”
And leave him there, confused, scared, and slightly concerned
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lcthebtswriter · 1 year
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fireside
pairing: tate langdon x female reader
summary: drawing tate comes with more pros than cons
tags: @korvenx, @sarahpaulsonldn-blog (I think this is @sarapaulsonlov3r lmk), @yeahokcas
warning: underage drinking
a/n: if you want to be added to a tag list, just send me your username and check the fandoms I write for to be tagged whenever I write for them
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The backyard of your house is bigger than Tate's, and he enjoys throwing class notes into the bon fire you've made.
Ashes twirl up into the air, burning orange and flickering out the higher they get. It's the weekend, so neither of you have a care in the world. You've swiped vodka from your mother's alcohol cabinet with the intention of filling the remains with water. Tate has consumed most of its contents, which is fine because he's a better model when he's drunk. Although it's something you don't like admitting, Tate is better when he's intoxicated. His racing thoughts slow like molasses and it allows you to capture him in the way you've always imagined.
He stares into the fire, skin glowing orange from the flames as your pencil races across the paper. You know you don't have time to capture some of his features since he fidgets so much. Tate is aware of your pencil and sketch pad; it's become a common accessory in your company. He's grown accustomed to the sound of lead scratching on paper. He's also grown used to having to sit still. If it weren't for you, the habit would have fled him a long time ago.
Tate does his best to keep his focus on the fire before him. Its embers burn hot against the stones of the fire pit it's encapsulated in. He tries to keep his head still so it's easier for you to draw. Tate doesn't know how far along you've gotten in your sketch, but you've pulled out the water colors from your shoulder bag and used a water bottle to fill its multitude of colors. The scratching of paint brushes can be heard over the popping flames, and Tate can get an idea of how far along you've gotten.
"You almost done?" He asks, not intending to sound so short.
Your mindless watercoloring ceases.
"No, but I can stop if it's bothering you, baby," you say.
Unbeknownst to you, Tate likes being the center of attention. He eagerly awaits the opportunity to be your model, your muse. If there's anyone he'd let stare at him for a set amount of time, it's you. Out of all the people in the world, he feels like you see him in a more honest way than anyone he knows. Those on the outside have convinced themselves of one thing, while you view Tate as the most honest version of himself. He loves that about you. Not only do you take things at face value, but the more you study the more you learn and accept.
"You're not bothering me," Tate argues. He turns his gaze from the crackling flames, vodka bottle between his legs and the chilled glass bringing him back to reality.
You offer a smile, hovering your paint brush over the sketch pad in your lap. It isn't easy capturing his complexion in such poor lighting, but you've managed. He's practically glowing, and you don't want to mess up the opportunity that has presented itself. Watercolor is a bit out of your orbit, but it's not like you can bring all of your art supplies outside without waking your parents.
"Go on," Tate insists. He's smiling, bringing the bottle of alcohol to his lips as the fire roars on. Earlier, he had piled so many logs that you're sure the flames will persist throughout the night. You don't mind, though. You're just glad Tate is willing to leave his room, the drugs, and the racing thoughts in his head to entertain you for the night. Sometimes it's hard to get through to him, but you cherish the nights where he's willing to do what you want to.
So you carry on. The sketch doesn't last long. You can tell by the way Tate is bouncing his leg on the soggy grass that he doesn't intend to sit still much longer. You scramble to finish your painting, careful not to smudge whatever pencil lines you've made.
Your head is swimming from exhaustion and intoxication by the time you're finished. Tate has entertained himself by tossing leaves into the fire and watching them shrivel up into ash. You're please by the sketch you've made in such poor lighting. Finally, you're comfortable enough to turn the sketch to Tate for his approval.
Silently, Tate turns his eyes toward the paper. It's him - definitely. His jaw is more pronounced than he thinks it is. The oranges, yellows, and browns meld together to encapture his figure. Whatever darkness surrounds his painting is relatable to your vision of him. He's eager to share his approval, but he doesn't want to come off as too nice. Tate hates overly enthusiastic people, but he also wants to show his appreciation.
"You're so talented," he settles. "You really should go to college for this shit. You could be a comic book artist or something," Tate says. His smile is genuine, and it makes you blush as you turn the sketch back to yourself.
You shrug and say, "Maybe."
Tate leans toward you in his arm chair, bottle of vodka long past dilution as its remaining contents slosh about.
"I'm serious. I love watching you draw. You're really talented, honestly." Tate says as he puts his hand to his heart.
You can't help but kiss him, feeling the warmth of his lips and melting at the tingling sensation it springs forth. Tate pulls away after you, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clutches the bottle in his hands.
He's happy to admit that he's aware of the subject of most of your sketches. Ever since you started dating, Tate has known how much you draw him. He likes seeing himself in another person's eyes; a softer side of his being.
Sometimes he can't justify the space he takes up, but he finds comfort in knowing you see him for more than he is.
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chloe-skywalker · 1 year
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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
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Imagine Tate Langdon appreciating your dark side.
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Tate Langdon was the stuff of edgy-teenage daydreams - a ghost, so he couldn’t exactly leave you, quite cute, a dark side, and completely and totally psychotic. No wonder why you fell in deep.
You were that stereotype - dark painted nails, dark dyed hair, music that made no sense at all to your parents, t-shirts with band names that just looked like scribbles and a guitar of your own which you used to play your own moody stuff. That’s what usually brought Tate out - your music, for it was something that you had in common. On this day, you were feeling particularly ticked off because your parents grounded you for fighting in school, so the mood today, the musical theme, was aggression.
“Whoa, what happened to your face?” Tate appeared beside you, his fingertips lightly grazing where your opponent had gotten a couple of good jabs in. He was so gentle with you, sitting beside you on your bed. “You should get some ice on that.”
“Can’t,” You groaned. “Mom used it all to keep her heart so fucking cold. Seriously, one fight. We’ve been here two months and I’ve only been in one fight, she should actually be proud of me. I find reasons for one every day but I gotta be the better person. She doesn’t appreciate shit.”
A large grin took over Tate’s face at your attitude. Your anger towards your parents always amused him. The suburbia goody-two-shoes couple who projected out into the world that everything was perfect while you made sure to burn that reputation down to the ground.
“So what are you going to do about it?” He asked. Which made you think. It wasn’t a question that was often posed. Your parents asked how you were going to make it up to them, but that was an entirely different question. You shrugged. “Could always poison them,” He suggested, his legs swinging back and forth.
“Hmmm - poison is hard to buy these days,” You reasoned. “Also I don’t want to go into the foster system, I’d probably end up with something worse, and I’d end up being taken away from you.”
“Fair, fair, don’t do that,” Tate shook his head quickly. “You could just - enjoy your grounding and stay here with me?”
You thought that over for a moment too. You supposed he had a point. He was here. You weren’t entirely cut off. “But what are we going to do?” You asked in return.
Now it was his turn to think. Then he’d flick your guitar. “Put on a concert loud enough that they’ll regret grounding you.”
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tatestripedsweater · 2 years
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Tate’s Favourite Halloween Films
Requested By: Anon
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The Shining
Scream - Didn’t like the newer ones, thinks Sidney’s hot.
Nightmare On Elm Street
The Evil Dead
Hellraiser
Paranormal Activity - Only so he can make fun of the film.
Carrie
Saw
Cannibal Holocaust
American Horror Story Taglist:
@mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs @kitwalker02 @satanscomplex @mossybank @cleanup-aisle5 @milly-louise @maria-akira @slightlyvicked @blackbat2020 @kmt123whatsthetea @peterskindacool @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @americxn @sallyscigarettes @liandav @ikkleroniekins @fictional-people-that-i-stan @latertate-r @lovegallant @pogueslandia @greenduvet @danowh0re @hhxwalls @mrslizzyolsen @ahfarmiga
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evanchantingpeters · 6 months
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All my feminism goes out the window when I lay eyes on this man... Uff😬
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am3ricanh0rrorwh0re · 19 days
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Alive For The Night ☆
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tate langdon x fem!reader
summary: your clingy boyfriend Tate takes you on a late night beach date on halloween
warnings: none
a/n: here’s a post as an apology for starving you all 💞
The waves whispered against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that serenaded you two as you walked hand in hand along the moonlit beach. The air was cool, salty, and alive with the fragrance of the ocean. It was the perfect night for a rendezvous, away from the prying eyes of the world and of the Murder House’s infamous ghostly residents.
Tate stole a glance at you, the soft glow of the moon illuminating your features, casting a halo around your silhouette. You were beautiful to him, ethereal even, your eyes reflecting the shimmering stars above. He couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in his chest, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. Not since he was alive….
"So, why the sudden urge for a late-night beach date, Tate? On Halloween no less…planning to kill me?” you asked, your voice a melodic harmony in the tranquil night.
Tate shrugged, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes like a flickering star. "Just felt like it, you know? Sometimes you gotta seize the moment, live a little."
You chuckled softly, leaning into him as you two continued your leisurely stroll. "I like that about you, Tate. Always spontaneous."
You guys walked in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the gentle crashing of waves against the shore. Tate couldn't help but marvel at the serenity of it all, the way the moonlight danced on the water, painting everything in shades of silver and blue.
As they reached the water's edge, Tate kicked off his shoes and rolled up his jeans, the cold water sending shivers up his spine. He turned to you with a playful grin, his brown eyes shining in the moonlight. "You coming in, or are you too chicken?"
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, you're on, Langdon."
With that, you kicked off your own shoes and waded into the water, squealing as the cold water enveloped your ankles. Tate laughed, splashing her playfully as you retaliated with her own waves.
For a while, you forgot about everything else, lost in the simple joy of each other's company. The couple chased each other along the shore, the laughter of youth echoing in the night.
Eventually, you grew tired, collapsing onto the sand in a heap of laughter and exhaustion. Tate lay on his back, the sand cool against his skin, as he stared up at the night sky along with you beside him.
"You know," you said, your voice soft and contemplative, "I never thought I'd find happiness again after everything that's happened. But with you, Tate, it's like… I don't know, everything just falls into place."
Tate turned to you, his heart swelling with emotion. "You're not alone, you know. I've been lost for so long, but being with you… it feels like I've finally found my way home."
You lay there in silence, the sound of your breathing mingling with the gentle rustle of the breeze. In that moment, you two were infinite, two souls intertwined in the vast expanse of the universe.
As the night wore on, you watched as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon of the coast, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. It was a new beginning, a promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.
And as you walked back along the beach with him, hand in hand, Tate knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, as long as you two had each other, they could weather any storm or any apocalypse life threw your way.
taglist: @fear-is-truth , @dangeroustaintedflawed , @newwavesylviaplath @slutforgarlogan @nickrhodeslittledarling @coentinim @foreverlovestruck
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kaiscumsock · 9 months
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early 2000s evan peters <3
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yes-divine-ruler · 10 months
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(18+!!) ok wait so… It’s Halloween… you’re out with Tate… he can’t keep it together because your costume makes him horny.
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Tate holds your hand tightly as you both venture down the sidewalk. His costume is eerily familiar. He wears a long, black trench coat and his face had been painted in likeness to a skeleton. His blonde, usually curly, hair is slicked back out of his face. His grip on your hand tightens as you pass by other people your age, some shamelessly taking in the appearance of your revealing costume. Much to Tate’s annoyance, you insisted that Halloween was the one time of year you had an excuse to dress like you were begging for it. The delicate lace that decorates your cleavage distracts Tate more than once. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans just from lingering beside you. At times, he takes a moment to trail behind you to catch a glimpse of the mounded flesh of your ass cheeks from under your tiny skirt. You know what his game is, of course, and occasionally brush the back of your hand across the front of his jeans. Tate doesn’t take to it lightly, and after teasing him for the forth, and final, time, he has no choice but to trap you behind a big, oak tree in the park and bend you over. His fingers make quick work of your panties, tugging the thin, soaked piece of fabric down your long legs. Your ass jiggles around his hand as he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them upwards to press against your sweet spot. “Thought you could tease me and get away with it? In that little, slutty costume?” He mumbles huskily against the shell of your ear, tickling his nose with the freshly-washed hair on the side of your head. You smelt like vanilla, and a hint of coconut. A sweet and sensual scent that had Tate moaning softly against you. Tate spits, directly onto your needy cunt, using his fingertips to spread the saliva over your pulsing clit. “Tate, please, I need you inside me,” you plead, reaching around to grasp onto his throbbing cock, sure to be staining his boxers with smears of pre-cum. Tate unveils his rock-hard length, stroking it with a mix of your arousal and his saliva. He teases you, circling your entrance with the leaking tip of his cock. Caving to his own eagerness, it’s not long before Tate is stretching you out with his girth. Your fingernails dig into the flaking bark of the tree, trying your hardest to find the leverage you need to soften each ravaging thrust. Soft whimpers turn into loud, destitute moans. Tate’s hand wraps around your mouth to stop the ruckus you’re making in an attempt to shield you from the eyes of passer-byers. “That’s it baby, take my fucking cock. You love how it fills you to the fucking brim, don’t you?” Tate’s grip on you only get tighter as he slams into your poor, little cunt, using it to alleviate his painful desire for you. Stars appear behind your closed eyelids when Tate’s free hand slithers down between your body and the trunk of the tree to stimulate your swollen clit. “Uh fuck- can feel you squeezing tight around me, let up sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum,” Tate seethes behind clenched teeth, the lewd, squelching sounds each thrust pulls from your dripping cunt pushing you both a step towards release. It’s not long before the intense pleasure of Tate’s tip nudging against your sweet spot sends you over the edge. Tate holds you up as your orgasm washes over you in big, tremulous waves. Tate growls into your hair, a few last thrust just enough for him to let go inside of your clenching walls. When he pulls out, he’s quick to pull up your panties, rubbing over the cloth to make sure his cum stays with you. “You’re gonna walk around the rest of the night with these soaking wet panties. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint. You little tease.” He tucks himself away, and taking a hold of your hand again, he begins to pace down the sidewalk like nothing happened. Even though, you can barely stand on your two feet from how weak your legs are now.
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fand0mh03 · 11 months
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Hey love, being your fan (literally, your sense of humor is everything)), I have a request) Your headcanons for kai Anderson a mix of smut and romantic was so funny, can you do something like that for Tate? ❤️
Tate Langdon romantic and nsfw headcannons
Hi loves! Thank you for your kind words, and I’m sorry this took so long! I inserted a screenshot of the other request due to it being requested twice, I wanted to make sure that the other anon didn’t think I was ignoring them!
TW: a lot of sex, denial of orgasams, head, mentions of suicide
SFW
Listening to nirvana
Playing card games
Flipping through magazines and then switching with each other after you’re done reading them
He’s the little spoon. Prove me wrong
Protecting you from the ghosts of the house
I have a feeling violet wouldn’t be annoyed at you, at first at least, because she would warn you about Tate, telling you what he did, and advising for you to get out of the house
She would be annoyed and not care anymore when you stay anyways
She would low-key think you’re a dumb hoe
Anyways 
Tate would definitely confide in you about his mommy issues
I have a feeling you would hate constance because of what he tells you
He would always want you to play with his hair, allowing you to put tiny braids in it if you wanted to
He is very VERY clingy
This man would cling to you and not let go ever
He would always want to be touched by you, and would never want you to leave him for school or work
I think if the relationship becomes serious enough, you might kill yourself so you’re able to stay with him forever
I could see this going two ways
Either he would support you if that’s what you wanted, and wouldn’t have a problem with it
Or he would go into panic mode and tell you not to do it
I’m not sure, since with the thing with violet, but I feel like he’d be open to it if you wanted to?
He would watch you sleep
NSFW
Going to start this off with the obvious- Tate is a sub. Bro is a bottom if I have ever fucking seen one
He tries to deny it, and he does a good job at faking being all dominant and shit, until you come along, and then he bends at your will
Hair pulling kink, he fucking loves when you pull on his hair
This might be controversial, but I feel like he has a bit of a spit kink
IM SORRY PLEASE DON’T CANCEL ME ON TWITTER
I just get that sorta vibe from him
Rubber suit kink? Bro would totally wear it just for you to take off
He would totally have an edging kink too. Like you tease him but don’t let him cum, that would make him go crazy
When you’re in the shower he would go invisible and just watch you bathe while jerking off
He loves when you wear lingerie and he would beg for you to put on “fashion shows” for him
He would be really into neck kissing; both receiving and giving
Tate would leave hickeys going from your jaw to your stomach, which he would enjoy doing so much
He loves loves loves when you give him hickeys
Can ghosts get hickeys?
Assuming they can receive hickeys, then he would love to get them
This asshole would wear sweaters that show his neck when you leave them on him
He loves to show off the marks you leave on him, such as hickeys and bite marks
He loves kissing you
Like he would kiss you for hours on end if he could
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Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader
Day 8: mommy kink
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’I like when you do that.’’ 
‘’Do what?’’ 
‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’ 
‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply. 
Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach. 
His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence. 
*
A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there. 
From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside… 
Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back. 
You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.
‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions. 
You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 
He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’
Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son. 
‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’ 
He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’ 
After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door. 
‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.
Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’  
‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise. 
He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position. 
When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits. 
You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going. 
Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh. 
‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’
You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants. 
Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’ 
He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.
‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’
That’s exactly what he needed.
With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans. 
‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.
He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’
You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head. 
Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it. 
‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand. 
You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up. 
‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed. 
‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ 
Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself. 
‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’ 
It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him. 
You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.
He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.
 A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow. 
Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire. 
‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room. 
You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst. 
You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet. 
‘’Are you close, baby?’’ 
He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’ 
‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’
Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that. 
‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.
‘’You want me to stop?’’
‘’Please.’’ 
You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt
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lcthebtswriter · 19 days
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Working on a cute little Tate Langdon fic. Will announce before I publish!
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chloe-skywalker · 1 year
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Multiple - Tate Langdon
Tate x Fem!reader
Warnings: bad intentions?
Word count: 326
Summary: The other ghosts in the Murder House don’t seem to like the reader, like to torment her. Tate on the other hand is a wee bit protective of her.
Authors Note: Wrote this ages ago and just found it. I write all of my stories on paper first, it got lost in my room. I haven't posted for Tate in a long time, I have couple other ones I found with this one that have been posted. I don't really write for AHS anymore but I found these in my room and I wrote them years ago but lost them so here they are.
Masterlist
AHS Masterlist
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“Wh-who are y-you?” Y/n stuttered out as she saw strangers in her house.
“Really? Have you not figured it out yet?” One fo the men said with disgust.
“Give her a break. SHe’s been busy.” The woman spoke softly.
“Yeah, to busy to notice all the extra peoplerunning around the house.” The other man agreed with the woman.
“What?” Y/n asked feeling her whole body start shaking.
“Enough! Time for some fun.” The first one spoke again, smirking. An with that Y/n took off running scarred out of her mind.
“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down or you’ll break your neck.” Tate grabbed her before she could fall.
“I-I, their-” Y/n shook her head frantically.
“Woah. Slow down. What’s wrong? Your shaking.” Tate furrowed his brow in completely worry.
“Their- their coming after me.” She stuttered shaking even more.
“Your all Dicks! You know that?! None of you wanted to die and get stuck here. SO why are you all doing it to others?!” Tate screamed at the ghosts on the second level, holding Y/n tight to his chest. Trying to soothe her.
“Come on,I’ll stay by your side.” he whispered in her ear pulling her back up the stairs in his arms. Taking her back to her room.
“B-but when you l-leave -” Y/n shuddered
“I’m not gonna leave. I’ll stay near by when you can’t see me, I’m stilling gonna be their. Okay?” Tate reassured her as he helped her change into her pj’s.
“Promise?” she asked looking up at him with frightened eyes.
“I promise.” Tate stated sternly.
“Are you sure that they won’t-”
“I’m sure.” Tate held her hand tight to give her reassurance.
“Trust me, you have more than me on your side. Now lets get you to sleep. I’ll be here the whole time. I promise.” Tate settled into bed with Y/n holding her tightly which was helping to calm her nerves. “I promise.”
Taglist: @padawancat97
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