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alittlesil · 8 months

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let me distract you

Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader ♥️

a/n: hey :) i secretly enjoy writing and after a quick talk abt it with @lilthbunny i decided to post some of my fics here! hope it’s not so bad so pls enjoy

summary: you study too much and Tate decides to slightly distract you 🌸

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving)

(pic from pinterest)

Summer is almost there.

It’s almost there, and it means that you have exams in your college.

Another day of the endless studying in your dark, dusty room. A lot of textbooks are scattered on the bed mixed with notebooks, and you're lying there typing something quickly on your laptop - you need to watch another lecture… your brain aches already, your eyes narrow in the darkness of the room, you’re completely exhausted of this shit. When you type the last letter on your laptop, you feel someone’s presence nearly.

With a sigh, you take your notebook again, starting to write something and not paying any attention to the blond guy, who already took a seat on the bed with you. With a muffled tired groan, his head literally falls down on your tummy, and his hands stroke your sides gently.

“Y/n, come ooon”, he groans again, looking up at you with his dark puppy eyes. “You’ve been studying for three days in a row, i’m tired of just watching you laying here, reading and writing.”

You sigh tiredly, but feel really bad for ignoring your boyfriend this way, even knowing how much he always craves your attention. “Tate, you know this test is important.” Your fingers eventually slipped into his golden, soft curls, playing with them, as your gaze’s still locked with the notebook. You bit your lower lip, trying to focus on the study tasks, when the young boy starts to kiss your stomach through the cloth of your top, and of course you didn’t wear bra… and of course Tate notices it, when your nipples become harder because of simple kisses on your body. He smirks slyly.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to study all weekend… look at you. You look exhausted.” He said, and his fingers quickly slip under the cloth and touch your bare skin on your sides and stomach. Tate leans in and nuzzles your neck, and you unintentionally put your notebook aside. His hot breath hits your skin, as he whispers: “Someone here wants you to take a breath. Let me distract you for a while.”

You almost moaned just at these words, as your fingers tug on his hair softly and your lips curl into a slight smirk. “I think i can’t say no in this position.”

Tate smiles and immediately pulls your top off, his palms cupping your breasts, as he connects his lips with yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. Oh, this boy missed this feeling of your smooth skin in his hands, of your soft lips against his - it was only 3 days without you guys having intimacy, but for him it felt like eternity. His hot tongue brushes against your lips in a silent question, and you part your lips slightly, allowing him to slip in, while his slender fingers knead your tits.

His mouth starts to move lower - his hot lips on your neck, on your chest, on your tummy, and you can already feel how your underwear gets more wet with each second.

“That’s… a very… good… mhmhmm… decision…” He groans into your skin in between kisses, as his lips wander lower and lower. His hands reach for the buttons of your jeans, and eventually he pulls them down your legs, leaving you in your panties only. Tate pulls away, admiring the view - he always craves you, your body, your touch, no matter what, and seeing you naked (or almost naked) is enough for him to get hard within a second. His fingers trace along your bare thighs gently, as he suddenly changes the position - now you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and this boy with golden curls is kneeling in front of you, spreading your thighs. You bit your lower lip in anticipation, as his lips slowly make their way up your thigh, getting closer and closer to the spot where you crave them the most and shamelessly teasing you. Tate’s fingers reach to the waistband of your panties, tugging on it slightly.

“Let me..?” He whispers in a hushed breath, looking up at you, and this sight only can make you cum twice.

“Tate, just do it, please…” You whimper, tugging on his hair, and he lets out a soft growl, as his lips connect with your underwear, and you gasped at the sensation - it feels so good, but you need so much more… “D-don’t tease! Take these off…” You whine, and Tate smirks, enjoying how much you want him back. He can’t refuse you, and in a second your panties fall down on the floor. His slender finger runs between your folds, collecting the wetness, and he even moans quietly, seeing how eager you already are.

You shiver, and a soft whimper escapes your lips, when you feel his finger touching you. Tate pulls it away and replaces it with his soft, tender lips, and now you can’t hold back a proper moan. Your grip in his hair tightens, as he started to literally eat you out, his tongue circles around your clit and slips inside you, making you scream in pure pleasure. You pull his head closer, and Tate moans at your eagerness, continuing his adorable assault on your pussy. Your arousal mixes with his saliva, and when he sucks on your clit, you let out another loud moan.

“So loud for such a sweet girl”, he chuckles quietly, swallowing, and then suddenly entering you with his middle finger. You threw your head back, covering your mouth with your free hand just not to scream so loud that the whole neighbourhood could hear you. You squeeze your thighs unintentionally, and Tate chuckles against your clit - the vibrations send a shiver down your spine. He starts to move his finger painfully slow, and you thrust your hips, meeting his motions. When he feels that you begin to clench around his finger, he adds the second one and licks on your clit faster, but gentler.

“F-fuck, Tate!” You whine again, not able to contain yourself. “I- Oh, I think i’m gonna cum-“

Your words make him grow even harder in his jeans. “Don’t worry”, he chuckles, pulling away for a second. “I ain’t stopping.”

You whine, and with one last thrust of his fingers, finally achieve your climax. It feels like an explosion: your walls clench around his hand, the arousal dripping down your thighs, and Tate gladly licks every single drop of it. This familiar feeling of powerful wave of pleasure makes you gasp for the air, and you lay down on your back, trying to calm down. Tate pulls away from your thighs, his chin glistens with your wetness, and he wipes it away with a sleeve of his striped sweater. He crawls towards you, laying down next to your body.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, kissing your temple, and you reach up to him, smashing your lips against his - he kisses you back sloppily, still caressing your bare thigh with one hand. He then looks at you with a cocky smile and leans his head on your shoulder, breathing in your scent.

“I guess I should study even more if it means that you’re going to distract me from it like this every time…” You scoff, starting to play with his hair once again, making Tate purr.

“I don’t mind spending most of my time ‘distracting’ you.”

#evan peters #american horror story #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon smut #evan peters smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #ahs fandom #ahs fanfic #tate langdon fanfic #evan peters fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut

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evanpetersmybf · 3 months

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Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

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likablenightmare · 6 months

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"i could fix him", good for you. i’ll be joining him in his insanity.

765 notes · View notes

evanpeterswhoresblog · 10 months

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A Different Kind of High

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: use of marijuana, smut, p in v, unprotected, slight fingering, lose of virginity, slight innocence kink? lmk if there’s any others!!!

summary: you died a virgin, but that doesn’t mean you need to be one as a ghost…

word count: 1.9k

~~~

“I stole some weed from the newbies, you want some?” Tate asks as he hops up on what used to be your bed.

You’ve been dead for only a few months, living in the imfamous Murder House for a year prior. It was strange being dead, seeing people pass by on the street everyday knowing that’ll never be you again. You suppose this was what you deserved, after all you committed suicide. But never during your life did you think this was what being dead would be like. Trapped in a house with a dozen other ghosts for eternity.

Tate has been your friend since before you died, of course you didn’t know he was a ghost until you joined him on the other side. He’s charming, very down to Earth. You really don’t know much about him, even now. You’ve heard whispers about him being crazy, and you believe it. Sometimes through the night you hear his screams, his murderous laughter. It doesn’t bother you though. You’re already dead, what’s the worst he could do?

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reply.

He chuckles. “Are you serious?”

You turn red. “You saw my parents, they never let me do anything. When I used to go out they’d make me be back by nine. Even on weekends. I always figured they’d know so I didn’t bother.”

“At least tell me you’ve drank.” You shake your head, a small laugh escaping at the face Tate makes. “Have you done anything?”

“I kissed a boy when I was twelve,” you answer honestly.

“Was that your only kiss?”

“Yeah…” You mumble.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re this innocent, I always thought girls with strict parents did the dirtiest things,” he replies. He grabs the baggie of weed out of his pocket and holds it up. “You’re going to try this, and you’re going to love it.”

You don’t object, and instead watch as Tate begins to role a joint. He does it effortlessly, he’s done it many times before. You know from previous conversations that he’s done drugs much stronger than weed, the main one being cocaine. You had asked him how it felt to do it, to be alive and on a drug so strong. He told you it felt like he needed to run a mile while he was high. He also made you promise to do it with him one day.

When he finishes rolling the joint he offers it to you. “You want the first hit?”

“Fuck it, yeah,” you say.

He gives you a smile that makes butterflies swirl in your stomach. Though the two of you are only friends, you can’t deny how attractive Tate is. Even though everythings only been platonic, sometimes with certain looks and phrases, he makes you feel some special type of way.

You take the joint inbetween your lips, your eyes locked on Tate. He grabs a lighter and lifts it to the other end of the joint.

“I’d usually say take a small hit, but usually it takes a little more to get us high so take as much as you think is necessary,” he explains before lighting the end.

You inhale deeply, the smoke it hot and you know if you were alive it would burn your lungs completely. Thankfully though, it only stings a little. After a few seconds Tate takes it from your lips and you exhale slowly, watching as he repeats your actions. You lean back against the pillows, you feel a little something.

“How long does it usually take to get high?” You ask.

“I dunno a few minutes I guess, why? Do you feel it?”

Your head feels light and the room looks brighter. “I think so, I feel… lighter.”

“Oh yeah, you’re high,” he replies with a laugh.

He lays beside you on the bed, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. You hear him take a few more puffs of the joint, wondering how he does’t feel anything yet. Your whole body feels electrified, every muscle alive and thriving. You almost feel like how you did before you died, almost. It makes you smile.

“Why did I never try this before…” you mumble, a small laugh leaving your lips. “Fuck I feel good.”

“I know right, it’s pretty great.”

You turn your head and stare at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He meets your gaze. “Of course.”

You don’t know where the sudden burst of honesty comes from. Usually, you’re embarrassed to talk about anything you did or more specifically didn’t do in your life. However, as you stare into Tate’s dark eyes you feel the urge to tell him every little detail about you.

“I died a virgin,” you whisper. “Like I never even got fingered or anything.”

You stare at each other for another few seconds before you both burst out into laughter. You don’t know why it’s so funny, but it is. You feel amazing, like you’re on top of the world. But you also feel like every word that comes out of your mouth is hilarious.

“I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry,” you say as the laughter dies down. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, you aren’t stupid. I know a few other ghosts died virgins, like the nurses,” he replies, that stupid smirk on his face.

“God don’t say that!” You exclaim. “At least they chose to die virgins, I tried to hard to be fucked before I died but every time I started to become interested in someone my stupid parents ruined it.”

Tate props his head up on his hand so he’s now looking down at you. “Well on the brightside your parents are gone now so you can fuck anyone you want.”

“Yeah but the options aren’t exactly ideal. There’s really only Travis, but he’d definitely not be the best option for a first time,” you laugh.

“I’m here too you know.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“You know what I mean,” Tate answers, his voice quieter than before.

Your laughter stops at his words, and you meet his eyes once again. This time, you can sense something lingering behind his eyes, something you haven’t ever noticed before. You smile, trying to ease the tension that’s filled the room. He’s probably just messing with you. However, he doesn’t smile back at you, his expression stays the same.

You’re in disbelief. Is this real? Is your best friend really telling you he’d take your virginity? This can’t be real, you think. Maybe it’s just because of the weed, maybe it’s doing something to your head. You can’t deny the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of it though. Tate would be a good first. He’s experienced, but not with too many people. You find yourself suddenly imaging it, how it would feel, sharing that experience with someone you truly enjoy being around. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide.

“All right,” You say. You kick your shoes off without breaking eye contact. “Is it going to hurt?”

He smirks and follows your actions. “It usually does the first time.”

You smile and start undoing the buttons on your jeans. You know if you hadn’t taken that puff of the joint you’d be selfconcious getting undressed in front of Tate. He watches you carefully as you remove your pants, your shirt, even your bra. It’s silent, but not an awkward silence, more of a comforting silence. You only look away from him as you slowly pull your panties off and throw them into the newly formed pile of your clothes.

It’s your turn to watch now. Your eyes trail up and down Tate’s body as he slowly undresses. He’s so beautiful, his body is perfect. You can’t stop yourself from reaching over and running your fingertips over the toned muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes meet once again and you almost shiver at how full his eyes have become with lust.

Quickly, he leans his head down and connects your lips to his. The kiss is slow at first, like you’re treading the water. But as you start to understand how it works, you move your lips against his, following his motions. The soft gentle kiss becomes full of passion. You twirl your fingers in his soft blond curls, loving the way his breathing gets heavier as you do so.

He moves on top of you, hit body fitting between your legs swiftly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin feels like it needs to be touched. Tate rests one of his hands beside your head and the other begins to slide down your chest, your stomach, till it reaches the place it was searching for. You feel him smile into the kiss.

“So excited already…” he mumbles.

His fingers run between your folds, collecting the wetness that’s already begun to drip out of you. He circles them on your clit for a few minutes, making you moan from the new but amazing feeling. After that he slides his pointer finger down to your entrance.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you?” He chuckles. He begins to slowly push his finger inside you and you grab his free arm.

“Thank you for doing this,” you clarify.

“I like how innocent you are, but I can’t lie I’ve always dreamt of being the one to rip that innocence away,” he whispers.

Before you can reply he lowers his head to your neck and begins to leave sloppy kisses along your skin. You can’t believe this is really happening. Once his finger is fully inside you, he starts to thrust it in and out at a slow pace. You moan, your back arching off the matress. He continues this for a few minutes before adding a second, preparing you perfectly for what’s going to come next.

He kisses down your chest until he’s at your breasts. He sucks and licks your nipples, it feels amazing. You can’t take it any longer, you need him. You grab his chin and connect your lips. He kisses you harder than before, biting and sucking your tongue into his mouth. You love it. You can’t get enough of it.

“I’m ready Tate,” you say breathlessly as your lips part. “I want to do it.”

“All right.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you watch him position his hard dick on your entrance. He looks down at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “If it hurts to bad just tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

You nod, and before you can say anything else he starts to move. It hurts, but not too bad. Tate kisses you as he does this, it makes the pain more bearable. You wrap one of your hands around his back, your nails slowly dragging across the skin of Tate’s back. He only kisses you harder. His thrusts are slow, but your thighs still clench around his hips.

After a few minutes he asks if he can go faster, you tell him yes. The pain slowly morphed into a small pleasure that you enjoy. You continue to claw at his back, even more as his pace inscreases. You’re out of breath, the only sounds in the room being your moans along with Tate’s heavy breathing. It’s pure bliss.

The end comes faster than you want, but you don’t mind. You love the way Tate whispers your name as he cums, and how strongly his dick pulses inside you. You hold him close after it’s over, his skin against yours makes you feel alive again.

“Was it okay?” he asks as he lays on you.

“It was perfect,” you answer.

And so it was.

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babygorewhore · 10 months

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Soft! Dom Tate.

Just a smutty little Drabble with this subby baby. But he does honestly give me slight switch vibes so I do feel like sometimes he would take control to please you. WARNINGS! Male masterbation and slight female masterbation. Humping! Fingering.

Tate watched in the darkness as you came in from the shower. You were wearing a lose fitting robe that hugged all your curves in the right place. He stared as you sat on your bed, applying lotion before you sat at your vanity. You applied serums and creams but you overheard a breath. Pausing, you searched for your ghostly boyfriend who you hadn’t seen all day.

His palm went down to his pants, as he saw your cleavage came as you moved. He watched your tits move as you shifted on your chair. He moaned quietly and his fingers slid down in his pants. Your legs were bare and he thought about them wrapped around his waist. Your flesh underneath his hands instead of his own palm. You were so pretty. Such a pretty little thing to him. Perfect.

He kept tugging at himself, sweat pouring over his forehead as he grew closer. His hand moved faster as he imagined what it would feel like to taste you, make you cum over and over again.

You heard him and you hid a smirk. You knew he was a virgin. So were you. But you wanted him to take you to bed. So you spread your legs, your hands grazing your folds.

Tate couldn’t handle it anymore. He made himself visible and marched towards you. He leaned down, capturing your lips into a fierce kiss. His tongue grazed your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth. You did, and he swept his tongue along your teeth before his hands wrapped around your neck, gently squeezing. Your hands buried themselves in his hair as he lifted you up off the chair before pressing you on your soft bed.

He shuffled out of his shirt, before he moved aside your robe, exposing your breasts. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently as his other hand felt your other mound. You whimpered as he continued tracing his lips around your breast, leaving marks behind.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Tate told you as he lowered himself down. He kissed along your stomach but you dragged him back to your mouth.

He rolled his clothed dick along your pussy as he groaned into your mouth. His fingers slipped down, rubbing over your clit. He stirred a groan out of you as he dipped his middle and pointer finger inside, pumping gently as his thumb circled your clit. “Beg for it…beg for me to make you feel good.”

“Please, Tate. Make me cum?” You asked him and he nodded, finding your pulse point on your neck. His tongue tasting your warm flesh as he increased his speed, finger fucking your pussy.

His movements grew faster against you, his jeans feeling tight around his hard cock. He wouldn’t last that much longer and neither would you. You panted as you drew close to your orgasm.

His fingers reached deeper inside and you cried out, burying your head against his shoulder as he kissed your neck. He rolled his hips, stopping as he came, he whimpered “Fuck,” He said against you.

You both stilled and you looked down at the wet patch on his dick.

“Did you cum?” You asked him, laying your head down.

“Yeah,” He said, shyly before he crawled in front of you.

“You did so good, baby.” You said to him as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He grabbed hold of your hand as he curled on his side.

You both settled in silence as you held each other.

Taglist. @howtobesasha

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spookievan · 1 year

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high school sweetheart <3

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evanchantingpeters · 4 months

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T(h)rust in me, I’m not over you... (Fanfic - Alex from Adult World)

Pairings ─ Alex (from Adult World) x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff

Summary ─ Y/N and Alex (aka Evan Peters in Adult World) are exes who haven’t quite let go. A friend’s birthday party turns into a comedy of errors when a black-out drunk Y/N accidentally enters Alex’s postcode as her own for a cab ride home. As Alex finds her at his doorstep and takes her in his place, old feelings resurface and steamy times go down in his bathroom.

Warnings ─ Swearing, smut, unprotected sex p in v, drinking, oral (m receiving), rough sex, nipple teasing, hangover sex, doggy, pretty smutty guys you’re being warned :)

Word count ─ 3.7K

18+ > If you’re a minor, DO NOT read!

The birthday cake of your friend, Beatrice, stands proudly in the centre of her living room, decked out in colourful frosting and flickering candles.

You and the rest of the guests belt out the overdone ‘Happy Birthday’ song in what you think is perfect harmony. But here comes Jerry, Beatrice’s younger brother, who starts hollering the lyrics off-key, stealing the show.

Snorting, the birthday girl nudges her brother away, leaning over the cake to blow out the candles. Just as she’s mouthing her wish, Jerry, wearing a wicked grin, swoops in and dips his sister’s face right into the cake.

The room erupts in uproarious laughter as Beatrice’s expression goes from shocked to amused. She taps her cake-covered eyes to remove some chocolate. Then, she turns to Jerry with a look that’s half playful, half ‘I’m plotting revenge.’

“You’re in for it now, Jerry!” she barks. And just like that, an all-out frosting war breaks out, turning the room into a sugar-fuelled battlefield. Cake crumbs are flying in every direction, but you manage to dodge most of it with only a few cake-bulleted stains along the hem of your black dress.

You retreat to a corner of the room, sipping your Prosecco like you’re watching sitcom chaos unfold from afar. Suddenly, you notice a stranger in a fancy tux sauntering over, a sly grin playing on his plump lips.

“Well, looks like you’ve stayed mostly unscathed… or shall I say un-caked?” he chirps, his voice deep and throaty as he nods toward the cake war raging on.

You just shrug, tossing him a faint, uninterested smile, “Good reflexes, I guess,” you quip, giving him a quick once-over before turning back to the cake madness. You feel his dark green eyes scanning you as if you’re going through airport security.

He chuckles, and leans in. “If you need someone to scrub the marks off your dress, I’m your guy,” he whoops, playfully thumping his chest. He extends his hand with an inviting smile. “Tony.”

“Y/N,” you reply bluntly, your energy matching that of a deflated balloon.

Unfazed by your meh vibes, Tony decides to turn up the heat on the handshake, taking you aback as he begins to stroke your wrist. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous,” he purrs, his eyes never leaving yours.

In a bold move, he lightly kisses the back of your hand, his stubble scratching your skin.

You instinctively pull away, trying to force a polite smile, but a nervous twitch is all you manage. Your intrusive thoughts kick in, lecturing you (as usual), ‘Give the guy a chance, Y/N. Seriously, after Alex, all you think about is eye-gouging dudes with a spoon? Get a grip and move on!’

“Enjoying the party, Y/N?” he asks, snapping you out of your mental mess.

“It’s not too bad. I’m here for Beatrice,” you retort, fetching a glass of wine from the buffet. Your eyes drift to the birthday girl, now caked from head to toe and giggling hysterically. You can’t help but crack a smile.

“Sorry, gotta go. Trice’s calling me,” you blurt out and lunge toward your friend, catching a muffled, “No, she didn’t” from behind as you’re practically escaping.

As the night barrels on, your party spirit is like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. You’re all in, downing shots and cocktails like they’re on a liquid clearance sale.

Yet, the question looms in the air: Are you drinking for the sheer fun of it or just drowning sorrows in that cocktail shaker? Alex heartache mode on.

Before you know it, you’re totally sloshed, messily sprawled on a plush couch, using Tanya’s (another friend of yours) knees as your personal pillow. “Iiiiii reeeeally like your boooody, bodyyy, yeah. I reaaaaally wanna get naughtyyyyy I think you’re such a hottieeeee,” you croak out each word of the pop track with a slur, laughing uncontrollably. Your eyes are shut, lost in your boozy world.

As you ramble on, Tony, who’s been lurking around, seizes the moment and leaps out from behind the couch. He casually nudges Tanya’s arm, yelling, “You heard that, Tansy?” with theatrical flair. “She thinks I’m a hottie!” His grin spreads wider than a rubber band as he arrogantly points at himself, acting like he’s the main character of your drunken karaoke.

Tanya clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and cuts in with a hiss, “Tony! Behave, man!” She softly kisses the top of your head in a futile attempt to soothe your booze-induced storm.

“I offered to clean up her dress…” Tony goes on, hovering over the couch. “But, not gonna lie, I’d rather have it crunched up on my bedroom floor as she moans my name,” he murmurs, emphatically banging his fist on the couch before doubling up with laughter.

“Oh, hush it, Tony,” Tanya roars and waves him away, turning back to you and your delirium, which has hit the roof. “I need to get you home, girl, and none of us is fit to drive…”

Tony, not one to give up easily, chimes in once more. “I volunteer! I’d give her a lift all day, all night.”

“No, we’re all catching a cab,” she declares with a tone that brooks no argument. She lightly pokes your shoulder. “Y/N, my love?”

Your tipsy babbling starts to fade into a murmur that seems to be lulling you to sleep. “Y/N,” Tanya repeats. “What’s your postcode, sweetie?”

Your alcohol-soaked brain struggles to register this simple question. “P-postcode? P-o-s-t-d, no. P-p,” you stutter.

“Yes, darling. Confirm your postcode for me, would you? I don’t have it saved,” Tanya says calmly, holding her phone in front of your face.

With a grunt, you manage to sit up, but the world continues to dance spinning salsa around you. With an unsteady hand, you reach for the device, and your fingers fumble as you try to type out the letters and digits.

Deep in your drunken haze, you unconsciously punch in a code that matches anything else but your address.

“To the hottieeeeee,” you shout, throwing your fist in the air before dropping yourself back onto your friend’s knees.

“Ma,am, we’re here,” the taxi driver announces to Tanya that’s sat next to him, his hoarse voice slicing through the quiet of the car.

Tanya swivels around to face the backseats, where you’re laid down, totally passed out. “Y/N,” she calls softly, giving your leg a gentle rub, but you don’t stir.

She hops off the car and speed-walks to your side. With great care, she helps you out by wrapping her hands around you. Your arm is looped around her shoulder for stability. “Biyatchhhh, I saiddd whooo I saeee… who da biyaatch? Am da biyatchh,” you hoot, swaying and leaning heavily on your friend as you pinch her cheek with a goofy smile.

“Y/N, just a sec,” Tanya huffs out as she shoves herself back in to retrieve your purse and coat from the car floor.

You both stumble your way through the labyrinthine apartment complex. “You got your house key?” she asks, catching her breath.

It takes a hot minute for the information to hit as you stare at your friend like a deer in headlights. With an unexpected burst of energy, you break free from Tanya’s hold, almost tripping a few steps away. “My Tanoushka, I'm sho happy you haar!” You cry out and lurch back toward her, showering her with enthusiastic smooches on her cheeks.

Then, in a theatrical whirl, you pop open the purse and jangle your keys in her face. “Jiggly, jiggly. Okiee, goooo, go, go!” you cheer in a wobbly dance, urging Tanya to get back into the car.

With an anxious look on her face, Tanya stands by the open car door. “Alright, phone me once you’re indoors,” she insists, her worried eyes laser-focused on you.

You shoo her away absentmindedly as you stagger toward the complex’s main door. You wrestle with the key, wriggling and twisting it into the lock, but miserably fail to get in the building. “Bad key,” you playfully scold, wagging a finger at the stubborn piece of metal before giving it a light slap.

Soon after, your fingers impulsively begin to clumsily hit the buttons on the intercom, creating a cacophony of buzzing sounds that echo through the entryway. “O-o-o-pen uuup,” your slurred shouting rings through the intercom. “Shtupidd thaang,” you whine, practically bashing the device.

Out of the chorus of tenant voices that crackle through the speaker almost simultaneously, Alex’s familiar voice stands out.

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” Hearing the shaky and uncertain voice, Alex doesn’t waste a second. He dashes down the stairwell and swings the entrance door wide open, facing a dishevelled Mia, rocking around about to collapse.

“Y/N,” he gasps and sprints to you. “What happened? Why are you here?” His brows furrow in confusion as he observes your smudged makeup and dress that’s askew.

You look up at him with a lopsided smile, your eyes all bloodshot and half-lidded. “Alex, my hottieee. I mishhhsed you so muschh!” you exclaim, your sentences meandering as you lounge at him for a sloppy hug.

“Shit, you’re hammered,” he mutters, worry spurs him into action. With superhero speed, he scoops you up, your butt facing upwards, hands hanging loosely off his back.

Your giggles echo as Alex carries you onto his shoulder with ease, making his way to the lift that leads to his place. In a soft, reassuring whisper, he says, “Don’t worry, baby,” and plants a kiss on your thigh that’s now resting on his chest. “I’ll take care of you,” he adds, giving you a playful spank on the ass.

Once inside, Alex makes a pitstop in the kitchen for a water bottle while you dangle off his shoulder like a ragdoll, humming nonsense. He heads to the bedroom and gently lays you on the bed, making sure your landing is as comfy as a cloud.

Kneeling beside you, he begins to delicately take off your high heels, rubbing your legs along the way. “Who needs a napkin when your dress can double as a tissue, right?” he chuckles softly, tracing the dry cake marks on your outfit, unaware of the sugary fight earlier. “You’ve officially introduced ‘cake couture’ to the fashion world,” he teases, trying to bundle you in a blanket like a burrito.

You slowly lift your head from the pillow, your neck muscles tightening with the effort as you stare at him with bleary yet intent eyes. “I want shyour cakey,” you mewl, wriggling under the blanket on a mission to liberate your hands.

You tug on his hoodie, pulling him closer until he loses his balance and topples onto you. Your bodies press together, and your voice comes out in a pleading whine. “Alex?”

“Yes?” he rasps out, his dark brown eyes flicking down to your lips and then up into your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you mumble and perk up, slowly grazing your lips against his, eyes shut.

The strong scent of alcohol wafts from you, but, in that moment, Alex seems beyond minding. His heart races too erratically to care, and his breaths are too jagged and wild to bother. The room seems to shrink for both of you, and he swallows hard.

“No, Y/N,” he snaps, his voice firm and resolute as he jumps up. “I’d never let this happen... not right now... not with you being like this.” He snatches the water bottle from the bedside table, unscrewing it with a sense of urgency.

Slightly dazed, you touch your lips. “Tickles, tickles, ticklish,” you squeak, breaking into soft giggles. In a sudden and wobbly move, you shift position, popping up on your knees on the bed. “Huggies,” you whoop facing him, arms wide open for an embrace.

But, just as quickly, your mood takes a detour, and now you’re wincing, yanking at the fabric of your outfit in frustration, “This dresshh is prison, tightiee,” you grunt, hiking your dress up only to reveal your red panties.

His eyes can’t help but stare down there as he rubs the back of his neck almost compulsively, his breath hitching in his throat. At the sight of you half-naked, the dilemma of whether to give in or resist intensifies, swirling in his mind on end.

“Hold up, I don’t want you catching a cold or something. I’ve got a top you can slip into,” he says, puffing out his words while pacing toward his wardrobe to avoid looking at her.

“Heeey,” you yell with an unexpectedly stern tone that catches him off guard. But, just as swiftly, your face softens into a sweet, almost kiddish smile that instantly cools things off.

You wave Alex over, beckoning him to approach. “Come, come, comeyyy,” you coo.

You perch next to him again, still rocking that mischievous smile. “It’s a secret, tiny winnie one,” you whisper-shout, pinching your index finger and thumb near your face, closing one eye for added drama. “Just between you and me,” you poke as you emphasise ‘me.’

Alex nods as his grin stretches from ear to ear. “Okay…” he chuckles, officially joining your light-hearted moment.

“Shhhhh,” you dramatically hush, squishing your index finger against your lips like you’re sharing classified intel. “Secret-t-t-t.”

Alex snorts. His rolls his lips into his mouth as he lowers his head to hold back a laugh. “My bad, my bad. Go on,” he whispers with exaggerated enthusiasm. He’s clearly having a blast with your goofy antics.

“Don’t tell Alex… Neva eva!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he assures you, theatrically raising his finger for a pinky promise.

You take an unusually long moment to process his gesture and what it represents. A sober person would never… Eventually, you sloth-slowly glance back at him, nonchalantly deciding to give up on the symbolism behind the lifted pinky finger. “He’s the kindestsht… and p-p-prettiest boy I’ve eeeeever met,” you exclaim. Your fingers—guided by intoxicated conviction—clumsily roam over his face, stretching his nostril and trailing down to his bottom lip.

Your drunken self radiates an innocent sincerity that makes Alex’s heart throb like a hammer. Flattered and charmed by your confession, he gazes at you bashfully.

His warm smile broadens as he keeps on staring and admiring you.

“He’s shhhuper,” you squeal, forming a heart shape with your fingers, peeking at him through it. “Do youse… hic… I should gimme… no… not me… him, give HIM head to say thank yew for treatin' spoooooon good?”

Alex can’t help but crack up, though his cheeks turn rosy—a testament to his shy nature. He cups his chin and narrows his eyes mischievously, like he’s in deep thought. “Hmm, if we’re talking about Alex, your ex...I think you should give him head, BUT,” he exclaims, throwing a finger into the air.

You gasp, playfully covering your mouth like you’ve heard the most shocking news. Your eyes bulge with feigned surprise. “Beyond all,” he argues, “I think you should totally get back together. He thinks you broke up for something very silly, and he’s dying to be with you.”

You abruptly jerk away from him, gagging as if you’re about to throw up. You feel the blood draining from your face as a wave of distress washes over you.

Alex’s eyes widen with concern as he instinctively rises from the bed, “Off we go to the bathroom,” he insists, rushing to follow you.

Your nausea takes a sudden turn, and you can’t hold back any longer. Barely making it to the toilet in time, you let it all out. Your body heaves with each retch, and you feel miserable.

Alex, the unsung hero, drops to his knees and chucks the water bottle on the floor. He gently pulls your hair back, creating a makeshift puke-proof barrier. All the while, he rubs your back to make the whole ordeal less horrible.

Then, he’s quick on his feet, grabbing some toilet paper for the post-barf clean-up. As you dab your lips, he hands you the bottle to rinse. “I’m disgustiiing, don’t look,” you grumble, shooing him away as you spit water in the toilet before flushing.

“You’re still a wonder to my eyes,” he whispers, running a hand through your loose hair. “And the timing—you puke just as I suggest we get back together, Y/N” he mocks, adding a sprinkle of humour to the less-than-glamorous moment.

You groan and let your head flop onto the toilet seat. “Ahhh, my moussth feels weird… bruushh,” you mumble, rubbing your lips.

Alex lifts you up, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Not brushing yet, baby. We’re swishing with some hydrogen peroxide and water to protect the enamel,” he instructs you, preparing the said concoction in a small measuring cup next to you. “Here you go, wash off.”

“Shhh, you’re a niiieeerd,” you whine after spitting the liquid, feeling it sting your tongue. Giggling, you yank at Alex’s hoodie and playfully sway him back and forth, your minty breath fanning his face.

Then, you suddenly stop and fix him right in the eye. “Aleeex?” you whimper, lips pouting.

“Yes, Y/N,” he asks calmly, sweeping a few strands of hair off your face as a half smirk curls up his lips. He enjoys the banter that weaves through your drunken fog.

“Fuck me,” you plead, fiddling with the buckle of his belt.

Alex’s pulse quickened for a second, held in an irregular rhythm. All the while, your fingertips caress his lower stomach, trying to slip through his trousers and onto his boxers.

You let go when he clears his throat loudly, a deliberate attempt to regain composure. Breathing heavily, he manages a tight-lipped as he strokes your head, tenderly placing it on his shoulder.

“Ohhh, I knoooow,” your exclaim and sit up, your index finger playfully pressing against your mouth. “I willshh brush me an’ you fuck me.”

Forty minutes later, you’re done with her hardcore toothbrushing session, complete with a few rounds of gargling mouthwash. Alex hands you a towel with a warm smile. You’re still wobbly but muster a grateful grin.

“Thaaank, yew rock,” you slur, clumsily patting your face dry.

Alex chuckles, “Better?”

You hum, nodding, but your bleary eyes suddenly light up mischievously. Out of impulse, you slide into the tub, turning the water knob. You start splashing around, water welling up everywhere as you laugh uncontrollably. Alex, caught in the aquatic crossfire, shields himself with his hands.

“What’s the goal? Turning this into a water park?” he jokes, still trying to dodge the watery onslaught. But you’re having none of it. You grip his arm and drag him into the splash party.

Soon, you’re both a wet, tangled mess, laughing like loons, lost in the bliss of the moment. As water skims through the contours of your bodies, there’s a switch in the atmosphere. Amidst the fun chaos, your eyes meet inches away from each other, and the laughter mellows into a shared silence.

Before you realise it, your lips crash in a spontaneous kiss. You spread your legs, letting him wade through and tower over you. Soft moans escape him, and the vibrations against your mouth send delightful shivers down your backbone. You know that’s not just a collision of flesh; it transcends into a harmonious blend of passion and connection.

“I want you, Alex,” you sigh with newfound clarity, miraculously not stumbling over your words in an intoxicating joy for the first time tonight. You push the back of his head to deepen the kiss, your tongues now twisting and twirling in a sensual waltz.

He hungrily gropes handfuls of your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses across the crook of your neck.

“Y/N.. no... stop it,” he protests when your hand ventures down his trousers, rubbing along his growing bulge. Your quivering breaths mingle as he breaks the kiss. Skillfully, he turns off the water as he steps out of the tub. “It’s the alcohol talking now, not you.”

You frown, clutching on the edges of the tub for balance. “The alcohol has shut up; I speak now,” you groan as you stand on your feet. Your drenched dress clings to your body, outlining your figure. Feeling the weight of the soaked fabric, you decide to free yourself from it.

You strip down to your panties, and your soft, pink nipples rise like rosebuds in bloom, betraying a quiet anticipation. Alex sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your every move all mesmerised, eyes widening, lips parted.

“Ever seen someone redefine the art of walking a tightrope?” you chirp, water dripping down your half-naked body. Sinking to your knees, you get on all fours and slowly begin to crawl to him.

You sway your hips in a sensuous, almost hypnotic rhythm, eyes fixed on Alex. All the while, you trace a perfectly straight line to him, proving your recovered sobriety.

Arriving at his pelvic level, you gracefully sit back on your heels with a coy smile, maintaining eye contact. “See?” you whisper, tilting your head as your eyes travel down at his erection. You don’t dare to touch; you just marvel at his full length (realistically speaking).

Staring down at you with a knowing, crooked smirk, he runs his fingers through your damp hair, tenderly petting your head.

“Someone’s suffering here. Let’s free this big boy, shall we?” you purr, brushing your fingers along his hard rock crotch, feeling it twitch upon touch.

He quickly nods in despair as if he’s unable to utter a single syllable. You slowly roll down his trousers and boxers. He gasps as you finally take hold of his large shaft.

You push his tip in your mouth, flattening your tongue, and swipe down the underside ridge of his stiff dick, humming in delight. He groans louder than you expected as you slowly work his cock in and out, grazing your fingers over the ridges of his abs under his t-shirt.

You pull him back out of your mouth just to slide all the way back down. He’s practically growling at this point, clasping onto the corners of the sink—his vein-y arms make your sex twice as moist.

You regain your slow, teasing pace just to gauge his reaction. Letting out a whine like he can’t take it anymore, he grips your hair tighter, pushing you all the way down his dick. His head is now building on pressure as it strikes the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes. His hair grip loosens as his breaths start escaping him in choked, punchy gasps.

You’re sucking him whole, from his taint down to his balls, dripping your saliva all over him the harder you draw him into your mouth. Your swollen pussy is tingling for him as you feel him hardening in your mouth, forcing loud moans out of you.

Knowing that your next move will finish him, you slow down again and grab him by the waist, gazing up at him. That’s when you begin to take him in faster and rougher, feeling his hips thrust harder each time.

And… proven! With the change in speed, he lets out a series of choppy moans only to shoot his hot cum in your mouth right after. He stares down at you breathless, mouth agape, as you gulp down his sweet taste with rapid, eager swallows, savouring his taste with a giggle.

“My girl,” he rasps out as he picks you up from the floor effortlessly yet almost in a trance, his dick still throbbing in your hands. He peels his t-shirt off, turning you around so you both face the large bathroom mirror.

Positioned behind you, he holds you close and smacks your ass hard, making you squeal with surprise. The squeal soon turns into a moan as the pain fades into pleasure.

You smile slyly as you observe his muscular hands travelling from your hips all the way up to your waistline and tits. You gasp softly when you feel his erection on your back as his mouth nibbles the flushed skin of your neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

“I want you to cum inside me, Alex” you blurt out and take hold of his shaft from behind, slowly sliding the head though your tight moist slit in short thrusts.

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts, biting his bottom lip as he feels your wet lips wrap around him. He instantly fills his hands with your hard nipples, squeezing and rubbing them as he looks at your reflection. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he mutters against your ear in a low, husky voice before knocking himself deep inside you, balls deep, making you scream. His hands roughly grip your thighs to keep you steady and close to him.

Small sobs leave you as you instinctively grab the ends of the sink, bending over to cope with taking him deeper. “Just there,” you yelp, panting, as he starts pounding harder, your hair twisted around his hand. With each thrust, his sack slaps against your clit, making you lose your shit.

Every time your pussy gets to the base of his cock, you pump into him with an intense tempo and move your hips around, making his cock swirl inside your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you cry out with shallow, jagged puffs, rising and resting your head on his shoulder.

He pinches your nipples between his knuckles with one hand while with the other, he starts massaging your clit with circular motions.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper in pure ecstasy as a hot flush courses through you, your cunt aching and begging to release.

“You take in me so well, baby. Give it to me,” he groans, his voice a throaty sensual rasp that makes you shudder.

“Yeees,” you scream, writhing and grinding against him until you feel warm liquid dripping down your legs.

He keeps riding your orgasm out with you, fucking the liquids in back until he hits his own high. And then it happens—his cum gushing inside you, stuffing you up.

Out of breath, Alex pulls himself out of you, watching his cum leak out. He lazily grins at you, his curls sticking to his head, and you tuck them all back with trembling hands, giggling.

“This pussy and her owner over here will be the death of me,” he chuckles, gasping for air as he pulls you in for a sloppy, heated kiss.

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redroses07 · 1 month

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𝕋𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕕𝕠𝕟 // 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

A/N: Hi guys!! I really hope this isn't cringe, and that y'all like it. If you want me to write a fic based on this lmk in the comments or leave it in my reqs!! Love you guys, and enjoy!

Summary: When you first move into murder house, you and Tate don't get off on the right foot.

Warnings: Suggestive, pervy Tate.

When you and your family first moved into Murder House obviously you didn't know Tate was a ghost, so you just thought he was your neighbor.

He was always lurking, popping up out of nowhere, and it was beyond frustrating.

"Hey, beautiful" Tate appeared behind you as you were relaxing in the garden.

"What the hell? Why do you have to act like such a creep?" You yelled in exasperation.

While Tate got on your nerves, moving to a new area in the summer left your social life in disrepair. There weren't many options for outings so you often found yourself stuck in the house for weeks on end.

You got easily bored of your parents, and eventually yourself, so you found yourself seeking out the company of the strange boy.

"Looks like I'm growing on you."

"Shut up, you're my last resort." You snapped, smoking a joint with Tate in the back yard.

As the summer went on Tate's presence turned from tolerable to enjoyable.

You found yourself looking forward to days spent hanging out with him.

Although you two had become friends that didn't mean he didn't still piss you off.

He has a bad habit of showing up at inconvenient times, and it was even worse that your parents thought he was a bad influence.

"BOO!" Tate grabbed you from behind while you were peacefully sitting on your bed.

You screamed before realizing it was him, and you were sure your parents had heard.

"Jesus Tate!! My parents will kill you if they see you in my room."

"I can make you scream a lot louder if you give me the chance, that'll make em' really worried."

"Tate get out." You pushed him out the door.

Low and behold, Tate woke you up that very same night crawling through your window.

You protested this at first but he eventually convinced you to let him stay.

Tate crawled up on the bed next to you, making himself comfortable under your covers.

Nights like this became a frequent occurrence, the two of you would often stay up all night. Not in a sex way, more to just talk about anything and everything and enjoy each other's presence. After all you weren't ready to be more than friends yet.

The first time Tate kissed you was one of these nights. You were sitting on your bed facing each other, he was fiddling with your fingers as you talked to him softly.

Eventually the conversation slowed, leaving you to do nothing but stare into his sad brown eyes.

It caught you off guard when Tate leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

It was short, almost too short to even be a real kiss, but it made your stomach do back flips in a way it never had before.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't..." Tate said when you didn't react.

You dismissed that thought by kissing him again, this time with much more passion.

From that point on, your nights together were spent very differently.

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writersblockedx · 2 years

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Just Being Neighbourly

Pairing - Pre-death!Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader Summary - The two have been neighbours for some years now, yet Tate can't help but make his move. Warnings - None, I don't think, just a lot of fluff! Words - 1.6K

A/n - It’s October which means I’ve been re-watching AHS and couldn’t help but write a tate fic after finishing murder house!

Masterlist

It was always a mystery living in the house across from the Langdons. They were strange people, Y/n's mother would say coming home late from work after getting reeled into conversation with Constance. Or sometimes Y/n would catch the young boy, whom she knew to be Tate from school, leaving the house in the early hours of the morning.

It was them hours when she would be intruded by the thoughts to follow after to him, to yell his name. They were barely even acquaintances, they would be classed as strangers if it were the fact they knew the other's name. But, for whatever reason, Y/n couldn't help the feeling to make sure he was okay in them midnight hours. Yet, every time them thoughts surface, she'd bypass them, tell herself it was none of her business and return to trying to sleep herself.

It had been one random weekend when things began to change. She'd been standing at the bus stop at the end of the road for a bus that was already five minutes late. Her legs chilly with the autumn breeze that passed, yet she had no choice but to bare it in anticipation for the vehicle which was due. She'd been so focused on trying to spot the bus, she had never even clocked that Tate was wandering up to her.

His hands in his pockets, surely to keep his own palms warm, and a slick smile smothering his expression. "Hey," His soft tone reached her ears, almost making her jump - something of which she was successful in concealing as she turned to face Tate.

She too flashed a grin. Y/n tried hard to make sure it wasn't too much, but at the same time, that it wasn't too little. They were neighbours after all - they had to be neighbourly. But, Y/n also didn't want him getting any other ideas. Well, that part she wasn't quite sure of yet. "Hi, Tate, you alright?" She asked him.

"You don't have to make small talk." He chuckled and they both felt a wave of relief from his words. "We're not our mothers. You know, pretending to make small talk as if we don't hate each."

Her eyes narrowed and she swayed on her feet in curiosity. "How do you know my mother doesn't like yours?" She queried with a cheeky glint in her pupils that they both seemed to share.

"Because I've met my mother. I happen to live with her." He replied.

"Sounds torturous." Y/n didn't know the half of it. "Are you saying we secretly hate each other?" She then asked with the quirk of a brow.

He shrugged and took a moment to reply as if debating if he should even speak at all. "Do you? Hate me?"

Her head shook the moment the words slipped passed his lips, "No, of course not. What gave you that idea?"

Again, he was hesitant. Y/n couldn't know for sure, but this seemed like a concern which had been haunting him for awhile now. "You don't speak to me at school. Like when we pass in the hallways, or in class." He shrugged as if his tone wasn't dripping in heavy emotion he seemed to have been holding onto.

"Niether do you, Tate." She said with a slither of a smile. Had she known her apathy towards him was causing such concern, she would have done something about it.

"So you don't...hate me?"

She grinned back at him like she did the first time. "Course not." She told him, looking back at the road to spot the bus which was soon approaching.

Neither of them said anything as it gained closer until it stopped. Y/n got on first, swirling back to face Tate when he made no move to get onto the bus. "You not getting on?" She questioned with knitted brows.

A slick smirk was plastered against his lips, "I'm not getting a bus." He winked, the doors shut and the bus started moving again. There was one question that soon rung around Y/n's mind: if he wasn't getting on the bus, what had he been doing standing at the bus stop?

There was one thing that came out of that unexpected conversation: Y/n started noticing Tate at school. In the beginning, she'd started to smile at him in the hallways, he'd always smile back. Then it was a 'good morning' as they passed, or whispered in class. Before Y/n even realised it, she was looking for him in the crowds. She wished she'd bump into him, that they'd meet eyes and have an excuse to talk again.

There came a day where she just couldn't bare it anymore. Weeks had passed and while they were friendly, she craved for more. She was seated in the library, surrounded by a few friends. Y/n had a good amount of work to do - as her teachers kept reminder her - but her eyes wouldn't dare peel from the curly-haired boy sat two tables down from her.

Tate always sat alone. Sometimes it was because he simply wanted to do, other times it was because there wasn't a second option. At this time, he was completing some much over-due work, headphones over his ears which drowned out the chatter of the mindless teenagers around him. But it also drowned out Y/n. He was utterly unaware of her presence. Had he been, he probably would have made an effect to catch a glimpse of eye contact for the third time today. Alas, Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Without alerting her friends, she gathered herself from the table she was seated at and wandered over to Tate's. She didn't say anything till she sat in the chair across from him. Still with his music blasting, Tate had no idea of his new company. Well, not until she carefully snatched his Biology book from under him. Then his head snapped upwards, instantly flashing a smile as his gaze found Y/n.

"Ooo," She hummed as she took his text book, "Biology, must be a rough day."

He tucked his headphones off, letting them sit around his neck. "It's not that bad." He shrugged; certainly not his least favourite subject there was.

"Have to argue with you on that one." She quirked, sliding the book back towards him.

"Really? You struggling with an academic subject? Doesn't sound like you." He spoke as if he knew her ever so deeply.

She leaned in slightly, finding her chin fitting in the cup of her palm as she stared affectionately to the boy seated across from her. "And who told you that?" She questioned.

"Well, your mom told mine that you're an exceptional student." He chuckled with his words.

"That is true, except for biology." Y/n explained before a cheeky glint emerged in her eyes. "You know, if you'd be happy to, you could always help me out a little." She was testing the waters. She wasn't sure what had happened that day at the bus stop, but it had flickered some light in her which was still crackling and urging for more.

Tate laughed again, his doe-eyes meeting hers, "I can't believe you're asking me for help." He paused and her smile grew. "But, of course, I'll help you."

And so they arranged a time the next day to study over the subject. They met after school at her house. Despite being neighbours for a good few years, Tate had never in fact been at Y/n's house. But, as he was directed up stairs to her bedroom, he remembered thinking that it was exactly as he had expected it to look. Especially, when it came to her room.

"Do you have your text books?" Questioned Tate as they sat at either end of the bed, soon becoming surrounded by papers.

Y/n played in with knitted brows as she listen intently to the blond boy explain the carbon cycle. A topic which was easily a boring one, yet Y/n was more enticed than ever. "Do you get it?" Tate asked, seemingly snapping her out of her awe.

She nodded, "Pretty much yeah." Tate didn't reply. Instead, he plastered on an adoring smile as their eyes intertwined with one another. "What?" Y/n finally giggled when the silence went on for too long.

"You just-" He looked away for a moment. "You stare a lot." He looked back. Their smiles never faded.

The girl shrugged, "I like how you explain things." There was a glint glistening in her pupil that left Tate questioning what was about to follow.

She was already leaning in when Tate responded, "That's a good thing, I guess." He never shuddered as she got closer. Yet, he could never excuse the shivers which electrocuted his spine as their lips finally touched.

They pulled from one another, their foreheads lingering, yet not daring to touch. Tate still had his eyelids closed when Y/n opened hers. He was savouring the moment. Even if he knew the feelings were certainly reciprocated. Once they finally flickered open, Y/n admitted, "I actually have an A in Bio."

They both giggled. They both knew this wasn't the last. That, despite her A in Bio, there would be more study dates, more kisses and they would become more than just neighbours.

Everything - @alexxavicry @Emily-roberts @starrryskiees @m4nulup1n Want to get notified next time I post? Click here to get added to a taglist!

#tate #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x y/n #tate x reader #tate imagine #tate langdon oneshot #tate langdon fanfic #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs x reader #american horror story #american horror story fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #imagine

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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year

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Riding Tates face, but the boys so turned on he also cums in his pants. ❤️ I love your acc sm

You kept yourself up right with the support of Tate’s chest, the accelerated beating of his heart pounding through his skin and into your palms. His wet lips and tongue lapped at your sopping folds, one of his hands reaching upwards to knead your left breast. He was a moaning, spluttering mess under you, as your hips rut upwards every time he’d slide his tongue inside you.

“Tate, my god, that feels so fucking good,” you couldn’t contain your praise, and Tate couldn’t get enough of it. His cock pulsed behind the confines of his boxers, his toes curling with every lewd compliment that left your parted lips. He devoured you, lips wrapping around your clit and suckling on it gently.

Everything about it felt so intoxicating, and soon he’d formed a tiny wet patch where beads of pre-cum began to stain his boxers.

Every low moan that was elicited from Tate shuddered through your tense body, every minute of his pleasurable assault pushing you closer to your sweet release.

“Tate- fuck- I’m cumming.”

Your declaration had Tate chasing your orgasm, his lips swollen and his tongue aching as they expertly worked at your pussy.

When you came, Tate couldn’t contain himself any longer, revelling in the way your moans laced with profanity circulated the room, and the way your thighs shook around his head.

You didn’t have to touch him, not even once, for Tate to release himself, coating the insides of his boxers in a warm puddle of his seed. You groaned at the sight, letting Tate pepper kisses down your inner thighs between soft pants as you watched the last few twitches of his thick cock.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Tate muttered against your pussy, “everything about you is just so fucking pretty.”

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dangeroustaintedflawed · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆

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rainthespiritual · 27 days

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Tate Langdon spicy headcannons since I'm 18

if you aren't 18 or over please leave, this is ADULT CONTENT and I better hear 0 shit abt Tate being young or a teen he's a mf ghost and has been since 1993 so SHUT IT

btw I didn't just turn 18 I did a while ago just felt like naming the post that..

anyways this is for all my horny motherfuckers out there ♡ enjoy 😉

GONNA SAY IT AGAIN YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED THIS IS CONTENT SPECIFICALLY MADE FOR THOSE 18 AND OVER

Tate deffinetly gives me switch vibes he basically just wants to do whatever you wanna do

he loves pleasing and making you feel good it's his #1 goal and if he doesn't he will feel shitty until he makes it right..

he hates the idea of hurting you like he doesn't want to slap you hard or go too hard on you because seeing you in pain makes him feel super guilty

he might be into a little choking or some love taps but he's CONSTANTLY asking you if what he's doing is okay

"that won't hurt you right?"

"are you sure baby?"

"I guess if it's okay with you..."

CONSENT IS SEXY YALL AND TATE AGREES

overall he's just a big sweetheart about everything and we love him for that

you had to teach him about safewords and it kind of confused him at first but he got the hang of it

"so I stop when you say that?"

"but what if you say stop i don't stop? just when you say... okay got it"

"I'm still kinda confused actually can you explain it to me again?"

Let's just say the rubber suit he wears isn't just for killing people it's also for killing your pus-

KIDDING KIDDING 🤭

fr tho he'd definitely wear that I can just feel it 😐

AHHH HE'D MAKE A CRINGE ASS SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR YOU GUYS

"Tate I'm sorry but I'm not fucking you to deep throat by cupcake"

"why not 😔🥺"

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evanpetersmybf · 1 month

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All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one.

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!”

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready.

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?”

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago.

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy.

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary.

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do.

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint?

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course.

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant.

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!”

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say.

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?”

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again.

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!”

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to.

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe.

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth.

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday.

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class.

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged.

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes.

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were.

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible.

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real…

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself.

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likablenightmare · 6 months

Text

Making him submit // Tate x Fem Reader

(Reposted with all parts included)

Summary: sucking his pretty cock turns you on making you need him. Usually you submit to him but this time it’s different..

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, oral sex, sex in general… come on it’s Tate Langdon, duhhh.

Word count: 2k

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You hated sucking dick and you were never really good at it but with him it was different..with Tate you needed his pretty cock to be in your mouth. As you start to softly lick all around his cock he starts to let out little moans and it turns you on so much you start to suck on it while twirling your soft little tongue all round.. he grasps onto the sheets squeezing them hard, you’re so turned on by his excitement that your throat opens up and sundenly his whole cock is down your throat.. you’re deep throating him.

You have never been so turned on by giving head before but now you’re dripping wet… you want to keep hearing his moans and whimpers. “Mmm.. ahh. Your soft mouth w..with those pretty eyes staring at me..I’m going to cuuum.” You start to feel his cock twitching in your mouth and you’re desperate for his yummy cum. “Ahh, mmm.. I’m cumming!” He yelled as you feel his warm yummy treat fill your mouth. You are so turned on you swallow his cum and let out a little moan… you’re soaking wet.

You want more… you look at him and give him a sexy sweet smile. You wrap your lips back around his beautiful cock, he starts twitching because it’s sensitive from just orgasming. His eyes widen and he grabs onto the sheets again.. sweating with intense pleasure, he is breathing so heavy and making the cutest groans you have ever heard. “Ahh, yea. This feels way too good!” He says. Your tongue swirling and swirling as your sucking him and your pussy is throbbing for him.

Finally you get up and take off your panties and get into doggy position. He quickly rushes to fill you with his cock. As he desperately puts it in, you both let out a lil moan. He grabs onto your waste and is thrusting in and out of you like a maniac… so fast and hard that you can’t help but scream with pleasure.

As he pounds you, the sounds of him hitting against your ass made it that much hotter. “I love hearing myself clap against your perfect ass,” he said. Lucky for you, you already made him cum so he will last long while he fucks you.

You’re starting to shake because feeling him in you makes you weak with pleasure. You turn your head looking behind you to see his face and watch him pump in and out of you… his eyes are glossy as if he is about to cry from how good it feels, his cheeks are turning pink, and there is sweat dripping from his forehead. He bites his bottom lip to hold in a moan as you look into his pretty brown eyes. He flips you onto your back and gets on top of you while making intense eye contact.

Tate leans his head down to yours and starts making out with you as you moan into each others mouths. You both twirl your tongues together and it feels like absolute heaven… he spits into your mouth and licks your tongue so you can both share his spit. As you start to cum, your pussy is throbbing on his cock. He whispers into your ear, “yesss, cum for me.”

You reward him for making you cum by telling him he is a good boy. You get on top of him and ride his cock..hard. As your riding him like he is your bitch, using all your strength and weight, you can feel it allll the way inside of you. Usually you completely submit to him but this time its different.

You put your hands around his neck choking him making him whimper like a submissive dog.. he is completely surrendered to you. He can’t stop moaning as you start to nibble and suck on his neck. He whines “,Uuugh , yess… mmm don’t stop.” Of course you weren’t going to stop. It felt too good seeing him be surrendered to you.

You tell him to sit up and he does exactly what you ask. Instantly, sitting up with those submissive eyes. You’re on top of him, hugging your arms around him, you start to give him scratches all over his sexy back. You’re nibbling on his neck softly and then you start sucking his neck hard as you are bouncing on top of him, leaving hickeys all over his neck.

He won’t try to hide the hickeys you give him later on because he is so proud to be yours. Something about him sitting up while you are sitting on top of him facing each other with your arms wrapped around each other is so incredibly intimate..

After you completely covered his neck with hickeys, you get a great idea… you remember there are some old ropes in the basement and you want to use them to tie Tate up so you can have complete control. You tell him to wait right there and not to move. He says, “okay.. whatever you ask I’ll do,” in a soft sexy voice. You quickly run down the stairs to the basement and grab the ropes.

You get back to your room and he’s sitting there in the exact same position you left him in, like a good boy. You tell him to lay down and put his arms up by the railing of the bed and start tying his wrists around it while he is looking at you submissively with his dark eyes. After he is all tied up you start to gently lick and suck on his neck.. his weakness. He starts to twitch desperately. You smile at him mischievous. “Please give me your pussy.. please?” He whines. You say ”not yet”.. he softly whispers, “please?” He is so cute when he begs, so you want to make him beg more.

Slowly, you run your hands down his abs, getting closer and closer to his pretty cock and right as you’re about to get to it you stop. He lets out a frustrated moan. You start to lightly touch his cock and giving it soft little kisses.. you give it one good lick then grab onto it with your hands for a couple of seconds. He looks sooo so hot when he is frustrated. He complains, “please don’t stop, please? It feels so good… I’ll be good for you. I’ll do whatever you want!”

You’re starting to become even more wet. You didn’t know how fun it was to make a guy beg for it! You say, “okay baby, I’m going to make you cum so good!” You get on top of his cock and only let the tip into your pussy. “Ahhh,” you both moan at the same time.

Going up and down slowly but only letting the tip slip in and out, not only teasing him but yourself too. But that kind of frustration feels so unbearably good. Unbearable in the sense that you can’t hold back any longer but you need to hear him beg for you just one more time. “P-pleaase, ugh it feels sooo good.. please let it go all the way inside of you! Please I- mmm I can’t take it anymore. I need to feel all myself inside of you! Please,” he begs as youre slowly going up and down on his tip. Finally you give him what you both want.

You’re going all the way up and all the way down on his cock but still at a nice and slooow pace. “Thank you!” He says with blushing cheeks as if he is embarrassed for begging and being so desperate. As you’re riding him you start to choke him with your hands around his neck and he lets out a choked up moan as his eyes start to roll back as if he died again but this time went to heaven.

You spit into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted and sticks his tongue out for more. You spit into his mouth again and put your fingers down his throat to play with his soft tongue as he suck on your fingers. You can feel his cock throbbing as he starts to cum. It didn’t matter if he came in you because you are both already dead! One of the plus sides of being a ghost.

As he is pumping cum into you, you start to orgasm too. There is nothing like cumming at the same time while his warm sweet syrup fills you up. After you both finish, Tate almost instantly falls asleep despite his wrists being tied up to the railing of the bed. You wore him out! It’s as if he finds comfort in being possessed by you. He didn’t mind sleeping that way because you make him feel safe. You lay your head on his chest and start to fall asleep as you listen to his soft breaths. You both fall into a nice deep sleep.

The sun starts to come up and peak through the blinds. You open your eyes and look at Tate. You look down and see his cock. Tate is still asleep but part of him is awake. You slowly start to trace your hands down his abs and grab onto his cock. You wake him up in his favorite way possible. He starts to moan as you lick all the way down his tummy until you make it to his delicious cock. You wrap your mouth around it twriling your tongue around. “What a pleasant way to wake up,” he says. “Hmmm ahhh.. y-yesss! Don’t stop!”

You start to deep throat him and he is already about to cum. He cums all the way down your throat and asks you to untie him. You get up and untie his wrists and as soon as he is let loose, he grabs you and lays you on the bed positioned exactly how he wants you. He licks your stomach allll the way down as you did to him and makes his way to your pussy.

He starts licking and licking. It feels soooo good. He’s looking up at you into your eyes as you moan his name. He starts to softly suck and the continues licking. He slips his finger into you and starts going in and out hard and fast hitting all the right spots.

Tate gets on top of you and puts his cock where it’s meant to be. The bed is shaking and loudly thumping the ground from how hard he is pounding you. It feels so so deep in missionary. Now it’s his turn again to dominate you. He puts one hand around your neck and the other one on top of the railing of the bed so he can get a grip to fuck you as hard as possible.

Tate looks so fucking hot above you. He has fucked you hard before ,but you didn’t know it was possible to be fucked this hard. It’s so rough it hurts but it hurts sooo good. You’re moaning so loud as he calls you a good girl laying there and taking his dick. “Don’t stop! Right there!” You yell. You cum all over his cock as your legs twitch. Your pussy is so sore from all the sex you’ve been having so you give him a hand job to finish him off.

Hand jobs might sound boring to some ,but you loved playing with his cock in your hands and staring into his eyes, especially after you guys are both worn out! After you make him cum you both go downstairs and he makes you your most favorite breakfast ever! Pancakes!

Fucking him is the most amazing thing in the world but so are his pancakes. You thank him, “Yummy, I really appreciate these! My favorite.” he smiles and kisses your forehead. How lucky you are to find someone just a psycho but just as in love as you are!

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