#violet harmon x tate langdon

[l4v3nd3r-bl00d]

little compilation of screencaps for u all! i am soon going to post some pictures of the new vi exacts i got in the mail, so stay tuned! love u all! - kittie😸🐾❤️

[nolovelingers]

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

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

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

——————————————————————————

 SFW !!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NSFW !!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

[bluerthanvelvet444]

°✵.｡.✰ 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖, 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: fluff! super fluff!

warnings: none. no use of y/n.

summary: reader has trouble sleeping due to the hot temperature.

character count: 5k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

She glanced at the old-fashioned clock that sat on her nightstand.

2.25 AM.

Damn it. She snorted and turned in her bed multiple times, rolling on her side to try desperately to get some relief and possibly some sleep too. It was a hot summer night, mid-July. Typical you'd say, but the warmth of that specific night was unbearable. Beads of sweat danced on her skin and fell down into the mattress. She huffed, fed up. She felt trapped in that heated room, her skin fusing with the thin sheets underneath her. She so desperately needed something, but what?

She abruptly got up-which caused her to feel slightly dizzy- and opened her door and window, in hope to get even the slightest chilly and fresh breeze of the night. "Useless" she thought. She walked towards the bed again and plopped onto it. She was now laying in a star position on the bed. Open arms, open legs, and most importantly- open wide eyes, staring at the ceiling waiting for the shadows to clear so that she could get up and live another day. Nothing. The darkness stayed dark. Not a single movement was captured by her eyes. Not a single sound heard. The room was completely silent, the only noise a bit more distinguishable was her breathing. The steady rhythm that caused her chest to rise up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Up and dow-

“You should take a shower. You're all sweaty.”

That unmistakable voice rang through her ears. Tate. Tate Langdon. One of the many ghosts that haunted that hellhole of a house. He was the most annoying one. She could almost hear the shit-eating smirk, that he always had on his stupid face, just by the way he spoke. She hated it. She sighed and plopped on her elbows.

“You should knock on the door before entering. It's common sense, and you might find an unpleasant scene.”

“You left the door open. Anyone could've seen your 'unpleasant scene.' So what's the matter? Can't sleep?”

She rolled her eyes at the rhetorical question he asked. She despised it. That tone in his voice, like he always found everything a stupid thing to joke and be cocky about.

“It's too hot in here. My skin's melting.”

He grinned in his usual teasing way. He was wearing his striped sweater, the sight of it only was making her sweat.

“Sounds fun. Do you need help?” He asked, with that same monotone voice.

“Help with what? Melting?”

“Sleeping.”

Oh. He wanted to help. He wanted to help? Was he stupid or what? Well, yes, anything impossible could be possible in the Murder House, but it's not like he could magically change the temperature and make it all better. Couldn't he?

“And how exactly would you do that?”

She saw the tiniest grin form on his mouth. He gave her a slight chuckle and crawled on the-what used to be his-bed.

“C'mere.”

Pardon? Come where? Did he want her to sit on his lap or something? Uhhhh weird. Super weird. She was confused, sure, but what else could she do? Stick her head in the refrigerator and hope none of the trapped souls would take advantage of her? No, thanks. She rolled her eyes and scooted slightly closer to him.

“So? What's the plan?”

He chuckled.

God, that stupid laugh.

He reached out with his hand to touch her, but before he could do that, she raised her brow and scooted away.

“What the hell are you trying to do?”

“It's gonna make it better...do you trust me?”

“No.”

“That's the only choice you have.”

“...Fine.”

She scooted back to her previous spot next to him and, with a hesitant and unsure expression on her face, she watched his hand come closer and eventually rest on her shoulder.

Cold.

His hand was cold.

Of course it was. He was dead, after all. Why hadn't she thought about this earlier?

She sighed and unconsciously leaned into his touch, closing her eyes at the feeling of relief she was so badly seeking and finally found. He smiled and motioned for her to come closer. She nodded and crawled a bit closer so that she was sitting between his legs and her back was pressed up against his cold chest. His arms wrapped gently around her waist, his cold hand grazing slightly her exposed tummy.

“Better?”

“So much better.”

She sighed contentedly. Finally.

That chilly feeling was something she could've gotten addicted to. This is why a more lucid version of her would've slapped her as soon as she said the following words.

“Thank you.”

She mumbled, drunk off the cold feeling. Even though she couldn't see it, Tate's lips curled in a small smile, and with a deep, caring voice he spoke.

“Anything for you.”

She was obviously sleepy, and her mind had clearly drifted off to better places, so she probably never acknowledged the words that came out of his mouth. Or maybe she did, but she was too stubborn to admit that his stupid smile, his icky laugh, his mocking tone, were starting to grow on her, and she could've possibly gotten used to falling asleep to them. After all, she hated it…how hard loving him was. Tate Langdon, the sweetest ghost in the house, once the mysterious and cocky facade he put on was scraped away.

The last thing she heard was a smacking lips sound due to his frozen lips pressing gently over her forehead. Or maybe she also heard a faint “I love you”. Who knows?

Anything in the Murder House is possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Autor's note: aaaahhhhhh this is the first fic I've ever writtennnnn!!! this took me sooo long. I'm really getting into writing so if you have any ideas or prompts about what I should write next, feel free to suggest! hope you like it, i put my whole self in this (especially with the grammar!!)💙💙

join my taglist!!

all rights reserved!!

[emmalandry]

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

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟙𝟝 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕪 ℍ𝕦𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘

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

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

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕓𝕝𝕖༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bulletswithribbons]

Loving and fearless

TateLangdonxFem!reader // NSFW

Summary: You find out your boyfriend is a mass murderer. He's worried about what you will think of him but he never knew you weren't a good girl from the very start.

Warnings: Smut (obv), unprotected piv, sex with feelings, implied murder...

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: Ok so sorry I took really long to write a new fic I was working on a Part 2 for my Kai one but then thought of this. Had to write it down to satisfy my pookies since I didn't take so long writing it. Basically why it's short.

𝕱𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖈 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖙 ⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚

“Are you scared?” He asks. He wasn’t trying to hide it, nor deny it. He just wanted you to accept it as it is. He was no saint, but so weren’t you. No sugarcoating things for this once at least.

You shook your head slowly, “no.” You said, and it wasn’t a lie. At least yet. You weren’t afraid of him, you knew him better than anyone. Or maybe that’s what you chose to believe. You didn’t want to change anything about him or live in a deluded world of your own thinking of him as someone he isn’t. As fucked-up as it sounds, you liked that psychopathic trait of his.

Tate tilts his head partly to the side, daring you to say that thing you were desperate to.

“I doubt it,” he replied, regret somehow dripping from his tone. You knew he didn’t regret shooting up his school nor all the murders he committed, rather of the way you found out. He had already apologized, what else would you need? Him to get on his knees and beg you to forgive him? He would gladly do that.

“I want you to embrace it,” you finally said, the thought lingering in your head for a while now. You just didn’t know how to express it without sounding like a weirdo. 

“Embrace it?” He repeats after you, confused, a hint of surprise in his voice.

You nod.

“You killed them. There’s nothing you can do about it anymore. You’re troubled Tate. Stop hiding that side and accept it as a part of you. You can’t run away from your past and you being trapped here actually proves my point.” Your tone was comforting, all loving. You were one of the very few –the only one– that actually cared about him in a non-twisted way. He wasn’t ready to lose that. He would never be.

“But would you accept it as a part of me? You want me to go around killing people and then come back to you so you can clean the blood of others from my own hands?” He asks, his voice quavering, a bit shaky and unclear, he was upset and you knew he's on the verge of crying.

And Bingo. There it is. Those poor souls, he doesn’t care about them, but rather what you would think. Nothing matters as long as you’re still there standing by his side. Was it unhealthy? Maybe. But for you it only made your relationship stronger.

“Isn’t that what you would like?” You ask, your hand darting to his face brushing his blonde strands of hair away from his face as you cup his cheek.

A single tear runs down his cheek as he smiles lightly. His dimples looked more adorable than ever. All he ever wanted was to be appreciated. And he is.

The sight of him taking two steps closer to you had your heart speeding up, even though he's your boyfriend you can't help but feel like a silly little girl with a silly little crush. Except it wasn't little, nor silly. His hand grips at your waist as he pulls you to him, getting rid of every inch that separates your bodies. His head tilts slightly before he attacks your face with his lips embracing yours in a hungry lustful open-mouthed kiss.

Your hands quickly find the back of his neck, pulling him even closer and deepening the kiss while his tongue pushes through and fights yours for domination.

He was completely teasing you, or maybe not, maybe he just craved you so bad. His covered erection was tempting your core, begging for release. One of his hands slides down your shirt and cups your boob, squeezing tightly. A soft moan escapes your lips and onto the kiss.

At that time, you thought maybe a somewhat evil spirit took over your boyfriend as he aggressively pinned you against the wall, too impatient to hop on the bed. But you know it was no evil spirit. There was no need to keep on finding why’s to his actions.

He yanks your shorts down to your knees then grips at your thigh lifting it up to his hip, probably to get better access. Meanwhile his other hand unzips his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers freeing his rock hard dick. Yeah now it's confirmed that it was to gain better access. Tate always gets hard easily, that was a fact you knew. Whether it was a silly little cuddle session or you whispering the randomest topics in his ear. It didn’t bother you, you actually loved it. It enthralled you.

Your arms wrap around his neck while his breath fans against your nape. Each passing second your pussy screams for him to fuck the shit out of you even louder.

His digits found their way to your inner thigh, trailing toward your center. Once they reach your clit, his pointer finger runs up and down the thin soaked fabric of your underwear. He taps on the wet spot a few times, teasing you or maybe to later remember how desperate you were for him inside you. “This is my way of thanking you, y/n.” He whispers in your ear, your body shuddering at the sound of his voice, excitement surging through your entire temple. Every second passing by the atmosphere gets even hotter.

You nod, “mhm.”

His finger curls at the edge of your panties pulling it to the side, baring your pussy to him and the arousal glistening within.

Tate leans over you even closer, capturing your soft skin between his teeth sucking in deep; while he uses a hand to line his cock up to your dripping entrance. His tip caresses your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m not waiting any longer,” He mutters under his breath to your ear as he pushes himself deeper into your cunt and slams into you. 

Tate has never ever hidden the fact that he craves you desperately. You loved that he would kill for you but hated how you would too.

You let out a loud moan, if he didn’t know you any better he would’ve thought that was a scream for help. Your hand grabs a fistful of his hair. Your moan made him groan quietly. He loved the sound of you squirming beneath him, and even the sound of your voice when you talk about anything no matter what it was. He couldn’t stop himself, of course not since he couldn’t even wait to hear you screaming his name. Your legs curl around his hips as he thrusted in you deeper, moaning uncontrollably as he feels your tight warm wet walls wrapped around his thick length. “My cock.. Is pure love..” He breathes out. Your eyes hardly widen, Tate isn’t used to dirty talking. Not at all. If anything he was actually nice and making sure you’re ok nearly between every two thrusts. Unless he was jealous or upset with you. But mostly that’s it. Your eyes barely stay wide for 2 seconds before they roll to the back of your head once his tip hit a spot in you that made your moans louder than they already were. “Oh fuck, Tate!” You scream, He slides out slightly then back in forcefully. He didn’t recognize mercy, and your pussy wasn’t getting any of that. His cock pounding into you merciless, unsympathetically, inhumanly. All of the above. Abusing that same specific spot of yours. 

His intense tightening in his chest made him hungry for air as he breathed heavily, humping you remorselessly. Your pussy swallowing every inch of him and lubricating like crazy, your own arousal leaking down your pussy and out to your thighs. Such a slut you are for him. Problem is you were shameless about it.

Your grip on his hair tightens, holding on as hard as you can but making sure not to hurt him. You would never. Soft moans are whispered in your ear as he presses his mouth a little harsher against your skin, his fingers tightening on your thighs. His lips trailing kisses up and down your neck, leaving small bites here and there as he slowly makes his way up to your jaw. His hands slide up your thighs and stop at your clit, rubbing it as if his life depends on it, all the while his hips are pounding into you as fast as they can. You arch your back involuntarily immediately once you feel the contact. He groans softly as he feels your arch into his touch, his fingers going inhumanly faster than before. 

Seeing how it is, it wouldn't be long for you until you came.

Shockwaves of pure pleasure began to ripple throughout your body. Legs trembling and eyes rolling back. Your face was bright red and a wheezing sound came out of your mouth with every inhale. The perfect combination of his fingers stroking your clit and the fast paced abuse on your cunt was enough to make you see stars. He was chasing his own release and you were begging for yours. You knew you were close.. Real close.. “Tate.. Please.. I’m so fucking close..” You whimper, not knowing what exactly you were begging him for. Tate knows your body well enough to know you were close, he speeds up. Judging by his breathing, you can tell he was getting tired. You let out your moans freely as you feel your orgasm crashing down. A complete mess leaking down your thighs. You can’t hold your back arch anymore but it didn't matter, waves of ecstasy and euphoria taking over your body. Tate wasn't done yet, and although your lips were already burning up, you didn't protest. “Hmph..I love you,” He moaned in between thrusts as they were getting erratic, feeling you cum around his cock was enough for him. But that didn’t stop him from abusing your swollen red cunt until he was fully finished. Tate thrusts into you for a moment longer before you feel his ejaculate drowning your pussy breathing heavily, his release splaying across your walls in ropes. Tears had stained your cheeks.

Tate had you still pinned against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands grabbing your thighs. His now softened dick still in your abused pussy. Why isn’t he pulling out yet? This is the first time he lasted this long. Usually he doesn’t stay so long.

His head was resting on your shoulder, nose burried into your neck. His breathing slowed down steadily and went back to normal.

It felt weirdly comforting.. Him being so close, you didn’t even want him to pull out. Your legs still crossed behind your boyfriend’s back.

“You want me to pull out?” He whispers to you lovingly as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face and tugs it behind your ear.

“No, let’s stay this way for a while..” Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close. You can feel him nodding.

[wheelernancy]

TATE & VIOLET in AHS: MURDER HOUSE ⏤ 1.03, “Murder House”

[redroses07]

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.

[t4tesgirl]

We love we stan

[osmopi]

Halloween with tate langdon ...

[fear-is-truth]

[l4v3nd3r-bl00d]

finally got around to buying vi’s outfit from apocalypse!

the whole outfit only cost me $110 AUD all together including shipping! #bargainhunter😈🙏 AND the dress is brand new with the tag still attached & spare button! i’ve been really lucky this year at finding exacts for cheap so i hope this streak lasts lol! love u all hope u enjoy this silly video hehe - kittie 😸❤️🐾

[violet-harmon2011]

[evanpeterswifeyyy]

!!Mini Rant!!

Am I the only one whose pet peeve in the AHS fandom is people infantalizing and treating Kyle like a toddler?

I get he’s supposed to be a little mentally behind because of his botched resurrection, but from what I picked up on when watching Coven, Kyle is still completely there, he just can’t communicate and is rightfully confused after being brought from the dead with no prior knowledge of magic or witches. Like, he’s thrown back onto Earth after literally dying, is sown up with parts of his friends and is witnessing unexplainable events while also trying to cope with the fact that he died and currently can’t communicate for some unknown reason.

From what I gathered, Kyle still has his memories and personality in tact. You can see he knows who his mother is when she drags him inside the house when Zoe first drops him off. And he clearly remembers being assaulted by her before she touches him and he gets fed up with it and fights back because at that point he has no other choice. He also clearly remembers Zoe from the party when she comes back after Misty Day heals him. (Edit: after rewatching for the 50th time, there’s a clear instance where Kyle remembers his friends clearly and recognizes their tattoos on his body and freaks out even though they never told him about that. So yeah.) And after he’s fixed and regains his speech, he acts the same as Kyle before, just obviously with a newer knowledge of witches and the violence that ensues in the season. I’d say he’s a little more primal because he was still a zombie, but he’s not a child.

And it’s one thing to headcannon him that way or come to that conclusion personally, but then to write SMUT based around that idea??? Like I’ve seen so many people write fanfics of Kyle being completely oblivious to sex when he clearly knows exactly what it is. He has sex multiple times in the season and seems completely capable. And if I’m right about him still having his memories, he obviously does know.

I’m not one to kink shame, but I feel like sometimes his mental incapacities are taken too far. Especially when they are sexualized. I’m all for a submissive and needy men, but not when he’s written as a literal ipad baby. Please tell me I’m not the only one pissed off by this because I’m so tired of it 😭😭😭

[bluerthanvelvet444]

‧₊˚♫ ⋅* ‧₊✮𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✮‧₊˚ ⋅*♫ ˚₊⋅

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: smut with a plot and some fluff.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of a switch!Tate, oral (f receiving), dry humping, p in v.

summary: Tate encounters a Tumblr girl. (Inspirated a lot by the song I linked under.)

character count: 12k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

2014.

Tate had never really cared about looking ‘stylish’ or ‘fitting in’ when he was alive. He had his own style, which wasn’t trendy nor one of a kind just…his. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to believe he was cool, mostly because the girls that were attracted to him were just as fucked up as him and the popular ones tended to ignore him.

Ironical how that changed in his afterlife, once he saw you. After dying, Tate’s time was spent either with the other trapped souls or by himself. Hardly ever people moved in the Murder House, and whether they did, they were a low-budget couple in their 40s. So Tate’s knowledge of the modern outside world was poor and lacking, especially when it came to his ‘peers’. That’s why when you first moved in the house, Tate was stunned, if not flabbergasted even.

You were struggling with carrying your heavy luggage, muttering curses as the wind blew your colorful hair in your eyes. The first word that came in Tate’s mind as he watched you from the front window was “cool.”

He spent the first days of your sojourn watching you from afar, admiring the way you acted. Tate found out the way you styled your outfits in the fashionable way, how you talked to your friends in slangs and how you spent your evenings taking pictures on your polaroid and on a glowing little box, that for some strange reason you called phone, to post (that’s the term you used) on a little blue icon marked with a white t. He didn’t know what was considered popular now, but he was sure you belonged in that category, judging by the way you looked and the way your pictures had high numbers under them whenever you uploaded them. He needed wanted to approach you, and the perfect opportunity showed up when he saw you type on your glowing box:

“PARTY in the MURDER HOUSE tonite!! >_< :33!!”

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

The house had never been so full of alive people having fun. The doors were open, colorful lights were shining and high volume music was blasting. Tate tried blending in, although the more he looked around the more he felt…lame. The drunk teens around him were all different from each other, and none of them matched his vibe. And he even wore his favorite sweater!

Still, he had nothing to lose, so he took a deep breath and searched for you in the crowd. Tate made his way past people as they pushed him to the left and to the right. It felt weird to be seen, to be touched. He found you circled by people asking questions about the house. Was it haunted? Were there ghosts? All of which you answered with a simple “No.”.

“Of course there aren’t any ghosts, I’m keeping them away from you.” Tate thought. Since he was too nervous to actually take a few steps and start a conversation with you, he figured he’d get some punch, just to loosen up a bit. He walked towards the punch bowl, and as soon as he reached to grab a cup, his hand met yours. You both grabbed the same solo cup.

“Sorry! You can have it.” You giggled as you let him take the cup. Tate blinked a few times, eyes locked to your bright smile, before grabbing the cup and filling it up. “Be cool, Tate. Don’t mess it up.” He thought.

“Uh. So…this is your party, right?” He gulped, eyes darting around the house as if he didn’t know every single inch of it by heart.

“Yes! Thought it would’ve been fun to host a party in a so-called Murder House. Plus, this house is giant, it gets lonely after some time…You live near here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” You smiled.

“Oh…yeah. My name’s Tate. I live nearby.” Tate’s eyes trailed upon your figure, he had never been able to see you from so close. You simply nodded, sipping from your cup. He cleared his throat.

“You know…I used to live in this house.” He added nonchalantly, trying so hard to sound interesting.

“Really?! No way!” Your giggles rang in his ears.

“Mhm. You probably noticed some of my things still laying around in my bedroom. No one has stepped in since I last did.” He nodded.

“Oh, do you wanna see? Maybe there’s something you left that you want back.” You replied, slightly raising your voice so that it could be heard over the music.

“I uh-There’s no need t-” He was interrupted by you grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs anyways. You opened the door of the bedroom and kicked out a couple that was making out on your bed.

“Ugh!! I should’ve locked the door!” You exclaimed, closing the door behind you two. Tate looked around, some of your things were laying around, but it was mostly all his.

“Dude you left everything here!” You giggled. Tate forced out a chuckle, everything was of course still there, since he ‘lived’ there normally and never moved.

“Yeah, uh…Guess I left in a hurry.” He muttered awkwardly and grabbed some of his Nirvana CDs.

“There they were…!” He pretended as if he didn’t just play them everyday before you came.

“CDs? Didn’t you use an IPod or something?” You gave him a confused look.

“Oh uh…no, I prefer CDs.” He nodded, as if he knew what an IPod was.

“You don’t use your phone?” You asked, raising up your glowing box.

“No, I…don’t have one.” He gulped.

“Damn, how do you handle that? I could never live without Tumblr or Instagram.” You chuckled.

“...Yea, um…just not my thing, y’know?” He cleared his throat, trying his best to change the subject.

“Oh, yea. I’ve met some people like that. I envy y’all, y’know? Tumblr’s literally addicting to me. Can’t help it though, love when people comment nice stuff and see you as inspiring, y’know?” You chuckled, sitting down on his your bed.

“Uh…can’t really relate. I’ve always been pretty invisible.” He shrugged.

“Oh…you don’t seem so bad. I like the whole grungy vibe.” You grinned, pointing to his outfit.

“Oh- uh…thank you.” He hoped it was a good thing to be ‘grungy’...or whatever you said.

“Yea, looks good on you. Doesn’t really fit me tho.” You giggled.

“You’d look gorgeous in anything.” Was what Tate wanted to say, but he didn’t wanna push his luck too far, so he just forced a shy chuckle.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

You spent something like 30 minutes just laughing and getting to know each other while laying on the bed. During this whole time, he couldn’t help but think about how breathtaking you were: your smile, your eyes, your body, your personality, your whole being. You were perfect. Perfect for him. He found himself to be completely mesmerized by you, he needed you to be his, he needed you to make him feel loved, alive. He wondered how you did it, how ever since the first second you spent next to him, his heart started beating for the first time since he died. His body felt warm, his skin didn’t feel so cold anymore, he started breathing again. He was addicted to this feeling, so he did the only reasonable thing he would’ve done if he was actually alive, he gently grabbed your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. Everything felt just better after he kissed you, as if after that whole hell he had been through he finally reached paradise. He felt even more surprised when you kissed back, your lips moving in sync with his. He moved to lay on top of you, balancing his weight so he didn’t crush you, his lips never leaving yours as his fingertips danced across your body. His tongue slipped in your mouth, swirling around yours in a passionate dance. He let out some deep throaty groans, he felt his desire grow as it coursed through his veins. He needed to feel you, so he deepened his kisses. When you moved your lips down on his jaw and then his neck, he almost lost it. He felt embarrassed for moaning so much and basically becoming a mess under your touch, but he relaxed as soon as he felt your lips curling up in a smile against his skin. He moved on to devour your neck, grinning as he felt you moan now. His hands gripped every inch of your body.

“You’re so…beautiful…” He mumbled against your skin, grabbing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He looked up at you while tugging at your shirt, silently asking for consent to peel it off of you.

“You can take off whatever you want...” You winked, giving him a cute smile. He immediately peeled off both his and your clothes, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips worked hungrily on your collarbone, leaving marks that will most likely turn into hickeys the next day, then placed kisses on the valley between your breasts, a tiny whine leaving him when his fingers failed at desperately trying to undo the clasp of your bra.

You giggled and helped him, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor. He immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently while looking up at you with those brown puppy eyes of his. You smiled and twirled a strand of his blonde locks between your fingers, soft moans escaping your lips. He kept switching between sucking your left then right nipple, his hand groping the one he wasn’t attacking with his mouth. He felt himself getting harder as he felt the warmth radiating from your body, so while his mouth worked wonders, he desperately brushed his growing bulge from under his boxers on your leg. He let out some needy whines, and he couldn’t help but mutter sweet words against your skin as he lowered down to trail kisses on your tummy.

“So perfect f’me…” His words came out muffled as he trailed his kisses down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and then on the fabric of your panties. You moaned when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down, as his lips immediately worked on your clit.

“Ah…just like that Tate…don’t stop…” You moaned when he started to suckle gently, soft whines leaving his mouth as well. As he got more needy himself, his mouth lowered on your entrance, his tongue gently brushing against your wet folds, finally entering you after teasing you a slight bit. What you felt was pure bliss, unholy sounds leaving your lips every time his tongue sped up. When you looked down, you found Tate looking up at you with those brown doe eyes from between your legs, as he worked his magic. The sight only drove you to the edge, your moans getting louder as you came on his face. He groaned and cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure not to miss any single droplet of your cum.

“So good…you taste so fucking good…” He moaned into your ear, pressing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Wanna be inside of you…please? please let me…” He whined while rubbing his hard dick against your flesh. You nodded and just like that he didn't waste any more time, he abruptly pulled his boxer down, groaning as the cold air hit his shaft, and lined up with your entrance. While you were still coming down from your high after the intense orgasm, Tate pushed his dick inside of you slowly, moaning uncontrollably once he felt your tight walls clenching around him. You were relieved that this encounter happened when you threw a party, or every single soul nearby would’ve heard the throaty groans and moans leaving his lips.

“Mh…tight…so tight…so pretty-can I move please? I’ll be- ah…I’ll be careful-please-” He whined against your neck, as his blonde strands caressed your face gently. You agreed, and just like that he was thrusting in and out of you, first slowly, then at a steady pace. The room was filled with filthy moans, yours and his, and the repetitive sound of skin against skin, as your sweaty bodies were sliding one against each other. He felt like he was going insane as his mind couldn't help but focus on you and you only. Every moment was more pleasurable and he felt like he was closer and closer, so he muttered in your ear, still thrusting into you.

“Close…so close…don’t think i’m gonna last-ah…longer…please please please…want you to cum too…” He babbled as his brain turned into mush.

“Ah-! Mhm…m’close too…” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even more.

“Please-mh…cum on my dick? yeah? wanna feel you..please…” He whimpered, he felt like he couldn’t contain his upcoming orgasm. You couldn’t even respond as the repetitive brushing of his tip against your G-spot drove you to the edge. Letting out a loud moan, you came for the second time while he was still inside of you. That caused Tate’s eyes to roll back, his groans only filling the room as the feeling of your cum dripping on his length and your walls squeezing it, was too much to bear. He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, then he collapsed next to you.

He spent the next moments cuddling up against you, thinking about everything. His hands were playing with your hair, and when he looked down he found your eyes closed and your breath steady. He smiled at the sight, wanting every night of his afterlife to end like this and determined to make that happen. He kept placing sweet kisses on the top of your head, while he wondered how he was gonna explain to you that he died before Tumblr even existed.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @doll3tt33 @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @dykejugheadjones @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

a/n: rahhhh tate's such a loser needy boy. BTW spent sm time on this fic, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!! hope you like it! this is for my tumblr girlies🩷

all rights reserved!!

[vintage-marina]

"I know what you did."

summary: you found out what he's done

f!reader, but it isn't really specified

angst

TW: SA, school shooting basically everything what Tate did, fighting, screaming

words: 1103

@dreamsweetener

"He," pausing for a second you looked at Violet with a haunted expression. "He did what?"

With sad eyes Violet looked at you, the two of you standing in the guest room. Her foot was constantly tapping on the ground, her hands clammy. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/N."

She took a step forwards, she noticed the silent tears on your cheeks. Blewing out the air of your lungs you tried to calm yourself, a small sob left your body and before Violet could prepare herself you threw yourself in her arms.

"I should've told you earlier," she mumbled. Her chin was leaning on your shoulder, both you and Violet were holding eachother for 'dear life'.

"It's not your fault." reassuring her you stared blankly at the wooden closet. "I'm glad you told me although it's a bit late."

The both of you fell still, knowing that in the silence the both of you still held eachother dearly. The gears in your brain started working, with each passing second you became more and more angry at Tate.

"I think I have to talk to him, Vi." Slowly you let go of her, unclasping your hands from her vest.

"What are you going to say to him?"

"I," you wiped a few tears away. "Don't know."

"Don't do anything stupid, okay? Pinky promise me."

"I promise," the both of you hold out your pinkies and clasped them together.

Taking some deep breaths you left the room, anger following in your trails. Your heavy footsteps echoed through the house while your breathing was ragged.

You had to find him.

With an agressive swing you opened the door, to his old bedroom (that was now yours). The room was clattered with your clothing and make-up, your walls decorated with pictures and posters, but the room was empty. Letting out a huff of frustration, you slammed the door shut.

Realisation dawned on you that he probably knew what Violet had said, he must have hid himself. A few curse words left your lips and you pulled your hand over your face in frustration.

What the hell, Tate.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to be calm if you want to confront him, why did he have to shatter your heart like that? Slowly you opened your bedroomdoor again and stepped in your room, when you closed it you let your head hung on the door. A deep sigh escaped your lips and a soft sob followed through.

A deep sadness clung in your chest.

You slid down on the ground, your mascara was smeared on your cheeks and with shaky hands you tried to wipe the tears away. For a long, long time you sat like this.

Zoned out, you stared ahead of you.

Headache already forming.

"Tate?" You called out with a hoarse voice. "Please I-we need to talk."

Ignoring your call, Tate tugged at his hair while he mumbled inchorent things. Tears streamed on his cheeks and he sunk on his knees, you were going to leave him.

"Tate!" He heard you crying out, his dead heart shattered at the voice cracks. Why did Violet said something? At the thought of her name, a few more tears fell down.

Buring your head in your hands, your shoulders shook.

Was Vivien in pain during the act?

What did Tate say to his victims?

Were they in pain when they were murdered?

Is he going to hurt you too?

You were getting scared of him.

"Please don't leave me, Y/N," was all that you heard. You looked at him with tears in your eyes, his hair was all over the place and his eyes bright red from his cries. His hand tried to reach out for you and he walked towards you, trying to pull himself in your embrace.

His way to calm himself.

"Stay back," you said with all the strength you could muster. You couldn't trust him anymore. "What?" His face was full of disbelief, more tears brimmed up at the edge of his brown eyes. "Why?" Voice small he stared at the ground, watching his teardrops fell on the wooden floor. What he thought to himself was true, you didn't want him anymore.

Quickly you scrambled up, your arms clung protectively against your midriff. "Why?" you said slowly almost in disbelief. "Why Tate?"

He nodded and a small "yeah" escaped his lips.

"I don't," you took a deep breath and wiped with your hand your tears away. "I know what you did."

"I didn't mean to!" He screamed in desperation, waving his hands erratically. "You have to trust me, Y/N!"

"But I don't Tate! I don't!" you screamed back at him, with half swollen eyes you looked mistrustful at him. "You-you probably don't even regret it," a coldness was in your eyes.

Locking his brown eyes with the cold eyes of yours, he got goosebumps. Anger and panick flowed in his veins and in one swift motion he held your wrist, "That's not true."

You held your mouth firmly, seeing the stormy haze in his eyes you shrunk away. Violet hopefully was nearby, incase things went south. The storm was getting darker and darker and in frustration he screamed: "That not true! You know that's not who I am!"

Tears were still flowing on his cheeks and he shook at you, while his grip was getting stronger and stronger. Flinching you tried pulling your wrist out of his hand, "Let me go Tate," you mumbled voice barely a whisper.

But he didn't, he didn't let you go.

A grunt of pain escaped your mouth and your lungs went wheezing after the impact your back had on the wall. His hands were now on your shoulders and he sobbed in despair that he did regret it and that you shouldn't leave him.

Your head was trobbing and you whispered tearfully: "I don't know you anymore, Tate."

Brown eyes widening, he realised something that you didn't know. He knew you were afraid of him, "You know," his voice cracking slightly while his trembling hand cupped your cheek. Noticing the hitch in your breath, he saw you were trembling too. "I would never hurt you, ever."

You fluttered your eyes, closing only for a moment. Shaking off his hand of your cheek you embraced him while your heart was thundering in your ears. The blond boy melted in your arms and before he could pull you even tighter you whispered at the shell of his ear: "You just did."

"What?" He said again, he began sniffling. "When?"

You shook your head and your hand grapsed the doorknob, "You don't even realise it."

He watched in defeat when you walked out of the door, he didn't follow you. When he saw you leaving the ground out of the window, he curled himself up in a ball and cried in frustration.

[thevioletharmon]

The REAL Tate and Violet 💋