#american horror fanfic

[nightmare-niko]

Routines In The Night [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Warnings: alcohol consumption, vague-ish descriptions of clubbing, raw sex (don't do that), completely self-indulgent

A/n: i am just a girl and i cannot help the things my mind comes up with. also this is my first actual smut in years so lmk how I did hehehe

Word count: 2273

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

It's been quite a long time since you went out with your friends. Life gets in the way sometimes! But tonight, the stars have aligned, and all of your schedules lined up perfectly. You don’t remember being this excited to see your friends, but now you all were in your apartment getting ready for your night out.

"So I don’t know when the boys are gonna get here-“ your best friend; Violet sits on your bedroom floor, curling her hair. “But I think Evan said something about bringing a new friend?”

“Violet you can't just let strangers hang with us! What if he's a weirdo?!" You’re mostly joking. You knew your friends. Realistically you had nothing to worry about.

“What if he’s ugly?” your other Friend interjects.

“Oh my god! Hayley!” Violet chokes out a surprised laugh.

“What it’s a valid question!” She defends.

"I'm sure he will be completely normal." You try to expel the chaos beginning to build throughout your small apartment while the three of you continue to get ready.

•

An excessive amount of knocks on your door makes you jump.

You grumble obscenities on the way to open your door. "You know Evan- You don't have to—“ you stop in your tracks. Sure, there was Evan and your other friend Mike, but there was also a new guy—a beautiful guy. Was it suddenly getting hot in here??

"Oh okay drool much?" Evan jokes and you snap out of your man-induced trance.

“Hi, I'm Nick" he offers his hand for you to shake.

Your hand is quite small compared to his, but unlike most guys you’ve met, his hand is gentle. He certainly isn't trying to crush your hand (why do guys do that?). As the other guys walk into your apartment, Nicholas stays in your doorway with you as you introduce yourself,

“Come in! You have to meet the others!" You take his hand and lead him into your living room.

•

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the lights pulsed and changed erratically. You danced along to whatever generic set the DJ played, you honestly were too drunk to care. This is what you needed. While you and your girls danced carelessly with each other, the guys stayed back at your table.

All of them seemed pretty caught up in their drunken conversations. Not Nicholas though, no. His eyes had been on you the second you clambered onto the dance floor. You loved it.

You felt Violet's arm wrap around your waist, "are you gonna deal with that? " She borderline shouts in your ear to combat the loud music. "Who? Pretty boy over there?" You lock eyes with Nick across the room, he quickly looks away—taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe... you think you can get Hayley distracted so I can lure him ?"

She giggles and pulls away; you don't care how Violet was planning on making distance-- but you trusted her. With a sensual sway of your hips, you walk over to Nicholas. None of your other friends seem to notice your presence, not that you mind though.

"So, you gonna keep on staring or are you gonna dance with me?"

The man before you smirks, he takes you in quickly, "How about both?" He offers his hand to you. You take it gratuitously, even in your heels he had height over you. It was hot. Maybe it was the lights or the alcohol in your system-- or maybe both, but you had to have him.

To say the two of you were dancing was a stretch, to say the least… You wrap your arms around his neck, you were so not remembering this tomorrow at the rate you were going.

“How long were you going to sit there staring at me for?” Your question was light-hearted at best.

"Until I was blackout probably," He laughs shyly.

You laugh along with him, grinding along to the beat of the music, you could live this moment forever. "Usually everyone comes back to mine and sleeps over after clubbing. You down?”

He smiles, "Sure, why not.”

•

Somehow you managed to get all of your drunk friends back to your home safely. Now all you had to do was (try to) relax, you sneak away from all of your friends and into your bedroom.

It took you longer than usual to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas due to the drinks you had tonight, but you managed.

What time was it? You didn't know, your phone was dead!

Back in your living room, your friends lay sleeping (?) scattered around Violet and Hayley both still in their makeup and heels. You didn't dare wake them, they knew where your makeup wipes and extra clothes were. All you needed was your bed.

•

4 am. It was 4 am and you were wide awake. Wide awake with a raging headache, that is. You groan before tugging off your oh-so-comfortable blanket. The hardwood floors were cold against your bare feet-but you didn't care.

Stumbling to the kitchen through the darkness of your home was a situation you found yourself often, but now you had the added addition of staying quiet. The last thing you needed was more hungover zombies.

The moonlight from your open windows lit up your kitchen counter just enough for you to grab the nearest pain relief medicine and a drink in peace. Now here came the hard part-- walking back in the dark. Why didn't you bring your phone?!

The door of the bathroom swings open-- you gasp dramatically. "Jesus Nick! You fucking scared me,” you whisper yell at the taller man.

"Sorry! I had to— uh I didn't think anyone was awake." He flicks off the light and steps closer to you.

The moonlight paints across Nicholas’ face in a way that has you speechless. "Well, uhm-are you -" You stumble over your words. "Do you need anything? A blanket? Water? I can see if there are sweatpants you can wear."

For a moment you think he's going to decline your offer-- “Actually, a blanket and sweats would be awesome… If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all-- Here follow me.” You continue your path to your bedroom, only this time with the hottest man you've ever seen trailing behind you.

Inviting him into your room! What if he gets the wrong idea? (Is it the wrong idea if you really do wanna fuck?) "Sorry for the mess... You can sit on my bed while I look." You awkwardly point at your bed as if its location wasn't obvious. "It's cute in here, very cozy." Nicholas takes in his surroundings— trying and failing to distract himself from your extremely short pajama shorts. "Thanks, here." You hand him some clothes leftover from friends, "Hope they fit." You hear him mutter a thanks before you go back to searching for a blanket. Why is he being so quiet? When you look over at him, he's staring: again. You bite back a laugh.

”You have quite the staring problem, you know?” You tease. He smiles something wicked, his dark brown eyes dark with want. Why stare when you can just shoot your shot?”

He throws his hands up in defense, "I mean hey, I made it this far!”

“Oh yeah- "You remark sarcastically, "Remind me what base ‘sitting on a hot girl's bed and staring at her ass’ is again?"

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it?" He stands up and takes one big step towards you

“That's how we're playing it.” You tease, standing up on your tippy toes to drape your arms over his shoulders.

His large hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. He hums in acknowledgment of your teasing. He was hard, you could feel him through his jeans.

How did you get into this situation? Were you complaining though?

No, not at alt. Nicholas' large hand cups your face sensually.

The Kiss was electric, not rough, but dominant. You didn't have the energy to fight for control, you just wanted him. Dazed, you pull back from the kiss. "I can't focus with you pressed against me like that." Your hands shoot from his neck to his belt buckle. “Bed, now." You demand, he quickly clambered onto your bed.

You pull his pants down to his ankles, and Nicholas kicks them the rest of the way down. Your heart racing as you follow him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as you leaned in for another heated kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas whispered against your lips.

"Absolutely," you run your hands down his chest.

As things heated up between you two, a sudden noise from the living room made you both freeze. You remembered your friends sleeping just outside your bedroom door.

"We should keep it down," you giggled softly, pressing a finger to Nicholas' lips.

He nodded— a mischievous glint in his eyes. He presses a quick kiss into your lip and flips you onto your back. You find your eyes drifting down his torso, his cock tented in his boxers. You snap your eyes back up to his, the air thick with tension.

“Kiss me,” you beg, and he listens immediately. you tug on his bottom lip and he groans lowly. the position you were in made it impossible for you to not cross your ankles behind his back, pushing him against your throbbing core. You whimper, almost pathetic, but you couldn't care less about that right now.

You whine again, this time a desperate plea for more. “Mmm… Nick—please~” You beg against his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands. You whine again as his lip trail kisses along your neck, leaving marks at the base.

“More~” you manage to joke out.

“What do you want, beautiful? All you need to do is say it and I'll give it to you.” His voice is sultry against your ear, his breath leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Clothes. off,” you demand.

You hear him chuckle sensually, as he leans back on his haunches. You swear all time freezes as you watch Nicholas take off his shirt. He was already the most attractive person on the planet with his pants off, and now here he was. Towering over you in his underwear, while you still had all of your clothes on. That had to change, sit up briefly as Nicholas helps you take off your sleep shirt.

Nicholas kisses you again, pushing you back down onto your plush pillows. In the heat of your kiss, Nicholas takes off your sleep shorts and leans back— he groans at the sight before him.

“look at you~” he tuts, “all fucked out and I haven't even touched you yet.”

“Nick, please-” you whine, bucking your hips in the air, desperate for any kind of friction. “Don't tease!”

finally, Nicholas stands up from your bed. Pulling his boxers down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. The tip is red and angry— leaking with precum. your mouth watered just at the sight.

he climbs back over you and back in between your thighs. his hungry eyes, fixed on your core as he runs his tip over your clothed clit. you whimper again— just as you're about to open your mouth to complain, he pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you in one motion.

You bite down on your lip to try to conceal your moan but the noise that you make is still extremely loud. the stretch burned, but god it felt heavenly. Nicholas clashes his mouth back onto yours at an attempt to hush your sounds— not that he wanted to. He wanted the whole city to hear you, but all of your friends were in the next room and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.

The steady rock of his hips has you barreling quickly towards your orgasm. The kiss is sloppy and rough— you couldn't think of a better thing to be doing at 5 am. He trails wet kisses to the sweet spot below your ear, then to your neck and collarbone.

With one hand tightly gripped on your hip, he was close. You knew because his thrusts were getting sloppier and rougher. With one final bite of the base of your neck, he sits up— free hand rubbing circles on your clit as the new angle had him hitting right you needed him.

Your back arches off of your bed in a dramatic display as your orgasm takes over you— you swear you blacked out for a moment. Nick pulls out of you in a hurry, white ropes of cum paint your torso and face and he groans gutturally.

the once cold air in your bedroom was now hot. the only sound was the combined sounds of you and Nicholas trying to catch your breath. sleep takes over you as you feel Nick wiping the cum off you with whatever was nearby.

"So," Nicholas whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "does this mean I get stay here tonight?" he brought a clean blanket over your naked bodies.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If that's not what that means I have no idea what does."

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya

@lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[violet-harmon2011]

to my favorite serial killer, clown, cult leader, hairstylist, vampire, playwright, actor, hotel owner, lobster man, circus performer, zombie, frat boy, and mechanic <3

[eventually27]

Me reading fanfics when i should be asleep 💀

[happy74827]

Bittersweet Moments

[Peter Maximoff x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend (if you’d even call him that), is an annoying piece of work 99% of the time. But that 1%? That 1% is pretty special.

WC: 1513

Category: Fluff, Irritated!Reader, Mentions of Migraines

My first Evan Peters fic? Lets go.

『••✎••』

Being friends with that white-haired speedster meant you never had a moment of quiet. The guy was just so fast that you never had a second to blink without him pulling a prank on you, which is why you were constantly on edge around him. You could never trust him.

But that didn't mean that he didn't have his moments.

You were on the floor, eyes shut, attempting to fade the raging migraine out. You made your room into a dark cave and had been there all day, and yet, the pain in your head only grew.

By the time you heard your door creak open, you already felt the presence and the air in the room shift. It was almost like a ghost was floating through the doorway.

"No." The voice was quiet, and the sound was barely audible.

The soft footsteps stopped, and you opened one eye, seeing the blurred white figure. Your vision was blurry, and everything was doubled, but you could make out the face.

"You locked me out." The tone wasn't accusatory or playful. It was a soft, concerned tone that made your chest squeeze.

You rolled your head back, trying to look up at him.

"Sorry," you croaked. "But I’m also not sorry. I needed the silence."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. He crouched down his hand landing on your arm. His skin was cold against yours. "I know you secretly look forward to our little hangouts."

"No, I don't," you grumbled. "And I especially don't right now."

"Can’t even handle my presence without getting whiplash? Man, I must be really awesome."

You could faintly make out his smug smirk, and it made you snort, only worsening your headache.

"Just..." You waved your hand at him. "Get out. Leave."

He, in fact, did not leave. Instead, he stood up and went over to your bed.

You watched him in confusion as he took off his shoes, and then, with a quick flash of light, he was beside you once again, a blanket suddenly wrapped around him.

"Wh-" You were cut off as the blanket was draped around you, and you found yourself pulled up from the ground.

Peter's arm slipped around your shoulders, and he led you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers, and you climbed in, still unsure of what was going on.

Once you were in bed, he pulled the covers back up, and before you could say anything, his headset was ripped from your dresser. He placed them over his ears and lay down beside you.

He looked at you and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs-up.

You just stared at him, completely confused, but his gaze was unwavering. You let out a sigh, deciding to just roll with it. You were too tired to deal with Peter's bullshit anyway.

You rested your head on the pillow and shut your eyes.

A few moments later, a tune started playing, the music filling your ears. Not the loud, classic rock he usually blasted, but a soothing acoustic.

"You’re a fan of the Beatles?" You asked, surprised. You fluttered your eyes only to see Peter's face correctly. He looked like he was in deep thought. And with the soothing music from his Walkman (that he obviously lent to you) and the quiet, you couldn't help but feel a small tug on your heart.

He shrugged. "It just felt like the right song for the mood."

"Meaning… me dying?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic," he rolled his eyes. "Your little brain is just confused from having a devilishly handsome man lay in bed with you."

"You do realize I’ve had this for days now, right?"

"Alright, so, a devilishly handsome man around you. Is that better?"

"I can’t believe I let you in here," you grumbled, closing your eyes once more.

"Don't lie," he said, a little louder than usual since the music was loud in your ears. "You know you like my company—that and my box of sweets."

What box of—

Your eyes opened, and you looked up, seeing him holding a box of chocolate-covered almonds. Your heart did a flip.

"Is this... " You reached for the box, and he handed it to you.

"They're the good stuff. None of that cheap candy crap."

"Wow, you eat something other than Twinkies? I'm impressed," you teased, taking a piece and popping it into your mouth.

"Hey, don't hate the Twinkies. You ever try them with ice cream? It's great. It's like cake, but it's not, ya know? They're just so squishy, but the flavor is there."

"Uh, ew?"

"What, are you some fancy girl? Too high class for my delicious desserts?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it," you laughed, shaking your head. You rested your head on the pillow again.

"Whatever," he chuckled. "Eat your expensive ass almonds. I had to pay actual money for those, and I'm pretty sure Hank's going to notice they're gone."

That made you sit up despite the pounding in your head. "You stole them?! Oh my god, what's wrong with you?!"

"What?" he looked at you innocently. So I stole a box of chocolates. Big deal. The guy's rich. He never notices when I swipe his food. He'll just assume he forgot to put them away or something."

"Ugh, you are such an ass."

"You say ass; I say awesome."

"No," you said, putting another almond into your mouth. "Ass."

"Alright, fine. But, hey, look, who’s still eating the stolen chocolates?"

"Yeah, well," you smirked, taking another one. " Technically, I didn’t steal it. You did. So I can have a clear conscience."

"Ah, I see," he grinned. "Well, in that case, have another. Grab as many as you want. My treat."

You stared at him. "Okay, who are you, and what did you do with Peter?"

"What?"

"This," you gestured towards him. "All of this. You're never nice."

"Well, when you've had a migraine that's lasted for three days, you kinda learn to have a little empathy for that person."

"Three days?" you said, shocked. "Wait, how did you know the exact amount of time?"

"Don’t let anyone tell you you’re just a pretty face… I’m an all-seeing god, remember? Nothing can get by me."

"Except when Apocalypse broke—"

"Okay! Okay, I don’t need to relive that, alright? Sheesh, you're worse than Raven."

You grinned, taking another almond.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

"For what? Comparing you to the blue lady? Anytime."

"No," you rolled your eyes. "I mean, for not pulling a… well, you. I really do appreciate it."

"Does this mean you’re leaving the Batcave? If we're getting sappy, then I should probably head out. I don’t want to risk my rep."

"You and I both know you have no reputation."

"True," he smiled. But hey, a guy can dream, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You were about to lay back down when he spoke up again.

"Actually," he said, looking at the ceiling, "there is one thing I'm good at."

"What's that?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the ceiling.

"Pete?"

His head whipped around to you, and with the same speed, he was leaning over you, his face inches away from yours.

"Peter, what—"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your ear, and the comment you were about to say died in your throat.

"I can shut up."

The sound of his voice, so soft and low, sent shivers down your spine. He pulled away and gave you a quick smile.

"Just something to think about," he said, and you could see the red tint on his cheeks. He sat up and stood in front of you before you could say anything else.

"You can give the Walkman back whenever, so, uh, don't worry about it. Anyway, I gotta get going. You know, stuff to do and snacks to eat." He turned towards the door. "Anyway, feel better. Later."

And before you could comprehend what had just happened, he was gone just like the wind.

You sat in your bed, still feeling the phantom feeling of his breath on your ear.

And ironically, the pain in your head was starting to fade.

So, yes. Despite him being an annoying little shit, he did have his moments. Genuine, quiet, caring moments. And it always made you question whether or not he was secretly a clone.

You were still staring at the door, your mind running a mile a minute.

But then, as if he could read your thoughts, he peeked his head back into your room.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll tell everyone you're a huge Star Wars nerd."

He vanished, and a second later, he was back once more.

"Also, I definitely didn’t steal that Walkman from a certain someone, so, uh, have fun with the mixtape!"

With that, he was gone.

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, putting the headphones back on.

"Ass."

You will definitely be visiting the white-haired speedster tomorrow. He may have his moments, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some good old-fashioned payback.

[dangeroustaintedflawed]

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

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

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

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

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

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

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

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

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

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

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

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

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

“What question?” He responds.

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

~~~

1993

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

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

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

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

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

“It’s seventy degrees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

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

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

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, is that what this is about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

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

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

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

“What?” You asked.

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

~~~

2011

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

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

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

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

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

[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

[nyrasbloodyclover]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be evan peters

[likablenightmare]

I.. uh..YES. I’m down. Sorry guys.. are u mad at me?

[megwritesriddles]

Last updated: 3rd of November 2024 (fics running into November)

Various fandoms. All entries contain smut 18+ MDNI.

I put together my prompt list myself and shuffled the dates around, but it's loosely based on the prompt list by @dreamlandcreations , so thank u ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

Find it on ao3!

☠︎︎ | indicates dark potentially triggering themes (all warnings included in tags on posts)

✔ | indicates completed prompt

✘ | indicates not yet completed

Day 1 - Angry Sex

Tom Riddle | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 2 - Mirror Sex

Michael Langdon | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 3 - Threesome

Sam & Sebastian from Stardew Valley | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 4 - Stalking

Severus Snape | ✔ ☠︎︎

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 5 - Spanking

Tom Riddle | ✔ ☠︎︎

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 6 - Wet Dream

Mike Schmidt | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 7 - Queening / Facesitting

Spencer Reid | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 8 - Pet Play

Josh Futturman | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 9 - Masturbation & Voyeurism

Tate Langdon | ✔ ☠︎︎

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 10 - High Sex

Mike Schmidt | ✔ ☠︎︎

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 11 - Teasing / Degrading

Neville Longbottom | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 12 - Overstimulation

Mike Schmidt | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 13 - Accidental Stimulation

Sebastian from Stardew Valley | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 14 - Praise Kink & Bondage

Severus Snape | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 15 - Blackmail

Tom Riddle | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 16 - Shower Sex

Draco Malfoy | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 17 - Sexting / Phone Sex

Mike Schmidt | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 18 - First Time

Spencer Reid | ✔

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Day 19 - Public Sex

Sebastian from Stardew Valley | ✔

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Day 20 - Premature Ejaculation

Mike Schmidt | ✔

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Day 21 - Somnophilia

Tom Riddle | ✘ ☠︎︎

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Day 22 - Stockholm Syndrome

Draco Malfoy | ✘ ☠︎︎

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Day 23 - Love Potion / Pollen

Neville Longbottom | ✘ ☠︎︎

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Day 24 - Gangbang / Group Sex

Tom Riddle | ✘ ☠︎︎

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Day 25 - Non-Consensual

Severus Snape | ✘ ☠︎︎

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Depending how much time and energy I have left after day 25, I may do some bonus fics (part twos, shorter blurbs, headcanons etc.) so feel free to request some here ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[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.

[yes-divine-ruler]

(18+!!) ok wait so… It’s Halloween… you’re out with Tate… he can’t keep it together because your costume makes him horny.

Tate holds your hand tightly as you both venture down the sidewalk. His costume is eerily familiar. He wears a long, black trench coat and his face had been painted in likeness to a skeleton. His blonde, usually curly, hair is slicked back out of his face. His grip on your hand tightens as you pass by other people your age, some shamelessly taking in the appearance of your revealing costume. Much to Tate’s annoyance, you insisted that Halloween was the one time of year you had an excuse to dress like you were begging for it. The delicate lace that decorates your cleavage distracts Tate more than once. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans just from lingering beside you. At times, he takes a moment to trail behind you to catch a glimpse of the mounded flesh of your ass cheeks from under your tiny skirt. You know what his game is, of course, and occasionally brush the back of your hand across the front of his jeans. Tate doesn’t take to it lightly, and after teasing him for the forth, and final, time, he has no choice but to trap you behind a big, oak tree in the park and bend you over. His fingers make quick work of your panties, tugging the thin, soaked piece of fabric down your long legs. Your ass jiggles around his hand as he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them upwards to press against your sweet spot. “Thought you could tease me and get away with it? In that little, slutty costume?” He mumbles huskily against the shell of your ear, tickling his nose with the freshly-washed hair on the side of your head. You smelt like vanilla, and a hint of coconut. A sweet and sensual scent that had Tate moaning softly against you. Tate spits, directly onto your needy cunt, using his fingertips to spread the saliva over your pulsing clit. “Tate, please, I need you inside me,” you plead, reaching around to grasp onto his throbbing cock, sure to be staining his boxers with smears of pre-cum. Tate unveils his rock-hard length, stroking it with a mix of your arousal and his saliva. He teases you, circling your entrance with the leaking tip of his cock. Caving to his own eagerness, it’s not long before Tate is stretching you out with his girth. Your fingernails dig into the flaking bark of the tree, trying your hardest to find the leverage you need to soften each ravaging thrust. Soft whimpers turn into loud, destitute moans. Tate’s hand wraps around your mouth to stop the ruckus you’re making in an attempt to shield you from the eyes of passer-byers. “That’s it baby, take my fucking cock. You love how it fills you to the fucking brim, don’t you?” Tate’s grip on you only get tighter as he slams into your poor, little cunt, using it to alleviate his painful desire for you. Stars appear behind your closed eyelids when Tate’s free hand slithers down between your body and the trunk of the tree to stimulate your swollen clit. “Uh fuck- can feel you squeezing tight around me, let up sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum,” Tate seethes behind clenched teeth, the lewd, squelching sounds each thrust pulls from your dripping cunt pushing you both a step towards release. It’s not long before the intense pleasure of Tate’s tip nudging against your sweet spot sends you over the edge. Tate holds you up as your orgasm washes over you in big, tremulous waves. Tate growls into your hair, a few last thrust just enough for him to let go inside of your clenching walls. When he pulls out, he’s quick to pull up your panties, rubbing over the cloth to make sure his cum stays with you. “You’re gonna walk around the rest of the night with these soaking wet panties. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint. You little tease.” He tucks himself away, and taking a hold of your hand again, he begins to pace down the sidewalk like nothing happened. Even though, you can barely stand on your two feet from how weak your legs are now.

[babygorewhore]

Sit down. Evan Peters smut.

Your older boyfriend has been growing out his facial hair for a while. And he asks something of you. Something you’ve resisted before. What happens next? Requested by anonymous! I’m finally posting this! Next I’m gonna take the next few days to work on my requests!

WARNINGS! Oral! Fem receiving. Face riding.

Evan hadn’t shaved in almost a month, his beard growing more and more as the days went on. You were always attracted to him. But now? He looked so manly. Shedding his appearance as a boy. Which he was far from, but the beard…mmm. It looked so good on him.

You both sat on the bed, he was reading through a magazine as the tv was long forgotten. You were on your phone scrolling through tik tok, still bugging him to get one.

“Sorry, babe. I’m afraid that’s where our age difference comes in.” He grinned at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, old man.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, gently brushing against his scruff.

“Do you like it? The beard, I mean?” Evan questioned. You paused, sensing his insecurity.

“Of course, I like it, baby. It looks good.” You cooed at him. He leaned down and kissed you, softly at first before he found your lips and grazed his teeth against your lower lip.

“Oh yeah?” He asked you.

Evan gently leaned on you, his weight pressing against your body as he continued kissing you. You felt his beard against your chin, but the scratch comforted you.

“I fucking love kissing you.” He breathed. His hand raising to gently squeeze your breast. You sucked in a breath.

Evan sucked on your lower lip as he kneaded your chest. Your core pooled at his attention as he brushed his tongue against your teeth.

You met his kiss, his tongue diving in your mouth and tasted you throughly. “Can you do something for me?” He asked against your mouth.

“Anything.” You answered, your hand against the back of his head.

“Can you…please sit on my face?” He asked. You froze, mid kiss.

He had asked you before and you refused. You couldn’t possibly. You felt way too heavy for him. You would probably crush his neck.

“Evan…” you started and he pressed a finger against your lips.

“Baby, you’re not going to crush me. I promise. You’re not too heavy. I know you’re insecure. But trust me. I can handle it. Please, I’m dying to taste you. I’ve been wanting this all day.” He trailed his lips down your neck, finding your pulse point.

His hands found your hips as his fingers tightened along them, as he guided you to sit up. You hesitated as he laid down, his eyes darkened impossibly. Evan helped you straddle his chest, pulling your oversized t shirt above your belly. “It’s okay, baby girl. Please? Please come here. I want to taste how sweet you are.”

You swallowed, still unsure. Evan gripped your thighs.

You were thicker than him, something you were always afraid that he wouldn’t find attractive. You hated that, you felt so uncomfortable whenever he held you on his lap, or picked you up. But he never let you speak badly about yourself, always reassuring you that he thought you were beautiful. Sexy, even.

“Sweetheart.” Evan reached forward, cupping your chin, making you look at him. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re not hurting me. You’re not too heavy. It feels so good, do you want me to beg?”

Your eyes widened. “What?” Evan smirked at you before he toyed with the band of your underwear.

“Please, baby. Please, fuck my face. It’ll make you feel so good, I promise. I need it.” He whispered to you, slowly lifting you higher on his chest. Your hands fell to his shoulders, as you hovered above him, your underwear pulled to your separated knees.

Evan leaned up, you felt his beard brush against your pussy. You almost pulled away. But Evan’s hands went to your ass. “Fucking sit.” He breathed, before bringing you down on his mouth.

You immediately felt his tongue driving up, circling your clit as your thighs straddled his face. Your hips buckled, but your cheeks warmed as he slurped and sucked your sensitive bud. He moaned deep within his throat as he head moved up and down. His tongue dipped inside you, tasting you deep as his beard lightly scratched your inner thighs.

“Evan-“ you squeaked as your hands splayed on his chest, as he desperately thrusted his tongue against your clit.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groaned, his hands finding your hips as he rolled them. You tossed insecurities aside and started humping his face.

Your slick coated his chin as you moved against his face, your pleasure growing inside your stomach. Evan quickened his pace as you reached forward to grip the headboard. Your head pressed against it as your pelvis buckled as he flicked his tongue against your folds.

“I’m gonna-“ you stuttered.

“Please do.” Evan begged. You moved your hips up and down, Evan whimpered at the pressure and you shuddered as your release came.

You chased your orgasm as your movements became sloppy and Evan held your lower back so tight you thought he would break you. You moved to get off but he still held you in place.

“I’m not done.” He whined, continuing lapping at your pussy as he licked your leftover climax.

“I can’t-Evan please. I need a break.” You said to him and he finally stopped.

You climbed off, back on the bed beside him and you glanced at his crotch. But you saw the wet patch staining his sweatpants. “Did you-“

“Yeah.” He said, a slightly blush creeping his cheeks. “It was so hot, I couldn’t contain myself.”

You nodded and he snuggled closer to your side, trailing his fingers against your arms.” You did really good, baby. I really liked it.” He confessed.

“You promise?” You looked at him through your lashes.

“Yes,” he reached forward and kissed you. Savoring your lips with the aftermath of your taste.

Taglist. @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @icannot3 @randodummy @howtobesasha @evanptrss

[fear-is-truth]

WARNINGS: perv!best friend!tate langdon﹒flirty!fem!reader ﹒suggestive themes ﹒MDNI A/N: for everyone, but specifically 🃏anon.

TATE LANGDON’s crush on you is almost painfully obvious to every resident of the murder house but you. you’ve always been naturally flirty, and your friendly touchiness only adds to the confusion. you love wrapping your arms around your friends in quick, affectionate hugs, not noticing how tate takes advantage of each one.

every time you hug him, he pulls you in just a bit tighter than necessary, holding on longer than any of your other friends would. you laugh it off, always thinking it's just tate being his clingy and pathetic self, but for him, it’s closest he can get to having you. you never seem to notice how his hands linger on your waist or how he buries his face in your shoulder—breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume. more than often, under the guise of being playful, tate will grip onto your waist as he begins to rock back and forth slightly, grinding his clothed crotch against your ass. the movement subtle enough that you remain obliviously unaware to the hardness forming behind you.

the way you run your fingers through his golden curls or press your cheek to his feels innocent on your part, just another part of your naturally affectionate nature. but to tate, it’s everything he dreams about. painting a picture of you laying beneath him, cheeks flushed and kiss-swollen lips after having your cervix abused by his cock.

the way his name rolls off your tongue, a friendly, high pitched squeal of “tate!” brings his mind straight to the gutter. oh, how he’d like to hear your voice all scratchy and broken, viscous cum dribbling down your lips having just stuffed the length of his dick down your tight little throat.

[hauntedrose555]

[dangeroustaintedflawed]