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#<- female character ; vague description (female parts + outflit link+ mentions of blonde wig for a costume.)
ashes-writing · 2 years
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m i n e | ahs murder house ; t.langdon
|| taglist,babes + req rules + send ?s + masterlist + kinktober masterlist ||
** graphics made by me courtesy of pinterest + google image search. The list of prompts provided so generously by sxcret-garden -huge thanks, y'all please go check them out. Also, this one is more spooky/fluffy than kinky.**
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𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ; 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 || conclusion.
Summary ;
--- (pt 3of 3 ) you switched schools, leaving LA for Maine. Tate let you go even though he didn't want to. But is it really over?. 90's/early aughts Med School Tate Langdon au. this one is for you bestie @tbmunson because without our talk this never would have come up and come out as well as it did.
Pairing ;
90's!CollegeGuy!MedStudent Tate Langdon x fem!reader
--- no physical description given beyond having female parts.
Warnings ;
--- minors, abso-fuckin-lutely not. In addition to the prior, murder house and his og backstory doesn't exist + tate langdon is not a ghost, but a med. school student, tate with a bit of a possessive side, angsty beginning, kissing and a handsy makeout, a drunk jerk follows reader out of a bar and is really gross/creepy, Tate saves the day, swearing... There's not really anything sexual here, but this is part 3 of my little reader series Anatomy, which is an AU for an AU I wanna write soon called unholy. The banner is different because this is a whole other version of Tate Langdon, who is at least 22 here.
Taglist ;
--- the people listed below are the only ones I have on my american horror story taglist. If you'd like to be added, click the little link up top.
@krys-orion
@hajimaaaaaa
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A heavy chill hung in the night air already as you hugged yourself  and hurried down the sidewalk and you’re mumbling every step of the way about small towns and their shitty parking situations. Because it’s a little after 10 pm, everything is starting to close for the night and the streets are nearly empty, save for a few people here and there. The emptier the streets get, the creepier it feels. It just doesn’t feel safe and this has you on edge. You’re just about to laugh at your own paranoia when the thought crosses your mind that while this is a small town, it’s not the one you grew up in. The one you left behind because of your ‘goals’.
,, It’ll never be home. I’m actually miserable and so home-sick it’s driving me crazy. Everything has felt wrong since I got here… To be fair, I didn't really want to leave in the first place... Things got too intense.. scary...” the thought comes and you shove it out again, focusing instead on the footfalls behind you. You stop at a corner two blocks away from campus to wait on the crosswalk and this is when you notice the guy who left the bar at the exact same time as you and you tense up all over.
He’d been kind of lurking near all night too, come to think of it. But because he never said anything to you and he didn’t try anything funny, you’d mostly ignored this. Until right now, this very second. Before you even realize it, you’ve managed to work yourself into a bit of a panic. The crosswalk signal lights up and you’ve never been more grateful to see it in your entire life. You rush across the street, digging around in the pocket of your leather jacket as you go, a frantic search for your keys and the mace canister you keep on your keychain because you’re not wasting any time in getting into your vehicle once you reach the lot you’ve parked it in.
The footfalls behind you are faster now, as if the guy from the bar is rushing to catch up to you. You manage to work up the nerve to glance back over your shoulder and your heart begins to beat like a runaway train when you see that the guy from the bar is catching up to you and he’s catching up to you faster than you like. In your distraction, someone stepping out of a diner and onto the sidewalk and just stopping there takes you by surprise and sadly, this is just enough for the guy from the bar to catch up to you. For a split second, you’re frozen in place. Blindsided by a scent so familiar, so comforting -and yet, one you know you can’t possibly be smelling right now, because the person it belongs to is back home. You left him behind to come here, try the whole college thing. 
The scent doesn’t disappear, it’s lingering so heavy you almost tap the person on the shoulder, but then panic takes over again as the drunk stops in front of you and immediately, right into your personal space.
“T-there y-you are, pretty.. Pretty girl.” he drawls as he steps in even closer. His hand is lingering close to your hip. You grimace as the alcohol and cigarette on his breath is enough to nauseate you and makes you shrink away as much as you can. You place a palm down against his hoodie with every intention to shove him back and haul ass away and this is what you attempt to do, shoving past the person standing frozen on the sidewalk. You catch a whiff of that familiar scent all over again, but fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing flight. You take off at a blind run, shoving through the few people who remain on the sidewalk between this street and the next one, ducking down an alley only to hear footfalls right behind you.
“Shit. Fuck. Shit.” you’re out of breath by the time you turn down the next block and the parking lot you parked your car in earlier on during the night comes into view across the street. You can hear the drunk guy shouting at you but you pretend you don’t, every fiber of your being is focused on getting to your car and praying to God that just this once it’ll crank the first time with no hesitation. You make a mad dash across the street, a car blowing it’s horn at you as it has to stop and let you cross. You don’t care, you’re just focused on getting to your car and back to your apartment on campus. Away from the scary little situation you find yourself caught up in presently.
You’re so closer to the fenced in parking lot now. You’re tired from all the running, almost out of breath.
Commotion behind you as you stop to take a few deep breaths just beside the gate to the fenced in parking lot your car is parked in, it draws your attention and you glance over. The drunk from the bar is in a shoving match with someone and the more you stare, the more that someone looks like Tate. The man you didn’t want to leave behind in L.A. . It’s such a strong resemblance from behind that you have to blink two or three times. You shake your head at yourself and tear your eyes off of the scene in front of you. 
The confrontation continues across the street at the corner and you make your way through the gate, glancing over now and then just to be sure that the drunk is still distracted.
The more you glance over, the more you find yourself thinking about Tate again. Wondering where he’s at, if he’s happy, what he’s doing right now. Missing him. Wishing that familiar scent you caught a whiff of just minutes ago was him and he was here somehow, because you know you’d feel so much safer.
 Between the panic you’re currently in, trying to flee the unwanted advances of a guy who might not have just been some harmless drunk who happened to be near you all night long and who happened to leave the bar at the exact same time as you and being hit with deja vu in the form of the scent of a lover you left behind, you’re a mess. You nearly drop the keys to your car at least twice as you try to get the key in the door to unlock it scrambling to pick up the keys.
“Get out. See the sights, they said.” you exhale, your breath is shaky. You’re just about to get into your car when you hear someone shout your name and tell you to wait. Your head shoots up and you’re staring across the road as Tate Langdon makes his way across, at least two cars blowing the horn to which he responds with a middle finger. 
You’re frozen in place. You blink at least three times and he doesn’t disappear. The adrenaline is wearing off and it’s being replaced by a stunned daze instead. Tate stops in front of you. “Forgot about me already?” he asks the question with a wounded pout, staring down at you intently. Stepping closer to you and removing all the space between your bodies. Melting into you as he buries his nose in the crown of your head. His hands are all over you before they settle on your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck, melting right back against him.
The shock is finally wearing off now. “T-tate?” you stammer out his name quietly and when you say it, he melts into you a little more, holding on a little tighter.
“It’s me.” Tate mumbles quietly, pulling away just enough so that he can look down at you.
“You’re the one who told me I was better off leaving… I…” you go quiet. Swallowing hard, fighting back tears. “I thought that meant we were done…”
“I can’t let you go. I can’t. Look, I tried, alright?” Tate’s hand settles against your neck and he crashes his mouth against yours. Your mouth falls open willingly and you’re clinging to him, whimpering into the deepening kiss when you feel his hand shift slightly, grabbing you by the throat to keep you in the kiss. His other hand catches in your hair, tangling up in it, tugging at it and before you can ask any of your remaining questions, you’re rubbing yourself against him, light-headed from a lack of oxygen but determined not to break the kiss because you’re afraid that the second you do, he’ll be gone and you’ll realize you imagined this somehow.
Tate is the one who breaks the kiss, doe eyes roam over you slowly. He chuckles and bites his lip. “Almost didn’t recognize ya with the wig and that outfit… Do I even wanna know why you’re dressed like that?” he’s nodding to the black and red/black plaid babydoll dress and the over the knee socks you’re wearing with combat boots and your favorite black leather jacket and a blonde wig.
“It is Halloween. I got dragged out to some stupid dive bar with my roommate, then she ditches me and goes off to fuck some random..” you’re pulling him closer to you by the belt loop on his jeans and you stare up at him, head tilted slightly. “H-how long can you stay?” you ask the question tentatively, because you’re terrified to hear the answer.
“I’m not leavin you again.” Tate mutters, pushing himself into you, putting your back against the brick wall near your car. You gulp and barely stop a whine from slipping out and he chuckles, grabbing you by the throat all over again, pulling you back into another deep kiss filled with longing as he uses his other hand to grab your thigh, raising your leg up to his hip. You wind up climbing into his arms, pinned between his body and the brick wall at your back. The kiss deepens and he gives just the slightest squeeze to your throat, pulling away so you can both breathe again, His hand remains in place as he mumbles into the kiss quietly, “You know you’re mine, right? And I love you. Wherever you are, I am.”
“Tate.. you were going to start that internship…”
“And I can do the same damn thing here. One good thing about that bitch I call a mother, she knows a lotta people.” he’s grinning as he says it and you study him intently, still trying to process having the only thing -or person, you’ve wanted back as he stands in front of you. For real, it’s not some daydream or some hallucination.
“You’re… You’re sure.” you ask, the bright grin already forming, making him grin with you. “This is the only thing I am sure about, kitten. Living without you has been hell, okay?”
You nod in agreement. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”
“Got a room at this little bed and breakfast near campus because I’m supposed to meet somebody to tour tomorrow.” Tate chuckles, biting his lip as he locks eyes with you. “Wanna come back to it with me? Let me show you how much I missed you?”
You whimper as you nod your head yes at him, melted against him as close as you can get. "Please, Tate? Take me back to your room?"
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