#ahs hotel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luuuuucyscorner · 2 days

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞- 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧

Info: a movie night with Tate turns into something more

Tags: 18+ (MINORS DNI), making out, Dom!Tate, fingering, dirty talk, swearing

word count: 5184

It started innocently enough, movie night at Y/n 's place. She lit candles and threw fuzzy blankets across the back of the couch, and of course, made sure to gather Tate's favorite snacks. She waited expectantly, flipping through the movies she had on hand as the doorbell rang. It was Tate, standing outside patiently with a small smile on his face.

She ushered him inside, locking the door behind them as she guided him towards the living room. They both got comfortable, her legs draped over his lap as she turned on a random movie she thought he'd enjoy. Midway through the film, she swore she could feel a hand sliding up her thighs, his fingers squeezing her skin affectionately.

She thought nothing of it, he was always handsy with her, always needed to be touching her in some way. But she second guessed herself when his fingers began slipping beneath the hem of her skirt.

"baby?" she asks in a whisper, a questioning tone creeping into her voice.

His gaze flickered downwards, catching sight of his hand resting on her thigh before lifting back up to meet hers. "Just making sure you're still here," he murmured, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His thumb brushed against the sensitive skin just above the edge of her panties, eliciting a shiver from her. "And you smell so good...like strawberries."

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "You know, we could always stop watching this movie..." Y/n finds herself shifting in her seat, moving ever so slightly onto his lap.

As she shifted, his hand moved further up her leg, his fingertips brushing softly against the fabric of her underwear. He couldn't help but let out a low chuckle, his grin widening at her innocent response.

"You're so easy, Y/n," he teased, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I'm glad you're mine." His lips quirked upwards as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her cheek. "I promise, once this movie's done, I'll make it worth your while."

A thrill of anticipation ran through Y/n as she bit her lip, trying hard to keep her composure. She knew that Tate was trouble, she had been told so by almost everyone at their school, but sometimes... sometimes she couldn't help but crave the chaos he brought with him.

"what if my parents come home?" she asks, looking up at him worriedly.

"Don't worry about them," Tate reassured, his thumb continuing to trace circles along the edge of your panties. "They won't interrupt our little movie night." A wicked glint entered his eyes, daring to imagine what would happen if they did. "Besides," he added, leaning in closer so that his mouth was almost touching her earlobe, "if they do show up...well, I'm sure they'd understand."

He squeezed her thigh gently, letting out a soft groan as you squirmed underneath his touch. "Now, concentrate on the screen, babe. Pretend like nothing's happening down here."

Y/n turns her attention back to the movie but it falls on dull ears as Tate begins to trace figure eights on her puffy clit, making it increasingly difficult to focus.

"That's a good girl," Tate whispered, his voice low and sultry as he continued drawing lazy circles around her most sensitive spot. He felt her tremble beneath him, letting out mewls and whimpers, her attempts at focusing on the movie futile against his expert touch.

"You're so wet for me already. Can't wait to feel my cock inside you?" He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply before adding, "I bet you taste sweet too."

His fingers slipped beneath her panties, stroking her bare flesh with deliberate intent. Her moans grew louder, barely muffled by the blanket draped over them. He grinned, knowing full well that she was struggling not to scream out in pleasure.

"Just think about how good it's gonna feel when I fuck you later," he purred, his voice thick with lust. "Imagine those pretty lips wrapped around my dick...or maybe taking it all in your tight little pussy."

"god tate, please" she moaned out, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and shifting on his lap.

"Oh, I love hearing you like that," Tate breathed, his hand continuing to tease her needy flesh. "So fucking responsive...it's like you were made for me." He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on her thigh as he pressed himself harder against her.

Y/n tried to stifle her moans, but the pleasure was becoming too intense to ignore. She found herself arching her back, pushing her chest forward in desperation for relief. "Please...Tate...I need..." she gasped, trailing off as his fingers slipped deeper into her folds.

"What? What do you need?" he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me, Y/n...you know you want it. Don't be shy."

His touch became more urgent, his fingers plunging in and out of her with increasing intensity. "Take me," he demanded, his breath ragged. "Use me...make me yours."

With a sudden movement, he rolled her over, pinning her to the couch beneath his weight. His lips crushed down on hers, silencing any protests she might have had left. As he ground himself against her, she realized with a sinking feeling that she was completely lost in his web...

And she didn't want to escape anytime soon.

#evan peters #james patrick march #tate langdon #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #american horror story #kai anderson #kyle spencer #ahs cult #tate langdon smut #tate langon x reader #smut #fanfiction #evan peters smut #luuuuucyscorner

93 notes · View notes

bluerthanvelvet444 · 1 day

Text

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: sfw and nsfw.

warnings: none.

character count: 7k.

this was a request!

ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷

He LOVES playing games with you.

Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.

He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.

His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.

“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.

“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.

“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.

“Who said I paid for it?”

He takes you anywhere you want.

You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.

You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.

In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.

He always matches your mood.

If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.

If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.

If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.

He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.

You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.

“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.

“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.

“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.

“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.

“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.

“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.

He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.

“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.

“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”

“Oh.”

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

He’s horny 24/7.

Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.

You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.

“I barely touched you…” You teased.

“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.

He’s such a switch.

You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.

“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.

“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.

He’s open to all types of sex with you.

Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.

Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.

Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.

Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.

No toys!

One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?

He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.

Quickies in public are more common than you think.

With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.

“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.

“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.

He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.

“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind

a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #x men #x men apocalypse #quicksilver #evan peters #american horror story #tate langdon #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #kyle spencer #violet harmon #james patrick march #kai anderson #taissa farmiga #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs coven

91 notes · View notes

zanephillips · 6 months

Text

American Horror Story: Hotel 5.06 "Room 33"

#american horror story #ahs #ahsedit #ahs hotel #cheyenne jackson #lady gaga #american horror story: hotel #tvedit #tv #serie #actor #🍑#gifs #mine #*

2K notes · View notes

wh0re43van · 6 months

Text

“I need him biblically,,, I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism.”

Currently rewatching asylum for the first time since it aired. Evan really put his whole evussy into this role stg 🙏🏻

#evan peters #ahs asylum #kit walker #kai anderson smut #kit walker x reader #evan peters smut #ahs hotel #ahs cult #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #brittany broski #kit walker smut #tate langdon #tate langdon smut

2K notes · View notes

likablenightmare · 6 months

Text

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

1K notes · View notes

dangeroustaintedflawed · 12 days

Text

490 notes · View notes

longgentlekiss · 2 years

Text

"My name is Luke cooper, I like films." ︴✧

#twilight #evan peters #tate langdon #kyle spencer #ahs hotel #ahs fandom #ahs coven #ahs murder house #ahstories #ahs apocalypse #ahs #american horror 1984 #american horror story #jimmy darling #the office

9K notes · View notes

amengaga · 4 months

Text

The Countess's lovers - American Horror Story: Hotel (2015)

#lady gaga #gaga #mother monster #american horror story #american horror story hotel #ahs hotel #the countess #the countess elizabeth #evan peters #matt bomer #angela bassett #finn wittrock #cheyenne jackson #my gifs

578 notes · View notes

wh0s-vesper · 5 months

Text

Part 2..

I need something else to do in my life.

918 notes · View notes

lanawintersenthusiast · 5 months

Text

eating disorder?

no bitch, im eating this order 😍

411 notes · View notes

ahsgirlblogger · 3 months

Text

356 notes · View notes

luuuuucyscorner · 2 days

Note

Hello xxx

Could I request an angst fanfic for Kit Walker x fem reader inside Briarcliff Manor, please?

I'm so excited this is my first ask! And ofc I can anon! I hope this is what you meant!

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐎𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐫- 𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Info: when kit steals some bread, you take the fall. However, Sister Jude knows that it was kit, so his punishment is far worse.

Tags: mentions of blood, crimes, whippings, religion mentions, angst

word count: 7960

Kit's heart races as he watches Y/n get dragged into the room where Sister Jude waits, knowing full well what's coming next. He clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms as he tries to steel himself against the inevitable screams that would soon tear through the air. He can't help but feel partly responsible for this -- he'd been the one to take the damn bread loaf in the first place, he couldn't help himself. He knows stealing food is petty, trivial even compared to what Y/n's now facing, but he can't help feeling a twinge of regret that it's led to this. To Y/n taking his place, to the cruelty she's sure to endure as punishment.

He shifts restlessly, when the sudden appearance of Sister Mary Eunice catches him off-guard, his heart hammering in his chest as she grabs him by the collar and tosses him unceremoniously onto the cold, hard floor. Pain radiates through his body as he hits the ground, jarring his already-frayed nerves. But as he looks up, he sees something even more alarming: Y/n, shaking and terrified, standing before Sister Jude's desk, the cruel nun's gaze boring into her like a hawk eyeing its prey.

Kit's stomach drops as he realizes what's happening. This isn't about the stolen bread anymore - this is about torment. About who can withstand the brutal regime of the Braircliff institution. About who will be broken first. He watches, frozen, as Sister Jude reaches under her desk, pulling out a wicked-looking whip with metal studs lining the braided leather. His gut twists in horror as the nun starts moving towards Y/n, cracking the whip menacingly, the sound ringing through the air like a gunshot.

Kit can't help it - he launches himself forward, scrambling towards Sister Jude, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his side as he tries to reach Y/n. He snatches at the nun's robe, desperately trying to pull her away.

"STOP!" sister Jude bellows, "OR ILL ADD ANOTHER TWENTY LASHES ONTO YOUR 'GIRLFRIEND' HERE" she threatens menacingly.

Kit freezes mid-lunge, blood pounding in his ears as Sister Jude's voice booms through the room like thunder. He swallows thickly, glancing between the nun and the helpless Y/n. Another twenty lashes...he could barely stand the thought of what she might already be enduring. And yet, there's no way he can let this continue without doing anything.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he lowers himself back down to the cold floor, every muscle tense and ready to pounce again if necessary. But for now, he holds himself still, seething silently as he meets Sister Jude's cold stare. "You wouldn't dare," he growls, voice raw and hoarse. "I won't let you hurt her."

His heart feels heavy in his chest, fear warring with anger and despair. He knows that defying her could mean more pain for both him and Y/n, but he can't bear the thought of watching her suffer any longer. There has to be some way out of this nightmare, some chance to protect those he cares about. He just needs to find it before it's too late.

"Assume the position" Sister Jude instructs Y/n, who does as she's told, shaking and bending over the side of the desk.

Watching Y/n bend over the desk, tears streaming down her face as she obeys Sister Jude's command, Kit's chest tightens into a knot. His mind races, searching frantically for a way to save her from this hellish fate. But there is nothing he can do, no magic trick to undo the situation. All he can do now is watch, powerless and terrified, waiting for the first strike to fall.

As Sister Jude raises the whip, Kit's heart seems to stop altogether. His breath catches in his throat, a silent prayer for mercy that he knows won't be answered. He wants to scream at the nun, beg her to stop, demand justice or mercy or humanity. Instead, he bites his lip hard, tasting blood as he braces himself for the sound of that cruel instrument connecting with Y/n's fragile form.

When the first lash finally falls, it's like a bolt of lightning striking the air around them. A cry rips from Y/n's throat, echoing through the room like a wounded animal's howl. Kit winces, closing his eyes briefly against the image of her flesh being torn.

"the first of fifty" the nun states stoicly

Kit feels a surge of nausea rise in his throat as Sister Jude delivers the first of fifty lashes to Y/n's trembling body. Each strike sends shockwaves through the room, rippling through Kit's bones and making him ache with a pain that isn't his own. He clenches his fists, gritting his teeth as he tries to block out the sounds and images, to shut down the part of him that feels too much, too keenly.

But despite his efforts, he cannot escape the reality of what's happening before him. Y/n's screams fill the air, mingling with the sickening sound of leather against tender flesh. Her body jerks and spasms with each blow, bruises blossoming across her pale skin like ugly flowers. Tears stream down her cheeks, contrasting the blood that drips from fresh wounds.

Kit's heart feels like it's being ripped apart, torn between rage and despair, between the desire to fight and the need to protect. He wants to smash the world apart, to rip the nuns limb from limb, to make them pay for what they've done to her. And yet, he knows it's futile. In this place, there is no justice, no mercy, no hope. Only pain and loss and endless darkness.

lashes echo through the room, ten, twenty, thirty. Y/n stands crying, her bottom angry and bleeding. ugly welts spread down her thighs and up her back.

Kit watches in mute horror as Sister Jude lays into Y/n with merciless force, each lash sending waves of agony crashing through her frail body. Every strike is like a bullet piercing his own soul, tearing open old wounds and exposing raw nerve endings he'd rather forget. He wants to help her, to hold her, to make it all go away. But he can do none of those things, trapped as he is in this nightmare beyond nightmares.

By the time the nun reaches forty, Kit can hardly bear it. His vision blurs, his breath comes in ragged gasps, and his palms are slick with sweat. But still he sits there, transfixed by the sheer brutality of it all, unable to look away, unable to intervene. It's like he's caught in a nightmare from which there is no escape, trapped in a world where pain and suffering are the norm, and kindness is a foreign concept.

And then, suddenly, it's over. Sister Jude stops after delivering fifty lashes, letting the silence settle over the room like a heavy blanket. Y/n slumps forward, her body wracked with sobs, blood staining the once-white fabric of her dress. Kit stares at her, his heart breaking into a million tiny pieces, knowing that it was all his fault. knowing that this was meant to inflict punishment on him, through her.

"you may go to her" The Nun mutters and Kit finally rushes over to Y/n and takes her in his arms.

Kit's entire world narrows down to the feeling of Y/n's body pressed against his, her broken sobs rattling his chest like a storm. He cradles her gently, stroking her hair and whispering soothing nonsense into her ear, hoping to offer some measure of comfort in the aftermath of her torture.

He doesn't know how long they stay there, wrapped up in each other's arms like two lost souls adrift in a sea of darkness. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. Time loses all meaning in the face of such overwhelming pain and trauma. All Kit knows is that he needs to protect her, to shield her from the horrors of this place as best he can.

Eventually, though, he knows they can't stay here forever. They need to find a way out, to escape this cursed institution and find some semblance of safety and peace. He looks up at Sister Jude, fury boiling up within him like a tempest. "You'll regret this," he snarls, venom dripping from every word. "Mark my words, one day you'll pay for what you've done."

The nun simply smiles, though, unfazed by his threats. "We'll see about that," she says coolly, turning on her heel and striding out into the halls of the asylum.

#evan peters #tate langdon #james patrick march #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #kai anderson #american horror story #kyle spencer #ahs cult #ahs asylum #kit walker smut #angst #kit walker x reader #kit walker x reader angst

29 notes · View notes

bluerthanvelvet444 · 1 month

Text

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

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: fluff! super fluff!

warnings: none. no use of y/n.

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

character count: 5k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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

2.25 AM.

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

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

Up and down.

Up and dow-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Help with what? Melting?”

“Sleeping.”

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

“And how exactly would you do that?”

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

“C'mere.”

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

“So? What's the plan?”

He chuckled.

God, that stupid laugh.

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

“What the hell are you trying to do?”

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

“No.”

“That's the only choice you have.”

“...Fine.”

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

Cold.

His hand was cold.

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

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

“Better?”

“So much better.”

She sighed contentedly. Finally.

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Anything for you.”

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

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

Anything in the Murder House is possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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

join my taglist!!