Tate Langdon X Y/n - Blog Posts

I ACTUALLY ATE THIS UP LIKE FUCKING MAC & CHEASE WHAT THE FJHVBADFIPJBAEFVJBAF

so, i was thinking about tate fitting into the yandere trope (more than he already does lol) and being extremely obsessed with reader and when he decides to tell her about his feelings she tells him she's already in love with someone else. tate doesn't accept that, cause if he cant have her, nobody else cant

oh, i had fun with this one. hope you like it :)

~~~

His Obsession

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, torture, hints of smut, hints of suicide, stalking, very bad obsession (as the title says lol), abusive relationship, manipulation, idk what else

summary: since the moment he saw you moving in, tate knew you were going to be his. no matter what.

word count: 2.5k

~~~

Tate watches as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You’re lying on your bed, music blasting in your ears. Even if he was visible to you, he doubts you’d even know he’s there. You’re too busy looking at pictures of clothes and celebrities. You hum along to the song playing, your voice soft like velvet. What once made his invisible heart race now makes him sick. He feels a tear roll down his cheek as he watches you. How can you be so content? How?

He’s been watching you for months, half of it without your knowledge. He knew the second he saw you moving in with your family he needed to have you. He remembers watching you unpack boxes, making what used to be his room now yours. Within the first week of you being there, he warned every other ghost in the house to stay away. You are his, only his.

The first time he revealed himself to you, he pretended to be the boy next door. He remembers the look on your face as if it were yesterday. You stared at him with a look that made him almost feel as though he were alive again. It was like heaven. You let him hang out with you in your room, the connection between the two of you forming immediately. He remembers how easily you opened up to him, and how within only a week you wanted to be his friend. It went just as he planned.

On Halloween he took you out to the beach, it was the best night of his life. He often thinks back to how that night went. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore as you opened your legs for him for the first time. You were so willing, it almost made him angry. But he knew it must’ve been hard to resist him for that month before Halloween, so he gave you a pass on it.

He remembers everything about that night. The way you told him he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, the way you looked at him as though he was the only boy in the world. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you didn’t object for one second. In fact, you were the one who laid back on the towel and started to slide your pants off. He remembers how gentle he was with you, how he almost let it slip that he was in love with you. The way you made him feel that night was a feeling he never felt before in life or death. You were so warm, so tight. He could barely contain himself. It was everything he had dreamed of and more.

After that night, his obsession only grew. Suddenly, almost every time the two of you saw each other, you had sex. He thought you were in love with him too, so he let it happen. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Each time you came on to him, he felt like he was floating. You wanted him. You wanted him to do things to you that were special, that made two people as close as they could be. It felt like an honor.

“Oh Tate,” you’d moan. “You’re perfect.”

He would look at you, no matter what position, and think about how lucky he was to be with you. You were the girl of his dreams, his obsessions. He loved you more than anyone. If he could, he would die for you, he would kill for you. Both without a second thought. Even now, he still would.

Right now, he wipes the tear that fell down his cheek and reveals himself. He walks over to you, tapping you lightly. You flinch, but once you realize it’s him you smile and take off your headphones, patting the spot next to you on the bed for him to lay.

“Have you been here long?” You ask.

Tate shakes his head and gets onto your bed. “No, not really.”

“Oh, that’s good. All I’ve done today is be lazy. I actually thought about calling you but then my mom gave me this to read,” you say. You turn your head and he watches as you really look at his face. “Were you crying?”

“No, just allergies,” he lies.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “I uh just came here to talk about what you said last time we saw each other.”

“Yeah...” you say, your smile disappearing. “I’m really sorry for that, I just thought you should know about him.”

“Who is he?” Tate asks. He doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or kill somebody. Perhaps he wants both.

“Just a guy from one of my classes. I don’t really know how it happened, we just clicked. Don’t think this means I don’t want to stop talking though Tate, of course I still want to see you. I just think we should strictly only be friends, nothing like what we were doing,” you answer.

Tate scoffs. “What we were? I thought we were in love, I thought you were my girlfriend. You told me you loved me.”

“And I do love you Tate, just not in the way you love me. You’re like my best friend, of course I have love for you,” you reply, only making the anger build inside him.

“You don’t hook up with your best friend,” he says. He stands up, his anger taking control. He runs his hands through his hair, he needs to calm down. “You told me you needed me. You told me I was your perfect boy. How is that friendly?”

You sit up, looking ashamed. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was in love with you but then I met Jake.”

Tate takes a deep breath before climbing back on the bed and taking your hands in his. You look him in the eye, guilt all over your face. He can’t help but want to kiss you. He wants all of this to be some sick joke, he wants you to take it back. How could you have him convinced the two of you were in love for months then one day say that’s never what it was? How could a person do that? More specifically though, how could you do that to him?

“I’m sorry Tate,” you mumble. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“So, take it back y/n, forget about this guy and stay with me. I want you to be mine, forever, I can’t ever just be your friend,” he replies.

You shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “That can’t happen, it would never work out.”

“Yes, it would. Y/n, I will never let anyone, or anything hurt you, I’ll love you till the end of time I swear,” he argues. He lifts one of his hands and gently wipes a tear from your face. “Please.”

“Tate...” you whisper.

He doesn’t think before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He needs this, even if it’s the last time it ever happens. It’s no surprise that you don’t push him away, he knows you can’t help yourself either. Your lips move slowly against his. Both of you are crying now, your tears mix. But after only a few minutes he pulls away.

“You want me too, you know you do deep down,” he mumbles.

“It wouldn’t work, we’re not a good fit.”

“Your mind has been poisoned by that other guy; did you tell him about me?”

You nod.

“He just wants to turn you against me, he’s jealous of what we have,” Tate whispers.

His eyes are soft, tears still streaming down his face. He almost lets out a sob when you reach out and touch his face. Your sweet hands could never hurt a fly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls your body against his in a hug. It’s comforting, he loves how warm you are. He can hear your heart beat, it’s beautiful. He lies the two of you back down on the bed, his head resting on your chest.

“I can’t keep fighting without you,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. You move your fingers through his blond curls, he feels at peace.

“You make the bad thoughts go away, you make me feel normal,” he continues in a soft tone. “If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He looks up at you and sees how hard you’re trying not to cry. It pains him. He moves on top of you, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes are full of so many emotions, Tate can’t read them all. He leans down once again and kisses you. There are so many emotions flowing through the both of you and they all come out in this kiss. But this time, it becomes more than just a kiss.

Soon enough the two of you are doing what you do best, and even though he’s hurt Tate still can’t get enough of it. He slides inside of you gently, just like the first time. You drag your fingernails across his back, your head thrown back. Tate loves the expressions that form on your face, so fucking pretty.

He leans his head down so his lips are right next to your ear and whispers under his breath, “No one will ever make you feel as good as this, never.”

You don’t reply.

~~~

The first day you bring that guy over Tate watches darkly from the shadows. He hears what you say to him, the same things you used to say when the two of you were together. It makes him sick. He thought you changed your mind, but the day after everything went down you went back to your previous choice. You want Jake, not Tate. But he’s not going to let that happen.

When he goes to use the bathroom Tate strikes. He knocks him out with one swift blow to the head and drags his body down the stairs and into the basement. He ties him up in a chair and takes his phone, quickly texting you saying he had to go home early. Tate knows you won’t go down into the basement; it’s always scared you. He’s glad.

The guy, Jake, wakes up after ten minutes. He starts screaming, but his mouth is duct taped shut. He wiggles in the chair, it amuses Tate. He moves so fast the chair almost falls over, that’s when Tate emerges from the shadows. Jake stares at him, his eyes wide.

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here right now,” Tate starts, Jake tries to rip out of the duct tape. “I can understand wanting her, I want her too. She’s the prettiest, sweetest, most wonderful girl I think either of us will ever know.”

He walks close to Jake, his dark eyes locked on him. “Only one of us can have her though and it’s going to be me. You see, once she starts to realize you aren’t returning her calls anymore, she’s going to be upset, and she’ll run back to me so fast you’ll just be a bad memory.”

Jake squirms in the chair as Tate walks back into the darkness. He returns within seconds though, a bloody stained hammer in his hand. The boy in the chair screams into the duct tape, it almost makes Tate smile. He walks to him again, stopping only a foot away.

“She’s mine, and you’re going to die with that thought in your head.”

With that, Tate starts to smash the hammer into the other boy's head, the sound of his skull cracking like music to his ears. He doesn’t go too hard though, no. He wants him to suffer. He smashes his kneecaps, his elbows, all while the poor boy is still alive. But when he gets too close to being dead Tate stops and drags his body outside, being careful so you won’t see. He throws the boy's body over the fence into Constance's yard, his spirit won’t even be able to reach you.

After he’s done, he cleans himself up and returns into the house, a smirk on his lips. You’re his again, he knows it.

~~~

“Tate, can I ask you something,” you speak.

The two of you are in your bed again, you’re lying on his chest. It’s been a week since he killed your boyfriend, and so far, he thinks he’s gotten away with it. The boy’s face was too mutilated to identify at first sight, and besides that Tate hasn’t heard his identification on the news or from you. He thinks it may be his perfect crime.

“Anything,” he says after a few seconds.

You sit up, covering your chest with the blanket. You look nervous. “Um, I know this may sound crazy but, did you kill Jake?”

“What?” Tate replies. How did you find out?

“That body in Constance’s yard, it was Jake,” you answer.

“Why would you assume it was me? Of course, I didn’t kill him that would be crazy,” he lies, pretending to be offended at your accusation.

“You were the only one who had a problem with him Tate, and you live right near my house. Listen I won’t- I won’t turn you in just tell me the truth,” you explain.

Tate sits up too and looks you in the eye. “Why does it matter? You’re back with me y/n, and since he’s been gone there haven’t been any issues between us. I thought you were happy.”

You scoff and get out of bed. “Tate you killed an innocent boy!”

“So what? We are happier without him; we are happier together. Whether I killed him or not those are the facts.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, a horrified expression on your face. “Did you do this so I would fuck you again?”

“No!” he exclaims, getting out of bed on the other side. “I did it so we could be together, I did it because I love you y/n. I love you way more than that jerk ever could.”

You pull on a t-shirt and underwear before heading toward the door. “This can’t be happening.”

Tate quickly pulls on his boxers and follows you. You’re about to open the door but he slams it shut with his hand. He towers over you from behind. He can see your hands are shaking, you’re afraid of him. He can’t have that.

“I’m not going to hurt you y/n, I would never hurt you,” he says softly.

“You’re a killer.”

“You love me, and deep down you’ve known what I’m capable of.”

You begin to cry. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You aren’t stupid,” he tries to comfort you. He wraps his arms around your torso in a tight hug.

“Yes, I am, I fell in love with a monster,” you mumble.

Tate holds you close, his lips kissing the top of your head. It’s all coming together, he thinks. He knows you’re going to kill yourself soon, you can’t handle this. Once you’re dead he’ll finally be able to tell you the truth of this house. But by then you won’t be able to get out.

If he can’t have you, no one else will.

~~

a/n:

why did i just realize this can kinda be a prequel to a cruel punishment???

HAPPY HALLOWEEENNN!!!!!! To celebrate, i’ll be taking requests for Tate Langdon, Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher, and other spookies this week!

Sends requests <3 🎃 👻

All my feminism goes out the window when I lay eyes on this man... Uff😬