#ahs violet

Dried fall leaves crunch under your sneakers, as you walk up the stone pathway to the front door. Your knuckles wrapped against the wood, gazing down the street as you waited for the door to open. You waited for five minutes, before trying the knob. The door quietly opened, the creaking hinges drowned out by the loud music coming from up the stairs. You peeked around quietly, ensuring Constance’s absence in the home, before making your ascent up the old wooden stairs.

The music loudened as you approached Tate’s door, your hand lifted, pounding on the door in hopes he would hear you. You heard shuffling, before the music quieted and the door opened.

Tate stood in the doorway wearing a loose fitting vertically striped sweater, his jeans dark, his sneakers dirtied, one of the laces pulled loose while the other sat in a bow, his hair laying across his forehead in soft tousled waves. 

“ I didn’t hear you come in. ” 

“ You left the front door unlocked. Your mom isn’t home? ”

Tate shook his head, stepping back to let you inside his room. 

“ Can we put a movie on? ”

You saw the distant unfocused look in his eye, as he stared off blankly.

“ Tate? ”

His head shook gently, before he refocused.

You padded around his room getting more comfortable, toeing off your sneakers, sliding out of your day clothes, and into one of his sweaters, taking down your hair before bending down to pick out a film. 

Just as you were about to call out to Tate you felt two arms wrap around your waist, one hand sliding up to touch your bare stomach. 

“ Did you find one? ”

You nodded, feeling his lips against the nape of your neck. Standing straight you felt his hips push forward, grinding against you, turning to face him, you place the vhs in his hands, “ Hellraiser ”.

“ Is that okay? ”

Tate nodded, sliding the tape into the vhs player, watching your hips sway as you hurried off to get into his bed. He kicked off his sneakers, abandoning his sweater and jeans on the way to the bed. 

Your head laid against Tate’s chest, your hand on his abdomen drawing small circles, Tate’s arm laid wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers tangled in your hair twirling the locks. 

You weren’t much of a gore fan, when the scenes came on, Tate’s hand came to cover your eyes, smiling as you kept asking if it was over yet. Slowly Tate’s hand left your eyes, freeing your gaze to focus back on the television. 

The movie ended, the room going dark as the tape ended. Your eyes found Tate’s in the dark, his hands moving under the blankets, finding your hips. His lips came to press against yours, his tongue pushing past into your mouth, tangling with yours. His hands moved, pushing down your panties, the fabric caught around your thighs, his hands moving to his boxers.

Your eyes shut, a gasp leaving your lips, feeling as Tate pushed in with one solid thrust. His hips moved slowly, pushing deep, slow, and rough. His hips rutted against yours. Soft moans left you, your hips pushing to meet Tate’s, the room's silence was filled with the sound of skin slapping, paired with the soft moans and grunts that left both you and Tate. 

His face came to hide against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all the way until he met your bra, hands leaving your hips he unclasped it, tossing it onto the floor. His lips came to your nipple, wrapping around, his tongue circling the bud. Your fingers tangled in his dirty blonde locs, pulling at the strands. 

A cry let your lips, feeling Tate’s teeth gnaw on your nipple, the small bud rolling back and forth. Tate’s hips rutted against yours, his grunts, turning into moans, he was becoming needier as his orgasm neared. His thrusts turned sloppy, desperation evident, his teeth dug into your breast, a moan vibrated through your skin as he came. 

Your eyes rolling back, feeling as his cum filled you, a moan fell past your lips, your own release crashing over you like a wave.