A/N: Haven't written any Violate in a hot minute. Been rewatching Murder House because of the newest season coming out. We get to see Tate & Violet again! I hope they don't screw it up. Enough of my rant. Hope you enjoy. This is smut. Pure smut. I am thinking of writing more. If you have any ideas pls roll them my way. If you enjoyed please review & hit That fave or follow for more! Xoxo
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'We need to talk as soon as you get home'
-Dad.
Violet's phone lit up, buzzing against the smooth wood of her desk. A blonde brow raises. Shit, another lecture on my attendance. The mousy haired girl grumbled, thinking back on the days she skipped to mess around with her boyfriend.
Luckily, the day was almost finished.
Hastily she sped through the herds of students when the final bell rang , absently ignoring the annoyed glances when she shouldered the statues of girls who stood with their mouths never ending.
"I'm home," Violet calls, waving goodbye to the friend who drove her home. Without a second thought, the young girl knew this wasn't going to be an ordinary speech. She aimlessly trailed to the kitchen where the pacing figure of her father halted upon sight.
"Violet Harmon," Ben begins with a vein lined face, his ice blue eyes were deep against the ferocious red.
"Sit," he points to the stool in the kitchen and she does just that, tumbling her bag on the table, lazily looking upward to meet the gaze of her father.
"I'm not going to beat around the bush," he shakes his head as he sighs, crinkling his nose as he rubbing the bridge of it, tight lined lips stretch into a deep frown. "Tell me the truth,"
"About what?" Violet narrows her eyes, bobbing her head to the side. "Are you and Tate seeing each other…?" Ben locks eyes with the young girl. His chest tight, awaiting an answer.
"No," Violet bellows, scrunching her nose upward like a small child. "You know I-"
"Then why the hell did I find his shirt in your room? by your bed," Her father had grown from a blood red to an alarming purple as he threw an olive green T-shirt onto the table, it wasn't a doubt. It belonged to Tate. She knew it and so did her father.
"How-" Violet barely got a word in before another breathless shout escaped her father's shaking jaw. "You are not to see him, do you understand?"
"I'm not seeing him!" Violet slams her hands onto the table, battling her father in the fit of rage and embarrassment.
"Really? Because at our session he told me otherwise," Ben grins scarcely, wagging the shirt like a lifeless being in his fist. "He even told me where to find this," he flings it back onto the table and turns his back, the expression on his daughter's face was enough to prove Tate's sick statement from earlier that Ben had hoped wasn't true.
"Dad,"
"Go, just-" he stammers, running a hand through his graying hair. "To your room,"
…
Violet cursed his name routinely for the duration of the night, as she wrapped the white towel around her damp waist, pattering to her room slowly. Once inside she locks the door.
Clank.
There was sharp thud against her window. Clank. "Shit," Violet hisses, her parents' had just fallen back to sleep.
Violet opens the window steadily, grimacing at the cold night's air chilling her hot and wet chest. Instantly her eyes catch the figure of Tate, tossing a rock to the side once he sees her. His porcelain skin illuminated against the dark summer night.
Violet furrowed her brows as she mouthed the words: "Go away!" Not letting the poor soul reply, because she knew he'd win, she closes the window. Sliding her curtains to hide the moonlight.
She was angry with him, he deserved the silent treatment.
Violet sat on her bed a sly grin on her face, sporting a long sweater and boy shorts, lazily lounged about reading an assigned book for English. As always she had her earbuds in, at full volume.
It was a matter of time before the short tempered ghostly boy would find his way to her room.
The doe eyed girl rolled to and fro, yawning from exhaust of the day, she lands on her back and places the open book beside her.
Eyes captivated on the ceiling above. Morrissey blasted into her ears, so loud it became quiet almost. Washing away the clambering flashbacks of her father's yelling…
Tate watched this, her eyes had dozed off into a quick slumber, long enough for him to bounce onto her bed and tangle her within his arms, his palm pressed against her mouth as his free arm pinned her own against her chest.
"Why do you always do that..!" She whispers through clenched teeth when she shakes from his grasp. "And how do you keep getting into my house?"
Tate ignores the logical question, instead he traces a finger underneath the hem of her boy shorts, causing her hips to buckle. "No,"
"No?" Tate repeats with a slight frown. "After this morning I'm surprised you're not begging,"
Red pooled above her cheeks at his words accompanied by a knot in her stomach, his words were always so lecherous; both arousing yet spine chilling.
"Oh?" Violet bit back a moan when his index finger found her clothed sex, running it gently over the seam leaving pressure against her clit. "Why did you ignore me just now?" Tate ghosts a few kisses over her temple, hiding the insult in his touch.
"Because," Violet squeezes his wrist, halting his play. "You told my dad about this morning,"
Earlier that day:
Violet contemplated skipping first and second period, she had two exams that she hadn't been studying for. Mewling on this, she snakes a pair of panties on, if it were up to her; she wouldn't wear any. But with the temperature always rising in LA, a sundress was all she really could wear without risking a heat stroke.
The young girl hummed along to the music in her room as she searched for a dress in her disorganized closet.
"You look good just like that,"
A familiar voice breathes out behind her.
"Mm," she grumbles, swiping a black T-shirt dress from its hanger and using it to cover her bare chest. "Not today, I have to go to school," she turns to meet his playful expression, it was almost no use. He always won.
"You expect me to leave you alone, like that?" Tate raises a brow to her clad form, a smirk rising on his lips. His dimples creasing at either end.
"Not my fault, you don't know how to knock," she shrugs and pulls the dress over her head, knowingly giving the now frustrated ghost a view of her.
Tate lets out a low growl, closing their distance, cupping the girl's face in his hands. "Just one more day.." he breathes out, his lips crashing into hers, skillfully opening her own with a swift move of his jaw.
"Tate.." she pulls away, turning to the side as he nips at her neck, her eyes began to roll—he knew how much she loved it when he bit at her. Violet thrusts her hips against his, forcing a groan from him, he was hard; his erection pressed against her. The idea of touching him, easing him…
"No, I can't miss another day, I'll go to court," Violet moans against his open mouth, his tongue peaking through to lick at her own. He chuckles softly.
"Then lets make this worth it," Tate grins, deep chocolate eyes meeting hers, she wanted to be angry. But she wanted him so bad.
"I won't forgive you," she teases, gasping as he slides his hands under her dress, pinching at her erect nipples. Tate presses his lips against hers again, pinning her against the wall next to her closet. Placing a knee between her legs, as well as yanking her dress upward to her waist.
"Won't forgive me?" he slides a hand into her panties, his gaze on her. "After this," a groan slips out as he glides a finger between her wetness; Violet's eyes roll again. "You'll be begging for more," there was a breathless laugh as the girl began to moan and buckle her hips. His finger slid into her with ease.
"Fuck you're already wet," he bites her neck again and she coos softly, her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into her. "Tate…Oh," she hugs him close. "Don't stop…"
Tate moves to kiss her again, cradling the back of her head with his free hand, deepening the kiss with his tongue. "Mmmh," she moans into his mouth.
"You ready?" He gasps for air, planting kisses along her neck and cheek. "Yes, please,"
Tate moves her to the bed, quickly pulling off his shirt, tossing it onto the top of the dresser beside her bed.
"Hurry," Violet sighs, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. Tate groans at her excitement. "I'm going to fuck you so hard-"
"Violet! Your friend is here to pick you up!"
Ben shouts, his footsteps audibly growing closer. "Vi, you better be awake- why's the door locked?"
The knob shakes, locking with each twist.
"Oh shit," Violet pushes her lover from her chest and pulls her underwear back up. "Hide somewhere," she hisses. He does just that, taking solace in her closet. Fixing his pants in the process, he curses when he realizes where his shirt was.
"Getting dressed," Violet explains, swinging the door open and rolling her eyes, her face still flustered, hair disheveled.
"Did you just get out of the shower?"
Ben questions taking a step inside, the air was indeed hot—but not from a steamy shower.
"Yeah, I did," Violet follows her father's gaze, her own admiring how well her lover hid.
Ben opens the door further nodding for her to leave. "I'll see you after school,"
…
Tate chuckles at the memory. "I did, your dad was being a prick to me,"
"I don't care," Violet moves from Tate's grasp, her body still sensitive—begging for his touch. "You can't tell him about us,"
"What? That his crazed client is fucking his daughter?" Tate takes ahold of her arm and pulls her back in, moving her so she sat atop of him.
"God, do you have to say it that way?"
"You're blushing Vi," Tate bucks his hips upward, pressing his hard on against her scarcely clothed sex. "C'mon…" he whines. "Your parent's are asleep.."
Violet couldn't resist, her body was burning for him to take her.
She slips away the sweater, allowing her breasts freedom, a long groan comes from her lover below. "Fuck you're beautiful,"
Violet smirks and leans down for a kiss, moaning as he runs his hands over her ass, pushing her down onto his cock.
She reaches between them to undo his jeans, freeing his member, wrapping a hand around him. "Mm Vi.." his mouth opens in a silent moan, his head falling further back into the plush pillows as she pumped him.
"Are you ready Tate?"
"You're asking me?" He questions with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw, he grabs her hips and pushes aside her pantyline, aligning himself at her core.
Violet slowly slides down, rolling her hips steadily. "Shit," Tate thrusts upward, meeting her slow ones. "Tate…oh God…" Violet balances her arms on his chest, her nails biting his skin.
"Violet…" he groans, his hands sliding up and down her thighs, he leans up for a kiss. Running a hand over the curve of her neck, keeping her head steady.
"Faster," Tate growls, his forehead against hers, she whimpers and gasps, wrapping her arms around him once more. "Tate!" She cries, rolling her hips back and forth, a knot of warmth began forming in the pit of her stomach. She was getting close.
"I can't take this," Tate growls, securely grabbing her by the waist and moving her onto her back. "You know I like it rough,"
He licks at her tongue before crashing his mouth onto hers, slowly entering her then all at once—his thrusts were hard and quick. The frail girl below shook with pleasure. "Don't stop, Tate please…"
"You feel so good," his voice was broken and breathless, sweat rolled down his cheeks and jaw—his messy peppered blonde curls stuck to his skin aimlessly.
"Harder..!" She cries, her high was so close. "Shh," Tate kisses at her collar bone, slowing his speed. "Not so loud," he flips her onto her stomach now. A muffled moan could be heard as he entered her from behind. "I'm so close," Violet whimpers, digging her nails into the pillow below her.
His grip was tight on her hips as he moved within her. Watching her in this state made it hard for him not to finish right then and there.
"Violet.." he growls, reaching under her to feel her wetness. A gasp comes from the girl. "Wait, Tate- Ohhh," her head falls into the pillow as he circled a finger around her clit. "Come for me," he hisses, feeling his own high roll in.
His thrusts were erratic, his groans became curses and fragments of her name.
With one final thrust he came, releasing himself within her. Taking both hands now, squeezing her hips, biting her skin with his bitten nails.
His lover's own orgasm came crashing in as he came, letting out a soft yet shrill cry.
"Oh Violet," Tate chuckles, laying next to her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. "That was hot,"
Her voice was still small, yet she smiled anyway, brushing her honey hair behind her ear. "I'm still mad at you,"
"Really?" Tate perks up, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. "If that's you angry," he presses his lips against her forehead, the strands of her hair tickled his face. "Then I must be lucky,"