Evan Peters Imagines, Smut & Preferences

Tate Langdon; I Will Try To Fix You

Requested by Tea-Lynn

You moved to the famous murderhouse three months ago.

Things were strange for you, weird happenings, but your parents didn't seem to have noticed.

Also, your new school wasn't really fun to go to. 

People didn't respected you there, at all. 

Abused, that's what you were in Westfield high.

You did have someone to count on though, his name was Tate.

You thought he was amazing, and sweet and nice and he knew so much of the history of this house.

But you thought he was a little strange, he told you he lived next door. But when you wanted to visit him the last couple times he was never home, and then, he would suddenly be in your room.

But you didn't mind Tate.

The people appearing in the basement, or things written in the fog on the mirror after you got out of the shower, that is what you were worried about.

Last night even, you were cleaning up your room, and suddenly all objects attacked you, as if someone was throwing them, but you didn't see anyone.

You remembered Tate teeling you something about ghosts in the house, but you didn't wanted to believe that.

But now, after these strange weeks, you had no choice but to believe this was all real.

You stayed home that day from school, calling off sick. 

You went to the basement, still wearing your pyjamas, when you heard shuffles. 

'Hello?' You called out. 'Who's there?'

Laughter was all that was heard and it scared you. 

'Show yourself!' You demanded, but nothing happened, except some chairs thrown to your head.

'You really don't get it, do you?' A voice called out.

'We don't want you here! Get out of our house!'

'Who are you!' You screamed. 

'You don't need to know that! All you need to know is that you have to leave!' 

You couldn't take it anymore so you ran upstairs, slamming the door behind you.

'You think you can tun from us?!' You heard.

'We are everywhere!'

The lights started flickering, everything that stood in the hallway was catapulted towards you.

'Stop it! Please! My parents will never leave!' You shouted into the air.

'That doesn't matter! As long as you do!'

'We don't like you!'

'GET OUT OF OUR HOUSE!'

'Leave me alone!' You shouted, panicking.

You ran towards your bedroom and locked the door.

It was finally silent, but you couldn't take this anymore.

You reached for your bag, searching for the sleeping pills your therapist had prescripted for you.

You took one in to calm you down.

They won't stop, you thought. 

You swallowed a second one. A third one. A fourth one. A handful of them. 

The rest of them at once. 

Your vision became blurry, your panicked breathing finally steadied.

And then everything went black.

'Beth! Don't you dare leaving me!' Tate screamed as he carried your numb body towards the bathroom. 

He was crying, no, sobbing. 

He laid you down in the bathtub, letting the freezing water run over you, without any effect.

He tried to make you breathe again by performing CPR on you, but with nothing to effect. 

'Please.' He begged, sobbing. 

Then, he realized you had swallowed all these pills. 

Maybe it wasn't too late yet. 

He held you up from the other side of the bathtub, and didn't hesitate to put two fingers down your throat, as far as he could.

And then they came out in the bathtub, some of them even whole, but Tate didn't stop there, he did it again, and again and again, until it was just only water you were throwing up. 

You sat there in the bathtub, not having a clue of what was going on at first. 'Tate,' You whispered, caressing his wet cheek, wiping away a few tears.

'Why did you do that? Why would you leave me?' He cried.

'I didn't mean to.' You spoke, but your voice was weak. 

Tate pulled you out of the tub, carrying you to your bedroom as he undid your wet clothes and replaced them with dry ones before tucking you in the bed and laying next to you, holding you close.

'Why? Beth, just tell me why you'd do such thing.' He pleaded.

'They made me do it, the ghosts that live here.' You cried.

Tate pulled you closer into his chest. 'They won't hurt you anymore, I promise. I'm going to protect you.'

'You're one of them, aren't you?' You asked him, glancing up at him through your eyelashes.

'Beth...' 

'Be honest with me, please.'

'Yes,' He sighed defeated. 'I will explain everything to you in time, okay? Now you need to get some rest'

'Tate?' You asked, but your eyes were already closing.

'Mhm?' 

'I... I really like you, not just as my best friend.' You mumbled.

Because your eyes were closed you couldn't see the immense happiness on his face. 'I do too, but we will discuss that later, go to sleep now.' He spoke.

The last thing you felt were his warm lips pressed against your forehead as you sunk into a peaceful sleep.