Evan Peters Imagines, Smut & Preferences

Tate Langdon (PRE-DEATH) : High (SMUT)

I usually don't listen to nightcore/daycore but this song is better in this version. You really need to listen to this to top off the imagine!!! I'll put a warning which part you better be putting on the song.  Enjoy!! Leave your thoughts in the comments!

Also, I AM BACK BITCHES! 

SUPRISE BITCH, I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME :D

Firday, March 5th,992

You and your best friend. It had always been a relationship barely anyone understood. 

You protected eachother like brother and sister, you were there for eachother and whenever things got tough for you, he was the only one there for you.

At this moment, you stood around the corner of an old, already four years closed nightshop. 

It was pouring rain as you waited for Tate to come back. 

The two of you spend half your money, the other half on weed, no one knew about it except for the two of you.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by Tate pulling half of his jacket over your head to protect you against the violent rain and storm that was approaching as he started walking.

'Did you get it?' You almost had to shout over the sound of the approaching storm.

Tate nodded his head in response, his soaked blond locks sticking to his angelic face. 

'My house,' he spoke. 'My mother is out for a week. You can stay an entire week.'

'What about school on monday?' You ask, your throat almost sore from making yourself understandable through the thunder and the rain.

Tate shrugged his wet shoulders. 'We won't go. Who gives a shit?' He laughed.

You yelped in suprise and happiness as you got out from under his jacket to jump in a huge puddle, soaking everything that was left dry.

Tate wasn't one to get irritated, instead he joined you.

He knew exactly why this made you happy. A week with Tate meant you didn't have to spend an entire shitty week going to the same shitty school, then coming home to your asshole, drunk of a father who beated the shit out of you from time to time.

Tate grabbed your hand and started running towards his house, you following behind him. 

When you finally reached his house, he immediatly put some wood into the old stove. 

He handed you a grey towel as he himself was trying his best to dry himself a little more. 

You sat down on the carped in front of the stove, following his actions.

After drinking some whisky and vodka together, Tate reached for the small, see through package in his pocket. 

You watched him as he rolled the blunts carefully. Handing you one, you lit it yourself and immediatly took a deep, much needed drag. 

Your best friend did the same. 

You immediatly smiled at thinking what kind of weird conversation would follow again. Everytime the two of you got high, you discussed the most ridiculous things, the best part about this was the fact that neither one of you was embarrassed towards one another.