Evan Peters Imagines and One Shots

Bad Influence

August 1993

Tate and I stormed out of the house.

"Your mom's a bitch," I yelled as I slammed the door behind me.

"Baby, calm down," Tate soothed me as he caressed my face, "She's just mad that you're young and hot, no matter what she tells herself she'll never be and never has been."

"Bad influence, my ass," I pouted as I followed my boyfriend off his lawn, "Do you seriously not get any privacy around this place? She didn't even knock first."

I noticed Tate struggle to re-zip the zipper of his jeans. I held back laughter as I remembered his struggle to button his pants in his room. Nothing could compete with his mom's face when she realized I wasn't there for bible study.

"Let me help," I insist.

I dropped down onto my knees and grabbed the front of his pants.

"Y/n, this is why we're in trouble now," Tate's breath hitched.

"Oh, shut up," I chuckled, "I'm helping you out; it's not my fault you can't hide evidence on time. Remind me never to commit a crime with you."

It was a struggle, but I got his zipper pulled up.

"Where would you be without me," I kidded.

"Not struggling with my pants, that's for sure," he answered.

Tate grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him. He held a pair of keys in my face and shook them frantically.

"I snatched Larry's keys on the way out," he flirted, "How about we finish what we started?"

A wide smile appeared on his face. I could not say no to those dimples; they were my weakness.

"Where are we going," I chuckled.

"I never said we were going anywhere," Tate said.

He unlocked the car and opened the back door for me.

"Ladies first," he teased.

I crawled into the backseat of the car. Tate followed after me as he locked the doors. I was nervous. Getting caught in his room was one thing, but in Larry's car was a different story. Before I could express how much of a bad idea I thought this was, his lips crashed onto mine, and my future changed forever.

August 2003

"Taylor, Tyler, stop running, or you'll fall," I demanded.

Neither one of them listened as they continued to run up the steps of the house. They were indeed their father's kids, as they never listened to me- they both banged on the door until it flung open.

"Daddy," The twins yelled.

"There's the terrible two," Tate exclaimed, "I was wondering where you guys were; I was afraid your mom didn't want to bring you this time."

Tate bent down to hug the two of them.

"Stop calling them that- and of course, I brought them- it's their birthday," I sighed, "As always, they wouldn't stop talking about you all day."

"Ah, good job, kiddos," Tate praised, "Keep making sure your mom never forgets me."

Tate blew a kiss in my direction.

"How could I ever forget you when you made me a single mom," I snapped, "The news can't ever forget you. Let alone Kevin, Kyle, Chloe, Stephanie, and Amir- for the past ten years, the five of them have been coming to our house and harassing me. Taylor and Tyler have never been able to enjoy a Halloween because they are too scared to go outside and see them. They shouldn't have to suffer because you're a bad person."

"Y/n, can we not talk about this in front of them," he stopped, "Tay, Ty, you two should go in the house and play with Rose or the other twins- just stay away from the basement, alright?"

"Okay," they responded.

The children ran into the house as Tate closed the door behind them, finally giving us some privacy to talk.

"Do they know yet- did you tell them," Tate asked.

"No, they have no idea that their dad is a monster- let alone a ghost," I admitted.

"I don't get why you don't let them visit more often if they don't know," he insisted.

"We don't even live near here anymore, and it's a long drive," I informed, "We stay on the outskirts of Nevada now- my family and I had to move after what you did. I can't just up and bring them whenever you want."

"And the 5," he continued, "Is that why you never bring them on Halloween?"

"Yeah, I know you and your mother have this theory that I'm trying to keep you from you both," I began, "But honestly, I have to. I'm limited on everything- whether it be social interactions or even funding. I wish I could let you leave this house and spend time with them on Halloween, trust a break is what I truly crave, but if I do, I have no idea if I'll ever see them again."

Tate stayed silent as he looked at the floor. This was the most that I had ever spoken to him since 1994. Every other time I showed up, I just dropped the kids off with him and Constance and left without saying a word, but the kids were ten now. They were getting older and wiser. They needed him in their life more than ever.

"What about their school," he asked, "How are their grades? Do they have friends?"

"No, they're homeschooled," I answered, "They're pretty smart, though- Tyler can tie his shoes with one hand, and Taylor can make a grown man cry. I'd say they're pretty advanced."

Tate snickered to himself.

"I know who she gets that from, " He smiled, "Remember when you made Mr.Smith cry and quit on the spot."

"He was being sexist- he deserved it," I chuckled.

"It's hard to believe it's been ten years now," Tate smirked, "Larry's car used to be parked right over there."

"I know, and it's crazy how drastically having kids can change your life," I sighed, "I was supposed to be a model. I was almost there- I used to laugh at your mom, but now I understand where she came from."

"Y/n, why don't you come back down here," he suggested, "Addy and Constance want to be around the twins. Constance would undoubtedly be more than happy to help you- she hates you, but you have her only grandkids she'll do whatever she needs to help you out. Plus, then I'd be able to see the kids more often. I've already talked to her about it."

Tate grabbed my hand.

"Words can't express how sorry I am for what you've had to go through because of me," Tate began, "I know I can't fix the past, but I wanna try and help as best I can. It's the least I can do."

He was trying- and no matter how much I hated him for everything, I still loved him too much- I wanted him around. I wanted to be the family we were supposed to be. We went from homework and ultrasounds to new reports and murders, but something in me still had some hope.

"Fine," I said, "I'll go over and talk to her about it now while the kids are spending time with you."

Tate smiled as he let go of my hand. I began to walk down the front steps and toward the gate.

"Hey, Y/n," Tate called out.

"What," I asked.

"When you see Constance tell her I said she can suck a dick," he exclaimed.

"You're a bad influence, Tate."