#AHS Freakshow

[taintandviolent]

Drives Me Insane ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: What started off as an innocent, summer picnic at the beach turned into a naughty dalliance with the one and only Jimmy Darling. 🦞 Reader is from Southern California.

word count: 2.4K words!

w a r n i n g s: SMUT, as per usual, kissing, PDA and semi-public sex (sort of), oral sex.

a/n: I just had this brainrot idea of Jimmy Darling at the beach and I had to get it down. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did writing and daydreaming about it!!! not beta-read.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / written to this

Your feet kicked water up towards the dry sand as you walked, hand in hand with The Lobster Boy. Outside of the circus tent, he was as normal as every other guy. Better, in fact, than most of the guys you'd tried to go steady with. From his manners to his looks, he had you wrapped around one of his conjoined fingers. And he'd done it in only a day. To be fair, you knew that he likely did this with every girl he met in every town he travelled in, but he was sure making you feel special.

Butterflies still flapped their excited little wings in your stomach from you and Jimmy's closeness in the ocean. You two had gone out just far enough, the tips of your toes still hitting sand. He had hoisted you up out of the water each time a big wave came, gripping you firmly at the waist with his big hands. You couldn't help but laugh each time, holding on tight to the curve of his shoulders. At one point, he'd pulled you in for a kiss and wrapped both arms around you, his hands just grazing the top of your ass. You shivered and blamed the cold water.

Jimmy dropped down to the blanket, lounging happily. You towelled yourself off delicately, wicking away the crystalline drops that dotted your skin. His hair was only damp at the nape of his neck, but Jimmy didn't seem to mind his body being wet. You didn't mind it either - not after seeing the way the water glistened on his abdomen. After taking your hair out of the swimcap, you shook your head lightly, your lush curls bouncing with the motion. Thankfully, your style had maintained itself. Finally, you joined him on the blanket, stretching your legs out over the edge to dip your toes into the warm sand.

A seagull sang its shrill song above you, and you watched through squinted eyes as it flew towards the horizon, gliding over the breeze. With the sand between your red-tipped toes, the briny sea air tousling your locks, and a handsome guy by your side, you were in heaven. Everything about this felt like a movie, from the cute little picnic basket he'd brought, to the way that the sun glittered, reflecting off the waves as they crashed onto the shore. You looked over, watching Jimmy Darling as he lazily watched the sea, propping himself up on his elbows. He was still shirtless and wore a pair of yellow Catalina swim trunks that complimented the tanness of his skin beautifully. His muscles were on display for you to ogle, which you did willingly. He really was handsome; an All-American Boy with his chocolatey eyes and sugar-sweet smile.

Noticing that your attention was on him, he immediately sat up, reaching for the picnic basket. "You want a sandwich or somethin'? A soda? What can I getcha', doll?"

He was so attentive to your needs – butterflies fluttered again in your stomach at the thought. With a demure, red-lipped smile, you shook your head and with the back of your hand, brushed away the strand of hair that had blown across your face. 

"No, nothing, Jimmy. I was just looking at you..." Your voice was soft, sweet, and to Jimmy, had a hint of that Southern California accent. 

"Oh yea?" He asks, shifting his weight to lean closer to you. His eyes darted to your lips and with a cheeky grin, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, wanting to taste you. 

"Yeah!" you said back, playfully stern. You pivoted your body to face his, daring him to counter you. And... He did, by dipping his head down to plant a quick kiss on your waiting lips. You tittered, delighted, licking the remnants of him off your lips. 

"Mmh," he hummed, kissing you again. And again. "Mmmh! Baby! You taste like a.. like a cupcake or somethin', you know that?" 

His big, strong hands roamed your body, starting at your thighs and moving up and around to the small of your back. His touch was feverish and hungry, and you watched them as they moved. He heard your breath hitch and redirected his kisses to your collarbone, suddenly hungrier. He sucked at the skin, surely leaving hickeys in his path.

"Jimmy– Jimmy!" You bowed your head, almost ducking away from him.

"Sorry, baby, I just can't keep my hands off of ya'."

"...drives me insane..." you whispered, before turning your eyes to the horizon. You were getting too turned on to think clearly, and the knot in your stomach wound tighter around itself. You wanted him. Bad.

Your eyes lifted, looking sheepishly up at the other beachy patrons as they passed, their feet leaving imprints on the sand in front of you. Some of them watched as Jimmy nuzzled into your neck, smearing hungry kisses along your skin. His hands were wrapped around you and hiding behind your back, so to most, you assumed you looked like a normal couple, happily canoodling by the seaside. You felt the sting of disapproval from some older onlookers, but the way that Jimmy was kissing and sucking on the nape of your neck was too distracting -- you couldn't find it in you to care enough to stop him a second time.

Jimmy – now Jimmy was on cloud nine. The sun was warm on his shoulders, the breeze fluffing his caramel locks, and a pretty girl was in his arms. Nothin' better in his mind. As soon as the troupe had pulled into Santa Monica, parking their caravans and setting up in an empty lot near the beach, Jimmy's radar was up. He'd heard rumours of how pretty the West Coast girls were, and after spending so much time on the East Coast, he'd been hankering to taste their sunkissed, salty skin. When he'd spotted you in line with your perfect red pout and shimmering locks, he'd made a beeline for you, schmoozing and talking about how much you were gonna' enjoy the show. He, of course, wasn't wrong and it might've been because he paid special attention to you during his musical number. Whatever the reason was, he'd asked you out on a picnic date, and much to his delight, you accepted (although perhaps a little too quickly for your liking).

"Baby," he murmured into your skin, just below your ear. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine. "Whaddya' say we go back in one of those tents and have a little fun, huh?"

You looked behind him, following his gaze. There was a row of striped changing tents near the top of the beach, some of which were unoccupied. You couldn't help but cover your mouth as a gasp escaped; what he was proposing seemed so naughty. In public? You'd never... oh, but with him? You would. You'd do anything in the world with him and all he had to do was ask.

"You promise we won't get caught?"

"I promise."

Jimmy got up first, hand extended towards you to lift you up. You took it without another thought, and after being hoisted up, he took off, running giddily towards the tents. Giggling, you followed behind Jimmy as he ran, his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist, practically dragging you up the bank.

Once you made it to the tents, you popped your head in, taking a curious peek. The rest of your body followed shortly after. There was a small stool inside, intended for people to sit on while they changed. It wouldn't be utilized for that purpose, you thought.

Jimmy stood outside the tent, casually rocking back and forth on his heels, his fingers locked behind his back. He even whistled a happy little tune until no one would suspect that he was going to pop inside with you. To any passerbys, it just looked like he was waiting for his girlfriend to exit the tent. No funny business happening there. Heck no. 

When Jimmy finally ducked into the tent, he had a starved glimmer in his eyes and headed straight for you, his hands connecting to your hips. Your mouths collided, tongues wrestling each other for dominance like two horny teenagers. He took fistfuls of your breasts through the fabric of your swim top, kneading them hungrily. Abruptly, he dug underneath the elastic and tweaked your nipple, rubbing at it with his thumb. You broke the kiss to glance down. Smiled coyly. Jimmy's yellow shorts weren't doing much to hide his erection; the thin fabric had a clear outline of his quickly hardening cock, and a wet spot grew at the tip.

The sun shone through the red and white striped fabric, casting a warm, ruddy glow on Jimmy's face. You wondered if he felt at home in this miniature circus tent. "Hang on a sec, wait..." you whispered, as you reached around his back, tying the panels of fabric shut.

"You're that worried, huh?" Jimmy's hand slipped from your top.

"I don't know what kinda' freaky stuff you're into, but I don't want anyone walking in."

With a hushed tone, he replied: ,"Nobody is gonna' walk in, dollface."

He wrapped one arm around your back, pulling you tight to his hip and kissed you again. Jimmy's other hand trailed down your bare stomach until he came to the hem of your ruched shorts, where the tips of his fingers delved behind the elastic, creeping closer and closer to your folds. Once he found your slit, he slipped in between and immediately applied pressure to your clit, teasing you. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. Shortly after, he started drawing small circles around the bundle of nerves, hot and swelling with each passing second. Everything he did felt so good.

Feeling confident, Jimmy teased your entrance with his fingers. His deformity certainly hadn't inhibited him from gaining experience in pleasuring women. In fact, Jimmy swore up and down it made him better. Women across the US craved his conjoined fingers with all their girth and length, moaning desperately as they hit all the right spots when he fingered them.

In fear of making you scream his name, Jimmy couldn't give you the full Lobster Boy treatment - not here. He inserted just the tips of his fingers, up to the first knuckles, pumping slowly in and out. His thumb massaged your clit still, the dual stimulation sending to the skies and back again. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before you came. You were wetter than the ocean, and he loved it. Jimmy's tongue ran along his bottom lip, watching you as you writhed in his grip.

"Feel good?"

Breathlessly, you nodded. Jimmy withdrew his slick fingers from your cunt, his weighted gaze on you. He hummed in satisfaction. The dirty, wanton look in your eyes made his cock twitch.

"Baby, you wanna'....?" His eyes scanned over your pretty red lips before dropping to his groin. With one hand, Jimmy tugged his shorts down, letting out a breathy groan as his heavy cock bobbed in front of your tummy. Velvet heat pressed into your flesh, the pre-cum that oozed from the slit sliding against your stomach as he breathed. You knew what he was asking.

You sunk to your knees, settling into the shade-cooled sand. With Jimmy's cock in front of your face, you swallowed, wetting your throat. His conjoined digits wrapped around the base of it, squeezing it tightly. Your lips parted and Jimmy smiled, ready for what came next. You leaned forward, extending your tongue over your bottom lip and carefully, Jimmy slapped the tip of his dick against it. As your fingers wrapped around the shaft, he let out a throaty groan, jerking his head back. You worked it with your hand, and closed your lips around the tip of it, sucking gently. Looking up at him with those big, bright eyes, you watched Jimmy's breaths go from even to haphazard, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your tongue massaged at the underside of his cock, taking it deeper into your mouth.

You gagged softly, quietly and Jimmy clenched his teeth, feeling your throat close around his dick. It was hot and wet and strong – he swallowed again, watching you as worked. The urges were getting too strong, and the tension in his abdomen wound tighter. Without a word, Jimmy bent down and pulled you to your feet, his cock slipping wetly from your mouth. With a grunt, he yanked your shorts down just enough to expose your cunt. 

"Sorry, I just... I gotta'..."

"We can't go all the way here, are you –"

"No-no, baby, we're not gonna', I just gotta' be closer to you, I'm gonna' –"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. With his cock still wet from your mouth, Jimmy began jerking it, right into your folds. Pre-cum dripped from the slit, providing more lubrication. The tip bumped against your puffy clit over and over again and before you could stop it, the pulsing wave rushed over you. You wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on him as your legs quivered with the powerful orgasm that shook your core. You moaned softly into his ear, riding out the sensation by grinding against his cock. With his head filled with lewd thoughts of pushing his dick deep inside your pussy, Jimmy was fast behind you, exploding over you in hot, white ropes of ecstasy.

Finally feeling like you could stand on your own again, you rested your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed. Jimmy rested his chin atop your head, panting and pet the small of your back.

"See? No one caught us." He teased. You slapped at his bicep and disconnected from him, moving around him to exit the tent. Jimmy followed behind, this time, not putting any distance between the two of you. Thankfully, no one noticed. Everyone was too busy enjoying their beach day.

Everything was as you left it, except that the blanket had blown over slightly. You toed the edge of it back into place. Jimmy approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your hips. He kissed your ear, nuzzling into you.

"You wanna' see the show again tonight, pretty baby?"

You nodded. You did. And you wanted whatever was going to happen after the show, too.

[bluerthanvelvet444]

‧₊˚♫ ⋅* ‧₊✮𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✮‧₊˚ ⋅*♫ ˚₊⋅

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: smut with a plot and some fluff.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of a switch!Tate, oral (f receiving), dry humping, p in v.

summary: Tate encounters a Tumblr girl. (Inspirated a lot by the song I linked under.)

character count: 12k.

full fic under the cut ↓

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2014.

Tate had never really cared about looking ‘stylish’ or ‘fitting in’ when he was alive. He had his own style, which wasn’t trendy nor one of a kind just…his. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to believe he was cool, mostly because the girls that were attracted to him were just as fucked up as him and the popular ones tended to ignore him.

Ironical how that changed in his afterlife, once he saw you. After dying, Tate’s time was spent either with the other trapped souls or by himself. Hardly ever people moved in the Murder House, and whether they did, they were a low-budget couple in their 40s. So Tate’s knowledge of the modern outside world was poor and lacking, especially when it came to his ‘peers’. That’s why when you first moved in the house, Tate was stunned, if not flabbergasted even.

You were struggling with carrying your heavy luggage, muttering curses as the wind blew your colorful hair in your eyes. The first word that came in Tate’s mind as he watched you from the front window was “cool.”

He spent the first days of your sojourn watching you from afar, admiring the way you acted. Tate found out the way you styled your outfits in the fashionable way, how you talked to your friends in slangs and how you spent your evenings taking pictures on your polaroid and on a glowing little box, that for some strange reason you called phone, to post (that’s the term you used) on a little blue icon marked with a white t. He didn’t know what was considered popular now, but he was sure you belonged in that category, judging by the way you looked and the way your pictures had high numbers under them whenever you uploaded them. He needed wanted to approach you, and the perfect opportunity showed up when he saw you type on your glowing box:

“PARTY in the MURDER HOUSE tonite!! >_< :33!!”

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The house had never been so full of alive people having fun. The doors were open, colorful lights were shining and high volume music was blasting. Tate tried blending in, although the more he looked around the more he felt…lame. The drunk teens around him were all different from each other, and none of them matched his vibe. And he even wore his favorite sweater!

Still, he had nothing to lose, so he took a deep breath and searched for you in the crowd. Tate made his way past people as they pushed him to the left and to the right. It felt weird to be seen, to be touched. He found you circled by people asking questions about the house. Was it haunted? Were there ghosts? All of which you answered with a simple “No.”.

“Of course there aren’t any ghosts, I’m keeping them away from you.” Tate thought. Since he was too nervous to actually take a few steps and start a conversation with you, he figured he’d get some punch, just to loosen up a bit. He walked towards the punch bowl, and as soon as he reached to grab a cup, his hand met yours. You both grabbed the same solo cup.

“Sorry! You can have it.” You giggled as you let him take the cup. Tate blinked a few times, eyes locked to your bright smile, before grabbing the cup and filling it up. “Be cool, Tate. Don’t mess it up.” He thought.

“Uh. So…this is your party, right?” He gulped, eyes darting around the house as if he didn’t know every single inch of it by heart.

“Yes! Thought it would’ve been fun to host a party in a so-called Murder House. Plus, this house is giant, it gets lonely after some time…You live near here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” You smiled.

“Oh…yeah. My name’s Tate. I live nearby.” Tate’s eyes trailed upon your figure, he had never been able to see you from so close. You simply nodded, sipping from your cup. He cleared his throat.

“You know…I used to live in this house.” He added nonchalantly, trying so hard to sound interesting.

“Really?! No way!” Your giggles rang in his ears.

“Mhm. You probably noticed some of my things still laying around in my bedroom. No one has stepped in since I last did.” He nodded.

“Oh, do you wanna see? Maybe there’s something you left that you want back.” You replied, slightly raising your voice so that it could be heard over the music.

“I uh-There’s no need t-” He was interrupted by you grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs anyways. You opened the door of the bedroom and kicked out a couple that was making out on your bed.

“Ugh!! I should’ve locked the door!” You exclaimed, closing the door behind you two. Tate looked around, some of your things were laying around, but it was mostly all his.

“Dude you left everything here!” You giggled. Tate forced out a chuckle, everything was of course still there, since he ‘lived’ there normally and never moved.

“Yeah, uh…Guess I left in a hurry.” He muttered awkwardly and grabbed some of his Nirvana CDs.

“There they were…!” He pretended as if he didn’t just play them everyday before you came.

“CDs? Didn’t you use an IPod or something?” You gave him a confused look.

“Oh uh…no, I prefer CDs.” He nodded, as if he knew what an IPod was.

“You don’t use your phone?” You asked, raising up your glowing box.

“No, I…don’t have one.” He gulped.

“Damn, how do you handle that? I could never live without Tumblr or Instagram.” You chuckled.

“...Yea, um…just not my thing, y’know?” He cleared his throat, trying his best to change the subject.

“Oh, yea. I’ve met some people like that. I envy y’all, y’know? Tumblr’s literally addicting to me. Can’t help it though, love when people comment nice stuff and see you as inspiring, y’know?” You chuckled, sitting down on his your bed.

“Uh…can’t really relate. I’ve always been pretty invisible.” He shrugged.

“Oh…you don’t seem so bad. I like the whole grungy vibe.” You grinned, pointing to his outfit.

“Oh- uh…thank you.” He hoped it was a good thing to be ‘grungy’...or whatever you said.

“Yea, looks good on you. Doesn’t really fit me tho.” You giggled.

“You’d look gorgeous in anything.” Was what Tate wanted to say, but he didn’t wanna push his luck too far, so he just forced a shy chuckle.

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You spent something like 30 minutes just laughing and getting to know each other while laying on the bed. During this whole time, he couldn’t help but think about how breathtaking you were: your smile, your eyes, your body, your personality, your whole being. You were perfect. Perfect for him. He found himself to be completely mesmerized by you, he needed you to be his, he needed you to make him feel loved, alive. He wondered how you did it, how ever since the first second you spent next to him, his heart started beating for the first time since he died. His body felt warm, his skin didn’t feel so cold anymore, he started breathing again. He was addicted to this feeling, so he did the only reasonable thing he would’ve done if he was actually alive, he gently grabbed your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. Everything felt just better after he kissed you, as if after that whole hell he had been through he finally reached paradise. He felt even more surprised when you kissed back, your lips moving in sync with his. He moved to lay on top of you, balancing his weight so he didn’t crush you, his lips never leaving yours as his fingertips danced across your body. His tongue slipped in your mouth, swirling around yours in a passionate dance. He let out some deep throaty groans, he felt his desire grow as it coursed through his veins. He needed to feel you, so he deepened his kisses. When you moved your lips down on his jaw and then his neck, he almost lost it. He felt embarrassed for moaning so much and basically becoming a mess under your touch, but he relaxed as soon as he felt your lips curling up in a smile against his skin. He moved on to devour your neck, grinning as he felt you moan now. His hands gripped every inch of your body.

“You’re so…beautiful…” He mumbled against your skin, grabbing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He looked up at you while tugging at your shirt, silently asking for consent to peel it off of you.

“You can take off whatever you want...” You winked, giving him a cute smile. He immediately peeled off both his and your clothes, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips worked hungrily on your collarbone, leaving marks that will most likely turn into hickeys the next day, then placed kisses on the valley between your breasts, a tiny whine leaving him when his fingers failed at desperately trying to undo the clasp of your bra.

You giggled and helped him, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor. He immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently while looking up at you with those brown puppy eyes of his. You smiled and twirled a strand of his blonde locks between your fingers, soft moans escaping your lips. He kept switching between sucking your left then right nipple, his hand groping the one he wasn’t attacking with his mouth. He felt himself getting harder as he felt the warmth radiating from your body, so while his mouth worked wonders, he desperately brushed his growing bulge from under his boxers on your leg. He let out some needy whines, and he couldn’t help but mutter sweet words against your skin as he lowered down to trail kisses on your tummy.

“So perfect f’me…” His words came out muffled as he trailed his kisses down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and then on the fabric of your panties. You moaned when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down, as his lips immediately worked on your clit.

“Ah…just like that Tate…don’t stop…” You moaned when he started to suckle gently, soft whines leaving his mouth as well. As he got more needy himself, his mouth lowered on your entrance, his tongue gently brushing against your wet folds, finally entering you after teasing you a slight bit. What you felt was pure bliss, unholy sounds leaving your lips every time his tongue sped up. When you looked down, you found Tate looking up at you with those brown doe eyes from between your legs, as he worked his magic. The sight only drove you to the edge, your moans getting louder as you came on his face. He groaned and cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure not to miss any single droplet of your cum.

“So good…you taste so fucking good…” He moaned into your ear, pressing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Wanna be inside of you…please? please let me…” He whined while rubbing his hard dick against your flesh. You nodded and just like that he didn't waste any more time, he abruptly pulled his boxer down, groaning as the cold air hit his shaft, and lined up with your entrance. While you were still coming down from your high after the intense orgasm, Tate pushed his dick inside of you slowly, moaning uncontrollably once he felt your tight walls clenching around him. You were relieved that this encounter happened when you threw a party, or every single soul nearby would’ve heard the throaty groans and moans leaving his lips.

“Mh…tight…so tight…so pretty-can I move please? I’ll be- ah…I’ll be careful-please-” He whined against your neck, as his blonde strands caressed your face gently. You agreed, and just like that he was thrusting in and out of you, first slowly, then at a steady pace. The room was filled with filthy moans, yours and his, and the repetitive sound of skin against skin, as your sweaty bodies were sliding one against each other. He felt like he was going insane as his mind couldn't help but focus on you and you only. Every moment was more pleasurable and he felt like he was closer and closer, so he muttered in your ear, still thrusting into you.

“Close…so close…don’t think i’m gonna last-ah…longer…please please please…want you to cum too…” He babbled as his brain turned into mush.

“Ah-! Mhm…m’close too…” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even more.

“Please-mh…cum on my dick? yeah? wanna feel you..please…” He whimpered, he felt like he couldn’t contain his upcoming orgasm. You couldn’t even respond as the repetitive brushing of his tip against your G-spot drove you to the edge. Letting out a loud moan, you came for the second time while he was still inside of you. That caused Tate’s eyes to roll back, his groans only filling the room as the feeling of your cum dripping on his length and your walls squeezing it, was too much to bear. He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, then he collapsed next to you.

He spent the next moments cuddling up against you, thinking about everything. His hands were playing with your hair, and when he looked down he found your eyes closed and your breath steady. He smiled at the sight, wanting every night of his afterlife to end like this and determined to make that happen. He kept placing sweet kisses on the top of your head, while he wondered how he was gonna explain to you that he died before Tumblr even existed.

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taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @doll3tt33 @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @dykejugheadjones @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

a/n: rahhhh tate's such a loser needy boy. BTW spent sm time on this fic, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!! hope you like it! this is for my tumblr girlies🩷

all rights reserved!!

[sleepingdead96]

Prepared for Anything Part One

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?” 

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with ya’ll.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

[maybethistimemegz]

American Horror Story (2011-Present)

[t4tesgirl]

We love we stan

[frankenkyle19]

[ahsfreak90]

Finn Wittrock in “Luckiest Girl Alive” 🔥

[yes-divine-ruler]

(18+!) Also can’t stop thinking about… Jimmy being drunk and a munch for you, the contortionist reader

“Do that thing again,” Jimmy’s hands are grappling at the back of your thighs, keeping himself up right. Your legs fold and bend backwards, your head tucked securely between your knees. Jimmy mumbles something incoherent, his hands caressing the expanse of your thighs. You mewl under him, the sensation of his rough palms against your soft, subtle skin clouding your mind one stroke at a time. “How do you do that?” Jimmy asks softly, his face lowering down towards the apex of your thighs, his warm breath fanning your pulsing heat. “Practice? I guess,” you laugh at him as he stumbles, and you almost unfold yourself to help him before he stops you. “No. Stay like that, fuck, my god,” Jimmy can feel the pain of his hard cock ramming against the zipper of his jeans through his boxers. “Why?” You ask skeptically, the response you receive much more than what you expected. Jimmy tugs at the part of your leotard that clips between your legs, so hard that one delicate button scatters across the floor of the trailer. You gasp for air, “what? Jimmy! Stop!” watching in shock as Jimmy rips your panties down the middle. Finally, exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry, drunken eyes. He dives in almost immediately, slurping at your arousal as it drips down towards your clit. Flat on your back and locked in by your own legs, all you can do is watch in awe as he nudges his nose up against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue dips, swirling to explore your pulsing walls. “J-Jimmy! Oh my god!” You yelp with a mix of surprise and pleasure as Jimmy stretches you open with his fingers, splitting you down the middle the same way he did with your panties. His tongue teases your clit, sometimes sucking it into his mouth, sometimes only tickling it with the tip of his tongue. Jimmy’s fingers sink inside you ‘til the last knuckle. He curls his fingers upwards, pressing the soft spot that swells to his touch. “Thereeee it is, i gotchu baby,” Jimmy slurs against your cunt as you quiver beneath him, feeling so full, stretched out and stimulated. He has you right on the brink as his pace slows. He spends a moment basking in the moment, twirling a piece of hair by your face, wet with perspiration. “I’m almost there Jimmy, please!” You whine, your jaw so clenched that you begin to grind your teeth in anticipation. Jimmy sighs, deeply, now seeing two of you but adamant to get the job done. His fingertips dig at your sweet spot again, and his tongue lazily circles your clit. Just like that you come undone, dripping with arousal as you squeeze tight around his digits, your clit pulsing under his tongue. Jimmy moans against your pussy, retracting his fingers and forcing them between your parted lips. You suck on them diligently, the taste of yourself absorbed by your taste buds. “Gotta get my cock between those pretty lips,” Jimmy utters, stumbling back again and unzipping his pants, “both sets of ‘em.”

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.27 (Red Dragon)

Simpler times....... or were they?

ah, so it's harder with just the bones. That explains the reacts but... yeah, they were doomed from the start, in that case.

They don't have DNA testing to confirm what's hers and what isn't. How are they going to make sure they don't pull a Full Metal Alchemist with this resurrection?

I'm sure this won't go wrong at all.

And now they're planning to get a person down there? After it took them... weeks???? to come and find this dragon and get these remains? I love them, but this plan is mad. Who would even attempt it? Would they even have the money for it?

Chillchuck went "you aren't even a Necromancer" and Marcille raised him a "no, I'm something much worse."

Love this girl. Love the determination.

Oh, she's 'I broke the world for us' levels of in love with Falin. Got it. I'm in.

At the beginning of the manga, you think 'oh wow Senshi is a little weird.' and then you think 'oh, Laios is a little weird too. That's why they get along.' But now I'm beginning to realize Marcille is a card carrying member of the Obsessed With Stuff freakshow, and that's why she's here. She pretended to be normal the whole time, but she's just as far gone in the rabbit hole as the rest of them.

Chillchuck, buddy, you're on thin ice.

Guys, assemble the skeletons FIRST and THEN draw the evil magic circle. You're going to smear the runes! smh....

look at her go! She screams about eating a mushroom with a face in chapter 1, but here she is, assembling a digested skeleton of her beloved with minimal issues.

.............K-Kui san... did you... did you want to go to med school by chance...?

the recipe card...... I'm fuckin dead..... bonus doggies.

I've seen this panel in so many screencaps, but knowing its context makes it 2000% sexier.

this is............reverse cooking..........................

OH??????

this is.......significantly less horrific than what I was prepared for.

Something still feels off but. You DID bring her back using fuckin dragon meat so. I guess. You can't exactly be born the same way twice.

How heartwarming! This wizard brought her beloved back from the dead using illegal magic! It just warms your heart.

Is it cannibalism to eat something you were recently made from...?

[sadgirlbaby]

Can you please do our dear Jimmy Darling being insecure and so the reader gets freaky maybe sucks his fingers and tells him how much she loves him his hands and what they can do that leads into some smut? i rlly love ur style and would love to see how you play this out. ofc again its okay if not and its fine if you wanna change some things idm

thank u so much! <3

MAGIC HANDS - jimmy darling x fem!reader (smut)

CW: sex scene, explicit sexual speaking, fingering, dick riding, dirty talk, p in v penetration, cumming

STORY/PROLOGUE: you worked and lived at the freak show, in the circus. you weren’t a freak actually, you were a very great singer and used to sing with elsa at shows. when you walked into the circus for the very first time, it was love at first sight for you and jimmy. you started dating but jimmy was still very insecure about his hands.

SUMMARY: jimmy confessed you about his weaknesses and told you how much he hated having those hands. but you loved him so much and made him understand that in one of your usual ways.

“hey” you greeted your boyfriend as soon as you walked into your trailer (you and jimmy shared it).

the show was just awesome, they sold out all the tickets and you were very happy of that but your smile disappeared as soon as you noticed that jimmy was not on earth.

“hello? jimmy?? earth to jimmy!”

“oh sorry babe, when did ya come in?” he said.

“just a few seconds ago, are you doing good?” you asked while getting changed into more comfy clothes.

“yeah” he replied but you were sure that he wasn’t actually there - he was too lost in thought.

“mmh, are you tired? go to bed, come with me. it’s almost midnight” you suggested but jimmy kept being quiet which made you a bit worried.

“jimmy, what’s going on?” you sat next to him caressing his shoulder.

“it’s… nothing, love” he weakly smiled. jimmy has always been a lively guy, full of joy and good energy. he went through a lot but he never appeared vulnerable in front of you, jimmy never gave up in front of you.

“I know you well, tell me what’s going on please” you said getting your face closer to his.

“it’s just… ugh! everybody’s afraid of me! all the people make fun of me and my fucking hands! they call me the lobster boy… I’m sick of this” jimmy shouted angry, you got scared for a second but you knew that he wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself.

“I’m not enough… I hate my hands! I hate me!” he screamed again.

you took jimmy’s cheeks making him turning towards you, then you spoke - “you know, some people don’t appreciate the real art of the world. you are not a scary or disgusting freak! you are the best freak! the strongest, the bravest, the coolest!” you noticed jimmy raising his head and forcing himself to smile at you.

“…and the sexiest” you whispered into his ear and jimmy immediately got goosebumps. this time he smirked for real and lowered is head in embarrassment.

you softly kissed his lips, then you did it rougher, hungrier. jimmy twisted his arms around your waist and pushed you backwards making you lay on the couch. he put himself above you and continued to kiss you.

“people don’t know what your hands can do” you said sexily and grabbed his lobster hands.

"baby, what are ya doing?" he smiled.

“touch me” you said and sucked his fingers. jimmy was completely turning on. he pulled up your dress and inserted a pair of fingers inside you. you gasped and started to move your pelvis in sync with his thrusts.

“god I love you” you moaned. “and your magic hands” you continued.

jimmy pushed hard into you, until he suddenly took his fingers off and put the whole hand inside.

“oh my god!” you cried out. it was hurting a little bit but the pleasure was much more than the pain.

"jimmy! don't stop... please..." you whimpered. he kept pumping his big hand inside your vagina.

the whole trailer was full of your moans, jimmy was smirking proud of what he was making you feel.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" you orgasmed and cummed onto jimmy's hands. "look how special you are" you said still catching your breath and pointing at his fingers. jimmy looked at them and put them into his mouth, sucking off all of your juices.

"I want you inside me, jimmy" you said while sitting on his lap. "baby, I just put my whole hand inside of ya" he smiled and you smiled back. "I mean, I want your dick inside me" you explained while cupping his cheeks with your soft hands.

jimmy smirked and quickly unzipped his pants, then he took his boxer off freeing his erection and you saw how fingering you made him get horny. you sat on him again and quickly inserted his hard cock into your entrace.

"babydoll you feel so good" jimmy mumbled as you started to jump violently on his dick. "fuck baby, fuck..." jimmy grabbed your hips and guided you in riding it.

"I love you much jimmy" you moaned. "you're making mommy feeling so good..." you whispered into his ear as sexiest as possible. this action made him just cum within a few seconds, filling the whole caravan with both of your moans.

"oh god baby, you're the best girlfriend in the world..." he confessed staring at the ceiling, exhausted.

you kissed him and his hands sweetly.

“I love ya” he said and kissed you again.

reminder: requests are always open and you can request about whoever you want. currently taking requests for ahs only!

taglist: @demxnicprxncess

-> click on the ask/request bottom or just comment if you want to be added in my taglist!

<3

[frankenkyle19]

[lanawintersenthusiast]

me if i told the truth to my therapist:

[taintandviolent]

And Where He Goes, I’ll Follow. (Jimmy Darling x Reader)

Summary: You meet Jimmy in a diner as a teenager in 1949, and it’s love at first sight... for you. You follow him until you can tell him how you feel.

warnings: 8.3k words! self insert. female reader, age gap / older men preference, obsession, unrequited love, fluff, angst and eventual smut.

Ao3 link here — full fic under the cut! | Fic playlist here! {Shuffle Off!}!

Tags: @zabelcolin​ @kaismanwich​ @elsamars​ @thewolveswithin​ @marylovesevanpeters​ @80strashbag​

You almost called out to him right then, wanting nothing more in the whole, wide world than for him to look over his shoulder at you. You remembered every curve of his face, his bright smile, his tanned skin that smelled like sun — in two years you hadn’t forgotten a single thing about Jimmy Darling.You watched him hold the door for Evie like the charming gentleman that he was and heaved a distrait sigh. He waited for her before following her inside.

Your mind was buzzing with emotions. You wondered if Eve remembered you, you wondered if Jimmy, if he remembered when he’d turned the swivel stool in that diner, and told you…

1949

"Tell the ticket lady Jimmy sent ya’,” he said, finishing it with a wink. Cheeks red, your gaze fell to your lap. You were wholly unsure of how to respond to such flirtations, and your heart hammered against your ribs. When you looked back up, he and the rest of his eccentric troupe had left, much to the relief of the other patrons.

The syrup on your pancakes didn’t compare to the sweetness in his smile. You’d screwed your face up in disappointment when you brought a forkful to your mouth, the taste too dull in comparison. Devious thoughts of warm, thick nectar filled your head; you were a lost cause for the rest of the afternoon. He’d turned your little brain to mush with seven words, so much that you couldn’t even hear the chastising your mother would’ve given you for being so lustful. By that evening, Aunt Tessa had agreed to let you go just to ease the ache in her ears.

And you did. In the prettiest dress you’d had in your suitcase, hair freshly curled and the tiniest hint of rouge on your lips and cheeks, you went to that Freak Show. The skip in your step wasn’t at the thought of marvelling and gawking at the individuals that the town called “God’s mistakes,” but to see Jimmy.

You wrung your hands as you stood in line, waiting patiently behind each paying guest. Not that you planned on getting in for free — Aunt Tessa had given you a few dollars for food and tickets.

Finally, empty space was the only thing between you and the lady standing at the foldaway table. She wasn’t sitting down, and as you approached, you saw why.

“What can I do for you?”

You bent your neck all the way back to accommodate the woman’s height. She was broad, elegant, and looked stronger than any man you’d ever seen. A soft breeze blew from behind her, fluttering the silk fabric of her shirt. She smelled like flowers.

“Um… Jimmy sent me.” It came out a weak, shaky jumble of words instead of the confident statement you’d practiced on the way over. You closed your eyes tightly, cursing your jitters.

She glanced behind you. You were the last person in line, and certainly were without accompaniment. Realising that you were a nervous wreck with no parents in sight, the woman brought herself forward, resting the weight of her upper body on her knees. She turned her head, angling her ear towards you.

“One more time, sweetheart.” You took a deep breath through your nose and tried again.

“I was at the diner in town and… and Jimmy — Jimmy sent me.” You shoved the dollar upwards awkwardly, holding it as steady as your nerves would allow.

She straightened up, her thin red lips stretched wide in a bemused smile. “Jimmy Darling sent you? Well.” She leaned forward, gently wrapping her large hand around your petite wrist. She lowered your hand back to your side, wordlessly denying payment, then moved to drop the lid of the cashbox.

“Follow me.”

She led you through the main tent, and you followed proudly, feeling like a VIP guest. A few people leaned out of their seats to see the who, where, and why. Eve lined you up with a perfect spot in the front row and made sure you were settled before darting off behind the stage’s. The calliope music started somewhere from behind a curtain, and your heart took off, like it had in the diner.

A litany of ooh’s and aah’s punctuated each act, but your memory was worth a damn. As you watched the show, you truly hadn’t remembered much of anything. Anticipation had your attention span on a short leash, and each time the Bearded Lady came out to announce a new act, you inched forward on the wooden seat.

He had gloves on in the diner, but as soon as you’d arrived on the grounds, you’d sorted out what ‘freak’ of the show Jimmy was. Lobster Boy! The AMAZING Jimmy Darling! Live! In Person! Banners, Posters — they all showcased each of the freaks rendered in art. Jimmy’s hands were the focus of his posters; four fingers fused in two, formed into thick, fleshy segments. Finally, the stout woman announced the next act in her funny accent, and you scooted forward, hands clasped in your lap.

He was wearing a blue shirt with a brown vest and trousers, and his hair came forward from the crown of his head into a perfect single coif. The show lights followed him as he strolled across the stage, deformed hands at his sides.

“That’s right, folks! For as long as I can remember, I’ve been known as Lobster Boy. Son of Neptune, God of the Sea!” His voice was loud and strong. “But my pincers don’t hold me back!”

Women gawked, making disparaging comments as he opened and closed his claws, showing them off to the audience. ‘Such a shame! He’s good-looking!’ ‘What a waste that is! He’s not half-bad without those things!’

“Watch me juggle!”

And you did. You couldn't take your eyes off him, not for a moment. Your heart felt like a scoop of melted strawberry ice cream. You could’ve watched him juggle for hours, but too quickly, his act ended. One of the balls missed his pocket when he tucked them in.It rolled off the stage and landed with a heavy thud a few inches from where you sat. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to notice. Keeping your eyes ahead, you kicked one foot out and landed it inconspicuously atop the ball, manoeuvring back towards you with the heel of your shoe.

Fate had intervened with that one, you believed that. After the show, you strolled through the rows of empty wooden chairs, twisting your body joyfully back and forth. The tent was empty now, save for Jimmy, who was scouring the stage. He had bent over, lifting the heavy velvet curtain.

“Hell,” he muttered, letting the curtain drop. He spun around to the left, to the right, his back still facing you.

“‘Scuse me,” you started. “Mr. D-Darling?”

His head turned first, body following.

“Hey — I remember you. You’re the kid at the diner.” God, he was every bit as warm as he was in the dinner. Maybe even more. From where you stood, you could smell his body heat, mixed with the dustiness of the field, and the butter of popcorn. Holding the scent of him for a moment longer before speaking, you nodded coyly. With the ball still behind your back, you ground the toe of your saddle-shoe into the dirt floor.

“Well, did ya’ like the show?”

You straightened up, widening your eyes. “Oh! I thought you were just spectacu—- the show was real great. I’m only here for another week but I’m going to convince my Aunt Tessa to come see it too.”

Your slip-up wasn’t lost on him; he’d heard it, and caught it with a smile. “Say, you haven’t seen a —

“A ball?” You held it upwards to him, stretching your arm out. “It rolled off after your act… I didn’t want anyone trying to steal it.”

He seemed delighted by your loyalty as he reached for it. His — well, you weren’t quite sure what to call them in your mind’s eye, but his clawed fingers felt so heavy against your palm, and they covered it completely. Anyone would’ve been repulsed by his deformity, but you weren’t, even up close.

Your breath hitched in your throat. The blazing heat that started in the core of your abdomen and bubbled up to your cheeks confirmed that repulsion was the last thing on your mind. You didn’t register that you were staring until he jerked his hand away, taking the ball along with it. It seemed like he couldn’t set it atop the piano fast enough, before shoving both hands into brown cotton slits, returning himself to normalcy. He had sorely mistaken your fascination for disgust.

“Thanks, kid.”

Panicked and slightly offended that he had called you ‘kid’ twice, you stuttered into your next sentence.

“My name is Y/N.” You reached your hand up again, biting down into the cushion of your lip.

Jimmy hesitated.

He finally took it, and shook it delicately. You exhaled a little too breathily, on purpose.

“Jimmy,” he replied, a small smile blooming.

Between tittering laughs, you nodded. “Oh, I know that.”

The second time, three days later, you were just as nervous, just as focused, but your Aunt Tessa sat next to you, fanning herself with a poster card. This time, your attention was a little less taut, and you were able to enjoy the rest of the acts. In particular, you were dazzled by Amazon Eve, marvelling as she lifted nearly everything on the stage with ease, then stepped down to lift the front row bench on which your Aunt, you and two others sat. She recognised you, giving you a friendly nod before carefully setting you back down. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, feeling so very special.

If you had to ignore Jimmy — the show was still a delight. Every performer had a shocking talent to share, and you ate each of them up. You stuffed a handful of popcorn into your mouth, eyes softening at the little doll that stepped from the birdcage. Ma Petite was one of the most darling things you’d ever laid eyes on, even though you were well out of your doll days.

You saw the show one final time with your mother, on the day she came to pick you up. She was much less enchanted by the grotesque acts than you were, shielding her eyes as every moment passed. Jimmy juggled again, throwing the balls higher and higher with each rotation. Much to your dismay, he didn’t drop a single one, garnering applause from the astounded audience. He flashed a smile in your direction before palming all three of the spheres.

You didn’t dream of waiting for the entire tent to clear out, not with your mother crossing her arms as you rushed towards the stage. Jimmy had already disappeared, but the tattooed man was kind enough to stop dragging a crate to answer you when you asked where they were headed next.  

Once in the car, you had asked your mother, “How’s Grandpa doing?” You rose the octaves of your voice in a slippery way to feign concern. “He’s not far from here, is he? In Tennessee?”

“He is… you know sugar plum, I bet he’d enjoy a visit from us both. Recovery can be awful lonely.”

You sunk into the seat, a devilish grin on your face. “A few days won’t hurt.”

Any guilt you felt from using your grandfather as an excuse fizzled out the moment you stepped into the warmly lit tent in Tennessee. You tucked your dress underneath the curve of your rear, and plopped down on the wooden bench.

1950

You had to wait until the summer of the following year, when school was out, to see your dreamboat again. It just so happened that your best friend’s cousin’s dad was a land owner in Alabama, and had just rented out one of his fields to a travelling freak show. You had almost memorised the show by the fourth time you saw it, except for the fact that Fraulein Elsa, the leader with a wispy German accent, added a knife-throwing act. She asked for volunteers.

Anne’s brother, brimming with misplaced confidence and testosterone immediately shot up. He’d been strapped to the wheel while his college buddies hollered, saying their goodbyes. A few moments later, without so much as a scratch, he jogged off the stage, a newfound confidence in his ability to cheat death. Elsa watched the young men, a disapproving sourness in her dark eyes.

The fifth time you saw the show, by yourself, he’d juggled like usual, but this time, he followed with a song. You were in the front row, and when he dipped the microphone down, almost to the floor, you gripped the bench so hard, your nails sunk into the wood as though it were made of butter.

“Oooooh, you come on like a dream, peaches n’ cream, lips like strawberry wine. You’re sixteen…” He looked right at you, and damn it all — he winked again. “You’re beautiful, and you’re mine.”

You gasped.

“We fell in love the night we met! You touched my hand, my heart went pop, and ooooh, when we kissed…” Jimmy swayed across the stage, a true performer, but you were practically vibrating with delight.

You clutched your hands to your chest, feeling as light as a cloud. Surely, this song was no coincidence. Could that have been the sign you needed? You two would meet after the show, and you’d phone your mother from another state, telling her you were married and had run away to the circus. You’d give his trailer a woman’s touch, painting the wooden cabinets yellow, and buying satin pillows for the modestly sized bed.

Oh sure, you thought. The quickest way to get Jimmy Darling arrested. That’s just terrible.

It wasn’t until you got back home from Alabama three days later that you’d heard the song announced on the radio as holding its place in “the top of Billboard for four weeks now!” The delusional high came crashing down around you, and you cried for hours into your pillow. Your mother tried to console you with a new dress, but it was the same pale blue colour of the shirt Jimmy wore once, so you cried more.

Alabama was too far to visit twice, so you stopped seeing him — in person, anyway. The poster you’d ripped from one of the telephone posts lived underneath your pillow. You fell asleep to it every night, folding and unfolding it with the tenderest of touches. It was a side profile of Jimmy, and his shadow cast was a warped exaggeration.

Eventually, the paper became so fragile that you had to tuck it away in your diary and leave it, along with the dreams of being Mrs. Y/N Darling, a name which was scribbled fanatically through dozens of pages, amongst detailed fantasies of the same subject.

Oh, I love him so much. Will I love him always? I will. Until the day I die, I think. But father says that all of my careless travelling has addled my brain — he doesn’t know that it’s not the travelling, but a boy!! — and I need to focus on my studies. Maybe one day, Jimmy Darling will love me. For now, I must let him go.

You tucked the journal in your bedside table, ushering away your silly teenage dreams. Sticky, humid summers faded into rainy, windy winter seasons. Eventually, the rose-coloured dreams of Jimmy Darling faded away, and your every day was filled with the frivolities of a small-town teenage girl on the cusp of adulthood.

There were hard days, naturally. Days where you dug your nails into your own heart, plaguing it with cruel thoughts of if he’d found a girlfriend, or if he ever thought about you. The last time you cried over him was in the bathtub, in January of 1951. Your father had made lobster for your aunt’s birthday dinner. You’d nearly lost it, staring too intently at the claws, hanging limp on the plate.

Though you didn’t think it would happen, eventually, the searing pain of a lost love turned into a dull ache, to a faint bruise. One that you didn’t know was there until you touched the spot unknowingly.

After that, you had a boyfriend for a few months. You’d kissed for the first time on Valentine’s Day, and then split by August. You got a job at a diner, working half days until you graduated.

June 1952 Jupiter, Florida.

It had started getting hot last month, and the world was alive with the tantalising promise of summer. The diner was usually busy from sun up to sun down, and really, you revelled in the work. There was a certain merrymaking in being a waitress. Folks from town, folks from across the country seemed to find a familiarity in diners — no matter where they were, they knew what to expect.

As you did every weekday, you’d showed up for your shift, uniform pressed and starched, with your apron draped across your arm. You checked your reflection in the glass of the jukebox, and tied the white cotton around your waist.

Tucking an order pad into your apron, you froze. Sitting on the speckled, glossy counter in front of you was a stack of flyers. Bobby, one of the chefs, was stretching up to hang one on the fridge. Your body seemed to quiver from the inside out, running cold and hot all at once as you read the brightly coloured words.

Fraulein Elsa’s Freak Show - Jupiter, Florida! See the marvels, the mystery from all corners of the earth!

“Y/N? .....Y/N!”

Your chest felt like someone had taken a mallet to it, and swung as hard as they could, hoping to ring the carnival bell atop. You blinked and turned to him.  

“You ill or somethin’?” Bobby asked, pushing the knuckle of his pointer finger up into the soft underside of your jaw to close it. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Swatting away his hand, you snatched the stack of flyers and brought them up in front of his face. “I’m fine. Who brought these?”

“Hm? Oh. Those. Guy and a girl. Real tall girl. Just a few minutes ago, actually. Why? Are we not supposed to post th —”

“A few minutes ago,” you repeated, trembling. “Was…. Was one of them wearing gloves?”

Taken aback by the interruption, Bobby seemed confused and hesitated in answering.

“Was he!?” You asked again, a little too loudly.

He considers it, and remembers that it struck him odd, wearing leather gloves in the first hums of summer. “Yeah. Why?”

You practically threw yourself into the door, flinching at how hard the bell clanked against the glass. You looked right. A little girl held onto her mother’s hand with one, and gripped the sticky cone of an ice cream in the other. You flipped your head to the left — and on the sidewalk, a few blocks down, The Lobster Boy walked alongside Amazon Eve, who held the rest of the flyers in the crook of her arm.

Insecurity held you back. What would you do? What would you say? Hi, I was obsessed with you when I was a little girl, and I’m still obsessed with you now. You heaved a heavy sigh and returned to the diner to carry out your shift.

As soon the clock hit seven, you met up with your two friends, Susie and Margaret, just outside of where the show was. You’d called them from the diner phone, twisting your index finger in and out of the cord. It didn’t take much to convince them to go. You were all eighteen now, and school nights weren’t a main worry.

“Well, well, well. I was wondering when you’d show up.” You bowed your head sideways, unable to place why you suddenly felt shy. Eve reached to cup your shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. “Look at you… all grown up.”

At that, it took everything in you not to dip around the table and hug her, pressing your cheek against her chest. She’d also given you a blossoming idea that in two years, you had changed enough to look grown-up. You’d take that newfound confidence right to the door of Jimmy’s trailer one night soon.

“I’m just so happy that you all came to Jupiter, it’s been so — ” you started, before your words were cut short. Susie and Margaret flanked your sides and gasped. “My god, what I wouldn’t give to have your hair! You know, I can never get it to stay up in a scarf — my mother says it’s because I’ve got angel hair.” Margaret combed her fingers through her blonde tresses, and rolled her eyes. “Nothing heavenly about this.”

Eve’s laugh resonated through your chest as she gathered your change, divulging the importance of pin placement. Margaret seemed fascinated by the information, and you were just glad that out of all the stuffy, bigoted people in Jupiter, you had managed to find some of the only girls who would be more enchanted with Amazon Eve’s hair than her nearly seven foot tall stature.

The air was warm and heavy, seeming to hold the sweet smell of popcorn pungently. You ducked into the tent, and almost immediately, you saw him. He was in the corner, leaning against one of the support posts. Two years had been kind to him; although he had maintained all of his boyish charm, there was a new brawn that had settled in.

He was talking quietly to the Bearded Lady, who seemed very concerned with what he was saying. You wondered what it was they were discussing, but as the band of performers flooded the stage, they both scurried off to take their places. It may have laid dormant for years, sleeping like a hibernating bear, but it took just over an hour for your obsession to return full-force.

On Wednesday night, you convinced Bobby and Julie to go. Julie was only waiting two days a week, but you were taking advantage of all workplace camaraderies, big or small.

On Thursday, Bobby wanted to go again. He was just tickled by the Siamese Twins, and needed a second viewing. Somehow, he masterfully convinced the callous, burly cook, Sam, who never did anything besides fill up his truck, go the market, and clock in for work to go, too.

Friday night rolled around, Margaret brought her boyfriend, and Susie brought her younger sister. The ‘freaks’ scared her, so they sat in the back row, while you took your familiar seat in the front row. And for once, you couldn’t wait for the show to end.

You’d parked out in the far part of the field. As soon as the tent emptied, you retreated to the car to keep up appearances. However, instead of getting in leaving the freak show in a cloud of dust, you’d waited. Twenty or so minutes after that, you thought you saw Jimmy strolling out of the big top.

With your friends long gone and the rest of the field mostly cleared out, you finally pushed yourself off the trunk of the car and headed towards the mint-green trailer in the distance. There was a warm yellow glow emanating from the windows. He was definitely inside, and there was no turning back now. You stepped carefully over tall grasses and some discarded cans.

You were finally going to tell him.

You sucked in air through your nose until the breath hurt your lungs and the bust-line of your dress tightened. You gave the door three delicate taps.

“Yea—hang on!” You heard some commotion inside, and the door swung open.

“I’ll be — oh. Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you cooed. “Can I come in?”  

Coughing out a breath, he looked you up and down. Jimmy then hooked his hand on the doorway, and leaned out to survey the area. Everyone was likely in the rec tent, readying themselves for supper. For a moment, he worried that his arrangement with the Tupperware gals had travelled, despite explicit instructions to keep it under wraps. 
“Well?” You urged.

Jimmy was never one to deny beauties access to his trailer, so he stepped aside and allowed you in.

As you waited for him to shut the door, you focused on the thumping of your pulse, your heart pumping faster and faster. Back then, you were a little girl with a crush. A silly, jejune, frilly lace-and-bows crush. As you stood in the middle of his trailer, watching him, that childish adoration was stamped out by your big girl passion and unbridled lust. He was in nothing but a white undershirt and his trousers, with an unbuckled belt. You hadn’t seen him in such a… personal setting, and the visual had your stomach tightening into knots that only his fused fingers to could untangle.

“I’m not used to such pretty girls knockin’ on my door… what can I do for ya?” 
 His attention was on you and you swallowed. You took a few steps closer, closing in the distance. Hushing all the whispers in your mind, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands and pulled him right into a kiss. Before you closed your own eyes, you caught his his big, brown eyes widening before the lids drifted shut.

His lips were as soft as they seemed, exactly as plush and warm as you imagined they would be. For a moment, you felt him instinctually melt into you, sending a violent shiver down your spine. When you parted lips, he gripped both shoulders, gently urging you off. “Hang on a minute…” He swallowed.

“Wh-what’s goin’ on here?”

“Jimmy Darling,” Trying not to feel defeated by his rejection, you squared your shoulders. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you at Robbie’s Diner in Dahlonega, Georgia. September, nineteen-forty-nine. You told me to come see the show, and told me to tell them that Jimmy sent me. So I did. I was freshly sixteen that summer so I didn’t even try it, but I knew I loved you. I was still in school, but I’ve seen at least one show of yours in every state you’ve been in since then. Tennessee. I even hitched a ride with my best friend’s brother to see two shows in Alabama. ”

His eyebrows were laced together; confused, shocked, or maybe both. You righted yourself and started again, keeping your fingers laced behind your back to mask the trembling. “And then you came here, to my hometown; Jupiter, Florida. And I’ve seen every single show of yours for the past week. I’ve been front row. Every night.”

A strong knock thudded on the door. “Jimmy! You decent in there?”

“Yeah!” He shouted at the door, keeping his gaze locked on you. Immediately, the door opened, and Amazon Eve leaned in, poised to ask whatever it was that she’d come to ask, but as soon as she saw you, she stopped.

“Hi, Eve.” Without missing a beat, you turned back to Jimmy, and held your hand out. “Even Eve knows — she’s seen me.”

Eve looked as confused as Jimmy was, but feeling like she was now apart of the conversation, she ducked into his trailer and leaned back against the doorframe. She crossed her arms, the cherry print fabric pulled taught across her biceps.

“Sure have. Ever since Georgia. Y/N came what, twice? Three times — in one week.”

His head swept back and forth between you two, and his lips parted. You wanted so badly to press your own lips back against his, and slip your tongue into the empty space.

“Jimmy,” Eve started, in a low, patronising voice. She wasn’t about to watch this sweet, young girl’s heart crumble into pieces. “Don’t tell me you never noticed.”

You waited, and it wasn’t until he huffed out a laugh that you realised you hadn’t been breathing. Hand lifted to the nape of his neck, he rubbed it anxiously.

“I notice lots of women in the crowd, Evie.”  

Eve’s jaw dropped slightly, and yours clenched, teeth creaking against each other. He knew  immediately how that landed, and took a step forward, interjecting something about understanding. Your nose felt hot, and the humiliated tears bit at your eyes. He took another step forward, reaching for you. Mortified, you wrenched your arms away, pressing them tightly against your chest. Your breaths were severed by the oncoming sobs.

“No, no, I understand just fine. I spent-spent all of my su-summers—” Another breath. “—knowing you and I couldn’t — p—possibly expect you to know me.”

The tears spilled over, and as you wiped at them with the back of your hand, you laughed at how foolish it all was. Three years of unrequited love wasn��t so easily soothed. As quickly as you dried them, more tears tumbled over, leaving shimmering stripes over your cheeks.

“I was such a fool to think you’d love me, too.”

With the taste of his lips still lingering on yours, you swung around and shoved past Eve. You’d never felt so humiliated, so stupid in your entire life. You trudged through the field, unsure of which direction you were even heading, you weren’t sure where your car was until you heard Eve’s powerful voice behind you.

“Sweetheart! Wait a minute, c’mere!”

The tears had blurred everything, making it hard to navigate, and even though you wouldn’t admit it then, Eve’s stern grip was welcomed.

“Just come talk with me.”

Though you wanted to go home, you were in no state to drive. So, begrudgingly, you allowed you to steer her in the direction of her trailer.

Inside the trailer, you flayed open every layer of your heart as you retold the story, filling in all the untold chapters that only you knew. Eve wrapped both strong arms around you, pulling you to her chest. Enveloped in flowers and the smell of cotton, you wept into her shirt, clinging to fabric just above her breast. She shushed you, resting her chin against the crown of your head. The tears soaked through to her skin, but she didn’t seem to mind. After a moment of her stroking your soft tresses, you felt safer than you had all night. The blubbering subsided, replaced by uncertain whimpers. You pulled away to look up at her.

“Is it because I’m too young?” You asked between broken sobs and sniffles. “He sees me as that shy girl from Georgia, doesn’t he? I’ll be nineteen in October, I…”

“No.” She shook her head, genuinely. “He’s just.. I’d guess he’s confused.” She paused, bringing a white cotton handkerchief from her back pocket.

“That boy can’t see past the title this show has given him. None of us can, really. Men are terrified of me, I haven’t been on a date since nineteen-thirty nine because of who I am.” She dabbed at your cheeks and your top lip, removing all traces of sadness from your face.

“Jimmy thinks every woman takes one look at his hands and doesn’t stop running until they reach the next town.”

“Well, Jimmy is a fool, then! You’re all fools!” You sniffed authoritatively. “You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen! If I was, well if I…” You hesitated, not sure of how to continue, but Eve seemed to know what you were trying to say, and took your face in one of her hands, the tips of her fingers meeting the start of your hairline. “I appreciate that, honey.”

“OH! What a kick in the teeth that was. I embarrassed myself. I’m a nobody, just a face in the crowd to him and, and —”

Your words trailed off as you forced your heart to callus over. You sat upright on her bed, tracing the stitch lines on the comforter. You’d done this before, you could do it again. “Thank you for being so sweet to me. Tell Jimmy I’m sorry.”

Eve wanted to stop you, she really did. She knew that even with all of her mighty strength, she couldn’t have.

Jupiter, Florida. A few weeks later.

The bench looked empty. It wasn’t, but for some reason, it looked that way to Jimmy. He fumbled, and almost dropped two of the juggling balls. Anxiety crept through his mind as his focus drifted away. He cleared his throat, collecting the balls into one hand, and held out the other.

“And now, folks, from the exotic coast of Siam — our very own Siamese beauties; Bette and Dot!”

The crowd cheered, becoming livelier with whistles and hollers. They were the headliners anyway, he wasn’t going to be missed. The Twins hurried past him, but not before tossing a pair of concerned glances his way, knowing that Jimmy Darling never cut his act short.

He spun around to sneak out of the tent, and collided into Eve’s shoulder. “Hey, woah. Jimmy. What’s gotten into you?”

His chest rose and fell in frustrated breaths. She lifted her arms, opening the tent’s flap. She gestured with her head. He should’ve known better. Maybe it was the fact that she was tall enough to see over all the bullshit, or maybe strength wasn’t her only talent. She was damn near clairvoyant with how well she knew when something was up.

“That girl,” he began. “She wasn’t in the audience.”

Eve sturdied her face, and nodded once. “No, she hasn’t been for a couple weeks now.”

Jimmy reached up to wipe a ribbon of sweat from his brow bone. “I hope she’s alright.”

“She is.”

He looked up at Eve, taken aback by her response. “I checked on her, she’s fine. Healing her heart that you split in half with those hands.”

He groaned, covering his face. “I just thought I was makin’ stuff up, Eve! Women don’t follow me from the tent, let alone across state lines!”

“Well, Jimmy.” Eve inhaled a deep, full breath. “This one did.”

She ducked back into the tent to finish the show. Jimmy spent the rest of the night in his trailer, despondently nursing a bottle of whiskey. Somewhere, a few gulps before the bottom of the bottle, he realised that even though he didn’t know you, he had noticed you without being aware of it. You weren’t just another face in the crowd, but a constant presence in that audience. Once you’d left, he’d realised just how empty that big tent felt.

He didn’t hear the first knock, or the second. It wasn’t English, but he yelled something drowsily at the window on third. Outside, Ethel Darling narrowed her eyes and threw open the door and winced at the potent smell of alcohol that hit her in the face. Jimmy was sprawled out on the floor, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Jimmy, ma’ boy.” Ethel tightened her lips in disappointment, hating that her motherly instinct had been in correct. “What’s this now?”

“Ahh, Ma… I messed it up. There’s a girl that loved me… and I” Jimmy stumbled to his feet, and fell into hugging his mother. Confused, she wrapped her arms around him, petting the back of his head. “I’m gonna’ make it right, Ma. I’m gonna’ fix it tomorrow.”

~

“Can I get a shake?”

It was nearly time to leave, and your energy was diminishing. Without looking up, you whipped your pad out, flipped to a new page. Your tongue jabbed into the wad of bubble gum in your mouth, forming a pocket. POP! You scribbled shake followed by a dash.

“What kind? We’ve got vanilla, strawberry and chocolate. Five cents extra for a mix.”

The customer was talking low, in almost a whisper. You paid him no mind. It had been a slow day, and you were grateful for the distraction. The last two weeks had been a depressing, colourless, tasteless blur. The busier days were easier. It was the slow days where you heard caramel voices crooning about love over the radio that reminded you of the raw edges in your your heart.

“What’s your favourite?”

“Vanilla and strawberry.”

He slid a wrinkled dollar across the counter top, the green just barely visible underneath the worn leather of a black mitt. “Two of those, please.”

You had only glanced at it a moment before looking away, but as soon as the visual registered, your eyes swept back to the counter and then straight up until you were looking right into a set of eyes so dark, it was like looking into two cups of black coffee.

You slapped the ticket on the kitchen’s counter, and practically ran back to Jimmy, guiding him to one of the empty booths. You sat him down, told him to wait and you’d be right back. Part of you wanted to use the moment to see if you were hallucinating; if he was still sitting at the table, wringing his black gloves nervously when you brought the two shakes… god, I hope I’m not dreaming.

“Order up!”

Nosy, Bobby popped his head up, searching the tables. When he located the new addition to the diner, he opened his mouth as quickly as he narrowed his eyes. His whispered your name harshly, needing confirmation.

“Isn’t that the guy from the freak show!? The one with the —“

So, you weren’t dreaming. You shushed him before scurrying off. Even if Jimmy wasn’t waiting, you had zero intentions of explaining yourself. You shuddered at the thought of trying.

You set the shapely glasses on the table, jolting Jimmy out of whatever dreamland he’d wandered off to. You’d could hardly contain the silly grin on your face; you never imagined you’d be sitting across from him at a diner, but here you were. You playfully plucked the cherry off the top of your shake, dangling it over the frosty rim.

“Did Eve send you?”

A smile cracked across his face, lighting it up. He bowed his head and peeked up at you under his brow, watching the cherry sway back and forth. “Yeah. I mean. Sort of. But I wanted to come see you. I missed you.”

You drew your brows together as you took a sip, thrown off. “Missed me?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been at the show.”

Your stomach tightened. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I didn’t think I did, either.”

Skirting around the glass, he reached forward, and layered his gloved hand on top of your own. The leather was warm, and soft.

“But, I did. And I had to come and see you.”

“You don’t have to wear these, you know. I’m not afraid of your hands.” You could sense his hesitation, and recalling Eve’s words, you were prepared to reassure him until you were blue in the face. “Really. I’m not. I bet they can hold a woman just fine.”

He coughed abruptly, choking on the vanilla strawberry, or maybe his own breath. You almost regretted being so forward, but when his hungry eyes swept up to you, pulling you in, all that concern melted away. You reached up, wiping the tiniest, sticky droplet of shake from the corner of his mouth.

“I mean that though, Jimmy. I’m not afraid of them, and I’m not afraid of you. In fact, I’d prefer you over any man that could walk in this diner.”

He searched your face, trying to find a mask, or some part of you that was lying. You had nothing to be gained by lying to him.

“Can we get outta’ here?” He asked.

You spun around in the seat, looking at the clock. You were off in half an hour, and Julie would be here to start the night shift.

“Wait here.” You moved so quickly, you wondered if you were levitating.

“Sam!”

Like a big, old bear, he grumbled and groaned as he turned to face you. Grease stains spotted his apron. His ruddy, puffy face made him appear grumpier than he actually was. He was a bear, but more of a teddy bear than anything else.

“Do you mind if I leave early today? I’ve…” You heaved a sigh. “I don’t mind telling you, the boy I’ve loved for almost four years straight wants to take me on a ride on his motorcycle, and I’m afraid if I don’t get on, I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

Sam looked at you plainly, and grunted as he turned, the physical exertion warranting it. He set the spatula down, and pulled the edge of his soiled apron up, dabbing at the sweat at his brow.

“Mmm-hm. You go, Miss Y/L/N. You tell that boy though, if he hurts you, I’ll make him scrape the grease from these here vents with his bare hands for the rest of his life.”

You immediately wrapped your arms around Sam’s thick neck, singing gratitude over and over again. Maladroitly, he patted your head like a child.

“Go on, get outta’ here.”

Your arms were wound around Jimmy Darling’s torso minutes later as you headed down the dirt round out of town. Each bump and dip, you gripped him tighter as the wind whistled past your ears, lifting your hair up and throwing it around wildly.

Once you’d reached the field where the tents stood, Jimmy pulled around back and parked his motorcycle behind his camper. You were nervous, but that wasn’t his fault. Secretly, you wondered if someone saw the two of you, if you’d be an unwelcome visitor. Surely, Eve would vouch for you and pacify the situation, but the last thing you wanted was to cause any trouble. He opened the door, and beckoned you in with a nod of his head.

Inside, you surveyed your surroundings. The last time you were in his trailer, you’d left in tears. Jimmy seemed uneasy, like he knew this, and wasn’t sure if he should offer you a drink or some water. You turned your attention to him and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“We don’t have to talk about things now, if it’s eating at you. We could do anything you’d like.”

“Anything?” He asked, before his lips met yours. He lingered just long enough to ignite a fire in your core. His buttery, warm skin against your cool, powdered face was a titillating contrast, and it made you all the hungrier for him. As quickly as he had kissed you, he pulled away, drawing a distraught whimper from your lips.

“Even that?” He asked, hoarsely.

“Especially that.”

The urgency in which he collided with you again left you no time to react, or to control your reactions, for that matter. Jimmy dug deeper, circling his tongue with yours. You moaned desperately into his mouth, taking fistfuls of his shirt to pull yourself somehow closer. He inhaled a deep breath, taking in your scent.  

“I’ve never met a girl who tastes as good as she smells.”

You laughed, almost incredulously and nuzzled yourself into the curve of muscle between his neck and shoulder. If only those horrible women could see this. For whatever supposed setbacks his deformity had given him, he made up for it tenfold in charm. You hated even thinking of his hands as abnormalities or imperfections — they were just as special and manful as he was.

They passed over the small of your back, around your hips, where he curled his fingers around them, clenching around the marshmallow soft mounds. All at once, he hoisted you up into his arms and set you on top of the nearby counter. Feverishly, he crushed his lips against yours again. He withdrew and dove back in over and over again, obsessed with the way you craned your neck forward to follow him every time.

His hands slid up your thighs, gathering your dress up to your waist. Jimmy closed the distance, pressing himself between your legs and grunted, grinding his hips against yours. Your breath hitched in your throat. Through the wool of his pants, there was an undeniable definition pressing against the already saturated silk of your underwear.

You rocked your hips back and forth, pressing back into him. He broke away from the kiss to look down at your bodies, his breaths heavy and laboured. A thin sheen of sweat had crossed his forehead, only enhancing the blissed out expression — but you’d play coy. Breathlessly, you asked if he was okay, and reached up to touch his face. He swiftly brought both of your hands around his neck and scooped underneath your ass once more. You were in the air again, but only briefly before your back hit the wall of his trailer.

Now pinned against the wall, your heart was thudding against your ribcage. Jimmy ground up into you, thrusting his hips in a steady motion. You whimpered. With an open mouth, he moaned against your collarbone. You splayed your fingers out over the back of his neck.

“I want you so much,” you somehow managed to get out, despite the jostling of his thrusting. “So much.”

You heard him blindly feeling for the button of his trousers, fumbling to undo them. You should’ve been nervous, but something about the way you felt he craved you made all that melt away. Without warning, four metallic bangs filled the trailer, startling both of you. You felt Jimmy’s arms tighten around you, pressing you closer to the wall. Like two delinquent teens, neither of you said a word, hardly breathing as you waited, hoping you wouldn’t be found out.

“Jimmy! Showtime!”

It was a deep, male voice riddled with as much impatience as it was authority. Jimmy seemed to have a more tetchy reaction with the way he glared at the door. For having such a dark gaze, there was no shortage of blazing fire when he wanted there to be.

“Let’s go! Don’t make me come in there!” The voice shouted again, followed by another stern set of knocks. You reached for his face, guiding it so that he was looking back at you. His gaze softened into something almost sorrowful.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered in reassurance. You’d waited years to be in his arms, another few hours wouldn’t kill you. Jimmy set you down carefully, stealing one more kiss before straightening himself out, and throwing on a pressed shirt that hung on the edge of a small cupboard. He reached into the waistband of his briefs, and adjusted, hiding the evidence of what he’d been doing. He kissed your cheek, and darted out the door.

The tenth time you saw the show, Jimmy Darling couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you, in turn, were transfixed, and deeply elated to hold his gaze every time he cast it to you. It was the first time that you weren’t sitting in the front row. You had snuck in once the show had started, and leaned up against a wooden pole that stretched all the way to the top of the tent. As soon as he came out, he searched the audience for you — and found you. He flirted with you guilefully, stealing wordless exchanges with you whenever he could. The most wondrous and shocking talent of his entire act was that he kept his cool. He was slick, but not slick enough for Eve — who looked like she was on the verge of laughing for most of the show. When you both disappeared shortly after the curtain fell, she didn’t bat an eyelash, knowing exactly where you two had gone.

“Where is Jimmy, Miss Evie?” Her little voice squeaked. He was the only one not at the table, though everyone besides Ma Petite seemed much too starved to inquire. Her delicate tone and cadence was so pure, Eve almost felt bad having to answer her question when the answer was so impure. Eve set her carefully down on the table, and reached for the radio knob, turning it up. “He’ll be late for dinner, sugar. He has something to take care of.”

“What’s that bit in your act, about your hands?”

Adorably, Jimmy paused, looking off, past his trailer as he searched. He must’ve said that speech every night for years, but he still had to recite it all under his breath, head bobbing back and forth as he reached the line…

“But my pincers don’t hold me back.” You nodded as you ran your fingers over the joined segments. “You wanna’ show me how they don’t hold you back?”

They were longer than a normal man’s digits, and certainly thicker. You inhaled sharply, sheepish. How vulgar you’d become. It wasn’t right for you to think it, and you certainly weren’t going to say it out loud, in fear of scaring him off. Still, the hunger in your gaze was unmistakable and that… you couldn’t hide from him.

Exhaling a breath, he laughed. Like a halogen lamp buzzing to life, his demeanour had changed. He was covetous and hungry and his gaze was leaden as it fell to your waist, and then between your legs. You felt him burning holes through the light blue fabric of your dress, leaving trails of heat everywhere he looked.

“Yeah… yeah, I do.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat.

Gently, he eased your legs open, holding onto your knees to situate himself between them. Ghosting the soft insides of your thighs, he leaned down, peppering your neck with hungry, wet kisses. You returned some of them, nipping at the warm, salty skin.

There’s an age-old phrase that everyone uses for encouragement. “Third time’s the charm,” It implies that after trying something twice and failing miserably, the third attempt is sure to result in luck. That may be true for some people, but ten was more your number, especially when it came to getting lucky.  

[prinzessinscloset]

"I watch ahs for the plot"

The plot:

[nobitchs-world]

I found this on Pinterest and damn

[t4tesgirl]

He's so awkwardly cute😭