Marilyn Monroe

spunkpunx

4 years ago

Pretty Girls Make Graves - Tate Langdon

Multi Part Series

Dear America; From The Rubble to The Riches

Plot: Reader has just moved into the murder house and meets a certain character.

Warnings: Smoking, Drug use, Self Deprecation, Undiagnosed Dyslexia

When my mom told me we had to move, it didn't surprise me. The house we lived in cost too much, and there wasn't room for me, mom and my brothers. We moved house a lot to be honest. I was seventeen but had lived in over 20 different houses. It was the way mom lived. She had money and time, so she spent it being a nutcase, and we were along for the ride.

My mom was a bit of a hippy, and when I say a bit I mean a lot. She was living constantly in this "free love" dream where it was people's obligation to step away from society. Ever since I was tiny every house we've lived in has been filled with strangers. She lead a kind of open door lifestyle, with constant lodgers. They generally came along to coincide with whatever her new "calling" was.

I was the youngest child. I had two older brothers, Chris and Nathan. Chris was 23, but couldn't move out because he was too mentally unstable to keep a job. Nathan was 19, smart, with plans to go to college in New York if he could just stop messing about with drugs. I got on with Chris better, he was the one who bought me cigarettes.

The house we moved to was a large Victorian town house in L.A. It was exactly mom's kind of place, and was largely underpriced. She bought it instantly.

~•|•|•~

A week later we were bringing all our stuff into the house. I was carrying a box of CD's, ready to take them to the attic bedroom, which after several fights I had claimed as my room. I was currently paying for it, because as I walked in carrying boxes, Nathan kept kicking the backs of my ankles.

"(Y/n), just leave those there," mom instructed, gesturing the hall. "I need your help in the kitchen." I put the box down and walked through. She was in the process of putting mismatched plates into the cupboards.

"Nathan said he's going to piss on my bed if he doesn't get the attic room," I told her, starting to put away the cutlery.

"He won't. Look at this amazing cooker they have in here," she pointed out, distracted. It was a big eggshell range set against the wall. I rolled my eyes. I took a cigarette out the packet I carried and lit it. Mom turned round. "Hey!" she scolded. "Share."

I gave her one and we leant against the counter.

"I bet school is shit," I complained.

"I know, honey. But I've still got to send you, even if I'd rather not."

I turned back to grab a mug to use as an ashtray. Mom started putting plates away again. We chatted, until I turned around to see a teenage boy stood by the back door. I jumped, almost dropping the glass I was holding. Mom turned round and saw him too.

"Hello," she greeted him in a friendly voice. "You must be the new neighbor." He smiled at her.

"Yeah, I'm Tate. My mom lives next door."

"Well, feel free to come in here anytime, we run an open door system, don't we (n/n)?" she asked me. I shrugged.

"I was wondering if you needed any help moving things," he offered. I didn't entirely trust him. He was dressed grungey, battered converse, ripped jeans and a knitted sweater, but was giving this kind of American Boy charm to try impress my mom. If he thought it was working, he was wrong. He could have told her he was a drug addict with intent to steal money to pay for gear and he would have got the same welcome. Mom loved pretending to save people.

"That's would be amazing of you. (Y/n), Tate can help you take your stuff up to the top floor."

"Sure, whatever," I agreed, stubbing my cigarette out into the mug. I went through to the hall and Tate followed. Chris and Nathan had just brought the sofa in and were arguing about it. Nathan spotted me walk in.

"Hey, you got one last chance to give me the attic room before I piss on all your shit," he warned me. I pulled the middle finger at him, picking up a box.

"Tate, you can just grab that one," I told him, nodding my head towards it.

"It's a bit soon for mom to have her friends in isn't it?" Chris asked me.

"That's Tate, he lives next door." Tate grabbed the box. "You can also speak to him directly, his ears work."

"Smartass."

Tate and I took the boxes up the stairs.

"Are they your brothers?" Tate asked. I nodded, not bothering to respond properly. "Are you going to Westfield?" I nodded again. "Why are you not fucking talking to me?" he snapped. I kept walking, but responded.

"Cause you're asking dumb questions. Do you go to Westfield?"

"I used to, but they kicked me out."

We got to the top bedroom and put the boxes down.

"What did you do?" I asked him, grinning. He frowned.

"Nothing much, just caused a bit of trouble."

~•|•|•~

Tate helped us move in over the weekend. It was lucky that we didn't really own a lot of stuff. It was mainly furniture, pots and pans and then all of mom's hippy crap. On the Monday, I had school. Chris dropped me off, giving me a tap on the hand before I got out his car.

"Hey, don't let anyone get away with any shit," he told me reassuringly. "And brush your hair, it looks like ass." I smiled at him half heartedly.

The first class I was in was English. I hated it. The teacher seemed nice enough but it had never been my subject, not that any of them were. It was a new term. She suggested a spelling test. The rest of the class groaned.

"We're not babies," one of the girls complained. I felt dread. After I'd finished I looked down at the words.

1. Culor

2. Defense

3. Axidentally

4. Foren

5. Principel

6. Realize

7. Nessercery

8. Happened

9. Carecter

10. Lesure

None of the words looked right. I felt like an idiot, but letters made no sense to me. The teacher gathered in our tests, and then handed out the books. Wuthering Heights. I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. If we had to read this on our own I couldn't possibly do it in time.

"I want us to read this as a class, now we have a new student. (Y/n) Bone, would you care to start on the first chapter?"

"What?"

"Just read it aloud, the first couple of paragraphs."

"No."

"Sorry?"

"I don't want to," I desperately tried to explain. She frowned.

"You don't have a choice, now go on."

I took a deep breath, opening the first page. The words seemed to wriggle around as I tried to recognise them.

"I have... just... returned form..." I struggled, conscious of how slowly I read.

"It's from," she added in.

"Oh. From a vis- visit to my... landlord." I paused, feeling my ears turn red in embarrassment. I heard whispers behind me and clapped the book shut loudly, making everyone jump.

"Keep reading," the teacher instructed in a firm voice.

"No." I was mortified. My first day and it had been revealed to everyone that I could barely read.

"You will do as you're told, I looked through your test and your spelling is atrocious, now get back to reading the book, and I'm writing you up for detention." I stood up, receiving an incredulous look.

"Fuck off," I told her, grabbing my bag and walking straight to the door and walking out. When I was out in the hall I kicked a locker and kept walking till I was outside. I sat on a bench and lit a cigarette. I sat, chain smoking, trying to decide whether to go to my next lesson or to leave. I contemplated this until I was joined on the bench. The guy had long, dark hair and a Slayer t-shirt on, chain on his jeans and a leather jacket.

"You're in shit with the principal now," he told me, pointlessly.

"I don't care."

"Well done on having the balls to walk out of Mrs Parks class."

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly, not wanting to bother with small talk.

"Dev, Dev Khare." He offered his hand to me, a gesture I ignored. "Come on, this place is fucking hell already. It's gonna be a bit better if you have someone to hang out with."

"I like being on my own."

"Bullshit." He reached into to the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a joint and raising his eyebrow at me. I looked back at him, unable to help cracking a smile. "We can skip next period and come back after lunch break."

I followed him to his car, an old Honda Accord, hopping in the passenger seat.

"This is a really old car," I commented, running a hand over the dash.

"Yeah, it's my dad's old one," Dev told me proudly. "Do you like metal?"

"Not really," I replied, honestly.

"There's a Misfits tape in the glove box, put that one on."

I opened the glove box, looking over the tapes he had. TOOL, Deftones, Slayer and Rage Against the Machine were just some. I found the Misfits tape and put it in the cassette player. Heavy guitars started blaring through the stereo.

~•|•|•~

I ended up ditching the last two classes and getting Chris to pick me up. He dropped me outside the house before leaving to go apply for another job that wouldn't last the week. I walked into the living room to find Tate sat on the sofa with three randos. I assumed he had taken my mom's open door policy as an invitation to spend his time here instead of at home. Apparently her gang of hippies had already shown up. They were passing a spliff round the group.

"Hey," said a white man with matted dreadlocks, spotting me as a walked in. "And who are you, friend?"

"Someone who actually fucking lives here," I replied, irritated. School had been crap, I was hardly in the mood for hippy stoner crap from a random trustafarian. I turned round and stated walking up the stairs to my room. Tate stood up and followed me.

"How was school," he asked, trying to keep up with me.

"Why are you following me Tate?"

"'Cause you're pissed off. I like people when they're pissed off."

If I was less annoyed, I'd be impressed by his response.

"Following me is only gonna make me more pissed off," I snapped.

"Good," he replied. "I wanna see what being pissed off makes you do."

I reached my bedroom and walked in, immediately noticing a dark patch on my red bedsheets.

"For fucksake," I cursed, feeling utterly defeated.

"Is that... piss?" Tate asked.

"Yeah," I responded, my voice wobbling. I felt my eyes prick and hot tears running down my face. I tried to forcefully wipe them away before Tate noticed, but he was already looking at me, almost surprised.

"Are you crying?" he asked me, sounding almost concerned.

"No," I lied, sniffling. He was the last person I wanted to see me cry. I hardly ever did, but the whole day had left me feeling like the ground had been taken from beneath my feet, and all of Tate's persistence to not leave me alone had made me feel a lot weaker than I wanted to be.

"Hey," Tate said softly, cautiously moving close enough to carefully wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. "Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." I let him give me a hug, wiping my eyes on the back of my sleeve.

"I don't cry normally," I apologised, ears feeling red and hot with my shame. "Especially not over stupid shit like this." He didn't let me go, just held me up next to his chest while I made my lame excuse.

"What made you so upset then? Was it the piss? I can help you get him back," Tate reassured, patting me on the back a little awkwardly. I shook my head, moving away from him.

"No, it was just school."

"Westfield is full of assholes."

"School makes me feel so goddamn stupid. Probably because I am," I complained, moving to the stereo on the floor. I never had a lot a furniture, not even a bed frame, just my mattress on the floor. It made it easier with all the moving house. I didn't mind. I put in a CD, one I made on a friends computer. Heaven Beside You by Alice In Chains started playing.

"I think you're smart," Tate told me. He was stood next to my bed, playing with the sleeve of his jumper.

"You don't know me Tate." I sighed. "I can barely fucking read, and that bitch made me do it in front of everyone."

"You can't read?"

"How shitty is your mom that you wanna be round here all the time?" I changed the subject.

"Very," he bristled. "She's a whore." I raised an eyebrow.

"Take it you don't get on with stepdads?"

"None of them. How'd you know it was stepdads?" he asked, looking from his shoes to meet my eye.

"Guessed. Kinda seemed like you were the kinda guy who's dad walked out and hasn't got over it."

"See. You are smart."

Say You Love Me - Jimmy Darling

Plot: Reader is heartbroken when she hears Jimmy has lost his hands, but when they're replaced he decides to make up for lost time

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Smut, Smoking, Mild violence

The words hit me like a ton of bricks when Dell brought the news. Jimmy's hands were gone. My Jimmy's hands were gone. Taken. That no good piece of shit Richard Spencer and his lies. I couldn't believe Elsa had fallen for his bollocks, but I supposed that was his game. The rest of the freaks stood in shock.

"Oh no, not Jimmy!" Ima cried over dramatically. I felt my blood boil. My skin crawled as she wailed. I felt my ears burn up with my rage. She'd been here not five minutes and here she was, caterwauling over what they had done to him. I couldn't out loud admit what I felt about Jimmy, but I sure as hell could let it be known how I felt about her. I ran at her and swung one hard punch to the side of her head. The force did not knock her over, but the shock certainly did.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I spat out the words repeatedly as I continued to hit her face and chest once she had fallen. I felt my eyes prick as I screamed at her, before Paul and Eve pulled me away. The second the anger cleared I collapsed in tears. Penny came over to me as Eve followed Dell out the tent. She held me tight as I sobbed into her chest. Ima was taken out the tent, bloodied and bruised and sniveling. I lifted my head only to spit in her direction.

"Shh, shh," Penny cooed, stroking my hair.

"What have they done to him?" I whimpered, my voice coming out far more feeble and cracked then I had ever heard it. "How's he going to survive in there without his hands?"

"I don't know," Penny told me, honestly. "I'm sure he'll find a way."

She took me back to my caravan and I poured myself a drink. I pulled an ashtray out the cupboard and lit a cigarette.

"You don't have to watch over me Penny. I'm sure you probably best go check on your man."

"I don't want to leave you like this," she admitted, sat delicately on the edge of my bed. She was still so beautiful, despite the lizard tattoo, and so kind as well. I couldn't bear to be around anyone at the minute though.

"I'll be fine," I told her softly, but when she didn't move I snapped at her. "Piss off! I don't want you here!" I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she gathered herself up and left. I knocked back my drink in one. It burned my eyes and stung my throat but I hoped for my own sake it would help me sleep.

I went through more alcohol and more cigarettes. My ashtray overflowed. My head was spinning as I reached toward the bottom of the bottle. With my head heavy I fell over into my bed and pulled the covers round myself, only bothering to clumsily remove my shoes before shutting my eyes tight and trying to forget my thoughts. I lay there, my mind playing a reel of horrors of what could have happened to Jimmy. I pictured him beaten in a jail cell, battered to death like Meep was, or sat in despair at his own situation. I knew he couldn't have killed those women, even if he didn't, because he was here in this caravan when it happened. I knotted my fingers into my hair, reeling drunk. I was just as bad as he had been.

I eventually passed out, but kept waking, sweaty and restless after nightmares. At one point my stomach turned and I chugged up my guts off the side of my bed. I rolled back over after that and caught half an hours rest before I woke again. The night went on like that until the sun rose and Eve came in to get me up.

"Oh sweetheart," she muttered upon seeing my sorry state. She delicately picked her way to the bed past the vomit and brought me out of bed to go sit on the seat I had. I blubbered pathetically while she tossed a towel over my mess and brought me a glass of water. I was still slightly drunk, but tried to be as co-operative as possible. Eve sat next to me, pulling me in for a hug while I continued to feel like a maudlin burden on her. She took me over to have breakfast with the others, and I hiccuped my way through some bread and butter, as everyone threw pitiful stares my way. I began to sober up.

"I'm sorry, Eve. I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"Don't be silly, come with me," she directed, taking my hand and leading me away from the show ground. As we walked further away I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"It's awful nice of you to try cheer me up but I'd rather not go anywhere," I told Eve, following her through the undergrowth. We passed the spot where Ethel had ended her life, which brought back more memories of how Jimmy had been after she passed. My eyes welled, but I tried hard to keep it suppressed. I didn't want anyone to think I was being such a pathetic mess over Jimmy Darling. I didn't want to be another of the freaks that he's fucked and now loves him.

"It's Elsa who said you ought to come here," Eve explained. It was probably her plan to distract me from my wallowing, or punish me for what I did to Ima. I expected hard labour ahead of me. We reached a small barn with the doors locked. Eve produced a key, unlocking the chains. "Now listen. Elsa says its your job to look after him," she instructed pulling the door open to let me see inside. It took me a minute to realise there was a bed, a bed and a familiar face.

"Jimmy!" I gasped, rushing to his side. I burst into tears again, this time from pure relief. "Oh baby your hands!"

By his side lay two bloodied stumps wrapped in bandage. His eyes filled with tears when he looked at me.

"Princess I haven't ever seen you cry before," he told me lightheartedly, but his voice cracked and he wept. I placed my hand on his face and he leaned into my touch as I wiped his tear with my thumb. I turned back to give Eve a thank you but she had left. I turned to Jimmy.

"I thought you were gonna be gone forever," I told him, sniffling.

"Me too baby." I bent down and pressed my lips down against his. We shared a salty kiss. I felt him flinch hard and cut off the kiss when he lifted his arm hold me. He immediately broke down in tears again. "I'm never going to be able to hold you again," he whimpered, and I sensed that there was certainly more to it than that. It stung to see him in such a sorry state.

"Oh Jimmy don't upset yourself," I tried to comfort him. "I have to change your bandages. Okay?" He shook his head. "I let you do it for me," I reminded him.

"Well you have no fucking idea how much it hurts," he snapped. I understood his frustration, but I couldn't help but pull away, hurt. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry (y/n), I just... I just don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hold, still." I ran my hand down his arm slowly until I reached the bandage trying to cause minimum pain. I unwrapped it slowly, Jimmy putting on a brave face. As I pulled the bloodied part away from his wound he flinched and gritted his teeth. "This is really gonna sting," I warned as I poured alcohol onto cotton to clean his injury. He bit down on his pillow and nodded for me to go ahead. I wiped it as gently as I could and tried to ignore his muffled howl. "I'm sorry." He let the pillow from his teeth.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, doll," he assured, breathless from pain. I took his stump in my hands, wrapping it in bandage.

"I tried to tell the police it wasn't you, but they wouldn't listen."

"It might have been me, I was there, I was blind drunk."

"It wasn't, Jimmy. You were in my caravan. You said you loved me."

"I do." He looked at me sincerely. I avoided his eye, focusing my attention back to binding up his arm.

"You don't Jimmy, you love Maggie, you only wanted me because you were scared she might leave you and you thought I wouldn't." I sighed.

"That's not true, I kept coming back because I love you." Tears pricked my eyes again. He probably thought Maggie had left and was settling for me. I tied off the bandage and he raised his arm up to my face, sucking in his breath sharply as his stump brushed my cheek. "And you love me too."

"No, I don't," I lied. He watched me, his stare breaking me apart like it always had.

"Paul came by before you. I haven't seen you cry once before, (y/n), but he said you have been tearful all morning. He also told me about Ima," he teased, smugly. I didn't know it was possible to sound both so weak and so smug at the same time.

"I was worried, it doesn't mean-"

"Please just tell me it does. Just tell me you love me, it's all I ever wanted to hear." I let out a breath I never realised I was holding.

"I love you, Jimmy Darling." He smiled at me. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before taking a few draws. I put it between his lips for him so he could take a puff.

"Look at me," he complained. "Can't even hold my own cigarette."

"Hush now Jimmy. Things will take time," I reassured him, to little effect. We shared the rest of the cigarette and I moved round to change the bandage on the other side. Jimmy didn't speak until I'd finished and stood up to leave.

"Thank you, (y/n)," he said sincerely. I went back to his bedside, leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll be here to change your bandages again tomorrow," I told him softly.

Although Elsa had not left, she had still sold the show to Chester, who although had a definite screw loose, seemed harmless enough. He was bright, chirpy and certainly not bossy. His odd qualities only came from the wooden ventriloquist doll he was so attached to. The twins seemed quite smitten with him, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were screwing him.

I was civil with Maggie after her trickery, especially knowing how difficult the world could be, but Jimmy had far from forgiven her. This was a hard situation to negotiate. She had asked about him, and I knew she cared, but Jimmy was set in his hatred of her. It was hard to sympathise with a woman who had been part in a scheme resulting in the death of Ma Petite and the loss of Jimmy's hands. For the most part I told the truth. Jimmy was not going to soften any time soon.

I apologised to Ima too, hard as it was. She didn't really take my apology, but it hardly bothered me. It was mainly for the sake of the others, and to keep the peace.

That night, Dell was shot. He, it turned out, had been the one to kill Ma Petite. I felt bad for his death. As shitty as his actions were, I always felt he was trying his hardest for a better life. Still, killing another freak was unforgivable, and Ma Petite was innocence itself. It was my job to deliver the news to Jimmy, which was horrible.

"He was my father!"

"I know Jimmy! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you dare start apologising for those murderers, (y/n)!"

"Jimmy he killed Ma Petite!" I ended up snapping. "He killed an innocent and he paid the price." Jimmy broke down into tears again, and I ended up wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm losing everything."

"Come on, baby. It hurts to see you cry so much," I mumbled into his neck. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Don't ever leave me (y/n). Don't ever break my heart.”

The day Jimmy's hands were ready was the happiest I had seen him in months. I came into the barn again to see him, when I spotted him sat on the bed. The moment he saw me he stood up and rushed toward me. I opened my arms to him and he caught me in his grasp, lifting me off my toes. He kissed me, properly. His dark eyes seemed full of hope. I took his arms from around me and held one of his new hands in mine. Mr. Dolcefino had created perfect wooden hands, still with Jimmy's finger shapes. They were works of art.

"They're beautiful, baby," I told him, smiling.

"They ain't half as functional as they were, but my hands have never looked so good."

"Your hands always looked good." I kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled me flush against him.

"It kills me I can't touch you the same baby," he told me, running his wrists down my side in place of his hands.

"I don't care, Jimmy. I love you," I said, and it was the first time I'd said it since he asked me to. He pulled me in again for another kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pushing the backs of my knees against the bed. "Easy tiger," I teased.

"I haven't held you in so long (y/n)," he replied, pushing himself even closer to me, my body flush with his own. I felt him, hard against my thigh. I kissed him again, hard, and let him push me onto the bed, his own weight on top of mine. He began to nip at my neck, and I sighed contentedly. He went to cup my breast with his hand, but came short when he realised his hands could not move the same, could not feel. "Baby, I'm sorry," he apologised, sitting up on his knees and pulling away. I sat up with him and put my hands around his neck, fiddling with the hair at its nape.

"You aren't giving up that easy are you?" I jibed. "After all, you have a mouth in perfect working order." He grinned at me, pulling me into another hungry kiss. He nibbled down my neck again.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to undress yourself, doll." I did as instructed, pulling my jumper over my head while Jimmy watched. He returned to kissing my collarbone as I undid my bra. His kisses travelled over my breasts, wooden hand against my side. He kissed along my chest, eventually moving to take one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as I sighed. He bit down on it and I yelped, scolding him lightly by giving him a little slap on the arm. He grinned again at my reaction, before kissing his way down my sternum. He stopped for a second, giving me an opportunity to pull my trousers off for him. I went to pull my underwear down but he stopped me, instead using his teeth to pull them down and bringing them the rest of the way with his prosthetic. I laughed at his actions, until he buried his face into my heat, licking over my clit again and again. I felt myself get quickly wetter as he flicked his tongue up my slit. His attention went back to my clit, circling it as I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling at it and moaning as I did. I felt my cheeks flush when he came back up the bed to kiss me again, my taste still on his lips. "I'm feeling a little uncomfortable in these pants, do you think you can help doll?" he asked. I happily obliged.

"Of course baby." I pulled his shirt of his shoulders slowly, the removed his vest, taking my time to run my hands all across his chest and take it all in again. I ran my hand over his stomach and reached to palm him through his trousers. He groaned and closed his eyes. Then I took off the trousers, getting him to sit up in order to help me. I could see the shame in his eyes so as soon as they were off I kissed him hard and put my hands into his pants, stroking his cock. He let out the most delicious moan into the kiss. After a minute of this we were both desperate for it so I bit his earlobe and pulled his cock out of his pants, guiding it to the right place. He pushed into me slowly.

"Fuck," he swore, before capturing my mouth with his and thrusting again. I let out another moan into his mouth as he bit down hard on my lip. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, speeding up his thrusts with considerable lack of control. It had been a while since we had sex, so the desperation in his movements was very apparent. He let out the most beautiful gasps and moans, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair as he continued to nip and suck at my collarbone. I tugged at his brown curls and he groaned breathily. He recaptured my lips in his own and I let out a moan as he pushed deeper into me.

"Jimmy," I panted into his ear, before pulling on his earlobe with my teeth. He let out what was almost a growl and fucked me even harder. I felt myself drawing closer to finishing and let out a desperate string of swears.

“Come on, baby doll, fuckin finish for me,” Jimmy murmured deeply, kissing along my jaw and neck before biting down on my collarbone. I let out a gasp as I felt a wave of pleasure over me, clenching around him and digging my nails into his back. He kept going, his thrusts sloppy, coaxing me through my orgasm until a faltering moan fell from his lips and he pulled out, spilling his load onto my stomach. He lay on top of me, spent, and I pulled my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp.

“You really love me?” I asked, as his hot breath brushed my neck. Before he answered he pressed soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Of course I do, doll face.”