Psychotic Love [AHS Character x Reader]

4. We're All Freaks

**A/N**
I can't believe we're on chapter four already. You guys have been so amazing with your reads and comments and votes and it means so much to me. sociopathsis  makes my heart smile with all their support and I just want you guys to know that if there's something specific you want to see in future chapters all you have to do is message me and I'll try to work it in! I'm a feedback-a-holic and would love to see some of the stuff y'all come up with. Now, without further ado, here's Jimmy. 🖤
Xx

"I touch your lips and all at once the sparks go flying
Those devil lips that know so well the art of lying."
          Georgia Gibbs' voice floats from the Philco perched on the wicker table next to you as you lounge in the summer sun. Jupiter was known for its blazing summer heat, and you were appreciative of the ice cold lemonade in your glass and the in-ground pool your father had just had put in the backyard.
          You close your eyes beneath the feline shaped lenses and let your mind wander, reveling in the warmth soaking into your perpetually pale skin, hoping to achieve somewhat of a tan. Your thoughts drift, covering everything from your starting college in the fall to the boy you hoped would ask you to wear his ring and everything in between, flitting from subject to subject until your head aches.
          You sit upright on the chaise lounger and sip the lemonade slowly, the tart, cool liquid soothing your dry throat. Today is your eighteenth birthday and you're spending it exactly the way you had always pictured: soaking in rays alone by a pool, listening to the radio and enjoying your solitude, although you'd be lying if you said you were completely content. Life holds no meaning for you; each day holds the exact same triviality as the one before it, a vicious circle that will play out into infinity.
Standing slowly, you tie your thick hair back with the elastic around your wrist and dive into the pool, the warm, crystal water enveloping your body as if welcoming it home, and you swim a few laps before coming up for air.
"[Y/N]!" You hear your mother calling for you just as you pull yourself up out of the water.
"Out back, Mother!" You answer, burying your face in the thick terry towel you'd set out, hurrying to dry yourself off. You look up the exact moment she steps outside, looking regal as always, a floral print boatneck tea dress hugging her slender figure in all the right places. She sighs in exasperation.
          "[Y/N], I thought I told you to be dressed and ready by four o'clock. It's now almost four thirty!" She fingers the pearls at her throat, her tell-tale sign of upset. Your mother's state of mind was...fragile at best, and it took very little to send her into an apoplectic fit.
You bite back a snarky retort. "I'm sorry, Mother. I wasn't thinking."
Her face softens. "Well, it is your birthday. Just go on and hurry, dear. You know how your father hates to wait."
God forbid he has to wait for anything, you want to say as you kiss your mom on the cheek before sliding past her and into the house. The decor was tasteful yet simple, the very definition of your parents, with cream colored wallpaper, yellow accoutrements, and paneling in the den; you can't help but feel safe and secure inside its walls. Maybe too safe.
You race up to your room, past your posters of Gene Kelly and Gary Cooper, and fly into your closet, quickly stripping off your soaked bathing suit and exchanging it for a barber pole blouse with Gibson girl sleeves, flared cuffs, and a winged collar paired with a black princess waistline skirt that reached your ankles (source pictures at the end).
You arrange your hair into a curled ponytail with the skill of an expert and decide to forgo makeup; your skin is clear and a bit flushed without the help of rouge. One last touch, a white-gold locket holding a tiny portrait of you and your father on a delicate chain, and you're bounding down the stairs, calling out to your parents that you're ready.
"It's about time," your father huffs gruffly, but you pay no mind. You've always been the apple of his eye, a real daddy's girl, and underneath his wolffish facade he was nothing but a teddy bear. You press a kiss to his cheek as you pass him to grab your reticule.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I got preoccupied. I'm ready now, though." You toss a smile in his direction, and after a couple of seconds he reciprocates. Every birthday in the house has been the same since the beginning of time: an early dinner at Ralph's and one recreational outing of the person's choice. Your younger birthdays were always simple: each year you chose the carnival. It came to town each summer on the same weekend, this weekend to be exact...
"Hey, Daddy?" You ask, following your parents out the front door and into the family Chrysler.
"Do you think we could go to the carnival after dinner?" The look on his face told you you'd surprised him. "The carnival? You haven't wanted to go there in years." Secretly you knew he was pleased. The two of you would to ride the Ferris Wheel together; when it rolled to a stop at the tippy top, you'd reach up and try to collect each and every cloud to slip into your pocket.
"What are you doin'?" he'd ask, incredulous. Giggling, you'd say, "Savin' 'em for later!" He'd laugh and hug you close. You'd lean into him and feel the safest you'd ever felt, even x amount of feet above the ground.
"I just want to collect some clouds," That gets a laugh out of him, and your heart smiles. The largest part of you never wants to grow up.