#and other freaks will notice your wearables and come talk to you

[closecore]

[darlingpetao3]

One of Those Days (Harry Wells x Reader)

Rating: G

Summary: How many times can you be embarrassed in one day? Pop, rip, and stumble -- just another one of those days at S.T.A.R. Labs!

A/N: Luckily, in real life, I only ripped my jeans when no one was around me and it was in a place no one could see XD

Taglist: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @crissymadlock @ensign-tilly

Of course this had to happen to you today.

You hadn’t noticed previously, but now, as you scramble to get ready for work, it’s pretty obvious that your blouse has shrunk a bit in the wash. Have all of your clothes shrunk? There’s no time to check -- this one will have to do. At least it covers my body, you think.

As you rush to make it to work at the Labs, you wish that you could’ve been the one to get hit with lightning amongst various chemicals. Super speed would be super appreciated right now.

Also abs.

Abs would be super appreciated, too.

You stride into the Cortex in as large and fast steps as possible right on the top of the hour.

Success!

“Aww,” Cisco whines, “I was really looking forward to teasing you about being late again today. I had a great line all locked and loaded.”

“Ha! You’ll just have to keep it to yourself,” you reply. Cisco’s teasing was starting to annoy you immensely as of recently. If you had been late today, and had to hear whatever jab the engineer had ready for you, there’s no doubt the rest of Team Flash would have to lock you in the pipeline to avoid committing a serious beat-down.

You raise your palm into the air. “Talk to the hand, Ramon. But good morning to Caitlin and Barry!” The latter two come out from the testing room.

“Hey, you’re here!” Barry exclaims but immediately seems to regret his choice of words. “I mean, ready for the workplace safety briefing?”

“Ugh,” you, Cisco, and Caitlin complain in unison. At least that’s something you can all agree upon. “I guess so, but where’s Harry?”

“I’m here.”

Speak of the devil -- Harry enters the Cortex with photocopies of the supposed safety manual you’re all meant to study.

“I took the liberty of…” he trails off. “(Y/L/N), there’s something different about you…”

“If it’s that I’m on time, yeah, we’re all amazed.”

But Harry’s eyes drop slightly. Oh hell, the shirt is that noticeably tight, isn’t-

POP.

Suddenly, the buttons on your blouse give up in their fight to keep everything closed and secure. They betray you and reveal your bra to the object of your affection.

“Ah-” is the only awkward noise Harry can make. He stares but a second longer, and in that time, his face turns the colour of a tomato before turning his whole body around.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” You can’t help but freak out. Instead of jumping out of your skin, you flee the Cortex, but not before shouting, “Carry on the briefing without me!”

The workday has barely started. Are you kidding me?

I guess it’s going to be one of those days, then.

***

After waiting a calculated amount of time and tracking down the stash of wearable S.T.A.R. Labs paraphernalia, you found that the team safety meeting had concluded. Everyone was back to their respective tasks, and you wandered into the medical lab to work with Caitlin. She’s the last one who would tease you.

“So, do you want to talk about what happened this morning?” Caitlin asks you without looking up.

“Oh what, you mean my horribly embarrassing mishap? I can’t believe that happened. In front of Harry no less!”           

After all, Caitlin knows about your giant crush on the scientist. You’re always confiding in her about your hopeless attraction. And you’re certain the others know about the way you feel about Harry, too, just by looking at how you react when you’re around him. The only person whom you suspect is still clueless is Harry himself.

“Yeah, talk about bad luck. He left you a copy of the manual on your desk, by the way.”

You sigh.

“If you’re going to stay in here and avoid Harry all day,” Caitlin continues, “would you mind grabbing me two beakers from the bottom shelf there?”

“Sure thing.”

You sidestep towards the cabinet Caitlin indicated, but when you crouch down, you hear the most frightening sound.

RIIIIIP.

As if every mischievous god in the universe has zoned in on you today, you realize that a huge hole has ripped in the crotch of your jeans. Dammit!! These suckers must have shrunk too!

And wouldn’t you know it, Harry enters the room at this very freaking moment. Your eyes go wide, and Caitlin witnesses your reaction. She understands what has happened and tactically throws you her own S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt which had been sitting on the back of a chair.

You catch it expertly and tie it around your waist to hide the colossal tear like your life depends on it.

Harry stops in place, brow furrowed. “What’s with…?” he starts. It must look ridiculous - a S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt on top and another identical one tied haphazardly and not in the typical fashion around your waist.

“It’s called style, Wells,” you snap. “What do you want?”

He frowns. “Copper wire. Do you have any spare-?”

A tied band of wire hurtles toward Harry, who grapples at trying to catch the equipment.

“Do I need to remind you of the workplace safety manual, section B?”

“Just go, Wells.”

The perplexed scientist grumbles to himself on his way out of the room.

“Gah, why do my clothes seem to want to destroy themselves every time we’re in the same room?” you ask Caitlin rhetorically. She offers a sympathetic laugh in response.

Later in the day, after you’ve gotten some paperwork and testing done, changed into a full-on walking S.T.A.R. Labs promotion (the joggers are quite nice), and mentally regrouped, you brave a trip to the Workshop.

“Hey,” you say to get Harry’s attention from tinkering with his new gadget. As a reflex, he stands up from his desk at your one, quiet syllable. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Eh, it’s alright,” he replies, in what you perceive as a fake-gruff voice. He’s not that grumpy all the time. Sometimes you think he feigns it to keep up appearances. Harry moves a little closer in your direction but stops to lean back against his desk. “It’s not like I haven’t snapped at everyone else before. Including yourself.”

“Ha, yeah. It’s just been a weird day.”

“We all have those.”

“Yeah…”

You take a step forward, but the heel of your shoe breaks off and you topple over and into his arms.

“Whoa!”

You look up at Harry, with your face burning like a thousand suns.

“Thanks…” you say a bit breathlessly.

“Not-” he clears his throat, “not a problem.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I can stand now.”

You purposefully hadn’t uttered the words, You can let go of me, because you didn’t necessarily want that. In all honesty, you could have stayed like that for much longer than the ten long seconds it really was.

“Right, sorry.”

Taking off your shoes, you’re about to make another break for it when Harry says something else.

“(Y/L/N)? You might want to have a look at section C of the manual… improper and mildly dangerous footwear.”

[get-your-fics]

Violent Ends - Chapter Eleven

Cross My Heart

Summary: Bruce Wayne is addicted to a lot of things to distract from his dark urges, but his addiction to you might only increase them.

Pairing: dark!Bruce Wayne x reader

Series warnings: Violence, language, smut, rape/non-con, stalking, kidnapping, underage drinking, drug use, torture, abuse

CHAPTER TEN

Your hair fanned out around your head like a halo. Your face was turned slightly to the side, burying it in the pillow your pretty head rested on. A dusting of rose colored your cheeks, and your lashes brushed against your cheekbones. Your chest rose and fell evenly with each deep, sleepy breath. You seemed to be in a peaceful sleep, as if I hadn’t choked you until you had passed out. You looked like an angel, my very own angel lying in the middle of my bed. Pure, innocent, naive.

I couldn’t wait to corrupt you.

Of course, the only things that disrupted the illusion were the ropes binding your wrists and ankles together and the ball gag in your mouth. But besides that, you looked like sleeping beauty waiting for her prince charming to wake her up. And I was right here sitting at the end of the bed, bouncing my leg up and down and tapping my fingers on my knee. My hands itched to touch you, to run over your unconscious body, but I resisted the urge. For now, anyway.

The first sign you were coming to was the slow stirring of your body. You twitched and tried to stretch against your restraints. Your eyes fluttered open, clouded and hazy from being out for so long. You blinked rapidly against the light streaming in through the window in my bedroom. The look in your eyes sharpened as you put the pieces of your mind together. You started to writhe on the bed, any noises you made muffled by the ball gag strapped around your head.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” I purred.

You lifted your head just enough to see me sitting not more than a foot away from you. Your eyes became glossy with fear, and you tugged desperately against your restraints. You whined and cried against the ball gag, saliva leaking out of the sides of your mouth and dripping off your chin. You rocked yourself to sit up and scooted back away from me on the bed as far as possible until your back was pressed against the headboard.

“I’m sorry about the rope and the ball gag. I didn’t want you to freak and do something irrational when you woke up.” I crawled towards you, the bed squeaking under my weight. “However, I do think we need to get a couple of things straight, so I’ll take it out so you can talk, okay?”

You nodded too eagerly, as I had expected you would. I reached around the back of your head, and you leaned forward so I had easier access to the strap attaching the ball gag to you. I undid the strap and slowly took the ball gag out of your mouth. You didn't do anything for a second, merely just staring at me. I swiped the spit off of the corners of your mouth with my thumb and stuck the appendage in my mouth. Your saliva reminded me of the first time we had kissed in the bathroom at the Sirens Club and how addicting your taste was.

You grimaced, wrinkling your nose in disgust. Then, you wet your lips before eliciting an ear-splitting shriek. “Help me!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. “Please, somebody help me!”

I chuckled, the sound deafening over your pleading cries. “Scream all you want, gorgeous. There’s no one around for miles. It’s just you and me.”

You pulled your legs up to your chest. “Where did you take me? Some murder cabin in the middle of the woods?” you sneered.

“Try Wayne Manor.” I folded one leg under the other. “We have the place all to ourselves, and there’s acres in between this estate and the next one.”

You didn’t take your eyes off of me for a second, like you were afraid of what I might do if you did. “Why?”

“I already told you why, gorgeous.” I gave you a teasing smile. “You belong to me, but no matter how hard I tried to prove it to you, you just didn’t seem to get the message. So, I thought the only way to get it through that stubborn skull of yours was to isolate you for a little while.”

“People will come looking for me.” You narrowed your eyes at me. “They’ll know I’ve gone missing and catch you redhanded, you sicko!”

“Oh, I know they’ll be looking for you. That’s why I’ve been very busy in the twelve hours you were unconscious, gorgeous.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I walked over to the corner of my bedroom. “After, I tidied up your penthouse, I packed you a few things.” I held up a Louis Vuitton suitcase I had found in your closet filled with some random stuff I had thrown in. “Then, I bought you a plane ticket and sent Mom a text saying you were taking an impromptu trip to Paris to relax and take your mind off of Brant.”

I took your phone out of my pocket and held it up for you to see. Then, I dropped it to the ground with an earth-shattering crack. I lifted my foot and crushed it under the thick sole of my shoe, smashing it to a thousand glass pieces. I didn’t need anyone tracking your phone back here in the case someone did get suspicious and decide to snoop around.

Your whole body was vibrating with rage at this point. You clenched your jaw so hard, the veins in your neck protruded from your skin. “You bastard!” you screeched so loud, your voice shook the walls. “You fucking psychopath!”

All I could do was smile and laugh at your reaction. Seeing you so passionate and so vehement made my heart burst inside my chest with warmth. Indifference wasn’t something to be trifled with, but anger? Anger was just on the tipping point of unadulterated affection. There was a fine line between love and hate, and I intended on making you cross it.

“Psychopath? That’s a big word.” I gazed at you, lovesick and adoring. “But I have to admit, I am crazy in love with you.”

Your nostrils flared as you tried to contain your fury. “You stalked me, broke into my home, killed my brother, violated me, raped me, and then kidnapped me against my will. That’s not love, you piece of shit!”

“I know it’ll take a while for you to understand, but now we have all the time in the world.” I pressed my hands to my heart and locked eyes with you, my expression turning serious. “And I want you to know that when you come to your senses, I forgive you for all the cruel things you’re saying to me right now.”

You stared at me like a second head had sprouted out from my neck. You eventually tore your gaze away from me, and instead the mirror above my dresser caught your attention. Your breath hitched in your throat when you took in your reflection. Your chest racked with sobs as your eyes flitted over the blue and purple bruise forming on your neck in the shape of a handprint. Tears pricked your eyes when you noticed the bite mark on your neck. It was healed now, but the skin where each of my teeth had punctured your flesh was tender and raw. It would mostly likely scar. Those were the only injuries you had sustained. The rest of you was untouched and unmarred, like a sheet of paper or a blank canvas. And it was mine to do whatever I pleased with.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of dressing you. As you might remember, your other dress wasn’t exactly wearable anymore.” I clasped my hands behind my back and stalked closer to you.

You looked down, and only then did you realize you weren’t wearing anything of your own. I had put you in a white babydoll dress of chiffon and lace. The thin straps clung to your shoulders, and the low neckline accentuated your prominent cleavage. The hem of the full skirt just barely reached your mid thigh, and the sheer fabric exposed everything you had to offer underneath. I didn’t put any undergarments on you. There was no need to when I was around.

I reached over and picked up a glass of water off of the nightstand next to my bed. “Are you thirsty?” I asked softly. I sank into the mattress next to you and held the water up to your lips. “Here, have a sip.”

You didn’t open your mouth. You stayed completely still, your eyes trained on me.

“C’mon, gorgeous. I know you must be thirsty. Please drink, for me?” I pleaded, batting my lashes at you. When you still didn’t respond, my smile faltered, and I grabbed your chin roughly with my hand. I squeezed until your lips were forcefully parted. “Drink,” I hissed and poured the water into your mouth.

Your eyes bulged, and you gurgled defiantly. When you had had enough, water spilled out of your mouth and dribbled your chin. Drops ran down your neck and wet the bedsheets. I set the half empty glass down and used the corner of the sheets to wipe away the excess water.

“There, isn’t that better?” I used my sugarcoated tone again. “Now, it’s time to take your pill.” I picked up a tiny, white, circular pill off of the nightstand.

You leaned as far away from me as you could. “What is it?” you asked fearfully.

I inspected the little pill in between my pointer finger and my thumb. “It’s just birth control.” The expression on your face was a mix of confusion and terror and awareness. It amused me. “What? You didn’t think I wanted to get you pregnant, did you?” I laughed. “I don’t like using condoms, and I love you, gorgeous, but we’re a little too young. We’re not ready to raise a child. Well, not yet anyway. That day will come eventually.”

A shiver ran through you at my statement. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” You turned your head away from me.

“Would I lie to you, gorgeous?” Though, the way you suspiciously eyed me said I would. I hovered my hand over your face. “Now, open up.”

With a defiant glint in your eye, you parted your lips for me. I placed the pill on your tongue, and you swallowed roughly. You were more willing to chase it with water this time. I guessed you weren’t so fond of the idea of getting pregnant by me either.

“Good girl.” I smoothed your hair down lovingly with my hand, and you flinched under my touch. I retracted my hand and stood up. We’ll work on that. “Now, one more thing before I untie you.”

You perked up at the prospect of being untied. I walked over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. I took something out and closed the drawer. I turned around to face you, hiding it behind my back, and I noticed your forehead crease with worry.

“Do you know what this is?” I revealed the object to you. It was a thick, black leather collar with metal letters spelling out ‘Mr. Wayne’s’ on it in all caps. You shook your head. “This is a shock collar.” I walked closer to you, dangling it from my fingers. “It will ensure that you don’t try to escape. Come within even five feet of the brick wall surrounding this estate, and it will deliver a bolt of electricity stronger than a taser that will impair your motor cortex for up to three hours.”

“Like... like a dog and one of those invisible fence things?” Your voice wavered.

“Yes, exactly like that, but much worse.” I smirked before reaching for you.

You shied away from me. “Please, please don’t make me put it on,” you begged.

I frowned. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, but I have to. I want you to be able to roam around the manor freely, but I don’t want you getting any ideas about leaving me. But I promise I’ll untie you once I get it on.” I placed my hand on my chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You remained silent, but when I reached for you this time, you didn’t stop me. You let me spin you around, and I kneeled on the mattress behind you. I pushed your hair out of the way and put the collar around your neck. I clicked it into place and leaned back on my heels, admiring my work. You rolled your neck, awkwardly adjusting to the way the collar hugged your throat just a little too tightly. I smiled.

“And don’t bother trying to take it off. The only way you can take it off is with this.” I yanked on the ends of your hair to make you look at me. You let out a yelp and spun around. I raised the small magnet hanging off of a chain around my neck. “Now, I promised to untie you, and you’ll find that I always keep my promises.”

I kneeled down in front of you and tugged at the ropes around your ankles. You lifted your feet to assist me, and I loosened the knots. The rope fell slack around your ankles, and you slid your feet out of the constraints. I stood up and leaned over you, grabbing onto the rope on your wrists. I gritted my teeth as I fiddled with the knots.

“Damn, these knots are strong,” I muttered as I pulled on the rope. “I did a good job tying them.”

I managed to untie them and threw them over my shoulder. I stood up, wiping my hands on my slacks. You rubbed at your sore wrists and rolled out your ankles, the skin where the rope had dug into them red and irritated. You looked up at me, and in a flash, you threw all your body weight at me with a piercing scream.

I fell to the wooden floor with a hard thud, knocking the air in my lungs out of me. You pounced on top of me, aiming at my eyes with your sharp nails. I wheezed before gathering my strength and grabbed your wrists. I rolled onto my side and took you with me, flipping us over so I was the one crushing you instead. Your eyes went wide with shock as I easily pinned your hands above your head, a sly smirk spreading across my face.

“Good to know you’ve still got some fight left in you. I’d hate to see it leave so soon.” I bucked my hips against yours, rubbing my hardening cock over the skirt covering your core. “Keep resisting me, gorgeous. It turns me on.”

Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. “No, please.”

I stared at you for a moment longer. The pitiful expression on your face only filled me with want that much more. I snarled before pushing myself off of you. I held out a hand to you, and you hesitated before taking it. I pulled you up to your feet, and you pulled on the hem of your skirt, willing it down.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t have time while you were out to wash you, so you’ll have to do that on your own.” I pointed to a door leading to a room attached to my bedroom. “The bathroom’s just right through there.”

You lowered your head and started in the direction I had gestured to. You just barely passed me when I clamped a hand down on your shoulder. You stopped in your tracks and looked up at me expectantly.

“Give me the dress.” I let go of your shoulder and held my hand out to you. Your eyes grew to the size of saucers, and you glued your arms to your sides. “C’mon, gorgeous. I need something to think about while you’re in the shower.” I winked one dark eye at you.

You lowered your gaze to the wooden floorboards as you gripped the hem of the dress, your knuckles turning white. You slowly pulled it over your head, exposing your bare body to me, and put the discarded dress in my hand. My intense gaze raked over you, from the perfect swell of your breasts to the region between your legs. Your eyes didn’t leave the grain of the wood. I wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel if you were wet for me, but I held back.

“I might need a shower later myself. A cold one, at that.” I leered at you a second longer before shoving your shoulder, taking you by surprise. You stumbled back and finally lifted your head to look at me. “Go, get washed up.”

You scrambled over to the door and pulled it open. You stepped inside and closed it behind you with a resounding bang. I’d have to teach you not to slam doors later. I sat back on the edge of the bed with a huff. It felt like all of the warmth had been drained from the room as soon as you had left. I stared down at the dress in my hands. I didn’t know how I liked you better: with it on or off.

My ears pricked up when I heard the water start in the bathroom. I could just imagine you standing under the stream of water, your hands moving all over your body. I wondered if you would touch yourself while thinking of me, if having me on top of you for a brief moment was enough to get you going to. I cursed under my breath as I felt my erect cock straining against the confines of my pants. I didn’t think my hand was going to be enough to satisfy me anymore.

I pushed myself off of the bed and pulled my sweatshirt off by the back of my collar. I reached for the buckle on my belt and undid it as I kicked off my shoes. I toed my socks off as I pushed my boxers and slacks down, the fabric pooling around my ankles. I stepped out of it and walked towards the door to the bathroom. I gripped the doorknob and slowly twisted it, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. I creeped inside, trying not to make any noise that could alert you to my presence.

The mirror was all fogged up from the hot shower you were taking. Water ran down the glass of the walk-in shower, obscuring your form until it was just a mess of blurry color. I licked my lips before inching closer to you on my tiptoes. I reached out and slid the door to the shower open, a puddle of water forming at my feet as some from the shower head hit the floor.

Your head snapped to look at me, and your eyes widened. “No.” You pressed yourself up against the tiled wall opposite me. “D-don’t come near me.”

I stuck a hand into the shower, and you turned your head away from me, squeezing your eyes shut. But instead of touching you, I grabbed the handle controlling the water temperature. I spun it all the way right, and you yelped as the jet of water turned freezing cold. You made to move out of the way, but I latched a hand onto your shoulder and held you still.

“Do you want me to turn it back to hot?” I asked you. You stood there, your muscles seizing up as you tried to conserve what little warmth you could. You squeezed your eyes shut as water ran down your face and nodded. “Then be a good girl for me.”

Part of me wanted to leave the water on cold just to watch you suffer, but a promise was a promise. I twisted the handle back to its original position and stepped into the shower. I slid the door closed behind me, trapping us inside the shower together. The stream of warm water hit me, wetting my dark curls and cascading down my body. My gaze was hard and dark as I looked at you, and my lips were pressed into a straight line.

“I just want to make sure you’re clean.” My voice was low and dark. I pushed you flat against the tile and pressed my chest flush against yours. “What about down here?” I moved my hand between your legs and ran my fingers through your folds. “Are you clean, or are you a filthy girl for me?”

You tensed against me as I swirled the tips of my fingers over your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath, your face inches from mine. Your damp hair stuck to your forehead, and drops of water ran down your breasts. You bit your bottom lip as I continued to stroke your folds. I moved my fingers down to your entrance and traced little circles there.

“You didn’t answer me.” I leaned down so my lips grazed the shell of your ear as I spoke, “Are you my dirty girl or not?” You leaned your head back against the wall, your lips parted in a silent moan. “Tell me, and I’ll be gracious enough to stretch you out before I shove my cock in you again.” You squeaked at my words, and my hand hovered over the handle. “Don’t think I won’t use this again.”

You blinked rapidly. “Yes, I am!”

I let go of the handle and pushed one finger into you. You fell forward and gripped my arms, your fingers digging into my skin. I liked it. “You’re what?” I seethed, pumping my finger in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“I’m your...” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “I’m your filthy girl.” Your voice wobbled as you said the words, and you didn’t meet my gaze.

I nodded approvingly. “Good. Not convincing, but good. We’ll work on your delivery.” I added another finger inside of you, and you clung onto me like your life depended on it. “Are you still sore from last time?” I curled my fingers inside of you. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. You’ll get used to taking me. We have a lot of time to practice.”

Water streaked down your cheeks, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the shower or your eyes. I hoped it was the latter. I took my fingers out of you and gripped your thigh. I lifted your leg over my hip and positioned myself at your entrance. I leaned forward and crashed my lips against yours at the same time I pushed into you.

You whimpered, but the sound was swallowed by my lips on yours. I slowly slid into you to the hilt as I moved my lips against yours. I pulled out of you only to push back in, groaning into your mouth as your walls contracted around me. I grabbed your thighs and lifted you off of the ground. You folded your legs around my waist and gripped onto my shoulders to balance yourself. I sped up, your tits bouncing in time to my thrusts. You went weak in my arms as the new angle I was ramming into you at allowed the head of my cock to hit that spot deep inside of you with each thrust.

I took your bottom lip between my teeth and bit down. You cried out as your lip split open, ruby red blood spilling out and into my awaiting mouth. I ran my tongue over the fresh cut, partly to soothe it and partly to taste your blood. It was warm and tangy and metallic and sweet. The taste increased my impending orgasm, and the hot water flowing down my back only added to the sensation.

I reached in between our bodies to rub circles over your clit. The action sent you over the edge, and your pussy squeezed down on my cock. I groaned as your climax triggered mine, and I spilled my seed into you. Your thighs twitched around me, and I snapped my hips against yours a few more times to get all of my cum out. I pulled out and set you back down on shaky legs. I watched my cum trickle out of your pussy, the rush of water flushing it down the drain.

“I’ll let you finish up. Make sure to clean this good, yeah?” I gave your sensitive pussy a smack of my hand, and you jolted with a squeal.

I laughed at your reaction and opened the door of the shower. I got out and closed it behind me. I grabbed a towel off of the towel rack and wrapped the soft, white cotton around my waist. I retreated from the room, the gentle whimpers coming from the shower causing the corners of my lips to curl into a devious smirk.

CHAPTER TWELVE

[jj-lynn21]

The Charity- various fandoms & x-reader ch 8

Warnings: mystery, angst, dash of smut, The end

ch 1

ch 2

ch 3

ch 4

ch 5

ch 6

ch 7

 kit-ala-kat  super-pink-a-palouza 

Catching your breath, you look to Scarlett. She looks to you and smiles. You point to the watchers at the door.

Scarlett say, “I know baby girl. Your man looks like he is upset. We should get them over here to comfort them”

You both sit up sheet snug around your breasts under you arms. As you extend your hand you do notice Bills eyes are red like he has been crying.

You say, “Come here baby boy. Join me for some comfort and tell me why those beautiful green eyes look so sad.”

All Scarlett needs do is extend a hand and Colin is stripping off his cloths to join her. Its pretty funny how quickly he is trying to get things off to go to her tripping over his own shoe he threw in front of him and lands on his knees practically crawling to her on his hand and knees.

Bill is slower as he places his shoes by the wall and tosses his cloths on a near by chair. He goes to you taking your hand as he slides between the sheets. His eyes are watery with tears as he looks at you.

You say, “What’s wrong sweet boy? You still couldn’t find the others?”

Bill says, “More than that Princess. Gustaf and I only found Colin, my Dad and Valter. They are sticking together downstairs. I, we were coming to get the two of you to join who is left of our friends and family. Princess, Alex is gone. My Dad is drinking himself into oblivion over it. My brothers are practically in mourning. You don’t think, I mean we will find them, won’t we?”

Running your hand over his cheek through his hair you say, “Sure let’s go find them all right now.”

You and Bill get up. Seeing as Scarlett and Collin seem to be starting something you don’t want to stop you say nothing as you go see if your dress is wearable. Bill grabs his cloths following you into the bathroom like a puppy. You get your bra and panties on. Then you hold up your dress crinkling your face in disgust.

Handing you the t-shirt he had on under his dress shirt he says, “It got a little sweaty but its cleaner than your dress. Plus, I think it will be long enough on you to be a short dress.”

When you put it on it comes right below your ass cheeks. A bit shorter than most dresses you have worn, but it will do even though your panties and matching bra show under the white material.

Bill says, “Yeah, that looks perfect on you.”

Trying to pull it down a little more you say, “It’s a little short. But I guess it will do.”

He gets dressed and you both head out. You plan on saying something to Scarlett and Collin before leave to go downstairs, but the room is empty. The sheet is gone off the bed, so you and Bill walk out to the balcony to see if they went out there for some air. There is no sign of them. You and Bill look at each other freaked out.

Together you say, “What the fuck?”

Panicky Bill says, “Fuck, the rest of my family.”

He starts to run downstairs. You run after him barely keeping up. As you get to the bar Bill stands there devastated not to see Stellan, Gustaf or Valter.

Screaming Bill says, “This is fucking ridiculous. What the fuck is this place? I’m going to kill the fucker that took my family. You know I’m going to fucking kill them when I find them.”

He starts tearing through the house overturning furniture and turning over tables as he searches. A door opens when he tries to pull all the books off a shelf. You are in shock as you try to follow him on his rampage. You see him go through the door, but it shuts right behind him. You franticly search for a way to open it again.

You pound on the wall screaming for everyone, “BILL, TOM, SCARLETT, ALEX, TOM, ELLEN, CODY, STELLAN, GUSTAF, VALTER, CHRIS, CHRIS, COLIN, ROBERT WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU! THIS ISN’T FUNNY! THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING HOLLYWOOD PARTY I HAVE EVER BEEN TO!”

You grab the few books left on the shelve Bill had just tried to empty and you pull. They move forward but not off the shelf as the door you saw Bill go through opens. Crying, make up smeared you venture into the opening hoping to find everyone there. You think its unlikely you do since it seems this place is full of hidden passages. You wipe the tears from your eyes as you walk through the dimly lit hall.

You scream out for everyone again hoping at least one of them will appear, “BILL, TOM, SCARLETT, ALEX, TOM, ELLEN, CODY, STELLAN, GUSTAF, VALTER, CHRIS, CHRIS, COLIN, ROBERT!”

The hallway ends at another door. It opens when you push on it with all your weight. It leads outside. You walk out taking a breath of fresh air as the sun rises. You feel broken down, exhausted as you hear an alarm go off in the house. You see all the lights turn on, so you run toward the front door to go back inside. As you get to the center of the room balloons fall from the ceiling.

Stepping into the balloon filled room Vernon says, “You made it darling. You were the last one here at dawn.” He hugs you as through he has none you forever. You push him away.”

You say, “What the fuck. Who are you Vernon?”

Vernon smiles, “I’m just a small part of this game. You and all the others that were here with you are the real stars.”

You say, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Laughing he says, “That language and everything everyone did here tonight will entertain thousands or maybe even millions if we get the numbers to watch my boss thinks we will. People will pay for this kind of entertainment.”

Screaming you say, “This isn’t entertainment. We are all people here. Where are my friends?”

Vernon says, “Everyone can come in here now.”

Bill comes out first run over to throw his arms around you to try to comfort you. Tom comes out next and hugs you from the other side. Then everyone else joins in the love fest.”

Vernon says, “What a precious moment. Everyone’s charity will be getting the money promised if you all keep quiet about this night until after the show airs in a month. In that time, we will be secluding you from the public eye on a tropical island with everything you could ever need. No one can be seen in public until it is revealed you are all alright. Your extended families will be told you are working on a secret project. We want the audience to think this was real like all of you did. Your reactions were perfect. We didn’t expect all the hook ups, but that was a great bonus fans will love.”

Stellan says, “Our lives are not some reality show. I don’t tolerate people upsetting my family. You will have a huge lawsuit on your hands.”

Vernon says, “I don’t think so Stellan. When you all agreed to come here you were under contract. Its all legal. Now if you choose to leave you can and we can work around you somehow with some editing magic, but your charity gets nothing so all this emotion and maybe fear for some of you will be because of nothing. Do you really want this experience to be about nothing?”

Bill says, “Who ever came up with this is a sick fuck. But I don’t want to have wasted my time. I’m in.”

The rest of the Skarsgard’s agree wasting time is the worst thing in the world with this night being a close second.

Robert says, “I didn’t do anything embarrassing so I’m in. How about the rest of you?”

Everyone grumbles but, in the end, decide their charity is more important than a little embarrassment. Besides, how much of this could they really show. Everyone looks to you to see what you will decide.

Veron says, “What about you Princess. This could be really good for your acting career if you choose to pursue it more seriously after this. I bet your charity could really use the money.”

Do you decide your charity needs money and go stay with these people on an Island for a month to try to forget about the trauma or do you walk away from everything and possible everyone here? 

If you want to go to THE ISLAND CLICK

[you-never-liked-this-sweater]

Connor Murphy X Reader: Prep (Part 2)

Words: 4140

Warning: Sexual innuendo

Reader Pronouns: she/her

Author’s Note: So many of you have been requesting a second part of the prep story so I decided to combine a few requests into additions to this story. This will become a multi-part story so expect to see some more chapters after this one. I really hope all of you enjoy~

Requested by:

Anon: If u can, do you think you can write a part 2 to Prep??? I love your writing, and relate to reader so much in that imagine! Maybe a confession or date or anything u want?? Thank you so much for writing! You're so talented!!!! Anon: I legit forgot how amazing your writing was and I read your most recent fic and I fell in love with my boy Connor again. Can I request something where maybe someone in the reader's fam is getting married and shes complaining about not having a date and how everyones gonna interrogate her about a boyfriend. And connor's kinda like uhh I can go with you? That would be amazing, if not its cool too. Love you!

Part 1: Here Part 2: ((You are here))

---

You ran your fingers over the silky material and your nose scrunched up. It was too smooth for your tastes and it reminded you of those then silk nightgowns that you would see rich women wear in old movies. Your hand retracted from the dress and you looked to your mother who was looking at dresses on the other side of the store. She had an armful of brightly coloured clothing already tucked over her arm and continued to pick up one dress after another, only adding to her large collection of options. She currently seemed to be bantering with a store employee, her attention drawn away from shopping for the moment.

You took this time to take out your phone and finally respond to the message Connor had sent you a while ago. Your eyes scanned the message, reading it quickly in case you mother noticed.

Connor Murphy: Are you still coming over for movie night tonight? My family is gone so you don’t have to worry about trying to make uncomfortable small talk with my mom like last time.  

You smiled slightly and sighed before typing out a response.

You: I’ll try to be over as soon as I can, but I’m currently shopping with my mom at the mall. And knowing her, she’ll be looking for the best dress for the lowest price no matter how long it takes. So, I don’t know how long we’ll be here.

“Y/N, I found the perfect dresses for you to try on!” You jumped and quickly stuffed your phone into your back pocket, looking up at your mother as she came over with her armful of dresses, “Go into the changing room and try these on. Let me know if there are any that you like.”

“Okay,” You said, taking them from her and walking towards the changing area of the store. Challenging your mother about the amount of dresses she was giving you wasn’t going to do anything to change the situation, so you decided to just do what you were told like usual.

The store employee that had been talking to your mother earlier, greeted you as you approached the changing rooms. An empathetic smile pulled onto her face as you approached her, “Trying on some dresses?” You nodded and she gestured at a door, “Room 6. Head on in.”

“Thank you,” You smiled weakly at her and entered the rather small changing room, dumping your armful of dresses onto the bench inside. You closed and locked the door behind you before you took out your phone to see if Connor had responded to you. A message icon told you that he had responded and you opened up your chat with him.

Connor Murphy: Gross. Why the hell are you shopping for dresses?

Your fingers hesitated over the keys. You never did like complaining to Connor about your life, but he had told you on multiple occasions that if you ever wanted to rant about something, he would always try to listen and understand. However, even knowing that he was okay with it, never made you feel any less uncomfortable when you were doing it.

You: My cousin is getting married tomorrow and my parents are making me go. My mother doesn’t think any of the dresses that I have are suitable, so she’s making me get a new one. She’s been pestering me about finding one that’ll match my date’s suit. So, she’s just been handing me armfuls of dresses in every colour imaginable.

You set down your phone on the bench and began sifting through the pile of dresses, looking for something that was actually your style. Making two piles for now seemed like a better option, so you began separating the dresses by deciding if they were even wearable. Some hideous coloured dresses went into the ‘no’ pile, along with dresses that had a plunging neckline, or a slit up the side. Essentially, anything too revealing was discarded and you hung the discarded dresses up on the back of the door. After tossing any unwanted dresses, you were left with only five dresses to look though, which made your task seem a little less daunting.

Another buzz grabbed your attention and you picked up your phone from the bench, eyes scanning your new message from Connor.

Connor Murphy: You have a date?

You weren’t sure why your face flushed pink in that moment, but you quickly recomposed yourself and responded.

You: No, I don’t have a date, and that’s the problem. I just haven’t been able to find the words to tell her that I don’t have one. She just kind of assumes I’m popular and that guys are all over me like she was in high school so I didn’t exactly get the chance to say I’m not going with anyone before she just started assuming.

Before you had a chance to set your phone down, it buzzed in your hand. You clicked the screen back on and reopened your chat window with Connor.

Connor Murphy: I mean uhh… I can go with you if you want?

You felt your heart leap up into your throat and your face burned red. You quickly looked away from the phone as if he could see you through the screen somehow. He’d been getting these sorts of reactions out of you for weeks. The blushing. The panicking. He was your best friend and sometimes you couldn’t even look at him. If he didn’t already realise that you had feelings for him, going to the wedding together might just help him figure it out. And honestly, you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship that you had taken so much care to build with him. But-

Your phone buzzed again.

Connor Murphy: Or not?

You panicked, realizing that you had left him on read for almost five minutes while you were freaking out like a flustered school girl.

You: Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I got distracted.

You: I would love to go on a date with you.

You: AS*****

You: I meant as!

You: Go as a date with you

You: to the wedding

Connor Murphy: Jesus, calm down. I know what you meant.

You buried your face in your hands, reeling at how stupid and weird you were being. You took a few steadying breaths and looked down at your phone, knowing Connor was used to this kind of behavior from you by now.

Connor Murphy: Just tell me what I need to wear. I’m assuming a suit or something, but I mean what colours. You said you needed it to match your dress.

You: Yeah. Black suit. White shirt. And a tie or something that matches my dress.

Connor Murphy: K. I’ve got a suit. Send me a picture of the dress you end up getting and I’ll see if I have a tie that’ll match it.

You returned your attention back to the remaining dresses that you picked out. You weren’t sure if the idea of Connor going to the wedding with you made you more or less anxious. The idea of going alone was stressful because it meant all of your relatives talking to you and asking you where your boyfriend was, but going with Connor meant that everyone would assume that he was your boyfriend. At least if he was going with you, it gave you someone to talk to instead of just sitting in the corner of the room on your phone the entire evening like you were planning on doing.

You picked up a simple pastel f/c dress. It was modest and covered your chest, but showed a little skin at the top where the strap area was made of a fine lace. It flared out slightly at the waist below a small darker f/c belt, and went down to just slightly above your knees. You decided to try it on, and it seemed to fit you perfectly, showing off your curves but not enough that it made you uncomfortable. You nodded to yourself, deciding that this would be the prefect dress to wear for the wedding.

Now you just needed to get Connor’s input. You took out your phone and stood back from the mirror, holding up your phone in a way that you got the whole dress in the photo and slightly covered your face. When you were satisfied with the photo, you sent it to Connor.

You: [sent photo attachment] I like this one, what do you think?

The little check beside your message indicated that he had opened it and you awaited his response. You stood with your phone in your hand for a few minutes but didn’t get a response, causing your brow to furrow in confusion.

You: Should I pick a different dress?

His response was almost immediate.

Connor Murphy: No. Sorry. Dress looks good. Get that one.

You: Do you have a tie that matches it?

Connor: I can borrow one from my dad. He has a huge tie collection. Won’t even notice one is missing.

You: Alright, as long as Larry won’t mind. I should be finished up here shortly and then I’ll start heading over to your house. Is that okay?

Connor: Yep. See you soon.

You let out a breath and your eyes scanned over the messages one last time before you put your phone back down and changed out of the dress, putting it back on the hanger. You placed that dress over one arm and gathered the reject pile onto your other arm before exiting the changing room.

Your mother waited patiently outside the door and smiled upon seeing you, “Did you find something that you liked, honey?”

“Yeah, I liked this one,” You said, holding out the pastel dress you decided on.

She clapped her hands together enthusiastically, “Oh, I really liked that one too. You give me that dress and I’ll go pay for it while you give those dresses to an employee to put back.” She plucked the dress from your hand and headed towards the front of the store while you stood there with an armful of dresses.

You looked down at the clothing and then back up at your mother. You really didn’t want to give all of these dresses to someone and make them put them all back even if it was their job. It just seemed rude. Making your way around the store, you began putting back the dresses onto their respective racks as best you could.

“Excuse me,” A voice to your left grabbed your attention and you saw the store employee from earlier that your mother was talking to. She was smiling at you with her arms outstretched, “If you’re not going to buy those, I can take them for you if you like.”

You handed them over to her sheepishly, “Sorry, my mother-”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my job,” She says and takes the dresses from your arms.

“Thanks,” With a nod you began making your way to the front of the store to find your mother finishing up her payment for the dress.

She looks to you as you approach and seems confused, “What took you so long?”

“Just talking to someone,” You say, rubbing your arm as you both make your way out of the store and into the main area of the mall. As you both began heading towards the front of the large building, your mother turned to you, “So have you figured out what the plan will be for tomorrow? Will your date be coming over to our house to get ready, will you be going over to his house, or will he just be meeting you at the wedding?”

You let out a breath, happy that you now actually had a date, though the details were a bit fuzzy as things currently were. You shrugged and looked over at her, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt, “I’m not sure, we haven’t really talked about that yet. I’m heading over to Connor’s house after we’re done shopping, so I’ll find out what he thinks sometime tonight. I’ll let you know.”

There was a beat of silence before your mother nudged your arm, grabbing your attention so you saw the cheeky smile on her face, “So his name is Connor.”

Your face turned red and you huffed, looking away from your mother, “Yeah, his name is Connor.”

“How long have you known him?” She started prying almost instantly now that you had finally divulged some information about your ‘mystery date’.

“I met him my first day at Westside High back in November. So…close to six months now, almost,” You respond, trying to avoid that excited expression on your mother’s face.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Your mother gushed, looking back to you as she walked through the automatic doors to the mall, warm spring air rushing past you as you both walked outside, “So tell me about him, what’s he like? I bet he’s handsome.”

You cleared your throat and nodded, fighting off the blush, “Yeah he’s really…um…He’s attractive. He-”

A loud ringing made you jump and your mother pulled her phone out of her bag, “Hold that thought, honey.” She raises the phone to her ear, “Hello?”

You let out a breath of relief and look away from her, glad you wouldn’t have to gush about Connor quite yet to your family. Hopefully your mother would forget about what you had been talking about by the time she finishes her phone call and then you can just go to Connor’s without another awkward encounter.

The two of you walked towards your car with your mother talking on the phone and you tuning her out for the most part. You climbed in silently and waited for your mother to get in as well. After a few moments your mother climbed in and placed her phone in her bag before tossing both into the back seat. She started up the car and began backing out of the parking lot, “So where am I dropping you off, then?”

You told her Connor’s address and she nodded to herself, exiting the parking lot. The drive there was relatively silent besides the quiet hum of the radio. Your mother had a habit of leaving the radio on low enough that you could tell that something was playing but you couldn’t actually understand what it was. Eventually you pulled up in front of a familiar light-yellow house, modern in appearance and eye catching in contrast to the white and tan houses that surrounded it.

Your mother seemed happy with this development and looked to you when she parked the car in their driveway, “What did you say his last name was?”

“Uh, I didn’t. It’s Murphy. His parents are Cynthia and Larry. I’m not sure if you know them or not,” You say, unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your schoolbag from the backseat.

“I know Cynthia,” Your mother beamed, “She was in my Pilates class before she stopped taking them. They just weren’t her cup of tea I suppose.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to build off of this conversation so you just nodded and started opening the passenger door, “That’s cool. Anyway, I’ll text you when I need to be picked up. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Bye honey, have fun,” Your mother said as you closed the car door and began walking up to the front door of the Murphy residence. The sound of the window rolling down grabbed your attention and you looked back to see your mother leaning her head out the car window, “-but not too much fun.”

“We’re just watching some movies, mom,” You say quickly, turning back to the door, knocking quickly as your face burned.

Connor opened the door and smiled, going to say something when your mother cut in again.

“Be safe!” She said quickly, before adding, “-with your movies.”

“Mom!” You said, embarrassment bubbling over as you looked back at her in shock.

“Text me later,” She waved and pulled out of the driveway, leaving swiftly, her car disappearing around the corner.

You turned back to Connor, your face flushed a bright red, “I’m sorry about her. She just sort of assumes things are happening between us.”

“What have you been telling her?” Connor says, quirking an eyebrow as he walks inside of his house.

“Nothing, I swear,” You say quickly, cheeks burning as you hurried inside, closing the door behind you, “I would never-”

“Jesus, calm down, I was joking,” Connor chuckled, walking into the living room and taking a seat on the black leather sofa, stretching out and getting comfortable.

You twisted your fingers together and chuckled nervously, “Right. Sorry.”

There was a small pause as you slipped your bag off your shoulder and set it by the door. You glanced up at Connor as you took off your shoes, “So anyway, what did you want to watch?”

“I’ve got a few movies picked out,” He says, using the remote to go through a few options. By the time you managed to get your shoes off and walk over to the couch, he had already clicked into a movie and was getting comfortable. He glanced up at you as you sat down on the couch beside him, a familiar spot that made you feel at ease, “So what’s going on with the whole wedding thing?”

Your entire body tensed up instantly, not expecting him to jump right into the topic you had been hoping to put aside for at least a few hours. You coughed into your hand and laughed nervously, “Uh…well did you want to get ready at my house, or here, or would you prefer to just meet us there? It’s up to you, I don’t want to pressure you into anything. You can even back out now if you want-”

“I said I would go,” Connor cuts in, seemingly confused and offended as his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, “Do you not want me to?”

“No, that’s not it. I just,” You struggled to find the words you wanted to use, gesturing with your hands as if literally trying to grasp onto an actual sentence, “I…I don’t want you to go and have a horrible time. If you think you’ll have a bad time there, then I don’t want you to go because you’re just going to be upset the whole time. I don’t want you to be stuck at a wedding for a few hours being miserable if you would prefer to be literally anywhere else.”

Connor was picking at his nail polish, eyes downcast, “I never have a horrible time when you’re around. You make me feel calm and happy and I-” He looked up at you and instantly cleared his throat, cutting himself off and avoiding your gaze as his face turned pink, “-Anyway, what I’m saying is, I’ll come over to your place tomorrow to get ready.”

You couldn’t stop smiling, a pink blush dusting your cheeks as well as you looked back towards the television, “Okay, we’re heading out at two, so you can either come over a little before then or you can come over a little earlier and we can hang out first.”

Connor nods and shifts in his seat, “I’ll be there around one. I’ve got some stuff to do tomorrow morning first.”

After getting into a more comfortable position and turning your attention to the movie, you sunk into the familiar feeling of being close to Connor. Over the past few months you had spent with Connor, you had gotten closer and he started to confide in you in ways that he hadn’t with anyone else. It made you feel special and wanted knowing that someone put that much faith in you. But it was also terrifying, knowing that you were one of the only lifelines that Connor had, and if you slipped up and weren’t there for him when he needed you.

…..

It wasn’t until you opened your eyes that you realized you’d fallen asleep. You sometimes had a habit of passing out whenever you watched movies with Connor, but he didn’t seem to mind. He glanced at you when he felt you stir on the couch and he smirked, “Good morning sleepyhead.”

“Good morning? What time is it?” You asked, stretching and rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand in an attempt to bring yourself back to reality.

“I’m kidding. It’s still nighttime, you dork. It’s almost ten. You slept through two of my wonderful movie options I had picked out. And you missed all of my hilarious commentary,” He said in mock offense, gesturing at the television as lines of credits rolled up the screen.

You rolled your eyes and smiled at him, “I’m sorry. I was tired.”

There was a beat of silence that passed between the two of you. You caught yourself staring at Connor, like you often found yourself doing. Your eyes moved across his cheekbones and his jawline, sharp and angled, along the light freckles that dusted his cheeks and then finally his beautiful eyes. You could stare into those eyes forever, honestly. The colours were one thing, blues and browns mixing together in one eye while the other was a perfect blue, but what really drew you in was the emotion trapped behind them. He looked almost haunted most of the time, a sadness and anger burning behind those breathtaking eyes of his. You didn’t even notice that he was staring back at you, face laced with confusion, “Y/N?”

“Sorry, I zoned out for a minute there. Um… what?” You asked, shaking your head and looking away from him as your face went red.

“I asked if you wanted me to take you home. Your curfew is ten thirty, right?” Connor asked, quirking an eyebrow and watching you curiously.

“Yeah, yes, that would um…” You cleared your throat and stood up, “That’s probably a good plan. I don’t want to give mom the wrong idea.”

“And what would that idea be?” He asked as he rose to his feet as well, pulling his sweater on, which he must have taken off at some point.

“That we were doing…things.” You gestured haphazardly in a dismissive manor, hoping that he would just drop the topic and save you from any more embarrassment. You made your way to the door quickly and pulled on your shoes, picking up your bag and standing back up straight, turning your attention towards Connor only to find him standing less than a foot away from you. You jumped in surprise, face going red as you squeaked.

Connor smirked, quirking an eyebrow at your flustered demeanor, “What is up with you today, Y/N? You’re gonna break a blood vessel if you blush any harder.”

As if on cue, your blush darkened and you looked away from him to try and maintain some of your dignity. You put your hand on his chest and pushed him back gently, leaving him at arms length from you as you took a deep breath and tried to recompose yourself. After a few moments you looked up at him, “I’m just a little nervous about the wedding tomorrow. It’ll be the first time in a long time that I’ll see a lot of my family. I’m just nervous about seeing them all again.”

Connor’s smirk wavered and he placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “They’ll love you. You don’t need to worry about anything. And I’ll be there with you the whole time so if you ever feel too uncomfortable, I’ll cut in and take the pressure off of you for a little while. Okay? Nothing to worry about.”

Your eyes flickered over his expression as you took in his words. Connor was usually so antisocial at parties, ignoring people and avoiding conversation, so this was a big step for him. You smile warmly at him, “Thank you, Connor. That means a lot coming from you.”

He quickly cleared his throat and looks away from you, but not before you caught sight of his cheeks flushing pink, “Anyway, we should get going.” He pushes open the door and hurries toward his car, running a hand back through his hair as he walked.

You let out a breath and followed him, closing the door behind you. Your mind spun, thinking of all of the possibilities tomorrow could bring. You were going on a fake date with Connor Murphy surrounded by all of your family members while keeping your feelings for him a secret. All you had to do was keep yourself together for one afternoon.

How hard could that be?

[wotsthisollabout]

ASMR?

My daughter and I were discussing ASMR videos the other day, and today one of my favorite webcomic authors put a whole dissertation on it up on his site.  (Links at bottom - go read his comic!!!)

ASMR IS SUCH A WEIRD PHENOMENON

For those who experience it, ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) is a euphoric sensation that at times is overwhelming. For those who don't, it's usually "that cringy, awkward, creepy stuff". Little research has been done on ASMR and the world still doesn't really know why it happens.

I'm not a neurologist or a scientist, but I've spent more than 40 years experiencing and contemplating ASMR and I have some theories that I think genuinely explain what ASMR really is and why it happens. I believe ASMR has a purpose and played an important role in our species' evolution and survival. And while I didn't name it ASMR, I'm partly responsible for why we call it that today. I'll explain that in a bit. WHAT DOES ASMR ACTUALLY FEEL LIKE? Once it's triggered, ASMR creates a very pleasurable, tingly feeling that glides across the scalp in friendly waves and can even seem as though it's being felt deep under the scalp. The feeling can sometimes travel down the neck, shoulders and back. This feeling varies in intensity and promotes a euphoric sense of calm, relaxation and well being. The person experiencing ASMR is usually filled with a strong desire to simply remain still and enjoy the sensation until it fades (usually in 2 to 10 minutes, given the circumstances and the person). As someone who has battled an opioid addiction, I can tell you that strength and intensity of ASMR is easily comparable to the strength of a drug like euphoria. The ASMR feeling does not hinder a person's judgement by making them feel high or drunk. The subject remains clear headed and aware (though usually very relaxed).

IS ASMR SEXUAL? COME ON, IS IT? BE REAL WITH ME.

No. Not in the least. ASMR is often mistaken by people without it, as a kink or fetish. This is in no way true. The pleasurable feelings ASMR brings do not induce sexual feelings or urges. "But Tarol," I hear you saying, "I know people online who say they DO find it sexual". Yes. And there are people with a kink for combining food with sexual arousal, but this does not mean that the pleasure we get from yummy foods is sexual in nature. Some people are turned on by bondage, yet this doesn't make ropes innately sexual. Lots of people enjoy incorporating otherwise nonsexual aspects of the world around them into an erotic experience. The pleasure experienced by ASMR is no more sexual that the pleasure experienced from eating our favourite foods.

AFTER HEARING ABOUT THIS ASMR THING, I THINK I MIGHT ALSO HAVE IT.

I hear this a lot. It's an understandable reaction to something that is often so poorly and vaguely explained. "Oh it's a good feeling? Hey, I've felt good feelings before! Maybe I have it too". Let me sum this up. If, after hearing/reading about ASMR, you're saying "I think I have that", then you don't. If you're not completely sure if you have ASMR, then you don't have it. The ASMR sensation is so hard to explain, because it's so different than almost any other feeling. We try to compare it to other sensations like "tingly goosebumps" etc, but this hardly covers the actual feeling. ASMR is unique and impossible to miss, when it happens. It's like if I told you that massive dinosaurs were stampeding through my living room every morning and your response is "Hmmmm. Now that you mention it, I think dinosaurs might be stampeding through my living room too". If you actually have dinosaurs charging through your living room, you absolutely know it. If you have to think about whether or not dinosaurs charge through your home, it's definitely not happening to you.

ASMR TRIGGERS

Triggers are the events or experiences that can create the ASMR sensation. These triggers can vary a bit from person to person, but they all follow specific rules that give away the whole purpose of ASMR. Common triggers include whispering, chewing, gentle touching or close up focus on the ASMR subject (like a doctor shining a light in your ear or quietly listening to your heartbeat with a stethoscope). When looking at the pleasure that the ASMR subject feels and the apparent intimacy of some of these triggers, it's easy to see why non-ASMR folks might think that it's a sexual thing. What's worse, it's very common to see someone with an actual sexual kink, swearing up and down that "It's not sexual! Really". So an ASMR subject promising that it's not sexual, can leave their friend rolling their eyes and thinking "Oh yeah, this stuff is TOTALLY sexual"

MY LIFE WITH ASMR

I know that this blog isn't about me, but I think that recounting my discovery and gradual understanding of ASMR might help a bit to explain exactly what it is. I'll mark these bits with a "TL;DR" so you can skip them if you like.

I WAS NOT A SMART KID (TL;DR... I didn't know where the tingles were coming from, I just accepted it)

I was born in 1973. It was in the late 70s that I started to experience the ASMR 'tingles', usually at school. I had no idea what was triggering it, I just knew that it was this wonderful feeling that happened sometimes and I didn't consider the reason or cause. Kids are very good at just accepting the world for what it is. To make my point, here are some things that I actually believed as a small child...

- I had no idea that elevators were meant to go up and down, I thought they always stayed still. I calmly and thoroughly believed that when the elevator doors closed with me and my Mom inside, the world outside the elevator was morphed into something different. I remember standing in an elevator and as the doors closed, I noticed a man standing in the hall just outside. When the doors opened again, an old lady was standing more or less where the man was. I thought the elevator had turned him into the old lady.

- I thought that if I smashed my family's TV screen, the cartoon characters would come out of it and play with me. I remember grabbing my 12 inch Spider-Man doll and hitting the screen over and over as hard as I could, during an episode of Tom & Jerry. Lucky I was not a strong kid and I failed to break the screen.

- I thought that the scuba divers I'd seen on TV were stupid for lugging around those big, heavy tanks on their backs. I thought "If I ever get to go scuba diving, I'm gonna cut the mouth piece off of the tube attached to the tank so I can breathe through that without needing the tank. They're dummies for not thinking of that."

- I once asked my Mom where babies come from. She told me "The man puts a seed inside the woman and that grows into a baby". That afternoon I stole a big box of sunflower seeds from our cupboard and went to the playground. I handed out sunflower seeds to all the girls to eat. I was excited about all the babies I was going to have.

So as you can see, it's no surprise that as a kid, I shrugged and accepted that the tingly sensations just... happened.

DISCOVERING MY TRIGGERS (TL;DR... I discovered that certain things trigger the sensation)

I kept the tingly feeling to myself and never told anyone else. For a lot of my childhood, I thought that I was the only person in the world feeling those tingles. I started to learn what the triggers were and I became more familiar with what caused the sensation.

- At one school I went to, we'd eat our lunches at our desks. As we all sat at our desks, eating out of our paper bags and Scooby-Doo lunchboxes, the girl in front of me happened to be a rather loud chewer. I sat eating my lunch and enjoying a session of tingles.

- At another school, the classroom was very silent as we all focused on an important math test. The girl in the desk next to me was breathing kinda loudly through her nose. This also set off the sensation.

- As a kid, we had a cool button stamp. We'd put the little metal disks into the device and pull the lever, creating a wearable button that showed off whatever picture we put inside. During the Christmas season, I used to draw dozens of colourful Christmas pictures and create tons of buttons. I'd then set up a table near the mall and sell them to people passing by. Many times, I'd get those tingles while watching someone slowly looking over my button display.

- I remember sitting at my desk at school and the boy sitting next to me didn't have a pencil, so he asked if I had one I could lend him. I opened up my pencil case and handed him my extra pencil. As I watched him concentrate on his schoolwork, using my pencil, I started to get the tingly feeling.

YOU MEAN I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE?! (TL;DR... I discovered that another kid also had ASMR)

One of my favourite triggers was a lice check. See, if a kid at school was sent home with lice, they'd get nurses to go from classroom to classroom, carefully checking each kid's hair for lice. They'd gently search through your hair with what appeared to be chopsticks. This was possibly the strongest trigger for me. I secretly loved lice checks. One day, two ladies came into our classroom to do a check. I inwardly cheered. Then suddenly a boy near the front of the class yelled out "Oh boy! I love when they do this! It makes my head feel all tingly!". What?!? No one could tell, but in my mind I was freaking out. What I thought to be something that only I experienced, suddenly became something others can have too. From then on, I looked at the phenomenon very differently. If it happens to others, then there must be a reason for it. Suddenly I was immensely curious about it all. I would have gone and talked to that kid about it, but... I hated him so much. He once asked for a bite of my doughnut and then shoved the whole thing in his mouth, grinning at me. Damn, I hated that kid.

THE INTERNET CHANGED EVERYTHING

Years later, this weird internet thing was suddenly exploding everywhere. I remember being at a friend's house while he showed me a few others, how it worked. We entered the word "vampire" (it was the 90s. Vampires were the most popular thing in the universe) into the pre-Google search engine and gasped as literally DOZENS of websites about vampires popped up! I quickly realised what I could do with something like this! I could type "boobs"! Later I realised that I could finally learn about these weird tingles. That's when I found that searching for info on something that has no name and is nigh impossible to describe, was really hard. I found nothing. Every year or so, I would get curious about the sensation and try another internet search. I don't remember the actual year that I finally found a forum on the subject, but I remember it was the computer set up that I had on 9/11, so it was somewhere around then (no disrespect intended, that was just a time we all remember clearly).

WE CALL IT ASMR PARTLY BECAUSE OF ME. ...SORT OF.

I was excited to jump into a group (I think it was on Yahoo or MSN or something) where I could finally talk to other people about this! We regulars in the group would talk about triggers, theories about why it exists and many, many complaints of trying (and failing) to convince others that this was in no way sexual.

A thread eventually popped up, discussing how this thing needs a name. We started suggesting ideas for what we could call it. I don't remember my suggestions but I'm sure they were awful. The name everyone settled on was... "Brain Orgasm". The new, official name was quickly used by the group. When I discovered that Brain Orgasm had been chosen, I wrote a thread arguing that we really shouldn't use that name. I explained that if we want to convince others that this is not sexual, we really should avoid the word "orgasm" in the title. Everyone agreed and so the naming process started again. This time a lady (I vaguely remember her being a doctor but I might be wrong about that) suggested that we call it "Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response" or ASMR. I immediately hated the name and declared that it was "worse than Brain Orgasm". I argued that it was hard to remember, hard to say and even the initials didn't roll off the tongue. I was sure the name wouldn't stick. But everyone except me loved it and so that became the official name for it. Obviously I was very wrong about the name and I'm glad everyone had the sense to disagree with me.

WHY DOES ASMR EXIST AND WHAT IS IT FOR?

Okay. Remember that while I honestly think I'm right about this and have spent four decades coming to this conclusion, this is just the opinion of one person familiar with the subject matter. As far as I know, there have been no proper studies to back up what I'm about to say.

We've all seen creatures like apes grooming each other, picking bugs, etc out of each other's fur. The ape being groomed always seems to be sitting still and calmly enjoying the attention. For those apes, grooming each other is a great way to keep clean and more likely to avoid diseases or infections. It's also a great way for creatures with simpler communication practices to bond socially. This bond encourages the animals to stick together for safety, share food and even defend each other when attacked. So grooming each other makes sense as an important instinct that would evolve over time. Dogs and cats have a form of this that has developed from our symbiotic relationship. They enjoy being pet or scratched which seems less about grooming and more about creating or strengthening a social bond (though I once found a tick on my dog while I was scratching her belly). Cats even purr, which honestly, if I had to attribute a sound to the feeling of ASMR, purring fits it perfectly.

So it's possible that the ape being groomed or the cat being pet, is feeling some form of ASMR. And it's just as possible that our hunter-gatherer ancestors who groomed each other in similar ways, also felt a kind of ASMR. In a harsh world of survival of the fittest, those who evolve the ability to feel pleasure from it are more likely to gain more benefits from the higher amount of cleanliness and social bounds. Consider what the ASMR sensation encourages the subject to do. Keep still, quiet and not interrupt the person triggering the feeling. Sometimes relaxing enough to fall asleep if the situation warrants it. All these tendencies brought on by ASMR aid the grooming process.

Now let's look at the triggers. If what I'm saying is true, then that explains the ASMR from something like a lice check, but what about those other triggers? They all seem to play a part in the grooming process as well.

- Whispering: The sound of someone whispering suggests physical closeness. The kind of personal space sharing required for ape-like grooming. Look at the ASMR videos on YouTube. They all whisper as close to the microphone as possible, creating a sense of intense closeness. Whispering is only heard if the person doing it is positioned very close to you. So it fits the grooming theory.

- Chewing, breathing and mouth sounds: Like whispering these sounds are almost always heard if the person making them is close to you. During those classroom lice checks, I'd hear the nurse breathing right into my ear, as she was very close. The tiniest movement of her lips or mouth was easily heard. It seems logical to me that as we evolve to adhere to being groomed, we'd respond to the sounds and sensations that would commonly be heard during each grooming.

- Borrowing my pencil or studying the buttons I made: The two important details here are focus and the subject's sense of self. The ape doing the grooming is going to be focused intently on what they're doing and that focus is completely on the subject being groomed. I thought of my pencil as 'mine'. An extension of my person. The same can be said for my buttons. I drew each one of those pictures by hand and so they were very much mine. When the kid focused on his schoolwork and therefore on my pencil or those people quietly studied my little pictures,  it triggered the ASMR as if a groomer was focusing intently on me.

I've never been into the YouTube ASMR roleplay videos, but look at the themes used to trigger people's ASMR. Roleplays about someone shaving you, cleaning your ears, doing your hair, etc. Those all point directly at grooming. Every trigger seems to be either a sound that's usually only heard close up, intense focus on the subject, gentle touching or something that mimics a feeling of isolated intimacy.

So to put it bluntly, I believe that ASMR is essentially a largely redundant grooming instinct left over from our times as hunter-gatherers, when grooming was far more important and vital.

-Tarol

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(anyone is welcome to repost this blog anywhere they like. I only ask that you credit me and include those links. Thank you.)