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chrisevansluv · 3 years

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Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years

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The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 1

Summary: It was time for Fleur Swan to become Fleur Hale/Whitlock. She has started to adjust to the lifestyle of a vegetarian vampire as well as her powers, which she seems to develop a new one once in a while. But what happens when something happens that none of the Cullens are prepared for.

"Nature will get her way Though you took her for a fool Walking on the lake Frozen under you."

Run Cried the Crawling by, Anges Obel

When Bella got home from Vegas with Edward at her side it was the most pissed off my dad had ever been at her. He knew she would throw out the "I'll move away." Card on him but he wasn't fazed by it anymore. She was married, and a adult... he couldn't stop her. It was satisfying to see dad finally stand up to her, letting go of the fear of losing her. Bella eventually developed a guilty look on her face while Edward tensed by her side. She decided that she would have her honeymoon after Jasper and I got married, since dad would know we would both be out of the house. It confused me since she would have to wait 5 months just to go on her honeymoon, it also delayed her changing into a vampire. Since they both agreed to do it on there honeymoon.

Regarding me however my eyes are still a dark red rose color, which completely puzzled the Cullens. It confused me as well...knowing that after a year of transformation my eyes should be golden by now. I had never drunken an once of human blood but, my eyes were just as red as they were when I first turned. My blood lust got a lot better and I was beginning to gain control of my powers. It turns out I am also a shape shifter in a sense... I can transform myself into anyone I wanted to be. Things seemed to have calmed down it was nice to have a moment of serenity.

I stood in my room which was now void of my items being out on display. They were instead all in boxes stacked up on top of each other. Dad helped me out earlier in the day, it was nice to spend so one-on-one time with him while I still lived here. Bella was packing up too, excited to finally leave the house and become a vampire. She wouldn't let dad help her out however and spent her time locked up in her room. Probably waiting for Edward to enter and talk with her. I just sat down on my bed looking at my surroundings when I heard Jasper enter through my window.

"I was waiting for you to show up." I said grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

"Mmm, hello to you too." Jasper said.

"You're not going to believe who accepted my RVSP'd to the wedding..."

"Who is it?"

"My mom, her new husband is coming with her too."

"I hope they won't cause any trouble." Jasper grumbled.

"Well... the last thing I said to her was when I moved back down here when I was 15...I told her that next time I see her would be at my wedding. I then told her that she would enjoy the the open bar and her speech for me would be her barfing all over the place. So umm... be prepared for that to happen." I explained trying to hold in a laugh at the face Jasper made.

"Damn love...you're brutal sometimes."

"Thank you... that is so sweet to say!"

"You better get down to our place... Alice and Rosalie are waiting for you so they can throw you a Bachelorette party."

"Yeah... they'll probably break the house trying to get to me." I said and then began to laugh.

"Have fun darlin." Jasper said softly.

"You too, if Emmett, Edward, and Dean got you a stripper I will murder all of them."

"Don't worry about that darlin, we're merely going out to the woods to hunt bears... maybe a few mountain lions. Besides Edward won't be there anyway"

"Oh fun...wait, Edward won't be there?"

"Yeah... it seems he still holds a grudge after I called him a boy before the battle."

"Only a boy would be offended by that." I said

"I better go love you." Jasper replied and pecked my cheek.

"Love you too." I did the same thing, pecking his cheek. He left a few seconds afterward leaving me alone. I pulled on pair of boots and ran downstairs.

"I'll see you later dad, Rose and Alice are throwing me a little party."

"Alright Petal, love you."

"Love you too!"

I arrived at the Cullen's house in record time, my tracking ability had improved greatly. I zoomed up to the door and before I could open it Rosalie, Esme, Bree, and Alice stood there with excited smiles on their faces.

"The party has arrived." I said jokingly.

They all laughed and ushered me into the lounge room.

Bree had been living with us ever since the end of the battle, she struggled to conform to the diet after living off of human blood so long and she couldn't leave the house much since she was presumed dead. But Jasper has been helping her out a lot.

"I can't wait to see what you did with the venue outside... can I take a look?"

"No, you may not, Rosalie and I all agreed that you shouldn't see it until tomorrow. It'll be great with the pictures."

"Okay okay... is the dress finished?"

"Yes, now that you can see." Rosalie said, dragging me down to her room. A large vanity was set up with hundreds of makeup products. I turned around and saw my dress... it was beautiful.

(I know the dresses aren't exactly the same but just pretend the one showing off the back of the dress has sleeves haha.)

a"Oh my gosh Rose, you know my style so well."

"You're going to look beautiful tomorrow." Esme said, her gracious smile still on her face.

"Thank you guys so much... for everything."

"No problem Fleur, I can't wait for you to officially be a part of the family." Alice replied.

"So, how is everything back at home?" Rosalie said, already playing with my hair.

"It's tense...dad's pissed at Bella, Bella is pissed at dad. I still can't believe she actually eloped."

"Doesn't surprise me any... Bella's priorities have certainly changed." Alice grumbled.

"Yeah... not gonna lie though Alice they've always been like that, she just hid it from you guys pretty well."

"Yeah... I guess so." Alice said disappointment was on her face.

"Let's talk about something else...Fleur, did Jasper tell you where you two were going for your honeymoon?"

"No... he wants it to be a surprise, I can't wait to see where we're going."

"I'm sure it's going to be fun." Alice said, nudging me playfully.

"If I could blush right now, I would." I said.

Timeskip: The next day.

"Rosalie this is like we rehearsed it... smile and don't kill my mother." I reminded her.

"I'll try my best... Why does Bella have to be a bridesmaid again?" She said, brushing back my long black hair.

"Because I don't need my mother talking my ear off saying how selfish I am."

I saw Alice shake her head before going back to steaming my dress in the background.

"Fleur, Rosalie? Where are you guys?" I heard my dad call out.

"In here dad!" I called back.

"Renee get your butt up here your daughter is getting married. Get over this stupid grudge." I heard dad yell. Rosalie, Alice, and I all laughed.

"Aww, you look beautiful Petal." Dad said, smiling at me. I said Renee in the background she had a shocked look on her face.

"Thanks, Dad, you can thank Rosalie and Alice for all of this. Mom? You gonna come over? I'm not infected with anything you know."

She scoffed and walked up to me, we both gave each other fake smiles.

"Did you get plastic surgery? Your face looks... I don't know more sculpted." She said.

"No mother I just aged... the last time you saw me I was 15, I'm 20 now." I lied, everyone knew most vampires' facial features perfected when fully changed. But I couldn't exactly tell her that.

"Okay..." She said in a skeptical voice. I heard Rosalie growl behind me.

"Renee knock it off." Dad said he had a curt look on his face.

"Well since it's your wedding day we thought you needed something blue." Renee started, her face didn't look too happy.

"And something old, besides your mother." Dad joked, Rosalie and Alice let out a chuckle.

"Nice Charlie," Renee said rolling her eyes.

Dad then opened a jewelry box that had a hairpiece in it. I knew it was grandma swans.

"It was Grandma Swans, I added the Sapphires though, I thought it matched your ring pretty well. When the time comes around you can give it to your daughter." Dad said he handed it to Rosalie so she could put it in my hair.

"Aww thank you so much dad." I said I was lucky I didn't have my dress on yet so I could hug him.

"Should've saved this for Bella." Renee grumbled quitely.

"Oh no I forgot her veil, Rose could you come with me?" Alice asked.

Rosalie hesitated before answering.

"Sure..." They walked out a few seconds later.

"So... you stuck true to your guns. I didn't see you until your wedding day." Dad just looked at the two of us and walked out.

"Yep."

"How many men did you date before you got engaged to this one. I know how bored you can get." Renee said, implying I sleep around a lot.

"He's the first and only man I've dated." Renee's reflection was shocked in the mirror.

"Well... I knew my Bella would do that but... not, you." She said in a condescending voice.

"You have no idea what Bella has done."

"So who is he?" Renee said, ignoring my previous statement.

"His name is Jasper and he's an amazing, kind human being." I answered back, pride-filled my voice. I could suddenly feel Bella's presence behind the wall in the other room listening in on us.

"Sure... we all know women like you say that when the men have slept with you."

"You're childish insults do not bother me anymore mother."

"What childish insults? I'm stating facts." Renee said, acting innocent.

"Yeah, facts you convinced yourself are true."

"All I know is if my Bella wouldn't gotten married so young. So let's cut to the chase how far along are you?"

'I'm not pregnant Renee, I need to go help Rose and Alice find that veil." I got up to walk away when I got an idea.

"Oh by the way, Bella got married at nineteen in Vegas."

Renee just stood there in shock. I smiled in satisfaction.

"Enjoy the open bar!"

#jasper whitlock x oc #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #edward cullen #twilight saga #bella swan #twilight

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kileyrose-2003 · 4 years

Text

Rebecca character headcanons: How they react to seeing without a towel infront of them by accident after a shower

A/N: Hello lovelies! This is for my dear friend @merci-bitch I'm still working on all of your request. Most of them are being started from square one. So bare with me as I make it through them. Coming back fully is a work in progress for me. I'm going through a bit of a rough patch right now. It's all going to be okay in the end though. Just got to take everything one step at a time. I love you all and I hope you all have a wonderful day.

Warning: Implied/slight sexual content, slightly NSFW

Rose

This a common occurence with Rose

She hates shoes and I do headcanon she also dislikes clothes

She's very airy and bohemian in her style

Wears a lot of silk and cotton

She doesn't like feeling weighed down by fabric and material

It's very rare she actually wears a pair of form fitting pants when she's home

And even then, they're very stretchy

There are a couple of scene in Doctor Sleep where Stephen King explicitly writes she has no top on

Or no clothes in general

Especially around Crow.

She's a beautiful woman and she knows it

She even walks around The Bluebell Campground when she gets out the shower with only a bath sheet on

There is nothing sacred in The True Knot

They've heard and seen it all by now

So a person covered by only a bath sheet, doesn't bother them

You personally would never do it intentionally

And if you do accidentally expose yourself or run around improperly dressed, it's an accident or in the most dire of situations

At this point you're still freshly turned and holding onto rube morals still

Well

At least as much as you can being in The True Knot

On this particular occasion where you dropped the towel, it was Rose's turn to go grocery shopping

She gave you the option to come but you chose to stay behind

You slept in til about noon and you were in desperate need of a shower

And a cup of tea

She made you scream the night before

So after a little relaxation you took your shower

You're the fun one in the relationship

So if you like to sing, you sing in there. If you like to dance, you danced.

Point being you lost track of time

The cold water beading down on your skin was a harsh reminder of that

You stepped out, dried yourself

Dropped the bath towel

Went to pick out some clothes

The curtains were shut so it wasn't like anyone could see inside the trailer

Or at least you thought so

Until you heard the clicking of the door knob

You froze, panic running through your body

There was Rose, paperbags filled with groceries in her arms

At first the two of you stood there looking at each other with blank faces

Somewhere in the midst of your shock, you can hear Crow standing outside the trailer politely leaving the other bags on the steps

And you become even more mortified

But eventually Rose began to smile

"Well, that's a greeting in half isn't it."

You're immediately embarrassed by the remark which makes Rose grin even more

"No, no, no. No shame. It's not like it's the first time I've seen you in this setting, right?"

You stumble on your words even more

And you can tell Rose is genuinely enjoying it

You don't know what to do

What to say

Part of you is humiliated

But before you can conjure any words, her lips crash down upon yours, fingers running through your hair.

She is loving every single moment of this.

Especially your flustered expression afterwards

Needless to say you're not going to be needing clothes for quite a while now

Riza

Like Rose this is probably a more common occurence on Riza's part

Except with Riza, its not a matter of she hates clothes

She just likes to tease

In this scenario, Riza was out on business

She had to negotiate a new contract with an arms dealer and she wasn't supposed to be back for a few days so you had the house to yourself

As I mentioned before Riza hates anything deemed "domestic"

So you took it upon yourself to tidy up while she was gone

After a day of cleaning, you desperately needed the shower

You took longer than you normally would of, humming to yourself as you washed up

You didn't hear the clicking of the bedroom door opening mid way through

You dried off and stepped out of the shower, still singing to yourself. Not bothering to cover up with the towel.

And as you step out of the bathroom there is Riza

Comfortably lounged out on your bed, clad in a bathrobe with her martini glass in hand

She has been waiting to see the day that she could pull this off and now she can

"Hello, darling."

Her tone is sweet but clearly hints at a seductive nature

You nearly fall onto the floor, next expecting her to be there.

She laughs at you clearly entertained by not only the expression on your face but also your attire

"You're too cute, Y/n."

As she begins to approach you, she stands as tall as she can. Trying to intimidate you with her height.

"You really are such a precious thing, aren't you? So petite and most importantly, all mine."

She presses gentle kisses up and down your neck that leave you in shock

Riza knows she's seducing you every step of the way and she is loving it

She leads your hands down to the tie on her silk robe and squeezes your hand in hers

"Do you want to see what things you do to me?"

I think everyone can fill in the rest of the picture here

Kathleen

Even though Kathleen is a bit of a flirt and sometimes a tease, there are clear boundaries between the two of you

In every relationship there is a need for privacy and respect

If you have neither of those, the relationship won't work

So between the two of you, you respect the other one's need for privacy

Kathleen would never do anything to make you uncomfortable intentionally, and you are the same way towards her

Even though you share a room, you have a knock before you enter policy

Sure you've seen each other naked before, but it's what makes the two of you most comfortable

So her seeing you naked in this situation, was honestly a complete accident

You and Kathleen work different shifts

She teaches theatre during the day and you teach music at nights

You normally do your hair, makeup, etc. while Kathleen is out the house that way you can see her for a few minutes before heading your own way

You showered about an hour after she left

After you dried off, you had no hesitation to just rip the towel off

After all, it shouldn't be a big deal

You have curtains in your apartment , the front door is locked, etc.

You walk into your bedroom softly humming to yourself and much to your surprise there's Kathleen

Rummaging through your shared bedroom trying to find her wallet

The two of you immediately let out a yell and yiy try to make an attempt to cover yourself with anything in sight

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell am I doing?! I thought you were at work."

"I was at work but I had Augustus cover for me so I can run home. I can't find my damn wallet!"

You both were so embarrassed and your faces were evidence of that

It's something you both laugh about now but at the moment, it was not so funny.

After throwing on a bath robe and twenty minutes of searching, you eventually found the wallet and Kathleen was ready to go

She wrapped her arms around you at the front door

"Well that was quite the experience. Wouldn't you say so, darling?"

The smirk on her face is evidence she's well over the incident

But you can't help but tease

"Don't act like you didn't like it." You loop your arms around her neck. "I seen the way that you looked at me without that towel on before we had a moment to process."

The way she purses her lips makes your heart pound from the residual anxiety

But she eventually kisses you on the lips

The kiss last a while and leaves you out of breath

But it's a nice farewell that leaves a smile on your face

She might show you how much she loves you later on a day off after a drink or two

It's the little moments like this that make your relationship special

Jenny

Like I've mentioned before, Jenny is very clingy to who she deems as "hers"

So when it comes to your relationship, she has no sense of privacy or space at times

You could be in the middle of taking a shower and all the sudden

"You know, this is my favorite outfit."

And there's Jenny with her head either peaking in the shower or standing in the shower with you

It's a bit annoying and it's caused a few arguments between the two of you but you won't let it ruin your relationship

So this her seeing you naked thing, is somewhat common

On the occasion you accidentally dropped the towel, you thought she was downstairs rehearsing for her next show

She had a tour planned for the following week around Europe so you figured mine as well you do something nice to her before she goes on the road

You purposely picked out nice clothes

Spread them out all nice on the bed

You stepped out of the shower

Dried yourself off

Dropped the towel and as you're midway through walking to the bedroom

"Darling, I'm-"

You freeze up

And Jenny just stared at you

You can see her cheeks turn red and muttered a small "I'm sorry."

But she isn't

And her face shows it

Her lips are hinting at a slight smile

Smugness gleaming in those piercing eyes

"Could you stop staring at me like that?"

"Like what?"

And she knows damn well how she's staring at you

Her eyes wandering all over the place

"Like you're hypnotized."

"Well if I'm hypnotized by you tell me, how do I fix it?"

I think we all know how this ends

Rebecca

Rebecca is a very non judgmental person and has a good sense of humor

She's not the type that would make a huge deal about accidentally seeing you naked after a shower

Especially if it was within a time frame you didn't expect her to be home

Because she does travel alot for work

She'd be a little embarrassed at first

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry!"

Her cheeks would be cherry red and immediately reaching out to hand you your towel

And she'd step out to give you a moment to get dressed

Trying to make small talk to get both your minds off the incident

But afterwards it doesn't cross either of your minds

She's back to her normal self, hanging all over you every second she can and snogging

Dinah

If I already didn't want to hug Dinah, her reaction to this makes me want to hug her even more

Dinah is big on privacy

Even in your relationship, she likes to keep some things to herself

She will cuddle with you

She will kiss you

She will hug you

But she will not get undressed infront of you

And she absolutely would not want to see you naked

Under any circumstance

Her seeing you nude is something she is just not ready for

It's nothing against you

But she still needs time to heal and she doesn't know if she's ready for that next level in your relationship

And you respect that completely

The day she seen you naked was a complete accident

Dinah was busy doing errands and such while you were soaking in the bath after a long day of cleaning, so you figured she wouldn't be home anytime soon

Your body was fiercely sore. It hurt to even wrap a towel around it.

So what was the harm in not putting on a towel

As you were half way to your room, you heard the door the padding of feet softly across the floor and you froze

"Y/n, I'm back. My apologies, I-"

Yours and Dinah's eyes interlock and she nearly lets out a scream

She was petrified and looked near the verge of tears

Whether it was out of shock or embarrassment you can't tell

But it hurt so much inside to see her like that

You open your mouth to say something but before you even have the chance to say anything she's running outside

You debate on going after her right away but what good would it do?

She was already scared as it is and it's not like you can take the chances of walking outside nude

So you throw on a dress and shawl as quickly as you could and go to find her

When you do, she has her face buried in her hands but she's not crying which brings some relief

It was an accident obviously so she immediately forgives you but it's an incident that still sticks in your head for the next couple of days

Ilsa

Ilsa is similar to Rebecca in this situation except the shock factor hits her harder

She was off on a mission for the past couple of weeks and you were missing her terribly

Ilsa was supposed to be home earlier during the day but something came up

So you figured you'd take the time to make her a nice dinner and make yourself up

You didn't even hear her walk through the front door when she got home

You had the stereo on as you were making dinner and never bothered to shut it off

You dried off quickly in the bathroom and left the towel on the counter as you stepped out

You walked into your room expecting to be alone but there was Ilsa, clad in her favorite sweats and t shirt

Her eyes lock with yours and for a second it's intense, almost as if she's mad at you

If you weren't so locked up, you would of been running to find the nearest item of clothing and Ilsa must of seen it

Her expression quickly faded into an almost hinted smile and she blushed

"Hell-I am so sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I made dinner if you want it. Do you mind to-"

"No, not at all."

You notice her eyes lingering as she leaves you alone to get dressed and you can't help but feel slightly humiliated

But by the time you're out of the room and dressed, she's over it and is all over you

Kissing your face all over and holding you close

The time you get alone is rare, but you both cherish it

#ilsa faust #rose the hat #jenny lind #headcanons #kathleen weatherly #rebecca ferguson #riza stavros #the red tent #dinah

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the-mykie-show · 5 years

Text

After your night with Negan you have to make an important decision, meanwhile your ex struggles to accept that your relationship is over and after he takes things too far Negan comes up with a plan to teach him a lesson once and for all.

*rating* explicit

*warnings* rough sex, multiple sex positions, semi public fingering, blow jobs, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kind of stalking.

In your dazed, half asleep state you almost mistake Negan's arm still wrapped around your waist for your ex's, before memories of last night flood back into your consciousness. You let out a contented sigh, remembering how Negan touched you, the way his tongue felt between your legs, how his cock filled you.

“You awake, darlin’?” he asks, his fingers brush your hair off your neck for him to press a soft kiss under your ear.

“Yeah.” you whisper, rolling over on the plush pillows to face him.

You're both still naked, and you feel the unmistakable ache that only really good sex could leave between your legs.

“You sleep alright?” he asks.

“Like a rock.” you replied.

“Yeah, couple of good orgasms will do that for you” his signature cocky smirk lights up his face.

You smack his shoulder playfully.

“You want to shower before you go?” he asks.

“That would actually be great. You joining?”

“Nah I got some shit to take care of.” Negan shows you to his personal bathroom, it's just as lavish as his bedroom, a large tub sits in one corner, a glass shower stall in the other, with plush black rugs,and matching fluffy towels. You could almost forget the apocalypse even happened in here.

He gives you some shampoo and soap, and leaves you to it.

You notice in the floor length mirror that you have several hickeys on your neck and inner thighs, and a bruise shaped like Negan's fingers on your hip. You don't mind them though.

Once you've showered and wrapped yourself in a towel you leave the bathroom to go find your clothes wherever they were scattered last night. You expect Negan to be long gone, off attending to whatever the Sanctuary needed today, but instead he's waiting for you by the bed. He's already gathered your clothes and put them into a neat pile on end of the bed, next to them however is nice set of lingerie accompanied by a short black dress.

“What's this?” you ask looking between Negan and the dress.

“It's a proposal of sorts. If you want to say no you can, no questions asked, but I was hoping you would be my wife.” you're stunned by him yet again, you thought last night was a one time hookup, you weren't expecting him to ask you to join the six other girls he called his wives, you'd never given if you're opposed to the idea or not any thought. You'd never had reason to having been what you thought was a happy relationship.

“I don't know. Can I think about it?” you ask sheepishly.

“Yeah, of course. Regardless of what you decide, I'd fucking love to have a repeat of last night.” he says, pulling to him and planting a kiss on your lips. It starts to heat up right as someone knocks urgently on his door.

“What the fuck do you want?” he breaks the kiss to shout at the person on the other side of the door.

“We have a problem, sir.” Negan rolls his eyes.

“If you'll excuse me I have some clusterfuck to fix.” he leaves you to make your choice on your own. In the end you decide to keep the back dress but wear your own clothes for now.

You make your way down to the cafeteria for breakfast, loading your plate with your favorites, shooting the grumpy lady in a hairnet who always serves your morning meal a friendly smile which quickly fades once you remember that you no longer have a boyfriend to eat breakfast with.

Your steamy fling with Negan was enough to make you forget all about your lying scumbag of an ex for one night, but now in the cold light of day you're forced to confront the fact that you're alone now.

The little black dress laying upstairs in your room begins to look better and better as you find an empty table and settle in for your morning meal alone. You watch Negan's wives as you eat, they've always intimidated you since you arrived at the Sanctuary, but watching them now they seem nice enough. You watch as a pretty redhead throws a rolled up napkin at a tall dark skinned women sitting across from her and all the girls laughed together.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an unfortunately familiar voice “Y/N! I've been looking all over for you all night. Where were you?” your ex stands in front of you.

“None of your business.” you snap.

“Come on, don't do this babe. I made a mistake, and I'm so sorry. Can you please give me another chance?” he pleads.

“No. You can go fuck yourself.” you take an angry bite of your breakfast not even bothering to look at him.

“Are those hickeys? Are you already fucking someone else?” he's angry now, he grabs your arm yanking you to face him suddenly.

“Who the fuck is he? You little whore getting with another guy the night you break up with me!” his grip on your arm gets bruising tight on your arm.

“I broke up with you because you cheated on me you stupid prick!” you try to jerk your arm away from him but he won't let you go. You start to get a little scared.

“You're hurting me, let me go.” he does, but you're certain it's only because people are starting to stare.

You feel sick to your stomach, you don't even want your breakfast anymore.

You managed to make it through the rest of the day without another run-in with your ex, you do run into Negan a few times but he doesn't ask if you've made a decision yet, just shoots you a knowing smirk and winks at you on his way by.

That night when you go back to your room you notice a small wicker basket by your door, it's filled with fresh wild flowers, a stuffed animal, and a bottle of wine that someone had to have spent a shit ton of their points on. At first it makes you smile, you think it must be from Negan, an attempt to win you over and get to say yes to being his wife no doubt. Then you see the card attached to the basket and realize it's from your ex.

“I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I need you. I love you.”

You stuff the stupid note back into the basket and shove it aside.

You don't care if he spent all his points on this apology basket, you don't care how much he wants you back, it isn't gonna happen.

The next morning there is yet another basket outside your door, this time with chocolates, a heart shaped necklace, and a bottle of whiskey.

After lunch another one arrives. At this point you start to fear that your ex is turning into a stalker, and people on your hall are starting to notice the heap of gifts outside your door, you hope someone will steal them so that you don't have to deal with them, but Negan has rules against such things that he enforces harshly when necessary so no one dares to.

That night when you returned to your room your door is unlocked. You know you locked it, your heart beats violently with fear, but you open the door anyway, your hand wrapping the knife at your hip.

You recognize the figure standing at the end of your bed seconds before you stab him. It's your ex.

“What are you doing in my room you psycho?!” you yell at him, flipping on the light, still branching your knife. You notice that he's spread rose petals around the room, as if a sappy romantic gesture was enough to win you back.

“I came to prepare a romantic evening for us.” he says, turning around slowly “Instead I found this.” he holds up the black dress Negan gave you.

“So you fucked Negan huh? And he asked you to join his little whore house. Can't say I'm surprised, that is his MO. Just like he did to Dwight. You gonna have him burn my face off too?” he laughs bitterly. “Just at least answer me this. Did you sleep with him when we were together?”

“No of course not. I was loyal to you, even though you cheated on me, lied to me, ignored me, treated me like shit. I was loyal. That night was the first time I've slept with anyone that wasn't you in years. In fact it'd been so long I'd forgotten sex is actually supposed to feel good until Negan.” you know you're playing with fire but you just can't help yourself.

“Come on Y/N you can't possibly mean that. We had good sex, you loved me. It's not too late, we can still get it all back.” he's pleading with you again, desperation in his eyes.

“I don't want it back. I don't want you back.” you say matter of factly.

“Please don't say that Y/N! I love you, I need you back.” you shake your head gesturing to the open door.

“I said no, now take your shit and get out of my room.”

“It's our room. Please just let me make it up to you. I could fuck you so much better than him.”

“No you really can't, not that it would matter if you could because we're over, and tonight I'm saying yes to Negan.” you hadn't even completely made up your mind about Negan's proposal until that moment but you know you're making the right decision.

“No! You can't, you belong to me, you're my girl.”

“I don't belong to anyone, I'm a person you shit head! Not a piece of property. But tonight I will be a married woman and you're going to have to accept that.” his eyes burn bright with anger, and for a moment you fear you're going to have to use your knife, lucky for you your neighbor across the hall, a sweet older lady who works in the gardens, comes home at the right moment.

“Are you okay, dear?” she asks, poking her head into your room. Your ex shoots you a dirty look and throws the black dress at you on his way out with a growl of “This isn't over.”.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you assure your neighbor before closing the door and going to work cleaning up the rose petals all over your room.

It takes forever to get them put into a pile on the floor, and before you can finish you hear a knock on the door. You freeze, you fear its your ex back to harass you more, but then Negan's voice speaks from the other side of the door.

“You in there babygirl?” you open the door, he sees you're wearing the little black dress and grins from ear to ear.

“You're saying yes?” he asks.

“Yes.” you returned his grin and he yanks you into a tight hug and presses his lips against yours in deep kiss. When you both come up for air he sees the mess of petals and gifts spread around your room.

“What's all this shit?” he gestures to the room with a leather clad hand.

“What do you think?” you sigh “my ex wants me back. He's trying very hard.”

“Of fucking course he does, you're a goddamn catch.” he smirks, playfully slapping you on the ass.

“Yeah, well he should have thought about how much he loved me before he did what he did.” you shake your head with disappointment.

“Yeah, he sure as shit should have. Do you want me to talk to him?” Negan offers, picking up the bottle of wine the idiot had left and examining it.

“I think that might make it worse, he thinks I belong to him.” Negan places the bottle down with the rest of the unwanted gifts and pulls you to him, his gloved hand sweeping your hair back to press his lips against your ear.

“Well then, maybe we just need to show that little prick who you really belong to.” he nips your ear lobe and your knees go weak.

Negan explains the rest of his plan, all while letting his hands wander all over your body, gently kneading your breasts, and eventually working your dress up over your ass, feeling you up and admiring the way your ass looks in the lingerie he gave you all the while.

You're unsure about his plan, you worry it will make the situation worse, not to mention it's a little intrusive and awkward, but in the end you decide to trust Negan.

You wait in Negan's office with him while he sends a Savior to find your ex, “you look nervous. Don't be,” he reassures you “it's not like this is anything either of us hasn't seen before.”

“I know, it's just I feel weird about this.” you admit.

“You don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can call it off.” you knew Negan would let you stop this whole thing on a moment's notice with no questions asked, that was a big part of why you trusted him with this. If anyone else had suggested this idea to you, you would have laughed in their face and told them to go fuck themselves. But this was Negan.

“No, let's do it.” you say.

Negan lifts you onto his desk, standing between your legs, he pulls you into a kiss that starts soft but soon turns rough, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the ache between your legs already stirring up again.

His lips move to your neck, “You sure you're good with this? You feel a little tense.”he says against your skin.

“Yeah, I'm just nervous, what he reacts violently?” he keeps kissing your neck, softly sucking in the sensitive spots, and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk.

“Do you realize who you're talking to?” he asks “He wouldn't dare. Now spread your legs for me, baby.” you do as he asks, opening your legs to reveal your bare sex, this plan requiring you to take off the lace panties.

He presses two fingers to your lips, “Get em nice and wet,”

you take them in your mouth and suck on them softly, wetting them so they'll slide inside you easier.

“Damn I can't wait to feel that mouth around my cock.” he groans pulling his fingers from between your lips and sliding them between your thighs, you feel them press against your already wet entrance.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod. His fingers fill you all at once in one smooth flick of his wrist, your thighs clamping around his hand.

He easily finds your sweet spot and slowly drags the pads of his fingers against it, your body clenching around him. Footsteps approach outside the door and his fingers still inside you, giving you the chance to change your mind. But you shake your head.

“Good girl, let me feel that tight little pussy come.” you can't hold in the moan when the heel of his hand rubs against your clit at the same time his fingers rub something deep inside you.

The Savior Negan had sent to get your ex knocked on his office door, you fidget nervously as Negan orders them to come in, his fingers still buried deep inside you.

You feel your ex’s shocked stare as realizes what Negan is doing to you. Negan holds up his unoccupied hand, signaling him to wait.

“C'mon baby, I know you like it when I fuck you real slow, but I got business to attend to.” his fingers feel so good inside you it isn't even awkward, you hands involuntarily grip his shoulders, moans falling from your lips as he makes you come. Your core tightening around him as you come, a warm wet rush coating his fingers in the evidence of just how good he made you feel.

You lean back on your elbows on his desk, feeling drunk on pleasure despite your ex standing there dumbfounded by what he'd just witnessed.

Negan turns to face him, licking the arousal and come from his fingers.

“Sorry about that, man.” he says with a smirk “gotta keep my girl satisfied, not that you'd probably know anything about pleasuring a woman” he laughed.

“What the hell is this?” your ex says. “I thought you wanted to talk to me?” he's pushing his luck with Negan.

“I sure as shit do. You got any ideas why that might be?”

“Not really, but is guess it has something to do with her?” he looks at you with disdain in his eyes, maybe even disgust.

“Well looks like you're not as big of a dumbass as I thought, because you are right. My wife here tells me you won't accept that she's over your ass and leave her alone.” his eyes dance between you and Negan, looking rather afraid now. He knows he should be nervous, even if you weren't Negan's newest wife he wouldn't take kindly to a man harassing, borderline stalking a women. He probably thinks Negan has a much more severe punishment in mind, like the iron or the cells, or maybe even the fence.

“It's not like that…” he stammers “it's just… I.. I wanted to apologize and ask for her back. I wasn't gonna hurt her!”

“The thing is you already did apologize and ask for her back. It became concerning after you grabbed her and screamed at her in the cafeteria, and it became creepy after you you broke into her room. I'm not going to ask you to justify your shit ass choices, but I am going to have to insist that you apologize to the lady and swear on your nutsack this shit won't happen again.” Negan explains.

“I did nothing wrong, in fact that little whore should be thankful someone even wants that used up cunt enough to fight for her at all.” his words feel like a slap in the face, how could he say that about you? You thought he cared about you at least a little even after everything he did to hurt you.

Negan's whole demeanor changes, his eyes becoming dark and cold, almost murderous.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he growls, and before you know what's happening your ex is thrown against the wall and Negan's hands are around his throat.

“You don't fucking talk about my woman like that, you hear me you little fucker?” your ex struggles to breath, trying to push Negan off him. Negan doesn't budge until his face turns blue, finally letting him go and throwing him to the floor.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything Y/N! ”

“And?” Negan growls.

“And it won't happen again, I'll leave you alone.” he looks almost in tears.

“Good, now get your ass out of my sight.” he scrambles to his feet and hurries from Negan's office.

“You okay babygirl?” he asks once the office door slams behind your ex.

“Yeah, I just feel like an idiot.” you stare down at your feet in shame.

“You're not an idiot, baby.” he wraps his arms around you. “and you aren't a whore either. You can't let that shit get to you, he's just an asshole who didn't see what a beautiful, smart amazing woman he had, not to mention hot as fuck and awesome in bed.”

You smile a little at his words. “I'm pretty sure you don't hear this often enough, but you're a good guy, Negan.” you pull him down into a kiss, which he gladly reciprocates. “now why don't we finish what you started?”

“That's my dirty girl,” he smirks. “How about you get down on your knees for me?”

You gladly drop to your knees, reaching up to open his pants and pulling them down his legs with his boxers all at once, his manhood already hard. Staring up at him with the most innocent, doe eyed expression you can muster, you grip him by the hilt, you pop his tip in your mouth, sucking on it and curling your tongue around it, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Damn baby!” he groans. You can already taste his precome, so you tongue his slit making his hips involuntarily twitch and slide his cock against the back of your throat. You gag a little, not expecting the sudden thrust.

“Sorry sweetheart, I just couldn't help myself. You don't gotta deep throat me if you don't want to, this feels fucking amazing on its own.” you respond by slowly swallowing him all the way until you feel his tip at the back of your throat, you somehow managed to swallow him almost all the way to his balls, not leaving much of his shaft for you to stroke so instead you cup his balls kneading them while you suck. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and he lets out a deep moan.

Slowly pulling off, you suck his tip a little harder this time and then swallow him “Shit baby,” he groans “keep sucking my cock like that and you're gonna be my fuckin’ favorite in no time.” his hand twists in your hair, pulling gently as you bob your head up and down on his shaft. “Oh fuck yeah, just like that.” you feel his balls tense in your hand before he even warns you that he's going to come. You heed his warning by sucking his tip while he comes with a load groan. You swallow as much as you can before letting his half soft member slip from between your lips.

“That's my good girl.” his hand strokes your hair “Now that I've made that pretty little mouth mine, why don't you go bend over my desk and let me take you from behind?”

You stand up, and bend over his desk like he asked, he comes up behind you, his hand pressing your top half down while the other pushes your dress over the curve of your ass exposing you to him.

“You loved coming on my fingers in front of that prick didn't you?” his hand dipped between your legs.

“Yes.” you moan, admitting the truth that you'd gotten off on Negan pleasuring you in front of your ex, showing him how a real man gave a woman pleasure.

His fingers find your core, easily sliding inside you.

“Oh darlin’ you're fucking soaked. Did sucking me off get you this wet?” you nod.

He's already hard again and lining himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing into you.

“Ready babygirl?” he asks.

“Yes.” you moan. Your voice is so full of lust you barely recognize it as your own.

He enters you with one hard but smooth thrust, your body spasming around him as he lets you adjust to his size. At this angle it's even more obvious that he's a lot bigger than you're used to, once you're adjusted to the feeling of being filled so deeply you push your ass against his hips, pressing his cock deeper inside you.

Once he knows you're ready you feel him withdraw slightly and snap his hips forward with enough force to shake the desk, the angle is perfect, each thrust hitting that little spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

“You like that baby? You like my cock filling you up?” he thrusts roughly again. You'd never liked rough sex before Negan, but now it felt amazing, you figure maybe you'd just never had it done right before Negan.

“Harder.” you found yourself moaning the command after a few more rough thrusts, even Negan seems surprised by it, but he does it anyway. The force of his thrusts rattle the whole desk, knocking a lamp over and sending some books crashing to the floor.

You feel your core tightening with your building orgasm, each thrust increasing the intensity, and making your walls squeeze him.

“Damn you're so fucking tight.” he groaned.

“You gonna come for me… again.” you can practically feel the smirk in his voice, and I want to say something snide back, but then his hand reaches around, his fingers finding you clit. He teases the sensitive bundle of nerves with a maddeningly light touch, the complete opposite of his rough, hard thrusts.

You feel your walls start to flutter and throb around him, your orgasm finally over taking you, he drags your pleasure out with slow but hard and deep thrusts, his fingers still working your over stimulated clit, while your toes curl in your shoes and your hands hang onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

Your core is still spasming with aftershocks of your orgasm when Negan finds his release, his body going rigid behind you as you feel him spill inside you. He keeps thrusting as hard as he can until he's spent himself completely and his cock starts to soften.

In one dizzying movement he pulls out and turns you around to face him.

“Fuck, I am a lucky man! I'm glad you said yes, babygirl.” he kisses you, this time it's soft and lazy. And you've never felt more content than you do in his arms, that somehow still pleasurable freshly fucked ache deep inside you and his come on your thighs.

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