What Have You Done? Negan X Reader

Part One: Chapter Sixteen

"Calm down. I was just...talking with some new friends." She said, seeing his anger clearly building up, even though he had a plastic smile on his face.

"Define 'new friends', won't you, (Y/N)?" He asked her, his head tilting to the right.

When she didn't answer, he spoke again, answering his own question. "Frankie, Tanya, Sherry, Amber, Sydney, am I right?"

She just glared at him, and she wasn't even sure if he could see her expression in the darkness. "You could say that."

"I thought I told you to keep your distance from them."

"Do you honestly except me to live here for the rest of my life and never run into them?"

It was silent for a minute, then Negan sat back down. (Y/N) silently relaxed her body. She didn't even know how tense she was until she relaxed. She slowly and catiously sat down on the same couch, but as far away from him as she could. "Yeah." He said after a quiet minute.

"Yeah? Yeah, what?" She rebounded, frowning at him.

He took in a long sigh, rubbing his eyes. His words slurred together slightly when he spoke again. "(Y/N), just follow the rules. Stop making this so hard for me."

Is he drunk?

"What fucking rules? You're acting like we had a conversation about this shit, and we didn't. So, what the hell are you on about, Negan? Did you overdrink?" She asked, reaching forward to touch his face, but he slapped her hand away. She narrowed her eyes, falling back down into her spot on the couch.

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. It reminded (Y/N) of Frankie's laugh, but his was deeper and scarier, in a way. If they were dogs, Frankie would be a sweet little poodle, and Negan would be a pitbull. That's a bit steriotypical, though, isn't it? Maybe he would be a chihuahua, all bark, no bite. Negan was yet to really bite, but she knew it was only a matter of time until she pushed him too far.

"Yeah, maybe I drank too much. Consider drinking for four hours while I waited for your late ass 'overdrinking'?" He said, using his hands as qutation marks when he said 'overdrinking'. (Y/N) smiled sarcastically.

"The hell did you expect? I'm a goddamn adult, I don't need you to push and pull me around, telling me what to do and when to do it. You- you think that-"

"(Y/N), shut the hell up, for once in your life." Negan said, his tone tired as he covered his eyes with his hand.

"No, fuck you. For once, I'm going to talk." She said, sitting up straight, off the back of the couch.

"(Y/N). Shut the fuck up, I'm warning you."

"No. You just take what you want, take who you want. You kill whoever you want and you think it's all okay? You think you're saving people?" (Y/N)'s tone was condenscending, as if she was talking down a young child, like Sherry did to Tanya. She could see him getting angry, but once she started, she couldn't stop. "Fuck you, Negan. I'm getting out of here, right now. I'm done. Daryl and I- I'm just done. I'm not yours. I'll never be." She said, standing up. He did as well.

"You aren't going anywhere." He answered, his head down. She scoffed with a smile on her face.

"Oh, yeah? Watch me." She said, heading to the door. He followed her in silence. She opened the door, but he slammed it shut from behind her. She spun around, ready to give him a peice of her mind, but he slammed his other hand against the door, trapping her. She glared at his dark face from in between his arms, her own arms just lazily down at her sides.

With his face dangerously close to hers, she could smell the alchohol on his breath. "Don't make me make you physically incapable from leaving, (Y/N)." He said, his words mixing together, so the whole sentence sounded like one word.