#rosita x reader x michone

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had all realised how much you liked spending time together, even if it was doing your duties

・The banter was top-notch; constantly teasing each other, laughing and ultimately making life a little brighter

・On the long watches with Rosita, you learned a lot about her. How she didn’t like certain foods, especially canned, bland food (which was practically all you guys ate). Her favourite animals and favourite colour. 

・Your original impression was that Rosita was a stone-cold bitch. And ... that was somewhat true, but you now knew her as a loveable stone-cold bitch. 

・Michonne had so much responsibility on her shoulders that she actively sought you two out for some relief. You were always able to brighten her day. 

・Rosita had a lot of insight for Michonne, and it helped her decision making

・You didn’t think anything of the relationship - the three of you saw it as a friendship

・But it wasn’t until Eugene asked if the three of you were romantically involved, that you started to see Rosita and Michonne differently

・Neither woman is super cuddly, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any affection in your relationship. Michonne likes her face to be held in her hands, a thumb gently rubbing her cheek. Rosita loves to be hugged from behind, she rests her head back against your shoulder. 

・Rosita gets the most jealous. She doesn’t like when someone looks at either you or Michonne for too long. Whether that’s in a romantic way - or to size you up. She’ll be right by your side, ready to jump in and kick that person’s ass

・Michonne is very organised, she knows where important things are; hidden weapons, extra clothes, snacks, keys etc. While Rosita can find things in her messy chaos

・Wearing each other’s clothes or accessories: 

    “Hey, is that my- oh, okay. It looks much better on you.”

・You were the first one to say “I love you,” Michonne was the second and Rosita was last

・Everyone sees you three as this power trio. Not to be f*cked with - no one talks about you guys behind your backs. That’s how intimidating you three are. 

・Although you three are daunting, women and children feel incredibly safe with any of you. And this isn’t a coincidence or by accident 

・All three of you understand the troubles and dangers that women and girls experience. So you all make sure that respect and safety are priorities. If anyone makes them uncomfortable, you guys come down like a hammer. Your community is a safe haven, and that means safe for every single person. 

・You guys go on feminine hygiene runs - pads, tampons etc. One time you actually hit the jackpot and found a bunch of period underwear, diva cups, baby wipes, and nappies (both baby and adult). 

・In addition, on your runs you try and find birth control - condoms, the pill, and other medication (anti-depressants, anti-anxiety etc) 

・Rosita likes when you play with her hair; massaging her scalp, twirling her hair around your fingers, braiding and plaiting. 

・Michonne only ever lets you and Rosita see her cry

・On runs you try and find jewellery for Rosita and Michonne. Because those stores were forgotten about - they didn’t have anything important for an apocalypse, you were able to find pieces that relate to the women:

You see them as gold rather than silver. However, Michonne would be white gold. 

Rosita is garnet, ruby, and diamond

While Michonne is sapphire, jade and emerald

・They both showed you how to use their weapons and vice versa

・During fights, the three of you usually fight back to back 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

The Train by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・Soldier (Rosita) x Poet (You) x King (Michonne)

・Look At Us Wrong And We’ll Kill You x3

・Sun (Rosita) x Moon (Michonne) x Eclipse (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Romance During An Apocolypse

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Rosita loves being dominated. She’s a dominant person in her day-to-day life, so when it comes to sexual desires, she wants to be told what to do

・Michonne is a switch, but on certain nights she’s the best dominatrix 

・You’re a switch, both happy to be dominated or to dominate 

・There aren’t a lot of places to get lingerie or sex toys, so you all have to improvise and be creative. So this one time, Rosita found a big red shirt and cut it very short, and at the hemline, she ripped it so her cleavage was on display. 

・It drove both you and Michonne crazy, because she wasn’t wearing anything else but that

・Michonne likes to tie you both up and tease you relentlessly. Slowly touching your body parts

・You like to have both of them on their knees, begging for you

[bked0n-lorazepam]

My Requests are open!

Hi guys, I know it's been a while, but I'm back, and with new people who I'll be happy to write for you; here's my list!

The Walking Dead:

Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Negan Smith, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Rhee, Enid Rhee, Michonne, Rosita, Simon, Abraham, Carol, Jesus "Paul", Shane, Sasha, Dwight, Beth

House MD:

Gregory House, Lisa Cuddy, James Wilson, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, "Thirteen"

CreepyPasta:

Jeff The Killer, Toby Rogers, BEN Drowned, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Jane The Killer, Nina The Killer, Hoodie, Masky, Liu, Sally

Slashers/Creepos:

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Chucky/Charles Lee Ray, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, BeetleJuice

Criminal Minds:

Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Tara Lewis, Cat Adams, George Foyet

White Collar:

Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Alex Hunter, Diana Berrigan, Lauren Cruz, Clinton Jones

Hannibal NBC:

Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, Beverly Katz, Freddie Lounds

Marvel Universe:

Loki Laufeyson, Mobius Mobius, Thor Odinson, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfied, and Tom Holland), MJ Watson, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Prince T'Challa, Princess Shuri, Okoye, Carol Danvers, Gamora, Peter Quill, Nebula

IT (2017 and 2019):

Patrick Hockstetter, Henry Bowers, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Stanley Uris, Pennywise

Stranger Things:

Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Joyce Byers, Jonathon Byers, Jim Hopper, Max Mayfield, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Karen Wheeler, Dr. Brenner, Argyle, Billy Hargrove

Once Upon a Time:

Rumplestiltskin, Emma Swan, Prince Charming, Snow White, Regina Mills, Henry Mills, Killian Jones, Baelfire, Robin Hood, Peter Pan, Belle, August/Pinocchio, Ruby/Red, Zelena

Good Omens:

Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel, Anathema Device, Newton "Newt" Pulsifer, Beelzebub, Muriel

Avatar:

Jake Sully, Neytiri, Kiri (No smut), Lo'ak (No smut), Neteyam (No smut)

The Boys:

Homelander, Billy Butcher, Becca Butcher, Frenchie, Hughie Campbell, Mothers Milk, Queen Maeve, Starlight, A-Train, Deep, Black Noir, Firecracker, Kimiko "The Female", Ashley Barret, Ryan Butcher (No smut), Victoria Neuman, Soldier Boy

And that's it so far! I'll add more as I go, I swear <3

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 5. Secrets hurt

First | Previous | Next

Listen I don’t know why I decided to give each chapter an artsy title I just did. Also as anyone following this may have noticed this story isn’t gonna be regularly updated but rather updated when I have something I’m proud enough to post though I am determined to finish this series, just school comes first. I hope you understand.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The winter continued like that. He’d bring you food and you’d give him goods, even visiting multiple times a week. Sometimes he’d tell you about the stuff, holding up a jar of applesauce ‘from The Kingdom. The guy who runs it used to own a tiger’ or loaf of bread ‘the hilltop grows the grain, but Alexandria makes it.’ You would hum and nod along, knowing he was just trying to convince you to come back. Mainly because he’d ask if you wanted to come back with him and you would be ‘grateful but happy where you are’

You had asked him to start making lists so you knew what to find and you always tried your best to deliver. Cloths, blankets, kitchen utensils, baby bottles-

“Baby bottles?” you asked, pointing at the item on the list. He nodded.

“John and his wife are pregnant and we don’t have enough to go around.” He explained from the comfort of your couch, feet up on the table.

“But you have some?” you continued, not believing what you were hearing “You have...children? As in...babies?”

“Yea. I keep telling you we’re building a society.” he laughed at your bewilderment. “You’d fit in gr-” your mind ran as what you knew was coming ‘Here it comes again. No never works with these people. How do I get him to shut up?’

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you cut him off, smiling. You turned to your kitchen unit, pulling out a large bot, a can of vegetable soup, and salted beef that Daryl had brought that day. “You’ve brought me so much it’ll probably go bad before I can eat it all.”

In that time he had stood up and walked over to the kitchen, now leaning on the counter. His sudden appearance made you hold your breath “When did ‘get out’ become ‘stay for dinner’?” he asked, seemingly amused.

“When you stopped understanding what ‘I don’t wanna be part of your group’ meant.” You retorted, cutting up the salted beef with a dedicated kitchen knife. “Are you staying or not?” you turned to him, stopping your cuts for the moment. He nodded with a shallow ‘yeah’, making you smile then go back to cutting. You poured the meat and soup into the pot, placing the lid on top. “Some snow on top to water it down and we’ll be sleeping with full stomachs tonight.”

You had him carry some bowls and a ladle up to the roof. Within an hour the fire outside was lit and the food was cooked atop four bricks you were lucky enough to be able to upgrade your cooking fire with, the old lamp now repurposed into a weapon. There was no conversation but you didn’t feel like you needed it. The wind was calm, letting Daryl look out over the city. “Do you know where the museum is?” He asked while you were stirring the soup.

“A couple of blocks down,” you called back. “Why?”

“Me and a few others are planning on raiding it in the summer” he answered, not turning back to you.

That’s when you realised something. You had heard about all these friends. Carol, Michone, Saddiq, Rosita, Eugene, Henry, Ezekiel, Lauren. He’d mentioned them in passing, saying how they made something he brought you or appreciated something you brought him. Yet he always came alone. It would’ve made more sense if Rick was doing these deliveries, you’d met him before the winter. Sure you stitched up his leg.

The two of you were sitting in front of the fire as it fizzled out when curiosity got the better of you. You swallowed the food in your mouth.

“Why are you always here alone?” you asked, he looked up at you from the other side of the fire. “It makes more sense to have people watching your back but for the past month or so you’ve been visiting me on your own. Why?”

“That’s how it is” he scoffed between mouthfuls.

“That’s how what is?” you snapped.

“You’re allowed to be all secretive but I’m meant to have my cards on the table.” he cut back. You thought it over a second, then went back to eating. You both finished up as the fire mellowed, taking your leave back inside. You carried the pot while he held the bowls. Back in your unit, you piled the dishes into the sink.

“I should get going,” he said, going to pick up his back.

“Y/N!” you nearly yelled. “My name is Y/N,” He looked back at you incredulously. A tense silence fell over you both “Before this,” you waved your hand to motion to the apartment “I was with a few people...including my father. We managed to secure a building, kept the walkers out but after some time new people arrived and a few of them got...Protective, I guess. Including my old man.” You crossed your arms and leant against the sink, the floor now far more interesting than the man in your apartment. “People died keeping me safe when they didn’t need to, all ‘cause my old man refused to let me help, but we were still bringing in new people but not everyone was helping, either cause they weren’t allowed to or didn’t want to. That caused anger to boil in the group and then...more people died.” Thinking back on the Sanctuary tears began to flow, but your voice didn’t shake and your body stayed firm. “I ran away and I’ve been hiding ever since ‘cause I know they’ll kill me if I’m found.” You finally looked back at Daryl who had been hanging on to your every word. You wiped away your tears. “You said I can’t be secretive, well there it is.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You don’t wanna go home” you cut him off. “You don’t like where you rest your head, that’s why you’ve been spending more and more time out here with me. I get it.” you pushed off the sink, leaning under it to pick up a jug of water to do the dishes with. “You can leave or you can stay the night. I don’t mind.”

You turned your back on him to focus on the dishes. He picked up his things and left without another word. ‘That’s it’ you thought as you scrubbed the pot, now getting more aggressive with it, ‘you fucked up Y/N.’

The following morning you woke up, opened your bedroom door, and saw a familiar red-neck on your couch. You couldn’t stop the smile that plastered your face, but you did grab some clothes from your closet then went back to your room to dress. This time when you left he was up. “‘Morning” he croaked as he stretched. “This couch was a lot comfier the first time.”

Your relationship continued like that for the next while. He’d visit you more regularly, stay for dinner, and usually, he’d stay for the night. You got tired of the complaints about the couch and cleared out the second bedroom. You liked having him visit and were willing to facilitate it. He’d even begun leaving a few things there. Functional stuff like arrows for his bow and fuel for his bike. You found him some clothes and extra blankets, and a bigger bag to carry stuff home.

You didn’t ask why he didn’t want to be with his people. After keeping everything a secret for so long it didn’t feel right, but you could guess. Between your family and your time in the army, you had developed a skill in reading people, a skill you noticed he also had. Maybe that’s why every second didn’t need to be filled with conversation. Though you wish it was so you could know more. He was kind, there was no question of that with everything he did for you without even knowing your name. Though when he came to your apartment he was tense, and he was never happy to leave. This made you think he was going somewhere he didn’t want to be, but he had to be. He always talked so highly of the settlements, trying to get you back there. He must be going someplace else.

The winter passed, your garden began to flourish again, and the walkers thawed. You thought after the winter Daryl would stop visiting but he still showed up. He didn’t come as often for a time, saying he wasn’t gonna make the trip unless he had enough to offer you. You frowned at this “Do come out” you ordered him. “You’ve got people relying on you. Children and everything and I’m able to find stuff in the city you need.”

“I don’t wanna leave you short. Our deal ya know-”

“Screw the deal, Daryl.” you huffed “You’re my friend and I wanna help you”

“Oh we’re friends?” he commented, with a cheeky smirk “Didn’t you try to kill Rick.”

‘So Tara told them’ you thought. “Yes,” you said “In a friendly way.” normally he wouldn’t find that funny, but these past few weeks escaping away to your hide-out had given him a chance to get close to you. “Come and visit me when you can, please? I got nobody else to steal my food.” That afternoon you both search for some last pieces for Daryl, having to go deeper and deeper into the city. You talked about his group’s plan to go to the museum and raid it for seeds and old machinery. You saw first-hand what a crack-shot he was with his crossbow, you whistled as another went down “Not bad bow-boy. How’d you get so good with that?”

“Before all this” you started, walking ahead to pull the arrow out of the dead one. “Me and my brother, Merle, used to move around a lot. We used to hunt sometimes for sport, sometimes for food, but he’d always make it a competition. Decided to learn a quieter weapon so I could beat that son of a bitch.” Another two walkers approached as he spoke. He shot a bolt through one of them while you took the other down with your knife. “After that, he never helped hunting again”

“Sounds like a sore loser” you commented, pulling the arrow out of the walker's head and handing it back to Daryl. He took it and reloaded the bow.

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nah” you shook your head, keeping a lookout while he reloaded. “My old man said I was a miracle baby. Mom was always sick. They thought they’d never have any. I used to hate it but after hearing how Merle left you in a cell while he ran off with your girl, I’m glad.”

“Ahh, he wasn't all that bad,” he commented, walking alongside you.

“No one is as bad as they seem when you know them. At least that’s what my superior officer said”

That evening he couldn’t stay, but he left with a heavy bag and that made you happy. As the evening descended you went back to your unit. The following week would be quiet since Daryl had his big raid coming up. Though you didn’t realise how quiet until you were in the midst of it.

You had scavenged a few things. At this stage, the apartment building had been picked dry but you had a few children’s cloths and some old bandages from first-aid kits that had seen better days. As usual, you had piled everything in Daryl’s room. As usual, you were reading another book. As usual, it failed to entertain you since you’d read it about three times now. As usual, you fell asleep on the couch, not completely though because you heard the front door open.

You sat up sharply. “Dary-”

Thwack

~ Tag List ~

@softsebastian​

[fangirl-1523]

How Carl Should Have Died [Carl Grimes x Reader]

You had always been a hopeful person. Especially after everything that's happened in the past three years. You see you met a boy with brown hair and blue eyes who always wore plaid flannel and a "cowboy" sheriff hat on top of his head. Now, in the zombie apocalypse, there were two things you can do: live or die. You, obviously, picked to live.

The boy you met at Alexandria was somewhat cold, but deep down, he was also really sweet. You had developed a crush on him, but you had noticed how he had looked at Enid, so you decided to back off of him. However, Enid had liked your brother, and they went out for a year, broke up, and now, they were fighting for their lives. The same could be said about you and Carl. Well, besides the part of being together.

You had been with him when Abraham Ford and Glenn Rhee died. You were right next to him looking around at the tear- stained faces before giving the man named, Negan, a menacing glare. Negan instantly took a liking to you, and Carl, oblivious to you, hated that. Now, you were stuck in this predicament.

You were lost in the woods unable to find everyone else. Alexandria was in flames, and all you had was a machete, a bow, a quiver of only two arrows, and a handgun. Your mission was to get to the people you called family. You stumbled around sesrching only using your machete once or twice. Eventually, you felt hands on your shoulders and you whipped around to see Michone and Rick.

"[Y/N]! Where have you been? We have to get to the sewers!" Michone exclaimed.

"The sewers?" You asked her.

Michone nodded while Rick and yourself looked at her confused. She was the only one to know about your feelings to the ageless teenager who created this plan. Rick, on the other hand, was the only one to know of his son's feelings for you. To everyone else, the feelings were extremely obvious, but the two of you were oblivious to each other's affections.

"That's where Rosita, Daryl, and Carl put the Alexandria! We have to get out of here before..." Michone wasn't able to finish when the trio had become surrounded.

You whipped around to see a savior you didn't know and everyone was pointing weapons at the three of you. You saw Rick grab Michone's wrist, and you felt Michone's hand on yours. They had rounded you up and your guess was the other Alexandrians including your family.

"We're here to bring you to the center of your broken civilization." The man who seemed to be in charge told you.

He kept looking you up and down, and you growled at him. He stopped, smirked, and led you to the center of the ground. Everyone was in the center of the street, and you immediately spotted Carl with his hat on the ground next to him. You spotted Negan and he chuckled. The three of you were placed on the ground and you, coincidently, were situated right next to Carl. Michone and Rick were across from you.

"I was wondering when you three would get here." Negan motioned to you, Rick, and Michone before addressing everyone else. "You have damaged the order that we've created for your own personal survival! Don't you see how you inflicted anarchy on us?"

"The Mad Hatter is only mad as his queen is only headless." You mumbled to himself.

It didn't seem like Negan heard you which was a good thing, but he kept eyeing you out of the corner of his eye. It made the hair on the back of your neck stick up. Carl noticed your discomfort and reached for your hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

"Well, your punishment is one person will for tonight!" Negan declared.

You gulped and looked at the ground. He didn't do the eeny meany miney moe thing again. He just turned to you, but you didn't notice it until Carl held a death grip on your hand. From this action, you could tell that it was either Michone, his father, or you. You looked up at Negan. Now, that you weren't trembling in fear, you realized how alike Negan and someone you used to know were.

"You're really going with that bullshit! If your order was stronger and wasn't at weak, we wouldn't be in this predicament! You should have been a better leader if you didn't want this to happen. People don't follow out of fear! They follow who they think is right. Who isn't both tactically right, but isn't immoral in the way they do things." You weren't afraid anymore.

Your bravery and sudden stroke of courage brought these words flowing out of your mouth. It was like your mouth was a waterfall and the words was the water falling over the side. When you weren't afraid, you spoke whatever was on your mind no matter if it got you killed.

"And when I look at you, Negan, I see someone who both lacks morality and tacticality. You are just like... like..." The realization hit you right then.

He acted just like him. He even looked a little like him, but the similarity was uncanny without his beard. You had lost your grip on bravery, courage, and freedom. Negan just laughed at you and you could have sworn that Carl's face, for the first time, had gotten a frightened expression.

"So, if you're going to kill me, Negan, then do it. I don't care anymore. Just be warned that it'll backfire on you." You told him.

Negan took your words to heart and raised his Lucille. "She gave me her consent, so it'll have to do."

Rick watched in horror as his son's face changed to a look of heartbreak, fear, and sadness all wrapped up in one. His horror turned to sadness with what Carl said next.

"Wait!" Carl shouted.

Negan stopped before he looked at Carl Grimes and you looked at the boy who had been your best friend. He let go of your hand and let his rest by his side. He took a deep breath bow knowing what he had to do to save you.

"Kill me." You heard a cry of despair and you couldn't quite tell if it was Rick's or your own.

"Carl?" Your eyes started to water up. You were going to cry in front of all of these people.

Negan smirked and swung his bat. You screamed seeing the bat collide with his head. His once beautiful brown hair was covered in blood. Blood trickled down his forehead and down to his chin. Everyone was crying, but you could tell Rick and Michone were the ones you could most definitely hear. Carl looked at you.

"[Y-]." He made out before another bay slammed into his head.

He was on the ground now. "Love.... you." You cried and cried, screamed and screamed, and broke and broke.

He was trying to say "I Love You" in his finally moments. Negan kept whacking him until essence of Carl's brain was on the bat.Negan walked back to the center.

"That's what happens to those who misbehave. Your people get the blow before you do." Negan and his saviors walked away.

You knew Michone had to drag Rick away, but you couldn't move. You stayed by his side and cried silently to yourself stroking what was left of his brown hair. He had tried to tell you how he felt, and you immediately felt stupid that you didn't notice when now you thought about it, it was as obvious as Mickey Mouse wearing red pants. You picked up his hat and held it in your hands.

"I still love you too!" You placed the hat on your head and walked away.

Every one please don't hate me, but I just got to this season's midseason finale! I was actual hoping that Carl would get Lucille instead of bitten, because dying of a bite means you died a lousy death (which Carl Grimes should never deserve). I had heard people say Carl was going to die, so I thought he would get Lucilled like he almost did in the season 7 season finale. So, this imagine was inspired by that hope I had in my head. I hope you like it!

[lolalexturnerlol]

Drifter (Negan x reader)

Lil somethin somethin kind of inspired by the song drifters by the delphines. I want to say there’s going to be two parts, but there could be three. Who knows. Certainly not me. 

Warnings: bit of angst, bit of fluff, swearing, depressed reader (there’s never any mention of the actual word, but there’s a lot of self deprecation and negativity) if any of this is a possible trigger for you, please proceed with caution. 

I’m a drifter, honey

i’m a tumbleweed tumblin’ from town to town

I ain’t got no home town just a town where I was born

I’ve been movin baby

Since my legs, they hit the ground

Until I hit the curb driving 105 and it shot my body down  

You tend to get cabin fever.

Not in the sense that you’re ever cooped up. You hate being indoors, you’re always outside and always going exactly where you want, whenever you want. It’s not like there had ever been anything holding you back. No, the cabin fever hits when you’ve been in one place for too long. It doesn’t feel right. You haven’t stayed in one place since you were eighteen and running from a bad home life and even worse boyfriend.

It might be boredom. Maybe it’s just the realisation that you’ve used up everything in a place. You know the people, the streets, the coffee shops and the train routes. Maybe it’s the crippling fear of having anyone too close that causes the itching in the balls of your feet and the impulse to pack your meagre belongings and get the hell out.

This town though - this town, smaller than any you’d been in -is different. And you can try to hide it, act like you have no idea why you feel the burning desire to stay just a week, a month more in this tiny town. But you know, that your whole reason for staying in a deadbeat town like West Elizabeth, Carolina, is in your kitchen in your floral dressing gown, gazing at an old Jamie Oliver cookbook through his black rimmed reading glasses.

“Y/n, y/n come in here.”

You walk into the kitchen, socks slipping against the polished hardwood. “What is it now?” you ask laughingly.

He throws the book down on the kitchen bench, grinning. “Oh, come on, I’m just trying to make you dinner for once. Not my fault this recipe is bullshit.”

With a giggle you move forward, tugging the spatula out of his hand and discarding it on the counter. "Forget dinner. Let’s just order pizza or something.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, his head dipping down to look at you. “Don’t like my cooking or something?” he chides.

“Just plenty fond of my kitchen being unsinged. Pizza. I’ll pay.”

The grin makes an appearance on his face, that charming, dimpled one he’d given you the very first time you’d met him. “Can never say no to you, can I?”

You pull away from him, jaw breaking laugh bubbling at your lips. “Pepperoni, yeah?”

“What else? I’ll choose the movie.”

A week used to feel like forever

Now it’s only 7 days I hate to bum the last one from you, friend

You know I’ll get you back when I come through again

“Hey, Carl.”

The teenager smiles, blushing a little at your attire. Or rather, lack of it. “Hey, y/n.”

“How’s your dad?” You ask, handing him a twenty dollar bill. “And Judith?”

You don’t stop to question what the fuck your doing. First name basis with the pizza boy and his family? Asking how his kid sister is? You don’t do that, it’s it far, far too personal.

“They’re both good.” He grins impishly, getting back on his bike. “Michonne’s been asking for you, wondering when you want your next kickboxing lesson.”

“Tell Michonne I’ll stop by tomorrow. Keep out of trouble, kid.”

“Always do, miss.” He yells as he pedals away.

Inside, Negan is stretched out on my little couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. He beams up at you as you walk in, chucking the pizza on the coffee table. “What are we watching?”

“Monty Python.”

You sit down on the couch, and he slings your legs over his, and once again, like always, you’re tangled up, head on his chest and his on top of yours. Your bodies are pressed against each other to stay on the couch. His thumb rubs absentminded circles in your thigh, and you can feel his body shake when he laughs.

You’re so used to this now. The cuddling, the affection. You haven’t cuddled in years, since your high school days. But with Negan, it doesn’t feel silly and forced, like it had back then. It feels correct. It just fits.

And it’s terrifying.

You push those thoughts from your head. You don’t need to deal with them. Not now. You don’t need to ruin this.

You feel his nose nudge at your neck, lips leaving trails and teeth nibbling little marks.

“Negan,” you laugh, hand on his chest, “we haven’t even started the pizza. Or the movie”  

“Forget the fucking pizza.” he growls, grabbing the slice of pizza from your hand and tossing it back  in the box. “And the movie.”

With a scorching kiss he throws you pins you onto the couch, body coming down to cover yours. And just like that, your previous thoughts are gone. Because the though of leaving always tends to disappear when Negan is around.

I’m just a drifter on the run I’m just a wagon wheel rollin’ on

Maybe someday I’ll unpack my bags and I’ll stay

But I’ll always see you when I come through that way

“You ever think about leaving?”

It’s a rainy day, overcast and drizzly. Negan’s 87 Chevy pickup is parked on the edge of a little sand dune, overlooking the stormy water. There’s a Bob Dylan record playing from the beat up sound system, a greasy brown paper bag filled with hot chips sitting on top of the front dash.

“Why, you thinkin’ about skippin’ town or soemthin?” His joking demeanour never drops. He shifts his arm a little bit, jostling my head tucked under him.

“No.” Liar. “I mean, It’s just - I don’t know, it’s a small town. Surely you’ve thought about getting out of here before.”

He’s silent, and you start to panic. Surely he hasn’t caught on to how you’re feeling. Surely he hasn’t cottoned on to your want, your need to get out of here. Surely -

“I have.” His answer interrupts my inner turmoil. “But I like it here. Been here for twenty years, don’t see much sense in moving on now.”

Maybe it’s the fact he’s so much older than you. Maybe it’s the fact that you’d never settled in your life. You were born into a shaky, semi-permanent life. How are you meant to settle when all you know how to do is move?

“Why are you asking me this, doll?”

And there it is, the million dollar question. “Been here for nearly a year.” You can’t look at him now, even though you can feel his eyes burning into you. “Haven’t stayed in a place longer than six months since I was eighteen. That’s ten years of moving around, Negan. I guess I’m just not used to this.”

He’s silent, and it scares you. He never moves his arm from around you though, never moves to push you off him. You finally look up at him, you have to know what he’s thinking.

You’re shocked at what you see. His eyes contain an ocean of tenderness and love, the smile on his face conveying what no words ever could.

“You’ve had it tough.” He tells you softly. “Must be hard to trust anything around you enough to stay.” He shakes his head, chuckles quietly. “But god damn do I feel honoured to be the the one you try with.”

Th thoughts come to me then, like they often do.

You don’t deserve him. You’re going to pull him down.

A week used to feel like forever

Now it’s only 7 days I hate to bum the last one from you, friend

You know I’ll get you back when I come through again

Your one year anniversary in West Elizabeth is a strange thing. Negan had everyone you knew gather at the diner in town - the very one you’d met him at a year ago today. Michonne is there, your kickboxing teacher and friend, with her partner Rick and his two, Judith and Michone. Maggie and Glenn are there with their newborn. Tara and Rosita, the girls you work with. Daryl, Negan’s best friend. There’s other people too, people from this little town that you’ve grown close to - something you’re not sure you’ve ever done in your life.

They all come, carrying smiles and bottles of alcohol and well wishes.

All it does is shock you.

You’ve become so attatched to these people. You can easily say you love a lot of them.

You love Negan.

“Y/n, you look so good tonight!”

You look up to see Maggie standing in front of you, Tara by her side. You give her your best winning smile, wrapping your arms around her in a hug. “What about you? You look fantastic.”

“Oh, please.” Maggie rolls her eyes, but she’s still grinning ear to ear. “I just had a baby.”

“Baby or not, you look beautiful.” You turn to Tara, unusually dolled up for the night. “And you, look at you. If I wasn’t taken I know who I’d be going home with.”

Tara laughs, giving my shoulder a shove. “Who says I’d go home with you, loser.”

You sit, and you eat dinner with the people who’ve come to mean something to you. And it’s so nice, joking and laughing with people who know you, care about you, and for an hour, maybe two, you let yourself slip into that familiarity, the warmth of it all.Because you know it on’t last long. 

And Negan, god, Negan. He sits by your side the whole night, hands linked, stealing chaste kisses whenever possible. You feel cherished, so absolutely loved.

And you want to bask in it. Let all of it in, let it seep into your blood and your whole body. But you know you don’t deserve it. You know that Negan, this sweet, caring, potty mouthed gentleman, is only wasting time with you around.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” There’s a smile on your face, and you feel happy. But it’s an empty feeling, like it’s covering up waves of other, deeper things. It makes you feel guilty. You don’t deserve to have that deep down happiness anyway. 

Negan brings your linked hands to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. “Of course I did. You deserve it.”

As nice as the sentiment is, you know it’s not true. 

People start to filter out, and eventually Negan calls it a night, dragging you with him out to the truck. In the chilly night air, he presses you up against the faded blue metal, grinning against your neck.

“Have a good night, baby?” He husks. 

“The best.” And it’s not a lie. It’s one of the best nights I’ve had in a very, very long time. You still feel heavy though. And no amount of good nights could change it.

He pulls away from your neck, tawny eyes gazing straight into yours, like they’re stripping you bare. “What are you thinking? You’ve got that tone in your voice. You wanna know something.”

I want to curse how well he knows me. I take a deep breath in. Let it out. In. Out.

“Do you ever think there’s more out there for you? I mean, I’m so much younger than you, did you ever think you’d end up with someone like me?”

My words spark that look on his face. The unbearably intense one that gives me chills, makes me feel like he can see right into the depths of my soul. “I’m lucky to have you.” He tells me lowly. “Ain’t a lot of good I’ve done in my life. But when I’m with you, none of that matters.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the noise of it drowning out everything else. You zero in on Negan’s face, his adoring expression, his loving eyes that normally make everything so much better. But tonight, all they do is unsettle you.

You don’t deserve him, y/n.

“Kiss me.” You breathe out. Because it’s all you can do right now. 

His lips are on yours. Warm, passionate, loving, soft. He’s all you could ever hope for. All you’ve ever wanted from anything in your life. But with that comes the fact that he’s everything you don’t deserve. You part from each other, breathless. 

He beams down at you, grabbing you by the waste for once last kiss. “Come on, let’s get you home. I’ve got a whole other celebration in mind.”

I’m a vagrant, darling I’m a castaway, a renegade, a vagabond

But you know that I ain’t too strong when it comes to leaving you behind

We had 40 oz. We had let it bleed and blonde on blonde

I’ll sit through one more song

Before it ends I’ll be gone

The next week is tense.

You want to act like Negan doesn’t realise the shift in you. But you know he’s not stupid. He knows, he’s sensed it. But he’s giving you space, like he always has. He’s thinking you’ll go to him when your ready, like you always have. But it won’t be like that this time. You don’t want to bother him anymore.

It’s like you’re moving in autopilot. Like you’re not even aware of what you’re doing. You don’t think about it. But in five days, all your belongings have been packed into the boot and backseats of your car, the little house you’d come to call home stripped bare.

You want to leave Negan a note. Explain everything as best you can. But you know that you shouldn’t. If you owe him anything, it’s a proper explanation, face to face. At the very least, you have to tell him in person.

You know this, and still, you can’t bring yourself to. So when you’ve finished packing the very last box, you send him a text. It’s three in the morning, so you know he won’t get it until he wakes up. By then you’ll be long gone.

I’m sorry, but I’m leaving. I love you, and I won’t drag you down.

You sit on the back porch, making your way through a pack of cigarettes, telling yourself this is what you need to do. Move on. You’ve done it plenty before. You can do it again.

Wandering through the house that has been your home for the last year, you run your hands over the kitchen counter. You’ll miss the cicadas, a noise you’d hated when you first arrived. You’ll miss the far off sound of the ocean, of waves crashing against rock. You’ll miss the sound of Negan’s breathing lulling you to sleep.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

Out of everything you might’ve been expecting to hear at that moment, the front door slamming open and Negan’s panicked voice calling out your name is the very last thing.

He runs into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when he sees you. Your heart falls to the floor at the look on his face. At the fact that he’s even there at all.

“Y/n? What’s going on? What was that text about? And where the fuck is all your stuff?!”

You feel tears spring at your eyes. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I’m leaving, Negan.”

He blinks, mouth popping open - then slamming shut. It might’ve been funny in any other situation.

“What in the fuck do you mean, you’re leaving?” He’s angry now. Hurt, confused. I want to take all that away from him, take away the space between us and fall into his arms.

But I won’t. I can’t.

“I mean I’m leaving Negan, what more do you want?”

“What more do I want?” he splutters incredulously. “ An explanation would be really fucking nice. You can’t leave because your scared y/n! Don’t let go of this just because you won’t grow some balls and face up to your fucking issues!” There’s a vein popping out of his forehead, a fire in his eyes that I haven’t seen before. This isn’t the two in the morning, quiet kisses fire I’d grown to know. This is anger, pure and terrifying.

The tears have fallen now, marking their way down my cheeks. “There’s nothing you can do, Negan. I’ve made my mind up. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“Deal with it? Deal with it?! Are you fucking serious, y/n? I love you, I love you so fucking much, and all I get is ‘deal with it’?”

I snap now. I don’t want to deal with this anymore. I didn’t want to hurt him. That’s the last thing I wanted. But this is the only way he’ll understand.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Negan? Hasn’t it gone through your thick fucking scull. I refuse to stay here and drag you down. I won’t fucking do it. I’m leaving. And that’s it.”

You’ve never regretted anything in your life. Not leaving running away from home. Not leaving a single place since then. But there’s something now that you’ve never felt before, deep down in your heart, dragging all the way down to your stomach. You try to ignore it, as you walk out of those doors and down the steps, even as you cross the border into Georgia, the boot filled with your belongings. But the guilt is eating you away, the sadness causing you to pull over more than once.

But you don’t stop. You won’t. Because you’ve down the right thing. You have to have done the right thing. And if that means you never see the man you love again, then so be it.

A day used to feel like a lifetime

Now it’s no different than the rest I’ll just roll on roll on from town to town

Until I’m six feet underground  

I don’t even know if this even makes any sense at all rip me

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