Negan Drabbles / Short Stories

Is that my shirt?

A little bit more smut. Around 500 words. I think I might do a kinda prequel to this.......if anyone likes it that is 🤷‍♀️

"Oh, god! Shit! Don't stop. Ah, fuck! Negan! I'm gonna come!" His face was buried between your thighs, as two of his long, nimble fingers curled inside you. Fucking you, in the way that only Negan's fingers could. As his tongue flicked over your clit again, you screamed his name and grabbed onto the back of his head. Grinding your throbbing cunt into him, letting him suck and nip until your orgasm left you limp.

He slowly removed his fingers, as he rose up and kissed you with enough passion you could already feel another tingle starting to grow. Reaching up you ran your hands through his chest hair, pulling him as close as possible and biting on his soft bottom lip. Growling, he reached down between the two of you and guided his cock to your soaked heat.

"Fuck, baby. How can you still be so tight after all that?! I swear, your pussy is like fucking magic. I could stay in here all day sweetheart. In fact, maybe I will!"

Just as Negan filled you to the hilt, you heard your husband's car pulling into the driveway. No!

"Shhhhhhhhh. Aaahhh. Fuck. Negan, shhhh. Eugene is home! You need to get dressed!"

"What the fuck?! I'm hard as a fucking rock in here! You might need to come over later, and sort out these fucking blue balls I'm gonna be stuck with!"

"Ha! Not much chance of that!" You smiled, wishing there was a way you'd be able to sneak over to Negan's later on. "But hurry up! He's outside!"

"It's okay baby. We're good. He's a slow ass fucker. Every time I see him get home, he sits in that car for fucking ages. Probably combing his fucking mullet for you!

"Fuck! Where's my fucking shirt?! I don't think we'd made it past the kitchen when that came off! Shit! Pass me one of those shirts from the closet. Quick!"

"Pretend you've been in the bathroom," you whisper shouted as you launched a shirt across the room at him. "I'll slow him down at the door!"

As you neared the bottom of the stairs you could hear that the car engine was still running. Oh thank fuck for that. Maybe he's on the phone or something.

Noticing Negan's shirt, draped across the kitchen worktop, you grabbed it, and stuffed it in the washing machine, then looked up to see Eugene's head bobbing past the window.

He opened the front door, just as Negan reached the bottom of the stairs, wearing what you now realised was one of Eugene's favourite shirts. Crap.

As Eugene looked Negan up and down with a slightly puzzled look on his face, you became acutely aware that you hadn't put your underwear back on. You were stood, wearing leggings with no panties and a long, white, oversized shirt without a bra. Shit.

Negan's face wore his usual cocky expression, as Eugene clearly realised what had been bothering him.

"Is that my shirt?"

Shit.