ELEANOR . NEGAN

092.

"Are you coming in?"

Negan had to knock himself out from his deep thoughts as he looked over to Eleanor. A mischievous glint on her face as she kicked off her converse and dropped her jacket to the floor. "I'm fine observing, Sunshine." He leant back with a pleased groan. "Real fine."

She scoffed, "Perv."

He just mimicked her words before he shielded his face from the sun to get a proper good look at her. She was tugging that tight maroon henley shirt over her head as she slowly undid her buttons. She wasn't facing Negan anymore but he didn't look away. Why would he? How her arms twisted under the sun to slide down her jeans, how her back muscles contracted like a Greek ceramic statue — he couldn't get enough.

Before she even tiptoed into the water, she bunched up her hair on the top of her head and clicked her neck slightly. Her hips moved as she walked, her back dimples prominent and proud, tattoos wrapping themselves around her skin. Even her scars from the Reapers, and just surviving really, made him twitch. How she didn't have a single care about these prolific things because why would she? Eleanor was a goddess he wanted to worship.

Her body was delicate yet strong, her hands reached out as she slowly dived forwards once deep enough in the water. She made sure not to get her hair wet — to not get a fucking cold — as she scrubbed the skin around her neck and down her chest.

"Fucking hell," He said aloud. Although he didn't mean to. Eleanor clearly didn't expect it because she turned around with flushed cheeks and crinkled eyes. "Sorry, doll. Go back to whatever you were doing."

She let out a snicker before turning back around and washing her face. Rubbing away the small splashes of dirt along her skin, careful of her new accessory on her cheek. Then she dragged her hands along her torso, around her curves and the swell of her thighs. It was sensual, that's what he thought. In reality? Eleanor was just cleaning herself up.

Not. My. Fault.

Once clean, she started to swim pack to the edge of the pond with a small smile. She could deal with being dirty, everyone could after God said fuck you, but when there's a chance of being rid of that? Then you take it.

"God, Sunshine." Elle instantly rolled her eyes, here it comes. "You're gonna give me a heart attack."

"Grow a backbone, Nelly." She reached over to for her camo bag, not without Negan grabbing her thigh of course but whatever. She pulled out a small blanket and dabbed herself dry before wrapping it around her shoulders. "Seriously."

He whined, "I can't help it, Sunshine. How many Goddamn times do I have to say that?"

She hummed as she sat opposite of Negan on her feet. "You just have problems."

"Yeah, a real hard problem-"

"Ych-a-fi!" She spat, although she was far from uncomfortable. If anything it just made her laugh, which made him grin. It was a whole process; clearly. Once they were both consumed in small chuckles and quiet laughter, she trudged forward slightly until she was close enough for Negan to rest his hands on her hips.

It was extremely quick, how his hands that squeezed the flesh on her hips pulled her close until she was planted across his lap. The blanket dipped down to her thighs, her breasts pressed right against him. "Fuck, doll." He dipped forward, hungry against her skin as he sucked and nipped at the plushness of her chest.

"Negan," She breathed. Her nails were already scratching his scalp, carding through soft hair that's grown over the time. The more he kissed her, the more the need of pure pleasure rushed over the pair. It got to the point where Negan had her pressed down on the floor as he sucked and run his tongue along the skin of her stomach.