Tumblr transfers
These were 11mo old at the time that I plopped them over here. So some of these, more or less, were incorporated into the story.
Rachelle has him separated, pulled aside and they're quickly slipping out of Lauren's view. Behind the pit, in the intricate tunnels and past occupied doorways, she tugs him until he laughs and pulls her to a stop. She's tall and sturdy, older and by far more experienced, all things that could make for a memorable fuck. But he knows where the cameras are and that shakes him from his hormones. Now he feels ridiculous, waves to who ever is on duty and excuses himself, not so politely, from an unintentional sextape. Lauren is just at the mouth of the tunnels when Four comes out laughing and Rachelle complaining.
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"You are never drinking again!" She yelled, dropping him into his shower with a huff. He protests, weakly, before he vomits, again, and the cold water hits him. She peels off his shirt but doesn't bother with his pants. Just let's him cool off before turning the water off and rolling him onto his side.
"God, you asshole." She kicks the back of his thigh and helps herself to a beer from his fridge.
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Zeke's at the fence and as part of their agreement, he checks on Shauna everyday. Its awkward. She addresses him shortly and with suspicion. But after six days of putting up with her as cheerfully as he can she finally has a request of him. The sun is out and its warm. All she wants is to go outside, sit on the fresh green grass and not feel like a prisoner. But there are stairs everywhere. He has no where to be, he might as well play soccer on the field outside. Its a win-win.
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Joining the Pedrads has more conditions than Dauntless. Sunday dinners, birthdays, moving furniture, drinking almost every night. Its not until a month in that Zeke let's him know that its OK to say no. Being family means being asked, not being required to always say yes. Its pure relief, and finally he hits his pillow at a reasonable time.
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It takes a while to get her to relax, allow him to move around her and sit with her between his legs. He gives her shoulders the lightest touch, letting time not pressure soothe her aches. Then moving to her shoulders and down her back, around to the tops of her thighs. His lips are on her neck, he can feel the flush spread under her skin. She arches back when he grips her hamstring. He's not as smooth as he wants to be unbuttoning her pants, but she doesn't stop him. She seemingly prepares herself, panting heavy and stretching up her torso. He wished he knew what to do, the awkward searching bringing a giggle to her lips and her hand to his wrist.
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Tiny fists pounded against the inside of her left temple. Scratches blistered into sores from the back of her tongue all the way to the base of her throat. Sleep came fitfully an hour or two at a time before she hacked up mucus that drowned her lungs. As disoriented as she was, she knew it was too early to hear the shuffle of feet and the bang of pots. Someone broke in to make her soup.