enjoy the fluff/smut ahead! thank you for your support <3
Sweat dripped down your back, leaving your already too tight shirt sticking to your skin. You inhaled and exhaled with urgency, trying to fill and empty your lungs at a rate that was inhuman.
"Stop." A loud, powerful voice called out into the room. The sound of your feet hitting the concrete slowed to a standstill, the sounds of weights hitting the floor echoed. You turned to face the source of the voice, your trainer, feared Dauntless leader Eric. Despite his, admittedly well deserved, reputation, your legs grew weak at his appearance. His muscles screamed to be freed from his clothing. His leadership tattoos taunting you to pull down his shirt collar and take them in completely. His jaw, chiseled like the rest of him, held a day's worth of scruff, something that you could have begged to feel against your skin.
"Are you deaf, initiate?" He directed at you, breaking your near ravenous thoughts.
"No." You caught yourself from saying more, knowing that more of a response would only cause problems.
"That's it," he began. "Everyone take an extended lunch, you stay with me." He said looking in your direction. With his command the other initiates who were in the room gratefully filled out, only your friend Amanda pausing to send a look of worry at you before leaving as well.
"Since you can't seem to focus long enough to take orders, I'm taking the liberty of giving you some... hands-on training." He notes, his always present smirk in full effect.
"Eric, I really didn't me-" You stumbled through your sentence.
"What did you just call me?" Your cheeks blushed red and your eyes turned to the floor. You prayed for it to swallow you whole. When you took too long to respond he repeated his question, his body, which had moved closer to you than when he first addressed you, now was less than a foot away.
"Sorry, sir." You stressed this new title.
"What makes you think you can call me Eric?" He questioned. You could imagine his head tilting, the way it did when he seemed to be stalking his prey.
"I- I'm not sure. It just slipped out... Sir." Your eyes still studied the floor, watching as his boots slowly inched closer to yours.
"Are we friends?" He questioned. The accusation in his tone made your stomach sink.
"No, sir. We are not." Your heart pounded in your chest. Its persistent rhythm was the only thing that tied you to this moment. His boots touched yours now, your bodies being mere inches from touching. If either of you swayed in the slightest...
"Are we lovers?" His voice was only a whisper now.
Your head snapped up, making eye contact with him in an instant. In your shock you took a step into him, your breast now rubbing against his chest, a feeling you were hyper-aware of.
"No, sir." Your response was but a whisper as well, his eyes darkening at his honorary title.
"Then you have no right to say my name, Y/N." He placed a hand on your chin, its gentle pressure making your senses fire on all cylinders. "If you're not moaning it from pleasure, I don't want to hear it cross your lips." His fingers move from their place along your jaw to your lips, his thumb running across the soft skin. It was only reflex that caused your tongue to dart to it, taking it gently into your mouth.
"You don't want to continue what you're doing." He begins, his voice having become deeper in the seconds that had passed. "I won't be gentle. Or considerate."
In the grueling past weeks of training you had often questioned why you had chose Dauntless, the faction of the brave, when you often felt so weak. In this moment you understood why.
"We still have an hour before the others come back, sir."
let me know what you guys think! should i continue this further? :)
"Okay so what do you want to do?" He asks, eyes meeting mine in the hazy light of the sunset. His curtains open to the otherwise dark room, his fourth floor view one to envy.
A nervous laugh falls from my lips, my eyes falling to his bare chest. "I don't know, I've never done anything like this before."
"Well that much is obvious," he smirks. As I start to snap back at him his hand finds it's way to my hip, pulling me forward onto his lap. The satin fabric of his sheets brush my skin through the rips in my jeans.
"How do you feel about this?" He asks me, his voice lowered now that I'm pressed against him. My legs find their place on either side of his, my hands dangle at my sides.
Through a shaky breath I reply, "I like it."
He nods, that smirk still on his lips. "You can touch me, you know?" I stare down at my floating hands, then his chest. I let them find their way to his body, the tips of my fingers entwining in his patch of chest hair, the skin underneath is warm.
"That's better." He replies.
"Tell me what to do." My hands shake slightly as I speak, needing some kind of instruction.
"Ah, ah, ah. This was your idea, remember? You get to make the calls here."
My breath shakes in my chest, my eyes stuck on the thick black blocks of tattoo that rise up his neck.
"Okay." I get out, the word rushed and in no way as confident as I would like it to sound.
My hand moves with a mind of its own, my fingertips brushing over the slight scruff that decorates his jaw. I let my eyes meet his and I'm granted a wave of heat over my body at the look he gives me. His pupils have overtaken the normally stark grey irises, leaving him to stare at me like a predator does to prey. My fingers' movements pause; concern briefly flashes across his features.
"You good?"
God, even his voice has become darker.
"Yeah, yeah..." I wobble through the sentence. "Well, no." His hands leave my waist with the release of that single word, making a cold chill run up my back at the loss of warmth.
"Wait," I use my hands to guide his back to their original place, making eye contact yet again. "I still want to do this, I just really need some instruction here."
The cocky grin on his face nearly makes me lose it as he speaks, "Alright, but tell me to stop if it gets too much for you."
Before I can reply his lips are connected to mine, all brain process lost to his movements. His hands run over my hips, one settling in my back pocket, the other at my waistline. A gentle push has me meeting his lap fully, making my hips buck instinctively.
A sigh comes from his lips and my cheeks are set aflame.
He bites my bottom lip lightly, making me gasp and granting him full access to my mouth. His tongue is warm as it slides around my mouth making me pout when he pulls away.
"Why did you-" I'm cut off when his lips touch my neck. They work their way down, gently nipping and licking as he goes.
Goosebumps follow the path his hands make beneath my shirt, getting closer and closer to my peaked nipples all while his lips never leave my neck and jaw. He cups me in his palm, a finger passing over the bud, making me moan.
"No bra, huh?" He taunts, his voice husky.
"Shut up." I manage to gasp out.
His hands continue along their path, his thumb continuing to tease me. My head tilts back and my eyes shut slightly, my breath coming out in sighs.
Before I know what I'm doing I push myself against him, rocking back and forth, searching for any kind of friction.
He groans and my stomach flips.
His fingers grasp the bottom of my shirt, "Off." I let him take it over my head, arms raised.
For a moment he sits there, staring at me and I can't help but feel the urge to cover up, my hands leaving his body to shield myself from his view.
He shakes his head, "Don't, you look good."
Placing my hands back on his chest for me, he leans in slowly, letting his lips gently glide over my neck. He makes his way down to my breasts, nipping and sucking at the raised flesh. A moan escapes me at his ministrations. My back arches in response.
Before I realize what's happening i'm being flipped onto my back, Eric laying over me.
His eyes lock on mine for a moment and the sheer lust in the stare almost breaks me. His lips trail down my body, occasionally biting at the sensitive skin, only to run a soothing tongue over the area before continuing.
My hands grip the sheets above my head, holding me to reality.
"Lift your legs up," his voice is so gravelly it shocks me but I do as he says, my hips rising as the jeans I didn't even realize were unbuttoned are slid from my body. I lay there, naked besides the small piece of fabric I somehow call underwear. His gaze makes me miss the feeling of his lips on my breasts.
"What are you waiting for?" I mean to taunt, the infliction is all off however thanks to a new rasp in my voice I've never heard before.
He lets out a small chuckle. "Easy there, Stiff or I might start to think you're a Dauntless."
I raise myself onto my elbows, staring forward to the man seated between my legs.
"I am Dauntless." I say but it doesn't seem to convince him.
He raises his eyebrows as if referencing the clear "Stiff" behavior I had moments before. How this entire time I've yet to do more than lay there and moan.
Fine, two can play at that game.
I fully stand from the bed, and turn to face him. Trying my best to ignore my nakedness, I come close to his face, placing hands on his shoulders.
"Lay down." I command, not sure how I manage to pull off the air of confidence.
He seems surprised but does as I say, moving further onto the bed, his head resting at the headboard.
I trail my hands down his body, starting at his neck. Leaning forward I let my tongue follow the path my hand takes, tracing over his skin.
A sigh vaguely resembling my name comes from his lips and it only spurs me on.
His skin tastes slightly salty and I can't get enough. Without thinking I let my hand travel past his navel, my fingers sweeping over his waistband. I run my nails gently over the exposed skin, making his hips buck. I smirk in satisfaction.
"Quit playing." He groans, eyes set intensely on mine.
"Be patient." I retort, not giving him time to snap at me again as I let my hand fully dip beneath his sweatpants and boxers. The skin I'm met with is softer than any other on his body and I can't stop myself from gliding my fingertips over it multiple times.
I wrap my hand around his length, new to the experience but trying to remember the advice I was given by my friends through the years. Twisting my wrist slightly with each rise and fall, I sit in awe at the sounds that come from Eric's mouth.
Just as I feel his body tensing beneath my hand, I let go. Attempting to make quick work, I move to pull off his remaining clothing but find it impossible with a his unrelenting weight bearing down on one side of it.
I give him a look at my predicament and he moves to rise from the bed, playfully pinching my exposed nipple in the process. He chuckles at my uncontrollable moan.
I watch as he stands in front of me, finding myself on my knees before him, a faint scratch of fabric against my shins. His eyes stare down at me as he slowly removes his last articles of clothing, his entire being nude for me to observe. Its impressive, though I'd be damned before I admit that to him.
"Well?" He taunts, seeing as though I'm at a loss for words.
His cock stands at attention directly in front of my face, larger than I ever realized it was. Gripping him in my hand again, I take my time deciding to taste him. My tongue darting out to lick from his base to the tip, letting my entire mouth encircle him when I reach the end.
His hips buck slightly, a hand coming down to grip the back of my head, tangling in my hair. A moan escapes him and it shoots right to my core, burning me up.
Just as I'm about to take him fully, he pulls my head away from him, a pop sounding at the release of my lips from him. Faster than I though was possible, I'm being pushed onto my back, hands tearing at my last scrap of clothing, my underwear being thrown off to the side.
"My turn," he practically growls. I stare at him, body practically pulsating with need and lust. His callused hands grips my knees, making my legs bend and then spread, exposing myself to him fully. He gives my body a long, hungered look before leaning down. He starts at my thighs, kissing and biting them to the point that I feel like I could combust.
"Quit playing," I say, a mirror to what he said moments ago. I feel more than see his smirk as he at last stops the assault, and begins a new one. When his tongue touches me my eyes roll into the back of my head, a moan that just might be his name rasping out of me. In all my years I never knew it could feel this good.
He goes to work on me, lips sucking at my clit, tongue flicking against it. My back arches and my hands search for something, anything, to grab on to. One finds its way into his hair, the other the sheets beneath us.
"Fuck Eric, don't stop," I gasp. My body starts to tense and I know what's coming.
Eric seems to too, as he replaces his mouth with his hand, moving against me in ways I know I'll crave for the rest of my life. His eyes meet mine while he sucks on the skin around my sensitive area. I can barely see him through the building haze.
"That's it," he says, voice deep and powerful, the voice of a leader. "Cum for me like a good girl."
And with that, I do.
My vision falters and if I didn't know any better I would dare to say I passed out for a moment. My legs shake in satisfaction and I can't help but stare in awe at the man that is still between my legs.
"Come here," I nearly growl. With a hand on his jaw I taste myself on his lips, letting my fingers drift around his torso. He groans as I reach the deep V his muscles make at his waist.
"Are you sure about this?" He asks, hand reaching back down to rub against my folds, making my hips buck uncontrollably.
I'm nodding long before I can gather enough breath to answer.
"Yes," I plead. "Please, Eric."
He kisses me again, softer than before, but still with a hunger I didn't think was possible. I feel him shift against me and where his fingers - and mouth - were moments earlier the pressure of his head rests. A hand holding himself, I watch as he guides his dick to rub my clit. A similar heat builds inside of me again and I let out a sigh.
"You like that?" He questions.
I'm about to reply when his thumb replaces his member and I sense a deep pressure begin. With a gentleness I didn't know the feared leader could have, he enters me, leaving me feeling full beyond thought.
His hips begin to move, slow and deliberate, thumb moving in time.
"Oh, God." I gasp, hips pushing to meet his. A different kind of pleasure takes over and I fade in and out of reality for a moment.
"Such a dirt girl," He comments. He thrusts into me, hand reaching up to pinch my peaked nipple. "No wonder you left Abnegation. Imagine what they would think of you now, being a little slut for me."
My cheeks burn with his words but a sense of euphoria rushes through me at his degradation and praise.
He's mid movement when he flips us over, never disconnecting from me. I sit above him, his back fully against the bed, my knees digging into the sheets. He grips the back of my neck, pulling my hair slightly as he forces me down to his level, his eyes on mine.
"Now, ride me." He releases his grip on me, but quickly relocates it on my hips. I rise from my position, letting myself bounce on his cock, hearing the sounds our bodies make as they slaps together.
My hand drifts to his throat, simply resting there, feeling the fast pulse beneath the skin. I let my back arch, knowing full well that my breasts are directly over his face and feeling empowered by it.
My thrusts quickly get erratic and I can feel him begin to tense beneath me.
"I'm getting close," I practically moan, my legs shaking again. With that, his hand finds its way back to my clit, his callused fingers teasing the bundle of nerves.
"Let go," He says, out of breath. His skin glistens with sweat, his thighs twitching under me.
"Eric... Eric... fuck." I topple over the edge, shouting his name loud enough that all of Chicago can hear. My body becomes limp but he holds me up with his hands, grabbing at my ass as he thrusts into me with newfound speed.
I listen, dazed and over stimulated, as he groans and echoes my name back to me.
Slowly, he slips out of me, leaving me shivering and feeling empty. I lay on his chest, not having the bodily ability to move myself just yet.
"How was it?" He asks, wiping my sweat slicked hair from my face, kissing my forehead.
The cafeteria is louder than any room I've ever been in. No matter the fact that Amity is known for being talkative, we were never like this, so uninhibited.
"Where should we sit?" Clare asks, eyes scanning the room. Most of the tables around us seem to be full, leaving only two options, try and sit in with the dauntless born who - despite the kindness of Kai - seem more inclined to bite us than their food, or to cram in next to Eric. He sits with only one other person but the table remains empty besides them.
I nod my head at the leader and start walking forward, looks like this is our best bet.
Owen and Clare reach the table first, taking seats next to the other man, leaving me to sit next to Eric. My arm brushes his jacket as I sit and it sends a small shiver down my spine.
I can feel their conversation stop at our intrusion but pay them no mind as I begin loading up a plate.
Some of the food I recognize, basic fruits and vegetables, but others I've never seen before. With hesitant fingers I pinch at the circular slab of meat and place it onto my tray, it seems foreign among the rest of my plant based meal.
"What, have you never seen a hamburger before?" The man asks, he smiles at me and I can't tell if I should be embarrassed.
"Uh, no." I shake my head, grabbing a fork and knife to cut it with. "Amity is mainly vegetarian unless you raise the animal yourself, but even then we tend to keep them as pets before..." I glance at the man again, his head tilted as if interested. His hair, chin length and a dirty kind of blonde, hangs sideways.
"What?" I question, confused at his stare.
"Nothing, it's just not every day that we get an Amity transfer around here."
"Try 47 years." Clare pipes up mid bite.
"It's been that long?" I ask, feeling more nervous than I was moments ago.
She nods, "And even then they didn't make it, it's actually undocumented how long it's been since a person has successfully made the transition."
I sit down my fork and knife and stare at her in shock.
The man whistles and stares at me again, this time as if I'm a specimen.
"Well then I'll just have to be the first documented." I say, straightening my back and looking back down at my meal. I'm about to pick up my fork when a calloused hand stops me.
"You don't need that." Eric mutters from beside me, his voice deep. He reaches around me and my tray, gathering random items; a bun, pickles, a red sauce, and onions. He stacks them all together before setting it down for me.
I look up to see his eyes already on my face, his gaze intense.
"Try it." He motions with a hand.
Picking it up with too hands, I lean forward, sniffing slightly before taking a bite. My eyes close as flavor explodes in my mouth and I stifle back a moan.
"This.." I try and chew as quickly as I can so I'm able to speak. "Is absolutely amazing." I smile wide.
He merely smirks at me before turning back to his friend, saying something, and rising from his seat. Before he walks away fully he looks down at me.
"Glad you like it, Sunflower."
I mean to respond but he's already too far from the table for me to speak by the time my mouth catches up to my brain.
"So let me guess," the man pipes up again, leaving me to shake off the feeling that had came over me. "Amity," he nods to me exaggeratedly as if it was completely obvious, "Erudite," he points at Clare with his fork, "and Abnegation?" He signals at Owen, the only one he seems to be hesitant on.
"That was pretty good." Clare comments a smile pulling on her lips.
"Candor?" I ask looking at him, speaking in between bites of my hamburger. He gives me a shocked expression but nods in confirmations.
"How'd you guess?" He seems genuinely surprised. I can only shrug at his, going for my drink.
"You're the best at perception, always trying to pick up on people's ticks. Doesn't surprise me that you'd be able to read us that well." Owen gives me a confused look from his end of the table and I explain myself.
"Amity has you take classes on the relations and values of other factions. They always said it was to be sure not to offend them when we came in contact. They called the class 'Knowing Your Friends." I finished with a small laugh, thinking about how odd I thought the experience was at the time, only for it to come in handy now.
"Sounds about like Amity," Clare says joining in with me laughing.
"I'm Luke, by the way, before you somehow guess that too." He smirks at me and extends his hand. I take it, slightly less awkwardly than I had earlier.
"Violet." I respond, giving him a smile. "And that's Clare and Owen."
"Nice to meet you." He says, beginning to look off into the distance, as if bracing for something.
Suddenly an alarm goes off, a short burst of three blaring rings making a few people jump but most just raise their heads to a catwalk that hangs many feet in the air.
"Initiates, stand." A man with deep skin and greying hair calls and we all follow his orders. "I'm Max, a leader here. You have chosen the warrior faction, tasked with the defense of this city and all its inhabitants. We believe in ordinary acts of bravery. In the courage that drives one man to stand up for another. We believe that pain and death are better than inaction." He pauses, glancing around the room and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as his stare catches on me for a moment before moving on.
"Respect that. Be brave. Do us proud." He finishes and the crowd is moved from near silence into roaring cheers. People pound their cups on tables, their hands together, their feet against the ground. Anything to make noise.
I can't help but feel their unrelenting power flow through me and I smile wider than I have in years. A true smile. I let a cheer out and feel as people grab my body, lifting me to be carried by the crowd. I'm gripped by my clothing, and as I'm passed over from hand to hand I feel a sense of unity like no other.
This is family, not the forced niceties of Amity.
Not the forced smiles.
Unity is the deafening noise of a faction who won't just lay down and die.
Who wants to help me get these out my house. I was cleaning out a drawer and happened upon these 3 key chains. I want them gone. I will ship to you at no cost. States only please.
A shout out to my followers!
I feel I own you an apology for the hiatus. It’s going to last a bit longer. Why?
Because odds are I finally cracked that writers block, not without help from a dear friend, and I’m not posting anything until I’ve finished the story. It’s probably another 3 parts or so to go.
Meanwhile, I’d love to hear from you guys! What has been your favourite/least favourite moment so far? Which characters are you rooting for?
Feedback is one of the biggest inspirations to any writer, so keep it coming, good or bad. It’s always appreciated!
A massive thanks to all of you who’ve read, commented, sent an ask... Hopefully we’ll all see an end to this soon.
Yours,
Divergent fanfiction
Eric/OC
No spoilers. No warnings. I dare you to read.
Part 7
Cloth dabbing away at his split lip. It pinched. He hated when it pinched, and gripped the edge of the table hard. It hurt to breathe, so he tried to make as small movements, take as small breaths as he possibly could.
“There,” her grey eyes were lit with wonder, as she pulled back, taking him in. She pressed an icepack against his cheek, to keep the swelling down. She instructed him to keep it there. Eric was reluctant to release the table – after all, grasping it was the only thing to keep his hands from shaking. Rather clumsily, he let go, and pressed his palm to the icepack, letting it numb him. She pushed bright blonde hair away from her face, and nodded, bracing herself.
“This might hurt,” light fingertips against his ribs, like blades – he hissed through clenched teeth and grasped the table again. The icepack burst as it fell to the floor, cubes rattling nervously, as they found their freedom to be a warm room and certain death.
“It’s alright,” her eyes dug into his, reassuring him. “Your ribs are bruised, you’ll be alright.” She lifted her hand to his face, and he froze, his eyes wide with anticipation – only to close, as she hesitantly ran them through his hair.
Sometimes he wondered if he got himself in trouble, only so he could experience this motherly warmth…
The scent of the medic-station burned into his nose. Clean. Sanitation. Pulling him back into consciousness.
“You stupid bastard,” a voice whispered. Familiar. It cut through the voices of the doctors trying to assess his injuries and letting the people in the room know he was coming to.
“No,” Eric moaned and attempted to fight the hands that were keeping him down. “Get off me,” his throat was dry. He tried to open his eyes – but couldn’t make out anything except bright light.
“Lie still, we’re trying to get the bullet out,” someone informed.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” another spoke in a low voice.
“Come on, calm down.” her voice. Soothing. She could not possibly be here for this, not whilst he...
“You stupid bastard!” Louder now, accompanied by the sound of glass shattering.
“No!” Eric shouted, feeling how the single protest ripped through his throat. His body began shaking, he lost control – one of the things he hated the most.
“Give him more sedative, now!”
It was all silent around him. His eyes fluttered, and the first thing he saw once they were open, was a small familiar figure slumped in a chair, watching him. He didn’t know what he was expecting, to be fair, but that was certainly not it.
“What are you doing here?” his voice came out hoarse, making him sound more vulnerable than he liked. But his attempt didn’t fly past her.
An angry look crossed her face, and she was about to tell him off, when they heard raised voices, approaching from the hallway.
“What good will it do?” Zeke appeared in the doorway, trying to block someone off, that could only be -
“Move Zeke! We’ve done this tango before. It eases my mind to know I haven’t killed him, alright? It’s the only way I’ll get through practise without taking a fucking blow – “ but she stopped once she had peered past the tall dark skinned guy.
“You’re awake,” she whispered. It was like a kid seeing something extraordinary for the first time. Not knowing whether to be terrified or overjoyed.
“Yes, he’s awake. No thanks to you,” Amy hissed – storming straight towards her. Eric’s head snapped towards the girl with the red streaked hair and thick black lines around her eyes, making her seem more on edge and more frightening than she ever could be. Her pinchy lips delivering words spitefully.
“Hey,” Zeke was about to protest, but had no such luck.
The sudden movement made a sharp pain shoot through him, and he groaned. Eric’s sound of distress earned him a worried glance from Kizzy, catching her off guard just as Amy landed her a massive slap across the cheek and continued down the hall, disappearing.
Kizzy took it like a statue, the only thing changing was her skin turning angrily red.
“Want me to go after her?” Zeke questioned. Kizzy didn’t answer. She moved past Zeke, who had lowered his arms to let Amy pass, silently stepping into the room.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then.” His voice indicated how this clearly was a bad idea. Zeke leaned against the doorframe, his back to them, like an obedient guard dog.
“You look like shit,” Eric exclaimed and finally managed to sit up. His entire body was aching, and he noticed the massive bandage around his chest. He tried to feel it, and hissed.
“Karma is a bitch, huh? Bruised ribs, they say.” she stopped right in front of him, and crossed her arms. He noticed her bandaged hands, and remember how she had screamed when she caught the blade between them. Kizzy continued to inform him of his injuries; the cut in his shoulder wasn’t too deep, but the one to his side had been bad. Luckily vital organ’s hadn’t been struck. Then there was the bullet he had taken in his thigh... How it all had made him lose a lot of blood… He only listened halfway – taking in all of her instead;
She had stitches just below her hairline, a black eye, a busted lip, now that burning cheek from the slap too. She looked like the artist’s guide to colour bruise. Hadn’t she always, though?
“What happened to you?” he frowned at her, wondering if the Factionless had come back for them.
“Lack of attention,” she admitted and nodded thoughtfully and pursed her lips. “In training,” she added.
“...It’s the only way I’ll get through practise without taking a fucking blow,” he repeated her words silently, more to himself than her.
“Heard that, did you?” she shifted weight, before she dumped down on the bed next to him.
“Yeah,” he murmured, struggling not to groan again. Zeke had stiffened by the door, but he still had his back turned. Eric lowered his voice and rubbed the back of his neck, a movement which caused a lot of agony; his muscles were still sore.
“How long have I been out?” his voice was low, his eyes sharp as they set on her.
“Two days,” she said with a shrug.
“When we got back here, who was in here with us?” he questioned. She frowned. Eric felt a chill go down his spine, and swallowed hard. Memories of shattered glass and angry voices… Ghosts.
“The doctor, nurses – me, until they knocked you out... Amy obviously showed up at one point,” she arched an eyebrow and glanced at the now empty chair.
“That’s it? You knew everyone in here?” Eric pushed further.
“Yeah, well – I know their names, Dauntless isn’t that big a,”
Eric nodded and cut her off. Memories of what happened ever since he caught her by the ferris wheel mixed together in a massive blur, his mind still a bit foggy. Then he remembered the sound of the door dragging, her slaps and voice screaming his name, she ran away though, she...
Eric furrowed his brows, “You saved me.” he sounded surprised. Burying his eyes in hers.
“Yeah. Now we’re even,” she gently pushed him back onto the bed, placing another pillow under his head. “Get some rest, I’ll tell them to bring you something to eat before we head off to training. Feel better soon.”
Kizzy tapped Zeke’s shoulder gently as she headed out, Zeke allowed himself one last glance into the room, a mixture of disapproval and concern playing on his face.
Eric released a loud, frustrated, huff and glared up at the ceiling. His IV itched – he ripped it out. Awake, he wouldn’t need it, he figured. He ran a hand across his head, realising he must have hit it pretty bad as they jumped off the train, for those particular memories of his past to return to him. He wondered how much he had said, how much they had figured out, knew… And he hated himself for having to be rescued, for being dependent on someone else to live… People always found a way to take advantage of that, was his lesson. He hated her.
As most nights in Dauntless, people hung out in the pit, got drunk, caught up, got reckless... She had escaped the company of Zeke, who seemed to be keeping his watchful eyes at her at every turn ever since she had returned with Eric… When she thought no one was watching, she snuck out, and went down to the bottom of the Chasm. The waterfall killed out the voices from above, but failed to drown the chaos in her head.
“Thought I saw you head this way,” a soft voice said. She rose too quickly and nearly slipped off the moist rock. Four reached out for her hand – but not nearly quick enough, and she fell backwards into the water. It was churning, threatening to drag her into oblivion, when she felt his fingers close around her arm and pull her up.
“Eric was faster,” she gasped as she broke surface, her tone almost accusing. Kizzy spat and squeezed her hair in her hands – a shudder went through her. It was definitely a brutal wake up call.
“What?” Four frowned. She lifted her eyebrows and shook her head.
“Nothing,” she searched into his eyes. There was a determined look there that confused her.
“What’s up?” she asked, and glanced past his shoulder to see if he had company – but there was no one.
“Look, when I suggested that you’d talk to Eric to help get through that last part in your fear landscape,” he began. Kizzy crossed her arms over her chest. “Suggested?” she repeated irritatedly. Four continued as if she hadn’t uttered a word; “I just think it’s enough now. You did what you set out to do. You conquered your fear. Good for you.”
“Conquered my fear?” she said, her tone dropping with disbelief. “What exactly are you implying, Four?”
He blinked, knowing that this was a situation to proceed with caution…
---
Author’s note
Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoyed this one, it sure is getting tricky to write, as I’m dead set on revealing “ghosts” and “memories”.
Feel free to leave any kind of feedback, good or bad, it’s always much appreciated! And if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading!
Sorry guys, I won't be able to update the story this weekend.
As consolation, have a picture of Jai.
Feel free to leave me feedback on what you've read so far though, it's always much appreciated!
Catch up on the story here;
Divergent Fanfiction
Title: The Dauntless
Pairing: Eric/OC
Warnings: Plenty...
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
