Decided to write a compilation of different characters in the Divergent world. Lemons will ensue. Review any suggestions. ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU DON'T SUGGEST INCEST. Other than that...go for it!
FOUR WATCHED HER from the edges of the training room. Clumsy, awkward, naïve. Just by looking at her, he can tell she wasn't yet accustomed to Dauntless life. She wears black, but looser than a Dauntless woman would. She is too hesitant with weaponry and with everything she approaches, and yet so sure at the same time. She aims a hit at the punching bag, bringing her fist far from her head, twisting as she tries to move the damn thing. She fails miserably, twisting too far, and tumbling to the floor. Others around her snicker, and a smile etches on his own face too.
He decides not to intervene. Practicing on her own for a few minutes might work out better, and to be honest, he isn't sure that he could restrain himself from her if he did. Just yesterday he impulsively pressed her side, his throat constricting, breaking a sweat.
Four decided to gaze around the room at other initiates for the first time since training started. He fixes up Myra's angle, helps Drew add more power in his aim. The others seem to be doing all right, and he does a second once over before resting his gaze on Tris. She seems to have given up, leaning her forehead on the punching bag, a sneer plastered on her lips. He takes the opportunity to have his eyes roam down her body, a luxury he can do only during training, only during the first phase. Well that's not completely true he thinks to himself sarcastically. You've certainly seen her several times these past nights. She certainly has become the main spectacle in his dreams.
Her curves are small but tight, her breasts so small he could probably fit his whole mouth with one. Her baggy dark clothing covers most of her ass, leaving much to his imagination…
Fuck. His cock starts to twitch just thinking about the dream he had last night. The one where she was bent over the table in the training room, the one just across from him now. She was completely bare. Her hands were bound by rope, and her voice begged him to take her then and there.
A vibration on his wrist instantly breaks his reverie. 10:00. The initiates were done for the morning.
Tris still stands with her forehead resting on the punching bag. It covers her eyes, but he'd bet that she was glaring at it. He feels guilty, suddenly, knowing he should try to help her out a little more.
"Initiates, you're all dismissed. I will see you later today, when I'll pair you off to practice sparring on each other. 2:00. Don't be late."
They all start to exit in their own little groups. Just before Tris makes it to her own little clique, he stops her. "Prior. Stay."
Tris winces. She had a feeling he wasn't going to let her off so easy. "I'll see you guys later." She tells her friends, Will giving her a nod, Christina a surprised glance, and Al a warm smile.
She heads towards Four, and her hands knot together out of nervousness. He wears a tight shirt, outlining every dip and crevice from his muscles. He's the most handsome person she's ever seen, and his eyes always seem to ignite her. Something deep inside her churns looking at him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and a stoic expression crosses his face. She wonders if she can change that look if her lips touched his, or other parts of him…
"Yes?" She says innocently, as if she wasn't just thinking of what she can do to him. Or what he can do to her.
"You haven't improved since yesterday. That is a problem, considering your first real fight starts tomorrow. You can leave now if you'd like, but perhaps you'd like to stay here and train."
This snaps her out of her more than flirtatious thoughts. "I'm trying," she snaps indignantly, "it hasn't been working out!"
"Well then, we'll have to make it work out." He says simply. He motions for her to follow him to a punching bag. Its red mass hangs from a chain on the ceiling, taunting her. "Go on, give it your best punch."
She brings her fist back and is about to release when he says "Hold it!"
"Already!?" She says alarmed. How could she mess up before even hitting the bag?
"Your thumb."
"What about it?"
"It's outside your fist. If you were to land a solid one, you could break it." He takes her fist in his hands, prying her thumb so that it rests on her index finger. His hands are calloused, rough, and her throat dries almost instantly.
"Thank you." She says softly.
"Try now." She does, though the red mass only move a centimeter. "Now, you could make it go back a foot or two if you move your foot more back."
"What do you mean?" She questions. She thought a good punch came from how far back her hand could go, not her feet.
He's silent. And then his hands are on her hips, moving her back. She gasps slightly, though he is too busy positioning her legs, two and a half feet apart, angled perpendicular to each other. "See, this way you can twist more. The more you can twist into your punch, the more force it'll have.
She twists her arms around, testing out this strategy. He cannot help but notice how her ass looks when she does so, now that her shirt has ridden up a bit. She throws a punch, and surprisingly, it moves farther back.
"Thanks." She says again.
"Spar with me." He blurts out. She turns, shocked.
"What?!"
"It'll help you. I promise. Arms up, Stiff."
Tris abides hesitantly. She circles around him, and he jumps at her. She shrieks, moving back, but he doesn't let his fist fly. "Don't hesitate. Always go first, before your opponent knows what's going on."
Tris nods, but she is frustrated. Some strange part of her wished he had tackled her to the ground, that he was on top of her. She can feel her core start to heat up.
"Again." He says, and they go at this for another twenty minutes. Every few minutes, he'll correct her form or give some more advice, and she even gets a few hits in before he ultimately blocks her.
She gets an idea suddenly, and when Four says "Again." She runs at him. Expecting to be hit, he spread his legs and raises his arms to block her for the umpteenth time. She doesn't. Instead, she ducks and slips in between his legs. Once she is behind him, she wastes no time before knocking the back of his knees with her elbows. He falls on his kneecaps with a thud, but is fast to react. He twists so that he faces her on his knees, but she's already up on her feet, ready to make the fatal blow that they've been practicing. She lands it, right on his shoulder (Dammit, she was aiming for his collarbone) and uses the rest of her arms to push him down.
He gasps as his back hits the mat. Her legs are straddling him, her arms are on his shoulders in order to pin him down. She looks wild, afraid even though she has the upper hand. Then, he laughs.
"Good job!" He says, an amused smirk on his face. "Although, you forgot-"
He uses his own body to flip them. Her legs remained locked onto his waist, and she shrieks, enclosing her arms on instinct. He's on top of her, her face breathing heavily on his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. "-to knee your opponent in the ribs." He mutters in her ear.
Her core is burning, and she suddenly feels dizzy. She can't think straight, not that she wants to, and she says "Maybe I have him right where I want him." Her hips press closer to his body. She revels in the deep groan she elicits.
"Tris…"
"Hmm?"
He should tell her to stop, that she's having such an effect on him. He starts to harden all over again, his fiction now coming into fantasy, a fantasy that could ruin both of their lives. But if no one knew…
She kisses him just behind his earlobe, and all his doubt vanishes. He wants her. He's wanted her since the beginning, and now's his chance and he's going to take it. He presses her harder into the mat, and she sighs. His lips find her neck, kissing her with open mouthed kisses up to her jaw. Their eyes meet, and she finally closes the distance between their mouths. Her hands grab fistful of his hair, and he basks in the way she tastes, feels, smells. She moans in his mouth as his tongue grazes her own, slowly but surely. "God, I hope we both have the same thing in mind…" he says huskily.
Feeling bold, she bites her lip, lowering her eyes. Her hands slowly travel down his abdomen, and slipping into the waistband of his pants. He closes his eyes and savors the feeling before lifting himself up a bit. In one quick instant, his shirt is on the floor next to them. He gets up on his feet, leaving her on the mat bewildered. He turns toward the door and says "That shirt better be off of you when I turn around, Stiff, or I'm going to have to rip it off of you." He clicks the lock on the training room door, turns off the light to evade any suspicion. When he turns around again, her shirt is gone, and her hair is released from its pony tail. She lies there in a gray lace bra on the mat, her black fitted jeans still on.
"Beatrice Prior, you certainly are a sight." He almost purrs, lowering onto his knees. His hands find the buttons of her jeans, and soon he tugs them off of her, along with her shoes. "Still wearing gray I see, naughty little thing." His voice drops when he finally takes it in.
"Still wearing pants I see, prude little thing." She fires back. He gazes at her playfully, and she arches her back as he finally takes his pants and boxers off. She looks at his hardened length and she looks awed. "Never mind." She mutters. "I take back what I said. You're not little at all."
He positions himself on top of her, and her fingertips are trailing down his sides, on his nipples, and on his lower back. Four shudders, loving everything about this moment. He lowers himself so that he's in line with her chest. She raises herself on her fore arms, allowing him to unclasp her bra. Once it's off, he almost growls before putting her breast in his mouth. "Ah!" She lets out, as her eyes roll back, her fingers clutching his hair once more. His tongue circles her areola too slowly, and his other hand kneads her other breast. Tris gyrates her hips towards Four's waist when his tongue flicks her nipple.
Her panties are soaked as Four removes them with his mouth. He's done this several times before, always with some girl whose name he never bothered remembering for more than a week. But this is Tris, not some conquest. Tris, with her challenging words, contradictory style, and unfathomable strength. He comes back up to meet her eyes, making sure she looks at him. As always, he gets lost in their depth, the blue transporting him to a cloudless sky. "Have you…you know…"
"Only with my hands." She says, a blush covering her cheeks in embarrassment. He scowls- she shouldn't be ashamed, doesn't want her to be. He kisses her deeply, with confidence, before saying "Good. I didn't want to go too easy on you." To his delight, she genuinely laughs. He hurriedly goes back to his pant pockets, grabbing the condom he always keeps in his wallet.
When he enters her, finally, they both have to old back a sigh. She buries herself in the crook of his neck, inhaling his metallic scent. She moans every time he thrusts into her, again and again and again, harder and faster each time. He doesn't mind. It motivates him to keep going, to hold on. "Don't stop." She whispers as she's close. "Please don't…please..."
"Shh, baby." He mutters in her ear, kissing her cheek. He trails kisses down her jaw, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He vaguely hears her screaming Four! Four! Yes! Yes! and wonders how it would sound if she called him by his real name. But now isn't the time to open up to her about his shitty life.
He feels her clench around him, almost taking him simultaneously. She has to bite into his shoulder to keep from screaming to loud, and Four feels like ecstasy is running through his veins. Her body, sweaty and at his mercy. The sound of her climax, a sirens song. The delicious bite she left on his neck, now being sucked on. He knows it'll leave a mark, but doesn't care. He thrust deeper and harder than before, and she cries out just before she orgasms again, this time allowing himself to cum as well.
Once their high is over and he finishes releasing himself, he carefully takes the condom out, disposing it in the bathroom that lies in the training room. When he returns to Tris, he sees that she's fully dressed, tugging on her pants before reaching for her shoes.
Confused, he tugs on his boxers and says "You okay?"
"Yeah." She comes close to him and places her palm on his chest over his heart. She doesn't look at him. "I won't tell anyone. This never happened."
He snorts. "Except it did."
She bites her lips nervously, looking at the ground. He still stands before her in nothing but boxers looking absolutely incredible. His hair is still pointed in all directions from her fists tugging on them. "Aren't there rules about this sort of thing?"
He takes her hand and slowly brings it to his mouth, kissing the pads of her fingers. "We can still continue this. No one can know, not until initiation is over. But that…well, we're going to have to do that again. Unless you don't want to."
He tries not to sound too sullen at that last part.
She thinks for a bit before pulling herself to him, listening to his beating heart. His arms enclose around her, and she feels a kiss on her head just as she kissed his chest. "Of course I do. But I don't know what you want…I mean, something long term, or just sex, or-"
He cuts her off with his lips, crashing against hers, and pulling her to his body. She fits perfectly by his side, in his arms.
"We don't have to figure everything out just this second." He winks at her before putting the rest of his ensemble on. "And not sway your decision or anything-but I think we have more in common than you think. And also…"he murmurs in her ear in a seductive whisper, "That was the fucking best I've ever had. Just something to think about."
"Hmm…" She says smiling. "Think I will." She turns around swiftly, and he has smug grin set on his mouth. He smacks her ass and she gives him one last frisky look before giving him a quick peck.
He goes into his apartment to shower. She goes to the cafeteria to have a quick lunch and reassure her friends that Four just let her train on her own for a bit.
At 2:00, when all the initiates file into the training room, she can't help but look at Four, unconsciously biting her lip. He gives her one flirtatious wink, glancing at the mat where he took her, before addressing the group in front of him.
Al turns to her and whispers "Well, he looks a little less tense."
"What's that on his neck?" Will questions. Christina snickers.
Tris can't hide the satisfied grin either when she sees what it is. Her mark, displayed proudly on his neck.