Note: It's about time Eric and Jo experienced some lemony goodness. I didn't intend for it, but sometimes it happens. This is my second foray with writing SMUT so please be gentle with this almost virgin.

The inspiration for this one-shot is based on a prompt submission I read on OTPPROMPTS tumblr blog. But I embellished a bit and added a Person C.

Original prompt: Person A is upset because there is no more toilet paper. They ask Person B what happened to it all. Person B comes running in with toilet paper wrapped all around them pretending to be a mummy.

"Jo, I told you to put the toilet paper in the closet last night."

"I did," she calls out from the living room.

"Well, I'm looking in the closet. It's not here."

"How can that be? I put it away before I went to bed." Placing her book on the couch, she rushes over to where Eric's standing.

"It was right here." She points at the empty space between the tissue boxes and cleaning wipes.

"Well it can't sprout legs, what did you do with it?"

"It was here," she exclaims while trying to retrace her actions from last night.

"Obviously," he says condescendingly. "Use your brain. Think."

"Stop talking to me like that."

He rolls his eyes. "Just find the damn toilet paper."

His forehead crinkles and his tongue pushes against his teeth. Jo has seen this a hundred times when he's irritated and moving fast into anger.

"I'm not looking for it when I know I put it here yesterday. Besides, it's toilet paper. We'll just get more." His icy stare burns into her face. "Why are you so mad?"

"Mad," he scoffs. "It's the principle."

"What principle?"

"I told you to do something and you didn't do it. And now you're trying to deny it. Why can't you just admit your mistakes?

"Cause I didn't make a mistake."

"Clearly." He gestures at the shelf. "This isn't the first time. I tell you to do things in the morning and it doesn't get done until the next day. Things go missing. And you have no idea where they are. Like where is my gray sweatshirt and silver earplugs?"

Jo immediately reacts defensively to his accusations.

"It's always my fault. Is it going to kill you if the laundry isn't folded immediately or if there's one cup sitting in the sink overnight? Since I don't have a brain, why don't you tell me where your things are?"

He scowls at her but doesn't speak. Holding in his need to shout, he stomps to the bedroom and slams the door. It's ironic in his mind how calm and collected he can be when it comes to dealing with an errant soldier, but his wife brings out the crazy in him.
Jo lifts her hands pretending to wring his neck. He makes her so damn furious. He always accuses her for misplacing or forgetting things. His compulsiveness for keeping things neat and having things done in a particular way is annoying and intolerable. But the thing that drives her mad to the point where she wants to throw a knife at him is the condescending tone he uses. Standing idly in the living room for ten minutes, the pitch in his words repeat in her mind, burning and escalating until she feels like she'll explode.

Her body steers itself into the bedroom not really knowing what to expect by confronting him. With her arms folded and glaring daggers at his head, she waits for him to acknowledge her presence. He merely glances up and resumes reading from the tablet as if nothing has happened.

Audibly clearing her throat, Eric sorely responds, "What?"

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"You know what..."

Letting out a loaded sigh, he growls, "Don't start with that shit about my tone again. It's the way I talk. That's not going to change."

She wishes she could let it go but she's let it go too many times. It weighs so heavily on her heart that the words spill out of her mouth.
"I'd do practically anything you ask of me. But for once could you speak kindly rather than talk down to me? I'm not as intelligent as you. I know that. But it's really painful being told over and over again how 'stupid and illogical" I am. It hurts. It really hurts. You're always ready to pounce on my mistakes. But what if I haven't done anything wrong? Why do you accuse me anyway? Why do you always need someone to blame? Do you want me to respect you or fear you? Cause right now, I do your bidding more out of fear than respect. Is that what you want?" She pauses hoping for a response, any response. Nothing. Seconds feel like minutes when she softly utters, "Do you even love me?"

He continues to look at his tablet with no indication that he's listening. Annoyed that her concerns fall on deaf ears, she picks up her hairbrush and hurls it at him. "Hey! Did you hear what I said? Do you even care?"

The brush bounces off his arm. The air between them instantly becomes charged and she regrets her decision. His fingernails turn white from the crushing grip on the tablet. His breaths become shallow, heavy, and his muscles tense. Placing the tablet on the table as gingerly as possible, he heaves a breath trying to calm himself down. But all he feels is a flash of heat coursing through his body.

A chill runs down Jo's spine as he fast approaches. Unsuspecting his intent, there's no escape from the grip on her neck as he slams her against the wall. Peering down at her with his nose almost touching her cheek, he hisses, "Don't you ever fucking throw something at me again." Sputtering and wheezing for breath, she nods, clenching her eyes to keep her tears from spilling. His fingers claw further into her neck almost cutting off her circulation before abruptly letting go. The sharp inhale of air burns her lungs.

Eric backs away watching her, disgruntled with the situation. Grabbing the brush off the floor, he pitches it at the wall causing Jo to flinch. "We have this fight every week. This ends now. You knew what you signed up for when we got together. I've already changed a hundred different ways since you arrived here."

This was news to her ears. "How?"

"I moved you into my apartment. I married you. We have a child." He says it in a way that sounds like she's to blame - a burden he never wanted. Then his following words confirm how much he resents her.

"I stopped fucking other girls." Her body stiffens at his cavalier response. Though his words are true, she feels the pangs of anger and self doubt arise. Maybe she's reading into it too much or maybe he's doing it on purpose - using her insecurity against her. It's the one thing that really disturbs her when she's among other Dauntless members. She has to pretend not to care that Eric has been with the girl who cuts her hair or with Emily, who she still works with in the infirmary. She tries so hard not to let Eric see that it bothers her but it's written all over her face. "So what am I supposed to say? Thank you?"

"You should." Jo is stunned by his response. The hurt she felt earlier doesn't even compare to the pain throbbing in her chest. She doesn't care that he sees her cry anymore. She flings open the closet, grabs a bag and starts stuffing the clothes she had folded earlier, hers and Jason's. He watches her from the doorway passively.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not coming back tonight."

"That's not what I asked."

"Doesn't matter. Do whatever you want, whoever you want. I won't hold you back anymore."

She zips the bag and pushes him out of her way to walk down the hall to Jason's room. But his stance is solid, blocking her from leaving the room.

"Move."

"You're not leaving."

"Get out of my way." She shoves at him again but he picks her up by the waist and hauls her over his shoulder. "Eric! Put me down!" He shuts the door with his foot and walks over to the bed, dropping her on her back.

"What are you doing?"

"You said to do whatever I want, whoever I want. Well I want you and I want to do you." She shakes her head and tries to slide off the bed. "You're insane. I'm not -" His mouth is on hers before she can finish her sentence. She tries to push him off but he crawls on top of her, restraining her arms with his hands. She struggles against him hoping to slip out but his weight is heavy over her pelvis allowing very little movement in her legs. She bites his lip hard, but it only seems to spur him on. His mouth moves over her jaw and down her neck leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Kissing her tear-stained face, he breathes into her skin, "You do realize when you fight me, it turns me on." He lets go of her arms for a second and pulls his T-shirt over his head. Hoping she's more compliant, he allows her hands to roam. She sensuously rubs his shoulders and weaves her hand into his hair. But, it's all a ruse. She yanks his hair, pulling his head into the bed; allowing her to extricate herself from his grasp. He lets out a growl at the searing pain but recovers quickly. Hardly making it to the edge of the bed, Eric grabs her by her shirt and jerks her back. A shriek escapes her lips as he tears it open causing the buttons to fly. He turns her onto her stomach, ripping the shirt off her back. Keeping her restrained with one hand over her head, he's pleasantly surprised to find her not wearing a bra. He roughly fondles her breasts, pinching her nipples with his fingers as he bites and kisses up her back. Reaching over to the shirt he discarded, he ties her wrists together tightly and secures her to the metal bars of the bed frame.

"Eric," she gasps his name hoping to make him stop but her voice lacks conviction. She turns to see his pupils are blown; lust and need laces every inch of his body.

Unfastening her pants, he quickly yanks it off her legs along with her underwear, leaving her completely bare before him. He softly caresses the outside of her thighs hoisting her to bend at her knees. Leaning over, he brushes her hair off to one side, allowing him access to kiss her cheek.

"I will say this and say this once," he murmurs next to her ear as he slides his hands between her legs, relishing the wetness at her entrance.

"I've never been kind or gentle..." He inserts a finger inside, feeling her walls contract at the contact.

"It's not in my nature. Emotions are a weakness..." Her hips rock into his hand craving more friction as he slightly withdraws his finger.

"But you've brought out feelings I've never felt before. I've had to rethink everything I've known..." With his thumb, he rubs circles over her clit earning a sigh of pleasure.

"I will try to be more considerate...kind...for you." Continuing to stimulate her, he kisses her ear, the nape of her neck and down her spine.

"Okay," Jo moans out her answer, trying to concentrate on his words. However, it's a losing battle as the waves of desire and warmth swell from the pit of her stomach. She would agree to anything at the moment. He brings her so close to the edge that she's quivering and desperate for release.

Sensing that she's near climax, he suddenly stops - the absence of his hand, the heat of his body leaves her begging for more. She hears his belt buckle come undone and his grunt in frustration as he can't pull his zipper down fast enough. The urgency in his movements involuntarily causes her to rub her legs together trying to find any source of stimulation, but it pulls her arms taut causing her to lose her grip on the sheets. Unable to hold herself up with her hands, she lays her cheek on the pillow, angling her body to him like an offering to be consumed.

Without hesitation, Eric pushes inside her - he groans at the sensation while she winces from the deep stretch. Holding still for a second, it feels as if time stops around them. He bends forward; his hand grips her shoulder as he begins to thrust, causing her to mewl in ecstasy. There is no tenderness, only a yearning and physical hunger. All too soon, he feels a slight tensing in his abdomen. He slows and lengthens his movements, trying to hold out his release. She squirms against him urging him to move.

"Eric more, faster... harder," she pleads.

"Not yet baby." He focuses his efforts on building her up and keeping her teetering on the edge.

His hands firmly massages her back and breasts causing her to buck against his pelvis. He moves slowly and deeply hitting a spot inside that suddenly makes her shudder. Feeling the slight fluttering of her vagina around his cock, Eric pulls all the way out, earning a whine of disappointment from Jo before driving back in, in one fluid stroke. Wrapping his hand around her throat, he pulls her as far upright as the restraints allow. The shirt cuts painfully into her wrists with each push and pull but it's offset by the intensifying desire building inside her. He plants open mouthed kisses on he shoulder bruising her...branding her. Tightening his grip on her neck, his pace quickens into a frenzy. She tries to find some semblance of balance, but she's completely at his mercy. The sound of his pelvis slaps against her ass with each thrust. Shoving his other hand between the apex of her legs, he recklessly rubs her clitoris causing her to throw her head back against his shoulder. The position and Eric's increasing pace consumes her. Lost in the haze of him, she suddenly cries out as she's thrown into blissful oblivion. He continues to wildly thrust into her, riding out her orgasm until she feels him tense and shudder behind her. Breathing heavily and fully sated, he releases her throat, but remains inside her, pressing his damp chest flush against her back.

"We should do this more often," Jo quips playfully.

"Argue or have make up sex?"

"Uh, I don't think we made up. We were still arguing."

"Are you seriously trying to rile me up again. I can go round two in your ass." He jerks his pelvis against her for emphasis.

She turns her head to glare at him.

"Didn't think so."

Barely having a minute to enjoy a quiet moment of intimacy, Jason's voice vibrates outside their door.

"Mommy? Mommy?"

Eric hastily pulls out, swearing at the lost of contact. He throws the covers over Jo in case their four year old comes barreling through the door. He grabs his boxers and pulls them on.

"Hold on baby, mommy's coming," Jo call's out laying on her side.

"Yes she did," Eric retorts as he grabs his knife from between the mattress. Jo rolls her eyes at him. "Really mature."

Without even giving a second thought to the shirt he cuts her loose from the metals bars.

Giving Jo a moment to get cleaned up and dressed, he opens the door to tend to his toddler, but the sight before him renders hims speechless.

"Jo!" He shouts.

She rushes out the bedroom and stops in her tracks. The only word out of her mouth is a silent "Oh..."

"Mommy look. I'm a mummy." Toilet paper is wrapped over every inch of his body, leaving only a space for his eyes, nose and mouth. He waddles down the hallway with his arms outstretched in front of him. "Did I scare you? Daddy showed me pictures of mummies in Egypt."

Impressed with his creativity, she doesn't have the heart to scold him for taking the toilet paper. "Wow! You did scare me! It's exactly like the pictures." Jo glances at Eric who is looking everywhere except her face. Satisfied that Jo likes his costume, Jason ambles back into his room chattering about his next project.

Tugging Eric's hand, she tries to force his gaze on her.

"So do you have something you want to say to me?" She asks pointedly, hoping for an apology. His face hardens. A smug smile spreads across her lips. Appearing in deep concentration, Eric finally answers, "Yeah, let's go argue some more!"

He laughs at the glowering look on her face as he carries her back in the bedroom.