Again, this is for OutOfTheSun!

Here is the second part. There is a lot of sort-of-mostly-canon build up to this one. All the steamy stuff is at the end ;) But I promise it's worth it :)

This is AU (with cano-esque scenes, but I change it up a little bit to fit plot)

Rated M: Strong language/darker themes/BDSM/sexual content

I do not own Divergent or any related characters/situations

Characters may be ooc at times to fit plot

any scenes in italics is a dream. (not to be confused with thoughts. Dream scenes are ALL in italics, narrative included)

Enjoy :)

Tris inhaled sharply as she stepped into the training room, her eyes darting to the board. She bit her lip, her stomach flipping as she looked to her name. 22, she thought, her name still in the red. Tris stalked forward slowly as her eyes glanced to where he stood—cold eyes locked on some other point in the room. She couldn't stop her mind from wandering back to the other night, his warm hands exploring her body as he moved inside her. It didn't hurt to move or walk, but she was still tender. She shook her head as she glanced back to him, gasping a little as his silvery-blue orbs locked on her.

His face was like stone, his eyes a blue glass and jaw rigid. She stared back at him, heat coloring her cheeks, until Christina nudged her shoulder. Tris blinked a few times before looking back to Christina, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't worry about that jack-ass. He's probably still butt-hurt over the knife-thing the other day," she said, her eyes rolling.

Tris nodded, her lip between her teeth. "Yeah."

"First fight: Peter versus Tris," Eric yelled, his voice booming in the training room.

Tris' body froze, her veins running cold. She lifted her eyes to meet his, cold and unmoving. She exhaled quickly, Peter already dancing in the ring—his dark orbs gleaming to her.

"It's Eric," Christina spat. "He's just trying to get back at you."

Tris started making her way to the ring, her eyes lingering on Peter before flashing to Eric—her gut churning. "Yeah." Her foot was hovering over the mat when something rough wrapped around her arm. Gasping, she turned around, Four's dark-blue orbs boring into her own.

"Remember what I said about attacking?" Four asked, his voice low. "First shot right to the throat, and you watch him." His eyes flashed to Peter for a moment before returning to Tris. "He steps before he punches. Alright?"

Tris nodded before stepping into the ring, Peter's lanky frame hopping from foot to foot. "You alright there, Stiff? You look like you're about to cry," he sneered, his lips twitching up in a sideways smirk. "I might take it easy on you if you cry."

Tris exhaled slowly as she circled him, his smirk never leaving his lips. She glanced down to his feet, his right foot twitching before stepping forward. She looked back up and slid to the right just as his fist darted out, narrowly missing her. Taking a deep breath, she turns to face Peter once more and gets into fighting position.

"Come on, Tris," Christina chanted.

Her eyes lock on Peter, his jaw rigid, eyes dark, lips pursed. Finally lost that smirk? They circle one another for another moment before she caught movement down below, his right foot stepping forward again. She took a step back as he lunged, but before he could pull his arm back and strike again, she let her fist fly. She watched his eyes widen in shock, his breath stuttering out as he clutched his throat. She stepped back as Peter coughed a bit before regaining his footing.

She swallowed hard as his dark orbs land on her, his jaw clenched as he lunged forward. She dodged his left swing and lashed her arm out, his body swinging back to avoid her hit as his right fist punched her ribs. Tris winced as she stepped back, her arms going to protect her side as he slammed his fists down. She gasped as she lost her footing, the mat meeting her side as pain rippled through her body.

She looked to Peter as he loomed over her, his smirk returning. "Get up," he spat, his dark orbs gleaming.

She stayed on the mat a while longer, Peter returning to dancing from foor to foot. She heard a throat being cleared behind her, her eyes looking over her shoulder. She suppresses a shudder as his ice-like eyes glowered at her. He glared at her a moment longer before turning to Peter. "Come on," he said, his voice sounding bored. "Stop playing with each other." His eyes flash back to Tris, her veins freezing as she trembled beneath his stare.

She narrowed her eyes, her mind playing tricks on her. She could have sworn Eric nodded to her, his eyes almost softer. She shook her head as she got herself up. I'm going crazy. She put her fists back up, her heart beating against her chest as Peter stepped to her again. She blocked a hit instead of dodging, her arm stinging as his fists knocked her down. The world shifted once more, her head smacking against the cold mat. She lifted her head up slightly, her eyes trying to blink her vision clear. The room was vibrating, a tall figure stalking out of the room. A strange feeling was swirling in her gut—a dark shadow hovering in the corner of her eye. She twisted her head, the cold from the mat seeping into her bones as Peter's figure stood above her—his features cast in darkness as his foot lifted into the air. She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes refusing to shut as his foot rushed towards her. Then there was nothing.

The snap of the scissors was sharp in her ears as she sat perfectly still, her falling hairs tickling down her arms. Tris leaned her head back as her mother's nimble fingers worked her hair into a bun—her skin pulling back as she twisted her hair tight. She heard the panel slide back and glanced to her mom, her smile warm and eyes bright. Sighing, she glanced to the mirror—her eyes slate-blue. She snorted softly. Slate-blue—like his eyes. She took a closer look and shook her head. Not like his eyes. Her eyes aren't as cold as ice—stone-like orbs glowering down at her. They were as warm as her mother's—but there was something more. There was a fire behind her eyes, a small but powerful spark waiting to ignite.

Tris lurched forward with a start, wincing as she leaned back down onto the bed—her ribs bruised and head throbbing slightly. She blinked her eyes open, Christina and Will staring down at her. Tris offered a weak smile, Christina's eyebrows shooting up.

"Wow," she said. "You look...you look bad."

"How long have I been here?" Tris asked softly.

"About a day," Will chimed in, his lips turned down a little.

Tris' eyes widened as she lurched forward, ignoring the hot pain tingling through her body. "A day? Have you seen the scoreboard? Where am I?" Panic was bubbling up her throat, her veins hot and world spinning a little as she sat upright.

"You're below the line," Christina said, her voice low.

Tris shrunk back a little, her heart beating against her chest before she tilted her head to the side. "Why are you wearing those vests?" Her eyebrows were knitted together as she looked them over, black bullet-proof-like vests around their bodies.

"War games," Will said matter-of-factly.

Tris scoffed as she swung her legs over the bedside, her hand pressing against her temple as the room began to shift. "What are you doing?" Christina asked as she steadied Tris, her eyebrows raised.

"I'm coming."

Christina frowns. "You can't."

"Eric says you're done," Will said.

"What?" Tris asked, her voice light. She siat back on the bed, her body numb. What?

Will sighed as he continued. "He says that you're out. Your father is on the council, Tris. Maybe they'll make an exception and let you go home."

Tris was chewing on her lower lip, the taste of copper filling her mouth. "I'm sorry, Tris," Christina whispered almost sadly.

"We gotta go. We'rer going to miss the train."

"Yeah, okay," Christina said as she wrapped her arms around Tris. Tris leaned into her embrace. "Bye."

"Bye," Tris said. She looked to Will, his lips turned down. "Bye." Tris sat there for a moment, tears prickling behind her eyes. He says I'm done? She thought back to the other night—his hands on her and their lips molding together. I'm so stupid. I let him do that to me. She sucked in a deep breath to keep her sobs at bay before her fists clenched at her sides. She ignored the hot pain tingling in her wrists as her hands balled up into tight fists, anger sizzling beneath her skin. He did that to me. She wanted to scream and punch something—punch him. He did that to me and made me fight Peter when I wasn't ready. And now he says I'm out?! She bit her lip, her heart drumming up her throat as her feet touched the floor. Without another thought, she raced out of the room—her legs carrying her as fast as they could.

Her ribs were on fire as she sprinted through the compound doors, hissing as the cold air encased her hot skin. She watched the train begin to pull away, groaning as she forced her legs to pump faster.

She gasped as a head peeked out of the train-car door, dark-blue eyes narrowed at her. She exhaled through her nose as her head leaned down, the wind whipping her hair behind her as she caught up to the end of the train. Tris clenched her jaw, her mind too scattered to focus on the pain rippling through her body—her burning thighs and stinging ribs. She glanced to the side-rail, her legs trying to get her closer when Four's hand flashed before her. She glanced to him once before grabbing his outstretched hand, grunting as she bumped her head into his chest as he hauled her into the car.

"Thank you," she said, her voice strained. He looked at her a moment before walking away, Christina and Will walking up to her with wide eyes.

"Hi," Christina said, her eyebrow quirked and lips pulled into a small smirk.

"Hi," Tris breathed, her hands clutching her ribs.

"What are you doing here?" Will laughed, his eyes filled with something warm—pride, maybe.

Tris took a deep breath. "I just figured that I—I had to make it."

She smiled a wide grin until a shadow hovered over her. She glanced to her right, his glacier-like orbs staring her down. "Who let you out?"

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to punch him, but she couldn't muster enough anger—not when he looked down at her like that and her gut was pinching and churning in that funny way. "I did."

"You did?" he asked, his eyebrows quirked. His eyes began to travel up and down the length of her body, her skin tingling against his gaze. She felt heat color her cheeks, her eyes narrowing as his lips pulled up at the ends into a small smirk. "Okay." Something dark flashed in his eyes for a moment before he walked off.

Tris let out a deep breath and looked over to Four, a small smile on his face. "Let's sit down," Christina said as she wrapped her arm through Tris'.

They sat down on the train as Four got up, his eyes scanning everyone. "The game is simple. Just like 'capture the flag'."

"Weapon of choice," Eric stated as he whipped out a small, slim gun.

"You call that a gun?" Molly snickered.

Tris watched Eric load something small into the gun and aim it at Molly. He pulled the trigger and it hit her leg. Molly fell over onto the floor of the train, screaming in pain. Eric stalked up to her and yanked it from her leg, holding it between his fingertips. "Neurostim dart," he said, his voice as cool as water. "Simulates the pain of a real gun shot wound. Only lasts a couple of minutes." Tris stared at the dart, dots of red decorating the metal rods sticking out from it. "There will be two teams. Four and I are captains."

"You pick first," Four said.

"Okay," Eric shrugged. "Edward."

Four nodded slowly. "I'll take the stiff."

Tris lowered herself in her seat as a few snickers echoed on the train. She glanced to Eric, his orbs locked on her. His jaw was rigid as he glowered at her, her spine trembling under his gaze before he looked back to Four—his lips pulling up into a smirk. Tris raised her eyebrows. He can change his demeanor that quickly? "Oh. Picking the weak ones so you'll have someone to blame when you lose?"

She glared at him, his eyes gleaming towards Four as his smirk widened. "Something like that," Four scoffed.

Tris huffed as they jumped from the train, wincing as she regained her balance on the ground. "Where did Eric's team go?"

"They must have gone to the end," Will stated as they walked forward.

"Alright, lights off. Gather round, come on," Four shouted. Everyone shut off their lanterns and stood in a small circle. "Okay, what's your strategy?"

"Uh...we can either hide flag behind the wall so they can't find us," someone said. Tris narrowed her eyes at the Dauntless-born, his features bold and dark.

"We send out a team to scout the location, see if we can find their flag," Will suggested.

"I say we blitz them. Just beat them with sheer force," a boy, Erza, said—his voice as bright as his eyes.

"That's the best way to lose quickly," Will countered.

"Let them come to us. We don't know where they are," another one chimed in. Tris sighed as she looked around the ruins, the cold breeze tickling her warm skin.

"Okay, we're gonna split into two groups. Defense and offense," Christina said, her voice thick and stern.

"Who put you in charge?"

"Someone has to make a decision."

Tris looked to the group as they argued, watching their breath mist in the air. Her eyes flashed to Four for a moment, his mind seemingly elsewhere. With a sigh, she looked back in the other direction—a huge, circular machine tilting just behind the buildings. Inhaling sharply, she began to walk towards it.

It didn't take long for Tris to reach her destination. Her fingers wrapped around the first rung on the ladder, the metal cold against her skin. She inhaled sharply before climbing up, the metal creaking beneath her weight.

"You're not gonna jump, are you?" Four called out from below.

Tris glanced down, his eyes wide as he looked to her. "No, I'm just trying to get a good vantage point." She turned back around and began her climb once more, her eyes looking to the shaking carts every now and then.

"Good thinking."

She heard the creak of metal and glanced down, Four's frame following her up the ladder. "You don't have to come with me."

"You should go easy, you took a beating."

Tris rolled her eyes as her veins heated up, anger boiling in her stomach. "I'm surprised you noticed. I saw you leave during the fight."

"Yeah, well. It's not something I wanted to watch." Tris rolled her eyes again, her foot pushing down on a rung as she stepped up. She gasped as the crack echoed all around her, air rushing past her as her body slipped down. His hand gripped her hip, his fingers smoothing over her exposed skin as he helped her regain her balance. "You good? You okay?"

She nodded as she stepped up and away from him, his warmth too different and not at all what her body was craving. "Yeah, I'm fine." She continued to climb when his voice carried up to her, his tone clipped.

"This is high enough."

Tris looked around and shook her head. "No, we need to go higher." She began to climb again, her eyes glancing back down to Four—his body frozen in place. "You alright?" He didn't answer her. His eyes flashed around him, his lips pursed and knuckles white as his fingers gripped the rungs tightly. "You're afraid of heights."

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"I didn't think you were afraid of anything." Tris snorted as she turned back around, her limbs carrying her up the ladder—a small smirk on her lips as the sounds of his feet hitting the rungs behind her echoed on the wind.

"Come on, Tris." Four groaned as she continued to climb. "Really? Are you even human?"

Tris stopped and wrapped her arms through the rungs, her eyes closed as a gentle breeze washed over her skin. She smiled as Four reached her, his frame on the opposite side. "This isn't so bad."

Four glanced down, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Yeah."

Tris looked around and squinted in the darkness, a blob of green color shining in a tall building. "Look. There it is."

Four smiled at her, his eyes bright in the moonlight as they began their climb down.

Four and Tris joined the group, their eyebrows riased and quiestions on their lips. Four held his hand up to silence them, his eyes darting to Tris. "Alright, what's your plan?"

"We'll split into two groups. We'll go up the right side and leave the rest of you to engage Eric," Tris said.

Four nodded. "Let's go get that flag."

They traveled in their selected groups, their breaths as silent as their footfalls as they approached the metal-like maze before them.

"I can see them!" someone shouted.

"Go, go!" Four yelled.

"Light 'em up!" Eric bellowed, flares igniting the darkness in a crimson glow.

Four turned to Tris as the rest of their team engaged Eric's. "Follow me. Go." They followed Four until he came to a stop, his eyes flashing to Tris. "Go."

"Christina." Tris looked to her friend as they moved to the right. They get split up by a metal divider when Tris heard Christina gasp. "Tell me if this hurts," Peter sneered.

Tris lined her gun up to Peter's back. "You tell me."

Peter turned around just as she pulled the trigger, his legs buckling as he hissed in pain. "Bitch!"

"Asshole," Christina muttered as she shot him again, a yelp on his tongue as they made their way into the building "That was awesome." They ran to the tower steps, the ladder narrow. "Go, Tris. I'll guard."

Tris nodded once before stepping up the ladder. She pushed the hatch door open, Molly's gun pointed at her. They shot darts back and forth until their guns clicked empty. Grunting, Tris opened the hatch door and kicked Molly down—her face contorting in pain as her head hit the wall. Tris grabbed the green flag and walked to the window, her arm waving it in the air—a bright smile on her face. The smile wavered only slightly as her eyes settled on Eric, his eyes like a blue fire as the flares ignited his bold features.

Tris couldn't sleep, her body was too awake—her skin too warm, like a thousand little fires dancing on her skin. She padded her way through the compound, her feet walking aimlessly. She had a ghost of a smile on her lips as her fingers ran along the stone-walls—the edges sharp against her skin. We did it, she thought as she remembered everyone cheering for them—for her.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts as she stepped down the hall that she hadn't noticed the shadow just ahead of her—until their forms bumped into one another. Tris shook her head as her body fell to the ground, pain stinging her back as she looked up—his cold eyes staring down at her. "Eric." He made no move to help her stand, her lips puffing out slightly as she made her way back onto her feet. "What are you doing?"

He looked her over quickly. She bit her lip, her fingers pulling at the dingy-gray shirt she wore to bed—her pants too loose. "Come with me, initiate."

Tris followed him down a long series of halls, her legs working overtime to keep up with his long gait. She tilted her head as they stood in front of a door, his fingers pushing in the code before twisting the handle. She stepped into the room as he flipped a switch, everything illuminating. I'm in an aparment, she thought as she took in the black couch and small kitchen area. She watched Eric slip off his shoes and grab two small glasses before pulling out a wide bottle—caramel colored liquid swirling in it. I'm in Eric's aparment. "Why am I here?"

Eric popped two ice cubes into the glasses before pouring the liquid over them. She watched it splash over the sides, the browns swirling in the dim light. He brought one of the glasses to his nose, swirling the glass before sniffing. "That was really something earlier, Tris." She sucked in a deep breath, her mouth dry. "I mean, you need to work on your fighting skills—but—you got on that train." His eyes flashed to her, holding her gaze as he brought the glass to his lips and tossed the drink back. "And then the war games," he chuckled. "You should have been on my team." He stared at her for a long moment before nudging the other glass to her.

"I don't want any, thanks."

His lips twitched up. "I wasn't asking for your permission."

"Eric—"

"Drink." She let out a deep sigh, her fingers wrapping around the cold glass. She brought it to her lips, her heart drumming up her throat as his form moved to stand behind her. His hands wrapped around her waist, fingers digging into her hips. "You'll feel much better. And it'll help you sleep," he whispered in her ear, her body shivering as his breath tickled her skin.

Taking a shaky breath, she tilted her head back and let the drink slither down her throat—warm and bitter on her tongue. She shook her head and coughed, flicking her tongue out to get rid of the taste. She turned around in his embrace, his hands leaving her body to grip the table on either side of her. "That was gross."

His lips twitch up, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, people don't always drink for the taste of it." She nodded softly, her cheeks heating up as he looked down at her. "Go down that hall," he nods his head in the direction behind her. "The second door on the right. Go through it."

She didn't even think about leaving, her eyes never glancing back to his front door. As soon as he lifted up his arm to free her from his hold, her legs began to walk down the hall. Her lip was between her teeth as she pushed the door open, her stomach doing flips as she walked into the room. It was his bedroom—a nice-sized bed in the middle with light-blue sheets and a black comforter. She glanced to the wall, a small bookshelf filled with various books stood in the corner. She heard the door click shut and she turned around, her eyes locking with his. "Why am I here?"

"Take off your clothes," he said, his voice thick.

She shivered, his authoritatove tone tightening her core. Her fingers were trembling as they gripped the hem of her shirt, her cheeks pink as she lifted it off. His eyes never left her face as she slid the rest of her clothes off, her arms going to cover herself. He had begun to strip his own clothes off, his hands lifting his shirt over his head. His eyes flashed to her as her arms covered her breasts. He shook his head, his jaw clenched as he slid out of his pants. Tris quickly put her arms down at her sides, his eyebrow quirking as a small smile slithered across his lips. "What are—"

"Turn around and lean over the bed." She hesitated, her gut pinching as she watched his blue orbs darken. "Turn around." She inhaled sharlpy as she did as he said, her hands spreading over his soft blanket as she leaned forward. "Good girl," he whispered as she heard the rustle of fabric. She stayed like that for a bit, perched over his bed—waiting. She felt his eyes on her but there was nothing else, no warmth from his body or touch.

She opened her mouth to speak when a cry bubbled up her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as pain rippled through her bottom. He smacked her ass again, her body lurching forward as the sound echoed all around her. Her fingers clutched his sheets in a grip of death as his hand raked across her back-side—guttural grunts falling from his lips. Her moans were clipped and breathy, tears prickling behind her eyes as her ass stung from his whip-like touch.

"You're so fucking weak," he scoffed, his hands alternating between massaging and rubbing her ass to smacking it red and raw. "You lost your fight with Peter. I fucking gave you the opportunity to punch that little shit in the dick—and you lost." Her mind was too scattered to dwell on his words, she could only focus on the hot pain that tingled on her skin as his hand hit her bottom again and again. "But then you fucking got on that train. After everything you went through, all that pain, and you didn't give up." Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands smoothed over her ass, a hiss on her tongue as he massaged her raw skin. "And the war games. You fucking beat me." She winced as his hand slapped her ass harder than he's done before, her body lurhcing forward until her face connected with his pillow. "You were amazing, though. You got through without getting hit by the darts." His fingertips rubbed her skin softly, a breathy moan on her tongue as she inhaled his scent from his pillow—all earth and musk. "But you beat me." His hand smacked her ass again and she cried out, the sound muffled by the pillow.

She laid there as his hand smacked her ass numb, her skin tingling as he pulled her hips up more. She couldn't hold back the moan when his finger dipped into her, pumping in and out and hitting a special spot—her toes curling and breath hitching. His finger left too soon, though, and she groaned softly in protest—his quiet chuckle cascading down her ear canal. She twisted her head to peer at him, his fingers gripping her hips as he lined himself up with her. His eyes locked with hers, as deadly as ice, as he thrust inside her. Her fingers were wrapped up in his sheets, his scent all around her as he pumped inside her, his gutteral growls mixing with her breathy moans.

Her core was beginning to unravel when she gasped, one of his hands rubbing up her body—goosebumps prickling her skin. He pinched her nipple and kneaded her breast for a moment before gripping her throat. She swallowed hard as he pulled her back, her skin flush against his. He held her there, his hand around her throat, as he plunged deeper inside her—his breath tickling the shell of her ear. He tightened his grip, his teeth nipping at her earlobe as his other hand snaked down her body—rubbing near her entrance. Tingles shot through her veins, a moan on her tongue as her walls clamped down around him.

Her body was shaking, shivers tingling up her spine as his fingers laced around her throat—her head lulling back between his neck and shoulder. He thrust harder, his other hand pinching and rubbing furiously as her body grew rigid, spasming before going slack. His grip on her throat tightened as his other hand went back to hold her hip, pushing her back down on him to meet each of his thrusts. He moaned in her ear, his throbbing member pulsing between her walls before stilling. He was panting hard, his breath tickling her skin as she rose and fell in time with his breathing—his heartbeat drumming against her back. He gently laid her on his bed before climbing next to her. She was on her side, her back to him as a deafening silence filled the room. Tris was bitng her lip, her heart drumming up her throat as she opened her mouth to speak. "I still don't understand what this has to do with being a soldier."

Silence stretched between them before he let out a small sigh. "Soldiers follow orders, don't they?"

"Yes."

She gasped as his arms wrapped around her, his body flush against her back. "And you've done pretty well so far. You've listened to me, to my commands." Her breath hitched as his mouth latched onto her neck, her back arching into his touch as a breathy moan escaped her lips. "Though not without question." His teeth nip her skin, a hiss on her tongue. "We're going to have to work on that, Tris." She shivered as his warmth left her for a moment, the bed shifting under his weight. Darkness enveloped the room as he turned off the light, the bed shifting once more as he returned to his former position—his body pressed against hers. Tris couldn't help the shiver that passed through her, his warmth spreading through her veins like a wildfire.

There we have it :) Second part down. Idk how many it will have but when I do, I'll mark that in the description box.

Hope y'all enjoyed that one!

I'm going back to my regular stories this week. Bite that Binds, TLAMLY, and Burning Roses are getting new chapters :) And (Don't You) Forget about Me is getting a sequel (but only one)

follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!

Until next time, bye-bye! :)