Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I pick Tris up and carry her to my room. She passed out on the way to it, and who can blame her. That girl had so much to go through the last couple of days.

I lay her down on my bed, a blond strand of hair falling on her face as I cover her up with a blanket. Hopefully she will be fine. Knowing that her friend attacked her like that. He wasn't the only one though, Peter was there too. Peter. An idea crosses my mind and just like that I'm out of the room.

I walk down the hallways, my feet guiding me to Peter's room on autopilot.

When I slam the door open I see Peter standing in front of the sink, cleaning out a wound on his bruised cheek. His shirt is on the floor and I see his muscles tense as he sees me standing in the door frame. “What the fuck are you doing here, Four? Shouldn't you be worrying about the bi-” I launch at him, push him against the wall before he can even finish his sentence. I don't let him call Tris a bitch.

Peter tries to punch me, but I cut off his air with my arm and he stops. The fear in his eyes, that he was probably trying to hide before, is now clearly visible, and he looks almost pleading. No mercy. I remind myself as I start punching his stomach. My fist meeting his sweat-covered skin, countless times, my knuckles turning red from the friction. But then I realise that Peter's pants sound a bit weird. He doesn't sound like someone who's afraid anymore, but like someone who's enjoying what's being done to him. The obvious bulge in his sweatpants only confirms that.

“Are you fucking turned on by this?” I ask him, my face just inches away from his, his breath like a ghost on my lips.

There was a split second before Peter nodded, and in that second I saw myself in him. Memories came up that I hoped I would forget, the memories I don't even encounter in my fear landscapes anymore, but here in this position of power, being able to do anything I want with the boy, they come flooding back, and I know only one way to stop them.

I take my free hand and rub it over the fabric of his sweats, squeezing Peter's bulge every now and then. “So you like that, huh?” This time my voice drops, unintentionally sounding husky, making him shiver. “Then you gonna love this.” I growl as I press my lips against his. There's restraint in him, he's fighting with himself as if he isn't sure what to do next but eventually he gives up and opens his lips to let me slip in my tongue.

There are so many questions but none of them seem important right now. What matters is that I am doing it again and that Peter just intentionally made me bleed so he can lick it up. “You're sick, Hayes.”

"Tell me about it."

Even though a part of me is enjoying all this way too much I remind myself why I came here. To punish him, and if there's one thing I learned from my father, it's that there's never too much punishment, so I break up the kiss, much to the dislike of Peter, and turn him around, twisting his wrists in the process. “Four, what the fuck?!”

Without answering I pull down his pants, revealing his soft-looking ass. Fuck.

At the sound of me taking off my belt he tries to get free, unsuccessfully. “Please, don't. ” I swear this time he sounded like he had tears in his eyes. No mercy.

Hearing the sound of leather on skin makes my dick twitch and I feel my erection growing with the screams and yelps that come out of the boy's mouth. “Never. Hurt. Tris. Again.” I bark, hitting harder after every word. “Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes sir!” He cries out, breaking into silent tears. That's it. I can't take anymore.

I throw away the belt and turn him around. He is covered in sweat, bruises and blood, and what's more important, he's still crying. I broke him. The whole tough-guy-from-Candor act is gone and all that's left is the human behind Peter. “Are we done?” He sobs out, and I want to say yes, but it's not over yet, and my cock agrees. No mercy. I grab his chin hard, making him cry out again, as I lick away the tears from his cheeks, the salt and blood-taste filling my mouth.

I let go one of his arms while I pull him into another kiss. If I wouldn't live with my dad when I was younger I'd be surprised that Peter isn't fighting against it anymore, but I know this behaviour. I know it, because the same was done to me. Break him. Use him. Make him want more.

Peter's hands go under my shirt, pulling it up more and more, pinching my nipples, scratching my chest. I help him out and take it off, revealing my body to him. “Has she ever...?”

I shake my head no, and I swear there is a hint of a smile on his face before he bites down on one of my nipples.

Again, I could loose myself in the pleasure but if I don't get to shoot my load in the next minutes Peter might get worse than bloody cheeks and sprained bones. “Peter. I'm gonna fuck you now.” At that the boy shivers once again, and without being told he opens the zipper of my jeans, pulling out my dick. “Always going commando?” He coos, wrapping his fingers around it.

I only push his hand off, not allowing him to gain control, before pining him down on the floor, making him gasp in pain.

I lick three of my fingers and slowly push them inside the boy's hole, which is answered by squeals and gasps of pain and pleasure (even though those lines are pretty blurred when it comes to Peter). “You know, I have lube stashed under my bed.”

“Don't fucking care. It's meant to hurt.” I growl as I force myself inside of him. Too easy. A virgin would be tighter. “Have you been fucked before, Hayes?”

Peter seems to enjoy it all too much, though, because it takes me two more times to finally get out of him that Eric has been paying him a visit a couple of times.

The thought of Eric fucking the living hell out of Peter makes me angry. “You didn't think that was worth mentioning?” I yell into his ear, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. “You made me fuck you after Eric's dirty dick was inside you?” I push my fingers inside of Peter's mouth, muffling his screams. He's crying again and his teeth will probably leave marks on my fingers for a while but anger and lust taint me as I fuck Peter until my body spasms, my muscles contract and I fill his hole with my cum.

“Remember that this will happen every time you hurt Tris. Or any of her friends.” Is the last thing I say to Peter as I close the door to his room, immediately regretting my actions. No mercy...

Chapter Text

The last couple of days were more than bizarre. For the first time in a while I have thought that the thing with Tris was something special and that maybe I could finally forget about the past, even stop visiting my landscape every day, but since the thing with Peter I can't help but feel... guilty? Confused? I don't know. I wanted to apologize to him for what I've done but he changed training groups, avoided me during lunch brakes and I am not sure I can go to his room without wanting to punch myself in the face repeatedly.

“Four? Is everything alright?” Even now, after all that happened she cares for me. A blond strand falls out of place again and a couple of days ago I'd put it back in place but now every time I touch her it feels wrong, somehow.

“Yeah, just- I have to do something. Excuse me.” I stand up and leave the hall. Everyone is happy and loud, the death of Al already forgotten, and the fear of the last test hanging in the air.

As I turn right, into a small passage way leading to one of the exits I hear footsteps behind me. Please don't let it be Tris running after me. I can't talk to her anymore. Not now. Before I can turn around I feel something cold and heavy hitting my head, and hear Eric's barking laugh before I pass out.

* * *

My head feels heavy and a radiating pain makes it almost impossible to do anything, really. It's hard enough for me to open my eyes, the light too bright, painful. What the hell happened and why can't I move?

After adjusting to the brightness, I realize I'm in a small room, my arms and legs bound with ropes to the cold wall behind me, and it appears like I have nothing on besides my socks and black boxer briefs. What the fuck? And since when does Dauntless even have rooms like those?

Before I even get a chance to try to escape, out of nowhere a door slides open and a big, bulky man walks through it. “I see tat you woke up, Four.” The hate and spitefulness that he puts behind my name is so strong, it can only be one person. “What the hell are you doing, Eric?”

The man stops only inches away from me. I can smell the sweat on his body, the alcohol on his breath.

He takes out a hunting knife and puts it against my neck, the cold steel stinging my jugular. “I knocked you out and brought you to the Divergent cells.” At that my heart skips a beat. Does he know? If so, how did he find out? No, he can't possibly know it. “Why?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn't break.

“Peter told me about your 'punishment' and I want fucking revenge.”

I let out a breath, relieved it's only because of Peter. Not that Eric's revenge won't be bad, in the end it's still Eric, but it will most likely not be as bad as death. “Eric stop, you're drunk.”

“Oh I know,” he laughs “I planned some fucked up shit and even I need a drink before I do it with you.”

He trails the knife up to my cheek and cuts, deep. Warm blood trickles down my chin only to be caught by Eric's wet tongue.

The man licks all the way up to the wound, slurping on the fresh blood, moaning like it's the best thing he drank in his entire life, and I can't help but to moan, both from pleasure and pain.

When Eric pulls away I can see his blood red lips, and his dilated pupils. “You taste great Stiff. Let me get some more.”

I pull against the ropes in protest, but it only makes my wrists hurt more, and besides there's that little voice in my head again, asking if I even want to escape? But why shouldn't I want to. Yet...

Eric shrugs off his vest and slowly pulls the tight shirt over his head, rubbing his hands over his chest and stomach and fuck is he doing a show for me? “That way you can enjoy it a little more.”

He's right. Seeing his shirtless, tattooed body shifting in the dim orange lighting, as he runs bloody hands over his abs, groping his bulge through tight black jeans. “Fuck.” I pant, not able to hold it back any longer.

And just like that he's back at me again, cutting small spots on my chest, my arms, my neck, before he sucks away the warm liquid, trailing his fingers over my back. “Always wondered what you taste like?” He asks me, but before I can give an answer he smashes his mouth against mine. The kiss is sloppy, needy and fucking hot. Eric's possessiveness and the way his knee grinds against my bulge- Fuck.

“You really are stiff, Stiff.” He laughs at his own joke as he buries his face in my armpit, sniffing and sucking the sweat out of my hair.

And just like with Peter the memories are coming back. Father standing there. Pulling my arms up to kiss my pits, to lick the soft skin- “No!” I cry out, somehow kicking my knee against Eric's groin, making him step back with pain. There's anger in his face, and I know I screwed up completely.

He takes off his belt, letting his pants fall to the ground before he takes them off completely.

The belt buckle clashes against my body, the pain making me nauseas but in the end everything's better than the memories. "Will-" smack "You-" punch "Behave?” I don't know when he stopped hitting me but he did and I nod. “Are you done?”

“With that, yes. With you, not yet.”

He takes a step back, like an artist appreciating his work. “You're a bit bloody.” He states as he comes closer to lick up the dried blood, massaging his bulge in the process. Who knew pain mixed with pleasure could feel so good? I should have passed out by now or feel more pain but instead I'm gasping with half a hard on while Eric sucks on blood.

“Oh where are my manners,” he facepalms himself theatricality, “you probably want some too.” Then as simple as that he slices open the inside of his palm and presses it against my mouth. I open it before Eric decides it's necessary to smash in my teeth.

The metallic taste fills my mouth and Eric seems to be in a daze, grinning like an idiot. “Come on, suck on it.” That sounds even like a plea, so I suck, and in a weird and perverted way it feels good, I even can't help but to moan.

"Fuck yes. I knew you´d like it." He pulls his hand away and wipes it clean on my chest, and I catch myself gasping when he pulls it away. "And now it´s time for your punishment. Peter, you can come inside!"

Being all alone with Eric is okay, I can get used to that, but when Peter comes to the party everything can happen, and last time I checked I left him alone, crying in his room whilst lying on the floor. I practically raped him.

My heartbeat quickens and my lungs feel like they're about to burst any second. I feel the world spinning around me as I black out once again.

Chapter Text

I'm in my room, back in Abnegation, before the Choosing Ceremony, before I left the hell that was my life. Judging by my hands and, well, the rest of my body, I'm no older than 14 in this memory.

I hear the door creak open. A faint, orange beam of light illuminates my room, casting a big shadow of the tall, dark figure standing in the door frame. Dad.

“Hello Tobias.” Marcus whispers as he silently closes the door behind him. “It's time for daddy to tuck you in at night.” No I want to scream, but I can't do anything now.

Marcus is slowly undoing his pants, letting them fall to the floor, standing there, naked. He always told me he did it for me, go commando. “So you can touch yourself to the thought of daddy walking around like this.” He always said. Funny that it's one of the sick traits I inherited from him.

After taking a few steps in my direction he takes off his shirt as well, now completely naked and already half hard. “You know, now that mummy is not there you gotta take care of daddy.” he taught me. Screwed me up. Made me like it.

He sits down at the bottom of my bed, his manly smell pulling me closer to him as my teenage dick grows hard. The smell, god, how I loved his smell.

I always admired his hard, hairy body. Especially the soft chest and stomach hair that kept me warm some nights when he decided sleeping in one bed was enough. - Why does this feel so good. It shouldn't. I forgot about it. Everything was alright and now it's screwed up again.

I pick up daddy's socks and sniff them, rubbing a hand over my bulge, before taking off my pyjama shirt.

“Come here, baby boy. It's time.” he growls and I know what he means. I lay over his lap, and let him spank me. His bare hand hits my ass, once, twice, and I can't help but moan. At first he did it to vent some frustration after work but every time it got more and more sexual, and we ended up naked one time. I was crying and he was moaning and yelled “Fuck it. Fuck that.” and pushed my head in his crotch, telling me how fucked up I am, and if I tell anyone he'll say terrible things about me. And I started to love it eventually.

He stops hitting me, and I know it's time. I feel his hard-on and I stand up, just to lay down on the bed, ass spread out in his direction, already prepared to be pounded by his daddy cock. “You are a very good boy Tobias. A very good boy. ” and fuck, that always makes me leak some precum.

Daddy leans over my fragile, yet not trained, soft body and kisses me possessively, whispering that I'm his now. Always gonna be his. While he licks around my tongue he pushes in a thumb into my hole, then in my mouth, sucking at it with me. “Taste so good, baby boy.” He says before pulling back.

He pushes himself inside of me, thrusting his hips back and forth, hard and fast. Daddy's dick always felt like it was perfectly made just for my hole. In the end, we are family.

Marcus is grunting and growling like an animal in heat, fucking the shit out of me, making me scream and yell in pleasure. He grows more brutal with every thrust and I work against him to feel him even deeper.

Dad wraps his hands around my throat, his fat fingers digging into my skin, slowly cutting off my breath. Before I fully realize what's going on he fastens his grip and starts chocking me, while he pounds his cock inside of me. A mix of fear and arousal overcomes me and I feel my limbs go numb, my eyes fill with tears and I know that this is it. The last thing I feel before I black out is the warm seed of my dad filling my hole, and his tongue against my lips.

Chapter Text

I wake up with a scream, trying to catch my breath. A dream. It was all just a dream and I'm back now, still hanging from the ceiling with tied hands and feet, but this time at least in the middle of the room. “Finally you´re awake Four.” It's Peter, all cocky again. “I think Eric might have hit you a bit too hard.”

Eric only laughs at that, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I think it wasn´t a fucking problem for him, Peter. You know that you kept moaning in your dream, Stiff? I think you even said dad. Can we go on, Peter?”

The boy looks up and down my body, smirks and then nods. This obviously made Eric more than happy for he turned around and pulled Peter into a kiss. I see flashes of their tongues every now and then and I feel my erection press hard against my briefs. “He's all yours Peter.” Whispers Eric.

Peter goes into fighting stance and starts kicking and hitting me, using me like a human punching bag, until I spit out blood. I think this might be it. Maybe they will kill me... but Eric pulls Peter away, telling him that he shall stick to the plan or else he might get punished too.

The boy just grins and kisses Eric one more time. As he works himself down the man's neck Eric gasps. “Step o- ah, fuck Peter, stop biting! Step one, get Stiff, stiff."

I watch Peter taking a clamp off the table and placing it on Eric's nipple before going down on his knees to suck on Eric's leather briefs. The prurient sounds the boy starts making get me even harder and the blood rushing through my ears makes it almost impossible for me to hear Eric's obscenities. All I can think of right now is Peter's flushed lips going up and down Eric's thick shaft.

“Slow down there babe, you know what we planned. Better get the other one out of the cell.”

Not another one, please don't get anyone else involved, but its too late because Peter is coming back and he's dragging a brown haired boy, probably his own age, but... “Erudite?”

“Yeah, some boy we grabbed.” Eric chuckles dismissively. “And you'll fuck him.”

Chapter Text

Peter throws the boy over the table as Eric cuts open my ropes, letting me move freely. “Fuck him.” He growls. “And in reward we will fuck you.”

What. How does this make sense. I won't fuck someone just to get fucked by Peter and Eric, but on the other hand, seeing both of them naked, hard and willing, and with the fresh memories of my dad and a pulsating dick in my briefs... “Fuck it.” I whisper as I walk over to the anonymous boy.

“All lubed up and ready to go.” Grins Peter, “Just make him cum and we'll make you cum.”

Just make him cum. Easy.

Without asking I slowly push my dick inside of him, stretching his tight hole, The boy is struggling but Eric and Peter hold him down for me. I rock my hips back and forth slowly, with one hand reached around to jerk the boys already hard cock. “Enjoying yourself more than you lead on, huh?” I laugh, getting faster, squeezing harder, and just like that after a few thrusts the boy came all over the table, moaning into the sock that was stuffed into his mouth to keep him from screaming,

“Good job.” Says Eric, while swiping a bit off the boy's cum, to feed it to Peter, who licks it off eagerly.

They push the boy off the table as if he were nothing more than a replaceable toy, just to lean me over in his place. I know that I will regret everything tomorrow but right now all that matters is that Peter and Eric's cocks are both being pushed inside of me, stretching it further.

I can hear them making out behind me and I start pushing my ass back, against their moves, just like I used to with dad. It hurts but compared to everything I've been through tonight this is the best pain I have felt.

And just like that they both fill my hole with their cum, and I feel like I'm dying a thousand deaths and this is the first time I came just from being fucked.

I could stand up and run away now that its over and they are both sleeping, but that would mean I'd have to be able to a. walk properly b. find a door out of this weird cell and c. actually want to get out, which, in that moment, I don't.