#divergent eric coulter

[ghostedgrim]

Has anyone else noticed there's been a huge decline in fancfictions that have multiple parts with a storyline and/or don't contain smut/nsfw.

And I don't mean slow burns (Hell I haven't seen one in a year). So many fics these days are one-shot nsfw, multiple parts maybe with storyline but each chapter is smut.

Stories without the smut, or ones that are an actual multi-chapter slow burn, comfort, hurt-comfort, and such just don't seem to exist or when someone makes them it gets zero praise.

It's hard getting motivation because I'll make a post for a popular character/fandom but it'll get maybe 5 likes.

The lack of in depth story fanfics has made it hard to enjoy reading and writing fancfictions these days. I used to stay up all night reading 5-10 chapter long stories of a nsfw free slow burn, or intricate self-insert story.

Don't get me started on self inserts bro, they get so much hate. Gor forbid someone writes a story about their oc, especially if their character is shipped with a cannon character. I get you want a reader x character, but an oc x character are often so much fun simply because some people about COOK on their characters.

It seems the appreciation for fanfics has drifted from actual stories, to a crave to read porn.

[theaawalker]

A Run For Your Money [Eric x Reader]

Pairing: Eric x gender-neutral!reader Song Inspo: One Dance by Drake ft. Justin Bieber Word Count: 2,004 Summary: A new Dauntless initiate, y/n, captures Eric's attention. As trouble follows you, Eric is always nearby with a keen smirk. But you won't go down without a fight, promising to give the brutal faction AND instructor a run for their money. Warnings: violence, fighting, mentions of death Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Bam! Bam-bam, bam!

You are by yourself in the initiate training room beating on a punching bag. Today is one the rare days off that initiates get, and you chose to spend your time training. You made up your mind to transfer to this faction, so you did't intend to ease up on your pursuit until you make the cut. It seems that a group of female initiates were attracted by the punching sounds and have come to investigate. After seeing you, one of them attempts to show you how it's done.

Jace is bigger than her friends; one would assume that she was Dauntless born had the classes not been separated. She picks you up and throws you to the side, ready to set an example. You come back, jump and hock a leg around her neck, flipping her on her back to the ground. You land in a crouch, "Come on dude, don't be an asshole."

It's obvious that she nor her friends expected you to take her down. They thought that you would be intimidated like most of the other initiates, but Jace didn't hold her surprise for long.

"Well, that was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome." She pushes off the floor and hops to her feet. You rise up with her as they meet for a handshake.

"Jace, Candor."

"Y/N." You turn away from her to go drink from your water bottle. Jace watches you for a moment.

"Which faction are you from, Y/N?" She asks. You blink and drink from your bottle before setting it back down.

"That's not important." You say. Jace isn't satisfied with your answer and is about to ask you another question.

"I couldn't agree more." The girls stiffen and jerk around to face Eric, posted up like a soldier with a sadistic glare in his eyes. "Do any of you want to explain to me why you're not downstairs?" His voice is menacing and full of authority. Jace and her friends look at each other confused. One of them tries to respond, but she's a stuttering mess.

"Bu-but w-w-we uh, I thought um.. I mean, we uh-."

Eric, having heard enough, cuts her off, "Got it. I'll give you a chance to make it down there, and you'd better make it before I get back down there." The girls scramble past him and rush down the stairs. You hadn't moved, choosing to remain silent until they had gone.

"Isn't today our day off?" You look at Eric expectantly. You aren't surprised when he starts grinning at you.

"Correct." He's walking towards you while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then why did you scare them away?" He smirks at the question and sets his jacket down near your water bottle.

"I'll be your sparring partner for today." You blink slowly.

"Alright."

2 hours later, you and Eric are both sweaty on the mats, breathing heavily as you stretch together.

"Thanks for the workout." Eric was impressed with you, and he's looking forward to welcoming you into Dauntless.

"No problem, I really enjoyed it. Thank you." You didn't expect the offer, but you appreciated it. Eric isn't known to associate with initiates outside of making sure Four is training them properly. So, while surprised that he wanted to spar, you weren't going to say no.

He nodded his head at you, grabbed his jacket and walked away. You watched him leave, strutting out of the training room with such confidence. He didn't even look like someone who'd been in a fight. You honestly feel inspired. One day, you're going to really give him a run for his money.

[ time skip - visitng day ]

When visiting day rolls around, Eric doesn't see his source of amusement. He wanders into the training room to see you finishing a set of pull ups. He stands in the entry way watching you come down to stretch. You bend down to the front, holds it, and then bend back into a back-bend.

You see him but don't say anything. You don't know how long he's been standing there watching, but since he didn't say anything neither will you. You take a few minutes to quickly stretch your body before picking up your water bottle and walking away. You almost makes it past him, but he stretches out an arm to stop you.

"Not so fast." You aren't looking at him, but he's looking at you. "Why aren't you down there with everyone else?"

"There's no one down there for me." You walk around him, and he lets you go. He sees that you're upset, but it isn't his place to comment on it.

[ time skip - next day ]

Early the next morning, Eric comes across you doing laps around the training room. You pause at seeing him there.

"You want to run?" You nod, your chest heaving with your breathing. "Come with me." You look around, unsure if you should follow him.

"I have training in an hour." He smirks at you.

"I'll make sure you're back in time." You nod again and follow him.

They run to a cliff spot with a full view of the sunrise. You hadn't watched the sunrise since being in Dauntless; you missed it. You wonder if this could be a regular thing for you again.

"Ready to head back?" You nod. "Can I come here every morning?" He regards you for a moment before replying.

"If you remember the way."

They jog back together and make it just in time for Four's class. You head over to join the other initiates lined up. Eric walks past them, ignoring Four completely as he heads to take a shower.

The next morning, you're running back to the Dauntless compound, coming back from your sunrise viewing. You're definitely going to make it part of your routine to run there in the mornings. Halfway back to the compound, you see Eric running toward you. You pass each other, making eye contact but not exchanging words or stopping.

[ time skip ]

Despite their rocky start, you and Jace form a competitive friendship. You're often seen sparring with one another, or with Jace's friends. With individual training, you two are always trying to out-do the other. Friendly competition became a great way for the both of you to become and maintain high ranks among the initiates.

Lately, Four has the group randomly paired every day for mock fights in the ring. Somehow, you always get paired with one of Jace's friends. You haven't lost a fight yet thanks to all the practice you had with Jace. The friend, Byron, was the biggest initiate of the class, so taking down anyone else was easier for you. Bruised, blustered, and bloodied, you managed to beat him. Even Four was impressed, with Eric nodding and smirking like he predicted your victory. Byron seemed pissed as he limped back to his spot. The fact of Jace teasing him didn't make it any better. Perhaps that was the catalyst that led to this unfortunate event.

[ time skip - that night ]

You were already in bed while everyone else was at dinner. You're an early riser which also means you're an early sleeper. That particular day had tired you out more than usual, so you slept heavy enough for someone to pick you up, cradle-style, and carry you away.

The culprits? Three men disguised in all black and ski masks who tried to dump you over the chasm.

One of the Dauntless members on the cameras sees them. He's in the camera room watching them almost drop you over until you wake up suddenly. Kicking and punching, you swing around on the railing to kick one of your attackers in the head. He hits the back wall and falls unconscious. One of them somehow is shoved over chasm railing, while you punch the other one in the throat and head until they fall. You snatch off the masks of the remaining two, and your face crumbles. Hurt and betrayed to see two of Jace's friends. You recognize Byron, and knee on the other one's dick. He tries to cover himself, but you kick his head, hammering down on it with both feet. As a floored Byron and his accomplices groan, you spit on him as a final assault before you stagger up and stalk off.

Four and Eric coincidentally show up in the camera room while this fight was taking place. Four notices that particular camera feed as he glances around the room when he first walks in. He immediately zeroed in on it, coming closer as he sees the victim, who he recognized as you, wake up and fight off their assailants. Four flips out, snapping at the guy sitting in front of him for not reporting this.

Eric, at seeing Four agitated, walks over behind him to see you in action. He finds it humorous, not caring at all about the sorry excuse for an initiate that fell over. Lucky him that he died before Eric could get to him. Those other two would pay dearly for what they just attempted, then maybe after he's done with them will he allow them to die.

Four tries to go to the chasm, but Eric tells him to take care of the guy in front of him first. "It's over now; I'll take care of them."

Eric tells the swarming Dauntless members to get those two initiates in a holding room until he gets there. Eric left the room in search of you, but he couldn't find you. Unbeknownst to him, he passed your hiding spot -- a hallway vent -- several times, but you didn't want to reach out to him. You saw a mix of other Dauntless members and initiates milling around, and you didn't trust them. So, instead, you tucked yourself deeper into your hiding hole and slept.

[ time skip - the next morning ]

You return to your bunk after you've calmed down. Jace tries to approach you, but you flinch away from her. Who's to say she didn't orchestrate the attack? Shortly after, Four, with Eric right on his heels, sped into the room. He's relieved to find you there, and he asks if you could come with them.

You're called to a meeting with the Dauntless leaders, the parents of the dead boy, and for some reason, Jeanine Matthews. The child's mother accused you of killing her son.

"Your son tried to kill me." His mother vehemently denied it, until she's shown the video feed. Then, she flips her argument.

"But you're not dead, now are you?" You, done with the conversation already, looks over at her.

"Let me guess, you'd rather I be dead."

"Yes!"

"Tough." You turn your head, dismissing her.

Eric is full-on grinning as the mother is short circuiting. Jeanine, ever observant of Eric and his mannerisms, notices Eric's interest in you. Thus, Jeanine also takes an interest in you. Reviewing in her mind the initiate's combat skills, she shifts her eyes over to you, who is busy staring out of the window. You could be another Eric, a great soldier to carry out her plans.

After much debate, mainly from the parents' end, you are dismissed. Due to the video evidence of the boy being involved with trying to kill you, and that he was actually bumped over by one of the boys, you are exempt from any punishment.

After the meeting, Jeanine pulls Eric to the side. He instead takes her to his office to hear what she has to say. She asks Eric what he thinks of you, to which Eric responds with a mediocre answer. He doesn't want you involved in this, but it seems his tactic isn't working. Jeanine doesn't buy it after seeing the video, and she gives Eric instructions to introduce you to the plans and get you working under him. After, she excuses herself and leaves him alone to his thoughts.

After lunch, Four escorts you to Eric's office. Four warns him not to be mean to you, and Eric tells him to get the fuck out of his office. During your meeting with Eric, he tells you the rundown of what's going to happen after you've passed your initiation. He doesn't go into too much detail, in case you have too much of an adverse reaction.

After he's done explaining, you're blunt with him, "That's stupid." Eric looks at you, but you keep your eyes on his computer and continues, "It doesn't make sense. She wants to kill people to keep the peace. And these serums, it sounds like some mind control scheme."

You look at Eric. He sees that you're smart enough to pick up on what he didn't say.

"You don't believe her, right?" You ask him. "You know that she wants to make everyone, except a select few, into mindless slaves that do whatever she wants while she rules over everything. You know that she wants a dictatorship and not peace, right?"

You pause for a moment to hone in on his unfazed expression. "Or maybe you do know, but you don't care." You look at him for a few more moments before leaning up and looking away, taking a stroll around his office.

He contemplates life while you busy yourself with looking around his office. How didn't he think about what life would be like with everyone under her new serum? He thought that he'd be done with Jeanine, and he could do whatever he wanted with Dauntless. He didn't care about the other factions. He really doesn't care about the people, but there's not much enjoyment in bossing around mindless slaves who are programmed to do what they're told anyway. How weird it would be to walk down the halls and pass people that aren't really there. Yes, there'd be no more people to piss him off, but there'd be no idiot to amuse him either. No one to hold a conversation with; no one to ignore for being stupid; and no one to threaten and watch them cower.

At that moment, he realizes that he would be bored and alone with not a soul for company other than Jeanine and her lackeys. He grimaces at the thought and sees how unpleasant it would be. He feels ignorant for not seeing the whole picture and not thinking ahead. He's going to rectify that.

[ time skip ]

It took Eric a few weeks to get together his evidence of Jeanine's crimes and organize a trial in Candor. It was unavoidable for some of his skeletons to be exposed, but fortunately, they were overlooked in light of him turning Jeanine in. She was found guilt and set to be executed, which was done by Eric himself immediately after the sentencing.

You passed your initiation ranked #1, with Jace pulling up #2. It took you a while to feel comfortable around her again, but ultimately, it wasn't her who hurt you. Thus, it wasn't fair for you to shut her out. Plus, she physically defended you whenever one of the guys got too aggressive with you, which was a nice plus.

You were also set to start your job working under Eric. The paperwork had already been approved by the time Jeanine's plans were foiled. Also, Eric had taken to courting you. Speaking to you more and spending time with you. He wouldn't date you until after you passed initiation, but now that you had, you and Eric have been together for about 3 weeks now. He was currently taking you to meet his parents for dinner.

Five minutes in, and you were not having a good time. Still, at least there was free food. Eric's mother, Blythe, addressing you, asks yet another insulting question. "So, how long have you been sleeping with my son?"

"Blythe!" Eric and his father shout her name, but you ignore her.

"Not going to answer?"

"No, I don't see how that's any of your business."

Taken aback, Blythe seethes before responding. "My son is my business."

"Yea, you're such a great parent, so supportive of your son's choices." You hear her gasp as you sip your water, not giving her the attention.

"How dare you-"

"That's enough," Eric hisses at her. He's pleased that you're not intimidated by his mother, but he doesn't like her being insulted.

"Are you going to eat that?" Eric asks you, eyeing your plate. You cut the steak and broccoli on his plate and fork it before turning to offer it to him. You have your other hand underneath in case anything falls from the fork. He eyes you again and you blink at him expectantly. He leans in, his eyes boring into yours as he eats off your fork. You turn back to spear more food onto the fork before turning to repeat your actions.

"I can eat my own food." He says while leaning in.

"Then why didn't you?"

As the night goes on, you two pay no mind to his parents. Even though Eric's father seems to genuinely support him, you don't see any sort of relationship blossoming with him or his wife. Yet, judging by Eric's reaction to Blythe, you won't have to worry about pleasing her. Sweet.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[whiskeyswriting]

Natural | Chapter 4: Bring Me to Life

{ Masterlist }

📝A/N: Song lyrics incorporated will be in bold and blue. Flashbacks will be italicized. Any lines or scenes used from the books and/or movies will be done in green. I do not own the characters of the Divergent series. The credit for that goes to Veronica Roth for creating the series. As such, anything in green or blue are the intellectual property of their respective owners.

〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪

The kiss took you by surprise but you didn't push him away. instead, you pull him closer to you as you deepen the kiss.

“Eric… We can’t.” This time you gently push him away. “I’m just an initiate… Remember?”

“You’re more than just an initiate. You’re a spy. And a damn good one at that.”

“I am just an initiate. I can’t and won’t skip through the ranks.”

Eric steps back and starts pacing. “We can’t be seen together. And don’t think I’ll take it easier on you in training. As a matter of fact, I’ll make it more difficult.”

“I’d never expect anything different from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You take a step back and increase the distance between you. “You know exactly what I mean Eric. We have a mission to complete and we’re not here to make friends.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You have the chance to start over if anything goes wrong.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Eric… I’m the one that doesn’t get a promised future. You do. You’re already a faction leader.”

He starts following you in silence as you walk back to your shared sleeping quarters, where a few other initiates are still up.

“I better not find you training past scheduled hours again,”

“Or I’ll hang from the chasm. I know,” you roll your eyes at him. Suddenly, you feel him pulling you by your arm.

“Learn to respect your leaders or you’ll be one of the factionless of you don’t end up dead.”

You yank your arm back. “Have the sleep you deserve…. leader,” you respond, letting the last word drip with anger.

〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪

The next morning starts the last day of training for the physical part of your initiation. It felt like they were trying to weaken everyone for tomorrow’s testing. They had you run, lift weights, and do weapons training.

By the time you are having dinner, you feel as if your limbs are ready to fall off. In all honesty, you don’t want to shower but you do. Once the semi-warm water hits you, you feel the worry of the day leaving you.

No matter what number you land on tomorrow, you tell yourself the next half of initiation will be worse. Not only will others learn of your fears, but you also have to make sure to not let your secret slip into your fear landscapes.

It’s safe to say that you get little to no sleep that day.

〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪〽️🖤🔪

Much to your dismay and aggravation, the faction leaders come wake you all up earlier than normal, as part of the final training.

“We need to see how quick you all are in preparing for the unexpected,” Marcus calls out.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and are quick to change and head upstairs to the training area. There you find a few of the other initiates already waiting.

Once everyone is gathered, Eric stands in the middle of the crowd. “As a reminder from your first day, your ranking serves two purposes,” he says. “The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available.” 

You can hear the murmurs of surprise and nervousness of the others. You continue staring ahead, pushing aside the temptation to look at the current rankings.

“The second purpose,” he says, “is that only the top ten initiates are made members.” 

The glances are just as loud as the unspoken questions in the faces of the other initiates. Of course none of this was new to you. Yet, you maintained a stoic glance ahead. 

“There are eleven Dauntless-borns, and nine of you,” Eric continues. “Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test.” 

The leaders continue giving more instructions and directions on how the testing will be done and in what order. 

You end up in the middle of the order for each division: hand to hand combat, technology, and weapons. You focus to drown out the noises around you as you stay observing the instructors to learn their combat skills. 

Next thing you know, it’s your turn to fight against Eric. He smirks at you. “Think you can end above the cut off line?” He lunges at you but you’re quick to side step and cause him to stumble.

Instead of replying to him, which you noticed he was using as a distraction, you swipe at his legs then jump on him to pin him down.

He quickly throws you off his back and tries his best to pin you to the ground to get you to tap out but with each attempt, you move so that when he’s sitting back up, you can throw your leg across his chest and wrestle him back to the ground.

You both continue fighting for dominance on the training mat. Eventually, you cause Eric to tap out, much to the cheers of the other initiates. 

After a quick break once everyone has finished the first part, the leaders take you all outside for a five mile run along the city’s center and some ruins. You’re grateful you're able to take a small bottle of water.

As you’re reaching the halfway point of the course, you find that you’re running alone. There’s nobody ahead of you and the rest of the initiates are still behind you. You slow your pace to take a sip of water. 

When you pick up speed again, you feel a sudden sharp pain on your side. Thinking it’s a muscle cramp you continue to push through and keep running. Then you feel another sharp pain. 

At this you decide to massage your side. You feel something wet when you touch it. It’s not until you look down that you see the blood staining your hand.

Another sharp pain hits you. Except now you know it’s not a pain. It’s bullets that have hit you. This last one: dead center in your chest. 

You stumble forward, fighting from close your eyes and refusing to surrender. However, it feels like this is it for you. That you failed at your mission. 

As you lay on the ground, your eyes closed, you can feel life leaving you. Each second that passes, you find yourself weaker and weaker. You want your final thoughts to bring you comfort. You focus on remembering the words of a song you once read:

“Wake me up inside (save me) Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up) Bid my blood to run (I can’t wake up) Before I come undone (save me) Save me from the nothing I’ve become.”

The last thing you hear before it all fades away is Marcus walking over to you. “We got the spy. She won’t be reporting to anyone anymore.”

- -

🏷️ List: @taina-eny @ghostedgrim @biblophilefox82 @capricorn-anon @zhabahx @emma-andrea1 @l0nelygamer

[salstray]

No Vacancy

Eric Coulter x gn!reader fic

less then 1k words (951 if you want to be specific) WARNINGS: angst

No one is safe from progress. No one is safe from Erudite. No one is safe from the mindless Dauntless carrying out commands they can't even hear, but can only feel through the iron claws of the serum forcefully injected into their blood.

No one is safe.

Not even you, Eric's favorite.

--------------------------------------------------

Four was looking out the windows of the Prior home when he saw you.

Tris was upstairs, calling out to her mom and her dad, nothing but silence answering her, but you were out in the street. Dressed in black, a gun in your hand, your eyes blank and face slack. Enthralled by the simulation just like the rest of them.

He’d never admit to anyone how his heart sank at the sight.

Not even you were safe from this. You, Eric’s favorite. His poorly kept secret that all of the Dauntless knew about, but would never speak of. The one he’d sneak off to on lonely nights, the one he’d hunt down in the dark corners of the parties and the gatherings. You, who’d gone through initiation just a year after him and Four. Who’d stolen the black heart of their most ruthless leader yet with your strength, your fearlessness, and your bravery.

You. Injected and shipped off as a mindless puppet of war. Like you were nothing.

Four took a shaky breath, his jaw shifting and clenching at the anger that swelled within him. His head turned as Tris came back down the stairs, telling him her parents weren’t here. No one was. He cast one more glance out towards you just as you turned a corner and vanished from sight. Silently, he pitied you, but he didn’t have the time to show it. Nor did he ever think he’d get the chance to express it face to face.

God knows how you’d feel once you woke up. Once the simulation wore off or was shut down, if he and Tris did what he hoped they could.

------------------------------------------------

Eric rounded the corner, steps light, shoulders loose, only pausing once his eyes landed on you. His prize, his plaything.

His favorite.

You marched on, face empty, hands clenched around your weapon, eyes focused, but not on anything real. His hand came out as you approached and you stopped obediently in place, gaze fixed on something only you could see in the far distance. Behind him, Max stepped forward, sighing and shaking his head.

“No one’s safe, are they?” he asked, almost teasing.

“Not from progress,” Eric admitted. He reached forward, cupping your cheeks in his hands, brushing his thumbs under the circles of your eyes. If you were awake, you’d have smiled. All sweet and sugary. In a way that no one ever had when looking at Eric. He sighed softly when your eyes remained vacant. “You’ll understand though, won’t you?” he asked, now talking to you.

Max scoffed behind him, but Eric’s eyes stayed on yours, the only proof he heard his fellow leader being the slight tick of his jaw.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Max warned. Finally, Eric turned his sharp, gray eyes on the man behind him, frowning just far enough that Max knew his commentary wasn’t welcome. He scoffed again before shoulder passed both you and the man you called your lover in the past.

“I am sure,” Eric hissed, leaning in to press an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’ll understand, won’t you, sweetheart?” His fingers curled across the nap of your neck, his pinkies absentmindedly toying with the collar of your jacket. “This is all for the betterment of the city. Of the factions. A necessary evil, hm? How many times have we talked about those? You always told me you understood why they were important. Doing something bad in the name of the greater good , right? That’s what this is… and you’ll see that once you wake up, babe, I’m sure of it.” He leaned in again, lips barely brushing your crown, his eyes closing just long enough so he could enjoy the warmth of your flesh. The heat under your skin. One that he craved more then water, more then his own breath.

He’d tried to let you be awake for it all. Tried to fight for you to be one of the ones left unstuck, but they hadn’t trusted you enough, the others. Jeanine said you’d be a liability. Max said your loyalty didn’t run as deep as Eric thought it did.

You wouldn’t be happy once you came out of it, but he’d be there. Eric would be there, he’d make sure of it, so he could explain. So he could hold you – just like he was now – and speak the way he did only for you about how necessary it all was. Even if you didn’t understand he would make you… because if you didn’t…

... you had to.

He leaned away, sighing heavily, a noise half trapped in his throat as he let his hands slide down your face, the column of your throat, then back to his sides.

“Go on,” he muttered, taking a single step to the side to let you pass.

You did. Steady as all the rest. Eric sighed again as he turned to catch up with Max, his jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

He hated seeing you like that, though he’d never admit that to anyone.

He would have hated it more to see how your eyes fluttered once he was out of sight. How your breath hitched in your chest, your heart racing, beating against your ribs like a war drum. It would have broke his heart to see the tears that lined your lashes as you turned another corner, pausing just long enough to lean your shoulder against it and press your hand to your mouth to stifle the sob that tried to crawl its way free from between your teeth.

He would have hated to know that the serum didn’t work.

That you were the very thing they were trying to eradicate.

That you were Divergent .

[chloe-skywalker]

Hate This - Eric Coulter

Eric x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 361

Summary: Eric has to tell Y/n some news she’s gonna hate.

Masterlist

Divergent Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“I love you.” Eric said wrapping his arms around her waist.

“What’d you do?” Y/n raised a brow at him in question. It wasn’t normal for him to just come home and say those 3 words. Those words he normally said in more intimate settings.

“I”

When that was all he could get out Y/n turned around to face him with narrowed eyes. “What are you planning?”

“I’m sorry.” Eric apologized in advance and the fact that he was apologizing in advance made Y/n nervous for what he had to say.

“How upset am I gonna be?” She asked him, looking at him with worried eyes.

Eric grimanced at her question as he pulled her to sit on the couch. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down on his lap.

Eric maneuvered her to have one leg on each side of his waist.

“More than I’d like to see.” He said with a disappointed tone. He hated seeing her upset and Eric knew this was going to make her upset.

So with that Eric explained everything that Erudite was planning and how Dauntless was involved. What was going to happen. Everything.

Once he finished Eric waited with bated breath for her reaction, rubbing his thumbs into her hips under her shirt. Hoping to calm her worries.

“Why are you apart of this?” Y/n asked with a quiet hurt tone of voice.

“Y/n-”

“Why? How can you know about this and participate?” Y/n looked at him urgently with a slightly scared look in her eyes that broke his heart.

“I don’t have a choice. And if I said no then I wouldn’t know every detail. That would make it harder to protect you.” Eric moved her hair back and cupped the back of her neck with his right hand.

Eric knew she was divergent and the only way to protect her was to be at the center of it all.

“I hate this.” Y/n stated leaning her head down and rested it on his chest.

Eric wrapped his arms around her pulling her tightly against him, resting his chin on her head. “I know.”

Taglist: @padawancat97

[charlotteking23]

Masterlist

F1

Max Verstappen 💙

The Aristocats

Date Night Drives

Secret's Out

Lost Paddock Pass

I Am Not Pregnant

Bouquet Toss

My Makeup Tester

Target Curbside

Drunken Loyalty

Such a Tease

Money, money, money

How To Make Your Girl Happy

Chasing Shadows

Best Birthday Ever

Max Verstappen Series 💙

The Lion's Lamb - Aesthetics

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.1

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.2

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.3

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.4

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.5

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.6

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.7

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.8

The Lion's Lamb - Ch.9

Lando Norris🧡

Pet Names Bro

No Fool

Take Out The Trash Bag

The Times You Have Pranked Lando

Baby Wife

Charles Leclerc❤

Sassy Charles

Batmom one-shots

Villain's Debut

A Fairytale come true

Sooooo...I am a witch

Little Bruce

Forgotten Lunch

You're Still in my Heart

What Happened

Family Game Night

Nicknames

Eric Coulter Divergent

Cara Mia

My Pain

Not Ashamed

Eric's as a husband and father

Love you Like I do

Eric Headcanons

He's not that Bad

Obsessed with you

Monster High

Cleo de Nile x Duece Gorgon x plus-sized reader!

Descendants

Ben x Daughter of Scar! reader

Ben Headcanons

Carlos De Vil x villian! reader headcanons

Jealousy (Ben x reader)

Chat Noir

Chat Noir Headcanons

Chat Ate Catnip!?

Love? What is Love? ( Claw Noir)

Percy Jackson ( TV series)

First Time ( Grover Underwood)

[heliads]

Ink Stains

Moving from Amity to Dauntless was quite the lifestyle change. Still, nothing rocks your boat more than meeting Eric Coulter for the first time, especially when he seems to like you more than he should.

masterlist

Creativity does not flourish much in Dauntless, nor art for that matter. It is strange, then, that you, so fully borne of both, would choose this bloody faction as opposed to any other. Your birth faction, Amity, is better suited to your temperament and interests, but you had hardly realized that when you underwent the Choosing Ceremony. All of us must leave our homes when we grow up, and only very few can return.

Dauntless seemed like the furthest place you could run, so of course that was the one you chose. You missed it later, only after loathing it, blaming it for your troubles, and finally admitting that it might have been a good home to you, but only after far too long.

Sometimes, you think that’s why the city decided to force its inhabitants to choose their home faction when they’re so young. At that age, all you want to do is escape, so you pick something strange and foreign, a faction that your family would hate so you could fight back against them. When the dust clears and you realize that the past was not so terrible after all, you are in the middle of a strange place with no way of returning, so you have no choice but to fight to stay there.

It would instill a truly fascinating sense of dedication in its transfers, to say the least. Or perhaps no one is like that at all, and it is just that you have made a mistake with no way to fix it. Maybe you should have stayed in Amity after all, been content with familiar nothingness and learned to fake your smiles at least as well as your mother, or save your anger for when no one can see it, like your father.

You don’t think you were meant for Amity, though, not really. It vexed you to no end, the simplicity of it all. You did enjoy the painting, the artists that sprung up in every corner, common as dandelions, but that wasn’t the end of it. The rules were chafing yet vague, the expectations ever-changing. It should have come as no surprise that you would leave.

Besides, you did well in Dauntless initiation, to the great surprise of just about everyone there. They saw your brightly colored clothes when you leapt from the roof, but soon enough you blended in with the lot of them and people would double take when you told them you hadn’t been born in Dauntless proper. The thought that you could be from Amity of all places was insane, and had it not been for the fact that you still remember the waving gold of the fields, the high flying birds that soared above your head, you would have believed it as little as your new friends.

Despite your best attempts to immediately separate yourself from your former faction, you couldn’t shake the memories completely. That’s why you didn’t shoot for one of the top jobs or security positions. Those were snapped up by the really good kids, the ones who aren’t just not carefree but genuinely heartless.

You ended up taking a position among the ranks of tattoo artists and quickly soared to the top. Amity had taught you clarity and control in your art, and soon you were known for your original designs. More often than not, Dauntless looking for a new pattern would ask you to draw something directly as opposed to just using one of the countless templates already printed out.

It gives them a sense of originality, for one thing. No one tattoo is ever the same when it comes to your works. It saves members of the faction from the embarrassing experience of showing off a new tattoo just to see the guy across from you roll up his sleeve to reveal the exact same thing.

Soon enough, your name has spread far and wide across Dauntless, and you get more and more customers by the day. That’s how you know that you ended up choosing the right faction and way of life after all, and it’s also how you meet Eric Coulter for the first time.

Eric is somewhat of a mixed bag. He only graduated from initiation a year or so before you, so he didn’t lead your training when you first joined the faction. You’ve heard he’s a total killer, both in the fighting ring and at every other moment of the day, so you were more than a little uneasy when he first darkened the door of your shop.

You’re not really sure what you expected when he showed up in the beginning. That he’d yell at you, maybe, like you’d heard in whispers. Apparently he’d go off on anyone if he felt the need– someone taking the wrong water glass in the mess hall, or an idiot trainee who didn’t get ready in time– or he could have just been there to complain about some failed regulation you didn’t know about.

Instead, he was nice, actually, which was somehow even more unsettling than if he’d just been the harsh training leader he is to everyone else. He’d spent a lot of time admiring your works, even offering up a rare compliment here and there. At last, he’d decided on an initial design, and taken a seat on your chair.

Most clients talk at least a little while you’re tattooing them. New initiates usually rattle off their difficulties, grateful for an ear that won’t judge them or try to use their weaknesses to gain a position or two in the rankings. Experienced Dauntless sometimes swap gossip or discuss various pieces of information they’ve heard from contacts in other factions. Others just stay silent the whole time, thinking through ideas they’ll barely even hint at to you.

One of your friends has tattooed Eric before, and they told you he’d been absolutely icy the whole appointment, hardly even saying a word except to point out which tattoo he wanted. Maybe he’d just had a bad day then, because you and Eric actually end up talking the entire time. 

He complains about the initiates being unable to so much as tie their shoes without needing his directions, and laughs when you counter his stories with what you’ve seen outside of the scheduled training hours. Eric asks you about how you started tattooing and seems genuinely stunned that you grew up in Amity.

“It doesn’t seem possible,” he tells you over the hum of the tattoo needle, “you’re, like, normal.”

You laugh at that. “The Amity are normal, Coulter.”

He narrows his eyes. “They’re weird. Happy-go-lucky strangers. Not you, though,” he adds quickly, “you’re tough. A real Dauntless.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t take offense if you insult the Amity,” you grin, “I left for a reason, believe me on that.”

Eric frowns. “What was the reason, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You sigh, staring at the design you’re working through for a moment before getting up the strength to continue. “I clashed with the higher-ups a lot. If you weren’t totally happy and living life all the time, you felt like you were disappointing them. Everyone there claims that they’re only ever nice to them, but the faction leaders told me I was a screwup more times than I could count. Even my own parents.”

When you risk a glance up, you notice that Eric’s expression has twisted down into something colder, something almost like rage. “They were wrong. They shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know,” you laugh to yourself, “I did well in initiation, obviously they should have guessed that.”

After a while, Eric is convinced to laugh a little alongside you, but the anger doesn’t erase itself from his features for some time. “Yes,” he mumbles almost to himself, “they should have.”

The rest of the session passes without incident. The next day, you find yourself waiting at your empty station. He was supposed to come back to finish the piece, but he’s a few minutes late, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s on purpose, that you said or did something to chase him off. It could be nothing, of course, but you never know.

He ends up hurrying in soon enough, the slightly quickened beat of his walk the only sign that something is on his mind. You look up when he arrives, allowing yourself a small smile. He did come back, then. You were not too much.

“Glad to see you,” you say, “I was worried I scared you off with my inherent Amity-ness. I’ve heard it’s bad for Dauntless. Ruins the whole stoic demeanor if we smile too much.”

His lips twitch upwards briefly, but whatever had been bothering him before tamps that forbidden emotion down soon enough. “No, not your fault in the slightest. Some initiate was using the wrong kind of gun during today’s drills, nearly put another kid’s eye out. I don’t even know where he got the thing, but it happened anyway.”

“Ah,” you say with a knowing look, “Initiates.”

“Always initiates,” Eric grumbles, but he allows his smile to stick this time, and you think that maybe he isn’t as bad as the rumors allow.

The rest of the session is just as good, if not better. Eric is kind to you, says things that grow increasingly apparent to be jokes. It’s funny, you’d always heard that he was this terribly cold guy, but everyone else must have gotten him at a bad time. Either that, or that’s the Amity in you seeing the best of everyone. Still, you’re certain that his good attitude whenever you’re around isn’t faked. It can’t be.

There’s silence from him for a while. You don’t take it personally, or you shouldn’t, anyway– Eric’s a busy guy, you know that from his words alone if not from always seeing him rush around the compound. He’s a Dauntless leader, he’s not going to be hanging around a tattoo shop unless he’s actively getting new ink.

Then, about a week or so later, he comes back in. Busies himself with looking at the patterns for a while even though you both know he’s not going to get something anyone else could have. This time, he talks to you, asks what you wish you got to draw more often. When you answer, he has you put that in his latest design. It makes your stomach tie itself in tight knots, more intense than even when you’d thrown yourself off the roof on your first day on Dauntless earth.

Confusingly, Eric stops you when you’re about halfway through, says that’s all the time he’s got and that he’d like to continue tomorrow, if that’s alright with you. You ask him if he minds having an incomplete tattoo on his arm and he just laughs, tells you he’ll pull his sleeves down or something. It’s a terrible excuse, but it’s what he wants and so that must be what you want, too. It’s good business. You can tell yourself that when you’re lying awake at night, wondering just what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Eric comes in almost every day, demanding increasing progress on his tattoos. You don’t know why he insists on doing them piecewise– it’s not pain tolerance, he’s got more of that than anyone around and it’s not like Dauntless Leader Eric Coulter would ever admit to something pathetic like pain. It must be something else, then. It must be.

The tattoos spiral and change as they spread across his skin. They’re a mess, to be honest, no cohesive pattern, like he’s picking the templates with his eyes closed and only the goal of covering as much flesh as possible. 

You tell him his tattoo sleeves aren’t as coherent as they could be; he laughs, asks you to use your Amity artistry to make some sense of them. He seems unruffled by your accusations of poor taste. Later that same day, Eric punches someone’s nose in because some drunk fellow stumbling out of a party made the mistake of questioning the inked patterns. The idiot said the same things you did, more or less. One of you received a rare smile, the other, a broken bone. It makes no sense.

At some point, he’s going to run out of skin to tattoo. You warn him of this and he grins, flashing dagger-sharp teeth at you. Says that’s why he’s asking you to go so slowly with it. Inch by inch, he cedes control to you. You want to question what that means, but some part of you is scared to ask, scared that he’ll change his mind and leave, or worse, ask someone else to do it.

The last day comes, and this time you know it’ll be the end with certainty. Eric asks you to ink his throat in thick stripes, almost like you can see the angles of his spine through the skin. You sit there, trying to focus on your needle, finishing the design, instead of anything foolish like his head in your hands, his eyes resting quietly on you. He can’t talk while you’re working on his neck like this, but the weight of his gaze says enough anyway.

You finish the last stroke and allow yourself to sit there for one final moment, waiting for it all to be over. Your fingers rest on the smooth expanse of his cheekbone, and Eric raises his hand to cover yours.

“Well,” you say at last, trying to keep your voice light, “it’s been an honor to tattoo you, Eric.”

He smiles. The brief, unwelcome thought that this might be the last time you see him do that flashes through your head, and you banish it just as quickly. That’s not something you want to think about right now, if ever.

“I’d say I’m the one who’s been honored,” he returns, “you’ve got the best work in the faction and everyone knows it.”

You feel some small surge of pride in your chest when he says it, hot and bright like the Dauntless flames. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me in a different way,” he offers, “Drinks tomorrow night, maybe? On me?”

You smile back at him. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” he grins, standing so he can look down at you. “I’ll pick you up then. It’ll be fun. Maybe you can teach me some of that Amity optimism.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. It would suit him, you think, smiling more, trusting you so he can let down his guard. Looking at him, at how his eyes brighten when he laughs, you think it already does.

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozyynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog

[littlegreenteacup]

I'm Gonna Marry You One Day

Summary: At the end of a very long week (Y/N) is tasked with caring for a less than sober Eric. As the night wares on Eric's usual tough guy exterior melts away leaving the Eric she remembers from childhood.

Word Count: 3,881

Warnings: Drunk Eric, Someone slipped him something and its making him act a bit different than usual, passing references to working as an ER doctor - of sorts, dubious consent - i don't know how much consent can be given in this situation, It's not marked NSFW for anything smutty just other things.

A/N: I'm so bad at summaries. The book the reader is listening to is from Essex Dogs by Dan Jones - I've never read it but I was listening to a history podcast from the same author during work and it made more sense to have her listening to a book instead of a podcast. I also had a really specific idea of the things in the reader's apartment, or at last the things that were described, and I have no idea how to include descriptions of those items without over explaining, so if I have time I might come up with some kind of drawing or something and post it somewhere. I don't know yet.

A/N 2: Yeah, no. I've already forgot what kind of bullshit i was talking about, but this is what I get for posting something to tumblr months after i posted it to Ao3, which is where that first note is from.

It had started right after dinner had ended in the Pit. The customary Friday evening crowd of Dauntless, young and old, seeking alcohol and company for the evening streaming into the cavernous room, loud conversations and cheers and greetings called from across the room echoing off the ceiling. (Y/N), never one for the noise and chaos of Dauntless parties, had opted to stay in her apartment, heat up a cup of leftover soup and read a book.

It had been a long week compounded by an even longer day, Eric and Four were never easy on the initiates but this year’s bunch were particularly whiny, and she had paid the price for it. Every few hours Eric or Four or one of the few initiates still standing after the latest round of fights had showed up at the door to her office, the arm of whatever poor bastard had been the latest to receive a beating slung over their shoulder. She would direct them to lay their victim on an open cot and go about the unfortunately familiar process of patching up her newest patient.

All week it had been bad - whoever thought allowing the untrained and idiotic young adults free reign in the evenings to drink, party and be absolute idiots and then turn around and expect them to be able shoot straight during target practice the next morning was not her favorite person at the moment - and Friday morning had been the cherry on top. She’d woken up three hours earlier than usual to an urgent message from one of the night nurses about an infirmary full of patients thanks to a drinking game gone very wrong and an accident involving a train car that disconnected from the rest of the train leaving anyone onboard to jump – weather it was an ideal situation or not. Normally the latter group would have been sent straight to the more well equipped city hospital, but Dauntless had been the closest medical facility, and so doctors from the hospital had instead been dispatched to help with the sudden influx of patients making the infirmary even more crowded than it would have otherwise been, and giving (Y/N) a migraine from dealing with some of her former faction-mates who had also gone into medicine – Leaonard was still and asshole and he probably always would be, but it was as sorry state of affairs if his snide remarks and cruel jeers offered some form of comfort in that they were predictable – all while trying, and occasionally failing, to keep her patients from being in too much pain from their injuries. And all of this wasn’t including the stomach bug that had been going around and had laid out several senior medical staff, leaving (Y/N) overworked, and the infirmary understaffed, all week.

Later on in the morning, once the initiates had started their day, Eric had been in a particularly pissy mood and had had them all running six miles around the compound. When one of the smaller girls had tripped over some loose gravel and scraped her knees up badly enough to need stitches, and in the process caused some of the other initiates to trip over her, he dragged them all in to see (Y/N), and berated the poor girl who had started the pile up for her clumsiness until (Y/N) had had enough and told Eric to either grab a pair of tweezers and help take the gravel out of the girl’s knees or to get out. Eric had shot her a dark look but left anyway, muttering under his breath the entire way back to wherever he had come from.

The rest of the day had followed similarly, one disaster after another, one accident leaving her infirmary more packed than before until early evening when the ambulances had arrived to take the patients in need of more intensive care or who needed to be watched for the night to the city hospital, and anyone else was sent home bandaged and bruised with prescriptions to fill at the pharmacy down the hall.

(Y/N) had spent another hour or so catching up on the paperwork she had neglected in favor of her patients, and then left for the evening, leaving her infirmary in the care of the night staff until the next shift change in the morning, when the weekend staff would take over. Having missed dinner in the Pit, she had elected to go straight home, where she could take a hot shower, enjoy a glass or two of wine some leftover soup and read her book. As an Erudite transfer (Y/N) had never quite managed to rid herself of her love of books and reading, nor did she particularly care to, and so to her spending a Friday evening at home making some headway on the novel she had started the week before was a far better proposition than jockeying for space at the bar among drunk faction-mates who were already too far gone to understand what a healthy distance might be, regardless of how early in the evening it might have been.

That was how it had started. And with the week she’d had (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure why she was surprised when Four showed up at her door with an incredibly drunk, and possibly high, Eric with him.

“What the hell happened to him?” (Y/N) asked, as Four half stepped half stumbled through the door, the other man weighing him down, and made his way to the living room where he deposited Eric on the sofa and stood up straight before turning to the woman in front of him, with an almost amused smirk on his face.

“He got drunk in the Pit, and I think someone slipped him something too” Four said scratching his head.

With a sigh, (Y/N) grabbed a green cream and pink striped afghan blanket off the back of her sofa and draped over Eric’s shoulders as he sat, grinning like an idiot, staring at the overcrowded bookshelf against her living room wall.

“I don’t know what though.” Four turned back to the front door, “you gonna be okay with him?”

(Y/N) raised a brow at his question, “Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked the older man in front of her.

“I don’t know,” Four responded, “it’s Eric,” he continued, “Tris said you be the best bet for someone who could take care of him while he was like this, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Uh huh,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes “and if I said ‘no’ what would you have done?”

Four didn’t say anything. It was a rhetorical question and they both already know the answer.

“Tell Tris I said ‘hi’, will you?” (Y/N) snickered at the blush that flushed Four’s cheeks at the mere mention of his girlfriend. Tris’s reaction would have been the same, their good old fashioned Abnegation upbringing rearing its head, and (Y/N) had never missed a chance to tease Tris about her crush on Four during Initiation, and that teasing extended to Four as well once both girls had passed and been welcomed into Dauntless, their social circles overlapping fairly extensively once (Y/N) had taken over management of the infirmary, and Tris had started dating their former instructor. But that overlap had also extended to Eric. He and Four weren’t exactly what anyone could call friends, but they did end up in the same place at the same time more often than not, and that resulted in (Y/N) and Eric spending a fair bit of time together, and before she knew it, (Y/N) found herself falling love with him.

Her obvious feelings for the man had led to more than a few teasing comments from Four, Tris, and especially from Christina whose Candor tendencies only seemed to become more apparent once she was accepted.

Four nodded his goodbye to (Y/N), and headed out the door, closing it softly in his wake, as (Y/N) went back to the kitchen. If she was taking care of an inebriated Eric she couldn’t have that glass of wine she been looking forward to all day, instead she filled the kettle she kept on her stove with water from the sink, lit the largest burner on her stove and placed the kettle over it. Taking down two oversized mugs from the cabinet, and a box of teabags from its place by her fridge, (Y/N) set the items next to the stove, ready and waiting for the water to boil.

Turning, she glanced into the living room to check and see what Eric was doing, and she almost let out a giggle at the sight in front of her. Big mean Eric, whose bark was just as bad as his bite most of the time, was laying on her sofa, his long legs sticking out over the arm on one side, his head resting on the other. For a second, she thought he was sleeping, and then she heard him murmuring to himself and watched in mild amusement as the man she’d harbored a crush on for the last few years reached an arm up and traced the shapes of the constellations she’d painted on her ceiling through the air. As (Y/N) stepped further into the room, she could see that his eyes were large and he had a soft goofy smile on his face.

The whistle of the kettle called her back to the kitchen, and as she turned off the stove and pored the water into the waiting mugs, she was reminded that it was the rare appearance of a soft vulnerable Eric - the one she had known in her childhood when he’d been the one to find her crying in a windowsill and get her book of fairytales back from some older kids for her - that was the reason she’d always liked the man, even when he had been harder on her during initiation than anyone else. This was the version of Eric that made her laugh when she was upset, who made her hear beat faster in her chest when he shot her a sly smirk, the version who would show up unannounced at the door to the infirmary just as her shift ended and insist on walking her home again. The Eric that would leave her at her door, and wish her a good night, and each time there was a slight hesitation before he turned and left, as if he had something else, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. This was the Eric she had fallen in love with.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) dismissed the memories, fixed the two mugs of tea with milk and sugar and placed a pot on the stove to reheat the soup she’d made the night before. Turning the burner at the back of the stove down to simmer, she took a sip of her tea, savoring the moment, and cradling the warm cup in her hands. Gingerly setting the mug down on the counter, (Y/N) turned to the speaker she kept on her counter and turned it before pressing resume on the audiobook she had begun earlier in the day.

…'Christ's bones, wake up!' 'Loveday' FitzTalbot jerked his head up. Father had dug him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. Despite the cold saltwater spray that whipped his face, the rocking of the landing craft had lulled him into a moment of sleep. He had dreamed he was at home. But now his eyes were open again, he saw that he was not. They were still here. Out at sea. As far from home as they had ever been. Getting further from it every second…

The warm timber of the narrator’s accented voice echoed throughout the tiny apartment, as she placed Eric’s mug of tea on the table in front of the sofa. Returning to the kitchen, and leaning against the counter, he own mug once again in hand, it wasn’t long before (Y/N) was lost in the story.

…waved airily at him and told him there would be plenty enough to make good sport. He said he had this directly from the Marshal of the Army, Lord Warwick, who had it from King Edward himself. Noble men. Knightly men. Men who knew best. If I had wanted good sport, thought Loveday, I would have stayed home in Essex, playing dice in the inn near Colchester and paying a penny to lay my head of a night between the thighs of Gilda, the alewife's girl. But he had held his peace with Sir Robert. The man was a fool, but he was the fool who had recruited them for this campaign. Who would pay their wages for the next forty days. The Dogs hired their sword- and bow-arms…

Eric, still half dazed and laying on the sofa, turned his head so he could see (Y/N) in the Kitchen, the sight if her, so engrossed in the story playing through the speaker, had warmth blossoming in his chest. Stumbling to his feet, Eric was dimly aware of the dull thud sound his shin made as it hit the edge of the coffee table, the mug of tea (Y/N) had placed there for him almost tipping over in the process.

Stumbling over his socked-feet – when had his boots been taken off? – and across the soft blue and red rug in the living room and into the kitchen, Eric couldn’t help but grin at the sight in front of him.

(Y/N), once again cradling her mug of tea, had a soft amused smile spreading across her face, as she watched Eric clumsily make his way into the kitchen. The fairy-lights under the cabinets casting a warm glow across the pair of them.

As the chapter of the audiobook (Y/N) had been listening to came to a close, she switched the speaker to music, the lyrics and instruments blending into one as Eric’s attention focused on the woman standing in front of him, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Her hair was tied up in a messy braid, strands of hair falling out of place and casting shadows across her cheeks, the t-shirt she wore was several sizes too large with the logo of some band he knew she liked emblazoned across the front – he wondered if she would be the type to steal his shirts if given the chance – (Y/N) wore a large maroon knit cardigan over the top of her shirt. It was obvious, even in his less than sober state of mind, that (Y/N) had been ready for a peaceful night in.

Hearing the music, almost as if for the first time, Eric reached forward with both hands outstretched as if in invitation, and as soon as (Y/N) had set her, now empty, mug down, he grasped her hands and pulled her into his chest, spinning them both around the tiny kitchen with surprising grace for how out of it he had been when he’d arrived only an hour or two before.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a breathless dizzy laugh as Eric spun her around and around in time with the music that poured from the speaker. As the song ended, Eric pulled her into his chest, burying his nose in her hair, his arms wrapped securely around her. She’d never felt so safe. The scent of his cologne – smokey and woodsy with a hint of some kind of citrusy note – mixed with the warm familiar smell of him and the acrid tinge of gun powder, metal, and boot polish.

Eric wrapped his arms tighter around (Y/N), inhaling deep breaths of her shampoo and perfume. He was so calm. Everything felt right in the world with her in his arms – there was no awful, bloody, violent past dragging him down, no worries about what might have happened had things not gone the way they had, no concerns about what the idiots he was training were doing or how they might behave the next morning, none of that. Everything was perfect and calm. Peaceful. Still. Everything was exactly as it should be in that moment.

Without thinking about it, Eric pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and murmured six little words that he never would have had the courage to say at any other time: “‘m gonna marry you one day.”

(Y/N) froze. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought Eric Coulter of all people would say that to her. She had never thought he would, in any situation, return her affections. And she had most defiantly never thought that Eric would be the one to say something first.

But he was drunk, possibly still high on whatever drug he had been given earlier in the evening, and not in any state to be having this conversation. (Y/N) pulled herself out of his grasp as best she could, a sad tired smile having replaced the bright happy one she’d had on only moments before, and firmly guided Eric back the sofa in the living room. She guided him to lay down and covered him with the same warm wool afghan she had wrapped over his shoulders earlier that evening.

Before she could pull away entirely, Eric wrapped his arms around her waist again, and tugged, gently, pulling (Y/N) onto the couch and against his chest before falling into a deep sleep, thoroughly exhausted from the long week and feeling very warm and sleepy in this cozy apartment with too many fairly lights and books stacked everywhere, with stars painted on the ceiling and dragons napping on tea mugs; the warm milky smell of cinnamon and tea permeating the entire space, and the woman he’d been in love with for years curled up against him.

Knowing there was no point in trying to get up and go to bed once she heard Eric’s first snore, (Y/N), for her part, curled further into the comfort of Eric’s warm embrace and the comforting rhythm of his breathing, tugged part of the large blanket over herself, and surrendered to the siren call of sleep. Eric’s tea and the soup they’d never bothered to eat both forgotten where they lay.

As the sun shone through the large arched window of her living room, it’s light diffused by the sheer curtains she long ago embroidered with golden stars, (Y/N) woke to the feeling of gentle circles being traced across her back. Remembering that she was still curled up with Eric on the sofa, she hazarded a glance up, he eyes meeting the steely blue-gray gaze of the man whose arms were wrapped around her. Eric looked as exhausted as he always did, but something in his eyes was more relaxed and at peace then she had ever seen him.

Slowly, and rather reluctantly, extricating herself from his arms, (Y/N) stood up from her spot on the sofa, already missing the warmth from being pressed against Eric’s chest. Pacing softly into the kitchen, she opened the cabinet in the corner, pulled down the basket of medication and grasped the bottle of ibuprofen and taking out two of the flat white pills. Gently placing them on the counter, she turned to get a glass out of the other cabinet. Reaching up, the only clean water glass was only slightly out of reach.

Before she could get the stepstool out of the pantry, Eric’s warm chest pressed against her back, his arm reaching up to grasp the glass and take it down for her. Taking it from his grasp, (Y/N) placed it on the counter and filled it with water from the pitcher in the fridge. Pressing both the glass of water and the pills into Eric’s hand, (Y/N) hoisted herself onto the counter as he took the offered medication and placed the glass in the sink.

“I meant what I said,” Eric’s voice still rough from sleep, (Y/N)’s eyes went wide as she looked up at him, “I’m going to marry you one day,” Eric tried again, “I promised I would the day we met.”

(Y/N) couldn’t keep the grin off her lips at his words. The day they met, it seemed like lifetimes ago and at the same time like it could have happened only yesterday.

“The day we met?” she questions, Eric flushes slightly. They were only kids then “Do you mean the day you got my book back for me?”

Eric simply wraps his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, buries his nose in her hair and inhales, “Yeah,” he responds, “the last time I ever did anything good in my life,” he pauses, inhales deeply, and continues, “and don’t say it isn’t true – I’ve done more than my fair share of things that should never have been allowed to happen,”

“Eric,” (Y/N) says softly, resting a gentle hand against his cheek, “what you did…” she trails off.

“What I did,” Eric continues, this time keeping eye contact, “I could have known was wrong so much sooner if I had wanted to,” his chest hitches with a barely there sob, “I should have known, and I chose not to.”

(Y/N), still sitting atop the kitchen counter, pulls the taller man standing in front of her into a hug, “I’m not asking you right now,” Eric continues, “but one day, when I’m not a complete mess, and I have a ring for you, I’m going to ask you to marry me,” here he cuts off, a look of hope and fear in his eyes, that takes (Y/N)’s breath away, “and then it’s up to you.”

“What are you saying?” she asks, confusion coloring her clear voice, “are you…what” she can’t quite form the thoughts in her head into a complete sentence. There isn’t a way to form those thoughts into any sentence at all – this situation is too strange, too bizarre, too something and too nothing to be able to fully comprehend what it is Eric is saying.

Eric takes a breath, something between a sigh and a laugh and a desperate pleading bid for enough strength to get through this moment.

 “I haven’t really asked you anything,” tears are beginning to well at his lower lash line, and (Y/N) is struck nearly dumb by the simple fact that Eric fucking Coulter is here, in her kitchen, confessing that he’s apparently been in love with her for years and that he wants to marry her.

“First things first,” (Y/N) interjects, a brief look of relief flashing in Eric’s eyes, there and gone in a second, “why don’t we go out, and see how this goes, and decide from there.”

There’s a finality in those words neither care to analyze. They have been together without being together for a long time. In another life, they probably would have already been married, or maybe not. Eric might have decided a long time ago that the only woman he would marry was (Y/N), but it’s only the events of the last few years that have brought back the Eric that (Y/N) would entertain the idea of marrying. The one she knew years ago. The one who was her quite protector in school. The one who pushed her to do, to be, her best in initiation. The one she’d been in love with for years.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Divergent - Masterlist

Eric Coulter:

Series:

🌺 Friends to Lovers: It’s time for you to choose your faction. You knew you would meet him if you chose Dauntless, but you chose it anyway. Can you rebuild your friendship? And can more come from this friendship?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 11 (2) | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Headcanons:

HC - Eric in the bedroom

Oneshots:

Pumpkins - Halloween Special

Masterplan - Tris notices that Eric is interested in a girl and comes up with a plan to get them together

Fear - Eric helps you cope with a nightmare 

Relapse - Eric’s girlfriend relapses with self harm and bulimia

Coming out - Reader comes out to Eric as pan

Drabbles:

Drabbles #69, #46

Drabbles #5, #66

Drabble #74

Drabble #75

Drabble #62

Back to the Master-Masterlist

[tisayemate]

Lucky

Peter Hayes x small!Reader

Idk what to call it at this point. Not fluffy enough to be a fluff or angsty enough to be angst. Just for your amusement ig.

Summary: Peter Hayes has always thrived on cruelty, sneering at others’ weaknesses to make himself look stronger. But when you—a quiet, seemingly small Dauntless initiate—beat him in a trial, he’s forced to see you in a different light. 

AN: in this one, I imagined it to be that reader is small in size and often undermined but you could imagine it and tailor it to your preference. (Maybe that she just SEEMS weak or smth)

The lights of the Dauntless training room cast long shadows across the stone floor, the sound of fists hitting punching bags and the grunts of effort filling the air. You stood off to the side, small and unassuming compared to the towering forms of the other initiates. But looks, as you’d proven time and time again, were deceiving.

You cracked your knuckles absentmindedly, watching as Peter Hayes towered over some poor recruit, a smirk curling his lips. Peter thrived on being intimidating. He fed off the fear that shimmered in the eyes of those around him, always sneering, always two steps ahead of his peers—if not in skill, then in sheer malice. He was, in many ways, the embodiment of Dauntless’ harshest traits.

But today, things were about to change.

"Alright, fight time," Eric barked, pacing along the sidelines like a predator circling its prey. His cold gaze swept over the group before landing on you. His lip curled in an almost-smile. "You."

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, and you didn’t flinch under their scrutiny. If anything, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through you. The room grew quieter, expectant, as Eric nodded toward Peter. "You’re up against him."

Peter's smirk widened. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement. "Really? This ought to be good."

You rolled your shoulders back, stepping into the circle without a word, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you. But you were used to being underestimated. It was your advantage, your weapon.

Peter sauntered forward, cracking his neck as if the fight was already won. His confidence radiated like a toxic cloud, infecting the room with tension. His smirk deepened as he came to a stop a few feet from you, towering over your smaller frame.

"You sure you’re up for this, sweetheart?" he drawled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

You ignored the taunt. There was no need to respond. The game had already begun, and Peter just didn’t know it yet.

"Fight!" Eric’s voice echoed through the room like a gunshot.

Peter moved fast, closing the distance between you in a single step, his fist swinging toward your face with brutal force. But you were faster. You ducked, sidestepping at the last second, causing him to stumble forward.

His eyes narrowed as he straightened, his smirk faltering for just a second. "Lucky."

But luck had nothing to do with it.

The next few seconds were a blur of motion. Peter lunged again, his movements aggressive, fueled by arrogance. Each time, you dodged or blocked with fluid precision, making him look clumsy. The others watched in stunned silence, whispering among themselves as you began to gain the upper hand.

Peter’s frustration grew, evident in the tightening of his jaw, the wild swing of his fists. He wasn’t used to losing—especially not to someone who looked like you.

Finally, you saw your opening. Peter’s guard dropped for just a moment, and that was all you needed. You spun on your heel, sweeping his legs out from under him with a swift kick. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, the air knocked out of him as you stood over him, victorious.

For a moment, the room was still. Peter lay on the ground, eyes wide with shock, while you stood above him, not a single drop of sweat on your brow.

Then, slowly, Eric’s voice cut through the silence. "Impressive."

It was one word, barely a compliment, but from Eric, it might as well have been a standing ovation. His expression remained unreadable, but the flicker of approval in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Eric wasn’t one to show emotion, especially when it came to initiates, but even he had to respect what you’d just pulled off.

Peter groaned, pushing himself to his feet, his cocky façade crumbling as he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. He glared at you, anger boiling beneath the surface, but there was something else there too—something he would never admit. Respect.

"You got lucky," Peter growled, brushing himself off.

You met his glare head-on, unflinching. "No, I’m just better."

There it was—plain, simple truth. And Peter, for once, had no snarky reply. He clenched his jaw, still trying to nurse his bruised ego, but the look in his eyes told you that he knew. He knew you weren’t someone to mess with.

Later, after everyone had left the training room, you sat alone, wrapping a bandage around a scrape on your hand. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving you with a dull ache in your muscles and the satisfying knowledge that you’d bested Peter Hayes.

But you didn’t have long to savor the victory.

"You really think you’re something, don’t you?" A voice sneered from behind.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Peter’s smug tone was unmistakable. You rolled your eyes, continuing to bandage your hand.

"I mean, you got lucky once, but let’s not pretend like you’ll always come out on top," Peter continued, stepping into your line of sight. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face again. "You’re just a little fighter who had a lucky day. Don’t let it get to your head."

You glanced up at him, unfazed. "Sure, Peter. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Peter’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t act like you’re better than everyone. We both know you don’t belong here. Just a little girl playing soldier."

The words were meant to sting, but they rolled off you like water. You had heard worse, from worse people. Peter’s insults weren’t anything new, and they certainly didn’t get under your skin the way he hoped they would.

You stood up, facing him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "It’s cute how you think you can still intimidate me after I wiped the floor with you today."

Peter’s face darkened. "Watch your mouth."

You shrugged, turning to leave. "I don’t need to watch anything. I’ve already seen enough."

Peter opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. For the first time, it seemed like he had no comeback, no witty insult to throw at you. You walked away, leaving him standing there, simmering in his bruised ego and thinly veiled frustration.

As you left the room, you couldn’t help but smirk. Peter might never stop trying to tear you down, but you weren’t going to let him win. Not today, not ever.

[littlemissvenom0]

Title: Finally Yours

The after-party for the initiates’ final ranking ceremony is wild, loud, and filled with a kind of electric energy only found in Dauntless. Bodies move to the beat, drinks are passed around, and laughter and cheers echo through the compound. I stand among my fellow initiates—no, my fellow Dauntless members now. A strange mix of pride and relief fills me. I made it. I’m finally Dauntless.

I feel a familiar set of eyes on me, watching. Eric’s gaze is intense, locked on me from across the room. We’d been playing a dangerous game throughout initiation, keeping our connection quiet, letting stolen glances and lingering touches speak the words we couldn’t. As an initiate and him being my instructor, neither of us could afford to show how we felt, not openly. But now, with initiation over and ranks finalized, there’s no one left to stop him.

Before I know it, he’s crossing the room, his presence parting the crowd as he walks. He stops in front of me, his gaze sharp, possessive. Without a word, his hand slides around my waist, pulling me close, his grip firm but familiar. He’s staking a claim, showing everyone who I belong to now. And by the look in his eyes, he doesn’t intend to let anyone forget it.

He leans down, his lips close to my ear. “You’re finally mine,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

A smirk tugs at my lips, and I tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. “Took you long enough,” I say, trying to keep my tone playful despite the flutter in my chest.

Eric’s eyes darken, his hand on my waist tightening slightly. “I had to wait until you earned it.” There’s a hint of pride in his tone, pride for what I accomplished. “And now, no one else gets to look at you. Not if they want to keep their eyes.”

The way he says it is casual, like a simple fact, but the heat in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. And true to his word, he doesn’t let anyone come near. Throughout the night, I feel his protective hold around me. If someone so much as glances in my direction, Eric’s glare is enough to send them scurrying. It’s like he’s daring anyone to come close, to try and take me from him.

At one point, he pulls me onto his lap as he sits on one of the lounge chairs, his arms wrapped securely around me. The entire room might as well not exist as far as he’s concerned. His focus is solely on me, his hands tracing patterns on my back, his fingers leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. I lean into him, letting the steady beat of his heart calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

Eventually, the party starts to wind down, and Eric leads me away from the crowd, guiding me down the halls with a hand on the small of my back. We end up at the tattoo parlor, a grin spreading across his face as he looks at me. “You’re Dauntless now,” he says. “You should have a mark to show for it.”

The idea makes something twist in my chest—an excitement, a thrill. I’ve always wanted a tattoo, something to make me feel truly part of Dauntless. And now, with Eric by my side, it feels like the perfect time.

He gestures for me to sit on the tattoo chair, and I comply, feeling his eyes on me as I settle in. The needle and ink sit nearby, and Eric picks them up, surprising me. “You’re doing it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He smirks, moving closer. “You trust me, don’t you?”

His tone is teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his gaze that catches me off guard. I nod, and he starts the process, his hands careful and surprisingly gentle as he works. The pain is sharp, but I grit my teeth, refusing to flinch.

Eric notices my determination and chuckles softly, his voice a low rumble. “Tough, aren’t you?”

I meet his gaze, refusing to let him see any hint of weakness. “I can handle it.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on mine before returning to his work.

His touch is surprisingly tender, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that’s almost reverent. Every now and then, he’ll pause, his thumb ghosting over my skin as if to soothe any discomfort. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen before, a gentleness that contrasts with his usual hard, unyielding demeanor. And it makes my heart race.

When he finishes, he sets down the needle, and I look down at the tattoo—a sleek design that’s both bold and intricate, a perfect representation of Dauntless. I can’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the mark.

Eric’s hand comes up to rest on my shoulder, his gaze intense. “It suits you,” he says quietly, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Thank you,” I reply, my voice soft as I look up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, we just stay like that, our eyes locked, an unspoken connection passing between us.

Over the next few days, Eric is everywhere I go. Whether I’m training, grabbing food, or just walking through the compound, he’s always nearby, a steady presence that seems to follow me no matter where I am. And though he doesn’t say it, I can feel the protective edge in his gaze, the way he watches over me, almost like he’s daring anyone to come too close.

When I point it out one night, he just shrugs. “Can’t leave you alone, can I? Someone might get ideas.”

“Like you?” I tease, crossing my arms with a smirk.

He steps closer, his hands sliding around my waist as he pulls me against him. “No one else can handle you the way I can,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive.

The days pass in a blur, filled with stolen moments and whispered words. He doesn’t just protect me—he encourages me, pushes me to be stronger, to prove that I’m just as fierce and fearless as anyone else in Dauntless. And in those moments, I feel like I truly belong, not just in Dauntless, but with him.

One evening, we’re sitting alone by the chasm, the roar of the water below filling the silence. I lean against him, his arm wrapped around me as he holds me close. It’s quiet, peaceful, a rare moment of calm in the chaos of Dauntless.

“You know,” he says softly, his voice almost thoughtful, “I never thought I’d care about someone like this. But you… you’re different.”

I glance up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his gaze. He’s always been so guarded, so tough. But right now, he’s letting me see a part of him he hides from everyone else.

“Guess I’m just lucky, then,” I murmur, resting my head against his shoulder.

He chuckles, a soft, genuine sound that makes my heart swell. “No, I am,” he replies, pressing a kiss to my forehead. And in that moment, I know that I am his—wholly, completely. Just as he is mine.

[ghostedgrim]

She's All That. 2

Pt.1. pt.2.nsfw version. Request page. Masterlist.

Warnings⚠️: Jealousy,(I very recently finished a 700 dark fantasy so it kinda effected my writing) fighting, a graphic fighting scene, injuries, death, alot of fluff at the end tho 👍

The sounds of grunts and fists connecting with leather echoes through the room as I hit the punching bag over and over. It's been a month, I haven't talked to James once, nor have I talked to y/n either. No matter how hard I try, I can spot her from across the room, yet she ignores me so easily. Now that I've dated her, every guy around seems to finally notice she exists and they all want a damn piece of her.

"Eric!" I turn around to see Max approaching, my shirt and jacket in his hand. I back away from the bag, and wipe some of my sweat off my face with my hand towel. "Why weren't you at the meeting this afternoon?"

I hold back a groan and turn to Max, "I highly doubt I would've had any important input on how to handle rowdy Factionless when I only handle the affairs inside Dauntless, and our alliance with Erudite."

"Eric, I don't know what has gotten into you, but if you miss another damn meeting, or get to work late again you'll be kissing your position as a Dauntless leader goodbye and living with the Factionless." Max's tone is firm leaving no room for argument or question of a bluff. Fuck.

"My apologies sir, I'll get my act together. I will see you at Erudite tonight." Max fists my shirt and jacket tighter in his hand and punches them into my chest.

"Good, cause you're on very thin ice and summer is fast approaching." I grab my clothes before he can drop them, and watched with a cold glare as he left. I drop my clothes back onto the chair I initially set them on and resumed punching the bag. The bruises decorating my body, curtesy of Four, hurt like Hell, and I revel in it.

Kai, green hair, snakebite peircings, no tattoos, and ironically he's a tattoo artist. I swear he took the job simply because he's a damn coward. I don't understand what y/n sees in him, and yet somehow she chooses to date him of all people. Kai is docile, timid, and to be honest if it weren't for the fact he killed three people during initiation this year you'd think he'd belong in Amity.

Jealousy is a poison that I fall victim to every time, and watching her fawn over him makes my blood fucking boil. Kai killed three initiates so he wouldn't get kicked out of initiation. He was a weak coward, but something about him screams danger. Throughout the time I had taught him he was a predator, doing what's needed to survive while dressed in sheep's clothing. Ironically enough he also takes up the job of defending snipers. I have no doubt he took the job because he's almost never called out onto the field, and people in that position could go their whole lives without once getting in a fight with enemies.

It's stupid because here I am, in the middle of an important meeting and all I can focus on was the image of her grinding against Kai on the dance floor. It should've been me, not that creep. Just from imagining it I have to subtly adjust my pants. God I would love to just toss Kai over the chasm and-"

"Eric." Max's tense tone finally breaks me free of my thoughts. "How do you think we should handle the situation."

I pause. What situation? This meeting... it was about Factionless starting to get too rowdy or whatever. "Which part of the situation? The Factionless are acting out, what are the believed causes, how much risk are the Abnegation who help them are in? The Factionless are bigger than all of our factions combined." Good enough save... I hope.

Max rolls his eyes. Shit.

"So far it's only a small group," I look up at Maverick as he speaks, "and we're yet to see them attack the Abnegation. All the Factionless have done so far is raid five Amity trucks, with only two Amity injured so far. There does appear to be someone organizing their attacks. Kevin Atos, Divergent, and has been evading our capture for the past few months since the Choosing Ceremony." Maverick runs a tattooed hand through his firey hair, then looks back through the documents.

"How do we know it's Kevin? Is he taking part in the raids, do we see him at any points in the raid?"

Jade then scowls at me accusingly, her blue eyes like bullets. She flips her black hair off her shoulder, "Are you implying Kevin is innocent?"

I grimace, "Hardly, I'm simply asking for how we know he takes part in these raids. More specificly, will we need to draw him out. We have seven extremely skilled snipers, meaning we finally have an opportunity to take him out. Without a leader the raiders will temporarily be distraut. That's when a special ops team swoops in and captures everyone who took part in the raids. From there we interrogate, and capture all the Factionless who aided the raiders. Then-"

"Whose to say the entirety of the Factionless don't join up in arms and rebel as a whole. Those raiders could become martyrs," Jade interrupts.

I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles. "Well maybe if you didn't interrupt I could get to that. Yes we will execute all the Factionless we deemed guilty. However, those raiders had weapons, and sure they could've scavanged them, but it's extremely possible a Dauntless member could be helping them."

Jeanine finally speaks up, "If you find someone guilty we could then hack the records, make everyone who researches the situation think the traitor is divergent."

Max nods in agreement with the Erudite leader, "It's very likely the traitor is Divergent anyway. And if we don't find anyone guilty, we'll just find someone suspected of being Divergent, Erudite will alter the evidence."

While useful to our cause, framing someone of Divergentence, especially if they're 100% innocent, put a foul taste in my mouth. "What if someone from Erudite also helped coordinate the attacks, or help the raiders get weapons. Kevin came from Amity. He may be smart, but not that smart. Either way, we hunt down everyone who was involved, we'll check each faction if we have to, there must be at least one faction traitor, wether we make up one or not. The Factionless will learn their place, and they won't question our authority or justice." The other Dauntless leaders, Maverick, Jade, Max, Mira all pitch in bouncing ideas around. In the end they settle on my plan.

"Y/n, we need to talk." She turns to me with a hard glare, the squad she's training look absolutely exhausted. Ever since we broke up she been training her squads thrice as hard, especially James.

"If you've come to apologize again I'm not listening."

"It has nothing to do with that."

She turns to the five squads infront of her and orders them to hold a plank position until she returns. Absolutely evil, hot though.

We walk out into a more secluded area. "Talk." She commands.

"Factionless have been raiding Amity trucks, we need a skilled sniper to kill their leader."

"At ease!" She shouts towards the gym and I cam hear groans of relief from within. "It'll be nice to get out of the facility. When?"

"Four days from now. I'll be leading the attack, you'll be positioned in a skyscraper overlooking the Amity route where the attacks happen, we'll have a second sniper positioned further down the street near the corner just in case. The second you shoot Kevin Atos me and my men will dive in to apprehend the raiders, disable anyone who tried to run and any vehicles they try to use."

She crosses her arms, she's tense and i can tell by the steel gaze in her beautiful eyes I'm the reason. "Whose assigned as my guardian?"

The name tastes like bile and sulfur in my mouth, "Kai. That's all you need to know for now. Training will be in the southern gym, floor 02, at 0400. You're dismissed."

She turns, sharp and quick, her braid almost smacks my face. I try to turn away, to walk back to my office but I can't. I watch with absolute admiration as this powerful, amazingly smart woman walks away from me. For some reason it hurts, and a part of me that I have long tried and failed wants to pull her into my arms, to finally kiss her, and hold onto her and never let go.

I'm the first person in the gym the next morning. I wear only black sweatpants, no shirt or tank top. I take my time preparing the map, equipment, and warming myself up. Y/n is the first to arrive, soon followed by the three squads I had chosen for this mission. Her eyes drop to the fresh ink peeking over my waistband on my hip and I smirk. As much as I'd love to tease my ex, I have more pressing matters to focus on.

"Everyone at attention please! I will go over this plan only three times followed by four hours of training! Afterwards I'll quiz each of you on the plan and anyone who gets it wrong will stay an extra hour to clean this gym!" I point at the map set up on the board beside me. "Mrs. Dove our first sniper will be located of the 13th floor of this building here. Mr. Rivers," I point at Kai, "you are assigned as her guardian. She dies, you better be dead too. Mr. Bown you will be located on the 15th floor of this building here," I point at the building on the corner of the street. My lecture continues for another fifteen minutes before I finally assign everyone to their respective workouts.

Kai pales as I step onto his mat. "If you're gonna be a guardian you have to be prepared for hand-to-hand combat. Sure, you were decent during initiation but I haven't seen you fight since. Knock me down and I'll let you leave."

The only image better than my fist kissing Kai's jaw was the image of my beloved dagger asleep in my arms while wrapped in my hoodie. I must give the boy credit, he can take a punch, however he isn't very good at giving them. I'm grounded where I stand while Kai is light and moves around, he favors deceit in his attacks then hitting anywhere that's soft and sensitive. But that means nothing when you're hitting stone. Kai may land a few hits but I've barely moved. Jaw, gut, waist, back of the knees, this idiot barely knows how to fucking block!

I sweep Kai onto his ass yet again. "You're going to get her killed! Do you realize just how fucking pathetic you are! If trouble comes your way and you fail to protect her I will take sweet joy in killing you slowly," I seethe.

It was like something flipped in Kai, one moment he's a doe and the next a rabid dog. Kai movies faster than earlier but his movements are feral. A punch to my throat and I choke. His hands wrap around the crown of his skull and my face kisses his knee. I'm shoved to the floor. Punch after punch this kid doesn't stop.

I barely process someone pulling him off me.

"Eric!" It's muffled like I'm underwater.

I wrapped in someone's arms- no, not just a someone. My dagger, she looks like an angel. I don't dare speak because I'll say something stupid so I force my gaze away from her. Kai lays sprawled out, face first, on the mat.

"Eric!"

"M' fine... I'm fine. Just give me a damn second." I hate to see her look so worried, but the twisted part of me is happy to see her worried, to see that she cares. "Everyone out!"

Two burly men drag Kai out by his arms.

"What the hell do you see in that boy," I spit.

"Boy? He's only a year younger than us. And what I see in him is someone who won't treat my emotions like a damn joke."

"I already told you, it was never a joke to me, not after our first date. I fell for you, hard, and my love for you was genuine."

"You say that over and over, but it doesn't change the fact you initially asked me out as a joke. I don't care how many times you ask for forgiveness I won't-"

"I never asked for your forgiveness! Yes I apologized but I never asked for your forgiveness because I am unworthy of it. I hurt you and I own that, what I did to you was wrong and I own that, but not with pride, never with pride. You were innocent and undeserving of that cruelty, that is why I don't deserve your forgiveness." I look up at her, still slumped in her arms and oh how desperately I want to curl her hair behind her ear and kiss away the bruise on her cheek.

"You need to leave Kai."

"Eric." She purses her lips.

"No, listen. That boy is trouble. He is not the sweet boyfriend you think he is. Kai is like a wild dog, give him a treat and he'll roll over, put him in danger he'll leave you to die, threaten him and he-"

She drops me, the back of my head smacks the floor and my ears ring. "Jealous dickbag." One swift kick to my groin and I gag.

"That's fair I guess."

To my suprise y/n actually helps me to the medical wing, only to leave right as a nurse walked out to greet us.

For the remaining days of training I assigned Damien, a very buff and intimidating man to handle Kai's training while I walked the squads through our routines over and over till it was muscle memory.

Finally the day came. Breakfast before missions like this are always strangely quiet, and when looking out my windows the world looks unsettlingly calm. I grab my jacket, it still smells of her perfume. I've refused to wear it since we broke up in fear the scent would go away, but today I will wear it.

It's days like these that you need to take a moment to remember your mortality. So I take my time lacing my boots, and I give Muffin, my cat, a good scratch behind her ear before making my way to the ramp.

Everyone is already armed and in gear as I approached. The two snipers and their guardians aren't here for they left late in the night to sneak into their respective positions.

After a quick review of the plan we march out. We move on foot, silent and hidden by the long shadows cast by the rising sun.

I'm coiled tight, counting every second that ticks by.

It's a haunting sight, watching the Amity transport roll down the street. They don't sing like they always do, they know they're about to be attacked. I frown as inevitably the Factionless run out, they shoot the driver in his arm and the two Amity accompanying her drag her out and dash into a nearby building.

BANG!!!

My men and I rush out, the Factionless scream out orders, both trying to help Kevin, and escape. It's utter chaos, bullets fly past, innocent bystanders are running away and towards us in search of safety.

The medical team are split in three, two men aid the Amity, three men haul Kevin, whose screaming and cluching his wounded thigh, over to the group of bound Factionless, and the rest are spread out to help fallen soldiers.

I grunt as a bullet grazes my right bicep. I dive behind a pillar within a building and peeked to find my attacker. Instead I see a group of Factionless running up the stairs of the building y/n is in. "Shit."

"Carlos, how's the situation out there!"

Static buzzes in my ear right before he replies. "We've captured fifteen Factionless raiders, eight more are on the run with two of our squads hot on their tails. Daton and y/n have already adjusted their positions to help shoot them down!"

"Good, take command of the situation out here, I just saw a group run into y/n's building and I'm going in to intercept!"

I don't wait for a response as I charge in. I bound each step two at a time, multiple times I've already tried reaching y/n and Kai through their comms but all I get is static. Someone between y/n's message to Conor, and me running into the building someone scrambled the comms.

He doesn't see me, but I see him, that tuff of green hair making him stand out like a highlighter as he crawls to hide behind an old desk, the crazy bitch stabs his own leg too. If I had the time I would shoot Kai for running away and abandoning y/n, especially because he's faking injuries so everyone thinks him innocent.

Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. For every bruise and scratch I find on her will equal at least one broken bone.

Three more floors.

Please be alive.

Please.

Oh God please.

I almost cry in relief when I hear the sounds of fighting, she isn't dead. I rush into the room, and met with a fist in my face. I pay it back with a knife to my attackers throat, and just as the second guy comes at me I duck below his arm and stuff my knife through his throat into his mouth.

I turn to where y/n is, and I see red as I watch three men slam her to the ground.

Just as I grab my gun a bullet tears through my forearm. The pain is agonizing, but adrenaline is stronger. I drive straight through the Factionless man holding the gun. Arms wrap around my waist and haul me to the floor and straddles me. I barely process their faces or their ragged appearance. The third attacker kicks my head, but I keep my focus on stealing the second man's knife. The third attacker tries and fails to grab my wrist as I steal the knife. I dig the blade into the second attacker's bicep, and I rip it down tearing down to the elbow. As the second attacker falls off me I stab the third guy in his leg several times and he falls.

I get up in time to see the first guy aim his gun at y/n.

"No!"

I don't think, I just run. I slam straight into him and we tumble through the window. Sharp, breaking pain snaps through my right leg as I snags in metal scaffolding, but fortunately it saves me from plummeting like the first guy. I simply hang by my leg, my vision already turning splotchy.

"Eric!"

I cry out as I'm hauled back into the building, but before I can complain lips crash onto mine. I'd always imagined they'd taste like, but all I tasted was the blood from her split lip.

Just as quickly as her lips touched mine her hand cracked across my cheek.

"You fucking idiot Eric! What the hell were you thinking you could've died!"

"That I was saving an angel," I groan.

"Stop being romantic you almost died!"

"Says the girl that kissed me," I smile through the pain. My eyes roll back for a moment and my whole world spins as I'm hauled over her shoulder. "Ow."

"Shut up."

"Just stay awake Eric, please. Otherwise I'll haul your ass out of the afterlife and kill you all over again."

"Yes," I let out a pained grunt as she starts running down the stairs, "ma'am."

It's been three days and this room still smells of bleach and cleaning alcohol. I can't complain, I'm lucky to have gotten a private room here in the Dauntless medical wing, especially one with a view outside.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit. Thank you very much."

Despite my pain I can't help but to smile as I watch y/n enter the room. A bandage wraps around her bicep, and another peeks out over the waistband of her skirt right on her hip.

"How bad are your injuries." Her voice is soft like a lullaby. I could listen to it forever and never get bored. She sits down on the bed and places a hand on my chest and I hiss in mock pain. "Oh my gosh sorry."

I snatch her wrist as she pulls it away and laughed.

"Asshole, your lucky I can't slap you."

"Even if you did I wouldn't regret it. How are you?"

"You first Eric."

"Fine. I got grazed by a bullet on my bicep, got shot in the forearm. I got stabbed several times too," I gesture to my bandaged torso. "My leg got broken in three places, and I'm covered in bruises. Now tell me about you, I know it must be hard after Kai..." I may be cruel but I'm not heartless enough to dig at how he hurt her, the last thing she needs is me to mock her or sound like a jealous ass.

She sighs deeply and looks out the window, "Kai is going to be executed tomorrow. Not only did he abandon his station of protecting me, turns out he helped arm the Factionless, oh and there's rumors that he was Divergent! Why is it I trust the wrong men?"

I sigh, "It's not that you trust the wrong men, it's just that bad men are good manipulators."

"So? I'm from Erudite, I'm supposed to be smart-"

"You are smart, so fucking smart. Trust me, you have no idea how easy it is to manipulate the Erudite. Don't ever claim you're not smart because you're the smartest woman I know." I grip her hand.

"I'm suprised Four hasn't scolded me yet."

"Well if he does tell me so I can punch him."

We sit in silence, soaking up everything that has happened. I almost lost her, we kissed but I don't know if she truly wants me back, I almost died too, which is honestly terrifying.

"What are we?" I break the silence.

She shifts, her gaze moving from the window down to me. "I don't know, I mean we kissed so I guess lovers once more."

"Do you want to be? Lovers I mean. I know we kissed, but we were high on adrenaline, so that doesn't mean you should force yourself to be with me. So is that something you want?"

"I believe I do. Sometimes I really hate you, but you literally jumped out of a building to save me."

"And got stabbed."

"Yeah that too." She chuckles and I soak in every bit of her brief mirth. "I missed being with you, I was so happy back then. So honestly, I want to give us a second chance."

"Good because I really miss how cute you looked running around my apartment in the t-shirts and jackets you stole from me." We smile and she lays down beside me.

"Can I kiss you. When you almost die you really value those little things. Also when you kissed me it was way too brief for my opinion and romantic as it was."

"Only because I like you."

I cup both her cheeks, my arm hurts but I hardly care right now. I pull her down to me, my heart soars as our lips meet. Her lips taste like chocolate and I have no doubt she was eating some before coming here, I can taste a hint of the strawberries she loves to eat too. I sigh and tilt my head to deepen our kiss. I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

Eventually we pull away to catch our breaths and I look at her, my dagger in absolute awe before pulling her down into a second kiss. I tangle a hand in her hair unwilling to let her go. I want to drown in her, to stay in her arms and to never leave.

"Y/n, my dagger, my love, my stars in the sky," I whisper against her lips, "you are my everything."

We lay together, intertwined, safe in each other arms. I savor every second.

~~~

@inlovewith3

I hope you all enjoyed it. Too Blunt? Four x ex Candor reader coming soon!

[k0juki]

♡¸.•*'K0juki's Masterlist'*•.¸♡

Last update: 21. 8. 2024

Requests are OPEN!

Rules

Kimi Räikkönen

• Bodyguard!Kimi

• It's just a vase

• Such a tease *

• Race day

• Finnish

• She fell first, he fell harder trope

• You did great

• His girl

• Birthday boy

Mick Schumacher

Mafia!Mick Schumacher

• Mafia!Mick Schumacher

Charles Leclerc

• Charles dating girl who smokes

• "I believe you"

Max Verstappen

• Mafia!Max headcanons

Mafia!Max Verstappen

• Mafia!Max headcanons

• Revenge

• Carneval night

Lando Norris

Vampire hunter x vampire

• You don't wanna dance?

Joost Klein Eurovision

• Just be yourself

• That's what I like * /favorite/

• Jealous

• Joost's return

• Where have you been?

• Enjoying this moment *

• Wolf in sheep's clothing

• Kisses and cigarettes

• Good things take time /favorite/

Headcanons

• Dating Joost Klein hc.

• Cuddles

• Dad!Joost hc.

• Sleeping hc.

Blurbs

• You're mine

Ski Aggu

• Friends don't do that

Tyler Harrison (Alien: Romulus)

• it's waiting outside

Baby Lasagna Eurovision

Nothing yet...

Luke Castellan

Nothing yet...

Jesse tlou2

• Burned cake

Formula 1 Jesse

• F1 Jesse

Peter (red riding hood 2011)

Nothing yet...

Liam Stewart

• Nothing to worry about

Headcanons

• Sleepy headcanons

Samuel "Sam" Witvicky

(Transformers)

Nothing yet...

Joe Black (Meet Joe Black)

Nothing yet...

Peeta Mellark

Nothing yet...

Finnick Odair

Nothing yet...

Jasper Hale

Nothing yet...

Eric Coulter

Nothing yet...

Four Tobias Eaton

Nothing yet...

Deacon Frost

Nothing yet...

Will add more🩷

---

Kind anons here!

• 13. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

My favourite Quotes

Butterflies flying through open windows

Writing tips

General tips

Emotions

Relationship

[whiskeyswriting]

Preview of Part 4 for Natural

A/N: Hoping to finish the chapter this weekend to post sometime next week.

--

Eric steps back and starts pacing. “We can’t be seen together. And don’t think I’ll take it easier on you in training. As a matter of fact, I’ll make it more difficult.”

“I’d never expect anything different from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You take a step back and increase the distance between you. “You know exactly what I mean Eric. We have a mission to complete and we’re not here to make friends.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You have the chance to start over if anything goes wrong.”

“That’s where you’re mistake, Eric… I’m the one that doesn’t get a promised future. You do. You’re already a faction leader.”

--

Tag List: @taina-eny @ghostedgrim @l0nelygamer @icedragon46 @emma-andrea1 @biblophilefox82

[moonlit-jellies]

Hi! I’m new to tumblr, but I’ve recently got back into divergent and id love to have you write something on Eric!

Maybe something kind of cute with the reader showing a soft spot for them, but with everyone else he’s his usual grumpy self. Like maybe the reader can get away with calling him a certain nickname, and when someone else tries to tease him about it he gets pissed off..

Idk I’ve honestly never requested anything before so hopefully this makes sense 😬

Thank you

a/n: hi nonnie this is an amazing request (welcome to tumblr) and i am very excited to write this (im screaming internally this is my first request EVER so i am sending u a crisp high five through the computer)

eric coulter x reader (divergent)

ao3 link

wc: 363

warnings: implied canon typical violence, fluff

--

“Morning, sunshine!”

With his schedule the way it is, between training the initiates and leadership duties, you often don’t see Eric in the mornings. The rare mornings you do, it’s because he’s convincing you to stay in bed for five more minutes, and it’s never just five minutes.

So the two of you fell into a routine. You’d meet him for breakfast in the cafeteria, chat over a muffin or plate of eggs, and leave for the rest of the day a bit more content than you woke up that morning. Even the nickname, which came about with the sour mood his morning meetings often left him in, didn’t seem to bother him.

“Good morning,” he replies, dropping a muffin into your hand. Bran, the worst choice, which he evidently reads on your face. “It’s what was left.”

“Boo.” You break off a piece anyway, throwing it in your mouth. “It’s only mildly better than starving until lunch.”

“Mm.” He’s staring at you when you look up at him again.

“What’s up, sunshine?”

“Oh shut up.” There’s no malice in his voice, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re just lucky I showed up. I took a shift for someone down in storage this morning, and I have to run,” you glance at your watch, “in like 45 seconds.”

“Why are you so nice to people?”

“Because then if I want a day off, they’re more likely to take it.”

“Ew.”

“I know!”

As silence rests between you, simply taking in the morning, a group of initiates walks in, and you roll your eyes at their voices echoing through the cafeteria. Another glance at your watch makes you frown.

“Okay, I gotta go, sunshine-”

“That is so annoying.”

“Cope. I’ll see you later?”

You stand from your seat, leaning over the table to kiss his forehead, when you hear the nickname being repeated at the table of initiates. The look Eric shoots the initiates is nothing short of murderous, though he turns away when you gently smack his bicep.

“Play nice.” With another kiss, you smile. “Though they might need to learn a lesson.”

“Way ahead of you.”

[chloe-skywalker]

Thank You - Eric Coulter

Eric x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 237

Summary: Can Y/n convince Eric to let her have something she really wants to keep?

Masterlist

Divergent Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“What is that doing in my apartment?” Eric asked as he turned around after hearing the door unlock and open then close again. But as soon as he turned around he saw his girl standing there holding a puppy in her arms.

“Its our apartment.” Y/n pointed out as she rocked the puppy in her arms, ignoring his glare at the fluffy puppy in her arms.

“Y/n” Eric narrowed his eyes at her.

“I found him alone and abandon. He was starving and crying. I couldn't leave him.” Y/n sighed and gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

Eric watched her and a thought came to mind that made him smirk. So he walked over to and decided to poke some fun at his girl. “Your Amity is showing.”

“Shut up.” Y/n grumbled rolling her eyes at him before turning her attention back on the puppy.

Eric watched her interact with the baby dog before he came to the conclusion he knew was coming. “You're gonna keep him no matter what I say. Aren’t you?”

Eric sighed, narrowing his eyes playfully. He knew he couldn’t say no to what she wanted. “Fine.”

With Eric agreeing Y/n squeezed kissing him all over his cheeks.

“Thank you. I’ll thank you properly later.” Y/n winked at him in a very suggestive way. Which earned a growl from him and Y/n smirked in return.

taglist: @padawancat97