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#dauntless imagine
chloe-skywalker · 7 months
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A Safe Feeling - Eric Coulter
Eric x fem!reader
Warnings: 
Word count: 1,402
Requested: Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Jeannie Matthew and she divergent and she in a relationship with eric and her best froend is four and later tris please and thank you - @rachelcarroll1819
Authors Note: Thank you for requesting!
Masterlist
Divergent Masterlist
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“Mathews!” Eric called out with a smirk as he saw Y/n exit the hallway near the dining hall.
“You know I have a first name.” Y/n turned around crossing her arms over her chest. Eric knew she hated her mom’s views and being called by her old last name. She’s not Erudite anymore.
Eric gave a nod as he walked over to her, standing in front of her. “Yeah, but that’s for more intimate-”
“Shut up.” Y/n giggled and slapped him on the bicep as Eric chuckled, moving his hands to her hips.
“Where are you off to?” Eric asked as Y/n moved her arms to wrap around his neck. Normally Eric didn’t like showing PDA, unless it was to show she was taken.
“Need to talk to Four about some stuff.” She answered, tilting her head. It wasn’t easy to have Four as a best friend and date Eric. But the two agreed to be sival for her sake.
“Divergent stuff?” Eric spoke quietly, so no one would hear around him. When she had first told him about being Divergent, Eric didn’t take it well at first but then he realized he didn’t care. He loves her anyway.
“Will you keep it down. You know it could get me killed.” Even though he was quite Y/n still was scared at any possibility of anyone knowing. Being Divergent is a death sentence.
Eric nodded as a sigh of apology, moving his right hand up and down her back to comfort her growing nerves. “Is it about the nightmares?”
Y/n nodded with a grimace. “They have to do with my fears and with what I am, he's the best to talk to about it. And he’s my friend.”
Eric rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek at his sight irritation. “Don’t remind me.”
“You're lucky I know what part of that you're referring to.” Y/n smirked, poking him in the chest.
“Oh, what part?” Eric played along, hoping to stall her a little longer.
“The Four part. He’s my best friend, has been since initiation and it bothers you like no other.” Y/n smirked a little, but in her defense she tried to hide it.
Eric shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”
Y/n let out an amused soft laugh. “I’ve noticed.”
“You know I love you and I don’t care about the Divergent past, right?” He wanted to make sure she knew, he always made sure. Yeah he got annoyed that she’s friends with Four but her being Divergent? That doesn’t bother him.
y/n smiled. “I know. You always reassure me of that.”
Eric nodded. “And I’ll continue to.”
Y/n moved to leave his embrace, really needing to go see Four. “Love you.” 
Eric pulled her into a rough kiss before letting go of her waist and back. “Love ya too.”
“I’ll see you later.” Y/n smiled at him turning around and heading off to figure her nightmare, fear problem out.
^      ^      ^
After about an hour Four and Y/n sat down, joined by Tris.
“The only thing I can think of is that your fears are changing.” Four stated leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“But how can I have less fears then when we first came here? How can they change?” Y/n wondered out loud confused. Shouldn’t she have more over time not less?
“I don’t know, Y/n.” Four wished he could give her an explanation, but he had nothing.
“Maybe its Eric.” Tris said, jumping into the conversation.
“Huh?” Y/n turned to her younger friend with confusion and curiosity. Four looked to Tris with a furrowed expression.
“Well he’s protective of you. He’d kill for you, so what if the feeling of protection he gives you is making some of your fears go away.” Tris explained what she meant.
“She has a good point.” Four looked at Y/n.
“Well that’s a development.” Y/n let out an amused puff of air.
“Bad?” Tris tilted her head, looking at her friend trying to see how she was feeling about this new ‘development’ as she called it.
“No.” Y/n shook her head.
“He’s been worried. You should tell him.” Four stated. He may not get along with Eric but he could tell how worried he’s been over Y/n’s situation. Eric could hide it well but Four could still see it.
“Yeah.” Y/n spoke, grabbing her jacket before standing up and heading towards the door. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that. See ya both tomorrow.”
Once Y/n left Four and Tris she headed to the training room, knowing that Eric was training the intaties today. It wasn’t hard to find him once entering the big room. He stood out.
“Hey handsome.” Y/n said as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.
“Hey sexy.” He smirked, and as he expected her reaction was to slap him on his arm. It caused him to chuckle.
“Stop it.” Y/n laughed at his behavior. Always so different with her then around anyone else. “Can we talk?”\
“Yeah,” Eric was trying not to be worried. He turned his focus back to the intimates. “Intaites! We’re done for the day. Get out.”
After that they both headed to their shared apartment. They’d been sharing a living space since a little after they finished initiation. Once inside Eric shut the door behind them for privacy.
“So did you and Four figure out what's going on?” he asked and Y/n could see some concern in his eyes.
y/n nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah, about that.”
“What?” He asked gruffly.
Y/n went over and sat on their couch, Eric followed suit. “My nightmares have been odd. Like you knew and we found a few things out.” Y/n took a deep breath before continuing, looking him in the eyes. “I have less fears now. That’s why I keep reliving some of them. My nightmares seem to be the fears I still have.”
“How's this happening? Is it a Divergent thing?” Eric didn’t know much about Divergent. No one really did know anything about Divergents since they were killed on spot after being found out.
“No it’s not a Divergent thing.” She laughed lightly. Y/n leaned in and pulled him into a kiss. When she pulled away she told him. “Its a you thing.”
“Me?” Eric raised his brows in disbelief.
“Yup. You.” Y/n nodded in confirmation of his question.
“Can you explain?” he asked, still very confused. How is he the cause?
“Trus has this theory and Four and I agree with it.” Y/n scooted closer, grabbing his hands in hers. Smiling shyly up at him. “We think I’m having less face because you make me feel safe.”
“That's the goal.” Eric smirked proudly. That was the goal, to protect her. Make her feel safe. And he was relieved that nothing serious was wrong with her. “So many fears have you lost exactly?”
Y/n laughed in amusement towards his reaction. “Cocky much?”
Eric pulled her by the hips to straddle his lap. “Hey, if I’m responsible…”
He two was amused, but this was because of different reasons.
“Thank you.” Y/n thanked her tattooed brute. With the look of confusion back in his eyes, she continued. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Not exactly. You couldn’t. But thanks anyway and for protecting me and making me feel safe in general.”
Eric placed a hand on the back of her head and stared directly in her eyes. “You're mine. No one will harm you on my watch.”
Y/n smiled brightly at his declaration. “Don’t tell my mom.”
Eric scoffed. “I don’t tell your mom shit.”
“That's one of the reasons I love you.” Y/n smirked, leaning her forehead against his.
Eric grabbed her, pulling her closer, holding her tighter in his grip as he kissed the column of her neck. “What are the other reasons?”
Y/n let out a moan as he continued to kiss and suck on her neck. “Well if we head over to the bedroom I could-”
“Done” Eric said, effictley cutting her off. He stood up and carried her to their bedroom. All the while Y/n laughed at his actions and looked forward to the night's activities.
Taglist: @padawancat97
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kaiyaamin · 4 months
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Eric Coulter head cannons
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You and Eric’s relationship would be private with occasional kisses or he would hold your hand under the table or loosely around your chair.
He would be more of an asshole just to show everyone just because he's dating you doesn't mean he went soft. (but we all know he went a little soft😉).
THIS MAN WILL GET JEALOUS OVER ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING.
He would glare at anyone if they were doing bad or if a guy was flirting with you, Eric just comes and wraps his arms around you and kisses your neck or just fights the guy.
Training together and by that I mean just you sitting on top of him while he does pushups and getting a kiss for each one
He would totally have a weird workout schedule. Like you would wake up at 2 in the morning just to see Eric doing pushups. He looks at you. You look at him. And he continues. You go back to dreaming about how hot he was doing those pushups.😍
Eric would definitely be the type to have pet names for you like ‘princess’, ‘babe’, or ‘sweetheart’.
Eric is the kind of guy who is an asshole to everyone and you would never think he has a lover, but probably has the sweetest girlfriend in the whole faction.
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heliads · 3 months
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Hi! Hi! I have been reading your Eric Coulter fics and I don't know if you're still into Divergent but i can i request a eric coulter x fem!reader where they go from rivals to lovers and literally everyone in Dauntless has bets on them to be together?
'rumors of rivals' - eric coulter
masterlist
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Four’s got another pet project, but for once, it isn’t you.
It’s a habit of his, one he’d do best to kick. Although Four may like to keep his indifferent silence and pretend as if he were a shallow-hearted Dauntless through and through, he’s got a soft spot for the people he likes. He’s got a knack for finding similar souls and winning them over, even as he acts as if he couldn’t care less about any of you. He did this while you were an initiate, and now he’s repeating the process with one of his new trainees, a girl named Tris.
Since you don’t work the initiates, you haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting Tris Prior, although you’ve heard Four talk about her often enough that you have a good gauge of her likes, dislikes, and every single conversation she’s had with your friend. For someone who claims that he couldn’t care less about anyone but himself, Four’s awfully attentive to Tris.
It makes you laugh, both when he’s around and not. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, it seems that even the toughest of Dauntless fall victim to their hearts every now and then. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, that’s one test you won’t be failing. Four may have fallen in love, but not you. Not a chance. The only decent one around here is Four, and he’s clearly besotted with Tris. No other men even come to mind.
Four and Tris catch up to you, and he begins the introductions. “Y/N, this is Tris, the initiate I’ve been talking about. Tris, this is Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine.”
Tris smiles at you. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Four has said a lot of good things about you.”
You laugh. “It can’t be more than what he’s said about you, trust me. I think all of our conversations are now about you.”
Tris laughs too, evidently surprised at your camaraderie. “I’m sure he’ll argue with that, but I’m glad to hear it. I have to say, I knew what to expect from a Dauntless Leader, but you’re way nicer than I expected.”
You grin. “Oh, trust Four to talk up my reputation. We’re not all totally dramatic around here.”
Four rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. As if you’re not locked in one of the worst rivalries Dauntless has ever seen.”
Tris widens her eyes, curious. “What are you talking about?”
You fold your arms across your chest. “Four doesn’t mean anything because he doesn’t know what he’s saying. There’s nothing there.”
Four scoffs. “Of course there’s something there. Tris, Y/N’s just denying it because she’s too embarrassed to admit that she’s totally obsessed with beating Eric at everything.”
Tris claps a hand to her mouth. “Wait, I know what you’re talking about. Everyone in the faction has been gossiping about Eric and one of the other Leaders. You don’t mean that–”
“Yes,” you admit reluctantly. “The rumors are about me. They’re just jokes, though. Nothing to take seriously.”
Four arches a brow doubtfully. “Of course they’re not.”
You swat him in the shoulder. “Anything more on the subject and I’ll push you off a roof, Four. Watch your tone.”
Instead of taking your threat seriously, Four just cracks a rare grin and keeps his triumphant silence. In all honesty, he’s not wrong about the gossip, and neither is Tris. You have been rivals with a certain Eric Coulter for most of the time you’ve been at Dauntless, if not all of it, and beating Eric at anything from a fight in the ring to glowing recommendations from the other Dauntless Leaders does indeed make your day like nothing else.
At this point, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. There’s no way you could ever like Eric, he makes it impossible to so much as smile around him. He’s insufferable, that’s all, and he always has been.
You remember that from the very first day you arrived. Eric had been through initiation a year before you, so of course he swaggered about the faction like he knew everything and you knew nothing at all. It didn’t matter that you mastered every challenge that initiation set before you, it didn’t matter that, at the end of your training, you came out with the highest rank. No matter what, Eric would always boast that he’d done it better when he was an initiate. And, since the two of you weren’t in the same year, there was no way of proving him right or wrong.
Once you graduated initiation, your ill-fated relationship only took a turn for the worse. Both of you were gunning for positions as Dauntless Leaders, and did everything in your power to claw to the top. It was a common assumption that only one Leadership position would be vacated, meaning that one of you would succeed and one of you would do the worst thing possible for a Dauntless:  you would fail.
Instead, both of you were appointed as new Leaders, and now you’re forced to spend even more time with him than before. Eric is more hands on, especially with his new position as an initiation leader, whereas you’re more devoted to strategy and all the ways to keep Dauntless as a faction running as smoothly as possible. The two of you clash whenever you so much as step into a room together.
Over time, this rivalry has drawn the attention of the entire faction. There’s hardly a soul in Dauntless that hasn’t witnessed the two of you going for each other’s throats at some point. Last you heard, some faction members were even going so far as to place bets as to when the two of you would get together, but that’s absurd. You and Eric hate each other. There’s simply no way you’d actually manage to get over your mutual loathing to fall in love.
“He’s an unpredictable asshole, I don’t know what else you want me to say,” you growl to Four.
Instead of being answered by your friend, however, a new voice joins you, one that makes you want to put your fist through a wall. “Are you talking about me again, L/N? I’m touched.”
Four and Tris exchange some interesting glances, which you definitely don’t appreciate. You turn to glower at none other than Eric, who’s somehow emerged out of the throngs of Dauntless milling about to appear right by your side. It’s as if he was summoned from your mere thoughts alone.
“So you heard me talking about an unpredictable asshole and immediately assumed it was you? That’s lovely, I didn’t know you had such great self-esteem.” You hiss.
Eric just grins. “You’re always so kind to me. Truly, it makes my day.”
You glance to your opposite side, hoping to deflect onto Four, but you notice that he and Tris have somehow disappeared into the crowds again, leaving you alone with Eric. You’ll have to chide him about abandoning you later, once you manage to shake Eric again.
Eric notices the changing subject of your attention and chuckles. “They left already? Can’t say I blame them.”
“Neither can I,” you fire back. “Having to spend time with you isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy.”
“See, that’s the difference between the two of us,” Eric intones, holding up a finger appreciatively as he speaks, “There’s no punishment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It’s because I’m capable of doing anything to eliminate those who would rise against me. It’s what makes me a better Dauntless. I’m not surprised that you lack the courage.”
You groan in annoyance. “It’s a saying, Coulter. Goodness, I see why you’re not an Erudite. Critical thinking is not your strong suit.”
Unfortunately, Eric doesn’t seem particularly affected by this insult. “I’ll leave the critical thinking to you, L/N. The glory of battle is mine as always.”
You arch a brow. “Remind me who kicked your ass the last time we met in the ring? I’m sure the glory of battle was totally on your side then, too.”
Eric’s voice turns razor-sharp. “How about a rematch, then? Tonight. That is, if you can’t manage to talk yourself out of facing me again.”
You stop walking, meeting Eric’s eyes dead on. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Scared?”
“Not a chance,” he fires back. “I’ll see you then.”
With that, he stalks off, leaving you fuming yet again. You could name a hundred encounters that have taken place exactly like this one. It’s strange, you’ve always prided yourself on your control of your temper, but something about Eric Coulter just drags out every bit of irritation and passion from your heart.
Glancing around, you see that more than a few people have turned to look at you and Eric as you passed by, and are now whispering to each other. “Shut up,” you mutter at no one in particular, but it doesn’t seem to do anything to stop the flurry of gossip.
Great, now you’ll have another rumor to add to the mix. As if you needed any more. Grimacing to yourself, you set off again. You’ll be looking to tonight’s fight with Eric, if not for a release of anger than anything else. It would feel good to beat him up again, you decide, and it’s about time his ego got knocked down a peg or two.
Eric is waiting for you in the empty gym when you let yourself in later that night. The two of you arrive at the same time whenever one of you challenges the other to a fight. It’s become a sort of tradition. You know exactly when and where to find each other because you’ve done it so often. It comes to you like breathing, like living. Instinctive, intuitive. You and Eric may not see eye to eye on most subjects, but in the ring, it’s like he’s your double.
You and Eric face each other warily on the ring. There’s no one else here, not after hours, so the entire gym is empty. Even the smallest of sounds are amplified by the solitude, each shuffle of your feet from side to side sending ripples of echoes up to the high ceiling before bouncing back down again, creating ghosts of your every movement. The lights are dim. The shadows lengthen Eric’s already numerous tattoos, making him look as if the darkness could swallow him up entirely if you were to turn away for even one moment.
You lunge first, mostly as a feint to get his attention. At your level of fighting experience, both of you know better than to truly attack first. Eric aims a blow at your midsection, but you duck just in time, dropping low to kick his legs out from under him. Briefly, Eric loses his balance, but manages to regain it in time to send a returning strike your way.
On and on, the fight progresses, the tide rolling from you to him back to you again in an endless circle. Eric manages to pin you first and huffs out a triumphant breath, but you get him the next round. You’ve spent enough nights like this that every move seems familiar. Although the precise victor of the fights may switch off from night to night, the actions themselves have been done so many times that it feels like muscle memory.
You’re sure it’ll be a night just like any other, but then something strange happens when Eric wins again. Both of you have ended up on the surface of the mat, and after briefly striving for the upper hand, Eric manages to make it there first, and he swings his weight over you, pinning you to the ground. His hands lock your wrist onto the mat like cuffs. You try to throw him off again, but it doesn’t work, and the two of you rest there, panting from the exertion, but worst of all, looking at each other.
You wait for Eric to move off of you and begin the cycle again, but strangely enough, he doesn’t. Instead, Eric looks, he looks at you like he’s never seen you before in his entire life. You feel as if you couldn’t move a muscle, and lie there perfectly still. One twitch of a limb, one wrong breath, and he might react, or worst of all, leave. You don’t know why, but you know for certain that shattering this moment would destroy you both.
Slowly, carefully, Eric releases his hold on your arms, but you don’t swing at him. The erratic rise and fall of his chest has slowed as easy breath returns to him, but when he had held you down moments ago, you could still feel his pulse thundering in his veins, tumultuous and irreverent like the clash of a thunderstorm.
“Y/N,” Eric whispers, low in his throat and urgent. You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure that there is anything to say, not without giving something away, a secret so terrible and all-consuming that to utter it aloud would use up all of you, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of a person who had once been you.
He’s waiting. For what, you don’t know. Or, you don’t want to know. Both of you are on a precipice, the edge tall and mighty, but unlike the roof back at the entrance to Dauntless initiation, you do not know that the fall won’t kill you. You could survive this jump, sure. But you could also break your bones in the leaping, and come out of this a ruined version of someone who had thought they knew everything about Eric Coulter, and then learned otherwise.
The indecision is too great, and so you do something utterly befitting someone of your station, and you run. Eric doesn’t move when you suddenly slip out from under him, nor does he stop you when you leave the gym. It isn’t a Dauntless move to flee from a fight, but then again, you transferred here from your home faction in the Choosing Ceremony, so the habits of the brave haven’t been instilled in you completely. You still, it seems, have a lot to learn.
The walk back to your apartment seems treacherous. There aren’t that many people out at this time of night, but you swear that of those who remain, every eye is on you. Haven’t you heard the rumors? Isn’t it true that these people have guessed what you are when it comes to Eric Coulter? If they see you, they will know.
You crawl into your bed and hope for sleep, but nothing comes. You stare at your ceiling in the dark, wondering what you’ve done. You’ve claimed to hate Eric for a very long time, but the way you felt in that ring, with him looking down at you– None of that was hate. You haven’t felt an absence of anger like that in such a long time that you’ve almost forgotten how to name that emotion entirely.
You get up the next morning, exhausted and confused, and complete your daily duties in somewhat of a haze. Every one of your moves feels mechanical. Eric is busy with the initiates, so your paths shouldn’t cross. When he finds you later that day, then it must mean that he sought you out intentionally. You’re not sure if that’s for better or worse.
You do your best to shake him, but he tracks you down eventually, pulling you into an empty room and shutting the door behind him. “Y/N,” he says urgently. “We should talk about last night.”
You don’t want to, not when the way he says your name reminds you of the way he’d whispered it last night, soft and careful, none of the things you have ever associated with Eric. It wasn’t as torturous as you expected, being alone with him without a fight to separate you. In fact, if you weren’t on guard, you would even admit that you liked it.
When you remain silent, Eric sighs, frustration beginning to tinge back into his breath again. “I know something happened. We can’t just pretend otherwise.”
You glance back up at him. “Can’t we?” You ask. “We can go back to fighting all the time. I’m sure it would come easily to both of us.”
You’ve become an expert at provoking him over the years, but now, in the face of all your attempts, Eric’s gaze remains neutral. “Is that what you want?”
Yes, you start to say, but for some reason the words dry up in your throat and the only thing that comes out is a terrible, awful exhale, “No.”
Eric hasn’t let go of your hand since he pulled you into this room. He seems to remember it now, his thumb rubbing light circles back and forth against your wrist. “Neither do I. Turns out, the only thing I like better than fighting you is when we aren’t fighting at all.”
You’ve never understood it when people say their heart skipped a beat, but you feel it now, the stuttering of desperate hope locked between your ribs. “So– you want–”
“You, Y/N,” Eric interrupts. “I want you. I always have.”
When he kisses you, it tastes like victory. Hot, brave, triumphant. A thousand nights undefeated in the ring couldn’t light you up with a fire half this bright. Sometimes, the rumors are true, and sometimes, the very man you thought was your greatest rival was instead your best love. Eric is all of these things, but most importantly, he is yours.
requested by @simoneashwinis, i hope you enjoy!
divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozzynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alexs-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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minihotdog · 10 months
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Fearless Magazine
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Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
Prompt:
A mysterious stranger leaves an item of the main character’s front door with a note attached saying “For a rainy day”
***
“If you like him just go and tell him,” Lynn says to me curtly
“And what if he doesn’t like me and is just trying to use me?” I say exasperated.
Lynn looks up from her lunch to face me, “He kissed you, what more do you need? A proposal?”
I sigh and rest my head on my hand, “We both know his reputation.”
Eric was well known for a loner but when he did entertain the presence of a woman it was always a hit and quit.
“Yeah, he’s a whore,” Lynn spits out the statement as if she was claiming that water is wet. “However, he did more with you than he’s done with any other girl.”
“What’s that?”
“Talked to you and acknowledged your presence afterwards,” She says before stuffing her face with food. “He’s probably been laying awake at night thinking about his beautiful Y/n,” Lynn says mockingly, she hugs the air and makes kissy noises. I ball up a napkin and throw it at her while she laughs.
“He made his move, your turn.”
“Ugh! Why is this so complicated?” I ask myself while rubbing my forehead with my fingers.
“I still can’t believe big bad Eric is a softie for you!” 
“Whatever! I’m going back to work!”
***
All day Eric and I caught eachother’s eye. At one point he even winked at me.
I don’t wanna be another girl you charm and then throw off to the side.
I sit on my bed against the wall. My thoughts going back to the night he kissed me, the way his hands felt on me, his soft lips on mine.
The dating cultures of Amity and Dauntless were complete opposites. Dauntless moved too fast. You meet someone and by the first date you are together, left to figure things out as you go.
In Amity, you begin by leaving a gift of the person’s doorstep and if theyre interested, they’ll leave on on yours. Each gift comes with a note telling them about yourself and your favorite things, in hopes that you have some in common. From there you’ll meet in person and go for a walk or sit down and get to know each other. 
Maybe I should give him a gift.
Eric’s Pov
I sit on my couch with my useless leg propped up by a pillow flipping through a book I’ve read a thousand times. *Knock* *Knock*
Who the fuck is that?
I grab my crutch off the coffee table and rock myself forward in a huff. I frown to myself thinking about all the times I took having two working legs for granted.
I look through the peephole.
Oh my fucking god not this again.
I open the door and come face to face with the last person I wanted to see: the faction gossip.
“Hello, Samantha. What can I do for you?” I try my best to be nice to an elder but pieces of my dislike for her seep through.
“What’s this someone left on your doorstep?” She pries.
“I don’t know, I didn’t know it was there.” 
She looks at me suspiciously pursing her lips, the deep wrinkles on her face showing contempt.
“You better not be fooling around with anymore girls,” She warns me before handing me the box that she no doubt opened before knocking on my door.
“I never was,” I defend myself. The glare she shoots my way almost makes mine look like child’s play. “Ma’am,” I add quickly hoping she’d put the glare away. 
“Boy, don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the girls coming in and out of your room.” She puts her finger on my chest, poking me to emphasis her words. “There was that one with the funny accent and then a blonde one that was here the other day.”
“First off, the one with the accent was my ex girlfriend of two years, who hasn’t been here in months. And second, I didn’t have a blonde woman in my room recently.”
“Of course you did! She was the weird looking one with the short hair.” She argues.
“FOUR!?” I blurt out coming to the realization.
“Young man don’t you raise your voice at me!”
“Yes, ma’am, I didn’t mean to. Can I please go inside, I need to take my medication.” I lie while motioning to my cast, desperately trying to get away from her.
She waves her hand in a “go away” motion before turning away from my door.
I shut the door almost leaning against it with relief. I crutch my way back to my spot on the couch, sitting with the box on my lap. I examine the unexpected gift, I almost chortle at the polka-dot box stuck to the top as I open it. Inside lies a container with hot chocolate written across in red with a little santa in a sleigh and a note: “For a rainy day 🙂” written in cursive. 
I flip the note looking for a sender but find nothing. I can only assume it’s from Y/n, trying to court me with her Amity-ness. 
My grin stifles as I remember what Elder Samantha said, “You better not be fooling around with anymore girls!”
Is that what she’s been telling the faction? That I’m hopping bed to bed!?
My heart begins to feel heavy at the thought of Y/n hearing the rumors. I can only wonder what she’ll think of me when she does hear. As fierce as she is, deep down she’s still shy and delicate. She hasn’t been entirely conditioned to dauntless and the viciousness of the elders that live to complain about the changes in the faction, even improvements from when they were young.
What if she already knows?
Y/n’s Pov
“I forgot to put my name on it!”
Lynn hits her forehead with her hand. 
“Who else could it have been from?!” She looks at me flabbergasted. “I don’t understand these dating rituals. In Candor you just go up to someone and tell them ‘I like you’. None of these theatrics,” She says disgruntled. 
I frown at her, “I’d hate to get broken up by a Candor. They’d probably sit there and tell you every little thing that’s wrong with you until shrink,” I cross my arms. 
“That’s the good part! It helps you improve as a person.” 
We go silent upon hearing Eric’s crutch echo down the hallway. He comes through the door, usually he’d at least glance in my direction but today he looked at the ground when he passed me.
“Uh oh,” Lynn whispers before taking a sip of her latte. “Maybe he’s allergic to chocolate and thought you were trying to kill him.”
I shoot her a sharp look.
***
That day I noticed Eric was more to himself than usual. He didn’t stay late with me as he had the last two days. I wanted to ask him if he was alright but didn’t want to step out of bounds. 
Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he found another girl.
I fuss to myself. It was a friday night and I was cooped up in my bedroom ignoring Lynn’s texts telling me to come out. 
Maybe I should go out and get my mind off him.
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giffingthingsss · 1 year
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pandalorian36 · 1 year
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Eric Coulter x Reader
Reader has been in love with Eric for ages little do they know he feels the same way and everything comes to light after a heated training session.
Gender neutral reader Warnings: Allusions to smut at the end. Mentions knives and guns.
Word count: 988
"Eric. I frown knocking on the door again "Eric?" the lock clicks and Eric appears his bulky form filling the gap "What?" I blink several times willing my brain to catch up with itself, Eric in nothing but loose grey sweats causing my brain to short circet. "Y/N?" I clear my throat "Erm, yea. Sorry. Max asked me to give you these." I hand him several folders "Right see you later, I'm going to go train."
"Y/N." I turn "Yea?"
"I'll head down with you. Just give me a sec." I smile tightly my pulse quickening slightly "Sounds great." He reappears with a t-shirt and dark trousers the two of us walking down to the training room. I start wrapping my hands while walking over to the punch bags running through basic exercises trying to ignore the six foot wall of muscle behind me.
Finishing with the punch bag I move to the targets picking up a handful of knives making the mistake of glancing over at Eric who is using the pull up bar arm muscles rippling. Turning away I pause a moment to clear my head before positioning my feet going to throw my first one yelping when a hand presses against my spine, swivelling around pressing the blade to the persons throat another to their stomach. "Good reflexs." I relax pulling away "Is that your idea of funny?" he chuckles holding up his hands "Sorry, all I was going to say was straighten your spine." I glare "I was about to until you interupted."
He grins picking up his own knifes "How about a little compotition?" I raise an eyebrow feeling confident, he's skilled with a gun but I know I am better with knives "Alright, what are the stakes?" he grins flipping his knife around "If I win I get to kiss you somewhere of my choosing," he pauses while I feel my cheeks heating "If you win you can have a whole weekend off."
"Really?" he nods and I grin "Alright then. Five throws, highest score wins."
I throw my first knife hitting just above the cross at the centre. He throws his hitting the edge of the inner circle. Smirking slightly I throw my next two hitting left and right of cross in a tight group. Eric hits the centre ring of too the left with his second and third. Fourth and fifth both hitting dead centre. I throw my fourth hitting the centre mark dead on and flick my wrist back ready to throw my fifth when Eric brushes up against my back causing me to release the dagger to early hitting the outer circle. "Looks like I win."
I scowl turning to face him "You distracted me." he chuckles leaning down "I win." I take a step back breath hitching "I errr." He grins tilting my chin up with a finger "You alright darlin?" I nod breathing heavily "Yep. Fine. Fine." He leans closer backing me up into a wall one hand resting above my head "You think I don't notice the stares? How your eyes always linger. Don't worry I do it too."
His lips press against mine his hands wrapping under my thighs lifting me up against the wall. I loop them around his waist arms wrapping around his neck as his tounge pushes past my lips. A soft moan escapes my throat making him pull away grinning pupils blown wide "Been wanting to do that for a while." I smile breathing heavily "Feel free to do it again." he chuckles kissing me again one hand cupping the back of my head deepening the kiss.
"Perhaps we should make this a regular training exercise." I grin feeling light headed as I drop my feet back to the floor "I like the sound of that." he grins kissing me again leaving me breathless and weak kneed "Same time tomorrow." he leaves and I stare after him in shock before recovering enough to go after him slamming my fist against his door "Eric!"
He opens the door smirking "Can I help sweetheart?" I scowl pushing him in the chest "You can't just kiss me like that then walk away. That's... That's.." he smirks backing me into his door "That's what?" I clear my throat frowning "Its ummm." he leans down grinning "What do you want to say love?" I scowl crossing my arms "I don't think its fair the power you hold over me. I've been in love with you for the past year then you finally kiss me and you just leave."
I feel my eyes widen shit I shouldn't have said that. Eric takes a step back "What?" I shake my head "Nothing. No it doesn't matter. I'm just going to go." Large hands wrap around my wrists preventing me from leaving lips crashing into my own. I relax into his grip as his hands slip around my waist "Don't go." I nod "Okay." he frowns grip tightening "I'm not good with words. Or feelings." I smile as he leans down again for a much softer kiss fingers brushing against my cheek "Your smart, strong, stunning. Ever since you knocked me to the ground in initiation I've wanted to tell you." I smile softly hands resting on his chest "You don't have to say anything if you don't want..."
"I love you."
I think my heart skips a beat as I move my hands around his neck "So what do we do now?" he grins "Now I've got you, I'm never letting you go." he steps back sitting on the sofa and pulling me into his lap something bright shining in his eyes I've never seen before. "What?" he shrugs grinning "Just looking forward to our next training session." I chuckle leaning so our lips are almost touching "We could have our own private training session right now." smirking his grip tightens "I like the sound of that." 
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ratstuckinamarble · 16 days
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there are many ways to boop~
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Oh so many >:)
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aghnareads · 2 years
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Peter Hayes x Amity! Reader
Imagine: The dauntless have just finished one of the parts of their “escape the government” plan, and ended up in Amity. While in Amity, the Amity-borns decide to help by some giving the dauntless food and water, some providing shelter, and some, like ourselves providing medical care. So when a certain cocky and arrogant dauntless is in need to someone to bandage his wounds, you are the first to answer his call.
——————————————————————————
On the East side of the Amity grounds, is a small cottage. A small pond lays beside it with flowers decorating every inch of the place, and smoke constantly brimming from the chimney. Inside the cottage, is a very cozy place. All a Amity-born needs, or atleast this one.
Y/n never thought she’d have Peter Hayes, the Candor-born and dauntless transfer laying in her little reading book chair, groaning in pain and wincing every few seconds at the deep cuts carved into his abdomen. Y/n fills a small bowl with water and a little Rubbing Alcohol , then grabs the clothes next to her and makes her way over to Peter. She offers a sympathetic smile as she leans down to press the cloth against his wounds. Until now, Peter hasn’t said a single word to her. She didn’t mind, maybe he was just embarrassed or shy about needed help, but help he needed nonetheless so she was going to provide that. “Thank you” Peter said, as you place a wrap around his now clean wounds. You look up in shock, thinking he wanted nothing to do with you but find him looking at you intensely. Almost a look of adoration in his eyes. Strange. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature on this planet, but you knew that just had to be your mind playing tricks on you. Or the blood loss from him.. “Do you know just how beautiful you are?” He says, clearing delusional from the blood loss. “Peter, don’t say things you don’t mean. You’ve lost to much blood” You say back, for some strange reason you kind of hope he meant it, but it had to be that blood loss. There’s no way Peter Hayes would be saying that about you, especially not after everything you’ve heard about him, and how mean he can be. “I am Candor-born darling, I only ever tell the truth.”And with that Peter passed out on your chair, leaving you to continue to wrap it wounds and think about all the things he just said.
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minhos-harness · 2 years
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okay but a divergent au for the maze runner characters
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spiderwarden · 6 months
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If there is ever doubt in her own skill, Minthara remembers that her mother wears scars from her own blade. Then all doubts melt away.
#[ 🕷️ ] —— musings#[ I’m playing the game don’t mind my musing ]#[ god I love House Baenre and what’s revealed through minth ]#[ Yvonnel ensures all of her children are just about more skilled than she so they will face the world dauntless ]#[ and I imagine that’s where Minthara gets her emotional approach from ]#[ which is a post I’ll make sometime but I get feelings over Yvonnel ]#[ and also the fact that Minthara in looks is a mini-copy/paste Yvonnel ]#[ a child who was loved and taught by her sisters and brothers ]#[ even to torture - her sister was the house interrogator and that’s where she learned it from ]#[ that’s the hard part because as much as Minth was also a victim of Drow culture she flourished and adored her own culture ]#[ she can see its faults but there is love lost there because she does LOVE her family ]#[ she will poison them and stab them on a moments notice but she will keep their memory close to her ]#[ the sister who taught her how to torture - the sister who taught her how to control her temper ]#[ the sister who taught her the magic behind her name sake ]#[ which if you didn’t know Minthara means ‘lesser rune’ in Drow ]#[ the sister who she thought hated her but she would throw treats at little minth and they weren’t poisoned ]#[ the brother who taught her swordplay and the brother who taught her how to watch and the third ]#[ in all of her resentment toward him? that third brother? would have taught her how to be open minded ]#[ the members of House Baenre walked so their little Minthara could run ]
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kaiyaamin · 4 months
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this man can run me over and I would love him still!!!
ALSO, CAN WE JUST TAKE A MOMENT TO APPRECIATE THIS MAN'S ARMS!!!!!
BTW I am taking requests
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heliads · 2 months
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first of all i just wanted to say that i’m actually in love with your writing and i can’t wait to read more from you!! anyway i was thinking of some good ol’ peter hayes x fem!reader where they were both in candor together and hated each others GUTS, but then when they transferred to dauntless, peter starts developing feelings for reader so he follows her around like some puppy but she’s still on the peter-hate-train. maybe also like he starts talking to some other female dauntless initiate and stops giving reader as much attention and she finally realizes that she likes him
(this is such a long request i’m so sorry)
thank you so much!!
'Bad Liars' - peter hayes
masterlist
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Starting out life on your own terms. A fresh page, a blank slate. This is why you decided to switch factions in your Choosing Ceremony, why you agreed to never see your family again except by something as meager as coincidence. Friends, neighbors, blood relations, all left behind with one swipe of a knife against your palm. It’s worth it, though. Running through the streets of your city like your world is on fire, you’re free for the first time in your memory. It’s just you in this new, grand place they call Dauntless.
Well, you and Peter Hayes.
Of all the people to come here with you, of course your fellow transfer from Candor would be Peter. Bold, callous Peter. Peter, who’s had it out for you since you were kids. No child should know that much bitter hatred, but the two of you have been arch rivals since you were small. You’d be lying if you said that leaving him behind didn’t factor into your decision to transfer from Candor to Dauntless even a little bit, but yet here he is anyway. Turns out you couldn’t run that far from him after all.
To you, it makes perfect sense that if Peter Hayes had to go anywhere, he would go to Dauntless. All throughout his time at Candor, for as long as you can remember Peter, he had been crafting his words to inflict as much misery as possible. In the eyes of the faction leaders, anything he said was fair game so long as he was telling the truth, and Peter did just that. He told his truth, which was precisely like reality except warped to cause as much hurt as he dared. 
Peter’s words were honed to a knife’s sharpness, easier for drawing blood than the syringes of your faction’s truth serum. Of course he would go here, where bullets are no longer how he shapes his syllables to spike into your throat but a real thing. Why bother with figurative pain if you can produce the genuine article?
The two of you had ended up here for precisely opposite reasons. Peter wanted to hurt, you wanted to fight back. Candor is full of self-righteous bullies who believe they’re doing the right thing by being uncommonly cruel to anyone they pass. In Dauntless, everyone is finally on a level playing field. If someone insults you, you fight them, and no amount of callous words can save you then. Talk is nothing if you can’t back it up with prowess. For someone who had to swallow plenty of poison back in Candor, Dauntless is like a holiday.
However, the one thing that makes your paradise fall short is the fact that Peter decided to come here with you. He had made his decision independently of you, of course, but you’re still infuriated about the whole affair. This was supposed to be your fresh start, your one chance to escape your past and become something no one expected of you. That’s the whole point of the Choosing Ceremony, isn’t it? To kill off the old you and transform into the best version of yourself?
That had been your plan, at least, and then Peter had made his choice. You wouldn’t go anywhere but Dauntless even if your entire faction transferred over here, but it did complicate things. You had hoped that you and Peter would always end up on opposite sides of the room, then opposite ends of the faction, and never come in contact again, but as per usual, it looks like Peter isn’t much inclined to follow your whims.
From the first day alone, you knew he was going to be trouble. You were one of the first to jump, fresh off the exhilaration of the free fall plunge from the top of the roof, and reeling in the lingering aftereffects of your largest adrenaline rush to date while waiting for the jumpers to take their turns off the edge. The room was crowded, more so with each new jumper to make their move, yet somehow in all that chaos, Peter managed to find you. It didn’t bode well for the remainder of initiation, to say the least.
You had been hoping that the two of you could exchange silent, wary eye contact and then move on, your past shattered and gone for good, but instead Peter wove his way through the throngs of people and came to a stop by your side.
“Look who we have here,” he says, drawing the words out, “Y/N L/N. I never thought you’d have the guts to come here.”
“And I always thought you’d be too much of a coward to leave Candor,” you reply. “Looks like we were both wrong.”
Peter’s eyes widen and he chuckles, evidently not expecting your retort. “Careful, L/N. Didn’t know you had such a sharp tongue.”
“You’ve known me for years,” you say, eyeing him coldly. “If you didn’t know that, you’re about to be very surprised indeed. I hope you didn’t set your hopes on making first place in initiation, Hayes, or you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
Up ahead, one of the initiation leaders is calling for the trainees to fall in after him. You take this opportunity to breeze past Peter, who’s standing there and staring openly, mouth agape. You’ve put up with his bullshit for many years now, always taking it silently in fear of jeopardizing your position in your faction, but no longer. You’re on even footing again for the first time in a very long time, and you have absolutely no intention of ever caving to Peter Hayes again.
For Peter, it seems, your decision is a very rude awakening. You immediately fling yourself into the intricacies of fighting and running and shooting, which causes you to rise quickly through the ranks of initiates, much to Peter’s chagrin. Although he’ll tell anyone in earshot that he’s only letting you do so well because he thinks it’s funny to watch you struggle, you can see the panic in Peter’s eyes when you crush one fight after another. You meant what you said, after all. It’s first place or nothing, and you don’t intend on settling for anything where Peter’s concerned.
Your rivalry becomes just as well known among your new friends in Dauntless as it was back in Candor. Hardly a day goes by without you and Peter getting in each other’s way, whether it be slamming each other into the ground during a fighting match in the ring or running yourselves ragged in an attempt to be faster, stronger, better. It’s like you can’t get away from him. 
Everywhere you go, Peter is there too. Staying late after initiation to get some more practice with throwing knives, he just so happens to choose the target right beside you. Walking over to the training gym in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep and might as well use the empty hours to improve, Peter seems to have the same bright idea to practice with the punching bags even despite the midnight hour. You don’t like the fact that Peter seems to have such a good knack for telling when you’re awake or asleep, you have half a mind that he might get frustrated of the close competition and take you out while you were sleeping, but he’s never gone that far.
Your friends seem to have a different view of the whole affair. Every time you complain to them about Peter never letting you have a moment’s peace, Tris and Christina, your closest friends in initiation, just exchange knowing looks and begin to tease you. They seem convinced that Peter doesn’t hate you but actually harbors a crush, which is beyond you. There’s no earthly way that Peter likes you. The two of you have despised each other since before you could talk. The whole idea is absurd.
Still, if you were nothing more than an unknowing bystander, you supposed you could see how the situation might be misconstrued. A lifetime of truth-telling in you has to admit that maybe it is a little suspicious that you and Peter can’t seem to go an hour or two without running into each other, that Peter is both your greatest threat and the object of your every waking thought. It’s just because you want to beat him so badly, of course. Of course. If it weren’t, though. If you were thinking of him not because of hatred but for something more–
You wouldn’t. You would never be so foolish. This is how Peter wins, by twisting his way inside your mind until you’re second-guessing every single thing he does, and you’d die before you let him win. If he’s willing to play the game, though, you’ll do anything to beat him at his own technique, so you up the ante and repeat it right back to him. 
Sarcastic comments slip from your tongue whenever you see him. When Four takes the initiates out on guided runs, you make sure you’re jogging right by Peter the whole time, your pace steadily increasing until both of you end each race at a sprint. The rest of the trainees have learned to leave two targets side by side for you two whenever it’s time for sharpshooting practice, and heaven help the hapless initiate who asks one of you to spar as if the other wasn’t standing right there, guarding their territory.
It doesn’t mean anything, though. You still hate Peter to the ends of the earth, and everyone around you had better know it, too. You despise him as much as it’s physically possible for a human being to hate anyone, but then he starts spending a lot of time with someone else, and suddenly the hatred is far harder to come by than it ever was, and you’re not sure what to do with yourself at all.
He’s spending time with another girl. Which isn’t bad, of course. He’s got friends. You do too. But. One time at dinner, you heard Tris saying that he’s looking at the girl the same way he used to look at you, and she wasn’t talking about hate, and you cannot tell whether you were supposed to deny that he’d ever done anything but hate you or be furious at this new girl for stealing his attention away from you, so you didn’t answer at all. You didn’t sleep a wink that night, and gave up a few hours in to try and train some more. He didn’t follow. He always follows. Not this time, though, and when you came back, he was quietly whispering with the other girl. Hatching sinister plans, no doubt, or planning to stab someone in the back. He didn’t even look at you when he came in. It was like he didn’t even care.
You feel sick to your stomach. You intentionally ask other trainees to spar in the ring– look, Peter isn’t the only one capable of moving on– but it’s like he doesn’t even notice. You want to slam your hands against his chest and shout in his face, do anything to make him look at you, but instead you stay sullen and quiet and pretend like nothing has changed even though everything, everything, has.
It hits you, about two weeks later, what the problem is. Like a lightning strike in the dark of night, all of a sudden you know, a knowledge that had been blank and absent before but totally unavoidable now. You like Peter. Hell, you might even love him, if you gave him that chance in your heart. Peter might have liked you, but you brushed him off for so long that he moved on.
It hurts like a jagged hole in your heart. Someone has reached inside and broken your ribs to claw this feeling out from where you’ve so cleverly hidden it, and there’s no disguising the horror of the wound now. You couldn’t escape it if you tried.
You found out this truth about yourself in the middle of a Dauntless party, and it kills your mood completely. You can’t stand the loud music or flashing lights anymore, so you put down your half-empty cup on one of the debris-strewn surfaces and make your way out. No one notices you leave. You’re a ghost on the outskirts of a celebration of life, and there is nothing here for you anymore.
You wander until you end up on the bridge overlooking the pit near the center of the Dauntless complex. You stand as close to the edge as you can, hands gripping the flimsy railing until you’re not sure your fingers could peel away from the rusting metal if you tried. If you’d felt any buzz from the party at all, you’ve sobered up by now. You have no idea how long you’ve been standing here, skin chilled by the drafts of the pit, and then a voice sounds from behind you, and you’re abruptly dragged back to reality once more.
“I thought you’d be back in there with the rest,” Peter says, coming to a stop beside you.
You don’t dare to look at him, opting instead to keep your eyes firmly trained on the drop over the edge of the pit. “I could say the same thing about you.”
Peter sounded genuinely curious when he asked, but your tone is harsher, colder. You still haven’t forgiven him for moving on just when you realized that you liked him, and it’s leaching into your voice. Peter chuckles even still. “No, not me. The best part just left.”
You risk a glance his way, and to your surprise, he’s looking at you. “Are you being honest with me, Peter?” You ask.
His face twists into chagrin. “Looks like we can’t beat the Candor out of ourselves after all, even despite all the training sessions we’ve pulled. I’ve tried, though.”
“You’ve done a good job,” you muse. “It’s me who needs to be fixed the most.”
Peter’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
You shake your head. Maybe you weren’t as sober as you thought. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Says who?” Peter asks plainly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
You regard him suspiciously. “You haven’t always.”
Peter has the grace to look embarrassed. “I’ve done things I regret.”
“I don’t believe you,” you say, and laugh to hide your heartbreak. “I know you, Peter Hayes. I know what you do. I’m not falling for it. Not again.”
“It worked before?” Peter asks, genuinely surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
This time you do laugh for real. “Why would I? And give you another weakness to exploit?”
Peter flinches as if you’ve slapped him. “I deserve that, probably, but I’ve been trying to be better.”
“Why?” You ask. “You’ve never cared what I thought, and you certainly don’t care about being better. Nothing about you makes sense, Peter. You’ve got a girl back there in the party who’s probably looking for you now, but instead you’re trying to apologize to me. You’ve never cared about that before.”
“But I do now,” Peter says, voice unexpectedly strong. When he turns the force of his gaze back on you again, you feel totally rooted in place, unable to move even if you wanted to. And, when he starts to move closer to you, one hand coming to rest on top of your fingers, you’re not sure that you do. “I do care. I’ve been trying to tell you that for weeks.”
“I thought you were excellent at telling the truth,” you whisper.
“So did I,” Peter replies. Hesitates, then says, “Only other people’s truth, it turns out. You were always my best secret. I wanted to keep you the most.”
Your breath sticks to your lungs, refusing to grant you release. None of this makes sense. Peter would never– But he is now, standing in front of you, telling you as much as he can. Peter still wants you. It’s up to you if you want him, too.
After everything he’s done to you over the years, you owe him nothing at all. He’s hurt you more times than you could count. When you’re cold, bitterly cold, freezing down to the bone with no way of rescue save your own rough and ragged principles, you burn everything around you. Clothes, shoes, furniture. Even people. Peter burned you, and so severe was the flame of your mutual hatred that it made it impossible for anything to grow between the two of you but a jealous wrath. 
Peter has left the cold of Candor and traded in his shivering bones for Dauntless’ natural warmth, and now he finally has the room to put out the fire again. He’s stamped out the inferno, or tried to, at least; but upon inspecting the last flattened spark, Peter can’t tell if he went too far. It is immensely difficult for him to discern if he has left anything of you but char and ash. 
What could have been a beautiful thing went up in smoke the moment he first raised a harsh word against you. Peter loves the truth, loves most of all to twist it, but in the end, the truth cannot help him here. Peter knows what he wants the truth to be, but the truth is no substitute for reality. It is up to you if you can ever forgive him, and no amount of pretty words on Peter’s end can change that.
It’s up to you, and for the first time since you came to Dauntless, you know precisely what you want. “I know what you mean,” you tell him carefully.
Peter’s face cracks in a tentative smile. “You know? So you–”
“I do,” you interrupt. “I like you, Peter.”
You have seen Peter furious, filled with righteous vengeance. You’ve seen him bloody and bruised on the other end of a sparring ring. You thought that the brightest emotion you’d ever see on him was the pure flame of hatred, but it turns out there’s one thing better than wrath, and that’s sheer, incandescent joy. He wears it now like the finest of luxuries, and you decide that you’d like to see it many times again. As it turns out, you’ll have plenty of chances.
divergent tag list: @blondsauduun, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @crazyhearttragedy, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @alex-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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minihotdog · 7 months
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Fearless Magazine
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Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
I walk down the stairs of the pit and see Lynn at the bar.
“Lynn!”
She turns to greet me.
“Finally!” She gives me a big hug. “You never come out!”
She looks me up and down, “You trying to get into trouble tonight?”
I jokingly strike a pose and she laughs. I rummaged through my closet trying to find an outfit I didn’t hate and ended up wearing a mini skirt, knee high socks, platform converse and a tube top - all black, of course, for a night out.
“Look familiar,” I motion to the jewelry that Lynn bought me to celebrate conquering my fear, snake earrings with a matching necklace and bracelet.
She giggles, “Your grumpy little boyfriend is standing in the corner staring through your soul right now.”
“Who?” I turn to look but she stops me.
“Don’t look! Let him come to you.”
I look at her puzzled, “I thought you didn’t play games.”
“I think they’re kind of fun now,” She smirks.
I jokingly hit her arm, “Oh my goodness, you’re insufferable.”
“Whatever, let’s dance.” She grabs my hand and drags me to the dancefloor.
“I’m not drunk enough for that,” I plead. She laughs maniacly.
***
Lynn and I steal everyone’s attention on the dancefloor, eventually I leave her with the new friend she had just made alone and head to the bar.
I feel a presence behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
My head swings around to see Eric towering over me. 
“Getting drinks,” I say confused. He snickers at me and moves to lean on the bartop.
“Your friend kept looking at me while the two of you were dancing. You might be too naive to see, but she wanted you to make me jealous.”
I roll my eyes at him, “I can’t imagine you getting jealous over me, Eric.”
He turns his head to look at me, his eyes sparkling at me.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“You probably have some girl lined up here somewhere.”
His face drops, “Y/n, I promise you I’m not the person you might think I am.”
He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me into his chest. “And if I was would I do this?” His lips meet mine for the first time since that night in the office. I melt into him, and my hands caress the back of his neck.
He pulls away leaving me dazed.
“W-what’s that supposed to prove?” I ask, still looking at his lips.
He snickers, “I was hoping that it’d prove I wouldn't hide wanting you in front of my alleged lineup of women.”
I rest my hands on his chest. I look up into his eyes and smile softly at him. 
“I got your gift by the way.”
I bury my face into his neck, heat rises to my face in embarrassment.
“You’re not supposed to talk about it!”
He laughs, “You didn’t even leave me a name, I had to make sure it was you.”
He plants a kiss on my forehead, “Lets get out of here.”
“Where’d you wanna go?”
“Well, there aren’t many places I can go right in my current state, so how about my place?”
“Ok, that sounds great.” I shoot him a big smile. “Just let me tell Lynn-” I turn my head to find my best friend in the middle of a make out session with the red haired girl she was talking to earlier. 
“Looks like it won’t be a problem then,” Eric jokes. He turns and grabs my hand before crutching his way around the crowd of people.
“Eric?” He looks at me. “How’d you get down here?”
He laughs heartily.
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Prove Them Wrong Masterlist
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Fandom: Divergent  Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader  Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. 
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
chapter 15
chapter 16
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tojisun · 6 months
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i saw this and was IMMEDIATELY reminded of biker!simon.
like imagine reader casually sneaking her hands up and palming his torso oh lord.
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNkyRyKB/
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HE IS SO??? RESPONSIVE??? MY STOMACH FLUTTERED???? no because u are right!!! that is sooo biker!simon
AND!!! CHASE ATLANTIC??? YEAH OH MY GOD YEAH!! i thought biker!simon would be more into atmospheric rock but i can so see him jamming to chase atlantic while out on a ride. got the walls on repeat or right here or (and just imagine him thinkin about u as he plays this song) church teeheee
and beloved anon omg?? calling my silly lil drabbles magic got me swooninnn. u after my heart sweet luv?? bc u can have it rn <33
!! suggestive - minors dni; groping in public; somewhat body worship // im sorry for how short this is :(( hope u would still like it my luvs
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you’re handsy today, simon muses, feeling his blood thrum at the slow glide of your hands along his hips. they’re just gentle touches with no purpose – mindless swirls of your acrylics against his sweats, your fingers spread out on his thighs and simon almost coos at just how small your hands look against his legs. 
simon loves it when you’re like this – tits pressed against his solid back, your hands lax as they find purchase on his hips. it took you a while to trust yourself to hold instead of just wrapping your arms around his middle, and simon thinks how he would never want to go back to those days when your hands aren’t mapping his body.
because there is something so addicting to the way you touch him – soft. gentle. reverent.
he melts into you, his eyes fluttering with every slide because, and god simon wonders if he can ever find the words to tell you so, it feels like your perfect hands are cradling all that he is – scars and bruises and once-jaded heart and all.
he groans when your hands dip closer to his pelvis, massaging at the crinkles between his thighs and his hips. your hold gains strength, it gains power, but simon feels it all so gently, like you are showing him the parts of his body that you adore. 
he feels choked up, overwhelmed all of a sudden. 
you tap twice on the edges of his lap – can i?
simon lets go of the handlebar just long enough to tap twice on the back of your palm – go on.
and so you do: your hands drag along the inside of his thighs, greedy as they tease his parted legs, your palms warm as they hitch closer, higher. even more daring.
simon moans, his head falling back and bumping against your helmet when your hand finally falls on top of his chub, the pads of your fingers swirling against the sensitive head of it. he bares his neck at the quiet pleasure, the drags of ecstasy crawling in an almost muted way as you continue to just paw at him softly.
there is no buildup of desperation or carnal lust licking up along his veins, just sensual touching.
worshipping.
you stroke him through his sweats, your hand turning into a loose fist to cup his rising tent. a groan reverberates from his chest before it slips from his lips, and he wonders if you felt it with how much you are pressed to him. if your body could feel just how much you affect him – your dauntless supremacy unquestioned even as simon navigates the roads.
he feels you tap twice onto his thigh again – more?
and simon pretends he isn’t shaking as he responds with his two taps – please.
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alright dick and jason animosity is great but you know what's more fun? dick and jason synergy. imagine them on a mission in a gala or ball, seamlessly trading off working the floor and sneaking around, using their respective skillsets in tandem to get in and out with no one the wiser. imagine bruce and alfred both being busy/absent so they take on the role of the dads, cooking and helping with school. imagine bruce getting injured and suddenly somehow there are two batmen? never in the same place at the same time but one of them took out the joker's goons with robin and the other stopped a bomb plot with orphan halfway across the city. imagine jason getting dick out of spyral. imagine dick helping jason relearn some of those robin acrobatics. imagine the two of them going on walks together when the house gets too loud and just enjoying the feeling of not being alone.
imagine dick, the rock of the family, when he can't be the calm older brother anymore, turning to jason. and jason steps up, effortlessly, training with damian and cooking and looking after the others on patrol and guiding duke and patching everyone up until dick can catch his breath.
imagine jason, the dauntless, indomitable protector, when he can't trust himself and the voice of the Pit is screaming in his head, turning to dick. and dick steps in, effortlessly, watching him, being his voice of reason, his Jiminy Cricket in his ear when he's on patrol, reminding him of everything he used to be as only his big brother could until the voice is quiet in jason's head again.
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