Eric Coulter Imagines

What If: He Likes Her

Y/N stood in the Dauntless training hall, observing the initiates as they worked through a new set of drills. Her mind was focused, but there was an underlying tension buzzing beneath the surface, the kind that always seemed to settle in the air whenever Eric was around.

It wasn't long before she felt his presence. She didn't need to see him to know he was there—his gaze had a way of settling on her, heavy and unyielding. Y/N stayed composed, keeping her attention on the trainees, refusing to let his presence get to her.

But then he was beside her, moving in with the same quiet confidence he always had, his steps deliberate and casual.

"Still babysitting them?" Eric's voice was low, smooth, and laced with the usual mockery.

Y/N didn't look at him, keeping her focus on the trainees. "Someone has to make sure they don't embarrass themselves."

He stepped closer, so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cool indifference in his tone. "You'd know all about that," he murmured, leaning in just slightly, his voice lowering. "Wouldn't you?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she refused to react. She kept her posture straight, her expression calm, but there was no ignoring the tension building between them. She had noticed something different in the way he'd been acting lately—subtle, but impossible to ignore. There was a boldness to him, a deliberate intensity in how close he stood, in the way he watched her.

She was used to his taunting, used to his dominance. But now, there was something more behind it. And she hated how it made her feel.

"You should focus on them," Y/N replied, trying to keep her tone even. "Not on me."

Eric's lips twitched into a smirk, but instead of backing off, he leaned in closer, his arm brushing against hers as he spoke. "Why? Am I distracting you?"

Y/N didn't answer immediately, her pulse quickening against her will. She could feel the heat of his body now, could sense the deliberate proximity. It was a game to him—a game that she wasn't sure she knew how to win. She had never been one to get flustered, but with Eric, the rules were different.

He shifted slightly, his hand grazing hers in a seemingly innocent movement, but the contact was enough to send a jolt through her. It wasn't the touch itself—it was the way he did it. Deliberate. Subtle. Just enough to get under her skin, to make her second-guess every move.

"I'm not distracted," Y/N finally said, her voice quieter than she intended, though she tried to keep it steady. "I'm focused."

Eric chuckled softly, and the sound made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Sure you are."

Before she could respond, he moved behind her, close enough that his chest nearly brushed against her back. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat as he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.

"You're not as good at hiding it as you think," he whispered, his voice low, intimate.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, and despite her best efforts, she felt heat rise to her cheeks. *Damn him.* He knew exactly what he was doing, and worse, he knew how it affected her. She hated that he had this power over her—that he could make her flustered with just a few carefully chosen words and subtle touches.

But she wasn't going to give in that easily.

She took a slow, steadying breath and turned slightly, enough to face him but still keep her composure. "I could say the same about you."

Eric's smirk widened, and there was a gleam in his eyes—like he enjoyed the challenge, like he was daring her to push back. "Oh?"

Y/N held his gaze, refusing to back down. "You're not as unreadable as you think. I know what you're doing."

His expression shifted just slightly, a flicker of something dark and amused passing through his eyes. He took a step closer, his hand brushing against her hip, lingering just long enough to make her heart race. "Do you?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to keep her breathing steady. The subtext was suffocating, and the worst part was, he knew it. He was testing her, pushing her limits in a way that felt more intimate than anything else they'd ever exchanged.

"I do," Y/N replied, her voice quieter now, though still holding a trace of defiance. She wasn't going to let him win, not this easily.

Eric's hand remained on her hip, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of her uniform, just enough to send a shiver down her spine. He leaned in again, his lips almost touching her ear. "Then tell me," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "What am I doing?"

Y/N's breath hitched, and for a moment, she was too flustered to respond. There was no denying it now—the heat, the tension, the way his touch lingered just a little too long. She could feel herself unraveling, just a little, and Eric was watching it all with a dark, twisted amusement.

"You're trying to prove something," Y/N finally managed to say, though her voice wasn't as steady as she'd hoped. "To me. To yourself. I don't know."

Eric's smirk softened into something more dangerous, his hand pressing slightly harder against her hip. "Maybe I am. Or maybe," he said, his lips brushing against her ear, "I just like watching you lose control."

The words sent a shiver through her, and Y/N hated how her body reacted. She clenched her jaw, determined to regain her composure, but the truth was, she was flustered. There was no hiding it anymore.

But Eric didn't stop. His fingers traced a slow line along her hip, and for the first time, Y/N felt herself falter. Her breathing was uneven, her pulse racing, and Eric knew it. He enjoyed it.

"You should get back to the initiates," Y/N said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction.

Eric didn't move. "Why? You're enjoying this."

Her cheeks flushed, and she bit down on her lip to keep from reacting, but the truth was, he was right. There was something addictive about the way he pushed her, the way he challenged her without ever openly admitting what he was doing.

Eric finally stepped back, his hand leaving her hip, but the heat of his touch lingered. "I'll be seeing you, Y/N," he said, his voice smooth and confident.

Y/N watched him walk away, her heart still pounding in her chest, her mind racing. He had gotten to her, and he knew it. But as much as she hated herself for reacting the way she did, there was something thrilling about it, too.

Eric was a problem. And she wasn't sure she knew how to solve it.