Eric Coulter Imagines

What If: New Toy (Part 1/2)

Eric had always been aware that Y/N was different—smart, capable, but distant in ways that intrigued him. What he hadn't realized was how skilled she was when it came to weapons. She was a weapon instructor, sure, but he hadn't paid much attention to her work until the day he happened upon one of her prototypes.

It was late in the evening, and the training rooms were emptying out. Eric, making his rounds, noticed Y/N lingering in one of the weapon storage areas, hunched over a table. Her focus was sharp, hands moving with precision as she adjusted something on a small device. Eric leaned in, his curiosity piqued, but he didn't announce himself right away.

"What are you working on?" Eric's voice broke the silence, making Y/N glance up with a slight frown. He smirked, enjoying the momentary flicker of surprise in her eyes.

"Just something," Y/N replied, her tone casual, though she instinctively shifted her body to block the design from his view.

Eric raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Doesn't look like 'just something' to me."

Y/N hesitated, then stepped aside slightly, allowing him a better look at the prototype. It was sleek, deadly—a blade with an intricate design, modified to fold in on itself with a swift, near-silent motion. The craftsmanship was impressive, far beyond what he expected from a typical instructor.

Eric studied it for a moment, intrigued. "Not bad. But your balance is off." He tapped the blade's handle lightly. "Shift the weight distribution here. It'll make the movement smoother, faster."

Y/N's gaze flickered with surprise. She hadn't expected him to offer advice, let alone good advice. But she didn't argue. Instead, she nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I'll try that."

Days later, Eric was back in the training room when Y/N approached him, holding something small but clearly well-crafted in her hands. It was a customized weapon—sleek, compact, and deadly, just like he liked. She handed it to him without much fanfare, and as soon as it was in his grip, Eric knew it was perfect.

"This one's yours," Y/N said simply, her tone cool and collected. But there was something in the way she handed it over—a quiet understanding, an acknowledgment that this wasn't just any weapon. It was tailored to him, to his fighting style, to his personality.

Eric turned it over in his hands, testing the weight, the balance. It was flawless—almost as if Y/N had known exactly what he needed. He didn't say anything at first, but when he looked at her, there was a flicker of something unspoken between them.

"It's good," Eric finally said, his voice gruff. "I'll use it."

And use it he did.

The next mission came sooner than expected, and Eric took the customized weapon with him. It fit his hand like it was made for him—because it was. The blade moved with precision and speed, slicing through the air with deadly efficiency. The mission was a success, and his new weapon played no small part in that.

When he returned to Dauntless, word had already spread about his performance on the mission. The other instructors and leaders couldn't help but notice the new blade in his arsenal.

"What's with the new toy?" one of the senior leaders asked, eyeing the weapon with curiosity.

Eric smirked, his expression smug but reserved. "Custom job. Got a good source."

He didn't say more, didn't mention Y/N by name. But there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice, the pride that came from knowing that this wasn't just a weapon. It was something that connected them in a way he couldn't—or wouldn't—put into words.

And when he saw Y/N later, passing her in the hall, he didn't say anything either. He just glanced at her, the smirk still playing at his lips, and she nodded slightly in return. They didn't need words. They both knew.