Eric Coulter Imagines

What If: Eric's POV - His Possession

Eric wasn't the kind of guy who cared about anyone. Not really. It wasn't in his nature to be soft, to give in to those pointless emotions that made people weak. He had worked hard to build a reputation—a leader who didn't hesitate, who wasn't swayed by anyone or anything.

But Y/N had started to get under his skin, and that pissed him off more than he'd ever admit.

At first, it was amusing. She was different from the others. Quiet, strong, but not in the loud, boastful way most Dauntless people were. She had this Erudite calm about her, like she was always thinking, always calculating. That intrigued him. Her presence was a contradiction—so delicate in her black dress, but cold and composed, with a fierceness hidden underneath.

He couldn't help but push her. Every chance he got, he would throw a comment her way, poke at her, see how far she could go before she cracked. He wanted to see that fire behind her eyes, the way her lips would tighten just a little, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She tried so hard to stay in control, and Eric found himself drawn to that challenge.

The first time she cried in his arms, he had been confused. Y/N wasn't supposed to break like that. She was supposed to keep her composure, to stay untouchable. But she had crumbled into him, her face pressed into his chest, her body trembling as she let the tears fall.

And instead of feeling disgusted by her weakness, he had felt something else. A spark of satisfaction. She had come to *him*. When it mattered, she had let go in front of *him*. That moment had changed things, though Eric refused to admit it. She wasn't just some other Dauntless girl who followed orders. She was something else—someone who mattered more than he had expected.

It was a twisted sense of ownership, the way he started to feel about her after that. She wasn't his in any official way, but there was something in the way she looked at him, the way her eyes followed him around the room when she thought he wasn't paying attention. He *knew* she watched him. He caught her more than once, her gaze lingering on him, her lips pressed into a tight line when he smirked at her.

That was when it really started to click. Y/N wasn't just following orders or playing along. She cared. And that meant Eric had her.

He would never say it aloud, but the thought of Y/N caring about him—*really* caring—made something twist in his chest. Not love. He didn't do love. Love was a weakness, something that clouded your judgment and made you soft. But possession? Control? That was something he understood.

She was his, even if she didn't know it yet.

Eric started to notice how much she tried to resist him. How she pushed back when he got too close, but her body would always betray her. The quickening of her breath, the way she leaned into his touch when he put his hands on her waist. She could pretend all she wanted that she wasn't affected, but Eric knew better.

He loved watching her try to maintain that icy composure. Loved pushing her just enough to see the cracks form. It was a game, one that he knew he would win eventually. She could fight it all she wanted, but she wasn't going anywhere.

The night he got drunk and ended up in her room had been a turning point. It wasn't like him to lose control, but seeing her there, the way she looked at him with both frustration and something else—something softer—made him want to stay. He had let his guard down that night, let himself be honest for once. He couldn't remember all the things he said, but he remembered the warmth of her beside him, the way she had stayed. That had been enough.

It had been in the small moments after that when he realized just how far this was going. Like when she hugged him from behind. He had frozen, unsure how to react, because no one ever touched him like that—*wanted* to touch him like that. She had thrown him off, and for the first time in a long time, he had been unsure of what to do.

But that was the thing about Y/N. She had a way of making him feel things he didn't want to feel. He hated it, but he craved it at the same time. The way her eyes flicked to him during training, the way her lips tightened when she caught him smirking at her, the way she tried to pretend she wasn't affected by him—it all drove him insane. She thought she could hide it, but Eric saw right through her.

And he liked it.

She was his in all the ways that mattered, even if she didn't admit it. Even if *he* didn't admit it.

Eric's fingers traced the edge of a weapon blueprint she had been working on. She was talented, no doubt about that. But what he loved most was the way she challenged him, made him think in ways no one else did. She wasn't afraid of him—well, maybe a little—but that didn't stop her from pushing back.

He smirked as he watched her from across the room, her eyes quickly darting away when she realized he had caught her staring. He loved that. The way she tried to pretend she wasn't interested, that she wasn't watching his every move. He knew her better than she thought.

Y/N wasn't someone who could be controlled easily, and that's what made her different. That's what made her worth it.

Eric didn't fall in love. But he sure as hell wasn't letting her go.