Eric Coulter Imagines

What If: "I Don't Do Fan Service"

The rest of Dauntless wasn't blind to the growing connection between Y/N and Eric. The rumors hadn't slowed down; they'd only grown more intense. The instructors, especially those who were already envious of Y/N's skills and her closeness with Eric, started making snide remarks. And among them was Cass, an instructor with a reputation for ambition—and an even bigger reputation for resentment.

Cass had been with Dauntless for years, known for her sharp tongue and ruthless methods. She was tall, muscular, with dark tattoos snaking up her arms and piercings that gave her an intimidating, classic Dauntless look. She carried herself with the toughness and confidence expected of a seasoned instructor, someone who had earned every inch of respect through blood and sweat.

But underneath the hardened exterior, Cass felt something she'd never admit to anyone—insecurity. Y/N wasn't like her, and that made her burn. Y/N was slender, blonde, and didn't fit the mold of a typical Dauntless woman. She didn't dye her hair or have tattoos, and she wore that damn flowy black dress that made her stand out in a sea of combat gear and leather jackets. Y/N was different, feminine in a way that seemed almost alien to Dauntless, yet somehow, it worked for her.

And that's what Cass couldn't stand. Y/N was everything she wasn't—delicate yet strong, quiet yet commanding. And Eric—Eric—seemed to notice her. He hovered around Y/N like she was the only one who mattered, while Cass, who had fought and bled beside him during initiation, was left in the shadows.

One afternoon, as Y/N sat at a table, casually eating lunch, Cass decided she'd had enough. If anyone should be close to Eric, it should've been her. Not Y/N, who hadn't been around nearly as long, who was younger and, in Cass's mind, hadn't earned the position the way she had.

"Must be nice," Cass said as she approached, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Having Eric wrapped around your finger. He barely gives the rest of us the time of day. How do you manage that?"

Y/N didn't look at Cass at first, taking a slow, deliberate bite of her food. She glanced at Eric, who was nearby, lounging against a wall, arms crossed and looking as unbothered as ever. She knew he was listening.

Without missing a beat, Y/N called out to him, loud enough for Cass—and everyone else nearby—to hear.

"Hey, Eric! I'm getting complaints that you've been neglecting your fans. Might want to spread that charm around a bit."

Eric raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing as he processed Y/N's words. The idea of having "fans" amused him, but it also repulsed him. He didn't do admiration, and charm was far from his forte. His eyes flicked to Cass for a brief moment before landing back on Y/N, clearly entertained.

"Fans?" he echoed, his tone flat but darkly amused. "I don't do fan service."

Cass's face twisted in frustration, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She had always prided herself on knowing how to manipulate situations, but Y/N's casual mockery and Eric's indifference left her off-balance.

Eric pushed off the wall, his smirk turning into something sharper as he turned his full attention to Cass. "If you're feeling left out, maybe you should try being less pathetic," he added, his voice cutting like a knife.

Cass's jaw clenched. She had been humiliated in front of the trainees and other instructors, and Eric didn't even care. The same Eric who had once shared her ambition for power now seemed completely uninterested in her. The rumors were true—he had eyes for someone else, and that someone was Y/N.

Seething, Cass muttered something under her breath and stalked off, leaving Y/N to grin to herself. She could feel the eyes of others on her, watching the interaction with curiosity, but she didn't care. Let them talk. Let them think whatever they wanted.

Eric, still leaning casually against the wall, caught her eye, his smirk widening as he stepped closer. "You're getting too good at this," he said, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Y/N shrugged, her tone light but laced with sarcasm. "What can I say? I learn from the best."

From across the training room, a few of the trainees couldn't help but watch. They had heard the rumors about Y/N and Eric, but watching them interact now, it all seemed to make sense. The way Y/N smiled up at him, raising a brow with just enough sass to match his cold demeanor—it was like watching a perfect counterbalance. Eric, usually so hard and intimidating, seemed different around her. His gaze, normally icy and distant, softened just slightly, amused by every word she said. It was subtle, but the change was there.

One trainee whispered to another, "They look... good together. Like, they just fit."

Another nodded, still watching as Y/N and Eric continued their banter, seemingly in their own world. "Yeah. I never thought I'd see Eric smile, but around her? He seems... different. Not as terrifying."

They watched as Eric leaned in closer to Y/N, his smirk never fading. He didn't need to say much; the way he looked at her said everything. He was thoroughly entertained, clearly enjoying every second of her sarcasm.

The trainees exchanged knowing looks, whispering among themselves. But then, their curiosity piqued even further when Y/N kept talking.

"So, in today's class," Y/N said, turning her attention back to Eric, "I think Taylor and Briggs have a thing going on. You should've seen them during sparring—they were practically flirting with each other."

Eric's brow raised slightly as he listened. "Flirting?"

Y/N nodded, clearly enjoying herself. "Yeah, so I paired them up. I figured I might as well make it interesting."

Eric's gaze flicked to her, intrigued. "That's devious," he remarked, though there was a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. He didn't mind this side of her. In fact, he was enjoying it.

Y/N chuckled softly, clearly unbothered. "Hey, someone's gotta keep it fun around here."

Eric's hand found its way to her waist, a small but possessive gesture, as he stood just behind her. His eyes scanned the room, giving a sharp glance to anyone watching them, as if to remind them who was in charge. The trainees quickly averted their gazes, feeling the silent warning, but they couldn't help but notice how comfortable Y/N and Eric were with each other. It wasn't the stiff, professional distance they had expected—it was something more natural, almost... intimate.

As Y/N continued to talk about the day's events, Eric just quietly listened, amused but attentive. He didn't interrupt, just let her chatter on, clearly not minding how much she was opening up. And every so often, he'd lean in closer, his hand still resting on her waist, a small smirk playing on his lips.

The trainees watched from a distance, their whispers growing louder as they realized just how close the two of them really were.