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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

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Dauntless Matchmaker Part 2

Danny knew that his strange new boss was rich. He figured that much out by the overly priced suit and the wad of cash, but when he followed him into an Uber, he never thought he would wind up at the Waynes.

Everyone knew who the Waynes were. Danny personally thought it was no exaggeration when people called Bruce Wayne the Prince of Gotham.

He thought it fit the lovable man far more than the title of White Knight. It wasn't that Bruce didn't do the most out of all the ultra-rich to help the city, but rather, it mirrored the Dark Knight too much.

Danny thinks Bruce Wayne and Batman were too different to be compared like that. At least Mr. Wayne is real.

"Welcome home, Master Damian." The butler said as soon as the two walked through the door. His intrigued eyes slowly glanced at Danny, causing the teenager to stand straighter. "And who might our guest be?"

"I believed he was here for Drake." The young boy- apparently named Damian, fibs. Danny is a little impressed that he can sound so uncaring about what is happening despite being the whole reason he is here.

Danny knows that his job is to fool the butler and act like he isn't very aware of Damian. He offers the man his best smile. "Yeah, I came to see Tom. "

The older gentleman raises a brow while Damian shoots him a look of utter venom. Danny fights the urge to cower underneath the boy's displeasure. That is one nasty scowl the boy had.

"I am afraid Master Tim, is currently unavailable in his room"

Aw, crude, he said the wrong name. "Um, I know he said he needed a few minutes to get ready, but I was allowed to go up to his room. I'm sorry, sir I'm a little nervous."

"I see," The other says carefully before sharing a look with Damian. There is a moment where the two just stare at each other, and after a few small hand signs- sign language, maybe?- the butler clears his throat.

"That's quite alright, young man. You may go to Master Tim's room. It's up the main stairway on the third level, fifth door on the right."

Danny practically ran to the stairs, throwing a quick "Thank you, sir!" as he scurried away from the Butler and his boss. The boy still looked greatly displeased with his performance.

He prays he gets better at it once he speaks with Tom-er Tim and gets their story straight. Curious, He glances around, taking in the tasteful night pictures of Gotham City and the scattered few statues.

His breath catches when he sees a large frame photo of a man lying on an old couch looking into the far distance, his smile curving with mischievous glee and the sunlight reflecting the blue of his eyes.

There is a background of an old library, but the sun streaming through the window drapes him with a glow that makes the other man seem otherworldly.

It feels like it should be a painting, but it is so clearly a photograph that Danny has half a mind to wonder if someone who looked like that could possibly be real.

"Wow." He breathes, stepping closer to the frame.

"Wow, yourself." A gruff voice suddenly says, making Danny jump. Whirling around, he finds a boy about his age leaning on the doorframe.

It takes Danny a moment to realize that he is the subject of the art he was just admiring. But while the teenager in the photo seemed like a visiting angel, draped gracefully put together the teenager before him is, in a slight word, a mess.

He was wearing an oversized, fluffy, red open bathrobe. He seemed to only bother to slip on some baggy sweatpants and one sock. His hair didn't seem to have been combed in days, and there were dreadful bags underneath his eyes.

Despite that, Danny felt his heart flutter slightly when he made eye contact with the other.

"Who are you?" The stranger asks, voice a soft mutter.

"Um...I'm looking for Tim?"

"You found him." There is a half smile, but it falls quickly as the boy's demeanor seems to grow sad. Welp, his boss did say he was recently heartbroken.

"Oh great! I was told by Damian to do this when I found you." He places his hand on the wall, knocking six times, pausing for a few seconds, then knocking four.

Tim's face flashes through emotions faster than Danny can understand before the other teens' eyes water. That's all the warning he gets just as Tim bursts into tears.

He has no idea what's happening, but Danny's protective core has him rushing forward to bring the sobbing boy into his arms. He fumbles for a few seconds, unsure if it's welcome, until Tim melts into him, sobbing softly into his chest.

"It's okay. Shh. Shhhh. It's alright, everything will be alright. Why don't we head to your room?"

"Okay," The other whimpers. Danny helps him to his room, trying his best to offer as much support as possible. He is just starting to wonder if he should offer to get him some water or something when Tim kicks the door close, and the tears are all gone.

"Alright, we managed to fool Alfred. He was watching from the stairway," Tim whispers, leaning in close to Danny's face. He gave the startled half-ghost a sneer. "Now, who are you, and why did Damian send you to be my fake boyfriend?"

"Wait, you guys have a code for fake dating? That's what that was?"

"That's not important. I want to know what your objective is."

Danny tells him everything that Damian has told him since finding him. It's only been a few hours since he was fired and since he was taken by Damian.

Tim took it all in without much emotion.

"So you're here as my pity date to get Alfred to leave me alone? And was the Demon Brat the one to hire you? A likely story."

"No, I swear everything I've said is true."

"Oh, and I bet Batman is going to come out of the closet, too," The other said, rolling his eyes.

Danny frowns. "Batman isn't real."

At once, Tim's entire body seemed to have frozen. He blinks slowly, almost as if he is delayed in the reaction. "What did you just say?"

"Batman isn't real," Danny repeats slower, suddenly afraid for Tim's mental health. Next thing he knows, Tim will say the tooth fairy is real.

"Yes, he is."

"No, that's what the government wants you to think so they can hunt him down."

Tim blicks even slower before a blush starts to climb along his cheekbones. He reaches up to play with the hair at the back of his neck. "If that's true, then what is Batman really?"

"A ghost," Danny says confidently and Tim's face grows even redder. It's....endearing.

"You're weird," Tim says, looking away. His gaze lands on a hanging mirror, seemingly taken aback by his reflection. "Oh, I haven't showered in a few days, have I? Do you mind?"

Danny shakes his head, smiling. "No, go ahead. "

Noehter notices the small boy who moves away from Tim's door. And if that boy happened to be pumping his fist into the air in celebration well, that's no one business but Damian's

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Dauntless Matchmaker #Part 2 #Tim has a type #When you accept weird jobs you roll with the punches #Damian found a conspry guy #Danny doesn't belive in Batman

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lilithslittleworld · 3 months

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Intruder

A/N: this little story is for @slutforoldermen and @maisiestuff ! The inspiration comes from this* post here and I have brought the best I could to the function fr😮‍💨 tehehehe enjoy!!

Also don't mind the title I couldn't think of anything witty :'(

CW: sort of forbidden sex, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, begging, teasing, some humiliation.

Summary: (Four x reader) You decide to confront Four after days of cold and distant behavior towards you but you didn't expect to walk in on him...

Four was known for being tough and hard to get through to but that was no excuse for the way he had been treating you. Trainings had become even more rigorous and so had his demands. It wasn't your fault you had a sense of self preservation, something most of your other Dauntless initiates seemed to lack.

Your steps were short and fast, as you approached the block of apartments where Four lived. Your breaths were audible, partly due to your speed but also to the anger that coursed through your veins. He had no business calling you out and humiliating you in front of everyone simply because you had turned down the offer of standing before a target as the instructors threw knives around you. You wanted to tell him off to his face and now was your chance.

You knocked on the door confidently, crossing your arms as you awaited a response. You got none.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, knocking again even harder. And yet, the seconds ticked by and the door stayed closed. Your hand flew to the doorknob, even though you knew it would be locked but it didn't hurt to try.

To your surprise, the door opened with a slight creak, leading to Four's spacious studio. Your eyes quickly scanned the room for signs of him but were disappointed to find the lights off and his bed empty. You had almost given up hope as you turned to leave when you heard a noise. The sound of water running in the distance made you creep towards it.

Ah, so he's washing his hands, you thought to yourself as you pushed open the bathroom door. It all happened so quickly. As the door opened, your eyes fell on his naked, wet body, standing below the shower. And he'd heard you.

"What the f-" he screamed, interrupted by you slamming the door shut behind you. Now you really were breathing heavily and it was solely due to the adrenaline this time. You'd seen him fully. His toned back, arms, chest, and even his dick, water dripping off of him. He was so big and beautiful everywhere. Your cheeks flushed at the image that was flashing in your mind repeatedly as you covered your eyes in horror. He was your instructor! How were you ever going to face him again? He was going to make your life impossible now.

The sound of the bathroom door opening made your heart drop but you didn't turn around.

"You have five seconds to tell me why the hell you're here," Four said, his voice careful and cold as ice. You shivered in response, turning slowly as you thought of a good excuse. He stood before you, white towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes shooting daggers at you. You couldn't help but stare at the little droplets of water that remained on his chest, his abs, dripping down slowly past his navel.

"I came to see you," you choked out, "To tell you off, actually."

"What makes you think you can come see me?" he said carefully, his voice so soft it was dangerous. He took a step towards you, "What makes you think you can come into my house?"

"It was a mistake, honestly!" you protested, stumbling backwards, your hands fumbling to grab onto something, anything. You came in contact with the wall, gripping it tightly to keep you steady and upright in case your legs gave out. This had turned into a terrible idea.

"I don't believe that," he said, his voice taking on an even more dangerous tone. Dangerous because it made you press your legs together tightly and hold back a whimper that dared to emerge from your mouth. You pressed your lips together tightly before speaking.

"I-I," you stuttered, your brain buzzing with filthy thoughts of the man standing in front of you.

He took another step towards you. "So sure on telling me off and now you can't even get a sentence out."

Your cheeks burned as he taunted you, now clearly unbothered by your presence in his house. He was excited even, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you.

He took yet another step towards, now just inches away from you. He was so close you could smell the warm musk that was coming from his skin. You silently fought back the urge to reach out and run your fingers along his glistening , muscular body.

"Why don't you tell me why you're really here?" He placed his free hand on his chest, the other one still tightly wrapped around the towel that barely covered him. If only it would just slip down a little.

You ducked your head down in embarrassment, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the smile that was pulling at the corners of your lips. "I already told you, I came to see you," you said softly, staring intently at the floor. That's when a piece of fabric fell. His towel.

"Take a good look then," he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. He wanted you to see him as you'd seen him just moments ago. If you listened and brought your eyes up to him, there'd be no turning back. It was also a breach of conduct but again, you didn't care.

"Four," you murmured, as you brought your gaze back up to him tentatively, meeting his dark brown eyes instantly. Your heart raced as you pushed past the embarrassment of avoiding his naked body. Your eyes ran down his body, his wide shoulders and brawny arms. You took note of his veins everywhere, they were so noticeable and prominent. Taking your time now, your eyes scanned his strong chest, toned abdomen, and followed his happy trail further down, gulping as you saw him again.

And suddenly, his lips were on yours. His lips moved against your passionately, his tongue swirling erotically against yours, your breaths mixing in your colliding mouths. Your hands found him instantly, trailing down his chest lightly as he groaned into your mouth. You wanted him so badly, to taste him, to feel him, to hear him groan again. But his hands stopped you, holding them tightly in place even when you tried to free yourself.

"Stop," he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He took a few steps back from you for good measure before pointing to your shirt. "Take it off."

You were used to cooperating with Four's orders but this one threw you off, a slight edge of self consciousness beginning to emerge.

"Take it off or you don't touch me," was all he said, making you whine in return. You complied quickly, slipping the top over your head, leaving you completely exposed. You could feel Four's eyes burning into your chest as you stood before him, your eyes never leaving his.

"And that," he said, gesturing to your pants, which came off just seconds after his command. You took a confident stride back to him, no longer bothered by the fact that you too were almost completely naked. Up on your tiptoes, your hands found his hair and your lips his own. You kissed him feverishly, breathlessly, feeling his hands snaking down your back, stopping to grab a handful of your butt, pulling you even closer to his body. You could feel him hardening against your stomach as you pressed yourself onto him eagerly, your fingers tangled and pulling at his hair.

Four took you in his arms, grabbing your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist, whimpering softly when his cock grazed your clit as he walked you over to his bed.

"I haven't even really touched you yet and you're already making pretty, little noises," he murmured as he sat down on the edge of the bed, with you still straddling him. Now, with his cock fully between your legs, only separated by the thin fabric of your underwear, there was no stopping you. Your hips moved against him almost instantly, seeking some sort of stimulation.

"Fuck," you sighed, as you rubbed your aching clit against him. His hands found your waist and guided your movements vigorously.

"Use me," he groaned, his eyes on your face, watching the pleasure on your face grow, "Just like that." You could feel the wetness of your panties start to spread, dripping down onto his throbbing cock. Your moans grew louder, as you began to reach your orgasm, griding against him at an even faster pace. His big, rough hands reached down to squeeze your boobs. Four's heavy breathing below you only fueled your desire, you were almost drunk on it. You knew you were only minutes away from climaxing, so when Four's hands held your waist still in place, it felt almost violent.

Your eyebrows furrowed pleadingly as you opened your eyes to find him smirking, his eyes wild with excitement.

"Get on your knees," he breathed, as you lowered yourself below him. You watched him mesmerized, as he stroked himself, eyes closed and head tilted back in pleasure, his moans were soft and breathless. You squirmed impatiently as the need to touch yourself grew, he was driving you crazy and he knew. You whined breathlessly, hoping he'd turn his attention back to you. You wanted so to badly to feel him in your mouth.

"Open for me," he said softly, bringing his hardened length to your eager mouth. You took him into your mouth greedily, swirling your tongue around his tip ardently, tasting his slightly salty precum. Four's hands stayed near you, one holding your hair back and the other softly stroking your cheek. With every movement you made, every lick and stroke, you felt him grow harder in your mouth. The situation itself was enough to give you a thrill of pleasure too, moaning around him occasionally.

"Fuck," Four grunted, leaning his head back in pleasure from the vibrations of your throaty moan. "Moan on my cock again," he almost begged, almost entirely lost in ecstasy. You moaned back in response as the man above you started to come undone, bucking his hips against your face. He felt so much bigger in your mouth when his speed picked up, no longer expecting you to bob up and down his length.

Four pulled himself out from in between your lips, his cock sliding out perfectly from the back of your throat, covered in your glistening spit.

"I want you inside of me," you begged, now with an empty mouth but begging to be filled someplace else. Four pushed you back onto the bed in response, prying your legs open as you bit your lip. Instead of sliding himself into you, he bent down, now eye-level with your pussy. He trailed feathery kisses along your inner thighs, making a point of avoiding where you really wanted him. But no amount of whining or whimpering would make him speed up.

After torturous seconds, Four's fingers slid up and down your wetness. His slick fingers rubbed soft, slow circles against your clit as your eyes rolled back. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly where to touch you and how. His fingers gradually sped up, the circles he was tracing becoming more precise before bringing his mouth down to you. Four's tongue took over for where his fingers had been, drawing lazier circles than before. You desperately wanted him to speed up, to fit one or two of his big fingers into you.

As if he'd read your mind, he brought a finger slowly to your opening, teasing his way in. His finger stretched you deliciously, sliding in and out with ease, curled slightly in hope of hitting your G-spot. Your moans became pornographic now, pulling on his hair as he hit the right spots, both inside and outside of you.

"Four," you gasped, interrupted by another trembling moan, "more," was the only word you could get out.

Four brought his mouth away from your drenched pussy, his finger still fucking you as he spoke. "You want my cock, don't you?" he taunted, watching you buck your hips against his hands, your body begging for more. You nodded quickly.

"Tell me," he breathed, "Tell me how badly you want it inside of you."

"I want it so bad," you whined, "Need you inside of me."

Instantly, Four stood up and found a condom, sliding it rapidly down his throbbing member. In one swift movement, you found yourself straddling him again, in charge once again. You lowered yourself onto him slowly, allowing him to stretch you out even further. Burying his dick in your pussy, he groaned and your own moans joined him. Steadily, you began to ride him, taking notice of how he gripped your boobs to keep you in place, his rough fingers brushing against your hardened nipples.

"That's it," he panted, sweat beading on his forehead, "Ride me. Ride my cock." He felt so good inside of you. You moaned his name as his mouth came onto your boobs, sucking on them as they bounced. His stubble left the skin around your boobs tingly as he turned towards the other one. His hands found your hips once again, speeding them up against his own moving hips.

The friction of your bodies, the sounds coming from him, and the sight of him was too much. You knew you wouldn't last much longer as he continued to hit your g-spot, digging your nails into his strong arms as the waves of pleasure hit harder.

"Yes," you whimpered, "Feels so good."

"Yeah?" he pressed on, wanting to hear more of your desperation.

"Mmm," you moaned back, your legs beginning to shake. You were just seconds away from the release you so deeply craved.

"Beg for it," he grunted, feeling his own orgasm slowly creeping up. But he'd hold out for you.

"Please," you begged frantically, unsure how much longer you could hold back. "Let me cum."

"You sound so pretty while you beg," he answered between breaths, "Cum for me then, cum all over my cock." And that was it, all you needed to hear.

You let the pleasure wash over you completely, taking over your body and your senses as you came. You threw your head back, moaning his name as you felt yourself clenching around him. Four wasn't far behind you, his hands squeezing your hips even tighter as he buried his dick deep into you one last time as he came. Both of your hips came to a slowing stop as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Fuck," you laughed breathlessly, in shock of what had just unfolded before you. You had actually had sex with your trainer. Four seemed as bewildered as you did but he didn't say anything. Clearly he wasn't used to hooking up with initiates, thankfully.

You laid there together silently for a couple of minutes. Four stroked your hair softly as your fingers traced imaginary lines along his arms. You were both sweaty but neither of you seemed to care. And then he spoke.

"So," he said, his voice a deep rumble, "Is you intruding my house going to become a regular thing?"

"Only if you want it to be," you smiled up at him, knowing very well that's what he wanted to hear.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully before a smirk appeared on his mouth, "Want to shower?"

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Y/N's finally going to try out his shower and not just catch him in it! tehehehe I think it's kind of a cute ending :)

#divergent #divergent series #divergent smut #divergent fanfiction #four x reader #four #four smut #four x reader smut #tobias eaton x reader #tobias eaton #tobias eaton smut #dauntless

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prince-les · 1 year

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Stay

#WAHO #prince does art #fnaf dca #dca #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #daycare attendant #dauntless daybreak #fnaf #fnaf eclipse #fnaf x reader

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stoportotouch · 3 months

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i love dundy. he is clearly having a character arc but he is having that character arc Over There and away from the rest of the main characters. and so every time he shows up it's like. "WHAT are you doing."

#ollie considers #the terror #dundy #he's going in the Dick Dauntless Soup

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insanityclause · 7 days

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#tom hiddleston #the dragon school #Richard dauntless #ruddigore

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heliads · 8 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

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

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #dauntless #dauntless imagines #dauntless x reader #dauntless oneshot #divergent eric #divergent eric imagines #divergent eric x reader #divergent eric oneshot

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chloe-skywalker · 1 year

Text

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

******************************************************************

“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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usafphantom2 · 4 months

Text

In August of 1943, pilots clamber out of the cockpits of their Douglas Dauntless aircraft aboard the USS Lexington, following a raid on Tarawa. ✈️

@jasonrburt via X

#sbd dauntless #ww2 #aircraft #us navy

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ozzgin · 2 months

Note

Oz are you actually a wizard?

You can tell where my brainrot resides, because my immediate response was to let out a throaty gag followed by “I’m the wizard of c*cks all across the globe”.

I’m in my CupcakKe era.

#personal #doodle #cupcakke #dauntless manifesto

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smfolklore · 5 months

Text

Ignorance

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Author's Note : Okay she's here! This is 2.5K, I hope you enjoy it! Please leave me your thoughts, if you'd be so kind. I'm so happy that you all liked the first story I wrote. It motivated me to write this!

Synopsis : Y/N goes to Uriah's dormitory and gets incredibly tipsy (she's obliterated). Her instructor discovers this and is snarky with her because he's jealous.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Present Time

My head is fucking pounding. I can hear only the persistent throbbing echoing throughout my brain. But it's what I deserve.

Uriah invited me to a “small” gathering happening among him and his two fellow Dauntless-Born companions. What I didn’t expect was the mass amount of alcohol that we were going to consume that night.

But I didn’t exactly say no.

I will never deny an opportunity to have fun. When I lived with the Abnegation, there was zero tolerance for fun. It’s the one regulation I will never miss. There were aspects that I loved, like the simplicity and generosity of the people, but the negative aspect of this faction is that they were far too rigid.

In that, Dauntless is the complete opposite. And it’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with how at ease life is here. There are zero regulations (which is.. concerning), but to me that only indicates freedom.

Which is why last night, I drank. I consumed every shot that was handed to me, which if I remember correctly was eight. I’d never drank an ounce of alcohol before yesterday, which should have steered me into complacency but it didn’t.

–––

Uriah’s Dormitory - The Day Before

My face is slightly red as I feel the warmth of the liquor pulsing through me, and I’m trying desperately to contain the giggle slipping by.

We’re in Uriah’s dormitory. There’s six of us: Myself, Uriah, Lynn, Christina, Marlene, and Will. Christina and Will are desperately attempting to sing a chosen song, a microphone in each hand and while everyone is laughing and enjoying the euphoric sensation rolling through them, I feel the entire weight of my figure get heavy.

Uriah laughs at my expression, “Are you okay!”

And before I can even respond, I’m shaking my head with an erupting laugh, “No! No! I can’t stop laughing”.

I feel Uriah plop beside me, and I let my back hit the mattress as I see him lay across it. We’re a chaotic mess of laughing and bloodshot eyes. I blink at him slowly and see the lazy grin on his face.

“I am so fucking drunk right now”.

His grin stretches, “I feel complete. I’ve managed to intoxicate a girl from Abnegation. I never thought I would see the day”.

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief and let out a laugh as I say, “This is the first and the last time. I swear it”.

I don’t, actually.

I’m having far too much fun. Christina and Will are doing Karaoke, Lynn and Marlene are holding onto each-other for balance as they laugh so hard that they’re wheezing, and Uriah and I are laying across his mattress trying to gather our bearing’s.

I can do this for the rest of my life. This faction is so liberating in spite of its faults.

Before I’m able to register it, Uriah is gripping onto my two wrists and using them as leverage to pull me upright. I’m still a pile of limbs, my body incoherent almost, but I grin as I see him pulling me to my feet.

Once I’m standing I hear a quick, “Our turn!” and my eyes widen dramatically. I can’t sing.

“No, Uriah! I can’t!”

But he’s smiling and I relent as he directs us to the stand that’s hosting the microphones. I pick one up, and as soon as I recognize the song that’s playing I turn to Uriah excitedly and exclaim, “How do you know this song!”

–––

Present Time

When I manage to open my eyes, I’m groggy. Beside me is Uriah, and beside him is Lynn as well as Marlene. We all fell asleep at his dormitory. I use the knuckle of my finger to get completely free of the drowsiness that is looming over me.

I groan as I force myself to sit up. I push myself toward the opposite side of the mattress, softly tying my laces and straightening my clothing. I laugh a little when I see Christina and Will on the couch beside the microphone post. Regardless of how close they’ve managed to become, they swear that they aren’t romantic. Yeah right.

I’ve become accustomed to waking up at 4 in the morning given my training session with Four. In spite of the fact that the first stage is complete, he’s prolonged our training. I didn’t ask him, he simply did. I’d expected him to stop the session, but he never opened the topic, and I certainly wasn’t going to propose it.

I enjoyed our time together.

In the last six week’s, Four and I have built upon our relationship. Our dynamic is.. fairly complicated. There are moments where I feel the tension dissipate and it often indicates the beginning of a friendship, but then he can quickly revert to the distant instructor I see so often.

I can admit that it hurts. I don’t know where I stand when I’m with him and it’s by far the most confusing relationship I’ve ever had. He’s gentle and patient one moment, and the next he’s curt and stern.

This pattern of inconsistency is only intensifying my doubt. I have no clue as to whether or not he thinks I’m attractive. Or if he even likes me. And it’s only served to irritate me. When I see him, I remain indifferent.

It’s for the absolute best is what I tell myself. He’s clearly not interested in me. He had six entire week’s to give me even an inkling that he likes me, and he hasn’t. I can’t help the disappointment that I feel, I’d thought given the tension within our first session that there was more, but I can’t force him to find me appealing, can I?

I make my way into Uriah’s restroom, searching through the cabinet until I find what I was in need of. A new toothbrush. There’s no way I’m going to train with my insanely hot instructor without brushing my teeth. It’s like asking him to stop training me, when in reality I want to improve. I want to succeed here.

I wash my face, and even manage to brush my hair with a new comb I found stashed beside his toothbrush. I slip out of his dormitory as quietly as I can manage, trying to let them rest. I can’t have them discovering where I go so early in the morning. It wasn’t explicitly said that my training with Four is going against a protocol, but I don’t want to involve him if it is. So I maintain this secret for myself.

It’s 4:47 when I stroll into the training center, and I thank myself internally when I see that I’m alone. He isn’t here yet. I go toward the fountain, and sip on the fresh water pouring through as I wait for him to arrive.

I walk onto the platform, and begin to stretch softly, knowing that I’ll love the open range of motion it’ll give me when I’m fighting against Four. He doesn’t train me easily, not like he started throughout our first session. I’ve landed on my spine so many times, albeit softly. He isn’t unnecessarily rough, but he is rough enough to get his lesson through.

I have my arm in front of me as I do a stretch when I hear the unmistakable latch of the front door. I peer over my shoulder and see the set of his face; cold.

He isn’t happy.

I carefully watch as he steps onto the platform and before I can register it I’m blurting out, “Nice night?”, with the intention of lightening the atmosphere.

His expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t even meet my eye when he curtly says, “For some”.

This has my eyes widening slightly, as I’m a bit stunned. His body language is telling me that, unfortunately, he was not as fortunate. He’s tense, and his fists are clenched so tightly that the veins on his forearms are prominent. I put my arm down from my stretch and tilt my head, as I mutter to myself, “Okay, then”.

My attention snaps to him when I hear him say in an almost dull tone, “You look exhausted”. I frown wondering why he would point that out, but regardless I respond reluctantly, “We went to Uriah’s dormitory last night”.

All I get in response is an indifferent, “We?”. He’s not even looking at me, which confuses me. He’s untying his laces in order to get into position. Why is he being so adamant on evading me?

I shift from one foot to the other, ease in my voice, “Yep. Uriah, Will, Christina, Marlene, and Lynn. We were.. just learning how to play a card game”. It’s silly to not be honest about this but I don’t know if telling your initiation instructor that you got obliterated the night before is appropriate.

He meets my eye. Finally, but he’s looking at me without amusement as he fires in response, “Guzzling alcohol must be synonymous with learning a card game”.

I’m astounded by how affected he is at learning that his initiates are drinking. It’s entirely normal, but it’s not like I’m going to advertise it too. I furrow my eyebrow at the bite in his tone and feel irritation bubbling within me.

“How do you know what we were doing?”, I respond indignantly.

I watch as his shoulders tense, and it would have been entirely unrecognizable if not for the fact that I’m constantly observing him. I can’t help it, I want to understand him. How he thinks, what he’s feeling, and it goes beyond attraction. There’s a magnetic pull that I feel when I’m with him.

He’s seamless in his response, “It isn’t exactly difficult to figure out. You're pale and dehydrated”.

I tilt my head and slightly narrow my vision, “There’s no way for you to know that I’m dehydrated, Four”. I’ve caught him; he’s a liar. I stare at him intently as I analyze his carefully crafted expression. I think about last night, attempting to recall a memory that could help me decipher how he’s in the loop of what I did in Uriah’s dormitory.

And I do.

It was Zeke. He came to Uriah’s dormitory to tell him about a family dinner.. and in return he helped us all consume as much water as possible. And he forced us all to swallow an Acetaminophen Tablet to prevent the headache that all of us would surely have the following morning.

He must’ve told Four when he left. I don’t know how, or when, but it’s the only possibility that I can think of. Zeke and Four have a friendship and because of that Four is going to hear about Uriah’s antics. Zeke likely mentioned to Four that his entire group of initiates is going to be fucking hungover for the session today.

He isn’t entirely wrong.

Four doesn’t react, simply getting into position and motioning for me to replicate it. But I don’t. I glance at the clock and read the time as 4:54, muttering, “It’s not 5 o'clock yet. We have time”.

–––

Four’s Point of View

I narrow my gaze at her and try to prevent my body language from giving away just how much irritation is coursing through me.

I’ve felt this gnawing sense of discomfort fill me since the moment Zeke entered my apartment last night, divulging how Uriah and three of my initiates are getting “hammered” in his dormitory.

It isn’t the alcohol that has me tensing my shoulders, or narrowing my gaze at her, it's the disturbing thought that she was with him. I’ve noticed how close they’ve become.. they eat together, I see them in the pit together, and apparently Zeke placed her to sleep beside Uriah last night as well. Granted there were two extra people on the mattress with them.

In spite of the fact that logically, I’m aware nothing could have occurred, there’s a persistent ache of discomfort in my chest that I can’t identify properly. This can’t be jealousy. I can’t like her.

And yet, when I flick my gaze to her, and locate the determination in her eyes to find out what I’m hiding, I find my throat going dry in appeal.

“I didn’t agree to having a conversation with you, I agreed to train you so that you can improve your fighting” I respond curtly.

There’s a flicker of hurt that catches on her expression and it immediately has me wanting to retract my response. But I don’t, because I can’t. If I tell her the truth, about what I know, I’ll have to explain why I’ve reacted the way that I have. And that will open a conversation that can’t be opened until she isn’t my initiate. Until I can tell her how I feel without putting her in a position where she might feel obligated to return my affection.

It isn’t fair to her. And if I’m going to pursue this.. It has to be done correctly.

So I persist, “Position yourself”.

But she doesn’t. She’s hesitating, and it frustrates me. She grits out in irritation, “Tell me how you know what we were doing”.

I’m almost stunned by the way she’s spoken to me. Y/N has always maintained that line of respect even through the telling of a joke, or when we’re in a session. But now she’s wary, and she’s considering the truth as a possibility; that I like her.

The thought that Y/N might discover my affection for her has reverted me to the default personality that I’ve adopted since the moment that I chose this faction; cold. I cannot let her figure it out before she’s designated an official member.

I pause, tilting my head in an almost sadistic way as I stalk toward her as intimidatingly as I can. My demeanor is insulting, and I’m aware that the next thing I say may ruin the small connection that we’ve developed. But what choice do I have?

“I advise that you learn how to address your superior. I only agreed to this to help you learn how to fight. If you aren’t going to comply, then get out”, his tone is menacingly calm, but there is an undercurrent of condescension. He’s speaking to her in a manner that would resemble a conversation he’s having with an imbecile.

And it’s enough to hurt her feelings. He sees the flicker of emotion on her face before she decidedly takes a step away from him.

Her expression is masked, a glimpse of nothing. “Fine”, she mutters, voice indifferent. Her expression is blank when she glances away from him. And it’s blank as she laces her shoes. And when I hear the latch of the steel entryway, I groan as I come to terms with the fact that I’ve only pushed her further into the arm’s of Uriah, and directly away from me. She’s going to hate me. I watched the hurt consume her, and then I watched her mask it with the ease only a person from Abnegation can adopt. I wonder if she’ll come back tomorrow.

#dauntless #divergent #four #tobias eaton #tobias eaton x reader #writing #instructortobias #amity #tobias eaton writing #candor #tobias eaton x y/n #writingfordivergent

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Text

DCXDP FIC IDEA: The Dauntless Matchmaker

Danny Fenton is short on cash. He has been short on cash almost all his adult life, but usually, he can pull through untill the last minute before breaking and asking his family for help.

It's a pain in a half trying to find a job that is flexible enough to accommodate his "Health" issues.

He needs time off to keep his agreement. See back when he was sixteen, he realized that the ghosts that had been bothering him were all trying to challenge him for his power.

At first he looked like easy prey- being new and all- but the more fights he won the more his reputation rose and that made the ghosts attack less frequently.

They just became harder since the big guns wanted a crack at him. Danny proposed that the fights be in neutral grounds- the ghost zone- since fights in Amity Park were ruining his haunt.

Haunt Rights were highly protected and respected in the Infinite Releams.

His adversaries agreed under the condition that Danny responded to the battles within two hours; otherwise, they would haunt him in the human world.

Ghost fighting in the Infinite Releams to keep the ghosts busy, and nowadays, only the strongest bothered him like a bi-weekly challenge from dead beings that don't understand scheduling.

It worked out.....until he couldn't explain why he was missing so often in the human world. With the help of some friendly ghosts, he was able to fake a diagnosis of some muscle disorder and has been living with the excuse that he would go MIA because of it. He missed a lot.

Often enough to have almost every job he's gotten to fire him.

This brings him to his current problem. Yes, Danny can argue that he has a disability but to do so would mean having someone look into it and realize it's not real.

So when Charlie from the Tea MadHouse tells him not to bother returning tomorrow after a four-day-long battle, he can only sigh and turn in his tea maker apron.

He might have to call his parents to ask for help on this month's rent. That's a bitter pill to swallow.

If only there was a job that he could do that had no problem with him taking multiple days off without notice.

"Pardon me. I need a moment of your time." a voice calls out. Danny twists around, turning his neck slightly downwards to meet the green-eyed stare of a young boy.

"I have a proposition for you. My elder brother requires a fake lover to fool our family butler into thinking that he has moved on from the heartbreak of his last disastrous relationship. Not that anyone could blame Dowd for ending things with Drake. In any case, seeing as I have witnessed your unemployment, I figured you would do well for the job."

Danny blinks "I'm sorry?"

The kid pulls out a wad of cash. Danny can practically hear the ca-ching sound surrounding the boy as he raises a brow.

He gapes as the youth slaps the cash into his hand without so much as a blink.

"Do we have an accord?" The boy asks while Danny slowly turns the money in his hand.

"Whatever you say, temporary in-law," He says after flipping through the bills only to realize it's a hundred-dollars. A quick count of how many he's been handed causes his eyes to almost pop out of thier socket.

It's more then enough for this month's rent-hell he has some left over for at least four months!

"Excellent, we are expected at dinner. If Drake acts surprised to see you merely tap the table six times, then four. He shall fall into line and build off our lie."

Danny scrambles after the kid, nodding to himself. "Six, then four. Got it. Ugh, does the dinner have a dress code?"

It sounds like it would since a young boy just gave out hundreds like it was nothing. Danny would feel bad showing up in an old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Maybe he has a formal shirt somewhere.

The boy's green eyes flickered to him, then his watch on his wrist. "An impressive observation. Pennyworth will not be impressed by a poorly dressed paramour. We have time to purchase a suit. Come along."

Danny has no idea how someone so small can walk so fast. He feels his breathing is coming in quick bursts, but the boy doesn't seem winded at all. He winces when the boy enters a well-known suit place that is very pricey. "Is this coming out of my pay?"

"No. This shall be covered by the company card," The strange child says, holding up a black card with a quick flick of his wrist. At the sight of it, two store attendants appear at their side, offering assistance. Danny has never seen such power.

"W-wait we have a company card?" He shutters, overwhelmed by the attendant pushing him into a changing room and a light blue suit in his arms.

"Yes. However, you have a limit on what can be spent with it. I shall review the details later regarding your medical, dental, and vision benefits."

"I GET DENTAL?!"

"Of course. America's ridiculous health programs will mistreat no employee of mine simply due to lack of funds. " The boy scoffed, sounding offended by the very idea.

Danny doesn't care how long he needs to pretend to be this boy's boyfriend, and he'll sign a contract right now.

_______________________________________

Damian waited for Fenton to finish trying on all the suits the personal sellers had pushed onto him. He personally thinks the light blue was the best but it doesn't hurt to try other options.

They need Fenton to look his best to woo Drake and get him to stop acting so pathetic.

Yes, Dowd had broken up with him for reasons Damian is unaware of, nor does he care enough to find them, but Drake has had plenty of people break up with him before and remain on good terms with him.

Just look at Brown.

Drake had also always bounced right back after the breakup, usually because he would get tied up in either work at Wayne Industries or Red Robin.

Yet, for some reason, unlike all the others, Dowd leaving has not only been messy it also threw Drake into a downwards spiral.

He has refused even to get dress- walking around in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers- eating ice cream and sobbing over photos of Dowd for hours on end. He taken a leave from Wayne Industries and mostly stayed on monitor duty as Red Robin.

At other times, he plays sad songs and watches romance movies with a dead look in his eyes. Usually there were crumbs of some unknown spicy chips all over his face too.

Really it was unseemly.

It's been four months of this, and Drake does not seem to be getting it together. Damian had researched online, and all of the articles indicate that he should have felt better by the third-month mark.

He would have left the fool well alone only Pennyworth is beginning to worry. And Damian refuses to let Pennyworth worry over something fixable.

His research showed that a "rebound" was highly recommended (if done correctly), in the healing process of a breakup. Drake refused to find one, so Damian assigned himself the task of finding one for him instead.

He considered Drake's past lovers' looks, interests, and personalities. Then creating a list of what was considered a good candidate he wandered around Gotham in search of someone who would be a perfect rebound.

His efforts led him to Tea MadHouse- a tea shop with a surprisingly good coffee menu- where Daniel Fenton worked. Over three weeks, Damian had watched him, categorizing the pros and cons that Drake would find within Fenton, and concluded that he would be perfect.

The fact Fenton has lost his job now only worked in his favor. He'll convince Drake that Fenton is a decoy for Pennyworth - since Drake was getting fed up with all the hovering- and he would never notice that the real target of this fake relationship would be Drake himself all along.

Fenton will woo him, sweep him off his feet, make him forget Dowd and ride off into the sunset with Drake none the wiser. It was full-proof.

Damian will make Drake rebound on Fenton, even if he has to throw the idiot at the other teen. He is getting awful tired of the concerned glances whenever Drake slumps his way into a room.

No other reason. He certainly didn't care about Drake that much nor did does he lay awake at night wondering how Drake is doing now that he does not have someone to hold him.

Drake doesn't sleep well alone.

"How do I look?" Fenton stepped out of the booth wearing the light blue suit. It made his eyes pop and framed his body well.

Yes, muscular. The body of a boxer. Drake will lose his mind over those biceps.

"Ravishing." He tells the nineteen-year-old. Damian barely bites back a smirk as Fenton flushed, painting a pretty picture. Drake enjoys talking his lovers up, and Fenton will do well to receive plenty of compliments. "Let us be off."

Drake won't know what hit him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #dead tired #The Dauntless Matchmaker #Damian Wayne really said if you want something done right do it your self #Danny went along cause Damian has that much of a commanding presence #hes also poor and needs the job #Tim is in the trenches from Bernard leaving him

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