Requested Imagine: Four lets you see his fears in the hopes you’ll understand him better and be more prepared when you go into the fear sim. When he sees your fears, he’s in them and he takes it the wrong way, thinking you’re afraid of him.
Four (Tobias Eaton) x Reader
Cursing, that’s about it
You come out of the fear simulator with a gasp. The
room was still spinning just enough to make you close your eyes and pretend you
were on solid ground. When you opened your eyes again, you were staring into
Four’s. His glare was intense, sending you into a panic on the inside; your
heart starts to race.
“Up.” He commanded and moved his hand swiftly through
the air, motioning for you. “Now, Initiate.”
You throw your legs over the side of the chair and
look at the ground. It stopped spinning long enough for you to set your feet
down and stand, your back popping and crackling in the process. “So?”
“So?” He mocks you, his nostrils flaring in the way
that you’ve only seen when he fought. “So, you’re done. That’s the test.”
“You saw.” You mumbled and cross your arms.
“I saw it all.
Out.” He shoved your shoulder toward the door. You turn and glared at him, but
you knew it was no good to argue. You walked out of the room, leaving your
fellow initiates to watch Four shooting daggers at your back.
— — — — —
Four walked around the training floor, hands behind
his back, a slightly different air about him. He never once looked at you, not
for a second while you trained. His voice had changed, too. It sounded crispier,
on edge. One of your fellow transfers kept informing you that he watched you
when your back was turned.
After training, Eric let you all know that training
for the next day was going to be cancelled, due to a few minor setbacks. You
were all for having an extra day off, but you knew you’d be right down here
tomorrow, smacking away at a dummy and throwing knives to improve yourself.
The room cleared out fast, leaving you alone—with Four.
He was packing away some of the guns Eric was showing you earlier, guns you
would be shooting in a few days. The more you knew before you shot the gun, the
“Why are you avoiding me?” You questioned, walking
over to Four’s side, making sure to keep a few paces back incase he decided to
take a swing. “Four, you’re supposed to be teaching me.”
Four stopped, his shoulders slacking. You felt him
thinking, watched the wheels in his head start turning and thinking of a
solution. He had none. Not if he had to think for more than a few seconds. “The
thing you fear most is me.” He grumbled and shoved another gun into the bag.
Luckily they were all empty.
Your heart skipped a beat and you shook your head. “You
took that all wrong, Four.”
“I show you my fears,” he looks over at you and his
eyebrows furrowed together, making him look more menacing. “and you repay me by
adding me to yours? What have I done, Y/N?”
You had to laugh, which was bad timing. You felt his
stare harden and wished you hadn’t.
“I wanted you to trust me, not be scared of me.
Although you probably should be. I don’t like it, it hurts.” He shook his head
and turned back to the guns, shoving the last one into the bag and clearing his
throat. “I’m done with trying to be nice. Obviously you don’t care, you’re just
Raising an eyebrow, you watch him closely. He zips the
bag and throws it over his shoulder, letting out a few raging breaths before he
turns his body toward you and sticks a hand in his pocket. For a second, you
expect to see him pull out a dagger—he doesn’t.
“My fear isn’t you,”
you say softly. He looks at you under his long lashes. “My fear is losing you.
My fear is you getting so caught up in this guard stuff that you don’t come
back to reality and realize there’s more to life.”
“There isn’t more to life.” Four hissed. “Don’t you
get it?” He paused and let his hand fall at his side. He watched you for a
second then said, “you’re Divergent.”
Something hung in your throat. Divergent was what the
Dauntless woman called you during your test, she said it was bad, that it was
something that could get you killed. You were better off never uttering that
word, and here Four was, saying it loud enough for others to hear.
“A true Dauntless wouldn’t think that way, Y/N. I
wondered what was happening in the simulator… Shit,” he ran a hand through his
hair and shook his head.
“How do you know about them?” You crossed your arms
over your chest before the realization hit. He knew because he was one. “Ohhh.”
Four placed a finger on his lips. “If they find out…
You nodded, understanding. Four’s Adam apple bobbed in
his throat and his gaze fell away from yours, taking interest in something just
over your shoulder. “Not me, huh?”
“Not you.” You shrugged.
Four closed the gap between your bodies and slips his
hand in yours, tangling your fingers together and looking down at you, his lips
forming a straight line, but his eyes twinkling in the corners. “That’s a
Requested Imagine: You’re dared by a fellow Dauntless to spent the night on top of the tallest building with Four and a tent.
Four (Tobias Eaton) x Reader
No warnings, maybe some cursing.
You walk over to the edge of the building and look
down, taking in the scenery. It’s so beautiful as the sunsets, going down so
the moon could rise. There were a few Erudite children below, but even they
quickly vanished with the sun.
Four set up the tent, pitching it and weighting it
down for the night. Blankets were sitting in a pile outside, waiting to be made
into a bed. You wonder how long before Four was out like a light. He always
struck you as the type to doze off anywhere.
“I can’t believe this is our damn dare.” You say,
walking over and tossing him the blankets inside, letting him set up the
pallet. “To sleep on the roof? Such idiots.”
“Yeah…” Four mumbles and fluffs up one of the pillows.
He sets them down and makes a bed, one facing north and the other facing south.
You tilt your head.
“Why are you setting it up that way?” You ask,
stepping aside for him to get out and stretch a little bit. You hear the faint
pop of his back.
“So we can sleep?” He glances sideways at you then
walks over to the fire, poking it with his foot. It was a pretty chilly night,
but nothing a few layers couldn’t help. Again, you wonder why this was your
“Hm.” You let it go, thinking that’s just how Four
was. He was funny, precise about certain things. He had his own way and you
knew you couldn’t do a damned thing about it, so you let him be most of the
time and just did your own thing, knowing it didn’t bother him in the least.
Four gets the fire really going, the flames licking
the air. He sits with his back to the edge and you hold in a laugh when you
remember he’s afraid of heights. The poor man nearly had a panic attack on his
way up here.
You scoot closer to the fire to get warm. Four rubs
his arms and you see him shiver a bit. Feeling guilty, you reach inside the
tent and grab a blanket. You walk behind him and drape the fleece around him,
making sure he was covered.
No words were exchanged, but the look he gave you was
enough. His eyes held so much power, so much story. They twinkled at you, the
smallest smile playing at his lips. He looked down at the fire again.
“Sorry it had to be me you were stuck with.” Four
starts up after you take a seat on the other side of the fire. “I know you
wanted it to be Maxwell.”
Suddenly you felt tense. You glare at Four and turn
the corners of your mouth down. “Excuse me?”
“He was very vocal about his feelings. You do share
them, don’t you?” He looks up at you, almost teasing you with the look in his
eyes. You narrow yours. “I forgot, you don’t like guys.”
“I don’t like Maxwell.” You state.
“According to him, you do.” He smirks at you and you
couldn’t help but shake your head slightly, holding up your middle finger and
playfully glaring at him.
“I don’t care about that asshole, Four.” You huff.