I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY
Summary: Your soulmate’s birthday is written on your arm, and it just happened to be the day the world ended.
Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Apocalypse, ANGST, Fluff, Infected, Violence, Scratching, Age-Gap (the reader is in her 20s) Romance, Unrequited, Longing, Yearning, Secrets, Injury, Blood, Jealousy, Secret Glances, Metaphors, Character Death/s, Raiders, Ambush, Hospital, Stress, Hurt-To-Comfort,
Word Count: 7k
A/N: I 1000% came up with this one night while scrolling through prompts and AUs I could do for Joel. I saw the Soulmate AU and I was like “oh, yeah,” *evil laugh* and then I heard the snippet for I love you, I’m Sorry and I was like, “yep, perfect, time to go through pain :D”
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams
| Main Masterlist |
September 26, 1967.
The date emblazoned on your wrist felt like a cruel joke, a bitter reminder of a world that had crumbled around you. The small pulse of the glow on your wrist thrummed, a haunting echo of the past. September 26 was outbreak day. The day the end of the world had come crashing down, leaving chaos and devastation in its wake. The inked numbers throbbed on your skin, a constant reminder that your soulmate was out there, somewhere in this apocalyptic wasteland.
You traced the numbers on your wrist, the ink seeming darker today, wondering if you’d ever meet the person who was meant for you. What kind of person could they be? Were they strong, gentle, kind, or hardened by the harsh world?
Hiding the mark from Joel for almost a decade took more than just care; it took an absolute miracle. You met Joel, Tess, and Tommy on your way to the Boston QZ. When you saw Joel’s wrist and the date there, you almost stopped breathing. Your birthdate on his skin was an unexpected blow. The ink on your wrist seemed to burn, yearning to connect with Joel. But his mark didn’t seem to react the same way.
When Joel and Tess started sleeping together, the walls between your apartments were paper-thin which seemed to amplify every intimate sound. You often found yourself wandering the hallways late at night, evading FEDRA officers, sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the empty night sky, stars twinkling, the moon bright. You wished for something good in a world gone bad.
You always wore long sleeves, even in unbearable heat. If you wore a short-sleeved shirt, you never took off your jacket, always coming up with some insane excuse about how cozy it was. It had become second nature, a routine you hardly thought about anymore.
As you kept your head down and worked, the grime and sweat accumulates on your skin. In exchange for your labor, you were given ration cards to obtain basic necessities.
"If it's so hot, why don't you just take off the damn jacket?" Joel gruffly asks, his irritation evident in his tone.
You stay silent and shrug, avoiding eye contact as you try to walk away to the next station, hoping to distance yourself from him. But he grabs your wrist, causing you to yank it away in surprise. "Joel, what the hell?"
Joel's tone is sharp and accusatory, causing you to instinctively flinch. "You're being awfully quiet," he scoffs.
You meet his eyes, trying to hide the turmoil inside. "What?"
"Something's off with you. What aren't you telling me?" Joel steps closer, invading your personal space, and you instinctively take a step back.
Panic sets in as you desperately search for a way out. You can't tell him the truth, so you grit your teeth and force out a lie. "I'm just tired."
"You're lying." Joel's words cut through you like a knife, making your heart race and palms sweat. The intensity of his gaze makes it clear that he won't let this go easily.
You try to remain composed, forcing a small smile. "I'm just tired from working all day."
Joel narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. "Bullshit," he says bluntly.
You bite your lip, feeling the weight of the lie in the pit of your stomach. "I promise, it's nothing."
Joel takes a step closer, making you back up against the wall. Your heart races as you feel trapped under his intense stare. "I know when something's bothering you," he says softly, his tone filled with concern.
You look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze any longer. You've been hiding this secret for so long that the thought of telling anyone, especially Joel, terrifies you.
"Please," Joel pleads, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. "Just talk to me."
"I have to go," you urgently declare, heart pounding as you turn and bolt away, ignoring Joel's desperate calls for you to stop.
Your heart races as you run through the dark, narrow alleys, trying to put as much distance between you and Joel as possible. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins drive you forward, but at the same time, your mind is racing with thoughts of guilt for leaving Joel behind.
"Why did I have to lie?" you think to yourself. "Why couldn't I just tell him the truth?"
But deep down, you know why. You know that if you were to tell anyone about the secret burdening you, it could cost both of your lives. And as much as it pains you to not tell Joel, there is no other choice.
The memories hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you back to that moment in time. But this time, it feels like you're watching from a distance, like a bystander in your own body.
"You can convince them. You always do." The words echo through your mind as Tess begs you and Joel for help. Tears stream down her face as she pleads, "You have to get her there. Keep her safe. Make things right." Joel shakes his head stubbornly, but Tess doesn't give up. "Please, Joel. Please say yes."
Everything feels surreal as you remember the infected pounding at the door, their screams like a constant reminder of what's at stake. And then Tess is gone, sacrificing herself with the rest of the infected to save the others.
Tess, your friend died that day.
But then everything shifts and you're in a different place, a house belonging to Bill and Frank. Ellie is reading a letter aloud, and you and Joel are there listening. "I used to hate the world," Ellie says, "but I was wrong. When I met my soulmate, there was one person worth saving. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…”
You remember Joel storming out of the house with the letter, his grief and pain palpable in every movement he makes. It's a bitter taste in both of your mouths, but it's also a reminder of why you keep fighting – because there are people worth protecting and worth saving.
Joel may not even realize it, but you've been waiting for him your entire life. And the same goes for Joel.
The scene changes once more; the deafening sound of gunshots pierces your ears and suddenly you're back in the hospital. You're behind Joel, gripping a rifle tightly as you navigate through the chaos and bodies scattered throughout the halls.
Suddenly, you startle awake. Your heart races in your chest, and sweat trickles down your skin as you struggle to catch your breath.
You’re not out there. You’re in Jackson. You’re safe.
You briefly close your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of fear and loss from the dream. It had been two years since that fateful day in the hospital, and you were now living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie.
You gasped for breath and clutched your chest, trying to steady yourself with one hand on the softness of the sheets. You clambered out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, washing your hands and then your face. The cool water felt refreshing against your skin as you wiped it with a towel, trying to calm your nerves.
Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, you saw the exhaustion written all over your face. The restlessness was evident in the dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was in a state of disarray.
"I look like I've been through hell," you muttered to yourself, sighing heavily.
You decided to take a shower, hoping it would help numb the pain. As the water cascaded over you, you let yourself sink into your thoughts, not really focusing on anything except the sound of water hitting your skin. Your bleary vision noticed the small cracks in the tiles on the wall.
Once you dried off and got dressed for the day, you headed downstairs to your small kitchen. The space had seen better days—cabinet doors hung slightly askew, and the pantry door refused to close all the way no matter how hard you tried.
You sighed, pushing the pantry door shut one more time before giving up and grabbing a mug from the chipped shelf. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the bitter aroma filling the air as you took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth.
Later that morning, you stepped out of your little house in Jackson, pausing to take in the crisp air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the town. You noticed the creaky and loose steps of your porch under your feet, each step emitting a groan of protest. The railings wobbled as you gripped them for balance, making a mental note to add them to your growing list of things that needed fixing.
It was just about daybreak, the sun slowly peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, the cozy sweater you wore providing some comfort as you made your way to the stables.
You were part of the barn support staff on rotation and consistently helped out in the greenhouse. Sometimes, you were out on patrol, but today was a barn day.
As you cleaned the barn and took care of the horses, you unconsciously rolled up your sleeves, figuring no one else would be up this early. You were alone in the stables, or so you thought.
Lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from your brow, you sighed. Suddenly, you heard the sound of something dropping and a familiar voice exclaiming, "Holy shit!"
You whipped your head around to the source of the sound and saw Ellie standing there, her eyes wide as she stared directly at your wrist.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hastily pulling your sleeve down.
Ellie took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "Is that... a soulmate mark?"
You avoided her gaze, feeling exposed. "It's nothing, Ellie. Just... don't worry about it."
"Nothing?!" She looked incredulous. "You’ve been hiding it all this time. Why didn't you tell me?"
You sighed, the weight of your secret feeling heavier than ever. "It's complicated, Ellie. Joel... Joel doesn't know."
Ellie’s eyes widened even more. "Joel? As in... Joel?"
You nodded, unable to find the right words. The truth was out now, and there was no going back.
Ellie moved into your space, her curiosity getting the better of her. Without warning, she grabbed your wrist, yanking it towards her. Her eyes zeroed in on the birthdate etched into your skin, her face a mix of shock and realization.
"September 26, 1967," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze snapped up to meet yours, eyes wide. "That's Joel's birthday."
You tried to pull your wrist back, but Ellie held on tight, her grip firm and unyielding. "Ellie, please," you started, your voice shaky.
"Dude," she cut you off, her tone urgent and insistent. "You need to fucking tell him."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Ellie, it's not that simple," you began, but she shook her head, not letting you finish.
"Not that simple?" she repeated, incredulous. "You've got his birthday on your wrist. You're soulmates! How much more complicated can it be?"
Your shoulders slumped as you finally managed to free your wrist from her grip. You rubbed the tender skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "You don't understand," you said softly. "Joel... he's been through so much. And so have I. Telling him now, after all these years... it might just make things worse."
Ellie's expression softened, but she didn't back down. "You think keeping it a secret is any better? He deserves to know. You both do."
You turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "Joel... he's moved on, he doesn’t want anything to do with relationships, and I don’t want to disrupt that."
Ellie snorted, crossing her arms. "Moved on? Joel’s not exactly the moving on type. He carries everything with him, all the time. You think he doesn't feel something for you?"
You glanced back at her, tears welling up in your eyes. "And what if he doesn't? What if he sees this and... and it means nothing to him?"
Ellie sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. "You'll never know if you don't try. And trust me, he’s stronger than you think. You both are."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, you just stood there, lost in thought. Finally, you nodded, a small, tentative movement. "I'll think about it," you whispered.
Ellie squeezed your shoulder gently before letting go. "Good. Because secrets have a way of coming out, one way or another. And it's better if it comes from you."
As she turned to leave, you stared down at the date on your wrist, the ink seeming to pulse with a life of its own.
Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.
You sat alone on the bench in the food hall, picking at your meal and lost in your thoughts when a familiar drawl pulled you back to reality.
"Hey, darlin’."
The sound of Joel’s voice made your heart skip a beat, and a sudden warmth spread through your body. You nearly choked on your food, glancing up to see him settling next to you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Hi, Joel,” you sputtered, trying to regain your composure.
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Mind if I join you?”
You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No, not at all.”
He leaned back, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “How’s your day been?”
You shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Busy, as always. Barn duties and all that.”
Joel nodded, his gaze lingering on your face. “Yeah, I hear you’ve been workin’ hard. Always see you runnin’ around, takin’ care of things.”
A soft blush crept up your cheeks under his scrutiny. “Just trying to keep busy, you know? What about you?”
“Same old,” he replied, his voice low and soothing. “Patrols, repairs, keepin’ an eye on Ellie. She’s a handful.”
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “She definitely keeps us on our toes.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he watched you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The bustling noise of the food hall became a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.
“You look tired,” he said gently, concern evident in his voice. “Everything alright?”
You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. “Just… a lot on my mind lately.”
Joel reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief but sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes searched yours, concern evident. “You sure you’re alright?”
Your breath hitched at the back of your throat, but you forced a smile. “Mmm... yeah. Just going through a to-do list in my mind right now.”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze never leaving your face. “Anythin’ that needs fixin’, darlin’?”
You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just a few kitchen cabinets... the hinges squeak, and the pantry door doesn’t close all the way. Also a couple of loose steps and a wobbly railing too.
He nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “Well, why don’t I take a look? Might be an easy fix.”
Your heart fluttered at the offer, a mix of gratitude and the thrill of being near him. “You don’t have to, Joel. I know you’re busy.”
Joel chuckled softly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he let go. “I’ve always got time for you. Besides, can’t have you fightin’ with those cabinets every day.”
You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Alright, if you insist.”
Joel’s eyes twinkled with a warm light. “I’ll swing by tomorrow mornin’, if that’s alright with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with him. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’d appreciate the help.”
He gave a slow, easy smile that made your stomach flutter. “Great. I’ll bring my tools and we’ll get this place sorted.”
The way he said “we” filled you with a sense of comfort and belonging. “Thanks, Joel. It really means a lot.”
Joel stepped closer, his hand brushing against your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Anytime, darlin’. You know I’m here for you.”
You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I know.”
His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the air thick with unspoken words and the electric tension between you. Finally, he took a step back, breaking the spell.
“I should get goin’,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. “Gotta talk to Tommy ‘bout somethin’.”
“Right, of course,” you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment but also a thrill of anticipation for tomorrow.
Joel lingered by the table, a hand on your shoulder. “Take care, okay?”
“You too, Joel,” you said softly.
He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look. You watched him walk away, your heart pounding and your mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring.
The next morning, you were up at dawn, nerves and excitement thrumming through you as you tidied up the kitchen. Each movement was deliberate, an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But no matter how much you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, your heart racing each time the hands inched closer to Joel’s promised arrival.
As you finished your second cup of coffee, the knock on the door startled you, sending a jolt through your already frazzled nerves. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door to find Joel standing there, a toolbox in one hand and a warm, familiar smile on his face.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted, stepping inside, his presence filling the room.
“Morning, Joel,” you replied, the rush of warmth at seeing him making your voice tremble slightly.
He set the toolbox down and looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealin’ with here.”
As Joel began inspecting the cabinets and pantry door, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Every subtle flex of his muscles under his shirt drew your attention, and you found it hard to look away.
“Found the problem,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Just needs a little tightening and some oil.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the magnetic pull of his proximity. “I’m glad it’s an easy fix.”
Joel smiled, his eyes locking with yours, sending a spark of electricity through you. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
As he worked, you found yourself drawn to him, moving closer under the pretense of handing him tools or holding a flashlight. Each accidental brush of your hands sent a jolt through you, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. You felt your pulse quicken every time his fingers grazed yours.
“There,” Joel said finally, standing up and testing the now-silent hinges. “Good as new.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and a little breathless from being so close to him. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just doin’ what I can.”
You both stood there for a moment, the kitchen suddenly feeling too small and too big all at once. The silence between you was heavy with everything you weren’t saying, a tension that seemed to thicken the air.
“Joel,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I really appreciate this. More than you know.”
He looked at you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache. “I’m glad I could help. And I meant what I said yesterday—you don’t have to do everything alone.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you took a tentative step closer, the distance between you feeling like an unbearable chasm. “It’s hard to ask for help sometimes. But knowing you’re here... it makes a difference.”
Joel reached out, his fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. You felt drawn to him, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment. Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest.
His breath hitched as you moved closer, the air between you charged with a heady mix of anticipation and yearning. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between holding back and giving in. The warmth of his body so close to yours was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve weakening with each passing second.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with all the longing you’d kept hidden for so long.
He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “I—”
Just as the air between you thickened with unspoken words, a sudden, sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment. You both turned to see a young woman standing there, her eyes lighting up when she saw Joel.
“Hey, Joel!” she called out, her tone annoyingly bright. “I heard you were here and thought I’d bring over some coffee. Figured you could use a break.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “Uh, thanks, Vanessa,” he replied, his voice strained. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to you, her gaze turning cold. “Oh, I see. Well, maybe I could help?”
Before you could step away, Joel’s arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. The unexpected gesture sent a shiver through you, and you looked up at him, your heart pounding.
“We’re busy, Vanessa,” Joel said firmly, his hand resting possessively on your hip. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got it covered.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in obvious jealousy. “Right. Well, if you change your mind...” She trailed off, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of disdain and envy before she finally turned and walked away.
As soon as she was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Joel’s grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go. His eyes met yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “Didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay. I appreciate the backup.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that sent tingles down your spine. “Guess we should get back to work, huh?”
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back, though his touch lingered in your mind. “Yeah, the step and railing on the porch still need fixing.”
Together, you moved outside, the tension from earlier still simmering between you. As Joel inspected the loose step, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. The way his hands moved with such confidence and skill, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it all captivated you.
“Can you hold this steady for me?” he asked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
You nodded, stepping closer to help. Your hands brushed against his as you held the wood in place, and the contact sent a jolt through you. The proximity, the shared task, the quiet intimacy of the moment—it all felt like a dance, each movement charged with unspoken feelings.
“Almost got it,” Joel murmured, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took all your willpower not to lean into him.
Finally, he tightened the last screw and tested the step, making sure it was secure. “There. That should do it.”
You smiled, genuinely grateful and more than a little breathless. “Thank you, Joel. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening. “Just doin’ what I can.”
As you both stood there on the porch, the morning sun casting a golden glow around you, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. Everything you wanted to say but didn't wash over you in the awkward stillness, and the feelings you shared were nearly visible.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the landscape as you and your patrol partner, Mark, scouted the perimeter. He was easy-going, always ready with a joke or a reassuring word. You found his presence comforting, a steady rock amidst the chaos.
“Think we’ll find anything today?” you asked, keeping your voice low.
Mark grinned, his eyes scanning the horizon. “Nah, it’s been quiet for a while now. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Just as the words left his mouth, a shot rang out. The next few moments were a blur of chaos and violence. Raiders, hidden in the underbrush, launched their attack. Mark managed to shoot one off you, his quick reflexes saving your life. But then, he was hit, and you watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground.
“Mark!” you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood poured from a wound in his chest, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. You pressed your hands against the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. “Stay with me, Mark. Please, stay with me.”
But his eyes glazed over, the light fading. You choked back a sob, fury and grief surging through you as the raiders closed in. You fought with every ounce of strength you had, slashing and stabbing, your vision blurred by tears and the pouring rain that had begun to fall. Blood and dirt smeared your face, and pain lanced through your body from multiple wounds.
The storm roared with fury, whipping the trees and lashing the ground with torrents of rain. You stumbled through the churning chaos, your clothes drenched and clinging to your skin, your muscles burning from the effort of pushing forward. Your vision blurred by the onslaught, you fought to keep moving, each step a battle against the ferocious elements. In that moment, all that mattered was survival - staying alive until the tempest passed.
It had been hours since Joel last saw them. His graying hair was in danger of being pulled out in frustration. You and Mark were supposed to be back by now. The patrol route you both took was supposed to be a shorter one.
Joel paced back and forth in the settlement, struggling to contain his anger. “Why the hell can’t I go out there, Tommy? She’s my partner, my—” He cut himself off, frustration and fear etched into his features.
Tommy placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm. “You’re too close to this, Joel. You need to stay here. I’ll find her.”
Hours dragged by, each minute an eternity. Joel’s rage simmered, his helplessness gnawing at him. He punched the wall, his knuckles splitting, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing you.
Tommy had taken a small team out to search for you and Mark, but there was still no word. The storm raged on, making it even harder to find any trace of you.
Joel’s mind raced with possibilities – had you and Mark been ambushed? Taken by the raiders? Injured and unable to make it back? His heart clenched at the thought of you hurt or worse.
He cursed himself for not going out with you both, for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He knew better than anyone that in this world, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But he had let himself become complacent, too focused on protecting you rather than seeing things clearly.
Bile rises in Joel's throat, the taste of fear and worry leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling down as he anxiously waits for any news.
The bitter taste of regret and fear lingered on Joel’s tongue, each thought of what could happen to you making his stomach turn.
The metallic taste of blood was thick on Joel's tongue as he bit down on his lip, trying to hold back his emotions. The rancid taste of fear and worry lingered in his mouth, coating his throat and making it hard to swallow.
Meanwhile, Tommy pushed through the storm, his eyes straining to pierce the darkness. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant echoes of thunder. He called out your name, his voice barely audible above the roar of the tempest. His heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination, each step sinking into the mud as he trudged forward.
The rain came down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the twisted branches and slick ground for brief moments. He stumbled over fallen logs and through thick underbrush, the storm making every movement a struggle.
Tommy's eyes darted around, searching desperately. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach, a fear that he was too late. Then, in the distance, he saw a figure lying still. His breath caught in his throat as he hurried over, praying that it wasn't you.
As he got closer, he recognized the bodies of the raiders, their lifeless forms sprawled across the muddy ground. The sight was gruesome, the aftermath of a brutal fight. His heart sank when he saw Mark, his friend and comrade, lying motionless with a fatal wound. He forced himself to look away, his focus now solely on finding you.
Finally, his eyes landed on you, crumpled and barely breathing. His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt beside you. Blood soaked your clothes, mingling with the dirt and rain, creating a grim tapestry that told the story of your fierce struggle.
“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice trembling with urgency and concern. He gently lifted your head, cradling you in his arms. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open to reveal dazed, pain-filled eyes.
“Joel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. The confusion and pain in your gaze made Tommy’s heart clench.
Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the mark on your wrist, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It was the same date he had seen on Joel’s wrist—the same mark. Realization hit him like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with a sudden clarity. “It’s Tommy,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you. Just hold on.”
But you had already slipped back into unconsciousness, your body limp in his arms. Tommy’s heart raced as he gently but urgently lifted you, securing you on his horse. He mounted behind you, holding you close to keep you steady, and spurred the horse into a gallop.
The ride back was a blur of rain and darkness, each second stretching into an eternity. The storm seemed to rage even harder, the wind whipping through the trees and the rain stinging like needles. Tommy’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, fear for your life mingling with the shocking revelation of your connection to Joel.
By the time Tommy reached the settlement, his clothes were soaked through, clinging to his skin like a second, frigid layer. Every muscle in his body ached from the grueling ride and the weight of your unconscious form. The rain had not let up, and his vision was blurred by the relentless downpour. But he didn't stop, carrying you swiftly yet carefully towards the infirmary, each step a struggle against exhaustion and worry.
Joel was just by the large gate of Jackson, pacing anxiously. The moment he saw Tommy approaching with your limp body, his heart seemed to stop. His face, already drawn with worry, twisted into an expression of sheer desperation.
“Is she okay?” Joel asked frantically, his voice cracking. His eyes were wide, darting between Tommy and your pale face for any sign of hope.
“She’s alive,” Tommy said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He handed you over to the medics who were rushing to meet them. Joel instinctively moved to follow, but Tommy grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Joel, wait. Look at her wrist,” Tommy urged, his voice low but insistent.
Joel’s eyes followed Tommy's gaze, landing on the mark on your wrist. Recognition hit him like a punch to the gut, the date etched into your skin unmistakable. It was the same as his. Realization dawned with a mixture of awe and dread. “Fuck,” he breathed, the weight of it crashing over him. The one person he couldn’t afford to lose was you, and now he knew why.
The medics were quick, their movements efficient as they assessed your injuries and began to prepare you for treatment. They lifted you onto a stretcher, intent on rushing you inside where they could better tend to your wounds. Joel moved to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but the medics tried to hold him back.
“Sir, you need to let us do our job,” one of them said, a young woman with a firm but gentle voice.
“No,” Joel growled, his eyes blazing with determination and fear. “I ain’t leavin’ her side.”
Tommy stepped in, trying to reason with him. “Joel, you gotta let the doctors work.”
Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with the effort to contain his emotions. “I can’t… I can’t lose her, Tommy,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain and anger.
“I know, but you stayin’ in there won’t help her. You’ll only be in the way,” Tommy said, his tone gentle but firm. He placed a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “You’ve gotta trust them to do their job. Let them help her.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the door to the infirmary where they had taken you. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to be by your side, to make sure you were safe. But he knew Tommy was right. With a heavy, reluctant nod, he allowed himself to be led away, his heart aching with every step.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited. Joel paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. He could still see the image of you, broken and bloodied, every time he closed his eyes. The mark on your wrist haunted him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied you together. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn't bear to lose you.
Tommy stood by, watching his brother with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew how much you meant to Joel, and the revelation of the soulmate mark only intensified that bond. He wished there was something more he could do, some way to ease Joel’s pain.
Finally, a medic emerged from the infirmary, her expression tired but relieved. “She’s stable,” she announced, and Joel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “She’s got a long road to recovery, but she’s a fighter.”
Joel nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He would stay by your side, no matter what. The bond you shared was too precious to ever let go.
Days blurred into a haze of sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines. You drifted in and out of consciousness, each time greeted by the comforting sounds of Joel and Ellie. Joel's low, soothing voice often filled the room, whether he was talking to you or humming a soft tune. Ellie would sit by your bed, recounting stories with her usual animated flair, her voice a bright spot in the darkness.
One evening, as the storm outside mirrored the chaos within, you stirred slightly. The weight of Joel's hand on your wrist was a grounding force, his presence unwavering. He looked exhausted, his eyes heavy with worry, but he never left your side.
In one of your more lucid moments, you caught snippets of Joel's soft singing, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His voice was a balm, a tether to the world you were trying so hard to rejoin. He would often lean down to press gentle kisses to your forehead, his touch both a promise and a plea for you to come back to him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you awoke fully. Your throat was dry, and every muscle ached, but you were aware. The weight on your wrist brought your gaze to Joel. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his head resting on the edge, fast asleep. He looked worn out, dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing your gaze.
“I...” Your voice came out as a croak, and you winced.
“Here, drink up,” Joel said, quickly pouring a glass of water and holding it to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.
After a few sips of water, you managed to find your voice again. “How long have I been out?” you asked, your throat feeling slightly raw from disuse.
“Almost a week,” Joel replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
“A week?” you repeated in shock. It felt like only a few hours had passed.
Joel nodded, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “You were pretty out of it for a while there.”
You felt a pang of guilt for causing so much worry and trouble for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said firmly, his eyes filled with intensity. “Just focus on getting better.”
“I will,” you promised, grateful for his unwavering support.
The relief on Joel’s face was palpable, but as he set the glass aside, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?” His voice was quiet, but the intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.
You looked away, shame burning your cheeks. “Trust me, I know. It's always about me.”
Joel's jaw clenched. “I just… I didn’t think you could ever want me.” Your voice broke, the years of hiding and pretending catching up to you.
Joel’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. “You’ve always been more than I deserve,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d told me.”
Tears filled your eyes, and you struggled to breathe. “I love you…” you choked out, the words finally escaping your lips after years of being held back. “I’m sorry.”
Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
In the midst of life's storms, a quiet calm settled around you both, like discovering an oasis in the desert. Amidst chaos and pain, you found your soulmate, and love emerged as the unwavering light guiding you through the darkest nights.
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So, here is my humble request 👀:
Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.
When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.
Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.
So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.
I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻
Would That I -- Part 1
A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!
Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.
Part 2 Part 3
Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.
“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”
Rhysand cleared his throat.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.
“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”
His brow furrowed.
“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.
“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.
You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.
You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.
---
In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.
You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.
He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.
“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.
“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.
---
As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.
Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.
He loosed a breath.
“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.
“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Is Cass--?”
“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.
“Ok.”
Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.
“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”
You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.
“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”
You scoff.
“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”
Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.
“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”
Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.
“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.
Rhysand sighed.
“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”
---
It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.
You sat up worried.
“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”
“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”
You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.
“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.
You snuggled up to your eldest brother.
“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Azriel tucked you under his arm.
“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.
---
Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.
He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.
Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.
“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.
“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”
Eris rolled his eyes.
“Just show me your plans, Ash.”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.
“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.
In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.
He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.
It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.
When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.
Asher sighed,
“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.
“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.
“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”
“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.
“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”
“She is my mate.” Eris growled.
“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.
“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.
“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”
Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.
He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.
---
The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.
Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.
Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.
Disgust.
What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.
Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.
Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.
Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.
“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”
You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.
“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.
“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.
A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.
Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.
Would that you could be half as lucky.
Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.
---
There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.
“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.
“Eris will be there.” You said.
“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.
“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”
And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.
Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.
In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.
Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—
“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the magic word.”
“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.
A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...
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