#no wonder cardan is on his knees for jude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wanderingpages · 10 months

Note

peach!! can you write a car sex jurdan smut? it can be short but the concept is so sexy 😭 on my knees rn

∞

“You’re trouble,” Cardan had told me minutes prior, but he repeats it now, more wary than he had been when he said it by the bar. Maybe I had used him then, because it sounded like flirting to me and I so badly needed his help. It’s how I’d always gotten what I needed before. Maybe I thought he was no different, so I took him down to a hall no one ever used and pressed him up against the wall. I smiled at him, feeling shy from his attention but not wanting to admit it. My hands had wound around his neck, and his fingertips traced up my shoulder, guiding my hair to one side. He placed a kiss on my throat and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Then further up he trailed his soft lips and I gasped. I gripped at his hair to guide his lips to mine. He tasted heady and like the scotch I had given him. Cardan had cradled the back of my head, tilting me as he pressed his tongue into my mouth to open and deepen the kiss. He felt like mine, I felt a little guilty answering his question.

“Jude,” he had murmured against my skin, kissing a patch from my mouth to my throat, then his lips were by my ears and he asked, “What do you want from me, princess?” When I told him, he immediately fell back, only half in a daze but vehemently shaking his no – but I won in the end, because here we are, where I asked to be. I feel only a little remorseful and he’s telling me I’m trouble again.

I tilt my body, trying to get a closer look at the scene, but no matter how much I shift and turn, I can’t quite make out who my father is with, nor what he’s saying. My finger absently finds the buttons on the side of the car, but before I can lower the window, Cardan takes hold of my wrist. I’m already practically on top of him, my knees bracing against the console from the passenger’s side, and a hand planted firmly onto his lap. So it shouldn’t bother me when he pulls me closer, tightening his hold on me. Cardan’s warm fingers encircle my wrists, his thumb right where my veins sing.

I’m alive, he should note. I give him a look, eyes unable to stray too far from his still pink and swollen lips. I did that, I think to myself. I wonder how many other can say the same. And then I realize I don’t actually want to consider that at all. Cardan narrows his dark eyes at me, “Don’t even think about it, Jude.” My name on his tongue always felt like sin, but it’s when he teases me with my pseudo-reign that I feel like penance should only a breath away.

“But -” my mouth feels dry, searching for excuses but he shakes his head, halting my explanation.

“We’re not even supposed to be here,” he seethes, “and if you think we’re not being watched right now, you’re sorely mistaking.” I find myself pouting when he firmly guides me back into my seat, forcing me to gather the rest of my surroundings. We’re in a secluded area, backroads lined with trash bags and oily pathways between buildings. My father is currently having a “business meeting,” as he explained before abruptly leaving. I’ve only ever seen business meetings that take place between alleyways in movies that involve the mob.

When I tell Cardan this, pointedly looking at my father’s silhouette, he gives me a dry kind of look I choose to ignore. So long as he’s looking at me, I suppose. He was left in charge of watching over the club in Dad’s absence, but we both knew it just meant watching over me. I was working the bar tonight, a job my father now is incredibly annoyed with, despite the fact it had been his suggested punishment for my overspending a bit.

“Just because there’s no limit does not mean you get to test that theory, Jude.” I roll my eyes now, because jokes on him; I'm a hit at parties now that I know to mix drinks and do little flairs that I’m quite proud of. I like to impress Cardan with them when he leaves Dad’s office and orders something boring on the rocks. I’m nearly positive that’s the charm that had him following me to that hall and led to him driving me right where we are currently parked.

“Haven’t you heard the saying? Curiosity killed the girl.”

“It does not go like that,” I tell Cardan, unamused.

I’m no idiot, I know Madoc’s club is only half of where our family income comes from, and the guests he entertains in the VIP section are never just guests. Business partners maybe, buyers or sellers, I could never tell. It was the same as usual until Dad had gotten a phone call in the middle of his hosting. It had seemed as if he had been waiting for the call all evening. However, him leaving abruptly made me too antsy to stand idle and make vodka cranberries all night. It always felt like the entire staff was in on a big secret I wasn’t apart of. It didn’t help that lately, Dad had been a little worn down, coming home tired or frustrated, answering calls curtly, stuck in his own head looking haggard. I’m allowed to worry.

“You didn’t,” Cardan says, pausing the sudden gnawing I’d been doing on my bottom lip, “by the way. Your bar tricks are not what got you into my car.” I guess he’s a mind reader now too.

“You’re telling me you weren’t impressed with my juggling?” I didn’t even break a bottle this time.

He sighs, “you probably could have just asked and I’d taken you.” I raise an eyebrow, not believing him since even with all my womanly whiles and eccentric charm, I still had to plead with him to get out here. The side of his lip tilts up in a smirk. “I just like watching you beg.” He shrugs, “So, you would have begged.” His warm voice sends a shiver down my spine. “Maybe I would have gotten you on your knees.” He could still get me on my knees if he asked nicely, but I don’t tell him that. Cardan glances out the window, making a face at the two men. “There’s no point in being here if you can’t even hear what’s being said.”

I nod at this, finding my composure. “Exactly, Mr. Greenbriar.” I grin, “We should move closer.”

“No,” he tells me. He fumbles for the lock but my door is swung open before he manages to press the button. His eyes widen, “Jude,” he scowls quietly when I give him a triumphant grin. Without waiting, I duck for cover, sneaking up closer to the building. “Fuck me,” I hear Cardan moan. “Jude, you idiot,” he mutters, silently getting out of the car and following me. When he’s caught up, he pushes me behind him as we near the corner of the building. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Are you not carrying?” I ask a bit startled. “Wait so that wasn’t a gun in your pocket? You really were excited to see me?” His hand comes over my mouth, and my eyes widen in shock, absolutely enthralled with the way he’s decided to manhandle me tonight. I’m always the one testing boundaries, so maybe my heart pounds a little faster at our proximity more than the shooters probably ready to gun us down – if Cardan is right about us being watched.

“Have you always been this bratty?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him instead of giving him an actual answer. He looks heavenwards before moving to stand behind me. One hand is now across my chest, the other still firmly over my mouth. I lick him but he doesn’t let off. “Of course, I’m armed, but I’m not Superman, princess. I don’t even think I have 15 rounds,” he says the last part more to himself, but that’s news to me anyways.

We lean closer to the alleyway, bracing our shoulders on to the bricks of the building. Whatever Dad and his friend are talking about is only slightly less muffled than before. Its longer than I expect to finally make out pretty keywords like “shipment” and “missing equipment,” and then something that has me ridged.

“You have three daughters don’t you, Madoc?”

“Don’t bring them into this,” Dad responds clearly. My heart beats even faster, I'm all too aware of Cardan’s palm searing hot against the unsteady thumping. He pulls me even tighter against him. Dad says, “I came in good faith to hear you out. You’re the one who lost my supplies.”

“You’re the one who lost two of my guys,” the other man counters, not really angry and seemingly uncaring for the men in question. He makes my skin crawl on sight alone.

“That’s not my -”

The other man holds up a finger, cutting my father off, offending me in the process. His phone had been ringing and Cardan stiffens, as the man answers, eyes still boring holes into my father. “Yes…really? Okay...” He hangs up and tilts his head, “Good faith? Someone’s tailing us.”

“I didn’t -” whatever my dad says, I don’t get to hear. Cardan is cursing, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me towards the car. It’s a struggle because my entire body wants to run to Dad, but the hold Cardan has on me is iron tight. A shot goes off and my body seizes. My eyes go so wide they hurt. I only wanted to know what Dad was hiding, wanted in on the big secret everyone knew but me – wanted some type of undeniable proof so he couldn’t brush this away, brush me away. More shots are fired and I’m too far to know who’s shooting at who.

Cardan pulls open the car door and shoves me in before rushing to the other side. I don’t even have my seatbelt on when he pulls out of the spot. I hear more bangs ricocheting and panic begins to set in, “Cardan! Dad -”

“He’s fine – Balekin wasn’t lying.”

“Balekin?”

Cardan doesn’t exactly answer me, but continues, “Madoc definitely brought back up. No good faith and all that.” He waves his hand and it freaks me out that both hands are not on the steering wheel. It also unnerves me that Cardan knows my Dad’s tells more than me. “We, on the other hand…” he trails off, shifting gears and stepping on the gas. My heart flies into my throat. I hurriedly manage to snap on the seatbelt, but even then, I don’t think that’ll protect me at all if Cardan decides to bend us into a tree or light pole or worse – another vehicle. “God,” he mutters, “you’re so reckless, Jude” he mumbles, “absolute fucking brat,” he continues. My cheeks flare pink but I hold my tongue, scared I might vomit if I talk. I grip at the leather seats so tight I feel my knuckles start to cramp. “And me – I follow you like a fucking dog.” Outside is a blur of lights and the night sky. I'm too scared to look at the speedometer but I know it’s beyond what the legal limit is. The one reprieve is that the road is clear for now.

“I think where in a fifty zone,” I finally manage in a squeak. Cardan side eyes me and I let out a yelp, “Oh my god, pay attention to the road!”

My hysterical tone eases him somehow, because he begins to relax. He eyes the rear view mirror and shrugs, taking a hand off the steering wheel again. My heart is beating so fast that my eyes seem to shake at every little pump. “We’re good,” he lets me know. He smirks at me and when I look sick at his lack of attention to the road, he tells me, “Crack the widow, let your hair down and all.” He does it for me with his free hand reaching to the top of my head, pulling at the clip securing my bun. It unravels just as the window slides down. Air gusts through my hair and stings my face.

My ears are filled with the rush of wind. “I…” My words are lost in the noise.

“It’s okay, princess, I’m a good driver,” he promises.

“What are you,” I manage, hoarse, “Dad’s getaway driver?” he shifts gears and I'm seeing double. Soon we’ll be doing donuts in the parking lot.

He shrugs, “When he needs me to be.” I remember what he said about curiosity killing the girl and that must explain the stroke I’m having. I feel like an idiot – a little girl trying to be much bigger than she is. What the hell would Dad even say if I go to him about tonight? He’d probably gaslight me. I shakily look back, wondering if we’re being followed. I calm when I see that its just us. “Do you trust me?”

I nod my head and settle back into the seat. I try to get my mind off of this, thinking about our kiss from earlier instead. Had only an hour passed since then? I should apologize for leading him on only to get him here. Except I hadn’t really led him on. I’ve wanted Cardan since the moment Dad introduced us. I think him working directly under my father only fueled my desire more. It felt very taboo. However, those thoughts only race my pulse for a completely different reason. Slowly, I release my death grip on the seat and hold my hand out to Cardan. He raises a brow, but takes it anyway, letting me squeeze it tightly. “Yeah,” I whisper. I clear my throat, “I trust you.”

There’s a lot to take in, but I'm trying to stabilize my pulse instead. It’s like an onslaught of adrenaline wafting through me repeatedly and I can’t find a release. The car rolls to a stop just off the highway and into the cover of trees and shrubbery, This feels like an illegal spot to park, but what do I know? I watch in a stupor as the slim needle on the dashboard falls from somewhere in the hundreds down, down, down to 0. I find myself absolutely petrified but yet a giggle escapes me. Suddenly, I have this uncontrollable urge to laugh because if I don’t, I think I might cry.

“Are you okay?” Cardan reaches over and unclips my belt. He then brushes my hair back, forcing my gaze to his. He thumbs at my eyes, tearing up from the wind, and not at all because of the emotional turmoil I’m going through.

The rush that had been whipping past my ear had been halted so suddenly that my head begins to sway. I turn to look at him, uncaring for once how unput together I must look. “Dad…”

“He’s fine,” Cardan says again, sure of himself. “Are you?”

“Not dead,” I confirm, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. I give him a dazed look, and then, I smile softly at him. It must have been what he was waiting for. In one swift motion, Cardan tugs me over the console, guiding me to straddle is lap. My skirt hikes up and Cardan only pushes it up higher. There’s a pulse between my legs and when he pulls me down, his breath tickles my skin, filling me with heat all the way to the pit of my stomach.

“You’re okay,” he tells me quietly. “It’s okay, Jude.” I nod, placing my hands in his shoulder, fingers teasing at his dark curls. I stare at his neck, at the tendon there that I want to place my lip against. I bend down to do just that, letting his steady pulse beat against my skin. “Jude,” he murmurs, tilting his head to give me more access. When I press my lips on his skin, he sucks in a breath.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, leaning up.

His hands run up my thighs, and if I had survived a shootout and a lone speed race, I don’t think I can survive Cardan and the way he looks at me right now. “For what?”

“Using you?”

Cardan chuckles, and reaches one hand up, working at the buttons of my shirt. Slowly, he pushes it off my shoulders, letting the material fall to the floor, all the while he’s admiring the swell of my breasts, contained only by sheer white lace. He looks up at me, gauging my come down from the adrenaline. I’m still utterly tweaked, and every touch of his is no help at all. My skin is on fire everywhere his fingertips touch. He teases a digit over my breast, up my neck and to my chin, pinching it between his fingers and pulling me forward. “I don’t think it counts,” he tells me. “I would have done this anyway,” he reminds me.

“Oh,” is all I can say.

His lips graze against mine and there’s a heat pooling between my legs. I shift, only to find him already hard and straining in his jeans. “Tell me to stop,” he mouths against me. I don’t. My eyes flutter and I hold on to him tighter. I pick at the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them until my cool hands can press firmly to his hard chest. His muscle seem to tighten when I graze them. Cardan holds my wrist gently this time, guiding it further down to his navel. “Come on princess, tell me this is a bad idea.” I stay silent. Even if it was a bad idea, I won’t let it stop. “Then open your mouth for me.”

My lips part for him and when our tongues meet, Cardan moans softly. He pulls me in closer, nipping at my bottom lip, sucking on it until my toes curl. His hand on my thigh slides over my ass and between my legs from behind. His fingers deftly rubbing at the already wet cotton and I gasp out, arching my neck, letting him trace his tongue down my skin. He pulls down a strap of my bra with his free hand, meeting my eyes and keeping my gaze as he lowers his head to kiss the tip of my breast. I inhale when his tongue laves my nipple, drawing it into his mouth. He sucks gently at first, finger rubbing over me just as soft. Then, he tugs my underwear to the side, now parting my pussy just as he begins to suck on me harder.

He makes a noise that vibrates against my skin. I hold his head against me, nearly close to weeping. His teeth graze my skin and I jump, hitting my head against the ceiling of the car. He pulls away from me, his lips obscenely wet and his eyes lidded. He reaches up, rubbing my head before feeling the side of his seat and pulling a lever to slowly recline the seat. “Sorry,” he says and I laugh, despite the ache in my breast and the throb in my pussy. I bite at my lip and undo his belt. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me and my skin heats up. He pulls the other side of my bra down while I stroke his stiff cock. “Beautiful,” he repeats, I'm dripping between my thighs and his finger rubs me faster.

I go in for another kiss. Not short and sweet like I had been intending. This time Cardan kisses me rough and hard. There’s passion and ache between us. He reaches down to align the head of his cock where it needs to be. He rubs the tip between my slit with one hand, the other moves to come between us, rubbing soft circles into my clit. My knees strain on either side of him, and I let out a whimper when he teases the head shallowly. My hand finds his shoulders, and I cry out when he thrusts upwards, impaling me in one swift movement.

“Cardan!” My head falls forward, into his neck, and I try to muffle the cry into his skin. He gives me little time to adjust before he pulls out and slams back in. My muscles pulse when he pauses again, gripping him in spasms. He groans wrapping his arms around my back, moving me to his pace now, and I try to keep up with his steady pounding, but all I can find the energy to do is lay on top of him and take it as the length of him rubs every tender spot within me. I’m groaning and panting and he’s whispering my name.

“Jude…” my nipples feel so tender, brushing against his chest at every thrust, “God – you take me so good, don’t you?” I feel like I’m being spilt in two and its absolutely delicious. “Does that feel good, princess?”

“Yes,” I say, breathing hard. He thrusts into me harder, and harder and swear he’s rocking the car, but I want more of him, so much more. “Yes – Cardan…” my eyes get glassy, and I shut them tight, pressing my head onto his shoulder. He slows down and grabs hold of my hair, pulling my head back. The slower he moves the deeper he seems to go; the tip of his dick kissing at my womb. I whimper, fingers flexing against his skin

“Look at me,” he whispers, sweat sheening his body now, slick and warm. His eyes are wild and full of lust and I'm so gone for him, so absolutely gone for this man. “Tell me,” Cardan requests in a slur. “Say it again.”

“It feels… so good,” I manage, “ah… more,” I beg and he’s ramming into me now, so hard and rough and then I say, “faster… please…” and it’s so frantic that I grab on to the headrest, bracing myself so I could take everything he gives me. There’s a tight knot at the pit of my stomach, and my cunt is dripping onto him. My heart hasn’t calmed down since the first gunshot but I find that I don’t mind the intense thumping anymore; it makes me feel so alive instead of being on the verge of death.

“Come for me, baby,” Cardan orders. He fucks me so recklessly, and his shaft rubs against my throbbing clit at every deep stroke. I feel delirious, holding my breath and clenching my stomach.

“Ah,” I cry out, back arching. His hand in my hair loosens to roam down my body. “I…Oh,” I bite at my lips, feeling the start of an orgasm that wouldn’t quite come. “I don’t know if I…” my confession trails off as I fall back with his guidance, careful not to honk the horn. He slows down again, torturing me. His finger finds my hardened clit and I scream when he presses down on it.

“You can,” Cardan lets me know. “You will,” he promises, in a breath. “For me, just for me.” My hands are frantic, unsure of what to hold onto. He pulls them around his neck, bringing me over him again. “I can go as long as it takes, princess,” he says into my ear before he kisses me there, then lower until his teeth latches on to the curve of my neck, all while fucking me hard and deep and so dirty, driving into me with little mercy. I’ve forgotten my name, it must be Princess with how much he says it. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, just him being inside of me does.

He fucks me endlessly and I bite down on his neck, mirroring him, screaming when I come. It feels so intense, I see stars as I shudder uncontrollably. Cardan cries out too, slamming into me one last time, his climax mixing with mine and it seems unending when I shudder again, tightening my thighs against his. I gasp again when my stomach clenches, “Cardan,” I whimper, slowly coming down.

Cardans hand brushes down my back, soothing me as we both try to catch our breaths. He gently lifts me up, letting his cock slip from me. Come drips out of me, pouring onto him but he doesn’t care and I don’t think I care either. He smooths my hair back and pulls me in for a kiss, soft and slow this time. He reaches between us, and my body jolts when he pets my pussy, rubbing at the soreness sure to come soon. When we pull away, I ask, “Where did that come from?”

“Long time in the making,” he grins wryly, “you already knew that though.” I roll my eyes but jump at the vibration in his pants. His phone was buzzing. He pauses his hand on me and reaches into his pocket awkwardly. It’s my dad’s name on the screen and my cheek runs from a soft blush to full on crimson. Cardan unlocks it and reads the message. He looks up at me warily. “He’s asking why you left early from the bar.”

“Tell him I went for a ride.” I grin.

Cardan fights a smile, muttering, “trouble,” like a praise as he begins to type.

307 notes · View notes

jurdanhell · 1 year

Note

Okay so basically, I was re reading the chapter where Cardan asks Jude “and is it out of your system?” And Jude’s like “oh yea yea totally” sis, we all know that’s LIES 😂. I was just trying to imagine an alternate scene thinking.. what if she says no? Idk about anyone else but I think it would lead to basically chapter 15 part 2 so I was wondering if you could write a filthy something something 😂🥴 (like I mentioned before, no pressure)

I Will Know Nothing (Until I Know You)

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1,432

Rating: Mature

“And is it?" He asks. "Out of your system?”

I think of the blusher mushroom, the deathsweet, the wraithberry running through my veins with equal measure ferocity and instinct. We are alike in this way.

“No,” I say, because the indulgence of poison is one that I know greater than anything else.

I am unlearned at love and its making, but no matter how obvious that is to him, he does not let it show. Not when he guides my hands so carefully over him. Not when he redirects my nails to claw again at his back as he brings his mouth to the tender space just behind my ear. I suck my lip between the sharpest edges of my teeth, against the sound that rumbles in the back of my throat, because what this really is is a secret, and the more he knows is all the more he can use against me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to bleed.

The familiar sickness of poison roils through my gut, twinged with something else. A layer of sweat sheens over my skin and I am dizzy from the blood that rushes to my cheeks, my head, no doubt as diseased as what I’d ingested only earlier today. As infected as myself.

I tip my head back, again reminded of the things we’d done in that secret room behind the throne, and all the things we hadn’t. He brings his mouth to the hollow of my throat, pushing me back into the office in the Court of Shadows that I’ve taken as my own. He pauses only to push the door closed.

The dizzying absence from his hands on my skin leaves as quickly as it arrives, as though it was aware of how soon it would be replaced with another, equally intoxicating feeling.

Since my time in Faerie, I have grown very good at pretending. Pretending that my muscles do not sing from the acute pain from the swinging of my sword, pretending that it didn’t hurt every time I’d been made an example of being something lesser. Pretending that I do not feel as I do, hiding even from myself. I am not sure I keep the longing off my face, but with his hands drifting down the tie of my breeches, nose deep in the crook of my neck, I am not sure it matters.

Perhaps desire is like mithridatism, where I should be taking doses slowly, accumulating my body to the poison until it affects me no longer. Perhaps my overindulgence here will kill me as surely as any sharp blade.

It isn’t until he sinks down onto his knees, pushing the backs of my legs to the edge of the desk, mouth drifting across my navel that I decide that I do not care.

Religion in Faerie is scarcely discussed, brought up only with the slandering of poor fates and cursed as surely as any gambling man might blame the hand. There might have been gods, once, but anything infinite in an immortal mind is just as easily forgotten. But he slides my breeches down to my knees with such piety, pushing my legs apart with such reverence that I’m sure one of us has found it.

Something flutters in my chest as he brings his mouth to my center, looking up at me through his dark lashes. Not as though I ought to be the one praying, but as though this is the prayer. As though any noise I might make would make for choir, would carry the cadence of a hymn. He looks at me as though he means to memorize it, this moment. The shape of my very skin.

His hands move methodically against me, into me. There is strategy here yet, and I refuse to concede. I will not concede.

This time, I do not let my hands shake.

I bring one hand to his hair and knot my fingers so deeply I am not sure they will ever be free. I am not sure I want them to be. His tongue brushes flat against me, but it is the heat of his breath against my bare thigh that is my undoing. He moans my name against my skin, whispering dirty things I'm certain he would not say if his goal wasn't to make me give in. I will not give in.

I lean back against the desk, putting my weight on my elbow. I’m half-aware of something being knocked to the floor when he sinks lower to bring one of my legs over his shoulder.

There is an awful kind of pleasure in being granted what you’ve so desperately wanted, even if you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t. It seems we are both good at making terrible decisions.

This deep underground, it is too dark for plants to grow. There are no windows to allow moonlight to skim in, pooling like milk against the scarce furniture that was undoubtedly stolen for the home of thieves. That does not stop vines from snaking their way up the walls, cloying around any surface they can find purchase on. Surely, deep down in their making, they must know they were doomed to die the moment they sprouted. There is nothing for them here. No light, no water. No chance for survival.

That is what I tell myself as Cardan’s other hand slips beneath my shirt to palm at my breast. That is what I tell myself as I let him. There is no chance for survival. There is no way I would have survived this, anyway.

Maybe I can still take him down with me.

His finery is disarranged as I pull against his hair, beckoning him to his feet as I yank him roughly overtop of me, laying myself flat against the desk, my hair spilling over the edge. He looks dissatisfied, as though he were a cat whose cream I’d just stolen for no other reason than to be cruel.

I am, I know. But not for this.

His lips are swollen when I bring them roughly to my own, tasting myself from his mouth. It is a stupor that fills my lungs, my brain, working its way into my blood that controls me. My volition is not my own. I do not think it has been for a long while.

My hands go to his breeches, toying with the lace in the front, but not untying it. I do not know much, enough that he is aware of, but not so little that I am completely unknowledgeable. I refuse to think of the way he looked up to me, his mouth against the softest parts of my skin, drawing sensitive shapes with his teeth, his tongue.

A flower I do not recognize springs from the ivy that unfolds above us, a deep blue that might have been purple in the sun, trumpeting from its stem on the vine. Its yellow-white center does not shy away from the darkness of the room around us.

I move my hands to undo the buttons of his shirt with as much slowness as I can manage with his mouth working delicious cruelties over a soft spot on my neck.

The room is overcome with blooming buds in the darkness. One of my hands drifts over a knot of scars at his back, and I realize that it is not despite the darkness that they crest so fully, so openly, that it is in spite of it. That, maybe there is a kind of bravery in being so honest. In knowing the risks of a poison, and taking the plunge anyway.

He pushes himself against me in a way that is somehow more intimate than when we were both bare. It is not unlike when the clouds part from a silvered sky, letting the moonlight drink in the land, the faelights crashing up into the stars and melding into the air. Somehow, the unbrokenness of this moment is what is visceral, is so guarded by its profoundness that it will know nothing else. I am certain that when I open my eyes, I will see stars.

I am filled with a hatred so hot it warms me from the inside out, so bright that I might never truly be cold.

I hate that he is the one that makes me feel this way, and that the statement alone is as much honesty I can bare, even to myself. I am a coward.

My thoughts are splintering under the guiding action of his fingers, and I realize his clever poison is not simply along the sweat of his skin or tucked in between stolen kisses. It is in his words, his breath, and it is in me, too. And now, I am not sure I will ever be able to escape it.

Masterlist

i don't think i've ever written a first-person tfota fic. anyway i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. enjoy, sluts and whores <3

Tag List:

@cutekawaiihentaiboobies @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @whoviantalibah @snusbandxknifewife @goddess-of-writing @storiesandschemes @thesirenwashere @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @andromeddea @clockworkgraystairs @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @the-chick-of-the-air @dorkzrul @sassylunars @justabunchoffandoms @queenofgreenbriar @fandomfanatic987 @df3ndyr @brittneyal @woodsbeyond1 @clouds-and-peonies @mis-lil-red @firestarsandseneschals @b00kworm @bisexual-bibliophile @greenbumblebee @danaanruhn @acciomanorian @ireallyshouldsleeprn @vanessa172003 @janeslandrys @potterpasties @nahthanks @ahdiejajdjsiaksudjjssj @queen-of-demons-and-hell @thefolkofthefic @myunfortunatenightmare @reneereadsstuff @lordoftermites @figonas @aftg-tcp-soc4402 @dumble-daddy @greenbriarxrose @shadowhuntingdemigod @pollyaunt @kittkatandbooboo @savagelysarcasticsilence @romantic-loverr @teenyweenynightghost @bookcide

#i don’t know what to say for myself. so i simply won’t #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #jurdan #tfota #the wicked king #the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #tcp #cardan #tfota fic #jurdan fic #jurdan smut #jurdanhellwrites

252 notes · View notes

zinniax · 4 months

Text

Nicasia slaps me in the face. I stumble, shocked, suddenly down on one knee, barely catching myself before I go sprawling. My cheek is hot, stinging.

My head rings.

"You can't do that," I say to her nonsensically.

I thought I understood how this game worked. I thought wrong.

"I may do whatever I wish," she informs me, still haughty.

Our classmates stare. Elga has one delicate hand over her mouth. Cardan looks over, and I can tell from his expression that she has failed to please him.

Embarrassment starts to creep over Nicasia's face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*Few pages later*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I overhear Nicasia ask Locke once, as he joins them for a lecture. "Cardan won't forgive you for what you're doing with her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just want to know what Cardan said or did to Nicasia for her to tell Locke he won’t forgive him for what he’s doing to jude. Mind you cardan knew Locke was playing with Taryn but Jude there’s a line.

Also I often wondered if Jude never tricked Cardan and they actually teamed up how he thought, would Cardan handle Locke the way he *possibly* did with Nicasia?

#the cruel prince #tfota series #jurdan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jude greenbriar

58 notes · View notes

clockworkbee · 2 years

Text

Let's talk more about Madoc respecting Jude as a Queen.

That's literally one of the best parts in the trilogy. See these lines from chapter 5 of tcp,

“I want to make my own way at the Court,” I say.

“You’re no killer,” he tells me. I flinch, my gaze coming up to his. He looks back at me steadily with his golden cat eyes.

“I could be,” I insist. “I’ve been training for a decade.”

Besides being a redcap who lived for war and dipped his cap in the blood of those he killed, Madoc expected a ruler to not be afraid of getting their hands dirty if they want to run a court, or make their own way at the court, that is.

Although we know Madoc kept taking Jude for granted, he appreciated the things he saw she was good at in twk,

“As I thought. I didn’t appreciate you properly. I dismissed your desire for knighthood. I dismissed your capacity for strategy, for strength—and for cruelty. That was my mistake, and one I will not make again.”

He did, indeed, underestimate his daughter but he saw those things necessary (presumably for someone running the court, even from behind the throne i.e. what Madoc aimed to do himself through Oak) And in qon,

“Enough blustering,” he says. “You’ve already won. Look.”

He takes me by the shoulders and turns me so that I can see where the great body of the serpent lies. A jolt of horror goes through me, and I try to wrench out of his grip. And then I notice the fighting has ebbed, the Folk are staring. From within the body of the creature emanates a glow.

And then, through that, Cardan steps out. Cardan, naked and covered in blood.

Alive.

Only out of his spilled blood can a great ruler rise.

And all around, people go to their knees. Grima Mog kneels. Lord Roiben kneels. Even those who moments before were intent on murder seem overcome. Nicasia looks on from the sea as all of Elfhame bows to the High King, restored and reborn.

“I will bend my head to you,” Madoc says to me under his breath. “And only you.”

It might seem that Madoc surrendered here because he's no fool and could see he'd lost but that's not all. Here, Madoc saw his daughter for who she really was, a Queen. A queen who made difficult decisions like beheading the love of her life because he's cursed instead of a child who tried to keep him in any way she could. Jude was everything Madoc thought a ruler should be, for instance, these lines he said to Cardan in qon,

Have you earned one single thing that you have? I have fought with those who follow me and bled with them. I have given my life to Elfhame.

That's something Madoc saw Jude do. She earned the loyalty of those she worked with. She fought with her people in the battle against Madoc and gave her life to Elfhame because it was her home.

He presses his mouth into a thin line. Then he bows his head. “Yes, my queen.”

No wonder he finally bowed to her. He didn't only accept his defeat, he accepted her as his Queen and respected her for it.

You’re the High Queen of Faerie. Whatever you did to get there, I can only applaud it.

ps: this post isn't necessarily to say that Madoc isn't planning getting back at Jude but only that by the end of Queen of Nothing, he accepted and respected her as the Queen.

#madoc redcap #jude and madoc #madoc #jude duarte #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #the folk of the air #tfota #holly black #tfota analysis

147 notes · View notes

unseeliiee · 2 months

Text

@helreginn’s Hel said: "𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦!"

———

Nothing would liberate Cardan from the faerie court or the machinations of his family. Not the prophecy that loomed over his head, not his father’s hatred, not even marriage. This, of course, included his brother Balekin’s control over his life - from his academic studies to his skills in combat to even his day-to-day court etiquette. Without a palace of his own and with his presence only tolerated at court, Cardan had simply taken his bride back to Hollow Hall following their ceremony, to live in his quarters there instead of his father’s palace under the hill.

He had yet to puzzle out just what his father had intended by wedding him to this woman. Perhaps he meant to be rid of him, but they had not been allowed to return to her home. It had not elevated his status, either. It would not turn into love and he doubted his father cared even a little about his happiness. The best he can come up with was that it had something to do with an old promise, unbreakable when spoken by the fae for they cannot lie. He was the consolation prize, the manipulation behind the vow, the worst possible way to fulfill the terms agreed upon. Though the idea had originally stung, he had given up on caring. It didn’t actually change his life beyond the fact that he shared his bed - or was supposed to - with Hel every night instead of whatever dryad, fae, or pixie was featured at court. It did not keep his gaze off the human girl - Jude Duarte, the general’s mortal daughter, a changeling of sort determined to prove she belonged here.

“Come now, Cardan,” Balekin taunts, a wicked smile playing at his lips as he brandishes his blade before him. Cardan held one that nearly matched his brother’s except perhaps not quite as extravagantly decorated. No matter how much Cardan was given, his siblings always got more. “Are you truly looking to make such a fool of yourself in front of your new bride? No wonder she seems…less than enthused.”

Cardan scowls, dark eyes growing even darker, and lunges forward but his skill with a blade was obviously lacking despite all his years of training. Balekin parries easily and with a few swift blows, knocks his younger brother to the ground. The point of his sword finds Cardan’s throat but the prince only swallows hard and bats it away.

“Surely, this is enough for today,” he says, but the older shakes his head, motioning for one of the servants.

“Your lack of improvement disappoints, Cardan,” he says. “I don’t know how many more times we must go through this before you begin to learn.”

The servant leaves only to return a few moments later with a long leather whip. Cardan’s muscles pull taut, limbs stilling, but he holds his brother’s gaze a moment more before it finally dips, subservient and self-loathing.

“Come now, on your knees,” he says and Cardan has no choice but to obey, shrugging off a rather masterfully made doublet. But before the whip can strike, a voice cuts through the otherwise empty library, sharp and commanding in a way that halts even Balekin.

All eyes turn towards Hel, shocked by her outburst and the seriousness in her gaze. Despite the threat, Balekin laughs.

“How endearingly fearless! And who do you think you might be to threaten me, sister?”

#🥀 • threads | cardan & hel •#🥀 • verse | the unwanted bride •#🥀 • interactions | helreginn •

2 notes · View notes

dietmountaindewb8by · 2 years

Text

You Would Have to Stay

dark cardan greenbriar x reader

hi! this account is made specifically for darker content, and that’s where i went with this, so i just threw it in here; i hope you love it!!

warnings: THIS IS DARK SHIT PEOPLE DON’T READ IT (graphic physical abuse before cardan became obsessed and a possessive and shit)

@waywardsummoner46 asked:YOU TAKE REQUESTS FOR CARDAN??????? You are now one of my favourite people and I hope you’re having a brilliant day. My request for him would be kind of dark if you don’t mind where, like Jude, the reader is a human in Faerie land and is quite strong willed. As a consequence, Cardan finds it quite amusing getting to cry, shout or any negative outburst in retaliation to things he does (when they were children). But as they grow up he begins to fall in “love” with her but he realised that she absolutely despises him and would never love him back. So he takes it upon himself to either trick her into eat no that fruit that Jude had in the first book that made her all dopey and obedient - but without the dopey part - or he uses some sort of hypnotising magic on her. Thank you in advance and don’t worry if you can’t get around to it! Take care.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He loathed you. Absolutely loathed you.

Your smile, your stupid laugh, that little smirk you had painted on your face whenever you gave the correct answer, making even the fae shake. He loathed it, ever since you first came to Elfhame.

You didn’t belong here, you never did and you never will.

He took it upon himself to make sure you knew that.

~*~

Your breath was stolen from your lungs once more, his foot on your chest, back pressed against the ground.

“Mortal,” he sneered, looking down his nose at your scared form.

“Prince Cardan-” you forced out, beginning to quake.

“And how was your day?” he asked you, pushing down harder. If he pushed any more he’d break your bone, and you knew he’d do it too. He’s never had a problem with it before.

You didn’t respond, so he pressed down harder. “Good- good, my day was good.”

“Aren’t you going to ask your prince how his day was?”

“It’s only polite,” Nicasia crooned, looking down at you as well, hands placing themselves over Cardan’s shoulders.

“How was your day, Cardan?” you stuttered, avoiding his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he hissed. He wasn’t playing with you anymore. This was it. “But I just have one problem. Won’t you ask me what that is, Mortal?”

You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. “What’s the problem, Cardan?”

“Your response to my question, Mortal. That’s my problem. So, do you know what I’m going to do?”

He was going to do something you’d hate, that’s for sure. His foot came off of your chest and his hand took your jaw into its grasp. Your face was brought up to his.

His other hand took your right hand and squeezed.

He was never afraid of breaking bone, and he never shied away from any excuse to make you scream in agony.

~*~

He loathed you, but what he loathed more was the fact that he had begun to feel panic.

He had begun to feel panic the second you stopped breathing and your knees gave way. The only thing that was holding you up was his hand around your throat.

Nicasia, Valerian and Locke laughing behind him blurred as he looked down at what he had done. You were limp, your breathing pattern broken and your purple features turning their original color slowly.

He didn’t know why he scooped you into his arms and brought you home, leaving you unconscious on your doorstep. He didn’t know why. And he didn’t know why he lingered, staring at your face.

~*~

He saw Locke crowding you into a corner. Maybe it was his drunken state, but he felt angrier than he usually did seeing your face.

His eyes flicked to Locke.

Then he realized it.

This was unacceptable. He couldn’t touch you.

He thought about it more.

Nicasia couldn’t touch you, neither could Valerian.

He saw Locke's fist come down onto your eye, your head immediately whipping to the side. His anger flared more, but he did nothing but stare, painting a sickening smile onto his features.

He would make Locke pay. If not for you than for himself.

~*~

He didn’t know why he knocked on your window, proceeding to make his way inside, waiting on your bed with materials to help your eye.

He liked your room, he realized, picking up a book of yours.

Alice in Wonderland.

He pocketed it.

You suddenly came through the door, laughing at whatever the person on the outside said. Your smile was contagious, he would admit later, and he had to fight hard to keep a smile off of his face when you walked into the room.

But that smile fell when you saw him.

Why?

You were supposed to adore him, as the rest of Elfhame did. You were supposed to kneel, look at him in nothing but awe and fear.

And he was supposed to look at you with disdain, relishing in your tears. And he did, for a time. But why was he here then, angered by the bruise under your eye?

“Sit, Mortal,” he demanded, and you did, but not before muttering out the question he knew you’d ask: “What are you doing here?” And he couldn’t answer that question.

He didn’t like that.

“It’s none of your concern, Mortal. Now sit down.”

~*~

Your bruise was gone the next day, as was his abuse toward you, though he continued to make appearances.

He’d be nearer to you during school. He’d corner you when you left and ask you if you were faring well, or if you had drank water or eaten.

But you still hated him.

And he saw that.

And he hated that you hated him almost as much as he loved you.

He loved you, he realized. He cared about your well being; he cared that people were touching you. Hurting you.

No one got to hurt you, not even him, and you had to see that.

~*~

He had begun the process of wooing you. It wasn’t working; if anything, it only succeeded in scaring you away more.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” you’d screamed at him one night. He flinched away. No. He couldn’t leave you alone. He loved you, and you… you would. He’d spend the rest of his life giving you anything and everything you wanted. You… you would love him if it was the last thing he’d succeed in doing.

“I can’t, (Y/N) darling.”

~*~

He was going to try and talk to you that night. You’d evaded him earlier, but tonight was the night.

“I’m nearly eighteen,” he heard you giggle. “I won’t have to stay here much longer; the mortal world has billions of things waiting for me- egg salad sandwiches, sweaters, and who knows what else?”

No.

No, absolutely not. He was your prince and you wouldn’t leave if he didn’t let you.

But he had no power in that decision, did he?

But if he were king… if he were king he could, couldn’t he? He could make you his queen, binding you by responsibility. He could keep you, and you could rule and punish all those who hurt you.

It would be a win win.

He’d just have to steal the crown before you left.

~*~

He was just in time.

He was twelve hours short of losing.

Thank god you’d eaten the fruit that he’d left for you on the table, a little pre-birthday celebration. You were completely out of it and where you should be: in the castle.

You would snap out of it and find yourself tied to Elfhame, to him, but would that matter in the end?

He’d give you anything and everything you could ever want.

But you would have to stay.

#cardan greenbriar #cardan greenbriar x reader #cardan greenbriar x you #cardan x reader #cardan x you #tcp x reader #tcp #tcp x you #the cruel prince #the cruel prince x reader #tfota #the folk of the air #dark cardan #dark cardan greenbriar #dark cardan x reader #dark cardan x you

555 notes · View notes

elephart-hi · 3 years

Text

Worthy of a Queen | Jurdan Canon Compliant AU

AU: Jude decided to take Cardan in small doses during The Wicked King. Lovers AU

Summary: Jude was a fool for try to best Cardan here. She may be a cunning spy and a swords master but the bedroom and lovemaking was his domain.

~~~

“Shall we continue?” he asked in a voice of innocence that certainly seemed akin to lying with how far innocence was from his intentions.

Jude had underestimated Cardan. She got her prize, she had won the battle, but he was going to win the war. With that miserable thought in mind and her pride boiling with anger she spat out her response, “fuck you.”

Cardan’s chuckle was dark and dangerous as he said, “with pleasure.”

Rating: M is for mature and mad filthy (but ends sweetly) (I try to trick ya in the beginning bare with it)

AN: This is my first ever fic!!!! And of course, it's Jurdan and of course, it's smut. No one is surprised. Shout out to Amber and Hannah for being my beta readers and convincing me to post this. And shout out to @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 who's beautiful writing made me go fuck it and sit down and write something myself which I've always wanted to do, so thank you keep being wonderful.

Please let me know what y'all think! I have ideas for a whole fic for this so if you want that tell me.

Inspired by these sketches and this

set during the Wicked King

warnings: hair pulling, spanking, and light bondage

AO3

As she lay sprawled out on her hands and knees, dirty, sweaty, and out of breath, it was clear to Jude Duerte that pride was her hamartia. She could have everything that she needed if she would only concede but stubbornly she refused to. Her pride wouldn't allow it, no matter how desperate she was.

Instead of the glory, she assumed she would achieve that night she lay there pathetically at his mercy. Something she deeply detested. She detested it almost as much as the smirk she could practically hear on his full lips as an infuriatingly cocky laugh rumbled out from deep in his throat. A laugh that had her toes curling and her seeing red and seething. Just as most things that came from his lips did.

Jude gritted her teeth together as she futilely attempted once more to get him to relent but the ironclad grip on her hair did not loosen and she was met with another rumble of laughter followed by a resonating smack of skin against skin. Her cheek stung from the impact and the slap made her burn red hot. The blow would surely bruise.

She hated him for this. Absolutely loathed him for it. She could easily beat him in a fight, have him on his back with a knife to his throat in less than ten seconds if she wanted. He knew that as much as she did. He probably relished in the knowledge of it, of having her here like this when she could easily best him. But she couldn’t now. Not if she wanted what she came for. Tonight her only option of getting what she needed would be to play nice. Something she was not fond of nor good at. Something that she absolutely did not want to do. Jude wanted nothing more than to make him see red as she did at that moment.

In her anger and frustration, Jude let his name snarled from her lips, “Enough of your stupid games Cardan” she nearly spat the last syllable out.

She was met with another slap, its impact sent her reeling with a groan slipping from her mouth. She hated to give away that his blow affected her at all; that groan was a loss for her. He hummed at the sound she made. Satisfied that her patience was running thin. Happy that he was getting to her. He knew he was winning. He gripped her hair tighter, tugging her head back and her lips pulled into a sneer. She could hear that fucking smirk again as he murmured into her ear with the buttery voice of a lover, “What games do you speak of my darling Jude?”

She struggled again but to no avail. The ‘my darling’ getting to her just like he knew it would. Oh, it made her burn. “You know what I’m speaking of!”

All that he smugly replied with was “Do I?” a small quip from his devastating lips.

She knew he was toying with her. Responding with questions to avoid having to speak in truths. A common trick of the fae used to deceive those around them. But Jude was having none of it.

“Give me what I want, Cardan!” it was a vicious snarl from her lips. He stilled completely at it and she knew it had been a mistake to let her temper fly. She knew he would only give her what she craved if she played by his rules and losing this prize was not an option for her. She couldn’t afford it. Jude was absolutely desperate.

He leaned in close to her ear once more and in a hushed whisper that sent a shiver, not unlike a premonition, down her spine and said, “all you have to do is ask Jude. But make it pretty, befitting of the king of fairy,” his words were an infuriating echo of what he had said to her not so long ago at the summer tournament after she had bested him in the war games. He had gripped her hair like this then too. But Jude doubted she would best him tonight.

She hated it. She hated him for this.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat at him. He gripped her hair painfully tight this time and slapped her ass harder than he had before. The combination left a series of moans spilling out of her.

He drank up her cries like it was the fine wine they had drunk from the bottle which sat empty next to their dinner on the discarded tray situated on his bed next to them. The gaudy fabric of the comforter cushioned both of their knees, his tucked under and between hers, forcing her legs to be spread wide for him.

“But then I’d have to stop fucking you, my sweet nightmare. And I know neither one of us would want that” he looked down to where he was buried to the hilt in her, still and unmoving. His free hand massaging her red and sore butt cheeks that were bruising from his earlier abuse.

“Especially not after you were dressed up so divinely for me tonight. That dress was just begging to come off wasn’t it?” He hummed as his free hand went from massaging her sore bum to teasing her right above the nub between her thighs. So close to where she desperately needed him to be but giving her no reprieve and only making her more desperate. Jude bit her lip, refusing to respond, her stubbornness digging its heels in, so Cardan continued on.

“I could tell how wound up you were when you showed up here. With a pretty blush already on your breasts and the sweet scent of your arousal coming from your skirts with every step you took towards me.” The dress in question laid discarded on the floor beside his own clothes. It had been raven-black to match his hair, hugged her curves and muscles like a second skin, and was dangerously low cut. Definitely not her usual attire, definitely wasn't subtle Jude realized with embarrassment. Both of their wardrobes had been removed in haste not far into their dinner. The buttons of Cardan’s ridiculous blouse scattered the tiles beneath the bed, having been ripped from the fabric as Jude rushed to undress him in her lustful frenzy.

“So unusually kind of you to bring dinner and wine for me, to ask to eat in my company. I know it was all just an act to get me to fuck you, Jude. The least you could do for me is beg for it,” he whispered dangerously, his voice thick with his arousal.

Jude flushed again, this time in shame from his words. That he truly thought it out of her character to be kind. It was true of course. Jude wasn’t a very kind person, not after what she had lived through. But for some reason that was beyond her, she wanted him to think highly of her. She wanted him to think she was kind. And most bizarre of all, she wanted to be kind to him. Perhaps fairyland was driving her mortal mind mad after all.

“It wasn’t just to get you to bed me Cardan,” Jude answered ashamed of how breathy it came out, ashamed of what she was about to say, “I did want to enjoy your company tonight. I brought you dinner and wine because I thought it would make you happy.”

Jude would be damned before she begged him or anyone for anything. But if he wanted sweet words from her she would give it to him at this point. His free hands had moved upwards from tracing around her clit and had gone to circle her breasts. From time to time he would give them a brutal squeeze. More taunting but no release. Jude was a bundle of nerves wound up painfully tight. She needed her prize and she would be getting it if it was the last thing she did. She just wouldn’t beg for it.

To her surprise, he landed another searing smack to her backside sending her sliding forward and had him pulling her back onto his cock by her hair. Jude’s toes curled on the mattress, more moans spilling from her lips. She was beyond keeping them in at this point, the wine they had drunk making her dizzy, or perhaps it was just him doing that. The lust fogged her brain more than the alcohol did. She tried to slide forward again so she could push back onto his delicious length, rock hard and throbbing within her, but he held her hair tight, keeping her in place. Still no release in sight.

“Dirty mortal liar” Cardan spat at her, not believing her wishes to make him happy. Landing another brutal blow on her bum. Cardan had confessed to Jude in the court of shadows that he was no killer, but that didn’t take away from his cruel nature. He wasn't being gentle with her. Jude didn’t want him to be.

The spanking was a mercy compared to the torture he had been forcing her to endure. The sharp slaps gave her friction and reprieve from his cold refusal to please her in the ways she craved. And now because of her earlier outbursts, he remained buried in her gut unmoving and wouldn't move an inch till she begged him to. Before at least he had been in motion albeit it being painfully slow. Sliding in and out of her aching core, still slick and throbbing from his earlier ministrations with his mouth. He had spent longer feasting on her than he had on his meal, now cold and forgotten. He had tortured her with his tongue, bringing her to the edge of precipice but never allowing her to tumble over the peak into blissful oblivion.

She thought he would finally give her release when he slid his gloriously thick length inside of her but still he only taunted her. Slowly he would slide in and out of her, mocking her with what she was desperate for. He would pull out to his tip, her hair locked in his ringed hand keeping her in place while he eased back into her wetness at a punishingly slow pace. All the while knowing she was desperate for more. Each strike to her ass had been a godsend, pumping red hot arousal to her system while his little endearments, ‘my Jude’, ‘my sweet nightmare’ spurred her on. Cardan knew she secretly loved to hear them. Knew she loved hearing him call her ‘his’. Knew it made her think of all the things he could do to claim her as his; with his hands, mouth, and cock.

But they were far too alike the two of them, Cardan as prideful and stubborn as she. Jude could feel him pulsing inside her. A pounding throb in time with his heartbeat. She knew it had to be painful at this point, he was torturing himself as much as he was her. But that was part of the thrill for him. He loved the powerplay, loved toying. He wanted to come out on top; Jude couldn’t let him.

“I may be a liar Cardan but I didn’t just then. I want to make you happy.” Jude was panting as she spoke. She would never live this down. She couldn’t bring herself to care though. It was the truth. She wanted it as much as she wanted him at that moment. She hadn’t been able to rid herself of the guilt of tricking him into the crown and chaining him to the throne as well as her command. She wanted to see a smile on his face rather than the sneer that lived there most days, as breathtaking as he was with either. Jude wanted Cardan to be happy and she wanted to be the one to make him feel that way. Especially after she was the source of his misery. Although it wasn’t as though he hadn’t been the source for much of hers in the past. That alone was the only thing that kept her from begging him to give her what she so desired. That she was horny enough to even consider begging him, if he was deserving of it, was something she didn't want to think too much about.

“If you wanted to make me happy Jude,” he said her name like a curse, his frustration with her stubbornness evident, ”you would beg for me.”

She felt a ghost of a touch tickle against her arm then flee away an instant later. She peeked down as much as she could with Cardan pulling her head back like he was. Below, his tail was coiling and uncoiling. Whipping back and forth sporadically. Like a cat’s would while it attacked its prey. Before, he had the laziness of a cat who had caught a mouse; a cat that was toying its food before devouring it. Now he was agitated and ready to strike. Jude could use that.

At her refusal to respond to him Cardan tisked and lamented “well if you have nothing to ask of me, my goddess of death, then I suppose we are done here.”

He started to pull out of her as though he meant to leave her there as a panting, aching, mess with no release in sight. Her prize to be lost. She felt his tail whisper next to her arm again, just as he slid his tip out, and with the desperation of a mouse fleeing its captor, Jude latched onto his tail and ripped him back, slamming his raging length deep into her. Hard. The cross between a groan and a whimper that escaped from his lips, and the toe-curling feeling of him slamming into her made her mad with desperation and giddy with power. Jude wasn't the mouse anymore. She was a lioness; she was going to feed.

“You’ll do well to remember who put that crown on your head, My King. Begging is out of the question and will be until you are worthy of it,” she purred at him. “As your sechel, I’d advise you to please me and do it well. But, and more importantly,” she said as sweet as the fruit of the everapple tree, “As the Queen of Shadows and master of your fate I demand you do it,” she finished with a smirk, using the word ‘demand’ instead of ‘command’, so there was no true magical power over him to do so.

“And Cardan,” She said glancing over her shoulder, his grip on her hair had gone slack enough for her to do so from his shock at her actions and words, “Do make it worthy of a Queen.”

Her bravo started to wear off as the giddiness faded. It was in that moment, staring into the Achingly beautiful face of the High King, whose midnight black orbs burned like fire threatening to consume her that Jude realized her mistake. From the look of the wickedly sinister grin on his sinful lips, Jude knew would be getting her prize after all… and then some. Cardan had been playing nice until now, in hopes she would be nice in turn to him. Now that he knew there would be no such thing he was more than willing to unleash himself on her relentlessly.

What a fool she had been to forget one of the first rules of fairyland: Be careful what you wish for.

Jude would be lucky to be able to sit down or move for the next week without being sore if their last row together was any indication of how the rest of the evening would play out.

Cardan’s grip on her hair tightened again and used his free hand to trace a single finger up the curve of her spine, sending goosebumps flying in its wake. He pulled her up against his chest by her hair. Her head resting on his shoulder now, breasts pushed out to the world and peeking from the chill in the room brought on by his change in mood. Being the High King gave Cardan control over the weather and such things; no more nice Cardan who gave her sweet endearment, this was the Cardan she was most familiar with, his face the picture of icy rage.

Her breath plumed in clouds from the frigid temperature and ruffled the raven black hair sticking to the sweat on his brow. She shivered from the cold. He was so devastatingly beautiful like this it made her head spin. The sneer on his face made her toes curl knowing she was the one who had put it there.

His voice was murderous as he murmured, “Give me back my tail.”

Her grip on the thing tightened as it tried to lash out of her grip. His tone only stoked the fire burning in her gut, the heat fighting the chill of the room.

She felt the giddiness bubble up in her again, the same feeling of fear mixed with excitement that she got when she taunted him at school. The feeling of taking a dare.

“Fuck me like you were told princeling and perhaps I will,” she referred to him by the same mocking title his late siblings would call him by, all of them being more than a hundred years his senior and already have established roles in the kingdom, while he was hardly 19 and had still been in school with no real power. She was deliberately placing him beneath her by calling herself a queen and him only a boy prince, despite him being two years her senior. She felt the smugness tugging her lips when she heard his breath come out ragged and slow. He was going to great lengths to keep his temper in check, still not wanting to let her win. But Jude could taste her victory, her toes curled and her gut tingled with sharp electricity boiling there. An almost hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat, knowing that her next words would send him over the edge.

“Or perhaps you don’t know how to please a woman, hmmm?? Were all those ballads about you being a good lover just pixie dust in the breeze? Maybe the musicians of the court were just flattering you so that the fine people of fairy would think that you were actually good for something.”

It was an obvious lie and they both knew it, Cardan has had her screaming his name, soaking the sheets, and has made her a blubbering mess, nothing more than putty in his arms, much to her own shame. But the lie was an insult to his manhood nonetheless. He would have to fuck her senseless now, his honor and pride would demand it.

His grip on her hair tightened as the room rapidly started to heat back up, getting hotter by the second. Cardan was pissed now. He used his free hand to trace the curves of her body following his hand with his deadly stare. He took in every inch of her, from the blush on her cheeks that burned so bright it went straight down her neck and chest and spotted across her full breasts which were heavy and aching from her arousal. He took in Jude’s toned stomach and muscular thighs appraising them as though they were one of the powders he frequently took as though he hadn't had a dose in far too long and was itching for it. There was a furious hunger in that gaze. The stare of a recovering alcoholic glaring at the bottle before he dived to the bottom of it. Furious for even wanting it, furious for going back to it, furious for having said no to it for so long when it felt so right. He was going to give into Jude even if she didn’t beg him for it. He was pissed about it.

His tracing hand slowly inched towards the numb of nerves between Jude’s thighs, her hair tugged back on his shoulder allowed him to hear the airy sigh that befell her lips, tickling his hair. Her airy moan sounded like one someone would heave when they stepped into a steaming bath after a long day of hard work, easing their aching muscles. That wouldn't do at all. There would be no easing for her. If she wanted to step in that tub then Cardan was going to shove her in and force her head under the water and keep it there till she was thrashing for air. If she wouldn't beg him to start, then she would have to beg him to stop.

Cardan leaned in and whispered to her ear, using all of his willpower to keep his temper in check, “Fitting for a Queen you said hmm,” the words sent shivers running down her spine, had her walls clenching around his cock that was still buried in her, to her great dismay still not in motion.

Cardan paused to take a breath and for a moment the whole room stilled as though his magic had quieted the very air around them, as if the whole kingdom was tingling in anticipation, silently waiting to see what happened next. Even the roaring fire that was crackling in its hearth just seconds prior didn’t dare to make a sound, lest it invokes the wrath of the wicked king. The only noise was Jude’s ragged breathing in eerie contrast.

Cardan’s words eased out in his exhale, resembling the sickening woop in the stomach one gets when falling from large heights, “How's this for fitting?”

Jude’s eyes were blown wide and then forced tightly shut as he unleashed himself onto her. The sounds of the room roaring back to life around them were completely lost to her as the brutally aching bliss filled her to the brim. The sensations were overpowering her, overwhelming her senses after being denied it for so long. The feeling of his length filling her to the brim combined with his sinful hands, one tugging her hair the other rubbing her nub; It was too much. Cardan’s hand was brutal in its attack on her clit, rubbing her relentlessly right where she wanted it, just the way she liked it.

The act alone was more than enough and already toying her towards the edge of release. Cardan knew Jude’s body far too well. He had spent plenty of time tracking all her tells, tracking every breath she took while she lay beneath him from the first moment she welcomed him into her bed. His dark hungry eyes always locked on her taking everything in. Cardan was a fantastic lover not just because he knew how to please any woman who passed his way, but because he went to lengths to perfect his craft for those who stayed.

Jude realized with no little shame that he had been saying something to her but she had missed it because of the roaring in her ear. Her cheeks went impossibly pinker when she realized it hadn't been roaring, but her own moaning. She hadn't even realized she was doing it so overcome by her arousal after being denied all night. She glanced up at him and all she could stupidly say was, “huh?”

He barked a laugh, his head thrown back; he loved making her like this. Knocking Ms. Know-it-all off her pedestal, making her dumb-founded and drooling. Such a sharp contrast to her usual stoic demeanor. He leaned down close to her face, slowly licked up the dribble of spit hanging from the corner of her mouth. Then with a wicked smirk on his sinful face, one that promised nothing but trouble, he went to her ear and snickered, “you’re as soaked for me as you were when I shoved you into that river mortal.”

As he said it he rubbed her just so, sending her shuddering relentlessly into an orgasm around his unmoving cock. The orgasm shattered her mind and made her see white, then instantly red from the fury his word sent her into. She hated that he made her come while he said that. Knew he had done it on purpose to piss her off. Knew it was the damning truth since no lie could fall from his fairy lips. Bliss, anger, and shame all swelled within her swirling together and muddling her mind in ways fairy fruit never could. Jude felt as though she might fade into the very magic of fairyland at that moment for surely if one could be magic itself, this would be how they always felt.

Jude couldn’t even get a word in back at him for what he said because he slammed his mouth against hers before she could recover enough to form a coherent sentence; licking and drinking up her moans like it was his only purpose in life. His other hand moved from restraining her hair and wrapped around her middle, pinning the arm holding his tail to her side in an ironclad hold and pinning her body against chest; his hand reaching up to attack her breasts. Switching back and forth between one and the other, he would alternate massaging and pinching her nipples with painful precision. His other hand was still working her clit sending her rolling from one orgasm into the next. The combination of it all was so overwhelming she cried out into his mouth as she squirted all over his hands, soaking their legs and the sheets beneath them. Jude was awash with shame and bliss, leaning her full weight on him to remain upright. He hadn’t even begun to fuck her properly yet, Cardan was still buried within her throbbing painfully from denying himself and she was already a stupid mess in his arms. The shit-eating smirk on his face told her that he was thinking the same thing.

Jude was a fool for try to best Cardan here. She may be a cunning spy and a swords master but the bedroom and lovemaking was his domain. Her legs quivered beneath her, hands limp at her side. Cardan released his hold on her, sending her falling ungracefully forward onto her chest and face. He laughed at her mockingly, “and now the sheets are nearly as soaked as your clothes were that day.”

Jude’s blood boiled and she wanted to turn around and slap him. But as she went to move she found herself unable to. While she hadn’t been looking, brain hazy from her orgasms, the roots from the tree atop the hill had curled their way down the bedposts and snaked their way across the sheets wrapping around her wrists binding her in place. Another display of his kingly magic. Jude tried to figure where she went wrong, one moment she was the one with power and now here she was again, completely at his mercy and more so than before. The answer to her question flicked back and forth in the periphery of her vision, his tail moving again like a lazy cat playing a game it knew it was going to win. He had made her come so hard she completely lost her senses and touched the stars and managed to release her one and only advantage.

“Thank you for returning my tail to me sweet Jude,” he said, noting her coming to this realization. His hand returned to her hair pulling her head back as much as he could while her hands were bound. He shifted, leaning forward shifting his body causing his cock to finally move within her once more; it was enough to make her lose a breathy moan. Oh! The frustration she felt with herself! She was a fool for him and it was humiliating. His other hand went back to massaging her bruised bum as he chuckled darkly behind her.

“Shall we continue?” he asked in a voice of innocence that certainly seemed akin to lying with how far innocence was from his intentions. Jude was still miserably horny, and not even the two earth-shattering orgasms he had given her were able to satiate her need after all the torture he had put her through earlier. She craved him desperately but her wounded pride couldn't bear to ask him to go on. She tried to shift her bum against his length again, the same attempts she had earlier, knowing it was just as futile now as it had been before. He laughed at her, slamming his palm hard against her ass just as he had done each time before.

“Excuse me, your majesty,” he purred, mocking her for calling herself a queen while pumping into her once, twice. Teasing her, making her nails dig into the bound palms of her hands in ecstasy, “I believe I asked you a question, my queen.”

Another endearment. Him calling her his. His queen. She squirmed again, willing him to please her but he held fast.

“Last chance Jude,” he murmured in her ear, leaning all the way forward so his cocked filled her completely, “Beg for mercy and I’ll give it to you,” the smirk was as present as ever in his infuriatingly sexy voice.

Cardan’s chuckle was dark and dangerous as he said, “with pleasure.”

He slammed into her unrelenting: brutal and hard. Jude was going to have to skip training tomorrow because of this, her body would be too sore. She hated missing training and it made her furious at him. Perhaps she just liked being made at him, she thought as he hit her spot over and over again making her see spots. She went to bury her moans and cries in the covers, still damp beneath them from when she squirted, but he pulled her hair back forcing her to cry out into the room for him to hear.

“Moan for me Queen Jude,” he gruffed out viciously, riled up and ravenous after having to wait so long himself to have her, “let me hear how worthy this fucking is of you hmm.. this is what you wanted wasn't it? A good fucking? It's what you came here for.”

He was relentless, Jude was biting her lip trying hard to not give him what he wanted. The wet sloppy sound of their bodies joining together echoed in the room in time with the slapping of his pelvis against her ass. It was debauched to hear how sinfully wet she was for him, the wet slapping making it painfully evident just how ‘worthy’ his fucking was. She groaned through her teeth and he yanked her hair hard forcing her mouth open. Her moans came spilling out, pitching each time he thrust his body into hers.

Cardan was groaning with her now. He was getting close if his sporadic thrusts were any indicator. The knowledge that he was getting off to her made her walls clench around him and her toes curl in pleasure, forcing a groan from deep in his throat to spill out. It was otherworldly, doing this with him, so many emotions, sensations, and feelings all swirling together in a messy lustful haze that left them rutting like savage dogs by the end of the night. They hated each other, didn't they? How could they keep coming back to each other like this? Why did this feel so right?

He pulled her hair back hard making her back bend almost painfully towards him, her wrists straining against the vines that bound her; training was definitely out of the question this week. She could see his face now, brows pinched, eyes dark, sweat dripping off of him while his mouth hung open. He was devastatingly gorgeous like this. He leaned down and kissed her as he landed three sharp blows to her ass with his other hand as he pounded into her relentlessly. She squirted again seeing stars as another orgasm ran through her. He smiled a brilliant smile down at her for it. So beautiful that she all but forgot her pride existed as she said breathily, “I didn’t come here just to fuck you Cardan, I swear it,” blush burning her cheeks at her confession, “I wanted to make you happy.”

She felt emotions shining on her face, ones she always buried but she didn’t mind it. Jude was mad with pleasure, drunk on his kiss, his scent, and sensations. Jude was drunk on him. Caution was lost to her.

Cardan’s eyes went wide at her words and he released her hair suddenly. A swear was a serious thing in Fairy especially one made to the high king. The vines receded from restraining her and he unsheathed himself from her aching core. She was met with a jolt of horror at what she had done, what she had said, in fear that she had upset him.

The panic was quickly replaced by confusion as he rolled her onto her back with tender hands and then leaned above her positioning himself between her legs with one arm bracing beside her head while his other hand came up to tenderly caressing her cheek. His cock was positioned right before her entrance, leaking with precum. He clearly had stopped right before his climax. What on earth compelled him to do such a thing?

“Is that the truth?” he said in a breathy whisper, chest still heaving from their wild fuckings, still trying to catch his breath.

All Jude could manage was a small nod.

His eyes searched hers, looking for something. Jude didn’t know if he found what he was looking for but after a moment he slowly slid into her again staring into her eyes. She wanted to look away, his gaze was too much as he slowly and sweetly slid their bodies together, again and again. He was being tender with not a rush in the world. A different kind of fire started building within her. Instead of a burning inferno like earlier, this one was the slow-burning of water set to boil. His dark gaze was searching, consuming. His beautiful face slack in awe as he looked at her.

“Beautiful,” he murmured like wonder spilling out of him. Jude snapped her eyes shut to it, to what she felt. She felt naked for the first time today despite having been freed of her clothing for the better part of two hours now. The way he was holding her, the way their bodies slid together, it terrified her, the emotions it stirred up. He cooed at her then, fingers caressing her cheek, “Jude,” he said sweetly, “look at me Jude, it's okay.”

She scrunched her eyes shut further at his words. He stilled, pulling away from her. He heaved a sigh, that sounded so much like hurt and disappointment. Quickly, shyly her hand reached out to the ringed one on her cheek just as it went to pull away. Softly Jude said, “Please-- Please don’t stop.”

Jude mustered all the courage she had, reached into the well of fearlessness she had obtained from living in fairyland, and opened her eyes. Dark pools the color of midnight stared back at her, full of swimming emotion. It was overwhelming, confusing. She wished she knew what he was thinking, wished she knew if this meant something. There was so much fear in her and she knew he could see it all on her face. She was so scared of this, “Please Cardan, keep going. Please. I-- I beg you.”

The smile that graced his shocked face was beautiful and hesitant like the one someone might make if they thought something was too good to be true. She shocked herself with the plea, she had never thought she could long for someone the way that she did at that moment. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She peeked to his tail in hope of gaining some insight, but it was wrapped around her calf, the furred tip seemed to be caressing her. She looked back up at him. Cardan was smirking, but it wasn't mocking, it seemed… endearing almost. But that couldn’t be. He clearly knew why Jude looked at his tail, knowing she liked keeping an eye on it because it made him easier to read. The crinkles beneath his eyes gave away happiness and his smirk tugged into a dazzling smile.

Jude’s heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. He ran his hand down from her cheek to her chest, feeling how fast it was pounding. His smile only grew, as he leaned down and nuzzled his nose against hers. Jude let loose a breath she didn't know she had been holding, it came spilling out of her like an airy laugh, her lashes fluttering at his closeness. He was being so sweet, it threw her off guard. She peeked into his eyes once more, she didn't really know what she was looking for in them. But she knew what she did not find there: his arrogance, his cruelty, and his wickedness.

There in his dark eyes, she saw something she didn't understand yet. Saw something shining there that she knew reflected back in her own. Confusion mingled with an emotion she had never known before. She realized she didn't understand a lot of things, about life, fairyland, and him. From the look in his eyes, she realized she didn't need to understand everything. And with that realization, she wasn't afraid anymore. She peered into his eyes unabashedly now, Belkin’s words from in the Isle of the Forgotten rang in her head:

“to mortals, the feeling of falling in love is similar to the feeling of fear.”

But what do mortals feel when they stop falling. What happens when they were wholly in love.

Jude didn’t know, and she didn’t care to know. She didn’t need to understand everything, she didn’t need to understand what she felt. She needed to just feel it.

If nothing else, Jude felt safe here in Cardan’s arms. A feeling that she had long grown unaccustomed to thanks to the cruelty of her life. She looked at the man before her, so similar to yet so strikingly different from the boy he was under Belkin’s thumb. This was a man who she wanted to make happy. And despite his uncanny ability to frustrate her, he had the uncanny ability to make her happy as well. He made her forget her pride and she made him forget his own. Neither caring who came out on top anymore. Maybe it was just the sex, maybe it was something more. She didn’t know and somehow that was fine.

With those thoughts singing in her head, Jude Duerte leaned up and kissed Cardan Greenbriar soft and slow, allowing all the things she kept buried within her to come pouring out. Allowing all the things she didn’t understand to pour out with it because perhaps Cardan didn’t understand it either. Perhaps they could learn to understand it together.

So that night, Jude waved the white flag and she made love to the King of Fairy.

341 notes · View notes

court-of-forever-undone · 3 years

Text

I Knew You’d Come Back to Me

Chapter Two: Slept next to her, but I dreamt of you (Cardan’s POV)

Summary: While homesick and heartbroken in the mortal world, Jude finds a pile of letters on her doorstep that include an official pardon and a love confession from Cardan. What is supposed to be a happy reunion quickly falls apart when Jude is told Cardan has returned to Nicasia in her absence.

Cardan is determined to make it up to Jude.

**This fic is inspired by the love story between Taylor Swift’s characters Betty, James, and August.**

Should you wish to listen: Cardigan | Betty | August

Tags: Multiple POVs, angst and a happy ending, Jurdan, post-wicked king, canon divergence

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Four Months Post Exile

If she has decided that she wishes to stay away and forget about Elfhame, me, then I will forget about her as well. Except that I can’t because for the eternity she has been gone there has been nothing to rid my thoughts of her.

I grab the nearest pitcher of wine, not that they are ever far from my reach as of late, and swallow as much of the tart liquid as I can. At least if I pass out there is a chance I may dream of her, or dream of losing her. But it is a chance I am willing to take.

There is a revel happening, for a reason I cannot remember. Probably honoring some guest that I cannot be bothered to care about at this point. I tend to the kingdom as best as I can for the day, but by the time the dawn is rising I do everything I can to forget the subtle human features that haunt me. The curve of her ear, the flush in her cheeks, the softness of her form.

Since she has been gone there has been an unbearable ache in my chest that only seems to worsen at her memory. I’ve taken back up with a variety of powders that I grew accustomed to at Balekin’s parties. The numbing sensation is highly preferable to the agonizing dread that awaits me in sobriety. At least when time passes differently, I can imagine that she is home again, or at the very least, I can pass more days until she returns.

Her return seems more and more uncertain because despite my letters, she has not come home, nor even responded to them. She has made no inclination that she intends to return, which is ridiculous because she is the queen. When she returns I will have to remember to remind her of all the accusations she threw my way at neglecting responsibilities, meanwhile she has spent months in the mortal world as if waiting for me to come bring her home myself.

I grin at the idea. A trip to the mortal world could quickly end this ridiculous torture. At least I would have the chance to see her in the flesh.

She could get her anger out and then return home with me. At this point, a curse from her lips would sound like music and her fingers curled around my neck would be ecstasy.

In time, that anger might turn to forgiveness and we can all move on from this nonsense.

Present Day

What a dreadful day today has been. I should have returned to my chambers the moment I was given news of a wine shortage because poisoned wine had been found in the castle’s cellars, because that meant I had to suffer through the small council’s bickering mostly sober, followed by hours of grievance hearings from folk. For a kingdom full of people who find me utterly incompetent, they sure do make plenty of pleas to the crown.

Only one hour remains until I can leave the presence of my court and scout for my own wine to drink, poisoned or otherwise.

“Cardan…?” Nicasia said with the air of a question.

I respond with a non-committal sound before glancing in her direction to my left. Again, she had found a seat nearest mine, despite my repeated reminder that she was no longer entitled to that spot. We were nothing beyond friends with a bit of history, even if my entire council, mother, and Nicasia herself thought it was ridiculous to prolong a “land-sea” alliance any longer.

I turn back to the conversation I had been ignoring and make an appropriate response, before quickly tuning them out again. Courtiers have nothing better to do than waste my time.

Admittedly, I could see my advisors’ point and I haven’t exactly fought to deny Nicasia’s advances anymore. Not when the one I want has rejected me entirely, favoring a mortal over me and forsaking our kingdom to my inadequate rule.

If I were a kinder soul, I might have been content to see her happy and adjusted to the mortal world, but I am not. I hate myself for sending her away and I hate her just as much for not wanting to return. Every time someone suggests I marry, I want to scream the truth for the entire kingdom to hear.

I married the mortal Jude Duarte. I did it so she would release her hold over me, but I also did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make her my queen and share this dreaded life with her; the powerful, defiant, occasionally murderous, human woman with all her soft features and perfectly odd ears.

Pride be damned. If she returned, I’d allow her anything. She would never need a geas to command me. She was already a ruler, she deserved the credit. The court would eventually adjust to the idea of a human ruler once they recognized her rule. I would lead the most devoted of her court and in our bedroom, I would further prove to her just how devoted I was by spreading --

Nicasia’s hand sliding over my knee snaps me from my thoughts. The touch of her hand felt sickly wrong considering my thoughts of Jude. I brush her hand aside and purposefully ignore the hurt look on her face. I may allow her into my room on nights where even the wine and the powders cannot bring me peace, but she knows I am far too sober and there are too many people around for that.

At the edge of my peripheral I see a dark shadow approaching. The Roach; always a welcomed distraction usually armed with wonderfully bad news.

“Come to tell me of another attempt on my life?” I murmur as he bows down to whisper in my ear.

“You are needed at once, your majesty” the goblin reports.

At that, I laugh but make no effort to move. “There is a first for everything. What is it?” I am happy to use whatever matter it is as an excuse to leave, but I am curious what requires my attention that the spies could not handle themselves.

“Jude has returned. She is waiting to see you.”

His words hit like the hilt of a sword to the chest. I stand, jumping the courtier closest to me.

“I have matters to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I say to no one in particular, trying to ignore the loud pounding in my ears as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I begin to follow the Roach out of the room when I feel a hand on my arm.

“What is going on?” Nicasia asks, her eyes wide. I shake out of her grasp.

“It is a matter of great importance that does not concern you.” Instead of moving away, like my body demands to, I move in closer to her so only she can hear me. “I meant my words in the gardens. Do not show up this evening or any evening again.”

Her mouth fell slightly open as water rimmed her eyes. I didn't stay for her response, instead I turned back and followed the Roach into the tunnel, knowing every step was bringing me closer to Jude. As we stalk through the hallways, I cannot slow the questions bombarding my mind.

Did she decide against her life in the mortal world? Did she miss me as I have missed her? What should I say to her? Will she allow me to embrace her? Should I announce her return tonight?

I have envisioned dozens of scenarios of what I would say or do when she returned, but now that she is only a few steps away I have no plan past seeing her, holding her if I can, to make sure she is real and not my imagination come to life.

We take the final turn that I know leads to the headquarters for the Court of Shadows when Livier blocks the doorway.

“Where is she?”

I watch as her face contorts. She opens her mouth to respond before closing it again, clearly unsure how to answer. I don’t have patience for this. I have to see her now.

“Move Livier,” I demand.

How many months has it been since we had fallen asleep together after our vows? How long has it been that I’ve felt her pressed against me?

“Cardan, wait!” She exclaims as I try to move past her. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

I stop dead at her words.

Before I can speak, the Roach asks for me, “What do you mean? She sent us to get him.”

The pixie nods. “Yes. She went to the royal chambers, but she returned soon after and has stated she does not wish to speak.”

I cannot help the bite to my words. “To speak to anyone, or just me?”

Her silence gives me my answer. “Why?” I spit out.

She is on the other side of the wall. It has been months, what about my room could have made her decide against seeing me? A darker thought crosses my mind; what if she has decided to return to the mortal world again? The idea threatens to break me then and there in the dark tunnels beneath the castle.

Livier looks at her companion with unease.

“Why?” I demand again.

The Bomb swallows before explaining, “When she returned, she asked how long you and the Princess of the Undersea had been back together.”

My desperation melted into cruel pitiful laughter. She was jealous of Nicasia, while she had herself a human plaything. The hypocrisy was grand. I wonder how her face would look when I asked about the man and how she could possibly blame me when she broke our vows first. My laughter quickly fizzled into a frozen anger.

I needed to leave before the weight of the situation could bear down on me. In all my imaginations, I never predicted this. I had hoped she’d run to my arms or more realistically, slap me followed up with a kiss. But never returning and refusing to see me.

I want to beg to see her. Beg for her forgiveness. Beg her to stay even if she hates me.

As a king, I have every right to go wherever I please. But as a queen, she has the right to deny entry to anyone. So I turn in the tight hallway and take the turn that leads to my rooms.

She is home. She wouldn’t see me, but she is home, which meant I could fix this. She might not see me tonight, but I would win her forgiveness and maybe her love too.

****

After almost two weeks of announcements and planning, Jude’s coronation ball will begin soon. I have still yet to see her in person, but through messengers and letters she agreed to rule with me and begrudgingly accepted my proposal for a party to celebrate her return and status.

The actual coronation will not take place for another few weeks due to the time needed to gather all the court’s representatives, but this evening would be a full celebration nonetheless. She is home and that enough is cause to celebrate.

The party will also finally force Jude out of the shadows. I suspect she has moved around the castle quite a bit as I heard she met with her sisters and the Living Council, but she has made a careful effort to avoid me.

There have been several times where I have made it all the way to her door before deciding to leave and giving her the space she demands. For months now, I have had dreams of the moment we saw each other again; I have imagined her vulgar words and sweet touches. Tonight is the last night I can imagine because in a matter of hours I will see her again. For the evening, she will have no choice but to stand in the same room as me. I already announced her as my wife and Elfhame’s High Queen. After this evening, she can avoid me outside of official business, if she wishes. It would be devastating, but no more devastating than how it felt when she was gone.

I pace back and forth in my chambers thinking through all the details of the evening since I have nothing better to do. I dressed long ago in a suit twin to the dress I had sent for Jude. If I thought the last dress I designed for her was stunning, I am not sure I’ll be able to survive seeing her in tonight's creation. I gave the tailor a sketch of a silver gown with a fitted bodice and twin streams of fabric that flow from the shoulders. The hope was to create an illusion of the armor she seemed to favor. I doubt the tailor will disappoint and frankly, Jude could wear an old sack and still be devastatingly beautiful.

Before long I receive the signal to head to the ballroom. As I enter the room, I admire for the first time the servant’s efforts to fulfill my image for the evening. The decoration for a typical revel was nothing compared to the fanfare visible this evening. Long strings of lights and streamers hung from the ceiling and sweet and savory treats of all varieties are piled high on trays. The musicians and other entertainment for the evening are already in full swing keeping the guests happy and amused.

As is customary, the party has been going on for some time now, before the king and now queen enter. The center of the space is filled with revelers dancing and singing. At any other party, I would have gladly joined, but I cannot help the pooling sense of unease as I glance through the crowding looking for a particular face.

I do find the face I am looking for, but not the right person. Taryn is standing on the side of the dance floor chatting with some courtier. Locke is nowhere to be seen, which is for the best. If I notice him even causing Jude to frown this evening, I will have him locked in the dungeons for the night.

I occupy myself with some wine while I wait and use the opportunity to boast of Jude’s brilliance to anyone who decides they wish to speak with me. After about a dozen of these conversations, I finally catch a glimpse of her walking into the room with Vivianne at her side.

My Jude.

I admire her with total abandon. She is absolutely stunning. The movement of her steps causes the fabric to shimmer as it flows obscenely over her body. While I will imagine her in this dress for many nights to come, it is the crown that sits atop her head that captures my attention.

The crowd cheers at her arrival and many bow to her. While she keeps her emotions well concealed, I can see the smallest of smiles appear on her face. She enjoys the recognition. Seeing her now, if I could have given her this from the start I would have.

My heart-stopping queen.

I stay to the side where I am and watch her enjoyment from afar. She dances with her sisters from time to time and speaks to members of the gentry with ease. I know she has noted my presence, even if she has yet to look in my direction. When it is time to address the crowd, it is my turn to avoid her direction. I keep my speech to the folk short, enough to praise her and remind anyone who may be considering treason exactly who Jude Duarte is. At the final toast, I steel myself before addressing her directly.

“Welcome home, Jude.”

Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, burning with a million unspoken words before she breaks away and turns to address the now-growing crowd around her.

It was the first time she acknowledged me since the morning I sent her away and suddenly the emotion behind that realization hits me all at once. I let my eyes linger on her turned back a moment longer, before downing my drink and disappearing into the gardens to wallow in my own self pity.

I told myself I would be happy if she just returned home, but now I realize how badly each moment I spend away from her aches. In school, I hated the way I longed for her. I had chalked it up to being a disgraceful obsession; one I would have been glad to be rid of whatever that meant for Jude. Now, I am equally obsessed with my mortal queen, but rather than having just my thoughts occupied with her, I feel a feral desperation to be near her, to set things right with her.

It is not uncommon for me to be followed, but when I hear soft steps behind me, the last person I expect to turn and see is Jude. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, as if she was not the one following me. We both stare at each other for a half a second too long, before Jude mumbles something and turns to leave. I take her by the arm before she can take a single step away. I won’t let her get away a second time.

“Ask me how hideous you look tonight,” the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them.

She turns back to face me. I loosen my hold on her arm, but let my hand linger until she decides to brush it away.

“This again?” She asks, sounding more tired than annoyed. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice.

Desperate to hear her again, I reply, “I can’t. You look like a knight from a story tonight.” A filthy story, perhaps.

Jude’s cheeks pinken as she shifts away from me. If I wasn’t afraid to lose her, I might have found her unease at my closeness cute.

“I’m glad to see the kingdom is still in one piece.” Jude acknowledges, changing the subject away from her. The distance between us feels infinitely greater than the foot of space physically separating us. I’d give anything to embrace her now.

“I had help,” I state simply. It is the truth. The Court of Shadows kept tabs on everyone, friends and enemies, and the Living Council for all the headaches they cause me, they did their job as well.

“Nicasia?” Jude didn’t try or simply failed to hide the accusation in the question.

I sigh heavily and take a seat on one of the garden’s benches. “Ahh that. Yes, it is about time we talked.” I motion for her to join me, to which she refuses.

“I don’t want to hear anything about the two of you. I understand we married out of political strategy, I won’t hold you to human standards of monogamy.” Jude echos my sigh, “After your letters, I thought… Well, I misunderstood the situation.”

My core twists at the way her voice trembled on the words. When did her pain stop being cruel amusement and instead became a twin knife that hurts us both?

“I meant every word in those letters” I murmured softly. How many times had I imagined this conversation before?

Anger burns across her face, “So, what? You got bored of waiting for me to return from the exile YOU-” she jams her pointer finger into my chest hard enough to bruise, “ordered! Maybe next time make sure your letters are actually delivered or perhaps don’t send me away in the first place.”

I stand, challenging her anger with my own. “You think I wouldn’t have waited? I went to bring you home. I saw you dancing with the mortal. Don’t pretend I was the first to stray.”

I expected more anger, denial perhaps, but not... confusion?

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone else,” Jude yells exasperated.

“The blond male. I came to see you and…” I trail off when Jude laughs suddenly. “What could possibly be funny?”

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head side to side, “Cardan, you saw me with a friend. Nothing ever happened between us, ever.”

Shame washes over me like a tidal wave. I had returned from that trip thinking Jude had made her decision to forget me and stay behind. I had walked straight into a revel and drank every drop of wine in sight. Nicasia found me a few hours later laying in the grass outside the castle and when she came near I did the one thing I thought would make me feel better.

Nicasia had been the first to notice me, my first real friend then lover. After Jude, I thought she could be the thing I needed again, but I was wrong. It didn’t take long for me to realize it would never be as it was before because my heart still belonged to Jude. If I had only spoken to Jude that night in the mortal world, none of this would have happened.

“I believed the reason for your continued absence was because you were still mad. I thought I could go to the mortal world and convince you to come home, but I saw you with the mortal man. I did not handle the thought of you with another well. Nicasia was there when I got back and… I let her into my bed, but it was you that I thought of every moment you were gone.”

Several emotions ripple across her face before she quickly schooled her face into the impenetrable mask she wears around others. She wears around me too. I continue before the fear of her rejection can stop me.

“There are no tricks within my words, so please hear me when I promise you, Jude, mortal High Queen of Elfhame, it is you I love. My heart is yours and forever will be. There will be no other’s, and if you choose to have me again, it will only be you.”

I raise my hand to cup her face and watch as her eyes flutter close. My name falls off her lips like a plea and I think it might be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I lower myself to meet her soft lips. Her hands soon find the front of my jacket and I don't fight when she tugs me closer to her.

Without breaking the kiss, I use my free hand to grip her lower back and pull her back into the garden seat with me. On my lap, Jude opens herself up to me and I greedily take in more of her, missing the taste of her. I can’t help but continue to caress her body with my fingertips, long after we break to catch our breath. I place a series of kisses along her neck, each more drawn out than the last before I speak the cruel fact still on my mind, “of all my terribleness, the worst thing I ever did was what I did to you.”

It hurts knowing I can speak those words aloud. I reach up to wipe a stray tear that has fallen from her eyes.

“Will you have me again, Jude?” My heart pounds in the wake of the question. I watch as she considers it. Truthfully, I wouldn't blame her if she refused me, but it would be torturous to have her so near and not mine.

Slowly, she gives a subtle nod and I don’t hide my sigh of relief. She stares at me for a second longer, before smiling, “I love you, Cardan."

I capture her lips again, finding her more addictive than the sweetest wine.

“My sweet nemesis, how glad I am you have returned.”

Tag List: @wafflesandschemingfaces

If anyone else would like to join the list, let me know!

148 notes · View notes

wanderingpages · 4 months

Text

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Only God and @headcannonxgalore knows how many times I rewrote this one.

Jude's POV

I stand on my tiptoes, both feet perched on the back of my armchair, strategically positioned against the wall closest to the doorway. Holding my breath, I delicately place the wire right above the door frame. "Uh huh," I mumble in response to Fand's voice emanating from the speakerphone, feeling beads of sweat forming at the back of my neck. A sigh of relief escapes when the fairy lights finally find their place on the nail I had carefully tacked there earlier. Stepping down, I survey the room, content with the new decor I've added today. Admittedly, it was done as a way to create an excuse to stay in my room and avoid the rest of my family, but as I take in the rest of the scene, I can't help but feel pretty accomplished.

Suddenly, there’s a tap on my window. My brows furrow when I turn and spot Cardan standing on the roof, waiting patiently for me. He breathes against the glass before writing “Hi” and drawing a little smiley face in the fog. I let out a snort, despite myself, forgetting about my cell still running a call on my dresser.

“Jude?” Fand questions.

“Um, Fand, I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” I hardly hear her answer as I end the call, tossing the phone on the bed. I walk over to the window and pull it up. I rest my elbows on the sill, watching amused as Cardan squats down to be leveled with me.

He tugs the end of my braid, grinning, “Can I come in?”

I pretend to think, “What’s in it for me?”

“Anything you want, princess.” His eyes glimmer in the moonlight. He leans in closer and I can smell cinnamon gum on his breath. “Please,” he pleads, “It’s cold out here, Jude.” My mouth tingles at the barely there brush of his against mine. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips and I take a tentative step back for him to maneuver in. The chilled air also seems to follow him in, making goosebumps prick at my skin. I resist the urge to cover myself and take a few steps back until the back of my knees hit my bed. I take a seat, finding the koala I had thrown from my chair and bring it onto my lap, digging my fingers into its fur.

He sits on the ledge, obscuring most of the cool air from directly hitting me. He nods his head to my phone, curiously, “Who was that?”

I shrug, following his line of sight in time to see a message come through from Fand. I swipe it away, glancing at the time reading well after midnight. “A friend.”

“Oh, I’ve heard that song before,” Cardan teases. He brings his tongue to the back of his teeth, and to my annoyance, begins a series of ‘la-la-la’s’ in tune with the chorus of Biz Markie’s “Just a Friend.”

“She is,” I insist. Contrary to what my stepmother may think of me being this lonesome child, I did have a few friends in high school and Fand was by far the closest. We kept in touch throughout our first semester, and met up a handful of times since I’ve been back. But, despite that, despite the hour long conversation I just ended with her, I’ve been feeling like a stranger.

I give my stepbrother an inquiring look, wondering why he’s so far away and why we’re both acting so coy. I run the nail of my forefinger over my thumb, jolting when I snag a scabbed over bruise. Absently, I bring the scored finger to my mouth as I take him in. He looks flushed, undoing the scarf around his neck before running his fingers through his dark, windblown tresses. A silver pendant glints against his black shirt – a small double cross pendant on a roll chain. I rub my hand over my cheek and raise my brow in question. He grins when he catches my eyes and asks, “How was your run this morning?”

“My run?” I repeat, miffed. I’m partially dazed, entranced by how stark he looks against the backdrop of my very bright room; donned with a dark pair of jeans, laced up boots and what looks like a dark sherpa lined coat only enhanced by the crème colored walls and fairy lights strewn up – along with fake greenery and miscellaneous photos hooked in between – at the far corner of my room.

He turns, taking in the new decor and taps a photo closest to him, musing lightly, “When did you put this up?”

“A few hours ago,” I admit. “Have you always been partial to the color black?”

“I’m more of a gold guy,” he says, scrunching his nose in a way I can’t help but find almost cute. His nose ring shines when he tilts his head just right, and for the first time since I’ve known Cardan Greenbriar, I feel quite shabby in comparison. My pajama pants are fuzzy and juvenile with its cow printed pattern, and the large gray shirt I have on does nothing to help accentuate my body. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye,” he brings back the conversation, almost pouting at me.

“Kiss you goodbye,” I repeat dryly. I grip the koala a little tighter. “Sorry?” I offer, a moment later and he shrugs absently. “Where’d you go? Today, I mean. You were gone when I came back,” I point out, aware of how suddenly I'm the one with the accusatory tone.

He looks at me carefully when he answers, “A friend asked for some help. She’s moving furniture around.”

“She?” It comes out before I can stop myself. Him asking about Fand felt so light compared to the dread I feel asking about his friend.

He rests his head back against the window and watches me, slightly amused. “Mmhmm,” he hums and assures me, “no one to be worried about though, little sister.” His lips tilt up and I throw the teddy at him. He catches it in one hand, then brings it close to him for a cuddle. I'm all too aware of how empty and exposed I feel without it as armor.

“That’s not what I was getting at,” I mumble. My stomach churns, feeling a rush of complicated emotions twisting deep within me. Jealousy, I can admit to myself, and a pitiful type of envy as I watch the beady eyes of my stuffed animal he holds so tenderly. I play with the tips of my hair, fiddling with the elastic that holds the tight braid together. It’s a little too tight, and maybe that’s why my skull is pounding right now. “Why did you come through the window, by the way? I’m sure our parents don’t care about a curfew for you.” If I sound bitter about that, he decidedly ignores it.

"Have you considered that maybe, I just like the thrill of things," he says playfully, his eyes holding something daring and challenging within them. A wicked grin curls onto his lips and I let out a huff of air, trying not to think back on all his thrilling ideas before. A tingle crawls up my spine, unpleasantly. This time I don’t ignore the shiver and I cross my arms over my chest.

I roll my eyes, “Okay, you adrenaline junkie, can you close the window now? Pneumonia isn’t very thrilling, so to speak.”

He instead places the koala on the bookshelf and moves to come closer to me, though he pauses when I give his boots a pointed look. He retracts, settling back against the window, instead of undoing his laces like I thought he would. “Come here, first,” he barters. I blink in hesitation, and while I try to remain seated, my feet lead me to him anyway. I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself, wondering if I’d bark, too, if he told me to get on all fours for him.

I toe at his boot when we’re close together, staring down at the chipped polish on my nails against his scuffed leather. I’m avoiding his gaze because it’s so damn bright in my room that I know if I meet his eyes, I’ll find that his dark irises are not black as midnight, but a deep brown with tiny, lighter flecks of amber around the edges. I’ll get lost in them like I shouldn’t, fall just a little deeper, maybe, forget that this is a game and fold. He tilts my chin up and my heart’s nearly steady rhythm skyrockets as soon as my gaze falls on his lips. “Hi,” I say, quietly.

“Jude,” Cardan says just as breathlessly, and it catches me off guard at first. My name sounds like sin…like desire, when he says it, and as I place my fingers over his chest, I wonder if the devil has ever called out a saint’s name so enticingly. ‘Eve,’ the snake whispered, ‘bite the apple’ must be tantamount to ‘Jude, ride my fingers.’ His lips twitch, a lone finger tracing pink in my cheek, and he asks, “What are you thinking?”

I don't answer. I reach for the cross dangling from his neck, testing the weight on the tip of my finger. It’s heavier than most pendants its size, and when I flip it over, I’m not surprised to see the letters ‘c’ and ‘h’ embossed on it. I want to twist the chain around my fingers until it purples my skin, until it embeds in his flesh, until he struggles for breath – maybe then he’ll feel an ounce of what I feel when I'm this close to him. I trace up the chain, following it to where his skin is flushed from the weather. I find a bruising mark along the juncture of his neck. I bite my tongue, embarrassed to know that I was the one who left it there. I finger it lightly and he shudders, to my surprise. His lashes flutter and his lips part.

Astounded, I trace the mark again and watch, enthralled as he sucks in a breath. His heated hand grasps my iced one, removing it from his skin. He squeezes it lightly, thawing my fingers before letting them go. My hands then move to his hips, creeping towards his back, sneaking into the warmth of his jacket. Cardan’s hand against my face splays, fingers reaching to my neck, his other hand goes to my hair, curling it like a rope around his wrist and bending my head back. He leans closer, cinnamon wafting over my cheeks. I want to kiss him, I realize. Not in the throws of passion or under the guise of secrecy, I just want to kiss him soft and sweet; press our lips together for just a second. Perhaps, I had done myself a disservice, not kissing him goodbye this morning. Lost a chance of daylight reaching our sins.

His eyes search mine, he’s annoyed, I think drably, but he holds me in place with no malice touching his features. His thumb traces the darkness under my eye, indication of my lack of sleep. “Is it me?” His question confuses me for a moment, and I grip his shirt just a bit tighter. “Something else? Daddy?” I frown at that when I follow his thought process. Dad, guilt, Asha… I try to turn my face but he doesn’t let me cower. His eyes search mine, then he offers, “Do you want to get out of here?”

I hesitate to answer, only because I’m not quite sure of how grand of a scope his question entails. Get out of my room, or get out of this life? “It’s past my curfew,” I finally murmur stupidly, my breath hitching when our lips meet briefly.

His lips stretch against mine. “Go find a jacket,” He turns me to face my closet and I stumble towards it, colder the further I move away from him.

“Should I change?” I ask, looking down at my sleepwear.

“What’s the point, if I'm going to get you out of them, anyways?” I scowl and turn my head to him. His smile is boyish as he surrenders, “Joking – I would dare not corrupt my darling little sister, of course.”

“You’re sick,” I tell him, now deciding on remaining in my frumpy attire out of spite. He laughs out a stupid childish phrase, implying I was the sick one, not him. I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him and head to my closet, finding the only coat not currently hanging downstairs in the foyer. I grab a pair of thick socks from a drawer and then proceed to slip on sneakers that have seen better days. They’re no pristine, white high tops like Vivienne's but they do the trick all the same. “How do I look?”

I give him a turn, not really expecting a response as I walk up to him – I’m sure I resemble a clown school drop out – but I let out a startled noise when he pulls the scarf from his neck and wraps it around my own. “It’s cold,” he explains. It’s a soft cashmere and smells just like him. He climbs out the window first, not giving me a chance to respond, then holds out a hand to help me out. I keep my mouth closed, nuzzling deeper into his scarf as he explains how to get down. I’m only half hearing his words as the thrill of sneaking out starts to surface by the tremble of my body. He navigates his way down first, making sure I'm closely following behind. I feel a little giddy, and perhaps it shows on my face when Cardan glances at me. His soft smile seems responsive to my mood. He throws an arm over my shoulder and quietly leads us past his car and towards the sidewalk, then a little ways down.

He finally pauses far enough away, under the shelter of trees at the dead end of the cul-de-sac where not even the neighboring houses’ security lights can touch us. We’re in front of a pick-up truck, old and rusted and not at all something I’d ever picture Cardan driving; seemingly out of place even in my neighborhood. My eyebrows shoot up when he opens the door and gestures me in. “This is humbling,” I finally manage, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He holds a hand out to me and I take it, letting him help me into the cab. It’s a little shabby, but I feel more comfortable than I did in his car. Maybe it’s because the truck holds no awkward memories I constantly have to face in it.

He jogs over to the other side, quickly turning dials to blast the heat. He keeps the windows down only a crack to diminish any fog on the glass, then pulls on to the road. My fingers wiggle in front of the vents, warming them up, humming to the low music his radio plays. His lips tilt in a small smile, “I told you, I was helping a friend.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “So you rented this?

“Baby, I own this,” he says almost proudly. “None of Daddy’s money and all.” He shrugs and turns the music up, “Have you ever seen Insmire during the holidays? We missed the Halloween decorations, but Christmas is something else.”

“No,” I shake my head and lean back, tucking my chin to snuggle into his scarf. I wonder idly when the warm musky scent of him has turned into something comforting for me. “I never really had a reason to go to Insmire.”

He glances at me then nods to the canvas bag by my feet, “You cold? There’s a blanket in there.” I reach down and pull out a thick beige knitted throw with gold sequins scattered here and there. Before I can mention anything Cardan says, “Nicasia didn’t want it, said you’d probably like it.”

I tuck it back into the bag, “Nicasia?” it takes me a minute to realize that she’s the friend he’d been helping. Something sours knots in my stomach and I try to ignore it. Had he driven that far to see her, or did she also live much closer than I knew? “From the party? She… knows about us?” It’s stupid to ask, I know before he answers. I think about Ghost and what he asked me that night, if I wanted them to watch – wanted my stepbrother to watch. He knew, so of course she knew, too.

“Jude,” Cardan laughs, “She got her rocks off watching me watch you; I’m sure she might have an inkling of how constantly I think about fucking my stepsister.”

“Oh,” I mumble, wryly, “Is that how her rocks got off?”

“I might have helped some,” He laughs, turning the radio up. “I think she likes you,” he offers and I squirm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you.”

“Little liar. I think you like me a lot. And it’s more than just the dirty shit I do to you; you like me as a person and all that.” In another world, I’d agree and we’d call this our third date.

I grind my molars, staring out the window, watching the lights pass us by. “I don't even think I know you as a person, really. Like, what do you even major in?”

“Psychology,” he says, not missing a beat.

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “Why that?”

“Wish I had a better therapist when I was 7,” he drops on me. “What better way to fix the system than from within?”

I look at him with high brows, “Really? I mean- I… I’m so sorry, Cardan -”

“I am pretty exceptional at coloring within the lines, though,” he smiles almost indifferently. “I think that's really all I did in her office - color worksheets she’d give me.” I part my lips, but he changes the subject, “You ever been ice skating?”

“No…” I say, slowly, accepting the new information and trying not to pry where he doesn't want me to. “I’m not really into sports - I never even learned how to ride a bike.”

“You run,” he points out, to which I shrug as this was something new to me too. “Wait, you don't know how to ride a bike?” I let out a startled laugh because yeah, that does seem incredulous.

“He may not seem like it, but Dad worries a lot. He’s never let me experience scraped knees. I don’t even have my ears pierced.” I give him a grin but he doesn't reciprocate. His eyes are trained in front of him, glancing up at street signs so my eyebrows furrow when Cardan reaches blindly, fingers touching my ear, thumbing where a first piercing would be. “Oh,” I say, “I guess it’s weird that I took your earrings then - do you want them back?”

He rolls his eyes, making a turn as his fingers glide down to my shoulder, then lower to my hand, encasing it in his. “Don’t be stupid, Jude.”

We talk casually, asking and answering more asinine questions – whatever we must have missed on our road-trip home. I give his fingers a squeeze when I get more comfortable, giggling a bit as Cardan sings off-key to the Christmas song playing on the radio. I turn my head to the window, watching as gradually, bare houses with some fairy lights slowly transcend into houses adorned with strings of multicolored lights blinking in harmony. Every single tree we pass by has an array of lights shining brightly. Inflatable Santas and reindeers sway in the winter breeze. It’s almost whimsical. I lean closer to the window, aware of Cardan slowing down for me to see. Sure, Insmoor had their fair share of décor, but Insmire felt like being inside a snow globe.

“This doesn't feel real,” I whisper in wonder. I roll down the window halfway, sticking my head out the car to get a better look. Cardan’s hand holds mine a bit tighter, as if he’s scared I'd fall out. The decorations become more intricate, with some houses featuring life-sized nutcrackers and snowmen. Strings of lights with snowflakes and baubles at the end hang from bare trees, looking like giant ornaments floating in the air. Even the towering Christmas trees are visible through the windows. One house even has a Grinch placed by their chimney. They all look like different scenes from different Christmas movies.“Cardan - look!” The air carries the familiar scent of winter pine, and for a moment, the festive atmosphere transports me back in time.

The memories flood, foggy, but still there, and suddenly, the smile on my face feels like it’s worth too much effort. I recall silver thistle wrapped around a small tree, baubles with our names on it. Jude, Eva, Madoc. “It’s so pretty, Mommy!” I said as dad lifted me on his shoulders, letting me place an angel on the top of the tree, followed by a distant response of,“Just like you my baby.” A scene so warm makes me feel so cold now. When did I stop believing in Santa? It had to have been after Mom left - but had Dad ever attempted to keep up pretenses after that year? I can't remember a happy holiday with just my father and I. Even with Asha's added presence, we never went for usual Christmas traditions, though it was probably the only time I ever received a wrapped gift or Christmas cookies - albeit store bought, it still embraced the holiday that in a way, my dad had halted.

“Jude?” Cardan's voice breaks through my reverie, calling my name with concern. I don't answer immediately; the emotions threaten to overwhelm me. I wipe my eyes, taking a moment to center myself. My hand feels cold in his.

“Even your house is decorated,” I point out, trying to mask the sudden croak in my voice. The truck rolls to a stop in front of someone’s lawn. His front lawn might be the most tame, though still painting a picture of a snow-family opening presents by a large Christmas tree.

I see Cardan run a hand through his hair from my window’s reflection. The cheery glow seems to turn into an uncomfortable spotlight. He looks torn on whether to answer me or offer me comfort. “Yeah, we…pay people to do that for us.” He’s concerned when he asks, “Jude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I wipe at my nose and turn to give him a smile. It wavers and feels forced, not fooling either of us. “I just remembered… I just… I haven’t had homemade hot chocolate until your mom showed up.” I feel like I’m somehow betraying him by telling him this. “I didn’t even know what Elf on a Shelf was until she started living with us.”

His eyes flash; he looks almost… defeated. “Yeah?” he tugs my hand, and I let him pull me closer, let him turn me and guide me on to his lap. He shifts us down to the center, making sure the steering wheel wouldn’t dig into me. I place my palms on his chest as he undoes the scarf, letting it hang around my neck, then works on my zipper, smoothly sliding it down and unhooking it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I lower my head to his. Sorry I fell for Asha - wish I fell for you, first.

He seems to hesitate, his gaze lingering not exactly on me, but at me. "She’s not my favorite person, but if she’s yours, then..." he shrugs, and pulls me closer, his hands coming to my hips, sliding beneath my shirt to the small of my back. “It's a little funny,” he smirks with no mirth, “She never even knew how to make hot chocolate when I used to visit. She burned chocolate in the microwave once. Unrelated, but I never went back after that year.”

I frown, tracing the curve of his lips with my thumbs. “What did she do?” I ask, before I can stop myself. My eyes grow wide, “Don’t answer that, sorry -”

He cuts me off, giving me a dry smile, “It’s all water under the bridge, don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“Cardan…”

As if it explains anything, he says, “My mother is a devout catholic now, repenting and all that,” his droll is sardonic. “Maybe she’d be proud of how biblically I want you.” his fingers creep higher, thumbs maneuvering over my breasts making me suck in breath when he caresses my peaked nipples. I bite down on my lip; I think I know him well enough to know he’s deflecting, but I don't mind. His hands are so, so, so warm. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could handle it. Don't worry, little sister.” He trails off quietly, a far off look on his face. His thumbs are absently rubbing over me in small circles. My knees twitch and I feel the shake in my thighs as I grind down on his lap, reaching for some type of friction. He sucks in a breath, fingers digging into my skin. His lips twitch, eyes gleaming when he meets mine, “Anyways, you can tell Daddy that I think you ride just fine, baby sister.”

I grit my teeth, sliding my hands to cup the back of his neck. I grip at the hair at his nape, moving my hips a little harder. “Fuck you,” I manage, and he just smiles, so awfully, holding on to me as I continue to take what I can from him, like a damned hypocrite. My nails dig into his scalp and my head falls back. I feel warm and flushed and lightheaded. His nail scrapes against my nerves, and I bite down hard on my bottom lip. Heat pools between my legs the more he circles my nipples. They get so sensitive so fast that it starts to feel like torment. “Ah,” I whisper, my nails on the brink of breaking his skin.

There’s a rush in my ears and it takes me some time to realize Cardan is speaking to me, whispering to me, praising me, taking nonsense,“...good… you look so fucking good…so pretty…riding this dick…” I let out a moan when he shifts his hips and we align perfectly. “I wonder,” he breathes, “how often you hump your pillows… like this… ride your stuffed toys… wishing it was me….” I’m too gone to be embarrassed. I want to undo his pants but I don't want to let go of him, I don't want him to let go of me, either. He reaches down, biting me over my shirt and I let out a cry when he tugs at the peaked tips of my breasts, one after the other.

Cardan’s fingers are bruising into my skin and when I glance down, he’s already looking up at me. The lights flicker against his necklace, taunting me, and for a moment, I imagine it dangling off his bare neck, teasing my skin as he hovers over me. I lean down until my lips are by his ear and bite down on his earlobe. He pinches me under my shirt, in retaliation, before rubbing his fingers over the soreness. I suck in a breath, feeling hot and heady, rubbing harder on him until the ache in my clit is satiated.

“Which one was it,” he whispers. “The snake?”

“No,” I manage.

“Koala? Cat…?” His grunts are labored, I shake my head against him, and I lift my hips just a bit to bounce on him. “A pillow?”

I whimper and his hands slide down to my hips, kneading at my flesh guiding me roughly. My eyes screw tight, as heat erupts inside of me. I pull his chain from the back, letting the cross dagger into his skin, press into the hollow of his neck, while I ride the last of the euphoric wave. My lips move against his skin, “no… I have a different toy. One that vibrates. I’ll let you watch one day.”

His eyes are lidded, when I pull away to look at him. His breaths come out shallow as I slow to a stop. He brings a hand to my hair, winding my braid until my neck pulls back. He bites down right under my chin, pulling away with a harsh suck of skin. “I’ll hold you to it.”

He slowly unravels my hair and my fingers shake as I hold on to him, trying to catch my breath. “Do you…” I can't find my words, falling forward to place my head against his. My hands slowly lets go of him, falling from his neck and down to his chest. I go lower, reaching the button on his jeans, “You didn’t…”

He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, “Just stay still for a moment.” He gives me a dry laugh, “It’s not so easy to clean up come in my current position, as it is for you to hide how wet your panties are.” I roll my eyes, but heed his request. Finally, he opens his eyes and searches mine. “You look tired.”

I snort, “no kidding.”

He grins, “I should get you back home now. You’re due for a run in a few hours then I'm sure you’ll follow Asha to mass later, right?” I grimace at that but nod anyway, feeling a little more than anxious about Sunday service.

“I feel another sleepless night coming,” I admit. He slowly moves his other hand from under my shirt to hold my face, and I tell him, “It’s not you, by the way.” He gives me a questioning look and I smile as much as I can for him. “The longest I’ve slept since we’ve been back was last night, in your arms.” I lean in to give him the kiss we’d missed out on before. He grabs my chin, not letting me fully pull away, and presses his lips to mine again, turning the soft peck into something more, parting my lips with his own, coating my tongue with cinnamon.

←Prev Part ∞ Next Part →

Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

45 notes · View notes

beeirifulmer · 2 years

Text

Flightless Bird Pt. 1

//Warning, this contains all book spoilers.

This drops off of the request I had, but I have a new part so if the first part seems a bit familiar, that’s why.

~ TRIGGER WARNINGS: This series contains slightly NSFW content, kidnapping, torturing, child endangerment. This series a pretty intense, so if I miss any, please let me know! ~

Jude was still in exile, but it was two years later, and she was happily married to another man. They moved in together, and she discarded all her fears of Cardan Greenbriar ever finding out, in fact, she never said his name again.

“Jude?” The girl perked her head up as she smiled hearing the sound of her husband.

“I’m in the office, Garret!” She chuckled to herself as she continued typing on her laptop. Overtime, Jude accepted that this was her life now. No need to worry and pretend like she belonged with the folk. Jude would be wrong if she said she didn’t miss her old life though, running around in dresses with her sisters, dancing under the stars.

“Good morning, sweet Jude. And how did you sleep?” Garret smiled as he took a seat beside Jude. Garret had no clue about Jude’s past life, Taryn and Vivienne kept their mouths shut, not that Taryn ever came. After Taryn gave birth, she never came to the mortal world, Jude tried to ignore it, but she worried there was more to it than her twin not visiting. Garret knew nothing of Cardan, nor her scars, nor her true story.

Jude explained how she slept, smiling softly as Garret laid her leg on his lap and rubbed her calf. Garret always listened, always kept an eye on Jude, always cared for her, and he was especially careful when they first got sexual, even though he was slightly wondering how a 20 year old was a virgin. Jude loved him, but there was always that small problem. She l-

“I think I’m gonna go on my morning run,” Jude smiled at her husband, kissing his cheek goodbye as she left no room for him to say anything.

On her run, she tried to even her breathing as that small problem ran through her brain. It always did this, she’d think of it and it would flood her brain over and over as she almost felt guilty. She told herself it wasn’t true, that she just missed the memories, but dammit he was the flame and she was a moth.

Jude stopped in the woods, hands on her knees as she leaned against a tree. She tried convincing herself it was just her brain tricking her. It wasn’t true.

“Hello Jude,” Jude stood up straight, thinking she was officially going crazy. “Thought you could get rid of me?” The voice traveled through her body, and she knew exactly who it was.

“Glad to see you back.

Cardan.”

~~~

Opening her eyes, Jude found herself tied to a chair. Not remembering how she even passed out, she struggled and struggled back and forth before the door swung open. In walked Cardan, then the Bomb, then the Roach, then the Ghost.

“Hey it’s a party, huh.” Jude sarcastically joked. “Let me go so I can go home to my husband.”

“See, I told you I wasn’t lying.” The Roach glared as he sat beside the Bomb, the Ghost standing in the corner as Cardan walked over to Jude.

“You’re not going back.” Cardan leaned his hand against the back of Jude’s chair, “you’re staying here, Mrs. Greenbriar.” Jude kept her composure, finding her eyes drifting down to Cardan’s lips. The soft, beautiful pink flesh made Jude’s fighting thoughts disappear.

Cardan slowly untied her, the Bomb having herself ready to grab the Queen if she chose to ruin her chances of freedom. Jude’s breathing grew deeper as Cardan grew closer. Her fingers slowly wrapped around the thin arm of the chair she was still glued to, the Bomb grabbing her knife.

The next moves seemed to move by quickly as Jude grabbed the King’s head and switched their positions. Cardan slammed into the chair and Jude grabbed the dagger out of her thigh garter, Cardan grabbing the knife out of the Bomb’s hand. Jude raised her leg to kick the man, but she was too slow as he grabbed her ankle and yanked her to his body. Just as Jude was to fall on the ground, Cardan - having the higher power being taller - held her tensed bent knee and they both held her up before she fell.

Jude’s palms sat flat on the ground above her as she kicked her leg of Cardan and swung them over in a back walkover as she fell onto her hands and knees before standing up, grabbing what she had been searching for since she woke up. The design of Nightfell seemed to sing to her as her once-calloused hands ran over them.

Cardan panted as he grabbed his own sword, holding it up in a leg-spreaded stance. His chest rose and fell, cat eyes narrowing at his lover. The Bomb, the Roach and the Ghost sat in the rafters now, watching intently as they all hoped they were right with how this would turn out.

The silence between the King and Queen was almost like the quiet scene in a horror movie right before the protagonist gets attacked from behind. The two both eased close to one another, Nightfell dragging behind Jude, opposite of Cardan who stood in a ready stance to attack knowing the woman he fell for. The couple began to circle, Jude staring through her eyebrows as Cardan kept his chin up to assert dominance. “Jude Duarte-Greenbriar.”

“Don’t call me that!” Jude growled, swinging her sword only for Cardan to block it with his own. “My name is Jude Hemmings.” The King seemed to be on his last nerve, letting out a loud cackle of mockery.

“Is that what his last name was?” He looked at her. “Your name is Jude Duarte-Greenbriar,” Cardan dodged another sword swing. “You are the rightful High Queen of Elfhame!” The boy rolled as Jude started a full sword fight. The two went on for a minute or so before Cardan dragged his sword across her ankles, and she tripped trying to dodge them. The girl was now pinned to the wall, sword falling away from her, and Cardan’s sword pressed against her neck. “And you are my wife,” the last part came out as a low, possessive growl, thinking of how he countlessly saw what was his, laughing with a pathetic mortal man.

“Let’s make one thing clear, King Cardan.” Jude began, shuffling her feet a little yet Cardan stayed unaware. “You’re Queenless. You let me go, you fucked up what we could have had.” Jude’s foot finally tucked under Nightfell, and she flipped them over as Cardan landed in the same position Jude was just in mere seconds ago. The Court of Shadows thought this was the end, she would behead the King and leave.

That is, until she kissed him.

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.” Jude muttered into the kiss, sword dropping as Cardan took the chance to press her body to himself. Both of them pulled away as Jude moved, walking behind her but Cardan followed. “And that doesn’t mean I didn’t pray I’d get a note, or a servant at my doorsteps bowing to me.”

“You were pardoned by the crown, Jude. You are the crown.” The walking continued slowly as Jude cocked a head.

“I knew it was a trick vow, but you know how to lie even when you cannot.”

“What else then?” The movements stopped, the space between them still remaining. “Tell me more, spew the poison.” His voice almost seemed to beg.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t lay in bed with Garret imagining it was all you. Taming me,” now with every word Jude named off, she let Cardan step closer. “Ruining me,” step. “Kissing every damn inch of my body,” step. Cardan was now inches away from his wife, “loving me.” The last words came out of her mouth with a dry aftertaste. Swallowing hard, she looked up into her husband’s eyes and both of their mouths stayed shut for once.

Until they both smashed into one another with an animalistic passion. Jude’s back landed on the table behind them after Cardan’s arm swiped everything off to lay her down. Teeth clashing, tongues fighting, lips smashing, cursed mutters, skin on fire. Jude’s hand tangled into Cardan’s hair, his hand landing on the arch of her back and pulling her closer to him again. Finally, after Cardan left light marks on her neck, he looked at her and they stared at one another out of breath.

“Cardan.” Jude started.

“Jude.”

“Where’s my sister?” Cardan’s face fell, knowing which sister he meant.

“That’s why you’re here,” Cardan stood up, Jude’s face twisting into what seemed to be anger.

“Wait,” Jude unraveled her hands and legs from Cardan and stood up off the table. The Court all falling to gracefully stand on the table Jude was just on. “You only brought me here for Taryn? No, ‘I missed you’? No, ‘I wanted you home’?”

“Jude-”

“No, Cardan!” Jude cut off her husband. “If it weren’t for Taryn, would you have kidnapped me?”

“You were married!”

“Do you know how long it took for me to get married?! To find a man that didn’t make me wanna run away because he wasn’t you? Garret still couldn’t do that!”

“Jude-”

“I spent days wishing for you to come to me. For somebody to escort me back home. To my home! The day never came, I almost died countless times for money, to pay my rent, to just get a taste of missions!”

“Jude.”

“I waited on Heather’s couch, I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to sleep, I didn’t want to move! My husband exiled me! Now I’m here, out of exile but it’s because of my sister?! What, did you marry her instead to replace me?!”

“Jude!” Cardan now had Jude’s wrists in his grasp.

“What!” He waited for her to calm down before he spoke softly as the Ghost walked out of the room, slamming the door as if he didn’t want to hear what Cardan was about to say.

“We think Locke kidnapped Taryn and the baby and took her somewhere. They’ve been missing for over a year, and we need you to help us.”

#cardanandjude #jude greenbriar #jurdan #jude duarte #high queen jude #cardan greenbriar #high king cardan #cardan my beloved #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #tarynduarte

36 notes · View notes

heaven-in-a-wild-flower · 3 years

Text

Jurdan Headcanon (Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar)

I’ve also published this on ao3 if you’d rather read it there, here’s the link. I’m making this a full series (Cardan in the Mortal World).

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Previous Chapter (Chapter 3)

Cardan in the Mortal World (Chapter 4)

Drowning Kings, Blood Baths and Bath Explosives

Jude is worried. She's been pacing in front of the bathroom for a few minutes now, twisting her fingers together. At first, she was just lounging on the bed, waiting for her husband to come out of his bath. 30 minutes passed. Then an hour. And now it's been two whole hours! She knows that it's important to respect someone's space, to respect their need to relax and be alone, but this is really pushing it, right? What if he's in danger?

Her immortal faerie husband killed by drowning in the tub. The image makes a hysterical laugh bubble out of her, but it's cut short by the fact that it truly is a possibility. Jude can fully imagine Cardan somehow managing to be defeated by a simple Mortal invention. So she takes a deep breath and slams her shoulder into the door, intending to break open the lock. But the door was not locked at all (not because Cardan is so comfortable with his wife which he is, but it's actually because he finds Mortal locks more than a tad bit confusing) so she stumbles in.

The sight that greets her eyes, makes her gasp and fall to her knees in front of the tub. Her heart is beating so so fast and that fear that she'd forgotten (an old frenemy) rises up again.

Cardan is confused. Well, first he was excited, then relaxed and now he's confused. "Darling, what's wrong?" he asks, one eye opening.

Jude looks shocked to see him respond, perhaps she thought he'd fallen asleep. "What's wrong?! You're- you're sitting in a pool of your blood!" She's yelling now, glaring at him (it reminds him of those times all those years ago when they'd fight. He loves that she's yelling out of concern for him now).

"Oh! Ah, I see that it looks quite gory now. It's actually just one of these bath explosives. They come in all colours, did you know?"

"Bath...explosive? Oh, you mean bath bombs," she sounds calmer now, like the fight's all gone out of her and she slumps against the side of the bathtub. He holds her shoulder with his soapy hand, and she leans into him. "Huh, you smell quite nice."

"Oh yes! These bath explosives are scented too! Aren't they simply marvellous? They even come in all sorts of shapes! There's even castles! And those miniature cakes (cupcakes) we tried once. Although they don't taste quite like them."

"Wait, what? Cardan, you've been eating the bath bombs?!" Jude is back at full energy now (she's at her best when she's fighting, on his side or against. Oh, he loves his warrior wife. That fire that shines in her eyes).

"No, no. I'm not daft. Of course I didn't try to castle or dragon ones, only the food shaped ones. And I stopped after a bite, they don't suit my taste," Cardan replies, a bit indignantly.

"Oh god," Jude says, collapsing against him in loud guffaws. "Only you, Cardan."

"What? What is it? Do the non-food ones also have some special flavour?" Cardan is confused at his wife (not for the first time and certainly not the last). He's enjoying her laughs but he would prefer to be in on the joke.

"None of them are meant to be eaten, my love. They're not edible," she tells him, kissing his cheek, consolingly.

"What?" he rears back, shocked. "Then why would they make them look like food? That's so very Mortal, always making everything unnecessarily confusing."

***

He still loves them though. Each day he tries out a new one and is suddenly ecstatic when it explodes in colour and scent and bubbles. The joy on his face is child-like (even though his childhood wasn't very full of joy) and not for the first time, Jude wonders what he'd have been like if he had grown up in the Mortal world.

His face moves closer to the water, his tongue out. "No! Cardan, I told you it's not edible!" Jude says rushing forward.

He sticks his tongue out at her instead and pulls her closer. "Oh, I know." He does something altogether different with his tongue and this, Jude doesn't complain about at all.

Thanking @whatafuckingbabe for this wonderful idea, hope you liked it!

Tagging,@jurdanhell @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tagging list (or removed).

Next Chapter

#jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude cardan #jurdan headcanons #jurdan hc #Cardan in the mortal world!#tcp #the cruel prince #tfota #the folk of the air

79 notes · View notes

jonbernthalslut · 3 years

Text

taylor swift songs/lyrics & the ships/characters that i relate them to

~ cowboy like me ~

dean winchester & castiel

never wanted love, just a fancy car. now i’m waiting by the telephone, like i’m sitting in a airport bar. you had some tricks up your sleeve, takes one to know one. you’re a cowboy like me.

~ forever and always ~

abed nadir & troy barnes

and i stare at the phone, he still hasn’t called. and then you feel so low you feel nothing at all. and you flashback to when he said “forever and always”. oh, and it rains in your bedroom, everything is wrong. it rains when you’re here and it rains when you’re gone.

~ you are in love ~

kaz brekker and inej ghafa

you kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk. one night he wakes, strange look on his face. pauses then says, “you’re my best friend” and you knew what it was. he is in love.

~ marjorie ~

yelena belova

i should’ve asked you questions, i should’ve asked you how to be. asked you to write it down for me. should’ve kept every grocery store receipt. ‘cause every scrap of you would be taken from me.

~ cornelia street ~

nina zenik & matthias helvar

i hope i never lose you, hope it never ends. i’d never walk cornelia street again. that’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend. i’d never walk cornelia street again. and baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name. and baby, i’m so terrified of if you ever walk away.

~ the archer ~

james ‘bucky’ buchanan barnes

i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost. the room is on fire, invisible smoke. and all my heroes die alone, help me hold onto you. i’ve been the archer. i’ve been the prey. screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay? (i see right through me, i see right through me)

~ new romantics ~

jessica day, nick miller, cece parikh, winston schmidt, winston bishop & coach.

‘cause baby i could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me. and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream. baby, we’re the new romantics. come on, come along with me. heartbreak is the national anthem, we sing it proudly. we are too busy dancing, to get knocked off our feet.

~ don’t blame me ~

jude duarte & cardan greenbriar

and, baby, for you, i would fall from grace. just to touch your face. if you walk away, i’d beg you on my knees to stay. don’t blame me, love made me crazy. if it doesn’t you ain’t doin it right. lord, save me, my drug is my baby. i’d be usin’ for the rest of my life.

~ never grow up ~

scott lang, to cassie lang.

oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up. don’t you ever grow up. just stay this little. oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up. don’t you ever grow up. it could stay this simple. i won’t let nobody hurt you, won’t let no one break your heart, and no one will desert you. just try to never grow up, never grow up.

~ coney island ~

bucky barnes, post infinity war

and if this is the long haul, how did we get here so soon? did i close my fist around something delicate? did i shatter you? and i’m sitting on a bench in coney island wondering, “where did my baby go?”

~ last kiss ~

peter parker (andrew garfield) & gwen stacy

i never thought we’d have a last kiss, never imagined we’d end like this. your name, forever the name on my lips. just like our last kiss. forever the name on my lips.

~ dress ~

bucky barnes & sam wilson

flashback when you met me. your buzzcut and my hair bleached long. even in my worst times, you could see the best of me. flashback to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes. even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me. and i woke up just in time. now i wake up by your side.

~ renegade ~

sirius black & remus lupin

are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? and let all your damage damage me. and carry your baggage up my street. and make me your future, history, it’s time. you’ve come a long way, open the blinds, let me see your face. you wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody.

~ safe and sound ~

katniss everdeen & peeta mellark

i remember tears streaming down your face when i said i’ll never let you go. when all those shadows almost killed your light. i remember when you said don’t leave me here alone, but all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight. just close your eyes, the sun is going down. you’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now. come morning light, you and i’ll be safe and sound.

~ paper rings ~

alina starkov & malyen oretsev

kiss me once, cause you know i had a long night. kiss me twice, cause it’s gonna be alright. three times, cause i waited my whole life. i like shiny things but i’d marry you with paper rings, uh huh, that’s right, you’re the one i want.

and finally, my inspiration for this entire post:

~ call it what you want ~

bucky barnes & sam wilson

i’m doin better than i ever was, cause, my baby’s fit like a daydream, walking with his head down, i’m the one he’s walking to. so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to. my baby’s fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i’m brand new. so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to.

#deancas #trobed #kanej #yelena boleva #helnik #bucky barnes #new girl #jude x cardan #scott lang #cassie lang #peter parker #gwen stacy #sambucky #wolfstar #katniss x peeta #malina

108 notes · View notes

yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere · 3 years

Text

WHY WE LOVE CARDAN GREENBRIAR: quotes:

“ Cardan doesn’t add that he laughs when he is nervous.”

“I’m nervous. I smile a lot when I’m nervous. I can’t help it. “

“We’re all trapped in cages, little sprite. How can I free you when I can’t even free myself? “

“I am certain you are about to enlighten me”

“I have many other, even worse, qualities.”

“How ought I know? You do whatever it is mortals do in your land.”

“I was reading, not sulking. But I am happy enough to be distracted. May I carry your basket?”

“This is most certainly not the story you told me when I was nine”

“I would have my room. Perhaps you two might take whatever this is elsewhere.”

“Stop telling me who I am. I am tired of your stories.”

“But if you regret it, do not think that you will be able to call me back to your side like some forgotten plaything you mislaid for a while.”

“I am nothing, if not dramatic.”

“If he thought I was bad, I would be so much worse.”

“My sweet villain.”

“My darling god.”

“My sweet nemesis.”

“Lessons are suspended for the afternoon, by royal whim”

“Which one? Which mortal girl?”

“Your pardon. Might you have some means by which I can navigate your land?”

“Let me tell you a story…Once upon a time, there was a boy with a clever tongue. Perhaps he had reasons to be awful, perhaps he was born bad, but no matter . None of it gave him much pleasure, so he went to the woods and begged a troll woman to turn his heart to stone. He was angry. And a fool. Thereafter he could neither pleasure nor pain, not fear nor hope. At first, it seemed like the blessing he had supposed it would be. But as the evening came, the boy was aware of the strangeness of feeling nothing at all. He had begged for the heart of stone, but for the first time, he felt the weight of it in his chest. He wondered if he ought to be afraid of what was to come. He wondered if there was something profoundly wrong with him that he could not. Though his heart was as hard and cold as ever, he wondered what he would feel if it were not.”

“You don’t think monster girls and wicked boys deserve love?”

“Everyone finds different lessons in stories, I suppose, but here’s one: Having a heart is terrible, but you need one anyway. It doesn’t matter if the boy with the heart of stone was the villain. It doesn’t matter if he got what he deserved. No one’s heart has to remain stone.”

“And you think it was sunrise I was waiting for and not my queen? Do you not hear her footfalls? She has never quite managed the trick of hiding them as well as one of the Folk. Surely you’ve heard of her, Jude Duarte, who defeated the redcap Grima Mog, who brought the Court of Teeth to their knees? She’s forever getting me out of scrapes. Truly, I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“You didn’t hear the story I told. A shame. It featured a handsome boy with a heart of stone and a natural aptitude for villainy. Everything you could like.”

“There is one thing I did like about playing the hero. The only good bit. And that was not having to be terrified for you.”

“So long as you’re begging”

"I am no murderer."

“Never is like Forever.”

"Time to change partners. Oh, did I steal your line?"

„ Ruling is like wine. It brings out the worst in anyone who takes too deep a draught, yet we all want a taste.”

"But then it is my nature to only wants things I cannot have."

“Locke hasn’t gotten around to seducing me yet, if that’s what you’re asking. I suppose, I should be insulted.“

“Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.”

"Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes.”

“And to Jude, who gave me a gift tonight. One that I plan to repay in kind.”

“I am the Corn King, after all, to be sacrificed so little Oak can take my place in the spring.”

“You ought not to be here tonight, little ant. Go back to the palace.”

“ You believe I planned your humiliation? Me? That sounds like work.”

“Kiss me again, Kiss me until I am sick of it.”

“If you’re the sickness, I suppose you can’t also be the cure.”

“It seems I have a singular taste for women who threaten me.”

“The three of you have one solution to every problem. Murder. No key fits every lock.”

“Yes, my great villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can”

“Marry me, Become the Queen of Elfhame.”

“I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.”

"I urge you: Come be angry at nearer distance."

"Come home. Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must. Just come home."

"Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments."

„ As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you alone in my chambers.”

„Do not touch her.”

"She is my wife, The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile."

"Although I am wearing the cloak Mother Marrow made me, the one that will turn any blade, I still promise to run, tail between my legs. And since I have a tail, that should be amusing for everyone. Are you satisfied?”

"I assume you weren’t actually trying to shoot me, since the note was in your handwriting.”

„It was terrifying, watching you fall. I mean, you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.”

"Not you, You never break.”

„Pardoned by the crown. Meaning by The King Of Faerie. Or its queen. You could have returned anytime you wanted."

„There was a prophecy given when I was born. Usually Baphen is uselessly vague, but in this case, he made it clear that should I rule, I would make a very poor king. The destruction of the crown, the ruination of the throne- a lot of dramatic language. (..) I never minded being a minor villain, but it’s possible I might have grown into something else, a High King as monstrous as Dain. And if I did- if I fulfilled that prophecy- I ought to be stopped. And I believe that you would stop me.”

"Would you like me to inform the Council that you will see them another time? It will be a novelty to have me make your excuses.”

"No, no, enough. It’s all too tedious to explain. I declare this meeting at an end. Leave us. I tire of the lot of you.”

„This is my room, and that’s my wife."

„Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game"

”To you, I offer honey wine and the hospitality of my table. But to traitors and oath breakers, I offer my queen’s hospitality instead. The hospitality of knives.”

"You looked like a knight in a story tonight. Possibly a filthy story."

„Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips. By you, I am forever undone.”

"No, What YOU want.”

"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."

"It's you I love, I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours. You probably guessed as much, but just in case you didn’t."

"A King is not his crown."

" I am the High King, and I do not forfeit that title to you, not for a sword or a show or my pride. It is worth more than any of those things. Besides which, two rulers stand before you. And even had you cut me down, one would remain.”

"But vows should never be to a crown. They should be to a ruler. And they should be of your own free will. I am your king, and beside me stands my queen. But it is your choice whether or not to follow us. Your will shall be your own.”

„I haven’t worn anything in days, I don’t see why I ought to start now.”

"Tomorrow, Or the next day. Or perhaps next week.” And with that, he rises, takes a long drink from his goblet, sets it down on the table, and walk to where I sit. ”Will you dance?”

"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear those words, You don’t want me dead."

„You need not say it out of pity, or because I was under a curse. I have asked you to lie to me in the past, in this very room, but I would beg you not to lie now."

„Because I am clever and funny, You didn’t mention my handsomeness.”

„It was like being trapped in the dark. I was alone, any my instinct was to lash out. I was perhaps not entirely an animal, but neither was I myself. I could not reason. There were only feelings- hatred and terror and the desire to destroy. And you. I knew little else, but I always knew you.”

"He ought to have paid you in gold.”

“And scheming great schemes.”

“I didn’t enjoy being a snake, and yet I appear to be doomed to be reminded of it for all eternity, the excess of songs hasn’t helped, nor has their longevity. It’s been what? Eight years? Nine? Truly, the celebratory air about the whole business has been excessive. You’d think I never did a more popular thing than sit in the dark on a throne and bite people who annoyed me. I could have always done that. I could do that now.”

“I could try. A small bite. Just to see if someone would write a song about it.”

“Seems hard on pointy boots, kicking buckets.”

“If I didn’t know better, I might think this is your brother’s fault. First, he wanted you to be nice to that little queen with the sharp teeth and the crazy eyes. Then he wanted you to forgive that former falcon his bodyguard likes for trying to murder me. It seems too great a coincidence that Hyacinthe came from Lady Nore, spent time with Madoc, and had no hand in his abduction.”

“All the obscene snake songs must have been greatly distracting. Generosity of spirit is so uncharacteristic in you.”

“Have I ever told you how much you sound like Madoc when you talk about murder? Because you do.”

“That you’re terrifying? I adore it.”

“And you, Queen Suren of the former Court of Teeth. You’ve changed quite a bit, but then you would have, I suppose. Felicitations on the murder of your mother.”

“Their dim view of treaties gives me a dim view of them. We will give Nicasia aid, as she once aided us, and as we swore to do.”

“Or?”

“Oh, very well, I will be the one to ask the obvious question—what have you there?”

“I trust that you don’t also have a cottage in your pocket. Your family is eager to spend some time with you.”

“I hate the war room.”

“Not now, imp. We have many dull adult things to do.”

“So many secrets, wife.”

“What curse?”

“Who cursed you?”

“If you’ve hurt her—”

“You bring an element of chaos to a party, don’t you? We obviously have many things to discuss regarding the future. But for now, we share a meal. Let us toast, to love.”

“Love. That force that compels us to be sometimes better and often worse. That power by which we can all be bound. That which we ought to fear and yet most desire. That which unites us this evening—and shall unite the both of you soon enough.”

“I thought that if the poison makes every part of him slow, then I could turn him into something that could live like that. But I don’t know that it will save him.”

“I don’t know,”

“You make a very good point. You had an excellent reason to try to kill him. But did you?”

“I am losing patience almost as fast as I am losing blood. Just because your brother killed Randalin, it doesn’t mean we should forget he was at the center of this conspiracy—and that he is at the center of whatever Bogdana and Wren are planning. I suggest that we lock Oak up where he won’t be so tempting to traitors.”

“Ah, but he had loftier ambitions.”

“I think it’s time to get off this isle.”

“Kill him. Very well, truss up Hyacinthe. Find the girl and the hag and kill them, at least. And I want the prince locked up until we sort this out. Lock up Tiernan, too, if he ever comes back.”

“Another protestation of her innocence? Or yours?”

“I hate being unwell.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

“Speaking of which, I would speak with Oak for a moment. Alone.”

“Pour me a goblet of wine, won’t you? Or I could get it myself.”

“You have done enough and more than enough explaining. I think it is my turn to speak.”

“For someone who cannot outright lie, you twist the truth so far that I am surprised it doesn’t cry out in agony. Which makes perfect sense, given your father . . . and your sister. But you’ve even managed to deceive her. Which she doesn’t like admitting— doesn’t like, period, really.”

“No, I don’t suspect you of wanting to be High King, nor did I believe you wanted me dead for some other reason. I never thought that.”

“When your first bodyguard tried to kill you, I ought to have asked more questions. Certainly after one or two of your lovers died. But I thought what everyone else thought—that you were too trusting and easily manipulated as a result. That you chose your friends poorly and your lovers even more poorly. But you chose both carefully and well, didn’t you?”

“Having spent a great deal of time playing the fool myself, I recognized your game. Not at first, but long before Jude. She didn’t want to believe me, and I am never going to tire of crowing about being right.”

“But I wasn’t certain which of your allies were actually on your side. And I was rather hoping you’d let us lock you up and protect you.”

“I have little experience of dispensing brotherly wisdom, but I know a great deal about mistakes. And about hiding behind a mask. Some might say that I still do, but they would be wrong. To those I love, I am myself. Too much myself sometimes.”

“I knew what you were up to before she did. And if you decide you want to risk your life, perhaps you could also risk a little personal discomfort and let your family in on your plans.”

“You may recall that Jude gave you permission to abdicate? Well, that’s all well and good, but you can’t do it immediately. We’ll need several months more of your being our heir.”

“A diplomatic mission. After that last little rescue, Nicasia has demanded we honor our treaty, meet her suitors, and witness the contest for her hand and crown. And so Jude and I are headed to the Undersea, where we will go to a lot of parties and try very hard not to die.”

my TFOTA MUSIC SPOTIFY PLAYLIST:

https://at.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/books-tfota-jurdan-thecruelprince/twqmspfqh1pw

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3dmMpocWt6Z6lB2r4MCoS0?si=caa463224d274441

684 notes · View notes

toointofiction · 3 years

Text

How The Queen of Elfhame Learned to Deal with Insufferable Idiots

Hey, cuties!! I have been thinking of writing this little one-shot for a while now and I finally did. Check it out on the link below or keep reading and let me know what you think.

Pairing: Jurdan; Cardan x Jude

Genre: Romance

Rating: Explicit/Mature

Summary: Jude is pissed off and with no other way to let off steam, Cardan comes up with a creative and very effective idea.

Jude is pissed. She’s about two seconds away from running someone through with her sword. Or maybe severing their head from their shoulders. Or arranging a public mass execution. Anything sounds good at the moment. How is it that the entirety of her Living Council consists of idiots recklessly testing her patience? She can practically feel her sword-hand itching and twitching in anticipation. Is it too much to ask for a little competence? Sometimes it’s as if their sole purpose is to enrage her to the point where the only coherent thoughts she has, are homicidal ones.

Fuming, Jude stalks back to her bedchambers, Cardan effortlessly matching her pace. He has an amused look on his handsome face, stealing glances at her every now and then. As if none of what just happened had any sort of effect on him. He should not be having this much fun at her expense. Especially, right now. He is putting his life in danger. Her King seems to think that just because she loves him, he is somehow safe from her wrath. Which may or may not be true, Jude thinks.

She cannot count the times Cardan angered her. More often than those idiots. She seems to recall the time he thought to confront a vicious troll all on his own, with no proper training, protection, or backup. In the middle of the night. She also remembers finding him on the ground, bleeding, and dizzy from iron poisoning. She had been absolutely furious then. She told herself that as soon as he healed, he would get an earful. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him. She scolded him, of course. What he did was completely idiotic, but her anger faded quickly. All she felt was relief that he was okay. That the injuries he sustained weren’t serious or life-threatening. Still, it needed about a whole week for the iron to leave his system. The same cannot be said for her Living Council, however. She still wants to kill them, and she doubts her anger will fade any time soon.

Normally, when Jude is this angry, she takes it out on training with the Court of Shadows. To her misfortune, however, she sent them all on a mission two days ago. Just my luck. Jude signs audibly and raises her hand to her temple which feels just about ready to crack open from unrelenting pressure. She must start making some serious personnel changes, otherwise, they’ll soon have to rename it the Dead Council. She also needs to find a way to let go of her anger somehow, before she does something drastic and irreversible. Her King isn’t too keen on the way she likes to solve problems. Even if that way is more than called for sometimes. It’s at that moment that she feels Cardan’s slender arm wrap around her waist, and his lips graze the top of her head.

“Come on, I can help you relax.”

“Nothing can help me relax, now.”

“Don’t start making assumptions just yet,” he responds. His eyes shine in amusement, a small, mischievous smile grazes his lips.

With one arm still around her waist, he uses the other to open the door to their bedchamber and guide her through. As she walks ahead of him and slumps on the bed, she hears him whisper to the guards outside not to allow anyone to disturb them. What is he up to? Jude didn’t have to wonder for long. Cardan appears in front of her, that mischievous smile still on his lips, places his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her back on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’ll help you relax.”

With that, he leans down and gives her a deep, long kiss. Just way he knows she likes it. She feels his hands on her knees, dragging the material of her dress up. Higher and higher until he has to stop and pull the whole thing off her. As soon as the dress is off, he is back to kissing her lips, her neck, right between her breasts. She can feel his hand moving from her ribs to her breast, squeezing lightly, playing with her nipple. The other, he guides right between her legs, squeezing her once before he gently, torturously stroking her, making her legs twitch. Jude lets out an involuntary moan. She can feel him grinning against her skin. Smug bastard. Before she can even muster a word, he pushed a finger inside of her, making her thoughts scatter away from her, another moan, a very loud one, escapes her lips.

“Okay, fine,” she breaths out. “This is relaxing.”

“I told you.”

His mouth moves to one breast as he pushes another finger inside her. She arches her back, squeezing his hand between her thighs. She tangles her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, feeling his groan deep into her core. She’s not going to last long. He seems to realise this. His hand moves frantically between her thighs, his thumb pressing on her clit. He abandons her breast and gives her another deep kiss as she falls over the edge. Her climax hits her hard. Cardan keeps on kissing her, swallowing her scream. He enjoys making her lose all control. She knows this and it should probably annoy her a little bit. But how could it, when losing control feels so damn good.

She tries to catch her breath after the last of her orgasm fades away. Cardan doesn’t let her, though. He never does. He guides his lips between her breasts again, over her belly, until she feels him between her thighs, still sensitive from the last orgasm. He gives her a gentle kiss that sends shocks through her body, before he starts to feast on her, aggressive and wild. Jude feels another climax coming. Her muscles tense, her eyes locked on her husband, her King as he drives her over the edge again. She wraps her legs around Cardan’s head like an unbreakable collar, pushes both hands into his hair, gripping him in place. If he stops right now, she’s going to be angry again. A few short moments pass, and she falls over the edge again. She moans loudly, knows that the guards outside can definitely hear her, but she doesn’t care. Not when Cardan’s mouth is still on her, helping her ride out her orgasm.

A few moments pass by, as Jude tries to catch her breath. Cardan lets her this time. He rises up the length of her body, that smug expression still on his face. He kisses her once more and she tastes herself in his mouth. He lays next to her, wraps an arm around her limp body, and pulls her to him.

“I guess I don’t have to train my anger away, anymore.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cardan says, dropping a kiss at the top of her head.

A thought pops up inside Jude’s head, and she can feel her mouth stretching into a wicked smile. She turns to face Cardan, “I should probably reciprocate now, right?”

Cardan grins like a Cheshire cat and with a slap on her ass he responds, “I guess you should.”

59 notes · View notes

adxmparriish · 3 years

Text

don't you know (part one) - read on ao3

writer: lizziebxnnet pairing: cardan greenbriar/jude duarte word count: 3.5k rating: explicit tw: possessive behavior, impact play, light bondage, begging, orgasm control

PART TWO -> PART THREE -> PART FOUR

Two people who both love to have control. One girl, one boy, and endless opportunities. How hot can they fan the flames?

FIC AND TAG LIST UNDER THE CUT

if you want to be added so you don't miss future parts, send me an ask

The party is in full swing when Jude and Cardan arrive.

Nicasia has gone all out. Twinkling lights dangle from every surface, causing shadows to dance across the room. Blue streamers of every shade hang from the ceiling, making the entire house look like it’s underwater. She’s even placed seashells on coffee tables, bookshelves, and kitchen counters. Drinks are served out of fish bowls or bright blue solo cups.

Some people are dressed on theme, while others aren’t. Jude and Cardan voted to keep their regular clothes, but several people are wearing sailor costumes, or going as far to wear a mermaid tail. One of those people is Nicasia herself, who has shown up looking like Princess Ariel, vibrant red hair and all.

Music pumps through the speakers, and dancers crowd the living room. Jude scans the room and finds Taryn and Vivi in a corner by themselves. Her twin waves to her when they meet eyes, and Jude returns the gesture.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Cardan laments.

“It’s her birthday,” Jude replies, like it solves the problem. She knows very well that it doesn’t.

Her boyfriend places his hand on her lower back and pulls her close, leaning down to whisper into her ear.

“Doesn’t make her look any less ludicrous.”

“Maybe so,” she says, turning to look him in the eyes, “but we are going to have fun regardless, aren’t we?”

Cardan simply sighs.

He doesn’t move his hand from the small of her back as he leads them to the kitchen. Several fish bowls sit on the counter, all labeled with increasingly insane names. A Little Dinghy, Siren’s Blood, and Sex with the Captain all gleam brightly from their bowls. Siren’s Blood captures her attention with it’s vibrant red color, so Jude pours herself a cup. Cardan grabs some Sex with the Captain, because of course he does.

“About time you guys made it,” Taryn says when they finally join them.

“We were beginning to wonder if you were going to show up,” Vivi replies.

“I didn’t want to,” Cardan says flatly.

Cardan and Nicasia’s history is rocky and fuzzy, full of so many twists and turns that Jude has a hard time keeping up. They had a thing in the past, which Nicasia always says was nothing serious but Cardan disagrees. He’s told Jude she cheated, which she denies, claiming they were on a break. They’ve mostly moved past it, but when Cardan is in a bad mood or simply feeling salty, he likes to mope about it. Jude lets him.

“Your bad attitude won’t be tolerated at my birthday,” Nicasia retorts, flinging her fake red hair over her shoulder as she approaches the group.

Cardan doesn’t bother with a response, just takes a swig of his drink and looks away, his face bored and annoyed.

“Anyway,” Nicasia continues, looking to everyone else, “this entire house is about to become a dance floor. I’ve got Locke setting up the music.”

As if on cue, someone turns down the lights and music begins blaring through all the speakers in the house. With the lights so low, Jude can barely make out the faces in front of her, and the music is so loud it’s disorientating. A weird, techno remix version of Part of Your World plays at full blast. Nicasia grabs Taryn’s hand, as well as Jude’s, and pulls them both to the floor.

A few mermaid tails hit Jude’s legs and knees, and someone to her left plops a sailor hat on her head. Taryn is laughing at something Nicasia says. Bodies cram together in the slightly small space of the living room. Everyone is moving and there’s alcohol floating through her veins; Jude feels a piece of herself just let go and she drains the rest of her drink, throws the cup down, and turns to the first person she sees to start dancing.

It’s Locke.

She’d rather it be Cardan, but she doesn’t see him anywhere near her. Locke’s hands make their way to her waist, and he grips her tightly before pulling her in. They’re too close, Jude’s too hot, and Locke is looking at her like he wants to eat her alive. She takes that feeling she sees and plays with it, smirking at him before she wraps her arms around his neck. She sways her hips, lowers her eyes, and flings her hair over her shoulder.

Their hips meet in the middle. Locke bends down to whisper in her ear, something she can barely hear, and when she turns her head, inky black eyes meet hers across the room. A fire is inside them, alive and angry and domineering. His sharp jaw is tight with how hard he’s clenching it. All of it ignites a spark inside Jude, a dangerous one, but one that she wants to fan and see how hot the flames can get.

She smiles at Cardan, wicked and sly, before turning away to face Locke again.

She wants to see how far she can push Cardan, how jealous and possessive he can get. A switch has flipped inside her; one that doesn’t flip often but when it does, the game that follows is always fun. Jude has always been a dominant woman, especially with Cardan, but she has also found that she likes to submit, to lose control and have someone else take the reins. She has also discovered a taste for pain, for the sting of a hand or the pressure of a palm around her throat.

She supposes if it’s Cardan’s delicate grip, his long ringed fingers wrapped around the column of her neck, she’d let him hold her down forever until she knew of nothing else.

That’s the last thought that crosses her mind before the same hands rip Locke’s palms from her hips and push him away, a snarl ripping from his mouth as he does. A warmth spreads through Jude, from her head to the space between her thighs. Adrenaline races in her bloodstream, and when Cardan’s eyes meet hers again, she almost climbs him in the middle of the living room.

When that possessiveness she craves heats his gaze, she is at his disposal. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to keep it there, to know she’s his.

Cardan pulls her into him so their chests are flush, and Jude gasps when his raspy voice trails into her ear, drowning out the music in the background.

“If you want someone’s hands all over you so badly, meet me at the car. Five minutes.”

He leaves her standing in the middle of the room, gaping like a fool, and exits through the front door.

“What the fuck was that about?”

Jude turns to see Locke, still somehow standing near her and ready to pick up where they left off. He moves to touch her but she steps sideways. He frowns.

Without another word, she flings the hat from her head and rushes to the front door to walk outside. It’s deserted and dark, with only the lights from the open windows bleeding into the lawn. There are cars parked everywhere, all of them empty. She files through them, her heart racing with nerves, until she finds Cardan leaning against his own, one leg propped up behind him against the back tire.

He’s so beautiful, sometimes it hurts to breathe. Jude stops feet away and simply stares, taking him in. He’s wearing his trademark black skinny jeans with a sheer, flowery top. He decided against an undershirt, so his skin underneath is on display. Through the ridiculous fabric, she can see his nipple rings gleaming in the moonlight. His black hair is artfully messy, and dark khol lines his eyes.

She wants nothing more than to ride him into oblivion, but she feels like what she wants isn’t in the cards. She trembles with anxious delight.

“Come here,” he orders and she obeys, closing the little distance between them.

Everything between them is pulled tight, just waiting for one of them to snap and break it.

Cardan opens the back door to the car, climbs in the back seat, and pulls Jude in after him, yanking the door closed behind her. She falls forward and lands across his lap. His already half-hard erection pokes into her stomach and she squirms. Immediately, he pins her down with his strong hand across her back. She stills under his touch.

“You’ve been so bad, Jude.”

His voice is laced with honey and violence, sugar and sin. Every bit of Jude thrums for him, waiting for his next move. His hand moves, skimming down her back and down to her ass, her thighs. He rubs her hot skin, just enough to tease. His fingers trail underneath her skirt, so close to her core, and she squirms again just to spite him.

It earns her a hard slap across the bottom of her ass cheek.

She yelps as it connects, stinging in the most painful, pleasing way. Her breath picks up and her face warms, her already tan skin turning cherry red.

“Be still, kitten,” Cardan says, rubbing the place he just smacked with his hand.

His fingers trail to her core again, ghosting across her pantyline. She can hardly breathe, itching and waiting for him to really touch her.

“I bet you liked it when Locke had his hands all over you, didn’t you?” Cardan asks, his touch turning possessive.

He cups her center, the tip of his finger pressing against her clit. Jude gasps at the touch, shifts her hips to get more pressure.

“Answer me,” he growls, adding the pressure she so desires. It takes all her effort not to cry out, to beg him to move her underwear and touch her how she wants.

“Yes,” she finally says.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cardan removes her underwear and tosses them to the floorboards. The cool air of the car hits her center and she shivers. Her boyfriend leans down next to ear and bites her earlobe roughly, making her cry out.

“No one else is allowed to touch you, do you understand?” One of Cardan’s deliciously long fingers penetrates her, and she moans low. “You’re mine.”

He fingers her rough, curling his fingers and caressing the sweet spot inside her that makes Jude arch her back like a bow. His other hand presses her down the entire time, pinning her beneath him so she can’t twist in his grip. His touch is almost torture, but a bittersweet pain that she loves to hate.

Almost as soon as he begins, he stops. His wet fingers squeeze her thighs, and she keens, silently begging for more.

“What sort of punishment do you deserve, kitten?” Cardan asks, still tracing the skin along the back of her legs. She wants him to stop, wants him to keep going, wants him to touch her cunt until she’s screaming his name.

When she doesn’t answer, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. She fumbles for an answer.

“Anything, sir. Anything you see fit.”

In response, he lifts her skirt and flips it over her lower back. She can feel the heat of his eyes on her, the tension in the stale air of the car, his possessive grip on the back of her knee. She tingles in anticipation, almost giddy for what’s to come.

“Maybe a spanking will teach you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Jude’s body shifts as he lifts his hips. She turns her head to watch as Cardan removes his belt, the leather popping as it moves through the loops of his black jeans. He grins at her, a wicked turn of the lips that leaves her breathless, before leaning forward and grabbing her hands.

“Give me your safe word,” he says.

She lifts her eyes and swallows. “Mercy.”

“Don’t be afraid to use it.”

He wraps her hands in the belt, pulling it taut before securing it. Jude tries to loosen her hands but can’t, so she grabs the handle of the car door and holds tight. Her hands shake in anticipation, her heart pounds with pure adrenaline.

“How does 25 sound?” Jude nods her head, ready to submit.

“Count for me, kitten.”

The first hit to her bare backside sets off electricity in her veins. Everything inside her body sings as she gasps at the sensation. She almost smiles at the sting, at the release of all the tension she’s been holding.

“One,” she breathes.

Another blow lands on her other cheek, much harder than the last. She counts, and Cardan hits - over and over. Each hit stings a little worse, her skin turning pink and growing raw. Everything inside Jude’s mind clears and she feels nothing but this. She’s only the bite of his hand, the surprise of each blow, the sweet pain that blossoms across her skin. Each hit brings a wave of pleasure with the hurt, and she can feel herself getting wetter as time goes by.

When he hits the top of her thigh, right where her ass ends, she moans. When he lands a particularly hard slap and his fingers graze her cunt, she almost screams. She yanks at her restraint, desperate for some kind of relief, but comes up short. She wants to beg him to stop, beg him to spank her until his hand goes numb, beg him to fuck her until she doesn’t even know her own name.

Jude has never been religious, never one to believe in any higher power. But when she’s underneath Cardan’s hand, in his lap, choking with his fingers around her throat, Cardan is her God. He is everything - the thing that keeps her grounded, the one anchor that holds her together, that makes her feel like she has a purpose. He is her religion and her church, and she’ll bend her knees to him every time.

When she gasps out the number on the twentieth hit, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her emotions run wild, clawing at her throat and threatening to release. Cardan’s hands move from her ass and dance along her inner thighs, and he hums when he feels her desire sliding down her skin. She can feel his own pleasure underneath her, his cock straining against the inside of his jeans.

Two fingers enter her, and Jude chokes. He is relentless with his ministrations, driving her to insanity. Cardan’s other hand swats at her backside as he touches her, and she sobs, hot tears finally falling from her eyes. Everything inside her breaks in the most beautiful way, so much emotion, pleasure, and desire deep in her bones that it’s the only way she can release it.

Cardan pulls free and she whimpers, the feeling of his fingers gone and leaving her empty. She wiggles her ass, but rather than slap one of the cheeks, he pushes them both up with one hand and lands a heavy blow on her cunt.

Jude screams, the pain sweet and raw and breathtaking. She wants him to do it again so badly she can’t think straight.

“When I tell you to count, do it.” Cardan’s voice is low, laced with venom.

It’s only then that she remembers she missed one, his skilled fingers distracting her and making her forget. The submissive side of her is ashamed, wanting so badly to please Cardan. The other side wants to forget again just to feel the sweet sting of his palm on her clit.

“Twenty-one, sir.”

“Good kitten.”

Jude almost purrs at the praise, and then another hard smack hits the swell of her ass and she whines instead.

Three more breathtaking blows land on her backside, the last number leaving her throat in a shaky cry. She feels like she’s floating on a cloud, high above the scene playing out in the back seat of Cardan’s car. Instead of on leather seats, she’s in heaven with her favorite boy’s hands cradling her ass and leaving red imprints in their wake. She trembles in his touch, the pain settling into more of an ache as the impacts stop.

Every inch of her skin is on fire, liquid heat bubbling in her veins. She’s out of touch when soft hands grab her fingers and pry them from the door handle. Then, those same hands clutch her waist and turn her over so her back hits the seat. She tries to open her eyes but can’t. She’s too overwhelmed, too overstimulated.

“You were so good,” Cardan murmurs, his breath warming her lips as he hovers over her.

Jude wants to look into his eyes, the steamy black of his gaze, but everything is too heavy, too warm. She tries to move her arms but remembers her restraints and whines. Cardan chuckles, and she feels him shift to take the belt off.

Lips touch her wrists when the belt is untied, kissing away any pain that was there.

“How about a reward for being such a good girl?” Cardan asks.

A featherlight touch grazes her center and once again, Jude is on fire, overstimulated, inundated.

“You’re so wet, all for me,” Cardan breathes into her mouth before finally, finally, kissing her.

Jude relents to his good graces, lets herself be completely consumed by him. He isn’t shy or careful, kissing her filthy and thoroughly. His fingers play with her while his tongue searches her mouth and his teeth nip at her lip.

“Did my hand do that to you? You’re filthy, kitten,” he says, and Jude shivers.

“Cardan, please,” she moans, bucking against the hand that’s still touching her, still torturing her by circling her clit with slow and steady motions.

“Please what?” he teases.

She doesn’t even know what she’s begging for - all she knows is that if he doesn’t do something soon, she’s going to lose herself. His slow fingers grazing her, just barely there, is driving her to madness.

He starts trailing kisses down her neck, her breasts, her stomach until he’s hovering over her core. Jude finally manages to open her eyes long enough to see him staring directly back at her, his eyes hungry.

He’s going to devour her. She can’t wait.

He licks at her, a fat solid stripe right down her center, and everything in Jude’s brain short circuits.

“You can touch,” Cardan says, his voice muffled as he tastes her again. She doesn’t hesitate.

Her hands grab his hair and yank, earning a moan of her own from her boyfriend’s mouth. He dives in, not bothering to come up for air as he licks at her. Jude is delirious with pleasure, and when Cardan’s nails drag down the raw skin of her freshly beaten ass, her moan could rattle the windows. She burns and writhes and cries, everything beginning to build at the base of her spine.

His teeth nip at her. His tongue teases her. She pulls his hair and drags him closer, so close she isn’t sure how he breathes. He might be the one in control, but at this moment, she holds the remote. Everything happening is about her - her pleasure, her release.

But during these moments, when Cardan is in control, her release is in his hands. Which is why, when she feels like she can’t keep it at bay any longer, she begs.

“Please, sir. Let me come.”

Cardan curls his fingers, grazing a spot inside her that takes her breath away, and she fights the urge to come undone immediately, to disobey one of his only wishes. Never come without my permission.

“Now, Jude.”

Jude comes alive like a firecracker exploding in the sky. Everything releases, and she rides Cardan’s mouth through all of it. She’s so loud it should be embarrassing, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t have any room inside herself for anything other than Cardan’s tongue, his hands, and his controlling voice finally telling her she can let go.

The aftershocks ebb and then die. Cardan lifts himself up and kisses her again, her own bitter taste on his tongue making her groan into his mouth. She’s just been eaten alive, her ass beaten until it’s red but she still craves more, more, more. It’s the same since she first met him all those years ago, when his name ran through her mind like a refrain: Cardan, Cardan, Cardan, Cardan.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters. “I love you, Jude.”

She mumbles the words back, finally able to open her eyes and look back at him, and Cardan merely laughs softly. Everything is heavy and warm, and she hurts in the best way possible.

“Let’s go home,” he says. “Will you be alright until we get there?”

Jude nods, and together they climb into the front seat. Their long limbs tangle together, making them giggle, until they’re settled and ready. Cardan starts the car, then reaches over and grabs her hand across the center console, squeezing her fingers. Jude smiles at him, which he returns. These soft moments after their scenes are what Jude lives for - easy smiles after hard looks, soft hands held tight that once caused pain; it all mixes together into something like home.

They pull out of the yard and onto the road. Streetlights flicker as they drive past, casting yellow light through the windows. In the darkness of the car, with nothing but the weight of Cardan’s hand in hers, Jude falls asleep against the window thinking of the sweet punishment she is sure to inflict on Cardan soon enough.

@hazelsheartsworn @figonas @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @ncstas @kingandfireheart @laequiem @jurdannet

#jurdan #jurdannet #the folk of the air #tfota #jurdan fic #jurdan fanfic #jurdan fanfiction #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #tfota fic #tfota fanfic #jude x cardan #my fic

137 notes · View notes