#( and i was just sitting there today and thinking that cardan liked her the most because she was the least horrible sibling to him and -

[cruelprincae]

The Greenbriar siblings are at each other's throats trying to best each other by faking being nice to other powerful Folk in order to gain them as allies to prove to Eldred they'd be a good monarch when he passes the crown and Cardan is just sitting there, giving no fucks and sipping on his fairie wine and just. . . making actual friends out of the court's royals.

[beloved-daydreams]

"Her pet"

⚠️Warning⚠️ a spicy Jurdan fic! So minors do not interact please!

It starts off really fluffy and despite the heat in the later part I tried my best to keep it fairly soft and mindful. BUT it does contain some bdsm-like elements (being tied up and blindfolded but I promise there’s no physical "violence" or like, "roughness" I suppose is a better term?)

It has some vulnerability and a liiittle bit of crying but in a good way ;)

Anyway, you just gotta trust me with this one. I think I managed to keep things rather cute and tasteful though I’m sure in a few days I’ll feel stupid for writing this. ❤️🫠

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎

Cardan was laying down on the bed as if it were a flowery meadow. Which, well, it was a bed of flowers but not quite literally a grassland. The High King was waiting for his wife to finish bathing, he had offered to wash up with her or even to wash her back but she would turn him down everytime. Pointing out how he would immediately start to snuggle up against her and lead things to go haywire.

Sick of waiting, Cardan walked up to the bathroom door. And just as he was about to go in, Jude walked out of the room, almost hitting him in the face with the door. Realizing what her dear husband was about to do, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, giving him a disapproving look.

"You know, sometimes I really wish I could still command you."

Unfazed by the comment, Cardan answered assuredly.

"Oh interesting, what would you make me do? Shall I swear an oath to you again just for tonight?"

"Ugh." Jude pushed Cardan aside, making her way towards her dresser and sitting down to brush her hair. "Whatever it is you’re thinking about, I know I don’t need an oath to make you do it since you would obey me gladly for anything that would feed your fantasies."

He smiled, thinking how his wife knows him so well. Then he followed her to the dresser, standing behind her.

"Allow me."

Snatching the brush away from her hand, the King started to lovingly brush his Queen’s beautiful hair. Sometimes his hands would brush against her neck, though most times it was done willingly and Jude knew that instinctively, yet she let him do it nonetheless. Since she liked how gentle his hands were when he took care of her. It was almost therapeutic… if it weren’t for the few times her hair would be too tangled and result in her quietly wincing at some of his brush strokes.

"...Would you do something for me as well?" Cardan mutters, yet Jude catches it clearly.

"Of course. Would you like me to brush your hair as well? Although…" Jude looks at his reflection in the mirror. Slick as always. "It doesn’t look like it needs much brushing at the moment."

"No, not that… my back is what would need some of your help."

Now that Jude thinks about it, she has never clearly seen his bare back, since the only times he was shirtless, she would usually be facing him…

"...What is it? Don’t tell me you’ve got back pains?"

"Mmh… Something like that."

Worried, Jude’s gaze shifts to the ground, remembering how Balekin treated him. And how she never told him about it. She reasoned with herself, convincing herself that there was absolutely no need for her to bring up his past to him again… unless he would be the one to bring it back first. In that case, she felt like she had to tell him. She didn’t want to omit information like this.

And as she had thought, that day was today. Cardan let his shirt drop to the floor, turning his back to her, allowing her to see the state it was in. It had small marks all over which was concerning since the Fae are much more resistant to scarring, in fact, they almost never scar at all. The only way for them to get a scar is if the same spot is abnormally hit over and over again and not taken care of, which practically never happens. Since treating a wound right away is the natural thing to do. Seeing how his back was in this state, Jude came to the conclusion that Cardan at some point just gave up on trying to heal the wounds, knowing that the same thing would keep happening.

"I consulted a Faerie who has a knack for medicine. They said that I should apply-" Cardan hands over something that looks like a weird cross between honey and condensed milk. "This lotion. Apparently, it could possibly even heal old wounds."

Taking the container into her hands, Jude looks into Cardan’s eyes, touched that he would ask that of her.

"I see. Go lay down on the bed then, I’ll apply it."

Leaning over, not only does she apply the lotion, she gives him a light massage while she’s at it. Hoping that it will somehow make her following words less hurtful.

"...It was all Balekin’s doing, wasn’t it? Back when I was working undercover for Dain, I saw how he treated you... Um. Unwillingly, of course."

Cardan stays silent for a moment, before uttering a simple and calm. "I see." Which takes Jude off guard.

"That’s it? You’re not mad?"

"What is there to be mad about? I always knew there was a possibility that you had witnessed it since you even found that damned paper." The one with her name, written down over and over again. Obsessively. "Besides, at this point you’ve seen me in all of my lowest moments. This one is only a trace of the past I’d like to erase from my back… Well, quite literally."

Jude laughs seeing how he still has a sense of humor at a time like this. But she still appreciates the honesty, and his attempt at lightening up the mood. And although she can’t see it, she feels his tail flailing behind her. Either because of his nervousness at showing his vulnerability, or her massage is just that good. She doubts it, though it’s probably a bit of both.

Suddenly, a ridiculous idea pops up in her head. Most likely because she wants to make him feel comfortable. To please him.

"Cardan dear?"

She takes on that sweet tone. The one Cardan recognizes as a very favorable signal to some filthy doings in their private chambers. He knows that tone and gets giddy, only hearing it is enough to get him thrilled.

"Yes, my Queen of mischievousness?"

Already exasperated, Jude lightly taps him on the head.

"Would you let me tie you up?"

A bit taken aback, Cardan turns his head to the side, trying to see Jude’s face. Which she disallows by placing her palm on his eyes, blocking the view of her red cheeks. Despite the offer, Jude was still a bit shy from saying such things.

"As well as your eyes and your mouth. I’ll cover them. Would you agree?"

Cardans grins, his eyes still covered by her hand.

"Just as you said earlier my sweet Jude: I would gladly agree to anything of the sort."

From then on, things are a bit blurred. Jude digs through their wardrobe and room, in search of cloth that can be used to cover his eyes and something to tie his mouth with, so that he can still sort of get sounds out without being able to talk. And finally, for the rope she settles for a thick lace used for corsets. All she needs is to tie them well around his wrists and it’ll do the work.

Cardan undresses himself and lets himself be tied and covered obediently, not even asking what she plans on doing with him. Or to him. In truth, the answer to that question, Jude wouldn’t even know it herself. She just wants to see him unable to move freely, helpless under her gaze, her touch, her words. Whatever they will turn out to be in the moment.

As he’s finally there in front of her, his knees on the bed, hands tied behind his back, eyes and mouth covered, he’s completely at her mercy, yet Jude gets nervous and confused. She wonders what he expects of her or if he has any expectations at all. And if he did, what would they be? She has nothing ready, nothing clear in her mind. It’s all jumbled together in a mush of anxiety and craving. Thus she decides to test the waters, starting slow. Letting her body and instincts do the thinking.

As she slowly slides a single finger down his arm, she can feel him shiver at the contact. Gaining in confidence, she crawls on the bed and makes her way behind him, placing her hands around his shoulders. She rests a soft kiss on one of the small scars on his back, then another. And another. And everytime, Cardan tenses up a bit, almost as if he can’t breathe when she does that.

Gently, Jude starts talking. She’s not sure why she feels the need to, but she lets the words spill anyway.

"Humans say that if you kiss a wound, it will heal faster. It’s just a saying but…" She sneaks in a kiss again. "I hope the lotion will work. But even if it doesn’t, I’ll keep kissing your scars forever. Would you like that?"

Shyly, Cardan nods and as he does, Jude swears she can make out a wet spot on his blindfold.

"Cardan…?"

He slouches a bit, and although Jude has never seen him do that, she takes a guess.

"Cardan… Are you crying?"

His silence speaks volumes and Jude’s heart drops.

"Oh honey. I’m so sorry, should I stop?"

Yet as she makes that offer, Cardan shakes his head immediately in strong disapproval with the idea.

"Are you sure? We can stop anytime."

He nods and Jude raises her hand , running her hand through his hair, what she hopes to be a comforting touch.

"Okay. If you ever feel like stopping just… hit me with your tail or something." She wraps her hands around him, taking him into a warm embrace. As she does, it feels as if all the tension has left his body. Like he’s completely giving himself up to her.

Jude doesn’t think about what she should do or what she shouldn’t do anymore. She just lets herself show him her affection as gently and as lovingly as she can. Every single one of her actions is so careful, so lovely, Cardan feels like he could drown in this much love. And how lucky he is to be drowning in it.

As Jude caresses his ear then cheek, he shamelessly nuzzles himself against her hand. As if he’s a needy animal, hungry for attention. As if he’s her pet and only hers to play with. Jude smiles, a bit full of herself seeing his complete submission to her and how he willingly cast his pride aside, acting so pathetically cute.

"Good boy."

Cardan shivers again. This time it’s more clear as the shiver even reaches his tail. It’s quite an adorable spectacle, really. And how lucky is Jude that he only performs like this for her, and no one else.

At this point, his length is begging to be touched. She purposefully avoided that area all this time, loving how frustrated and desperate he got because of it. Cheeky, she reaches for his thighs, grabbing them firmly then caressing them.

"You want me to finish you?"

Cardan nods, a whining sound coming out of his throat since he can’t really speak.

"Hmm… I don’t know, I’m quite tired of this already. Try pleading a bit?"

Without any hesitation, he grovels on the bed, his forehead against the soft fabric of their cover. Jude is baffled at how easy it was, she can’t even laugh. She just can’t, Cardan is truly adorable when he’s being honest. In fact, Jude is now certain that there is nothing cuter. She pets him, praising him for his display of sincerity. And as she does, his tail unreservedly moves from side to side, showing his gratefulness at the kind words of praise and her touch.

As he sits up, Jude guides him to her lap, allowing him to rest his head there as she extends her hand to the area down his navel. He makes a sound at the contact.

"Sorry baby, too sudden?"

Cardan strokes his cheek against her thigh, as if to assure her that it’s okay. But as he prepares for the up and down sensation of her beautiful fingers on his shaft… nothing comes. She’s not moving her hand.

"What’s wrong dear? Surely you can try to move on your own? Go on."

As if the humiliation of him groveling in front of her wasn’t enough, he’s now expected to please himself by moving his hips on his own? He squirms under her gaze, while not even knowing where it’s directed. Yet somehow, it feels so good to be watched, to be seen, to have somebody’s undivided attention on your whole being. And knowing that they love what they see. Losing himself in the moment, Cardan obediently does as he’s told. Well, not like he has any choice. Holding on that long was already unbearable, he needed to quench his craving.

So he kept moving his hips against her rough, yet still soft fingers. Holding onto her promise, Jude didn’t move her hand away, letting Cardan desperately thrust himself against her curled up hand. And as he felt himself reach the end, an embarrassing sound left his throat. Usually it had been low and rough, this time it was high and whiny. Almost like a whimpering pup. The pleasuring sensation gone, as his thoughts cleared up to what had just happened, reality finally hit him in the face and he felt mortified. He wanted to run and hide yet at the same time… A big part of him had loved it, being treated like this. Being loved like this. Making a fool of himself in front of his darling wife.

Little did he know that the wife in question had little restraint left in her as well, if at all.

"You’re so adorable Cardan. Please, give me one minute."

She climbed on top of him, riding his thigh. Rubbing herself on it like a depraved animal, just as much as he had. And as she did, she couldn’t hold back her voice either. Cardan suddenly felt regret, not being able to see her in that state, although feeling her stroking herself on him was admittedly thrilling in and of itself. And it quite literally did only take one minute. Turns out she was just as desperate as he was...

And as she finally freed and untangled him of all of his restraints, the exact same thought was in their minds.

They kissed.

[wanderingpages]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾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. 

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[mmvalentine]

What Cardan Knows | Jurdan

Canon compliant I suppose, just more post-QoN nonsense. Smut aplenty.

Cardan knows a secret about Jude.

Knows she likes to be kissed right between the shoulder blades.

Knows that if you move your lips on the vertebra that sticks out at the base of her neck, she melts like chocolate in the summer sun.

Jude has spent today, like many days, sitting on her throne like she was born there. There is something so natural in the way that she rules the fae that never came quite so easy to Cardan. He feels more comfortable next to her now than he ever thought he would. Still. He does not think he relishes the power like Jude does.

And of course Jude looks spectacular while she does it. Cardan reclines in his own throne, throwing one leg over an armrest and letting his head fall back against the back. He watches Jude, straight backed and imperious, as she hands down stern judgement for a faerie who stole a human child. She had outlawed changelings since she has been Queen, and although the folk do not like it, they abide by her word.

Cardan finds it sexy that the court is still a little afraid of Jude. Cardan finds it sexy that this sharp and unyielding ruler is his alone to unravel. Later.

Jude does not like anyone to know that she can be tender. Even now, years after she’s gained the loyalty of her court, she avoids being vulnerable. Puts on her armour every morning to meet her subjects, her advisors, and even her sisters. Oak might be an exception. And Cardan, when he knows where to fit his myriad keys.

These are not things Jude has ever told him out loud. Not even to her husband would she confess the chinks in her armour aloud. But Cardan knows anyway. Knows the secret places she keeps her softness, and delights in uncovering them when they are alone in the safety of the dark of their bedroom. Only when she is sure no one is looking does she bare her underbelly to him and let him press toothy kisses there. Cardan loves when Jude is ruthless. Cardan loves when Jude is soft.

Now Jude is sending the faerie away and the fae dislike her changing the rules. But she hands out cruelty like treats in the throne room and so they still adore her. A good public punishing is as good as trading babies. There is a hard glint in Jude’s eye as she watches him go, and then she flicks her wrist and the revelry begins once again. It’s all so simple. She looks out at the crowd with a cold boredom on her face, but Cardan knows she’s riding a high from watching her own orders executed. He also knows it turns her on like nothing else.

And so Cardan pushes himself up off his bramble throne, leans over to his wife with his back to the court, and murmurs, “take your leave my Queen, for I have business with you elsewhere.”

Jude’s lip curls when she answers, and her voice trickles like ice water over his skin. “I do not attend your bidding my Lord, I would stay to see the end of the revel.”

“Nevertheless,” Cardan says, and his fingers slide down her wrist to read her telltale pulse. “I have business with you elsewhere.”

And although Jude does delight in denying her husband, she rarely denies herself. So she rises smoothly while Cardan watches with one eyebrow raised, and allows him to take her hand and lead her into the alcove behind the throne room.

Cardan shuts the door and the noise outside suddenly chokes off. He turns and Jude is staring at him with her chin up in her regal golden gown, and she is resplendent.

“Well?” She demands. “What is it you wish to discuss so urgently?”

“First,” Cardan purrs, “I mean this to be an informal meeting, since you and I are wed and need not stand on ceremony. Let me remove your formal attire.” He walks behind her and Jude’s head turns, but she doesn’t otherwise move. Cardan’s movements are careful as he removes the heavy crown from Jude’s head; he has had his fingers bitten for this before.

But Jude does not react, so he goes for the heavy collar of gold plates she wears, unhooking the clasp and lifting it carefully from her shoulders. Next is the fastening in the back of her bodice, and even as she is undressed Jude’s spine remains as straight as the sword at her hip.

There have been times where she fucks him just like that. With steel in her eyes and Cardan’s throat between her fingers, when she holds him down with her thighs and draws his rapture from his lips like she can summon his very soul.

But today Cardan wants to pull at Jude’s threads and unspool her at his feet. So he stands behind her, and kisses her like feathers in that secret spot of hers. In between her scapulae. Traveling up toward the bones of her neck. And infinitesimally, Jude’s shoulders loosen beneath his touch.

Cardan smiles against her skin as his fingers skim the outside edge of her bare arms, and she leans her head back toward him so his lips can better reach her throat. When her eyes slide closed, Cardan pulls the tie of her skirt and it pools around her feet. He lifts her out of it and by the time her weight is in his arms, Jude is pliant against his chest.

Cardan lays Jude down on the low couch, and in the moment between kisses where his tongue lifts off her skin and his teeth touch down elsewhere, he whispers honeyed pet-names to her. "Ruthless," he calls her sweetly. He moves down her belly. "Unscrupulous. Uncompromising. Without mercy. Immovable."

At the last, he curls his tongue in the apex of her thighs, and Jude lifts her hips to his mouth with a soft cry. She is not immovable, and he knows it. His tail wraps around her ankle as her leg tries to jerk upward, and holds it in place. Cardan moves lazily, breathes steadily against the Queen and relishes in her slow undoing.

"Cardan," she whispers, and he hums with his lips on her pussy.

In fact, the real secret that Cardan knows is that Jude is not any of the things he calls her, and despite the way fae crave wickedness like opium, it is the very heart of Jude that he loves the most.

"Will you punish me, too?" Cardan asks her. His face moves up her body but one of his fingers replace his tongue inside her and Jude is not able to answer him. "If I confess my sins to you will you hand down my own judgement?"

"Did you steal any children away?" Jude manages to ask him, but her breathing is coming in short pants and her voice is strained.

"No," Cardan laments. "Although I think I would enjoy having a pet."

Jude's eyes flash, but Cardan makes one finger two and her words don't make it out.

"My sins," Cardan tells her, and then leans close to admit it in her ear while his hand speeds up between her legs. "are so numerous as to be unforgivable." He even sounds a little sad, and Jude's eyes open.

"There is always mercy," she breathes.

"Then forgive me, my saint," Cardan says, and then twists his fingers and presses down on her clit at the same time, so Jude climaxes suddenly and unexpectedly. Her lovely brown eyes widen in surprise and her lips part in bliss, and before she has come all the way down Cardan removes his fingers and slides his cock into her even as she shudders and spasms.

Cardan barely moves before Jude is coming again, and the waves of it around him are exquisitely divine. He moans his pleasure as he sinks into her again and again, and revels in the Queen laid bare. His hips kiss hers and it is in this space he finds his absolution daily. For as hard and uncaring as Jude is not, so is Cardan secretly not so unaffected or shameless as he makes out to be.

And as Jude wraps her legs around his waist, and her hands around the back of his neck pull his forehead down to hers, he wonders if this is what Jude knows, too.

Cardan moves his lips against Jude's neck and the increasingly irregular rhythm of his hips matches the erratic beating of his heart, and when Jude's teeth bite into his throat as if to suckle at his lifeblood, he comes hard buried deep inside her.

Minutes later, the King and Queen of Elfhame are still tangled together on the couch. Jude's head is on Cardan's chest and he has the sharp claw tip of a fingernail circling against her shoulder. A faint bruise is blooming on his throat, and the tip of his tail is brushing against her elbow.

"Shall we return you to the revel, my love?" Cardan asks her. Jude looks at him, then stands fluidly and holds her chin up and her arms out.

"Dress me, husband," she commands, and Cardan picks up her clothes off the floor and puts everything back on. Piece by piece, layer by layer, fingers meticulous. Pinning her hair and fastening the scabbard by her waist. Jude is still like a mannequin, and when he is done she lowers her arms and sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.

Cardan straightens his own clothes, plonks his crown back on his head and then saunters back out to the thrown room. Jude is already being offered a selection of the fattest, sweetest grapes and she spears them with a fine dagger before she puts them to her kiss-swollen lips. And when she drags the knife point back out of her mouth, he doesn't know whether he'd rather be the blade or the fruit.

Either way, he is more than content to spend the rest of the night watching Jude rule the fae with an iron fist, as his kisses fade on her skin.

****

Sorry that was so curly! When I started writing Jurdan I just thought I would write these snarly, snappy creatures but it turns out I'm just a sucker for them shedding their skins when they're alone. Also, I planned on writing hardcore smut and all that came out was... intense feels? What is happening?

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TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish

*NOTE* I have two entirely separate masterlists/ taglists for my feysand and jurdan stuff!! Hope this makes it all easy to navigate!

[toointofiction]

Cardan's Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Jude x Cardan

Genre: Romance

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Jude has been gone all morning. Cardan wonders where she could be and what she could possibly be doing when he walks into their bedroom only to find Jude there waiting for him with a really fun surprise. It appears he forgot it’s his birthday.

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Or read it below

Cardan is walking back to his room, his guards trailing behind him, after a particularly long and dull meeting with the Living Council. This time it felt like they just refused to let him go. It didn’t help that Jude, inexplicably, did not show up for the meeting. This seemed highly unusual given that she is the most responsible out of the two of them. And this is not all. She was also out of bed before Cardan woke up this morning. No one seemed too concerned about it, which only made things more suspicious. In fact, upon asking the guards for his wife’s whereabouts, this morning, they were being suspiciously vague in their responses with a lushed, almost uncomfortable look on their faces. Like they were hiding something. He did not think much of it at the time but now he was starting to worry. Could she mean to put herself in danger again? Putting everyone under oath not to tell him anything certain that he would try to stop her? He found this to be entirely too possible.

Trying to stop himself from panicking prematurely, he reaches his bedroom door and pushes it open only for his eyes to practically jump out of his skull at what he beholds. Jude sitting up in bed with a wicked grin on her face and a mischievous glint in her eyes, wearing the craziest dress Cardan has ever seen. A long silky black skirt that stopped at her ankles with a wide split on the left side right above her hip revealing her long muscled leg. Its bodice, also black, was skin-tight, like a corset and delightfully diaphanous bushing her breasts up in a way that caused Cardan’s skin to tighten.

After a minute or so Cardan finds his voice. “What is this?” he asks hoarsely.

“Happy Birthday,” she says in a low, seductive voice. Still grinning like a cat that cornered its prey.

He completely forgot what day it is today. But Jude apparently didn’t. “Is this why you were absent since this morning?” he asks with disbelieve and awe clear on his face.

“Well, one of the reasons,” she reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a brown paper bag that Cardan didn’t even notice and holds it out in front of him. “Here.”

Cardan takes the bag. “I know it doesn’t look like a present in the paper bag, but I promise you’ll love what’s inside.” And sure enough, Cardan opens the bag, reaches inside, and pulls out a handful of candy, and based on how heavy the bag was, there are still a lot more inside. This is the same candy he tried while visiting Vivi in the mortal world with Jude a few months ago. Cardan remembers the fervour with which he ate them, relishing their sweet and sour flavour. He had never tried anything this deliciously sweet before and he was actually looking forward to having them again.

It occurred to him then, that he never told Jude about his newfound love for mortal sweets and didn’t know how she could have known to get him some for his birthday. He asked her about it.

“What,” she asked, coyly. “Did you really think I hadn’t noticed you devouring Oak’s candy like a starving man last time we visited them?”

He smiles softly, feeling a warmth rise in his chest at how well she knows him. At how often she watches him without him realising. At how lucky he is that she loves him so much.

“So,” Jude’s voice brings him back from his musings. “Which present do you want to open first?”

At that Cardan’s smile turns feral, he put the candy back in the bag, drops it by the bed, and climbs on top of his wife. “Do you even have to ask?”

He bends down and kisses her deep and long. He feels her arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer to her as he blindly reaches one hand for the straps in the middle of her dress’s bodice, pulling them undone, while the other is on her thigh slowly inching up to her hip. Higher. He notices then that she is, in fact, not wearing any underwear and feels a deep growl comes from his throat. “You are a menace.” Jude chuckles at that and bites his lower lip suggestively.

Cardan moves from Jude’s mouth to her neck, kissing lower and lower as he reaches the parted bodice of her now loosened dress. Then he pauses for a short moment to pull the dress down and off of her, sliding it down her supple legs as she unbuckles his breeches, pushing them down until he takes them off himself. His shirt follows soon after. They stay still for a moment, looking at each other, wide grins on their faces, panting slightly. Cardan’s tail wraps itself around her calf. We haven’t even started, yet.He feels a surge of wicked delight at that thought only for his mind to go completely blank as he feels Jude’s hand moving between his thighs and caging him in her palm, giving him a slight squeeze.

To retaliate Cardan bends over one breast and takes her nipple into his mouth. He sucks and bites until he hears Jude moan softly, feeling the hand that grips him squeeze a little tighter and move up and down at a slow, agonizing pace. Her other hand, then, tangles in his hair, pulling at his roots hard and urging him for more. Cardan is more than happy to comply, switching from one breast to the other while using one hand to pinch and pull the nipple he just abandoned and the other to slip between her thighs, find her clit with his fingers and coax louder moans out of her.

He, then, slips two fingers inside her, feeling her clench and unclench around him, pumping in and out of her until she arches her back into him, gasping his name over and over. “Cardan. Cardan. Cardan.” He uses his thumb to rub her clit, forcing her to clench her thighs around his hand as she lets out a loud moan, tightening her fist in his curls and coming on his fingers.

Cardan lifts his head from her breasts, shoots her a wicked smile as he begins a descent down her body only to be stopped by Jude gripping both his shoulders hard. He looks at her in confusion but before he can say anything Jude wraps her legs around his waist and twists them so she’s on top of him. She smiles at him again and Cardan feels like he could die looking at her. Before he realises what’s happening, Jude has both his arms trenched above his head and is tying him up on the bed’s headboard with a silk rope. Once she is done tying him up, she looks down at him with that same wicked grin she had when he walked into their room and says, “Happy Birthday” in a low, sensual voice. Cardan’s eyes follow her as she starts kissing him down his chest and across his abdomen until she reaches his cock, taking him in one hand, pumping him once, kissing his tip. And then she looks him in the eye as she slowly, inch by inch, takes him in her mouth. The sensation, the sight. It’s all too much to take. He has to shut his eyes tight, lean his head back in sweet agony while biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Jude continues to torture him delightfully, with her warm mouth tense around his cock, the scraping of her teeth on his soft skin, the swiftness of her tongue driving him crazy. “Jude. Oh fuck. Jude.” He doesn’t last long. He comes hard and fast spilling into her mouth and down her throat. She takes it all. Never breaking eye contact. Once she’s finished with him, she licks his length slowly up to his tip, gives him another kiss, and moves up to kiss him hard on the mouth.

“How are you liking your present, baby?” All he can muster for an answer is a pathetic grunt that sounds more like a purr. She chuckles, leaving feather-light kisses on the side of his neck, under his ear. She whispers, “Want me to keep going?” There’s a shiver crawling down his spine at her voice, at what she’s asking him. He barely gets out a “Yes”. She kisses him once more, hard on the mouth, and moves to straddle him. “Good.”

She grabs his shaft once more, lining him up to her entrance, and pushes him into her slowly. Torturously. They both moan loudly at the sensation. He will never get sick of this, he realises. Never get sick of her. Every moment with her feels like an unbelievable dream. Like he’s somehow mortal, under gees. She slowly picks up the pace. Going faster and faster the closer she gets to climax. Cardan can do nothing but watch as she guides a hand downwards and starts rubbing herself. The other goes to her beast, catching her nipple between her index finger and thumb. The sight is too much. He tugs unconsciously at the robe, forgetting momentarily that he’s still tied to the headboard, thinking he could touch her himself. She rides him faster and harder, the room fills with their groaning, grunting, moaning. Until Jude abruptly stops, throws her head back, and lets out a long, loud moan that sends Cardan over the edge, breathes out Jude’s name as she falls limp on top of him.

Several moments pass as they both try to catch their breath. Jude finally reaches out and unties him. He wraps his arms around her almost immediately and asks, “Should we have some candy?”

[shadowturtlesstuff]

A day dedicated to Jude

I was looking through my google docs and found a random jurdan fic so i quickly edited it. Enjoy

We are alone, walking through our rose garden as the sun starts to set over Elfhame. There is another revel tonight, like most nights, but tonight serves more of a purpose. At least it does for my husband and I. A few weeks ago I accidentally told Cardan my birthday, and so he took it upon himself to organise a revel in my honour. He thankfully neglected to tell people why it was honouring me; he has just claimed that he can honour his wife whenever he likes. Which made me smile despite the fact I did not want any sort of attention around my birthday. Perhaps just by my sisters, Oak, Heather and Cardan. Alas, tonight I will dine with Elfhame and my husband and dance and try to enjoy my night. 

Cardan had refused to go to meetings and made sure I wasn't able to attend any, either. Again missing the reason behind his actions. The Court of Shadows knows, we spent time with them drinking, until the Bomb and Roach decided to spend the rest of the day in the mortal world until tonight. The Ghost has disappeared in search of my twin most likely. So we had spent the day in bed, over a year of being married, of being High King and Queen together, and the simplicity of the day had been strange to us both. Cardan had become used to it far faster than I. Yet I will admit I did enjoy doing nothing, worrying about only my husband, which I always did but there were no other worries alongside it. It was nice. As much as that thought would've scared me in the past it does not now. I welcomed relaxing on our bed and resting my sore muscles. 

My stomach has healed nicely from where my father stabbed me. Often I find Cardan tracing the line when we are in bed together. His face is always lost in thought when I find his hand absentmindedly caressing the line. He has expressed his hatred for Madoc many times, which is completely understandable. So when I find him in that state I simply take his hands and reassure him I am okay, that we made it. 

I take his hand now, which surprises us both but he smiles. It was his idea to walk together before we entered our party. Even though we spent today together alone, he wanted one more time with me. So we've dressed ready and are walking slowly together. "Thank you for the revel Cardan, even though I specifically told you I didn't want to celebrate." I feel his pace drop and he turns and faces me. I have not explained why I wished not to celebrate but with Cardan I didn't need to. He understood that it was a reminder that I was mortal; one of my many shortcomings. Fae do not age the same ways as mortals, and my life would end far faster than Cardans'. It was a reminder I was running low on time to spend with my husband in the peace that we'd worked so hard for. 

"And I told you that I simply cannot just ignore your birthday. It is a day where I can tell you how much I adore you and you cannot stop me." It never ceased to amaze me how much we have both changed by opening our hearts to each other. He kisses my hand and pulls me into a hug. Cardan, I have found out, loves to cuddle. He will do it any chance he gets. Not that I mind it, often when I feel his arms snake around me whilst I’m working I welcome the small break it offers. 

“Very well husband, I supposed we should go to the party.”

“Your party.” He counters and I nearly shake my head at his antics.

We walk hand in hand together, the guards open the doors for us and we make our way into the main hall. All eyes turn to us. I spot my sister with the Ghost, Vivi and Heather on the other side of the room dancing together already. Taryn left her child with Oriana for the night and I’m sure she was complaining about not being with him. Cardan and I have only seen my nephew a handful of times. When Cardan held him for the first time his eyes had held promise for our future. Both of us had not been raised as a child should be or in a way that prepared us to be parents; but we both held hope that we’d learn together. I know Cardan would be the most loving father a child could ask for. 

Cardan leads me to my throne and instead of going to his he sits on the arm of my chair. He refuses to leave my side, and whilst it isn’t strange for him to sit here, I fear that our people will figure out why this is in my honor and that Cardan is being more of a husband than High King. Most revels we have roles to play, to appear menacing and diplomatic and everything people in charge should be. Cardan is more open with gestures of love than I am, yet I can’t help but think of all the things they could claim when it is just a mortal birthday he’s celebrating.

It is a long time before Cardan and I have a peaceful second with each other. People have been coming to us all night, to show respect as they always do and to try and figure out any information about tonight. They haven’t. I am tired even though I have done nothing all day. I would happily spend tomorrow in bed with my husband if I didn’t have more meetings that I pushed back to have today off. Cardan is still sitting next to me, and I’m half tempted to fall asleep on him despite being in front of everyone. Instead of doing that I grip his elbow. He’s currently gesturing to some fae I didn’t realise appeared so taking his hand would only annoy the fae he’s talking to. So I settle for the elbow and he wordlessly slows his hand gestures until it is just his left moving. Then eventually that stops and the fae has left us all alone and Cardan is facing me. I give him a small smile, and he returns it. “Do you want to leave?” He asks.

I sigh. Yes, I do. I want to be in bed with him holding me as I do nothing. But I know I can’t get into that habit no matter how much I now wish to. “No, we haven’t even spoken to my sisters yet and I think they’ll hang you if I don’t see them at all.” I tell him and then laugh when he panics. “I’m kidding, kinda. I mean, if they don’t at least wish me happy birthday then they’ll be a bit angry.” 

“Let’s go find your sisters then shall we?”  

We find Taryn with Vivi and Heather instead of the Ghost and I am immediately embraced by them all. They whisper happy birthday so that everyone around us cannot hear and then Vivi notices that Cardan is just standing awkwardly watching the four of us hug and insists that he joins us. Somewhat reluctantly he wraps his arms around me and Taryn and joins our hug, finding a way to press a kiss to my head. Despite my tiredness, and I suppose my stubbornness, to not celebrate my birthday I smile at the people willing to tolerate me in this way. 

“How’s your little one?” I ask Taryn as we all move from our hug. The fae are all listening and hovering but I don’t really care too much. 

“He’s getting so big, you two must come see him soon. He misses his Uncle Cardan.” This makes Heather giggle as Cardan winces. He doesn’t mind it but would prefer not to be called that here. When we got home and spoke about it he kept repeating Uncle Cardan like he still couldn’t believe he was a part of our family. As messed up as all of us are, I am happy we faced so much to find this life. 

“When we were with him yesterday he squeezed my finger and I honestly nearly had a heart attack.” Heather, ever the dramatic, going into more detail about the time she and Vivi spent with Taryn yesterday. Because Taryn lives alone she often has my sister and her girlfriend around often and if me and Cardan didn’t have to work to run a kingdom I’m sure Cardan would be with his little nephew all day. 

I feel Cardans' hand move around me and he holds me in a side hug as we listen to our family. Again he kisses my temple and this time I rest my head on my husbands' chest and smile. “Happy birthday my Wicked Queen.”

(i’m using normal tags so if you only read my cressworth sorry)

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

[braiawrites]

Lost & Found - Chapter 3

Summary: A messenger fills Jude and Madoc in on important news. Jude and the cat pay a visit to the palace. || Inspired by this prompt by @newblood-freya

Words: 3188

Rating: T

Warnings: Brief description of a murder in the first section.

Links:

Fic Masterlist

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER FOUR

Prompt by newblood-freya

Read it on AO3

Writing Masterlist

Send me an ask!

A/N: So I thought writing a multi-chapter would be much easier once I had a solid plot laid out but when I tell you I was dragging words out by my teeth—yeah, I'm not super happy with this chapter but it's here and technically I had it finished in time, just not posted so uh. Good for me? Yeah I'll shut up now, here's chapter 3.

***

Dead. One of the princes was dead.

Jude stood stock still for a long moment, the shock on her face palpable as the words echoed in her mind.

Prince Dain was dead. Did that mean Cardan was, too?

Finally, she swallowed and took a shaky breath. “Prince Dain is dead?"

“Did you not know?” Madoc’s voice was heavy, his eyes sharp.

“No,” Jude gasped. “No, I–no. I thought this was about Cardan. I thought—I don’t know what, exactly, but not this.”

Madoc ran a large hand over his jaw, and then—

“Sit.” He gestured to one of the chairs set along the wall. “You might as well stay to hear the rest.”

She nodded numbly, hesitating before turning to the chair. The cat was standing next to her, black fur fluffed up and small body trembling, his eyes fixed on her foster father. He seemed as horrified as she felt.

“Your guest can stay as well,” Madoc said, tilting his head curiously at the cat. “We will talk about keeping pets later.”

With a nod, she scooped him up as she moved to sit down, tucking the trembling form into herself. She wanted to murmur comforts into his soft black fluff—as much for him as for herself, she suspected—but with Madoc and the messenger looking on, she settled for soothingly stroking the length of his back.

Madoc turned his attention to the messenger boy. “Report,” he instructed, like the boy were one of his soldiers.

He certainly reacted like one, his spine straightening and his chin lifting as he snapped his liquid gaze up to Madoc’s.

Jude didn’t blame him. The old redcap could have that effect.

“Prince Dain never returned to his quarters yesterday,” the imp said. “He was found by a librarian this evening in the royal lineage section, propped against the shelf and—” the imp paused, looking slightly sick, “and with his throat slit.”

“Any other injuries?” Madoc’s voice was cool and steady, as though he were asking about the weather, not the murder of a prince.

“I didn’t—I don’t know, sir. I didn’t see the body.”

At the general’s displeased grunt, the boy rushed to add, “But—at the time of my departure, they were just going to fetch a royal physician. They’ll have the report by now, I’m sure.”

“Hmph,” Madoc responded. “I’ll just have to go and find out for myself. Dismissed.”

As the imp bowed and turned to leave, Jude found herself blurting, “Wait!” the word coming out before she had a chance to think better of it.

The imp halted, glancing first at Madoc, who shrugged, and then at her.

“What about Prince Cardan?” she asked. “Has there been any news of him?”

The cat on her lap stirred slightly, his paws kneading into her legs at the mention of the disfavoured prince’s name.

“Not to my knowledge,” the boy said, shaking his head, and Jude felt her heart drop.

She nodded her thanks as the messenger bowed again and left, not trusting herself to speak through the tightening of her throat or the worry washing through her. For all he’d done to her, for all that he was her worst enemy, she never would have wished him dead.

Madoc’s commanding rumble broke through her fear. “Go and have the stablehands prepare me a mount,” he said. His eyes glared into hers as he repeated, “One mount.”

“I’m not—” Jude started, her fists clenching, but she swallowed her protest. There was no point in saying anything—he’d already made it clear that he wouldn’t allow her to come.

“Fine,” she said instead, and gathered her cat up as she left.

~ ~ ~

Jude did not go to the stables, but instead marched straight to her room, the heels of her boots clicking on the wooden floors. She caught a servant along the way to demand a mount be made ready for Madoc, and then set about preparing for her own trip to the palace.

As she strapped her sword belt to her waist and hid daggers under her sleeves, she kept glancing sidelong at the little cat pacing her floor. His tail lashed viciously with each step, his eyes bright. He must sense her own agitation.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m just worried. But I’m not staying home until Madoc brings word. For all I know, he’ll leave out all of the most important details to keep me from getting involved.” She scowled. “I’m not a child anymore. And I’m going to find out what happened to Cardan.”

The cat meowed and when she glanced over he met her eyes full on with his own amber bright glare. She could have sworn he’d sounded annoyed as she glared back at him, trying not to let her unnerve show. It wasn’t natural how human he seemed sometimes.

With a deep, steadying breath, she strapped the last sheath to her thigh and double checked the blade before sliding it into place.

She glanced at her cat again. “Are you coming?”

He mewed and clambered up her clothes, his claws pricking her skin.

“I swear you do that on purpose,” she grumbled as she checked out her window.

In the distance, Madoc was galloping astride a dark horse, almost at the edge of the Milkwood. By the time she had a mount saddled, he would be too far ahead to notice her.

With the cat slunk over her shoulders like a warm scarf, she made her way down to the stables and chose a light-footed creature reminiscent of a reindeer with glassy eyes and long fangs on either side of its mouth.

She made good time through the woods, her mount swift and smooth as it dodged trees and leapt fallen logs. The cat perched on the saddle before her, little face upturned in the wind, eyes slitted in pleasure, and Jude would have joined him had there not been a knot in her stomach at the possibility of Cardan being dead.

When the palace of Elfhame came into view, she pulled her mount to a stop and left it to graze out of view. Though it would have been quicker, coming careening up to the castle on the back of a fanged reindeer would be far from inconspicuous.

She continued on foot, the cat riding on her shoulders once again until they neared the base of the hill where the entrance was hidden by humming magic.

Two guards stood watch today, a precaution to keep unwanted visitors out after the news of Prince Dain’s murder. She had planned to enter quietly, but that may be impossible now.

As Jude drew closer, the guards moved in unison, drawing their weapons.

“What business do you have at the palace?" the taller of the two asked.

Jude lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I’m here with General Madoc,” she declared, to which the shorter guard snickered.

“Sure you are, mortal.”

The taller one shook her head. “The general specifically stated that he came alone.”

Jude fought the urge to clench her fists as the guards remained unmoving. “I need to see him,” she tried, “it’s important.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” the short guard drawled. “No one’s allowed in or out without explicit orders.”

The taller one shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. We can take a message, if you like.”

Jude shook her head, already turning away with a mumbled excuse, when her cat leapt off her shoulder and disappeared into the hill.

“Hey!” she called after him, moving to follow, but the guards stepped in front of her.

“You can’t go in.”

“But my cat—”

“You live in the general’s household?” the taller guard asked.

“Yes.”

“We’ll make sure the cat gets sent back with him if we see it again.”

She ground her teeth but nodded. “Fine. Guess I’m leaving then.”

“Guess you are,” the shorter guard challenged.

She fought the urge to say something smart back, or draw her sword on him, and instead walked around the hill.

“Where are you going now?” one of the guards called.

Nosy, she thought, but yelled back, “Visiting a friend,” and rounded the base of the hill until she was out of their view.

There had to be another way in, and so long as there was one, she would find it. She paced a half circle around the side of the hill opposite the guards, searching for another illusioned entrance or tunnel, a servants’ door—nothing.

Jude was just about to give up when she heard a triumphant, “Mrrrow!” from somewhere above. It was her cat, his little black head poking out an open window halfway up the hill.

“You genius little kitty!” she praised him, jogging up the sloping earth and climbing through the round window. As she eased the wood-bordered glass pane shut again, she whispered, “I didn’t even know these opened.”

The cat purred, looking decidedly smug, and Jude marvelled again at his strangeness.

“You don’t happen to know the way to the dungeons too, do you?” she asked, half jokingly.

He chirped and wound around her leg before trotting out of the room.

~ ~ ~

Jude entered the dungeons on quiet feet, trailing after the little black cat. The moment his paws touched the cold stone he yelped and leapt back onto her shoulders, his claws digging in.

“Spoiled rotten,” she accused him. “You have twice as many legs as me, you know. If anything you should be the one doing the carrying.”

She could have sworn he stuck his tongue out at her in response, or maybe it was just a coincidence, so she blew in his face.

The dungeon was mostly empty, with the few cells that were filled being deeper down. She supposed crimes weren’t oft committed in a land were a forceful promise was binding. Or, Jude thought as her eyes caught on an executioner’s sword mounted on the wall, maybe there was a darker reason.

She tried not to shiver in the damp air as she stalked past rows of cells, her eyes scanning the shadows for a pixie girl in a gown fit for a revel.

When at last she stopped before a small figure in a dirty gown, the cat sprung from her shoulders to stand, hissing and hackles raised, before the bars.

Behind the bars, the pixie sat up from where she was lounging on her straw palette, a laugh spilling from her lips, bitter and grating to Jude’s ears.

“Well, hello again,” the prisoner smirked, ruby red eyes flashing in the low light. “It looks like you came back to find me. You miss me that much?”

Jude tried to hide the confusion swirling inside her as she picked up her yowling cat. “We’ve never met,” she stated, to which the pixie laughed again.

“Not everything’s about you, love.” Her eyes locked on the cat as she jerked her chin at it. “Cat bring you here?”

Jude frowned. “Leave him out of it.”

“Alright, if you insist,” she shrugged. “So what do you want? Because as much as I’d like to think you came just to visit, I find it hard to believe you would appreciate my company so much—especially since we’ve never met.”

Jude shifted. She hadn’t thought about what she was going to actually say once she got here—ask nicely for the return of the prince? Grab the prisoner through the bars and shake her? Instead, Jude steeled herself and dove straight in, barrelling through both tact and diplomacy in one fell swoop.

“I have questions.”

“And what makes you think I have answers?”

“I already know you’re connected to Cardan’s disappearance,” she said, stepping closer, “and you’re going to tell me where he is.”

“Oh?” Red brows lifted over honey gold skin as the prisoner regarded Jude with some interest. ��Am I now?”

“Yes, you are.” Jude ground the words out through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to lay her hand on her sword hilt as the pixie seemingly considered her options. Finally, she leaned back on her straw palette like it was the most comfortable bed in the world.

“No.” Her tone was flat, void of emotion, but there was a flicker of something—anger? Regret?—behind her eyes.

“I’m not asking,” Jude said, meeting the pixie’s glare.

“Oh, but I think you are. What else are you going to do? Threaten me? I’m already behind bars, darling, and you snuck in here. As soon as I called for a guard, you’d have to run, or risk being caught.”

Jude thought about bluffing or lying her way out of the trap, but curiosity got the better of her.

“How did you know I snuck in?”

“I didn’t, for sure, until just now,” the pixie responded, and Jude cursed herself for her stupidity. “I’d guessed it, because you have no uniform and no keys, and because no one ever enters from that direction.” She gestured down the hall where Jude had come from minutes prior. “And because the castle already came to see me today.”

At Jude’s frown, the girl elaborated with a roll of her eyes.

“They come down here every single day to ask me if I’m ready to tell them what I did with our dearest Prince Cardan, and every single day I tell them no, I’m not ready, I’m still literally unable to talk about anything I’ve done EVEN IF I WANTED TO, because I’m under a damn OATH!”

She threw her hands up in frustration before covering her face with her arms, huffing a sigh before continuing. “And then they walk away and tell me well then, no food until you’re ready to talk, and I always scream my worst insults at them as they leave, which I have to admit makes me feel just a teeny bit better.”

She sat up and met Jude’s eyes with a shrug. “I mean, it’s not nice of me, but I think I deserve it after all this.” She gestured to the mildew damp walls and bounced a bit on the creaky bed.

A pang of sympathy wormed its way into Jude’s heart, but she shut it out.

“How are you not dead?” she asked. “You have to have said something or you’d have starved by now.”

The girl laughed again. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it! See, this cell is enchanted specially by High King Eldred himself.” Her eyes flashed and her smile faltered, so momentarily Jude could almost have been convinced it didn’t happen. Almost.

“Once you step inside, you can feel as hungry or as thirsty as you like, but you’ll never die from it. It’s a special kind of torture,” the pixie grimaced.

Jude swallowed the pity rising in her throat and lifted her chin. “Well, you probably deserved it. You’re a murderer afterall.”

“I—” the girl began to protest, but she stopped before she could say anymore. A moment passed before she coughed.

“Like I said, I can’t tell you anything about what I’ve done, but I can tell you that if I had been given a choice, I wouldn’t have gone after Cardan.”

“And Dain?”

“Dain?” the pixie echoed. “What about him?”

“They found him murdered this evening. Did you go after him?”

“What?” If the look of utter shock on the pixie’s face hadn’t convinced Jude, her next words did: “I didn’t kill Dain. You know I can’t lie, so you believe me, right? You know I’m telling the truth.”

Slowly, Jude nodded. “I believe you.”

“Listen: I can’t tell you what I did to Cardan, or why, or who I work for, but I can tell you this,” the pixie said, moving to stand by the bars.

“Desires sometimes take unexpected forms, but chasing them does no good when they’re already within your grasp. Cardan is closer than you think, but there is a power that will always hunger, and if you don’t stop it soon, it’ll devour not only your prince, but the rest of Faerie as well.”

Silence fell over the jail like a blanket, disturbed only by the drip, drip, drip of water.

Finally, the prisoner raised red brows. “So?”

“Thank you so much, that was so helpful and I now know everything,” Jude declared flatly.

The pixie girl sighed and propped her fists on the soiled waist of her gown. “You can be sarcastic all you want, babe, but I swear, that was as much as I can tell you—you know, binding oath and all? I mean, have you not been listening this entire conversation?”

The cat on her shoulder mewed and Jude glared at him sidelong.

“Whose side are you on?” she huffed, to which he meowed again and lashed his tail.

“Alright, fine.” Jude pressed her lips into a thin line as she turned back to face the girl in the cell. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

With the cat on her shoulder, Jude stalked out of the palace the same way she’d come in.

~ ~ ~

Cardan sat on the windowsill of Jude’s room, watching as the sun began to creep above the horizon, painting the sky in the golden light of dawn. Behind him, Jude was deep in slumber, snoring softly into her pillow, but with everything that had happened today, he couldn’t sleep.

Dain was gone and the palace was in shambles—he’d seen as much when he’d slipped inside. Guards had been everywhere, servants carrying cleaning supplies milled about, and curious courtiers had drifted through the halls, trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened.

When he’d passed by the library, Cardan had paused, resisting the urge to enter. When he breathed in, he’d nearly vomited.

Scents were much stronger to his cat nose, and through the must of old books and scrolls, beneath the scent of centuries of dust, he had smelled the cooling blood of his brother as it seeped into the carpets. It had taken all his willpower not to collapse in his sorrow.

The blankets rustled from inside the room and Jude’s groggy voice reached his ears.

“Kitty? What’re you doin’?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder and gave her a soft mrrm of amusement. Her hair was escaping its braid and dried drool had left a trail down her cheek.

“Come here, kitty,” she crooned, patting the blankets, and Cardan complied, slinking across the room to curl up in the curve of her arm.

Jude’s fingers played in the fluff around his neck and he couldn’t help but purr into the silence. He’d always been disgusted by how much he craved her touch, but he’d discovered of late that her fingers scratching his jaw or playing with his fur was one of his favourite things. He blamed Pellia’s cat curse.

They stayed that way for a long while, Jude stroking his fluff and his purrs warming the ever-lightening room.

When he twisted his face up to look at her, she brushed a kiss to his nose before settling into her pillows and pulling him closer. If cats could blush, he would have been bright pink.

“Sleep tight, kitty,” Jude whispered. “You’re safe here.”

And Cardan knew she was right.

***

A/N: Hello, loves! Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!! I'm sorry this was a bit late, as I said earlier I struggled with this chapter so much. Thank you all so much for your support though, reading your lovely comments was a big motivation to get this chapter written, and I can say with absolute certainty that I would have given up long ago if it weren't for your kind feedback. I'm sending lots of love to all of you!

(PS: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list!)

Tagging: @stardustsroses @nahthanks @jurdanhell @my-one-true-l @thefolkofthefic @greenbriarxrose @bookavert @queen-of-demons-and-hell @theviolettulip @lysandra-ghost-leopard @playlistmusings @localgoof @garnet-babe @iamaprincessallgirlsare

[pollyaunt]

The Prom: Jurdan High School au Chapter 8

Fandom: TFOTA

Warnings: None

Summary: Jude and Cardan have hated each other but were forced to work together let's see how this story ends.

A/N: hiiii this is the last chapter of this fic and im sm happy that ya'll liked it! enjoy!!

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Chapter: 8 Jude's POV

"You're nothing. You'll be nothing." A sweet voice echoed. I stared into darkness and it stared back to me.

"You're a fool and undeserving of everything," I knew that voice. Cardan.

"Did you really think he can actually love you?" This was Nicasia's.

Then came Valerian's, "No body will ever love you. No one can."

Then the voices started speaking at the same time but I still stared into darkness. I even heard my own twin, "You can't blame people. I have always been the one that everyone wants and you're the one who repels them." I put my hands on my ears but it continued. I was going mad.

I woke up screaming and crying for anyone to just come and hold me for an eternity.

Vivi barged into my room and quickly hugged me, whispering things to calm me down. I calmed down and last night's events came rushing into my mind, "I hate him," is all I whispered.

"I know. Don't think about him he's a jerk. Now c'mon, freshen up. I have made your favorite chocolate pancakes." She gave me an encouraging smile and I nodded grimly.

I went to the bathroom and saw my reflection. A ghost. I looked like a ghost. All make-up smudged, mascara on my cheeks as a result of now-dried tears. However, my lipstick remained the same.

I took a bath as quickly as I could, not wanting to think about last night but failed.

I went downstairs and sat at the dining table. Vivi made me chocolate pancakes as promised and told me that Taryn stayed overnight with Locke. I looked at the clock which showed it was 12:30 pm. Oak was probably off to school.

"I'll be going to pick Oak in an hour and we can do something fun. I don't want you to sit here and sulk around. I hate seeing you like this." I nodded nonchalantly.

After an hour, we left to pick up Oak and then do something 'fun'. Vivi made me wear a floral short jumpsuit. However, I refused to apply any make-up.

We picked up Oak and Vivi thought it would be really entertaining that we should go to a flower a grove. "Really? What will you have in a flower grove?" It was the first time I spoke since we left. "You'll see," why the hell did she wink?

I scowled but didn't stop her. When we reached the flower grove and Vivi asked me, "Hey Jude, can you bring snacks from that stall?" She pointed at a particular stall in front of the grove where a man sold candies mostly. I obliged her and they disappeared inside.

While buying candies, I noticed not a single soul was here today. What was happening?

As I entered the grove, I saw no-one there. Not even Vivi and Oak. Instead I noticed the grove was particularly decorated with jasmines and red roses and fairy lights hung from tree to tree. It looked ethereal and matched with my outfit.

"Vivi? Oak?" I called out but no response came. I saw a shadow of someone emerging from the opposite direction.

My heart stopped at the mere sight of him.

My vision blurred even though we were just staring at each other and my heart was beating so fast I feared he might be able to hear it.

"Jude," he took a step forward and I took a step backwards, "Hey, I can explain. Please let me then you can decide what you want. But just hear me out once," his eyes had bags as if he didn't sleep last night. I wanted to slap him but I also wanted to hear him out. I chose the latter and found some courage to nod.

He begin, "The video you saw was of last year's Prom. I wore the same coloured tux because you know I like black. I assume you also know Nicasia and I dated last year," another step forward," she must have asked Valerian to record it as a 'memory' in her words. Now that everyone knows we're dating she must have seen her chance and made a plan with Valerian. It was Valerian who sent you the video and all this is because of them. I know you won't believe me but just see this," we only had a few inches between us. He opened Instagram on his mobile and showed me what Nicasia wore last night.

It was true. Everything was different, the make-up, the outfit even the hairstyle was.

He continued, however, not seemed to to notice my shock, "I love you Jude," I looked at him in disbelief and realized I had started crying. The bag of candies fell from my hands and he repeated, "I love you."

This time I hugged him fiercely, crying in his chest. He placed his hands on the small of my back and kissed at the top of my head.

When I stopped, I moved back. He was about say something but I slapped him hard and said, "For bullying me," and then kissed him equally hard before saying, "For loving me,"

He broke the kiss and I saw tears had formed in his eyes as well, "I will never ever hurt you again. I promise. I love you Jude," my heart melted at that and I whispered back, "I love you too Cardan. I love you too," He pressed his forehead against mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Just so you know, Valerian has a black eye and is probably missing one or two teeth," I chuckled at that, "And I told Nicasia if she tried anything else in the future it won't be me but you giving her a punch," I laughed wholly at that.

"I see the the lovebirds have finally reconciled," We turned in unison to see Vivi and Oak approaching us.

Oak exclaimed, "You two are dating! Vivi was right!" to which Vivi started an argument with him and I only half heard them.

I turned to Cardan and said, "Let's make a promise. Whatever happens in the future we'll go through it together." He smiled and muttered, "I promise," and I murmured back, " I promise too."

We sealed the promise with a deep, passionate kiss.

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THANKU SM FOR READING!!!! THIS WAS THE LAST CH AND IM SM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!

ps: i started something new and most prob will post after a few days.

taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @thekingdomofelfhame @greenbriarxrose @cinnamonsketchdust @charincharge @clockworkgraystairs @jurdanhell @jurdannet @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep @loves-books @zemiraa @rhysandswingspan

[playlistmusings]

I had him right there where I wanted him

3,252 words

Jude Duarte x Cardan Greenbriar

read on ao3

A very big thanks to @yourlocalautisticoverlord for giving me the prompt: Knife Wife Jude teaches Cardan basic self defense (he is very bad at it).

Jude is bored and wants someone to spar with. The only thing stopping her from having a sparring partner is that, Cardan sucks at fighting. Luckily, Jude doesn't mind teaching her husband how to defend himself and Cardan doesn't mind the way Jude teaches him.

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Ambiguous time period, could be set during a slightly AU TWK if Cardan and Jude had their shit together and Jude wasn’t exiled or post TQoN with pretty much no changes to canon.

-----

Cardan felt oddly at peace in the training room of the Court of Shadows. He knew he probably shouldn’t, after all he was surrounded by more weapons than he could count and some of the most gifted and terrifying warriors and spies he’d ever met. But one of those warriors was his wife and everyone else had, at one point or another, actively worked to keep alive and on the throne, so perhaps the peace was justified. So, he sat in a chair off to the side, pieces of parchment in his hands that he read through whilst desperately trying to ignore the group of spies that was taking turns sparring each other. He was just flipping a letter over to read the back—because reports on crop growth were so interesting—when a knife flew past his face and thudded in the wall. Ripped from his thoughts, Cardan looked up and towards the person who threw the knife—of course it was Jude, who else would risk even nicking the High King? —and gave her a sardonic glare, daring her to let a second knife already held between her fingers go flying.

“Come on, Cardan! At least try to spar with us!” Her voice rang out as she grinned at him, as if all it took for Cardan to give up was a taunt and a smile (which, to be fair to Jude, usually that was all it took).

“I have important work to do, you know, as High King of Elfhame I actually have to do things.” He held her gaze, shifting from a glare to a equally sarcastic smile, the type of smile that usually made her jut out her chin and glare at him—the smile that usually followed some offhand comment meant to rile her up and preceded Jude muttering something about how insufferable or intolerable or in- something Cardan was before she crashed her lips into his. But here, in the training room, surrounded by people, Cardan was pretty certain she wouldn’t do anything—after all she always seemed off when publicly showing affection. And if they only kissed or hugged when they were alone, it didn’t really bother Cardan, if anything it made moments like these, where he could taunt her like he did back when they were in school—minus the part where she thought he was genuinely trying to kill or main her—all the more fun. So, as Jude glared, obviously trying to come up with some clever retort, Cardan’s smile softened, turning genuine for only a second before he forced himself to focus on the papers sitting in his lap.

“Ah, yes, High King Cardan has to focus on his work, because he’s so important, and does nothing but focus on work…” Jude muttered half formed insults under her breath while walking to rip her knife from the wall. And if someone saw Cardan smiled wider when he heard her, then he would claim that he was just happy that Elfhame was having a good farming season and it had nothing to do with his wife.

-----

Jude was exhausted. The good kind of exhausted, though, where you could feel your muscles work through every movement, growing stronger as you pushed them. Yet, all of her sparring partners were apparently too exhausted to continue training. One by one, over the course of an hour or so everyone had made their way out of the room, first it was the Roach claiming he had somewhere to be, then it was the Bomb claiming she had a meeting with someone— acting like no one knew that someone was the Roach—and then, all too quickly, it was only Cardan and Jude in the room. This would have been a welcome change, if Cardan weren’t more focused on those God damn papers than Jude. She had been trying to get him out of that chair for hours, taunting him and “accidentally” losing grip of her weapons and strategically letting them fly past his head in an attempt to break his focus on his work and look up at her instead.

So now she stood in the middle of the room, exhausted and exasperated, trying to think of some way she could get Cardan’s attention. At this point it was less about the way he seemed to have a stick up his ass and wouldn’t interact with anyone else, or her wanting her husband to pay attention to her, or anything like that, Jude was filled with determination and spite, if he would work so hard to not pay attention to her then she would refuse to let him do anything other than focus on her.

She pulled her arm back before swinging it forward, letting the thin throwing knife slip out of her fingers and spin through the air past Cardan’s ear and into the wall behind him, it was the second time she had done this today, but luckily that didn’t mean it surprised Cardan any less. His eyes snapped up to hers before wandering around the room briefly, as if just noticing that they were alone in the training room. His gaze latched onto hers right as she started stalking towards him, Nightfell swinging in one hand, a random dagger in the other.

“What are you up to?” His voice was uneasy, but just barely, his discomfort hiding in the waver his voice had as he ended his question—he was trying to hide his discomfort in the way that only Jude could see through.

She kept walking toward him, stopping an arms-length away before holding the dagger out to him, “Take it.”

Cardan looked at her face, as if searching for a reason for her actions, before gingerly taking the dagger from her left hand.

-----

Cardan held the dagger in his right hand, feeling its weight, trying not to slice a finger on the blade. Jude was certainly up to something, he couldn’t figure out what quite yet, perhaps she was going to make him spar her or perhaps she had snapped and was going to kill him here in the Court of Shadows, tucked away where only a select few people could find his body. However, while Cardan was left wondering what was going to happen, he was pretty certain it was happening because he had been very purposefully ignoring her all afternoon.

“Stand up.” Her chin was jutting out again, and Cardan could see her jaw clench as he took a few seconds before sighing and setting the parchments on the floor and standing, making a show of every action he made.

“So, now are you going to tell me what’s happening?” Something in Jude seemed to momentarily soften as he looked her in the eye plainly, with no pretense or sarcasm, just searching for an answer in her face.

“I’m bored and you’re here and I’m going to spar you,” Her voice made it clear that even if he wanted to ignore her, she wouldn’t make it easy for him.

“Well, my Queen, that would be a wonderful idea if I were a partner worth sparring.” Cardan thought back to days spent attempting to refine what few combat skills he had, forcing himself out of his memories before they could go down a dark path consumed by Balekin’s taunts and servants whipping his back.

“Then, I don’t know, I’ll…” Jude turned on her heel, exasperation coloring her voice as it faded off, “I’ll just have to teach you. I know you can fight a little, so I’ll teach you, I mean it makes sense for you to at least be able to try to protect yourself.”

Cardan once again forced his thoughts away from other lessons he’d been forced into, knowing that he couldn’t hide the discomfort Jude’s words brought on.

“Oh, I don’t mean to—I won’t make you, if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I forgot about all that. It’s okay, Cardan, I’m fine,” Jude stuttered her apology as her mind drifted to the time she hid under a table in Balekin’s house.

Cardan’s heart softened, the realization that despite all of Jude’s rough edges, she’d do anything before hurting someone she loved sunk in as he said words he didn’t know if he’d regret, “No, it’s fine, let’s do this. Teach me to fight, your Majesty.”

-----

Jude nodded, still feeling guilty for forgetting why Cardan didn’t enjoy endless sparring sessions like she did. She quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, trying to take Cardan’s reassurance, after all he couldn’t lie to her even if he wanted to, so it had to be fine, right?

“Okay, let’s start with defensive positions, then.” Jude approached Cardan, loosely holding Nightfell in her hand before swinging directly towards Cardan’s side, stopping inches away from his arm that did nothing but flinch. Dear God, he really has no self-preservation, no wonder he always got into messes. Jude groaned a little before looking at Cardan and asking, “So, in that scenario do you really just want to lose an arm?”

He shook his head, “Obviously not, but what am I supposed to do? You have a whole sword and I have, what? A tiny knife?”

“You could at least try to block me. Like, here, like this.” Jude moved towards Cardan and lifted his harm and hand to make a motion so that his dagger would intercept the path of her blade. And so, it went on like that, for what felt like years. Jude slowly showing Cardan a motion, working with him until he could do it cleanly, eventually moving on from defensive maneuvers to offensive jabs and slashes. It was progress, however clumsy and unpracticed his movements were, at least it was progress. Jude kept telling herself it was unreasonable to expect Cardan to perfect anything she showed him but something in her ached for him to understand faster, to understand more.

-----

Cardan had been trying to execute the same movement for about fifteen minutes now. Jude kept claiming he was going wrong when he did something wrong with his wrist, right there after you reach out, but he still had no clue as to fix it. And while Cardan could see the merit in knowing how to defend oneself, he did have an entire legion of knights whose sole job was defending him, so he didn’t have to and on top of that he had a wife who was more than happy to ride off into battles for him, so there was really nearly no scenario he’d need to know any of this stuff. The last time he could even think of getting attacked was when Jude held a knife to his throat in Dain’s study—which to be honest, he didn’t exactly mind repeating that event. But alas, despite all the repetition and scolding and sweat, Cardan loved seeing the way Jude’s face lit up whenever he mastered a movement or successfully blocked an attack. Something about Jude just seemed right when she fought, like this was what she was meant to do. Her eyes had a fire in them, and her body moved with a practiced ease that Cardan was only now noticing, when for once he could focus on her and her movements without a threat looming over every action. It was intoxicating, seeing someone so in their element, seeing Jude so clearly doing exactly what she was trained to do, exactly what she loved. Even now, when she wasn’t doing anything other than glaring at his arm—as if that was the solution to his problem—there was something in her that made it clear that she wasn’t actually mad or upset, she was purely focused and full of intent.

Cardan made the same movement for possibly the hundredth time, which elicited a drawn out and dramatic groan from Jude as she threw her head back in exasperation, “I keep telling you, not that, you need to—” Jude groaned again before stepping behind Cardan and reaching around his body to grab his wrist, “You need to do this.” Cardan felt sparks erupt across his skin as her breath hit the back of his neck, trying desperately to focus on the way her hand twisted his wrist and pushed out his arm and not on the way he could feel a ghost of her lips right above his shirt or the way his tail was flicking back and forth, wanting to reach out and around one of her legs, trapping her against him.

After a few repetitions, Jude stepping back, and Cardan didn’t know whether to thank her or beg her to come back. He tried the movement again and this time he thought Jude was going to kill him with the glare she shot at his hand. He tried to shrug, and she groaned again.

“Perhaps this is a signal that we should stop?” Cardan offered, hoping that Jude would take him up on his offer and he could stop pretending like he even knew what scenario he would need use this movement in.

“Perhaps.” Jude echoed, looking lost in her thoughts, no doubt still trying to think of some way she could help fix his issue.

Cardan walked over to a table and placed the dagger he had been using next to a variety of other knives before he was interrupted.

“You know what? No. That’s not happening. I taught you all of this so that we could spar, so before we’re done, we’re going to spar.”

As Cardan turned to face Jude, readying some response about that being unnecessary and there always being tomorrow, he was faced with a fearsome sight, Jude standing just behind him, Nightfell drawn and a blaze in her eyes. His throat bobbed as he reached to pick up the dagger just in time for Jude to make her first strike.

Cardan didn’t know how he blocked it, his arm instinctively reaching out while his wrist twisted so he could stop her blade from slicing his side.

“Of course, now you get it,” Jude’s voice filled the training room as she stepped back, so that they could spar in the middle of the room.

As soon as Cardan reached Jude, he knew he made a mistake. She was relentless, all offense and power and grace, and it felt like all he could do was struggle to hold onto his dagger and hope he wouldn’t get cut.

She swung her sword around in mesmerizing arcs before reaching out to continue her attack, stepping towards Cardan so she could push him away from the center of the room. Cardan knew he should lash out, at the very least he should find a way to move away from exactly where Jude wanted him to be, but he couldn’t find any openings. She was unstoppable, a force of nature pushing against him and forcing him to use every ounce of training he had just to stay in one piece.

As soon as Cardan felt one of his feet hit the wall behind him, he knew he was done for. He was trapped and definitely the worse swordsman—knifeman? —and he knew he couldn’t get out of the reach of Nighfell or block Jude’s attacks forever. Jude’s eyes lit up when she saw Cardan freeze, using the opportunity to let her sword clatter to the floor, take Cardan’s dagger from his hand, and push him against the wall, holding the knife to his throat, all in one maneuver.

Cardan breathed heavily, looking into Jude’s eyes hoping she understood this was him surrendering.

“Come on Cardan, how do you ever expect to win a real fight if you can’t even stop me from unarming you?” Jude’s voice was a little breathless, despite the lack of sweat on her body and the steady heartbeat Cardan could feel through her chest and she pinned him to the wall.

He grinned.

-----

Jude suddenly felt unsure of her victory. Yes, she had a weapon poised in the perfect position for a killing move. Yes, she had him trapped. Yes, she had the upper hand.

But then his hands were on her waist and he gave her one of his stupid smiles, the one that she didn’t know how to respond to, and he whispered, “Come on, love, we both know I’m already winning in this situation.”

Jude forced herself to keep her grip on the dagger, but she knew he could feel her pulse stutter then speed up, and suddenly she didn’t know whether to curse or thank her past self for deciding the best way to beat Cardan was to use her body to trap him against the wall. It felt oddly reminiscent of their first kiss, where she thought she had him exactly where she wanted him, but then he somehow gained all the control. As his hands pulled her even closer—she didn’t even realize that was possible—she resigned herself to losing just this once and let her hand fall down to her side and the dagger slip from her grip.

His lips were on her jaw first, making her head fall back with a groan as he worked his way down her throat. Jude felt a little stupid for letting herself give into Cardan’s charms so easily—was that really all it took? A cocky comment and a touch? –but quickly pushed thoughts of stupidity and regret out of her mind as he took her face in his hands so he could crash their lips together. It was a breathless mess of teeth and lips and tongue, as their hands pulled on each other, trying to get closer, closer. Jude felt like she was making up for that first kiss, where Cardan was drunk, and she was confused, and everything was hiding behind too many falsities and lies to even begin to unravel the truth about either of their feelings. But now—when she had Cardan in her arms and her feelings sorted and a ring on her finger—she felt like this was what that first kiss could have felt like, in some different life where things weren’t as complicated.

All the thoughts of the past were quickly shut out as Cardan flipped them around, so that Jude’s back was against the wall, and lifted her up so that he could kiss her deeper. Jude felt lost in him, she knew she must be doing something, after all Cardan was gasping into her mouth, but she couldn’t take her focus away from Cardan and his hands and his lips long enough to even think about where her hands were. As Cardan pulled his lips from hers, leaving Jude making a rather undignified noise in the back of her throat—a noise she would most definitely deny making if asked about it at a later date—he panted and held a finger to her lips.

“Jude.” Cardan’s voice was rough and low. “Jude, I think someone is coming in.”

As soon as he said the words, Jude could hear voices and nearing steps through the door. She groaned, letting her face fall onto Cardan’s shoulder before unwrapping her legs from around him and walking back to where she had dropped Nightfell. As the door opened to reveal the Bomb and the Roach, Jude turned back to Cardan who had just barely reached the dagger he had been using all afternoon, she grinned dangerously before asking, “Want to spar again?”

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 10

It is not better in the morning.

Previous

Read chapter 10 on AO3 or read below (but be warned, there’s mature content in this one):

Once again, it’s hard to sleep. I dream of kissing Cardan, who is actually Locke, and I am wearing Taryn’s pink prom dress. And that’s the tamest of them; I have more graphic nightmares that I won’t recount here, except to say that they are awful. Every time I wake up I am either too hot or too cold. I eventually decide I am most comfortable with one leg pushed outside of the blankets and fall into a light doze.

About two hours into my botched attempt at sleeping, I awaken to some odd noises and realize that Cardan is also awake. A moment later, I realize he must think I am still asleep, because when I look over at him there can be no other explanation for what he is doing.

As before, he is in slightly sharper focus than everything else in the room. I thought I’d find him lying down, but he is sitting up with his back against the wall, and his head is bowed forward. He is definitely trying to be quiet, but it is very clear to me from his weird breathing and the sound of skin on skin and the movement of his hand what is going on.

I shouldn’t watch. I know I shouldn’t. But I woke up turned on my side toward him and I can’t turn over or he might realize I’m awake. I can’t even imagine what would happen then. Would he stop? Would he come over? Would I invite him over? I don’t know which possibility terrifies me more.

His breathing grows more labored and he brings his free hand up to his mouth to muffle the sounds that fall out of it. I hate the way my heartbeat skips at every one, the way every muscle in my body clenches with want, with need. I stay quiet, though, watching with hungry curiosity as he curls over himself and makes a strangled sound, almost but not entirely swallowed up by his palm. His shoulders shake.

When it’s over—and I am marveling at how I just watched him jerk off—he sighs, a long, exhausted sigh that somehow really endears him to me. I want to crawl over to him and nuzzle at his neck. I want to drape my body over his body so we can keep each other warm. I want to lick his hand clean, a thought that I recoil from even as I have it. That can’t possibly taste good, and yet—

“Ah, shit,” he whispers. He’s looking down at his hand, and my delusional omega brain wonders if I should go offer to lick it. But then he pulls off one of his already dirty socks and uses that. He got a shower today, but being stuck in a dirty room the size of my stepmother’s walk-in closet negates that fast. Honestly, after being stuck down here for days, I’m not sure we’ll ever be clean again.

Cardan’s head falls back against the wall. His clean hand grabs for something at his side, and when he presses it to his face, I realize it’s my sweatshirt. He exhales again, and it must be my imagination, but it sounds suspiciously like my name. He takes a few, deep breaths, then puts it back down and curls up on his side, using it as a pillow.

I feel like I have been holding my breath this entire time, but I keep holding it a little longer, just in case. There is a pulsing, demanding heat in me, concentrated between my thighs, but, as I always do, I push it to the side. I curl my knees to my chest, and hope it will be better in the morning.

---

It is not better in the morning.

When I open my eyes, it is to the migraine that threatened me yesterday finally breaking, like someone’s jammed a railroad spike into my left eye. The fever is roaring, too, and I pull my leg back inside the blankets and wrap myself up tight, but my shivering doesn’t stop. My muscles have acquired a dull ache that makes me think they’d be bruised if I could peel my skin back and look.

I think I half-expected to find that Cardan had crawled on top of me in his sleep. Then I would wake up, then he would do it, and it would be an awkward thing to work around while kidnapped but at least the worst of my symptoms would abate. But Cardan is still by his corner where I’d seen him fall asleep last night, except now he’s curled up in a ball around my sweatshirt. So there would be no morning hump session, which is good, because I am not yet at the point where that seems more alluring than scary, awkward, intimidating.

My mouth is dry, and I turn over to reach for the water bottle, but it is empty. When had it emptied? Did I empty it?

“Cardan,” I whisper. That’s all it takes to jolt him out of sleep. He sits up, and rubs his eyes, which then widen when he looks at me so I must look really terrible.

“Shit,” he says again, which brings back echoes of him saying it in the night, which just makes my entire body seize up because he’d been jerking off—over me? or over the situation?—and there was an increasingly urgent part of my brain wondering why he’d had his dick in his hand when he could have put it in me. And then, ow, a cramp on top of everything else. As if everything else weren’t enough.

I paw for the pills the Bomb left me and swallow them dry, hoping for some relief from the headache, even though it won’t be immediate. Then I start to push up to my hands and knees.

“No, no,” says Cardan, shoving out a hand but not coming any closer. “No, you just— just wait, I’ll get them. I’ll get you more water.”

“I can do it,” I insist, but it’s taken so much effort just to get this far up and I’m trembling holding myself in place.

“Jude, you look—” He trails off and shakes his head. It must really be that bad. I want to tell him he doesn’t look much better. The circles under Cardan’s eyes have deepened, and he’s already sweating so much that his curls cling to his forehead. But he just sets his mouth in a line and says, “Let me do it.”

In almost any other circumstance I would hate being bossed around by him, but I just flop onto my belly and groan, “Fine.”

Cardan, however, is wired. He must feel as jagged and sleep-deprived as I do, but I can see the extra jittery energy in his every step. I did make that joke about thrusting, but what happens when you box an alpha in rut in a basement with no outlet? Where does that energy go?

Apparently into his fist, because when he pounds on the door it’s so loud that I nearly jump off the mattress. My head throbs. “Hey!” he calls. “Jude needs water!”

There is no answer for a solid thirty seconds. When Cardan glances at me, I am frowning. “They’re usually right outside,” I say, and my stomach plummets at the thought that we’ve been locked in here and just left with no food or water.

“They’re coming,” Cardan replies, probably to reassure himself. He bangs on the door again, this time with even more urgency. “Hey!”

A few seconds later the door opens, and it is not the Bomb standing there, but the Ghost, dressed in black, his face an inscrutable mask. “Alright, I heard you.”

Cardan takes a half-step back from the door, toward me. I pull the blankets tighter around myself and flatten my back against the wall. This was the outcome we had worried about. Everything Cardan had said and done yesterday was to keep our captors out, and especially to keep the Ghost away from me.

“You need to leave,” Cardan snarls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I am surprised at the ferocity in his voice. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him hurt people with a shove or a cruel word. I have never seen him like this.

But the Ghost is unimpressed. Probably because if it came down to a fight between the two of them, he would definitely win, even though Cardan has more muscle. “You can relax,” the Ghost says. “I’m a beta.”

Cardan blinks, and so do I. But then his eyes narrow. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

The Ghost sighs. “Ask your girlfriend if I smell like anything. Her receptors are on overdrive. Even maskers wouldn’t help.”

I expect Cardan to protest that I’m not his girlfriend, and I’m about to open my mouth to say he isn’t my boyfriend, when he looks at me and asks, softly, “Jude?”

The urge to deny anything is knocked right out of me, and I inhale, concentrating. It’s difficult to get anything beyond Cardan’s scent and mine, both of which hang heavy in the stagnant air, but I do pick out something. I look up at Cardan. “Just hand soap. He smells like hand soap.”

Cardan looks skeptical.

“I’m less of a danger to her than you are in this state,” the Ghost says. “I can help her out of the room. Let me.”

In this state. He has to know, then. Uneasily, Cardan moves aside to let the Ghost into the room, tracking him as he walks over and crouches at my side. The Ghost presses a cool hand to my forehead while looking at my sweaty, tangled hair.

“Why didn’t you say you’re a beta?” I ask, shivering.

“Wasn’t relevant. When did you last take medicine?”

“A few minutes ago. What about the Roach and the Bomb?”

“Do you introduce yourself to people by telling them you’re an omega?” It’s a rhetorical question, because he then says, “We have to get you into the shower. I’ll help you up.”

I nod. I know what I look like and what I smell like, and I am not so proud that I won’t accept his help.

“Hey,” Cardan begins, when the Ghost reaches out to put an arm around my shoulder, but I give him a look and he doesn’t say anything else, although the set of his jaw tells me he’s unhappy. He crosses his arms.

“Cardan,” the Ghost says, “can you go turn the water on for her? The old heater takes a while to get started. Make it warm to start, not hot. She can turn it up if she needs to.”

“Right,” Cardan says, and over the Ghost’s shoulder I see him nod and leave.

“He listened to you,” I marvel as the Ghost peels the blankets from my body and helps me to my feet. I should feel more self-conscious that I’m wearing only a tank top and underwear and my thighs are definitely crusty with residue, but he isn’t making a big deal of it, so neither am I. Besides, between my shaky legs and my bad ankle, I am a little distracted by the effort of not toppling over.

“Alphas. Temperamental, but they like to feel like they’re doing something.” It seems like a joke, but he doesn’t smile when he says it. He supports my weight easily, and with his help I hobble out of the room.

“You really don’t smell like much,” I inform him. “It’s weird.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Right.” Mentally, I kick myself. And the Ghost doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t either.

As he helps me across the little room, I am very conscious of my body pressed against his and his arm around my shoulder. My hormonal brain, ecstatic that I am being touched, is swimming, trying to tell me I am attracted to him. Am I attracted to him? I mean, I think he’s handsome, objectively. Should I have sex with the Ghost? I probably shouldn’t have sex with the Ghost.

But, of course, those images are provided to me unbidden because the omega part of me is ecstatic that I am willing to actually entertain my horniness. What if the Ghost helped me into the shower and he stayed there with me? And Cardan also stayed? And then what? My rational brain scolds. I don’t know anything about the logistics of having a threesome in a shower. It seems like an easy way to get more injured than I already am.

And while having sex with the Ghost would be simpler from an emotional standpoint because I barely know him, he is a beta, so it would not actually solve any of my current, heat-related problems. Also, Cardan would be sad.

Do I care that Cardan would be sad? That’s an uncomfortable thought.

“Oh, thank god,” I say, when we finally reach the bathroom and I see Cardan pacing back and forth in the little hallway and hear the shower stream hitting the old yellow tile in the bathroom. I can’t wait to be clean. I can’t wait for these heat-induced intrusive thoughts to go away either, but unfortunately that’ll take a little longer.

“Do you need any help getting undressed?” the Ghost asks, in a tone so dispassionate that even my omega hindbrain wilts at how obviously uninterested he is.

“I think I can manage,” I say, mostly because I can, but also because Cardan looks like he’s on the verge of tearing the Ghost’s throat out, and I still think the Ghost would win that fight but I’m suddenly not sure. We’ll all be glad when this is over.

So I limp into the bathroom, close and lock the door behind me, and tear off my sweat-soaked tank top and my underwear. Instead of standing in the shower, I grab the soap and sit right down, not caring if the floor is gross. I nearly start crying when the water hits my skin, and am almost surprised it doesn’t start steaming around me. It feels cool, so I turn it up a little until I’m comfortable. Then I begin scrubbing myself all over.

It takes a long time before I feel clean. My body still reacts to the lingering traces of Cardan’s scent that cling to my skin and hair. But I discover that someone’s stocked the shower with a set of floral shampoo and conditioner that claims to be “scent-dampening.” Small text on the back advises that they “may have diminished effect during periods of heat or rut,” but I pour a good third of the bottles out into my hands and wash and condition my hair, detangling it with my fingers. I wash my pubic hair, too, just in case it’ll help.

When I step out of the shower, feeling much better, I eye my gross clothes and dread putting them back on. But on the closed toilet, neatly folded, someone has left me an alternative: one of those loose maxi dresses you can find hanging on a rack in the back of a Walgreens, for cheap. I pull it over my head; it’s olive green, and too long, but it fits okay otherwise. There are also some soft black shorts, which I put on under the dress. There’s no replacement for my underwear, so I wash it in the sink, wringing it out as best I can, and leave it to hang dry on the towel bar.

When I step out, Cardan, who has now taken to pacing the main area with his head bowed sulkily forward, perks up. “Hey,” he says. “You look… wow, a lot better. Your scent’s— you’re better.” His nose wrinkles. “The shampoo’s a little weird, though.”

“Not a fan of lavender?”

“It just doesn’t really…” He gestures vaguely. “...like, go with you. It’s the opposite of what you are.”

I limp over to an empty chair and ease myself into it. Because I am so tired that my filter is totally worn away, I ask, “What do I smell like to you, anyway?”

“It’s…” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and fidgets. I notice his feet are still bare, and nearly blush, remembering what had happened to his sock. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, I probably smell like a lot of things at once to you, too, right?”

I nod. “But if you had to choose,” I press, and brace myself, trying to anticipate the worst thing he could say. Methane gas, rotten fish, a dump?

“Cinnamon, I guess,” Cardan admits.

“What?” I sit forward in my chair. “You hate the smell of cinnamon?”

“No, I.” He looks flustered, but tries to channel it back into haughty and irritable. “Don’t be stupid. I’m going to go shower.”

“But—” I begin, perplexed, but Cardan has already disappeared.

The Ghost, who had been leaning silently against the wall, pushes off of it to approach me. “I should change your bandages,” he says, crouching down to expect them. I open my mouth, but he anticipates me and looks up, adding, “I know you have questions, but I’m only going through this once. Better wait until Cardan gets back.”

I press my lips into a thin line. I can be patient when it’s important, but I am feeling frayed right now. As he is re-wrapping my leg, I blurt out, “How do you know what to do if you’re a beta?”

“What, with your leg?”

“No, with—” I look down at him and find him raising his eyebrows. He had been joking. I sit back in my chair, pouting.

“My dad was an omega,” he explains. “My mom was an alpha. I saw all sides of it growing up, even if I didn’t go through it. Three days every few months I’d be on my own.”

“Was that hard?”

“It was what it was.” He gives me another look. “Now wait.”

I scowl at him. “Can I have a mandarin?”

Maybe happy not to be talking, he gets up to get one from a bag slumped on top of the mini-fridge. I catch it when he tosses it to me, and alternate between picking at it and taking sips from a fresh water bottle until Cardan emerges from the shower, damp and cleansed of sweat. He sits down across from me, and I scrunch up my nose. Lavender doesn’t really suit him either.

“I told Jude I’d only go through this once,” says the Ghost, who seems happier to remain standing. “But I think I can guess your first question. Yes, we all knew what was going on. Pretty much from the get-go. We didn’t say anything because you guys were being cagey for some reason, but we figured we could get you the supplies you needed anyway, no harm done. I only said something because I’m the only one here, and Cardan wasn’t going to give me access otherwise.”

Cardan shifts. I ask, “Why are you the only one here?”

The Ghost blinks at me. That wasn’t the follow-up he was expecting. “The Bomb and the Roach were called away.” He shrugs. “Might be good news, might be bad. Hard to say. They figured I could handle things alone while you were in heat. It’s not like either of you are in a state to go anywhere.”

“So, what, you’re all betas?” Cardan asks, cutting me off before I can follow up.

“Yes.”

He frowns. “We thought you were using maskers.”

“It wasn’t a bad assumption,” the Ghost says. “People in our line of work often do, so we can’t be traced by scent. Betas make good spies, too. Any profession that requires stealth.”

I hadn’t thought about that, but it makes sense. “So were you recruited because you were a beta, or…” My stomach sinks as I consider another possibility. “You were all, like, born… nobody made you this way, right?”

The Ghost hesitates, then says, “I was, yes. The others’ stories aren’t mine to tell.”

Cardan gawps at me. “You’re thinking they were… what, de-designated? Why? To make them better at… crime?”

I shudder. Forcible de-designations were categorized as human rights violations by the United Nations in the early 1970s after certain unethical human experiments came to light. Sure, there are de-designation therapies out there for people whose designations cause extreme dysphoria or health complications, but they take months. The forcible de-designations are quick, and brutal, and painful, and if the subject survives the physical complications, they might not survive the psychological.

“I hope not,” I say, quietly, telling myself that my discomfort is brought around by the idea of anyone suffering such a painful ordeal, not because I like our abductors. I change the subject. “But you were recruited?”

“Yes.”

Man of few words. I hug my arms around my stomach. “Must be nice.”

“The job opportunities or being a beta?”

“Not having to deal with…” I peel one hand away from my abdomen and gesture vaguely.

“No, I don’t envy that.” The Ghost looks between us. “Although I do sometimes wonder what I’m missing out on.”

I glance at Cardan, who, to my surprise, actually looks angry. “If you had fresh clothes for Jude the whole time, why didn’t you give them to her?” he demands. “Why didn’t anybody stay with her? She was stuck in her gross clothes and she was alone, all day.”

Again, the Ghost looks slightly taken aback, although he smooths his face into his usual inscrutable mask in an instant. “The Bomb got these for her yesterday, but she was curled up in her nest and we didn’t know if she’d want to move or be bothered.”

“My nest?” I frown. “No, that’s not right. I don’t have a—”

“It’s a sad nest, but you did pile all the bedding in the room up in one corner.”

“No, that wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—” I look at Cardan in horror, as he is the one who put all the blankets and pillows on me, but he is looking away from me. I shake my head, and some wet hair falls into my face. “It’s okay that I was alone. I think it was better. Don’t worry about it.”

I feel the Ghost watching me closely, and shift in my seat. “It’s not shameful, what’s happening to you,” he says at last. “Plenty of people go through it all the time.”

“Not you,” I retort.

“Maybe not, but I’ve been around long enough and seen enough to know there are upsides to being an omega.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Like what?”

The Ghost’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to tell you?”

“Yeah.” I glance at Cardan, who’s slouching in his chair and pretending to ignore both of us. “Tell me how my life doesn’t totally suck right now.”

He looks at me, then at Cardan, then says, “I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

Next

[mmvalentine]

Perfect | Jurdan

Post QoN smut. Again.

My name is Jude and I am the Queen of Elfhame.

That is an achievement of my own making and not one I was simply born into, and this is a fact I am proud of. By my own skill I have become just as clever, just as quick, and just as wicked as any of them.

And still there are days when I can’t stand them. Any of them.

It makes me so angry, and if I am perfectly honest that is more because I think this is my greatest remaining weakness. That despite the crown I wear and the throne I sit on, the things that I cannot achieve prickle at me like a protruding bone in my corset.

Worst of all of them is Cardan.

For the most part, our marriage delights me. Surprising, for the both of us, but true. The power and the rule, I always knew I wanted, and always knew I was ready to wield. What I did not expect was to rush from the throne room every night, out of breath despite having been seated for the better part of the evening, desperate for Cardan’s hands on me. The fact that he reacts the same way to me makes me delirious.

And yet some days, not often but irritatingly strong, comes the remembrance that even now, there was something not equal about us. Even though there are many hard-won parts of myself that I love, there are some that I can’t help but at best be conscious of and at worst despise.

Today is such a day.

It’s a little thing, really. A stupid and insignificant thing that pushes me over the edge.

A lord from a distant court has come to visit Elfhame and pay his respects to the King and Queen. Nothing unusual; he comes bearing gifts of his land. Baskets of enormous, fat cherries the colour of ox blood for me. Garnets that match the size and shine of them. Garlands of white flowers I have never seen before. And for Cardan, the most beautiful fae girl I have ever seen.

She peeks out at us from long, thick lashes, while her snowy hare-ears fall behind her to her waist. She wears a pearl coloured dress cut to reveal triangles of milky skin around her torso, and the slit up the side shows of legs that go on forever. Her pale, heart-shaped face is dusted with golden freckles, and her large, liquid eyes are wholly black.

“What’s this?” Cardan asks softly.

“For you, my King,” the lord says.

“And what am I to do with her?” Cardan asks. The lord gives a grin that is all teeth.

“What ever you like, my King.”

“I see,” is all Cardan says, and with a wave the lord is escorted out. Cardan sighs, and says to the girl, “I have no need of your services, you may return home or make a living here, I care not.”

The girl blinks several times, opens her mouth, then thinks better of it. She makes a small bow, and then steps back into the crowd.

I sorely wish I could say that is the end of it. That I think of her no more, that I go back to our room and gorge on the mammoth cherries until the juice runs down my chin and my husband licks me clean.

But instead I find myself watching her move through the crowd. Shy at first, but of course fae flock to her and her delicate beauty. I watch her laugh and demure, I watch her shift in her seat so that her dress rides further up and her knee brushes someone else’s. Within the hour she, three male fae and one female have risen and are looking for the darker corners of the hall.

And I remember that it has never, never been that easy for me.

I wonder if any of her lovers know her name. I wonder if her lord had thought Cardan unsatisfied with his notoriously mortal bride. I wonder if Cardan thinks she’s beautiful.

Of course Cardan thinks she’s beautiful, she’s objectively gorgeous. In that fae way, in that ethereal, untouchable, undeniable way. In a way I will never be, and it used to bother me growing up around beautiful creatures until I ruled them. And now it only bothers me on days like today.

“Let’s go,” I say to Cardan, and abruptly stand. Cardan raises an eyebrow, but does not ask questions as he follows my lead. I take us out of the throne room and back to our bedroom, and I can’t help but close the door a little too firmly.

Cardan leans back against the door with his arms folded. I take his hands and pull them away, placing them on my backside instead as I step into his chest and put my mouth on his throat.

The thing I like most about being with Cardan is that he is always ready for me. He doesn’t ever tell me to slow down, or look caught by surprise. And this time, like any time, he just chuckles and lets his head fall back against the door as his hands squeeze my ass and my tongue finds the soft part under his jaw. When I suck against his skin, he moans slightly, and when he hardens against my lower abdomen, satisfaction curls in my belly. Even though he can’t lie, it’s his body I believe more than anything.

Tell me I’m pretty, I want to beg, but I won’t let myself say the words out loud. I feel pathetic for wanting it, and that makes me angry, and the anger bleeds through my teeth where they touch his ear. Cardan growls, and in the next second he’s got a fist tight in my hair so my head is pulled back away from him.

“Sharp tonight, my Queen,” he says, eyes glittering darkly. He walks me back toward the bed, not letting go of his grip on my hair.

“I just thought,” I say, my chin lifted even as my hands pull at the fastenings of his trousers, “that I would remind you who you belong to.” Cardan smirks.

“What, jealous my love?” he says, a sneer twisting his face. I slap him hard, hating the accusation as much as I hate that it is true. Cardan snarls and pushes me back against the bed. I try to sit up but his hand whips out, grabbing a hold of my throat and pushing me back down. His body follows, and then his face is inches from mine and the weight pinning me down is everything that I need.

“You are jealous,” he says and suddenly his face gets so soft. Still, he doesn’t lift his hand from my throat.

In fact he only moves his forefinger to pull down my bottom lip, and then squeezes while his other hand slides up my thigh and pushes my skirts up. He keeps eye contact with me as he takes his cock and runs his hand over it a few times. Looks down at his finger hooked in my mouth, looks back up at my eyes.

“Don’t you know by now that you’re mine,” he says huskily, and then pushes hard inside me.

We both gasp as out hips meet. I’m wet from being choked, and before I have time to reflect on that, Cardan’s kissing me. He releases my throat only to tangle his fingers in mine and trap my hands above my head. I sigh into his mouth, and Cardan moves out and then back into me with a slow roll of his hips that has mine stuttering beneath him.

“Sweet fucking god you feel good Jude,” he moans, and moves again. He’s so slow and deliberate that I feel every inch of him, and already the angry thing in me is being soothed and being replaced by something else. Something wilder, and hungrier. I lift my hips to meet him, getting more skin contact. Cardan groans and licks up the my throat. When he kisses me again, I let his tongue slide against mine for only a minute before I’m biting hard against his lip, and the pain of it has him shuddering. He laughs softly, and then ducks his head to nip at my nipple in retaliation. I give a little yelp, and he moves and bites the other one before it turns into a sucking kiss.

“Do you know how perfect you are?” Cardan murmurs, and his hips speed up while he stares down at me. My eyes slide closed, and I arch my back to get him deeper, since my wrists are still pinned above me and I can’t touch him.

“Not perfect like you,” I say, breathless now. “Not perfect like fae.”

“And all the more beautiful for it,” he says, and now when he kisses my breasts he is not biting but reverent, gentle even as his hips between my legs are landing harder with every stroke.

Finally, Cardan lets my hands go, and I can’t touch enough of him. I reach for his back, his hair, his backside, and finally lace my fingers together behind his neck. He curves one hand around a breast, and the other lifts my ankle to his shoulder as his forehead presses against mine and he moves deeper inside me. His tail tightens almost painfully around my calf.

“It’s you Jude,” he says, breathing heavily now. “You’re the only one who does this to me.” He presses his thumb to my clit as his hips jerk more erratically. “You’re the most.. the most perfect thing I…” the words fall away from his lips as he starts to pound into me in earnest, and my nails dig into the back of his neck as the world begins to dip away from me.

“Tell me,” I gasp, already knowing what he is saying but needing to hear it still. I have a stupid, fickle human heart and I always need to hear it from Cardan. He bites his bottom lip between his teeth as he conjures the coherence to form words.

“The most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, his eyes unfocused now as pleasure nips at our heels. “The most perfect thing… I’ve ever held in my hands.”

Cardan’s thumb moves in tight circles and the coil low in my belly aches. “Are you mine, Cardan?” I ask him, desperately now.

“Of course,” he pants. “Always yours. Only yours.” And that is the chant that is lifeblood to my veins and the salt in my tears. I blink them away as they come, and Cardan puts his fingers in my mouth and lips to my ear.

“Come for me, pretty villain,” he whispers, and just like that, I do.

I come hard while his cock is still sliding in and out of me, and his hands hold me down and teeth stroke my skin. My moan snags on the tears in my throat, and when I think I am slowing down, Cardan comes too, and it makes his hips punch forward so hard that I’m coming all over again because all I really want is for him to want me this much.

****

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver @realbookloverproblems

[laequiem]

Mal d’amour - Part 5

/5 times the High King of Elfhame missed his exiled wife + 1 time she had enough.

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand.

Cardan’s.

read on ao3 • masterlist • part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4 • last part

Cardan

It was already dark when I woke up from my dream and gave the package to Liliver. Due to mortals’ strange habit of living during the day, we have to wait the entire night before one of the spies can deliver the package. 

Needless to say, I do not pay much attention to the various meetings and meals I attend during the night. I doubt courtiers notice, given my usual blasé attitude. 

My participation in today’s revel consists mostly of drinking wine and asking the servants for more wine. Whenever someone approaches me for requests or conversation, I reply so shortly that they leave quickly. Nearing sunrise, the Ghost approaches and tells me the package is on its way.

I try to look like I am at least enjoying the revel in front of me. My tail is curled around my calf to prevent it from lashing wildly and betraying my nervousness. My fingers drum absentmindedly on the armrests of the throne as I stare distantly at nothing.

I only last half an hour after the Ghost’s appearance before I retreat from the throne room. 

The Bomb

The air of Portland, Maine stinks of iron and gasoline. Nothing like the mossy and flowery scent of Elfhame. Liliver lifts her scarf over her glamoured face, hoping the fabric will filter some of the iron out. It doesn't work, not really, but at least she will not be staying here for long.

High King Cardan has assigned her the task of delivering a package, as if her talents weren't better used elsewhere. She had agreed, or course—money is money. Plus, she hopes to sneak a glimpse of Jude and assess how her friend is doing. 

Ever since she left, she has been fighting the urge to peek at the contents of the package. It is about the size and weight of a dinner plate and is delicately wrapped in dark green fabric. Seeing how the King hid the thing, it must be quite valuable.

From the rooftop of the building opposite Vivienne Duarte’s apartment, Liliver can see Jude. She is sprawled on an old couch, numbly looking at some square box with moving images. She seems to be the only person in the small house right now—the perfect moment to deliver the package. The High King has made it clear that Jude has to be seen receiving it. Liliver cannot blame him for being careful. 

She makes her way across the street, climbing the stairs as quietly as she can. After placing the box on the floor, she presses the button next to the door and knocks twice. She then jumps to the roof of the adjacent building, making sure she has a good view of the door.

And then she waits.

Jude

Jude groans as she gets up from her spot on the couch for the first time since waking up this morning. Vivi left for work hours ago. Usually, she tells Jude when she is expecting a delivery. Maybe the person rang the wrong doorbell. Still, Jude makes her way to the front door. A peek through the peephole reveals that nobody is on the other side. 

It’s been 30 seconds, they better not have put one of those “sorry we missed you!” notices or else she swears—

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand. 

Cardan’s.

Her chest tightens and she takes a deep breath. Is this hope or fear? It is her first time hearing from Cardan in more than six months. Part of her hopes that he will revoke her banishment and ask her to come back, but why would he? He is finally free to rule the kingdom by himself and be as cruel and unhinged as he wants to be.

The package looks out of place here, everything from the dried flowers used to decorate it to its delicate grassy smell scream Faerieland.

Jude closes the door behind her as she brings the package inside, certain that someone is out there watching her. She won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her reaction. She shoves the clutter off the coffee table and puts the package on it as she sits on the couch once again.

For a few minutes, she just stares at it, wondering if it isn’t better to just throw it out. 

Like he threw me out, she hears the intrusive thought over the roaring in her head, loud and unwelcome. 

She clenches her jaw, then undoes the strings tying the fabric together. Inside is a nicely carved wooden box topped by a folded piece of paper. She picks up the piece of paper and unfolds it. Her hands are shaking slightly, with fear or rage she does not know. 

When she reads it, however, the rage takes over.

I miss you.

Your devoted servant,

Cardan

Jude crumples the piece of paper in her hand and lets it fall to the floor. She opens the box and immediately sees red. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she screams to herself as she picks up the crown, its jewels sparkling in the artificial light of Vivienne’s apartment.

She has never seen it before. Cardan either found it deep in the vault or he had it made only to send it to her as a sick joke. In a fit of rage, she throws the crown against the wall and storms to her room. 

Her clothes are scattered everywhere, some of them lying on her air mattress for what might have been weeks. She picks out the darkest, most flexible clothes, then reaches under her mattress for Nightfell.

If it’s trouble he’s after, he’ll find her. 

Cardan

“I almost feel bad, Your Majesty,” the Roach says, “pay up.”

I knew trying to sleep was useless, so I headed for the Court of Shadow headquarters instead, where I have been playing cards with the Roach and the Ghost for hours now.

“I hope you’re not cheating,” the Ghost replies, “the punishment could be deadly.”

I lost every single game.

I am not paying enough attention to win.

The cards in my hands are blurry, their numbers and designs utterly meaningless. 

All I can think about is Jude.

Jude, opening my package and packing her things to come back here. 

Jude, opening my package and immediately throwing it out. 

Jude, immediately throwing the package out without looking inside.

This woman has occupied my every thought for years, and I still cannot predict her moves. She is a puzzle, a challenge I want to lose myself in solving. All I can hope for is that she opened it, at least. 

My last letter. My last gift. My last chance.

If this is all the time I had with her, I royally (urgh) fucked up. 

The Roach gathers the jewels from the middle of the table and brings them to his side.

I discard my hand and reach out to shuffle the deck when his attention snaps to the door, to the small form who just entered.

Immediately, I get up and walk to meet the Bomb.

“Did you find her?” I ask

“Yes,” she says, “She picked it up. I could not confirm that she opened it, but she brought it inside.”

“How is she?” I cannot stop the questions from pouring out of me.

“She looks… different,” she frowns.

I understand she is trying to find a way to phrase it without upsetting me. I do not even know what would upset me more, her being happy in the Mortal Realm, or her being miserable. 

“I see,” I sigh, “Thank you.”

The words feel wrong coming from me—yet they seem right in the moment. I do not know if I have ever thanked someone before. But these people, Jude’s spies, have been dealing with me for the last half-year. They have seen me at my lowest. I cannot go much lower than crying after a particularly gruesome nightmare.

I did not tell them this was my last time reaching out to Jude. From the look of pity in the Bomb’s eyes, she knows. I can’t stand it. I walk past her and leave the Court of Shadows.

The hallways are almost empty as I make my way to the cellars. The guards stand straighter as I pass the various rooms, but none of them stop me or try to talk to me. 

When I get to the cellars, I grab the worst bottle I can find. I wish the royal cellars had some really low quality alcohol—a budding brewer’s first try, anything that would taste as bad as I feel—but even the worst of the collection is still good. I drink the whole bottle.

Then another.

I drink until I forget.

Forget the responsibilities, the kingdom resting on my unworthy shoulders.

I try to forget about Jude, but I black out before I can.

[charincharge]

Kiss and Cry, Part 8

jurdan figure skating au > masterlist

AN: Whoops, sorry this one took a while to get out. I’m hoping it was worth the wait, though? 

Madoc was in a foul mood, and Jude knew she only had herself to blame.

She sipped at her bone broth and slunk beneath the thick blankets on the couch as she ignored the angry whispers coming from the kitchen.

Jude had never taken a sick day in her entire life. She’d once gone to practice with a fever of 102.4, insisting that she was completely fine. So, she knew Madoc’s raised eyebrow at her claiming she needed the day off due to a stomachache was completely warranted.

She should have come up with a better excuse; she knew it was flimsy at best. But, she couldn’t stomach seeing Cardan again. Not when she still couldn’t stop thinking about his lips on hers. She must be ill to be so focused on something so appalling. She felt completely out of her mind. And she knew it wouldn’t be magically fixed by tomorrow when she’d absolutely be forced back to rehearsal, but at least she could have one day off to pretend. She burrowed further into her blankets as Madoc’s voice raised again.

“We’re losing an entire rehearsal day!” he hissed at Oriana’s insistence that Jude should rest if she needed to.

Jude knew she’d have to work twice as hard the rest of the week to make up for today, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Oriana asked, placing a mug of ginger tea on the side table, as she perched herself on the edge of the couch to examine Jude’s face.

“Just tired, mostly,” Jude answered.

Oriana’s slender finger delicately traced the dark circles beneath Jude’s eyes as a prominent frown appeared on her face. She shook her head. “I keep telling him he’s working you too hard.”

“He’s not—” Jude insisted, but Oriana’s stern glare cut her off.

“If you keep going at this rate you’re going to burn yourself out.” She paused, her eyes growing wistful as she whispered, “You need to take care of yourself.”

Jude nodded in understanding. Oriana’s dreams of being a skater had been cut short, just like Nicasia’s with an unexpected injury.

“Why don’t you take that tea upstairs and rest in bed?” Oriana asked, smoothing Jude’s hair out of her face in a strangely maternal move. Jude accepted the comfort wordlessly. She and Oriana had never been particularly close – why would they? When Jude’s step-dad had remarried, someone nearly half his age, Jude hadn’t thought the marriage would make it to the end of the year. She was content to ignore the blonde completely. But here they were, nearly a decade later. “I’ll keep Madoc downstairs,” she said with a wry smile, and Jude forced herself to return it. She wasn’t sure if Oriana was being kind due to guilt or to piss Madoc off, but Jude would accept it. If only to keep herself alone for the rest of the day.

She grabbed the tea and headed back upstairs to her room. She pulled her sweatpants off, content to get cozy in her bed in just an oversized t-shirt. If she was playing hooky she was going to try and enjoy herself as much as possible. She set up her laptop and put on some mindless comedy to watch. But despite feigning sickness, Jude could feel fatigue dragging her under. Maybe she had needed a day off. Before she knew it, her eyes shut.

“Jude?” a soft voice pulled her from her fraught dreams, and she blinked sleep away as her eyes fluttered open, squinting in the mid-afternoon sun filtering through her window.

The face from her dreams peered down at her with curiosity, dark and probing, and Jude felt herself tense as she realized that Cardan was sitting at the foot of her bed.

She pushed herself upright, attempting to tame her wild sleep induced curls while simultaneously wiping at her eyes.

“Creep much?” Her voice was still hoarse from her lengthy nap. “What the hell, Cardan?”

He held up his hands protectively and smirked. “Calm down, I just got here.” He cocked his head to the side as he perused her room. “Your mom?” He asked, not knowing what to call Oriana. “Let me in.”

“Traitor,” Jude mumbled under her breath.

Cardan rolled his eyes and pursed his lips – the ones that had haunted Jude’s thoughts for the last two days. “I just had to see it in person. The infallible Jude Duarte, felled by sickness.” He chuckled as he tugged at the neckline of his thick black sweater. “I have to admit, I was relieved to learn you’d fallen ill, and that my presence wasn’t what caused you to vomit.” His lips curled into a wry smile, and Jude felt her cheeks flush unwittingly.

She grabbed at the edge of her blanket and pulled it over her head, hiding her face away from his haughty gaze. His painted nails peeled the blanket from her, tugging it down to reveal her face to his again, and it was much, much closer than she was expecting. Jude’s breath hitched, her eyes flicking down to his lips and back to his curious eyes again.

He tugged at his dark hair and sighed. “I know you’re not sick, Jude,” he breathed.

Jude couldn’t be looked at like that anymore. There was something about his gaze that managed to see through her always. She reached down and pulled the blankets over her head again.

“Why are you hiding from me?” he asked, his fingers dancing along the edge of her shoulder, through the blanket, slowly creeping up, letting her know he was headed to pull it down again.

“Because I kissed you,” Jude finally grumbled from beneath her comforter, and she frowned as Cardan tugged it down again, a pleased smile across his face as he leaned even closer to her.

“Oh.” Cardan stated, leaning impossibly closer to her face, his nose just a hairs breadth away hers. “Is that all? I get kissed quite a lot, you know,” he smirked.

“Exactly,” Jude huffed.  “It’s embarrassing.” She sighed, scrunching her nose in discomfort. He was too close.

“Why?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Jude admitted, her stomach swirling with nerves.

“Is that so?” Cardan asked, his eyes alight with desire as he let his nose brush against hers. Jude gulped. “I don’t blame you,” he said, his warm breath fanning across her face. “It was a very memorable kiss. One of my favorites.”

“Shut up, Cardan,” Jude said, and brought his lips down against her in a hard kiss. Their noses mashed against each other, until there was no room between them. Jude’s hand knotted in his dark hair, tugging him impossibly closer, and Cardan groaned, opening his mouth to her as Jude relished in the waves of desire that prickled across her skin.

This. This is what she had dreamed about. What set her on edge, feeling completely unhinged. What had kept her stomach in knots for the last forty-eight hours.

And when Cardan’s tongue softly brushed against hers, so starkly different from the harsh pressure of his lips against hers, Jude felt as if she’d been lit on fire.

She gasped for air, needing a break from the ceaseless feeling of drowning, but Cardan didn’t cease his affections. Instead, his mouth trailed across her cheek to wrap around the sensitive skin of her ear. She mumbled out something between an “Oh” and an “Ung,” – something so unintelligibly pleasure-filled that she could feel Cardan smile against her as he let his teeth nip at her skin.

Her hands trailed down his torso, pulling him closer until he was sprawled out above her, somehow kicking the comforter down until it pooled by their feet, revealing her bare legs and comfortable underwear, her t-shirt having ridden up around her stomach.

Cardan hovered inches above her body, and she inhaled deeply as his hand ran up her calf, bending her leg at the knee. His curious fingers swept in small circles down the side of her thigh, until they reached the band of her underwear. She shuddered softly as the tip of his finger edged beneath the elastic, just barely touching her where she’d never allowed anyone but her own hands before.

There was a pregnant pause between them, and Jude held her breath as his eyes seemed to ask the question, Is this okay? Is this what you want?

“I still hate you,” Jude said suddenly, breaking the thick silence that hung between them as Cardan’s hands perused her body. She expected his ministrations to pause, but he simply grinned, his eyes boring down on her, sparkling with amusement at her words. “And if you gloat about this, or tell a single soul, I’ll have you killed,” she added, heart pounding wildly at the gentle feel of his deft touch.

Cardan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, a nervous tick that betrayed his outer confidence. “I don’t doubt that for a second, my sweet nemesis.” His voice was low as his fingers slipped further beneath the fabric of her underwear, never stopping swiping back and forth against the sensitive skin of her hip.

She took a deep breath as her legs widened, making room for him between them, and they both exhaled as he let himself fall against her, a lithe finger finally sinking fully under the fabric between her thighs and caressing the skin of her folds.

Jude bit her lip, trying to hold back a moan at the feeling of his finger just barely swiping against her most sensitive part. Her hips lifted ever so slightly, bucking towards his hand, wanting more, needing more, as her feelings overwhelmed her.

Cardan watched her with interest as she squirmed beneath his light touch, legs widening further and hips lifting for more contact, but his finger used the softest of pressure, teasing her until she was panting for more. His obsidian gaze burned darkly as his hand moved beneath the fabric of her underwear, slow calculated movements, until she was a mess beneath him. He loved to torture her; that much was evident.

His finger dipped in further and pulled out just as quickly, leaving Jude annoyed and unsatisfied. She refused to beg him. She just wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, she let her own hand slide between them and join his in her underwear. She pressed his fingers against her palm, pushing them against her with all her strength. His eyes widened in shock at Jude’s motions, but she didn’t have time to appreciate it, because suddenly his fingers were inside her, and she felt like she was going to burn alive.

She fought against the moans that threatened to escape her mouth, panting loudly instead, back arched off the mattress as Cardan’s hand moved inside her.

“Please,” Cardan breathed quietly as his thumb pressed against her clit.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her as her orgasm took her by surprise, legs shaking and hands clenching at her bedsheets as Cardan’s mouth swallowed her sounds of pleasure. His hand never ceased until her twitching legs fell against the mattress with fatigue.

Cardan’s lips kissed hers over and over until her heartbeat slowed and her muscles relaxed, feeling like jelly.

Jude was still in a daze when Cardan pulled his hand from between her legs and licked his fingers, looking far too satisfied with himself. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to care at this particular moment.

“Oh,” she breathed quietly, and watched as Cardan lifted a dark brow towards her.

“You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?” he asked, and Jude shook her head from side-to-side. She had a feeling if she tried to stand right now, her legs would wobble. She couldn’t run anywhere. “Good. Are you feeling better?” he asked, and Jude wasn’t exactly sure she knew how to answer that question. Was she feeling a sense of satisfaction and relaxation she’d never experienced before? Yes. Was she feeling a combination of confusion, self-loathing and anger? Also yes.

She couldn’t believe she’d let Cardan touch her like that. She’d never let anyone do that. Ever.

But with Cardan, she felt herself at his mercy, ready for whatever his hands and mouth wanted to do to her. She cringed, feeling a sudden pang of disgust with herself.

She pulled the blankets back over her, hiding her body away from his intense gaze.

“I still hate you,” Jude said again, but her voice was so breathy, she knew it rung false, even to her own ears.

“So you’ve said,” Cardan sighed, standing from the bed and straightening his sweater and adjusting himself within his pants.

A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation as Oriana poked her head in with a relieved smile. “Oh, Jude. You’re looking flushed, I hope that means your fever broke.”

Cardan rested his hand against Jude’s forehead, which was clammy with the aftermath of their encounter. “You are looking better,” he said calmly. “I must be good for your health.”

Jude snorted far too loudly at that.

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Cardan?” Oriana offered, and Cardan shook his head before Jude could even bother to protest.

“No, I’ll let Jude dear get her rest.” Oriana smiled happily at Cardan’s kind words. “But I’ll see you in rehearsal tomorrow bright and early.”

Jude nodded weakly. “Can’t wait.”

~*~

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[babblesbabble]

A Matter of Trust

Chapter Three

Rating: Explicit | 18+

Read here on AO3

Jude and Cardan kick things up a notch.

They order a number of things from the room service menu, ordering one item at a time. It is, according to Cardan, the best way to savor it and Jude has nowhere else to be tonight. It was her idea in the first place to order food, but it seems she might not be the only one attempting to use the time to their advantage. For Jude there’s not one good reason to reject luxurious food from an expensive hotel, when it’s all being paid for. For Cardan it is an opportunity to show that he’s not the same person.

They begin with a charcuterie board, fresh fruit and cheeses with nuts and bits of bread and jam. Jude would gladly live off the stuff. Then it’s plump crab cakes and a basket of the truffle fries for each of them. And of course, what’s a healthy dose of wooing without dessert? He picks the warm chocolate chip cookies fresh from the bakery next door. They’re notorious on Instagram— Jude must have seen at least a dozen pictures of the large cookies with oozing chocolate chips before. They were a must have for any guest staying at Insmoor.

There is something intimate about sharing a meal with someone. Eating is not exactly the most flattering thing you can do in front of another person, but pretense is probably behind them after she’s had a mind-numbing orgasm under his direction. Jude doubts, at this point there is little she could do that would be a turn off. No, something has formed between them, tentative as it may be, that is caustic.

Jude plucks one of the last green grapes from the remains of the charcuterie board and pops it into her mouth savoring the fresh taste. They have eaten in relative companionable silence exchanging only the occasional courtesy, but she knows their business is unfinished. She has pushed off the conversation for as long as possible. If she starts now, she will feel more in control of the situation, something she is slowly taking back after opening up.

Jude takes a deep breath mentally preparing for the toll of this and beings, “An agreement, that’s what you want to make right?”

“Yes, that way we can go over what we want. What we’re okay with, or not.” Cardan leans back stretching against the chair Jude had once occupied. She tries not to get distracted thinking about what had happened there not so long ago.

“You can start,” she prompts, pulling her legs up to sit crisscross on the couch she’s been occupying. It’s adjacent to the chair and the leftover pickings of their room service is scattered on the coffee table that’s in front of them.

“For now, maybe we can do this once a week. How does that sound?” He proposes.

It’s not exactly what Jude had expected to begin with but it’s as good a place as any. “That sounds fair. We can always agree to more if we want.”

“Right, exactly. I’d also like to spend time with you outside of scenes.” His eyes try to stay on her, and Jude can tell he is nervous to ask this.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” She asks slightly bewildered, a near laugh tinged to her words.

“I… I guess I am, yes. I’m not saying we have to be anything, but it could make things easier if we got along better outside of scene. From what I’ve seen tonight you weren’t all the way comfortable getting into it.”

He had managed to read her fairly well throughout their play it seems. It surprises Jude a bit, but he has been full of surprises.

“It’s vulnerable,” Jude admits. Her brown eyes moving across the room to look at the surroundings once more, all the same and becoming obviously recognizable to her. At the moment it is easier than looking at him. “I don’t ‘do’ vulnerable very well.”

“I think it’s powerful to be able to give yourself over to another. It’s not something just anyone can do.” Cardan shifts forward and carefully places a hand on hers.

She can feel the warmth seeping from his large hand that fully covers her own. It is a kind touch, an attempt at building connection.

She considers his words, “I can see that perspective, and in a way it is. But opening up is… precarious. You showed me at least today that you’re capable. That doesn’t just mean I trust you without question though.”

“I don’t expect you to, Jude. If you didn’t question me, I think that would concern me more,” Cardan laughs a little.

“I’m a bit of a challenge,” Jude shrugs. She’s practically a maze of intricacies and contradictions but she thinks he deserves to have to earn this from her.

“You're worth it,” He says confidently, but pulls back from being so close.

It’s another push of reassurance to her, he wants this with her and he’s willing to do whatever she puts in the way to make it happen. Isn’t that a twist of fate?

“Oh, I hope so. If you’re taking me out, I want an experience,” Jude sits back against the couch.

“Right, you’re a tough sell,” he sighs, but is ready to go along with it. “I’ll figure something out.”

She gives him a grin, “Glad to hear it. I’m so looking forward to it.”

They spend the rest of the night hashing out what they want from this. They discuss limits and absolute nos. Where they want this to go. It is long and not always fun or comfortable for either of them, but on the other side they’re the better for it. By the end of the night Jude would tentatively call what they have a friendship with many benefits. That, she can live with.

Later that week he took her on a trip to the Museum of Sex. She had asked for an experience and he certainly had given her one. It was on the nose for their situation and at first Jude had not appreciated it. It had felt like a joke at her expense and she had nearly walked away from the whole thing until she realized: it was supposed to be fun. Sex is strange, awkward, mysterious, demanding, and many other describable and indescribable things but it is supposed to be fun. And of all things, it had taken an obscenely large dildo and a pegging joke to make her laugh and loosen up. It made her realize that she could have fun with Cardan. Sex and friendship and them—Jude and Cardan—didn’t have to be so serious. Except for when they wanted to be.

It made things easier the next time they played in scene. They did not push the boundaries much but this time he put his hands on her as he directed her. They grazed at her sides and only brushed beneath her breasts, caressing her neck and pressing against her lips like a gentle kiss. It was sweet, delicious, teasing torture in a very pleasing way. As she had leaned back against him post-orgasm, she could feel his hardness against his thigh. He only sat there and didn’t ask for anything in return.

It had happened again the next time and the time after that as he found new ways to make her cum with his fingers and toys. As he learned the curves of her body. He never seemed to ask for anything in return at this point and Jude, only after they had parted, began to wonder if her not offering had been a disappointment. Did it bother him to give her this new world and to hold himself back? She had seen the want in him, his eyes though dark as the richest black coffee, didn’t lie.

She had to ask before the thoughts consumed her and the only way she could bear to was through text.

Jude: Do you want me to touch you?

Cardan: I’d be more than happy for you to. But, do you want to touch me?

Of course. He was waiting for her to want it, to ask for it. For as much as he was the one in control it was only on her terms as she was beginning to realize more and more.

Jude: I do. We both should be getting something out of this.

Cardan: I have been. Seeing you open up to this had been enough.

Cardan: Since you insist though, I’ll work it into my plans for next time ;)

So far, their games have helped Jude find a bit more of the balance she craves. Work may not always keep her interest and the pressure may feel as if it is closing in some days, but she always has something to look forward to at least. There is always a release around the corner.

This time she is going to his place. They had kicked hotels for the comfort and privacy for their personal domiciles. He has his own townhouse not too far from downtown, and she has her own condo in the financial district. They’ve made a lot of progress so far and Jude is ready to make more, even if her stomach twists thinking about it all. The unknown of each scene they play leaves her in stomach churning anticipation, but the new possibilities are what excites her and pushes her. Each time with Cardan was a slow expansion of what she already knows, and she is thirsty for more.

As she stood on his stoop, she felt ready for this. Jude may be plagued by overthinking and overanalyzing, but she isn’t a coward. She certainly didn’t get as far as she has in life without drive. She pulls from that to confidently bound up the steps and press her red manicured finger to the buzzer to announce her arrival.

All she can hear is the sound of the wind whipping down the block and rustling leaves, until he pulls open the door. He’s already got a smile.

The place is big for one person with large high ceilings and at least three floors. The townhouse was traditional brick on the outside, the interior modern yet tastefully decorated with a dark color palette. There was plenty of space to play around in and Jude didn’t have to worry about trying to be quiet. It also reminded her just how much money he had. Cardan inherited a significant amount of money from his father when he passed and real estate was probably the soundest thing he could have done with it.

She sits herself down at a stool by the kitchen that opens into a living area not too far into the place. “So… what’s the plan for today?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says with that familiar smirk.

“I would,” she plays it cool crossing her arms.

“We’re going to start with some new stuff first, then move to more familiar territory. That sound good?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan,” she nods approvingly.

She wants him. It’s something she doesn’t always actively think about because it is always there pulsing under the surface. He has always been frustratingly attractive, a boy with such a poor attitude gifted with such beauty. It has only grown as his temperament and behavior have improved melding into charm. Even as she is with him more and more frequently, his effect on her doesn’t wear off. She doesn’t get used to his freakishly beautiful features. His sharp cheekbones and the defined planes of his body. He is what people imagine when dreaming up heroes.

Her eyes burn across his body. He is dressed simply in jeans and a loose patterned button up she’s sure cost a grand from one luxury store or another. It’s easy to move around in and get off, which is certainly the point for today. She doesn’t really know what he does for work, it has something to do with his family’s company and he didn’t like talking about his family at all. He always seemed to be available and was always dressed more like he’s walked out of a luxury brand’s streetwear runway than from a business meeting.

“You can start by getting down on your knees,” he breaks through her circling thoughts about him.

She stands up and then slowly lowers herself to the ground in front of him. Her eyes stay locked on his own, not moving. Once she is in position she speaks, “How long have you pictured me like this?”

She’s begun to test the bounds of his patience in this. What will he allow her to get away with? Where is the line for him? For herself?

“Long enough,” he looks down at her.

He has a way of looking at someone and seeing right through them.

“Since the first time I bet, I’ve made you wait,” she bites her lip.

“You’ve done as I asked. Which is a miracle.”

“You’ve managed to keep my attention,” she says simply.

“It’s time to keep mine,” his eyes harden. Just as Jude has slipped into her role he is slipping into his. “No more delaying, if you're as brave as you pretend to be, you’ll do it.”

He’s goading her. It lights the fire inside of her, her arousal dawning as she reaches out to pull his dark colored jeans down. He’s not wearing any underwear beneath it so for the first time she’s actually greeted with his cock it’s right in her face. He never was very subtle.

“Someone’s eager,” Judge teases.

“And someone’s a brat.” He lets his hand sink into the curls of her hair, fingers tangling and tugging her forward. They’d discussed it before.

Oh, she likes that. She likes seeing him grab control. She can see just how much he wants her, as she breathes in and forgets to exhale for a moment. Her eyes flit up to his face and then back down. She’ll show him just how good she can be if and when she wants to.

Jude wraps a hand around the base of him, her grip sure. It’s almost a little gross the way her mouth waters and her thighs press together. She opens and takes him in slowly, never once breaking eye contact.

Cardan comes undone, his shoulders fall as if all the tension in his body has gone lax. There’s a vulnerability, an openness to him she hasn’t seen before. He keeps his emotions under the surface and now they have risen to the top. The way he looks at her is reverent. Like she is something worth beholding.

She likes the feeling knowing that this is all her doing. This is her power. Each inch she takes in, each squeeze of her hand reveals his desires. It is when she is as far as she can go, he groans pulling on her hair again. Another pulse of pleasure runs through her center. This shouldn’t give her as much pleasure as it does and yet his pleasure is amplifying her own.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “faster now, be a good girl.”

It echoes in her head a hazy mantra now. She moves faster, one hand gripping the back of his thigh, nails biting into skin. He doesn’t seem to mind the sting, maybe he likes it too. He’s bucking into her mouth now. The tension is high, and she wonders if this is it, if he’s going to-

He’s pulling out now and Jude lets her grip on him go a bit confused by the quick change.

“What-” she stops her voice sounding different to herself, softer.

“Lift up your shirt,” Cardan says as he languidly strokes himself, keeping right on the edge.

It takes a second, but Jude’s hands move to the hem of her shirt and she pulls it up, exposing her stomach and chest.

“Sweet Jude, my resplendent undoing,” he murmurs.

She basks in the sweetness of it—then he’s cumming over her stomach and chest, marking her. She can feel the sticky heat on her bare skin. She should hate it. She should find it degrading and cruel and everything she thought an act like this was, but she doesn’t feel that way at all. Her cheeks are heated, but there’s no embarrassment. Instead, and perhaps this is truly what should shame her, it was gratifying.

“You can put your shirt down now. As much as I admire the view, I’m not finished with you yet,” Cardan’s smirk is back, and Jude’s never seen anything better.

She smiles and lets her shirt drop, “What now?”

“You have some work to do. Come over to the table, it's all set up,” Cardan takes her hand pulling her up to her feet and leading her over. She makes sure not to wobble.

Across the way from the kitchen is a glass dining table. She’s not sure where he’s going with this until she sees at the head of the table are some papers and a pencil.

“Are you testing me?” Jude says almost baffled by what he’s cooked up here.

“You told me once that there was a certain rush that came from getting good grades,” Cardan starts as he makes sure she takes her seat. “Let’s see if it stuck.”

Jude looks down at the papers for the first time. “Are you actually giving me a test right now?”

“Yes,” he says his eyes darkening, “but I think you’ll like your reward much better than a grade.”

He’s going to make her ask, so she does, “And what is the reward?”

“Once you finish, you’re going to lay down on this table and I’m going to eat you out,” he says.

Jude is right back in at that, “Easy.” She shrugs confident she can complete this quickly, it’s only a few pages after all.

“But,” he leans forward close enough that she can feel his breath tickling her ear, “I’m only going to do it for so long. Every answer you get wrong you lose time. I won’t stop though no matter how many times you cum and how much you beg, if you have that long.”

“And if I don’t have long enough?” She can’t take her eyes off him.

“That’s not my problem, is it?” He grins, the master of this wicked delight.

“You are heinous,” Jude snaps hands gripping the edge of the table. She should hate him and in the moment, that’s almost what it feels like, but the anger isn’t true.

“Now, now don’t be so quick to anger. Think of my mouth all over you,” his lips graze her ear as he says it.

Jude’s eyes close as she pictures it, can imagine the feeling of him and the pleasure she’ll get to have. She wants this. He always manages to surprise her with new challenges, and she is game to play them all.

“Let me take the test,” she says eager. “Go stand in the corner or something.”

He laughs at that stepping away and ending his teasing of her, for the moment. He takes position at the opposite side of the table sitting down.

“Whenever you’re ready then,” Cardan says.

Jude picks up the pencil and starts. There are four sections to the test, ten questions for each section and each section a different subject: English, science, history and math. It’s no more difficult than what she learned in school; the problem is that she is out of practice now. Some of it comes easy and other questions she struggles over. All the while she can still feel his cum marking her body, slowly drying and Cardan’s dark eyes watching her from across the table. It’s a heady experience to say the least.

After one last look over, Jude flips the test back to the first page and slides it over to him, “I’m finished.”

He doesn’t say anything just takes the paper and pulls out a red pen to start grading. Jude squirms in her chair, this vision of him and a red pen shouldn’t be as sexy as she finds it. She pushes it aside; she can analyze her peculiar proclivities later.

The silence lingers until he finishes.

“Not bad, but not flawless,” Cardan says. “An eighty. Though I suspect you can do better. I’ll fix that later, homework seems appropriate.”

Each word pushes her deeper into this world they’ve created.

“I’ll do better, I can,” Jude says, she’s looking at him, to him now for more.

“I know,” he takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze. “You did well for your first time. You still get your reward. Clothes off, on the table now.”

Cardan sets the test aside, while Jude slides out of her pants and underwear, pulls off the shirt that’s a bit stuck to her from the cum, before climbing onto the glass table. He takes his position in front of her. He sets a timer and places it down.

“Eight minutes Jude. That’s what you get and not a second more, understand?” Cardan says his thumb stroking her thigh softly.

Jude nods, “Yes, sir.”

Cardan moves in to devour her. It starts with him spreading her with one hand and licking a stripe up her core. That’s enough to make her warm body shiver against the cool glass. He doesn’t stop there, mouth latching onto her clit to tease. Her breathes come quicker, but that’s all the sound she’s making.

He pulls back just enough to talk, but his fingers caress her lips, “This is a reward sweet Jude, don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Cardan returns to her. Jude’s mouth parts letting out a moan she had been keeping in. The release adds to her mounting pleasure. She wonders how much time has passed, but she can’t focus on that for long as he uses both hands to pull her closer to him, her legs now over his shoulders.

“Holy-” she starts to say before it cuts off with a gasp.

He’s dipped his tongue inside of her now, thumb rubbing her clit in circles. Her hands slip against the glass trying to find purchase before she buries them in Cardan’s thick black locks. He does not stop his work and everything builds. She knows the rules and even as far gone as she is, she’s going to do this right.

“Please,” she says, voice breathy and quieter than she’s used to. “Please can I, sir?”

He’s only off of her for a second to tell her his approval before he’s back at it. He told her not to hold back, so she doesn’t. She pulls his hair and screams as she cums. His fingers and tongue are still working at her all the way through it and after they continue. Her body is more sensitive in the aftermath, making her squirm, but he holds her firm. She doesn’t know how much time has passed but she’s cumming again without even asking. Her toes curl and her eyes are firmly shut, and she doesn’t think she can take another minute more when the timer goes off.

Cardan pulls back from Jude careful to gently set her legs down. The timer stops it’s annoying ringing and she can only assume he turned it off. She lays there in the blissful silence until she’s ready to open her eyes. When they do open, he is right there watching over her.

“You did marvelous, Jude” Cardan says, dark eyes locked on her brown ones.

“Yeah?” she asks, not quite all the way back yet.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Are you comfortable there or do you want to move?”

She holds up a hand, “One minute.”

He waits then giving her time and when she starts to move, he offers his hand to steady her and Jude doesn’t hesitate to take it. He moves her to one of the chairs to sit and suddenly there’s a blanket around her shoulders. She’s about to question where he even pulled it from when she looks at the table. All over the once crystal-clear glass she can see the marks of her hands and body, some clear and some smudged. It’s kind of erotic in a weird artistic way.

“Do you think they’d display this in the sex museum?” Jude questions.

“What the table?” he asks, and she nods in answer. “Maybe, though a canvas would probably be better. I’d love to have a personal piece for my collection.”

He winks and Jude scoffs coming back to earth.

“This,” she gestures to the table, “is your personal piece and I expect it to be gone with some Windex before I leave,” she says.

“Of course,” Cardan sighs wistful. “I could eat with that memory here for the rest of my life, but I suppose it is unfair to force that on guests.”

“Don’t act so deprived, you got the real thing,” she pulls the blanket closer around her, relaxed.

Cardan watches her again. He does that a lot, or maybe Jude has just started to watch him more too.

“I did, and there’s nothing better I can think of,” he grins.

Jude’s heart beats faster in her chest at that dazzling smile— she’s in deep.

[reignpink]

The Night After

I slowly lift Cardan’s arm off me and gently place it on the bed as I slide off of it. I quietly walk out of our bedroom and into the parlor. I take a seat on a sofa that’s facing the window and stare out at the sky, passively watching the sun rise. I should be sleeping but I can’t despite being exhausted due to the last couple of days. The soft rays of light that emerge, bounce off objects in the room around me. I turn around and see the twin crowns glowing under the light. I get up and take my crown in my hands, the weight still surprising me slightly. I run my fingers over it gently, it was beautiful but most importantly it was mine. Just like Elfhame. After all that has happened, I am here with a crown in my hands as The High Queen and wife to none other than Cardan Greenbriar. 

“Come back to bed Jude.” Cardan whispers from behind me as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head in the nudge of my neck.

Speak of the devil. “I will be back soon. Go on without me.” 

“Annoyingly I cannot sleep without you,” He mutters as he presses a small kiss on my neck. “So tell me what is keeping you up.” 

I gently place my crown back on the mantle next to Cardan’s. “My body is still running on the adrenaline from today’s events.” 

Cardan nods, “Let’s sit down.” He says taking my hand and guiding us back to the sofa I was previously sitting on. I lay my head on his shoulder and I feel him run his hands through my hair. “You have made to be an excellent Queen. I haven’t the chance to tell you but your punishments from the coronation were very clever and I am thoroughly impressed.”

“Thank you.” I reply softly. I don’t question the decisions I made earlier, I know they were made in the best interest of our rule for the kingdom. The people must know we can show mercy when possible but be harsh when necessary.

Before I can react Cardan flips us to where I am laying back on the couch and he’s hovering over me. I feel a small smile spread on my lips as he smirks down at me. I brush the hair from his eyes as I feel his tail grazing my legs. Sometimes when I look at Cardan, I’m still surprised at what I see. He was once as cruel and sharp as the spikes on his crown. 

“Did I tell how hideous you looked today.” He began his eyes twinkling as they searched mine. 

“No, tell me.”

“I cannot because you looked ravishing.” 

I laughed lightly before pulling him down to kiss me. Cardan returned the kiss full force then slowly started to kiss down the side of my face to my neck. I sucked in a breath. “Especially when you were crowned, I wanted to pull you away and fuck you with nothing but it on.” He says into my ear. His breath heavy and his hands were trailing further down my body. 

“Let’s get back to bed Jude and burn the remainder of this adrenaline out of you.” 

“Let’s.” I respond.

My eyes open the next morning to Cardan’s face close to mine. Our legs were intertwined under the sheets and his arm was draped over my naked body, holding me close. I lift my hand and softly push the raven black hair out of his face. I almost want to laugh. This once cruel creature who used to make my life a living hell now shares my bed and I am it’s wife no less. Wife. I despise to admit the flutter I get in my stomach when he addresses me as such. 

“Hello my darling Jude.” Cardan mutters with his eyes still closed. 

“Hello Cardan.” 

“Today will be your first official day as High Queen, are you ready.”

He is right. I have ruled as Queen for a while now but the coronation and faerie people’s blessing have solidified my standing. 

“I’m ready.” I assure him.

“I believe you are as well.” He says finally opening his eyes and sending me one of his small boyish smiles. “I have something to show you, a little first day gift.”

My brows furrow as I watch him jump out of bed squat down pulling a box that was wrapped and bowed from underneath the bed.

“Open it.” He commands laying the wrapped gift in front of me. I quickly sit up and lift the box judging its weight. Whatever’s inside isn’t light but does seem pretty firm. I slowly untie the bow and lift the lid. I run my hands over the white fluffy object then carefully pull it out. It’s a robe— wait two robes. I glance up at Cardan whose face is patiently waiting for my reaction. I flip over the robes and laugh lightly seeing the word ‘Queen’ embroidered on the front of one and ‘King’ on the other.

“I assume this one's yours.” I toss him the King robe.

“You assume correctly. Do you like the gift?” He asks while pulling his robe on.

“I didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this.”

“So you don’t like it?”

“Oh no, I love it. Truly. Thank you.”

“I am pleased. I got the idea while at your sister’s house in the mortal word. It works perfectly with the next part of my surprise.”

I raise a brow at him, “Next part?”

“Of course! Come follow me.” Cardan holds out his hand for me to take. I shake my head, smiling at him, as I pull on the robe before climbing off the bed and taking his hand.

He leads us through our bedroom and into the foyer, stopping at a door on the opposite side.

“You can hang your robe in here.” He says before tossing open the door. I don’t stop the gasp that escapes my lips as I look around the grand room. It was a bathroom, and a beautiful one at that. I slowly walk inside, my eyes moving across the room. The tub, which  resembled a jacuzzi, was giant and could easily fit the both of us plus sum was in the corner closest to the door. A slim wall divided it from a separate shower which had a nozzle attached to the ceiling making it a rain shower. A toilet sat in the other corner. The counter had a sink on one side and a vanity on the other where a ton of products already sat. The bathroom had a black and white theme with gold accents marking all through it. It was absolutely gorgeous, I love it. I turn back towards Cardan with a giant smile on my face.

“You really did this all for me?” I ask quietly.

Cardan pushes off the door frame and walks further into the bathroom till he was right in front of me. “Who else. You deserve more than a small washroom with a bucket in it.”

I look around at the bathroom again. Try as he might've, Madoc didn’t truly understand Taryn and I’s mortal needs so the closest we had to a bathroom was a chamberpot and a tub. Then moving into the palace where nobody cared what I needed meant I definitely didn’t have a toilet, no less a full bathroom. I hadn’t even realized that I missed having one till now.

“Thank you.” I say wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m just glad you like it.” Cardan replies hugging me back just as tight.

We stay like that for a moment before he pulls back and lays a light kiss on top of my head, “I’ll leave you to get ready. Tatterfell should be arriving soon to help.”

I watch him walk out, his tail swinging behind him. I take a seat at the vanity and stare at my reflection. I look different. The person staring back at me is no longer the little girl who laid awake at night scared of this new world, or the girl sneaking around the shadows of a palace, or the girl who was too scared to tell the man who loved her that she loved him back. But a woman who stood in the face of a serpent, two paths, and won.

“A bathroom fit for a Queen.” Tatterfell says as she enters.

“And I need your help making me look like one.” Tonight the revels celebrating Cardan and I’s coronation would begin.

“I would like nothing else.”

Tatterfell draws a bath for me in my new tub. I take one quickly then allow her to help me into a deep blue lace gown. I took a seat at the vanity and Tatterfell immediately began her work on brushing through my hair before curling the bottom and braiding the top into my signature horns. Then she continues onto my makeup, keeping it light and natural but giving me a glowy look.

I slip out of my room into the hallways soon after.

---------

This mini story takes place the morning/night right after the coronation, so after they get back from Vivi’s and both go to sleep. I hope you enjoyed it! I do plan on continuing and hopefully making it a cohesive story about their lives after the ending off the book because I have always had a fascination of book characters lives once the story ends so I am going to write my interpretation of Jude and Cardan’s! And it won’t immediately be Jude getting pregnant, I want to more focus on what it looks like for Jude’s ruling, her relationship with Madoc and her finding out more about her birth mother, Jude bringing up the fact that Cardan will outlive her, Jude still digesting poison and Cardan’s thoughts on it, and plenty more ideas I don’t want to spoil. So let me know if this is something that you would actually have fun reading!

UPDATE 12/14/2020 - so I wrote some more and decided just too add it along with the rest and I think I might keep doing that or maybe wait till I have a whole chapter then I’ll post it to Archive of Our Own. Anyways did you like Cardan giving Jude a bathroom? Does it make sense? I just always thought about how Jude never had a really nice bathroom is Elfhame and how Cardan just wants the best for his queen so he gave her one. 

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

make up | Jurdan One Shot Teaser

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, hosted by @jurdannet​ | Day 3- The Mortal World

Rating: GA 

Summary: Jude should’ve known better than to let Cardan watch mortal television. When he finds out about Sephora, the High King implores his wife to take him and Oak on a sashay into the mortal world makeup haven. 

Masterlist 

Jude perches on the rolled arm of the sofa next to where Cardan is sitting. The bluish light from the television plays off the sharp planes of his face. “What are you watching?” she murmurs.

Oak hushes her, riveted, but Cardan spares her a glance. “It’s a fascinating show,” he says, blinking up at her. His eyes are strikingly tender. “They talk at incredible speeds.”

“I can hear that.” Jude breathes a laugh, then sweeps a stray curl from his brow with her fingers. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

He captures her hand in his and holds it there against the crook of his neck before turning his attention back to the show. She can feel his pulse.

“What is a Sephora?” Cardan asks, suddenly. “They keep mentioning it.”

Jude presses her lips together. She briefly considers telling him it’s a bank. Or an antique shop. Anything to keep him from knowing the truth. But she hesitates for too long, and Cardan can always tell when she’s lying.

“It’s a store,” Jude hedges.

He eyes her skeptically. “That is a remarkably vague description, wife.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, cursing his perceptiveness. “It’s a store where you can buy things?” 

Cardan gives her a flat look, seeing right through her stalling tactics. “Yes, I guessed as much,” he says, impatient. “What kinds of things?”

Jude draws in a long breath. “Face things.”

“Face things?” His brows knit together.

“Yeah... Like face wash. Or toner.” She shrugs. “It’s all very boring.”

Cardan is squinting at her now. “Would this face store happen to include glitter and paints? Pigments, mayhap?”

“No,” Jude says, too quickly, then clamps her mouth shut.

Cardan grins. “My sweet little liar,” he says, reaching toward her face with his free hand. He brushes a cool thumb across her bottom lip. Jude’s eyes widen, half-spellbound by his heated gaze, half horror-struck for the monstrous box she’s just opened.

“We’re going,” her husband declares after a moment, pulling his hand away from her face.

“What?” Jude shoots him a pleading look as he stands. She doesn’t let go of his hand. “No, Cardan—”

“Why not?”

“Because,” she huffs. “I don’t think Oak wants to spend time at a makeup store on his birthday.” Jude nods pointedly at the boy. Oak has turned himself around and is now hanging upside-down over the front of the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

Cardan pauses, contemplating. He looks like he’s about to forfeit, and for a fleeting moment, Jude is relieved.

Then, Oak sits up. “No, I’m fine with it,” he chirps. An annoyingly delayed response. “They have those sheet mask things I like.”

Jude’s brows rise on her forehead. “You use sheet masks?”

“Yeah, they’re all slimy and gross feeling.” He grins. “Plus, Vivi and Heather ran out last week. They told me I had to buy them more because I kept stealing theirs.”

“See, my love?” Cardan croons. “Oak wants to go.”

Jude wants to groan. She cannot believe she’s being coerced into this. Today was supposed to be a relatively calm day. The chaos was supposed to come later, when dozens of pre-teen boys and girls poured into their apartment for Oak’s birthday party. Now, with the prospect of mall crowds and florescent lights and Cardan wreaking havoc upon a store full of body glitter... 

Jude shudders. Cardan and body glitter. She cannot help but feel like this is an undermining of her very sanity.

“Please, Jude?” Oak begs. 

“Yes, please, Jude.” There’s a smug smile pulling at her husband’s cruel lips.

She scowls at it. “Fine,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Oak springs to his feet. “Who am I to deny the birthday boy, after all?”

As Oak runs off to find his shoes, Cardan gives Jude a soft smile. He lifts her hand, still nestled in his, and plants a gentle kiss to her knuckles before letting it fall and making his way to the coat rack.

Jude folds her arms across her chest. She lured herself into this trap. She supposes she must now brace herself for her fate. 

☽☽☽☽☽

More like this: Wicked Game  |  Only You  |  Kiwi

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Since I am notoriously the most tortoise-like writer on the face of the web, I’ve decided to release snippets for the Jurdan Week one-shots/fics I plan to release sometime in the near future. I’ve tagged everyone who has either asked to be tagged in this one-shot specifically, or is on my Jurdan Forever Tag List. If you would like to be added to the tag list for this, or to my Jurdan Forever Tag List, please let me know in the comments/my inbox/messages and I’d be happy to add you!

-Em 🖤💫

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