#i was wearing thigh-high four inch heels and a coat that makes my waist look tiny

[tofu-bento-box]

handmade sexy gortash costume. run into someone i know at the halloween party. he walks me home the next day after class even though it’s in the opposite direction from where he’s going

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do.

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  explicit flut aka fluff and smut.    

tags / warnings.  it’s filthy.  like.  dummy filthy.  oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be silly!), creampie, an inappropriate use of a mirror, idk.  a stupid amount of petnames.  there should be a warning for kook as a person, too.  

beta reader(s).  @jjiminah the lob of my life!!

wc.  2.6k

drabble:  mirrors. four years ago.

It’s taking you far too long to find your keys, far too long to unlock the door, far too long to return his kiss.  He’s greedy and demanding, bowed against your back with his lips attached to your neck.  He sucks bruises into the skin the longer you take, biting incrementally harder with each second that passes.  It doesn’t occur to him that he’s the reason you’re so slow. 

“Kook, stop.”  It’s hardly a word.  Hardly a name.  It skips off your tongue like rain and drips molasses behind his molars.  

Don’t you know he’s a sugar addict? 

He noses against the column of your throat, humming delightedly over the strawberries and cream that blend in pretty swirls, left there by his hand.  He inhales the overwhelmingly jammy sweetness of your perfume - practically tastes it on his tongue - and guides the flat of his palms over silk.  It bunches beneath his rings, around his knuckles.  Jungkook loves when you wear it - loves the way it wears you, like a second skin. 

“C’mon, Pumpkin.  We gotta celebrate.”

You don’t notice it then - how his words come too slow, too slurred - even for an evening at the Ritz.  Coherence has left him, lost to the bottom of an empty glass or furled edge of a hundred dollar bill.  It leaves a shadow in its wake - one that rants and raves and believes in Neverland or something like it.  

The key slots into place - finally! - and he moves as one with you, stepping when you step, laughing when you laugh.  It’s not enough that he’s there in every motion.  He wants more - wants to fill all the spaces between you and then some. 

“Can you get the lights?”  You’re extracting yourself from him as best as you can, not realising it’s futile.  Every minute adjustment has him pressing closer.  It doesn’t even matter that you’re trying to unlace your heels - towering things with intricate ropes across the top of your foot.  He holds you like you’re a puzzle piece that completes him, refusing to allow you even an inch.  The frustration barely brushes the edge of your adoration.  Sharp as the words are, they’re coloured pretty pink - steeped in love and affection.  “Can you please let me take off my shoes?”

An impish smile appears then, draws across his face in a cartoon grin with eyes too big and teeth too white.  

The hands previously on your waist descend, snake themselves down the length of your hips - and then he drops to the ground, knees knocking against slick hardwood.  You gasp - a quiet little thing, more in worry than surprise - and he places a chaste peck to the bare skin right above your knee.

Thank fucking god for wrap dresses being a thing.  He’d fill your closet with them, if you’d let him.  Any excuse to open you up like his favourite gift, bounce you on his lap like a good girl at Christmas. 

“Kook.”  It’s his name again.  Same, same, but different.  There’s a swirl of emotion in your eyes - a supermassive black hole that threatens to swallow him whole like the colour of your irises.  He stares for too long, lost to the twinkling stars and silence.

So pretty, he thinks, pressing another kiss to the soft skin beneath his hands.  

“Yeah, Pumpkin?”  It’s sinful, seductive, laced in cigarette smoke and Scotch.  He’s a sucker for a good single malt but he wants something else now - something to ease the burn.  

“Shoes,”  you repeat, so faint he has to strain to hear it.  

Five fingers that had busied themselves beneath your dress fall, dropping to the neatly knotted tie at your ankle.  One flick of his wrist and it’s undone.  You step out, teetering dangerously for a moment;  you catch yourself on the broad expanse of his back, digging fingers into leather and sinew. 

Jungkook buries a laugh against your thigh, open-mouthed and full of teeth.  “Hold on, angel.”

The other shoe unravels just as quickly and you’re back on solid ground, beaming down at him.  “Thank you.”  A gentle ruffle to his hair follows, the glide of your manicured nails across his scalp easing his cheek to rest upon your leg.  

“Any time.”  He should get up - his knees are beginning to ache - but he’s far too preoccupied with the lace beneath his still wandering hand, intricate patterns woven into a welcome sign.  They trace high across your hips, framing your ass in a way that makes his cock twitch in his suddenly too-tight jeans.  

“Baby?”  It’s indistinct, somewhere above the clouds his head is suddenly lost in.

You’re radiating heat through every limb.  He seeks it out, nosing against the material of your dress in search of more;  he wants to bury himself where you’re warmest, fall headlong into sunshine.  “Hm?”  It comes in an exhale, followed by teeth and tongue.

The clouds part, just a little.  His path is lit - a neon outline beneath your skin.  He follows it without thought, sweeping his hands higher and higher.  

You jolt when he licks a strip up your slit, lace disappearing between your folds.  The material sticks to your cunt, sodden and ruined and nearly transparent, both from your slick and his saliva.  He grins up at you as he repeats the motion over and over, dragging his tongue in measured trails.  

He hears more than sees the way your back hits the door - his grip on your leg tightening to keep you balanced - but he hears and then feels your hands in his hair, tugging gently at the roots.  “Kook.”  It’s frenzied and breathless and he’s hardly even touched you.  It drives him crazy, nails digging crescents into the meat of your ass.  

“Yeah, Pumpkin?”  Repeated verbatim with that same breakneck smile.    

“Need you.”

“Need me?”  He echoes, as if he hasn’t heard you, as if it isn’t glaringly obvious by the way you coat your own thighs, beading prettily over his fingers.  “What do you need me for, baby?”

A part of you hates when he does this.  He knows that.  You like when he’s gentle, full of love.  You like getting your way with him, knowing he needs you just as badly as you need him.  It makes you feel like a queen.  

The queen of his castle - the only woman Jungkook will ever love this way.  How could he deny you?

So he relents, just a little, sliding his thumb beneath the material of your thong.  It catches on your swollen clit and dips between your lips before he’s tugging terribly slowly, at a snail’s pace that has you tightening your grip.  He muffles a laugh when it’s halfway down your legs, caught between your knees.  You’re like Bambi on ice, impatient and shifting from foot to foot in your haste.

“Careful,”  he coos, slipping your underwear into his back pocket for safekeeping before he peers up at you, his face framed by hazy streetlights and his crown of dark hair.  

He feels the brush of your fingers against his temple, the subtle squeeze of your thighs beneath his touch.  “I love you.”

It isn’t reciprocal in words, answered instead with a kiss that leaves you panting above him.  His tongue works you open, dipping into your heat before rising to toy at your clit.  He repeats the motion until you’re shaking, tremors passing through your legs to the hands that hold you in place trapped between him and the door.  

There’s an angel’s chorus filtering into his ears - quiet little gasps that turn lewd, breathless recitals that leave him aching to bend you over and fuck you senseless. 

A single digit brushes your entrance, sliding home in a smooth press of his wrist.  You take him to the knuckle without an ounce of resistance and he grins, triumphant, against your core.  There’s nothing more intoxicating than how much you want him - need him - and he gives greedily, slotting another in alongside the first.  You mewl above him, the sound music to his ears, and he scissors them expertly, watching in rapt fascination as your pussy stretches to accommodate the width of two long fingers.  “Fuck - I love you,”  he hums, awestruck and adoring. 

Something like a laugh bounces off your tongue and descends into a wanton moan before it can right itself.  A tell-tale sign you’re almost there.  Perfect.

He zeroes in on your clit, tongue dancing over it with each drag of his fingers.  He’s curling them now, intimately familiar with the rough bundle of nerves that turns you stupid.  You’re practically dripping down his hand and he’s careful not to let a single drop go to waste, licking his way over his knuckles and back to the source in languid strokes before he returns to toying with the pearl between your legs.  “So sweet, baby.  Like pumpkin pie.”  

You’re trembling, hands like iron in his hair, pulling him closer closer closer.  

“Please,”  you beg.  You’re rutting against him, chest heaving - a world away from the mild-mannered girl-next-door.  It’s so hot he can’t help but take pause, wait just a moment so he can take in the sight.

Poor choice.  He really can’t wait any longer.

He rises in a single fluid motion - even intoxicated, he’s a work of art.  He laughs off the way you watch him, expression an intoxicating mixture of admiration and salaciousness.  “Come here, angel.”  Here, to his arms.  Here, where you belong, cradled against all five feet ten inches of him.  

You’re putty in Jungkook’s hands, far too close to the brink of release to even think of arguing when he rotates you, pressing the full, unyielding expanse of his chest to the small of your back.  

“Look how beautiful you are, baby.”  Debauched words that sound more like love, whispered adoringly into your ear.  Sweet nothings that incinerate every ounce of rationale, leaving nothing but yearning in its wake.  He presses a kiss to your cheek, broad palms heavy at your hips.  

He’s right - you are beautiful, framed within the mirror’s reflection and barely lit by the moon. 

“Pretty,”  you agree, right as one hand shifts, drops and finds a home against your core.  Two digits press, unrelenting, into your cunt and you keen, head dropping against his shoulder like he’s just cut your marionette strings with the scissor of his fingers.  The flat of his palm grinds against your clit and he snickers, the sound deposited into your hair like a gift. 

“That’s right, Pumpkin.  So pretty.”  The P’s pop off his tongue, enunciated with each curl of his knuckles, each blossom he blooms over your neck. 

He fucks you slowly, languidly, unhurriedly - even as you writhe against him, pouting and demanding.  He does it so you’re delirious with need but not so lucid he loses you;  every time you’re about to slip, he recentres your focus and drags you back from the edge - either with a gentle tweak to your clit or a particularly hard thrust of his fingers.  Anything to keep you there, eyes locked with his in the hallway mirror.

“Look at you.  You’re so perfect.”  Praise rains down and you’re smiling, a faraway, feral glint in your eye.  “So fucking sexy for me.  Do you want more?”  His fingers still within your fluttering walls, massaging tight against your g-spot as his thumb adjusts to impose the same pressure upon your throbbing clit.  “Want me to fill you up?  Fuck you silly?”  

You don’t have to speak for him to know your answer - he feels the way you clench around him, eager for something far better.  

“Relax, baby,”  he murmurs, that same messy hand making quick work of his leather belt and the button and zipper of his jeans.  It’s honestly a feat given how insistent you are, grinding your ass over his aching cock like you might die without it.  Your impatience is endearing and intoxicating;  he almost topples you both over in his haste to step out of his clothes, pile kicked aside as you begin to whine, nails digging into the arm that still rests heavy around your waist.  “Don’t worry, angel.  I’ve got you.”   

He does - and not a second too soon.

The head of his cock is glossy, leaking pre-cum over the purpled tip.  It makes it almost easy for him to slip inside you except for the fact that it’s never that easy and the stretch is undeniable, bordering on painful despite how needy you are for him and how well he’s prepared you.   

Every nerve ending is shot as he sinks into you.  He fills you entirely as a groan tumbles off his lips, your ass flush to his hips.  You’re so wet he can feel your slick over his own thighs, coating the base of his cock as you squeeze around him.  A whine of his own pitches, forms in a bite to your shoulder that has you crying out.  “Fuck.  Fuck.”

He’s mouthing over silk, over skin, fingers firm around the column of your neck;  tips press into softness, stealing your breath.  The other hand anchors you against him, slung low over your side with his palm splayed across your ribs.  It’s the only way he keeps you from jolting forward as he ruts against you, fucking into your heat at a relentless pace.  He can read the strain in your limbs, how it grows and grows and nearly snaps in two when he tightens his grip at your throat.  

“You wanna come, pretty?”  It’s heavy, hungry, hoarse - gravel beneath velvet.  You nod senselessly, swallowing thickly beneath the palm that sears heat and try to focus on the same feverish burn that claims your insides and melts your bones.  Jungkook knows exactly which buttons to push, how to light you up like a night sky.  

“Please.”  

It’s an explosion of light and colour behind your eyelids and under your skin.  You’re crying, sobbing, wailing - a wrecked mess caged against his chest as your orgasm crashes over you.  Pleasure washes over you in waves, dripping down your cheeks;  you’re spasming around his cock, gripping him so tightly he nearly chokes as he chases the same high. 

The sounds you make are so pretty, helpless and somehow still desperate for more.  They run on a loop inside his head, stuttering his rhythm as he fucks you through your sensitivity and into another high that has you clawing at his hands.  

You’re out of body, eyes rolled so far back into your head that he can see only the whites.  He squeezes harder at your neck - knuckles blown out, tense, a stark contrast to the mosaic of red that he’d painted earlier  - and you’re a rag doll doing your best, trying to meet his stare as he grins wolfishly at you.  “That’s right.  One more.  One more with me.”

It’s impossible to deny Jungkook or his near brutal pace.  Where skin meets skin, there’ll be bruises, imprints left by the hard ridges of his hips, the shape of his fingers - a reminder of tonight for days to come.  He’ll trace them with his tongue and never let you forget.

“Right there,”  he barks with a sloppy, stuttering roll of his hips.  

Your second orgasm is messy, wet, soaking the silk of your dress and his hand as he works your clit.  A million volts of electricity buzz through your body, from the tip of your ears to the balls of your feet;  he can feel it, passed between the two of you like a livewire.  It launches him over his own peak - a lit match to gasoline.

He fills you with a low groan and a last, purposeful thrust.  He holds you impossibly tight, dragging his hips in small circles as you milk him for all he’s worth, cum slipping past your swollen lips with each movement, despite how eager he is to keep it right where it is, staining your walls and reminding you you’re his.  

Always have been, always will be.

author note.  please note this is a flashback drabble (you might’ve caught the reference in chapter 3)!  this is not present day, sadly.  but did you catch any of the foreshadowing in this?  hopefully!  if not, i'm sorry.  thank you for reading anyway.  i appreciate you!

tag list.  @jalexad @aa-ronpa @kookiesbreaky @celestialflamefairy @xjoonchildx @pars-ley @seokjinssi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @patpus @dazedjjk @koozui @jinhitwhore @always-wishing-for-rain​

[nalgenewhore]

read to me (part four)

nsfw laddies*

“You look amazing, Ellie. He’s not gonna know what hit him.”

“If he hurts you, the only thing hitting him will be my fist,” muttered Aelin as Nehemia walked around her, scrutinizing the outfit she had put her in. Elide rolled her eyes at Aelin’s dramatics, looking in the mirror at herself.

She smoothed her hands over her high waisted jeans, picking at the hem of her silk tank top.

“Nervous?” Asked Nehemia, smoothing out the wrinkle between Elide’s furrowed brows. “El, he’s so into you, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You’re gonna be amazing.”

She exhaled shakily, reaching for the silver hoop earrings Borte passed to her. “Thanks, B.”

Borte flipped her braid over her shoulder, shrugging, “You really do look fantastic, the no bra thing is doing wonders for your tits. And hey, if it doesn’t go well, y’all can still fuck. You guys got mad chemistry, of the sexual variety.”

Elide laughed, shaking her head softly, “What would I do without you?”

Borte smirked as she flopped onto Elide’s bed, “Hm, die? A sad and boring death?”

She smiled as she glanced over at the clock, “Shit, he’ll be here soon. You guys need to get going, I promise I’ll update you guys and text you and all of that.”

Nehemia grabbed her overnight bag, kissing Elide’s brow, “Call if you need anything, ok? I’m just at Fen’s tonight.”

“I know, I will, Mi.”

The girls hugged her and wished her good luck as she herded them out of her apartment, smiling at Borte’s knowing smirk, “Use protection, princess.”

“Always.”

“And wear the green coat, not the black one! I put it on your desk, Ellie,” cried out Nehemia, more concerned about the outfit than anything else.

“I got it,” she called back, closing the door and going back to her room, grabbing her purse and dark green topcoat, kneeling to take her shoes out of her wardrobe, silver heels with a strap over her toes and clasping around her ankle, a block heel in the same colour. The silver matched her top and she pursed her lips in the mirror, scrunching her nose before she sighed and rooted through her desk for her lipstick, a dark pink colour that she dabbed on, popping her lips a couple times until she deemed it good enough. Just then, the buzzer rang and she gasped, hurrying out to the hallway.

She breathed deeply before she answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. You ready?”

She bit her lip, “Mhmm, come on up, L.”

“Be right there.”

Her heart fluttered as she put on her shoes and shrugged on her coat, ruffling her hair and grabbing her purse as she paced, her shoes click-clacking on the teakwood floors.

There was a knock on the door and she waited three seconds before she opened it, taking in the sight of Lorcan standing there, his hair hanging loose. The tips of his ears and nose were pink and it took everything in her to not drag him back into her bedroom and not leave. For a while.

“You look,” he let out a large breath, eyes raking up and down her, “amazing.”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, there, Salvaterre.” She took in his dark grey, plaid trousers and white t-shirt, and wool topcoat. He wore a thin silver chain that complimented his copper skin tone. Lorcan smiled and held out his elbow for her to slip her hand through.

Before she could turn to lock the door, he kissed her softly, smirking at the way she took a second to come back after it, blushing gently as she turned the key in the lock. “Ready?”

++++++ ++++++ ++++++

“That was really nice, thank you, love.”

“You’re very welcome, E.”

She leaned back against her door, looking up at him as he tangled her fingers in his and leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers. She melted against the door, pulling him to her by tugging on his belt loops, Lorcan laughing raspily against her lips.

They were both breathing heavily when she pushed him back slightly, pupils wide with pleasure. He smirked as she turned and fumbled with her keys, dropping his head to the side of her neck to nip at her skin, doing his best to distract her as she pushed the door open and they stumbled in.

She dropped her keys and purse on the floor, letting her coat fall to the ground as he tugged her around, gripping the backs of her thighs as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist when he held her against her door.

His head dipped down, his lips trailing over her chest as he pinned her wrists above her head, keeping her to the door with just his hips. Elide moaned when she felt him grow hard between her legs, liquid arousal pooling in her core. “Fuck,” she breathed when Lorcan let go of her wrists to slide his hands under her shirt.

She pushed his coat off, biting his bottom lip as he took it off, throwing it in the vague direction of her coat rack. Elide caught a glimpse of his tattoo sleeves as he gripped her waist beneath her slinky shirt, his thumbs stroking over the underside of her breasts. Her hands slid into his hair, tugging as he dragged his lips down her neck, grazing the base of her neck with his teeth before he began placing biting kisses to her throat. He growled when she wound her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself into him, their bodies molding together. “Bedroom?”

She nodded, “That way, the one on the left,” while pointing across the open concept living room He began to walk when she said, “Wait, wait, wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just,” she kissed the pinched skin between his brows, soothing it away and she pressed her lips to his, “shoes.”

He chuckled and leaned her back on the door, leaning down to undo the clasps on her heels and let them drop, toeing off his high top Chucks, not caring where they landed as he stalked over to her room, his hands under her ass and on her lower back keeping her pressed to him as she held his face in her hands, her lips on his, their tongues tangling, drawing low moans from each other’s throats.

Lorcan didn’t bother turning the light on as he entered her room, turning and sitting down on the edge of her bed, Elide shifting so that her knees were on either side of him. She slipped her hands from the sides of his face to grip the hem of her shirt and pull it off, heat flaring in her core as she read the hunger and want on his face, his eyes darkening as they took in the tattoo on her sternum, the moon cycle curving under her breasts.

Elide reached between them, pulling his shirt off and then slid off his lap, smirking at his whine as she undid her jeans, tugging them down her legs, each inch revealing more of her pale skin, marked with dark ink. She flung her jeans to the side, slipping off her lace panties, and kneeled between his legs, running her tongue over her teeth as she looked directly into his eyes, popping the button of his pants and then slowly, so slowly pulling the zipper down, his breathing strained as he kept his eyes on her.

Lorcan was close to panting as she pulled his trousers down, her eyes widening slightly at the bulge beneath his black briefs. “El, please,” he whispered, so hard it was almost uncomfortable.

She stood, gripping his jaw and holding it as she kissed him, using her free hand to tug his briefs down. He swore into Elide’s mouth as she stroked him and she chuckled darkly, nipping at his bottom lip before kneeling again, licking her lips as her hand continued to work his length and Lorcan could’ve sworn he died when she took him in her mouth.

She kept a hand around the base of him, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked and swirled her tongue around him, pulling him out until just the tip resting between her lips. He groaned and she winked once before bobbing her head until he hit the back of her throat and she choked, swallowing once to calm the muscles of her throat, humming around him when Lorcan cursed and wound his hands in her hair, pulling on it as he felt her moan vibrate around him. Her free hand travelled up his torso, nails drawing blood when he moved in and out of her mouth, her teeth delicately grazing his length.

Elide took him deeper with every stroke, until he was hitting the bottom of her throat. He felt the muscles of his stomach clench, showing him how close he was but before he could finish, he pulled her off, catching her whimper of complaint as she straddled his lap and glared, “I wasn’t finished with that.”

Grinning, he drew his fingers down through her folds, her breath hitching at the sensation of his fingers before he pulled them away and dragged them across his bottom lip, eyes shutting slowly as he licked her taste from his lips.

When he opened his eyes again, she felt herself become wetter at the expression on his face as he lifted her up and she sunk down on his shaft, her head falling back at the fullness she felt, gasping as she bounced slowly up and down on him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

The ends of her hair brushed his thighs as she rode him, her eyes fluttering involuntarily everytime the tip of his length hit that spot inside her, the one that had stars exploding behind her eyelids. “Anneith, save me,” she moaned when his hands travelled down her sides to hold onto her thighs, his thumb circling over the wyvern inked onto her leg. Lorcan ran his other hand to her hip, making tight circles around her clit as she lifted herself and dropped back down, screaming at the sensation, feeling like he could really split her in half.

He wound his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forward to drag his teeth down her throat, licking over the sting as prayers spilled from his lips in an ancient, nearly forgotten language.

Elide felt her walls flicker around him and cried out, dropping her forehead on his shoulder, “I’m so close, please, please just fuck me.”

Lorcan groaned at her request and raspy voice, stood and wrapped her legs around his waist as he somehow managed to walk over to the wall with her chest pressed against his, her moans soft in his ear as he pinned her to the wall, sucking marks into her neck as her head hit the wall, her grip in his hair almost painful.

He rolled his hips into her, tilting her hips down so that he reached deeper and deeper, pulling low moans from her lips as she neared that cliff, feeling her climax build in her limbs until the pressure was nearly too much and she burst, release flooding through her, his name a blessing tumbling from her lips. “Lorcan,” she breathed, tugging his chin up to kiss him as she tightened around him and he came with her tongue in his mouth, his length buried deep inside her as he spilled himself into her.

Their movements slowed until they were still against the wall, skin sticky with sweat, a warm sort of gentle pleasure settling in their bones as their hearts raged. He buried his face in her neck, pressing soothing kisses to her collarbone as he whispered in his native language, melodious words rolling off his tongue. Lorcan pushed off the wall, padding over to her bed, soft inside her as they slid between the sheets.

Elide grumbled faintly as he shifted out of her, feeling empty as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, his fingers making delicate designs up and down her spine. “You’re on birth control, right?”

She cackled, lifting her head to rest her chin on his chest, over the tribal tattoo marking his skin. “Yes, I have an IUD. Don’t you worry, this uterus will not be housing any children anytime soon but it wounds me that you don’t want me to have your babies.”

He chuckled and leaned down to press his lips to hers. “I would be blessed if you had my kids but not now.” She smiled against his lips, giddy at the thought of his plans for their future.

“Been planning your future, hmm?” She nipped at his bottom lip, shifting so that she was hovering over him. “Am I in it?”

“Elide Lochan,” he murmured, kissing her slowly and languidly, his chest rumbling with his low voice. “You are it.”

@myfeyrelady​ @kandasboi​ @highqueenofelfhame​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @velarian-trash​ @over300books​

[reveriesforyou]

The Dress

Hey guys! This is an imagine about the reader doing her best to tease her friend, Tom, because she's unsure of his feelings for her, in a really hot dress. I'm not even going to lie to you, this story is pure smut? The middle is soft and sweet, but everything else is ?porn? I hope you like it!

The Dress

She and Tom had been ambling through the various art exhibits at her city’s center since before ten A.M., and after they were invited to a lavish restaurant with a group of their friends, she insisted that she change her clothes. From a simple, floral sundress, she slipped into something a little more uncomfortable while Tom waited in her living room, doing his best to keep his integrity and not to sneak a peek. Truth be told, he thought that she looked beyond fine in her sundress. The back dipped low and he could tell that she didn’t have a bra on, plus the flowing fabric of the dress shifted around as she walked and Tom enjoyed flashes of her smooth legs. She looked sweet and innocent, and there was something absolutely perverse in Tom that just wanted to mess it up. Alas, they had chosen to take it slow, so take it slow he tried.

    As soon as they had met, Tom knew that she was the only girl for him, but as of then, she wanted to focus solely on her education. He understood, of course, seeing as her schooling was on the same level of importance as his acting, and he didn’t want to disturb her. He couldn’t bare to be without her once he had began to know her, so he settled for being her friend, but he was positive that it was slowly killing him.

    She was the most kind-hearted person that he had ever come across, always doing what was needed to help others. Beyond that, he’s made the mistake of accompanying her on her trip across town to babysit her cousin’s children where he discovered that she was also the most nurturing soul out there. During their stay at her cousin’s home, he had watched as she simplified Philip Roth’s, ‘A Defender of the Faith,’ into terms so easily understood that four year olds could pick apart the intended theme. Beyond that, she answered all of their questions, even the ones that had him snorting under his breath, with complete respect and sincerity. It was right then that he could feel himself drifting into the haze love with her.

    He felt his heart warm towards her again when they went out for dessert and she took a bite of her sundae, eyes blissfully shut as her lips closed over the chilled spoon. As soon as her lashes fluttered open, she offered Tom the next bite. Ever since then, sharing had been their thing and it was hurling him into love with her.

    She wore his clothes, always giving them back smelling of her perfume. He borrowed her favorite books, films, and favorite places in the city to hide out and be alone. Time and time again, when he was in immediate need of a vehicle and couldn’t find one to rent fast enough, she had handed over her car keys without a second thought. Tom smiled as he waited for her to get dressed, fiddling with the ginormous copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, a personal favorite of theirs to read.

In her room, she stood between two options. One dress was wholesome and cute, a typical outfit of hers, and the other was daring, sultry and, for lack of a better word, tiny. She hopelessly coveted Tom’s affection, but she was unsure of how to obtain it. Sure they had flirted from time to time, but she wanted to make him want her indefinitely, and if the dress would help her accomplish that, than so be it. He was all that was in her heart and all she wanted to do was to immerse him in love. Her best friend had encouraged her to purchase the dress for this very reason, and she refused to let something so pretty rot in the back of her closet. Slipping on some high heels and adding another coat of mascara, she exited her room.

“Are you ready, my love?” Tom called as he listened for the sound of heels clicking against her wood floors. He turned around and saw her before she could respond.

    She looked so lusciously risque that Tom couldn’t even form an eloquent thought in his brain. In the crest if the hallway, she stood in front of him wearing a dress so small and delicate that Tom was certainly convinced he could tear off her body using only his teeth, and sweet heavens, oh how he wanted to.

    “Holy mother of fucking hell,” Tom hissed through gritted teeth, “you’re going to fucking kill me, babydoll.”

    Truth be told, her dress had been located in the lingerie section of the store, but after sending photos of the dress to practically every contact in her phone, despite Tom, she decided it was approved nightwear. People wore less and got away with it all the time, she thought.

She was dressed in a soft, blush-toned, silk nightie that barely reached the top of her thighs. The straps were made of lace and the front dipped low so low that if she were to bend down to touch the floor, the dress would move to reveal her bellybutton. Her back was exposed, seeing as the nightie was backless and she’d made sure to get the next size up so it would be just baggy enough to show a little side-boob. The heels she wore were tall and nude, and they elongated her legs so well that they looked endless.

“Ready?” She chirped, making a show of swinging her hips as she walked past Tom, eager to unveil her dress’s scandalous lack of backing. She heard him mumble unintelligible curses once more.

“You, are you, wearing, you’re going to wear that out?” Tom asked as he locked the door, realizing that there was absolutely no way that he was going to make it through dinner with her when she was practically naked in front of him. He knew it was not his place, or anyone’s place, to dictate what she wore, but he was seriously concerned for his sanity at this point. He was either going to need to leave early or masturbate in the bathroom.

She cocked her head to the side to gaze up at him through her lower lashes, “yes, Tom,” she said, placing her hands on his chest, “why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it?” She knew full well that she was laying it on thick, but she was determined to break him down.

He swallowed thickly. She was looking at him how he always imagined she’d look at him in bed. Her eyes were glossed over, she rolled her lower lip beneath her teeth, her chest moved rapidly up and down, she smelled like freshly picked daisies and Tom knew he was so beyond fucked. Was she doing this to him on purpose?

“I just don’t want you to be cold is all,” he stuttered out, which was true, but not his only unease about her napkin of a dress.

She’d thought this out as well. It had come to her understanding that Tom liked to see her in his clothes, so she smiled up at him, leaning even closer if humanly possibly and with her lips pressed an inch away from the base of his throat, uttered, “could I borrow your jacket? I don’t have one that’ll go with my outfit, but I really like yours.”

Tom coughed, “yeah, of course you can, sweet girl,” before removing his jean jacket and draping it across her shoulders, praying that she would at least button it up.

Curling her arms around Tom in a hug, she whispered words of thanks and left his coat perched gently atop her shoulder blades. She turned and began to make her way down the apartment complex’s hallway, not waiting for Tom to catch up.

“I’m going to die,” he mumbled before readjusting his jeans and hurrying after her.

On the walk there, she had teased him like no other, and Tom was becoming not only extremely hot, but very bothered.

First, she’d paused and asked him if he could check to see if her buckle on her heels was broken. She had rationed that she would do it herself, but her dress was too short. Once he’d knelt down, she’d shifted so that her leg was lifted almost over his shoulder and ruffled her hands through his hair, claiming that she needed to steady herself so she didn’t fall. She let out at airy groan as soon as his hand curled over her ankle to hold her still, brushing off his raised eyebrows as her just being sleepy. Tom had gotten a clear look at the white, lace panties she was wearing by accident, but he suspected she had done moved just so he would see.

Then, she had asked him if he could hold her phone for her, seeing as she had forgotten her bag. When Tom said that he could, she ignored his outstretched palm and slipped her phone directly into his jean pocket herself. Frankly, Tom was getting a little pissed off.

To make matters worse, when they rode up in the elevator together to reach the restaurant, they’d unluckily gotten stuck on the busiest ride. When he crowded into the corner, she had made sure to rub her bum against the bulge in his jeans the entire way up, apologizing when they got to their floor, telling him that she was just too close to the man in front of her. At this point, Tom knew better. He didn’t know what she was playing at, but he was going to demand to be informed as soon as they were alone.

He’d just have to make it through dinner.

    However, Tom couldn’t even make it through the appetizers before he demanded to speak with her alone. Their friends had taken notice to her attire immediately after she took off his coat because it was so different than what she normally wore and had teased the pair throughout the entirety of their time together.

    Everyone was well aware of their feelings for one another, and did their best to mush them together as often as possible. Due to their party being so large, she was practically sat on Tom’s lap and she offered him food straight from her fork, which wasn’t unusual for them, it just felt different tonight. There was nowhere Tom could put his hands without touching her bare skin and he’d just about lost his mind.

    Securing a firm hand around her waist, Tom yanked her back roughly against his chest, “we’re going out outside right now.” They were sat so close together that Tom could hear her heart beat faster.

    “Why?” She asked, her brow furrowing.

    Tom stood, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her away from their meal, “are you honestly asking me why?” He scoffed, grumbling out a half-assed lie about where and the reason that they needed to leave. Tom was all too prepared to endure the taunts from their friends, he didn’t care anymore.

    He led her through the sea of people, pushing past without a single ‘excuse me.’ Tom knew that he was being a dick but he didn’t have it in him to care. If she wanted to make it her mission to provoke him, as she clearly had, Tom was sure as hell going to let her know that she succeeded.

    As soon as they were far enough away from the crowd to not be overheard, he whipped around and exclaimed, “what the fuck is this about? Have I done something to you? Have you lost your mind?” Tom began to pace up and in front of her, “like I know you must realize what you’re doing to me?”

    All of her bashfulness returned. Teasing Tom all day had honestly worked her up too. He made her feel so wanted, and thoughts of him touching her and her touching him had wormed their way into her mind throughout their evening. She’d never thought that he would confront her about her actions, and now that he was, and he looked so good doing it, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

    “What do you mean?” She asked, focusing on the uneven sidewalk rather than to meet Tom’s gaze.

    Sighting a cramped corridor near behind a closed shop, Tom took ahold of her hand and dragged her into the corridor’s cover. Now, they wouldn’t be seen by anyone as long as they were quiet.

    He breathing hard and he knew he was pressed into her and she could feel his hardness poking against her leg. “Darling, don’t you dare play like that. I swear I’ll lose my mind,” he raked a hand through his hair, “well, more than I already have.”

    She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, knowing that as of right now, she could either be brave and possibly turn their friendship into something much larger, or she could apologize and have things stay the same. Harrison had mentioned that Tom had feelings for her right after they’d met, so she prayed that he still did.

    She fluttered her long eyelashes and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. “Do you want me?” She asked, doing her best to make her voice as sultry as she could.

    Tom was hesitant to move from her touch. She smelled like freshly picked flowers, he could feel her breasts rise and fall with her intake of breath, and she was looking up at him through her lashes with parted lips and it was too much for him to handle. “What do you mean?”

    Her next sentence was almost impossible for her to choke out. She was losing her confidence, did he really not know what she meant or was he playing dumb to avoid hurting her feelings? “Do you wanna kiss me?” She averted her eyes before quickly adding, “it’s okay if you don’t.”

    “Sweetheart,” Tom started and she stumbled away from him, not even waiting to hear what he had to say.

    “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” She stuttered, ignoring his pleas for her to come back to him. She couldn’t believe that she had just spent the entire night humiliating herself.

    Tom jogged down the street after her, thanking the universe that the heels she wore were so high that she couldn’t really move too quickly without falling over. He curled a soft hand around her arm, pulling her back into his chest.

    “You didn’t stop and listen to me,” Tom chided, before wrapping another arm around her to keep her in place. “What I was going to ask you is where this is all coming from? You said you didn’t want anything other than friendship, and I don’t want this to be just a one night thing. You mean too much to me for that. I’m just confused is all.”

    “I wanna be with you, Tom, isn’t that obvious? I really like you, and I just thought that if you didn’t like me, maybe this would help?” Her eyes were tearing, her brain was melting and her hands shook. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but him.

    Tom let out a belly laugh, “what are you talking about? Of course I like you, I’ve been telling my mum for months that I love you! This is ridiculous, you didn’t need to do all this!” Tom exclaimed, his words not registering in his mind until a soft ‘oh’ fell from her lips.

    “Can, could, you, do you want to say that again?” She stammered, covering his lips tenderly with her own before Tom even had a chance to respond. Breaking away almost as soon as she started, she took his cheeks in her palms and whispered, “I love you.”

    Everything was happening so rapidly, and Tom firmly grasped her waist and pulled her in to kiss him. They made-out so furiously on the sidewalk that they got numerous honks and catcalls from passing cars and bikers alike.

    Tom groaned into her mouth when her body brushed up against the hardness constricted by his black jeans. “I love you and I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, but I swear to god darling, if we keep at this, I’m going to ruin these pants.”

    She kissed the corner of his mouth before taking his hand and pulling him behind the corridor Tom had found a few minutes before. As soon as the corridor’s pillars provided them coverage, she sank to her knees in front of Tom. “I’ve never done this before, so you’re going to have to teach me.”

    “No, no, I didn’t mean that you had to do this, not if you don’t want to,” Tom said, urging her to get up as the image of her on her knees for him made his jeans even tighter, if that was even possible anymore. He couldn’t imagine her doing it to him here, well he could, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated to suck him off before she was ready, especially seeing as this was her first time.

    “Tom,” she said, without budging, “I want to. I think about it all the time.”

    He cursed again, the thought of her getting off to thoughts of him was almost too much. Tom palmed himself through his jeans.

    “Just tell me how you want me,” She said, her voice sounding as Tom imagined silk would feel against his skin.

    “Fuck,” he mumbled, “you’re sure? If you wanna stop, just say so and I’ll be okay with it.” Tom bent down to kiss her, already planning to reciprocate back at her apartment. “I’m not going to last long because you’ve been prancing around nearly naked all night long.”

    A blush spread across her cheeks as she began to undo his jeans.

    Tom moaned as soon as she touched him, and he moaned even louder when the warmth of her mouth slid down his length. “Fucking hell, baby,” he rasped out, begining to instruct her on how to take him.

    After about ten minutes, he was done. He was struggling to still his hips and his hands had tangled themselves into her shiny locks, and Tom knew that he was going to finish. He swore that if she gagged again, he’d blow right there.

    “You’ve done so well, sweetheart,” Tom groaned, removing a hand from her hair to place it on the hollows of her cheek. “Let me finish it.”

    She didn’t halt her movements but Tom could tell that she was confused. At this point, she was taking him so deep that he could feel her fluttering lashes against his skin.

    “No, darling, I’m going to cum. If you don’t wanna swallow, you need to stop.” Tom advised, not having the willpower to move away from her heavenly mouth.

    On that note, she started bobbing her head even faster, and taking Tom so far back that he was almost positive he was going to hit the back of her throat. He cursed, unable to form a coherent sentence, all he could think of her how good she felt. A moment later, he came down her throat, and she sucked him off even through that.

    When she released him from the slickness of her mouth, the first thing Tom did was bend down to kiss her swollen lips. “I fucking love you,” he groaned breathlessly.

    Her eyes closed and she drifted into the warmth of his touch, “tell me again.” And Tom did, helping her to her feet and removing the jean jacket she’d given back to him at the restaurant. Tom helped her slide it on and buttoned it up almost all the way.

    He kissed her nose, “what do you want to do, my love?”

    She beamed shyly up at him, “can we go home and do it again?”

    Tom pressed an openmouthed kiss to her neck, “oh yeah, baby, you haven’t had your turn yet.”

[ericjuneau]

Reprise (Chapter 29) [Frozen/Tangled/The Little Mermaid]

CHAPTER 29: A Nice Place to Visit

"It says he died about two hundred years ago," Rapunzel whispered.

"The one guy. The ONE guy who could have helped us." Elsa began pacing. "We've been searching all over for him and he's been dead for two centuries already. He was our last chance and we finally found where he is."

With a grunt, she kicked the gravestone. "I am tired of this stupid goose chase. I'm so far away from my family, my home." She kicked again and again. "My country's at war. And I can't do anything about it!"

The last kick cracked the stone. It toppled like a playing card. Elsa shirked back. "Oops."

"What's this?" Rapunzel asked. "This writing down below."

The bottom of the stone contained faded glyphs, obscured by the thick wildgrass until now. "These... these look like the same glyphs on Arcius's island. Remember? At the altar-thing?" She rubbed sand away from the letters. "Maybe it's a clue. If I-"

Something hummed, like insect's wings. Their teeth rattled.

A blue light appeared on the pathway alongside the graveyard. It grew high and thin, reaching through the trees. The area around it rescinded, like a sinkhole in the middle of the air.

"Looks like a... a..." Rapunzel said.

"A portal!" Ariel finished.

The barrier opened only a dozen feet wide, but what they saw defied explanation. Beyond the veil lay a magnificent castle, with copper minarets and marble walls so white they glowed. A small staircase led to the grand double doors.

The skies of both their world and this one matched. The trees around the castle mirrored those in the forest nearby. Whatever magic kept this place off the map also rendered this palace invisible. It did not exist in some other world, but here and now.

"Should we go in?" Rapunzel asked.

"I think so," Elsa said. "Something tells me Lowther isn't as dead as we thought."

They passed through. Ariel looked behind them. The magic barrier was gone--it only worked one way. Whoever lived here must have been in isolation all its existence.

Their first steps took them on the short road to the palace gates. Past the archway, they saw the first signs of life--gnome-like men, not more than four feet tall, with large noses and stringy hair. They wore threadbare robes and dull, saggy expressions. Each was either carrying something or getting something to carry. Their steps were slow, with no hurry and no spirit.

"Who are they?" Elsa whispered.

"No idea," Ariel said. Not even the local folklore could help with this one.

"Excuse me..." Rapunzel bent down to one hauling a box on its back. "We're looking for... um, hello? Could you help us?"

The gnome passed by, never saying a word. Rapunzel stepped in front of it. It trudged around her, never looking up.

"They're like... slaves," Ariel said.

"I wonder if Lowther created them," Elsa said.

The three of them kept walking, avoiding the creepy gnomelings by staying on a straight line to the palace.

"No guards," Ariel said.

"You don't need guards if no one can find where you live," Elsa said. She knocked. No answer.

Elsa pressed her ear to the door. "I guess we go in." She pulled back on the door. The three of them slipped inside.

The door opened onto a hallway dedicated to decadence and hedonism. Beautiful diamonds and jewels lay in glass cases for display. Gold coated the floor and ceiling while red velvet covered the walls.

"Wow," Rapunzel said. "He certainly is living well."

Giant intricate murals painted hallway walls. Many of them depicted scenes of grotesque violence and nudity, enough to make them blush. Further down, the main entrance hall was a mess of gold coins, gems, and coffers. Piles of riches lay on each side of the staircase. A porcelain rivulet of sparkling water ran from west to east in a small in-floor aqueduct.

"This is insane," Ariel whispered. "And where is everyone? Does he live alone?"

"Is he alive at all?" Rapunzel added.

"Ravir and Arcius were long-lived," Elsa said. "And I think those workers would stop working if they didn't have anyone to work for.

The three girls split up, searching the giant hall for the castle's resident. Thick buttery smells like chocolate and roasted meats permeated the carpet. Ariel knelt closer to the indoor stream. Thirsty, she took a handful of the sweetest, most delicious water she'd ever tasted.

Rapunzel scrutinized a curvaceous statue, deciding whether it was artistic or vulgar. Then she noticed some others and realized it was a matter of comparison.

"Wait, I think I heard something," Elsa said. She was near the west hallway corridor.

The two others ran beside her. They heard it too--a woman's voice. Maybe many women. They continued on, listening for the next chuckle or cough, until reaching a door at the end of the hall.

It was a big room and poorly lit. Inside were women, all kinds of women wearing bustiers, tassels, lace, and other skimpy outfits. Some lounged in giant soft cushions, smoking hookahs from an end table. Others sipped green liquid out of wine bottles. But most lay sleeping,   draped on the floor or arms splayed, left in whatever narcotic ecstasy they were in. Most had distasteful expressions on their faces and slept comatose.

"What kind of place is... Oh..." Elsa said.

"What?" Ariel asked.

"The seclusion, the decoration. This is a pleasure-palace," Elsa said.

"That's what all this is?" Ariel asked.

"I guess if you had ultimate power and not many morals, this is what you'd do: live a life of luxury," Elsa said.

"He couldn't use his power to help other people?" Rapunzel asked.

"I don't think he's the sort of guy where that would cross his mind. He's used all his magic for self-indulgence. He uses women for carnal pleasure and slave creatures for servitude. And there's no one who could tell him otherwise."

The women must have seen them, but were too intoxicated to care that three people never seen before had walked in. Maybe the first in hundreds of years. Assuming these were actual people, not simulacrums. The power of Temeris must have had limits, didn't it?

"Excuse me," Elsa said. "We're looking for, uh, ah..."

The woman, who had tan skin and a two-piece lingerie set, wobbled as she glanced sideways. She gave a little smirk then walked away.

"Does anyone know where we can find Lowther?" Rapunzel asked.

"Or the king of this castle? Or whoever's in charge?" Ariel asked.

The women stirred, hovering in stupor. Ariel shuddered to think what they did when they weren't in this room.

The door opened. A single gnomeling stood outside.

"Master requests three," it said. "Three who haven't been seen in a while."

"Us," Rapunzel said, raising her hand. "That's us. It's been a long time since we've seen... the master."

The gnomeling looked them up and down. Rapunzel realized it was staring at their clothes. She and Elsa were still in the drab laundrywoman garb and Ariel's dress was ripped and muddy.

"We need to change though," Rapunzel added. "Give us a minute. We were..."

"We were cleaning," Ariel said. "That's it."

The gnomeling shrugged.

Rapunzel pulled Elsa and Ariel by their shoulders to the back of the room. They ducked behind a long dressing screen hidden in a dark corner. Discarded clothes lay in giant pile. The three of them tossed items to each other.

"Does this fit me? No. This one? No. This one?"

"Hurry up, hurry up."

"Where are the pants that go with this?"

"No. No. Ugh, no. What is this? Is this something you're supposed to wear?"

"Ergh, too tight."

"The snaps go on like this... Pull this down. There."

"Watch your elbow."

"Here, try this blue one. It goes with your hair color."

"This is just a sheet."

"That's nothing. Look at this. It's just one square inch of fabric."

Ariel walked out from behind the screen first. While the others kept searching for something that would preserve their dignity, her people had no qualms about bare skin. She had chosen little green panties with a transparent skirt. It showed off her legs and reminded her of the ruff around her waist as a mermaid. Her bra was red instead of purple, for something different. But for modesty's sake, a plain infinity scarf wrapped around her neck and chest.

The problem was she couldn't keep the trident strapped to her back with such skimpy clothing. And leaving it behind was not an option. Then she saw a discarded grass skirt on the ground. With a little quick weaving, she fastened it to the trident's tines. Now it looked like a palm-leaf fan she could carry around.

Rapunzel peeked out, unbraided golden hair spooling behind her. Hopefully, Lowther wouldn't recognize her as a magical artifact. Her purple and pink one-piece bodice covered her torso, except for the lacing, which exposed the skin from breastbone to navel.

"This feels so weird," she whispered. She clutched a gold necklace that looked pretty, unaware how it drew attention to her neckline.

"It looks good," Ariel whispered back. "Watch your stockings."

Rapunzel rehooked the white lace stockings that stretched to mid-thigh.

The gnomeling was still waiting for them in the doorway. The two of them posed and grinned.

"Elsa?" Ariel asked through gritted teeth.

"I am not coming out," she whispered.

"You've got to," Rapunzel said.

"No."

Rapunzel leaned behind the screen. "It's not that bad," she said.

"It's demeaning."

"It's okay. We all look like this. It's just another disguise. No one who matters is going to see you."

"Girls, he's waiting," Ariel whispered, eye contact still on the gnomeling.

Elsa emerged walking tall and courtly, wearing a two-piece arctic blue lingerie bikini. The top was covered with glittering sequins and trimmed with white fur. The bottom, also furred on the hips, attached to sheer blue stockings that ended in high heels. She stood beside the two other girls and tried grinning.

The gnomeling sighed and turned, making a slight tug of the shoulder to say "come on"

They followed him across the palace to the western wing, through more monuments to decadence--replicas of long-forgotten art, sculptures, lithographs. Magic flowers emitted pungent smoke. They could hear a waterfall from behind one of the doors.

The tour ended in the solarium--a tiled room with three glass walls so warm sunlight could shine through. Four meagerly clad women stood around a porcelain tub, two of them massaging a pair of porky feet.

The tub was full of sweet creams and oils, mixed together in a greasy mess. Rapunzel resisted the urge to pinch her nose. Only the head and feet of "the master" stuck out, but that was enough to frighten them about what the rest of his body looked like.

Lowther's face was grotesquely fat, pocked with zits, glistening with tallow and sweat, especially in the folds in his neck. His blotched, red cheeks quivered as he spoke.

"About time. Oh, you do look new," he uttered. "That glamour spell is finally providing some range." He squinted. "Slight builds. But easy on the eyes."

Lowther's body rose out of the cream bath, using magic instead of his own muscle. His feet touched down on the white tile as light as a feather. Milk and oil dripped off him like whey.

Ariel, Elsa, and Rapunzel tried their best to look away without looking like it, although his monstrous bulk covered any of his privy parts.

With another flash of magic, the residual milk evaporated off his body. One of the women slipped a thin bathrobe over his shoulders.

"Well, it's been a while. You can choose. Should we go out to the island or watch a tournament?"

The three of them eyed each other, knowing every millisecond that passed would gain suspicion.

"Um, what tournament is it?" Rapunzel asked.

"You know, the daily tournament of souls and freaks? My fancy's wandered to the disfigured as of late. How do they fight? I was thinking next should be people with no arms versus no legs. Should be interesting to watch."

Elsa swallowed, suppressing her urge to vomit. "Let's do the island."

Lowther cocked his head. "Very well."

He raised his hand. The glass walls separated and melted away, opening a hole to walk through. Lowther headed outside as gnomelings rushed forward, laying down swaths of carpet in his path.

Ariel, Elsa, and Rapunzel followed him down a grassy hill to a river bank. At the bottom lay a small dock with an unusual tied-up boat. Instead of being a bladed shape, it was a rectangular platform on two steel barrels welded end-to-end.

Lowther hoisted his bulk into a pile of red velvet pillows in the center. He must have been using magic to keep his heft aloft, because there was no way he could move on his own. A dish of cheeses and grapes appeared to his left, a bucket with wine in cold water on his right.

"Red, you drive. You ain't got much on the balcony, but a big enough garden. And I like having a keen view on the way." He turned to Rapunzel. "I'd ask you, but your hair's a better door than a window. Better trim that back. There's such a thing as overdoing it, you know."

Lowther curled his fingers to Rapunzel in a "start feeding me" motion. Rapunzel plucked off a grape like it was rotted and pressed it into his mouth. This was like feeding livestock.

Ariel clenched her teeth and walked up to the steering column. She searched for a rope or sail release. Suddenly the boat started off.

She looked over the side, expecting the boat to move on its own. But a neat line of oars stuck out from holes, turned by tiny rowers beneath them.

"Are those gnomelings?" Ariel asked, momentarily losing herself.

"Huh?" Lowther's piggy, glazed eyes glanced to Ariel's viewpoint. "Oh, the little slaves. Of course."

"Did you create them?" Elsa asked.

"Of course. Are you new?" He looked alarmed, like he was about to figure out the jig was up. Then he settled. "Ah, you're flattering me. Got it. They're remnants of the townspeople. I've transmuted and resurrected them so many times, the bodies have become somewhat... mangled. That's what happens over... I don't know. Two hundred? Three hundred years? Ah, who cares. Anyway, I didn't 'create' create them. That's divine power. But I do seem to have found the perfect form. Strong enough to work hard, small enough not to be a threat. Not that it matters anymore--their minds are attuned to my needs." He scratched at one of his boils.

He opened his mouth toward Elsa and the chocolate dish. She daintily picked up a piece and dropped it on his tongue. To her disbelief, this was making chocolate look disgusting.

"But the women you left untouched," Rapunzel added.

"Well, I wouldn't say untouched. Haw haw." He laughed with a throat full of phlegm. "A glamour spell or two does wonders to keep things stimulating." Lowther accepted a mouthful of grapes.

"You do seem to have created a paradise," Elsa said while he chewed.

With mouthful, Lowther said, "I don't know why anyone with magic talent doesn't do this. Why are they so concerned about establishing power and dominating others? What does it get you? A headache."

"You could have helped your fellow man," Rapunzel said. Elsa gave her a look that shut her up.  

Lowther was oblivious. "Why concern the self with lesser mortals? This is a gift. I earned this. It would be foolish not to take advantage. Hellfire could envelope the world for all I know. Let it burn. I've got my own little slice of heaven here."

The boat lurched forward, sliding across a sandbar. Elsa, Rapunzel, and Ariel jerked. Lowther's fat rippled.

"What was that?" Ariel asked.

"We're here." Lowther hoisted a leg over the pillows and held up his arms. He was gesturing for help.

Rapunzel and Elsa each took an unctuous arm, held their breath, and pulled him up. He waddled off the boat onto the sandy riverbank.

Above the grove of trees, scores of colored birds tweeted and fidgeted. A cherry-red and lime-green parrot hopped from branch to branch. Larks and quails zipped from one tree to the other in complex weaves. Elsa had never seen anything like it. These birds weren't meant to be on the same continent, let alone the same forest.

Lowther turned back his head. "Red! What are you doing? Rope up the boat. You want it to float away?"

Elsa and Ariel sprang to work, tying the boat to a nearby tree. "I can't believe this is working," Ariel whispered.

"He's been in his own private paradise so long, he thinks nothing can get in," Elsa said.

"I don't get it. How is he not miserable? He gets everything he wants. Everything he tries, he wins. There's no adventure."

Elsa shrugged. "Guess he's whittled his needs to simple ones."

Lowther held out his arm and, in a shower of sparkles, a spear materialized. "This'll be impressive. We'll find that Silverwing reindeer today. A hart. I've seen its tracks."

"Silverwing deer?" Ariel asked. "Those are rare."

"Indeed. Excellent sport. And this one's of fourteen tines. Been in the forest a while now. Could be my last one. But I'll take it down."

Lowther stalked forward through the shrubs of the rough land, holding out his spear. Ariel, Rapunzel, and Elsa leaned into each other.

"Eric told me there are no Silverwing reindeer in this land anymore," Ariel whispered. "For hundreds of years."

"He must have seized them long ago," Rapunzel said.

"And he's hunting them for sport?" Elsa asked. She clenched her fist. Rapunzel put a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"Ladies! Attend!" Lowther shouted.

The three of them followed in heels and skirts, keeping as far back as they could without being obvious about it.

"Here's my theory," Elsa whispered.

Ariel thanked her stars for something to distract her. He had ordered complete quiet, only speaking to ask for more wine or to wipe the sweat between his folds. Their feet hurt from treading the thick-hewn meadow.

"So Lowther gets his magic from Temeris. Must be the body since Arcius has the heart and Ravir the mind. I bet that's the reason for all his fleshly desires."

"That makes sense," Rapunzel said. "Explains why he didn't take over any countries. He didn't need to take revenge or prove himself."

"He just selfishly created his own paradise," Ariel added.

Elsa nodded. "And he locks it off, so no one else can get in. No one can find him. No one can disturb him. Otherwise, his little illusion would break. He can make it so that anyone even thinking about it forgets right away. That way no one even comes on it by accident. That's why no one knew what you were talking about, Ariel."

"So then... how come I saw it?" Ariel asked.

"I have no idea. But it's a good thing you did. Or we would have never found this place."

Ariel smiled. "I couldn't have done it if you didn't believe in me."

Lowther grunted, as if he had fallen over something. "Where are you ditzes!?" he bellowed. "More wine!"

They skipped up to him. A pink stain ran down his tunic.

"Look at this. I've spilled all over my chest. One of you should be carrying this." He shoved the bottle into Rapunzel's bodice.

"Sorry, sir."

Lowther pointed at the ground. "Tracks. Found him. Just a matter of time now." He treaded forward as stealthily as a beached whale.

They followed the path, with Lowther poking the ground occasionally. Ariel spotted it before Lowther did--a giant stag camouflaged by white-barked trees. With its thick rectangular body and white chest, it looked magnificent.

"Ah," Lowther said. "There. First I'll silence our feet." He waved his hand. Lowther took a step. Instead of the crunch of leaves and grass under his elephantine foot, it made no sound. Lowther continued on.

"Why doesn't he just turn invisible?" Elsa snarked to herself.

"Sh, don't give him ideas," Rapunzel said.

The beast perked up once. For a reindeer, a healthy dose of paranoia attributed to a long life. But Lowther continued regardless. He strafed around the trunks, keeping the reindeer in sight. When he had a clear shot, he repositioned the spear to overhand.

Rapunzel and Elsa relaxed a little. They didn't believe he had the muscle strength to reach his target. With a grunt, the spear launched high into the air.

When it reached the top of its arc, it continued on. Rapunzel and Elsa's jaws dropped. He was using magic to propel the weapon. With a sickening thwack, the pointed end stuck in the deer's midsection. It mooed and dropped.

"Got it." Lowther pumped his fist.

He sprinted to his kill like a baby who'd learned the joy of walking. After a moment examining the body, he plucked out the spear. He stood with one foot on the deer's side like a magnificent hunter. "Remember this ladies. I might want a picture later."

Blood trickled out of the black hole with each labored breath. The beast was still alive. All that magic and he hadn't even made a kill shot.

Lowther took his foot off. "Phew. Now I'm hungry. Hey! Chop, chop." He clapped his hands.

Gnomelings appeared from all corners of the forest and sped toward the clearing. They set a table, chairs, a white tablecloth, plates of food and drink, and candelabras.

As Lowther sat, a gnomeling stuck a pipe in Lowther's mouth and lit it. "Come, girls. Stop looking at that hideous thing," he said as he puffed.

They stood vigil, watching its body heave up and down. Its glassy eyes stared out and its tongue hung out. "You're just going to leave it?" Ariel asked. "You're not even going to eat it?"

"What? No. That's disgusting. I have stuffed goose liver pate right here. Why would I eat that?"

"Not even for your workers?" Elsa asked. "It could be a treat."

"Pfeh. I'm not going to waste it on them. Grain and rice is all they need. Now get over here. There's honeyed fig tarts, oatbread, and lobster caviar. We can have lunch while we watch its life fade."

Ariel and Elsa forced themselves to turn away. The gnomelings pulled out chairs for them at the circular table.

But Rapunzel didn't move.

Ariel turned. "Rapunzel, what are you doing?"

She heaved a big breath.

Ariel didn't know what she was thinking, but Elsa did. "Rapunzel, that's not a good idea," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"I have to." She knelt down to the wounded animal. Rapunzel coiled her hair over the wound. Its head twitched.

"Girl! What are you doing?" Lowther commanded.

She ignored him. Pressing her hand to her heart, she sang. "Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine..."

The blooming light cast her in silhouette. Lowther leaned back, speechless. When she finished, she stood up. The reindeer propped itself up on one knee.

"Wh- wh- wh- wh- wh- what was that? What did you-"

That was all Lowther could manage. As soon as the reindeer was on all four legs, it made a deep whoofing sound. Rapunzel sprinted out of the way before it rampaged forward.  

Ariel and Elsa dove aside. The gnomelings squealed and returned to the corners of the forest where they had appeared.

Lowther stayed seated and slack-jawed until the monster was only feet away. Then he upset the table and chair trying to scramble away, but only managed a few feet. The reindeer rammed him with both antlers.

The girls never thought such a man could lift into the air, but they were witnesses. Lowther cartwheeled ten feet above the forest floor, then landed with a sickening thud. The reindeer bolted into the forest, disappearing.

Lowther groaned. When the lights stopped dancing in front of his eyes, he focused on the three heads with flinty stares. One was holding a golden trident to his throat.

"Who are you girls?" Lowther asked. "You're not from here."

"No." Elsa said. "We're not."