#self-hosted environments

[biglisbonnews]

Upbound Spaces brings managed control planes to self-hosted computing environments Upbound Inc., the startup behind the popular open-source Crossplane project, today announced a new self-hosting feature for its flagship control plane technology, enabling users to deploy managed control planes in self-managed computing environments. Upbound Spaces enables customers with rigorous compliance and data sovereignty requirements to benefit from the company’s Crossplane control plane technology. The launch of […] The post Upbound Spaces brings managed control planes to self-hosted computing environments appeared first on SiliconANGLE. https://siliconangle.com/2023/09/06/upbound-spaces-brings-managed-control-planes-self-hosted-computing-environments/

[virtualizationhowto]

Docker Development Environment: Test your Containers with Docker Desktop

Docker Development Environment: Test your Containers with Docker Desktop #homelab #docker #DockerDesktopDevelopment #SelfHostedContainerTesting #DockerDevEnvironment #ConfigurableDevelopmentEnvironment #DockerContainerManagement #DockerDesktopGUI

One of the benefits of a Docker container is it allows you to have quick and easy test/dev environments on your local machine that are easy to set up. Let’s see how we can set up a Docker development environment with Docker Desktop. Table of contentsQuick overview of Docker Development EnvironmentSetting Up Your Docker Development Environment with Docker Desktop1. Install Docker Desktop2. Create…

[cosmicpuzzle]

Pros and Cons of Venus ♀ in Each House

1st House:

Pros:

♎Attractive, refined and diplomatic.

♎Balanced and amiable.

♎Social and polite.

Cons:

♎Vain and superifical.

♎Uses charm to get things done.

♎Self-serving.

2nd House:

Pros:

♎Good taste (not just in food but in all things of value).

♎Financially successful

♎Makes others feel valued.

Cons:

♎Vain spender.

♎Status conscious purchases.

♎Materialistic bringing.

3rd House:

Pros:

♎Pleasant and tactful communication.

♎Good relationship with peers, neighbours, teammates.

♎Not argumentative.

Cons:

♎Sweet talks and Flirting nature.

♎Superficial Emotions.

♎Tendency towards affairs (while travel or neighbours)

4th House

Pros:

♎Good relations with family especially mother.

♎Domestic comforts and luxuries.

♎Good host to guests.

Cons:

♎Private with feelings, emotions.

♎Wastes money on luxuries.

♎Needy in love.

5th House

Pros:

♎Ability in arts, drama, music.

♎Deep and loyal in love.

♎Love of children and mate.

Cons:

♎Attention seeker.

♎Tendency towards affairs

♎Vanity and excessive enjoyment.

6th House

Pros:

♎Good relations at workplace.

♎Good sense of service,

♎Clean and hygienic environments.

Cons:

♎Critical in relationships, argumentative.

♎Uses charm to climb at workplace.

♎Mean spender.

7th House

Pros:

♎Good at forming relationships.

♎Deal maker and negotiator.

♎Fair and just in interactions.

Cons:

♎Pleasure seeker.

♎Too many relationships.

♎People pleaser.

8th House

Pros:

♎Deep conjugal bond.

♎Financial benefits from others.

♎Satisfying sexual life.

Cons:

♎Taboo relationships

♎Marries for money or sex. Makes money illegally.

♎Porn Addictions and vices.

9th House

Pros:

♎Love of learning, travel and cultures

♎Good relations with foreigngers.

♎Good parents and mentors.

Cons:

♎Falls out of love due to boredom.

♎Falls in love with teachers, elders or inappropriate persons

♎Dislikes anything that reminds them of home or their culture.

Venus in 10th House

Pros:

♎Positive social image.

♎Love of work.

♎Good relations with boss and superiors.

Cons:

♎ Uses charm and beauty to get things done.

♎Works only for money or with aim on promotion.

♎Love based on status. May trap their boss or superiors in scandals

Venus in 11th House

Pros:

♎Active social life and community.

♎Makes money through social platforms.

♎Good sense of design and brand building.

Cons:

♎Social climber and tendency towards online affairs.

♎Uses network to get things done.

♎More interested in product building than its use.

Venus in 12th House

Pros:

♎Selfless in love and relationships.

♎Charitable and giving.

♎Wise investments.

Cons:

♎Excessive spending and indulgence.

♎Addictions and vices.

♎Keeps love hidden and suffers hence.

All the above points are quite general and can be modified by conjunctions aspects of other planets and the general nature of your birth chart.

Please don't get offended if you see something for yourself and you don't possess those traits. 1 in 12 people could have these.

For Readings DM

[loveemagicpeace]

🎈Jupiter & Your Spouse🎱

🎈Jupiter is the planet that indicates what characteristics your husband/wife will have. Which zodiac sign can it be and where can you meet the person.🎈

❤️‍🔥Jupiter in the 1st house - your spouse can be fiery, independent, intense, daring, fearless. Can have a lot of energy and can also invest a lot in things he is passionate about. It gives a lot to the appearance. A person's energy and expression can mean a lot to him. A spouse may like someone who is fearless or a risk-taker himself. Having Jupiter in the first house indicates that the right partner can help you discover your true self and bring out your best qualities. They expand your sense of self and can make you feel very self-assured. You can meet your spouse at an event, sporting event, competition or somewhere related to you. You can just when you go outside the comfort zone.

🤎Jupiter in 2nd house- your spouse can be stable, materialistic, stubborn, likes comfort, luxury, money. Can spends a lot on food, movies, music and above all enjoyment. Determined and fixed. Your partner will be vocal about their beliefs and seek a partner who shares their perspective. You can meet a spouse at the bank, at a concert, in the cinema, or at a hotel. You could also meet them out in public while indulging in your favorite things.

🧪 Jupiter in 3rd house - your spouse can be communicative, talkative, intelligent, quick to respond, rational, likes many different things and topics. Spouse can put a lot on communication and the mind. He could be younger than you. This gives you good and understanding partners, and they will support you in every phase. You also tend to attract overly complicated relationships that can cause you a headache. Jupiter in the third house shows you might fall in love with someone you grew up with, like a classmate from school, a neighbor, or a family friend. You can meet a spouse through siblings, relatives, at school, quizzes, social games, it can also be your neighbor, roommate.

⛵️Jupiter in 4th house- your spouse can be caring, compassionate, emotional, can help you and is always there for you. A person who values ​​privacy and likes to be at home or in the comfort zone. A person who gives a lot to family and home. Can be very protective and tough. Sometimes also capricious. You can meet them through your mother, close people, at a house party, in your home environment, somewhere near where you live, dinner party or out walking your dog or housewarming hosted by friends.

🎡Jupiter in the 5th house - your spouse can be proud, playful, strong, always carry an inner child, loud, fun, romantic. He gives a lot to hobbies, fun, socializing. He likes things that are light and pleasant. Can be warm, confident, determined, generous and also selfish. It indicates that your future spouse will be the center of attention, an outgoing person who is widely known. You can meet them at some activities, casino, can also be love at first sight, at the summer time, out on the town, whether dancing, singing karaoke, or exploring a new city with your friends.

🖼️Jupiter in the 6th house - your spouse is caring, takes care of health, can be a perfectionist, sees details, hardworking, organized, critical. It gives a lot to lifestyle and movement. He knows what he wants out of life. He might seem particular to some, but he's just the right brand of neurotic for you. You can meet them at work, in your everyday life (for example, in a store, pharmacy, physical exercises, fitness center), at the doctor's.

🧸Jupiter in the 7th house - your spouse is romantic, harmonious, fair, balanced. A spouse can give a lot of peace and attitude around him. The spouse can be harmonious, beautiful and like orderliness and beauty from the outside and from the inside. He knows how to see the beauty in everything. Marriage is important to him. You can meet them at a beauty competition, through friends, you can also through your ex, in court.

🦋Jupiter in the 8th house - your spouse can be intense, mysterious, deep, persistent, obsessive, self-sacrificing. Does everything for the people he loves. A spouse can give a lot on privacy, secrets, sharing things with another person. It may be important for them to share everything with you. You can meet them in the financial administration, deeper places, secret places, intimate places, can also be your psychologist or meet them there. You may meet them at a spiritual retreat, religious gathering, or group event where you can meet like-minded individuals.

🪂Jupiter in the 9th house - your spouse can be optimistic, happy, religious, even from another country, adventurous, open, direct, passionate. It can have a lot of life in it. Live in the moment and for the moment. A spouse can give a lot to education, novelty, innovation. Can always support you in everything you do. You can meet them on a trip, adventure parks, church, at someone's wedding, university, lecture.

🎱Jupiter in the 10th house - your spouse can be determined, strong, powerful, serious, responsible, older, more mature, hard-working. It can be someone who is recognizable and a public figure. Jupiter here make spouses more responsible and loving. They just aren't dominant or commanding by nature. On the flip side, no matter what transpires in their lives, these gentlemen will always encourage and believe in their spouses. You can meet them in a public place, public institutions, through parents, father or grandfather.

🪁Jupiter in the 11th house - your spouse is unique, different, dreamy. He always has a set goal and vision. A free person who gives a lot to independence. Can be a person who is sociable or can be a loner. Very smart and intelligent. Can also be famous on social networks. Different from the others. Someone who is smart and intelligent and know all about social media and can also be a logical person who think with logical mind. They may be your best friend. You can meet them through friends, social networks, lonely places, can also be in unpredictable way.

🛼Jupiter in the 12th house - your spouse can be spiritual, dreamy, emotional, compassionate, kind. A person who gives a lot to dreams and fantasy. A person who care for others. Can also be very artistic person. Here it is necessary to make sure that the person is not manipulative or addicted to drugs. The image of a person sometimes is not the way they present themselves at first. you can actually find out all of things about them later. So it's important that you get to know the person. You can meet them at a dance, art club, gallery, hospital, prison.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🫧🦋🛼

[tealvenetianmask]

I was confused at first about why the writers chose "infester demon" as Rolando's identity, rather than something like "possessor" or . . . idk . . . anything else.

So let's see. An infestation takes over a place and often destroys it (think about termites in a house or an invasive species in a forest or a body of water).

Rolando's specialty is not just taking over his victims' bodies to use them. He moves in, explores all the dark crevices of their minds, and takes over all of it.

It starts small . . .

And quickly goes out of control.

Digging deeply into memories for ammunition, removing the host's connection with their present reality.

Rolando is portrayed as horrifically and physically invasive.

He goes right through Blitz, knocking him violently to the ground, and once in his mind, ties him up, licks his neck, holds his eyes open . . .

He brings forward the worst memories Blitz has and makes sure they consume him so that Blitz becomes completely engulfed and loses control of his mind and body. The possession is horrifying because Blitz's movement and fighting style change completely. The infester has moved in and completely overtaken the previous inhabitant.

Rolando infests his victims. And the way to get him out? Make the environment inhospitable to him (while thankfully the other inhabitant, Blitz, "can handle it."). Like putting down poison around the foundations of a house to get rid of termites.

It's an apt metaphor too: trauma can be like an infestation.

The adverse experiences come in and change neural pathways in our brains, intertwining themselves with our very ways of experiencing the world, with our senses of self.

We can fight trauma with all sorts of things, and it varies wildly person to person. In this situation for Blitz, a supportive friend who's able to tell him the reasons why he's so valuable to her, who's willing to physically beat the infester out of him. Who can help him build new, stronger connections in his brain, memories that strengthen him rather than break him down.

But while Rolando seems to be gone, Blitz's trauma isn't. Like many real infestations, it lurks in the shadows, weakened but ready to try again to take over when it gets another opportunity.

[yanderes-galore]

Self aware Arthur hcs

Arthur Morgan my beloved.... 🥺

Yandere! Self-Aware! Arthur Morgan Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Self-Aware yandere, Stalking, Possessive/Protective behavior, Kidnapping/Isolation, Forced relationship.

Arthur is, story-wise, the first playable RDR protagonist who could be self-aware.

At first he probably doesn't realize he's meant to be your host.

He's essentially your puppet, one for you to use to interact with his world.

It's a weird experience....

For example, Arthur no doubt experienced death countless times.

Be that from you accidentally getting him killed or something story related...

Arthur experiences each loaded save like it's some sort of nightmare or dream.

When Arthur begins noticing something off, like deja vu or events that should have killed him...

That's when he senses you.

He's no longer just another piece of code, he's more alive than all the rest.

Like a virus he's given sentience, which can soon spread to John and Jack once you swap characters or games.

Arthur has trouble comprehending it all at first.

Yet soon he ends up growing attached to your presence on the other side of the screen.

It has a certain familiarity to it.

It's amusing the amount of things Arthur lets you do to him.

One of my favorites is the fact that RDR2 has such a focus on outfits.

There's times when you aren't doing a mission that you'll drag Arthur to a clothing store or barber shop.

Arthur originally finds it degrading.

He's a hardened killer, a murderer, an outlaw...

But you're doing him up and cleaning him, making him look civilized.

Eventually he actually doesn't mind it.

Admittedly he's flustered at the fact you can SEE the bathing scene since he feels your presence there... yet grows used to it.

If anything that may coax romantic feelings towards his player since you're seeing him at his most vulnerable.

Most of Arthur's life ends up revolving around you, actually.

He quite literally experiences multiple lifetimes with you.

There's times you make him a better person... times you make him worse than he ever was...

Then there's times you accidentally toss him off a cliff looking for dinosaur bones.

There's a good amount of experiences Arthur has had with you.

He can hear your every mutter to yourself too, along with whenever you walk away from the game to process something.

He's intrigued that deaths in this game affect you as much as him... even if it's not the first time you saw them.

Arthur's surprised by how attached he's gotten to you.

He often listens to you speak, sometimes even addressing him.

You'll sometimes ridicule you and him for a wrong button press, or laugh about something stupid...

Arthur has lost count of how many times you ran his horse into a tree....

However, seeing your reaction is almost worth it.

I imagine with Arthur, the more times you play, the more his sentience develops.

Soon he's finding ways to alter his environment... which he then uses to interact with you.

If he considered anyone his partner, it's you.

You've seen pretty much every part of him by this point... every desire.

He even misses you when you're away from the game for months... or years.

Gaining more control of his environment should be able to help limit that.

Arthur loves doing nearly everything with you.

He learns to enjoy fishing, hunting, the games, you making him all fancy...

Hell, the robberies are fun too.

He hates to admit it at first... but he's infatuated with a person out of his world.

Once Arthur can alter the game, I imagine he'd try to lock you in Chapter 2?

Most of the gang is alive and Micah's in jail.

In fact, Arthur just ends up barring you from Micah's mission altogether.

He'd rather him rot there, honestly.

Arthur may even make other objectives available that normally are only available in other chapters or with John.

Surprise! You can go past Blackwater now as Arthur.

He may even just make the whole game available to you just to keep you playing as him.

Which I imagine pisses John off later.

He originally does subtle changes which makes you wonder if you accidentally modded your game or not...

Only for him to soon just overhaul the whole thing.

Why not go further?

What if he pulls a Monika from DDLC at times and pauses the game to talk to you directly.

He likes checking in on you, even if you are currently terrified.

You can't shut down your device, he disabled that.

He may just calmly sit in camp, locking the camera in front of him as he chats with you.

Truth is, he's wanted to do this for a long while.

He's always wanted your attention.

Surely you understand, right?

Don't you also feel a pull towards him?

No? Well... He can change that too.

Arthur technically stalks you.

When you're sleeping or cleaning he discreetly turns on your device to watch you.

He likes keeping an eye on you.

In a way he's protective of you.

Although, once he finds a way to drag you into his digital reality...

He may just end up a bit possessive too.

If you stay in your world, Arthur could lose you.

Another game may grab your attention, or maybe another person will have your heart.

Then he won't matter to you anymore.

He can't accept that thought, not when he's experiencing something so real.

This would be, even if I feel it's unrealistic, what drives him to abduct you into the game.

Arthur would make you part of the gang and protect you like you’re partners.

That, or, he changes everything.

You'd get to live in a house... he'd be your man... and he'd have you isolated all to himself.

He adores you, always has since he became aware of you.

Trying to escape? There's nowhere to go.

He'll use invisible barriers to keep you where he wants you just for your safety.

But there's no way you're going home.

In your world, it just seems you've vanished.

In reality, you're trapped by a video game character and forced to be his lover.

Arthur tries his best to be good to you.

He holds you close, cuddles you at night, kisses you lovingly.

Who knows, maybe he can figure out how to convince you your real life was fake.

That way, he won't have to worry about you trying to escape or hating him.

You'll be all his to keep, to love, to cherish...

Now you'll never leave again.

[fluidstatick]

I just started watching Trauma Dump with Lou Wilson, and Y'all, it needs to be said, this is GENIUS.

Trauma!Lou is the inverse of Host!Vic on VIP. He's unserious, glib, flippant. He's dedicated to creating Sick Rad Dope Fun Mental Health Content. He's a Walking Facade of Party Energy, approaching the deeply personal process of self discovery with no sense of transparency or gravitas whatsoever.

Anyone who's seen Lou in anything - Dropout, Crit Role, WBN, even Kimmel - knows he's a damn good actor and a magnetic personality. This project tests our understanding of Lou and asks us what we think we're seeing.

Vic said in an interview (which I can't find now, unfortunately) that they've encountered people who believe Host!Vic is the real Vic, and they have to explain that just because a character has their name doesn't mean it's Really Them. VIP is improv, but there's two comedians bouncing off each other in that environment. By contrast, Trauma Dump is also improv, but Lou's the only actor on set. Paul is, presumably, just doing his job. (unless he's an actor playing a therapist, but that's a whole different level of meta I'm not equipped to dig into here.)

The premise is awkward in its own right: Lou says he wants to get profound, but then dodges like his life depends on it. Paul is certainly taking the situation seriously; he's not sure whether he's meant to find Lou's behavior funny or not. It's tonally bizarre in a way that rhymes with VIP but also subverts the expectations of improv. You can already see the confusion in youtube comments, two hours or so after the stream. "This whole thing is a bit, right?"

This bit's game, to borrow a term from improv, is the gap between Lou and Paul, and How Lou works to maintain the gap while Paul works to close it. How much of Trauma Dump is Paul using his expertise on a fictional character, and how much of it is actually catching The Actor Lou Wilson off guard?

Actors put pieces of themselves into the characters they play; their perspectives and experiences. It's part of the mechanism of acting. Therapists remove their personal biases and feelings from their work environments; it's part of the mechanism of therapy. With these facts in mind, where are the lines? Where does Lou Wilson (sick rad awesome fun PTSDTF bro) end, and Lou Wilson (Actor and Human Person Who Exists) begin? We genuinely don't know, and that's what makes it an incredible soup of funny, scary, surreal, and magnetic.

I really, really hope this turns into a series.

[spinji]

Characters With White Hair Have Mutated Quirks

Right what it says on the tin. I have a theory that white hair is a sign of a quirk mutation i.e. someone with a quirk completely unrelated to the hereditary genes they should have gotten their quirk from. This is not the same as a merged quirk, where the power from the child is unique but comes from combining both of the child's hereditary genes. Those quirks can come with their own issues but they aren't completely out of left field given who the parents are.

Eri

This one is self explanatory. It's outright stated that Eri's rewind quirk is unnatural; it's where we're first introduced to the concept of mutated quirks. And her hair has always been naturally white.

All For One and Yoichi

It's established by the narrative that All For One and Yoichi are the first two babies born with what would be considered a quirk by modern standards. Most notably though, both are completely different from spike-like growths their mother had.

Now, because this hasn't been animated yet, it's unclear if their mother has white hair herself or just lightly colored hair but either one doesn't debunk this idea in itself. If her hair is different then both twins have a clear mutation, and if it's the same then her growths could be its own mutation. The series does explicitly mention that their mother was exhibiting a premature quirk an entire two years before quirks as we know them were discovered so clearly there was something different about her.

Shoji

This one is also clearly stated as being a mutation, and it makes sense. Shoji's environment growing up was so hostile to heteromorphic quirks to such a degree that he was violently beat and chased out of his village. If his parents had similar quirks, or any kind of physical mutation for that matter, I doubt they would have survived long enough for Mezo to be born.

The Todoroki-Himura family

This one is the hardest to justify because it's not just one case, it's at least six. Geten, Rei, Touya, Fuyumi, Natsu, and Shoto all have 50% or more white hair. It's very clearly a genetic trait here.

But Rei's genetics specifically are already questionable.

It's stated by Geten that the Himura's have a history of marrying within the family. While details are minimal, if this cycle of incest has been going on for several generations at this point, it's possible that the very ice quirk Enji sought out was a mutation due to the Himura's unstable genetics. It's not a particularly odd or destructive quirk like other, confirmed, mutations, but it is surprisingly dominant and pervasive.

All four Todoroki children have some aspect of this ice quirk, suggesting that the hair color and the quirk are linked.

Touya is also one of the only people in the series born to be unsuited for his quirk. While concepts like the Quirk Doomsday Theory apply more broadly, that theory defines quirks too powerful for the body they host, not a body so genetically twisted that they inherently can't use their ability. Touya's hair also changes in hue over time in a way very unnatural to any other character in the series, as if Rei's genetics are spreading like a virus.

While marrying Enji instead of one of her cousins did diversify the genetic pool of the kids to a degree I still am willing to believe there is some significant damage to their genetic line from all of the Himura's inbreeding and the clearest sign of that is in the ice quirk.

Shigaraki

This one is an interesting case because Tomura's hair actually changes with the appearance of "his" quirk. Keep in mind for this part that the desaturated light blue that Tomura is typically depicted with is an error on the part of the early anime staff since the only color images of Tomura at the time had blue lighting. From the start it was intended to be white. Note that he's already being drawn with white hair in the hideout raid arc.

Up to this point, everyone with a mutated quirk has been born with white hair but Tenko wasn't. His hair turned from black to white after his decay manifested. Keep in mind though, decay was not his original quirk.

While we don't know what the initial quirk was (I personally choose to believe it was float or airwalk) he was born with one naturally before All For One took it and replaced it with Decay. Decay is also a copied and modified version of Overhaul, which we know ISN'T a mutation quirk.

Essentially, All For One artificially mutated Overhaul, and the resulting quirk caused the same physical changes that natural mutations do. The quirk itself is the source of the mutation, so passing on a mutated quirk causes the same physical changes as being born with one.

What about AFO/OFA?

Obviously both All For One (the quirk) and One For All's original form have the ability to pass quirks to others and we've seen over a dozen different people take quirks from both of these processes and not see any changes to their hair pigment.

While being given a quirk you weren't intended to hold is unnatural it's also not technically mutagenic. Giving and taking quirks is a natural process for both AFO and OFA so while the creations of these quirks were a mutation, their intended use is not.

One For All specifically stocks and absorbs the quirks from the users. It latches onto the quirks that are already there or takes up that place where a quirk would have been in the cases of All Might and Midoriya. All For One meanwhile is playing with pre-established quirks. Unless the quirk itself is carrying a mutated strain of DNA, it wouldn't affect the one being given said quirk.

There are holes in this, namely that ED6 shows Eri's mother with her hair style/texture but at the same time anime-orginal additions are difficult to weigh since we don't know if something that insignificant got author approval. It could also be a matter of all mutants have white hair but not all white haired characters are mutants. Either way I don't think this was an intended pattern by Horikoshi, just an interesting way to spin it.

[innaillus]

Drawing Ryōmen Sukuna

Development notes

This post has been in the making since last year, before the manga has reached its current arc. My aim was to respond to comments that pointed out that my version of that time didn't look like the one in the anime. I calculate everything I do and the way I do it. My current goal is to share my thoughts on the development of my take on him - simply because I'm a nerd when it comes to anatomy and I love figuring things out. It involves a lot of thinking, questioning, analysis, dissecting information and building theories. So I totally understand if it's not anyone's cup of tea.

MANGA SPOILER WARNING

The very beginning

I used to have a serious case of lack of self-confidence. My earliest art of Sukuna dates back to 2021, but it always felt like my skills are not worthy of this particular character. I never shared my art. I was also struggling to find my artistic voice. I was obsessed with the idea of semi-realism, but even if I managed to pull it off after weeks of stylisation practices, I didn't like the results.

Due to personal reasons, I stopped trying to draw him for a long time.

The development of "my" version

It was an entirely conscious decision to draw him differently.

The top reasons for the change was that I didn't want to sexualise him in his host, Yuuji, who is a minor. Back then I thought he inflicted the deformation on himself (extra limbs, eyes, etc), for the sake of efficiency, and I was curious what he looked like before that - or what he would look like in a civilised environment.

During the process, I considered a number of factors:

the beauty standard of the other JJK men - I wanted him to fit the lineup - his original appearance made him stand out quite much

in a setting where he adheres to the rules of society, more or less, I believe his MBTI personality type (ENTJ) would dictate a lot of his choices when it comes to appearance, at least to a certain extent. I thought he would choose to have an appearance that fits the beauty standards of the era

I kept his tattoos because it's a very distinguishing feature of him, but I also exercise freedom in the way I draw them, to make them as stylish as possible

Reincarnation

I used to believe once he reincarnates, his proportions would be closer to that of a "normal" human, even if he has some extra limbs. However, his size and features are above and beyond of what we are used to, and even the story emphasises their malformed appearance. So a a whole new era of Sukuna started in my art. I chose my favourite manga panels of him and mix-and-matched the most attractive features into a figure that I consider on the fine edge of monstrosity and unconventional handsomeness.

Even when I draw him with a regular number of limbs, I keep his usual mass and proportions. I dubbed this form "true gains" form.

I also realised that some of the tattoos Yuuji's body displayed was a product of the partial reincarnation stage, like we see it on Tsumiki's forehead.

NOTE: Did anyone notice that Sukuna is getting progressively more and more human/handsome in the manga? When he took over Megumi's body, I also noticed that as the story progressed, he started to look older and more mature. I'm curious of it was a conscious decision.

Twin dilemma and speculations

According to the Japanese wikipedia page, the mythical figure Sukuna could have been a conjoined twin. Despite my extensive digging in the matter, I was shocked by the recent lore drop.

My question: what does Sukuna look like in a universe where he did not absorb his twin in the womb during development?

It hasn't been confirmed, but I find it very possible now that he was born with his extra limbs, eyes and mouth, as well as the deformed, wide features. (...as opposed to my first theory about him altering his own body for the sake of efficiency)

This, however, would mean that in a universe where both him and his brother are born healthily, he would look different. There is the obvious lack of extra arms, eyes and mouth - but I believe he would also be closer to the JJK beauty standard of men, as far as proportions go (eg. more narrow face, anime-esque nose, larger eyes).

At first I was hesitant to accept this idea, as I'm very attached to the 4-arm hulk / "true gains" form now, but then I realised: this would mean that "my"version of him actually has logically explainable place in at least an alternate universe.

Thank you if you got this far.

I may edit this post later. Let's see where the story takes us.

[silveryshards]

Club Night

NSFW! KiriBaku. Lion Hybrid!Kirishima x Human!Bakugo. All characters are 18+.

Tags/Warnings: KiriBaku, lion hybrid Kirishima x human Bakugo, self-kink shame, anxiety attack, purring, pheromones, sex work, hybrid anatomy (aka lion dick), Top!Kirishima, Bottom!Bakugo, biting, mating bite, scent kink, size kink, size difference, dry humping, cum eating, blowjob, eating ass, fingering, anal, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dry orgasm, maybe squirting, creampie, passing out from sex

Word Count: 9,516

A/N: I was inspired to write this based on Dark's rendition of Lion Hybrid!Kiriahima over on Bluesky, if you like this fic go give her some love! Additionally, if you prefer x reader, I will eventually have both gender neutral reader and fem reader versions, just keep your eye out on my masterlist!

Having a hybrid kink wasn’t as taboo as it used to be. Now, there was a whole hybrid sex work industry that existed, above board! And highly reputable club just opened in the city near Katsuki Bakugo.

Bakugo’s heart raced as he walked through the doors into the thrumming bass of the club. The beat so strong he was able to ignore the flutter of his heart and instead focus on the vibrations in his body. He handed the bouncer his ID and paid the cover charge.

The dance music continued to pour through the club’s speakers as he ventured inside. His tongue sat heavy in his mouth, so dry he could almost taste it. Water, the bar, he needed water. 

Bright, vibrant lights strobed and flashed across the club. There were many human patrons like Bakugo mulling around the dance floor, around the show stage, and around the bar. And then…there were the hybrids.

They were all so beautiful. How could they all be so beautiful it hurt? Each in their own unique outfit. Some wore cropped tanks and leggings, others in stripper lingerie, and some in regular street clothes. Accessible to all levels of patron comfortability. He appreciated that.

Bakugo wasn't sure he’d be able to approach any of the more sexily adorned hosts. His cheeks flushed scarlet and he rushed to the bar to stutter out his request for water. Thankfully, the bartender was a gentle looking human. He smiled at Bakugo knowingly and got him a bottle of water.

Sagging into the bar seat felt like the only thing keeping him grounded. He was excited but he was also so anxious he could barely breathe. What was he doing here? Him, of all people, in a place like this?

Was he really that pathetic?

No. No. No. Fuck off anxiety. Indulging in this kink and seeking the company of a hybrid in a consensual and healthy environment was good. His heart raced harder and the pounding in his ears swelled to a tempo that drowned out the techno.

Squeezing the water bottle didn’t help. Squeezing his eyes shut didn’t help. He had to ground. He frantically tried to recall one of his on the go grounding rituals.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit somewhere quiet?” A deep, soft, but energetic voice asked, cutting through the thunder of Bakugo’s heartbeat.

Bakugo’s eyes snapped back open, and he turned, mortification icy in his veins. Next to him stood a crimson furred lion hybrid that had to be at least 7 feet tall. His scarlet hair fell in waves around his chiseled face, framing it like a mane would. The longer locks cascaded down his back all the way to his ass.

His feline ears stuck out on top of his head, the crimson fur contrasting against scarlet locks. He was all shades of red. Sharp, kind crimson eyes searched Bakugo’s as he took in the lion’s beautiful visage in a stunned, anxious silence. A scar ran across his right eye from eyebrow to cheekbone.

His big hands were covered in that same crimson fur and fingers were tipped with black claws. The fur disappeared underneath the sleeve of his black plaid button up, so Bakugo wasn’t certain how far it went. And behind him lazily swished a smooth crimson tail that ended in a thick, fluffy tuft of scarlet fur, the same color as his hair.

Those big hands…one reached for Bakugo as his vermillion eyes softly scanned his face.

“Hey, um. Sorry to bother you. Did you hear me? Are you okay? Do you need to sit somewhere quiet?” He gently asked again, leaning in and down to make sure Bakugo heard him.

The energetic techno music came back into focus around the ringing and pounding of Bakugo’s heart. Lights flashed across the lion from the dance floor.

He asked you a question! What was it? Quiet, he was offering you quiet. Bakugo managed to nod, hands clinging to his plastic water bottle.

“We can go to my room. Can I touch you?”

Bakugo’s stomach flipped at the idea. He was nearly three times his size. Would his fur be soft? But Bakugo nodded again, unable to do much else. The music was filtering through but the ringing in his ears was still loud and dizzying.

The kind lion reached out and took his forearm, pausing to gauge for comfortability, before coaxing Bakugo out of the bar seat and towards the back of the club. He felt numb as he followed, the only thing that felt real was the lion’s large, soft hand cradling his own.

Bakugo’s lion paused at the door and unlocked it with a key, walking in. The room was far more…customized than he expected. Weights and a punching bag sat in the corner, the walls were covered in traditional Japanese art, samurai concepts, and martial arts materials.

The bed took up almost all the rest of the room. It was a king, probably because the lion was so big, and sported a green camouflage bedspread. Everything looked so…normal. It eased some of the pressure in Bakugo’s chest.

After looking around, he was guided to sit on the bed. Big, strong hands lifted him and deposited him with ease. The bottle of water was taken from his clenching hand and it was pressed to his bottom lip.

“Can you take a sip for me?” The lion’s dulcet bass drove away the ringing and allowed Bakugo to recognize that the muffled music sounded calmer in the room.

Bakugo would do anything he asked.

Bakugo pulled a big draw from the bottle and swallowed and went to pull more when the lion pulled the bottle away.

“Hey, hey, I said sip, not to chug!” he laughed, it was such a cheerful sound.

Bakugo looked up at him as he smiled and heartily laughed. That broad, sunny expression lit up his entire face. His sharp pointed teeth glinted in the light as his crimson eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Sorry,” Bakugo murmured, voice quiet.

“S’okay. Being hydrated is manly! But choking on water while having a panic attack, isn’t. I’m Kirishima by the way, Eijiro Kirishima,” Kirishima said, sitting on the edge of the bed facing Bakugo.

“Manly?” Bakugo questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Manliness and chivalry, the two things I strive most for in life!” the huge lion hybrid exclaimed, perking up with a grin.

“That’s great,” Bakugo said, smiling softly, the lion’s sunshine attitude infectious.

“Are you feeling better now that you’re out of the lights and noise?” he asked gently, leaning forward to examine Bakugo again for signs of distress.

“Yeah, it actually wasn’t sensory overload that triggered it. I liked the vibe! It was��” Bakugo trailed off, not sure he wanted to bare his soul to this man. He came to indulge in a kink. While he’d had no intentions of treating his hybrid host as an object, he didn’t come for emotions. This was…sex.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m okay, now, though. I can go back out so you can find someone to…host,” Bakugo said, standing up and walking towards the door. Even though Kirishima was exactly Bakugo’s type, he was…a little big. And that intimidated him. 

“Hey, wait!” Kirishima reached out to gently encircle his arm with gentle claws. “You don’t have to go. I’m not kicking you out. I want to make sure you’re okay first.”

Bakugo thought back to earlier when he’d wondered if the lion’s fur was soft. It was. And warm. Not like petting his cat at home where their fur just felt like the temperature in the room. It was the temperature of Kirishima’s body. 

The thudding of Bakugo’s heart resumed, but this time, it wasn’t nerves or self depreciating anxiety. His body warmed as Kirishima’s hand on him made Bakugo acutely aware he was alone with the red lion hybrid, in his hosting room. 

“I promise, I am okay.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke, but blush started to creep up his neck and dusted across his cheeks. “I just spiraled about something dumb for a second. I’m grounded now. Honest.”

The lion frowned at Bakugo and stood, towering over him. He swallowed and tried to ignore what Kirishima’s presence was doing to his body. He needed to go back out and do this properly, pick a hybrid, pay them, and then come back to one of these —

Eijiro’s big, soft hand cupped Bakugo’s chin and tilted his face up to look at him. Concern plastered his beautiful face. His crimson eyes scanned Bakugo’s face and studied him.

“Do you want to leave because I’m not attractive to you? I know I’m not as lithe and pretty as a cat or leopard, I know I don’t have a knot like the canine hybrids do. I’m just kind of really…big. No one really comes in looking for a lion hybrid. I’m not as popular or cool as the others. I guess I have my teeth and claws, and my tail. But my tail doesn’t really add much of anything.”

It swished behind him in slow, uncertain patterns. It was Bakugo’s turn to study his face. Was he serious?! He couldn’t be serious.

“W-what?! No! It’s not that at all! Why would you say those things about yourself?! You’re so fucking hot and I’m sitting here trying to hide how turned on I was just from you touching my arm!”

The lion’s eyebrows shot up curiously. Bakugo regretted the words he said instantly. He took a step back. Go back out, find a host who’s looking to fuck, and leave this gentle giant alone.

“I never assume what a guest comes to the club for since there are so many options. It’s a bar, a very safe dance club, a strip club, a host club, and a brothel. Lots of reasons and you never really know why someone’s here.”

Those crimson eyes started dragging across his figure, he could practically feel Kirishima’s gaze ghosting on his skin, those kind eyes were now predatory and hungry.

“But you didn’t ask why I had a private room or a bed in here. Which makes me think you came looking to indulge in the brothel. That.” His sharp teeth flashed again as he grinned. “And the fact that you’re apparently turned on just by a touch.”

Bakugo shifted backwards and let out a nervous breath. He didn’t want to feel hunted, he came here to find some fun, cute hybrid, have sex, and go home. A nervous swallow moved in his throat.

“I did. I did come for sex. I was going to eventually go to the hosts, see who was available that did that type of hosting, and see if anyone looked like they weren’t… completely turned off or disgusted by me. And hope that they were cute and I could have a fun night with them,” Bakugo admitted.

“I’m one of the hosts that does sex,” Kirishima said. He took another step forward, eliminating the distance Bakugo had created. He felt the heat radiating off the lion’s body.

“I dress in street clothes so I’m more approachable. A big lion in assless chaps and a collar harness with chains doesn’t exactly scream “welcome”. But a plaid button up and jeans? Safer.”

“O-okay,” Bakugo stuttered. “I still would like to go and do this properly.”

Again, Bakugo tried to leave the room. He’d go out to the host stand and do this right, and make sure there wasn’t a host that he was more comfortable with. Because the way Kirishima was looking at him made him feel like dinner.

Bakugo loved and hated it.

“‘Kay. Let’s go.”

And then Kirishima was dragging Bakugo behind him out to the host scheduler’s podium. Bakugo saw his chest rising and falling faster than a man of his stature and fitness should have been winded by the walk. Kirishima leaned down and said something to the human woman standing there.

As she lifted her pen to write something down Bakugo stepped forward and spoke. “I’m sorry, I would like to see who else is available as well?”

He didn’t look at the lion. He didn’t want to see the insecurity he’d tried to dispel earlier in his eyes again. There was nothing wrong with asking.

The woman looked at Bakugo and nodded. “There is obviously Eijiro, who is a lion and does the full host experience.” She then gestured to a couch behind her where three other male hybrids sat.

“Izuku, the bunny, Shinsou, the raven, and Shoto, the cat.”

Bakugo looked at each of them. The green bunny hybrid was cute, but too twink for his tastes. The purple haired raven had a scowl on his face and Bakugo been distressed enough for one night. And the white and red cat looked completely disinterested.

Then Bakugo’s gaze found its way back to the red lion who was still holding his hand. He had been right, there was ghosting insecurity in those crimson eyes, but also genuine interest and desire. Gently, Bakugo squeezed his hand.

“Kirishima, please.”

Bakugo stepped up to the host stand and took care of the business aspect of it. Without balking at the price, he paid for Kirishima’s time for the entire night until close. Ruby eyes widened at that, but he said nothing.

The scheduler went over the rules with Bakugo, explaining he only had to go as far as he wanted, and he was under no obligation to have sex. There were other rules that were just common human decency so they went in one ear and out the other.

“Have a good evening,” the scheduler said, waving as Kirishima dragged Bakugo back towards his room again.

He hurried to keep up with the lion. Once again he found himself in Kirishima’s “Den of Manliness”. He had caught the title plaque as they entered this time. Kirishima sat on the edge of the bed and patted where he’d sat him not 10 minutes earlier.

Bakugo took the spot and sat, nervously glancing at the red lion.

“I’m—“

“It’s okay, really. It’s not wrong of you to see all your potential options before choosing. I didn’t help you with your panic attack so you’d pay me. That’s not manly.” His nose scrunched up at the thought.

Bakugo relaxed at that. But then tensed up a moment later when he remembered he was in Kirishima’s private room with a host who knew he wanted sex. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’d thank him and just go home, and then the sweet lion could have the night off without losing pay.

“Hey,” he purred, gently wrapping his strong arms around Bakugo’s waist. “Focus on me, yeah? You’re spiraling again, sweet thing.”

The lion’s warmth made him melt, and he leaned into him.

“Sorry. I’ve just never done anything like this before. Earlier I was…I spiraled because I was thinking I was pathetic for being here. That I was someone who hosts wouldn’t even want to spend time with even if I paid them.”

The big lion listened carefully and gently pulled Bakugo in close. “Can I pull you into my lap?” He nodded. Kirishima did. A deep rumble started in his chest and vibrated Kats’ soul. His lion was purring for him.

“When I saw you walk in, I knew I had to come talk to you. Then I watched as you rushed to the bar and got water and started to have a panic attack. Before I could even think my body had moved to you on its own. And I just wanted to make you feel safe. But you’re also drop dead gorgeous. And if this was just a regular club, I would have hit on you anyway.” His head leaned down towards Bakugo’s face and hot breath washed over his skin, making him shiver. The purring caused Kiri’s voice to reverberate as he spoke.

“I’d love to fuck you.” That was a little more growled than purred. “But I just want to make you happy tonight. So, we will do whatever you want to do, sweet thing.”

Kirishima’s big head nuzzled against Kats’ face and neck, purring louder, hands rubbing up and down his sides. Bakugo relaxed. His ministrations successful, the lion grinned and puffed out his chest more.

Kats’ hands shook a little as he reached for Kiri’s shirt, slowly unbuttoning the plaid to reveal toned abs and firm pecs. Kirishima’s torso was all skin, no fur. Bakugo bit his bottom lip between his teeth and ran a trembling hand down the smooth, hard planes.

The lion purred louder, the noise dropping another octave and sounding closer to an aroused growl. His shirt was discarded, and Kats saw that the fur on his arms was like sleeves, going all the way to his shoulders. Kiri leaned back and rested on his forearms, giving Bakugo space to explore him.

Heat spread in Bakugo’s body again and his hips moved on their own against the lion, aching for friction. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he did it. Kats looked up to see crimson eyes burning with desire for him.

“Tell me what you want, little one,” Kirishima growled, cupping his face with a hot hand.

“You. Please,” Bakugo requested, his body feeling like it was buzzing. He ached. His cock stirred to life in his pants

“You’re so fucking hot, Eijiro.”

Bakugo’s lips and tongue danced across the lion’s pecs and he slowly kissed down hard abs, licking along the V gutters accentuating his hips. Kirishima tasted salty and musky, a musk that flooded his nostrils as Kiri growled his appreciation.

It was heady and hot, primal. He was primal. Bakugo looked back up at him and found crimson eyes watching intently. Kirishima was a certifiable predator but this time his hungry gaze didn’t make Kats feel like prey. It just made him feel wanted.

Deft despite shaking, his fingers reached for the lion’s jeans. Kats’ eyes darted up to silently ask permission. The whistle and rustle of Kiri’s tail swishing behind him sounded. His head dipped in a quick nod.

As Kats’ fingers swiftly undid the button on his jeans the musky scent intensified in time with a deeper rumble sinking into the lion’s chest. His curiosity got the better of him and he pressed his nose to Kiri’s abs again. One deep inhale later he was near dizzy.

“Careful, sweet thing, too much of my pheromones might make you sick.”

Despite having this hybrid kink for as long as he could remember having sexual desire and being obsessed with them his entire life, Bakugo had never heard a single word about pheromones.

“Pheromones?” he asked, gently pulling the zipper on his jeans down. Kiri’s red boxers finally came into view.

Kirishima let out another low, growly rumble. “Mhmm, they are chemical messengers my body releases to communicate with other hybrids.” A pause, he sat up and leaned down, his hot breath was right in Bakugo’s ear.

“Or potential mates.”

The warmth of his breath and the words he had spoken made Kats shiver. His cock ached again and a whimper escaped his lips.

“M-mate?” Bakugo barely stuttered it out.

“Mmmm. Mhmm.” He hummed it low in his chest. “Lion hybrids like me can have casual sex, and we often do. But we can also pair bond to a mate if they are suitable and they accept us, of course.”

“Wait, mating for life?” Bakugo asked, bewildered. The rituals of more exotic hybrids like lions had much less literature available. So he wasn’t sure.

“Mmm. Not quite. Like in a real lion pride, a male can be overpowered by a stronger, more fit male who will drive away the previous lion mate and take the partner for himself, if their mate is interested in the new male that is.”

“Huh, interesting…” It was Bakugo’s turn to pause. “Why are you releasing pheromones? I’m just…a guest of yours…a client…” Another deep breath. “I’m work, a job. Which is totally fine! I didn’t come here looking for anything more than sex. But…yeah..why?”

Kirishima leaned forward again and rubbed his face against Bakugo’s, the corner of his mouth dragged along his jaw and neck, ears twitching and tickling Kats’ cheeks. Kats let out a gentle laugh as Kiri nuzzled and marked him with his scent.

“Yes, I am at work. Yes, you did pay me for my company. But like I said earlier: the second I laid eyes on you I wanted to know you. My body’s responding to those desires. My innate attraction to you. My interest in you.”

For a few moments Bakugo was stunned again. That musky smell was…intoxicating. It had gotten stronger as Kiri had spoken. Was he accidentally spurring Kiri on? Accidentally tempting him to make this…more than just a hosting session?

Bakugo’s mouth opened and closed multiple times as he was at a loss for words. He remembered that one of the rules that he’d barely paid attention to was don’t ask the hosts out. But what if one of the hosts asked him?

“That seems like it’s more than your job title covers. Are you okay? I can leave if you’re having some sort of reaction to me that you shouldn’t,” Bakugo offered as he started to slide off the lion’s lap.

A low, vibrating growl came from deep within Eijiro’s chest and his big hands settled on Bakugo’s hips. Those hands firmly pulled him right back where he’d been just before. The growl sounded scary, but it didn’t make him feel threatened, it was just a warning.

“No. Stay, please.” The lion took a deep, shuddered breath and looked down at him. “I’m sorry I brought up the mates thing. We don’t have to discuss that. You wanted me, let’s just focus on that tonight, yeah?”

Bakugo swallowed nervously again and nodded in agreement. The sexy lion smiled back, his sharp teeth flashing. He leaned down again and nuzzled against Bakugo’s neck, warm full lips peppering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

He inhaled sharply as the kisses made him shiver. Bakugo pulled the lion’s face up, tangling his hands in Kirishima’s thick mane, and kissed him. They both moaned into the kiss and Bakugo’s hips thrust up, seeking friction against his cock.

Kirishima’s large hand pressed into Bakugo’s front. The blonde’s head threw back as the lion palmed his hard on through his pants. A low growl came from the bigger man.

“Like that baby?” His big palm worked in an up and down motion over his cock.

Bakugo whimpered quietly and nodded. “Y-yeah…”

Those full lips captured his again and one hand worked his cock over, starting to create a wet spot of precum on his jeans, while the other pulled off Bakugo’s shirt, breaking the kiss for a second. But only for a second. 

Hot lips crashed back into his and worked his mouth and cock in tandem, making him dizzy. Bakugo tried to keep up with Kirishima’s fervent movements and was quickly swept away. The lion was skilled.

Bakugo gasped and pulled away, “W-Wait.”

Kirishima froze and red eyes softened with concern. “What’s wrong? Do we need to stop?”

The blonde shook his head and took a deep breath, “What if… what if I’m not good? I’m not a virgin but I’ve never been with a hybrid. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened and he looked down at Bakugo. “Wait, you’re worried about my pleasure?”

Bakugo blinked, “Um, duh?”

Laughter so warm and joyous spilled from the lion’s mouth, shaking Bakugo who was still firmly in his lap. The lion wrapped strong arms around the smaller man and lay back on the bed, pulling him down on top of him.

Bakugo let him, though his hands roved over Kirishima’s lap and felt…nothing?

“No one’s ever cared about my pleasure before, just what I could do for them. That’s new for me.” He noticed Bakugo’s confusion and lifted him off his lap, shucking his pants and boxers. The crimson fur covered his entire legs up to his hips, almost like hip high thigh-highs.

Resting between them was a heavy sac, covered in the same smooth crimson as his tail. But above that was a sheath, just like he’d seen in canine hybrids. There was a peak of something pointed and pink in the center.

“I’ve been holding back getting too worked up. A lot of clients like to see it come out,” Kirishima explained, smiling at Bakugo. “I didn’t want to take that away from you if you wanted it. It’s not that I’m not turned on by you, trust me.”

Bakugo nodded, nervously biting his lip. “I wasn’t worried about, um, watching you get aroused.”

Kirishima smirked and cupped Bakugo’s chin in one big clawed hand. “Alright then, sweet thing.”

Before his eyes, a long, thick, and seemingly…barbed?! cock emerged from Kirishima’s sheath. The head wasn’t rounded like humans, it was more pointed and slim, with hardly any flare between head and shaft. Along the cock were small, flesh colored barbs that pointed towards the head.

Bakugo’s eyes widened and he scooted back. “Wait, I'd heard of cats having barbs but I didn’t know hybrids did too!”

Kirishima saw his alarm and sat up, gently reaching for him to grab his hand. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, sweet thing. It won’t hurt you. I promise. They’re not keratin like actual cats. It’s somewhere between cartilage and regular skin. They’re soft. Feel.”

The lion gently guided Bakugo’s hand towards the thick, seemingly barbed cock. He slowly ran his fingertips over the shaft, it was smooth and soft, just like a human dick. The “barbs” were flexible and moved under his fingers, they were also completely soft, no sharpness to them.

“So…do they just bend backwards when you thrust in or jack off? Does it hurt?” Bakugo asked, fascinated.

Kirishima reached down and wrapped a big hand around his cock. Jesus, even in his big hands it still looked huge. He stroked it a few times, causing a bead of precum to leak from the pointed head. As his hand stroked along, the little barbs splayed backwards before settling back flat after his hand passed over them.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nope, they’re meant to do that. It’s supposed to stimulate the inner walls and cause pleasure.” Sharp teeth flashed again as the lion smirked.

Bakugo’s mouth opened in a big O as he listened, a dark flush of red returning to his cheeks. Kirishima’s big hands settled on his hips again and pulled Bakugo back into the lion’s lap. Clawed fingers undid his jeans quickly and rolled him onto his back, pulling boxers and jeans off in one fell swoop.

Crimson eyes met crimson eyes and both their chests rose and fell quickly as they took in each other’s naked forms. Kirishima’s hair fell around them like thick scarlet curtains. His lion leaned in and those full lips finally captured his own.

A slutty, unabated moan escaped Bakugo’s lips as he kissed Kiri back. He wrapped his hands around the big man’s neck and buried his fingers in the thick scarlet tresses. Pulling the lion closer, he wrapped his legs around his hips, and ground his cock into the smooth, bumpy planes of Kiri’s abs.

That pulled another growl from the lion’s chest. A hot tongue ran over Bakugo’s lips, seeking entrance. As another moan escaped them as the lion pressed down against his cock.

When his lips opened Kirishima pushed his thick, long tongue into his mouth. Bakugo lapped against it with his own and discovered small, micro versions of the barbs from his cock on his tongue. And the warm metal of a tongue piercing in the middle.

Their tongues swirled and danced together, the texture of Kirishima’s tongue and the ball of his piercing making Bakugo’s head spin. His cock throbbed against the lion’s abs as they moved against each other.

Heat was already dripping and pooling in Bakugo’s belly. The feel of Kirishima’s furred hands on his slim waist and the taste of his tongue in his mouth was overwhelming. He was already getting close. A flex of abs made him moan loud into the red head’s mouth.

“Kiri,” he gasped into the lion’s mouth. “G-gonna.”

The lion grinned and kissed from the corner of his mouth to his ear. A low, purred growl echoed in Bakugo’s ear. “Go ahead, sweet thing. Paint my abs with your cum.”

Bakugo’s hips bucked hard against his abs and he bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to cum. He didn’t want to be pathetic.

“Oh, no, no, no. Not my sweet thing holding back. Don’t be embarrassed, I’m so happy you’re feeling good and enjoying yourself. We have all night. Cum for me, sweet thing. Cum for me.”

With a cry of, “Kirishima!” Bakugo’s eyes rolled back in his head, his back arched into Kirishima’s abs, and his hips stuttered as his cock throbbed against the muscles. He came, and god did he cum hard.

Thick ropes of white cum painted both their abs as Bakugo’s cock pulsed between them. Kirishima growled with pleasure and nipped at Bakugo’s ear. “There you go, sweet thing, there you go. Bet that feels real good, doesn’t it?”

The purr that started rumbling in the lion’s chest made Bakugo gasp as it made his abs vibrate and continue to stimulate his still hard cock. He pulled his hips back, needing a second to breathe.

“God my mate is so pretty,” Kirishima moaned against Bakugo’s neck. His beautifully textured tongue ran up the column of Bakugo’s neck. Full lips wrapped around his pulse point and sharp teeth scraped against his skin.

Bakugo shivered again and whimpered. Kirishima reached between them and ran his fingers through the thick cum there and brought the white coated fingers to his mouth. He sucked them clean and moaned around them.

“And his cum tastes good, too,” the lion moaned again.

“Fuck,” Bakugo whimpered, “you can’t just say stuff like that…” His cock was already throbbing and hard again.

The lion’s big head lifted and he grinned down at him. “Of course I can, I want you to know how much I adore you. You aren’t like other guests. I actually want to fuck your brains out.”

He leaned back in and hot breath washed over Bakugo’s neck. “I’d mate you in a heartbeat if you wanted me to. My bite would go right here.” His hot tongue lapped wetly over his neck before settling at the base where it met his shoulder. Those sharp teeth nipped at the spot and the blonde moaned again.

Kirishima growl-purred again and his lips wrapped around the spot. He sucked the skin there between his teeth, nipping at it while making Bakugo writhe and moan like a whore beneath him. The delicious pressure on the sensitive skin shot pleasure right to his aching cock.

“W-what would it mean? If you bit me?” he blabbered out through a moan.

Another growl rumbled through the lion’s chest and his pupils dilated. The musk smell filled Bakugo’s nose again and his eyes fluttered, that delightful dizziness buzzing in his brain. The growl made Kirishima’s teeth vibrate against his skin.

“It would mean you would be mine. You’d be my mate, pair bonded with me for life. You’d only ever be with me for the rest of your life. I’d still need to be a host for work but if you wanted me to stop having sex with others I’d stop. We’d live together. We’d be mates, lovers, a real couple.”

Kiri’s jaw twitched and his teeth pressed against the skin again, pulling another moan from Bakugo. “But it’s not something to be taken lightly. I need enthusiastic consent. And I should probably take you on a date first —”

“Please. I’ve never wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you before. You are so incredibly beautiful. Sexy. Handsome. Kind. You are everything…I’d be so lucky to be yours,” Bakugo begged.

Kirishima growled again, those big clawed hands gripped his waist tighter, his jaw twitching with the urge to mark this perfect little mate. “Please, Eijiro, make me yours. If you want me.”

With another, low, possessive growl those big, sharp teeth sunk into the soft flesh of Bakugo’s neck. He cried out in a combination of pleasure and pain. His cock throbbing as the sensations went straight to it. Fingers tugged hard on scarlet locks and he arched into his new mate.

Then Eijiro started purring and the dizziness gave way to a feeling of euphoria, warmth, and bliss. Bakugo relaxed into the plush bed and let out a sigh. The musky pheromones the lion was giving off now smelled divine.

“Pretty little mate,” the lion purred, lapping at the bite mark. The texture of his tongue along the fresh wound made Bakugo’s eyes roll back and a fresh groan escaped his lips.

Full lips closed around it and tended it, lapping and sucking eagerly, darkening the skin on and around the bite mark. Beautifully so, if you asked Kirishima. The dark mark with the shape of his teeth marked his mate as his.

Those lips crashed back against Bakugo’s and there was a hint of copper still on them as they proceeded to dance together once more. They felt more in sync this time, each stroke of a tongue or twist was matched easily by the other.

Both men moaned into each other’s mouths, bodies moving against one another. Bakugo’s aching cock rubbed against the lion’s abs again, gliding easily due to the cum that still painted them. Kirishima’s rock hard, textured cock was pooling precum on Bakugo’s thigh.

Kirishima pulled away and slowly kissed and licked his way down Bakugo’s neck to his pecs. That long, thick tongue circled his perky nipple and the blonde’s back arched off the bed, pushing that plump pec further into the lion’s mouth. The ball of his tongue piercing flicked against the hardened nub.

“Oh fuck,” Bakugo groaned.

He was rewarded with further purring that vibrated that little piece of metal against his surprisingly sensitive nipple. Kirishima’s sharp teeth gently dragged along the delicate flesh and Bakugo hissed. Those sharp teeth bit down around his nipple and left perfect imprints of his teeth.

“Fuck!” Bakugo whined, pleasured tears springing in his eyes.

Those crimson eyes rolled back as the lion continued to ravish his chest, sucking and licking on each nipple in turn, those clawed hands squeezing and kneading the ample muscles. Bakugo started to feel like he was floating, soaring higher into the clouds with each bite Kirishima decorated his pecs with.

He felt the hot wetness of that textured tongue drag down his abs. A purred groan left the lion’s throat as his tongue lapped up all the white that was adorning his chiseled stomach. Teeth continued to sink into soft skin and hard muscles.

When Kirishima finally swallowed the last of Bakugo’s cum and sat back, his little mate was spotted with bite marks. Most prominent of which was the one at the base of his neck, deep purple in hue. The lion growled in pleased joy at the sight, his massive cock twitching.

Leaning back in, his long tongue swirled around Bakugo’s aching, throbbing cock. The blissfully textured tongue cleaned it of the rest of his mate’s salty, delicious cum. Kiri’s tongue was long enough it looped around the aching member and swirled around it, rewarding him with a strangled moan from his mate.

Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He looked down and saw his lion’s mouth open, those sharp teeth glinting in the light. His pupils were still blown wide and his feline ears twitched on the top of his head. That pierced tongue was still wrapped around his cock and working it over.

This was so much better than any fantasy he had ever had. Calloused fingers wove back into that scarlet mane and he gently urged his new mate down. “S-suck me off, please? Please? ”

With a growl, Kirishima had opened his mouth and sunk his lips down on the hot, throbbing length. Bakugo’s hips bucked up and pushed his cock to the back of the lion’s hot, tight throat. Kiri growled and started to devour Bakugo’s cock in a way that made him see stars.

He’d never had a blowjob this good. With each bob of his mate’s head, his full lips ran along the length, that agile tongue swirled around it, and the pressure as he sucked was making him dizzy. The pressure was already building in his belly again.

“K-Kirishima! I-I’m!” The only response he got was more intense sucking and faster head bobbing. He whined out, his orgasm barreling down on him.

Bakugo screamed out as he exploded on his lion’s tongue and down his throat. Kiri groaned and swallowed it all down, lapping Bakugo’s over sensitive cock clean. He quivered and whined softly.

“S-sensitive.”

Kirishima immediately pulled off and sat back, looking at the beautiful visage of his mate in bliss. He was covered in his bites and sweat glistened on his pale skin. A soft purred growl left his chest as he closed his big hand around his huge cock.

Using the precum that was leaning from it profusely as lube, Kiri stroked a clawed hand up and down his massive length, head tilted back with a groan. His hips bucked into his own hand, and he wanted so desperately to be buried balls deep in his little mate.

As he stroked himself, he looked back down at his blonde human. His voice reverberated with the purr that was still emanating from his chest. “Do you top or bottom, baby? I usually top but I know my…anatomy can be intimidating, regardless of my size.”

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath. “I..usually I’m a bottom. I’ll be anything you want me to be.” 

His deep voice was so loving and earnest it made Kirishima groan and growl, tapered head dropping more precum onto the bedspread below.

“Are you comfortable taking my cock, little mate? It’s big and if you’ve never used toys with texture before it might be…overwhelming,” Kiri purred gently, still stroking his length.

The lion was composed externally, but inside his instincts were screaming that he needed to seal the deal on his little mate. That he needed to shove his lion cock balls deep in his little hole, bite him again, and then scent mark him with his pheromones all over so everyone would smell his claim.

His massive cock throbbed in his furred hand, the little fleshy barbs making him shake. They weren’t just for his mate’s pleasure after all. The precum matted his fur but allowed for a perfectly smooth glide up and down the length.

Bakugo’s crimson eyes were fixated on that big, furred, clawed hand as it stroked up and down his mate’s lion cock. It really was huge. Even in the lion’s big hand it looked unusually large. Kats doubted he could wrap his hand completely around it. He would need two. How would it fit?

“I-I…I want to take it,” resolve steely in Bakugo’s voice, “But it’s so big. I don’t think it will fit. I’ve never taken anything even close to that big before….” He couldn’t keep the quiver out of his voice as he said it.

Kirishima’s cock lunged with desire at that and the lion bit his lip to hold back a moan. Fuck. His little mate just had to say the perfect words that triggered his size kink, didn’t he?

“Fuck,” the lion growled, leaning back over his mate and caging him in with one hand next to his head. He captured his sweet lips with his own and pushed his thick tongue into his mouth.

Bakugo moaned out his appreciation and danced his tongue along Kiri’s, chasing the salty taste of his own cum that still lingered. Kirishima’s hips thrust into his own hand as they made out, the monster drooling precum onto Bakugo’s still recovering soft cock. He growled into his mate’s mouth and pushed his tongue deeper into the depths, the tip tickling the back of his throat.

Pulling back suddenly, a thick line of saliva connected their lips, Kirishima panted and observed his mate. “Gonna prep you with my tongue, ‘kay? Then I’ll use a toy. My claws don’t exactly lend well for it so I can’t finger you.”

“You’re...gonna eat my ass ?” Bakugo whispered the last part, feeling embarrassed. “I-I didn’t shower before I came. Just this morning, I wasn’t expecting to need to be that clean.”

“Shhh, it’s okay little mate, sweet thing. I don’t mind, so long as it’s still okay with you that I do it. Is it?” he asked it softly while nuzzling his cheek against his mate’s, resuming his calming purrs.

The tightness that started rising in Bakugo’s chest eased and he let out a shaky breath, inhaling the alluring musk that the lion was releasing. It made the noise in his brain dissipate and let him resume floating in the bliss of being with his mate like this. The blonde nodded and sighed softly.

“If it’s not gross to you, I’m okay with it,” he finally breathed out.

Kirishima wasted no time, a large grin spreading across his face. He shuffled down and placed himself between Bakugo’s legs. Large hands gently moved to the backs of his thighs and pressed them up to his chest, exposing that little pucker to him.

Kirishima licked his lips to clear the drool that was threatening to drip from them. He leaned down and kissed across the backs of Bakugo’s thighs, biting lightly and peppering the unmarked skin with pretty bite marks.

Hungrily he sucked a hickey into the seam of his thigh and ass cheek, earning himself a whine from his mate. He let out a slow, hot exhale over Bakugo’s rim and watched as it flexed and quivered in response with another whimper.

A hungry smirk overtook his grin and he dove in. Sloppy, open mouthed kisses assaulted Bakugo’s hole and crack. Each little sound that he let out spurred the lion on further. He flattened his textured tongue and lapped over the rim, feeling it quiver. His mate bucked as his piercing dragged over it.

The manly, sweaty-salty, musky taste filled Kirishima’s mouth. A low, pleased growl rumbled and vibrated his tongue as he circled the rim with the tip of the muscle. Above him, Bakugo was letting out whimpers and whines with each breath.

Each circle and flat lap of his tongue meant the ring relaxed a little more. Finally, Kirishima nudged the center of the hole with the tip, pressing experimentally. When he found no resistance, the textured muscle pushed in beyond that tight gate and into heavenly warmth.

Bakugo had been eaten out before, but never before by a hybrid. Kirishima’s textured tongue added extra stimulation that made him nearly dizzy. When he pushed in, it wasn’t smooth like a human’s. He felt that texture with each inch of it that sunk beyond his rim.

It was soft but felt like a million little micro tentacles danced against his hole as the lion’s tongue dove deeper. Bakugo groaned loudly and his eyes rolled back as his mate’s huge tongue pushed even deeper inside and flicked against the special spot hidden in his depths.

“Ah! E-Eijiro, there!” he cried, begging further.

Kirishima was more than happy to oblige, thrusting his tongue in and out of Bakugo’s pretty hole, flicking the tip against his prostate with each pass. His mate was falling apart on his tongue, whining and trying to squirm, but big hands kept him still.

Pulling his tongue out Kirishima lapped around and over the hole a few more times. Drool slid from his lips and down his chin, similarly running down Bakugo’s crack and pooling between supple cheeks. With a firm press the lion thrust his tongue back in kept fucking it into his mate.

“Nnghh, E-Eijiro!” Bakugo whined, pleasured tears pooling on his waterline.

Another growl, and with his tongue inside like it was, pressed right against his prostate, it made Bakugo cry out and see galaxies. The blonde’s hands fisted the sheets tightly, trying to hold on like his life depended on it.

Kirishima felt Bakugo’s balls draw up and away from his forehead and glanced up, seeing his lover’s cock was fully hard again and throbbing in time with the thrusts of his tongue. His mate could give him two more, certainly he could, right?

Opening his mouth wider, Kirishima fucked his tongue in harder and faster, flicking the textured tip right up against that swollen inner spot, purring to make his tongue a natural vibrator. Red eyes stared as Bakugo’s cock jolted and throbbed over and over again.

With a solid push, Kirishima pressed his tongue in deeper and rubbed it all over Bakugo’s prostate, lapping at it eagerly, attacking the spot with fervor. He was readily awarded with his mate screaming out and that pretty cock erupting for a third time with white, violently pulsing but only dribbling out a few thick globs that ran down the shaft.

Reaching under his bed and pulling out a toy that was tapered in size, starting as thick as his tongue before slowly increasing to the thickness of his cock, Kirishima sat up and withdrew his tongue. He was a messy eater and his mate’s asshole was completely drenched in his drool. No additional lube needed.

Taking the toy by its flared base, he gently pressed it to Bakugo’s relaxed rim. He fed his mate’s ass the toy slowly. Vigilantly he watched the human’s face for any signs of distress as it increased in thickness.

“That’s it sweet thing, just breathe for me, relax and breathe. Just think about how good my big cock is gonna feel balls deep inside you. Yeah? You want me inside?” Kirishima’s purred voice asked.

Bakugo could only whimper in response. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted to fuck a hybrid more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to fuck his mate more than he wanted his next breath.

“Good, good job, sweet thing. Stay nice and relaxed for me. You’re doing such a good job. So perfect for me, my perfect little mate,” he purred, finally pushing the toy in fully.

He held it still and let his mate adjust to the thickness that was the same as his massive cock. Smashing his lips against a dazed Bakugo’s, he shared the flavor of himself on his tongue once again. Bakugo moaned at how filthy it all was and his ass squeezed around the toy with need.

They made out for a few minutes, lips and tongues moving in perfect harmony. When they pulled apart, lips were puffy and swollen from the intensity, but Bakugo was finally ready for the main event.

Kirishima slowly pulled the toy out of his mate and grabbed the lube from the bedside, applying it to his cock and stroking it with his hand to make sure it’s nice and warm for his little mate. “Ready?”

Bakugo’s crimson eyes met vermillion ones, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, fuck me, please god fuck me.”

With a growl, Kirishima surged forward and buried himself to the base in one smooth, hard thrust, losing control for a split second. Bakugo screamed in pleasure and his eyes squeezed shut. His soft cock erupted with a clear fluid as he came a fourth time and squirted for his mate.

“Fuck,” it was completely growled, low, barely English. “That was so fucking hot!”

The lion was shaking with restraint, watching his little mate pant and whimper on his cock. He needed to hold still. He’d overstimulate Bakugo if he started fucking him now.

Still, the massive thing twitched and throbbed inside, aching and urging him to move. But his mate’s enjoyment was more important than his instincts right now. He wouldn’t be a slave to his primal needs.

“How are you doing?” he purred, cupping Bakugo’s face with his clean hand.

The blonde nuzzled into his big hand and a dreamy smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m amazing. Fuck me now?”

He said it so sweetly, Kirishima’s heart clenched, and he leaned down to capture that pretty face in a loving kiss. He started slowly, rolling his hips so his cock pulled almost all the way out and then slowly sank back in. Bakugo gasped against his lips.

“Oh my god it’s…it’s indescribable,” he whined, grabbing Kirishima’s forearms and digging his nails in.

It truly was, as the lion slowly pushed and pulled his massive cock in and out of him it felt like he was going to split in two. But on top of that, each of those little “barbs” gently stroked his walls as the lion pushed in. The girth stretched him and the texture tantalized and teased.

He was shaking and trembling with each thrust, gasping. Holding on to Kirishima like the was pounding him with all his might when he was just gently making love to him. But that cock those barbs made everything more intense by a hundredfold.

“Doing okay, sweet thing?” Kirishima growled out. The lion was shaking too, but with restraint. He needed to pound Bakugo with all his strength and prove his might as a mate, but he could see how intense just this was for him.

Bakugo couldn’t speak anymore, he only whimpered and nodded shakily. His crimson eyes wide and begging for more. He tugged at the lion’s arms, urging him to go faster, harder.

“Once I start, I won’t be able to stop, I need to fuck you and claim you, little mate. My instincts won’t let me stop when I start.” That deep voice was strained with the effort of holding himself back.

A nervous flash crossed Bakugo’s face and Kirishima let out a shaky breath, “Just tell me stop or tap my arm three times if it’s too much and I’ll make myself stop. Okay? I’d never hurt you.”

Bakugo relaxed at that and nodded his permission. Kirishima growled again and dove in to kiss him, slamming his hips into his ass hard. He drank his mate’s pleasured scream and encircled his big hands around that slutty little waist. Using his grip as leverage Kirishima pounded into Bakugo’s ass with more strength than the human could fathom.

Each thrust rewarded the lion with a scream that he swallowed greedily. His heavy balls smacked against Bakugo’s perfectly supple cheeks and the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the room. The bed creaked in protest, it wasn’t used to his level of abuse. Kirishima never let go with clients like this, ever.

But Bakugo wasn’t just a client, not anymore. He was his everything. His reason to exist. His heart, his soul, his mate, his life. All pinned beneath him and beautifully taking his massive feline cock. Kirishima’s tail swished behind them eagerly. 

Kirishima was growling and purring, groaning when Bakugo’s hole clenched around him as he stroked that special spot inside with the head of his cock. His hands gripped that slim waist hard and pulled his pretty mate down onto his cock as he thrust up. The blonde’s eyes were closed but he still screamed for him.

The sensations were starting to get to the lion. His mate was so hot and tight inside, it felt like he was trying to milk the cum right from his massive cock. But he would last. His mate would cum first, he would always cum first. And Kirishima wanted him to feel better than he’d ever felt before.

Using his hand that still had lube on it he wrapped it around Bakugo’s cock, which was hard again. It wasn’t small by any means, it was actually well above average, but in the lion’s hand it did look small. It just reminded him how much bigger he was than his mate, which made him shiver and his cock twitch inside him.

Kirishima started stroking his mate in time with his thrusts. The blonde’s eyes flew open and his back arched, causing them both to moan loudly as his cock sank deeper into his velvety depths. They were both moaning and grunting in an animalistic way, and Kirishima thrust and pumped harder, chasing their releases like prey.

“One more little mate, give me one more. You can do it. Let me make you feel better than anyone else ever has in your life. I love you. Come on. Cum for me one more time.”

He angled his hips to hit Bakugo’s prostate with each thrust and his mate screamed. The pointed head and stimulation of the soft barbs dragging across that nerve cluster had Bakugo cumming in seconds. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Eijiro!” as his balls drew up and his cock pulsed, but nothing came out, his mate was cumming dry for him.

“Fuck! Katsuki!” the lion roared, slamming in one last time and falling over the edge himself at the sight of his mate cumming dry, for him.

Sharp teeth sank back into Bakugo’s neck as Kirishima emptied his heavy balls deep inside his little mate’s hole. He growled and roared around his neck, seeing stars he was cumming so hard.

His legs shook and he collapsed on his side, completely spent, rolling onto his back to pull Bakugo onto his chest. Leaning in to kiss his mate’s cheek he saw that the pleasure had overwhelmed his little lover and he’d passed out.

Kirishima settled in and gently rubbed his mate’s back, purring lovingly to soothe him. He peppered his face with kisses and then laid back. He was mated, to the perfect little human mate.

Nose buried in messy blonde locks, the lion inhaled the scent that had drawn him across the club in the first place. Smoky, spicy cinnamon filled his nostrils. His mate’s natural pheromones smelled like smokey, spicy cinnamon and male musk.

The purring got stronger as Kirishima realized how happy he was. So, truly happy.

A few hours later when Katsuki woke up, there were still several hours before the club closed for the night. The two cuddled close and exchanged numbers before Kirishima spoke up:

“Want to go dancing?” the lion’s eyes were lit up and that sunshine grin was back on his face.

Bakugo had grabbed his tail and was playing with the tuft of fur on the end. Kirishima purred louder as his mate played with it. “Dancing?” the blonde asked.

“Yeah! There’s the dance floor out in the club! The DJ has really good taste and it’s a lot of fun! Cm’on, I’m sure you’ll love it!” Kirishima had already sat up, accidentally sending Bakugo tumbling off his lap in his excitement.

“Oops, sorry baby.”

Big, warm hands helped Bakugo right himself. They donned robes and quickly hit the showers before returning to pull on their clothes. Next thing Bakugo knew, the giant lion, now his mate, was dragging him out into the loud bass of the dance floor.

The lights arrived and pulsed with the music and Kirishima’s grin only got wider as he started dancing. Well, if you could call it dancing. He more just jumped to the rhythm and fist pounded in the air. But Gods did he look so sexy and happy doing it. His long scarlet hair bounced with every jump.

Bakugo couldn’t help but grin and dance too, actually moving his hips and having a little bit of style to his movements. He wasn’t anxious anymore. How could he be when this hybrid, this embodiment of sunshine, was his lover and mate?

They danced for the rest of the night, getting completely sweaty and gross but laughing all the while. Bakugo loved that smile, the one that lit up the hybrid’s face and made his ears perk up. On the last song Kirishima scooped him up, “Up we go baby!”

Bakugo settled on his mate’s shoulders and he could see the entire club. It was incredible, actually. But after taking an initial glance around he looked down and locked eyes with the only thing in this whole place that mattered: Eijiro.

“I’m so happy I came tonight,” Bakugo said.

Kirishima beamed back up at him: “Me too!”

“I love you, Red.”

The lion had already been beaming, but now it was like someone turned it to the intensity of the actual sun and added happy tears. “I love you, too!”

That night they went home to Katsuki’s place together, and it was the first night of the rest of their lives together as mates. They couldn’t wait to see what life had in store for them next.

My Masterlist

Find me on Bluesky!

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[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

I love Joltik so much I think it's the cutest bug pokemon ever, however would they make a good pet?

[I’m back at last! Did anything big happen while I was away in the pokémon world? Hmmm… Anyway, let’s get right into it!) Joltiks are, unfortunately, a bit of a mixed bag. They are, as you said, pretty cute, and their needs are simple. Unfortunately, “simple” doesn’t always preclude “costly”. But, overall, this is a pretty solid pick for an Electric-type pet.

Starting with their size, these critters are pretty tiny. Space is absolutely not an issue with a joltik, which is a huge plus. Their habitat needs aren’t really fleshed out in the pokédex, so I think it’s safe to assume that most owners would be able to provide them with the environment they need to be comfortable. As far as their personality goes, there isn’t really any data that indicates that they’re particularly anti-social in any way, but at the same time there isn’t anything marking them as cuddly or personable. This isn’t a problem for some pet-owners, especially those who are fond of insects and like to form a special, less conventional bond with a pet. Joltik might not have the broadest appeal at face-value, but they’ve got a place in the pet landscape so far.

The problems come in when it comes to this species’ diet. Joltiks feed on electricity, which they store in a special pouch to use for energy and self-defense (White, Black2/White2, Sword). There are two primary ways that joltiks acquire this electricity, both of which come at a cost. The first is by latching on to “large-bodied” pokémon to feed on their latent static electricity (White). I’m going to go ahead and assume that humans could serve this purpose as well, since “big-bodied” is relative, and joltiks are known in some regions to feed on the electricity from pokémon as small as yampers (Shield). Now, it isn’t immediately clear if this is painful or harmful to the host. There’s every possibility that you could safely allow your joltik to feed off of your static electricity without it being an issue, but I’m not willing to say that that is broadly without health risk. The siphoning of energy may react poorly with some health conditions, and the pokémon’s own electric energy may result in paralysis, given their move set.

Let’s say you want to find an alternative way to feed your joltik, that doesn’t require feeding on other living things’ electricity. Well, you’re in luck! Wild joltiks living in cities have adapted to absorb electricity directly from power outlets (Black)! As with the other feeding method, this comes at a cost, however: in this case financially. While joltiks are small, they are capable of storing some pretty high amounts of energy, enough to allow them to use moves like Electroweb, Thunder Wave, and Electro Ball. Using a power outlet to feed your pet would definitely increase your electricity costs. If you own more than one joltik, it could really spiral out of control if you’re not careful.

That’s the thing: caring for a joltik as a pet isn’t unreadable, as long as you’re careful. Could allowing them to feed on your electricity harm you? Maybe not, so long as you are cognizant of its effect on you. Could allowing them to feed off an outlet get too expensive? Maybe if you provide them unlimited, unrestricted access. Are these pokémon dangerous? Well, considering that joltiks can’t generate electricity on their own, the power of their Electric-Type moves is really dependent on how much energy you provide them with.

While a joltik might not be everyone’s cup of tea, a conscientious owner could easily care for one, despite the potential costs. Plus, on top of all that, I bet they’re really soft. That’s a huge bonus.

[rooshroomsims]

⚠ Dead by Daylight Legacy Challenge ☠︎︎

Dead by Daylight Legacy Challenge: Survivor Edition

General Rules:

Complete all goals for each Survivor before moving to the next generation.

You obviously don't have to name your sims after the characters or play AS the characters, these are just the themes for each gen! But you can if you'd like to!

You may move on once all goals are met, or maintain them until the next heir becomes a Young Adult.

Each heir must embody the traits and roles of their corresponding Survivor, but there’s room for interpretation.

Heirs can pursue careers or hobbies that fit their Survivor's lore or personality.

Generation 1: Sable – The Survivor

Sable is resilient, resourceful, and thrives under pressure. They are the foundation of the legacy, with a natural ability to endure tough situations.

Aesthetic Colors: Dark Gray, Forest Green Traits: Brave, Handy, Athletic, Loner Careers: Firefighter, Self-Employed Inventor, Military

Goals:

Master the Handiness and Athletic skills to represent adaptability and endurance.

Build a small, rugged home as a "safe haven," then expand it as the legacy grows.

Save at least one Sim from a fire or dangerous situation (using the Firefighter career or another rescue-related event).

Form close friendships with 3 other Sims to symbolize a Survivor's group.

Have one "trial" moment: survive a house fire, robbery, or other in-game disaster.

Generation 2: Claudette – The Botanist

Claudette is empathetic and intelligent, with a passion for healing and nature.

Aesthetic Colors: Deep Green, Yellow Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Green Thumb, Genius, Nurturing Careers: Gardener, Scientist, Self-Employed Herbalist

Goals:

Master the Gardening and Science skills.

Create a large, lush garden and rely on it for most of the household’s food.

Befriend 5 Sims and offer them "help" by improving their lives (gift plants, teach skills, etc.).

Marry a Sim who shares her passion for nature or science.

Generation 3: Dwight – The Leader

Dwight starts as an underdog but grows into a capable leader.

Aesthetic Colors: Blue, White Traits: Coward, Charismatic, Workaholic, Friendly Careers: Business, Politician, Education

Goals:

Start at the bottom of a career and rise to the top (symbolizing Dwight’s leadership growth).

Build strong relationships with coworkers or group members.

Host a gathering or party every week to maintain connections.

Help one Sim improve their life significantly (e.g., turn an enemy into a friend or boost their career).

Generation 4: Meg – The Athlete

Meg is driven, fearless, and thrives in high-pressure environments.

Aesthetic Colors: Red, Black Traits: Athletic, Brave, Hot-Headed, Daredevil Careers: Athlete, Military, Acrobat

Goals:

Master the Athletic skill and win at least 5 athletic competitions (e.g., sports games or sparring matches).

Travel to a new world (representing Meg’s running background).

Woohoo in 3 unique locations to symbolize her daring personality.

Have only one child, whom Meg raises with strict discipline and encouragement.

Generation 5: Kate – The Free Spirit

Kate is an artist with a deep love for music, nature, and life.

Aesthetic Colors: Orange, Turquoise Traits: Artistic, Virtuoso, Loves the Outdoors, Charismatic Careers: Singer, Guitarist, Painter

Goals:

Master the Guitar and Painting skills.

Perform music for tips in public spaces and build a fanbase.

Live on a large lot surrounded by nature (with minimal electronics).

Adopt a stray animal as a companion.

Generation 6: Feng – The Gamer

Feng is competitive and strategic, always planning her next move.

Aesthetic Colors: Neon Purple, Black Traits: Genius, Ambitious, Technophile, Rebellious Careers: Video Game Developer, Professional Gamer, Hacker

Goals:

Master the Logic and Video Gaming skills.

Win at least 3 gaming competitions.

Befriend a Sim from each social group (Nerd, Rebel, Jock).

Never marry, but have one child via a close friend or a one-time relationship.

Generation 7: Mikaela – The Clairvoyant

Mikaela is creative and mystical, with a deep connection to storytelling and the supernatural.

Aesthetic Colors: Teal, Lavender Traits: Supernatural Fan, Bookworm, Artistic, Good Careers: Fortune Teller, Writer, Alchemist

Goals:

Master the Writing and Alchemy skills.

Write 3 best-selling novels, with at least one in the Mystery or Fantasy genre.

Own and frequently use a crystal ball (Fortune Teller career or just for roleplay).

Befriend at least 3 Supernatural Sims (e.g., witches, fairies, or vampires).

Host a “spooky gathering” (a costume or themed party) once per generation.

Protect and support other Sims by creating and gifting elixirs.

PLEASE TAG ME IF YOU DO THIS CHALLENGE I WOULD LOVEEEE TO SEE IT! (also pls dont judge this IS a work in progress!)

[floridaboiler]

20 Unspoken Rules for Men:

1. Never shake a hand sitting down.

Standing up shows respect and engagement. It signifies that you value the person you are meeting and are fully present in the interaction.

2. Protect who is behind you, and respect who is beside you.

This emphasizes loyalty and honor. Protecting those behind you means safeguarding your family, friends, and teammates. Respecting those beside you signifies recognizing the equality and value of your peers.

3. Never insult the cooking when you are the guest.

Showing gratitude and respect for hospitality is essential. Criticizing the cooking is disrespectful and ungrateful, especially when someone has gone out of their way to host you.

4. Never eat the last piece of something you didn't buy.

This rule underscores courtesy and consideration for others. It demonstrates awareness and respect for shared resources and the contributions of others.

5. Never make the first offer in a negotiation.

Letting the other party make the first offer can provide strategic advantages. It gives you insight into their expectations and can help you negotiate better terms.

6. Don't take credit for work you didn't do.

Integrity in acknowledging others' efforts is crucial. Taking undue credit undermines trust and damages your credibility.

7. Take the blame, and give credit when due.

Owning up to mistakes and recognizing others' contributions builds respect and trust. It shows maturity and leadership.

8. If you are not invited, don't ask to go.

Respecting boundaries and invitations is key to maintaining good social etiquette. It avoids awkward situations and respects the host’s intentions.

9. Always aim for the head.

This metaphorical rule can apply to many scenarios, implying that you should strive for excellence and precision in your efforts.

10. Don't beg for a relationship.

Self-respect and dignity are important. Desperation can lead to unhealthy dynamics and undervalues your worth.

11. Dress well no matter what the occasion.

Good grooming and dressing appropriately show respect for yourself and others. It also boosts confidence and makes a positive impression.

12. Always carry cash.

Being prepared for various situations, including emergencies, is practical. It reflects foresight and responsibility.

13. Listen, nod, and most of all make eye contact.

Active listening and non-verbal engagement are crucial for effective communication. They show that you value and are attentive to the speaker.

14. Show restraint in expressing anger, no matter what. Being angry is a waste of energy.

Managing anger is vital for maintaining composure and making rational decisions. It prevents regrettable actions and fosters a more positive environment.

15. Whether it's dinner, drinks, or both, avoid placing your phone on the dinner table.

Prioritizing face-to-face interactions over digital distractions shows respect and attentiveness to those present.

16. Never pose with alcohol.

Maintaining a responsible image is important. Posing with alcohol can convey unprofessionalism or recklessness.

17. Proper grammar will get you far in life. Leave the foul language for the less educated.

Good communication skills, including proper grammar, enhance your credibility and professionalism. Avoiding foul language shows respect and maturity.

18. Ask more than you answer.

Showing interest in others by asking questions fosters better relationships and understanding. It also demonstrates humility and a willingness to learn.

19. You can tell a great deal about a person by their handshake, so make yours strong and firm.

A firm handshake conveys confidence and sincerity. It is often the first impression you make, so it’s important to get it right.

20. Speak honestly. Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Honesty builds trust and integrity. It involves being truthful and consistent, fostering deeper connections and mutual respect. Speaking honestly also means balancing truth with empathy and tact, ensuring that your words are respectful and considerate.

[hyukalyptus]

the willow tree — prince!yeonjun x servant!oc (mira)

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, chubby!reader (rarely self conscious), exes to ???, unsupportive parents, dual POV, classism, mira is described as chubby and has long wavy hair, mira often wears dresses/thongs/etc, smut, sir kink, sneakin around, pet names (darling, babe, baby, love, my girl), lots of cunnilingus/bjs/handjobs, more specific content warnings before each chapter, NSFW/MDNI!!! notes. this has taken me forever!! i know i've been talking about this for so long and i really hope you love it. the poll said to post everything at once, but i put chapter headers so you wouldn't lose your place since its so goddamn long. anyway, enjoy!! wc. 26K im so sry

cw. yeonjun is a bit of a jerk in a flashback, classism, yj is an environmental activist and if u are a climate change denier, feel free to block <3, mira (oc) is described as chubby, yeonjun sneaks into mira's room (but not in a pervy way).

YEONJUN'S POV

Open your heart to the adventure ahead. I glare back at the cheesy quote slapped across the page-a-day calendar resting on my desk Mother gifted me last Christmas. The phrases usually amount to nothing more than fortune cookie wisdom or elementary classroom poster encouragements, and today's offering is no exception.

It’s plastered in meetings and to-dos I have today. One meeting is with a new landscape architect for the garden, another with Gemma about the upcoming quarterly dinner, and another with our ambassador about an upcoming international environmental meeting I’m attending later this year. 

Philanthropy has always been a forte of mine. No matter the cause, I can persuade the richest of the rich to contribute to the cause, I host grand fundraising events, and love speaking for what I care about. My pursuits have evolved over time, ranging from childhood health to advocating for mental wellness and combating food scarcity. 

It’s been difficult to choose what I cared about most, but I simply can’t commit all of my focus to every cause, no matter how hard I try. Within the last few years, my focus has been the environment—an urgent matter demanding action, even if I’m not a major contributor to the problem. Nonetheless, I certainly have influence over large corporations that do, not to mention my political influence. I've also cultivated a deep appreciation for the arts, advocating for universal access. Last year, I facilitated the donation of $125,000 worth of instruments to local public schools.

Outside of work, I like learning new instruments and artforms—right now, pottery and piano—and reading. And I love to travel. I always fly commercial—never private. 

“Honey, be in the common room in fifteen minutes,” Mother—the Queen—says at my door. She glows as her deep ruby chiffon dress flows with her movements, exuding royal, elegance, and authority. She finishes putting in her gold earring before adding, “We have a new hire.” 

Ah, the customary introduction of new staff. I finish watering the peace lily on my window bench before heading down the hallway.

Our castle is opulent yet sophisticated and contemporary. I genuinely love the peacock-green walls, the gold trim, the myriad of photos on the walls—memories of the Queen presenting awards, snapshots from my trips, simple portraits. Despite the grandeur of it all, it’s home.

The common room is large and well-lit thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Lots of comfortable seating scatters the floor for when guests are over. A large Morisot painting hangs on the wall opposite the windows—brushstrokes full of energy and splashes of rich greens and blues. But it’s the simplicity I love about it. It’s why I bought it. 

“Good morning, Your Majesties,” Gemma states as she enters the room, fifteen staff people following behind her. Everyone does their obligatory bows and curtsies, something I never particularly liked. But I understand the purpose behind it. 

The staff stand in a straight line facing us, Gemma being the stiffest of all—she commands the room, adores perfection, and keeps everything in order. She isn’t my personal favorite staff person, but I don’t know what we’d do without her. 

They’re all wearing their boring uniforms—half are in drab grey frocks with white aprons and the other half are in drab grey suits. I’d rather they wear whatever they want.

Formal introductions like these aren’t to my taste. I like getting to know the staff on our own terms. Organically. But this is important to Gemma. It’s a sort of initiation, a welcome into the family. So I let her do what she needs to do, but I’m busy reminding myself of my to-do list.

Email Princess Everly about the upcoming benefitReschedule interview with Philanthropy DailyOutline Climate Week keynote speech

“As you know,” Gemma startles me out of my thoughts. “We’ve welcomed a new person to our team. I want everyone to give her a warm welcome.” Walking to the end of the line, she introduces her, “This is Mira.” 

Mira smiles softly with a curtsy that I’m assuming she learned to do in the kitchen moments earlier. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am,” she says, tilting her head toward Mother. “And you too, Sir.”

“Nice to—oh.” My mouth hangs open. What am I supposed to say again? Oh right, “Um…it’s nice to meet you too,” I finally murmur. That was embarrassing. 

Everything flashes across the movie screen in my mind—memories with her. The girl I fell in love with when I was a stupid teenager. The girl who stole my first kiss. The girl that was so sweet to me and treated me like any other kid because that’s all I was—a kid.

But she wasn’t just a girl to me. She was the first—only—person I was in love with. The girl I snuck out of the castle at night to go stargazing with. The girl I told all my secrets to. The girl I never thought I’d see again. How could I have forgotten her? 

Do you remember me?

Perhaps that’s all I was to her, though—a boy. Another insignificant teenage romance. Then again…how could she forget? We’d talk for hours about spending our lives together. She’d even picked out her favorite room in the castle that we’d move into together when the time came. It’s now the music room, complete with a piano among other instruments. 

We’d sit under her favorite willow tree in the garden eating red bean buns she’d brought back from the next town over when she’d visit her cousins. 

Have you forgotten? To be fair, It has been six…seven years. Wow. 

The room soon clears, except for Mira and myself. She paces around and smooths her skirt.

“Oh!” Mira gasps. “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone had left,” she says with an awkward curtsy. Simply shaking my head, I stay put. “...Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

“Nope…uh, no,” I start, fiddling with the edge of one of the couches before finally speaking up again. “Where are you from?” I’m testing the waters. Trying to see if she remembers me without coming straight out and asking. Honestly, I do this with all our staff: ask where they’re from, get to know them a bit. I don’t like having robots I know nothing about doing everything for me. 

“I’m originally from the next town over.”

Hm. Am I wrong? Maybe she simply looks a lot like my Mira. And has the same name. And the same gorgeous brown eyes. Perhaps I shouldn’t refer to her as my Mira anymore. 

“I’ve lived here since I was a kid though,” she adds. Ah, okay. That seems like something I should’ve known. Nodding, I open my mouth to say something else, but Mother calls me from a distance.

“Yep.” I stand up straight as a pin, turning to exit the room. “Be right there.” 

-

Rummaging through my drawers, I finally find it. The necklace I’d bought Mira all those years ago—a delicate circle pendant with an “M” stamped in the middle hanging from a delicate gold chain. She wore it everyday for six months. I can’t remember how I ended up with it, though. 

So, she’s real. At least that’s true. What should I do with it? I pace up and down the hallways clutching it, brainstorming about what to do with it. Perhaps I should simply walk up to her and ask her about it. Should I wrap it for her and give it to her as a present? Should I give it to Gemma to return to her?

“Oh, Gemma, I’m sorry,” I say, apologizing for almost bumping into her. 

“Not a problem, sir.” She curtsies and begins to walk away, but—

“Gemma?” She turns, holding her hands behind her back, awaiting my instruction. “Can you tell me where the new hire stays? I want to make sure I’ve got everyone’s rooms in order in my head.”

“Mira?” I nod. “She lives in room number six, sir.”

“Thank you.” I smile, but she simply waits. Ah— “Dismissed.” 

As I nonchalantly make my way to the staff wing, I keep an eye out for anyone who might be watching. Not that anyone would question me, but I don’t like people in my business. I eventually find her room in the same hallway as everyone else’s—a basic wooden door painted white with a brass “6” nailed to it—I hesitate before knocking softly. No response. I try again, slightly louder. Still nothing. On the third attempt, I test the door handle and find it unlocked. I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m just gonna get in, put the necklace somewhere, then get out. I won’t bother any of her stuff. 

But her room is so sweet. Plain and organized since she just moved in. A single photograph of her and her parents with who I’m assuming is her grandmother rests on the dresser. The bed’s made neatly. There’s a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. 

Ah, the bedside table drawer. That should be a good spot, but I find things that are way too personal in there and decide against it, respecting her privacy despite the fact that I’m breaking and entering. 

Hm…where to put it? Sock drawer? The windowsill catches my eye—a perfect blend of visibility and subtlety. I approach it, careful not to disturb anything, and hang the necklace on the window latch. It’s hiding in plain sight but still easy to find and doesn’t show that I rummaged through her drawers, which is a plus.

Now, we wait. 

-

A week passes. Radio silence. I haven’t gone back to her room to see if it's still hanging on her window, but I haven’t seen it around her neck either. Perhaps she threw it away and I should give up. 

Trudging through my bedroom door, I loosen my tie and toss my phone and wallet onto my bed. I attempt to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, but I’m exhausted. Thankfully, my dinner is already waiting for me on my dresser under a cloche. 

Next to my plate is a glass of ice water dripping in condensation along with a napkin and a set of cutlery. And resting right next to my fork is Mira’s necklace. The sight of it sends a jolt through my system. I knew she came into my room somewhat regularly—all the staff do—but thinking about her in my room makes me tingle. 

I sink onto the edge of my bed with a sigh as the chain slips through my fingers. When I first gave it to her seven years ago, her eyes lit up and her smile made everything feel right. I knew we were supposed to be together. That all seems so distant now.

Why didn’t she simply get rid of it? 

Maybe she hasn’t given up entirely and neither should I. 

It goes back and forth between us for a few weeks. After I found it on my dresser, I slipped it into her apron pocket. Then I found it between the pages of my notebook. The day after I wrapped it around the sugar bowl’s lid handle, it appeared wrapped around the handlebar of my bike. 

We never spoke a word of it. 

Every time I found it, it made me smile, but I knew this couldn't continue forever. I need to see her, to talk to her, to find out what was really going on. Does she want to talk to me? Does she hate me? Does she even remember me?

The next morning, I slip a note under her door. 

Meet me under the willow tree at 8. - Y

Every minute of the day feels like an eternity as I wait for evening to arrive. Doubt gnaws at me, but the thought of seeing and speaking to Mira keeps me sane. 

The evening air is cool and crisp. The sun has dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep blue. Waiting under the willow tree, I think about the many times Mira and I have sat under here and talked for hours, watching the stars as the branches swayed in the wind. We’d talk about our days, places we wanted to visit together, how I wanted to tell everyone about us but she was too hesitant. 

Minutes start to feel like hours as I wait, the silence around me amplifying my racing thoughts. What if she never comes? What if she didn’t get the note? What if she’s avoiding me? Does she hate me?

Finally, soft footsteps approach and I turn to see Mira, her silhouette framed by the dim garden lights. She walks slowly, like she’s dragging it out as long as possible. As she comes up to me, her eyes search mine. My heart races, there’s a lump in my throat. 

"Mira," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. She curtsies. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s my job, Sir,” she says flatly. Rocking back on my heels, I press my lips together. 

"I thought I’d return this straight to you,” I say, holding up the necklace. “It seems like it keeps getting lost.” I chuckle nervously, trying to break the tension.

“Thanks,” she replies flatly as she accepts the necklace. Oh my god, she’s gorgeous. I thought I’d memorized every detail about her, but seeing her now under the lamppost, it’s like I’m rediscovering her all over again. She’s beautifully chubby and always has been. Her long, dark brunette hair has a tint of red that makes it look like cinnamon. The wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants paired with an old pair of flip flops tells me she either forgot about our meeting and got dressed in a hurry or wants to get this over with. Or perhaps both. 

“What can I help you with, Sir?” Awkward silence. 

“Mira,” I whisper, her name a fragile plea on my lips. She stares at the ground, avoiding my eyes. What was she expecting? For me to never bring us up? Of course I’d talk to her about it. “Mira Ashenrose, right?” She hums quietly. “I realized I never asked your last name since you started working here.” 

The silence between us is thick with tension. Memories flood my mind and I hope the same is happening to her. The last time we were here, we laid with each other for hours, so long that the sun started rising. She fit so perfectly in my arms. 

“I can’t forget you, Mira,” I say, stepping closer. “Why are you avoiding…us?” The space between us is charged as electricity swirls around us. “Remember us? All those nights we went stargazing? Our picnics? Those daisy chains you made me? You can’t tell me you don’t—”

“Of course I remember,” she interrupts, tears glistening in her eyes. My heart aches at the sight. “I remember everything, Yeonjun.” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “I remember falling asleep under this willow tree with you. I remember dancing with you. I remember kissing you before sneaking back into my house. I remember everything, okay?” Her voice trembles. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.” 

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

She looks utterly heartbroken. “Don’t do this to me, Yeonjun. Stop being cruel.”

Her words punch me in the gut and everything comes rushing back. The reason we ended. I’d asked her to our annual ball—our first public appearance together. The Queen would find out. My royal friends would find out. The whole country would find out. She was a wreck for weeks leading up to it, but I reassured her every chance I got that it would be okay. 

She was—and still is—smart, incredibly beautiful, but most of all, I loved her. Why should anyone care if she wasn’t a royal as long as I was in love with her? That should’ve been enough. 

"Yeonjun, darling," my mother's voice sliced through the delicate hum of the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Princess Penelope. She's your esteemed companion for the evening." Always so professional. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a strained greeting to Penelope before turning to face my mother.  "May I have a word with you in private?"

Graciously excusing herself, she left me to confront my mother amidst the grandeur of the ballroom. "Why would you do this? I told you I didn’t want to be set up.”

"I understand, Yeonjun," my mother replied with a tight-lipped smile. "But it's time you started considering your future—"

"My future?" I scoffed. "I'm eighteen."

"Exactly," she countered, her tone firm. "You need to think about a suitable partner. Someone who embodies the qualities of a Queen—dignity, wisdom, influence. And most importantly: royal,” she pointed a finger at me. “I won’t be around forever, darling.”

“Do they really need to be royal?”

My mother's smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

I swallowed what I really needed to say. There’s no way I’d win an argument anyway. With a resigned nod, I returned to Princess Penelope, the weight of my mother's expectations—and I suppose my entire country’s—heavy on my shoulders. So heavy I’d forgotten—

“Mira,” I said under my breath. There she was, staring at me in disbelief as I danced with Princess Penelope. Ignoring the questioning from Penelope, I abandoned her mid-step and made a beeline for Mira, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and urgency. "Mira, wait!" I called out, desperation lacing my voice as I chased after her out of the ballroom and into the moonlit courtyard.

"Why, Yeonjun?" Mira's voice cracked as she finally turned to face me, tears staining her cheeks. "Why would you do this?"

"I had no choice," I confessed, my mother’s expectations running circles in my mind. “My mother made me.” 

"You could've told me," Mira interjected, her voice trembling.

"When?" I demanded, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I only found out thirty minutes ago—"

"You could've texted me.”

"I can't risk—"

"What, people finding out about us?" Mira's voice rose with each word, her anguish palpable in the cool night air. “Are you ever going to tell The Queen about us?” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, my eyes twist shut. “Well?” 

Looking at her—possibly for the last time—she looked absolutely beautiful. Her gown was perfect. Soft lavender satin that caught the light as it cascaded down the skirt, a glimmer of fuschia reflecting in the light. I wanted nothing but to hug her, to feel the satin on my fingertips. The sweetheart neckline was gorgeous on her, accentuating her frame perfectly. The M necklace rested around her neck. Her hair was absolutely perfect—she’d been trying out styles for weeks and the final choice was supposed to be a surprise.

“Answer me, Yeonjun.”

I couldn’t do that anymore. Mother meant what she said to me earlier that night: they must be royal. “Just go home,” I said, turning to leave her there alone. Breaking her heart was the best thing to do in the moment. If I could never truly be with her, breaking it off right then and there was the easiest thing for both of us. 

“What? Why—”

“What do you expect, Mira? You’re not royalty. You’re nothing,” I said. “Now go home.”

Too stunned to speak, I stare at her in disbelief. How could I have been so evil to her? What was I thinking? Why did I forget that? Must’ve blocked it from my memory. And now that I’m older, I’d never let some stupid outdated rule like that stand in our way. 

“I’m so—”

“Save it,” she says flatly. “I should’ve thrown away the necklace the first time I found it.” Straightening her posture, she wipes the final tear rolling down her cheek, shaking her head to rid of the emotions. “Let’s pretend this whole thing never happened, yeah?” 

Fine. If someone did that to me, if someone told me I was nothing after telling them they were in love with me for six months, I’d probably feel the same way, if I’m honest. 

As I accept my fate, I turn to walk away, but halt in my footsteps. “No,” I start. “I don’t want to forget this—that we ever happened.” She stays standing there, arms crossed, trying to control her breathing. But I hover over her, waiting for a response. “Please. I miss—”

“Don’t.” She snaps, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about starting that bullshit with me…Sir.”

“I told you, Mother set me up with her.”

“I don’t care about that. You told me I was nothing.” Speechless again, I can’t move. “You never even tried to contact me again and you expect me to give you a second chance?”

“That was seven years ago.”

“So?”

“I’m…we’re both so different. I used to be a stupid teenager. I would never— Please—”

“Please, what? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t—” Honestly, I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off, but I don’t know if that’s possible at this point. I hadn’t felt lonely until she showed up, drowning in my endless to do lists, barely ever hanging out with anyone that wasn’t on my staff or another royal. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe think about that first.”

cw. eating food. 

MIRA'S POV

On my days off, I hide away in a gazebo in a quiet part of the garden and sketch. It’s a nice place to escape to, away from everyone while staying close to home. Home. It’s still hard to believe this castle is my home, even if I am just a servant. 

The gazebo sits against a stone wall on one side—one of those that looks so old you wonder how it's still standing, withered with moss growing between the stones, vines going up and around it. The bench theoretically offers lots of seating, but most of it is covered in pots, plants, and gardening supplies. It’s more storage than an intended place to rest. 

My spot was bare when I found it and it gives me a full view of the grounds. To the right, our village is on full display—colorful, quaint, and inviting. To the left, a thick forest stands tall, leaves rustling with the wind.

Someone’s foot crunches the gravel as they walk toward me and my little corner, but I don’t react. As long as I stay relatively still and quiet, no one bothers me. I continue my sketch of those cute squirrels running around together under the willow tree I’ve always loved. Although it’s left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth recently. 

But the presence of a person looms behind me. Can’t I have one quiet day to myself? Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. They’ll leave eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“...Mira?” A familiar voice says, slow and undeniably warm. 

“Oh.” I stand up straight, giving my obligatory curtsy Gemma has ingrained in me since day one. 

“I told you not to do that,” Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun—says. He’s dressed casually today, cute even. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that. A simple maroon cashmere sweater that fits perfectly with his dark wash jeans that barely gather at his ankles, exposing his black vans. A short necklace of black beads sits around his neck. One of those outfits you’d see him wearing in a magazine with a caption like, ‘Royals – they’re just like us!’ 

“And I told you, it’s my job,” I say, returning to my seat, continuing my drawing. 

“Not right now though,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s your day off, right?”

“You have my schedule memorized?” 

“No,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his shiny, black hair that I can practically feel on my fingertips. “Why else would you be hiding in my corner?”

“I figured you followed me—your corner?” 

“I wasn’t following you,” he says, walking closer before rocking back on his heels as he stops. “I read here sometimes.” He holds up a book. “You thought this spot just happened to be clear on its own?” I hum, scooting over and patting the bench next me. “You’re really okay with me here? I don’t want to bother you,” he says, as genuine as one can sound. But I’m still surprised. Sure, he’s not the demanding type, but I don’t know if I’d act the same if I were royalty. 

“To be fair, I was here first,” I say smugly. Although, he is still my boss. It doesn’t matter that we know each other from that past. I add a quick, “...Sir.” for good measure. “Go ahead and sit.”

“Don’t you hate me?” He asks and I chuckle, but when I look up, I see he’s serious. 

“No, I don’t hate you,” I say. “I’ve moved on, Yeonjun.”

Shrugging, he sits near me, opening his book. I tried to get a peek at the title, but I never got the chance without being too obvious. As he sits next to me, I must admit his presence adds a peaceful comfort to what would typically be a relatively silent, if not boring, morning. There’s even a sort of completeness. Birds seem to be chirping more harmoniously. The clouds have disappeared. Oh, what am I saying? That’s ridiculous. That’s a coincidence, Mira. 

“You still draw?” He perks up, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Of course,” I answer immediately. 

“What are you working on?” Straightening on the bench, I riffle through some papers quickly, trying to hide any potentially embarrassing sketches I don’t want him to see. 

“Just sketches.”

He nods, curiosity etched on his face. “Can I see?” 

“Uh,” I clear my throat. “Sure,” I say, sitting one of my feet on the ground, turning toward him. Our knees brush each other for a moment, but I quickly move it out of his way. Smiling, he examines my drawing of my favorite willow tree I finished yesterday before bed. My cheeks flush as I remember why it was on my mind while drawing, but I hope he doesn’t draw that conclusion. 

“Ah, you’ve gotten so much better.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I chuckle. 

“I just mean,” he looks at me, eyebrows raised in defense. “I can tell you’ve been working on it, I dunno. How else would I say that?”

“That’s fine,” I say. Awkwardness fills the air as I shift my weight around. 

“I’ve been doing pottery, you know.”

I do know. But I’m not supposed to be listening in on their conversations at dinner. I can’t help I’m nosy. I simply ask, “Really?” Humming, he pulls out his phone. 

“This one just came out of the kiln.” He hands me his phone—I wonder what world secrets are on Prince Yeonjun’s phone—to show me a beautifully hand thrown vase. The body is smooth and cylindrical with a slightly tapered neck that gracefully flares out at the top. White glaze covers the surface, contrasting with the thick organic strokes of black glaze. Small, oval handles are attached on both sides. “I just learned how to do handles.” 

“Oh my gosh, Yeonjun…” My breath is taken away. I had no idea he was such an incredible artist. It looks like it was plucked straight out of a museum. “It’s gorgeous.” He always was one to do things perfectly—an all-or-nothing kinda guy. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Show off,” I say, lightly nudging his arm with my elbow.  

An hour or so passes and I’ve switched sitting positions several times, eventually landing on a classic leaned-back-against-the-wall position with my feet up on the bench so I can use my knees and thighs as a desk. He’s barely moved an inch though, sitting happily with his back pressed against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, reading. 

I barely notice my toes absent-mindedly tucking themselves under his thigh like I used to do when we were—

“Oh!” A servant that I haven’t learned the name of yet stumbles in on us, carrying a tray full of food. “I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay,” Yeonjun says, but I’m doing everything I can to hide my face. This can’t get back to the other servants. They’re all such gossips, which I guiltily love, but that doesn’t mean I want them gossiping about me. “Come on over, Natalie.”

“I swear I didn’t tell her about your spot, Sir,” Natalie says nervously.

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay,” he offers a gentle smile, reaching out for the tray, dismissing her after she curtsies, scurrying off quickly. “Don’t worry,” Yeonjun says to me. “She keeps all my secrets—she’s the only one that knows I come out here. She won’t say anything about,” he trails off, gesturing his hand between us.

“There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Alright,” he sighs. “You hungry?”

“No.” My stomach growls at the worst possible moment. 

“I kinda feel like you are.” I ignore him, focusing on my drawing. “I asked her to bring another meal. You can have it if you want.” 

Peeking over my sketchbook, the tray is fully decked out in sandwiches that look absolutely delicious; sides of mac and cheese and fruits, complete with two glasses of water and a little flower.

“I suppose I’m pretty hungry.” My stomach growls again at the sight of it. “Oh, ignore that; she’s been fussy all day.” I scooch closer to him hesitantly accepting the offer. 

“Mira,” Yeonjun starts. I hum, reaching for a pineapple slice. “Why are all the staff afraid of me?”

“Huh?” I look up at him.

“You saw how nervous Natalie was just thinking I might be mad at her.”

“I think you forget you’re a literal prince,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Are you scared of me?”

Hm. That’s an interesting question. No, of course I’m not scared of you. Why would I be? But perhaps the real answer is Yes, but in the way that everyone makes fun of when people say it out loud. Honestly, I am afraid. Afraid of falling for him again. Getting my heart broken again. We’ve barely talked since I started working here, but I know how convincing he can be. If I’m not careful, he’ll have me wrapped around his finger by next week. 

And let’s not forget he told me I was nothing. That kind of thing doesn’t simply go away. 

I wonder if he’s ever said something like that to one of the servants. Does he think all non-royalty are nothing? No, he wouldn’t be like that anymore. But how would I really know?

Shrugging, I finally say, “No.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

I roll my eyes, “I don’t know, Jjun—” I catch myself as that dumb nickname comes out of my stupid fucking mouth. What’s wrong with me? He looks at me with wide eyes. “Uh, Yeonjun…Sir.” Let’s just pretend like nothing happened. “You said some hurtful stuff to me. Have you said anything like that to one of them?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You could ask a servant if they’re scared of you.”

“I just did,” he points out. Right. I’m…a servant. I keep forgetting that bit when we’re alone. When we’re alone, it's like we’re friends. It’s casual and comfortable. See? What did I tell you? A few hours of silence followed by a few minutes of talking and I’m right back to where I was seven years ago. Stop being so pathetic. 

“Ah.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I chuckle. “You’re right. But maybe ask a servant that seems like they’re scared of you. They’re probably scared of Gemma more than anything.”

As we wrap up our lunch, his phone buzzes—a calendar reminder probably. 

"I have to get going," he announces, moving efficiently to gather the remnants of our meal onto the tray. But as he stands to leave, an inexplicable urge pulls at me, begging him to stay. Please don’t do this, Mira. Don’t be stupid. 

With a gentle smile, he suggests, "I'll talk to you later?" It's then that I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence for the past who knows how long. "Oh, you have a leaf in your hair." I attempt to remove it myself, but without a mirror, it’s proving to be difficult. "Here," he offers, leaning down. My mind screams at me to resist, but his closeness sends a rush of warmth through my body. With gentle precision, he plucks the leaf away, discarding it casually.

Yet, instead of stepping away, he stays close. I pretend not to notice the magnetic pull between us. Stop it. Admit it. You want him to stay. Straightening my posture, we’re almost leaning into each other, like we’re about to—no. Our gazes dart between each other's lips, ghosts of his touch haunting my senses. Does he still taste the same?

The cool breeze snaps me back to reality. What were you thinking? "Thanks," I mumble, retreating to reestablish a distinct boundary.

"No worries," he replies. The fading sound of his footsteps on gravel leaves me facepalming.

How can I be this close to him without seeing him? Without falling for him again? There’s only one thing to do. 

Avoid him at all costs.

cw. sexual tension, suggestive.  

MIRA'S POV

“Didn’t you finish Mother’s painting in two weeks?” Prince Yeonjun asks, leaning against the doorframe to the sunroom. It’s become my makeshift painting studio. Once the Queen found out I sometimes do art, she thought it’d be a good idea to commission me for new portraits to replace the old ones in the Great Hall. I like painting and I need the money so I of course said yes. 

“Mm-hmm,” I nod, finishing up the final touches on the pattern of his royal cloak. “I’ve been busier recently,” I lie. In the painting, he sits with an arm resting atop a piano against a backdrop of rich velvet curtains like the ones in the living room. The intricate details of his uniform are perfect if I do say so myself. His face, though, is a grey blob with a basic sketch. I work off photographs for the most part, but for faces, I like them sitting right in front of me to get every detail.

But him sitting a foot away from me while I carefully analyze every detail of his face for hours does not sound like a good idea right now. Even if it does sound appealing. 

“You almost ready for me?” 

I should get it over with, but my hands are tired and I have a lot of tasks for my actual job to do before the end of the day.

“Tomorrow,” I say, walking my paintbrushes to the sink. “Does that work for you?” He’s quiet, so I look over my shoulder to make sure he heard me. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Y-yeah,” he says. “That should work.”

“Okay.” I wipe my paintbrushes with a towel. “Meet here after lunch?” Smiling gently, he nods. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to my real job. See you tomorrow,” I say with a curtsy. 

Tomorrow comes way too fast. I brush my teeth, floss, use mouthwash, and chew some gum to get rid of any trace of my lunch. Dragging my feet down the hallway, I can’t get there slow enough. 

“Ah, Mira,” he says with a smile that warms me from the inside out. I respond with a simple hello, but I’m already burning up as I gather my brushes and paints while he watches me in silence. I realize I’d forgotten to curtsy, but I decide to omit it this time considering he hates it so much. 

“The Queen sat on this stool when I painted her,” I say, moving the stool into place. “You might need to adjust the height.” While he does that, I mix a base for his skin. Starting by mixing the primary colors to get a deep brown, I add a good amount of white to lighten it up then a good amount of yellow and a touch of red for warmth. “Sit still,” I giggle, holding my palette knife next to his cheek. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing while I add more brown to darken it a bit. Clasping my hands together, I say, “Alright, I’ll be painting for at least two hours, so do anything else you need to do.” 

“I’m good.” 

Shrugging, I adjust my easel so he’s in my sightline but not too close.

Two minutes into painting, he asks, “So how’s your day been?”

“Good. You?” 

“Good,” he responds. I truly don’t mind silence between us two, but I must admit this silence is deafening. “Do you work in silence or can you talk?”

I giggle and say, “I can talk. Or you can play music if you want.” 

“How about both?” I nod. “Alexa, play classical music to focus,” he pauses, waiting for it to respond and start playing. “Tell me what you’re working on.”

“Well,” I start, swishing my brush into some clean water. “I’d already had a basic sketch of your face, but I made some skin tones first. A base, a highlight, and a shadow,” I say, showing him my palette. “Then I’ll go in and fine tune everything.” 

Time passes by—I’ve honestly always liked simply existing near him. We used to do this all the time back when we were dating. Sit near each other and just be. Quietly. Like the other day in the garden when I was drawing and he was reading. It’s peaceful. I can focus. 

It smells like that day in here—soil and paint. Whoever keeps up with these plants is great at their job. They’re gorgeous even in the winter.

“Now I’m working on your eyes,” I say matter-of-factly. Part of me starts with his eyes to get it over with and avoid them as soon as I can, but the other part counts myself lucky that I have reason to stare at them for the next thirty minutes or so. I mix a deep, cool brown and dip my pinkie into it to hold it up next to his eye. “I’m, um,” I glance down. “I’m gonna touch your face.” My pinkie rests on the apple of his cheek so I can get as close as I can to his eye without touching it. “Open your eyes.” 

Damn. Those eyes are like mirrors reflecting my deepest emotions. The world around us fades. I almost drop my palette. Glimpses of our history, our laughter, tears, and dreams we’ve shared together swirl around in them. They take my breath away. 

Realizing we’re staring at each other, I snap out of it, jerking my hand away from him and dive into painting them instead of gazing into them. 

“First try?” I hum in question. “You got the color of my eyes right on the first try?” My ears warm up.

“Well, you know…” I say, my head hanging low. “They’re the same as the Queen’s.” Lie. The Queen’s are much warmer. Hues of deep mahogany and amber; they’re vibrant with hints of gold and copper that catch the light. They glow in the sun. His, on the other hand, are intensely dark. Deep and rich like shadowy moonlight. You could get lost in them like a maze at night. They’re like reading a book by candlelight. They’re gorgeous. 

“Why do I need to be here again?” He asks and I look jokingly offended. “I mean, you worked off photos up until now.”

“So I can get the details of your face I might otherwise miss,” I say, closely examining his face. “Like this freckle,” I say, poking the freckle on his right cheek with the end of my paintbrush that I would never miss in a million years. It’s one of my favorites. “Or this little birthmark.” He’s got the slightest purple splotch on his cheek that again, I’d never miss. 

“You’re painting those?”

“Of course,” I say. “They’re part of you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him grazing his fingertips over his cheek, smiling to himself. “Move closer.” Examining his features even closer, I’m a few inches from his face. I, again, realize I’m staring at his face and my heartbeat quickens. I snap back and say, “Um…sorry.”

“You’re okay.”

But this keeps happening. I keep getting close to him, our hearts beating together as our breath gets sharp. And fuck, I miss him. I can’t help but think about if I were doing this for fun, not as a staff person. I used to draw him all the time. 

And now, here he is, grown up, mature, tall, and utterly handsome as I’m forced to paint a larger-than-life portrait of the guy I used to love and thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. I was such a stupid eighteen-year-old. 

He doesn’t stop staring at me. Not when I add details to his nose. Not when I clean my brush. Not when I observe my painting from a distance. I catch his glare. 

“Can you stop staring at me like that?” I ask, a smile teasing my lips. 

“Like what?”

“Like…” I cock my head to the side. 

“Like you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” Ah, fuck you. The warmth that rushes through my body is overwhelming and I swear my knees are ready to buckle. My hands tremble as I fight the urge to drop everything. “I don’t think I can stop that, Mira,” he adds softly. 

“You can’t say shit like that to me, Yeonjun,” I manage to say, my smile stubbornly betraying my attempt to stay cool. I keep my eyes on the brush, pretending I’m not seconds away from screaming. 

“Why not?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

“Because…” I finally look over at him, incredibly close to me, eyes flitting all over my face, indiscreetly hovering on my lips. Admittedly, my eyes do the same: land on his lips and suddenly the only thing I’m thinking about is kissing him. “Because…” I repeat, trying to get me to do literally anything but kiss him in this moment, but we both know that’s the only thing either of us want. Each other. To be together. 

I try to remember what his lips feel like. Strong and passionate. At least they used to be. 

How have they changed now that he’s older and has most likely gone through a few serious partners and several hook-ups? Are they softer and more loving now that he’s not a dumb ego-ridden eighteen-year-old? Are they even stronger now that he’s found himself and has solidified his position as a Prince? I wonder. No. Don’t do this. Oh, but why not? 

In one ear, the wise and cautious version of me begs me to refrain from kissing him. Don’t do this, Mira. Remember how heartbroken you were. Mixing romance with your boss is a terrible idea. 

The more rebellious, lust-ridden version of me counters, Look how much hotter he’s gotten. Just make out with him. The Queen is your boss, not him. You could always make out with him, maybe even fuck him, and pretend like nothing happened. 

Wise Mira gasps, That’s mean! 

Right, Lustful Mira says. But he was mean to her. 

Listen to me, Wise Mira chirps up. Don’t kiss him at all. 

Lustful Mira chimes in again, But Mira…look how absolutely delicious his lips look. You want him. He clearly wants you. Don’t you wanna—

“Because I said so.”

He chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

cw. brief mentions of alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, mira briefly feels self conscious about her body and pubic hair, mira lies to a stranger, begging, yj sneaks into a room she's in, sir kink. 

MIRA'S POV

"What are you wearing friday?" Hyomin casually asks, a knowing smirk on her lips as she effortlessly dusts the coffee table while I clean the windows—the newbie’s job. 

"Aren't we supposed to wear our uniforms?"

"Oh no, darling! The quarterly dinners are the sacred day we break free from the uniform chains—as long as it’s formal." Hyomin is one of few servants I genuinely like. Most of the others are constantly trying to play the game to move up the ladder—none of them really want to be friends. 

The ones that aren’t too busy playing the game are too on edge, following each rule to the letter. 

Yeonjun—Prince Yeonjun, I correct myself for the millionth time—unexpectedly knocks on the door. I, Hyomin, and Natalie perform our obligatory curtsies, even though I know he hates it. If we don’t though, Gemma fusses at us, which he also knows, so he plays along.

"Excuse me," he says, clearing his throat. "Could I trouble someone for a refill on my coffee?"

Natalie, always willing to volunteer, seizes the opportunity and responds quickly. "Certainly, Sir." She breezes by the coffee table to scoop up the metal coffee pot resting on it, returning to the Prince to pour him a fresh mug. 

Our eyes catch each other, a small yet obnoxiously noticeable smile appears on both our faces. Hyomin nudges my arm and mumbles, "And you've gotta wear something extra special for him, right?" What? My eyes widen, shock and annoyance evident in my expression. Shooting a piercing glare at her, I’m rendered momentarily speechless. Hyomin persists, her voice low, "Oh, don't act all innocent. I've seen how you two look at each other.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

A mischievous smile plays on her lips, "It's adorable, really. The blushing, the hair-tucking when he says hello, the clumsy encounters,” she says, tilting her head toward him. “Look how red his ears are.” I must admit, they are pretty pink. “We all talk about it, you know.”

“Did Natalie say something?”

“No,” she says confused, but her look soon turns suspicious. “Why would she?” Damn it. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I avoid eye contact, hoping she’ll give up, but I doubt she ever will. “Mira, why would Natalie say something?”

“No idea.” 

She hums knowingly. "Yeah, right. You two are so obviously dating, it’s ridiculous,” she says, folding the decorative blanket that hangs on the back of the couch while he leaves the room. “We're all waiting for the announcement."

“We are not dating.”

Persistent as ever, Hyomin challenges again, "Look me in the eye right now and swear you haven’t at least kissed him."

I stand tall, smoothing the skirt of my uniform, then take a deep breath and lock eyes with her. “I swear I haven’t kissed him.”

Hyomin narrows her gaze, searching for any crack in my expression. My stomach churns, and before I can stop it, the words spill out in an unfiltered confession.

“…in seven years.”

Damn it. How did she get that out of me?

“What?”

“Shh—!”

“But wh-what do you mean?” She giggles, eager to hear what I’m assuming is the best gossip in years. Although, with royals, there has to have been something juicier than a teenage romance, right?

Motioning for secrecy, I say, “Promise you won’t say anything to the other servants. Please.” Hyomin nods, an expression that practically screams, Spill it. “We knew each other when we were teenagers. We dated then, okay? We broke up seven years ago. I’ve barely spoken to him since.” 

“Oh. My. God. Oh my god, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”

“Calm down.” I hold my hands up. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? It’s a huge deal,” she exclaims. “Y’all are totally still into each other.” 

“I mean, he’s cute,” I say. “But that ship has sailed.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” I nod. “We’re just too different.”

“I dunno, I think—”

“Nope.”

“I just mean—”

“Drop it, Hyomin. It will never happen.” My words carry a finality to the discussion.

“Fine,” she concedes, folding her dust rag to place on the table. “The question still stands—what are you wearing Friday?”

Shrugging, I shake my head, “I don’t have anything formal.”

“A perfect excuse for a shopping trip—let’s go into town tomorrow,” she suggests. “I’ll get someone to cover for us for the lunch service.” 

-

“Ah, look at you!” Hyomin cheers. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got this dressed up.” Actually, I do. That night. The night he broke my heart. But I’m not thinking about that right now. In fact, I won’t be thinking about Yeonjun at all tonight. 

Walking down the stairs into the royal hall, the silk of my dress rustles gently as it shimmers in the light. It’s a gorgeous deep viridian that cascades to the floor, creating an ethereal effect with every move I make. The bodice is fitted perfectly, with boning that snatches my waist and makes my tits look amazing. The off-the-shoulder straps elegantly drape across my arms. To complete the look, I’m wearing gold dangle earrings and my hair is styled in loose waves that cascade down one of my shoulders. Around my neck is a delicate circle pendant with a moon stamped into it. 

It’s simply beautiful in here. I’d helped set it up this morning, but seeing the guests dressed up, hearing the musicians playing, the grandeur of it all—it takes my breath away. The air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation with an occasional loud laugh. 

One couple glides along the dancefloor in each other’s arms, both of their dresses flowing gracefully across the dancefloor. A group of young people wearing crowns and tiaras clink their glasses near the champagne tower. Someone else checks their jacket at the front door. 

Deep emerald velvet curtains drape along the walls, adding even more drama. Every detail of the Hall has been meticulously curated to evoke a sense of luxury. 

“Excuse me,” someone says as they brush my shoulder. “Oh.” It’s Yeon—Prince Yeonjun. “Hello.” I nod to him before my obligatory curtsy. Not even trying to hide the fact that he looks me up and down, he makes my cheeks burn. “You look…” He clears his throat. “Um, really pretty.” Well, there goes me not thinking about him at all tonight. How could I put him out of my mind when he looks like this? Positively sexy as hell in his prince uniform. So regal, rich, and powerful. 

“Thank you, Sir,” I say. I catch Hyomin out of the corner of my eye looking stiff as a board with her mouth hanging open. 

Extending his arm out, he asks me, “Care to dance?”

God, I’d fucking love to. How did he do this to me so quickly? We have one nice conversation, maybe a few glances in the hallway and suddenly he’s making my heart race like he did when we were dating. “I don’t think it would look very good for either of us if you were dancing with one of your servants.” Is that even true? I don’t know. 

He nods, pressing his lips together. “I’ll see you later then?”

“When?” I ask as he raises an eyebrow. I hope I didn’t sound too desperate. “I just mean, I don’t know why we would see each other.”

“Right,” he says. “Well, have a good evening.” He nods gently at me and then to Hyomin before walking away. 

Turning to Hyomin, she looks at me with a wide smile and knowing glare. She’s such a smug bitch. “Oh my god,” she gasps under her breath, drawing the edge of her wine glass to her lips. “Look at Prince Sipho over there.” Tilting her head to the side, she adds, “He may be even dreamier than Yeonjun.”

I scoff in my head, but I’d never tell anyone that. Instead, I murmur, “Where?”

“Right over there,” she smirks, tipping her head toward a literal tall, dark, and handsome man. Commanding the room with his height, he undeniably catches my gaze—not an eye contact that stops time in its tracks, but one where we can’t take our eyes off each other. 

Prince Sipho pushes his way through the crowd toward me, but I can’t help but wonder where Yeonjun is. Actually, why do I care at all? Shaking the thought out of my mind, I welcome this new prince’s hand reaching for my own as he delicately touches my knuckles with the poutiest part of his lips. I suppose he’s too much of a gentleman to fully press them to my skin. 

“May I have this dance?” He asks, looking up at me through his eye lashes. So formal. Quickly glancing at Hyomin, she gives me an eager nod. I guess the servants will have something to gossip about later. At least that’ll replace the conversations about me and Yeonjun. 

“Yes, you may,” I say, returning the formality. We do all the obligatory dancing things—hand on my waist, mine around his neck, holding each other’s free hands. Slowly stepping with the classy romantic music of the string quintet, he admittedly looks stunning in his formal wear—baby blue with gold trim. The baby blue brings out the radiant sapphire undertones of his deep brown skin, the gold showcasing the warmth of his amber irises. 

“So,” he starts, his voice deep and rumbling. “Who am I dancing with?” 

Without any hesitation, I lie, “Charlotte.”

“Well, Charlotte,” he says. “You’re on Prince Yeonjun’s staff?” I blink up at him with confusion etched on my face. How did he— “The rose?” He asks, tilting his head toward my chest where a delicate ivory rose is pinned to my dress to differentiate us from the guests in case someone needs something from us. 

“Ah,” I giggle. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Where is he anyway? No. I’m not dancing with Prince Sipho to make Yeonjun jealous—I’m dancing with him because he’s hot, seems sweet, and seems to think I’m hot too. Why would he be watching anyway? This is his party. He’s probably busy schmoozing with some high-stakes donors or some other royals. 

Prince Sipho’s hand glides down to the spot right above my ass—he’s really testing the boundaries, huh? I love it. But guilt twinges my heart. Half of me hopes he isn’t watching this and the other half hopes he is. I don’t know which is worse. 

A loud crash brings the room to a halt and I try to locate where the accident is, but Hyomin waves me over. “Damn it,” I murmur. “I’ve gotta go…clean that up. Excuse me.”

After rushing to clean up the broken glass, I return the broom to the closet that’s three times the size of my bedroom. I take my time putting it back—a break from the hustle and bustle of the party is very much needed right now. The click of the deadbolt jolts my heart. 

A million things run through my mind. A creep is in here with me. Hyomin locked it from the outside and forgot about me and now I’m locked in until someone remembers to come get me. How long am I gonna be in here? Is someone in here with me?

“Hello.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. “Hello, Sir.” I curtsy, tilting my head toward Prince Yeonjun as he steps into the light. Why is he in here anyway? I’ve been trying so hard to avoid him since the garden when we almost—nevermind. But he’s weaseled his way into my life. Telling the Queen I paint so I’d paint those portraits of them—yeah, I saw right through that bullshit. Bumping into me earlier tonight. But there’s nowhere to run now. We’re utterly alone. 

That’s terrifying. 

He’s never looked at me like this. Dark pupils dilated with lust and desire. It makes my heart race and I stumble back, tripping over some old cardboard boxes, but I catch myself on the countertop. 

Walking toward me, he keeps his hands in his pockets, but manages to box me in, cornering me and standing tall over me, intimidating and somehow…safe. I know he’d never hurt me. Physically at least. But I also can’t wait to see what he does next. 

“So it’s okay for you to dance with Prince Sipho but not me?” His voice grumbles with the low hum of the music right outside the door. 

“I’m not one of his servants,” I say matter-of-factly. “Why do you care anyway?” I ask cheekily as he creeps closer and closer. So close I’m fully backed into this counter now, almost sitting on top of it. “What are you—” 

“Can I kiss you?”

“No,” I answer quickly. 

“Mira…” he sighs. “How can you expect me not to kiss you when you look like that?” That makes me feel things all throughout my body that I definitely shouldn’t be feeling for ex-boyfriends, especially an ex-boyfriend that’s also my boss. And the prince of my country. 

My mouth parts and I swear I tried my best not to lick my lips. “Don’t kiss my mouth,” I say. I told Hyomin I haven’t kissed him in seven years. At least that’ll still be true after whatever happens next. 

Reaching for my hand with his white-glove-clad one, he places a gentle yet devastatingly sensual kiss to the back of it, looking up at me through his eyelashes like Prince Sipho did moments ago. But he had nowhere near the effect Yeonjun has on me. I bet he can smell the nail polish from when Hyomin painted it on my nails a few hours ago. As his perfect pouty lips kiss my hand, I can’t help but wonder how those lips would feel in other places. 

“You look—” he stops for another kiss on my palm. “Absolutely—” then the pulse-point of my wrist. “Stunning.” Then inside my elbow. Making his way up higher, my breath hitches in the back of my throat. “As usual,” he adds. 

That fucker. 

He’s always been like this. Silky smooth then sugary sweet. It gives me whiplash. 

Eventually, his lips explore my collarbone. “You’re so warm.” I don’t know how I got up here, but I’m fully sitting on the counter now. His hands are all over me—brushing my upper arms, grazing the smooth satin of the dress that covers my thighs, digging into the folds of my hips. 

How did this happen? How did I go from dancing with one Prince—a perfectly nice and gentlemanly prince—to sharing this romantic…something with Prince Yeonjun? Something because it’s not a kiss, it’s not more than a kiss, but it’s certainly not less than a kiss. It’s…something. 

His palm brushes the side of my breast and he stops himself from pushing any further before he whispers in my ear, “Can I touch you?”

“I think you already are.”

Firmly squeezing my tit over my dress, I groan as my back arches. Oh my fucking god. Is this real?

Something in his body language switches at the sound of my groaning and he drops everything to get to his knees. He pushes the skirt of my dress up and past my thighs, looking up at me for permission.

Is he…? 

My pussy clenches around nothing at the sheer thought of those gorgeous plump lips around my clit. I let him explore further with his lips without any hesitation whatsoever. Then they’re inside my thighs, slowly moving closer where I desperately need him. Nerves fill my stomach. Flashbacks of other guys going to taste me and not liking what they find enter my mind. Is that gonna happen with him? Is he gonna be turned off by my hair? My stretch marks? The way my fat thighs cover his ears?

As much as my inner feminist hates those thoughts, there’s always that twinge of embarrassment that I still haven’t managed to work through. 

“Yeonjun…” I sigh. “You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?” He asks. “Do you want me to?” Obviously. I nod. Pressing his lips to the outside of my panties, he breathes me in and I realize he’s never been this close to me. Ever. 

Sure, we’ve kissed, but we were teenagers, we had no idea what we were doing. It never got this far. Never got past the occasional makeout session on my picnic blanket under the willow tree. “You smell so good.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious. You smell delicious.” 

Lips delicate and careful, he takes his time. I never thought this is how it would be with him. I always thought of him as the kind of guy to get straight to it. At least that’s how I imagined it—him embracing me because he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed me right then and there. Whisking me off to his bedroom to undress me, never careful, never delicate. 

But I love it. Love taking a deep breath, letting my head lull back onto the wall behind me, my entire body relaxing. The feeling of a tongue flicking my clit for the first time in months, and the first time it’s his tongue. I card my hand through his hair, gripping some strands between my fingers. Mouth dropping open, I sigh, looking down at him, eyes closed, fully entranced by my taste. Thank fuck he knows exactly what he’s doing now. 

The softness of his white cotton gloves feels like heaven against the heat of my thighs, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want his bare hands on me. 

Like a mind-reader, he plucks his gloves off, one finger at a time, putting me under a spell as he goes. I stare at him as he loosens the glove by pulling on the pointer finger, then the middle, the ring, his pinky, then tugging it all the way off. It’s so sexy. I think I caught a small smirk, but it's just dark enough for it to be hidden. 

The tip of his finger teases my entrance and I can tell— “Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so wet, darling.”

Don’t call me that. But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud…I’m not even sure I’d mean it if I did. He finally pushes his finger all the way inside me, curling the tip of it to find just the right spot that makes me absolutely moan. He lets go of my skirt to grip my thighs, finally feeling him squeeze and touch me after all these years of wanting him. I beg myself not to stop him and make him touch me everywhere before continuing. 

My pointer fingers graces his and he intertwines his fingers with mine. Something this intimate only happens between lovers, right? Holding hands while fucking in the closet when there’s a party right outside the door? I can’t decide if this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done or if it’s the most romantic thing. 

Arguing with myself internally, a second finger breaches my entrance, filling me even more so than before. He’s incredible…almost skillful with his fingers. It’s sexy. And exciting. 

Expertly flicking his tongue, he finds the perfect spot with his fingertips, forcing me to buck my hips…fuck I’m so close already. How did he do this to me?

“Please…”

Everything comes to a halt. “Please what?”

“Fuck, Yeonjun, don’t do that to me.” 

“Don’t do what to you? Get you to talk to me?” I look down, defeated. How am I supposed to respond to that? Is that the only reason he’s doing this? Because I’ve been avoiding him and this was the only way he could think of to get me to talk to him? “Tell me what you want. What are you asking for?” Oh. It’s like that. Okay. 

“Please…” It’s already unbelievable that we’re doing this in a closet with a party going on outside. Prince Yeonjun is on his knees for me. And he’s making me beg? I can hardly take it. “Uh…” I stutter, trying to close my legs instinctively. He backs off, eyebrows furrowed. He’s worried about me. I didn’t mean it like that. “You’re not finished yet, are you?” I ask, pushing him back closer with my heel. 

“I’ll finish when you tell me what you want.”

Gracing my finger under his chin, I force him to look at me in the eye before saying, “Make me come. I need it so bad. Please.”  

Cocking his head to the side, he says, “I’ve always wanted to hear you beg for me.” 

My chest heaves as he dives back in for more, flicking his tongue the way I love, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. 

“Fuck, you feel good.” 

“You are delicious.” I’d love it if he could talk to me the way I—and hopefully he—likes. Dirty, up close and in my ear, but this’ll have to do for now. He can get to the real good stuff later. Will there be a later though? 

A white-hot feeling that someone hasn’t made me feel in quite some time quickly approaches. Deep in the pit of my stomach, it bubbles as my body tenses, breath shallow and quick. It builds and builds until all I want to hear him say is Come for me, darling. I know you’re so close. But I know he won’t. He has to stick to the matter at hand. 

With a sharp inhale, I moan and whimper, euphoria washing over me as my thighs tighten around his head. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this good. He’s incredibly talented—like I said, he’s an all or nothing kinda guy and I love that about him. 

“Fuck. Oh my god,” I gasp, my hips rolling needing more, more, more. Goddamn, I’m in trouble. “Holy shit.” I trail off, my breathing shallow. My eyes squeeze shut as my head drops back before my body starts flinching. “Thank you, Sir.”

My body goes slack as he slows down. Once I catch my breath, my eyes flutter open to see him looking at me with a cheeky smirk. He’s so fucking smug. 

“Sir?” 

Shit. That is just about the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve been correcting myself for weeks, reminding myself to call him Prince Yeonjun, Your Majesty, Sir. I know he hates when I call him that, even in normal scenarios. I can’t imagine how mad he is now that I’ve called him that while giving me an orgasm. Not just any orgasm, though. One of the best I’ve had in months. All while wearing our formal wear too. Fuck, he looks so sexy in his uniform. Especially with it slightly disheveled, hair messy, gloves off. 

“It must’ve slipped.”

He simply stands, darkness and lust still in his eyes as his hands grip my hips, squeezing harshly before moving them up further to my waist. His right hand trails up even higher, cupping my face to force my ear to line up with his lips. “Call me that again next time.” Next time? There’s gonna be a next time? “Got it?”

Speechless, I compose myself before whispering, “Yes, Sir.”  

cw. cunnilingus, mentions of previous bjs and hand jobs, mira is described as chubby/fat/curvy in a good way, hickeys, biting, masturbation.

YEONJUN'S POV

“Mira,” I say simply as she walks by me looking gorgeous as always. Since our little rendezvous in the butler’s closet last month, we’ve “seen” each other several times since, each meeting ending with at least one of us coming. Nothing beyond oral and hand stuff—we still haven’t kissed or seen each other fully naked yet—but even so, it’s been amazing. She’s so good at it all. The teasing, the touching, the talking, all of it. I don’t think I can pick a favorite moment.

Maybe when she asked me to give her hickeys on the inside of her thighs. Her whispering, Give me hickeys, please…wanna look down and imagine you’re there after you’re gone. Oof. Chills. 

Or maybe when she laid her back against my chest and I rubbed her clit so perfectly, she dug her nails into my forearm for dear life, so hard it broke skin. I had to wear long sleeves for three days. 

Perhaps her seeing my cock for the first time, eyes wide as she said Oh my god, Sir. You have a beautiful cock. No one’s ever called me beautiful before, let alone my dick. That made me giddier than I even thought possible. 

“Yeon—Sir,” she quickly corrects herself in case anyone’s listening. Glancing around, we’re the only ones nearby. “You look nice. New uniform jacket?” I nod. 

Tonight’s occasion is much less grand than our first night together. A simple gathering with a few royals. It was the high-stakes donors I was hoping to get some money from tonight, but they’re all donationed-out it seems. 

“You look…” I look over her, never subtle about ogling her. “Absolutely stunning. New dress?” She subtly tilts her head. I stuff my hands in my pockets. What’s the point of delaying it any more? “I need to taste you again.”

“Already? You ate me out yesterday.”

“What can I say?” I chuckle. “I’ve got a craving.” She takes a deep breath before nodding at me, not changing her facial expression. “Closet, five minutes?” 

The closet isn’t the only place we’ve had our meetings but it is definitely our most frequented spot. Honorable mentions include the library, the sunroom, and under the willow tree where she laid back against me. That was only once but it was magical. 

As she turns away, I can’t help but wonder what the rest of her looks like. She’s got what feels like the most perfect ass, but I still haven’t gotten a good look at it. And her tits…good lord what I’d give to bury my face between her bare tits. 

“Prince Yeonjun?”

“Ah, Prince Sipho,” I say, returning his bow. “Nice to see you again.” He holds his hands behind him and maintains his intimidating eye contact. “I hope you’re enjoying dinner.”

“Can I ask for a favor?” He asks, almost urgently. 

“Sure.”

“I saw you were talking to Charlotte,” he says. “I danced with her last month and I never got her phone number.” His expression softens. “I realize how awkward and potentially inappropriate this is considering she’s on your staff. Would you mind providing me with her phone number?”

“I’m sorry,” I begin. “I don’t think I know a Charlotte.”

“You were just speaking with her,” he says matter-of-factly. “Right over there.” He tilts his head in the direction of…Mira? Happily prancing off in the direction of the closet. Our closet. Oh no. 

I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. Someone was bound to be interested in her at some point. I just didn’t think my competition would be another handsome prince. What am I saying? Competition? Stop being such an ass.

“You can ask her yourself, you know.” 

“Fair enough.”

“I don’t think now’s a good time though,” I rush to say, stopping him in his tracks before he turns around. “She’s busy. I just sent her to do a task.”

“Then I suppose you should give me her number now, then?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally speak up to say, “I’ll talk to her first. You know, make sure she’s comfortable with me giving out her phone number.”

“Of course.” He tilts his head and walks away. My mind races with questions. Did he sweep her off her feet? Have they slept together? Or worse: have they kissed? Why does he think her name is Charlotte? But I’ve gotta get back to the matter at hand.

“You’re already ready for me, hm?” I ask, seeing her proudly sitting on the countertop, waiting for me. She nods cutely, wiggling her feet back and forth. Locking the door, I take my gloves off one finger at a time before stuffing them in my pocket for safe keeping. Then I loosen my collar a bit, something I know she thinks is hot, so I always make a show out of it just for her. 

As I step closer, she grips the edge of the counter so tightly the veins on the back of her hand pop out. She crosses her ankles and looks down briefly but puts on a brave face to stare me in the eye. Wrapping my arms around her, I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. 

“You smell so good.” I’ve noticed she’s started wearing a specific perfume for special occasions—the gala last month, dinners like these, she even wore it once when she shyly asked me to eat her out again on a random Tuesday. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Never taking my lips off her neck, I feel all over her, albeit over her dress, but she feels lovely. Dropping to my knees, I lift her skirt up to access her thighs with my lips, placing kisses everywhere. And there they are—those gorgeous hickeys I gave her last week. Still there. I swipe my thumb across one before biting her skin gently.

“Can I ask you something?” She hums as I move closer and closer to her center. Glancing up at her, her eyelids have fluttered shut and her hands are in my hair. “Do you know Prince Sipho?” Her hands stop.

“I know of him,” she says plainly. “Why?”

“No reason,” I say, nudging her thigh with my nose to encourage her to open wider. I add, “Said he danced with you and I guess he likes you.” I place a kiss on the outside of her thong right between her pussy lips. “Asked me for your phone number.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“...Oh.” She leans back, resting her hands behind her back for support. Is that a good oh or a bad oh?

“He thinks your name’s Charlotte though.” I chuckle. “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know,” she says awkwardly while I dig my fingers into her thong, pulling it down her legs, still watching her body language carefully. “That’s weird.” 

“Mira.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, but still welcomes my lips around her pussy. “I dunno—I wasn’t interested so I gave him a fake name. Doesn’t everyone do that?”

“Mm…I suppose,” I say, spreading her lips to flick my tongue against her clit. Fuck, she tastes amazing. Every fucking time. Her hand flies to my hair again, taking quick breaths. “Why wouldn’t you be interested in him?” 

“Can we not talk about Prince Sipho while you’re eating me out, please?”

“I was just curious.” 

Why wouldn’t she be interested, though? He’s definitely her type—tall, handsome, smart, royal. 

Images of them dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, his hand sliding further down her back make my vision red. 

Maybe she’s interested in someone else with those same qualities, perhaps even more devastatingly handsome than him. And hilarious, might I add. 

But thinking about her dancing with Sipho while thinking about me makes me giddy. When else does she think about me? When she’s eating breakfast? Doing her chores? Getting ready to go to bed? In the shower? When she touches herself? Oh. That sends shivers down my spine. 

“How often do you think about me, Mira?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when do you think about me?”

She takes a deep breath, letting her head fall back against the wall, the slightest smile flashing over her lips before she says, “When I’m horny.”

“So you think about me when you touch yourself?” 

Her fingers stop again and she looks up, eyes wide like I caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been. I’d never let her see it, but I’m giggling on the inside. She’s so cute. 

“Um,” she clears her throat. “I guess, yeah.” There’s a looming awkward silence while I keep licking her. She’s trying not to react to how good it feels. Trying not to give in. 

“Well, go on.”

“What?” Mira asks. 

“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me exactly what you think about.” She takes a deep breath to collect herself, like she’s trying to hold back her noises and movements. I don’t like that she feels the need to do that with me. If anything, I crave hearing and feeling them. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.”

Her breath hitches, eyes flitting away before locking back to mine. "I think about you touching me," she admits quietly, but I can tell she’s gaining confidence. "The way you did the first time.” She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I think about your hands on my body," she continues. "The way you knew exactly where to touch me, how to make me feel..."

"How to make you feel what?" I prompt, my hands gently caressing her thighs, urging her to keep going while my mouth is nowhere near her pussy.

"How to make me feel good," she breathes out, her eyes closing as she loses herself in the memory and the feeling of my tongue on her clit. 

“Do you miss it? ” I ask, my breath hot against her skin. "Do you miss me when I’m gone and can’t make you feel good?”

She nods, her breath sharp and quick. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice trembling with desire. "I miss it so much." My hands continue to explore her body, relearning every curve and contour, desperate to rip this dress off her, but we haven’t crossed that boundary yet. 

"What else do you think about?" I ask, my voice a gentle command.

“The way you taste.”

"And how do I taste?" I ask, my lips ghosting over her skin, teasing her with the promise of more.

"Salty," she whispers, her voice hitching. I can’t tell if she means— “That’s a good thing.” I smile against her skin, relieved while my hands squeeze her thighs. “But I mostly think about your mouth. How good you are at this. Those hickeys you gave me have certainly come in handy.” 

“How so?” I slide two fingers inside her and her breath gets quicker. 

Groaning, she says, “Looking down at them turns me on so much.” She swipes her hand across them. “Thinking about us sneaking around like this. It makes me feel…dirty.” She giggles. “Is that cheesy?” I shake my head and start licking her clit again. “They need to stop assigning me tasks while you’re around.” I hum in question. “The other day they made me clean the studio while you were in your pottery lesson—why it couldn’t wait, I don’t know—but it was too much,” she says. “Watching you with your sleeves pushed up, your hands on the clay, oh my god, you were so hot. You had me hot and bothered all day long.”

I genuinely had no idea. She does a great job of hiding that. Little does she know, I was stealing glances of her that whole lesson—I don’t remember a single word my instructor said. The only thing I was looking at was her body, her curvy thighs, full breasts, squishy tummy, the greatest ass I’ve ever seen and I haven’t even seen it bare yet. “What did you do afterward?”

She hesitates, tensing up, holding back. “I don’t wanna say.”

I stop in my tracks. “Tell me.”

“No,” she whines. “Don’t make me.” Refusing to speak or look down at me, I pull away from her, looking at her like, I’m not gonna keep going until you tell me. With an insatiable eye roll, she finally speaks up, “I thought about you.” I look at her again like, That’s not enough and you know it. “Fine,” she says. Of course, if this truly bothered her, she knows our safe word. Tapping her fingers on the counter before bashfully looking away, she admits, “I thought about you while I touched myself.”

Satisfied, I give her a kitten lick on her clit, making her gasp. 

“I, uh…I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, at the hickeys you gave me.” I start licking more and more, rewarding her for talking. “I thought about what it would look like if someone walked in on us while you did this to me. Or what someone would think if they saw the hickeys you gave me.”

Her hips start to roll and I know I can’t speak anymore. Because that would mean taking my mouth off her pussy, which neither of us want. Instead, my grip on the fat of her thighs gets harsher and I stay steady with my mouth, knowing this is the exact speed and pressure she needs. 

“I thought about you ripping my dress off but then slowing down to take my thong and bra off,” she says. Well, that’s new. We’ve never mentioned anything further than this. Does she want something more than this? 

“About you pressing your bare chest against mine,” she adds breathlessly. “You licking my tits.” Her thoughts and words start speeding up, like she’s telling me not to stop no matter what. “You tapping my clit with your cock.” Oh my god. She wants to do things like that with me? Fuck. I can’t show how giddy that makes me, not right now at least. 

Her hands hold onto my hair for dear life. Her moans pitch up and increase speed, like a chant, getting louder and louder. “You fucking me from behind,” she says. “Fucking me so good I can hardly take it.” She’s so close. “Until—until…” She's panting, clearly right on the verge of reaching her orgasm. “I’m coming so good for you,” she whispers breathlessly. I can feel it when her thighs tremble, when her clit pulsates against my tongue, when her nails dig into my scalp. 

Catching her breath after she comes, she finishes off with a sweet, “Thank you, Sir.”

cw. more yeonjun environmental activist, suggestive, cheesy idk. 

MIRA'S POV

“I can’t believe you did this,” I spit at Yeonjun, messily packing my old beat up carry-on. He refolds one of my t-shirts and hands it to me. 

“I thought you’d be excited to go.” 

Scoffing, I put a fist on my hip and face him. “I’m going as your servant.” He rolls his eyes before shoving his hands in his pockets. “All the other servants already think there’s something going on between us. Requesting me for your dumb business trip is gonna look suspicious.”

“Dumb?” He’s visibly offended. “This is an important business trip for me.”

“Still. They won’t shut up about this for months and you know it.”

“I thought you said there was nothing to talk about,” he says smugly, but I ignore him. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t act all servant-y the whole time, okay? Mother insists I take someone, but I’m a grown-up. I can do things on my own,” he says. “I knew you would be…normal, I don’t know. You wouldn’t curtsy, be on edge, or call me Sir.”

I stop in my tracks to look him in the eye and ask, “Except for when you want me to, right?” I hadn’t thought about what we might do at the hotel while we’re gone. Would he invite me to his room so he could taste me? Would he surprise me with a knock on my door? Would he text me to meet him somewhere else? I don’t know but I admit I’m excited to find out. 

The next morning, I hoist my suitcase into the trunk of the town car while the chauffeur, Eston, opens the door for me. I’m greeted with a sleepy “Morning,” from Yeonjun as he hands me a travel mug full of coffee that I didn’t ask for, but I’m definitely grateful for. 

“We’re taking the same car?”

“Of course,” he says. “Less cars on the road.”

Oh my god, he looks so cute with his sleepy eyes and messy hair. Although he flies commercial everywhere he goes, he wears every disguise possible: hat, face mask, hoodie with the hood up, you name it. We get to go through security privately though, which is nice. 

After our long flight, I want nothing more than to crash into a nice, warm bed—actually, any bed will do. It’s still light, but it’s evening and I’m ready to go to bed early. While he handles check-in, I scroll through my phone—international data plan paid for by the Queen, thank you very much. 

On the elevator, I ask , “Which floor am I on?” 

“Seven.” I nod, reaching for the seven button on the elevator, but it only goes up to six. There’s only one above it, which is labeled ‘Penthouse.’

Wait. “Did you only get one room?”

“Well…”

“Yeonjun!” I scream-whisper. “What is wrong with you? What did you think—”

He holds his hands up to clarify, “It has two rooms, okay? I wasn’t trying to…I dunno, make anything happen. It seemed easier.” 

The room is truly magnificent. Luxurious gold silk drapes frame the windows to let light flood the room. Sofas and armchairs surround a marble fireplace—cozy yet regal, just how Yeonjun likes it. An intricately carved coffee table sits in the middle of the room holding a vase of fresh flowers. There’s even a piano sitting in the corner. 

The view from the terrace takes my breath away. The gorgeous blues of Lake Geneva and the snow-capped alps are gorgeous. The air is crisp and clean and refreshes my lungs from the inside out. I lean on the railing, letting the cool breeze brush against my face as calmness washes over me.

“Gorgeous, huh?” Yeonjun asks as he stands beside me, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

“This is fucking incredible,” I say, my gaze never waiving from the beauty of the landscape. 

“I knew you’d like it,” he says. I glance over at him and he gives me a warm smile. 

“You’ve been here?”

“I’ve never stayed in this hotel, but I’ve been to Geneva, yes.” 

There’s a silence. Like we both know we want to do something, but we’re unsure of exactly what. Go in for a hug? No. Let him wrap his arm around me? No. Kiss him? Absolutely not. We can’t fall into that relationship space. The tension presses down on us, unspoken but palpable.

“Well, I’m exhausted,” he says, breaking the silence. “Did you wanna take a shower first or…?” 

“You can go ahead,” I say as I walk through the room, planning to unpack a bit first. Extending my suitcase’s handle, I ask, “Where’s the other room?” He grimaces, avoiding my gaze. “What?”

“Don’t be mad,” he starts, but I’m already visibly mad. “I must’ve looked at the website wrong.” I brace for the inevitable while he braces for my reaction. “This is it.”

“Seriously, Yeonjun? One bed?.” This is not gonna turn into a cheesy only-one-bed-left story. Nope. I won’t let it. “You better get me another room.”

“I already called and they’re out.” I’m fuming. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says. My face softens. I didn’t necessarily want that. “Really, it’s okay.”

“Yeonjun,” I say, guilt in my voice. 

“Mira, it’s fine. Really. It was my mistake, so I’ll take the couch.” 

“Okay,” I say. “I guess you can’t do stuff on your own, then, huh?”

-

The next morning, I wake up in this giant bed. Alone. The smell of coffee is already wafting through the air. Stretching under the covers, I sit up to see Yeonjun on the terrace, reading a newspaper. Not on his phone—a literal printed newspaper. I don't even know where he got it. 

An adorable little prince sitting there with his luxurious silk PJs, fuzzy slippers, messy hair, and the cutest pair of glasses anyone’s ever seen. Before joining him, I pull a hoodie over my tank top.

“Aren’t I supposed to get you your coffee?” I ask, admiring the view of the lake. 

“When you wake up on time, yes,” he says, not looking up from his paper while he pushes up his glasses. 

“I…I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself back into my professional persona. 

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckles, sitting his coffee on the coaster and looking at me. “I wasn’t trying to be bossy. You seemed like you needed sleep. And I can get my own coffee,” he says. “Besides, today is a day off. You can get me coffee tomorrow.” I nod. “Did you have plans today?”

“I dunno…maybe I’ll draw by the lake or something.” 

“I’m kayaking on the lake and having a picnic lunch if you want to join me,” he suggests. “You can bring your sketchbook.”

-

The lake shimmers like a bed of gems, crystal-clear waters reflecting the sunlight in brilliant shades of blue. As we paddle alongside each other, our rowing is rhythmic until we reach a small pebbled shore on the other side of the lake.

Yeonjun jumps out first, standing up in the water to pull his kayak to shore. He’s so charming with his crocs and shorts short enough to expose his muscular thighs. The t-shirt he’s got on is somehow the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, perfectly accentuating his pecs and clinging to his biceps. And the cutest lake hat sits on his head, making me absolutely giddy. 

Without having to ask, he pulls my kayak in so I don’t need to step in the water or pull it up myself. He offers his hand to me with a smile, my fingers lingering a bit too long after I stand to my feet. 

While I set up the blanket on the pebbled shore, I ask, “What’s tomorrow’s meeting about?”

His eyes light up while he unpacks our picnic. "Tomorrow's meeting is with the Global Environment Facility," he begins, settling back against the kayak, pouring some juice into two glasses. "We're discussing several things, but we’ll be focusing on keeping our water clean.” He tilts his head toward the sparkling Lake Geneva in front of us, its pristine waters a reminder of the importance of this endeavor. "Access to clean water is a fundamental human right," he says passionately. “But there’s so much…crap in them. You know 26% of the world doesn’t have access to safe drinking water?” My eyes widen. “And so many beautiful oceans and rivers and lakes like this one keep getting trashed.” 

His dedication is contagious, and I find myself leaning in, captivated by his words. "It's more than policies and proposals," he continues. "It's about creating real, tangible changes that will protect our planet.” He smiles, a mix of determination and hope in his expression. "I mean, I dunno…it’s a big goal I guess,” he says, glancing down in embarrassment. 

“Seems like you’re actually doing something about it.”

“We’re at least trying to make change happen.”

Sitting on the blanket, I fest my legs out in front of me with my hands supporting me from behind. He hands me a glass while he sits criss-cross next to me. “You seem really passionate about it,” I say. 

“I am,” he nods.

A comfortable silence settles over us as we enjoy our meal. Afterward, he takes his book out of his backpack, reclining back to rest his head against the kayak. I take out my sketchbook and pencils, setting it up against my knees and thighs. 

I try to focus on capturing the serenity of the lake, but my eyes keep drifting to him. His presence is so comforting and I’m reminded of that every time we’re alone like this. Watching him, I can’t help but think about what it would feel like to rest my cheek against his chest. Warm. Strong. Safe. 

“Yeonjun?”

“Hm?” He looks up at me from under his hat, but I don’t know what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he sits up completely and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I stutter, returning to my drawing. 

An hour or so passes—I’ve made great progress on my drawing and it seems like he made a nice dent in his book, but the sun’s setting fast. 

“We should probably go soon,” he notes. “We shouldn’t kayak in the dark and it’ll probably take an hour to get back.”

-

“Everything okay?” Yeonjun asks, startling me on the terrace. I hum, avoiding looking at him. He looks too good after showers—hair damp and skin pink from the hot water—so I better not take a peek. I’ve clipped my wet hair up—it holds its waves better that way. 

“I’m finishing up this drawing I started at the lake. Adding some watercolor.” 

“Is that me?” He asks, pulling the other seat around to sit next to me. 

“Yeah,” I nod awkwardly. “I just drew what I saw.” I say, giving in and glancing at him while he smiles to himself as he examines the art. 

Seconds pass before he adds, “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” I say, my arms crossed. He’s so, so close to me. 

“Yeah?” I hum. “Since you showed me this,” he says, gesturing to the drawing. “I’ll show you this picture I took of you,” he says, reaching for his phone in his pocket. Leaning even closer to me, I feel his warmth. I must say I look pretty. My hair’s windswept, I have a nice pink in my cheeks, and I look genuinely happy looking out over the water. His fingers mindlessly touch mine while he looks at me. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says. “You know, on the picnic.”

“No worries,” I say. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he says, not moving an inch. Oh my god, he looks so kissable right now. I can’t believe how long we’ve gone without kissing each other even once. I didn’t think we’d last one week after we started…whatever we’re doing. Hooking up? 

Regardless, I’m relieved. We should not be starting something right now. He’s my boss. My boss and my ex that broke my heart. 

But we’re leaning in closer and closer, like we’re about to—don’t you dare. I catch myself first. 

“You can, uh…you can sleep in the bed with me if you want,” I whisper. He shakes his head and starts to protest. “Really, it’s okay. Swear. It’s a huge bed.”

cw. brief mention of the death of a grandparent, yeonjun environmental activist, eating food.

YEONJUN'S POV

As I make my way toward the grand conference hall, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. Today's meeting is a pivotal moment in my advocacy work and I need to be right on. I love this though. Speaking for what I believe in. Convincing people. And admittedly, sounding smart, which I am.

Glancing over my shoulder, Mira follows close behind me, which is what she’s meant to be doing. It still sends shivers down my spine. Our return to our professional roles after our idyllic kayaking excursion feels strange, but duty calls and we both have our parts to play. I square my shoulders and quicken my pace, the marble floors echoing under my feet. 

With a final glance back at Mira, she offers an encouraging smile and asks, “Ready?” I take a deep breath. “You’re gonna be great.” She opens the door and I step into the grandeur of the conference room. The air is charged with energy, a palpable sense of purpose radiating throughout the room. 

Taking my place at the head of the table, pride and excitement surges through me. This is it—the moment I’ve been preparing for, the chance to make a real difference.

-

Coming back home—hotel room—I’m exhausted but exhilarated. As I’m about to collapse onto the couch, a knock at the living room entryway wakes me up. 

“You hungry?” Mira asks, flipping through the room service menu. 

“Order whatever you like.”

“What would you like?”

“Anything’s fine. I’m not picky.”

After she places the order on the phone, we chat about the meeting a bit, but it isn’t long before the conversation gets lighter. We laugh about our kayaking adventure yesterday, recalling the near-disaster when I almost tripped into the water face first. The room service arrives promptly, and we dig into our meal. 

"So, tell me," she says between bites of her spaghetti, "what got you interested in environmental advocacy in the first place?"

I lean back, chewing the bite of pizza in thought. "I guess it started when I was a kid. You remember how much I loved nature even back then.” She nods. “Whenever I got stressed, I’d go outside—you know, for a walk, camping, whatever, and one day, I looked around and only saw wealthy people and it was one of those moments where I realized how lucky I am,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “Access to nature is a fundamental human right. It’s already inaccessible to many and it’s only getting worse.”

She nods. “It's easy to take it for granted.”

“It was something I’d never thought about,” I chuckle. “I was a fucking prick back then.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, a little too easily. She’s not wrong though.

“As I got older, I started to see the impact of pollution and climate change. I knew I had to do something, even if it was just a small part."

We continue talking late into the night, sharing stories and dreams, discovering new facets of each other's personalities. It’s in these quiet moments I cherish that I get to see some real parts of her, like in the garden, when she painted my portrait, when we went kayaking. 

“What’s something you’re passionate about?” I ask. She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Nah, come on, you gotta be passionate about something.” Shrugging, she shakes her head. “How about your art?”

Smiling to herself, she asks, “What about it?”

“Why are you an artist?”

She leans back, tracing patterns of the fabric on the couch with her finger. "This is cheesy but when I look around, I see colors, shapes, emotions. When I draw or paint or whatever, it's like I'm putting pieces together, creating something whole. It’s not about making something beautiful, but capturing a moment or a feeling, things I can’t say out loud,” she says, glancing around the room bashfully. “Or whatever.”

“Not or whatever. You need to give yourself more credit.”

She nods shyly, looking down with a grin. "I remember this painting I did. It was of an old barn, you know, out of town a bit. Everyone thought it was just a pretty picture of decay. But it was about resilience, how even in decay, there’s a story that refuses to be forgotten, even if it can’t speak for itself or if no one’s listening but me.” I nod. “That’s what I really love. Finding those moments that only a few people notice. It’s like saying, ‘Hey, I see you and I feel this too.’” That’s amazing. She’s never spoken so candidly like this with me before. “Like when you asked if I was gonna paint your freckle and your birthmark, like, of course I am! That’s a part of you and I see you, you know?”

I chuckle with her. “Do you have a favorite piece?”

She thinks for a moment. “Probably a painting I did of my grandmother’s hands. She was a seamstress, and her hands were always so busy, always creating. When she wasn’t sewing, she was sketching, measuring, creating patterns. It was my way of honoring her, capturing her essence. Her hands have so many stories to tell.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “She was the one person in my family I really wanted you to meet back then.”

“Invite her over for dinner some time,” I suggest. 

“She, uh,” She clears her throat. “She passed a couple years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” She waves her hand. “I would’ve loved to have met her.”

“It’s okay.” But her eyes are tearing up just a bit. She blinks them away and adds, “She meant so much to me, but I guess that’s…how things go.”

“Where’s that painting now?”

“It’s back home, like, my home home, not the castle.” 

“I’d love to see it.”

“I’ll find it the next time I go back home and bring it back with me.” As the conversation winds down, we sit in comfortable silence as the city lights cast a soft glow through the window. "I should probably let you get some rest," Mira says, breaking the silence.

I nod, feeling a pang of reluctance. "Yeah, we have another busy day tomorrow."

She stands up, but before she leaves, she turns to me, her expression gentle. "Goodnight, Yeonjun. And thank you for tonight. It was nice to just...talk."

"It was,” I reply. “Let's do it again sometime."

cw. cunnilingus, protected sex, mira’s body is described as squishy/chubby in a good way, mention of moles and vvv brief mention of armpits, toys, body worship, masturbation, pet names (darling, love, babe, baby).

YEONJUN'S POV

After another grueling meeting, I’ve ditched my tie and unbuttoned a few of my shirt buttons while Mira has completely changed into lounge clothes back at the hotel room. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense her watching me, leaning up against the wall. But I let it slide. I don’t think she realizes how often she does it. 

“How did today’s meeting go?” She asks. 

“You were there.”

“I know, but how did it go from your perspective?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events fresh in my mind. "It was intense," I start, a mix of relief and excitement in my voice. "We covered a lot of ground. Like I said, we talked about keeping waters clean.”

“Did you all come up with any new ideas?"

"Actually, yes," I say, a spark of enthusiasm igniting. "We talked about implementing advanced watershed management and enhancing wastewater treatment technologies. But what really stood out was the proposal for a global initiative to reduce industrial runoff. It's ambitious, but the potential impact is huge."

She nods, clearly intrigued. "Was everyone on board?"

"For the most part," I reply, recalling the lively debates. "There were a few moments of contention, especially when it came to funding, so I’ll be doing a lot of fundraising for awhile, but everyone agreed they seem like good ideas.”

Mira's smile is warm and encouraging. "I'm glad it went well.” Her words, simple yet heartfelt, warm me up. She finally pipes up again to add, “You looked hot up there.” 

I chuckle. “Yeah?” She nods. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, walking closer to me. “How smart and passionate you are. That’s hot.” That is exactly what I was hoping she’d say. I kept catching myself stealing glances of her during the meetings. It was hard to tell if she was looking at me to look at me or because that’s technically her job. Even if it is her job, I can tell between her different looks—her checking in look, her secretly admiring me look, and her I need you and I need you now look, which might be my favorite.

The look she’s got on her face is starting to lean toward that last one, but she’s not quite there yet. I only observe, let her fall into that place if she wants to.

“Well, thank you,” I tilt my head in her direction before the piano behind her catches my attention. “You know, I’ve been taking piano lessons.” She hums. Sometimes I forget it's also her job to know everything about me—everything about my schedule and activities at least. “You still like classical music, right?” She nods gently, a slight smile constantly on her lips. 

I’m not the best at piano, so I start fumbling through Moonlight Sonata. Giggling through every wrong note, she brushes some hair away from my face. 

“Ah, I need the sheet music,” I say quietly. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs, I know she’s still staring at me with look number three: I need you and I need you now. All professionalism has gone out the window. The biker shorts she’s wearing outlines her stomach perfectly, her thighs barely bulge at the hem, and her tank top accentuates her breasts beautifully. She’s a stunner. 

I reach for her hand and drag my thumb across her knuckles. My hands rest against the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer so she steps between my legs, my hand moving to her backside, squeezing her so deliciously. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I bury my nose between her breasts, taking a deep breath. She always smells so goddamn amazing. 

“I need you,” she whispers as her fingertips drag across my scalp. 

“I know, darling.”

“No,” she chuckles. “I need more from you this time,” she says breathlessly. I stand up straight, looking down at her as she looks at me through her eyelashes. “I need you inside me. Please.” 

“Of course,” I say, diving straight for her lips, but she turns her head, so my lips crash into her cheek. 

“Did I say you could kiss me?” Picking her up, I let my face rest in her chest again as I carry her to the bed, praying I don’t trip over anything along the way. As I sit her down on the mattress, she says, “Kiss me everywhere but my mouth, okay? Everywhere.” 

I don’t wanna argue with the no kissing rule right now, so I simply nod, covering her neck with kisses while I tug her shorts off her legs. Holding her leg by her ankle, I press my lips to it, trailing it all the way up to her thigh while her hand slips under her thong. I’m looking over her body, closing my eyes for a few seconds at a time, but I can feel her eyes on me. 

“Everywhere, babe,” she reminds me. Babe? I decide not to mention it—don’t ruin the moment. I slowly lift her shirt, but she gets impatient and takes it off herself, throwing it somewhere before tugging at the hem of mine, hinting at me to ditch it. 

My lips land right above her bra, kissing and nipping the tops of her breasts. I literally can’t wait to see her completely, so I waste no time in snapping it off and taking a second to admire her. Then, I gently kiss her neck and feel her whole body with my hands. Warm, soft, welcoming, curvy, squishy, perfect. 

When I squeeze her tit for the first time, she moans, arching her back while I sloppily stamp her collarbone with my lips. I want nothing more than to lick her nipples—it’s all I’ve thought about for the last few days—but…I dunno. I’m nervous. 

“Jjun…please,” she starts. There’s that nickname. It made my heart sing when she accidentally called me that a couple months ago. It used to slip past her lips so easily when we were together all those years ago, but now she stays so formal. “Lick my nipples, please.” 

Tongue flicking her nipple, her eyes roll back as her body follows. As I kiss further down her body toward her tummy, she reaches for my hair and pulls, making both our breath quicken. She takes the liberty of taking off her own thong and I get rid of my pants. 

We’ve been desperate for this. Desperate to actually feel each other’s bodies. Not clothing-clad bodies, but bare, vulnerable, warm bodies that want each other. And I can’t get enough. I thought I could taste her forever, but now that I’ve gotten my hands on her, on her squishy, chubby body, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her.

She starts to get impatient, but I’m not finished with her yet. Landing back on top of her, I say, “Lemme just…kiss on ya for a second, okay?”

“Not my—”

“Not your mouth, I know,” I say, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, trailing down her jaw and sneaking in to nuzzle her neck. Whispering into her ear, I tell her, “I love making you gasp like that.” She chuckles, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, but I grab them and put them over her head to continue kissing her everywhere, tasting each bit of her with the tip of my tongue before pressing my lips to her. Her collarbone, her shoulders, her underarms. Everywhere.

She’s got the cutest mole on her side of her breast I kiss three times before moving on. 

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips when I gently kiss under her breasts. I lick a stripe up her chest between them, making eye contact with her, followed by a harsh bite of one of them. Reaching for her arm, I kiss her palm, then gently suck on the tip of her pointer finger. 

“Remember when you painted that portrait of me?��

“How could I forget?”

“When you put this pinky on my face,” I say, sucking on the tip of it. “I thought I was gonna explode. Feeling you so close to me like that. You looked so pretty that day too. With the sun shining in through the window and the plants around you.” Okay, shut up dork, too many feelings. I squeeze her tits harshly, burying my face in them. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” 

Rubbing up and down her sides, she scrunches her shoulders, letting out a giggle. I kiss and bite her tummy—I’ve always loved her stomach, but especially so when she wears biker shorts. The way the fabric pulls, creating an outline of her tummy with rays of fabric going toward her hips. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And to finally see her bare tummy right here in front of me, there’s no way I’m not gonna cover it in kisses. 

“Why are you being all touchy?”

Why wouldn’t I be? Spreading her lips, she looks absolutely delicious. I lick her clit, earning one of the most gorgeous moans I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. 

“I told you, Sir,” she says. “I want all of you this time.” 

“I know. I’m just tasting you, darling.” I glance up at her. “You thought I was gonna fuck you and not taste you first?” 

Grinding against my mouth, she can hardly take it before she starts begging. “Please, please, please, Yeonjun. I need your cock inside me. Please. I need it so bad.” 

“You’ve never had to beg like this before, hm?”

“Nope,” she says. “People usually do what I ask.” Standing, I leave her briefly for a condom that’s in my toiletries bag in the bathroom. When I come back, she asks, “Prepared, huh?” I nod awkwardly. “Wait, wait,” she stops me from rolling the condom down myself. “Let me see you.” I stand back, letting her look at me in awe before she reaches her hands out, rubbing all over my chest and stomach, kissing my hips, squeezing my balls and licking my nipple, making me gasp. 

Taking a deep breath, I admit, “I want to fuck you so bad, Mira.”

Sitting up on her knees, she reaches for my hand and places it on her breast before leaning into my ear to whisper, “Then fuck me, Sir.” Then, she takes the condom and rolls it down my cock, drawing out the process as long as she possibly can. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful,” she says. “I’m still not over it.”

She lays on her back and spreads her legs while I think of all the things I wanna do to her. I really wanna kiss her, but I can’t. She’s right. We shouldn’t. Resting between her legs, I rub my hands over her body again, taking my time contemplating, even if she protests, claiming I’m teasing her too much. But she teased me, so now I get to tease her. 

Honestly, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought we’d never get past oral in the closet. I line myself up with her entrance, bending to press my lips to her neck and whisper, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeonjun,” she says, placing a hand on my cheek to force me to look at her. “I’m sure. Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

As I push into her slowly, my whole world comes crumbling down around me. She is perfection. The way she wraps around me like a warm blanket, her eyes full of pleasure sparkling up at mine, the noises she’s making. Nothing else matters anymore but her. 

She breathes out like she’s relieved and says, “I’ve been waiting for this for seven years.” My head reels. Our arms wrap around each other as I find a slow and steady pace. Everything is her. She fits right in my arms as her nails claw at my back and her legs wrap around my waist to make sure I won't go anywhere, which I won’t. But I need to see the way her body moves. 

Sitting up, I stare down at her, pumping in and out, her tits bouncing with every move I make. Finding her clit with my thumb, the noise she makes in response is intoxicating. She arches her back, squeezing her own tit, which is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

“That’s my girl.” Can I call her that? I don’t care. I’m going to. 

She giggles and scratches my thigh, whispering, “You feel so good. Faster?” And I can’t help but comply, speeding up my thrusts but maintaining control. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up though. I want…need to go faster and she’s asking me to, but I also want to take things slow, be with her forever. “Faster, please,” she almost sounds like she’s in tears. 

I don’t go much faster, though. This has to be perfect. I can’t be too much. But—

“Hey, stop for a second,” she says genuinely and I oblige, slipping out of her to sit back on my knees. She sits up and reaches for my hands. “Come here,” she says, pulling me closer so our chests are grazing each other’s. “Are you okay?” I nod enthusiastically. “It seems like you’re holding back.” 

“I just…you feel so good and I don’t wanna get carried away. And I don’t know your, like, limits.”

“You can fuck me so hard—no, I want you to fuck me so hard. You don’t have to hold back, okay?” She reaches down and squeezes my cock, waiting for a reaction from me. “I’ve been waiting for this cock and I need you to fuck me and don’t stop until I’m begging you to.” She smiles. “Unless you ever wanna stop, of course.” I nod. “Did you wanna take it slow?”

Without giving my brain time to process, I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her up by her hips so she’s on her knees, ass up. I gather her hair in a makeshift ponytail before thrusting into her so hard it takes her breath away. She feels indescribable—a radiating ache overcomes me and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go after this. 

My thrusts reach a speed finally fast enough for her as she’s whimpering on my cock, shuddering from the feeling of me buried deep inside her. The room fills with the sound of my thighs smacking her ass, making ripples roll down her cheeks. My hand tingles wanting to spank her, but that’s a bit much, no? But she said not to hold back.

I decide to indulge myself, spanking her harshly, my hand making a loud smack, earning an irresistible moan from her. She whispers, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, who?”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whimpers. I spank her again, rubbing it to soothe the sting. I’m fucking her so fast and hard that we’re both sweating, skin getting sticky and slick. Pushing on the small of her back to deepen her arch, I find an even deeper spot inside her. “Ohmygod—” Mira gasps. 

“You sound so sexy,” I groan. I don’t want her to hold back either. I want her to be as loud as she wants to be. No one else is on this floor anyway. Pulling her up by her shoulder, I reach in front of her to rub her clit, her head dropping back and onto my shoulder. 

Slipping out of her, she shudders and whines at the sudden loss but I turn her around so she’s on her back before I land on top of her again, pinning her hands above her head. Her knees fall open and I hook my hands under her thighs before thrusting back into her, earning an incredible eye roll from her. 

“Fuck, Yeonjun.”

“I know, darling,” I say lowly. I wonder if she actually likes it when I call her that. Should I call her something else? Baby? Babe? Love? 

The speed of my thrusts increases again, while I massage her tit. She grips her legs by the back of her knees, holding them wide open for me. “Look at you…being such a good girl for me, hm?” Using my body, I push her legs down gently, letting me in even deeper. Our faces are so close to each other, her lips are just begging to be kissed, but I resist. 

She takes a deep breath, her eyebrows stitch together and she looks up at me before saying with the most genuine sounding voice, “You’re so pretty.”

That makes me absolutely gush. My shoulders scrunch as I run my fingers through my hair before I bend to lick one of her nipples so slowly she can hardly stand it. Kissing up her chest, I whisper, “You’re fucking beautiful, Mira.” Her arms wrap around my neck to pull me closer. 

“Wait, Yeonjun,” she says. I stop in my tracks. “Can you, uh…” she asks, pushing me out of her before getting up off the bed. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask. “Did I hurt you?”

She’s rummaging through her bag and replies, “No, Sir.” Returning, she hands me a small clit vibrator. Oh. “Can you, um…can you use that on me?”

“Whatever you wish, darling,” I say, watching her lay on her back again, spreading her legs open for me. I switch her toy on to the lowest setting. “Do you think about me when you use this to make yourself feel good?” Before she can answer, I place it onto her clit. 

Gasping and nodding, she says, “Yes, Sir.” Her fingers grip the sheets before she admits, “I think about you every time.” She sighs. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Of course.”

“What do you think about doing to me?”

“I think about licking all over you. About making you feel good,” I say. “About you screaming my name.”

“You like making me feel good?” 

I nod and we’re both desperate as ever now. Desperate to feel each other. To come together. I thrust back into her, quickly reaching a speed we both like, increasing the intensity of the toy along the way. Her mouth drops open as she furrows her eyebrows, her moans getting higher pitched and quicker. 

“Mira, I wanna see you cum.”

Dropping one of her legs, she wraps it around my waist, grabbing my forearm, clearly close to losing it. “Don’t stop, babe,” she whimpers. I shake my head. “Please, Yeonjun, don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, darling.”

I reach the deepest part of her, and she finally lets go—eyes rolling back, thighs trembling, clit shuddering under the toy. She’s fucking stunning when she cums. Her other leg falls to the bed while she moans out loud, the corners of her mouth curving upward. “Babe, fuck,” she says breathlessly, “You’re making me cum so hard.”

My thrusts get sloppier and I bury my free hand in her soft waves, groaning and whimpering in her ear as I cum inside her, collapsing on her shoulder. That was truly the best I’ve ever felt. 

Forehead glistening with sweat under the moonlight barely shining through the bedroom window, she looks fucking gorgeous. Her post-sex glow would make anyone swoon. My stomach swirls with emotions. I need her. But I just had her. But I need more. No, I need something else. 

“I wanna kiss you,” she says. Fuck, don’t do this to me. “Please?”

I think about it for a second—I really do. That’s what I want, no, that’s exactly what I need, but— “You told me not to.” 

Shaking her head, she admits, “I don’t care.” She looks absolutely kissable right now. I need to feel her lips on mine again. Passing by each other in the hallway and pretending not to be fucking has been miserable. Every time I see her, I refrain from running up and wrapping my arms around her to give her the best kiss she’s ever had. Not being able to do that has been bad enough, but not even kissing her when I’m literally still inside her? Now that’s torture. 

The way she looks at me too—up through her eyelashes, eyes glistening from pure pleasure, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen and utterly plump.

She hooks two fingers under my necklace to pull me closer, tilting her chin up toward me. Fuck, don’t do that. My heart races. “Please,” she says. “I need to kiss you.” 

No. Don’t. She’s the one that initiated the no kissing rule. And for good reason. We shouldn’t get involved right now. I let her tug me a few inches closer, but I dodge her lips and turn to my side to lean on the bed before clearing my throat.

“Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” I suggest. 

She sighs and says, “Okay.” Standing up silently, I watch her walk slowly to the bathroom, her body moving so beautifully, but I can tell she’s upset even from behind. I plop down on my back. Did I do the right thing? I want to kiss her more than anything but she’s told me over and over again not to. I didn’t want her to regret something because of the heat of the moment. I don’t want her to feel like I took advantage of her but I also don’t want her to feel like I don’t want her. 

The shower turns on, making me stand up. I catch her looking at herself in the mirror before she glances down. Without speaking, we both get in the huge shower that luckily has two shower heads. She wets her hair then smiles at me sweetly. 

“Can I at least have a hug?” She asks. I chuckle, opening my arms up to her. She wraps her arms around my waist. We wash the day off each other—stressful meetings, long walks to and from the conference center, the amazing sex we just had. The room is mostly silent with the occasional Can you hand me my soap? 

After drying off, we crawl back into the shared bed. I’m sitting up with my back against the headboard while I flick through the TV channels. Half laying down and half resting against the headboard, she keeps awkwardly moving closer to me, opening her mouth and breathing in like she wants to say something but never does.

I slouch a bit to get to her level before opening up my arm up to her and so she can lay her head on my chest. As she snuggles into me, I swear I could die happy right here. The air is calm and sweet and warm, her presence provides an overwhelming sense of comfort and I can’t help but graze my fingers up and down her arm until she falls asleep. 

As predicted, insomnia is my enemy tonight. Questions swirl around my mind. 

Should I have kissed her? What does she want after this? What’s she gonna be like tomorrow morning? How should I act tomorrow morning? After eating some almonds and a banana to try and induce sleep, I go for a walk around the hotel, trying to tire out my body and mind. Eventually, I lay back down thinking about what I really want between the two of us.

Normally, I’d squeeze my eyes shut to picture her lips and eyelashes, but the real Mira is lying right next to me. But I probably shouldn’t stare at her without her permission. With the warmth of thinking of her, there’s also a tug of uncertainty. What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do? What if she just wanted sex? I couldn’t really be mad at her for that, though. That’s what we both wanted at the beginning, even if there may have been some underlying feelings. That’s at least all we were expecting. 

Sighing, I turn away from her, thoughts tangling into each other, emotions pulling on the threads in every direction. I count my breaths, slow and steady, but each breath is full of her scent, making things worse, the adrenaline of unspoken feelings keeping me awake. 

Time stretches out and I look at my phone, the clock glaring back at me—4:37 AM. Another sigh escapes me, heavier this time. My meetings are done for the week, but I don’t like massive changes in my sleep schedule, even when I'm abroad. 

Pulling the covers over my head, I block out the world before quietly whispering her name, like it’s a confession I hope she may hear. I’m answered only by the faintest of snores that have been steady for hours. Finally, my thoughts blur, exhaustion pulling me into a restless sleep. But even in my dreams, she’s there, a shadow at the edge of consciousness.

-

“Hey,” I say groggily to Mira. “What happened to you?” Mira’s already dressed in her work clothes with her hair neatly tied back. The smell of the coffee she’s pouring wafts through the air and warms me up. I start to hug her from behind, but—

“I made coffee,” she replies, her tone professional and clipped. 

“Why’d you get out of bed?”

“To work. That’s why I’m here.” Her voice is detached and she finally turns to look at me. 

Searching her face for the warmth I’d seen last night, I say, “Yeah, but I thought after—”

“We shouldn’t have done that last night.”

“What?”

“Sex,” she says matter-of-factly. “We should not have had sex last night.”

“I know what you meant, but why not?” I ask, my heart pounding. “We’ve been practically having sex for months now.”

“Last night was different.” 

“So?”

Mira takes a deep breath before sitting the coffee pot back on the table. “Because, Yeonjun, I’m your servant and we used to date and now…”

“And now what? We pretend it didn’t happen?” Anger and frustration bubbles inside me. Whether I consciously knew it or not, I’d made my decision last night. I want to be with her for real and I’m willing to do whatever it takes, as long as she’ll have me. I was hoping she felt the same way, but she’s still not willing to admit the depth of our relationship out loud. “Mira, last night was…it was real. You can’t just ignore that.”

She looks away from me, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this anymore.”

My heart races faster with each step I take toward her. “It’s okay to have feelings.”

“No, it’s not,” she spits, twisting her head back to look at me. “I cannot do this again. We cannot do this again.” I start to interrupt. “I don’t wanna hear it, Yeonjun.”

“Mira, please—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “We have to end this before it even starts.” Her words bring a finality to us before she walks out of the kitchenette and onto the balcony. I suppose that’s it then. 

The silence left in her wake is deafening. I slump into a chair, running my hands through my hair, the weight of every unspoken word heavy on my shoulders. The morning light filters through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It’s surreal. 

No. This is not how we end.

Following her out onto the balcony, she stands with her back to me, staring blankly at the lake. The same lake we kayaked on together a few days ago. I envy the serenity of the water. “Mira, you can’t just walk away,” I say softly, hoping to reach her through the wall she’s built around herself. 

She doesn’t turn, but her shoulders tense. “You said it yourself, Yeonjun. I’m nothing. We couldn’t even be together even if we wanted to.” 

“Is that what this is about? You’re still upset about something I said seven years ago?” She shakes her head. “Then what is it?” She keeps turning away from me. And ignoring me. “Talk to me. Please.” 

“There’s nothing left to say.”

cw. crying, kissing. 

MIRA'S POV

The rest of our trip to Switzerland was business as usual. I made sure of it. I woke up on time, got his coffee, did everything a servant does and in the manner a servant would do. No smiles. No anger. Just business. 

“What’s been up with you recently?” Hyomin shakes me out of my daydreaming—or daynightmaring, perhaps—replaying that morning with Yeonjun. How hurt he looked. How it felt to break my own heart. How it felt to break his heart. “You haven’t been acting like yourself. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, glancing over at Yeonjun sitting at the dining table without even realizing it at first. 

Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Did something happen between you two?”

“No,” I say harshly. 

“You can’t be serious.” I shrug. “You went to Switzerland together for a week and nothing happened? Not even a kiss or a not-so-platonic hug?”

“I have work to do, Hyomin.” Shaking my head, I stomp away in the direction of my room. Slamming my door shut, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears from coming but it's no use. My phone buzzes but I already know who it is. 

Yeonjun 3:52 PM Are you ever gonna talk to me again?

It’s been four days since Switzerland but that’s the twelfth message since we got back. 

Can we talk? Can you meet me in our closet tonight? Just to talk, nothing else. I’d really like to talk to you. Please stop ignoring me. 

I have sent zero. I can’t bring myself to. Tossing my phone on my mattress, there’s a black dress bag and a note on my bed. 

For Saturday. –Y

Are you fucking kidding me? He’s buying me gifts now? What kind of relationship does he think we have? We make each other come a few times, have sex in Switzerland once and now he won’t stop texting me and buying me dresses? Fuck this. 

Me. 4:01 PM Closet. Now.

-

“Hello, darling,” Yeonjun says smugly as I slam the door shut. 

“What the fuck is this, Yeonjun?” I scream-whisper, shoving the dress bag into his chest as his face turns horrified. 

“A dress,” he says defensively, trying to not let the dress bag fall to the floor. 

“Don’t patronize me,” I spit. “You think you can buy me or something?” He shakes his head nervously. “Taking me to Switzerland, staying in a fancy hotel, buying me food, now you’re buying me an expensive dress?”

“I took you to Switzerland as a member of my staff,” he reminds me.

“If you think for one second that I’ll just come running back to you because of this—”

He grabs me by my forearm and gently yanks me close to him to stare down at me hungrily, like he wants to take me right then and there. I know this look very well by this point. 

“You’re cute when you’re mad at me.”

“Shut up.” I throw the dress down and attempt to turn away from him. “Leave me alone, Yeonjun.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firmly enough to prevent me from going anywhere. 

“Why are you so angry, really? Is it the gifts, or is it because you’re scared of what this means?” I glare at him, feeling the anger bubble up again. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I roll my eyes. He sighs, letting go of my arm but not stepping back. 

“I’m not trying to buy you, okay? I just...I like you. And I want to do things for you.”

I cross my arms, trying to maintain the obviousness of my anger but I can’t help I’m shocked. He likes me? Like that? I mean, I was hopeful but I never thought he’d ever say it out loud. Should I say it too? I almost think about it, but instead, I ask, “You think throwing money at me will make me like you more?”

“No,” he says softly, surprising me. “I just don’t know what to do, Mira,” he raises his voice. “You’re ignoring me and I want to show you I care about you.”

“I know you care about me, Yeonjun. I’m telling you to stop caring about me,” I say sternly. “It’s over.”

Over the next few days, he stops texting me, talking to me, I don’t even catch him glancing at me like I usually do several times a day. He must be avoiding me—or doing exactly what I asked him to do, I guess. Which pisses me off too. 

Saturday rolls around and we have yet another fancy dinner to host. The Queen pulled out all the stops for this one too—amazing food, open bar with fancy drinks, great music, even greater decorations. It’s gorgeous. I’d realized I should probably stop being such a bitch and make amends with him. As a gesture, I show up wearing the dress he gave me. 

“Prince Yeonjun?” I ask, watching his ears perk up as he turns around, a clear smile on his face at the sound of my voice. “Can I have a dance, please?” His face relaxes as he nods before he extends his hand to take me to the dancefloor. He performs his customary bow, followed by my curtsy. My tummy tingles a bit at the formality of it all. I feel like a princess. 

As my hand falls into his, nothing matters. Not our history. Not our future. Not his title. Not the lack of mine. I’m with him. We’re together. The soft music from the chamber orchestra is perfect accompaniment for us. 

I’d thought about the idea of us for so long. What we could be, what I want us to be, what I think he wants us to be. I don’t think it’ll ever work, but at least there’s tonight. There’s this dance. 

We sway together, hand in hand, my other hand on his shoulder while his rests around my waist. Eyes locked. His jacket catches the flicker of the chandelier while my gown flows down my waist and onto the floor gracefully. 

Expertly turning me, I can’t help but think back to the first night he broke my heart. Would he do that again? Pressing his hand firmer against my waist, I welcome it by pressing my body more securely against his.  The warmth between us grows stronger by the second. We’re falling in love again. Or maybe we already did. 

He towers over me, much like he did the night of our first kiss. Returning from a night where we’d once again snuck out to see each other, he walked me home. Standing on the front porch of my cottage, we refused to wish each other a good night. The moon was the only light source, but it was enough to see how handsome he was, even back then. 

“Yeonjun…” I whisper as he continues to lead us through a casual dance that lets us focus on a conversation. “I’m sorry.” He looks at me questioningly. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset about the dress. I felt…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I just felt so used, I dunno.” Horror crosses his face. 

“Mira…I didn’t mean—”

“No, I know,” I say. “But I felt like we could never be together, not really anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath and say, “Keeping secrets, never being able to tell everyone…we should probably stop…you know, what we’ve been doing.” I look up at him through my shaky eyes and he frowns but forces himself to nod. 

“If that’s what you want.”

“I just can’t,” I sniffle. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t. I’m right here.” He presses his hands even firmer against my waist to prove it. 

“But where were you seven years ago? I’ve—” My eyes can’t hold my tears any longer, breaking free to run down my cheeks. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb, he lifts my face to meet his eyes. “I’ve missed you too.” Pressing my lips together, I blink a tear out of my eye and I shake my head in protest. “Mira…listen.” He never lets me go. “I am so sorry for what I said that night. If I could take it back, I would.” I smile. “You know that doesn’t matter to me. You mean so much to me,” he says genuinely. “That night in Switzerland meant so much to me.” Everything halts. Our eyes meet. “But if you want me to stop, I will. I’ll never bring us up again.” 

“Us?”

“You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.” The wind’s knocked out of me. My heart races as he inches closer and closer. So close I can see each individual eyelash. “Tell me to stop.” 

“No,” I say, welcoming his lips on top of mine. His lips meet mine softly, a whisper of a kiss that feels like a promise. It's gentle, tentative at first, like we’re both terrified to lose each other. But then, the years of longing we've kept hidden surge forward, and the kiss deepens.

The room around us fades away, the music, the murmurs of the crowd, the flickering candlelight—they all dissolve into a hazy backdrop. All that exists is us, bound together in this moment of rawness. His hands move from my waist to cradle my face, his touch tender yet insistent. My hands rest against his chest. 

His kiss is everything I've ever dreamed of—sweet yet passionate, comforting yet electrifying. It speaks of forgiveness and second chances. The saltiness of my tears mingle with the softness of his lips.

It's as if we're communicating without words. Each movement, each touch, each breath shared between us is a declaration of our feelings for each other. His arms encircle me, holding me close, and I feel safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

When we finally part, breathless and overwhelmed, our foreheads rest against each other, our eyes closed as we savor the moment. The world starts to come back into focus, but it's different now. Everyone’s eyes are on us. The room has come to a halt. Glancing around the room, there isn’t one person that hasn’t stopped what they’re doing to stare at us. Not us. Me. 

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Excuse me.” I scurry off quickly, leaving him there alone.

cw. unsupportive parents, classism, crying, love.

YEONJUN'S POV

Everyone watches as she runs off like it’s a movie. She’s picked up her skirt to avoid tripping, and her head hangs low as she searches for the nearest exit. I awkwardly look around the room, excusing myself with a few head bows.

Running through the castle hallway, I catch up to her right outside my bedroom door. Her forehead’s pressed against the doorframe, arms wrapped around her body while she waits for me. She’s waiting for me. That gives me hope. At least she’s not running from me anymore. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whisper, grazing my hand across her shoulder blade. “C’mere.” I pull her into my chest, wrapping one of my arms around her while I open the door with my free hand. I lead her to my bed where she sits awkwardly scrunched into a ball while I rush to flick on some lamps. Then, I sit next to her, my hand resting on her shoulder blade for comfort. 

“I can’t—” she can hardly speak through her tears. 

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t do this, Jjun, I can’t.” She’s shaking her head, tears running down her cheeks. “I really want to but I just…” She trails off. Before I can speak up, she adds, “Your mother—” 

My heart sinks. “My mother? Did she do something to you?” Pressing her lips together, she nods. “Take some deep breaths, love, and tell me what she did.” She does as I say, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, attempting to compose herself. 

“After,” she starts hiccuping and I encourage her to take more deep breaths by modeling the breathing technique she was using earlier. “After that night in Switzerland,” she begins, but it’s too difficult for her to speak. Pulling out her phone, she silently thumbs through her phone to her voice mail box. My mother’s voice, cold and stern, plays from the speaker. 

Mira Ashenrose, the audacious servant who dares aspire beyond her station, it has come to my attention that your eyes linger far too long on my son. Your actions are not only bold but also insolent, as you seem to have forgotten your place within my castle walls.

Let me be clear: the Prince's future is one of sovereignty and grandeur, a path predetermined by bloodline and duty. Any attempts to disrupt or divert his focus with your insignificant presence will be met with severe consequences.

You are a servant, a role you should embrace with humility and gratitude. Your duties do not include entertaining fantasies of a life beyond your given position, especially one involving a royal whom you are unworthy to even address directly.

Cease your imprudent behavior immediately. Should I find even the slightest hint of your infatuation resurfacing, you will discover that my patience is not to be tested. Your continued employment—and indeed, your very well-being—hangs by a thread of my tolerance, a thread that I am fully prepared to cut.

Do not mistake this warning for mere words. You will find that I am a queen of action. Refrain from crossing boundaries that were never meant for you, and remember your place. It is only in your compliance that you will find any semblance of mercy from me.

Consider this your only warning.

By this point, her crying has subsided to sniffles but I’m speechless. How could she have done this? “I woke up that night after we…were together. You were still next to me. I was just checking the time and I had that message waiting for me.” 

“Mira, I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

“I care,” she says. “I can’t be with someone whose mother thinks of me like this,” she says, gesturing to her phone. “And you used to think of me that way. What if you start thinking like that again? Or do you already think of me this way?”

“Of course not,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Look at me.” She puts on a brave face before looking me straight in the eye. “Do you wanna know what I think of you?” She hums. “Perfect. Beautiful. Kind. Caring. Talented.” Smiling to herself, she looks down at our hands. “That’s what I think of you.” She nods gently and I brush some hair back. “You should have told me.” She shakes her head. 

“I decided to quit anyway,” she sniffles. “I already put in my two weeks. That’s why I asked you to dance. I wasn’t gonna leave without dancing with you at least once.” She glances down at my lips. “Or kissing you at least once,” she giggles. 

“Or twice?”

She chuckles again, glancing down at the floor, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Sure.” I peck her lips gently. 

“Three times?” I ask, barely backing away from her. 

“How about you kiss me over and over until I tell you to stop?”

I don’t waste any more time playing silly games with her. I crash my lips into hers and we melt together, she groans against my lips and I deepen the kiss, my hand against her cheek. But she soon breaks it to ask, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me? You know, when I asked you to.”

“Because I thought if I did, you’d do exactly what you did the next morning,” I say. “I didn't wanna lose you.” 

Nodding, she runs her thumb across my knuckles. “What are we gonna do?” She asks. 

“About what?”

“Us.”

“There’s an us?”

“Ah, shut up,” she laughs, nudging my shoulder. “You know I’m yours whenever you’re ready.”

-

“Yeonjun, what is it? I’m very busy,” Mother says, not bothering to look up from the many papers that are shuffled across her desk. 

“Mother, we need to talk,” I say, my voice steady but firm.

Sliding her glasses off her nose, she drops them on the desk and turns in her chair to make eye contact. “You’re right,” she says and I look confused. “What are these policy proposals you wrote?” Why is she reading those? How did she even find them? “This Freshwater Sustainability Proposal,” she says matter-of-factly. 

“What’s wr—”

“This is some of your worst writing. Half of it doesn’t even make sense,” she says, my stomach dropping. Those were drafts. “I mean, what is this part about ‘aquatic ecosystem revitalization through bioremediation techniques’? You think the council will understand that jargon? And this section on ‘community-based water stewardship programs’? It’s laughably naive. Who’s going to manage these programs? Volunteers?”

“That is a well-researched proposal meant to—”

“Well-researched?” She scoffs, flipping through the pages with a dismissive hand. “It’s idealistic drivel, Yeonjun. We need practical solutions, not fanciful ideas that belong in a classroom.”

“These ideas could make a real difference.”

She waves a hand, brushing off my words. “Idealism is pointless. We can’t gamble on untested theories.”

“Untested theories?” I can’t help but let a note of disbelief slip into my voice. “They’re proven methods many other countries have successfully implemented.”

“Our priority is status and stability.”

“What good is status and stability if our environment collapses?” I challenge.

She glares at me, her eyes cold before she lets out an evil chuckle. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

“Is that why you feel the need to control every aspect of my life?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I take a deep breath, preparing for the moment of truth. “When did you find out about Mira?”

The question hangs in the air, catching her completely off guard. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, but she quickly masks her surprise. “Who? Oh, that servant that quit last week? I did see you two kiss at the party.”

“Don’t play games with me, Mother,” I say, my voice hard. “I know you knew about us before that. That voicemail you left her? Where you threatened her, told her she was nothing but a servant, and to stay away from me.”

She recovers quickly, her expression turning cold. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?”

“How dare you do such a thing?” I shoot back. “Mira is someone I care about and you had no right to interfere with our relationship,” I say.

“Relationship?” She rolls her eyes. “Your relationship is a shallow, pleasant distraction at best. She’s simply a way to blow off steam, to indulge in sexual frustrations.”

Ew. But okay. “It’s more than that, Mother. Mira means something to me.”

She sighs, a mix of impatience and disappointment in her voice. “Yeonjun, you’re too young to understand the complexities involved here. You have a duty to this kingdom, to your people. Mira is not part of that equation.”

“If you can’t find a way to accept the woman I love, then…I don’t know if there’s anything else for us to say to each other.”

“You’ve known her for three months, Yeonjun. You’re not in love.”

I shake my head. “We’ve known each other for seven years.”

“What?” She asks, shocked. “You’ve been seeing her behind my back for seven years?”

“No,” I say. “We used to date a while ago and then we…I dunno, started back up after she started working here.” 

“You think you love her,” she counters sharply. “But what you feel is temporary. It’s not sustainable. And you’re all for sustainability, right?” I roll my eyes. “I will not allow you to jeopardize your future and duty for a fleeting infatuation,” I say. “Your choices affect everyone,” she says, her tone unyielding. “Including the stability of this kingdom.”

“You’re trying to control me,” I accuse, feeling the weight of her authority pressing down on me.

“I’m trying to protect you. You must think beyond your own desires.”

Eventually, I say, “Mother, mind your business.” I storm off, headed in the direction of the garden to get some air. I don’t stop walking until I find myself sitting under the willow tree that Mira and I love so much. She’s always loved it here. 

Maybe Mira’s right—I don't know if it's such a great idea to be with someone whose mother thinks of them like mine does about her. Fuck, this is so unfair. Regardless, Mother’s getting what she wants. Us not together. 

Quiet footsteps approach me. Not now, please. I can’t argue with Mother anymore. 

“The woman you love, huh?”

“Mira,” I say, happiness evident in my voice. “Hi.” She smiles, holding her hands behind her back before she walks closer to me. “Um…” She sticks her hand out for me to grab and helps me to my feet. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” she says but I wouldn’t care if she were to be honest. “I was getting some water from the kitchen and overheard.” 

“Mira…” I say, an undeniable smile spreading across my face, my hands running down her arms, wrapping around her waist to bring her closer. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Why’s that?” She asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’m always happy to see you,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to hear what she said about you.” She shakes her head. “I do by the way,” I say. “I love you.”

“Fucking finally,” she whispers before reaching her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her, crashing her lips into mine. They move over each other passionately. She tastes so fucking delicious. She feels so fucking warm. She smells so fucking good. “Oh, I love you too,” she giggles, breaking the kiss. “Sorry, I should’ve said it sooner.”

“I love you too too,” I say between kisses. “So much. You have no idea.” She looks so sweet. “I guess we should probably talk about—”

Shaking her head, she says, “Not yet. Let’s just—” She gives me another deep kiss. “We can think about that later, okay?” I nod and press my lips to hers again. 

Everything is so perfect. The way her laugh echoes in my ear like nothing could ever go wrong, the way her body slowly but sensually grinds against my own, the way we know we love each other and can finally say it out loud, even if we don’t know what the future holds for us. 

Breaking the kiss gently, she’s absolutely stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as gorgeous as her. I brush my thumb across her eyebrow and say matter-of-factly, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “So are you.”

The air shifts. We’re alone and we’re hyper aware of that fact. I doubt anyone could even hear us. Our eyelids get heavy as we lean into each other, our lips touching in a fiery kiss that leaves me needing more. Holding her cheek in my hand, it grows deeper and hotter until a tiny moan leaves her mouth. “Fuck,” she says under her breath. “You’re such a good kisser.”

“That’s all you, baby,” I say, sliding my hand down to squeeze her amazing ass. 

“Yeonjun,” she whines. “You can’t tell me you love me and then not immediately fuck me.” 

“I can’t even imagine doing such a thing,” I chuckle.

“You think…” she glances behind her. “Think we can sneak into your room together?”

“Absolutely.”

Walking back to the castle makes us all the more giddy. Hands touching each other playfully, giggling and flirting in hushed tones all the way back to my room where I lead her to my bed. 

Landing on top of her, she’s so pretty. Covering every inch of her bare skin with kisses, I can’t stop whispering compliments to her. Real compliments I’ve always wanted to say. 

You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky I get to love you. I love every inch of you and I’m gonna show how much I mean it. 

“Please, Jjun, I need you.”

“You know I need to taste you first, though, right?”

“Of course.” She lets me slip her sweatpants off her legs, the cool air making goosebumps prick her skin. Her maroon thong is so sexy. Desperately moving her thong to the side, I take a deep breath, wanting to take my time with her. Letting go of her thong, it snaps back into place, covering her back up. I press my lips to her tummy, peppering her with soft and slow kisses. 

“So perfect,” I whisper against her skin. And I mean it. Every time I say it. “I could worship your body for hours.” 

“We’ve got time, my love.” 

All I know is by the time I’m done covering her body in kisses, the sun has completely set and she’s illuminated only by the lamp on my bedside table. But I can absolutely still see how beautiful she is. I could see her beauty in the pitch black. 

“Yeonjun,” she starts, pulling me up to look her in the eyes. She brushes some of my hair back and says, “Whatever happens after this, I want you to know—” I start to protest. What does she mean? I know what’s gonna happen after this. We’re gonna find a way to be together. “I want you to know that I love you, okay?”

“Mira…I love you too.”

“Just know that…” she takes a deep breath. “I’m yours.”

I give her a long, lingering kiss and say, “And I’m yours.”  

@aduh0308 request a tag :)

[cyberclouddream]

What Recharges or Motivates Us

What to do if you feel unmotivated or drained. Based primarily on Sun placements, but can also apply to Venus, Mars, or Jupiter if strong, along with Chart Ruler. Also look for the houses where you have Aries [ inspiration ], Taurus [ comfort ], Scorpio [ rebirth ], and Sagittarius [ adventure ].

Through the Signs

Aries

- engage in a competitive activity, like sports or games that gets your blood pumping

- tackle a quick, challenging task, like a workout, difficult puzzle, hiking, cycling, or running

- spend more time in the sun and other natural light, like candles or bonfires

- leading others, like leading a group project or initiative

- take a spontaneous trip or adventure, exploring nearby towns or new places

- do a hands-on activity, like a DIY or home improvement project

- take a class or workshop you always wanted to try, like pottery, cooking, or dancing

- engaging in activities that remind you of your childhood

More Ideas: try extreme sports like rock climbing or bungee jumping; pack a bag and take a road trip with a specific destination; set up a friendly competition like a race or game; create a playlist that represents your personal anthem; join a public speaking/Toastmakers club or open-mic events; try a martial arts class, parkour, or fire dancing

Taurus

- spend time outdoors in nature, through hiking, gardening, or simply relaxing

- indulge in sensory experiences, through cooking your favorite meal, taking a bath, or lighting aromatic candles

- treat yourself to a self-care day, like a massage, facial, or luxurious bath to reconnect with the body

- rearranging or redecorating your safe space, like adding plants or artwork

- listen to music, like uplifting or calming tunes that boost your mood or energy

- engage in creative hobbies, like painting, pottery, or crafting

- cooking or baking, since the process of preparing food can be therapeutic or satisfying to them

- gentle forms of physical movement, like yoga, dancing, or tai chi

- mindfulness practices, like meditation or deep breathing

- spending quality time with loved ones, like close friends, family, or animal companions

More Ideas: visit a local farmer’s market, experiment with cooking a new cuisine; take a worship in pottery or candle-making; host a wine and cheese testing; visit local artisan shops or craft markets; explore local flora or take up a nature identification project; host a themed dinner party; use more vibrant colors, fragrant herbs, or unique textures when cooking

Gemini

- organize a gathering with friends or participate in a social event

- explore new ideas, through trying a new book, podcast, or documentary

- plan a short trip or spontaneous outing to a new location

- participate in group activities, like joining a club, workshop, or class, like a writing group, art class, or dance lesson

- trying different hobbies, like crafting or playing a musical instrument

- take a short social media break, to calm mental chatter and focus on more fulfilling tasks

- host a themed movie or game night, like inviting friends over for a movie marathon or game night to combine entertainment with socializing

- try guided meditations

More Ideas: take a quick-paced online course on a random subject that interests them; join an improv class; go on a themed trip, like visiting a historical landmark or art installations; write a short story or poem based on a random word generator; host an online discussion group on an eclectic topic; try VR experiences that offer adventure or learning opportunities; host a trivia night; create a collaborative story where others contribute paragraphs; participate in a flash mob; join a local debate club

Cancer

- spend time at home or in a cozy and comforting environment, and even declutter or redecorate

- engage in nurturing activities, like cooking a favorite meal or baking something comforting

- spend quality time with family or close friends

- practice self-care routines, like taking a long bath, practicing skincare, or enjoying a good book

- artistic outlets, like painting, crafting, or writing

- nature walks, especially near water, like lakes, rivers, or the ocean

- journal, to write down thoughts or feelings to help bring clarity to process emotions

- volunteer or help others, since acts of kindness are fulfilling

More Ideas: curate a playlist that represents current feelings and listen to it while journaling; setup a home sanctuary with blankets, pillows, or favorite items; try art therapy as a form of emotional expression; create a scrapbook or photo album full of cherished memories; cook a dish from childhood; host a memory sharing night with friends or family; create a comfort box with things like favorite books, scented candles, photos, or treats; plant a healing garden

Leo

- expressing through art, like painting, dancing, or acting

- host a social gathering, like organizing a party or get-together with friends, since they like being the center of attention and sharing their energy

- engage in a physical activity, like a fun workout, dance class, or group fitness session

- pamper yourself, like having a spa day, try a new hairstyle, or going shopping to make your feel great

- leading a project at work or a group setting

- surrounding themselves with positivity, like curating a playlist or watching uplifting movies

- trying a new hobby that challenges them, like photography, writing, or playing an instrument

- connecting with nature, like a botanical garden or beach

- practicing gratitude, like writing down things they appreciate

More Ideas: dress up as a favorite character or icon for the day; write a personal manifesto of their goals, dreams, and values; host a talent show with friends and family; volunteer to mentor others and share skills; have a solo dance party at home or wherever they feel free, like nature; enroll in local acting or improv class; create a personal website; plan a photoshoot; attend a live performance; establish a celebration ritual for achievements big or small

Virgo

- spend time tidying up, like cleaning and organizing their environment

- going for a nature walk or hike, to ground and reconnect with surroundings

- create a to-do list, like writing down tasks and goals to have a clear plan

- try a craft or DIY project, like gardening, artisan crafts, or home improvement

- cook a healthy and nourishing me that focuses on healthy ingredients

- taking a break from screens and social media to reduce mental chatter and focus on priorities and passions

- read for pleasure, like a book or audiobook, listening to a story that can provide an escape and stimulate the mind

- volunteer or help others, like community service or lending a hand to someone in need

- practice self-care, like a bath, yoga, or quiet evening with a favorite movie to recharge emotional and physical energy

More Ideas: create a personal wellness day with yoga, healthy cooking, and meditation; go outside and journal about the sights, sounds, and feelings they experience in nature; organize a workshop where everyone teaches each other something they’re good at; craft a detailed vision board outlining goals and aspirations; organize or join a nature clean-up event; join a book club; attend a cooking class

Libra

- cultivate aesthetic spaces, like redecorate or rearrange a living space to create a more visually pleasing environment

- spend time with friends or loved ones

- visit art galleries or museums to immerse in art or culture

- practice self-care like a spa treatment or skincare ritual

- try yoga or pilates

- listen to uplifting music, like creating a playlist of favorite songs or explore new genres

- try hands-on creative activities, like painting, crafting, or fashion design

- ensuring they have a balance of social time and solitude to recharge effectively

- seek out beauty and inspiration, like botanical gardens, floral shops, or scenic views

More Ideas: curate a playlist that evokes peace and balance while engaging in calming activities; host a themed potluck dinner where everyone brings dishes from different cultures; explore Feng Shui and rearrange living space based on the principles; color mandala designs or use adult coloring books; participate in a dance class like salsa or ballroom; join or create a group where people discuss philosophical ideas, art, and ethics; spend a week experimenting with different fashion styles

Scorpio

- engage in intense workouts, like martial arts, kickboxing, or dance

- try self-reflection through journaling or meditation

- connect with nature, especially near water

- transforming their space to reflect their current emotional state or desires

- engage in creative outlets like painting, writing poetry, or playing music

- incorporate mindfulness practices, like deep breathing or yoga to center themselves

- delve into mystical practices, line astrology, tarot, numerology, divination, or the craft

- plan a personal retreat, like a weekend getaway or a day of solitude at home

- volunteer for causes they care about, like community service or activism that aligns with values

More Ideas: try shadow work journaling about fears, desires, and emotions to explore depths of psyche; stimulate senses through aromatherapy, candle-making, or visiting a sensory deprivation tank; create a mystery box full of random things and challenge themselves to craft a story or project around items; take a weekend away to a secluded location for introspection and reconnecting with themselves; explore darker-themed artists or galleries; create a personal tarot deck; try intuitive cooking, as in without strict recipes

Sagittarius

- plan a spontaneous trip, like a weekend getaway or a trip to a nearby city or nature spot

- engage in outdoor activities, like hiking, biking, or camping

- attend workshops or classes, such as cooking, art, or philosophy

- connect with different cultures, like cultural events, festivals, or cuisine

- read inspirational books, like travel, philosophy, or personal growth

- join a social group or club that focus on their interests, such as travel clubs or book clubs

- practice gratitude to reflect on things they appreciate to reignite enthusiasm

- engage in physical activities, like yoga, dance, or team sports

- attend lectures, seminars, or discussions on topics that interest them

- take a digital detox to unplug and reconnect with themselves

More Ideas: start a travel journal documenting last adventures and future dreams; choose a random topic or skill to learn, like a new language or dance style; visit a cultural museum, theater, or festival to immerse in new perspectives and experiences; create a bucket list; create an accountability group; start a nature journal that documents observations about nature, seasons, and personal reflections during walks or hikes; join an outdoor adventure group; start a travel blog or vlog; participate in a poetry or storytelling night

Capricorn

- set new goals, like reassessing personal or professional goals and create a clear plan to achieve them

- engage in physical exercise, participate in strength training, running, or hiking

- tidy up living or workspaces, since they appreciate order

- connect with nature, like taking a walk in the park or hike in the mountains

- establish a routine that includes time for work, self-care, and leisure

- network and build connections, like attending professional network events or social gatherings, to open new doors and inspire ambition

- prioritize self-care activities, like massages, spa days, or quiet evenings at home

- learn a new skill or hobby, through cooking, a new language, or musical instrument

More Ideas: set up a structured personal challenge, like a month-long fitness routine; take an unconventional course in a field of interest outside career path; create a detailed vision board of long-term goals; create a personal development podcast about self-improvement, productivity, or career tips; delve into ancient philosophies [ like stoicism ] or classic literature that resonates with values; try minimalist living for a week

Aquarius

- try innovative projects, through art, writing, or technology

- explore new ideas, through reading books or articles on unconventional topics, science, or philosophy

- participate in social activism or community service

- connect with like-minded individuals, like joining groups or forums that align with interests

- take time alone to reflect and recharge to renew motivation

- try new experiences, like new acting, foods, or adventures, which can invigorate curiosity

- experiment with technology, like new gadgets or apps

- spend time in nature, like hiking, bike riding, or a picnic in a park

- practice mindfulness techniques or meditation to calm busy mind

- create a vision board with goals and aspirations to visual dreams

More Ideas: brainstorm creative solutions to social issues or personal projects; explore workshops on unusual topics, like improv, urban foraging, or alternative therapies; conduct a social experiment, like “random acts of kindness” challenges to explore human connection in a unique way; join hackathons or creative meetups that focus in technology or social change; use VR technology to explore new worlds or experiences

Pisces

- try artistic pursuits, like painting, drawing, writing, or playing music

- practice mindfulness meditation to center themselves

- spend time near water, whether it’s the ocean, a lake, or a river

- volunteer for a cause, like community service or supporting a cause they care about

- create a dream or aspirations journal to process emotions and thoughts

- immerse in music that resonates with their mood or inspires them

- explore spiritual practices, like yoga, tarot reading, rituals, or belief systems

- surround themselves with beauty, like creating a peaceful or aesthetically pleasing environment; add plants, soft lighting, or artwork

- spend time with loved ones, and share thoughts or feelings to provide emotional support

- take a break from routine and allow for spontaneity, whether it’s a day trip, new hobby, or an adventure

More Ideas: write a short story or poem based on their dreams or fantasies; partner with other artists or creatives to collaborate in a project to blend imagination with others; join a meditation or spiritual group to share experiences; try underwater exploration, like snorkeling or scuba diving; attend a sound bath session; volunteer at an animal shelter or sanctuary; create a collaborative playlist where friends can contribute; start a book swap; participate in a poetry slam

Through the Houses

First House

- focus in self-care and personal expression; engage in activities that boost self-esteem; exploring their identity; setting personal goals, establish limits that honor personal needs; explore personal interests and passions; find authentic ways to express themselves

Second House

- explore what they value most in life; educate and reassess financial priorities; find creative ways to utilize resources; ensure life choices align with core values; declutter material possessions; explore new income sources; cultivate gratitude for resources; work towards greater financial autonomy

Third House

- enhance communication skills like increasing active listening skills; build local connections; expand knowledge and explore new ideas; engage in stimulating conversations like knowledge exchange; embrace curiosity more; engage in puzzles, games, or brain-training exercises; blog or write to communicate thoughts, feelings, and ideas

Fourth House

- nurture family relationships; create a supportive home environment like understanding and improving family relationships; reflect on emotional foundations; connect with heritage and traditions; find comfort in solitude; design a space that promotes peace and comfort

Fifth House

- embrace creativity and self-expression; build or deepen romantic connections; explore leisure activities; try hobbies that excite them; focus on seeking joy and playfulness; explore various forms of artistic expression; reconnect with their inner child and joyful nostalgic experiences

Sixth House

- address stress and well-being; find satisfaction at work; engage in acts of service that contributes to well-being; find efficient ways to manage daily tasks; more regular exercise and nutritious meals; focus on quality good and being present while you’re eating food; create boundaries to avoid burnout; incorporate more self-care routines; gratitude journaling; integrate more therapies like acupuncture, massages, or aromatherapy

Seventh House

- foster open communication; strengthen personal relationships; navigate conflicts more constructively; build new partnerships; set shared objectives for growth in partnerships; engage in projects that require teamwork; engage in community more like clubs or community activities; practice gratitude for relationships; balance give and take in all types of relationships

Eighth House

- address fears and desires; explore intimacy and vulnerability; embrace personal transformation; let go of old patterns; delve into unknown aspects of life like psychology and spirituality; understand the importance of collaboration with shared resources

Ninth House

- explore different cultures, philosophies, or spiritual practices; question beliefs and values; pursue higher education or spiritual growth; plan traveling; define long-term goals; join discussion groups

Tenth House

- define career aspirations; reflect achievements and legacy; explore networking opportunities; enhance public image; seek leadership opportunities; cultivate leadership skills and confidence; consider what they can contribute to society;

Eleventh House

- nurture friendships and social connections; purse collective goals; connect with others with shared ideals and visions; engage in community involvement; work with friends on common goals; strengthen ties with friends and like-minded individuals; visualize future aspirations and dreams

Twelfth House

- explore spirituality; reflect on subconscious influences; address emotional healing; engage in solitude for introspection; focus on cultivating creativity and imagination; incorporate rituals or meditative practices into routine; address past traumas and emotional baggage; explore dreams through recording them; cultivate a compassionate mindset that acknowledges shared struggles and fosters a sense of community; find healthy outlets for emotional release, like through movement, art, or conversation

[yarmiko-art]

Your child is melting lmao

Gooey is pretty much kind of a shapeshifter and solidity of his from heavily depends on his mental state. Any extreme emotion can make him loose his grip on the body, so he kinda starts melting over. Most common nominators for that are negative emotions: fear, grief, shock. Being especially specific - something BAD happening to Kirby (pic 1)

Tho it also can be excitement or exhaustion. The extent of the body melting is fully up to intensity of the emotion

....And in a very rare cases, it can be anger

I rumble a bit abt DM biology under the cut

All Dark Matter are shapeshiters outside of the hosts. They're capable of changing their form since it's not solid from the beginning, but it can't happen purely by the power of will. Dark Matter's appearance very heavily depends on it's way of preciving itself.

Due to their nature being part of the hive mind, DM unit doesn't have an individuality in normal conditions - thus rarely any different traits. They might have some, but those mostly caused by environment and adaption to it.

When unit is separated from the hive, they start to accumulate more and more individualistic traits, gaining sense of self. It's a mix of "what I want to be" and "what I see in the mirror". If that makes any sense. More humanoid form, number of limbs and much more trivial traits like height are born exactly from that mix.

Gooey, growing up in Dreamland for most of his life, just tried to copy Kirby at everything, therefore perceiving himself as a child, growing along with Kirby. It isn't far from truth, cuz even as a DM unit they were pretty young. Haven't even figured out how to morph fingers yet (opposite thumbs are pretty usefull evolutional trait)