Reincarnated as a Mushroom?

"Explain."

Sophia's voice rang out across the suite like a velvet guillotine.

Kathrine — flushed, swaying slightly, and looking like she'd just lost an argument with gravity — slammed back another glass of whatever ruinous poison she was using to incinerate her liver. She crossed one leg over the other with theatrical grace and lifted her chin like she was still the dignified representative of a noble house, not a half-drunk mess with a pulsating secret.

"You see, my lady," she began with the slurring poise of someone who was very determined not to slur, "I've been assigned to a two-week diplomatic mission. Out beyond the edge. Uncharted territory. No formal Spartari recognition, no military presence, no standing treaties. A... fertile system, if you'll pardon the pun."

"Ah," Sophia said dryly. "Empire outreach wrapped in interstellar flattery."

Kathrine smiled tightly. "Exactly. I'm to initiate a trade dialogue, and—hopefully—pave the way for integration. Or at the very least, establish stable relations."

Her eyes flicked over to me, far too intently.

"I want Irvine to join me. As a contractor. Freelance operative. Whatever term doesn't ruffle legal feathers. He'll be paid appropriately — as his rare talents warrant."

Sophia tilted her head, lips quirking. "Irvine came to this system seeking challenge. It would be petty of me to hoard him. No promises, but… we'll discuss it. When your blood alcohol content is not a classified threat."

She turned toward me. "My love, questions?"

Both women now stared at me, and I'll admit it — I hadn't expected this to play out so smoothly. This wasn't so much an opportunity as it was a surprise orgasm for my schedule.

"Well," I said, straightening, "yeah. Why me? You're a noble, right? High up the pecking order. Surely you've got a queue of muscleheads and psychic interns drooling for a chance like this."

Kathrine leaned forward, smiling in that very specific way that said "I'm going to use cleavage as punctuation."

"Oh, I do have options, sweetheart," she said, every syllable dipped in heat. "But this is a non-military engagement. I'm restricted to mercs and house guards. And you? You're a psionic anomaly — untrained, unpredictable, and utterly unique. You're a wildcard. And sometimes... that's exactly what diplomacy needs."

Her chest rose with the breath she took, and there it was — the angle. The window into a valley I was already familiar with.

"I do have… terms," she added, voice dropping a few octaves. "But we'll discuss those... tomorrow. When I'm coherent enough to seduce without falling over."

And indeed, she was starting to tilt — cheeks crimson, eyes glassy.

I opened my mouth to respond, but she stood abruptly, visibly trembling with tension that wasn't just drunken instability.

"I think… I think I'll go. Yes. I had planned to dance more, but—"

Her thighs clenched. Her breath hitched.

"I need to… prepare. Yes. Prepare for tomorrow."

She turned, unsteady as a baby deer in high heels, and made a sharp line for the exit.

Once the doors hissed shut behind her, I raised a brow. "That was… abrupt."

Sophia didn't even blink. "Mm. Unusual."

"Not really," I replied, swirling the last of my drink. "She's on Takot."

That got Sophia's attention.

"The stimulant?"

"The one laced with aphrodisiac," I clarified. "Judging by her body language, I'd wager she didn't know about the side effects."

Sophia's face tightened into a displeased frown. "She didn't get that here, did she? My suppliers deal in pure product. My den of iniquity is many things, but sloppy is not one of them."

I gave her a knowing smirk. "Didn't expect you to dip into the vice trade."

Her frown twisted into a smug grin. "It is a market. Markets are meant to be dominated. Like certain boys I know."

I raised my glass in mock toast. "Smart and stunning. Unfair combo."

That got a laugh from her — genuine, sharp, and just the right amount of bashful.

I stood.

"Where are you going, my sweet?"

I turned, already halfway to the exit. "Well, gorgeous... I also had the Takot. And while I could very easily make you my solution—"

"Oh, could you?" she teased.

"—I promised Kimchi a reward. And unlike certain redheads, she's not leaving me with blue balls and bad timing."

Sophia let out a dramatic sigh as I exited.

"Curses," she muttered. "So close to conquest…"

But her eyes had already wandered toward the club's mezzanine, where a particularly attractive patron had been nursing a glowing cocktail. Someone was about to become Sophia's distraction. Possibly dinner.

---

The elevator chimed open.

I stepped into the apartment to find Kimchi sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling like it owed her an explanation for existence.

"Hello, love bug," I greeted, already shedding my jacket.

Kimchi shot upright like she'd been yanked by invisible marionette strings. "My love!"

She tackled me into a hug — and then sniffed me.

Deeply.

"…You smell like cunt," she announced, with analytical clarity. Another sniff. "And your brain chemistry has shifted. Explain."

Rather than reply, I lifted her effortlessly — which sent a visible tremor through her entire system — and carried her bridal-style back to the couch, where I sat and positioned her on my lap, sideways.

"Undo this," I whispered, fingers ghosting over the armored chest plates she used to hide her more nourishing parts.

Kimchi obeyed.

Her breasts, heavy and full, spilled free with a soft thud of density.

"Have you been producing again?" I asked, kneading one roughly.

"Of course," she said breathlessly. "Since yesterday. Anticipation accelerates my glands."

I removed my shirt, not wanting it drenched, and began teasing her nipples — light tugs, brushes, pinches. The response was immediate. Milk beaded from her pale pink nubs like ice cream left in the sun.

Her breathing hitched.

A small moan escaped.

She was bursting.

I leaned back and pulled her breast into my mouth, sucking deeply. The taste flooded my tongue — rich, decadent, with a sugary sharpness that defied metaphor.

Kimchi went feral.

Her moans weren't cute. They were tribal. Her thighs clenched around me as she began grinding against my thigh. I alternated breasts, teasing one as I fed from the other. Minutes passed. Then more. My pants were soaked. My entire lower half was being baptized.

Eventually, I tried to pull away.

I couldn't.

Her hands had locked behind my head with terrifying force, holding me in place like a drowning man clings to driftwood.

Another five minutes of this — of her panting, twitching, moaning — and I finally broke free. Barely.

"I swear," I muttered, licking my lips, "I've drunk enough to survive a famine."

Kimchi didn't respond.

She just stared at me, cheeks red, mouth open, drool escaping. Her pupils were gone. Replaced by cloudy haze.

And I… had a problem.

A very visible, throbbing, Takot-fueled problem.

I raised my hips, pulled down my drenched pants, and aligned her soaked, dripping slit with my aching hardness.

And I entered her.

Fully.

One deep, uninterrupted motion — and I bottomed out. Her body sang with it. She snapped back to clarity with a choked gasp, wrapping her legs around me like she wanted to disappear into my skin.

What followed wasn't frenzied or feral.

It was slow. Deep. Loving.

We kissed — no, we melted — into each other. She rocked on me with hypnotic grace, hips rolling like ocean waves. I matched her rhythm, bucking upward in perfect counterpoint.

It lasted forever. It lasted an instant.

When we climaxed, we did so together. Shuddering. Gasping. Groaning each other's names into the sweat-thickened air.

Then silence.

Foreheads pressed.

Breath shared.

Hearts syncopated.

My cock was still inside her, pulsing in the afterglow. We didn't move. We didn't want to.

And then—

"Oh my stars, that was so hot. I think I came, like, four times just watching you two."

Kimchi and I turned our heads in unison.

Kiya stood barely five meters away.

Fingers glistening.

Grinning like a cat who'd found the cream. Literally.

Neither of us had noticed her come in.

Because neither of us had expected an audience.

---

Author's Note: A Heartfelt Message from Me to You

Hey lovely reader,

Before you scroll away or dive into another story, I just want to take a moment to speak straight from my heart. If you made it this far into my story, then you are truly something special. Your time, your emotions, your thoughts and those few minutes you gave me mean more than I could ever explain. Writing is not just words on a page for me. It is a heartbeat. It is a dream. And seeing you here means I am not dreaming alone.

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So please, if you enjoyed even a single chapter or if you want to see where this story leads, drop a vote. I am not too proud to beg. I am literally down on my knees — in my imagination of course — holding out my hands like a character in a romantic drama and whispering with puppy eyes, Please vote.

Thank you so much for reading. For caring. For being part of this journey. Every vote is like a tiny wish, and together we can make magic.

With love and a whole lot of hope,

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