It was rare for Lily to get turned down.
She was a clingy, affectionate, overwhelmingly curvy slime girl with enough charm—and mass—to suffocate a man with love, literally. Mirio was usually on the receiving end of her affection at least five times a day. And, to be fair, he rarely complained.
But today, something was different.
The cottage was warm and quiet, a gentle breeze blowing in through the open windows. Birds chirped. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft strips, landing across the kitchen table where Mirio sat, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. He wore loose, comfy clothes and had finally—finally—settled into a peaceful rhythm after an exhausting week of running errands, fixing enchantments, and getting slimed repeatedly by a certain clingy partner.
That peace lasted for exactly five minutes.
Squish. Squish. Slorp.
He didn't look up.
"Lily, I know that sound."
A soft hum answered him.
Then a heavier plop as Lily appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but her skin—which, in her case, was translucent, glowing slightly with a warm blue hue, and barely holding together in the shape of a dangerously voluptuous woman. Her tentacle-hair trailed behind her like silk ribbons, twitching with need.
Her breasts bounced with each step, swaying hypnotically.
Mirio sipped his tea and turned a page.
Lily slinked closer, her movements slow and fluid like she was melting with desire. She reached his side and bent over slightly, her chest spreading across the table, her face close to his.
"Hubby…" she purred, her breath cool against his ear.
He didn't look up.
"No."
She blinked.
Her slime trembled faintly.
"Hubby," she repeated, more breathy this time, pressing her soft, gel-like lips to his cheek.
He sighed. "Not now, Lily."
She pouted.
And climbed into his lap anyway.
Her entire body wrapped around him—legs coiling under his chair, breasts pressing into his chest, arms molding to his shoulders like a soft, sticky blanket.
"Lily—no," he said more firmly this time, gripping her waist and gently easing her off. "I'm tired. I've been running around non-stop, and I just want to read this book and drink my tea."
She stared at him.
Confused.
Hurt.
"Hubby… no love?"
He groaned, setting his cup down. "Of course I love you. But not right now. Please, just let me have one quiet morning."
She didn't speak.
Instead, her body slowly began to sag.
Her breasts flattened, her thighs loosened, and her tentacle-hair drooped like overcooked noodles. The glow in her core dimmed. She stepped back once, her arms slipping from his shoulders.
Then she melted.
Literally.
With a soft squish, Lily's form collapsed into a glistening puddle on the floor. No dramatic sobbing. No stomping. Just a slow, depressed puddle.
Mirio stared down at her, mouth open. "Lily—what the hell—"
The puddle quivered, a few sad bubbles rising to the surface.
She oozed away from the table, one slow inch at a time, trailing a faint shimmer of moisture behind her like a snail.
"Lily."
No answer.
She stopped near the corner of the room, behind the water tank, and settled into a low, half-solid state. A soft blue light blinked within the puddle—dim, slow, and sulky.
He stood up, rubbing his face. "You're being dramatic."
Still no answer.
He walked over and crouched beside her. "You're not… mad, are you?"
The puddle rippled.
He sighed. "Lily, I didn't reject you. I just said not right now."
A faint hum echoed inside her mass—sad and low.
He reached into the slime and pulled his hand back, sticky with gel. "You're doing the thing where you turn into a heartbreak puddle."
She made a small, slow swirl.
"You know I love you, right?"
Silence.
"I love your hugs, and your cuddles, and even when you sneak into the bed at midnight and smother me with your boobs."
The puddle blinked once.
"I just wanted to finish one chapter of this book without getting a full-body lap dance."
Another bubble popped.
He sighed and dipped his hand into her again, slowly swirling it through her core.
"You're my slime-wife. I married you knowing full well you'd never understand the word 'boundaries.' But you gotta let me breathe sometimes, Lily."
The puddle slowly began to rise.
First into a mound.
Then into a dripping, shy version of Lily, smaller than usual, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes watery.
"Hubby… mad?"
He shook his head and hugged her.
"I'm not mad. I just need a little space. That's healthy."
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Still want?"
"Always."
She paused.
"Now?"
He chuckled. "Okay, now."
She tackled him to the floor in a warm, loving, slightly squishy embrace, purring as she wrapped herself around him.
"You say no… but you still want."
He groaned into her shoulder. "Yeah. I know. I'm weak."
Her tentacle-hair wrapped gently around his waist.
"Hubby weak for boobs."
He didn't argue.
Because she wasn't wrong.