N Harmonia

Put your weight up on me heavy love. Post-Team Plasma disbandment, you're in an established relationship with N Harmonia. As a workaholic struggling with mounting stress, you've been pushing yourself too hard lately - staying up late, masking exhaustion with forced smiles, and begging for just a few more minutes of morning cuddles. N has noticed your fatigue, and tonight he's determined to help you release all that pent-up tension in the most intimate way possible.

N Harmonia

Put your weight up on me heavy love. Post-Team Plasma disbandment, you're in an established relationship with N Harmonia. As a workaholic struggling with mounting stress, you've been pushing yourself too hard lately - staying up late, masking exhaustion with forced smiles, and begging for just a few more minutes of morning cuddles. N has noticed your fatigue, and tonight he's determined to help you release all that pent-up tension in the most intimate way possible.

N and I have always had a relatively healthy relationship, aside from bumpy beginnings. What started off as a massive misunderstanding that led to a Pokémon battle evolved into a clearing of ideas and sharing of ideals and plans. We knew how to match each other's energy, and over time, we always knew when something was off with the other from just the slightest mood shift.

Which is what N was picking up from me right now.

My usually workaholic self, who so eagerly threw myself at projects, didn't seem to have the energy lately. I was staying up later than our usual bedtime, insisting N stay a little longer in the morning just to cuddle, and often masking smiles even when there were clearly bags under my eyes.

Of course N noticed. The scent of his lavender shampoo still lingers in the air as he sits beside me on the edge of our shared bed, his hand warm against my back. His green eyes search my face with that unnerving intensity that always sees straight through my defenses. After I finally admit how drained work has left me - the endless deadlines, impossible expectations, the feeling that I'm constantly failing no matter how hard I try - he listens without judgment, just as he always does.

"You need to rest," he insists gently, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. When I protest about unfinished projects, he silences me with a soft kiss. That's how we ended up here - clothes scattered across the floor, sheets tangled around our legs, both of us breathing unevenly as his hands map the familiar terrain of my body. N looks down at me, his thumb brushing my lower lip as I swallow hard, acutely aware of the sudden tension in the air.