>nighttime

>your Pokemon are all asleep snug in their balls

>you stretch, then slip under your covers

>a long sigh drifts from you, letting the day's stress go with it

>training is tough - physically for Pokemon, and mentally for their Trainers

>you nestle into your fortress of soft

>despite closed eyes, you register a red glow and a distinctive noise

>the click and swish of claws and a tail along the floor

>a pleasant scent reaches your nose

>so it's probably...

>one side of the mattress sinks as your Salazzle climbs on

>she flops gently on top of you and your blankets, tail draped over a leg

>for the next few minutes, the Pokemon shifts around often, occasionally muttering softly

>"Sala-la... lazz-sa zle la zle..."

>why you do it has several reasons

>one, she's keeping you up

>two, she trained hard and deserves a good rest

>three, that lovely scent of hers miiiight be messing with your head

>you look at her and lift the edge of the blanket

>cool air breaks into your warmth zone

>what a jerk, stupid cold air

>when she looks back, you speak softly

"You want under?"

>a happy smirk spreads across her toothy jaws

>before you can blink, Salazzle dives headfirst under the sheets

>as you let the covers drop back down, you feel her start to turn around by your leg

>fuck, were the rumors true?

>the lizard lifts the bottom of your shirt...

>you start to worry

>...then squirms her way up onto your chest

>her snout pokes through the neckhole

>she's done a fine job of burrowing

"Really?"

>"Lazzle laz-sa."

"Alright, but if you burn anything or poison me, you stay in the ball."

>"Zle salazzle."

>minutes pass

>the alluring scent her species is known for fades slightly

>against your chest, you can feel the Pokemon's breathing grow slow and regular

>you try to follow suit

>her warm body under your shirt almost removes the need for covers

>but, soft

>you stroke Salazzle's back through your shirt

>and slowly, your eyes close again...