The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the electronics. The succubus lay curled on the couch, her tail tucked neatly beneath her as she rested against the cushions. Her eyes were half-lidded but watchful, tracking me as I moved about the room.

I glanced at the time, the glowing numbers casting a faint reflection on the kitchen tiles. “It’s getting late,” I said softly.

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t move, her tail flicking once in lazy acknowledgment.

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” I added, rising from my chair. “Then maybe call it a night.”

I expected no response, but as I stepped toward the bathroom, the soft clatter of hooves against the floor made me pause. I turned to find her trailing behind me, her posture relaxed but curious.

“Coming to supervise?” I asked lightly, grabbing my toothbrush.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as they flicked to the sink. The bathroom light was bright, casting harsh shadows against the tiled walls. She lingered in the doorway, her tail swaying faintly as I brushed my teeth, watching my movements like they were part of some elaborate ritual she didn’t yet understand.

When I finished, I reached for her toothbrush—the one I’d bought earlier but hadn’t yet convinced her to use. “Your turn,” I said, holding it up.

Her ears flattened slightly, and her tail swished sharply behind her. She didn’t move from the doorway, her gaze flicking between me and the toothbrush with obvious suspicion.

“It’s not dangerous,” I said with a small grin, wiggling the brush for effect. “It’s just for cleaning your teeth. See?”

I mimed brushing again, exaggerating the motions. Her expression didn’t change, but the annoyed twitch of her tail told me she wasn’t entirely buying it. When had I gotten so good at reading that?

“Come on,” I urged gently. “It’s important. You eat, right? This keeps your teeth strong for that.”

She huffed, her claws flexing briefly before retracting as she leaned slightly against the doorframe.

“Fine,” I said with a mock sigh, wetting the toothbrush before putting some toothpaste on it. “Guess I’ll do it for you.”

She didn’t resist when I stepped closer, though her eyes narrowed in quiet protest. “Open up,” I said softly. For a long moment, I thought she might refuse, her lips pressing together in a stubborn line. Then, with a soft, annoyed growl, she relented, opening her mouth just enough for me to begin.

“Good girl,” I murmured, carefully brushing her teeth. She flinched at first, her body tensing as the bristles moved over her sharp canines. Her tail lashed once, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes glaring as though she were enduring some great indignity.

“See?” I said, my tone light. “Not so bad.”

She made a low, disgruntled sound, her claws twitching faintly against the frame of the door. By the time I finished, her posture had relaxed slightly, though her expression remained as unimpressed as before.

“All done,” I said, rinsing the toothbrush. “Easy, right?”

She stepped over, spat into the sink when I mimed it, and then huffed again, adjusting the blanket draped over her shoulders before stepping back into the hall.

I shook my head, catching myself smiling after her.

----------------------------------------

“I’m going to shower,” I said, “Won’t be long.”

That got her attention. She stopped in her tracks and turned around abruptly, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket as her tail curled tightly around her leg.

“You’ll be fine,” I added over my shoulder, “Just wait in the bedroom and relax.”

The clatter of her hooves against the floor stopped me in my tracks. I turned to find her standing behind me, her posture stiff, her gaze darting between me and the bathroom door.

“You don’t like closed doors,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

Her tail lashed once, sharply, but she didn’t move or growl.

“Okay,” I said finally, holding up my hands. “I’ll leave the door open. No closed doors.”

Her posture eased slightly, her tail swaying behind her in a slower, steadier rhythm.

“But you’re staying outside,” I added.

The swaying stopped. Her claws extended and twitched against the blanket, and she tilted her head, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly.

“You can wait out there,” I repeated, “I’ll be quick.”

She stepped forward instead, her hooves clicking against the tile as she crossed the threshold, shrugging the blanket off her shoulders.

“This isn’t exactly a spectator sport,” I muttered, pulling my shirt over my head.

She tilted her head slightly, her claws retracting as her gaze drifted toward my chest and then the shower. Her tail twitched once, softly slapping against the doorframe behind her.

“I mean it,” I added, my tone firmer now. “Stay put.”

She hummed softly, a low, noncommittal sound, before taking another deliberate step closer.

I sighed, shaking my head as I stripped down and stepped into the shower. The warm spray hit my shoulders, soothing the tension in my muscles. For a brief moment, I let myself relax, the sound of the water drowning out everything else.

But the faint rustle of movement behind the curtain pulled me back into focus.

“Don’t even think about it,” I called over my shoulder.

The response was once again the sound of hooves against tile.

“Seriously,” I added, turning slightly. “This isn’t—”

Before I could finish, she stepped fully into the shower. The water hit her head and shoulders, soaking her shirt completely as it plastered itself to her ribs. Her pants bunched awkwardly around her knees, sagging as they soaked up water.

“This isn’t what we agreed on,” I muttered, bracing a hand against the wall.

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable as her claws flexed faintly at her sides.

“Come here,” I said finally, rubbing my hand over my face. “You can’t stay like this.”

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Her shirt was soaked, clinging to her frame in a way that made every sharp angle and ridge of her ribs visible. She shifted slightly, her hooves clicking softly against the tile as I reached for the hem.

“If you have to shower with me we're doing it properly, so arms up,” I warned, tugging gently at the fabric.

She huffed softly but raised her arms just enough for me to work. The shirt stuck as I pulled it upward, catching briefly on her horns before I managed to free her completely. Her pale skin gleamed faintly under the bathroom light, the raining water making her seem even smaller than before.

The thought made my chest tighten. She looked so fragile, so out of place in this sterile space. The sight made me falter for a moment, my hands stilling as a faint heat rose to my cheeks.

“Now the pants,” I said quickly, my voice quieter.

Her tail curled slightly around her leg, and her claws flexed again, but she didn’t move to stop me.

I crouched, my knees brushing the wet tile as I reached for her waistband. The damp fabric stuck stubbornly, clinging to her legs as I worked it down.

Her tail flicked once, brushing against my shoulder as I freed one hoof, then the other. The intimacy of it all hit me suddenly, and I felt the blush creep back to my face.

I glanced up briefly, catching her watching me with quiet intensity. Her expression was calm, her posture steady, but something in her gaze made my chest feel tight.

I looked away quickly, clearing my throat as I stood. “There. That’s better.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, her expression soft but unreadable. Then, with a quiet hum, she stepped closer.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “What are you—”

Her fingers brushed lightly against my arm, her touch hesitant but insistent. When our skin met, the glow of the runes etched across my skin flared softly in response, and the faint pull of her magic began.

“You want to feed,” I murmured, realizing it almost immediately.

She didn’t answer, but her tail swished happily as she stepped even closer. Her hand moved upward, tracing the glowing lines across my chest. Her claws retracted fully, and her fingers brushed against the soft curve of my breast.

The motion was deliberate, and my breath caught as the faint heat of her magic deepened. Her touch lingered, tentative but searching, before her hand began to trail downward.

“Stop,” I said firmly, catching her wrist before she could move any further.

Her tail stilled, and she tilted her head slightly, her gaze meeting mine. There was no malice in her expression, only curiosity and quiet insistence.

“This isn’t happening,” I said, my voice soft but unwavering. “I’ll let you feed on my energy the way you have been, but that’s all.”

She hesitated, her claws extending and retracting before she stepped back.

“Here,” I murmured, guiding her hand to my neck. “This is enough.”

Her lips brushed against my collarbone a moment later, the pull of her magic intensifying as her hands rested lightly on my shoulders. The glow of the runes flared again, spreading warmth through my skin as she fed.

The connection wasn’t as frantic as before—there was a rhythm to it now, measured and controlled. Her claws stayed retracted, and her breathing was steady as she worked.

She hummed happily, the sound vibrating on my skin as her magic ebbed and flowed. The warmth spread outward from the point of contact, soothing in a way that left me both relaxed and wary.

The glow of my runes faded as her magic ebbed, leaving a lingering hum beneath my skin. She pulled back slightly, her lips brushing my neck one last time before retreating. Her breath was steady, calm, and her tail swayed faintly behind her.

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension in my chest unwind. “That’s enough,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady despite the quiet thrumming in my pulse.

She tilted her head, watching me with the same quiet intensity as before. Her tail flicked once, a slow, deliberate motion that ruffled the shower curtain behind her, before she glanced toward the water still cascading between us.

I exhaled sharply, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. “Good. Now we actually need to wash off.”

Her ears twitched slightly, her posture shifting as she stepped back into the spray. She didn’t move to grab the soap, her tail swishing lazily behind her as though daring me to make the next move.

I sighed, reaching for the bar of soap. “You can’t just turn every shower into your personal buffet,” I muttered, rubbing the soap between my hands to work up a lather.

Her lips quirked faintly at the words, an almost playful tilt that made something in my chest tighten.

“Here,” I said, handing her the soap. “Try it yourself.”

She took it after a moment, her claws brushing lightly against my palm. Her hands moved tentatively over her arms, her tail flicking in uneven arcs as she tried to work the soap over her skin.

I rinsed off quickly, scrubbing the remnants of sweat and grime from my chest, but my attention kept drifting back to her. The way her claws flexed hesitantly against the slippery bar, the faint flicker of frustration in her expression when the soap slipped from her grip—it was hard not to feel a pang of something deeper.

When the soap fell to the floor with a wet plop, she let out a soft, exasperated growl.

“Let me help,” I said gently, stepping forward.

Her claws flexed briefly before retracting, and she tilted her head forward slightly, giving me silent permission to take over. I picked up the soap and worked it over her shoulders first, careful to keep my movements steady and firm. Her skin was cooler than I’d expected, the bones beneath her shoulders too sharp.

She stayed still, her posture rigid at first, but as the water washed away the lather, her breathing evened out. Her tail swayed faintly, brushing lightly against my leg as I moved downward, lathering the soap over her arms and sides.

“You’re thin,” I murmured, the words slipping out without thinking.

She didn’t respond, her claws retracting fully as her tail stilled briefly.

I continued working, the lather trailing down her back in soft rivulets. When I reached the space just below her shoulders, my hands brushed against the twin scars there—rough patches of irritated, barely healed skin where her wings had once been.

She flinched.

Her tail lashed sharply against my leg like a whip, the motion quick and instinctive, and a guttural growl rose in her throat. Her shoulders hunched slightly, her claws twitching as though she were ready to lash out.

“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, my hands freezing in place.

Her breathing quickened, and her tail flicked again, harder this time, whipping against the wall with a faint thud.

“It’s okay,” I added softly, keeping my voice steady. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her claws flexed again, her posture tense and wary. For a moment, I thought she might bolt—or worse, lash out.

“You’re safe,” I said, stepping back slightly to give her space. “I promise. I’ll be more careful.”

Her breathing slowed after a few seconds, though the sharpness in her posture didn’t ease entirely.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, my voice low. “But it’s just me. And I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her tail flicked once more, slower this time, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

I reached for the shampoo, holding it up as though asking for permission. “Can I finish?”

She hesitated, her claws twitching faintly before she nodded.

“Okay,” I said softly, working the shampoo into my hands. “Tilt your head back for me.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression flickering with faint confusion.

“Like this,” I said, tilting my own head to demonstrate.

Her ears twitched, and after a moment, she mimicked the motion, her horns glinting faintly under the spray. I moved carefully, my fingers working through her hair with deliberate care. The strands were rough and tangled, but she didn’t resist as I smoothed them out, my nails scraping lightly against her scalp.

Her tail swayed faintly, the motion slow and rhythmic, as though the attention soothed her. But the closeness of it all—the warmth of the water, the soft hum of her breathing, the faint flick of her tail against my leg—made my chest tighten again.

I tried to focus on the task, on the mechanics of washing her hair, but the memory of her earlier advances crept back in unbidden. The way her hands had lingered on my chest, testing the boundaries I’d set, and the heat that lingered now from her touch.

It wasn’t just her actions—it was my reaction to them. The conflict tugged at me, a quiet ache I couldn’t quite suppress.

“You make everything complicated,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than her. I hadn't dared wash more of her than her back upper body, telling myself it was because I didn't want to intrude and not because I was too cowardly to address my growing feelings.

Her tail flicked sharply, brushing against my leg again, and the faintest sound escaped her—a soft, rumbling hum that felt almost amused.

“Stay still,” I said, exhaling sharply as I rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

She obeyed, tilting her head further to let the water cascade down her horns and shoulders.

When I finished, I stepped back, grabbing the towel from the sink. “Done. Let’s get out before the water runs cold.”

She turned slightly, her tail swaying lazily as she tilted her head toward me. The faint quirk of her lips had returned, her expression calm but faintly amused as if she'd read my earlier thoughts.

“What?” I asked, grabbing the towel. “You don’t get to look smug after making this whole thing more complicated than it needed to be.”

She held my eyes just long enough to get uncomfortable as we continued dripping water, before she huffed and nodded, seemingly satisfied with whatever she'd found.

I reached past her for the towel hanging nearby, draping it over her shoulders. “Let’s get you dry,” I said softly.

I worked carefully, moving from her hair to her horns to her shoulders, down her arms, and along her back. The closeness was unavoidable, but I kept my focus steady, determined not to let the lingering heat in my chest distract me.

“You’re doing fine,” I murmured as I dried her sides, careful not to linger on the sharp lines of her ribs.

When I moved to her tail, she swayed slightly, the motion faint but noticeable. Her breathing slowed, her claws retracting completely as I finished.

“There,” I said, stepping back. “All dry.”

I quickly dried myself off with my own towel while the succubus watched through hooded eyes.

“Come on,” I said, motioning toward the door. “Let’s get you into something clean.”