Naive and innocet young trainer who wouldn't understand what was happening from start to finish or a young trainer who feigns innocence to others, but you suspect is aware (maybe their aura gives them away), as they intentionally and repeatedly place themselves in compromising positions, in easy reach, and seemingly accidentally brushing up with surprising frequency?
[Note from future Luca, unfinished. Don't remember where I was going with this]
I'VE BEEN SO EXCITED TO WRITE FOR THIS ONE THIS IS JUST ARGHHGG. I LOVE THIS TROPE SM. TRAINERS EXPERIMENTIMG WITH THIER POKEMON BABYYYYY
Working with and helping my trainer grow was always something I had prided myself on. They were young, as many new trainers are and hadn't had the chance to figure out themselves in the world like pokemon often had the chance to on our own.
So I wasn't exactly new to my trainer's new feelings and behaviors, even if they certainly were.
It started with late nights and early mornings in our tent, where I'd wake to strange shifts in my trainer's aura, with them squirming in thier sleeping bag.
The poor thing, I'd try to offer my help, petting thier hair, pressing my snout to thier face to nuzzle them, trying to hold them close; only to be pushed away with a huff about how it "makes them feel weird".
Then these little shifts in thier feelings started happening more often as we traveled from place to place. In the middle of training, I'd sense a shift in the familiar thrum of determination, only to look over and see them avoiding my gaze, cheeks red. They started to avoid touching me after battles, saying that it was all "too embarrassing," even in celebration of our victories.
It wasn't until we reached the next city that I saw a big shift in this shy, avoidant demeanor in my usually driven trainer.
We'd been staying at a hotel. Not anywhere nice, somewhere cheap, in a district clearly meant for more... discreet stays then traveling trainers and thier pokemon.
They'd found a few magazines and dvds in the room— perhaps complimentary, perhaps a sign of a lack of thorough cleaning following each guest— but, I felt that shift again and they started to look through each, so very carefully.
I did my best to provide them privacy to this exploration, as any decent partner would. I kept myself busy by organizing our stuff, going through our supplies to determine what we'd need from the store before the next leg of the journey for another gym badge...
...but I'd be lying to say I didn't glance over.
Blushing and squirmy, they could barely tear thier gaze away from thier new stash of adulthood. Before long they excused themself to the bathroom with a squeak, attempting to hide a magazine behind thier back.
It was a while before they came back out, but when they finally did, they were flush, a bit shakey, lip swollen and red like they had been biting down on it.
"Lets go to bed, Lucario," they mumbled, only briefly meeting my eyes before bashfully looking away to put on pajamas.
It was when we settled into bed that our relationship made its first shifts.
Laying down next to them in bed, I could still see the way thier aura spiked and shifted with nerves, confusion and simmering feelings arousal. I tried to close my eyes, to ignore it, as any previous attempts to comfort them, to guide them through this had been denied.
But then I feel a shift in the bed, feel my dearest trainer scoot back to brush against me, thier movements clumsy and exploratory.
My breath catches as the seat of thier pj shorts brushes against the slit of my sheath and I have to bite back a growl, ears pinning back with restraint.
I crack my eyes open, watching from over thier shoulder as they squirm closer, a hand pressed over thier own mouth, thier aura pulsing with excitement and trepidation.
Not wanting to scare them off from this experiment, this search for relief, I allow them to move as they wish, staying as still and quiet as one can manage with thier beloved trainer rubbing against thier crotch.
The tip of my cock begins to slip from its sheath, catching against those shorts, a smear of fluids streaking across them. I barely manage to hold back a whine, breath quickening.
They gasp as they feel the tip press against thier pajamas, freezing for a moment, the spike of intimidation they feel almost painful to witniss.
But, slowly, my trainer manages to work up thier courage, taking slow breaths in the dark of the hotel room, before bumping thier hips clumsily back into mine, encouraging my cock to slip out of its sheath, pressing against their backside.
I can barely keep myself in check with this alone, but when they shift, allowing my shaft between thier legs, I can't help the growl that escapes me, nipping thier shoulder.
They freeze, thighs squeezing around my cock in thier panic.
Despite my frustrations, they don't make any further moves for the night, pulling the scratchy hotel blanket up higher and pretending that nothing is happening, all the while I ache between thier thighs.
