Indigo

So this is gonna be a male POV, mainly because I wanted to write a dude. It will occasionally POV switch, but for the most part, it'll be on Indigo here.

Welcome to the erotic scriptures of a horny undergrad with way too much free time from the pandemic. This is more than a year old, and I did some polishing, but this is still my "first" story, though not my first published one. youdontknowme87, this is for you.

You're already bouncing off the walls from excitement, and it's barely dawn. Your 18th birthday was today, and after the party yesterday you tried, unsuccessfully to go to sleep. Seven restless hours later, one hour of which was spent working out to make yourself tired, another drinking warm milk, and you're still completely amped up and ready for your first Pokémon!

"Screw it!" You think, looking at the clock that reads 5:20 AM, "There's no way I'm getting any sleep. Might as well get ready." You get out of bed, rolling up your blanket into a ball and setting your Kingdra plushie on the pillow. You gaze at it warmly and imagine your father in its place.

"I'm proud of you Indy. You'll make a fine Pokémon trainer." He says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Who knows? Maybe you'll teach me some tricks." You meet his eyes, a mirror image of your own. They crinkle kindly, his age showing as the two of you look at each other. His favourite Pokémon was his Kingdra, which evolved all the way from Horsea. It was his first capture after a drunken night took him backwards to Cinnabar island, which he always said was his best mistake. That was where your mother utterly humiliated him, easily defeating his Charmander with her Goldeen. Twice, because he was an idiot. Then she helped him capture a Horsea, and their love went from there. Kind of a romantic story, all things considered. Your parents stopped adventuring when your mom got pregnant and decided to pursue research instead. They settled down in Pallet town and decided to kick back and enjoy life. He and your mom taught you everything you knew about Pokémon, exposing you to dozens of different species as you travelled with them all around Kanto. But one day he went on a classified mission to Mt. Moon and never came back. It had been three years since he disappeared, and there wasn't a single day you didn't miss him.

You look in the mirror, seeing a bright-eyed boy with milk-chocolate brown eyes, tousled raven hair, and an infectious grin. You flex your biceps, appreciating your tanned and toned 6 foot 2 inches body. Not quite jacked but not skinny either. You're in that middle range where you can call yourself fit. You have to be in shape if you want to catch Pokémon! You walk over to your closet, and stare at your clothes, deciding what to wear for the special day. Deciding on a black t-shirt with a flying Moltres on it, some ripped jeans, and your signature purple hoodie, you toss them on the bed and head toward the shower.

You pad down the hallways silently, trying not to wake your mother. She'll be up soon, but why ruin her sleep? You reach the bathroom and start to shower, dreaming about all the things you would do as a Pokémon trainer. Maybe you'd join the elite four, maybe become the Pokémon champion! You hum contentedly, scrubbing your body until you're sparkly clean, and the house is out of hot water. You step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and silently make your way back to your room, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind. You get dressed, comb your hair into something that doesn't resemble a rat's nest, and look in the mirror to make sure you're presentable. The clock reads 5:57 AM, and you walk over to your bookshelf. One more hour to kill before Professor Oak wakes up, and you get your starter! You can hardly wait, and the words on the book you randomly chose blur from your excitement.

"Plink, plink!" The sound of small impacts comes from your window. You set down the book and walk over, curious to see what's making that noise. You open the window, and peer out, taking a pebble to the face for your trouble.

"Ow!" You yelp, and dart back in, clutching your nose.

"Sorry!" A familiar voice calls out, and you roll your eyes before poking your head out of the window again.