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Just imagine how it’d be like getting sexually groomed to become this olive champion-ranked tomboy’s boyfriend, being reminded of her in every waking moment.
>daily battles, training sessions, nutrition advice, riding Koraidon together for hours
>constantly invading your personal space, rubbing her body all over yours
>always staring her eyes into yours closer than comfortable, with her giant freckled smile
>somehow knows every little thing about you, from daily schedule to every minute preference in women and fetish of yours
>whenever you’d battle, hang out, or even talk with other girls they’d suddenly get ‟urgent errands”
>always appear whenever you’re out and about, even when miles from civilization
>leaves you to ‟train” after battles, then sends you risque ‟selfies” ten minutes later, tailored to your tastes
>other kinds of porn would stop working from your rotom phone, as if you’d have bad internet sporadically
>this would go on for months, until she was all the material you had
>in school, you two become deskmates, always get paired up together for projects
>so she could barge into your house then enthusiastically convince (read: compromise) your mom how good of a girlfriend she’d be
>then invite you in hers where you’d be treated like a prince, pampered in every way you knew
>inviting you to the pool, the gym, saunas in Alfornada, so you two could be intimately aware of each other’s bodies and worries
>you’d wake up and she’d be sleeping next to you most days
>telling you that you could do anything to her if you’d won (then still going all out against you)
>even your pokémon would start having eggs with hers
>playing dumb and constantly asking you why you’re acting weird around her
>disappearing for a few days just to see how you’d miss her (and apologizing afterward)
>doing literally every single thing except asking you out
>And worst of all, if you were to ask her about it, she’d proudly admit it.
>Then ask if it was working yet.
Florian had no chance.
