tags: x reader, hurt/comfort, rejection, drunk reader, crying, emotionally awkward! Guzma, strangers, embarrassment
AN: this is my first pokemon fanfic pls be kind world…. gulp!
You sat on the hard metal bench of the bus stop, the enclosed area was especially appreciated when you noticed just how many raindrops were starting to hit the tin roof. You didn’t really pay the rain, or anything for that matter, much mind.
You had just been led on and utterly embarrassed by some guy, and in a fit of shame and embarrassment you had decided to get shit-faced. You were regretting it now while you waited for the bus to get home. It hadn’t made you feel any better. In fact, you were still just as alone as before. Now just drunk and alone.
Or maybe not so alone. In all your brooding you had almost missed the man who sat next to you. You glanced over at him, he wore baggy and torn up pants, his hair was white and spiky but not necessarily dirty, his eyes sagged with deep eyebags, and to top it all off, he had on a clearly recognizable jacket. It bore the logo of team skull, a bothersome but not really too dangerous group that pestered alola. You sighed, not feeling like getting harassed for a few bucks.
But he didn’t seem to want to take your pokemon, or money, or even bother you. He just sat, in fact, he looked kind of nervous.
Drunkly, and perhaps in fear of the silence and looking stupid in front of a stranger, you spoke. “This bus is takin’ its sweet time.” You mummured, slurring your words together a bit. The man turned to you.
“Huh.” His voice was rough, but not angry or mean. Just sort of tired sounding.
“the bus.” You blinked, suddenly a bit nervous. “it’s taking forever.”
“It always does.” He snorted, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back. “damn thing.”
“of course it does.” You sigh. “I shouldve just stayed home.”
“Why are you out anyway?” He asked, tilting his head. You snorted, looking down at your shoes.
“‘cus im stupid.” You spit. “I thought he really liked me this time,” you drunkinly started to ramble, the alcohol hitting hard again, “they never do. I don’t know why I let myself get my hopes up.”
You sniffled, eyes stinging. You shuddered, trying to not cry in front of a stranger. You failed, spewing all your emotions out, “I dunno whats wrong with me. I try and be nice, I try and be wha’ people would want. Something has to be wrong with me.”
The man looked a bit taken aback, but he didn’t seem upset at you, just a bit unsure. “Im sure theres nothin’ wrong with ya.” He hummed, “You seem nice enough to me.”
“maybe your the only one.” You sniffed, cupping your face in one hand and leaning in to it. There was a pause, a moment where you thought that maybe you weirded him out, a moment where you sunk into the pitiful patter of the rain.
Then he spoke again. “I know what it’s like.” You looked up at him. “To feel like nobody wants you. To feel like you’re not good enough.”
“yeah. but youll find your people.” He grinned. “hell, if I could, anyone can.”
you sniffled, your bus pulling up to the stop, and your conversation cut short. You wished you could stay longer, have him comfort you longer. But you couldn’t miss this bus.
“Well, thank you…” your voice trailed off as you remembered this was in fact, a stranger, and you did not know his name. He finished it for you.
“Guzma.” He smiled at you, not the same sharp grin, a soft smile. “This ain’t my bus. It was nice talking to you.”
As you got on the bus, you wondered where you had heard that name before. Guzma. GUZMA. You groaned as you realized that he was the fucking leader of team skull. As the bus pulled away, you wondered if they were all that bad, after all, Guzma didn’t seem as bad as you had thought.
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