Guzma x Reader "Mima" 2
Did anyone else notice that Guzma’s Golisopod is a girl? I thought that was interesting.
Anyway, here’s part two to my last Guzma insert. I’ll be jumping ahead and flashing back as I please. Enjoy.
Well… Maybe he did “get it” after all.
What you had come to affectionately call the “impromptu malasada date” consisted of nothing but quiet. Blissful, lovely quiet where you studied the decorative placemats on the table and just listened to the others around you exist. It was nice, you didn’t mind either when Guzma just had to get a word in edgewise to break the ice. He asked simple questions sometimes that you could just nod to, but most of the time he just talked about other things, eluding a confrontation of what you had done. You would have liked to talk about it at the time though. It would have been nice to explain to him the first time that it wasn’t as strange as it seemed, quite the contrary, it was the only way you knew how to get the words out. Beat it out if you had to. Anything. It would have been nice to talk about how frustrated you felt.
But you “got it” too. He was trying to be considerate. Kind stranger. Thank God. A change at least.
Now you tucked away the placemat you had kept as a memento, stashing it under the bed while Guzma lay snoring next to you buried in pillows. Your malasada date, the motels, your father, all of it felt more than two years away. It felt like a century. Anxiety and shame had lessened in this time, you were still very much reserved and quiet but at least you could talk briefly without a stammer amongst the friends you had made in Team Skull. You’d even gained the courage to reveal your real name, but you were still willing to be “Mima” for them.
It was fun being Mima. Mima didn’t disappoint anyone with her reluctance to be talkative. Mima didn’t have to be perfect. Mima especially didn’t need to have a past that she talked about extensively.
For the first time in a long while, you were happy.
Rubbing your naked shoulders and shivering slightly in the cold, you returned to bed where you felt Guzma’s warm skin flush against yours, his arms snaking around your waist out of habit. This was a good place to be.
“Mmmm… Mima.” Guzma’s soft moan of pleasure echoed in your ear, his lips pressing against your shoulder.
He was always so clingy after the fact, even when his orgasm only lulled him to sleep it was always fueling a desire to be closer to you. He was especially like this whenever returning from an audience with Lusamine. Hell demon… There was something about you she didn’t care for, something about you that was distinctly threatening. Whether it was Opal, by now well past level 100, or your influence over Guzma, nobody knew. But you were resigned to the house whenever he had business to attend to either way.
When he murmured your true name, you shushed him gently as you would a baby, kissing his rough chapped lips.
“Sleep…” you murmur back.
“Can’t… You’re too soft. I want you. Come to Daddy.”
Rough hands reach and grope any area they can find. Your thigh is poked and prodded, good God is he hard, hot and ready for a fun time, but Guzma has to rest. Otherwise in the morning he’ll be unbearable. Guzma’s attitude can go one of two ways when he’s spent an entire night making love to you. One will be that the home will be his refuge, and you will have to share it with him. He’ll be clingy and beg you to confine yourself to the house, following you everywhere, begging in his hurt little way for you to stay with him in his room while he gets high. While it would be nice to spend a day inhaling the hits he exhales into your mouth, it ruins your chances to make some money to help the house’s upkeep. Your wealth is the only thing maintaining the house when Lusamine’s well of funds runs dry, and unfortunately your presence has already caused her goodwill to waver.
The second mood will drain your finances even further. You love him, but Guzma intimidates the competition away whenever he accompanies you in the operations. His large hulking frame overshadows your innocent little façade. His possessive grip on your waist freaks out the guys you target for Pokémon battles. Tourists of the male gender usually have the most money (especially if they’re attached to a young woman), and unfortunately they happen to be exactly the type of men Guzma eats for lunch. You need to work alone if anyone wants to eat in this house.
“You’re tired.” you insist, “Had to d-deal with that stupid bi-bitch today. Sleep.”
Guzma stiffens when the words “stupid bitch” come out stammering from your mouth. You notice it for but a minute, passing it off as stress at Lusamine’s mention then proceeding to rub his head affectionately. You don’t want anything to happen to him. He gets so worked up and tends to hurt himself that you want to ease his anger. But you’re determined that won’t happen while you’re around.
“Sleep baby. Gotta get up early. Gotta make th-that money for you, so you can eat. Don’t have m-much at home-”
“I don’t want you goin’ out tomorrow. You need to stay home.”
His head rub ceases, and his eyes meet your own. You’re confused, frowning at him as though wondering what in the world he has up his butt now.
“We need food to to eat.” you say, slightly faltering. “Can’t just exist on air. You g-guys rely on me.”
“You’re not goin’ anywhere tomorrow.” He insists. He sits up in the dark looming over you, his voice full of much more conviction than usual. “You’re stayin’ your pretty ass home with Plumeria, and you’re gonna let Daddy take care of everythin’ for you. Don’t want you goin’ anywhere gettin’ yourself hurt.”
“How?” you say, “O-Opal’s strong. Always take her with me. So’s Clove. Cupcake’s getting there too, she’s the real money maker-”
“Stop.” He growls. Now Guzma looks angry, more so than he’s ever been. And what makes this anger even more potent is the fact that it’s directed at you now.
“That’s another thing, starting tomorrow I’m takin’ that amulet coin a yours and givin’ it to Golisopod.” Guzma continues his sudden rage, interrupting the protestation you can’t manage to get out, “I’ve had enough a you tryna take all the bills on yourself, tryna feed everyone, exhaustin’ your team for pennies. That shit’s gonna stop. I told you, you’re gonna let Daddy take care of everythin’ for you. All you gotta do from now on is stay your lil ass with me and look pretty. Stop tryna take on my responsibilities for me and let me do what I need to do.”
You’ve never thought he would do it. That was the reason you had joined Team Skull willingly in the first place. Guzma had promised and granted you your freedom, he wasn’t supposed to take it all away. Being able to feed your friends and contribute was what you lived for. For once you weren’t an encumbrance. You took the place of asset. For God’s sake you were a fucking admin! An equal, like pretty Plumeria who praised you for helping get Team Skull’s sorry shit together in terms of monetary resources. How was it that two years of usefulness had suddenly caused you to be demoted? Unless…
“Th-that’s Lusamine talking…” you said, angry tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting the bedsheets, “Isn’t it.”
A feral growl pierced the dead silence that followed your accusation, the sound of rain drumming against the roof had deadened to a weak pitter-patter. Guzma got so close you were inhaling his exhales, and he gripped your shoulders so hard a whimper of fright came squeaking out of your throat. This turned into a crushing hug, a Bewear’s arms, and Guzma buried your face in his chest.
“I’m not lettin’ her hurt you.” was his reply, “She won’t get to you. I’m not lettin’ her do a goddamn thing to you… I’d kill her first…”
What in hell had she told him?!