Humbly asking for GuzmaxReader headcanons if you write for him because I am Morosexual and I dream of kissing him under the moonlight
GOD Anon SAME. YOU GET IT.
Guzma Headcanons! 🐛
-Guzma may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but listen. This man absolutely ADORES you.
-That being said, be prepared to hear him ask dumb questions every so often.
“Babe? What animal is the Pink Panther?”
-He’s trying his best.
-Can’t cook, but will make small, easy meals for you. Expect lots of easy meals like Mac N Cheese, soup, and sandwiches. He knows you work hard, and even if he can’t make gourmet meals, he at least wants to help you relax and eat after a long day!
-Guzma loves his tough image and reputation. But that all goes out the window when it comes to you. For you, he’s a big softie. Literally can go from >:[ to :D after seeing you after a long day.
-Denies it, but brags and gushes about you to the Team Skull grunts.
-They let it slip the first time they see you.
“It’s them! Big Sib!”
-Be prepared to be tackled in a hug at least once anytime you visit. The grunts just met you and already adore you. If you ask about what he said about you, he just blushes and looks away, hands in his pockets.
-Plumeria teases him about it endlessly when you’re around. He acts like he hates it, but doesn’t tell her off for it.
-Is your bodyguard now, no exceptions. If you have him with you in public, he will make sure people think twice before messing with you.
-He’s especially tall, so if you’re happily talking with someone on the street, expect Guzma to be standing menacingly behind you the entire time.
-Is 100% willing to throw down for you. Just say the words and he will obliterate anyone you point at. Even if you don’t want him fighting anyone, he will just wait for the signal that you are uncomfortable.
-Jokingly is referred to as your guard dog. Until he isn’t by some unfortunate soul that tries to mess with you.
“GET YOUR FUCKING DOG”
“He don’t bite!”
*Guzma throws out Golisopod and starts walking towards them menacingly*
“YES IT DO-”
-Despite being known for causing trouble, he actually enjoys the peace when around you. From walks on the beach, to just sitting watching TV while cuddling with you. It’s some of his favorite pastimes.
-If you two are out window shopping, expect him to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your head. It’s a comfort for him, and he feels it places a claim on you. Anyone sees you with him, they’ll automatically know you’re with him, and he gets hugs. Win win.
Fake It 'Til You Make It (Guzma x GN!Reader One-Shot)
This work was inspired by @kentoszn 's Haikyuu!! post which ignited some repressed trauma and feelings™. The piece was lovely, and I enjoyed it thoroughly, but it got my brain churnin', and I had to write smth. This is kind of a vent piece and the experiences mentioned (not all the mushy comfort shit, unfortunately) are very real things I've dealt with. This is 100% gender neutral, and the reader's genitalia isn't mentioned. TW: the reader does have a panic attack, but big bad Guzma is there to help! It gets a little ns/fw in like, two spots. Hurt/Comfort and it's a little cheesy at the end. Feel free to give this a kudos on Ao3, I'd love you 5ever <3
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Something in your head, curling up and getting comfortable, tells you to hide in a corner. A sinking feeling in your chest that you want to go lay down and be still like an injured animal. All the while, Guzma pistons his hips into you with all his effort, love, and whole-hearted intentions to make you feel good. The thought that you’re wasting his affections and his time, all while moaning out but slowly losing grip on your sense of pleasure, has a guilty sickness washing over you. You do your best to ignore the overwhelming sense of dread that threatens to consume your good time almost entirely. You whine his name, rock your hips back into his with every thrust as best you can, his weight smothering you pleasantly and thick cock stuffing you full. You hold onto the now-fleeting notion of impending orgasm, focusing on his lips against your neck, but you know soon enough that your thoughts have all but turned that into a pipe dream. He’s been railing you thoroughly for an hour now, and in the beginning, you were thrilled; you’d been the one to initiate this in the first place. After subtle doubts had begun to consume you, you decided it was better not to ruin this. You were the one who had asked for it in the first place. You’d give him his fill; after all, he’s earned it with how attentive he’s been throughout the evening, and you could eventually fake your way out so as not to create an unpleasant or awkward circumstance. Then you could go back to curling up on the couch and finishing your movie night together as planned.
When you felt his pace quicken, you threw your head back, whimpering his name and muttering “incoherently” about how close you were, throwing out a feverish moan as the finale of your show. You were confident in your acting. Though it had only happened occasionally, this wasn’t the first time you’d faked an orgasm to escape the gnawing in your gut. The times before, your plight had gone unnoticed. Whether it be a fling or an oblivious long-term partner, they kept on until they’d finished and then continued about their business. Guzma was different, though. Where some wouldn’t notice because they couldn’t tell (or just weren’t paying attention), Guzma was always looking for something in you—searching for confirmation that his efforts, in bed or your daily lives, were living up to your expectations. It was a necessity to him that you were getting enough from your time with him, that he wasn’t disappointing you somehow because he valued what the two of you have, and he had worked hard to make it this far with you. He was addicted to your happiness.
It only took a minute before his pace slowed. You could see his expression, previously pinched with the pleasure of your heat and what Guzma had assumed was the build of mutual ecstasy, slowly fall away to something unreadable. There were flashes of different emotions on his face, each twisting your gut further into a knot. There was something akin to betrayal or confusion, then a flicker of insecurity. Eventually, he settled on a hurt sort of anger. Maybe because you’d essentially just lied to him, or because he was upset with himself somehow, you weren’t sure. Either way, he knew what you’d just done.
While you wanted to appreciate him noticing and caring enough about you to be able to tell, you begin to wish he didn’t so you could get away from this situation and the consequences you feared it would bring. He stops, pulling out of you and giving you what feels like miles worth of space. No longer is his comforting weight settled over you; you lie there feeling exposed, waiting for what comes next. The tense growl of his voice in the quiet room jolts you out of your fearful thoughts, “Why would you- Just- Why? Did I do something?” Guzma’s voice softens by a fraction at the minute furrow of your brow, trying to calm himself and his own racing thoughts.
This is the situation you were dreading. You asked for this, begged Guzma so sweetly while you were settled in his lap in the living room of your apartment to help you, that you needed him, wanted him to fill you up. Now, you were feeling guilty and anxious because your traitorous brain had sunken so deep into its thoughts that you changed your mind and couldn’t stuff your feelings back down and take it like the good, loving little pet you were. You soon caved to his unwavering expression of hurt, words spilling a-mile-a-minute in broken pleas. “No, no, no, you were good, you were so fucking good! I just got tired. My back cramped up a little, y’know? And-”
“Stop.” Your lips seal shut at the command, your eyes wide and alert to every movement, waiting for anger or disappointment to wash over him before he finally leaves you there on your own to sulk. You can’t help the sting you feel in your chest, guilt eating you further with every passing second. Instead, one large warm palm rests against your cheek, keeping your gaze on him and your mind grounded in the current situation. “Take a deep breath, in ‘n out. Then try again. Don’t lie this time, yeah?”
The burning in your throat suffocates you as you grasp helplessly for the right words to make the ill feelings disappear and bring back a peaceful atmosphere. The air constricts every time you open your mouth, and your first successful attempt to force out a sound is nothing more than a pained squeak. You choke on the pathetic noise. A sharp, panicked inhale is the only preamble to a hot tear rolling down your cheek before you feel an unpleasant heat roll over your shoulders, an uncomfortable itch up your spine that climbs the back of your neck. Instead of trying to explain, both hands quickly cover your mouth, stifling the first few sobs and turning your knuckles white from the harsh grip. No matter what you do to quell the onslaught of fear and uncertainty, it steamrolls you anyway. For a moment, Guzma is at a loss on what to do. He helplessly watches as your shoulders curl in and you duck your head to hide your weepy eyes. Before either of you know it, he’s scooped you up into his arms and you’re pressed tightly to his chest as warm hands rub circles into your back. Even if he doesn’t understand the whole situation, he’ll be there to help pick you up and put you together again.
An eternity of soft shushing and repeats of, “I’m here, it’s okay,” eventually settle you enough to speak. You shakily draw in breaths of air; arms wrapped tightly around Guzma’s waist as your hands grip desperately to his shoulder blades, face hidden in the crook of his neck. Your voice cracks on the first word, so you clear your throat and try again.
“You are so wonderful… I love everything you do for me, and you do so much,” Guzma’s arms squeeze around you in a comforting gesture at the words, but he stays quiet so you can finish. “I just felt kinda, I don’t know, off—no reason why. And I tried, I tried so goddamn hard to ignore it, but I couldn’t. Figured it’d be easier to play my part, take it and be good, make sure you were taken care of, y’know? Then I could ignore my feelings ‘til they went away and make myself feel better with cuddles and our movie ‘n all that.” You pause, getting your thoughts together to keep your heart from racing out of your chest again. “I started it, being all needy ‘n shit. I couldn’t just “nope” out halfway through, but I didn’t wanna tell you I wasn’t feeling it, so I just went along until I could deal with my dumb, sad brain on my own.”
The sigh that escapes his lips is both affectionate and exasperated like he doesn’t know what to do with you, but he couldn’t possibly give you up. “Aight, you need to listen closely, and don’t you dare forget what ’m boutta say,” Guzma grabs your chin, bringing your head back enough to look him in the eyes. “You own your body. If ya change your mind about anything, say so. I have no right ta make a fuss, ain’t got no place to be tellin’ you ta get over it, nothin’.” He plants a forceful kiss on the crown of your head like he’s trying to press his feelings into you with a well-placed smooch. It’s enough to pull a laugh out of you.
“I love you, stupid. Don’t think for even a moment that I’d rather have half-assed sex than to know you’re feelin’ alright. I don’t care if we’re goin’ all out on a holiday, ‘r if you blew me ‘n begged on your knees five minutes before. You’re mine, ‘n I’m supposed to take care of ya. Can’t do that if ya don’t tell me what you need. ‘n if that means stoppin’ and goin’ to get cocoa, cause you don’t feel safe or you ain’t in the right headspace, tha’s fine.” You feel a flurry of aggressive pecks to the top of your head before he pauses. “What made ya’ think like that in the first place?”
You contemplate for a moment, recalling every unpleasant scenario that led to the plague of thoughts that brought you to this point. From a rebound one-night-stand that left you with twenty minutes of shitty sex, unfinished and unsatisfied, paired with a $180 hotel bill, to years of a relationship where you never felt desirable, and your partner really didn’t know what they were doing despite your attempts at communication, the list dragged on. You mumble out, ashamed of yourself for some reason and not of the list of fools you’d had the misfortune of being with earlier in life, “Bad sex, feeling unwanted, and being used as a glorified cum-dumpster, I guess.”
You hear a disappointed ‘tsk’ at your comment, Guzma shaking his head before meeting your eyes again. “Letting you know now, I will absolutely fucking destroy anyone who’s ever made ya feel like that, ‘n I do want names. Also, they were idiots, if that wasn’t obvious enough already. Lucky for you, I got common sense.”
“Most of the time.” The hand that ruffles your hair in retaliation holds nothing but love for you, and you smile despite eating a few tousled strands in the process.
Guzma dramatically clears his throat before continuing, “Hush you, now lemme dote on ya for a minute.” His hands run along your skin slowly, like he’s appraising fine jewelry, and you feel a comfortable warmth settle in the confines of your chest as you hug him tighter. “I want you when ya wake up with a bird’s nest on your head in the mornin’, ‘n I want ya when your legs are all prickly ‘cause you haven’t shaved in three weeks. I want ya with your eye bags from pullin’ all-nighters and when you run around in the clothes ya stole from me. I wanna hear every goofy lil’ thing you say, and I never wanna miss the dumb baby voice you use when yer talkin’ to pokemon. I want all your time, day ‘n night, and every second between. So don’t ever hide your thoughts from me, ya hear?”
Guzma’s only warning is a puppy-eyed pout before you launch your entangled forms backward to lay on his chest and smatter his face in kisses. For a while, you both lay there. A comfortable silence settles over the room while you enjoy the calm after the storm. What feels like hours amounts to roughly twenty minutes, but you both relish it either way. Eventually, you realize you’ve spent the better half of your night naked and sobbing, so you poke your loving boyfriend’s side. Guzma takes a moment to look at you consideringly, fond eyes roaming over your relaxed expression and wild hair before he seems to read your mind. “Wanna finish the movie ‘n order pizza? I want some TLC from my Cutiefly.” The slow, sweet kiss you give him is all the response he needs before Guzma slips on boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He pulls a discarded hoodie of his from your bedroom floor and tugs it over your raised arms, giving you a playful kiss when your head pops through the neck hole. Once you’re carried like royalty and seated in his lap on the living room couch, you press play on the remote and enjoy a relaxing evening, feeling much closer to Guzma than before.
I dunno if the relevant people will see this but I’m going to reread and rewrite “An Otherworldly Lust; But for what?” and “Where the Day was Night and the Night was Day”
So if you read either of these and were bummed I haven’t updated, get excited. They’re both Guzma x Reader/Main character OC (not to be mistaken with canon Moon, the protag) and fairly angsty with adult themes like drug use, etc. It's nsfw but my writing abilities in this area are dodgy.
The reason I’m rewriting is because I started the fics off with very loose plot intentions, and it ended up not flowing well - Furthermore I believe the quality rises with my mental health as I’m in a better spot than I was initially.
I’m excited to get these started again because it gives me personal meaning to create/produce and get feedback. If anyone sees this at all I’d appreciate you checking the fics out/commenting, on AO3. Thanks
Update: fic 1 is about a depressed trainer who uses Pokémon challenges to find meaning in her life, gets entangled in both Guzma AND ultra wormhole nonsense
fic 2 is darker and is about how you failed to save the world in the Ultra timeline and escape to the regular sumo universe to live out the rest of your days knowing everyone you loved is dead cause of you, but Guzma helps you through this and adventures ensue as you grow & move passed the tragedy
I'm writing a GuzmaxReader oneshot. Who would be interested in reading it? It will be a little different from other GuzmaxReader stories but it will be good.
Pairing: Guzma/Reader
Plot: With no where else to go you end up in Po Town, dressed head to toe in Team Skull attire. You’re unsure of what to do and just want to mind your own business and stay out of the way, but you quickly catch the admin’s eye and she brings you up to her room to tell you how things work around this place and what you can expect from the big bad boss, Guzma.
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, etc
Notes: MERR CRISSMASS
Part One
“Oh shit, girl,” you heard the man next to you breath from behind his bandana, his eyes blown wide as he reached up and ran his fingers through his neon blue hair. “that was bosses’s favorite mug, yo,” he said, looking between you and the shattered mug on the kitchen floor.
You had always been clumsy but when Plumeria assigned you to dish duty you never expected anything bad to happen. Putting away dishes was much better than washing dirty laundry, right? At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
You thought back to the moment before it happened, now realizing that your hands had been a little wet, and you weren’t holding the mug as tightly as you should have as you examined the crudely drawn Wimpod on it.
And then it slipped.
And now you were upstairs outside of your bosses room, staring at the door like an idiot. He had been gone since you first showed up and even though you had been at the mansion for a few days you still hadn’t met him. After the warnings from Plumeria about how rough he liked to be and the scared look on the Grunts face when you broke the mug, you were nervous.
You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No response. You shifted uncomfortably, looking behind you to see an empty hallway and a broken window that you had entered through. Who the fuck makes you walk out onto the slippery, wet roof to get to their room anyways? You turned back to the door to knock again, nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw that it had opened slightly.
You bit your lip and pushed it open the rest of the way, the old door creaking and groaning as it slowly swung open. You stepped into the room, looking around but not seeing any sign of your boss. The room was very… Messy, spray paint on the walls, disheveled bed almost in the middle of the room, and some sort of weird, makeshift throne that looks like it was covered in purple spray paint.
His taste in decor sure was… Interesting.
You were momentarily startled when you saw movement out of the corner of your eyes, turning to see the blankets that had fallen off the side of the bed closest to the wall beginning to move. “Uh, boss?” You squeaked out in confusion, heart dropping as the sheets rose up, getting taller and taller until they almost reached the ceiling.
“…B-boss?” You whimpered as the massive pile of sheets shifted and moved towards you. You backed up until your back hit the wall as you continued watching the lumbering pile of fabric come closer and closer and then… Slip off, revealing what was underneath.
A Golisopod stood in front of you, cocking its head and staring at you questioningly. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was happening. You knew this place was gross and they probably had problems with bugs, but this was a little ridiculous.
The giant isopod chittered, cocking it’s head back and forth and observing you, its feelers wiggling. “H-hey, buddy,” you said weekly, unsure of what to do about the giant creature in front of you. It rubbed it’s face with its smaller arms as if it was cleaning itself before moving back to give you more space.
Unbeknownst to you your boss, your real boss and not your weird bug boss, was leaning casually in the doorway, watching the interaction between you and his Pokémon. Most of the grunts tended to avoid Golisopod, and even Plumeria seemed a little wary around it. Not because he was dangerous per say, but because everyone around here seemed to be scared of bugs. Especially ones that stood a few feet taller than them and tended to stare at them with empty, lifeless eyes.
He was honestly shocked when he saw you step closer, looking you up and down as you held out your hand to his companion. Golisopod looked at your hand curiously, rubbing it with its feelers and making you giggle. If he wasn’t a hardened gang boss with daddy issues Guzma would have melted from the cuteness of your laugh.
Golisopod moved closer to examine you, making you laugh before yelping when it suddenly picked you up. “Ah! E-easy there, big guy,” you chuckled as Golisopod observed you. It seemed curious about the newcomer and examined you, gently moving your around in its grip to look at you. “H-hey, where’s my boss? Don’t tell him, but I broke his mug,” you said, laughing as its smaller arms tickled across your stomach.
“You broke my mug, huh?”
You nearly screamed as you heard him speak, immediately thrashing and squealing. Golisopod dropped you in shock, unsure about the high pitched noises you were making. You quickly sat up, blinking and looking over at the doorway.
You immediately felt your body get a few degrees warmer.
The man, who you could only assume was your boss, was standing casually in the doorway. He had dark clothing and was hunched over slightly, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. He was much, much taller than you and wore a proud smirk on his face, obviously entertained by your reaction. “B-boss! Uh, I- the door was open and I came in, I’m sorry-“
He ignored you, pulling himself off the doorframe and walking over to you, patting the giant insect on the head, eliciting a pleased chirp. “Ya know, you’re the first grunt that I’ve ever seen get close to this big guy, he usually scares everyone away,” he said, almost sounding… Impressed.
You pulled yourself up off the floor, fingers tangling together nervously. “Y-yeah, he is pretty intimidating,” you mumble, watching him stroke the bug.
“Now, about my mug…” He mumbled, turning to smirk at you. Your face paled and you felt your mouth go dry. “I-It was an accident! It slipped out of my hands when I was putting away the dishes, I didn’t mean to break it,” you said, Guzma raising an eyebrow at you curiously. He ceased petting the Pokémon, instead motioning to the doorway.
“Can you go stand guard and make sure no one comes in, bud?” He asked, not taking his eyes away from you as the giant bug chirped, moving out into the hallway before Guzma stepped over, closing the door. You swallowed when you heard the lock click.
“So, you’re the new recruit eh?”
He turned to look at you, arms crossed over his chest. You nodded shakily, wringing your hands together. “And uh… Did Plums say anything to you?” He asked, looking you up and down in a predatory fashion. You flushed red as the memories came rushing back to you.
“Uh- well, she called me up to her room and we uh…” You trailed off, Guzma staring at you in amusement.
“Ah, she gave you the special treatment huh?” He asked, stepping closer to you and circling you much like Plumeria did. “Was she your first?”
You swallowed once again, standing still as the older man circled you. “Y-yes,” you mutter, Guzma only making a soft hum in response before coming to stand in front of you.
“Damn. Well, at least that means I won’t have to go so slow with you,” he mumbled, looking you up and down. He shrugged his jacket off and removed his odd shaped glasses, tossing them onto a nearby table before moving to sit on his throne.
“So, you said you broke my mug?” He asked casually, and you nodded. “Which one?”
“It uh, it was the one with a Wimpod on it, Boss,” you said, looking up at him.
“Yeah, that one was always my favorite. Tell ya what sweet cheeks, since you’re new here I’ll go easy on ya this time. C’mere,” he said and you hesitantly approached the seated man, nervous but slightly curious about what he was planning.
You yelped when he suddenly grabbed you, pulling you up and over his lap so that you were on your stomach, resting on his legs. Your face immediately turned red when you realized what he was going to do. You gasped when you felt his large hand smooth over your ass, rubbing and massaging you. “Ya don’t have to count or any shit like that, and feel free to be as loud as you want, I like it,”
Before you could respond you felt his hand come down on your ass, making you yell and jolt in his lap. You instinctively tried to pull away but he used his other arm to keep you pinned as he continued spanking you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gripped his legs, crying out and whimpering at every smack against your soft flesh.
“Attagirl, you can take it,” he growled. You hated to admit it but you were more turned on then ever, feeling the warmth in your belly growing as he continued. You never really thought something like this would turn you on, you had no idea if it was the pain or the fact that Guzma was the one spanking you but eventually your whimpers of pain turned to moans and gasps.
Eventually the blows slowed and then stopped, leaving you a panting, whimpering mess in his lap. He rubbed your ass, making you groan. “Fuck, you took that so well,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand across your lower back before hooking his fingers under your shorts and underwear, yanking them both down on one go.
You gasped, squirming in his lap but he easily kept you pinned. You shivered when you felt his rough hands slide over your bare skin, rubbing and squeezing. You let out a high pitched whine when you suddenly felt two of his fingers prodding your lower lips. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, rubbing some of your moisture up and down your lips before pressing one of his fingers inside of your tight heat.
You moaned, biting your lip and pressing back against his hand as his finger slid in to the knuckle. You now felt his hard length pressing against your stomach as he slipped in a second finger, massaging your walls and trying to find that one spot that he knew would make you scream.
“Fuck, Plums was right, you’re gonna be a tight fit,” he growled, thrusting his fingers in earnest now and making you moan. Your nails dug into his toned thighs but he didn’t seem to mind as he continued fingerfucking you. “That’s it babygirl, keep on moanin’ for your boy,” he said, voice rough and gravelly.
You felt the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter as you thrusted back against him, not even bothering to try and hold back your moans. You were so close, just a few more rough thrusts of his fingers and you knew you would be pushed over the edge and then…
He stopped.
You whined in frustration, Guzma chuckling before pulling you up and standing. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did ya babe?” He asked and you whimpered as he walked over, dropping you onto the disheveled bed. “Shirt off,” he commanded and you hesitantly removed it along with your bra, bandana and necklace.
When you looked back up he was down to just his boxers, eyeing you hungrily. “I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin ya, girl,” he said as he crawled onto the bed, pushing you down and immediately beginning to suck on your neck, one hand reaching up to cup a breast, fingers pinching your nipple. You moaned, gasping and bucking your hips, desperately seeking friction.
“P-please, please Guzma, l-let me cum,” you whimpered, Guzma groaning at your needy tone and biting your neck, making you gasp loudly before you felt his tongue smooth over the bite mark.
“I usually don’t let Grunts call me by name but fuck, it sounds so good comin’ from your hot little mouth,” he said, moving up to press his lips against yours in a rough kiss, his tongue immediately dominating your mouth. You pressed yourself against him, wrapping his arms around him and gasping as you felt one of his hands trail down your body, rubbing across your mound.
“And look at that, you even shaved too. So nice and smooth for your boy, huh?” He asked and your body shuddered as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed across your mound, squeezing lightly before moving down to cup your heat. You whined, bucking your hips against his hand, gripping the bed sheets tightly.
You whined in frustration when he pulled away, quickly sitting up on his knees and sliding his boxers down. Your eyes widened at the site of him. He was much larger than Plumeria’s strap on, uncut and drooling precum. His cock twitched as he leaned over you, pressing it against your dripping slit.
“You on the pill?” He asked and you swallowed, trying to calm your breathing.
“I-I am but I’m almost out, I can’t afford any more,” you whimpered, Guzma rubbing himself up and down your entrance. “S’ok, we’ll get you more, don’t worry princess. Ya boy’s gonna take care of you, make sure you’re always ready to take his cock,” he growled against your neck and you thrust your hips against his girth, making him gasp.
He pressed the head into you, making you both gasp in unison. He spread you open with his fingers as he slid further and further inside of you, stretching you and making you moan. It hurt but at the same time it felt so fucking good and you couldn’t help but grind down against his cock, wanting him to fill you the the brim.
He suddenly surged forward, grunting as he filled you completely, your slick walls tightening and contracting at the sudden intrusion. You cried out, back arching as you gripped his shoulders tightly, holding on for dear life as your body adjusted to the sudden feeling of being so full.
He groaned, panting and shuddering with effort. It took him all of his self control not to just start pounding you into the mattress, but he knew you needed to adjust to his size. After a few tense moments you squeezed around him, making him growl. “Watch it, girl, you keep doin that and I’m not gonna go so easy on you,” he growled and you felt yourself gush at that, tightening even more.
“P-please, be rough with me, I want to use me, please fuck me,” you whimpered out, Guzma gasping. He pulled your hips up so that he was on his knees and your ass was in the air, pulling out till only the tip was left inside before slamming forward, driving your tiny form against the mattress.
You cried out loudly, stars dancing in front of your eyes as he developed a brutal pace, his nails digging into your soft hips as he pounded you, grunting and groaning above you. You cried out at every thrust, babbling his name and begging him to go faster, harder, deeper, use you to satisfy himself as much as he wanted.
Your second orgasm hit you by surprise and you cried out, tensing around him but he didn’t stop, continuing to ride your bruised hips, pressing you down into the bed and making you take every single inch of his cock, sac slapping against your ass with every rough thrust of his hips.
“C’mon baby, take my cock, good girl, just like that,” he panted, eyes closed in concentration as he continued rutting you. Tears of pleasure spilled down your cheeks, the pleasure overwhelming your body and making you cum for the third time, Guzma groaning as he felt you contract around him once again.
“Take it!” He snarled as he bottomed out, nearly bending you in half as he held you down, filling you with his seed and making you moan loudly. His hips twitched against yours before he slowly pulled away, gasping as he slipped out of you, some of his cum leaking out and dripping down onto the bed.
He flopped down onto the bed next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “Holy fuck,” he panted, brushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead. You groaned as you finally stretched out, already feeling sore from the rough fucking he just gave you.
He didn’t protest when his arm wrapped around you, pulling you onto his bare chest. You sighed in content and closed your eyes. You both lay there for what felt like hours before you tried to pull away, giving Guzma a look of confusion when he held you against him. “W-what are you doing? I never finished putting the dishes away..”
“Fuck the dishes, you’re staying with me the rest of the day.”
Pairing : Guzma X Reader/Female Protag(18+)
Plot : A late night visit meant to quell guilt doesn’t go exactly as expected.
Rating & Warnings : Mature, Abuse Mention
Is There Bangin’ ? : I wrote it, you better believe there is
Notes : OKAY, this is the first fic I’ve written since I was a wee bab of sixteen, so I am. A tad rusty. STILL. It was fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it ~!
Also, I have it uploaded to fanfiction, so if it’s easier to read there than on my blog, here is the link ~
It all makes sense. You knew that house on Route 2 felt … off. The way the old man spoke about his son. The dents and scuffs on the golf clubs that couldn’t have possibly come from golfing. And Guzma … How could you miss it? His hairline trigger, his self accusatory mantra, his obsession with proving himself. You had all of the pieces of the puzzle, you just needed to put them all together. A wave of guilt washed over you. Quickening your pace, you clap your face between your hands and shake your head. No. You shouldn’t feel guilt over stopping him, over putting an end to Team Skull. They were deplorable. They were Pokémon thieves. For god’s sake, he and his little gang of punks took over a previously inhabited town and completely destroyed it! Displacing hundreds of people and Pokémon alike, ruining their homes. No, the guilt came from somewhere else. It came from how you spoke to him. It came from how you treated him. Your anger carried you above and beyond the understandable level of disdain expected when interacting with the boss of a criminal organization. You spoke to him like he was trash. Less than dirt. Like how his father must have spoken to him when he was a boy.
You hang your head and press on. You had to be getting close. Tracking down Plumeria was not an easy task, and getting the location of Guzma’s whereabouts was even harder. She was angry you would even try to find him. To even try and speak with him. She had good reason to be angry. She was the ‘big sister’ of the gang, and that extended to Guzma. Still, she could tell you were bordering on desperate to find him, so she caved and finally told you where he was.
“It isn’t like you could possibly do any more damage to him.”
Her words bit into you, spurring you into immediate action. He was in a lone house somewhere on Route 17, not to far from Po Town. You didn’t know what you were going to do when you got there. You didn’t know what you were going to say. Every time you tried to make a plan of action, your mind went blank. You couldn’t breathe right. Still, your feet carried you forward, ever closer to your destination.
A soft rain begins to fall. Looking up, you see a porch light on amongst the trees around where Plumeria said he should be. Ducking your head, you hurry to the doorstep, trying to get out of the rain. You only manage to climb the first step before all courage leaves you. You were stuck in place, just outside the cover of the porch. The rain fell harder, beginning to soak your hair and clothes. It was a warm rain. Turning your face upwards towards the sky, you try to calm yourself. Bringing your face forward and taking a deep breath, you climb the rest of the stairs and knock on the door before you have time to think.
The door opens. Guzma looks down at you, a wet rat of a girl, turning up on his doorstep without notice. The surprise on his face quickly turned to anger. He opened his mouth to shout at you, but the words would never leave his mouth. Just before he could spew his justified anger at you, your body acted on it’s own. You almost threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his thick torso in a tight embrace. Caught completely off guard, Guzma froze. Your face was buried in his chest, breathing in his scent. He was warm, and smelled like cigarettes and coffee. You slowly raised your eyes to peer up at him. He looked down at you, his face betraying shock and confusion.
“I met your father.”
You felt his body stiffen, you feel his breath hitch, and then quicken. His face contorted with remembered pain. Remembered abuse. You buried your face into his shirt once more. You can feel tears welling in your eyes. You shut them, willing the lump in your throat away. All of the guilt that had been plaguing you came crashing down on your head. You held him tighter.
“I am so sorry.”
He seemed to understand what the apology was for, that you knew what he went through as a child. That you regretted using such harsh language against him in your few previous encounters. His arms slowly wrapped around you. Pulling you in closer, every curve of your slight form was flush with his. He curled his shoulders around yours, bringing his head to a rest in the crook of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, but it was slow, calm. His lips pressed against your sensitive skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh. You held each other for a time, the soft light of the full moon bathing you in a silver glow, the rain dampening the sounds of the world around you, creating a dream like haze you both inhabited.
Guzma pulled back slightly. He lifted your face from his chest with a gentle hand. Your eyes met, and for the first time there was no anger or hate in either. His grey eyes were soft. Tousled white hair fell just above them, further adding to the gentleness of his gaze. Looking back, you wouldn’t be able to remember who moved first. You wouldn’t be able to remember who closed the gap between your lips. But it didn’t matter. You were wrapped in his arms, pulled into a passionate kiss. He pulled away, cupping your face with one hand. The other grasped yours, beginning to lead you inside.
You followed him into the dimly lit room. It was a small house, just one main room holding the bed, sofa, and kitchen. The only light was coming in through the windows, as soft and dreamy as when you were on his porch. There were no signs of anything that he had in his room back in the mansion in Po Town. No signs of Team Skull anywhere, no signs of his most recent ‘failure’. Even his previously ever present hoodie was absent. Turning to face you, he leaned down to close the space between your lips once again. His kiss was soft, gentle, wanting. A side of him you never expected to exist, let alone experience first hand. His hands cupped your head, thumbs stroking the sides of your face. You reached up to entwine your fingers through his soft hair, bringing him in ever closer and deepening your kiss. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue access to your mouth.
Guzma broke the kiss. You were left panting slightly, and watched as he pulled off his shirt. The moonlight just illuminated his toned form. He reached for you again, this time nuzzling your neck with a peppering of soft kisses, the occasional nip. Tilting your head back, you made more room for his mouth to explore. Your eyes shut, and an almost inaudible moan escaped your lips. He must have heard, because the kisses he was planting on your neck became almost desperate. His nips became more frequent, and he suckled the skin he had grazed with his teeth. Pressing your body against his, you could feel the growing hardness between his legs. You wrapped your arms around the small of his back, pulling him closer, grinding into his hardening cock. Groaning, his hands made their way to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the small amount of exposed skin he found there. You broke away from his wandering hands and mouth, pulling your shirt over your head. The lack of a bra left your torso as naked as his. Guzma’s eyes ran over your newly exposed form, an action that seemed almost reverent. You were locked together again, your mouths caught up with each other, barely leaving room for breath. Guzma’s hands ran down your naked back, sending chills through your body. They found their way to your chest, his large, calloused hands massaging your breasts eagerly. His thumbs made circles around your nipples, quickly hardening them, coaxing a deep moan from you.
You were so dizzy, so light headed from want, you thought your were losing your grip on consciousness when you felt your feet leave the ground. Guzma had taken you into his arms, carrying you across the room to his untidy bed. He laid you down on top of the mess of sheets and pillows, and finished disrobing. You followed suit, the fire burning in the pit of your stomach spurring you forward.
His naked form was on top of you just as you had pulled off the last of your clothing. One hand cupped your face, bringing it to his for a deep kiss. You were caught off guard with how gentle it was, especially when not moments ago you were locked in a heated, desperate embrace. His other hand traced down your body, resting on your sex. He paused the kiss, looking down at you questioningly. You ran your fingers through his hair, and pulled him back down into the kiss as an answer. His thick, rough fingers ran up and down the outer lips of you. Moaning into his mouth, attempting to goad him on, you felt the fire in your stomach flare. He slowly parted your lips and slid a finger deep inside of you, his thumb massaging your clit. Your lips parted in a sudden gasp, eyes flying open as he found your g-spot with practiced skill. His mouth once again found a home in the crook of your neck, leaving your mouth free to make the noises he seemed to so enjoy.
He slid another finger into your warmth, pumping and stroking moans of pleasure out of you. His other hand had made itself busy with your breast, playing with the sensitive nipple. Grinding your hips against his fingers, it wasn’t long before you lost yourself to orgasm. You sunk your nails into his back trying to steady yourself, eliciting a grunt of pleasure from him. Once you were finished and panting, he pulled his hand out and used it to aim his member towards your soaking opening. He once again looked deep into your eyes, asking permission to continue. You gave the same desperate answer..
He eased into you, his thickness filling you completely. Once fully sheathed, he paused, making sure you were acclimated. You pressed your forehead to his, softly kissing his lips, reassuring him and urging him to continue. He started off slow and deep, as if to savor the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him. You thrust your hips forward, meeting every thrust of his with one of your own, sending waves of pleasure through your body that made your head spin. He was so thick, so solid. Wrapping your legs around him, you arched into him, urging him to go deeper still. The pace quickened. His face was buried in your neck, hot breath coming in pants and moans. You lost yourself in him, the world around you melting away until he was the only thing left. Grinding your hips into his, you felt a familiar fire well up inside you. Your walls tightened around his cock, and his breathing because as erratic as yours. Pressing his forehead against yours, your eyes met as you both reached your climax.
The last surges of your joint orgasm quelled, and soft panting filled the room. He pulled out slowly, laying down beside you. Your eyes never left his. After a time, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close and nestling into your chest. Running your fingers through his hair, you soon heard soft snores coming from him. Smiling, you cuddled in closer to his sleeping form and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off to a peaceful sleep.
Your eyes fluttered open as the early morning sun filtered in through the trees outside. Guzma had rolled over in his sleep, his back now facing you. He was still deep in sleep. You carefully climb out of bed, and put your clothes back on. You look back on his sleeping form, a kind of melancholy welling up inside of you. You tore your eyes away from him, and let yourself out of his home.
He heard the door click shut. His eyes slowly opened, and he rolled over to face the spot where you had been only moments ago. Sad eyes traced over the small indent you left in the mattress, still warm from your body. He brought your pillow close, trying to hold onto your smell, your fleeting presence. He knew you had not intended that this be a lasting engagement. How could it be? You were the newly crowned champion of Alola, he and ex-con and former gang leader. Maybe one day, you would meet again under different circumstances. Maybe one day, you would share a night like the one before, and it would lead to something lasting. But not this time. Not today.
He buried his face into your pillow, letting your scent fill his world one last time.
