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Maybe Branch Out From Bug Types

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Though Alola was pretty, it wasn’t exactly the paradise your mom had made it out to be. At least that’s what you thought as you munched down on a malasada. Maybe Alola was nice as a holiday destination but you weren’t sure how you felt about living there.

You guessed at least the journey there had been okay, windswept oceans and flocks of flying Pokémon to enjoy. On one of the online blogs from famous trainers around the globe you kept up with, you’d read about some bitch in Hoenn whose mom had made her ride in the back of the moving truck. Goddamn, some people.

But Kanto had been your home. You’d grown up there, beaten all the gyms, done the elite four. You weren’t necessarily well-liked but you were well-respected, and had eight shiny badges to show it.

And then, because you’d still been seventeen and, technically, a child, you’d been dragged to this new country with your mom when she’d decided to move. Now your eighteenth birthday had been and gone and you were sort of at a loss as what to do.

Well, finish these fucking island challenges first, worry about that later.

As if reading your mind your Charizard piped up, “char.”

“Yeah I know, Charlie,” you sighed (yes her name was Charlie, you’d been eleven when you’d named her, no stupid kid should be allowed naming rights at eleven). Charlie looked at you, shrugged as much as a Charizard could, and then took a bite of malasada along with a decent portion of the table. Before anyone could call you out on it you heard a commotion outside. You thanked the gods as you never intended to pay for any damage done by your Pokémon and hurried out.

That’s where you’d first met Guzma.

He was standing in Malie Garden, boasting about how strong he was. Anyone who run their mouth like that was definitely compensating for something. The professor - nobody that ripped had any business of being a professor but that was a conversation for another day - was trying to reason with him and talk him down, but looked relieved when he saw you. Kukui introduced you loudly as you sauntered towards the group.

“... she’s one of the new island challengers we’ve had, Guzma,” he said with a proud grin. Guzma looked you up and down and sneered.

“How old are you? Ain’t this meant to be a kid’s challenge?”

Ah, cute, you thought. He was trying to be intimidating.

It had no effect.

You opened your jacket at flashed him the badges you had pinned to the inside of it. The sunlight caught them and danced on his face, making him squint.

“Former Kanto region champion, before I got bored and went off to do other shit,” you said, zipping it back up again. Kukui cleared his throat and you remembered you’d promised him to try and watch your mouth round Hau and Lillie, who were standing to the side looking uncomfortable.

“Anyway. If you’re gonna trash talk me, be on my level first. Or at least have proper sunglasses, Guzma,” you sniffed. There was a vein bulging on his forehead. It made you indescribably happy.

You did, of course, battle. If you’d wanted to make it fair, or even have it be a challenge, you would have used one of the new Pokémon you’d caught in Alola. As it was, you didn’t want that. You wanted to stomp this asshole into the ground and grind him to pieces with the heel of your shoe. Two well placed Flamethrowers from Charlie and his bug types were toast.

He ended up on his ass from the… effort of battling you guessed? People who threw themselves round during battles tired you. So you simply walked over to him and placed a foot on his chest and shoved him down onto the dirt. His eyes trailed up your leg and eventually met your gaze. He froze, just momentarily, all the cockiness gone from him as he considered the position he was in. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite place.

You dug your foot in just a little harder and he bared his teeth, that mask of bravado back on.

“I’m done with you. Scram,” you said.

“I’ll remember this. I’ll remember you,” he growled. You removed your foot and watched him scamper away, some of his badly-dressed grunts scuttling after him.

“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” you muttered to yourself. A little, genuine smile crossed your face for the first time since you’d been here. You quickly wiped it away before anyone else could see it.

You’re not sure how he gets your number. Honestly, if anyone went digging, it probably wouldn’t be hard to find out that info. What you do know is it’s one week from that battle that you get the first dick pic.

It’s a bold move. You’re almost impressed. Either it’s gonna anger you to the high heavens, meaning in his head that he’s won this round, or…


You admire the photo. Artistically, it’s not good. The light is low and it’s a bit blurry but there’s no doubt whose dick it is. It’s actually not a bad dick. Thick, long. Maybe not the prettiest dick you’d ever seen - hey, you’d messed around with people before, it’s amazing the people your own age you’d met on the road back in Kanto - but still.


Another text comes through pretty quick.

wait fuck. how old r u

You laugh, look around to make sure you’re alone, hitch up your shirt and hold the end of it in your mouth. You didn’t wear a bra that day and your nipples perk up at the bite of cold in the air. You take a snap and send it back to him along with the tag “18”.

You put down both your shirt and the phone and go back to catching up on reading your blogs, but in ten minutes it buzzes again. You unlock it to see a pic similar to the first - Guzma’s cock, again, but it’s now softening in his hand as his come glistens on his stomach. Fuck, he’d hidden those abs pretty well under that baggy shirt.

Nice is the only word he uses to reply to your actual text. You look at the pair of pictures again. It’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, but… well. It’s up there.

With a shrug you decide it will do, and ride your fingers until you come starting at the photo of his cock.

You don’t hear from him after that, but it’s not that long until the two of you run into each other again.

Po Town is a sad excuse for a villainous hideout. They put far too much effort in for far too little payoff. It was all so tacky. Also you can’t be bothered to fight your way through the randomly placed grunts, and Charlie looks exhausted at just the idea of it, so you hop on her back and fly over them instead.

“Char?” Charlie asks, expectantly looking down at the Team Skull minions.

“Nah, Flamethrower seems a bit harsh here, maybe just a couple of Embers,” you reason. Charlie coughs out a couple of little fireballs down at the grunts and they begin to screech and scatter. It’s not like Ember will do much harm, especially not in this weather - as if on cue, a particularly hard raindrop hits you in the eye and you curse under your breath - but you and Charlie chuckle at the chaos you cause. She dumps you on the broken roof of a mansion Team Skull have taken over. The grunt on lookout shrieks and tries to run, slips in the rain, and falls off into the topiary below. She’s probably fine, you don’t check.

Guzma awaits you. He’s sitting on a throne, because of course he is. Still, you seem to have taken him by surprise. You shake the rain off of yourself as you walk into the room through the window. Charlie sticks her head in after you and glares at him.

“Hey. That the Yungoos?” you ask, gesturing at the pokéball sitting on top of a pile of Buginium Z. You saunter over to it and pick it up, then cock him a little salute as you turn to leave.

“Hey, hold ya mudbrays!” he shouts, and you hear him come towards you. You don’t let him see the smile you sport when you face him again. “D’you think it was gonna be that easy?”

He crosses the room in a moment, and stands right up against you. There’s only a couple of inches between the two of you now. You can feel his breath on your face and see the way his eyebrow twitches every now and then when he scowls.

“Stand up straight,” you state, and he does - just for a second before he realises what he’s doing and slouches back into his typical stance.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“You love it. Anyway, is there anything I can help you with?” you raise an eyebrow and once again, he falters. When he speaks there’s something akin to reluctance in his voice.

“Ya never… replied to my text,” he mumbled.

“I never…?” you narrowed your eyes as you tried to finish the sentence in your head. “What, the one where you’d jacked off?”

Guzma seemed uncomfortable. He nodded anyway, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze.

“I didn’t really think we had much else to say,” you stated with a shrug. “Or what? Did you think sending me a picture of your dick would start some lover’s tryst between us? It’d be so bomb I’d have to hunt you down just for it?”

To be fair you have sort of hunted him down, but it was for a Pokémon, not for yourself.

“You’re the world’s leading asshole, ya know that?” he spits, but his cheeks have gone pink.

“Oh come on, tell me you haven’t gotten some grunt to suck you off since then,” you laugh, but he doesn’t. You’re not sure how long you’ve been this close, but when you look down you can see the bulge in his sweatpants. And it occurs to you, huh. He really hasn’t had sex with anyone since you sent him your nude.

You reach out and palm his cock through his clothes. Before you do it was as if he was about to say something, but his head rocks back when you make contact and the little moan he lets out is explicit. His hands clamp over his mouth and he looks mortified.

You look overjoyed.

“Fuck me, you’re a virgin,” you say, almost giddy with the glee of outing him.

“No I’m not!” he says, and it’s too quick to be the truth.

“Yes you are,” you say.

“Char,” Charizard says from where she’s sticking her head in through the window. You put her back in her ball, and she’s all too happy to stay there. You clip it back to your belt. Guzma has frozen. It’s as if he’s not quite sure what you’re gonna do next. And honestly? Neither are you.

“So what were you expecting? I’d ride into this shithole and be your first fuck?” you asked. Guzma looks humiliated, but his dick is still hardening. You’ve backed him against the wall now and put your thigh between his legs, so you can feel every exquisite cock twitch.


“Say it, Guzma.”

Your voice drops. Suddenly, rather than hiding from your eyes, he stares right at you.

“I wanted you to fuck me.”

His voice is so much softer than it was before. It’s weaker, even. There’s a note of uncertainty. He’s almost begging.

Fuck. Okay, it’s hot.

You fall to your knees in front of him and his eyes go wide. You nuzzle him through the front of his sweats, rubbing the outline of his dick round your mouth. It’s straining at being contained now and your hands sneak up to his waistband.

You look up at him. He’s mesmerised.

“You want me to suck it or not?” you ask him matter-of-factly. He can’t bring himself to use words, so he just nods.

You tug his clothing down and release his dick. The photos maybe didn’t do it justice. It’s a pretty nice dick. And it seems clean too, which considering everything about Guzma, is probably a bonus. Maybe he washed it for you under the vague hope this very situation would happen.

You open your mouth and take all of him.

He gasps and has to stop himself from coming right then.

You look up at him with your widest eyes and moan. It’s all an act, but you love seeing the effect it has on him. His hand fists in your hair and his breathing is laboured as you drag yourself up and down his length, making sure to cover his dick with a good coating of saliva so when he looks down he sees himself drenched in your spit, proof of what’s happening.

You’re pretty good at blowjobs. You let his head hit the back of your throat and swallow around him, every now and then bringing him out so you can tongue the slit, teasing him with just a hint of teeth. He doesn’t last long under the pleasure. Just as you lick the vein on the underside of his dick he releases without warning, spraying himself into your mouth in hot salty jets. You take it, and then spit it out onto the floor next to you, running the back of your hand over your mouth.

He pants and watches you get to your feet. He can barely stand up straight, the fact his back is against the wall is all that’s keeping him vertical.

“Cool, so if we’re done -” you begin, but it seems Guzma has other ideas. He grabs your wrist tightly, and you see how hard he’s breathing. When he pushes you back down onto the mattress he has on his floor, you’re a bit surprised, but you raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Ya boy’s not done with you yet,” he growls, and he drops to his knees over you. His fingers are a little clumsy with the buttons of your shorts but he manages to get them off, flinging them to the other side of the room. He slips a hand down the front of your pants and presses two fingers against you. It’s only now that you realise how hot that blowjob had been, and how wet it had made you. You gasp when he makes contact with your clit.

“Ya like that?” he chuckles in your ear. You won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it, but you do groan when his fingers slide up the wet length of you and plunge in. His nails maybe could have done with cutting but with that and the feeling of his calloused thumb against your nub, you aren’t sure if you feel like complaining.

He pulls up your top with his free hand and runs his face over your tits, forcing your bra aside to lick and kiss them. You can feel his free cock hardening again.

“Have you… got a condom?” you manage to ask. He pauses for a second and, with the hand which isn’t inside you, he searches his pockets.

“Fuck… shit where did it go…” he growls, frustrated not to be concentrating on the mutual pleasure. You reach for your bag which has been abandoned next to the bed and unzip it, bringing out your own foil packet.

“You know how to put this on?” you manage, forcing it into his hand. He removes himself from you to give himself just enough time to open it - he can’t get a good grip at first with one of his hands covered in your slick, so in the end he just rips it with his teeth and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing. He rolls it over himself, seeing as his cock is hard again, but you don’t get much more of a chance to comment on it before he pushes himself into you.

You give up no resistance. You let out a moan as he sinks in, and you see a look of ecstasy pass his face. He dispenses with the pleasantries and begins fucking you. All you can do is throw your head back and let it happen. Fuck his cock is good. He fills every inch of you perfectly. If only…

“Put my legs over your shoulder,” you huff.


“Fucking… do it!”

He doesn’t need telling twice, hooking a hand round each calf and slinging them up. His cock is so much deeper now and you groan as you feel it brush that spot in you. Your hand reaches for his abs, and you slide up under his shirt to feel them rippling with the force he uses to fuck you.

Then something strange happens.

You come.

You were not expecting to. It was not often that you actually came during sex. But you guess that blowjob gave him the stamina he needed to fuck you into oblivion, and as your vision goes white you cry out in ecstasy, and his thrusts get more erratic and he roars as he follows you over the edge.

When he’s done he almost collapses. You unhook your legs and catch your breath as he flops down next to you. You both pant, laying there, sweaty and satisfied.

It’s a while before either one of you speaks.

“If I get a UTI, you’re paying for my treatment,” you state. You get up and begin recovering your abandoned clothes. Guzma makes a “tsk” noise from where he lays, removing the condom and tucking his dick back in.

“Jus’ drink Kee Berry juice. You’ll be fine,” he grumbles. But then he looks to you, as if he’s waiting for… something. You aren’t sure what it is. This stuff hasn’t been your strong suit. Like… pillow talk. So you settle with,

“Next time you want to hook up, just text me like a normal person, ok? Don’t hang round in some throne room and wait for me like a weirdo.”

“... Yeah, sure,” he agrees, then his head slumps back as he gives into post-coital sleepiness. You pick up the Yungoos’s ball, and a shard of Buginium Z just for the hell of it, then leave.

It’s a couple of days before he texts again. It’s just a simple:


But you text him which motel you’re staying at and the room number, and he shows up within the hour. He tries to look nonchalant as he leans up against the doorframe, but his façade fades as you answer the door in your laciest black bra. You tug him into the room and he doesn’t leave until the next day.

It becomes a pastime. Perhaps you don’t clear the trials as quickly as you could in order to facilitate your hook ups. Nobody says anything to you, of course, but you notice Kukui’s disapproving looks at the hickeys you sport on your neck and shoulders, and when Lillie tries to hold your hand (she’s a fan of it and you don’t object because clearly if makes her feel safer, you’re an asshole not a monster) suddenly you feel a bit more reluctant knowing that the entire hand she cling onto has been fisted inside Guzma’s asshole.

And it’s slow, because neither of you are really talkers, but seeing as you see each other so often, you begin to talk about your lives. He admits his parents were abusive and you watch the way you talk to him, because you don’t want to add to that. You slowly reveal that you only really had two friends in Kanto, and they were both older than you, two guys named Red and Blue. Guzma both scoffs at their names and huffs a bit, badly hiding his jealousy. You roll your eyes and shove him.

“They were my friends. I wasn’t into them. Besides, I was just a kid, you know,” you tell him. “It’d be like me asking if there was anything going on between you and Plu.”

“Gross,” Guzma mutters, pulling a face. You laugh, and suck his dick.

Progress is made.

Charlie doesn’t like him for a long time, but through frequent gifts of Rainbow Beans, he wins her over. His Golisopod thinks it’s still a Wimpod and tries to sit on your lap. It’s quite endearing, and Guzma teases you to no end when he catches you smiling. You don’t mind it as much as you did before.

Still, you have to watch him slip deeper and deeper into something he can’t control.

“Leave Lusamine,” you say. It comes out quite suddenly, without meaning. Guzma is in the process of putting his clothes back on and he freezes, staring back at you where you’re laying on the bed.

“Wha?” he asks, feigning innocence. He’s bad at lying.

“I know Team Skull is in cahoots with her. I’m not an idiot. Leave, Guzma.”

He stops dressing, turning to you with no shirt on. It’d be funny if this conversation hadn’t been a long time coming.

“Why does is matter to you?” he asks, and you think it’s meant to be snappy, but there’s a note of the genuine there.

“Because. They’re not just assholes, Guzma. They’re, you know. Evil.”

“So’s Team Skull,” he tries to defend.

“I mean properly evil. And Lusamine is only using you.”

“No she’s not! She needs me.”

“No, she sees someone she can manipulate, and you just let her. You’re smart, you know that, right? Like you need better team composition but Guzma, you’re not… a bad trainer. But she doesn’t see any of that.”

“Lusamine is the only person who’s ever given a shit about me.”

That hurts you.

“Yo, what the fuck?”

“Ya care?”

“Well of course.”

“Then say you love me.”

That stops you in your tracks.

“I… it’s not that easy.”


“Because I’m an asshole Guzma -”

“You keep saying that!” he says, and he’s getting angry, “but ya know you’re not! You’re just a person! Why are ya always so shitty towards yourself? Do you think you don’t deserve to be happy, or somethin’?”

You don’t notice you’re crying until it’s too late. Because when you think about it, no. You never have. You’ve always been awful to people, because you never felt you were… worth their kindness. And you hate being called out on it.

The two of you stare at each other.

“If you don’t leave them, next time I see you I’m taking you down with everything I have,” you whisper.

“Fine,” he replies, and slams the door when he leaves.

And you do.

You battle to get to Lusamine, who has kidnapped dear Lillie. You watch him walk after Lusamine, knowing he chose her over you. He does stop, just before the wormhole, and looks back at you, as if just crying out will stop him.

Your mouth stays firmly shut.

When you see him in Ultra Space later, there’s something hanging in the air. He looks so gaunt, so tired, his mistakes catching up to him finally. You want to hold him but you can’t. You stick to your words, but usher him out back to your dimension with a heavy heart.

Things don’t really quiet down for you, per se. The whole Aether Foundation draws to a close but you finish your Island Challenge dutifully, and take on Alola’s Elite Four equivalent.

You become Alolas’s champion.

You lose your first battle.

Hau looks triumphant as you recall your KO’d Lycanroc to its ball.

“I… I won?!” he squeals. You grin and clap him on the back.

“Well done, champ. Defend that throne with pride!” you say. There’s a ceremony to change the title over, and Hala takes you to the side afterwards.

“Anyone who’d been watching you might say it was strange you used an entirely Alolan team to fight, seeing as they’re so much weaker than your main team. Almost as if you wanted to lose,” he hums, stroking his moustache.

“I couldn’t possibly comment,” you say, smiling as you see Hau celebrating.

What everyone wants to know is, what’s next for Alola’s shortest reigning champion? And you answer, well, time to move on to continue your legacy… You’ve done Kanto, so Hoenn is your next stop. A bit more like home, but a new adventure you’re choosing for yourself. You plan to take the ferry out on the Tuesday, 7am, you say.

And he turns up. It’s touching, you’re not sure he’s ever seen seven in the morning.

Your mom bid you goodbye tearfully the night before. Charlie is the only one with you at the quiet Alolan port, not many passengers on this particular boat. You hear him shuffle up behind you. And it’s good to see him.

“You look better,” you say. He does. Since you heard Team Skull disbanded, you’d wondered what impact it had on him. His tattoos are gone and so is his chain. He doesn’t slump so much. He might have even put on a bit of weight, good for him.

“Thanks. So… Hoenn,” he says.


“Not stayin’ in Alola?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Hoenn’s far.”


“Well,” he seems to sag a bit as the conversation goes on. There is an announcement for the ferry to board.

“I guess I’ll see ya around,” he says.



“Well, you’re coming, right?”

You hand him the ticket you bought. It’s a bold move, but the champion title set you up with a fair bit of cash. Guzma looks at you, and the ticket. His mouth is agape.


“If you wanna stay here I’ll understand. I won’t make you. But, I think it’d be good for you. Plenty of bug types in Hoenn. Plus…” you take a deep breath, “I love you. So.”

And he kisses you, and it’s weird, not just because he needs some gum, but because you’re not sure he’s ever kissed you before. So you lean into it and put your arms around him, and it’s… nice.

“So you coming?” you ask when you pull apart.

“Of course ya boy’s coming. I love ya.”