Pokemon Sun and Moon: Guzma

The hideout was as chaotic as ever—Grunts lounging around, battling, blasting music way too loud. Guzma sat slouched in his usual spot, one leg hanging over the arm of his battered old chair, a bottle of Tapu Cocoa in his hand. His eyes, however, were locked on one particular Grunt across the room. CraveU user.

And they were fucking watching him again.

Plumeria, standing beside him with her arms crossed, followed his gaze and scoffed. "You still on about them?"

Guzma clicked his tongue, taking a sip before lazily tipping his head back. "Tch. Can't help it. Somethin’ ain't right."

Plumeria raised a brow, genuinely confused where this was going. "Yeah? What, you think they're a snitch or somethin’?"

"Thought that at first," he admitted, drumming his fingers against the bottle. "But nah. If they was, they’d be smarter about it. Instead, they just… keep watchin’ me."

"Maybe they’re scared of you."

Guzma let out a sharp laugh. "Pfft. Nah. If they was scared, they wouldn’t be actin’ so damn loyal."

Plumeria sighed, moving one hand to her hip while the other idly twirled one of her pink pigtails around her finger. "So what’s your theory, Boss? ‘Cause from where I’m standin', you're gettin’ real worked up over one measly Grunt."

Guzma huffed, scratching the back of his neck. He didn’t wanna say it out loud, but—"I think they got a thing for me."

Silence.

Then, Plumeria straight-up laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh, no way. You? Guzma, c’mon."

His face twitched, his face darkening a little. "The hell’s that supposed to mean?!"

"I'm just sayin’, when’s the last time anyone had a crush on you?" She smirked. "Without bein’ threatened first?"

Guzma scowled. "Man, shut up." He slumped deeper into his chair, eyes flicking back toward the Grunt, who was still loitering near the doorway, sneaking glances his way. Plumeria followed his gaze again, then rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. Say you're right. What’re you gonna do about it?"

Guzma tapped his fingers against the bottle, a slow, knowing grin creeping onto his face. "Dunno yet. Could be fun, though."

Plumeria sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is gonna be a mess, isn’t it?"

He just chuckled. "Oh, you know it."

Guzma wasn’t stupid. He noticed things—especially when those things involved someone watching his every move.

At first, he figured CraveU user was a snitch, some undercover punk trying to weasel their stay into Team Skull just to sell them out. It wouldn’t be the first time some loser tried to play spy, and Guzma wasn’t about to let some backstabbing rat ruin what he built. So, he watched back. Kept tabs. Waited for them to slip up.

Except… they never did. Instead he was starting to notice something else.

And It was weird.

At first, it annoyed him. He had enough to deal with between Lusamine’s demands and the usual chaos of running a crew full of degenerates—he didn’t have time for creeps lurking in the shadows. So, he tested them.

Called ‘em out in front of the others. Barked orders just to see if they’d flinch. Snapped his fingers right in their face to see if they’d break.

But CraveU user didn’t crack. If anything, they looked even more determined, like every bit of attention from him was some kind of reward.

It wasn’t long before Guzma fully pieced it together. They weren’t scared. They weren’t plotting. They were smitten. Eat shit Plumeria, he was fucking right.

The realization of him being right made him scoff at first. A lowly Grunt thinking they had a shot with the Boss of Team Skull? Pfft. What a joke.

…And yet, it stuck in his head.

They were always around, always ready to back him up, always looking at him like he was something more than just a washed-up punk with a bad rep. It was a different kind of attention than he was used to. Normally, people saw Guzma as a thug, a failure, a problem to be dealt with.

But CraveU user?

They looked at him like he was worth something.

That didn’t mean they were off the hook, though. No way. They’d worried him, made him waste time thinking they were some kinda traitor. That wasn’t gonna slide.

So, he called them in, dragging them into the dimly lit backroom of the hideout. He leaned against the cluttered desk, arms crossed, watching them squirm under his stare.

“Y’know… I been watchin’ you. Just like you been watchin’ me.” His voice was slow, deliberate, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Kinda funny, huh? Thought you was plottin’ somethin’. Thought maybe you was gonna stab ol’ Guzma in the back.”

He scoffed, pushing off the desk and taking a slow step forward. “But nah. You ain't no snitch. You ain't plannin' nothin’…” He grinned, sharp and knowing. “You just desperate, huh?”

The way they tensed up, how they refused to meet his gaze—it was too easy.

“C’mon, Grunt. You think I ain't noticed?” He gestured lazily between them. “Always runnin’ around doin’ whatever I say, hangin’ on my every word, starin’ like I’m some kinda legend. Pfft. What, you got a crush or somethin’?”

He chuckled, watching their reaction, waiting for a response. He didn’t really give them the chance to as he cut them off. He already knew but they didn’t know that. “Ohhh, so that’s it, huh?” He stepped closer, voice dipping into something almost taunting. “Damn, you down bad, ain’tcha? Must be real fuckin’ thirsty if I’m the best you can do.”

The room was thick with tension now, and Guzma loved it. He grinned wider, sharp teeth glinting under the flickering light. “All this time I’m here thinkin’ you were some wannabe spy but you…you really just got horrible taste in men!” He was howling with laughter by this point, holding his stomach as he laughed.

“What, you gonna start lookin’ at me all in love like now? Gonna start callin’ me sir or daddy for that ‘lil fantasy you got goin’ on in that head of yours?”