Late Nights: Grisham X Reader
Premise: You're waiting for your partner to get home, but they're out late and you end up falling asleep.
For some reason, I keep drifting to writing more serious and angsty things with Grisham. It just feels right to me for him. I think because, gamewise, we don't have a lot of close moments with Grisham to play around with potential pairing/romance/etc. Unlike Corbeau (the hotel, visiting him alone, him wanting praise from you, etc.)
Anyway, this is probably one of my favorites of my Grisham writings so far.
Also, not me waiting for @vanillianbean’s response to this 🥺👉👈
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Normally, you’d stay up to greet Grisham when he got home from work. He deserved to be loved on and spoiled the moment he walked through that door. The man ran a respectable, and successful coffee truck. So successful, in fact, that they had three trucks. And that was a lot to manage.
But tonight you just couldn’t keep your eyes open. You spent all day hunting for shiny pokemon (with zero success), and then when night came, you decided to take your frustration out in the battle royale. So, it was no surprise that as soon as entered the studio apartment, you headed straight to your shared bed and flopped down onto it, kicking off your shoes in the process.
Grisham’s Pyroar, who he had left out and given free reign of the apartment, had padded after you. She chuffed gently in your face, which was buried into the soft blankets. When you didn’t move, she tilted her head, quizzically, before hopping on the bed with you and curling around you. Instinctively, you snuggled into her, seeking her warmth. It was fall after all, and the air was extra chilly with the sun being down. The lioness laid with you, dozing off here and there but keeping vigilant watch.
She raised her head when the sound of keys, the click of the lock, and the door opening, and Grisham entered. He held his apron in one hand and a bag in the other. His Charizard stomped inside behind him.
The Nouveau owner walked over to the kitchen and set the bag down on the table, sighing and lifting his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted. The cold weather brought more customers, which was good for the business, but unfortunately, his employee running Truck No. 3 had called in sick and Grisham had to run two trucks (he didn’t trust Griselle to run No. 1 by herself). Setting the glasses back on his face, he looked over at where you laid in bed.
He walked over and Pyroar chuffed, happy to see her trainer, and made the move to stand, but Grisham shook his head, placing a finger to his lips. He reached out and stroked her gently behind the ears, before leaning over and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. Then, he adjusted and tucked the blankets over you, and walked back towards the table.
The smell of coffee wafted through your nose. Warm, nutty, with a bit of chocolate. You stretched and yawned, like a litleo waking up from a nap, and then went limp. Blinking you looked up to see Pyroar peering down at you. She chuffed at you, a warm breath puffing in your face, and she conked her head against your face, nuzzling you.
“Thanks, Pyroar,” you groaned, massaging the sore spot, while rubbing her forehead with the other. The lioness’ nuzzles soon turned into cleaning and you tried to move her head, her rough tongue scraping across your skin like sandpaper. “Ow—ow—ow…quit! Pyroar—stop! That hurts! I’m not a litleo!” You were ignored as the lioness continued bathing you.
“Pyroar—”
You heard a rumble from the foot of the bed, and leaned up to see Charizard standing there with a hopeful expression. Pyroar chuffed at him as the fire dragon stomped his way to the side of the bed and shoved his way between the two of you, thrusting his head into your chest. A bubble of laughter left you as your hands wrapped around his muzzle and you gently rubbed his forehead.
“Nice to see you, too, Charizard! If you’re here, then Grisham is definitely home.”
You had to coax the pokemon to let you up, as they were determined to dog pile on top of you. With promises of treats, you were allowed up and followed them into the kitchen area where Grisham was still preparing your warm drink.
A small plate of assorted small pre-cut sandwiches sat on the kitchen table, along with a few croissants, and a few desserts.
Leftovers from the coffee truck.
While the ingredients could be kept in the cold room back at the old Lysandre Café, the cooked food didn’t keep very well, and were better eaten that day. Usually, to help cut back waste, Café Nouveau would offer leftovers to the homeless: food, coffee, tea. Anything that was already made but not sold. And then, if there were any left after that, Grisham would bring them back for the both of you.
You sat down at the table, chair squeaking when you pulled it out, and reached for sandwich. You took a bite. Classic ham and Swiss on rye, with mustard. You hummed in delight, savoring the salty ham, the slightly sweet and mild swiss cheese, and the tart/bitterness of the mustard. You quickly finished it and reached for another. Turkey and cheddar.
Feeling two pairs of eyes on the back of your head, you tore the half sandwich in half and tossed each half to the two pokemon that were waiting patiently behind you.
"That's all you get," you told Pyroar and Charizard, reaching for another turkey sandwich.
As you ate, you watched Grisham move behind the kitchen counter, taking in his appearance. His hair was out of its ponytail, the strands—still nice and neat somehow—falling just under his shoulders. You loved seeing him with his hair down. The only other time you got to see it down was in the morning when he would get ready for work. The silky red and white strands, annoyingly straight and kept, would be brushed back, though a few locks would fall over his face, setting between his eyes and falling just over the bridge of his nose.
You'd always thought Grisham handsome, but when you saw his hair down like that, and while he was shaving....HOOOO, that man was FINE! Sometimes you wondered how you even bamboozled him into dating you (though he’ll deny it and claim that he it was the other way around).
The microwave dinged, startling you out of your thoughts, and Grisham paused in his coffee making to remove a steaming mug from the microwave. He turned around, not at all surprised that you were already at the table, and walked over to place the steaming mug in front of you with a spoon. Taking a peek at the contents, you identified the chicken noodle soup.
You’re favorite.
While soup was not something that Café Nouveau normally offered or made, during the colder months they partnered up with a business from a local farmer’s market outside of Lumiose that made their own soups. And it became a very popular seasonal item. Who wouldn’t want a cup of hot, steaming, soup when the weather got cold? Or a hearty bowl of chili?
You stirred the soup a bit, observing the chunks of chicken, carrot, and celery, the fluffy noddles, and floating bits of herbs. Bringing a steaming spoonful to your lips, you blew gently for a split second before shoving it in your mouth (you were a glutton for punishment and like to eat food while it was still piping hot), exhaling loudly as you tried to cool your mouth while chewing.
You heard Grisham chuckle as he came back to the table with two cups of hot coffee. He placed one in front of you before sitting down, placing the other in front of himself.
“No matter how many times you burn your tongue, you always eat your food while it’s still too hot.”
You swallowed.
“I know, it’s one of my toxic traits,” you said, tearing off a piece of croissant and dunking it in your soup before bringing it to your mouth. “Busy night?”
Grisham nodded, taking off his white-rimmed glasses and setting them on the table. “It always is when the weather gets cold. People tend to seek hot drinks more, and now that we can offer soups, we’ve been extra busy.” He took a sip of his coffee.
You looked at him, taking in his tired appearance.
“Tonight was especially busy as my guy at No. 3 called in sick with a cold,” he continued. “So, I was running back and forth to run both trucks.”
You dunked another piece of croissant in your soup. “Still not brave enough to let Griselle run it for you, ehh?” You popped the soppy bread into your mouth and chewed.
His tired eyes opened to shoot you a dry look. “With how candid she is with her sales pitch, I’m afraid she’d chase off the majority of our clientele.”
“Aw, c’mon. She’s not that bad.”
Grisham cleared his throat.
“The only good thing we have to offer is our location. You here for another nasty drink?”
He didn’t quite get the pitch right, but the sass was all there.
You choked on your soup, laughing and coughing, while Grisham just gave you a deadpanned look. You grabbed your coffee and took a drink.
“Grisham—warn a girl before you start doing impressions,” you wheezed.
He just smirked before taking another drink from his mug. Then, propped an elbow on the table, chin in hand, and softly gazed at you.
You finished the last of your soup, and was just about to reach for another sandwich when you noticed his staring.
“What?’
“Just admiring you.”
“Oookay…” You slowly plucked a sandwich from the plate, eyeing him cautiously. You brought the sandwich to your mouth, and then lowered it. “Why?”
“Because you are absolutely beautiful.”
Your eyes went wide as your mouth hung open. Surely, he couldn’t be referring to your bed-ridden hair, rumpled clothes, tired eyes, and potential small streak of crusted drool on your cheek.
You snorted, taking a bite of sandwich.
“I’m not even going to ask…” you said with your mouth full.
Grisham chuckled and shook his head. “Truly, you are.”
“Let’s not kid ourselves, here.” You finished the rest of your sandwich. “Grisham, you grew up here. A city filled with beautiful women. Heck, you joined a cult—yes, I consider it a cult—whose goal was to create a ‘beautiful’ world. I’m sure there were plenty of attractive and beautiful women in Team Flare.” You laid a hand on the table, eyes down, deep in thought, and suddenly feeling very self-conscious.
You felt his hand on top of yours and looked up. His amber eyes, while serious, were soft and warm. He lifted your hand to his mouth and planted a kiss on your palm.
“Before you came to Lumiose,” he started, “I had only one goal in mind. To become the strongest mega evolution trainer and protect the city I love.” His gaze dropped to your joined hands. “I become so obsessed with my goal that I didn’t care what I had to do to achieve it. I even asked you to forcibly take AZ’s Floette away from him and bring her to me.”
His gaze hardened, as though he was disgusted with himself. “In a way, I was no better than Lysander from the past. I strayed from my path, though my goal was noble. I was blinded by my bitterness and resentment from all I endure these few years after the fall of Team Flare.”
You sat in silence, absorbing his words.
“But,” he continued, “After battling side by side with you against those mega evolved pokemon, and watching you team up with Zygarde to calm Ange, it reminded me just how small we are in comparison to the rest of the world.”
He turned his gaze to the window. “As much as we wanted to change the world, make it more beautiful, who were we to decide what was beautiful and what wasn’t? And decide who got to be a part of this new world we wanted to create?”
You placed your other hand on top of his, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. Grisham turned to look at your hand covering his.
“I realized...that I wanted to live my own life, the way that I deemed beautiful, for myself. No matter what others thought of me and my past." He paused, before continuing. "My past with Team Flare was only a chapter, a sliver, of my life. One that’s ended and closed, and won’t ever be returned to.”
He looked up at your face, his eyes warm and earnest. “And, after our rematch in the Infinite Battle Royale, I also realized that…” he paused, closing his eyes, “I deeply desired you to be part of that life as well." He opened his eyes to look at your face. "I don’t care about aesthetically beautiful things, or people. Aesthetics come and go. But real beauty? Real beauty is found in things that are real, genuine, and human.” He looked back at the window.
“That is why you are beautiful to me.”
Your unfinished coffees sat cold on the table, no longer putting off steam.
You waited a moment before standing up and walking around the table to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his hands settled around your waist. Then, you gently, sweetly, kissed him on the lips.
“I was only joking about the beauty thing,” you said quietly when you pulled away. “I love you, Grisham. I’ll be honest and say that I’m not sure what beautiful world you have in mind for your life, but for me, a world with you in it is beautiful to me.”
Grisham’s eyes widened in shock.
You begin to panic and began to laugh awkwardly.
“I mean—I, um…I was kidding about that, too, hahaha! Forget I said—"
Grisham was suddenly kissing you, thoroughly. Deeply. Passionately.
And Pyroar and Charizard were sitting in the living room, watching joyfully like, “Awww, mom and dad are so cute!”.