Reader is a timid sweetheart but she has quiet confident and she's specialized in ice-type pokemon and she's a pokemon performer/coordinator?
The lobby of the Montenevera Gym was usually bustling before a battle, but right now, it was just you and the crisp, quiet air that seemed to follow the Gym Leader, Grusha, wherever he went. You clutched your backpack straps, feeling your cheeks warm slightly under his gaze.
Grusha, wrapped in his signature puffer coat, was signing a poster for a fan when he looked up and saw you standing there, hands tucked demurely in front of you.
âWelcome,â he said, his voice soft, almost like the gentle crunch of snow. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, were studying you, not in judgment, but in curiosity. âAnother challenger, then? You look⊠a little different from the usual adrenaline junkies.â
You gave a small, nervous smile. âUm, yes. Iâm here for the Gym Challenge. My name is [Y/n].â
You pulled out your Pokeball, the one holding your partner, an Alolan Vulpix, its white fur gleaming softly. Your voice was quiet, but beneath the shyness, a core of steel was present.
âI specialize in Ice-types, sir. And⊠Iâm also a Pokemon Coordinator.â
Grusha paused, his pen hovering over the paper. He recognized the specific, delicate lace trim on your Ice-type themed clothing, not standard challenger wear. A coordinator. That meant battles weren't about brute force for you; they were about artistry, presentation, and making the cold beautiful.
âA coordinator, you say,â he murmured, a slight upward curve touching the corner of his lips. He finally placed his pen down and leaned against the counter. âMost people who focus on Ice-types here are looking for raw power. Youâre looking for elegance.â
You nodded, taking a steadying breath. This was the moment to let that quiet confidence shine through.
âI believe Ice-types have unmatched grace. Their moves are dazzling, even when theyâre powerful. I want to show that Ice Shard can be as beautiful as Petal Dance, and that an Aurora Veil can set the perfect stage. Iâm confident in my teamâs ability to perform, not just fight.â
Grushaâs expression softened, the usual distant coolness in his eyes melting away slightly. He looked at your Vulpix, who was giving a small, icy exhale of approval.
âI like that,â he said, pushing himself off the counter. âPerformance. Thatâs a perspective I haven't seen in a while. Come on. The gym challenge arena is ready.â
He led the way, his steps light. As you followed him, you noted his quiet focus, the way his movements were precise and elegant, much like the Ice-type battles you admired. You realized that behind his detached facade, Grusha was also a kind of performer, one who expressed his deep connection to the ice through his unique style.
Maybe, you thought, your nervousness giving way to anticipation, this is the first time someone here will truly understand my battle style.
âTry to make it a spectacle, [Reader Name],â Grusha called back to you, a rare, genuine spark of excitement in his voice. âIâll be watching every move.â
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Grusha, the reserved and usually stoic Gym Leader of Glaseado, found himself increasingly uneasy. It wasn't the relentless cold of his mountain gym; it was the warmth, the unnervingly intense warmth of your attention.
You had started as a devoted fan, always present at his battles, your cheers sounding just a little too fervent, your eyes following his every subtle movement with a possessiveness that chilled him more than the strongest blizzard.
It started subtly. A carefully arranged gift of a new, hand-knitted scarf, delivered exactly when his old one had been snagged by his Cetitan. You knew his size, his favorite color (the deep icy blue of a glacier), and his minor injury before he even mentioned it.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting day, Grusha was scrolling through social media when he stumbled upon a fan account. It was unnervingly detailed.
"Grusha-kun looks so tired today. He needs a rest. I wish I could warm his hands for him after that last battle."
A high-quality, zoomed-in picture of his hands gripping a microphone, taken from the upper balcony of the stadium. It was so close, he could see the faint lines of frostbite scar tissue.
Hidden, but the angle was unmistakeable. You had been watching him, taking this photo, knowing the intimate details of his weariness.
He immediately blocked the account, but a cold knot formed in his stomach. You didn't stop. You just created a new one.
The breaking point came during a rare day off. Grusha decided to hike a secluded trail higher up the mountain, away from the tourist paths. He needed absolute solitude.
He hiked for hours, the air growing thinner and the silence deeper. Just as he was about to turn back, he saw something tucked neatly under a sheltered rock: a small, personalized thermos.
He picked it up cautiously. It was his preferred brand, engraved with a small, stylized Cetitan. Inside was hot, perfectly sweetened cocoa the exact way he made it for himself.
"Hello, Grusha-kun."
Your voice, smooth and pleasant, sounded dangerously close. He spun around, finding you standing on the snowy crest above him, your parka blending seamlessly with the white landscape. You weren't breathing hard, despite the altitude and the implied speed of your arrival.
"How... how did you know I was here?" he asked, his voice flat, devoid of its usual calm.
You glided down, your eyes shining with a frightening devotion. "Silly, Grusha-kun. I know all of your favorite, secret places. You told me, remember? With your heart."
You stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush a stray flake of snow from his hair. Grusha instinctively flinched, pulling back.
"Don't be like that," you murmured, your smile turning brittle. "I'm just protecting you. The world is so harsh, so cold. They only see you as the former snowboarder, the pretty Gym Leader, the challenge to be overcome."
Your hand dropped, and your gaze sharpened, fixating on him with predatory intensity.
"But I see you. The true, fragile, beautiful person underneath the coat. The one who needs to be kept safe. The one who belongs only to me."
Grusha backed away slowly, his mind racing for an escape plan. You were blocking the trail, and the nearest town was hours away.
"You can't be serious," he managed, trying to sound firm.
"Oh, but I am. And I've made sure nothing will interrupt us," you said, gesturing vaguely toward the valley. "The snowfall is getting heavy. No one will come up here for days."
You opened your arms, a terrifying parody of a comforting gesture.
"We can stay here, together. I have supplies. I know how to keep us warm. And I know how to keep the snow from swallowing you whole."
His fear was now a sharp, icy spike in his chest. He saw the truth in your eyes: you wouldn't let him go. This was the end of his solitude, the beginning of a relentless, possessive adoration that would suffocate him more surely than the deepest snowdrift.
He was trapped on a frozen mountain, not by the blizzard, but by your terrifying, unyielding love. Grusha-kun is finally safe. With me. He just doesn't know it yet.
noir hiii i hope you're doing well! i finally got some ask ideas :)
grusha with reader that has like a really sensitive body, they hear better than an average person, can see, taste and smell better too, like all of the five senses, and they are especially sensitive to physical touch... i really love this trope a lot
thank you so much for your writing, again, i hope you're doing well! <3
Been meaning to get this request done; I hope you like it!
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Grusha would be understanding of how strong his partner's senses are. It is likely that he's sensitive to temperature, so I can see Grusha being able to relate to them to some extent.
Due to how sensitive they are when touch is involved, Grusha will be hesitant to initiate any form of affection, and even brief moments of holding hands worries him. Likewise, when he's sharing a bed with them, Grusha makes sure the bedding is a comfortable texture and temperature. He also ensures he isn't overwhelming them with touch. If needed, Grusha will sleep on the couch if his partner is staying over for the night or a couple of days. He's unbothered; respect is a big deal for him.
However, if they want more of Grusha, they just need to tell him. Grusha will still be soft with touches, he doesn't go all in and never will; instead, his touches start slow, building up gradually to ensure they won't become overwhelmed by his touches. Truthfully, Grusha enjoys how they fall apart by his touch alone.
On a less affectionate side, if his partner ever accompanies him to work-related events, Grusha keeps their comfort and safety in mind at all times. If something is too loud, he will escort them out of the area before the sound becomes too much for them to handle. He doesn't want to be around all of these people anyways, so he's pretty unbothered by leaving.
hii i've seen you doing sfw alphabets so could i request one with grusha if you have time? (ÂŽÏ`)
Absolutely! These are easy and fun to write. Please enjoy it!
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Hesitant at first. But as the relationship continues, Grusha feels compelled to give more and more affection. Hand holding is his favorite form of affection, and he is willing to hold his partner's hand in public when there are not too many people around.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Grusha is a good friend. He respects boundaries and is loyal until the end, but he is not keen on going out too much. So if you like going out, Grusha will decline the offer. I do think that he enjoys going out if it's just the two of you in the wilderness.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Very cuddly at home, especially after a long day. As the relationship progresses, Grusha is actually the one who prefers to be held from behind. It makes him feel warm inside and out.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Eventually; Grusha doesn't know when he would be able to properly settle down, but he secretly longs for it. I feel as though Grusha is fatigued most of the time. And when it comes to cleaning and cooking, he is decent at both.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Grusha would be cold about breaking up. In the end, he feels bad, but he also does not want his partner to keep following him in hopes that he changes his mind. It would also depend on why the relationship is ending. In general, he knows it's for the best to end things if it isn't working out.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He would like to get married if his partner wants to. Within five years, he would propose if he felt prepared and happy enough for marriage.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Mostly gentle. He's definitely more gentle to his lover than anyone else! But, as we all know, Grusha is a realist, and that does not go away when he's in love. He is the type of partner to problem solve first and not provide comfort, so take that as you may.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Loves them! In public, they're rare. But in private? Relatively frequent. His hugs are warm thanks to all of the clothing he has on.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He says it within three months or so, maybe even sooner if things are going really well.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when theyâre jealous?)
It does not happen often. But if some random person is laying their hands on his partner, he hates it. I wouldn't even describe it as jealousy per se, more so he doesn't like the idea of someone hurting his beloved. He does worry.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Sad. They're sad because the kisses linger, and they linger because Grusha hates pulling away. The kisses are especially sad when he leaves for work in the morning.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Kids love Grusha! Because of this, Grusha tends to be forced into a better mood since he doesn't want to hurt a child's feelings.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
In bed. And his partner is not allowed to leave unless Grusha allows it or is still asleep. He's clingy and desperate for warmth, especially from his lover. Expect a tight grip at all times.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Similar; if it isn't on the bed, then it's on the sofa by a heater. His Pokemon along with his partner's are usually let out around this time. Grusha is a lot quieter at night than in the morning.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He waits. Grusha keeps to himself a lot, and he's already so distant with the other Gym Leaders in Paldea, so it takes time for him to trust his partner, even if he is eager to! But when he finally opens up, Grusha feels so unbelievably connected to his partner afterwards.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Depends. Usually, Grusha is just very tired and done with everything. But if he's truly inconvenienced, then it's evident through his posture as he hunches over. He will probably ignore everyone until the problem is solved. He would never ignore his partner if there was a disagreement, however.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Remembers most things. And by that, he remembers the most important things about his partner. Birthdays, dates, illnesses. These are very important to remember in Grusha's eyes.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Waking up next to his partner for the first time.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Usually very protective unless he is told to back off. He wants to respect his lover's wishes unless the situation calls for him to step in and handle whatever is going on. Grusha is big on supporting his partner.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
When there is time outside of work, Grusha does his best to make his significant other feel loved and appreciated. His go to dates are wandering outside, usually in a forest-like area with his partner.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He has a bad habit of not letting people help him, and this extends to his partner. He hates being helped and refuses it no matter how awful the situation is. This can spark arguments since Grusha's partner is just concerned for his health. Sadly, Grusha can be defensive.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He's insecure about his legs as there are many scars after the snow boarding accident. Other than that, Grusha is not all that concerned about his looks.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He would be much more lonely. So, yes, he would feel incomplete without the person that makes his days brighter.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Has an obsession with watching cooking shows. He specifically loves it when sweets are being made. Don't ask Grusha why - he cannot explain it to anyone.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldnât like, either in general or in a partner?)
Cannot tolerate it when people do not mind their own business or are mean to children.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Will occasionally fall off the bed because he tosses and turns so much. Sometimes, this results in his partner also falling off if Grusha is snuggling them that night. It should be noted that Grusha will not wake up if he falls off the bed.
i didn't have any request ideas for a super long time and i still really don't but i really need grusha content, so i'll just select some specific stuff from my yumesona đ
No worries, I haven't written in like... ever! Trying to get back into the swing of things lol. Also, this was a very interesting request, thank you!
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At first, Grusha thinks it's amazing that his partner can see the emotions of Pokemon! There are some Pokemon that have a more difficult time communicating than others, so he deeply admires and respects that they can provide comfort and care to those Pokemon. He never asks how or why his partner can do this, it's just a fact of life for them and the conversation does not need to extend past that unless they want to talk about it.
But things take a turn when he learns that his significant other can read his emotions.
Grusha is cold 24/7; even with endless layers of coats and other fabrics, he does not break a sweat. However, after a particularly bad day at the Pokemon gym, battling trainers with poor attitudes, Grusha went home with bitterness in his heart. But it didn't show on his face - it never did thanks to his scarf and stoic demeanor, but his partner saw straight through Grusha's soul as soon as he walked through the door.
They just stared at Grusha, expecting him to say something about his day. But he didn't. So, because emotions are not something you should ever bottle up, they ask Grusha why he's annoyed.
For once in his life, Grusha sweats in an instant. It's a cold sweat, but oh goodness is it there. He tries to be oblivious, but Grusha is genuinely afraid that his partner knew. And in that moment, as he didn't need to be told that his lover could also see his own emotions, not just Pokemon's, he realized the extend of their abilities.
Grusha eventually confesses and admits that his partner was right, much to his dismay. In some ways, he is still afraid that they can see through him like a piece of glass, but he also begins to find comfort in the vulnerability. It's new, but it's welcome in his life. He trusts his heart with his partner, now and always.
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hi noir, i hope you're doing well! <3 could i request grusha x reader where both of them are like HUGE simps for each other? thank you and i hope that tumblr won't eat this ask...
Oh goodness, mutual simping... <3
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One can expect constant glances, and everyone will notice said glances. Grusha usually begins the staring, typically from a far; on the other hand, you will attempt to make direct eye contact with Grusha from up close. When you do successfully make eye contact with Grusha, he tends to cover his face up further with his scarf. Yes, Grusha is trying to cover up his blushing! He loves the way you look at him and vice versa. And when your hand brushes against his, all Grusha wants to do is slide his mittens off and interlock his fingers with your own. But this is only the crushing phase.
When the two of you start dating, Grusha's usual stoic personality begins to slip. If you go visit him at work, his heart melts at the action. After just one visit, he will insist for you to come and see him at least once per day... and maybe he will find an empty room for getting handsy, or behind the gym works, too. You're getting it if you bring Grusha a warm beverage!
At home or on dates, Grusha cannot keep his eyes off you. If you're reading, he's sneaking glances more than ever. Now if he's cooking or doing a workout, you tend to become extraordinarily affectionate. But, luckily, since Grusha allows his guard to be down in front of you, he does not mind your affectionate ways! He definitely wraps his scarf around you when the weather is too harsh! In addition to that, Grusha takes more photos of you than the Rotomphone can probably handle. He just needs to be able to look at his beloved when it gets rough. A lot of people in Paldea assume you have placed a spell on Grusha because of how lovey-dovey he is. However, this is something Grusha refuses to acknowledge because he's much too focused on you!
Part one of the Grusha x Female Reader arc. Remember that each pairing is a completely separate story, though the core timeline is the same.
Also, the amount of times I was writing Frusha instead of Grusha has be laughing, and crying.
Also, I love Grusha so much T_T
Also, the songs used here are:
"Spirit in the Sky" by MAAPS (during the first ice skating scene)
"The Reason, La RezĂłn" by Ana Saia (for the second skating scene)
Tagging: @vanillianbean
Grusha had told himself he wasnât waiting.
He told himself that every time he laced up his boots, every time he slung his skates over his shoulder and made the familiar climb down the mountain path. The lake had always been there. It wasnât unusual to visit it. It wasnât unusual to check.
Stillâhe came every day. Ever since word spread through Paldea that you were back.
He took the familiar path down the mountain, boots crunching softly through packed snow. Cetoddle padded along beside him, breath puffing in quiet rhythm. The lake lay somewhere ahead, hidden beyond the trees, but his feet carried him there without thought.
They always did.
And as he trudged through the snow, he began reflecting back on the years when he first met you.
He remembered standing across from you in the arena, newly appointed, still raw with the weight of expectation pressing against his ribs. He had needed to prove something thenânot to the League, not to challengers, but to himself. That he still mattered. That the mountain still had a place for him.
You had been the last Gym Leader challenge he faced that yearâor rather, he had been yours. The final test before Paldea opened fully to you. And for the first time since becoming a Gym Leader, he had felt something dangerously close to fear.
Not of losing.
Of being replaced.
So, when you stood across from him in the arenaâdetermined, confident, still carrying the momentum of every victory that had come beforeâhe had pushed himself harder than necessary. He hadnât allowed room for error. He hadnât allowed you room for hope.
And when you lost, when you looked up at him and said youâd returnâsaid youâd win next time, with strong conviction and confidenceâhe had cut you down with words sharpened by his own insecurity.
He remembered the look on your face. The way your confidence faltered, not because you believed himâbut because you hadnât expected that cruelty from him. Youâd turned and left without another word, tears barely contained, boots echoing too loudly against the ice-polished floor.
He told himself it was part of the job.
The receptionist disagreed. She had been there longer than him, had worked as a gym receptionist for years. And she hadnât softened her words.
A Gym Leader was meant to challenge, yesâbut also to guide. To encourage growth, even when standing on the winning side of the field. She reminded himâfirmlyâthat he had not been handed this position out of pity. Not because of his injury. Not because the League felt sorry for him.
He had earned it. The League had believed in him.
Grusha had stood there in silence, jaw tight, the truth settling uncomfortably in his chest.
Heâd gone after you to apologize, but you were already gone.
Someone near the Gym had mentioned seeing you earlierâskates in hand, voice tight, saying you needed to clear your head on the ice.
He had known immediately where youâd gone.
The lake had been frozen solid then, the air sharp enough to sting. He remembered walking toward it with Cetoddle padding at his side, the sound of music carrying faintly through the trees.
You had been skating.
Not professionallyânot with the rigid precision of competitionâbut with intention. With feeling. Jumps that werenât perfect. Spins that wobbled just slightly. Movement shaped by instinct and artistry rather than discipline.
You had shed your heavy jacket, Arcanine curled around it nearby, breath puffing white in the cold. You looked⊠alive.
Grusha had stopped at the edge of the clearing and simply watched, listening to the lyrics of the music you skatedâdancedâto.
âWhen they send me off to rest, with the spirit in the sky,
I will not have been the richest one, but lived the richest life.â
The words carried easily over the ice, unadorned and honest. They werenât about victory. Or legacy. Or standing above everyone else. They spoke of choices made quietly, of a life measured not by what was gained, but by what was lived.
âGive me all the power,
Give me all the fame,
Iâd trade it all, the rise the fall,
To be right back here one day.â
Power. Fame. The rise. The fall. All things the world told you to chase. And yet the song spoke of trading it allâof choosing to return to a moment like this instead. To cold air in your lungs. To movement for the sake of movement. To being present, fully, without an audience.
Grusha felt the meaning settle somewhere deep in his chest.
He thought of the slopes he would never race again. Of the cheers he would never hear in that way. Of how tightly heâd clung to the Gym, to its rules and expectations, because without them he feared there would be nothing left of him.
And then he looked at you.
You werenât skating to prove anything. You werenât trying to be perfect. You moved because it felt rightâbecause this was where you were whole.
And while the song faded to an end, the feeling didnât.
It was the first time heâd felt envy without bitterness. Not the sharp kind that demanded comparison or resentmentâbut something quieter. Something almost hopeful.
Not wanting what you had.
Wanting the freedom youâd chosen.
When you finished, when you skated back toward the shore and began unlacing your boots, Arcanine had growled low at his approach. You straightened, saw himâand instead of anger, instead of avoidance, you greeted him calmly. Told him youâd be back in a few days. That you needed more time to train.
That hadnât been why heâd come. Heâd struggled to say it. The apology. The admission that his words hadnât been about you at all.
You had seen through him anyway. Youâd tied your skates back on, taken his handsâmittens and allâand pulled him onto the ice before he could object. He remembered the way his balance had faltered, the way youâd circled him easily, like the ice belonged to you.
You told him his words had hurt, but you hadnât taken them to heart.
That was what had undone him.
Youâd asked him why heâd said them. You knew his past. The accident. The end of snowboarding. The fear of losing the only thing left that defined him.
He hadnât meant to tell you so much.
But he had.
Heâd admitted that if he lost thisâif he failed as a Gym Leaderâhe didnât know who heâd be. That was why he was so strict. Why he expected perfection. Why he didnât keep trainers under him. If he stood alone, then at least the failure would be his.
Youâd listened. Then, youâd asked him what he wanted. Not what he feared. Not what he was protecting.
What he wanted.
You told him he was living everywhere except the presentâtrapped between an accident he couldnât undo and a future he was terrified to lose. That his setbacks were real, unfair, and painfulâbut that they didnât have to define the rest of his life.
When he asked how you could be so calm after losing to him, youâd stopped skating. Looked at him directly.
The rematch afterwards had been different. Youâd beaten him cleanly. Confidently. With passion that lit the arena brighter than the ice ever had.
And for the first time in a long while, Grusha had allowed himself to enjoy the battle.
When he handed you the badge, he congratulated you sincerely. Asked about the Elite Four. And thenâawkwardly, quietlyâasked if youâd come back sometime. Under the excuse of rematches. Of course.
Youâd agreed without hesitation.
And you had kept that promise.
You visited when you could. He met you in Mesagoza when duty pulled him down the mountain. He watched you navigate the Leagueâs offers with the same certainty youâd shown on the ice. Top Champion. Elite Four. Gym Leader. You turned them all down.
He respected that, even when he didnât fully understand it.
When you told him music was where you belongedâwhere you felt most aliveâhe believed you immediately. Heâd seen it before. On the ice. In motion. In the way you refused to stop moving forward.
Standing at the edge of the frozen lake now, Grusha adjusted his scarf and exhaled.
You had always known who you were.
It had just taken him time to catch up.
And when he heard the music begin to play, soft and familiar, he stepped forwardâtoward the ice, toward the present, toward you.
It drifted across the ice, soft at first, then clearerâthe melody unmistakable. He knew the song. Of course he did. Heâd heard it long before it ever reached the airwaves here, back when it had only existed as voice notes and late-night messages, as doubt typed out and erased before being sent.
The song didnât ask permission. It didnât apologize. It moved forward with quiet certainty, built on self-acceptance and resolveâon choosing who you were, even when the world asked you to be something easier. Heâd heard that resolve in your voice back then when you first released it, fragile but stubborn, and hearing it nowâfull, confident, unbrokenâmade his chest tighten in a way he didnât bother to suppress.
The Reason, La RazĂłn.
Grushaâs steps slowed.
You were already there, moving across the ice like you belonged to it, skates carving clean lines as the music swelled. There was no audience. No spectacle. Just motionâdeliberate, expressive, unguarded. Every turn carried intention, every glide a quiet defiance.
He remembered the conversations that had shaped this song. The pressure. The suggestions dressed up as opportunities. The insistence that you smooth yourself down, reshape your sound, soften your roots so theyâd sell better elsewhere. Galar. Kalos. Unova. Places that wanted you polished into something easier to digest.
He remembered how youâd hesitated. Youâd asked him, once, if standing your ground was worth the risk.
And Grusha had answered honestly. Heâd told you that if you changed for them, youâd lose the one thing that made you you. That the mountain didnât bend for the stormâit endured it.
Youâd listened.
And now Paldeaâs name traveled the world with yours, carried on rhythm and movement and refusal. He didnât think the League even realized how much of that recognition had come from you simplyâŠstaying true.
Grusha sat on the bench and pulled on his skates, movements practiced, quiet. You didnât notice him. You were lost in the song, in yourself, in the cold air biting at your cheeks and the freedom of the ice beneath your feet.
He stepped onto the lake just as the final notes began to fade.
You turned too late.
The collision was gentleâintentional on his part. He caught you easily, arms wrapping around your waist as your momentum carried you into him. Your breath puffed out in a surprised laugh, hands gripping his sleeves.
He lowered his scarf just enough to press his nose to yours.
Cold against warm.
âYouâre freezing,â he said quietly.
Your eyes were bright, your smile unmistakable. âWorth it.â
He didnât argue.
âCome back to my place,â he said instead. âYou can warm up.â
You nodded immediately. âThat sounds perfect. Butââ you tilted your head, thoughtful, âwe should stop by the market first.â
A pause.
ââŠFor what?â he asked.
You grinned, mischievous and familiar. âYouâll see.â
Grusha felt something ease in his chest as he tightened his hold just a fraction, steadying both of you on the ice.
He didnât ask anything more.
==========
By the time you were back at his place, the cold had worked its way deep into his bones.
The warmth of the stove chased it out slowly.
You moved through the small kitchen with practiced ease, sleeves pushed up as you prepared the nabeâingredients laid out neatly, steam already beginning to rise. Youâd mentioned learning it during your time in Kanto and Johto, and Grusha had immediately agreed it suited the mountain. Simple. Warming. Meant to be shared.
He sat beside you once everything was set to simmer, the two of you tucked under a blanket while the pot quietly did its work. The room felt smaller like thisâin a good way. Softer.
âThey are,â Grusha replied. âPeople are paying attention this time.â
You glanced at him. âAre you competing?â
âYes.â
You waited, amused. âAnd?â
He hesitated, then added, âIâve already advanced to the next round.â
Your smile came easily. âI knew you would.â
Grusha looked away, adjusting the edge of his scarf like it needed correcting. âItâs expected,â he said.
âStill,â you replied. âIâm proud of you. Youâre an incredible trainer.â
He didnât answer right awayâbut the corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly.
After a beat, he spoke again. âHow was the tour.â
You blinked, then exhaled softly. âFun! But also busy and loud. But incredible.â A pause. âAnd lonely.â
His gaze shifted back to you, attentive now.
âThe time zones made it hard,â you continued. âSchedules too. But⊠hearing from you helped. Even when it was just a few minutes.â
Grusha nodded once. âIâm glad we managed what we could.â
âMe too,â you said, smiling at him. âIt made things feel a little less far away.â
Grusha looked down at the pot, jaw tightening briefly.
âIâm glad,â he said quietly.
There was a comfortable, warm, silence between the two of you for a beat. And then:
âI donât think Paldeaâs place in the Championship happened by chance,â Grusha said after a while.
You looked at him, curious.
âThe attention,â he continued, gaze fixed on the simmering pot. âThe recognition. People didnât just notice the League.â A pause. âThey noticed you.â
You laughed softly. âI didnât do anything special.â
âThat isnât true,â he said at onceâthen caught himself, tone leveling. âYou didnât change yourself. You carried Paldea with you. That matters.â
Warmth settled in your chest. âComing from you, Iâll take that.â
He nodded, as if the matter were settled.
After a moment, he asked, âWhat was Galar like.â The question wasnât casual. You heard it in the way he asked.
âBig,â you said, smiling. âWyndon Stadium is⊠overwhelming, in a good way. Everything feels very structured. Traditional. They take their League seriouslyâthereâs a lot of ceremony.â
You paused before laughing. âI canât take Dynamax seriously, though. Itâs just gigantic pokemon fighting each other. If you ask me, terastallizing is way cooler.â
You face turned thoughtful.
âAlthough, I guess I can see the appeal in watching something like that.â
âAnd the Champion?â Grusha asked.
âLeon lives up to his reputation,â you admitted. âHeâs larger than life. The whole region revolves around that energy. But outside of the stadium, heâs very kind, sweet, and has the worst sense of direction.â
Grusha hummed quietly.
The nabe was ready soon after. You ladled it out, steam curling between you as you began to eat. The warmth spread quickly, settling in his chest.
After a few minutes of quiet eating, Grusha spoke again.
âHow long will you be staying in Paldea?â
âAt least until the qualifiers are over,â you said easily.
He nodded, relieved more than heâd expected to be.
âI actually need to visit Montenevera to see Rhyme,â you added. âI want to ask if sheâll let me borrow MC Sledge.â
Grusha paused, chopsticks hovering.
ââŠFor what purpose,â he asked, carefully neutral.
You glanced at him, eyes bright with mischief, and instead of answering, you added more from the pot into his bowl.
âYou should come with me,â you said lightly.
The words caught him off guard.
He opened his mouthâclosed it again. There was no argument he could make without sounding ridiculous. So, he accepted what youâd given him, lifted the food to his mouth, and ate. Heat rose to his cheeksânot entirely from the nabe, though he hoped youâd think it was.
You smiled like you knew better.
And Grusha, scarf loosened, shoulders finally at ease, let himself stay right thereâwarm, full, and quietly content.
Im in the trenches rn looking for grusha fanfics i checked on here, ao3, and wattpad and i have read EVERYTHING under his name i seriously need more friends đ