Don't Fear the Dark [Grimsley x Reader]

The girl lost count of how many times she had challenged the Elite Four. At least a dozen; she was sure of that much. But it was the last member that she always chose to face who caused her to turn back running and lose the challenge.

Grimsley, the Dark-type master.

“Damn,” (name) murmured to herself as she stared at the ornate red door which would take her to his quarters. Her legs shook slightly and her bottom lip was becoming sore from chewing on it in nervousness. Neither Marshall nor Caitlyn nor even Shauntal had posed much of a problem to her - no, it was always him.

The girl had always been afraid of the dark. Ever since she was little, the inky blackness of the night’s shadows had given her chills. (Name) couldn’t exactly remember how or why she’d developed such a harrowing phobia to the dark but now, at the age of eighteen and having been travelling the Unova region for nearly four years, it was still prominent. Too prominent for her liking.

“I have to do it now.” Her fingers tightened into a fist as she inched closer to the door. “I’ve beaten the other three countless times - I can’t keep letting him ruin my chance of becoming Champion!”

But that was easier said than done.

At least with Shauntal’s chamber, the ghost fires had lit immediately. As soon as (name) had stepped foot in on the carpet, in fact. But in Grimsley’s chambers…

He had the nasty habit of using her achluophobia against her and refusing to light the torches the moment he realized it was (name) who had entered.

And then there was the topic of his Pokemon. Nasty brutes, Dark types - (name) feared them almost more than the dark itself because they were the very embodiment of it. With fangs and claws and red eyes and grinning jaws ready to tear her apart…

The mere thought made (name) step back a bit and shiver once more.

I’m so pathetic, the (h/c) girl thought to herself harshly. Allowing myself to be held back by a pretentious bastard who likes to toy with his victims. I’ve battled countless of people worse than him, for God’s sake! I shouldn’t let him get to me!

It just wasn’t fair that the Pokemon League had allowed a man like Grimsley to become a member of the Elite Four.

“Better get this over with,” (name) reprimanded as she took out a Pokeball, glancing down at it. Lucario, the obvious choice for a Dark-type master. Of course, there had only been a handful of times where she’d actually gotten the courage to challenge Grimsley instead of turning tail and racing back out of the inky-black chamber in a panic. She wasn’t sure what his exact strategy was and how he prepared for type matchups.

All she knew was that she was the Wurmple and he was the Ariados, spinning a web of confounding and terrifying darkness.

A warm, comforting aura slowly made its way up from her hand to her heart, and (name) smiled as she looked back down at the Pokeball in her hand. Her precious partners always knew when she needed their support and Lucario, being an aura reader, was the most sensitive to her emotions. “Go on,” she knew was what he was telling her. “We’re here for you.”

“All right,” (name) nodded shakily and took a deep breath, steeling herself as she placed her free hand on the door handle. “I can do this. I have my Pokemon with me. I will not let the dark or Grimsley get to me this time.”

And, with that, she pushed open the door and stepped into the Dark-type trainer’s chamber.

The heavy doors slammed shut with a bang that echoed throughout the black room. (Name) felt the familiar sensations of panic clawing at her chest; the shortness of breath, the dizziness, the way her skin felt like it was on fire and all she wanted to do was run. But no - she couldn’t, not this time. She had to beat Grimsley.

(Name) took a trembling step forward. The atmosphere clung to her every atom, pushing and pushing and seeming to mock her as nothing but silence met her uneven breathing, which seemed so damn loud.

What seemed like a decade but in reality was only a minute passed until finally (name) found the air to say as loudly as she dared, “Grimsley, I know you’re in here. I’m not running away this time. Turn on the lights and let’s battle already, you damn son of a bitch.”

Rich laughter made its way around the chamber, which surprised her more than she cared to admit. Without warning the torches on either side of the staircase suddenly blazed to life, illuminating the spacious alcove in a - and (name) hated to admit this - most favorable manner. The carpet was a deep scarlet, like the color of blood, and led up the spiral staircase to where, at the top, Grimsley lay. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was gorgeous and innate and lit even the darkest of corners, which (name) was utterly grateful for. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began to walk forward up the curving staircase, knowing that with each step she was getting closer to her nightmares incarnate.

She got there faster than she wanted to.

And, when she did, he was right there waiting for her.

He was darker than the Pokemon he commanded as he sat on his golden throne. Black, silky and messy hair that framed a pale yet handsome face, with cobalt-blue eyes and a smirk that seemed never ending. His clothes - a well-tailored black and red suit that adhered to him perfectly and a bright yellow scarf that contrasted so strangely - reminded her of a vampire, almost. Hell, he could have been one, what with the suave darkness that embraced him like a lover.

“Welcome, (name).” His smirk grew as he spoke, eying her carefully. “I’ve been expecting you.”  Grimsley’s voice was like silk and it made her sick. Part of the reason she despised him so much was...was...well, she had to face it - he was charming, attractive, and it just didn’t mix well.

“Of course you have,” she growled, proud of the fact that she was still standing. “You always do. Let me just ask you, Grimsley...why did you turn the lights on? Don’t you enjoy seeing me run away?”

He shrugged in a leisurely manner. “I was getting bored of our game. I’d like to battle you, (name). I’ve heard how your skills have improved over the past few months of challenging my cohorts. Besides, I’m a gentleman - how dare I use a woman’s fear of the dark against her?”

He was totally playing her.

There was no explanation.

(Name) glowered at the man sitting before her. Out of habit she slid Lucario’s Pokeball back into her bag, straightening herself up. “That’s never stopped you before.”

He spread his arms out, standing up at last and taking a few steps toward her, his motions lazy yet grandiose. “Oh, come now, let’s put the past behind us, shall we? It was rude of me, I admit, but you must understand that the Elite Four is the pinnacle of trainers. We exist to make your fears a reality and, unlike most challengers, you fear the dark above all.”

Oh, good God, I want to do nothing more but punch that smug face of his.

“You are a pompous bastard,” (name) stated dryly as anger simmered through her. “For all the trouble you’ve put me through, I should just demand to be sent to the Champion without a battle. But I won’t, because I’m a Pokemon trainer too - I’ll defeat you and my fear of the dark once for all and become Champion of Unova. Got it, Grimsley?”

Grimsley’s mouth opened in response but no words came out. Before he could answer, every single light in the room died in an instant - the torches on the staircase, the candles in the chandelier, and whatever other lights that were cleverly hidden within the area.

(Name) froze. Hysteria slowly crept up on her as her bag slipped off of her shoulder, (e/c) eyes squeezing shut and leg muscles threatening to give way. Somewhere far away a once pompous and velvety voice was saying her name with utmost concern, but she blocked it all out. The shadows grew, moving and slithering towards her, and (name) couldn’t breathe.

“Help,” she whispered, voice barely a crack above the thrum of blood in her ears. She stumbled forward, just to get farther away from whatever monsters lay in wait behind her, utter terror taking charge.

When she moved forward, however, she ran into something. Something soft yet solid, smelling like cologne and comfort.

“H-hey, (name), are you alright?” It was Grimsley. Of course it was him - he just had to be the one to see her full panic mode. (Name) couldn’t answer, paralyzed as she just stood against him, unable to move. In the darkness Grimsley gave a (surprisingly) concerned grunt and suddenly there were arms around her, tight and unwilling to move.

“This is a power outage, (name). That’s all. I had nothing to do with this, I swear. I meant it when I said I was no longer going to tease you with the dark. It’s...it’s going to be alright, okay?”

“Shut...up,” she managed to get out, still frozen in his embrace. It was odd - the physical contact didn’t sicken her but, instead, made her feel...safer. And she didn’t know how to react to that. “You expect me...to believe you?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly and even in the darkness, she knew he was nodding. “I swear it on my induction into the Elite Four.” When she didn’t answer to that, Grimsley added with a tone of worry, “How do you...normally deal with this?”

“My Pokemon,” (name) whispered. “But I-I dropped my bag and...I-I can’t see. They...they’ll just h-hold me or whatever until the lights are o-on.”

“...then I suppose that’s what I’ll have to do as well.” Grimsley’s arms tightened around her and (name)’s eyes snapped open, wide as saucers as she stared out into the blackness. Hot breath fanned her face, an inclination to his close proximity, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. His scent - so clean and masculine as opposed to his almost gambler appearance - wafted into her nostrils and (name) felt herself grow even dizzier.

What…?

“Don’t be afraid of the dark, (name),” Grimsley murmured in her ear, his voice an octave lower. “I’ll protect you in it. The dark isn’t always bad, dear girl, just sometimes. Once you conquer your fear of it, well...darkness can be your friend.”

(Name) was dumbstruck as his arms slid down a couple inches lower, hands resting on her waist. “Just like me,” he continued to whisper, tone sincere as her eyesight began to adjust to the lack of light. “I...I’d like for you to see me as someone you can count on, (name). So please...just this once, let me…”

He never finished his sentence.

Instead, to (name)’s absolute shock, a pair of warm and smooth lips met hers. They were gentle and kind, resting on her skin so lightly that she could almost believe they weren’t there. But they were, and they were his. Grimsley’s. He was kissing her - her, the achluophobic - and his hands were on her hips and he was right there in front of her and it was dark and everything felt so right.

Without thinking, (name) began to respond back. Slowly, uncertainly, she kissed him too. Her hands found their way to his chest, resting on them in content as her head tilted back, his mouth following as it parted from her lips and made its way down to her throat. Small, luscious kisses planted themselves all over her skin, his tongue smooth and it glided across and made little swirls every so often. An inhuman noise escape her parted lips as (name)’s fingers gripped the fabric of his tuxedo tightly, one hand moving up to grasp a handful of his hair. She never would have imagined ever being in this situation - kissing Grimsley of the Elite Four in a completely dark room, and loving every single goddamn moment of it.

“G-Grimsley,” she got out as his teeth nipped playfully at the nape of her neck, his thumbs moving in circular motions on her hips and a couple of fingers sliding a few millimeters between her pants and skin. “Oh…”

She’d never felt like this before. Never.

“(Name),” Grimsley purred as his lips left her skin, leaving her feel empty. “You have...absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Ever since the first day you ran away from my chambers...my dear, sweet (name)...I wanted to show you the other side of the dark.”

His grip tightened as suddenly he pulled her even closer; intoxicatingly so. “The utterly pleasurable and delicious side.”

His mouth crashed into hers with more force than before and this time she was ready for it. Their lips parted instantly, tongues cautiously yet eagerly meeting in a passionate tango as they tasted every inch of one another. Grimsley was exquisite - succulent and refined, the night personified into one human being. And it didn’t frighten (name) anymore. Not one bit. She wanted more of it. As much as she could withstand.

She wanted Grimsley and the only thing that frightened her was just how much she desired his touch.

A moan rumbled up deep in her chest, shameful and wanton as they continued to weave their web of fervent ecstasy. He was guiding yet forceful, hitting all the right places; kissing her so harshly that it was tender, hands rubbing and stroking every place that longed for it. Grimsley chuckled as she tugged on his hair roughly, impatiently, whimpering as his fingers glided delicately across the bare skin beneath her shirt.

It was absolutely luxurious, being in the arms of a Dark master with the shadows dancing around them.

It seemed like an eternity before the two finally broke apart, panting and shivering as they gazed at one another. (Name)’s eyesight had adjusted to the darkness at last and she stood there, (e/c) eyes boring into his azurine ones, and she groaned out huskily, “Oh my God...that was…”

“Perfect,” Grimsley finished in a purr, nuzzling her hot cheek with his own as he held her firmly. “Completely and utterly perfect.”

“Y-yeah,” she nodded in agreement, struggling to breathe properly as she leaned slanted against him blissfully. “Perfect…”

They stood there in each other’s embrace, listening to the sound of their breathing returning to normal as the fire in their veins at last began to die down. Without warning the lights suddenly flashed back on, blinding (name)’s eyes for a moment. When she blinked rapidly and gained sight once more, the picture before her made her blush even harder - Grimsley, his clothes skewed and hair messy and out of place, lips chapped and pale cheeks redder than a Cheri berry.

Grimsley smirked down at her and she didn’t need him to tell her that her appearance was of the same fate. “The power’s back on,” he said in an arousing, raspy tone. “It lights the charcoal in the torches and chandelier, you see...but I don’t think the dark bothers you any longer.”

“Well, you’re correct on that assumption,” she gave out a weak laugh, lips curling into a shy smile as she gazed up at him. “...th-thank you, Grimsley.”

“It was a pleasure, my dear (name).” The Dark-type member of the Elite Four gave a wider smirk and licked his lips, gaze heady as it lingered over her. “And I truly mean that...it was a pleasure. Now, where were we…? Ah, yes! I believe you were challenging me to a battle?”

From that day on, (name) was cured (mostly) of her achluophobia...but it didn’t stop her from returning to the Elite Four time and time again - and she always made sure Grimsley’s chamber stayed dark.