some-dark-side-writing:

Bad Night

Darkiplier x reader

Request: 2 words Darkiplier👏fluff👏 (Go crazy with it!!!!)

You were laying your legs on top of Dark when he got the call. Back on the armrest of the sofa you looked to Dark while you paused the movie you were watching. He sighed before pressing answer. “Hello. Wilf…William- calm down.” He shot a glance to you before moving your legs off and jumping off the couch to go into another room to talk.

He came out of the room quite quickly, unusual for his calls and hastily grabbed his coat. “I have to go and see Will.” He explained, coming up to you and taking your hands in his. “He’s… he’s not well again, I’m sorry Y/N relaxing will have to wait.” He looked to you with doe eyes and furrowed eyebrows, clearly upset he had to leave but just as equally upset for his friend. “It’s okay.” You assured him, rubbing over his knuckles with your thumb. “He needs you. Go.” Dark sighed, content your understood and kissed your cheek goodbye.

It had just become dusk when you put the movie on yet it was many hours into the night and Dark still hadn’t come home. You considered calling him but knew how Wilford could be when he was like this. You’d seem it first hand even though Dark had tried to protect you from it ; you’d been styling Wilford’s hair and he was so excited about the ‘playdate’, when you’d finished you pushed him in front of your hall mirror so he could see the final result but he seemed to be staring into it for eons, that was before he smashed it on the ground then begged for someone to be in there. That was the day Dark showed you the videos detailing his past, that he’d begged you many times to not watch. It was really only after that he started being vulnerable with you, after you assured him that you still loved him – and Wilford in a platonic way – no matter their past.

You didn’t hear the door open that night because Dark, too tired from its events, used his void to apparate to you, something he didn’t do often as it seemed to give him a headache, and you threw your arms around his neck once he spoke your name from behind you. You sighed against his shoulder, just pleased he was back but Dark was frozen like a block of ice. You frowned, pecking his jaw but he still made no move to counter your affections. You took a step back and noticed he wasn’t even looking at you, his eyes were chained to the floor, hands nervously folding over each other and when you went to hold them, even though he flinched back momentarily, you realised the fiddling was to hide the fact they were shaking hard.

He tugged his hands out of yours, eyeing the upstairs floor as if he could just run and go to sleep but you pulled him back over to the couch. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You asked. Dark voluntarily sat on your lap, knees resting either side of you as he almost swayed, still averting his eyes from your face, but at least now he was focusing on your hands that he was playing with.

You really wanted to help the man you loved who right now looked so lost. “Hey” you whispered, your fingers ghosting the scruff on the right side of his face as he firmly kept your left hand, leaning into your touch more as your palm cupped his cheek and your fingertips grazed through his hair. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

It was barely audible but since you were about the only people awake right now it didn’t matter. He scented your hand, inhaling softly, tension releasing as his shoulders rolled back and he pressed a kiss to the bottom of your palm. You were about to ask again, before he slowly grumbled “Him thinking it was real, just had to think about it all again.” When he was done speaking his eyes dragged to yours, looking at you kind sympathy filled eyes for just one second before he closed his and brought his hand up to yours, pressing your warmth against his cool skin more, he even let out a purr once or twice.

“You’re a good guy Dark.”

He sighed, obviously thinking you were using cheap cliches he felt didn’t work in his case to make him feel better but you couldn’t be sure what he was thinking.

“Are you mad at me?” His eyes snapped open, almost shock filling them as he leaned over and his scruff tickled the base of your throat, his nose drawing patterns on your neck. “How could I ever be mad at you?” He scooted closer, holding your head in his hands as he spoke seriously. “You accepted me for who I am. You accepted my mistakes, past and present and you made me feel like life… well that I have a life, and there’s more to it than pain.” He stroked down your cheek, and slowly his lips travelled to rest against the top of your forehead, closing his eyes you could feel him breathing, calmly, against you. “Can you hold me a little longer?” He stiffened after asking before you agreed, shaking once before all he moved was his chest as he breathed and his shoulders as he relaxed even more – shaking, for the one fear that made a chill crawl up his spine, that was loosing you.