I'm Here to Help You (Darkiplier x Reader)

Pandering

After an afternoon, I get over my flustered state. Don't let him get to you, [Y/N], I tell myself. It hardly works. The most aggravating part is that I'm fully aware that he's just messing with my head. I know that he's using his twisted charm to his advantage. I know that I'm affected by it.

Despite all this, I'm still falling victim to his hellish attraction. I hate it.

When I head downstairs to make myself dinner, Dark has disappeared, but I prefer it this way. I don't really want to see him, right now, or ever. I'm still confused as to what he's planning to do, but I'm certain it's not good.

Thinking back to what happened, my face heats up again. Dark's face extremely close to mine made me uncomfortable, but he's still handsome. He shares a face with Markiplier, after all. Of course the one attractive guy who flirts with me is trying to kill me, I think dejectedly. I put my head down on the kitchen counter. The cool surface barely lowers the temperature of my red cheeks. I frown, closing my eyes in deep thought.

I hate being close to people I don't know well and care about. Yet, despite that, his proximity to me also made me feel appreciated. I was still extremely uncomfortable, but there was an underlining tone of false appreciation.

He's really getting to me, I think. He's only done this for a short while and it's already messing with my feelings. I feel like Meg from Hercules – "rotten judgement" sounds about right.

I groan, getting up to fix myself some food. Too tired to care, I just heat up a pot of soup and sit on the couch. My thoughts don't allow me to enjoy the movie, however, forcing my mind back to Dark every few minutes or so. Sick of everything, I scream into a pillow, hoping the sounds of anguish were muffled enough for the neighbors to not call the cops. They don't care about me, so they won't. Who in their right mind would care about me?

Contrary to what most would believe, this thought doesn't comfort me in terms of Dark's new tactic. I know he's faking it and that he doesn't actually care. That's the point. Why is he pretending to care?

I don't find an answer in the screaming, nor in the movie, nor in the half-full lukewarm bowl of soup. Frustrated beyond belief, I throw the pillow across the room, spilling some soup in my lap in the process. I'm not that hungry, anyways. Getting up, I rinse my bowl and put it in the sink. Then, I turn off the tv and go to bed.

The moment I fall asleep, I'm sent into a dream – most likely the courtesy of Mr. D Iplier. It's not a coherent dream, but there are plenty of emotions attached to random images. It primarily consists of fuzzy images of Dark's face and that weird freezing heat in my chest and stomach. Towards the end of the night, a clearer image of Dark appears in my mind accompanied by a constricting, frigid, combustion. The twisting of my stomach and tightening in my chest rises to my throat. As my oxygen supply is cut off and the burning rises to my throat, I feel an hellacious sickness and dizziness. Just when the sensation becomes so intense I imagine that this is what death feels like, my eyes snap open. I'm panting and bathed in a cold sweat, tears are slinking down my cheeks. Little by little, the feeling dies.

It was an exhilarating dream and, for some reason, I want to feel it again.

I muster the courage to go back downstairs and face Dark in the morning. Sighing, I sit on the couch, facing away from him. Completely ignoring him, I go to Hulu and turn on South Park. Dark, though clearly finding my choice of entertainment distasteful, is enjoying my embarrassment. As he begins to move closer, I turn to him sharply.

"Don't."

Of course, he doesn't listen, smiling in his insubordination.

"Don't what?" he asks innocently. I frown.

"You know what I mean, Dark."

"Do I? Please, explain what I'm not supposed to do."

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone, Dark," I spit. He laughs at my short temper.

"You certainly get testy when someone tries to get close to you."

I roll my eyes, scooting further away from him. "You're not trying to get closer to me. You're just trying to manipulate me with your weird charm. It's not going to work, so just quit it already."

"Ah, [Y/N], perceptive as ever. You're a bit too observant sometimes, and that might just be an issue for me. Then again," while speaking he had moved in front of me, standing on his knees on the floor in front of the couch, completely cornering me, "intelligence is rather... attractive."

I shake my head firmly, squeezing my eyes shut as my cheeks heat up. "Nope, nuh-uh. Stop it. I don't want to hear your pandering praise." Though I don't open my eyes, I can feel him moving closer to me – a mass moves over my legs and a cold breath dances across my face. I shiver as his arms move to either side of me.

"Open your eyes, [Y/N]," he rumbles. Obviously, I refuse. "[Y/N]..." I shake my head. "Open your eyes, [Y/N]."

Against my will, my eyes snap open, meeting his black ones. The freezing heat returns. This is extremely sudden. Originally, he was clear about how he doesn't care about me. Why would he change his strategy so quickly? Wouldn't he rather transition slowly so I'd trust him more? Is he so confident in his abilities that he thinks it won't matter?–

"So," my thoughts are interrupted by his voice, "what would it take for me to earn your trust?"

I'm surprised by the question. Why would he... What? I stare at him blankly for a moment before answering, "Um... I guess it just takes time and proof. You haven't shown me that I can trust you with my mental health, physical health, or anyone else's wellbeing. Not to mention the fact that you don't have the greatest track record."

Dark's expression shifts, showing that he's contemplating what I've said. I still don't quite understand what he wants. He can just take whatever it is, can't he? Why does he need to gain my trust?

"I suppose that's fair."

With that, he stands and prepares to leave. Before he does, however, Dark leans over and places his frosty lips on my forehead. I stiffen, even more shocked by this action than his question. My mind struggles to make sense of what just happened. Though the contact wasn't long, the cool tingling remains on my skin for what feels like forever. The contact felt toxic, but oddly soothing. The suited demon leaves with a knowing grin and a small bow.

"Goodbye, for now, [Y/N]."

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "I'm Here to Help You" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue