Discipline (Yandere Darkiplier x Reader)

Introduction

(Oh yeah, this is happening.

Cover isn't mine.

TRIGGER WARNING. SEE THIS? TRIGGER WARNING. Dark is a demon, he's a bastard. Things don't go well, he's abusive and all that shit.

If you don't want to read about rape, then you may not want to read this one.)

He smiled, his eyes lighting up amidst it. How could he not? Having you around was a blast, being friends was something he thoroughly enjoyed.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "their wedding was beautiful. Wade looked so happy. Pretty sure he cried." Mark drained his glass, chuckling. "Molly looked gorgeous, but hey, she was the bride. Course she would."

You nodded in understanding. Mark had just gotten back from one of his best friends' weddings, having been a groomsman, and wanted to catch up when he returned home.

The dark-haired male sighed and groaned. "I think I've got jet lag," he complained with a grimace. "I haven't been feeling well all day."

This made you frown. "Do you wanna go home?"

"No!" he cried, waving his hands. "I'll be fine! I wanted to catch up with you, so I'll just, you know, power through it." You were still concerned, knowing his medical history. He eyed you with skepticism. "I didn't drink any alcohol, if that's what you're thinking."

"No, Mark. Well... yeah, I guess. It was a wedding."

"I'm not stupid." You frowned, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. I just made this completely awkward. Do you want me to drive you home?"

You looked down at the alcohol you'd been having, and realized you were too buzzed to drive back. "No," you spoke slowly, beginning to smile. "No reason to cut this short. Let's go back to your place. You can record and I'll watch, like we used to. I'll even keep Chica company," you added. You adored that dog.

Mark smiled back, nodding and standing up to put his coat on. "Sounds good to me."

•●♡●•

Chica was all smiles when you walked through the door, her feet tapping on the hardwood flooring as her tail wagged. You knelt down and pet her affectionately. "Who's a good girl? Did you miss me?"

Mark chuckled. "Her toys are in her playpen off to the side, but don't give her any treats. Pretty sure I gave her enough today."

Pouting, you nodded. "What are you going to play?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I'll have to look to see what I've got." He wandered away, guiding you towards his office. Chica followed behind you, her tail still wagging.

Struck with a wave of nostalgia, you smiled again. "You've got a hell of a set-up now."

Pushing hair from his face with one hand, his other remained on his stomach. "Fuck, maybe recording is a bad idea," the male murmured. "I'm sorry," he added, suddenly brushing past you rapidly. Probably towards the bathroom. Sure enough, you heard him getting sick inside.

Fuck. He's sick and I'm drunk. So much for catching up.

The alcohol was making you dizzy, so you meandered your way into the living room, sinking into the couch. Chica whined a little, going from you to the bathroom door. Eyes squeezed shut, you called out, "Do you want me to get you anything?" Mark didn't respond, and you sighed.