Markiplier X Reader

Chapter VII - (Y/N)

On the quick drive back to Mark's... Uh... Our house, all I can think of is his unending generosity. Why would he ever want to help a girl like me this much? I wonder. However, I decide not to question him. No one else will ever be this kind to me and I shouldn't push him too hard about it. I just fear that I'll get too comfortable and then he will take everything he's given me back.

I also can't help but think about how utterly attractive he is, not just physically, but spiritually. Despite my fears, I know deep down that he is a good person. His love for helping people is so incredibly sexy.

But there's also the fact that he really is sexy in all aspects of the word. His physique is astounding and the way his muscles shift as he does even the most minute things is stunning. And his voice is so velvety that I can't help but think of it as sensual. When he showers, part of me can't help but think about joining him.

But a bigger part of me reminds me that I can't. He would find me repulsive. The scars I have all over my body would scare him away and I can never let him see them. Therefore I can never act on my feelings and impulses toward him. I can only ever wear long sleeves around him and I can never dare to wear short shorts.

When we finally pull into his driveway, he turns off the radio. We grab the bags and head inside. "I'm going to take these upstairs to my room real quick. I'll be right back," I say.

I begin taking the shirts and pants and stuff out of the bag, tearing off the tags. Shit, I think. I forgot to get underwear. That will have to wait for another day.

As I take the last pair of jeans out of one of the bags, I notice another bag hidden in it. From it I remove a black one piece bathing suit with the tag already torn off. My nerves spike and I instantly feel like I can't breathe.

He has a pool! I remember. Of course he would want to go swimming sometimes!

I have no idea what to do. I can't wear this bathing suit! It would expose way too many of my scars. I shove it under my pillow and calm myself down after a few minutes. I'll just pretend like I never saw it.

I stay in my room for a few more minutes before going back downstairs. Mark has a big smile on his face at the bottom of the stairs, obviously pleased that he surprised me with a gift.

"What's the goofy look for?" I ask, trying to mask my nerves.

"I think you know already," he says, mischievously. "Today is just so warm so I figured we could swim a bit."

"I... Don't know what you're talking about," I say all too quickly. He catches on pretty fast.

"Did you not like the bathing suit? Was it not your size? I know you saw it, you must've," he says, concerned.

I sigh. How do I tell him that I don't want to go swimming because I don't want him to see my scars? "Look, Mark," I begin, slowly. "It's not that I didn't like the bathing suit." I stop.

After a few seconds, Mark replies, "What was it?" I can see that he's upset, though I think his disappointment is directed at himself rather than at me.

"I just... Don't like swimming," I half-lie. "It freaks me out." I really do like swimming, but wearing the bathing suit is what really makes me uncomfortable.

Mark nods understandingly. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I didn't realize... It won't happen again, I promise. I'll ask you before I do stuff like that," he apologizes.

"It's okay, we all make mistakes," I respond. I feel bad for lying, but I can't tell him the truth. What would he think of me?

Mark says nothing and walks solemnly to the living room. He turns on the TV and starts watching Whose Line Is It Anyway which should be making him laugh, but isn't quite doing the job.

I join him on the couch and we sit there for a few minutes, neither of us knowing what to say. We both stare at the TV, only half absorbing the jokes.

"Did you record all of your videos for today?" I ask.

Mark nods but doesn't say anything. He doesn't even look at me.

"Do you want to play a game?"

Mark shakes his head in response. Does he just not want to do anything? I wonder.

"Look, Mark. I'm really sorry. I just really don't do swimming," I explain.

"No it's not your fault," Mark cuts me off. "I should've asked you. I should've considered that you might not like swimming. And now I've made you feel bad. I should be the one apologizing." He puts his head in his hands and sighs.

I scoot toward him to rub his back. "Mark, it's okay. You didn't know that," I start.

"I should've asked!" he cuts me off again.

"You didn't know!" I yell in response. "Mark, it's fine. I'm not upset. You didn't know and now you do. People make mistakes. You're only human. You've done so much for me already, I'm not going to freak out over an accident that wasn't even harmful."

"Yeah, I guess," Mark replies.

After a few more minutes of silence, Mark asks, "Do you still want to play a game?"

"Of course!" I eagerly respond. "What should we play?"

Mark thinks for a moment before deciding on Mario Kart. "We should record it for my channel. I like to get ahead when I can so that I have extra videos in case of an emergency," Mark explains.

"Alright," I agree. "But if I lose and cry like a baby, you better edit it out." We both laugh. However, it gets a little less funny as we start playing and I realize that Mark is significantly better at the game than I am. I hit almost everything thrown at me and run into a few walls on the way, too. I hear Mark laughing at my grunts of frustration and I begin to laugh with him.

I put the controller down and just laugh at myself. "What a silly thing to get so frustrated over," I tease myself. "It's just a game." I continue laughing a bit.

"I hear ya," Mark replies. "Gaming is basically my job, especially frustrating games like I Am Bread and Mario Maker and things like that. Yet I still can't help myself from breaking the occasional controller or mouse," he jokes.

I look over to see the camera and remember that everything I'm saying is being recorded. "You're going to edit that out, right?" I ask.

"Oh I'm actually live-streaming this. I forgot to tell you," he replies.

I feel my face flush red in embarrassment and Mark laughs. "I'm kidding!" he laughs. "If this were a live-stream then I'd be taking the time to read and respond to comments," Mark continues to explain.

I playfully hit Mark in the arm. "Don't do that to me! I almost had a heart attack," I yell. Mark pretends to be hurt and I act as though I'm scorning him.

After we finish playing and Mark records his outro, he asks if I really want him to delete any of what I had said. I think about it for a moment before deciding that it was okay and I wasn't that embarrassed by it. But it was really nice of him to ask.

Maybe he really is a good person, after all.

A/N: Sorry this one took a little while. I just started a new job and I'm getting used to a new schedule. Thanks for reading!