Markiplier Imagines (Mark X Reader)

•I'm Not Going Anywhere•

This one is a little different but I still really am enjoying writing it still (part 2 hint hint) so I hope you enjoy it as well <3 :)

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Crack.

Mark stops his footsteps, tuning his ears into the sounds of the afternoon forest. There was normally no one else out here especially at this time, so, figuring it was just a squirrel or something, he continues, messing with his backpack straps. He hiked this path probably a thousand times, very used to where he places his feet in order to minimize slips or trip-ups.

He hesitates as he sees a ring on the path in front of him, stopping to look down at it. It was a thicker ring, a seemingly expensive one too. Mark leans down, picking it up to inspect it. The ring was a thick band of silver, leaves and thorns carved into it. He looks around, a little more unnerved now that he knew someone had to have been here pretty recently besides him. Mark shakes his head at his paranoia, walking to the closest rock and setting it on top of it, continuing his hike. It really was a gorgeous day, just the right temperature and everything. The sounds of the forest near dusk came alive all around him, Mark enjoying this peace that came with it.

Crunch.

This time Mark is sure he heard it, like the footsteps of someone in the distance. That was the thing he hated most about the forest: anyone could be hiding anywhere, even a foot away without knowing it. Mark gulps, glancing around. There was no one to be seen, however, the crickets still chirping away. But, Mark not wanting to stick around to see if he was correct, turns back around, figuring he would be fine cutting it short for the day.

Mark hikes a little quicker, placing his feet carefully as he hurries, reminding himself that he was probably overthinking. Freezing, he comes back to the rock he placed the ring on, except now, the ring was gone without a trace. Mark doesn't stop, moving to a light jog on the flat parts. He liked to think of himself as a brave person, but stuff like this- he was fine with being called a wimp as long as he could still be home at the end of the day. He tries to both not look around because he was slightly scared of what he might see, but also wanting to be watchful in case he was about to stumble into something or someone he would rather not meet. Mark looks up, gasping.

"Holy-" Mark stumbles back, staring at this rough and dirty figure. It was a pretty person, as silent as a mouse, that had come up beside him by about ten feet, Mark panting. "U-Um- hi-" He stutters, brushing his hair back. "What um- can I help you?" The person just quietly regards him, but with seemingly normal mannerisms, puts their hands up as if in surrender, Mark furrowing his brows.

With a closer look, Mark sees much more than just what was on the surface. The person was clearly too thin for their stature, their arms just a little too scrawny for the body they were attached to. Their hands looked like they were covered in cuts and mud, Mark wondering how they weren't infected. All in all, they didn't exactly look nice, but looking into their eyes, Mark felt something touch his heart. Something told him that this person needed help and wasn't here to harm him, Mark blinking back up to them.

"Um- what are you doing out here? You scared the shit out of me- being so quiet, " He tries to say humorously, but the figure just stands there, gazing at him. "What are-?" Mark takes a few steps toward them, but they back away, stepping behind tree beside them and peeking from behind it. "Oh- sorry. I'm not gonna hurt you, " He says softly, copying them and lifting his hands.

Why aren't they coming out? Are they afraid of me? Why are they here? Mark turns his head at them. No backpack or anything? So they're not a hiker or something. Why aren't they answering me though? With that thought, Mark connects the dots.