Markiplier Egos || Oneshots + Headcanons

♡🌻 What are you afraid of? [Bim Trimmer x Reader] 🌻♡

A game show. A simple old game show. That's all it was supposed to be. You had nothing to be concerned about. And yet, a deep part of your mind wasn't truly surprised by the blood now lightly splattered where a fellow contestant had previously stood.
You had to get away. That's the only thing you knew. You had run backstage. The stench of fresh blood still hung in the air, choking you with its visceral aroma. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins when you managed to reach the old closet where you now resided.

You let yourself take a deep breath. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.
I've seen this show thousands of times, you thought to yourself in shock. This has never happened. The contestants were always just hidden offstage, there was never any blood.
Of course with your luck, this had happened. Someone was dead. In an attempt to gain more points for the show, they had ended their own life. This was your fault, wasn't it? Somehow, you told yourself, this was all your doing.

Voices echoed through the halls outside. They were looking for you. They couldn't let you get away. They had never let a contestant get away before.
Of course, a contestant had never seen a death before, either. Some machinery malfunctioned, causing the death to be visible to those in the studio. Thank god the show wasn't filmed live.

Footsteps. Drawing nearer. Someone knew you were here.
The knob turned. Fate would decide what these people would do to you. You had witnessed too much. Far too much to be kept alive.
The closet door opened with a creak, a sound that was eerily similar to the sound of very faint screaming. A well-dressed man stepped inside the spacious closet, closing the door behind him and flipping the light switch to see you better. You could clearly see the man's face. It was the host of the show himself. A certain Bim Trimmer.

"I was under the impression that you would be a bit better at hiding." His smirk was crooked and a bit too playful for the situation you were in.
You tried to get further away from him, to no avail. Your back pressed against the shelves of the closet, and you could feel the wooden boards threatening to bruise your skin if you pushed back much further.

"We haven't had an incident such as this in quite some time," Trimmer lamented, shaking his head with faux shame. "You're now the single outlier in our perfect record."

You tried to respond. Maybe to reprimand such a twisted man, maybe to apologise despite your innocence. Unfortunately, the words caught in your throat like a fly in a web.
Bim could sense your weakness. He knew he had the power in this situation. He had you in the palm of his hand.

"What are you afraid of, Mx. L/n?" The host stepped closer to you. You had nowhere to go, and you both knew it.
He stepped closer once more. "Are you afraid of death, perhaps?"
At his next step, he was now uncomfortably close to you. "Are you afraid of being alone, abandoned?"
Bim rested his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You were painfully aware of the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
"Or maybe," he murmured, his warm breath heating your exposed skin, "Are you afraid of me?"

You wanted to speak up. You wanted to say no, or try to run, or do anything other than stand there, helpless and intimidated. But every cell in your body was fighting against your better judgement. All you could muster was a shaky breath.

The fancily-dressed man pulled his head away enough to look you in the eyes. The way he gazed at you gave you the feeling that he could read every little thought in your head.
"I'm not going to harm you, Mx. [L/n]. You intrigue me. More so than any ordinary contestant." He smiled, a smile sweet as honey but equally as sinister. "However, you can't just waltz off, what with all of the things you've seen."

Bim carefully cupped your face in his hands. The adrenaline previously running through you was running low, and you felt drowsy. Despite everything, you couldn't help but notice how gently he held you. It felt nice, in a way. The host smiled at you again, though this smile seemed more sincere.

"If you truly are afraid of me, dear, you'll have to face your fears a lot more from now on."