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otterlyinluv · 2 years ago

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A touch of darkness (pt.2)

Here's part 1

Summary: What happened after the office incident OR in which Yancy tries to eat breakfast and Wilford becomes a matchmaker

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, fluffy, jealous Dark, proximity, thunderstorm, comfort, confessions and realisations

A/N: I apologize for the long wait, I actually finished it earlier but I decided to scrap the last third and rewrite it completely- Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.9k

"So you like Mr. Doom and gloom, so what?"

You almost choked on the chocolate milk Wilford made you.

"No, that doesn't make sense. Nothing even happened. He just fixed my computer, and then I felt weird."

Wilford raised an eyebrow at you.

"My dear, you might not see it, but you look like a lovesick fool."

Your face started to feel warm.

"No, I do not! I came for advice, Wilford, but now I know I chose the wrong person." You stood up from the armchair, leaving the chocolate milk on the desk, when Wilford started to wave his arms around.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop." He grabbed you by the shoulders and plopped you back on the armchair.

"Now," he said, no longer in the spot he was a second ago. His little teleporting shenanigans didn't bother you as much as they did during the first months of your stay at the mansion. Whenever he suddenly disappeared and reappeared at a completely different place, you'd always get a mini heart attack, which lead to him doing it even more frequently to mess with you. What you hadn't realized then was he did it only to get you used to things that weren’t exactly normal. Wilford was a good guy at heart even if his methods were a bit... unconventional.

"Since you don't believe me, we'll go about it in a different way." You turned around to where he was. He made you stand up from the chair and gripped your hands.

"Which thoughts race through your head like fluttering butterflies frolicking in a field when he’s with you? How does he make you feel in general?"

The corner of your mouth turned up at the metaphor, and you looked off into the distance. After the encounter in your office, you started bumping into each other far more frequently than before. Or maybe you noticed him more. And when you did see each other, his gaze seemed to linger on you a suspiciously long time. Whenever you made eye contact during meetings, you felt a flutter in your chest. A flutter you didn't feel with anyone else.

You looked at Wilford with a sense of epiphany. His eyes seemed to light up.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dark said, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

You ripped your hands from Wilfords'.

"Oh, Darkie. Why we were just having a lovely chat, nothing for you to worry about." Wilford drawled, putting his arm over your shoulder.

Dark's eyes darted to your shoulder, and his gaze hardened. The colored aura that surrounded him seemed to gain a more blue hue. It only lasted a couple of seconds before he rolled his neck.

"Excuse me." He suddenly ran off out of the room, his fists clenched.

You saw Wilford grinning out of the corner of your vision as he put his arm away from you.

"Wilford, what did you do?" You said, glaring at him.

"I just gave him a little push, that's all."

You really wanted some cereal.

The mansion was pleasantly quiet because you liked to wake up earlier than everyone else. While listening to Illinois boast about all his adventures or Google try to subtly persuade you to grant him admin privileges was entertaining once in a while, it wasn't something you wanted to do first thing in the morning.

You were able to find your favorite brand of cereal, a spoon, and some milk. The only thing that was missing was a bowl. You looked into the cupboard where the bowls usually were, but there were none. You wondered who kept misplacing the contents of the cupboards and kept searching.

Still nothing.

You grabbed a chair to stand on so you could reach the cupboards that were higher up. You carefully stood up on it and opened the one closest to you. Finally!

Unfortunately for you, the bowls were on the top shelf. You huffed and stood on your tiptoes. After stretching your arm as far as you could, you were finally able to grab a suitable bow.

But you leaned back so suddenly you lost your balance. You flailed your arms in a futile attempt to regain stability. You mentally prepared yourself to come into contact with the cold hard floor when you felt someone grab your waist to support you.

You let out a relieved breath only to look down at the grey hands, which were now firmly holding you in place. The area which the hands were in contact with was completely devoid of color. You turned around to see Dark without his signature jacket, his eyes wide. You were frozen, but your skin burned where his hands were.

"You should be more careful. You would have fallen if I hadn't gotten to you in time."

You couldn't move. The only thing you felt was the oddly gentle hold he had on you. The bowl, which you were now holding safely, was the last of your worries.

"Still as clumsy as ever," he chuckled under his breath. His thumbs twitched, and you blinked at each other in realization of your compromising position.

He cleared his throat as he stepped back as if burned, removing his hands in the process. You carefully got down from the chair.

It was so quiet you could almost hear his aura crackle in the air like static.

"I, uh... Thank you for... that."

"You are welcome," he said quietly.

You were looking at the ground, your face strangely warm. Your gaze traveled to his shirt, the first two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands bordered with blue and red the hands that held you were now hanging at his sides.

You stared too long. You could feel him looking at you. You glanced at him.

He was looking straight at you. So intensely that you felt like he could see directly into your soul. So expressively, his eyes seemed more brown than black.

He took a shuddering breath.

"Is youse making cereal? Leave some for me!" Your head jolted to Yancy standing in the doorway.

Dark snapped out of whatever trance he was in and promptly left the room with no parting words.

"Woah, what got him so worked up?" Yancy walked to you as you looked at the door, deep in thought.

"I'd like to know that too."

After having finished your perfect bowl of cereal, it was back to sitting in your tiny office. Normally, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Nothing special, just you sitting behind your desk working at your computer. Except you weren't. You couldn't.

Not when whenever you closed your eyes, you could remember Dark standing over you so clearly. Your little... encounter happened a few weeks ago, yet you still couldn't focus properly while you were here. It took you at least half an hour to distract yourself enough to at least start working. It was frustrating, but there wasn't much you could do. Talk to him about it when he has most likely forgotten about it already? Yeah, sure.

Now that you thought about it, there was something else that was making you unfocused today. Why did Dark look like he wanted to murder Wilford when he was just being touchy as usual?

And this morning... He just caught you out of politeness so you wouldn't fall flat on your face. Or maybe he just didn't want you to break the bowl. You didn't allow yourself to even consider the possibility that maybe he didn't want to see you hurt. And the way his hands stayed on your waist just a few seconds more... Boy, did you forget how to talk then.

Maybe you were looking into it too much. Sure, he was nicer than before, but he could simply be more comfortable with you. As a friend. Yeah, that must be it.

Satisfied with your thinking session, you were ready to get to work.

Your concentration was disturbed by the sound of your door opening, followed by a thud of something heavy being dumped in, and then the door immediately slammed shut again.

You looked up from your computer to a sight you never would have expected - Dark rapping at the door, violently shaking the door handle.

"Now Damie, remember what I told you. If you want something, go get it!" Wilford slurred, his voice muffled by the door.

"Wilford, open the door this instant, or I swear I will kill you. I am serious."

"Oh, promises, promises. Focus your energy on the important things!" Wilford's voice faded away as he supposedly walked away from the door.

"That insufferable..." he mumbled to himself, turning around.

His clothes were wrinkled as if someone tried to physically push him into the room but was met with resistance. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Uhm, welcome, I guess."

He sighed. "Hi."

"So, what happened for you to end up here of all places?" You leaned on your arm. It might have been an unexpected situation, but that didn't mean you weren't going to enjoy it. Dark, on the other side, seemed really determined to fulfill his promise to Wilford. "When Wil sets his mind to something, nothing can stop him. Not even me." He tried to open the door to emphasize his point, and as expected, it didn't budge.

"Can you not get out by... other means?" You never really knew how his powers worked. And you doubted he would tell you even if you did ask.

"No. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to completely lock me out -" He looked around. "-or in. Technically."

As his eyes surveyed the room, you realized how small it was. It was enough for you, but Dark seemed to fill a big part of the room just with the colored aura that surrounded him. Come to think of it, why was he standing so far away from where you were?

"Well, I'm guessing we're going to be here for some time, so why don't we sit down somewhere more comfortable?" You pointed to a light brown sofa leaning against a wall. His eyes followed your hand to the middle-sized sofa. You winced. You didn't want to make it awkward for him to sit down there alone, but maybe he would rather you didn't sit with him. Why didn't you just ask him what he wanted in the first place-

He simply nodded and sat on the sofa. Having no other choice, you plopped down next to him.

Small raindrops started hitting the window.

You turned to say something to fill the silence at the same time as he did, which resulted in you looking away from each other. He let out the quietest chuckle, and you couldn't help yourself but do the same.

"You can go first." Dark said.

"Ah, it wasn't anything specific, just that the rain is getting stronger." You expected him to simply nod and direct the topic somewhere else. Instead, he looked over to the window. The rain was now strong enough to be audible if you were both quiet, which is what was happening now. Dark looked as if he was observing the rain. As if simply the fact you told him about it gave it value.

"It indeed is."

After a couple of seconds, he took a breath. "I've never noticed how small this office is."

"You're right, but I like it. It makes it feel cozy. It also holds memories more easily. " In fact, your brain was recalling a rather specific memory involving him. But you doubted he would be thinking of that.

"Well, I'm glad. The area carries a certain air that only you have."

"Oh, and what might that be?" You smirked.

"Comfort. Something you want to return to and treasure every moment spent with."

You stared at him wide-eyed.

"Ah, I said too much, didn't I? Forgive me." He looked to the door.

You were touched by how highly he thought of you. Yet there was an unspoken implication in his statement.

Thunder rang out.

You flinched and crashed into Dark. His arms shot out, cradling you against him.

"Are you alright?"

You squeezed your eyes closed as you tried to focus on your breathing.

"I... I'm just scared of thunder. The sound..." You trailed off, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

His hold on you tightened as he gently moved your head to the crook of his neck. He rubbed his hand across your back in soothing motions with a soft "Shh" every couple of seconds. You let him hold you until you eventually stopped shaking like a leaf in the wind.

That's when you realized what a compromising position you were in and stared at him in shock.

"I apologize, I overstepped." He frowned, untangling his hands from you.

As soon as you felt the absence of him, you realized.

"I don't mind." You said, and his face visibly relaxed. "I actually don't mind a lot of things when it comes to you. Simply being with you is... nice."

He let out a quiet laugh. You wished you could put the sound in a bottle. "You're just saying that because we are stuck together."

You laughed and let out a rebuttal.

Minutes passed with other witty remarks, and before you could realize, the brief rainstorm had completely passed. You were confused that you hadn't heard another thunder since there had to have been at least one. But you had gotten too involved in Dark's quips to notice the sound. Dark cracking jokes... now that was something you would have never imagined.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dark asked, leaning his head on his arm.

"What?"

"You were staring at me without saying anything for a while now, so I figured you had something interesting going on in that brain of yours."

Heat rushed into your cheeks. You didn't realize you had been looking right at him.

You cleared your throat and saw him smiling out of the corner of your eye. "I was just wondering," you smiled back, "do you often run away?"

Dark quickly turned his head away in shame.

"First, it was when I was talking with Wilford. You came in and then suddenly excused yourself. Then, this morning, too... What's going on? Did I do something?"

He sighed. "No, no, you didn't do anything. It's me." He added quietly.

"How so?"

He responded after a couple of seconds. "I am afraid that if I tell you, a lot of things might change... between us." The look in his dark eyes was earnest, almost nostalgic.

Oh.

You pondered upon his statement for a few seconds. "Does change always have to be bad?"

As soon as you said the sentence, you were hit with a sense of deja vu. You felt like you've said it before, but how?

In tandem with your confusion, a slight shock spread on his features. As if in a trance, you put your hand on his cheek. Looking him up and down, you studied his features. There was nothing different from what you've come to know. Why were you expecting to see something else?

Your fingers moved on your own in a caress.

His eyes fluttered shut. You traced over his forehead, moving to his cheekbones when you ended up near his lips. Features oh so familiar like you knew them for years. Now that his eyes were closed, he seemed different. At peace. So close.

He opened his eyes, and there it was again. The two of you in your office. The proximity close enough to feel electrifying. None of you said anything as a decision hung in the air. But only up until his onyx-like eyes flicked from your own to your lips.

He smiled. "Would it be foolish of me to say I want to kiss you right now?"

And you answered by leaning in.

You let yourselves be entangled by the sheer amount of emotion as your lips brushed against each other. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer like he wanted to drown himself in you. You basked in the softness of your embrace, finally feeling as if everything has fallen into place.

He pulled away as you tried to catch your breath.

"So beautiful." He whispered, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Before you could respond, he went right back in. Not that you minded, of course.

No sooner than a minute had passed were you interrupted by your office door swinging open.

"Glad to see you've finally figured yourselves out! Now, if we could-" Wilford's voice was cut off as Dark slammed the door with a motion of his hand.

He brushed his hair away from his face and turned back to you.

"It did look like he needed something." You gazed at the door pensively.

"I am sure he did, but," he smoothed out your shirt, "I do believe you don't want anyone seeing you like this."

You tried to keep from laughing as you regarded his own disheveled appearance. "You're not too neat either, Sir 'Irons his shirts every morning'."

He rolled his eyes but smiled at you regardless. Getting up from the couch, he held out his hand, which you accepted, and headed to whatever wacky escapade Wilford was up to this time.

#x reader #reader insert #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #darkiplier #damien x da #wkm damien #damien the mayor #awhm yancy #wilford warfstache #markiplier egos #iplier egos #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #otty writes

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theknightmarket · 2 years ago

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Okay uh...this is the first time I'm requesting any egos but I just have to. You're the best writer for them I've ever had the pleasure of reading from. So I'm thinking maybe some Yancy and reader (preferably if they're from Heist) pulling some shenanigans around Happy Trails and slowly Yancy realizing his feelings? The shenanigans can involve the guards, Yancy's friends, or even the warden!

"Came for the accent, stayed for the crisis."

In which Yancy and a convicted thief run their own April Fools' Day.

TW: cursing

Pages: 20 – Words: 8,500

[Requests: OPEN]

The sounds coming from the corridor may have made any outsider think this was a theme park, which, while not all that different in context, was incorrect - if only for the fact that the rollercoasters, ring-toss games, and Ferris wheel were swapped out for sticky tables, rusty metal bars, and subpar plumbing. These may not have been mutually exclusive, but in Happy Trails Penitentiary, you would have better luck tracking down a perfectly innocent prisoner than a waffle. Or, for that matter, someone who wanted to be free.

Happy Trails was notorious for being one of the only prisons in all of America that nobody wanted to leave. It wasn’t any different, there was still a fair amount of police brutality and a difficultly established hierarchy, but there was one thing that no other jail had that this one did.

And that was not a something, but a someone: a young man who went by the name Yancy.

Despite him having spent the majority of his life in a cell, nobody knew if that was his real name, or just a random thing someone had given him once. By the accent, he definitely wasn’t an Englishman, but that, too, was up to interpretation. Some said he was from Ohio, some said from Boston, but all agreed that it didn’t matter anymore. He was in Happy Trails Penitentiary, now, so who cared where he was born?

Thus, this became his home. Yancy spent his days and nights in the confines of the walls, and he cherished the moments he spent with his friends, hell, family. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t leave, nor that his choices were limited in a lot of things, because he was with the people that he loved doing the things that he loved. It was a difficult task to imagine life outside, and it only sweetened the deal when you arrived.

You knew next to nothing about prison-life when you first got kicked up the ass here, which, granted, was a lot more than he could say for your friend. You were a confusing pair, to say the least, but he wasn’t sure if you would adjust well. At first, admittedly, you didn’t; you picked fights and messed with the guards, and when your friend disappeared? Hell had no fury like you scorned. Yancy didn’t even know if you were still at the prison with how often you were chucked in solitary.

Eventually, though, you settled down. You seemed to realize that this was where you were, and there was no changing that. You chilled out, got better, tried making conversation. Yancy was the first to welcome you properly, because he’d been where you were. A freshly-sixteen high school dropout was like early Christmas for the prisoners, until he found his group and made the place more homely. There was no denying the stray convicts who could make your life hard if you got on their bad side, but the vast majority were small time criminals who just didn’t want to leave.

After your botched heist, you fit right in.

And, yeah, you might be asking how this whole origin story resulted in yourself and Yancy getting chased down the hallway by the prison’s Warden, himself adorned in a pink afro, sunglasses, and the loudest shirt on the market. You weren’t exactly sure, either, but that didn’t stop you from squeezing Yancy’s hand and pulling him through a doorway. Your state-issued shoes clacked against tile, squeaking giving you away in a heartbeat. The sleeve of your jacket whipped past the Warden’s hand, and yet, against the prospect of being caught, a smile dashed across your face. It matched the one on Yancy’s mouth, soon to be interrupted by an accented laugh.

You nearly let out a ‘woohoo’ in excitement, but you considered that too far, and you needed to catch your breath enough to get back to the Warden’s office. That thing was a fort right now, both of your faces were beet red from the running, amongst other reasons, and you were becoming awkwardly aware of your grip on Yancy’s hand. Getting caught was not an option, lest you wanted to face a month of solitary for this stunt – even though it was probably warranted.

It all began at the very start of this morning when the sun barely peaked past your barred window and the guards had yet to wake everyone else up. You treasured this period, because it was the only time you were given free reign of what to do. Sure, during free time you had things to do, but you had to be doing things, whereas now was the perfect time to lay in bed, staring up at the top bunk and be at peace. A yawn broke the silence from that very place, but you considered the source to be the only thing that made a shorter rest worth it.

“G’morning,” Yancy called sleepily. Even as early as this, his drawl was still present.

Your response was more chirpy than usual, “Good morning, Yancy.”

His eyebrow’s rose unwittingly as he swung his legs over the side of your bed. “What’s got youse all hyped up?” He couldn’t think what made this day special. It wasn’t visitation day, it wasn’t Christmas, and it definitely wasn’t your birthday – so what was he missing?

“Because,” you practically sang, strapping on your shoes and tying your jacket around your waist, “today is the first of April.”

Before Yancy’s feet could touch the ground, you secured your hands on his shoulders and grinned. He might have been scared had he not trusted you with his life, so he just returned the smile in appreciation of your mood and rolled up his own sleeves.

For a second, you were confused. You didn’t expect much, maybe a laugh or a little sound of realization, but Yancy didn’t seem to know anything about what you were talking about.

“April Fool’s Day,” you stated.

His expression only shifted into concern.

You, albeit overdramatically, gasped and moved your hands from his shoulders to cradle his jawline. “Yancy, have you never heard of April Fool’s?”

Not giving him time to respond, you assumed he hadn’t and knocked your forehead against his. With your eyes closed, you failed to notice the flush that exploded across his cheeks, the color blooming like a flower where your breath touched his skin.

“What are we going to do with you,” you muttered, and by this time, Yancy’s entire face was beet red. He could say the same to you because this was not entirely out of character for you. You always had been touchy with him after becoming friends, and five months was enough time for this to be habit.

He was stuck in this purgatory until you finally stepped back, not removing your hands however, and exclaimed, “You’re coming with me!”

Bluntly, he replied, “What?”

“You’re coming with me.” Although you didn’t expand on that idea, you still took Yancy by the elbow and tugged him towards your corner. A while ago, you had designated the two available corners of the room for personal belongings, and yours had stayed concealed by a blanket for the past week. It had worried him slightly, but the guards were unperturbed, so he thought it fine to not ask any questions. Coming towards it now, though, he wished he had.

“Prepare to be amazed,” you whispered, and you grabbed a corner of the fabric.

In one, fluid movement, you ripped it away and threw it back onto your bed, revealing below what could only be described as an armada of materials. Yancy was stunned, and he stood completely still with his arms hanging limp for the next few seconds while he took in the pile.

Multiple folded bedsheets made the foundation - some spotted, some plain, some covered in either blood or grenadine from the kitchen – followed by cans of neon paint and bags of fake moustaches on top. This, accompanied by a worrying number of handy tools, gave him pause and reason to ask, “Was’ all this for?”

Your grin grew manic in the short amount of time for you to remove a paint can without everything clattering to the ground. “This,” you lugged it to the desk, “is what we’ll need to enact the best pranks anyone could think of in a prison.” By the blank look on his face, Yancy still hadn’t a clue what you were talking about, so you started to explain.

“April Fool’s Day is celebrated by, uh, not a lot of people,” you admitted, “on the first of April every year. Nobody really knows where it came from, but that doesn’t stop it from being one of the most fun holidays in the year or me from going all out.” You removed a paintbrush from the stack of tools sitting next to the mismatched pile, and, after peeling the can open, dipped it in.

Yancy edged into view, slotting between the bunk bed and the desk, to ask, “Don’t you think we’re gonna get in trouble for dis?”

You laughed, looked at him, and he quickly found comfort in your reassuring smile. It was like a tender fire sparking in the dark, a campfire that he could curl up next to and fall asleep until the next day. This tended to happen a lot, and it’d picked up recently, like the wind warning of the future. He didn’t want it to be a bad sign, so he stuck with what he knew; it made him happy to see you smile, he liked being happy, so he liked you, and there was nothing more to it.

“We might.”

His smile wavered.

“But you don’t have to worry about that.” You bounced towards him and tapped his jaw. “I’m an expert at this.”

He had to trust you, it wasn’t as though he had a choice in the matter, anyway. A long time ago, he had decided that whatever you were doing, it would be fine in the end. Letting his shoulders and smile relax into a more natural one, he teased, “Like you were an expert at heists?”

“Hey—” you flicked neon paint onto his shirt, staining it a slight green, “—I am an expert at heists, I got that part down to a T, I just don’t know how to pilot a helicopter.”

“I think that’s part of the heist.”

“Nah,” you shrugged and did your best to reseal the paint can, mostly hitting it with your fist until it was in the rough shape it had been at the beginning but with a brush sticking through a hole.

Yancy let one last, boisterous laugh through his lips, before you started to delve into the plan.

You would admit that your plan seemed farfetched when you first brought it up to your cellmate and ironing out the details and getting the logistics down was a chore, but Yancy was quick to offer up his help. You appreciated it, trying to not let it slip that he lowered the risk of you getting caught a significant amount, and you reconstructed the plot to include the favors of his connections. Your improv skills had degraded since getting incarcerated, but that heist was a thing of beauty if you considered the need for thinking on your feet – which, you did. Half of that thing didn’t even have a plan, it was just ‘get in, get out, go home’. You faltered at the ‘go home’ part, of course, but you digressed. Your improvisation skills were needed now, and you had employed them well by the time of the breakfast bell.

Keeping maniacal giggles to a minimum, you were the one to pull Yancy towards his main table, where his group of friends met you. None of them had the full picture, except for yourself and the ringleader, so they were all giddy with anticipation. They asked questions about who the victim was, why you’d chosen them, and you tried your best to answer them without giving too much away. Yancy, meanwhile, was somewhere else.

Conducting the plan had been like a script – it was easy, efficient, and only needed muscle-memory from him to work fine – and that meant his mind was left to its own devices as his body helped you out. Every time you turned to him or asked him over your shoulder to pass him a screwdriver, he couldn’t take his eyes of you. He flailed his hand for the tool and handed it to you soon after grasping it, just so that he could watch you work. It was a reward for a duty he was unaware he had performed, but he must have done it well, because what a reward you were. Your company alone made his heart flutter, and he considered a doctor’s visit when your hands brushed. He ignored that they were breaking a lot of the prison’s rules, and, instead, the only thought at the front of his mind was that this, spending time with you… it was nice.

“You ready, Yancy?”

He blinked. Returning to the present, he waved away those feelings and moved his attention to his friends, including you, who were looking at him in excitement.

Not sure what he was agreeing to but placing all trust in you, he nodded.

Immediately, you pounced off the table, a tiger on the hunt, and everyone else watched on. Your shoes skidded against the tile as you carved a path to a particular guard. He stood alone, and, just as you had arranged, next to the breaker. Poor choice of the prison to put the box in the cafeteria of all places, but you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you nodded to the man and twisted on your heel to watch the hall.

Chatter dropped, rose, and then dropped again, as if in sync with the flickering of the lights, before it flipped on its head – the fluorescent bulbs completely cut out, but a panic swirled. Guards, prisoners, even Warden Murder-Slaughter himself came out of his office and exclaimed some southern curse. It didn’t demand all of the attention, though, because that belonged rightfully to the spider-webbed convict leaning against one of the walls, helpfully, in the center of the room.

Jimmy the Pickle was your victim, and to answer Tiny’s question, he deserved your first prank of the day for punching one of your only friends through a goddamn wall. You would have done worse, but then you’d never have met Yancy and the gang, so you had some things to thank him for. Not enough to get him completely off the hook, of course, so a little neon paint was light punishment.

A myriad of doodles and names adorned his body – more befitting of a graffitied high school yearbook – but the swirly mustache, horns and ‘nerd!’ worked here, too.

From his seat atop the plastic table, Yancy could only watch the Jimmy’s reaction, mainly of confusion and then immediate rage as he stomped off to find whoever did this to him. Luckily, it was in the opposite direction to you, who was rushing over in quick step to slide next to him. Even coated in shadows, you were unabashedly red, and, when you turned to meet Yancy’s gaze, grinning ear to ear. If you weren’t in public, you’d be laughing like a maniac. The hushed chortles were evidence of this.

“That was amazing,” you sighed, once the lights crackled to life and the restless gossip of the prisoners returned to normal.

“We doing another one?”

Yancy’s eagerness caught you off guard, as did his sudden proximity to you. You didn’t know why he was so ready to pull another prank, but you decided that, if he was having fun, who were you to put a stop to that? All he was asking was to pick up the pace, and to deny the sparkle in his shimmering eyes was to deserve the death sentence.

“Sure,” you conceded, “gimme a second to grab the blankets.” With that, you sprinted off again, almost stumbling over your own feet to get back to your cell.

His eyes trailed after you, fighting back the instinct to catch you with how many times you nearly tripped. You were worryingly similar a newborn deer – no control over your feet and even less knowledge of your surroundings. It was a strange and unfamiliar impulse that pushed him to lean forward on his seat, but a well-known pressure on his shoulder kept him down.

Sparkles McGee peeked into view on his left. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, boss,” he joked, though there was the underlying tone of not joking.

“Whady’a mean?”

“I mean, your new ‘pal’.”

Having been practically raised inside the confines of a prison, Yancy wasn’t all that good at social cues. Sarcasm was difficult for him, bluntly told jokes he had a hard time figuring out, but the jumping of Sparkles’ eyebrows and the wink upon saying ‘pal’ didn’t leave much up to interpretation. That blush from earlier returned tenfold when he realized what his friend was insinuating.

“I-It ain’t like that,” he responded quickly, but he didn’t entirely believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” Bam-Bam joined in with a poorly disguised giggle, “and you don’t look at them like a love-sick puppy.”

“I don’t!” It came out much more defensive that he had meant, but it was still the truth, wasn’t it?

Tiny’s hand came to rest on his upper arm before she whispered, “Yancy, it’s okay.”

“We’re just friends, guys,” Yancy still persisted, and he took off from the surface before they could think to stop him. Standing tall in front of his group, shoulders levelled and voice as sturdy as he could get it, he wished them a good breakfast and all but fled the cafeteria, hands tucked in his pockets and a scowl on his face.

For the better half of an hour, he took to wandering around Happy Trails. He trusted his feet to take him wherever they felt he should go, while his mind relayed the conversation. He wouldn’t lie to himself, right? What point was there to convincing himself that he didn’t have feelings for someone – there wasn’t one, so, clearly, he didn’t have any to hide in the first place. To him, that made the most sense. Of course, his stomach flipped, and his heart pounded whenever you were around, he would risk ten years of solitary to stand close to you, and he was pretty sure he saw heaven in your eyes, but that didn’t mean anything special, right? Just plain old friends.

Why did it hurt to say that?

“Hey, Yancy!”

Ordinarily, he would be annoyed at someone interrupting his brooding, but tilting on his heel revealed it was you who called his name.

Yancy let a grin spread across his mouth while you bounded up to him. If anything, you’d be the puppy in the relationship – but you weren’t, because it wasn’t like that.

Skidding to a stop, you looked out of breath. A sudden fear of you running a fever toppled him, and he brought a hand to your forehead with little forethought. You weren’t too hot, but you should have gone to the medical bay, all the same.

“I’ve been looking for you,” you huffed, one half out of fatigue and the other out of annoyance.

“Ah, sorry,” he muttered. He didn’t expand on it, and you didn’t press, so you just moved on to shoving a pile of blankets into his arms. They were surprisingly soft for being in a prison, but, then again, he hadn’t a clue where you had gotten them from.

“I took them from the Warden’s office.”

Oh. Well, that was that. It explained where you got them, but it also made fear flicker about in his mind. The Warden would surely notice they were gone, what if you were caught, taken to solitary confinement, chucked out of the prison altogether? Just the thought shocked him to his core, and he stayed completely paralyzed while his thoughts ran wild.

As if you could sense his inner turmoil, you pressed your hands against his jawline – a habit you’d long since picked up to calm him down.

“Yancy, we’ll be fine,” you promised, “it’s just a bit of fun, we’re not gonna do any serious damage to the place. It’ll all be back to normal tomorrow, so the Warden won’t have anything to be mad at us for.”

Goddamn your reassuring smile, there it was again! Saving him like a knight in shining armor in his time of need.

After taking a few deep breaths, he nodded back to you, making eye contact and avoiding biting his lip.

Another laugh from you. “There you go, Yancy!” Another knocking of your foreheads. Another blush.

There was a moment in the day when everyone was on edge. For the past few hours, a group of people were protected at all times. Now, however, nobody was safe. They’d glance up at the ceiling, waiting for the tiles to give way and unleash hell – they’d train their eyes on every exit and entrance as if daring a biblical flood to rush through – they’d mutter to themselves about who they thought the next victim would be, and send pitiful looks to the poor soul.

The blindless a thief experienced was burned into his memory, his assumed death playing heavy before he had been able to throw the bedsheets off of himself. One of the guards still stared scrutinizingly at her fellows for any sign of them actually being a prisoner in disguise, and the general consensus of treating this like an infiltrated war base had been reached after the guard dogs were released on the officers’ private quarters. Any trust between each other had crumbled to the ground due to the actions of two wayward convicts. Yancy and yourself became names to fear amongst most of the occupying forces, to the point that Yancy’s gang had been separated and sent to their cells to stop them from conspiring with you. It was havoc, and there was just one more idea bouncing around that would be the end-all-be-all of the night.

“Yancy, I have a plan—” you swung yourself up to his bunk, “—and it’s gonna be amazing.”

While you made yourself comfortable, your cellmate leaned against the wall with his arms behind his head, trying his best to appear relaxed. The events of the day took a toll on his heart rate, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. His first attempt in April Fools’ Day had been a raging success, not only in the pranking department, but in the, well, you department. Nearly every second had been spent with you, laughing about people’s reactions, and plotting your next mission, you leaning in just close enough that he could feel your breath on his ear as you whispered the best ideas. What made it all better was the fact that, even though you both knew you could do this alone, you had chosen to do it with him. A grin stretched across his face as he thought back on how many times that you’d asked him to do the little things, like passing him items or giving him a leg up. All those times that you could have just improvised, but you didn’t; you chose him.

However, as much as he was still trying to appear relaxed, it was becoming considerably harder to do so when you found that the comfiest place to be was slotted between his legs and looking up at him from his lap. You didn’t seem to mind the proximity, going so far as to push yourself further up him, but Yancy was certainly aware of your arms resting beside his thighs and the pressure of your head on his stomach. Now, it was a harder venture not to flush.

“So,” you began, and he was suddenly reminded of why you were in this position in the first place, “this is me spit balling, feel free to chime in with stuff, but I think we should go after the Warden.”

A grimace overtook his face. He usually loved your ideas, but the Warden? Number one, it was unimaginably dangerous, and, number two, he had his own reservations over risking his relationship with the man. It was no secret that he was the closest thing Yancy had to a father figure, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he relied on the Warden as a backbone. Take away him, and all of his confidence would go down the drain in a second. On the other hand, though, this was you. Yancy could trust you, he was certain of that, and what reason did you have to put him in the line of fire?

The internal conflict must have been visible on his face because you were quick to bring your hands to his jawline and smoothen out the stubble. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you pointed out in the softest tone you could muster, “I just think it would be nice to go out with a bang. It’s your choice.”

It was at that second that - with you staring up at him, calloused hands pressing down on his jaw, the assuring twitch of your mouth, and the gleam of rigid determination in your irises – Yancy came to a revelation. It wasn’t sudden or surprising, it was more like when you zone out in a car and then notice that an hour has passed and you’re already there. Like expected clarity.

Yancy would do anything, as long as it meant being with you.

Now, he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant in relation to anything else, but this was an undeniable truth as stark as a glistening geode surrounded by rock. If that was all it was, then it was good enough for him, but if that meant something more, he wouldn’t fight it. How could he when it was someone like you?

This conclusion settled in his mind, he leaned forward barely an inch and pecked your forehead. “Youse is gonna be the death of me.”

Despite the dusting along your cheeks, you laughed. The metal of the bunk bed almost seemed to get warmer with your unadulterated joy, and Yancy found himself unable to resist giggling along with you. His shoulders bounced, you smiled wider, and you only began to calm yourself down when you realized you hadn’t even told him the plan yet.

“First of all, we’ll probably have to haggle for the stuff, but I think putting the Warden into 80s clothing would be a great time for everyone.” It was anyone’s guess as to where you came up with this stuff, but he nodded along anyway. “We could go for a wig, those stupidly curly ones that you can stick a comb in—oh, and if we can, we should try and get a pair of roller-skates on his feet, ‘cause it’d be really funny, and—”

Your mouth was moving, and sound was coming out of it, and you were making your plan up on the spot, but Yancy paid it little mind. He was focused on the way that you shifted as you talked; your hands moved centimeters at a time, like you were subconsciously acting it out as you went, your fingertips pattering along his skin as you did so. While you spoke at a normal pace, the cogs in your head visibly spun a mile a minute behind your eyes. The determined gleam had shifted into passion, a look he’d only seen once before, and yet it was a very recent occasion.

You’d been laying side-by-side in the air duct, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to walk underneath your blanket trap, when you’d filled him in on the traditions of other holidays not widely celebrated. Guy Fawkes Day, a lot of independence days, and pancake day, which was the only self-explanatory one out of the bunch you told him. All of these, you had inane knowledge on, but the look in your eye when you ranted about them had him drifting off, just like now, only to inspect the way it danced along the black and white ridges, disappeared under your eyelashes and…

He probably should have been paying attention.

He only snapped back to reality when you were interrupted by a yawn. Your hand disappeared from his cheek, a sensation he felt his eyebrows fold in at, and covered your mouth. An attempt to continue was, again, cut off, and it only succeeded at making you more annoyed.

“Youse, uh, youse sleepy?”

You shook your head, opened your mouth, and promptly yawned again. Yancy raised an eyebrow. You huffed.

“Nope,” you replied, and he waited for another sign of your tiredness.

It came, and you were forced to accept that you may have been a bit fatigued by the day’s events.

“We can go to sleep, if you want?” he offered.

“But you don’t do pranks on the day after April Fool’s. It’s tasteless.”

“Just a nap, then?”

“Yancy,” your tone was pleading but the intent wasn’t there. It dismantled seconds after he pulled those puppy-dog eyes, a tactic you were certainly familiar with after the many times you fell to it.

And now would be no exception.

Huffing, you slouched in your makeshift seat. Yancy’s striped sweatpants were surprisingly comfy for a prison uniform – or maybe that was just him. Either way, you were content to slip into a dream then and there, completely forgetting that you were still on Yancy’s bunk and him holding you up. Not that he minded; he, too, was happy to relax into the cushion, trying to avoid jolting you too much in your slept. Technically, it wasn’t lights out just yet, but your pranking had thrown everything into disarray. It would take a week to get it all back to normal, and the guards would probably stick you in solitary next year just to save themselves the pain.

He laughed to himself, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You were pleasantly warm against the cool air of the cell. What a panic you’d made – his little imp.

He drifted off without pausing to think.

To say that you were startled awake would be an understatement; your eyes blew wide, you fumbled in surprise, and your face almost made great friends with the concrete floor. If it hadn’t been for Yancy gripping your waist before you could fully fall out, the scheme from earlier would have all been for naught. Heart racing and breath still rapid, your gaze flitted from wall to wall, checking your supplies and wondering what the hell woke you up in the first place.

Your answer came not a minute later, when an officer came strutting down the hallway with a baton that he was helpfully clacking against the bars with. The hallway was dim, and the rest of the prison was silent in your sector – it must’ve been lights out, if the guard yelling, “Lights out!” wasn’t anything to go by.

Internally, you groaned. Had you missed your chance? God, and it would’ve been so fun, too. All people had were the memories of you two vaguely terrorizing the prison, not the big blow-out you had wanted. Your hair dusted against the wall as you flopped backwards.

“It’s too late,” you muttered, disdain evident and disappointment lacing it all.

In another scenario, Yancy would have grimaced and tried to raise your spirits. He would have told you about the songs he’d practiced, or the up-and-coming movie night the prison was planning. However, this was not another scenario.

Instead of letting you wallow, Yancy dragged you with an arm around your shoulder down the ladder and onto stable ground. You moved like a fluid, as you always did when you were annoyed, and simply watched as he got to his knees and checked underneath your own bed.

“I don’t think dust bunnies will help us,” you tried to joke, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, Yancy was fixated on bringing forward the small lockbox he had stored down there since before you had arrived. He’d never had to use it before, leading it to be shoved right at the back. Even now he was having trouble finding it with the darkness of a sheltered hiding place.

While Yancy ran his fingertips at the edge of the wall, you inspected your stash of equipment. This plan was a spur of the moment kind of thing, so none of what you had would be helpful, but the nap would have given someone time to steal what you rightfully bartered for. A quick glance over suggested nothing was off, though you didn’t remember getting pink paint, and you checked off your mental inventory as you went.

“Ah,” Yancy mumbled, pushing himself out of the space and towing a medium sized box with him. Time must have meddled with his memory, because it felt slightly bigger in his hands than it had before. Then again, people had the poor habit of growing. Brushing the thought aside, he sat back on his haunches and clicked it open.

“Uh…”

Yancy wasn’t always this unsure, as if bravado was in his blood, but this definitely knocked him off his high horse. What should have been an unassuming lockbox with nothing but a few lighters, combs, and a jagged, old key, was, instead, full to bursting with bright clothes and accessories. If that wasn’t weird enough, it was exactly as you had described during your plotting phase; a curly wig, practically doused in pink, a flamboyant, open-chested t-shirt, and roller-skates. Sweat dripped down his back when he considered the implications, but you merely dashed forward and removed the afro.

“This is great!” you exclaimed, swiveling to Yancy and wrapping your arms around him.

Yes, you were aware this meant someone had broken into your cell while you were sleeping, and, yes, you recognised someone overheard your entire plan, but did you care? Hell no! You had all the materials you needed to pull off your best prank yet, and if you found the person who provided them, you’d probably shake their hand and spare them from future endeavors. The best clue you had was the small, bright pink mustache painted on the inside wood.

A manic grin blazed across the bottom of your face, and you squeezed slightly tighter in excitement. He patted your back, less enthusiastic but happy that you were. He was more concerned with an intruder hearing last night’s – or this night’s – moment. Lips pursing and hands coming to rest on your waist as you pulled back, he wondered why he held it so close to the chest.

“Come on,” you whispered. Your hand collected his, and, with the key in your other hand, you escaped your cell to wreak even more havoc.

A ticking of a clock pricked up the hair on his arms, the slow patter of rain outside the window tapping the inside of his ear, and every other little sound sending off warning bells in his mind. Warden Murder-Slaughter stared at the front door, as if his glare alone would keep him safe. It was the only defense he had – except for the wooden planks bolted to the windows and the dozens of locks on the single entrance. He couldn’t be blamed for his paranoia, if it could even have been considered that, as he’d seen with his own two eyes the consequences of not being vigilant, and he did not like what he saw.

So, his eyes drying from not blinking, the Warden accepted having to be awake for the night, just to see himself make it to the next day. It would be the April 2nd, then, and he would be free to wander the halls of the prison like he owned the place, which he did, and it was shameful that he was forced into hiding in his own goddamn office.

The burning embarrassment wavering in his chest didn’t stop him from flinched when knocks arose on the door. His hand twitched, he fought back blinking, and with the most confidence he could muster, the Warden called out, “Who’s there?”

A pair of shadows cast from underneath the door shifted. “Uh, just me, sir.”

The Warden wasn’t stupid; he knew that when people said ‘just me’ that it probably wasn’t just them. It did sound like one of his lackeys, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with wayward prisoners on the loose.

“And you would be?”

They made a sound of disappointment, like most of his staff did when he didn’t recall their name, though they answered all the same. “Jacob Dalt?”

“Middle name.”

Unseen, Jacob shook his head. The Warden had never been so paranoid, and yet, there he was, cornered into his office with the fear of God in his heart. "Markus."

“First pet’s name.”

“David.”

“Social security number.”

“Sir!” The handle rattled and the door shook, but Jacob stayed behind the door. “Look, sir, if you don’t want to come out, that’s fine – but it’s getting late, and we’re all worried about you. You’ve been in there for the entire day, you haven’t even shouted at the guys upstairs for the lights, yet, and we know how much you love doing that. Just,” there was a vague fist hitting the door, “are you okay?”

The Warden was pretty sure he could trust the boy, nobody could mimic the overzealous care of that guard, so he rose from his chair with a huff and dismantled all the checks and balanced he had installed to keep himself safe. It was a full minute before he swung the door open and waved him in.

“Yes, I am fine,” he replied as he re-did all of the locks, “I’m just on edge.”

“I can see that.”

Jacob flipped around with a concerned smile, while the Warden focused all of his energy on getting the door secured once more. Both of their backs were turned to the rest of the room, which meant more than a few things; the swiveling chair was unoccupied, the window was clear to the outside, and the vent above the desk was out of their view. It was flawless timing, and you didn’t even need to bribe a guard.

Encouraged by your descriptive hand gestures, Yancy dropped as subtle as he could to the worktop, hoping that his shoes wouldn’t make a sound and sprung to hide behind the fake plant in the corner. You pushed yourself out seconds after him, and, lucky for you, the clicks of metal against metal distracted the two others enough for you to hop to the ground and crouch in the leg hole. The sight of your partner was worryingly familiar to you, causing a twitch in your attention, but the spark of adrenaline burst through you in the next moment.

After gently shoving the chair further away from you, you were able to listen in to the conversation. Nothing stood out to you much – the guard was talking about the Warden’s health and that of the prisoners – until all of the security measures had been returned and the boy offered a single piece of advice. Take a nap. It was perfect, almost too perfect, really, but as said before, you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and it appeared neither would the Warden.

The man, sighed, waved the officer away, and was forced to fiddle with the locks for a fourth time when he realized he had no way out. It only worked in your favor, because he was slowly getting more pissed off at the situation you’d worked to create. Proud was swelling in you, and you tried to remind yourself where you were so you wouldn’t get swept up in it all. You were in the middle of a mission, the chance of getting caught and Yancy’s reputation on the line.

All the pieces lining up bolstered your confidence so much so that, when the Warden came to sit back in his chair, you didn’t move. Instead, you stayed flat against the wooden panel and steadied your breath as he flopped into the comfortable hold of old leather. You were tempted to grab ahold of his feet and yank, but the sane side of you told you it was beyond stupid.

Yancy, meanwhile, was panicking. You weren’t even supposed to be out of your cell, much less the Warden’s office. If he were to find you, there would be hell to pay, and sweat dripped down his neck as he thought what would become of you. Solitary was a granted, but you might get kicked out onto the streets of normal society! He couldn’t imagine anything worse – although, he also couldn’t figure out why. He liked you, he knew that, but why did the mere possibility of being separated shake him so much? He had half a mind to rush out and distract him so you could escape, and it irked him that he didn’t know why it seemed natural, like there was no other choice for him.

“Yancy,” a voice hissed at him. Heart thudding in the chest, he glared through the leaves only to see you waving at him from the side of the desk. The Warden had fallen asleep quickly, and, based on him sleeping through frequent rehearsals late at night, would continue to be until you woke him.

Doing your best not to giggle too loudly, you withdrew the pink afro and sunglasses from your shirt, a moment for which Yancy made sure not to look. There it was again, something had changed and, for some reason, even though he’d seen you get changed plenty of times right in front of him, it was awkward to spot a single inch of your collarbone. Was he sick? Had he caught something from last night’s food? His mulling over left him dazed and delirious when you snapped your fingers to get his attention.

“You okay there, Yancy?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, squatting to get on your level, “jus’ think I’m, uh, comin’ down with somin’.”

“As soon as we get back to our cell, you are sleeping for the next day and a half.”

With tentative hands, he removed the Warden’s shoes and replaced them with the pair of roller-skates. It probably should have concerned him how well they fit, but he had learned not to ask questions by now.

“And youse’d take care of me?”

“Of course.”

Once everything had been properly settled onto the still-sleeping man, the two of you stood from the ground and stashed whatever he had been wearing before into the document cabinet. Your masterpiece was complete, and, now, it was just a matter of waiting until he woke up and left the room for the entire prison to see. You could get out the way you came in, so he wouldn’t be worried by any broken locks, and the sunglasses were the same weight and shape of his reading ones. This was perfect, this was the grand finale you had wanted, and you couldn’t have done it without Yancy’s help.

You turned to him with a grin sweeping across your face. “Thank you,” you whispered, and leaned forward to lay a kiss across his cheek.

Yancy’s heart thundered, his breath caught, and he almost felt his hands shake.

But not from the kiss.

It was from the Warden’s eyes snapping open with a look furious enough to frighten a crazed bull. It was maddened, inconsolable, and pointed straight at the both of you.

Keeping the locks unbroken was thrown out in favor of bursting through the door shoulder first and flinging yourself down the hallway. It hurt like hell, sure, but the adrenaline lighting your veins told you to ignore it and just run, so you grabbed onto Yancy’s hand and did just that.

The situation was manic, a feeding frenzy in an ocean of sharks. You tripped past the kitchen and the storage room, curbed through the washroom, and soon enough, found yourselves in your wing of the prison. It was nice to see Yancy’s friends as you ran by, Sparkless calling out your names like a commentator at a racetrack, and Tiny helpfully pointing to the man gaining on you. Bam-Bam made certain gestures towards you that Yancy caught, which both made him smile and explode in a furious red.

The cafeteria was next on your hit-list, as you skidded between benches and leapt over tables. The Warden’s enraged shouts propelled you forward, though you didn’t miss yelling back remarks that only made him more annoyed. Your partner was just along for the ride, at this point, but he tugged you out of the way of a food cart as you ran. After sending him an appreciative glance, you made it out of the hall.

A few guards peeked out of the staff room when you passed, the squeaking of your shoes making it difficult to be stealthy about this, but they preferred to exchange looks than interrupt… whatever it was that you were doing. They gathered it was something to do with the pranks, but the gleams in your eyes told a different story.

With a final burst of energy, you swung Yancy into the Warden’s office and shoved the door closed behind you. The locks were useless, now, so you settled for vaulting over the desk and maneuvering it into a barricade. Yancy jumped to help, and you were quickly safe in the make-shift bunker.

Flopping into one of the chairs, you sighed. That was… more eventful than you had expected, but it was good. Great, in fact! Reliving the glory days granted you the adventure you had been missing.

From his spot leaning against the table, Yancy chuckled lightly, which turned into small laughs and then full-blown chortles. Never in his life had he imagined he’d be getting into pranking his surrogate-father, with you, no less.

“That was…” he started, only to continue with giggles.

You nodded before letting your head fall backwards. You might just join Yancy for the day and a half nap.

After a few seconds, he regained his breath and spoke again, “I, uh, really enjoyed doin’ dat with you.”

“I enjoyed it too, Yancy.”

Your head propped up, wavering side to side, that feeling returned full throttle. It was the feeling when you’d been chased, sure, but there was something different about it. The warm wasn’t from his blood running through him, but a fuzzy, comfortable feeling – it was an emotion he wasn’t familiar with, and not being able to put a name to it was, well, annoying. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but describing it would be inefficient and, he feared, inaccurate. It was like a bunch of small emotions bundled into one, messy glob. Caring, joy, a little bit of worry. It made his heart sing and his face flush and his throat swell with all of the words he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Coughing, he spoke, “And thank youse for doing it with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think dis’ is the best April Fools’ Day I’ve ever done, and youse didn’t have to take me along with it so, thank you.”

With a near-silent laugh, you made your way to sit next to him on the desk. The wood was kind of hard, but it made wrapping an arm around him that much easier. After the run, he was warm and stable.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you admitted, making Yancy look at you with confusion, “When I first came here, I was dead set on getting out. I thought that if I didn’t, then I’d be wasting away my life and betraying everything I’d worked for – and then I met you. You made it home, y’know. Now, eh, I’d much rather be here than in the outside world.”

Yancy blinked, though, really, he wanted to jump and dance with you around the room. You wanted to stay for him. Not for the songs, or the free healthcare, for him. It might’ve been April Fool’s, but he was pretty sure it doubled as Christmas for him.

“Really?” he mumbled, and his eyes met yours. They were practically pools of sincerity, so vivid that there was a sheen of vulnerability over your irises.

“Come on,” you pulled him close, “I came for the accent, stayed for the crisis.”

It was a happy moment, so, so happy, that Yancy was furious he couldn’t express it with words. His mouth dried up and his mind flurried about like birds’ wings. You weren’t talking anymore, and it looked like you were about to pull away for a second.

So, Yancy did the only thing he could think to do.

The bone of your jaw was firm, the strands of your hair were soft, and the skin of your lips was delicate. Kissing you was something he had never imagined, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder why he ever held back. Carding one hand across the nape of your neck and the other secured around your waist, he poured all of his attention into the feeling of you against him. You pushed forward, and he did, too. It might’ve been the pounding of his heart or the banging of the Warden against the door, but he didn’t care! This perfect moment surrounded by chaos nestled into his memory, added to by the feeling of you smiling against his own mouth. Yancy held back a chuckle himself, before once more becoming engrossed in dancing with your lips.

It was in this moment that Yancy put a name to the emotion that had been stirring in him since the morning. Love – and the admission only had him leaning further in.

You only broke apart because of the fatal flaw of human design – needing to breath, but even then, you went back in for another kiss milliseconds after catching air. Yancy was all but overjoyed to, not feeling bad about ignoring the Warden for the first time in his life. He had something better to attend to.

However, that stance was changed slightly when the boards that used to be covering the windows crashed to the ground in splinters, followed by a body. Just one look at the wig and jacket, and Yancy was jumping to his feet and onto the chair you had abandoned. Thankfully, you had neglected to refit the vent, meaning it was easy for him to grab your hand and lift you towards the ceiling. When you were securely inside, he brought himself up, and you latched onto his arm to pull him towards you, barely missing the Warden’s hand by an inch.

“So, again next year, then?” Yancy joked, to which you responded with a laugh and another short kiss on his lips, leaving the Warden’s southern curses to echo behind you.

[Again, sorry for the lateness – I still hope you enjoyed this and our cute lil’ boy being all confused about emotions. I’m still not over him losing to Dark in the poll. I mean, yeah, I get it, but c’mon, how could they do this to the Boston boy??]

#yancy #iswm yancy #yancy the prisoner #yancy x reader #markiplier #a heist with markiplier #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos #x reader #April fools #pranks #longreads #request #reader insert #the knight market #theknightmarket

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weirdlyhornyforegos · 2 years ago

Text

Welcome Home

MINORS DNI!!! This from an au I've been skrunkling on for the like the last week. All you need to know for this specific fic is that you are high up in some company and rich, Yancy is your sugar baby, and sometimes you bring in Murdock for some extra fun. Yancy x Murdock x amab reader

Wordcount: 1.7k+

Tags/warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom reader, use of sir, begging, crying, degradation, praise, oral, anal, slight dumbification

Before you left for your week long work trip, you had said to Murdock and Yancy that they were free to have any fun they'd like, within the usual rules of course.

So coming home to a quiet house, or at least quiet in the way that Yancy doesn't greet you at the door like he often does.

Because you can hear something coming from upstairs.

Quick to get your shoes and jacket off, you follow the noise to your bedroom, where upon opening the door you are met with the rather lovely sight of Yancy on his hands and knees on your bed, Murdock pounding into him from behind.

You realize tears are streaming down Yancy's face, hiccups and whines mixing with moans. As soon as he spots you, one arm tries to reach out, but has to quickly be slammed back down so he doesn't lose his balance and faceplant into the mattress.

"Sir, sir, siiirrrrr, pleaseeeeee!"

"Welcome home, we were just having some fun." Murdock speaks as you spot the cockring around Yancy's cock.

"Baby boy, how long and how much?" Yancy can't seem to answer. You look to his hands for any sort of signal for a pause or a stop, but his hands are curled into the sheets hard enough that his knuckles are turning white, and his moans blends in with his cries.

You chuckle, taking a seat on the small couch you had brought into your room just for a scenario like this. Sitting down, you lean back, content to watch Murdock finish up

"Don't let me interrupt. Put on a good show for me, won't you, baby boy?"

Murdock grins, pinching a nipple, making Yancy shiver and whimper. He rocks back into Murdock, tears streaming down his face as he does so.

He tries to put his head and upper body down so he can muffle his noises, but Murdock is having none of it, pulling him up by his hair so Yancy’s back is pressed against his chest.

“Oh no, none of that baby boy. No hiding when you’re supposed to provide entertainment.” Yancy whimpering as Murdock fucks into him, arm across his chest and hand on his hip keeping him in place.

Looking at you when he manages to keep his eyes open, pleading for you to do something.

But you don’t, just lazily touching yourself over your pants, and watching your baby boy getting fucked within an inch of his life, just as he deserves.

This goes on for a while.

You just watch as Murdock keeps your baby boy an absolute mess.

He's leaking, blubbering, holding onto Murdock's arm around his chest for dear life as Murdock kisses over his shoulder and neck. He's murmuring absolute filth into Yancy's skin, sometimes making eye contact with you as he does so.

At one point he lets his teeth drag over skin, making Yancy shudder oh so sweetly. You send him a warning glare, Murdock grinning back at you.

"How much trouble would I be in if I marked up this pretty little patch of skin?" A finger strokes over a spot just beneath Yancy's jaw.

"A lot."

"I thought you said I could have any fun I'd like." Murdock kisses the spot, which earns a whimper from Yancy, not only because of the kiss, but also because Murdock has stopped fucking him, just staying inside of Yancy, keeping his cock warm.

"I said that both of you could, but that is one of the few rules I have for you both, and it shouldn't be broken."

"He would look rather stunning with some marks all over his pretty neck, no?"

"He would, but he's not getting them from you. Unless you'd like to be punished?"

"Not tonight, I would prefer to walk out of here." He sends a glare at you, but you can see the heat hidden underneath.

Neither of you say anything for a few moments, then Murdock sighs, pulling out of Yancy, which causes him to whimper. Murdock shushes him, leading him by the hair over to you. He pushes Yancy down to straddle your lap, then sinks back inside of him.

"If I can't make marks, at least our sweet little toy can get that little visual upgrade from you." A beat, a grin. "Sir." Yancy's breath hitches as Murdock starts fucking him again, albeit slower this time.

You start to kiss over his throat and shoulders, gently tilting his head back at first, touch fleeting and light.

But that doesn't last long, the temptation of Yancy and the noises you know he can make are too strong, and as soon as you bite down, both of them groan in unison.

"Do that again, he got so fucking tight and perfect around my cock." It's not often you take orders from Murdock, but this time you are on the same wavelength. So you bite down again, and again that wonderful mix of noise from them both.

For every bite and every hickey you make, Yancy groans, moans, or cries, his voice begging you even though he doesn't utter a single word, too gone for it. Murdock keeps talking to him, switching between degradation and praise, often mixing the two.

"Such a perfect whore aren't you? So open for anyone your Sir tells you to fuck. So willing to just be used and abused, fucked like the little toy you are."

"You just need your Sir's teeth on you to cum, don't you? Such a sweet, but oh so sick, little thing."

"Made to be ruined, that is what you are, made to be filled with cocks and cum."

"Pleaseeeee" It's the first word Yancy has uttered since he begged you to cum when you came home, so you take pity on your baby boy.

Giving no warning to either of them, you reach down, slipping the cockring off Yancy. He doesn't even have time to say anything before he spills all over your hand and the front of your pants.

Murdock grunts, and while Yancy shakes apart around him, he gets a few more pumps in before he spills himself inside of Yancy.

"Such a good baby boy." You whisper into his ear, catching his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Want youse….." Yancy slurs out, Murdock laughs behind him, but you ignore that in favor of sending a fond smile Yancy's way.

"You can get me wherever you want baby, as your reward." Yancy blinks slowly, nods, gasping as Murdock pulls out. "Where do you want me baby?"

"Mouth….." Another slow blink, before he maneuvers himself off your lap and down on his knees. Murdock sits down next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, watching as Yancy nuzzles your cock through your pants.

"What a lovely sight." He reaches down, unzipping your pants for Yancy, and helping him move your underwear out of the way so Yancy can get his mouth on your cock.

"You feeling in a- ah!" Your sentence is broken up as Yancy sinks his mouth down as far as he can go. "Love-y mood tonight?"

"Sometimes a reward is in order after all." Yancy swallows around your cock, making you look down at him.

He has his hands crossed behind his back, his gaze dazed, but at the same time filled with lust. You know what he wants now, but Murdock beats you to it, tangling a hand in his hair, and begins moving him up and down on your cock.

"What a lovely toy." He grins at you, and you huff, rolling your eyes as you tangle a hand in his hair instead, and drag him in for a kiss.

"And the love-y mood was gone." You speak against his lips, which gets a chuckle from Murdock before he kisses you. Yancy whines around your cock and it feels amazing.

You know you won't last long, not with the show they gave you, but you still savor in the feeling of a warm mouth moving up and down on your cock, and the slight stubble as you kiss Murdock.

It only takes a few minutes of two mouths on you for you to cum, spilling yourself into one as you moan against the other.

"Such a good Sir." Murdock whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe for the briefest of seconds. He's testing the limits, and you both know it. Though instead of challenging or calling him on it, you turn your focus to Yancy.

He has his eyes closed, head resting on your thigh, breathing heavy and a bit shaky. Reaching out, your gentle touch to his cheek makes him open his eyes. He opens his mouth next, showing how your cum is gone.

"Good boy." You gently urge him to get up, doing the same. You check him over as he sways lightly in your hold, and Murdock's as he gets up to, supporting Yancy with a hand on his back.

"You good baby?"

"Mhm, thank youse sir." You give him a quick kiss, holding his face. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes again and sighing, a sound you know means that you will need help to keep him from falling asleep until you have at least gotten him through the shower.

You glance at Murdock, who is watching the display with rapt attention. When you make eye-contact with him, you raise a brow, and he nods.

You both start to move Yancy in the direction of the bathroom, which makes Yancy let out a little noise if discontent, because it's the opposite direction of the bed.

"Shush baby boy, your sir and I just need to take care of you first, then you'll get to sleep as much as you'd like."

"And cuddles?" Yancy mumbles as you make it to the bathroom.

"And of course cuddles, in clean sheets even, since Murdock will change them." Murdock snorts, and you poke out your tongue at him. "Your turn, and besides, you started this."

"Technically you did, when you left for your work trip and said I could have some fun." Murdock lets go of Yancy for a few moments, getting the shower started.

"Again, I said both of you could have fun, an-"

"I had fun..." Yancy mutters as he bonks his head against your shoulder, before he is led inside the shower.

"I know baby." All three of you in the shower is luckily no problem anymore since you got the bathroom renovated.

"Of course you did, it was with me." You try to flick Murdock's side, but he easily avoids it, glaring at you with no heat. You roll your eyes then chuckle.

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sierracolorstheworldofwords · 3 months ago

Text

🌟Masterlist🌟

Labyrinth (1986)

The lonely king (Complete):

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

It's only forever (In progress):

One shots (Jareth x reader):

The Garden

The kitten

Early bird

Does Hoggle have b.o?

The witch

Markiplier egos:

Reader who's afraid to love head cannons

yandereplier x insecure/anxious reader

yandereplier x reader: fluff

Dark x Erix Derekson x Reader

Wilford x depressed reader

Dark x haphephobic reader

Dark x panicking reader

Dark x overworked reader

Dark x snail lover reader

Yancy x chubby! self conscious reader

Wilford Warfastache x reader: Christmas!

Dark x reader fluff

Yancy head cannons

Yandere! Wilford Warfstache x chubby reader

EGOTOBER (2019)

Day one: Flowers

Day two: Trap

Day three: Pose

Day four: Jacket

Day five: Umbrella

Day six: Coffee or tea

Day seven: Barrier

Day eight: Sneak (KOTS)

Day Nine: Blue (Googleplier)

Day ten: Phone (Yan x reader)

Day eleven and tweleve: Swap & travel (self insert)

Day thirteen and fourteen: Stripes & car (Wilford x reader)

Day sixteen and seventeen: Wave and bright (Bim Trimmer)

Day fifteen: Metal (Bing)

Day eighteen: Gold (Eric Derekson)

Day nineteen: Music (Priestiplier)

Day twenty: Leaves (Wilford and Yan)

Day twenty one: Sleep (Doc)

Day twenty two: Cauldron (Dark)

Day twenty three: Spooked: (Yan x reader)

Day twenty four:

Day twenty five: Moonlight: Wilford Warfstache x @matronofthevoid

Day twenty six: Purple

Day twenty seven: Fangs, KOTS

Day twenty eight: Candy, Wilford

Day twenty nine: Countiplier (@justwritingscibbles oc) x reader

Day thrity: Shadow, Randall

Day thrity-one: Halloween!

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westanthewaterman · 3 years ago

Text

Be Free - Yancy x GN!Reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1600+

Content: kissing, very slight angst but a happy ending

AO3 Masterlist

The gates to Happy Trails Penitentiary open with a loud screech. Yancy stands at the entrance for a moment, eyes fixed on the sidewalk outside the jail. Twelve years. Twelve years he spent locked up. He never thought this day would come, never wanted it to.

Until he met you.

Yancy had never cared about a life outside Happy Trails. He could never imagine himself anywhere else. But after you came along, suddenly it was all he could think of - a life, a home…a partner.

It took a year of good behavior, no stabbing, no starting fights. The warden almost didn’t believe him when Yancy said he wanted to apply for parole.

“There ain’t no place out there in the world for you, son,” he had said.

But Yancy disagreed. Wherever you are, that’s where he’s meant to be.

So he pushed and pushed until finally, the warden agreed. He had been scared to tell the gang, worried they’d think less of him, but they were all happy for Yancy. They all knew how much you meant to him. So the gang got together to throw him a going-away party; there was a musical number and everything. And after promising them he’d write often, Yancy gathered the few belongings he had and walked to the gate.

And now here he was, free for the first time since he was a teenager. He almost wants to turn around, go back inside, and tell the warden he was right.

But then a car pulls up in front of him. The driver's side door opens and you climb out, beaming at him.

“Yance!”

Yancy grins ear to ear, taking that last step through the gates and out into the world. He pulls you into a bear hug and you both laugh.

“It’s so good to see yous!”

You smile up at him, patting his arm. “I can’t believe you’re out. I…Yancy, I’m so proud of you.”

He beams.

You hug him one more time before gesturing to your car. “Shall we?”

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

The two of you climb into the car and Yancy looks over at you.

“So, where’s we going?”

“First, we’re going shopping because those clothes the warden gave you are…”

You trail off, looking down at the khakis and button-up shirt that was a size too big.

Yancy rubs the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“Yous know I ain’t got any money.”

“Yes I do, which is why it’s my treat.”

“N-No, I couldn’t ask yous to do that.”

“Shush. We’re going shopping, end of story.”

“Alright…if yous insist. But I’m gonna pay yous back once I find a job.”

You take Yancy to one of your favorite thrift shops and the two of you take as much time as you want, sifting through the clothes racks, giggling while trying on all kinds of silly things. Eventually, you settle on a few outfits for Yancy to get him started. He walks out of the store in a pair of distressed jeans, a white t-shirt, and a nice-looking denim jacket. It’s a good look for him, very greaser style, and you can’t help but stare just a little.

“How do I look?” Yancy smiles, turning this way and that.

You lick your lips, your mouth is suddenly very dry. “Good. Yeah. You look good.”

“Feels weird to be wearin’ somethin’ other than my prison digs, but I like it. Used to have a jacket just like this one.”

“It’s very you.”

The two of you head back to the car.

“Yous really don’t mind me crashing at yous’s place for a while?”

“Not at all, Yance. You’re always welcome. My place is a little small, but we’ll make it work.”

“If yous say so.”

Instead of driving north into town, you take a turn and start down a smaller, less populated road. Yancy looks out the window curiously at the trees and fields of grass that pass by.

“We’s not goin’ home?”

“I got a surprise for you.”

“What? No, yous already done so much for me.”

“And I like doing things for you.”

Blush colors his cheeks and Yancy turns his head to look back out the window. He feels guilty that you’ve done so much for him and there isn’t any way for him to repay you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s some kind of moocher or that he’s unappreciative.

“We’re here!”

“Huh?”

You park the car in front of a small park and get out, going around to open the trunk.

“What’re we doin’ here?”

You pull a picnic basket and a blanket out of the trunk and shut the door. “We’re going to have a picnic!”

“A picnic?”

“Yeah, I figured it’s going to take you some time to get used to being back in society and everything, so I thought we could do something a little quieter.”

“Hey, that’s…that’s really nice of yous.”

“Come on, there’s a really nice spot up the hill a little.”

The two of you trek through the park to the top of a small hill surrounded by trees. There’s a small river at the bottom of the hill and the sound of the water bubbling and running fills the air.

You lay the blanket down on the grass and put the picnic basket on it before sitting down. Yancy just watches you, suddenly very nervous but he can’t seem to figure out why.

“Are you gonna sit down?”

“I…yous didn’t have to do all this for me.”

You groan playfully. “Yance, I told you already, I want to. I care about you.”

That makes something in his chest tighten painfully. You care for him? That’s not right. Why would anyone care about him? He’s a criminal, a murderer. He doesn’t deserve someone like you caring about him. You’re too good for him. You’ll never feel the same way he does about you. He should leave, tell you to stop wasting your time on him, tell you-

“Yancy.”

He blinks and looks down at you.

“Come here.” You hold your hand out for him.

Yancy takes your hand and you pull him down to the blanket next to you. Slowly, you reach out and cup the side of his face, giving him a gentle smile. The touch sends his heart beating out of his chest. When was the last time someone touched him in such a soft way? When was the last time someone looked at him like that?

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s nothing. Really, yous don’t need to worry.”

“Yancy, talk to me. You can tell me anything, you know that don’t you? Do you not like the picnic? We can go home if you want.”

“No, no, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothin’, okay? Just nothin’.” He pulls away from you.

You reel back, your eyes dropping to your hands. “I’m…sorry if I’m being too much.”

The sad tone in your voice makes his heart ache and he knows he should just let it be. It’s better if you don’t like him anymore, but he can’t stand the idea of hurting you. Yancy reaches out slowly and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re not too much.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m not worth all this. I’m…not worthy of you.”

“You take that back right now.”

He flinches at the steel in your voice. “What?”

“Take it back. Yancy, you are worth more than anything to me. I don’t care what you’ve done or what kind of person you think you are. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone and I’m not going to let you sit here and convince yourself otherwise.”

“B-But-”

“No. You are a kind man with a good heart and you mean so much to me. You have to understand that. Yancy, I love you.”

The words slip out before you can stop them. Both of your eyes grow wide as you stare at each other. He doesn’t say anything and you feel yourself starting to panic.

“Yancy, I-”

His hands cradle your face and he pulls you into a kiss. You feel fireworks behind your eyes and you grab the front of his shirt, never wanting to let go.

“I love yous too,” he says against your lips.

When you pull apart, you both have goofy smiles on your faces.

“So.” He smirks. “Was this yous’s plan all along? Take me out to the woods and seduce me?”

You can feel your face heating up and you groan. “Don’t make fun of me, okay? I thought it would be romantic.”

“Well, it is. Yous did a good job. Coulda used some candles though, woulda really helped set the mood.”

You groan, shoving him away playfully. “No. You’ve ruined it. Ruined it. Here I was, trying to have a nice, romantic date and you’re making fun of me.”

“I would never!” Yancy reaches for you but you bat his hands away.

“No, it’s too late. The moment is gone. We might as well just pack up and go home. Love is dead.”

He laughs and pulls you in for another kiss, smiling against your mouth.

“I love yous.” He whispers.

“I love you too, Yance. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Now.” He claps his hands together. “We gonna open this picnic basket or what? Let’s get some food goin’, I’m starvin’.”

You open the picnic basket and pull out drinks and two sandwiches.

“Alright, I wasn’t sure what you like so tuna or pb&j?”

Yancy looks at you with a fond smile as warmth fills his chest. He’s found his place in the world and it’s right here with you.

#yancy x reader #yancy x you #ego x reader #yancy x reader insert #jailbird #sfw #west writes #requests

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orange-waterfalls · 3 years ago

Text

Conjugal Visit

Yancy the Prisoner x gn!reader

Yancy misses you. You haven’t visited in a while, and he has no idea why.

ty ME for the request djkshvdjdg

A/N: I put a notification on my calendar for every 3rd Sunday and I forgot about it and then last Sunday I saw it and felt so fucking bad that I forgot about my boy so I wrote this. Not much to say, just an angsty, fluffy fic. Bit of cursing and suggestive moments, but other than that, we’re good. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.3K

Conjugal Visit (Yancy x reader)

“Where’s Yancy?” An inmate’s voice caught Tiny’s attention. She paused her walking and turned to the two.

“Iunno. Haven’t seen him since visiting hours.” The other one said.

“5 hours ago? Wonder where he’s been.” The first shrugged and they walked away. Tiny scanned the room until her eyes landed on Sparkles McGee, mopping the floors. She made a beeline for him and got closer than necessary, making him jump.

“Tiny, come on, I just cleaned that spot–” He started to complain.

“Hey, where’s Yancy?” Tiny asked. McGee gave her a suspicious-looking side-glance before clearing his throat.

“I dunno. Nowhere, probably. Maybe he…” He took a long pause. Tiny raised an eyebrow. “... escaped?”

“He doesn’t wanna be free. He made a whole song about it. We rehearsed for a month. ‘There’s nothing more exquisite than my 14 minute conjugal visit’. Ring a bell?” She pressed, stepping just a little closer to him. He stepped away in retaliation.

“Haha… oh. Yeah…” He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. Tiny stared at him as he refused to make eye contact with her. “It’s ‘than when I get my 14 minute conjugal visit’ not ‘than my 14…” Tiny scowled as he talked, making McGee stop talking and look at the floor.

“Where’s Yancy?” She asked again.

“I… don’t know.” McGee very obviously lied. She gave him a Look.

“Don’t lie to me, Sparkles.” She sighed.

“I don’t! Really, I don’t know. I don’t think anyone else will either.” McGee crossed their arms and looked away. Tiny looked around until she saw BamBam whistling while walking around.

“BamBam, where’s Yancy?” She called out. BamBam paused, turning to look at her and smiling.

“Oh, crying in solitary because he got no visitors today.” They explained, and then continued to whistle and walk. Tiny turned to McGee, who shot a look of disbelief in BamBam’s general direction. He then looked down at Tiny.

“Was that so hard?” She whispered. He sighed.

“He doesn’t wanna be bothered…” He mumbled back.

“Well, that’s too bad.” She started towards solitary confinement. McGee grabbed her shoulder, making her turn and look at him.

“Ok-Just-Don’t… be mean.” He begged.

“I have to be mean. It’s my love language. Along with physical touch.” She shrugged. McGee frowned.

“Physical touch?” He asked. Tiny turned to fully face him and punched him in the chest. Not too hard, but hard enough for him to bend over a little and cough while rubbing at his chest. He looked at her. “... ow.”

“Later.” She threw up peace signs and walked away.

“Yeah, bye, Tiny.” He answered.

Tiny walked her way to solitary confinement. Traditionally, solitary was bad for you, even traumatizing, if you were in there for long. But the guards were nice, and brought in a TV if they felt you were being too quiet or were in complete nothingness for too long. Still pretty bad, but it could be a lot worse. Plus, they let Yancy sing whenever he was in there. That’s how you knew he got thrown in solitary.

But, as she approached confinement, there was no sound of music or Yancy’s voice, so that wasn’t a good sign.

“Yancy? You in there?” She asked, knowing the answer. He didn’t respond. She crossed her arms. “If you’re in there, you should tell me before I go into your cell and steal Bearon Beary Bearington the Third.” Again, he didn’t respond. She began to walk to Yancy’s cell.

“... it’s the Fourth. And go away.” He said, eventually. Tiny spun around and walked back to the cell. She leaned her back on the wall, and slid to the ground.

“No, I don’t think I will.” She teased.

“Leave me alone…” He whined. She rolled her eyes a little at his childishness.

“What’s wrong, Yance?” She sighed. He didn’t answer, and she snorted. “Fine. I guess I’ll just sit here till you decide to talk.” They both were quiet for a few minutes, and Tiny started to get bored. She really wanted to leave and do something, but she would stay here for a little longer in case he decided he did want to talk.

Eventually, just as Tiny was getting ready to give up, she heard a sniffle from inside the cell. She put her ear to the wall and heard soft crying. She frowned, her cold demeanor faltering.

“Yance? What’s wrong?” She asked, softly. Yancy sighed.

“They… They said…” He began, voice cracking. He sighed again.

“Hm?” She pressed him to continue, gently.

“I… thought they would visit…” He said so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it.

“Who? The new inmate that got out?” She thought back to them. It’d been a while, hadn’t it?

“... I suggested it… I thought they… liked me… I thought they’d… visit…” He explained. Tiny sighed.

Right. He had a crush. A big one.

“Maybe they’ve been busy.” She suggested.

“There’ve been a lotta visitation days… they came once er twice, but…” He didn’t acknowledge Tiny’s words. She paused.

“... maybe they’ve been busy.” She repeated. Yancy snorted.

“Doin’ what?”

“Pfft… fighting… aliens?” Tiny shrugged with a small laugh.

“Haha.” Yancy deadpanned, finally looking at her through the tiny window of the cell. She could see how red and puffy his eyes were, even from there.

“No, seriously.” She shook her head and smirked. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hm… they could tell me if they ever came around.” He went back inside the cell. She heard him sit on the ground, so she sat with her back against the wall again.

“Maybe they will. Y’never know.”

“Whatever…”

“We’ll try again next visitation day. Don’t give up hope, alright?” She patted the wall. He chuckled softly.

“Yeah… whatever.” – Yancy wrung his hands nervously as he waited in the visitor area. It had already been a few minutes, visitors for the other inmates were filing in. It was only a little while, but he was already anxious. Tiny had gotten his hopes up, and he really didn’t want to be disappointed again. He watched them talk with their friends and lovers and families. He watched how happy they were. They were just… talking. There was nothing in particular, just talking.

He couldn’t help but feel jealous. He wanted someone to just talk to.

A few minutes turned into 10. 10 turned into half an hour. Half an hour turned into a full hour and Yancy turned around and went back to his cell.

This was pointless. He shouldn’t’ve gotten his hopes up. He was an idiot.

He threw himself onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stu–

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the sound of self-loathing!” BamBam called out as he stepped into the room. Yancy groaned.

“What d’youse want from me?” He whined.

“I want you to stop throwing yourself a pity party,” BamBam answered, grabbing Yancy by the back of the shirt and throwing him onto the ground. He didn’t move upon the action, but he did turn to glare at the other inmate.

“In the words of our Lord and savior Lesley Gore, ‘it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to’,” Yancy said through gritted teeth. “Jus’ go away.” Yancy got up and plopped back on his bed, crossing his arms. He glared at BamBam, who raised his eyebrows.

“... if you say so. JIMMY!” He yelled. Yancy’s eyes widened as he looked up to see Jimmy approaching him.

“Nononono, hey-HEY–” Yancy protested, to no avail. Jimmy grabbed Yancy and threw him over his shoulder, turning and walking down the hall. “JIMMY! Put me down.”

Jimmy did not, in fact, put him down, but carried him all the way to the yard, throwing him on the ground. Yancy stood up, wiping the grass and dirt off of his clothes, before he froze.

Chairs. In a circle. With inmates sitting on them.

This was an intervention.

He turned to run back inside, but was stopped by Jimmy’s hulking figure. He sighed.

“Alright. What is it this time? The fightin’? The cigs? The solitary? Listen, it’s a good way to clear my thoughts!” Yancy explained himself to the group.

“It’s a good way to drive yourself insane! But, no, that’s not what this is about.” Hank crossed his arms. Yancy furrowed his eyebrows.

“Then…?” He paused and thought about it, “Ohhh, I get it. Pity party. Youse guys don’t think I have a right to mourn a relationship that never got to happen. I got it.”

“We’re worried, Yancy.” Sparkles said in a soft, condescending voice.

“If youse was worried, you’d shut the hell up about it!” Yancy yelled.

“That is the exact opposite of what you should do!” Tiny shouted back. Another inmate put her hand on Tiny’s shoulder, making her sit back in her chair.

“Youse should treat this like a… a drug addiction. Allow me to continue, safely, under supervision, until I can break it.” Yancy argued. The prisoners all look at each other.

“... fine. But if next visitation day they don’t show up, we’ll–” Tiny was cut off by Mr. Murder-Slaughter.

“Yancy! There you are! Just wanted to remind you of your conjugal visit tomorrow.” The man said. Yancy stared at him for a moment.

“Sorry… I think-I think I misheard ya. What’d you say I gots tomorrow?” Yancy stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around to see if he was having hearing trouble or what.

“A conjugal visit? With your spouse?” Murder-Slaughter repeated. Yancy took a double-take, and so did all the other inmates.

“My what?” He nearly yelled. Murder-slaughter laughed.

“Oh, yeah, I get it. It’s been a while, excited to see them, nervous you’ve forgotten how ta… you know.” He cleared his throat. Yancy stared at him like he’d gone crazy. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright. They’ve been workin’ a while to get this done. You should be grateful they love you so much.” Murder-Slaughter winked and went back inside, leaving Yancy and the others to process what just happened. Yancy turned to the group, who were just as confused as he was.

“What the fuck???” – Yancy stared at you as the two of you sat on the bed in the furnished room. You were pretty happy and excited, but Yancy was still so, so very confused.

“So…” You sighed, patting your thighs.

“So,” He parrotted.

“We should pro–” You started, but he interrupted.

“Why’d youse stop visiting?” He asked. You widened your eyes, looking at him in surprise.

“Oh. I thought they would’ve told you. I told Mark to tell you.” You tilted your head. Yancy squinted at you.

“Tell me… what?” He asked. You smile, and dig through your bag for a moment. Yancy tries to look over your shoulder to see what you’re getting. You put out a few papers, showing them to him. The top says “Certificate of Marriage”, and the papers had signatures from both of you. Yancy stared at the documents.

“Happy conjugal visit, dear husband!” You laughed. Yancy looked at you, and a smile slowly creeped onto his face.

“How the hell did youse manage this?” He asked in awe.

“Well, technically, you don’t have an actual signature for a reference, so I just had Mark make you one and then sign the paper. I also have a, uh… ‘friend’ who just so happens to be very good with… computers. And I asked for a favor, so he… yeah. We’ve now been legally married for uhhh… three years.” You explained, bouncing your leg.

“... and youse got us married… without me… because…?” He smirked. You puffed out your cheeks with air a bit.

“Well… uh… I wanted… more time with you… so this got us like… a long time. Every week, y’know?” You shrugged, looking away, embarrassed. Yancy smiled so wide his face hurt.

“Youse is… the smartest… and dumbest… most wonderful person I’s ever met.” Yancy chuckled. You clicked your tongue and shoved his arm.

“Aw, you’re just saying that…” You mumbled, turning away.

“No, really, this is… so dumb. It should not have worked. But it did, somehow, because youse did it. And I love that about youse.” He sighed, gazing at you. You whipped your head back to look at him. Yancy, feeling like he’d done something wrong, widened his eyes. You started to smile, however, so he calmed down.

“You love me, huh?” You wagged your eyebrows. Yancy rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sure you didn’t, buddy.”

“So… what do you wanna do?” He tapped his fingers together. He knew some things that spouses did, and he didn’t know if he was exactly ready for that. Mr. Murder-Slaughter was right. He was nervous.

“I have a few ideas…” You leaned towards him and batted your eyes at him. He widened his and felt his face heat up. God, he might die. Sure, he liked you, but… now? Here? On a Monday afternoon? He wasn’t ready!

“And… they are?” He squeaked. You smiled cheekily and he swallowed harshly.

“Wanna Smash?” Yancy choked on nothing at your suggestion.

“PARDON?” His voice cracked.

And then you pulled a Switch out of your bag. Yancy blinked at it and then looked at you.

“Wanna Smash?” You repeated. He sighed, closing his eyes.

“... Super Smash Bros–” He whispered.

“Super Smash Bros, Yancy.” You chuckled. He opened his eyes and looked down at you. You were smiling from ear to ear.

“You know what you did.” He accused.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You handed him one of the controllers and set the Switch up on the bed. He watched your face the whole time. How you focus on the screen, your eyebrows furrow a little, you stick your tongue out a little. He bites his lip and taps the controller.

“... we can do that some other visit.” He murmured. You stopped and looked at him.

“I… maybe.” You whisper.

“Can I play that guy?” He pointed to a guy on the screen. You glared at him.

“If you play as Little Mac I am going to divorce you and I’m taking the kids.” You warned. He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

God, no wonder he missed you so much.

#markiplier egos x reader #iplier egos x reader #iplier egos #yancy markiplier #yancy the prisoner #ahwm yancy #a heist with markiplier yancy #yancy x reader #yancy x gender neutral reader #yancy x gn!reader #x reader fic #x reader #gender neutral pronouns #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #reader insert #x you #yancy x you

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weirdlyobsessedwithegos · 3 years ago

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Yancy x reader

@the-crypt-of-randomness : Been missing many of the boys, but mostly Yancy. Sooo... Yancy x reader, "I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

Anon: "kissing their lover's knuckles" and "tracing their finger over their lover's tattoos/scars" from the soft writing prompts with Yancy? he's with you during one of his first nights on parole and you're just so?? overwhelmed that you can hold him now?? he's telling you a bit about the tattoos too while you hold him, and you're both just so happy.

Something a little soft, hope you enjoy!

Yancy loves parole, he finds, when during one of his first days out, you and him cuddle close on the couch, him on top of you, his face hidden in your neck while the radio goes on in the background.

Or rather, Yancy’s favorite part of being out on parole is the ability to hold you close, hug you and touch you as much as he likes, not just seeing you in his mind or on the other side of the glass of the visitation booth.

He can feel when you laugh as he blows raspberries on your neck, feel your hand scratch against his scalp as you pull him up for a kiss, feel your lips press against his as you distract him, flipping him over so he’s the one underneath you on the couch.

You move back slightly so you can pepper kisses all over his face, making it Yancy’s turn to laugh as you sit up in his lap.

You grin down at him, and he can’t help but return it.

He’s so fucking happy, that he thinks his chest might combust, so happy that you convinced him to take parole. You’re not helping matters as your fingers glide over the side of his neck, approximately where one of his tattoos are.

“Why did you get this one?”

“Lost a bet, one of mah friends has this little characters they like to draw youse know, and I bet them I could out-eat them at dinner on night, and youse know like they say, the rest is history an’ shit.” You snort at that last bit.

“Don’t think ‘and shit’ is part of the quote.”

“Is not?” You shake your head, smiling at the story, removing your hand from his neck, letting them both rest on his chest. He grins up at you, loving how you look in his lap, and how solid you are, how he can hold you close now.

You’re the one person in the world that has made him feel like this, and as he looks up at you with his hands on your hips, he can’t help but wonder.

“Why did youse want me to get parole? Why did youse believe in me?”

“Oh, wow, that came out of nowhere, such loaded questions you ask.” You try to deflect a little, but when he just looks up at you with expecting eyes, you sigh lightly. You take one of his hands from your hip, holding it gently in yours, letting your thumb stroke over his knuckles, over the words printed there.

He had quickly learned that your silence is not a bad thing, that you are merely thinking over your words, not one for many; you are very aware what weight they might hold.

"I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.” A pause as you bring his hand up so you can place feather light kisses on his knuckles. “And I don’t think you are as bad as you claimed to be. And I never will.” The smile sent his way is soft, and Yancy’s eyes starts to sting, which he hides by dragging you into a tight hug.

“Thank youse.” He chokes out, the response he gets is a hum from you and your own arms sneaking under and around his torso, not letting go of him.

You stay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other, saying nothing, just feeling each other close.

Yancy only loosens his arms when he is certain that he won’t cry.

You plant a kiss just under his jaw, moving off his lap, but not going far, only fetching a blanket from the end of the couch. You lay back down with your head on his chest, pulling the blanket over you both.

Yancy knows you can hear his fast beating heart as you pull on his arm and take his hands in yours, kissing the knuckles as his other arm goes around your back.

“What about theses ones?” Yancy smiles down at you, planting a kiss on your forehead, (just because he can), before launching into an explanation of what the words on his knuckles mean.

#yancy x reader #yancy #yancy x y/n #yancy ahwm #yancy iswm #ahwm yancy #iswm yancy #yancy fic #yancy fanfiction #reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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holdhoiyghost · 3 years ago

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"Yeah, and one more thing. I uh..." The man across the glass looks a little sheepish, a lot happy. "I applied for parole."

A pressure builds in the corners of your eyes immediately as you put your hand on the glass separating you two. "Yanc..."

You watch the corners of his eyes crinkle as his hand comes up to meet yours - so close, yet still too far. "I thought about what youse was sayin' when we, uh -" he clears his throat and glances behind him, "when you wrote me that last letter."

You knew what he was talking about, despite having never written any letters. Better to say that instead of 'when I got you out of prison,' yeah? Your eyes move to his hand after he finished with his over-dramatic gesture, ever the theatric.

"And I thought to myself, 'Hey, why not?' You know?" His eyes show nothing but love as he presses his hand against the glass once more.

"Yeah, I... I know." You can feel your chest tighten just a bit as you bring your hand back for just a second to wipe your eyes.

"Aw, hey, don't - don't youse go cryin' now. Youse's gonna make me cry, too." The brunet's eyes start to tear up as he says it, voice thickening as he speaks.

You close your eyes as you smile at him. "Sorry, Yanc, I'm just really happy. I'm proud of you - you've had to do a lot for this, right?"

Your hand finds his on the glass once more, unable to help the way your heart feels a little lighter at hearing all the ways he's tried to improve himself. Tried to improve successfully, at least. Not stabbing anyone was definitely a feat, if the way his tone and actions weren't enough of an indicator.

"Oh, and we've been workin' on this new song, just in case you showed up! Oh, you're gonna love it. Hang on."

Yancy goes to put the phone back on its holder and you quickly tap the glass to get his attention back on you. "Leave it off so I can hear it, Yanc."

"Oh, right. Always forget about that, heh." His voice is a little sheepish as he lays it down on the table before bringing his fingers to his lips to whistle. He grabs a bat from the cubicle and points to the guard before grabbing the chair and moving to the opposite side of the visitation room. The lights change a bit and you feel your eyes start to water once more, propping your chin in your hand and staring at Yancy - center stage, as always.

Hopefully he'll be granted parole. It'll be hard for him, having spent most of his life in prison - but maybe... maybe he'll learn to like life outside of it again. You'll be there for him, of course.

#i liked the line from space but i just. i hated leaving him #let me have this okay #line from iswm but not iswm canon. sort of.#its divergent idk how to tag this #this is mostly for myself ngl but i post for sharing #yancy #yancy ahwm #fic #yancy x reader #yancy/reader #reader insert #still tagging as space spoilers tho so pls dont kill me #iswm spoilers #iswm 2 spoilers #null writes #markiplier egos

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creat0r-cat · 3 years ago

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Yancy x reader - Behind the Pen

(Y/n) had come to expect letters arriving in her cell every other day. It was a constant thing now. Her family wrote to her occasionally, but the majority of notes she received were from someone she didn't recognize.

And how could she recognize a letter from someone who never signed it?

As cliche as it sounded, her apparent admirer was constantly complimenting her through his penmanship. The only reason she knew he was a male was because he had said before in a past letter, "A man like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

That comment had made her blush so much that the other female prisoners worried she was running a fever.

(Y/n) held a new note in her hand, admiring just how simple it was. A small piece of paper with the front held together by a red heart sticker, like you would find on a first grader's valentine. Inside was some messy yet intelligible handwriting that looked like an attempt at fancy calligraphy.

"(Y/n),

A dove like you should be away and free from us ravens and crows. But of course, this jailbird fell in love with you and can only dream of making you his own. After what I've done with my life, how could I deserve to even be close to you, much less your lover? Nevertheless, like Romeo, I will continue to love you, my Juliet, even if it kills me."

(Y/n) blushed and walked out of her cell and made it to the yard where a majority of people were gathered. Like usual, they were either playing basketball, lifting weights, or taking a small nap in the sunlight. It was a gorgeous day outside and sleep sounded very appealing, but (Y/n) had something to do first.

"Hey guys!" She greeted her fellow female prisoners, the letter clutched in her hand. Tiny, one of the tougher girls, smiled at her mischievously. "Ohhh~ you got another letter? What does it say this time?"

Some of the other girls crowded around her to hear the reply as it was read out. They were all romantics in some kind of way and a secret admirer story unfolding right in front of them was certainly exciting.

"Well, he told me that I didn't belong in a place like this, and he even called me his Juliet." Some of the ladies let out an "awww" and Tiny wrapped her arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders. "Man, he really seems to have a thing for you, huh? Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know. I keep hoping I can pick up signs or some kind of hint when I interact with the boys, but I'm not picking up on anything. I guess I'm just really boggled that I even have a.."

She trailed off as she looked toward a group of 8 boys playing basketball over in the prison court. There, being patted on the back after an amazing 2-point shot, was Yancy. (Y/n) blushed, seeing how his slightly damp shirt clung to his toned body, his skin slightly shining from sweat as he panted and smiled at his teammates.

Time just seemed to move in slow motion when she looked at him. He was beyond attractive. He was so handsome, he could kill ladies with just a look. Heh, maybe that's another reason why he was in prison.

"(Y/nnn)? Hello?" Tiny waved a hand in front of her face, seeing that her friend had zoned out. "Huh? Oh sorry. Were you asking me something?" Some of the other girls gave each other knowing looks and (Y/n) looked at them in confusion. "Am I missing something?"

"You have it rough for him, huh?" Asked Tiny and (Y/n)'s face erupted into a bright red blush. "Huh? Why would you say that? He's my friend, granted that he's a very attractive friend, but still!"

"Girl, admit it. You have a big ol' crush on Yancy." (Y/n) knew she was caught and she looked down in embarrassment. "I.. gosh I know I do but I feel kinda bad about it because I have no idea who's writing me these notes. I kinda hope it's him, but if it's not I'm gonna feel terrible if I don't like this guy back and reject him."

"Reject who?"

(Y/n) stiffened, recognizing the voice that came up behind her. "Oh, hey Yancy," said Tiny with a smirk, "we were just talking about (Y/n)'s secret admirer." (Y/n) turned around to see the scruffy faced man she had grown to love. He smiled while his tattooed hand rubbed the back of his neck.

"A secret admirer eh? You don't usually see dat in prison. Yous gots any idea who it could be?" (Y/n) shook her head. "I don't recognize the handwriting and I haven't really got any other clues, so no not really. Do you know anything?"

Yancy shrugged. "We males don't really talk about all dat romance and lovey dovey stuff, but I'll keep an eye out for ya."

"T-thanks." Was all (Y/n) could say while shyly looking up at his grinning face. He really was so kind. A criminal with a heart of gold. Yancy nodded at the girls behind (Y/n) and turned to leave, joining the other boys back on the court.

Turning back, (Y/n) saw the girls smirking and looking at her expectantly. “What? Is there something on my face?” Tiny shook her head and laughed softly. “No, it’s just that some of us already know who your admirer is.” (Y/n) was shocked. “What?? Who is it?? Tell me!” Giggling, the girls began to move away, shaking their heads. “Sorry, we can’t say anything. Good luck figuring it out though.”

“Tiny! Guys! Come on, I thought we were friends!” Laughed the (h/c) female as she chased after them.

From across the yard, Yancy watched their interaction and he bit his lip nervously. He knew that Tiny and the other girls wouldn’t tell (Y/n) about his secret crush on her, but still, he swore that they loved to tease him with their knowing looks. “Oi, Yancy pay attention!” Said Sparkles McGee, tossing him the basketball. “Sorry. Was just thinking ‘bout stuff, y’know.”

Bam Bam smirked at him. “Oh, thinking about (Y/n) again are we?” Yancy looked over at him quickly, “What? No! ‘Course not. What makes youse say dat? I think of other things.”

“Riiiiight, because staring at her and losing touch with reality means you’re thinking about other things.” Laughed McGee and Yancy pouted a little. “Shut up, it isn’t like dat.”

“We all know about those love notes you’ve been sending her. I’m surprised she doesn’t know it’s you sending them yet.”

“Well, she doesn’t need t’know either.” Snapped the handsome prisoner, glaring at his friends and tossing the basketball to the net only to miss. “I doubt she feels the same anyway.”

“Are you kidding?” said Bam Bam, looking at Yancy with evident shock and confusion. “Have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear you’re just as oblivious as she is!” This was news to the man in question and he looked over to where his crush sat with her friends. She relaxed under a tree, her (h/c) hair slightly messy from the light breeze that flowed through the yard. She laughed, her melodious voice sounding like a symphony to Yancy.

(Y/n) suddenly looked over at him when Tiny pointed him out. She smiled at him, waving, and as he blushed, he waved back. His heart beat so fast and he resisted the urge to run away to his cell. He had a reputation to uphold as the Prison Tough Guy. Turning away, he saw the guys smirking at him and he shook his head, the basketball being passed to him again. “Shut up youse guys.”

-time skip-

As (Y/n) sat in her cell a few nights later, unable to sleep. She was thinking about her admirer. Who could it possibly be? Gosh, she hoped it was Yancy. No, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. Any girl would die to have him as their lover, even if he was a murderer, but Yancy sees all the prisoners as family, so he probably only sees her as a sisterly figure. Her secret admirer was probably someone else.

That same night, Yancy slaved over pieces of paper in his cell. He struggled to come up with the right words to write down, having to start over every time he made a mistake. “You’re my own personal angel.. Ugh no. ‘ve used somethin’ like dat already. Uhh.. You’re so beautiful… naw. Gosh I’ve used up everythin’.” His eyelids were drooping, exhaustion washing over his body. Yancy wanted to give (Y/n) another letter, but he was too tired to write. “Oh well. Maybe I’ll finish it tomorrow..” He thought as he drifted off to sleep surrounded by his crumpled papers.

-timeskip-

“Have you guys seen Yancy?” Asked (Y/n) the next morning. He hadn’t shown up for breakfast which was very unlike him. Both girls and boys alike shook their heads, but then one voice piped up. “I passed by his cell on the way to breakfast,” said Sparkles McGee, “He was fast asleep. I think he was writing a new song or something last night and zonked out in the middle of it.”

“Why don’t you go wake him up, (Y/n).” Suggested Tiny and (Y/n) nodded. “Sure. I’ll be back.” She stood up and made her way down the hall to Yancy’s cell. Sure enough, when she entered, the soft sound of Yancy’s light snoring.

(Y/n)’s heart melted at the adorable sight before her. Yancy was curled up in his bed, cuddling both his pillow and his prison bed blanket. Around him were a bunch of crumpled up pieces of paper. (Y/n) frowned, wondering what exactly he had been writing so late at night. Sure she could just assume that they were just tossed lyrics to a new song, like McGee said, but curiosity was a powerful force and she couldn’t help but look.

She opened the nearest piece of wrinkled paper and her eyes widened. It was a note for her, but most of the writing was scribbled out. (Y/n) could only make out a few words and sentences here and there as she continued looking through the discarded notes. Lots of the phrases were familiar. The handwriting was sloppy but legible, writing out similar sentences to previous letters she had received. (Y/n) could barely contain her tears of joy as she looked at the sleeping man before her.

Yancy was her secret admirer all along.

Placing the gathered papers to the side, (Y/n) crept over to his side and she smiled, reaching over and gently caressing the right side of his face. Yancy leaned into her touch in his sleep, letting out a small purr of pleasure. The poor man was touch starved after all his years in prison and now he finally had the chance to receive the comfort and love that he was craving.

Slowly, Yancy’s eyes began to open and he looked up into (Y/n)’s shining eyes. “(Y-Y/n)? What’re you…” his voice trailed off as her hand trailed up his chiseled jaw into his black hair. He began to fully wake up and he realized what was happening as well as the state of his cell, or more accurately the state which his cell was supposed to be in.

He sat bolt upright, accidentally hitting his head on the top bunk and almost squashing (Y/n)’s hand, and looked around to find that all the papers that were previously strewn around on the floor were nowhere to be found. “Looking for these?” Came (Y/n)’s teasing voice as she held up a stack of small wrinkled papers.

Yancy paled noticeably and his hands began to shake. “(Y-Y/n), p-please, I can explain!” He stood up from his bed, fear written all over his face. “Yancy-”

“No, please listen. I know I’ve been lyin’ to ya about not knowing who was writin’ youse those letters, but I was afraid that youse wouldn’t like me back ‘n I just wanted youse to kinda fall in love with me indirectly before I asked youse to be mine, y’know?”

“Yancy, I-”

“I understand if youse don’t like me back, but-”

“YANCY!!!” He stopped speaking and looked at (Y/n) as she looked at him with an amused smile. “You don’t need to explain yourself. Heck, you had me mostly convinced it was someone else writing these letters.”

“I.. I did?”

“Yes!” Laughed (Y/n), “You did! Honestly, I would’ve felt awful if I had to reject my admirer because they weren’t the person I fell in love with. The letters were flattering, but it would’ve been so much easier just to tell me that you liked me after spending time getting to know me.” Yancy blushed and looked away before she used her hand to gently bring his gaze back to her.

“And I like you too, Yancy, in a romantic way. I have for a really long time.”

Yancy blushed so hard and he rubbed his neck shyly. She smiled, taking his free hand and squeezing it. “Alright, well let’s go to breakfast. The others are going to get suspicious if I never come back after going to get you.”

“Heh, I guess so, since they already knew about my little crush on youse.”

Even though they both knew they should leave, neither of them really wanted to. It was a nice change of pace to just have time for the two of them. (Y/n) looked up at Yancy and leaned up, kissing him gently.

The kiss only lasted a second, but it brought one of the best feelings either of them had ever felt. “I… you..” stumbled Yancy, struggling to say coherent words as he touched his lips in awe. He looked back at (Y/n) with a hopeful expression.

“C-could we do that again?”

(Y/n) laughed and nodded, “Of course.” This time, Yancy was the one to take the lead, leaning down and gently holding the sides of her face in his large hands. His lips met hers in a passionate hunger which took (Y/n) off guard. It was a sloppy kiss, clearly inexperienced but euphoric to experience for the both of them.

“Y-Yancy, we’re gonna get caught. I was sent to find you and bring you to breakfast. Everyone’s gonna get suspicious if I never come back.” Yancy kissed (Y/n) again with a small possessive growl. “I don’t care if we get caught. I gotta start showin’ the others around here dat your mine, sweetheart. You’re so dang beautiful. Wouldn't be surprised if one of them started a fight with me over youse.”

Something about him calling her ‘sweetheart’ and getting really protective really got her knees weak and face red. “E-even so. What would the warden say?” That last part is what finally got Yancy to stop. “Fine, I’ll stop..” His arms wrapped around (Y/n)’s frame in a warm hug which was happily reciprocated.

“I love youse, (Y/n).”

“I love you too, Yancy.”

Back in the cafeteria, some of the others were starting to wonder when (Y/n) was going to come back, hopefully with their leader in tow. “Do you think something happened?” Asked Hank, looking over at McGee who was smirking. “Something romantic, maybe.”

Tiny groaned and shook her head in amusement. “I swear the two of them are so dang oblivious they better get together soon because I don’t think I can take the tension and stupidity anymore.” There was a hefty laugh that filled the room but it was soon replaced with cheers as Yancy and (Y/n) walked in from the hallway, holding hands and blushing madly.

From his office, the warden laughed softly, looking at the new couple in one of the security monitors. “It’s about dang time.” he murmured, taking a long sip of his lukewarm coffee.

#yancy x reader #yancy the prisoner #yancy x female reader #iplier egos x reader #x reader insert #x reader #x female reader #female reader #reader insert #markiplier yancy #ahwm yancy #yancy #iswm yancy #a heist with markiplier

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cozyenigma · 3 years ago

Text

No Show

Word Count- 704

Request?- Yes!

Summary- Yancy finds you in the aftermath of one disappointment too many.

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite

Warnings- None

It was only after the whole incident that Yancy found you.

“Hey doll, youse in here?” You heard his voice call. The blankets were more appealing than that conversation. “Doll?”

He was closer now. Quieter, concerned. When a hand settled on your shoulder, gentler than usual by miles, you knew there was no avoiding it. He watched with furrowed brows as you sat up. The blankets pooled around your waist in a bunch and revealed your still teary face. You huffed and wiped at your eyes at the clear worry on his face.

It was a wordless affair as you scooted over, giving him room to sit down next to you. For a moment neither of you said anything.

“Who did this to youse?”

You laughed because that was such a Yancy thing to say. Not what happened, not if he could help. Who did it. Who was going to get an unannounced visit from Yancy and his crew tonight? Unfortunately for him it wasn’t someone in pummeling range.

“No one did this to me,” you said, still pressing at your eyes.

The look on his face told you how much he believed that. “I come back and find ya cryin, doll, that ain’t gonna fuckin stand.”

“Yancy,” you cut in.

Maybe it was the tone of your voice or how you didn’t use a nickname that got him to stop talking. His lips thinned but he fell quiet, listening.

You sighed. As you moved further back on the bunk the cold wall at your back was a welcome distraction. There were a few more beats of silence before you got your thoughts together enough to speak.

“It’s not something that anyone did,” you murmured. “Not here at least. Just- you know how it was visitation day yesterday?” Yancy nodded and you continued, staring down at the floor. “Well one of my best friends was supposed to come by. I hadn’t talked to them in so long and I guess I just got excited. They promised they would be here early.”

Truth be told you had been drifting apart a bit even before your arrest. It was just how life went sometimes or at least that’s what you’d been told. When they reached out, wanting to check in and catch up, you had jumped on it with an eagerness that surprised you.

“They didn’t show,” Yancy said. Not a question.

“No. No they didn’t,” you swallowed back the disappointment to try and continue. “I thought something must’ve come up, y’know? They’ve got their own life. Then when I called them… they said they forgot that they were supposed to be here today. Apparently they had other plans.”

Yancy’s expression darkened. He went to say something and then- stopped himself. Instead, he moves closer to you. A strong arm came up around your shoulders, pulling you the rest of the way so your head was leaning against him. It was warm. Almost involuntarily the tension starts to leak out of you.

“Ya didn’t deserve that,” he said eventually.

It was different to his usual. Yancy for better or worse was a man of action. That usually ended up involving his fists more often than not. You remembered him telling you before that he wasn’t good with words. With a brusque way of speaking, he said what he meant and meant what he said.

This was… more careful. Quieter.

“It ain’t fair. What they did to ya,” he continued. “Specially since youse in here. Specially since they promised.”

“Yancy-“

“Lemme finish,” he said, voice low but firm. “If anybody would know how that felt, what you’re feelin right now? Is us. Me. It ain’t easy.”

You take a slow breath in. Let it out. “It just- sucks.”

“It fuckin sucks ass is what it does.”

The crassness made you snort despite yourself. Yancy was rubbing your arm, slow and gentle. He glances down at you before turning his eyes back to the opposite wall.

“It’s alright to cry. Least round me. Youse don’t gotta worry bout anyone sayin shit either.”

There he was, your overprotective jailbird. You smiled as you turned your face into his shoulder. It still stung but…

“Thanks, Yancy.”

“Don’t mention it, doll.”

#yancy x reader #yancy ahwm #writersofmark #yancy #youtuber ego #reader insert #markiplier ego x reader #ego fanfic #My writing

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lailakotori · 2 years ago

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Headcanons Tomboy reader | Yancy x Tomboy!Fem!reader

After I write Wilford's headcanons, it makes me want to write more non-stop. This canon makes my brain boom Again, So I start to write the idea on this platform.

Summary: Yancy and Tomboy!Reader some Headcanons meet in jail.

TW: Fluff, some Violence, Friend to Lover.

Your first meet is in Jail, Yeah…of course…

You and Yancy are roommates, He is the one who welcomes you in this place and both of you are besties on the first day.

He respects you like a female but It’s seems you don’t act lady to him. That’s why he have a crush on you in first place.

He calls you ‘Big (The first letter of your nickname)’ or ‘Small (The first letter of your nickname)’

He is a leader for everyone when it has a dance battle, but when have a fight battle you will be the leader for him, for everyone.

Yancy love to share an idea about The musical with you and want to show you how it’s been.

If you have hair, you will teach him how to cut or braid your hair.

Every time Yancy opens music, He will take your hand and lead a dance with you.

Sometimes you have a nightmare, so he let you sleep in the same bed and give you a hug while humming a song.

When you fight with another, Yancy will be the one who recovers your lesion.

He confuses his love with you by singing a song and have some slow dance with you.

When you both being lovers, Yancy always cares about your safety. Try to protect you as much as he can.

He love to stab another person in this jail but when you came, He stop doing those things and spend time with you.

If you are not a morning person don’t worry about that. Yancy will woke up and take some food from restaurant to your bed.

Yancy will kisses your forehead to make you calm.

Both of you always hold a hand no matter what happens.

He plans the future of you when the two of you got out of this place, Have some dinner, Slow dance in the moonlight or sleep all day no one will be told to get up. Yeah, Just simple dreams he wants to has its one day…

#markiplier fandom #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier egos x reader #yancy x reader #awhm yancy #yancy the prisoner #yancy my beloved #yancy x you #yancy fanfiction #lailakotori #canon x y/n #canon x reader #self insert x canon #Yancy

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romanticallyghosting · 3 years ago

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💐 + yance

He gasped when he saw you pull out the small bouquet for him. He just sat there with his jaw dropped for a moment before speaking. “Yous really brought those just for me?”

You nodded wordlessly and extended the bouquet over the visitation table for him. He picked it up and brought it to his nose to smell before grinning brightly.

“I forgot how beautiful these were! I promise I’ll return the favor to youse as soon as I get on parole.”

#yancy fanfiction #yancy x reader #yancy x you #yancy x y/n #ghostly answers #the beloved/p #ghostly moots #ghostly writes #yancy #yancy the prisoner #markipler egos #markiplier fandom #reader insert

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idk3ither · 4 years ago

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Is this a dead meme?

#this meme will never not be funny to me #unus annus #unus annus memes #unus #annus #team annus #markiplier #crankgameplays #markiplier x reader #crankgameplays x reader #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #a heist with markiplier yancy #a heist with markiplier #imagine #x reader #reader insert #youtube #unusannusisoverparty

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weirdlyhornyforegos · 2 years ago

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Kinktober Day 16 - dp & leather

MINORS DNI!!!! Day 16 of Kinktober is: dp & leather - Murdock x Yancy x amab reader. I started out with this idea that it was going to be a shorter one.... Brainrot go brrrrr. Really happy with how it came out, enjoy ;3

Also posted on AO3 Kinktober masterlist is here

Wordcount: 2.8k+

Tags/warnings: Yancy gets called good boy/baby boy, double penetration, leather gloves, cum eating

A gentle leather clad hand brushing over your cheek brings you back to the awake world. You blink a few times, being met by the grinning face of Murdock, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, which means he must have been awake for a while.

“Hey sunshine.” He leans down, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmhhh, good morning.”

“It’s almost noon.” You shift onto your back, carding your fingers through his hair, keeping him close and bent over.

“It’s my day off, so sue me.” You tug him down for a kiss, intending for it to be short. But Murdock isn’t one for that, so he deepens the kiss, like he almost always does.

The thought of dragging him down on top of you crosses your mind, but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Breaking the kiss, you whip your head to the side, spotting a man standing just inside the door of your bedroom.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans, his hair is slicked back, and you can see a tattoo on the side of his neck. Which you only notice since he rubs his neck, glancing at you before looking down on the floor.

“Who are you?” Murdock is quick to answer before the man can.

“Remember the friend I told you about?” Murdock pulls back, sauntering over to the man, spinning around when he’s next to him, and smacks between the other man’s shoulder blades, causing the man to have to re-balance himself.

“This is Yancy, and he got out of prison yesterday.” Murdock reminds you of a proud cat that has dragged in a bird that he has hunted for you. Though this little bird is more alive than what a cat would have brought in.

“Ah, so that was where you went yesterday. I thought you just had some work to do.” You sit up on the bed, crossing your legs, supporting one arm on your knee so you can put your head in your hand. You pay no mind that you’re only clad in boxers, but Yancy glances at your barely covered lower half, blushing when you catch him looking.

“It was, and I think he deserves a little celebration, don’t you?”

“Youse don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here.” Yancy only sounds a little bit annoyed, and hello, accent.

“Like you don’t get off on it.” Murdock huffs, and Yancy opens his mouth as if to say something, but you speak before he can.

“I agree with Murdock, at least on the celebration part.” You grin, moving so the headboard is against your back with your legs stretched out in front of you. You grin at Yancy, who licks his lips, his focus fully on you. You pat your thigh, a motion Yancy follows before looking up at your face.

“Come on baby boy, take a seat.” Yancy flushes, very much the reaction you were aiming for. He walks over to the bed, putting a knee on the edge of the bed before you stop him. “Lose the jacket.”

He obliges, shucking off the jacket, revealing more tattoos. You look at them as he gets into bed, straddling your lap with only some gentle prodding. Your hands grab his hips, feeling the firm muscles there as he shifts. His hands land on your shoulders after some mild hesitation.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” You grin up at Yancy, who opens his mouth to answer, but is once more interrupted, this time by Murdock winding his arms around Yancy’s stomach from behind.

“The prettiest.” Yancy side-eyes him when Murdock hooks his chin over Yancy’s shoulder.

“So this is how it’s going to be?” You kiss underneath Yancy’s jaw after he speaks, and you’re sure he can feel your grin against his skin.

“We’re a package deal pretty boy, you don’t get one without the other.” You take a piece of skin between your teeth, carefully biting down. “Besides, Murdock has already told me a few things about you.”

Yancy looks down as you let up from his neck, though that is quickly overtaken by Murdock.

“What do youse know?”

“A couple of things.” Moving one hand from his hip, you drag it over his stomach, up his chest, with a brief pause at a nipple, and then settle it in his hair. You smile at him, which he returns. That disappears into a moan as you tug harshly on his hair, forcing his head back to bare his throat to you. Murdock chuckles behind Yancy, while Yancy licks his lips, trying to gather his mind.

“That being one of them.” One of Murdock’s leather covered hands travels down to the front of Yancy’s pants, rubbing against the growing bulge there.

“Is not fair.” Yancy grumbles, but doesn’t seem too perturbed as he starts bucking up against Murdock’s hand.

“Sweetheart, have you ever known me to play fair?” Murdock rumbles, and you almost laugh when Yancy sighs a very put upon sigh, and shakes his head. Well, as much as he can when you keep his head tilted back with an iron grip on his hair. Leaning forward, you lick a stripe over Yancy’s neck, hearing him swallow heavily in response.

His breath also hitches, and when you look down you see Murdock has unbuttoned Yancy’s pants, his still gloved hand now circling Yancy’s cock.

“Someone is impatient.” Murdock smirks, starting to slowly move his hand up and down on Yancy’s cock. That gets a whine from Yancy as he tries to thrust into Murdock’s hand, but you and Murdock keep him down with a hand on each hip. If your cock weren’t already getting interested, it certainly would have now.

“Only to hear those pretty noises I know he can make, my sunshine.”

-----------

Finally prepped, perhaps a little more than necessary (but who can really blame you when Yancy makes such pretty noises while being fingered open?), Murdock helps Yancy position himself over your cock while you lean against the headboard again.

With firm and still gloved hands guiding him, he starts to sink down on you, and it takes some willpower from you to not just drag him down all the way at once. He’s warm and squeezing perfectly around your cock, making you throb inside of him.

“Mhm, baby boy, so fucking perfect.” Yancy’s head falls backwards onto Murdock’s shoulder, who takes the opportunity to catch his lips in a kiss.

Yancy settles fully on your cock, every inch of you inside that wonderful heat of him. You let out a low moan, throwing your head back for a moment before leaning forward to kiss over Yancy’s neck.

With the attention from both you and Murdock the skin of his neck is already a littered canvas, so you settle for giving a few kitten licks over the marks as you let Yancy adjust.

Only when you feel him try to roll his hips and grind down on you do you do anything more. You loosen your hold on his hips, and he lifts himself up a bit before sinking down again.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.” You groan against his skin, and you can barely hear the moan that gets from Yancy, since it’s muffled against Murdock’s lips.

As he starts to move more, he has to stop kissing Murdock, the angle too odd to keep up. You move back from his neck, catching Yancy’s gaze as he speeds up.

But Murdock is not one to let you have all the attention, so as Yancy bounces on your cock, he rubs himself against Yancy’s ass with strong hands framing his ribs.

Yancy’s hands grips yours and Murdock’s hair, tugging and moaning loudly. You chuckle, and Murdock lets out a groan.

“Such a pretty little thing, made to take cock.” Yancy keens at the praise, but that could also be Murdock’s hand wrapping around his cock. You pay it not too much mind, focused on keeping Yancy bouncing on your cock, feeling him clench around your cock.

You know you hit his prostate when he almost startles on your cock, back bending with a single loud “Fuck!” from him.

You keep aiming for that spot as well as you can, hitting it every so often while Murdock keeps talking into Yancy’s ear, the almost whisper close to getting lost in the sound of flesh against flesh and Yancy’s moans and cries of pleasure.

“Stretched around a cock, so full, and you love it, don’t you?” Yancy nods, whining as Murdock’s hand around his cock slows down. It doesn’t disappear completely, but his touch is a lot lighter, teasing and barely there while you keep Yancy moving up and down on your cock with ease.

You see Murdock removing his hand from Yancy’s ribs, tugging his glove off with his teeth. Curious, you keep your eyes on him, in return you get a wicked smile. With nimble fingers he easily opens the lube again and spreads some on his fingers, dropping the bottle on the bed as he gets Yancy’s bouncing to slow down.

“I think you could take more, don’t you think so as well, dove?” One of his fingers presses inside of Yancy alongside your cock, and you’re not sure who moans louder, you or Yancy.

“Pleaseeee.”

“Please what?” Murdock grins at you over Yancy’s shoulder, kissing his shoulder as Yancy pants, holding himself completely still now.

“Want me to open you up even more, make you feel that stretch you love? Want me to fuck you open with my fingers alongside my sunshine’s cock, and then my cock too?” Yancy groans, and you feel him clench so wonderfully around your cock.

You know Murdock likes to hear people beg in so many ways, and it seems Yancy knows too, as he only takes a few more moments before he begs so prettily.

“Please, please, please, fill me with youses cock and fingers, and then both of your cocks, please! I- I- I- need it, I need it.” Murdock laughs, but it’s not mocking, only smug and triumphant.

“I know you do, I know you are a good boy and can take us both.” Murdock does let go of Yancy’s cock then, but only for a moment, since it picks up the lube bottle to get some more lube to where the three of you are now joined, if a bit thinly at the moment.

You could have perhaps helped Murdock, but you’re a bit preoccupied with not just thrusting up into Yancy, or coming too close to the edge. The way Yancy clenches around you, grinding down onto you, and the thought of you and Murdock fucking him at the same time is making your head spin.

It doesn’t help when Murdock starts moving his finger back and forth, starting to stretch Yancy more, and at the same time brushing against your cock. The groan that leaves you is a little choked off, and you hear Murdock chuckle as your head falls onto Yancy’s shoulder.

“Should we have gotten out the cockring for you sweetheart?”

“Hng, fuck no, just give me a moment.”

“Mhm, I’m not going to stop.”

“Not asking you to. I’m just way too close, and if you were to move Yancy, I would cum.” You hear Yancy draw a deep and shaky breath, but you don’t know if that was a reaction to your words, or a reaction to Murdock adding another finger.

Not that it really matters, because being kept still on your cock is not what Yancy wants. So after a while he starts to grind his hips down, which you let him do since you’re not as close anymore. But, you don’t start to move him up and down yet, instead just feeling how hot he is, and how stretched he is getting.

Murdock adds a third finger rather quickly, moving them in and out of Yancy at a quicker and quicker pace. Yancy is constantly letting out little moans and groans, tugging on both of your hair. You start to plant kisses all over Yancy’s shoulder, your mouth and tongue worshiping the skin it can reach.

All the while Murdock has a hold of Yancy’s cock, but he’s not jerking him off or anything, just keeping his hold there and letting Yancy gently rock into the still gloved hand.

And then the fingers inside of Yancy are gone, though he is not left with only you inside of him for long, as Murdock slowly, carefully, starts to push his cock inside of Yancy alongside your own.

You grip Yancy’s hips hard enough to bruise, biting down on his shoulder as he lets out perhaps the prettiest moan you have ever heard. All breathless and high, and the hand in your hair clenches and unclenches while he gets filled more and more.

When Murdock is finally all the way inside of Yancy, Murdock groans, claiming Yancy’s other shoulder with a bite, making him yelp with the pain.

“Fuck baby boy, so tight and perfect for us.” You whisper against Yancy’s skin.

“It would be, ah, perfect if you moved.” Yancy whines, grinding down, causing you and Murdock to let out a moan in unison.

“Soon little dove, so impatient.” Murdock teases, starting to move his hand over Yancy’s cock again. Yancy moans, bucking up into the hold. You go with it, your hands on his hips starting to guide him to slowly move up and down.

He doesn’t go far, but he doesn’t need to. Even the shallow bounces feel so amazing, your cock rubbing against Murdock’s with every minuscule movement of Yancy’s hips.

You’re not going to last long, but you don’t think the others are either. The room is so warm, filled with the smell of sex, the only noise the moans from all three of you, and the whines from Yancy.

He’s so tight around your cock, squeezing even with how spread he is. He doesn’t try to control the speed of any of what is happening, letting you and Murdock take full control. Which you revel in, and know Murdock does too, as you make him move up and down on your cock.

You’re close, so close to spilling over that edge, but you want Yancy to cum first. So, your hand joins Murdock’s gloved one on Yancy’s cock, guiding Murdock to speed up. The pace is a lot faster than any other movement, but you want, no, need, to feel Yancy fall apart on your cocks.

And less than a minute you get that, as Yancy spills himself over your shared hands with a cry. Murdock groans loudly, pumping his hips forward once, twice, thrice, then cumming inside of Yancy.

Yancy’s noise and Murdock’s cum filling him up, sends you careening over the edge of your own orgasm. You pump your hips up too, making sure every drop of cum spills inside Yancy, mixing with Murdock’s.

You tremble slightly as you pull out of Yancy, Murdock in a similar state as he does the same.

Yancy is just boneless on your lap, so it’s easy to move him down on his back on the bed. He’s panting, licking his lip as a lazy smile spreads across his face.

“Fuck, youse....” He doesn’t say anything else, throwing an arm over his face and giggling. Murdock and you lock eyes as Yancy stretches, then you look down on Yancy’s cum covered stomach.

Catching onto the idea that popped into your head just seconds earlier, you can Murdock lean down in unison, licking over the cum covered skin.

“Shit!” That earns you both a hand in your hair, and though Yancy tries to move you both, you stay down there to lick every inch clean.

When you’re satisfied that you have gotten every drop, you sit up, enchaining a kiss leaning over Yancy.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Yancy speaks in awe as you break the kiss, turning to grin at him. You lean down, kissing him too, your tongue quickly coming out to brush against his lower lip. He opens his mouth so eagerly, and your tongue dips inside, letting him taste himself and Murdock from you.

Breaking the kiss, Murdock takes over, giving Yancy the same treatment. You watch them, just enjoying the view of the hot and languid kiss.

Though, when it goes on for a little too long and one of his hands travels upwards to rub against one of Yancy’s nipples, you pinch his shoulder.

“What was that for sunshine?” He almost pouts, and you smack his shoulder.

“Clean up and cuddles first Murdock. Then maybe round two, if we’re all up for it.”

“I am.” Comes the quick answer from below you, and that coupled with the smug grin Murdock sports makes you laugh.

#yancy x reader #murdock x reader #yancy #murdock #yancy fic #yancy fanfiction #yancy ahwm #yancy ahwm x reader #yancy smut #murdock smut #murdock fanfiction #murdock fic #reader insert #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #my writing #smut #lemon

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