Markiplier egos one shots

NSFWish Yancy x Reader

Weeks, months had passed since you’d agreed to stay at Happy Trails Penitentiary, and you and your new friend Yancy had spent much more time together than you’d anticipated. Yancy’s prison family, which had quickly become yours as well, might have given him a hard time about it, had he not knocked out one of Sparkles McGee’s front teeth the first time he brought it up.

There was nothing overtly romantic about anything the two of you did together, playing card games, sharing stories, watching tv, eating meals together…

But, there were instances when Yancy would throw his arm over your shoulders, or that your hand would accidentally brush over his when reaching into the popcorn bucket sitting between the two of you during movie nights. Moments that sent tiny jolts of electricity through your nerves.

Sometimes you’d feel Yancy stiffen up when you sat down beside him on one of the benches in the prison yard, close enough to him that your thighs touched, or he would start to stutter when you’d make a compliment about his appearance before a performance with the family’s little musical theater group.

If you weren’t together, you were probably thinking about him. You’d settle down for bed at the end of the night and find your thoughts drifting to fond memories of the day, of plans you had coming up. You would even catch yourself thinking about just him, his slicked-back hair, his deep voice, his muscular arms, his hands, his lips… 

You were quick to shake those thoughts from your mind. You couldn’t be attracted to Yancy like that. You couldn’t. He had better things to worry about than you. 

What you didn’t know, was that Yancy thought about you, too. The few extra minutes he put into perfecting his appearance before popping over to your cell to visit, the extra hours he’d been putting in for new songs he’d been working on…he wouldn’t admit it, but it was fueled by you. The hopes to impress you, to maybe, give him the courage to say something to you about how he felt. How interesting and attractive he found you, how your voice made his entire day brighter, how he had never felt so good inside before, so…whole, when he was with you.

One evening, everyone was in the game room to play a rather intense night of Bingo, but you both had fairly shitty cards and after a few rounds had given up and decided to instead retreat to Yancy’s cell to catch up on the books you both had been reading. You split from Yancy to grab your book from your own cell first, quickly grabbing it from the bedside table, but paused when you decided that you wanted to be a little more comfortable for the night. You unbuttoned the black-and-white striped shirt you’d been wearing and tossed in onto your bed, leaving only a white tank that rested just a little above the waistband of your striped pants before you strolled back over to Yancy’s cell. 

You found Yancy already sitting on his bed, legs stretched out across the floor and crossed at the ankles, his book already open in his hands.

He looked up to greet you, but froze. You stared back at him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden mood shift, then realized that this was likely the first time he had seen you in any sort of remotely revealing clothing. You forced yourself to quickly, casually, plop down beside him, grinning as you lightly punched him in the arm. 

“Don’t distract me this time, this book is getting good.” you said playfully, praying that ignoring his reaction to you would make the blush creeping its way up your neck and into your cheeks die a rotten death.