Markiplier One Shots

I Don't Wanna Be Free: Part 2

I Don't Wanna Be Free: Part 2

Over the next few weeks, you learned more of the ins and outs of Happy Trails. You became more accustomed to the rules and procedures and the way things would be handled if any inmates fell out of line. You got closer to your fellow guards and the warden, Mr. Murder Slaughter. But more than anything, you got closer to Yancy.

You did your best to make conversation with every prisoner so that your coworkers wouldn't suspect anything of you and Yancy, and you often only spoke to him in earshot and eyeshot of your boss or fellow guards if he was with other inmates. That being said, you always saw him at rec time. You were the only guard in charge of supervising Yancy's dance group now, and you easily found time to talk to him more privately when his practices ended. The excuse was that you were giving him tips on how he could lengthen his sentence, but it was clear to you that you both enjoyed spending time together no matter what the conversation was about.

One day, he put his hand on your knee as you both were sitting on top of one of the rec room tables. He was quick to remove it when you gave him a look and he realized how inappropriate it was, but truthfully, you didn't mind it. And you often found yourself placing your hand on his shoulder or sitting much closer to him than necessary. You both always apologized, but could never hide your smiles. It was clear that there were mutual feelings, and you knew they were wrong. But then again, he did want to get in trouble at Happy Trails, and the warden certainly wouldn't be happy to find out that a prisoner and a guard were having relations with one another...

"If you don't want to hurt anyone else or get anyone else into too much trouble, you can always make empty threats," you told Yancy one afternoon as you were sitting together in the recreation room as per usual. "Even if you don't throw a punch, being involved in a fight at all will get you put in solitary. Having any type of contraband or anything that could be considered a weapon will get you there too."

"I could start with somethin' like that. They won't let me out early on parole if my behavior's no good," Yancy agreed.

"Unfortunately, it seems like unless you hurt someone or do something huge, your sentence probably won't get increased while you're in here. You'd have to get in trouble again once you got out for that to happen," you said.

"Alright. Well, I can work with that," he decided.

Yancy started a fight a couple days later. He didn't throw the first punch, per se, but he did have to give the guy a bit of a shove to rile him up. Other guards were quick to break it up before it got too bad, but Yancy did end up with a black eye and a few bruises, and he was thrown into solitary, as expected. You weren't normally stationed in the solitary cells, but you snuck an ice pack to him anyways, and he was thankful for that.

When Yancy was allowed to return to his regular cell, you were so glad to see him. Dance practices resumed, and so did your daily conversations with him. He continued doing small things that would get him at least a slap on the wrist - heated arguments, stealing things from other inmates' cells, etc. Every time something worked, he expressed gratitude to you. He'd give you a chocolate bar that he bought from commissary or compliment you until you were blushing. And then finally, the truth came out.

"I like youse, y/n. I know I shouldn't, but I do," he confessed, taking your hand in his and looking sincerely into your eyes. You could tell he meant it.

"I like you too, Yancy, even if it's wrong," you admitted with a smile. "You know, we could use that to our advantage."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Well, I don't know exactly what would happen, but if the warden found out that you and I were involved with each other, that would definitely mean trouble," you explained.

"But wouldn't you get fired if that happened? I don't want you to lose youse's job!" Yancy argued.

"In order for me to not get in trouble, we'd have to frame it in a way that made it seem like you put moves on me and I didn't reciprocate. But to be honest, I'm just relieved to hear that you feel the same way as I do. If I get fired, so what? I can still come to visit you," you said.

"I like seeing you every day. I don't want to have to wait weeks in between visits," Yancy complained. "Plus, they're very adamant about the whole "no touching" thing during visitation."

"Well, we're not supposed to touch now unless I'm disciplining you anyways, but here we are," you reminded him, glancing down at your hand which was still in his, his thumb gently stroking your index finger.

"I guess youse got a point. Let's do it, then, but not yet. Let's sneak around for a while," Yancy decided. So you did.

Your interactions gradually increased from the usual rec time meet ups and casual conversations in the lunch room to secret rendezvous in empty halls and rooms when you got the chance. You went from occasionally holding hands or sitting closely to kissing, when you were absolutely certain that nobody was around.

Your first kiss happened in the laundry room, where Yancy worked. Everyone got done a bit early and you let them start heading to dinner early. You of course stayed behind with Yancy, who was pretending to straighten up.

"So, I think we can have a couple minutes to ourselves before anyone starts getting suspicious..." you began, but before you knew it, you were being pushed up against a washing machine and Yancy's lips were on yours, his hands gripping your waist. You couldn't help but smile, and when he broke away he was smiling too.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait any longer," he apologized. But you didn't mind. You grabbed his shirt and pulled, bringing his lips back to yours. You only stayed behind with him for maybe five minutes before you insisted that he head to the cafeteria for dinner, but you wished you could have kissed him for hours.

The two of you managed to keep your exciting new relationship a secret for a few months. You were very careful at first, only doing things when you were positive you were in the clear. But the longer it went on, the sloppier you got. The less you cared about getting caught, because you were just so damn happy to be with each other. Until you did get caught.

Of course, it couldn't have been just any old guard who walked in on you and Yancy making out. It couldn't have been one of the pushover employees who really didn't give a shit about what other people did - that would have been too easy. Instead, it was none other than the warden, Mr. Murder Slaughter, who wandered into the storage closet when you were in Yancy's lap on the floor, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands tugging at your clothes.

"You must be fucking with me!" he yelled, slamming his fist against a shelf in anger when he saw the two of you. Several items fell off the shelf from the impact, and you sprung your feet, your heart racing.

"Mr. Murder Slaughter, it's not what it looks like!" you blurted, unable to think of anything smart to say.

"Don't give me that bullshit, y/l/n. I can see what's going on clear as day. Inmate, you're headed to solitary. Y/l/n, your ass is fired!" the warden's voice boomed. You wanted to argue, but you knew it would do you no good. So instead, you mumbled a quick apology to Yancy before heading to your locker to gather your things and leave.

Luckily, the warden wasn't furious enough to ban you from Happy Trails. So, every third Sunday, you were there to visit Yancy. Mr. Murder Slaughter and the other guards kept a closer eye on you and Yancy than any of the other inmates and their visitors - it was obvious that word had gotten out about your relationship. But Yancy was happy to tell you that all chances of parole and getting out early were off for him, which meant he'd get to stay in the place he called home for a while longer. And while you both wished you could see each other more often, every third Sunday was better than nothing. In fact, every third Sunday turned into your favorite day of every month.