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Cheating! Chris Pratt x Male! Reader x Markiplier- Pt 2

The next day you woke up with a headache. You slapped at the alarm and got it to stop screeching before rubbing your forehead in an attempt to make the headache stop. The annoyance of the alarm only made it worse, and the pain made your head throb dully. Groaning, you slid out of bed and turned on the room's light.

You squinted at the light's sudden assault and grabbed your alarm from the bed's side table. 5 am. You had to get to the school by 6 before they opened. Since Chris worked so much, you took up a part time job as a substitute teacher to busy yourself. That and you didn't want to sit in a big house all by yourself, your every move echoing as it ricocheted off the walls. You really needed to get a dog or something.

The closet door's hinges squeaked as you opened it, looking for your suit you usually wore. The teacher took a maternity leave and you wanted to make your best impression on these kids. You threw your tux onto the always empty bed and began to strip yourself of your sleeping clothes. Last night ran through your head again, and you remember the look on Chris' face as he opened his beer. 'It looked like he was hiding something.' You shook your head, and tugged on a fresh pair of boxers you got from your dresser.

Chris would never hide something from you, and if he did, it was usually a trip to Hawaii or a trip to the Himalayas. It wasn't something as big as wrecking-your-car-and-replacing-it-before-you-could-find-out-so-he-wouldn't-get-his-ass-kicked secret. You weren't particularly worried, though, because Chris would tell you if he wrecked your car. Besides, it never happened before.

You don't think.

The suit's jacket was finally pulled on, and you looked in the full length mirror to check yourself out. Your eyebrows rose at what you saw. You didn't look half bad. Classy, very proper, and very handsome. You grinned at your reflection, and felt comfort in the way it mimicked your actions. Your smile fell. Were you seriously being selfish with your reflection because you didn't get compliments? God, did you look so pathetic. You grimaced and turned away from the mirror, picking up your dirty clothes and dispensing them in the laundry basket by the door before exiting your room, flicking the light off before walking down the hall.

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The bell rang for the kids to go to lunch, and you never felt so happy in your life. Instead of the middle school kids you were expecting, you got stuck with the sophomores. It wasn't bad, it's just the girls thought you were really cute and the guys gave you shit cause the girls didn't want their three inch drop of sadness. You were currently in the teacher's lounge, microwaving your meal for one when a fellow female staff member approached you.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, sir. Are you new?" You glanced up at her when the timer was at :20. "No, I'm just filling in for Mrs. Fowler, the language arts teacher. I'm [M/N]. [M/N] [L/N]." She smiled and shook your outstretched hand. "Well, the kids seem to love you. Probably because you're the only good looking male teacher we have." You chuckled along with her, though yours was in slight discomfort.

You've never been complimented by a female before, let alone being complimented by someone other than Chris. Even though he was hardly home, every time he had the day off he would shower you with compliments and cuddles. Sometimes, if Chris was feeling like an extreme sap, you'd get roses. The deep red matched your blush when he came in with a bouquet of them clutched tightly in his hand. You could always tell they were fresh when he gave them to you, because the small drops of dew made the flowers twinkle like thousands of small diamonds.

"I'm Ms. Asher. If you need any help with the kids, or something else," -she winked with a mischievous smirk, while putting emphasis on "Ms."- "Don't be shy to call me for help" The late lunch bell rang, and your head snapped up to look at the bell directly across from the door. You looked back at Ms. Asher and smiled. "Will do. I should get back and eat before the kids get back. Make sure their homework is distributed." You swiped your now hot meal from the microwave and walked out the door, turning left before walking back to your classroom.

This school was gonna be the death of you. And you had to stay here for lord knows how long.

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The last bell rang, and you waved the kids bye before they walked out the door in one large mass. Chatter louder than before began to fill the room as kids filed out, one staying behind to be able to give you a card. "What's this for?" You asked as you sat up and took it from him. He shrugged. "Mrs. Fowler might need some extra support during her childbirth, and I thought it would be nice to give her a card regarding her well being. If you can, could you bring it to her? It'd mean a lot, seeing as she's my favorite teacher." You nodded respectfully, an awestruck smile making its way to your lips.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, Kyle. Hope to see you in class again tomorrow, seeing as you're now my favorite student." The teenager grinned, showing off pearly whites, before waving bye and rushing to catch up with his friends. You smiled as you tucked the card into your folder's pocket, making a mental note to bring it to the teacher before going home. When 4:45 hit the clock, you grabbed your binder and began to sort the paperwork into different sleeves.

As you were sliding the eighteenth paper into a sleeve, the classroom's door opened, and Ms. Asher was seen leaning against the door frame. You gave her a smile of acknowledgement before returning to your previous work. Her hip bumped the door closed, and her high heels clicked as she made her way to your desk. She sat right on the paper you grabbed, making you look up at her. "How can I help you, Ms. Asher?" "Danielle." She said, her lipstick laden lips curling up in a smirk. The mischievous mirth in her eyes made you slightly unsettled. "Danielle." You tried her name on for size, and she visibly shivered. You quirked a brow before repeating your question. "How can I help you?"

"First, you can help by not being so damn cute." In a flash, she perched herself on your lap and crashed her lips to yours. Shock flooded your brain, and you sat unresponsive as her hands ran up and down your chest, the only thing separating her fingers from your flesh was the thin cotton shirt you had on underneath your suit jacket. With liquid ease, she swiftly undid half the buttons before you caught her wrists. "Ms. Asher-" "Danielle." She corrected as she began to attack your neck with kisses and small nips. "-I can't do this. I-I'm taken. A-and gay." You gasped as she grazed over your sweet spot. A dark giggle sounded from the back of her throat as she kissed the spot again.

The slight tension in your jaw told her that this was, indeed, your sweet spot. She pulled away and undid her blouse, exposing her cleavage and the lacy black bra underneath her work shirt. Your face exploded in a bright blush, and you turned your face away. Seeing her right here, exposing herself to you, made you feel dirty. Like you were somehow cheating on Chris. 'It's not cheating if you aren't accepting this.' Your logical half of your brain reasoned. You mentally nodded in agreement, and gently pushed Danielle back. "I-I'm sorry. But I can't do this to my boyfriend. You seem like a very....," You glanced briefly at her chest and immediately made eye contact again. The smirk was still curling her lips as she gripped the arm rests of the office chair you sat in. She was officially caging you in your guilt. "..Nice woman, really. You're very pretty, but I...this is basically cheating, and I'd never do that to my boyfriend." You picked her up by her waist and sat her down on the desk, grabbing the rest of the papers off said wooden furniture and placed them in your binder.

You got up from the chair and made a mad dash for the door, your face still a bright scarlet, and your chest exposed to nearly all the female teachers on the hallway. You wanted to die of embarrassment as Danielle leaned out the doorway of your class and called after you when you were halfway down the hall. "Nice talking with you, [M/N]!" The female teachers giggled as they stared at you, their cheeks a faint pink at the sight of your flustered form as they held a hand over their mouths to stifle the laughter. You just gripped your binder tighter and sped up your walk to a half-jog.

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You finished the last button on your shirt as you opened your front door, greeted with the familiar and very much missed living room. What was different, though, was that an old time friend sat on the couch. You furrowed your brows as you called out to him. "Mark, when'd you get here? And how'd you get in?" He answered as you dumped your keys into the bowl on the counter. "You really need to find a better place to stash your spare key other than under the welcome mat. That's how stuff gets stolen." You gawked at your own stupidity. "That's literally saying "welcome to my home! Make yourself comfy!" Christ..." He laughed, the sound deep and cheerful. You grinned as you kicked your shoes off and into the room. "So how was your day?" You asked, flopping down on the couch next to him. You loosened your tie with one hand as the other grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV.

Mark shrugged and turned his attention to the flat screen mounted on the wall above the cubicle of neatly organized DVDs and Blu-Rays, all arranged according to the alphabet, what the movie was about (action, comedy, drama, etc.) and what year it was made. You'd had enough spare time to take a few hours to arrange your collection. It was one of the only things that kept you sane. "It was okay. Filmed a couple videos today, posted them on YouTube." "You have a YouTube channel?" You grunted, clicking "OK" on the classic "V For Vendetta."

He nodded. "Yep. And it's doing pretty good. Wanna see it?" You looked over at him to see him raising his eyebrows. "Sure." Your head swiveled back to the TV as he fished out his phone, scrolling through different apps before clicking on the YouTube play button. The first thing to load was his channel. He handed his phone to you and you paused the movie before watching the first video there.

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Hours later and you both were giggling at Mark in his 'Drunk Minecraft' series. The movie had played itself, and the sound had turned off. The usual whistling of Vendetta's blades couldn't be heard, even though that was your favorite part. You busted out laughing when they tried and failed several times to recreate the Walking Dead series. You could hardly breathe at the random shit they said during the episode. You fell over onto Mark, your body quaking from laughter. You tried speaking between giggles. "Th-that was freaking h-hilarious!! That's j-just the shit I-I needed today." Mark paused the video in the middles of a scene and looked down at you. "What happened to you today?" You sat up, nearly smacking Mark in the forehead with your own, and rubbed your temples. Your laughter stopped abruptly with his question, and you could feel the dull throb from this morning's headache coming back.

"Well, I had fifteen year old girls clearly flirting with me. The guys gave me shit about it. I had a female teacher try to rape me or some shit. I couldn't do it because that would be cheating on my part. Plus I'm gay. And so far, Chris has stayed true and I'm not breaking my record and breaking him, too." Mark nodded, patting your back. "I know the feels, bro." You let out a wry chuckle, and leaned back into the couch. A minute later, the door opened and in stepped Chris.

With a woman on his arm.