Day 10 - Punishment
A/N: This is the next fic for kinktober 2025! List here.
Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts
@felinisnoctis @bookandyarndragonwritesdark
Warnings: poor coping skills, past abuse, let me know if I’ve missed anything and tag it
Summary: Reader comes home to an unexpectedly quiet house.
You yawn and stretch, rolling your shoulders as you step out of your car and head to your home, a pleased hum. Work had been challenging, but in a satisfying way, and you were more than ready to have dinner, cuddle with your bonded Marine and watch TV until bed time. Maybe go for an evening walk if Fafnir was in the mood for a walk - as your playful Space Wolf often was.
You unlock the door to your home and enter it, bracing for Fafnir to come running to the door and scoop you up in a big bear hug, probably giving you kisses all over your face and neck. When only quiet greeted you as you entered your home, a small frown appeared on your face. You double check your phone, in case you miscounted the days.
Was Fafnir off with a group of his brothers on a hunt? No, that was in three days, scheduled for the same time that you were going to be away from home for the weekend at a work conference. You and he had coordinated that as otherwise he’d get too worried as to whether or not you would return home that he either got destructive, or tracked you down to the conference and held you in his arms, whining and fussing for hours.
He also hadn’t sent you any texts about heading out for one reason or another, so as far as you knew, your Marine should be at home. Perhaps he was in the backyard, cooking dinner over a fire, as was his preference in the warm summer months, using the grill you’d gotten him in order to do so safely?
A quick check of the backyard shows you that there are no Space Wolves in your backyard. Fafnir did make dinner - slow cooker chili and corn bread muffins, the latter of which are still cooling in the tray on the counter. Which means Fafnir has to be in the house somewhere. You wander from room to room, trying to figure out where he could possibly be. Fafnir is a good seven feet tall and built like a furry, red-headed fridge! It should not be this difficult to find him.
You find him kneeling on the floor of your bedroom, forehead pressed against the ground. The ugly vase that your step-mother had gifted you two weeks ago for your birthday with smug tones knowing that you’d have to keep it or risk upsetting her and causing entirely too much family drama having clearly been shattered and pain-stakingly glued back together.
Oh. Oh.
Fafnir had admitted to you that he’d been captured and tormented by someone for a number of years, after a really bad nightmare had him hiding under your bed, whimpering and flinching whenever you tried to reach out to try and reassure your normally very cuddly Space Wolf. He had not told you much more than that, his face haunted and deeply, deeply ashamed. You’d encouraged him to go to one of the Astartes Support Groups for those who had been held in long-term captivity and it did seem to help.
“Oh Fafnir… What happened?” You asked, voice gentle and non-judgmental, hoping that the neutral tone would help him calm down. From the way he trembled and shook, that was a big no. Damn, and Fafnir’d been doing so well these past couple of months. But you knew from painful experience that recovery was never a linear process.
“I was doing some clean up around the house and accidentally knocked your new vase to the ground by accident when I bumped it with the end of the broom while sleeping, M-my bonded.” Fafnir responded, face still pressed to the floor. You’d managed to convince him not to call you by certain terms that made moments like this much worse, but he could slip up sometimes. “S-so I put it back together as best as I could and came here, waiting for punishment for being a clumsy fool.”
Your heart ached to see him this way. Curled in as small as a man his size could be and trembling like he expected to be beaten bloody for a small mistake. You suppress the urge to sigh or cry and approach him. You can see the way he tenses, tracking your movements closely. You kneel down next to him and gently tap his shoulders twice, a silent request for him to sit up and look at you.
A request that he grants, slowly. Fafnir doesn’t quite manage to look you in the eyes, but his gaze is focused on your chin. Progress. “I’m not mad at you for accidentally breaking that vase. I think it’s ugly and doesn’t match my aesthetic. And even if you had broken something I do treasure, I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. The restoration job you did on this makes it look better.”
There is a soft whine in his voice as he speaks “I still should have been more watchful of my surroundings. W-what is the punishment I am to receive for breaking it?”
You swallow down the rage at whoever had managed to terrorize this sweet, loving soul. Anger here would not help, and only make Fafnir more distressed. You smile and press a kiss to one of his cheeks “I think you’ve punished yourself quite enough, on my behalf. But if you really insist… Once we are done eating dinner together, I want you to put away the remaining chili and wash all of the dishes and cutlery we use and put them away before we go on our evening walk. Understand?”
Fafnir nods, letting out a slow breath of relief as he gets up off of his knees and onto his feet. “Y-yes b-bonded. I understand. Thank you for being so merciful with me.”
You want to rage and scream that he doesn’t need to be this afraid for making such a small mistake. You want to burn anyone who ever made him feel this small and battered. Instead you smile and gently cup one of his cheeks, gently brushing a thumb across his face in a hopefully soothing gesture. “You’re welcome, Faf. Now, let’s go eat that chili you made. It smells delicious!”
He nods and follows you downstairs as both you and he set the table and grab the fixings for chili. You tell him about your day at work, smiling brighter as your sweet Wolf slowly relaxes over the course of the meal.
